Sleepless in Montana

by Cait London

  “We shouldn’t have run over those tire prints that night, trying to get him,” Hogan said, lashing at himself. Carley’s attacker was back and threatening, and she can’t take a second attack.

  He turned slowly, tethering his frustration, his fear for Carley. He stared at the glass Jemma held out, watched the swift way she downed hers and hurried for another. She stared at the red wine, held it up to the light to study it. “Expensive.”

  She glanced at Hogan, who was still holding the glass. He saw Carley’s face, pale and shattered after her attack, in the dark red liquid. For a moment, he heard his brother’s shouts, Jemma’s and Carley’s cries....

  Jemma slashed out a hand, dismissing Hogan’s regrets. “That’s old stuff... the tread marks. The area was rocky anyway. He could have stolen any car; no one around here used to bother to take their keys out of the ignition. Let it go.... We’ve got a real problem. Dinah is scared, and she’s called Mitch and Aaron. They’re tying up business and they’ll both be here for as long as it takes. She knows good and well that Ben and Carley’s brothers are the best men to protect Carley.”

  Hogan watched her pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Here, as in Kodiak land?”

  “Where else?” Jemma took a deep breath, her gray eyes steady upon his. “Dinah and Ben never knew anything about that summer, or the messages the bastard has sent Carley through the years. Dinah only knows that Carley is being threatened now— Dinah opened a package addressed to Carley. It was a pair of panties. ‘Wear this when we meet,’ he’d written.... Sick weirdo. Dinah thinks it’s because some creep got mad at Dinah’s Temporary Employment Service, because they wouldn’t hire him. I don’t think so.... It’s the same guy. He also sent her own panties from that night—”

  Her eyes were huge, haunted now, filled with fear for Carley. “Hogan, he’s had them all these years, saving them. He’s so sick and he wants to get her.”

  Despite his rage and fear for Carley, Hogan noticed that Jemma was shivering and pale. He took her glass from her. “Sit down.”

  She swung a fist into the couch, then her nails dug deep into the woven material. “I can’t. I’m so mad.”

  “You didn’t know that would happen, Jemma,” he began reasonably as he placed their glasses on an old chest he’d refinished. He studied the large piece of flint there, the layers of color running from beige to gray. How many times had each of them crucified themselves for not protecting sweet young Carley that night?

  “Didn’t I? I should have—a girl, unprotected and somewhere she shouldn’t be. But oh, no, I didn’t think about what could happen to Carley,” she said too tightly, and again Hogan suspected that Jemma’s life had not been easy.

  “The same thing could have happened to you.”

  “I could have dealt with it. And I would have given that bastard a fight. Carley isn’t built that way, not then or now.”

  Jemma walked to Hogan and shoved a finger into his silk-clad chest. “Dinah and Carley are coming here. And we’re all going to stay at Ben’s house. You’re going along with this, Hogan, and you’re going to make friends with Ben. We’re all going to be one big happy family until this is over. You are not— repeat not— going to upset Carley or Dinah even more by tangling with Ben.”

  While Hogan was dealing with the idea of Carley, endangered and terrified, and Jemma’s ordering him into a relationship with Ben, she sailed in for another hit on him. “For Carley’s sake, to get her out of Seattle, Ben has agreed to fake a terminal illness. He’s agreed to this because while he doesn’t know what happened years ago, he does know she’s being stalked.... Hogan, you’re not ruining it. If Ben can give, so can you. Dinah knew that this was no time for pride and the past, not when Carley’s life was involved, and she asked him to help. Ben called Carley and requested that all his family be together.”

  Hogan stared at her; he withheld his need to lash out at Jemma, his temper simmering. He pushed her finger aside; it returned to jab at him again. “I’m in the middle of this one, bub. You’re not shoving me away like you do Dinah and the rest. They love you, though I don’t know why. You’re in on this whether you like it or not. One wrong move from you, and I’ll crucify you.”

  His temper did surge, fired by her stormy mood. He wrapped her hand in his, holding it away. “You think I’d endanger Carley? Or hurt her?”

  “She’s hurt every time you and Ben go at it. Not the hot kind of mad, where everything is out in the open, but the cold, slashing, bitter kind that is worse. You tear her apart, the both of you. I’ve watched it happen for years.”

  Hogan flung away her hand. “You’re not one of the family. You don’t know what goes on.”

  “Tell that to Carley or to Ben. He appreciates me.”

  “He’s got Maxi Dove, his housekeeper, to keep him happy. She moved in—ready to give birth to Savanna— just after Dinah moved out. Maxi has never named Savanna’s father, but then, moving in with Ben said a lot, didn’t it?” Hogan resented the bitterness in his tone, the way Jemma could rake it out of him.

  “Will you stop growling? Ben saw Maxi as someone in need, the way Mitch was in Chicago. He needed a housekeeper for all of you, and she needed a refuge for her baby. It’s worked out, and Dinah has never said one thing about their relationship, so why should you? Dinah will do what has to be done to protect Carley, just as the rest of us will. The police can’t find traces of this guy and at least here, she’ll have good protection. If there is one thing I know about Kodiak men, it’s that they won’t let anyone harm their loved ones.”

  Her eyes flashed, the color of steel, slicing at him. “You won’t let your family down, not even Ben, if it came down to it. I know it. You know it. So don’t try that dark stormy look at me. You may terrify other people, but you don’t me. I know you too well.”

  Hogan fought for calm. There she was, stabbing inside him without caution.

  “Fine,” he managed tightly. “What’s being done to find him?”

  “You’re the hunter, so are your brothers. If it started here, he’ll probably trace her back here. Then you Sasquatches will take him out. That’s the plan. You’re hunters, and you know what you’re doing. You’ll get that rat.”

  Hogan eased onto the couch, staring at the fire. Jemma was right. Carley’s best protection lay in her father and brothers. Kodiaks did know how to protect their own, and in a small rural community, an outsider would be noticed immediately.

  “What’s your part in this family get-together? How are you going to keep Carley from suspecting anything is wrong? Ben is hard and healthy as ever.”

  Jemma flopped down at the other end of the couch and lay back, stretching, her arms behind her head. She placed her booted feet across his lap. “That’s the beauty, Hogan, old buddy. I’ve worked a neat little plan. Savanna is a nurse, she’ll help.”

  “You always have a plan, if not ten.” Hogan noted the mud bits that had crumbled onto his silk slacks. He eased Jemma’s feet to the floor and brushed away the bits.

  “Hey! I’m tired and I’ve got a hard night ahead of me, then driving back to Big Timber and flying back to Seattle. We’ve just got time for this little chat, and then I’m on my way. My feet are tired.”

  “Your mouth isn’t.” With a sigh, Hogan allowed her boots to return to rest across his thighs.

  “You could save money by wearing imitation silk, not the real thing. These days polyester is really amazing,” Jemma noted, but Hogan was frowning at the fire, thinking back to that night—

  And Carley’s terrified scream....

  *** ***

  Chapter Two

  “Not bad at all,” Jemma was saying as she studied the firelight dancing on the boards of his varnished, gleaming cathedral ceiling. The ceiling fan’s shadows circled rhythmically, breaking the firelight patterns. Her hair ripped dark red streaks across his cream-colored upholstery, matching Hogan’s seething anger.

  Once more, Hogan saw Carley’s white face, the terror in her sil
very eyes, and realized his fingers were crushing the cushioned arm of his couch.

  “You’ve got that look, all drawn in and dangerous.” Jemma sat up in a startling, but typically-Jemma move. She tapped her fingers on Hogan’s Crying Woman statue and picked it up to study it. “Not bad. I could run a gallery for you here while I’m shooting the television pilot. You know, we could market a line of these babies, maybe pour plaster over them or something and mass produce them for tourist shops. I know...make candles like this. Put some sage or wildflower scent into them.”

  With a sigh, Hogan took the statue away from her. An early piece, Crying Woman held his young whimsy and dreams; he’d kept it to remind him of when he’d wanted a home and family of his own. Now, he felt old and worn and restless, and he didn’t like the hard, quick way Jemma appraised his work, calculating dollars and profit. “What television pilot?”

  She grinned at him. “That’s the beauty of it. Carley thinks I need her support when I make my pilot effort. With Ben’s illness going for us, one backup plan or the other will keep Carley here, and she’s looking forward to her favorite Sasquatches turning up. Until this is over, we’re all going to be one happy family, like it or not.”

  Hogan leveled a look at her. “You keep forgetting that you’re not one of the family.”

  Familiar with Jemma’s money-making schemes, Hogan studied her. He’d seen her work, driving hard; he’d seen her play men to give nothing and get everything. Jemma could be seductive and feminine, and sometimes she played that game with his brothers, who obviously enjoyed her teasing. Hogan didn’t. Jemma’s agile mind almost frightened him.

  “Don’t tell me. You’ve found some hot-pants-for-brains backer for another can’t-lose project. You’re going to make money while we’re protecting Carley. Waste not, want not, right?”

  “I just love it when you look like that, as if waiting for a ton of bricks to fall on you and not knowing which way to run.”

  She threw out her arms, and her husky laughter echoed in the shadowy room. “You got it. I’m going to be ‘Fly Fisher Woman.’ If this works out, I’ll be peddling a weekly television segment on Montana fly-fishing. You know, teach women how to do it. Who knows? Maybe I can set up vacation fly-fishing schools, get my name on rods and reels? How’d you like that idea, Jemma’s Rods and Reels?”

  Hogan closed his eyes for a moment. For a moment, he almost felt dizzy. He reached for his glass of wine and quickly took a sip.

  Her eyes gleamed at him as she shot out her hands. “I could develop a whole resort idea off this. Health retreats, meditation, couple getaways...”

  Hogan stared at her. Jemma always could stop his thoughts. When they started to move again, he tried for a calm tone and realized it came out strangled. “Unless you’ve changed, you’ve never liked the outdoors. When did you learn how to fly fish?”

  “Phooey, smooey. I never have. I’ve never known how to do most of the things I’ve done, including working on a trawler off the coast, or shucking oysters. But all of you Kodiaks know how to fish just great. I’ve got until July to learn. Les doesn’t want to get caught in a freak snowstorm, and I’ve promised him beautiful weather. I remember watching all of you while I was lying on the bank reading fashion magazines.”

  When she looked at him and blinked her lashes, a cold chill ran up Hogan’s back. Jemma always had that look when she was playing someone.

  “You were the best,” she said, “or at least a close second to Ben. I don’t want him mad at me— he’s got that thin Kodiak patience— so you’re the logical choice. Mitch and Aaron are likely to lose it too quick. You’ve always been the coolest of the lot, though you’ve lost it once or twice with me. You get to teach me, bud.”

  Hogan almost choked again; he had just sipped wine to steady his nerves. The idea of Jemma slinging a fly rod, line, and hooks around his head gave him the chills. “Not a chance.”

  “I want to be here for Carley, Hogan,” Jemma said softly. “I can’t afford to take time away from work—”

  He eyed Jemma. She’d never failed to slash through the easy, planned rhythms of his life. “You should have that first million by now, the way you’re going. What are you doing anyway? The last time I heard you were a radio sports announcer.”

  “Gave that one up. They wanted to tie me down with five-year exclusive contracts, that sort of thing. I’m not going exclusive for anyone but myself. Sold limousines for a time, but I made a bundle. I’m into stocks and trading— Aaron helped me get started. By the way, I’d like to check my latest investments and see how they’re doing on your land-line computer. My cell isn’t receiving out here.”

  “Fine. Do what you want. You will anyway,” Hogan said, leaning his head back to study the fan and firelight shadows upon the ceiling. Jemma’s mind could roll in twenty directions at once; his was still prowling through the past and Carley’s attack— who was her attacker?

  Whoever he was had to know about the local Celestial Virgin story, or knew someone who lived in the area. He had to know where Carley was that night—

  Jemma bounced to her feet and headed toward his office. After staring into the fire, hating Carley’s attacker, and wondering how he could manage a relationship with Ben, even a short-term one, Hogan sighed and went to find Jemma.

  She was busily punching keys on his computer. “I knew that investment in Slinky Lace would pay off. Working women don’t like to wear plain cotton bras anymore. Slinky Lace moved into the large women’s sizes, added more support and their promo is great. Plus-size women love the boy-leg cut... doesn’t ride up either. Yeah! I’ve tripled my investment since this morning.”

  She stood and stretched, arms over her head, revealing a smooth expanse of creamy stomach.

  Hogan’s throat dried. He looked away, stunned by his impulse to flatten his dark hand upon that pale skin, to feel the curved form move and arc beneath his touch. The line was perfect, feminine, and soft, a visual reminder that a woman’s body could hold life and nurture— He inhaled her feminine scent and frowned. He didn’t want to enjoy any part of Jemma and her computer-for-profit brain.

  Jemma looked at him. “Mitch and Aaron can be trusted to make things run smoothly. I came here early to get your promise that you won’t cause trouble with Ben. They still love each other, you know.”

  “Dinah married another man. That doesn’t sound like love.”

  “It wasn’t love. It was companionship. Joseph helped set her up in the temporary work business. She kept the Kodiak name, not Joseph Merrick’s last name. Joseph gave her warmth and protection when she needed it. She gave him the family he’d always wanted. He made certain that Carley and Aaron knew who their father was, and that they kept their Kodiak names as well. It was a fair exchange that suited them both for a time.”

  Jemma pushed her hand through her hair, studied Hogan, then touched his cheek. She smiled when he jerked away from her light touch. “You look so much like Ben.”

  “Aaron looks like Ben. Old Jedidiah, Ben’s grandfather, and Aaron, Ben’s father, all have that same blunt, hard look— wide forehead, deep-set eyes, broad high cheekbones, an ordinary blunt nose, a hard line for a mouth, and a jaw that could cut granite.”

  “What a description. Those are your ancestors, too, Hogan. Jedidiah was your great-grandfather and old Aaron was your grandfather. Aaron has wavy blond hair and is blue-eyed. But you are a reflection of Ben in every way, and he knows it. Maybe that’s why you can’t get along, because he resents himself as a younger man. That senseless macho old dog, new dog stuff. Do you ever wonder how beautiful life would have been if he hadn’t lost that leg?”

  “Skip the psychology. Ben never wanted me, the bastard son.” The words were bitter on his tongue. Life hadn’t been beautiful for Hogan; his earliest memories were those of trying to please a man who treated him coldly.

  “Still feeling sorry for yourself, aren’t you? Aaron and Carley saw you as their protector, the big brother they could depend on. When they came
back to visit, it was you who protected them, made certain they stayed. You were there, supporting them, when they would have run back to Dinah and Seattle the first time Ben lit into them for saddling a horse wrong. You were almost as much of a parent as he, telling them stories about Montana, making them love the ranch and country life. You were the one who gave him the idea to get Mitch involved with dogs and calves. I know who spent time with Carley, explaining that sex wasn’t dirty—”

  She smiled impishly, confirming Hogan’s suspicions that she had tormented Ben in the early years by asking questions about sex. “Ben jumps and looks hounded when the subject is brought up.”

  Her expression stilled into solemn regard. “You had an easy way of explaining everything. You kept that family together, and probably Ben, too, after they broke up, and it took a big chunk out of you.”

  “Are you done yet?” Hogan disliked the harsh tone of his voice and disliked her picking through his life.

  “No way. I’ve been in this war for years, Hogan. I saw how you deflected Ben when he wanted too much from Aaron and Carley— I saw how you put softer ideas into him, like buying Carley a locket that time. And he listened. He respected your input. You could have taken off long before you did, but you kept all the Kodiaks together. I know you got up in the night with Carley more than I did. That you talked that soft, easy way to her until dawn, and then you went out to work on the ranch. I know you jerked Aaron out of trouble that could have sent him back to Seattle, and I know what you’ve done for Mitch. You stood up for Dinah when Aaron said everything was her fault— that the family came apart because of her leaving Ben. Their stories about you say that you’ve paid a big price.”

  “That’s over.” Hogan wanted her to stop dragging out the painful memories—

  “No, it’s not. It’s buried inside you, festering. You were an adult before your time, almost a parent to the others. Maybe that’s why you don’t know how to laugh or play.”