“Fifty dollars!” Beth gave Willow a hug. Scott stood and opened his arms, hoping for a hug of his own. Apparently without thinking, Beth melted into his embrace. She tossed her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek as the crowd of onlookers clapped and whistled.
His arms slipped around her waist, and he pulled her tight against his chest. Beth held onto the taut muscles of his back. He let his fingers skim over her hips and nudged her ear with his lips. Within seconds, she disentangled herself from his hold.
“I can’t believe I won,” she said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and not looking him in the eye. Feeling her blue chill, the muscle in Scott’s jaw twitched.
“It’s hot in here. I could use some air. I’m going to step outside for a moment.” She fanned her face with her hand and started for the door.
“Maybe we should all call it a night,” Scott said to stop her. “What do you say, Willow? Had enough Bingo for one evening?”
Nodding, she stifled a yawn.
They left their cards and markers on the table, stepped out of the warm hall into air that had grown cooler, and began the trek back to the hospital parking lot. Willow begged Scott to carry her. He hoisted her onto his back, and she clung like a monkey with her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
The lemony moon dangled like a slice of pie, surrounded by millions of twinkling white stars. Beth looked up and sighed. “Thank you for tonight, Scott. I enjoyed coming to town and interacting with the community. I felt welcome.” It seemed she wanted to keep the conversation light and pretend their second close encounter of the day hadn’t taken place.
Scott smiled, but didn’t reply. Touching her for a few short seconds had not been enough.
When they reached his truck, Willow stirred and moaned. Keeping his hands securely clasped around her body, he asked Beth to grab the keys out of the front pocket of his jeans. She hesitated before slipping her fingers into the pocket to retrieve the truck keys. Although it was a legitimate request, given his hands weren’t free, the act was an intimate one—one that caused his heart to race like a stampeding horse as her fingers grazed his hard upper thigh through his pants. Her hand visibly shook as she unlocked the passenger door. Scott deposited Willow in the middle of the seat and buckled her in. Beth slid in next to her. She cranked the window halfway and let the sounds of the night stream in.
They bounced along the back road toward High Lonesome with the creamy moon as their guide. Willow slumped over and laid her head in Beth’s lap. Half asleep, she wiggled around until she found a comfortable position, where she stayed the rest of the way. Seeing Beth stroke his child’s silky hair with her fingertips sent an arrow to Scott’s heart.
Silence filled the space between him and Beth, each lost in their own thoughts.
All was quiet at the ranch when they drove in. There were still lights on in a few of the small cabins below, but the main house was silent as a tomb when they entered. It was dark, except for the soft glowing night light in the hall. Scott carried Willow to her bedroom, with Beth following. Without asking, she undressed the child, slipped a nightgown over her head, and Scott tucked the covers up under her chin. They lingered over her for a moment.
After clicking the room door shut, the two of them stood facing each other in the hallway. Moonlight shone through the windows of the great room and bathed them in silvery rays.
Scott whispered, “You’re so good with her. Thank you for taking time to do her hair and help her get dressed. I know she felt like a little princess. Times like these are when I most regret she doesn’t have a mother.”
“She’s going to be all right, Scott. You’re a wonderful father.”
“I know, but a little girl needs a mother. And a man needs a wife. Someone he can share life’s ups and downs with. A woman who’ll love him with her whole heart and soul, and accept all he has to offer in return. That’s something I long for again. I didn’t realize how badly, until you came along. I want a family. More children. And a woman—my soul mate.” The long string of words was more than he’d intended, but once he’d started, there was no reeling them in.
Beth’s eyes enlarged, and he knew he’d scared her. When her shock had ebbed, she calmly asked, “Then why don’t you ask Doctor Coleman to marry you?”
Shocked into silence, Scott couldn’t speak. Beth said “good night” and strode down the hall to her room. She reached for the doorknob.
“Please wait.” His voice was but a whisper. She stopped and turned toward him. Feeling passion beyond words, he gazed into her eyes. A flame sizzled through his veins. He’d go crazy if he didn’t taste her kiss. Threading his fingers underneath her hair to cradle her head, his mouth tenderly pressed to hers, showering her with complete devotion in that one long, lingering kiss.
When their mouths parted, Beth exhaled a gentle rush of air. She traced the curve of his jaw with her finger. Tears glistened. Disappointment hammered through him to see the depth of pain fill her eyes.
“We can’t do this, Scott,” she whispered. “Please don’t make it harder than it already is. You must forget about me.”
He palmed her cheek. “I can’t. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes, and he felt her body shudder.
The silence between them was suddenly broken by the low hum of the central air conditioning whose condenser suddenly kicked on.
“Good night, Scott.” She flung open the guest room door and let it close with a soft snap behind her.
He stood outside the door debating on whether to knock on it and tell her he’d fallen in love, or to leave her alone. His heart boomed inside his chest like thunder. He raised his fist, and then lowered it again. Why am I doing this to myself? She believes she’s married with a child. That can only mean trouble and heartbreak, for both of us. Maybe the amnesia has confused her dreams, and the man in them hasn’t been abusive at all. If that’s the case, he’ll come for her, and she’ll leave with him and get on with her life.
The prospects of having to say goodbye to her caused him anguish like he hadn’t experienced in four years. With Maggie’s death, he’d suffered unbearable, heartbreaking loss. It was the kind of loss intended to make him stronger, but it only made him realize how fleeting life was. He knew he was vulnerable, but dammit, he’d fallen in love. There was no denying it. The thought of watching Beth walk away out of his life scared him to death.
He climbed the stairs to his empty room, slipped off his clothes, and crawled into bed. His limbs felt heavy, and his mind spun. Sleep was slow to come, but when it did, hours later, he dreamed of a green-eyed angel that flew away from him on a sure-footed horse with wings.
Chapter Eight
Jack West’s muscular arms pumped from side to side. Every once in a while, he’d extend one and point it toward the television suspended from the ceiling in his home gym. He channel surfed between news stations. He liked to watch CNN or the local news as he ran.
Jack punched a button and the belt speed picked up. His athletic shoes thumped on the hard rubber—left, right, left, right, left, right. Running like a cougar on the treadmill, he barely broke a sweat. At six foot two and one hundred eighty-five pounds, the chiseled athlete considered himself more machine than man.
Exercising had always been a way of keeping his body in the shape he desired, but in recent years, it had also become a release—a stress reliever—from the daily grind of life. That kind of release was required now, more than ever, to channel the torture he’d experienced the past few days since his wife had disappeared.
Angela, his beautiful wife of eight years, had been missing for several days. Technically, she was his ex-wife, but Jack was not the kind of man to bother with technicalities.
He’d driven to his former home the morning she disappeared to visit with his daughter in the time he’d been allotted by Court Order after the divorce. It was a magnificent brick home on a cul-de-sac in one of the ritziest neig
hborhoods in Tucson. He’d worked like a dog for years to provide that kind of home for his family. Even when he thought about it now, it still pissed him off that the judge had just handed the house over to Angela as part of the divorce settlement.
As usual, he and Angela had disagreed. They’d had a small argument over something almost as soon as he’d stepped through the front door. He couldn’t even remember what the fight was about now. He’d taken Heather to the park so both he and Angela could cool down. When he returned several hours later, he found Angie gone. At first, he’d thought she was off running errands, or visiting Faith, the neighbor next door. Then he remembered Faith was out of town and wouldn’t be home for another week or so. He called the neighbor on the other side, but she hadn’t seen his wife either.
After waiting a couple more hours, he’d started to worry. It was not like Angie to leave without a note, especially when she knew he’d be bringing Heather home. She had just a handful of friends, and when he called them, they told him they hadn’t seen or heard from her.
This was the story he’d told the police later that evening. He explained how she had no immediate family living, and how he’d checked and realized her passport and birth certificate were missing. As the police investigated, they discovered no signs of forced entry into the home. Nothing was askew in the house, and there was no blood, no reason to believe she was kidnapped or taken by force.
When asked if she could have left on her own accord, Jack acknowledged that their relationship had been rocky for some time, and it had disintegrated even further since the divorce. He told the police she had seemed restless. He’d noticed her being short and impatient with their young daughter. “It was tough to believe, but it was becoming more apparent that she no longer wanted to be a wife or a mother,” he told the investigators.
Jack even wrung his hands and managed to squeeze out a tear.
The trail grew cold fast, and the Arizona State Police soon considered it a case of a missing person by choice. The consensus was, Angela West had walked away from her family and vanished without a trace.
His plan had worked without a hitch.
Jack punched another button and the treadmill slowed. He stepped off and wiped his face with a towel. Sauntering to the bar, he removed a bottle of cranberry juice from the mini fridge, filled a tumbler with ice and poured a glass, gulping it down.
Pausing in front of the television, he was about to flip it off when a familiar face stared out at him like a phantom. She was pale and innocent looking, with big green eyes. Her hair was glossy and as black as the night. A phone number, email address, and website address rolled across the bottom of the screen.
Jack aimed the remote control at the television and pressed the volume to high. His jaw clenched, and the muscles twitched as he listened to a law officer offer up a plea to the greater Arizona community. The man was the sheriff of some hick town in New Mexico—the name of which he failed to grasp—and he was asking “anyone who knows this woman or has information about her, to please come forward or contact the number on the screen.”
Feeling the color drain from his face, Jack’s mind began to spin. He hit “Pause” on the DVR and grabbed a pad and pen from off the bar counter. Beads of sweat popped out on his face. While scribbling down the information, he pressed the start button and heard the word amnesia. Stunned, he wondered if he’d heard correctly. Angela, his former wife, was in New Mexico suffering from amnesia? She wasn’t dead? Everything jumbled together. He could hardly process the news.
Flicking off the television, he sprinted down the hall to the bedroom he’d once shared with her. The day he’d made her disappear, after the police had left, he’d driven to the apartment he’d been relegated to, packed his clothes, and moved back to the house. He had Heather to look after, and there was no reason for him and his precious daughter to stay in that rented dump while his beautiful home stood empty—the same home the idiot judge handed over to Angela without so much as a backward glance.
Jack reached for the picture frame that sat on Angela’s vanity. It was a photo of her and Heather. Then he ran into the living room and searched the end table drawers for their wedding album. He hadn’t looked at it in years and figured she’d stowed it away after the divorce, but he’d need a photo of the two of them as proof that she was his wife.
Finding it turned out to be easier than he thought. Locating it on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in the den, he flipped open the album, expecting to find their marriage certificate stuck in the front plastic cover. It wasn’t there. He turned through the pages, but the certificate was not to be found anywhere in the album. No matter, he thought. A wedding photo of the two of them would suffice. He pulled out the top photo and gazed at it. There were times when he could be sentimental. He’d given her the perfect wedding, and they’d been so in love. But that was a long time ago.
Jack shoved the album back into the bookcase and searched the master bedroom for a duffle bag to carry a change of clothes, the wedding photo, and the framed picture.
He jumped into the shower and lathered up, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour. After drying his hair and slipping on some slacks, a white cotton shirt and loafers, he headed downstairs to place two phone calls. The first was to the older neighbor next door. Bev was her name. Even though Angie was acquainted with her, he hadn’t spoken to the woman often, but remembered she’d babysat for Heather a few times. He wondered if she even knew he and Angela were divorced.
When he called, Bev told him she’d just seen the broadcast about Angie on TV and was in shock. When he asked if she could watch Heather overnight, she told him she’d do anything to help.
The second call was to the phone number of the sheriff’s department in Ghost Rock, New Mexico. He got the answering machine, but didn’t bother to leave a message, and he didn’t have time to try again. He’d drive and spend the night in Ghost Rock—relax and polish his story—and call again in the morning.
When he was set, Jack locked up the house and jumped into the black BMW coupe that the divorce judge had also given to Angela. Speeding down the interstate, he crossed the state line and passed a sign, which read You Are Now Leaving Arizona—Come Back Again. Just ahead, he noticed a second sign, with the greeting, Welcome to the Land of Enchantment.
“God, I hate New Mexico,” he mumbled.
Chapter Nine
Beth strolled into the kitchen on Saturday morning to find Scott, Cody and Carmen having a pow-wow around the island.
“Good mornin’,” Scott said, before taking a sip of coffee. Their gazes connected, but only for a moment. Hopefully, he’d realized their kiss last night was a mistake. Just as she’d known it was. Today, she planned to ask him to take her to town to find a motel room. Temptation was too strong for the two of them to live together in close proximity.
“Morning.” She greeted all of them with a smile.
“Morning, Beth,” echoed Carmen and Cody.
She meandered past Scott on her way to the coffee pot. Having tossed and turned most of the night, she wondered if he’d slept any better. He didn’t look worse for the wear, which probably meant he’d slept after realizing there was no future for them, so there was no point in growing closer. In fact, the early morning hours looked good on him. His blue eyes sparkled, his cheeks were rough and unshaven, and the scent of a combination of soap, cologne, and pure masculinity went straight to her head as she drank him in.
She’d left her hair down and dressed in jeans and a snug plaid western shirt; clothes that felt second nature to her already. As she poured a cup of coffee and stirred in sugar, she felt Scott’s gaze between her shoulder blades. Turning, she caught him staring, and not hiding the fact. His eyes traveled up and down her body, taking her all in. When he grinned that crooked grin, it was obvious that she was wrong about his change of heart. If anything, his eyes clouded with more passion than she’d seen last night.
Taking a seat at the island next to Cody, she reached for a bluebe
rry muffin. Now was not the right time to bring up leaving the ranch. From the look on Scott and Cody’s faces, she guessed their conversation to be important, but perhaps not too serious. They both seemed relaxed as usual.
Carmen threw her arms into the air and began squawking a Spanish blue streak. Beth took a bite of muffin and wondered what was going on.
“Calm down before you have a stroke,” Scott joked after downing his coffee. “It’s not the end of the world, Carmen.”
“Is something wrong?” Beth asked.
“Si. We’ve got trouble with a capital T,” Carmen told her, shaking her head.
“Rowdy and Amber have run off together.” Cody soaked up some runny eggs with a piece of toast and offered the news as if he were giving the weather report.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Scott added.
“Ai yi yi.” Carmen sighed. “Crazy kids. They didn’t even have the decency to tell Mr. Scott face to face. They left a note taped to the back door.” She made a stabbing motion with her finger toward the door for emphasis. She tapped the note lying in front of Scott. “Read it to her,” she urged.
Scott unfolded the note and read out loud. “Dear Scott. Me and Amber are in love and have left for California. She has an uncle out there who works in the movie industry. He’s going to give us both jobs and let us live in one of his apartments rent-free until we get on our feet. We’re sorry for not telling you in person. We both feel real bad about leaving you stuck like this cause you’ve been so good to us. We want to thank you for all you did, but we couldn’t wait. The uncle wanted us out there yesterday. Hope you understand. Sincerely, your wrangler, Rowdy. P.S. Tell my pardner Cody I said adios.” Scott refolded the note and laid it on the counter.
Beth finally met his gaze. “Well, I’ll be. What a surprise. It seemed to me they had it pretty good here. You treated them both like gold and gave them fair wages.”
High Lonesome Page 14