Lonestar Secrets

by Colleen Coble

  Faith accepted her answers for now. Shannon wondered if she would remember them later when she found out the truth. She might think Shannon had lied to her.

  "Read the story, Mommy," Kylie demanded. She scooted closer to her mother.

  Shannon slipped open the book before Faith could ask more questions. "Are you ready to see what Alexander is up to today?" They'd been reading the Judith Viorst books, and today's was Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. She plunged into the story and soon had the girls giggling about Alexander's misadventures.

  A light knock came at the door. "Come in," Faith called.

  The door swung open, and Jack stepped in. "Sorry to bother you, but it sounded like you all were having too much fun without me. What's going on?"

  "Just a story." Shannon held up the book.

  His hair stuck up on end, mussed by his hat. A few buttons had come undone on his shirt as if he'd started to get ready for bed, and maybe he had, because he was in his stocking feet.

  She sensed he was lonely. "You want to read to them for a while?"

  "Yes, Daddy, you read!" Faith bounced up and down in the bed. "Get in bed with us." She threw back the covers.

  Shannon froze. Not a good idea. But before she could think up an excuse, Jack crossed the room in four steps and flopped onto his back next to Faith. At least he was on top of the covers. He playfully snatched the book from her hand, settled it on his stomach, and began to read.

  The lull of his deep voice reading the book loosened the tense muscles in Shannon's back. She settled Kylie on her other arm and watched the delight on the faces of the girls. A complete family. Something she'd wanted all her life. What would it be like to belong to this family completely? To this man? Shannon couldn't wrap her mind around it. She was so used to fighting to survive, to make something of herself. She needed to learn to rest in her circumstances, but she didn't know how.

  Jack nestling with them on Faith's other side was somehow right. She wondered if he was thinking of Blair, but she didn't really want to know. Not tonight. Tonight she wanted to imagine there was room for her in his heart too. Her eyelids drifted shut, influenced by the warmth of the bed and the sound of his voice.

  There was an absence of sound, and her eyes flew open. How long since he'd quit reading? She glanced over and saw him staring at her. He had his head propped on one arm, and the soft expression in his eyes made her mouth go dry.

  "Sorry I fell asleep," she whispered. "You read well."

  His gaze never left her face. "It didn't seem that way when you were snoring.

  "I don't snore!"

  He grinned. "Gotcha." His gaze drifted to the twins. "The girls are both sleeping. You want me to move them to their beds?"

  She realized what she wanted more than anything was for the four of them to be together. For his warm expression to stay right there pinning her to the pillow. "Not yet," she whispered. Her gaze locked with his, and she couldn't look away.

  He leaned nearer, over the top of his sleeping daughter. Close enough Shannon could feel his breath on her face. Near enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. She lost herself in that gaze. His head started down and she knew he was going to kiss her. Holding her breath, she waited until his warm lips brushed hers. A faint impression of skin-to-skin was all she got before he jerked back and slipped from the bed before she could say a word or even register how that kiss had felt.

  "Jack?" she managed to say.

  He was fleeing toward the door, but he turned at the sound of his name. "I'm sorry, Shannon, that was out of line."

  "I'm your wife," she said. Where had she gotten the courage to imply she welcomed his kiss?

  "Blair " He ran his hand through his hair, disrupting it even more.

  Shannon slipped out of bed, avoiding Kylie, and went on bare feet to where he stood. "I know you loved her, Jack. And she loved you. She'd want you to be able to go on, to make a new life and be happy. Blair wouldn't expect you to mourn the rest of your life. We can make this a real marriage if we want to. If we decide to try to learn to love one another." She couldn't believe she was saying those words. He'd think she was brazen and bold, but she had to speak her piece.

  Love was a choice, Allie had said. Shannon believed it too. She put her hand on his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. There was a war going on inside him, and he was the only one who could decide what their future was to be.

  His hands came down on her shoulders, and he pulled her toward him. Her pulse gave a leap of joy, but it stumbled almost as quickly.

  "No!" He thrust her away and fled the room.

  Shannon stood in the empty hallway with the breeze from the open window blowing through her thin nightgown.

  15

  JACK HAD BEEN A BEAR WITH A SORE HEAD SINCE LAST NIGHT. ON THE drive to and from the mustang camp, he had barely spoken. Shannon wasn't about to ask him to go with her after work to find the key to the lockbox they'd found in the motor home. She decided to ride over to her uncle's ranch on horseback while Jack sequestered himself in his office to write out monthly bills.

  She left the girls watching a video while Enrica cooked supper. It wouldn't be dark for a few hours, so she decided to take a detour through the canyon. When she stepped outside, the back of her neck prickled as though someone was watching her. She glanced carefully around the landscape but saw no one. It must have been her imagination. She hadn't seen or heard from the intruder or Mary Beth in days, though Shannon had called and texted her cell phone several times.

  The trail through the canyon was a prettier ride, though a bit harder on the horse. She didn't think the mare would complain, though she wished she had jewel to ride. With the leather reins in her hands and her knees pressing against the saddle, she was at home. The sun baked the skin on her arms, and the steady gait of the horse bounced the cares of the week off her back. Rounding the trail past the wash, she reined in the mare and glanced around. Had she heard something? Carefully staring through the pinon and mesquite trees, she watched for movement. A bird took flight, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  She urged the horse forward again just as a slither of movement came from her left. This time she wasn't going to stop. Digging her heels into the mare's flank, she took off for the house that she could see now. Almost immediately she heard the sound of hoofbeats following. She dared a glance toward the sound and saw a big man mounted on a black horse chasing her. He was too far back to tell for sure, but she was sure it was the guy who had broken into her house and attacked her in the kitchen. Had he been watching her from the hills at Jack's ranch? No wonder she'd sensed something.

  She urged the mare into a full-out run. Crouching over the horse's neck, she raced for the safety of the house. She knew where a gun was stashed. If the situation hadn't been so perilous, she would have laughed at the way the man sat in the saddle. He was like a sack of potatoes, letting the horse's gait toss him around. At least it slowed him down.

  She reached the house well ahead of her pursuer. Unlocking the door, she leaped inside and slammed it behind her. Throwing the dead bolt, she checked the other doors, then ran to the office and snatched up the shotgun on top of the bookcase. It wasn't loaded, so she jammed two shells into the chamber, then pumped it so it was ready to fire.

  The door rattled and she ran to it. "I've got a gun!" she shouted. "I wouldn't mind taking you out."

  The knob stopped its movement, then she saw the man's dark head bob past the window. He was heading to the back door. She rushed to the kitchen where she saw the keys she'd come here to find. Stuffing them in her pocket, she watched the doorknob. The weakest link was this door. Any man worth the label could kick it in. The frame around it was rotting, and the latch didn't fully connect.

  But the door stayed shut. And quiet. The silence unnerved her. She could sense him waiting. She tiptoed to the sink and glanced out through the window. Her mare was still out at the hitching post. Maybe she'd try for a quick getaway. But no, t
hat wouldn't work. He might be lurking right outside the door.

  She had no choice but to call for help. Rick would be closer, but Jack would be furious if she didn't call him. She punched in the number on her cell phone.

  He answered on the second ring. "Shannon, where are you?"

  "At my uncle's. A guy chased me here on horseback."

  "On my way."

  The sound of Jack's breathing rattled through the phone. She heard his boot heels clatter over the porch, then the slam of his truck door. "I'm going to call Rick," he said. "He might get there first."

  "I'm safe right now. I've got a shotgun pointed at the door." She strained to hear anything past her gasps for breath.

  "I'll call you right back."

  The phone went dead in her ear and she swallowed past her dry throat. Without Jack's voice, she was alone. Where was the intruder? He wasn't likely to chase her here then leave her alone. She tipped her head to the side and listened. Was that a creak from upstairs? Stepping to the bottom of the staircase, she scanned the part of the hallway that she could see. When her phone rang, she nearly screamed.

  "Rick's not home," Jack said. "I'm almost there though. Where is the guy?"

  "I think he might be upstairs," she whispered. "I heard something" She glanced around for somewhere to barricade herself until Jack got there. Maybe the office. She started for the doorway off the stairway hall, but a sudden movement on the steps made her turn and swing up the gun.

  The man who had attacked her weeks ago in the kitchen rushed down the steps toward her. In a split second, she registered that he was dressed in camo gear and had close-cropped dark hair and a scar on his forehead. His teeth were bared. Her gaze fastened on his handgun, and almost without thinking, she fired the shotgun. She had aimed the warning shell at his feet, and splinters flew from the steps. He recoiled when the wood exploded at his boots and nearly fell. He stood and brought his gun around as she pumped the gun again and aimed at his chest.

  The breath seemed squeezed from her lungs. It was the closest she'd ever come to killing a man. "Move and your liver will be on the back wall," she said. "This is a scatter gun and there will be nothing left of you." Her voice quavered.

  "If I squeeze off one round, you're dead," he said, his voice calm. "I'd say it's a standoff."

  "With one difference," she panted, her fingers pressing the trigger. "You don't want to kill me because then you'll never get what you want."

  He smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of Jack's truck wiped the smirk from his face.

  "That's my husband," Shannon said. "You don't want to meet him."

  Footsteps pounded up the porch. The door rattled, then the wood splintered as Jack kicked it in. Her attention was diverted, and in that split moment, the man bolted up the steps and disappeared around the corner.

  The strength ran out of Shannon's legs, and she collapsed onto the bottom step as Jack rushed into the house brandishing some kind of automatic gun that was as big as a cannon. She smiled weakly. "You think you're taking out an army?"

  His gaze swept the room. "Where is he?"

  "Gone." Her hand shook as she pointed upstairs. A window shattered from somewhere on the second floor, and she heard a scrabbling sound on the pump shed roof. That must be how he'd gotten up there.

  Jack started toward the door, and her teeth began to chatter. She rocked back and forth on the step until he came back inside.

  "He got away," Jack said.

  She was so cold. "I want to go home."

  He helped her to her feet, and she burrowed against his chest instinctively. He stilled, then his arms came around her and he gripped her in a hold that was the most secure she'd ever felt.

  "I've got you," he crooned in her ear.

  When she was eight, she'd climbed a ladder that had been left out. Once she was on the barn roof, she couldn't get down. It was too high, too scary. Her father found her and told her he'd catch her if she jumped into his arms. And he had. He'd said those same words to her that Jack whispered against her hair. And then he'd dropped her.

  There was danger in leaning too heavily on someone else. Shannon forced herself to remember Jack's reaction last night. It gave her the strength to push away. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smiled. "Thanks."

  "Why didn't you tell me you wanted to come over here? I would have brought you."

  "You weren't speaking to me," she said, clamping down on her teeth so they didn't chatter. She didn't wait for his answer but shoved open the shattered door and stepped out onto the porch. The sun was beginning to go down.

  "What do you think you're doing?" Jack stood with his hands on his hips and his hat pushed to the back of his head. "We need to report this to the sheriff."

  "I'm fixing to head home." She grabbed the mare's reins. "I'll call the sheriff from there."

  "That guy just chased you across the desert. How'd he know you were out there?"

  "I think he was watching the ranch. I sort of sensed it but thought it was my imagination." She mounted and settled into the saddle. "I can't leave the mare here," she pointed out.

  "I'll ride her back." He made a swipe for the reins, but the horse backed away.

  "If you're worried, you can follow me in the truck. It's four-wheel drive. I can take the long way through the desert rather than through the canyon."

  She wheeled and started out across the desert. She heard Jack mutter, but the wind snatched the meaning of his words. Peeking back, she saw he was following in the truck. She probably shouldn't have been so difficult. He could have ridden the mare and she could have taken the truck, but she needed the time to collect her thoughts. And her courage.

  She glanced to her right and saw jewel's outline on the craggy outcropping. Reining in her horse, she whistled softly through her teeth. The black stallion began to pick his way down the rocks toward her. He'd nearly reached her when his head came up and his ears went back. He turned to stare into the darkness behind them, then snorted and ran off.

  Was that guy out there? Shannon shuddered and urged her mare into a trot.

  JACK TURNED ON HIS HIGH BEAMS TO ILLUMINATE THE WAY, BUT THE MARE pulled ahead of the light and made better time than he did in his truck. There were too many holes and washes to go very fast. Just his being behind Shannon should be a deterrent to whoever was following her.

  The guy could have shot her. What was the money thing all about? His response to her last night had scared the fire out of him. She burned as hot as the Triple-M brand in his mind, scorching his memories of Blair, tossing his notions of what he had planned for his life onto a bonfire.

  He killed the engine and watched Shannon dismount. She dragged her left foot as she led the mare to the barn. He got out and jogged to intercept her. "You go on into the house. You're limping. Did the guy hurt you?"

  "No, I'm fine."

  But she didn't protest when he took the reins from her, though she followed him into the barn. "Supper is probably on the table," he said. "Enrica's gonna be meaner than a junkyard dog if her meal's ruined."

  "All the more reason to wait for you." She gave a mock shudder, and they began to walk together toward the barn.

  "Did you whistle for that horse? The big black stallion?"

  "That's Jewel. My dad got him just before he died. My uncle let him roam the ranch."

  He wouldn't mind getting a closer look at the stallion. "You want to bring him here?"

  She looked at him for a moment. "I don't know that he'd come. I'd like him to get used to staying on the property though. He could roam for miles."

  "Where'd your dad get him?"

  She hiked the leg of her jeans and propped her booted foot on a bale of hay. "I'm not really sure. He's got a brand on him that shows he's a thoroughbred. He has this lovely fluid motion when he moves. And he can run like a devil wind."

  "I'd like to get a better look at him." Something nagged at him, a memory or story his dad had mentioned. "With all the excitemen
t, did you get the keys you went after?"

  She dug in her pocket and pulled them out, jingling them in front of his face. "Yep."

  He finished currying the horse, then took the keys. "Quite a fistful. What do they all go to?"

  "Who knows? Uncle Earl kept everything he ever owned. This hunk of keys is an accumulation of his whole life."

  "Did your cousin find what he was looking for?"

  "I don't know. I haven't talked to him. I didn't see the keys I loaned him on the counter though, so I'm guessing he hasn't. I'll check in with him later."

  He motioned for her to go ahead of him out of the barn, then slid the door closed. "I'll call the sheriff while you go get the box."

  "Back in a minute." Her gait was awkward as she ran ahead of him and disappeared inside.

  The limp he'd noticed several times before they married was back. He should probably insist she see a doctor. He called the sheriff and explained what happened, then stopped to pet the dogs. Shannon met him in the foyer when he stepped inside the door. The aroma of fried chicken greeted him. She had the metal box in her hand.

  "Let's go to the office," he said. "Quick, before Enrica comes after us with a butcher knife." He liked the sound of her laughter, but she quickly muffled it and followed him down the hall to the office. He swung the door shut and she set the box on his desk.

  "Enrica will be pounding at the door any minute. How'd she do fried chicken with no wheat?"

  "Rice flour," he muttered, peering at the tiny lock. He sorted through the jumble of keys on the ring. Not many were small enough to fit. He tried three and none of them opened it. "There's one more." The key slid easily into the slot, and there was a click when he turned it. "Got it!"