Should Have Been Her Child

by Stella Bagwell

  She desperately needed to turn and walk away. To put a few feet between them so that she could breathe without drawing in his seductive scent, so that she could look at anything other than his chiseled lips and damning eyes. But where she was concerned, Jess had always been a magnet. She couldn’t move away. Not just yet.

  “So you’re the undersheriff now,” she said softly. “What happened to your job with the border patrol?”

  The grooves bracketing his lips deepened with a tight grimace. “I resigned. For personal reasons.”

  Even though Victoria was in an occupation that exposed her to many people and even more gossip, she’d never heard anyone say why Jess Hastings had returned to San Juan County four months ago. And she’d not been brave enough to ask. But now the question was on the tip of her tongue, making her bite down to keep the words from passing her lips.

  “How’s your medical practice?” he asked.

  “Very busy.”

  Her short answer told him she didn’t want to discuss her life with him. Which didn’t surprise Jess. She’d stopped wanting to share anything with him a long time ago.

  “I guess you’re wanting to know what I’m doing here?”

  She nodded once. “It would help.”

  To her surprise, he took hold of her upper arm and led her to a nearby leather couch. Before she sank onto one of the cushions she was struck with the fact of how mushy her knees had grown and how her arm burned where he touched her.

  Easing down beside her, Jess pulled off his Stetson and combed his fingers through his short, sandy hair.

  “I suppose you know the ranch hands have been out searching for Ross’s stallion,” he began.

  “Yes. But Marina informed me that he hasn’t been found.”

  Jess stroked his fingers along one side of his jaw as he studied her waiting eyes.

  “No. The men found something else,” he said grimly. “A body.”

  She wanted to gasp, but the air was suddenly trapped in her lungs. She shook her head, then shook it again. “Did you say a body?”

  He continued to search her face. “That’s right. Partially decomposed. But enough to tell us it was human and we think male.”

  “Oh dear Lord,” she whispered. “Who—”

  “I’ve been questioning your family and some of the hands on the ranch,” he answered her unfinished question. “No one seems to have any idea of who this person might have been or why he was on the T Bar K. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something.”

  Incredulous, her gaze latched on to his. “Me? How could I know anything?”

  One sandy brow lifted sardonically. “You live here, too.”

  “Yes, but I don’t know—” She stopped, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “This body—are you—do you think there was foul play involved or someone just came along and died of natural causes or an accident?”

  His thumb and forefinger slid along the brim of his hat, flattening any bumps or dips from the expensive felt. She tried not to notice his big hands or remember the pleasure they used to give her.

  “You’re a doctor. You know it takes time to determine those sorts of things.”

  She drew in a needy breath, then slowly released it. “Yes. But—there might have been clues—”

  His smile was slow and a bit too indulgent for Victoria’s liking. But then, she didn’t want Jess Hastings to smile at her in any way or for any reason. He was a silver-tongued wolf who’d gobbled up her heart, then spit out the pieces.

  “Those are to be shared with the sheriff’s department,” he said shortly. “Not the Ketchum family.”

  She wanted to stand and walk away from him, but she was afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her, so she stayed where she was and tried to hold her temper in check. Crossing words with Jess would get her nowhere.

  “Well, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can tell you.”

  “You might be surprised about that,” he said quietly.

  She tried not to shiver as a strange chill traveled down her spine. “You can’t think I would know anything about this person.”

  His expression didn’t change. “Oh, I don’t know. I have a habit of thinking things I shouldn’t. Has anyone made you angry in the past few months? So angry that you wanted to kill him?”

  She stared at him in stunned fascination. “You’re kidding.”

  His gray eyes didn’t blink. “Finding a body is nothing to kid about.”

  And she could see that he was serious. Fear, then anger poured though her body, making her go cold, then hot. “You just told me you didn’t know if foul play was involved or not. So why do you want to know if anyone has angered me to the extent of committing murder?”

  He smiled, but there was no humor behind the curve of his lips. “You always were a little too sharp for me. Weren’t you, Tori?”

  “Don’t call me that!” she whispered icily. He was the only person who’d ever called her by that nickname and as far as she was concerned he’d lost his right to be that intimate with her. “And as for your question, no one has angered me in the past months. But a few years ago—I could have killed you. Given the chance,” she added.

  Jess was a man known for keeping his head. It was one of the reasons he’d excelled at his job. A man with a cool head didn’t miss anything going on around him. He could reason, stay aware and stay alive. But there had always been something about Victoria that heated his blood. And it wasn’t just the lush, feminine shape of her. One glance, one word from her had the power to ignite an explosion in him. And she’d just set him off.

  He said, “I guess Ketchum blood must be stronger than that Hippocratic oath you took.”

  She was shocked to see her fingers had clenched, forming fists at her sides. She forced her hands to relax and her lungs to breathe. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  His gray eyes slipped downward to where her breasts pushed against pale blue cashmere. The fabric was as soft as her skin and a knot twisted in his gut at the memory of her full breasts cupped in his hands, the rosy brown nipples begging to be kissed.

  He looked at the floor, then back up to her face. “The oath is to save lives, not take them. But—where I’m concerned you only see me through Ketchum eyes.”

  “My family never disliked you.”

  He let out a harsh laugh, then rose to his feet and crossed the room to where a low fire crackled and spit in a native rock fireplace. “Tucker couldn’t stand the thought of you being anywhere near me.”

  She wanted to point out that his comments had nothing to do with his visit to the T Bar K this evening, but she didn’t. For the past four months, since she’d heard Jess had come back to San Juan county, she’d known a time would come when she would have to face him again, to discover for herself if he held any bitterness about the past. She didn’t have to wonder anymore.

  “My father didn’t try to prevent me from seeing you.”

  His head turned away from the fire to stab her with a hot glare. “Not in words. No, the old man was too sly for that. He knew just how to get to you. And he did.”

  Her jaw clenched. “I thought four years would have made you see how wrong you were. But it’s obvious you’re still just as blind and bullheaded as you ever were!”

  “You’re the blind one, Victoria. You were then. And you are now.”

  If he’d spoken the words in anger she would have understood them. But there had been no animosity in his voice. Just a quiet sort of warning.

  Before she realized what she was doing, she left the couch and went to stand in front of him. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

  He took a deep breath, then reached for a small framed photo on the fireplace mantel. It was a snapshot of Tucker and Amelia in their younger days, back when their four children had been small and the oldest, Hugh, had still been alive.

  “Everybody but you knows Tucker Ketchum was a shady character—”

  “You don’t—”

  “That’s one of the reaso
ns why this ranch is so big and profitable. And I’m afraid it’s a likely reason a body was discovered facedown in an arroyo on the T Bar K.”

  She pushed at the heavy wave of nearly black hair dipping over her eye. “You’re despicable! You’re not fit to be this county’s undersheriff.”

  “Why? Because I didn’t hang around and let the old man corrupt me, too?”

  Raw fury brought her hand up and swinging at his face. He caught her wrist easily and jerked her up against him.

  “This whole thing is making you happy, isn’t it?” She flung the question at him. “You’ve just been waiting for some reason to spite my family. And now you have it in the form of a dead body!”

  His arm slipped around her back to still her squirms. “Nothing about this is making me happy, Victoria.” His eyes suddenly focused on her lips and then his head bent. “Especially not this.”

  A kiss was the last thing she’d expected from the man and for a moment she was frozen with shock at the feel of his hard lips spreading over hers. Then her hands lifted to his broad shoulders and pushed. The feeble gesture of disapproval caused his lips to ease a fraction away from hers. But his hold on her back tightened, making her breasts flatten against him, her hips arch into his.

  “Jess—”

  If she had whispered his name in protest, he would have released her. But there had only been hunger in the sound of her voice and his desire fed on it like flames to the wind.

  Time ceased to exist as his lips searched the sweetness of her mouth, his hands roamed the warmth of her back, then tangled in the thick waves of her hair.

  Long before he lifted his head, she was clutching folds of his shirt, struggling to keep her knees from buckling. Her breathing was ragged, her heart racing like a wild horse on a lightning-struck mesa. No one but Jess could make her feel so helpless, so alive. So much a woman.

  Dear Lord, nothing had changed, she thought desperately. Four long, lonely years had done nothing to erase this man from her heart.

  “Is this how you question your female suspects nowadays?” she finally managed to ask.

  Slowly, he moved his arm from around her back and she quickly put several inches between the two of them.

  “That wasn’t a question, Tori. That was a statement.”

  She swallowed as she pressed the back of her hand against her burning lips. “The statement being?”

  He smiled, but once again there was no warmth or sincerity behind the expression.

  “That I’m in charge of things now. And the fact that you’re a Ketchum means nothing where the law is concerned.”

  Pain splintered in the middle of her chest, but she somehow met his gaze in spite of it.

  “Is that how you kissed me? As a lawman? Or the Jess I used to know?”

  For long moments his gray eyes simply roamed her flushed face. Then his lips parted, but before he could reply, a knock interrupted him.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Victoria saw a young Native American man dressed similarly to Jess standing in the open doorway of the study. Victoria noticed that his dark, curious glance missed nothing as he took in the sight of her and Jess standing close together on the hearth.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Jess. I thought you’d want to know the head wrangler has arrived back on the ranch. He’s waiting in the bunkhouse.”

  The head wrangler for the T Bar K was Linc Ketchum, Victoria’s cousin. Like the rest of her family, she seriously doubted he would have any answers for the lawmen.

  “I’ll be right there, Redwing,” Jess told him.

  Nodding, the deputy slipped from view. Beside her, Jess made a move to leave the room. Before he could walk away, she reached out and caught his arm.

  One brow arched with mocking inquisition as he paused and glanced down at her.

  “Jess, what does this all mean?”

  The quiet desperation in her voice was a spur in his ribs, both painful and irritating. “We’ll just have to see, now won’t we, Tori?”

  Chilled by his sarcasm, she dropped her hand from his arm. “You’re not the same man I used to know, Jess.”

  His lips thinned, his nostrils flared as the track of his gray eyes burned her face. “No. I’ll never be that man again.”

  Chapter Two

  The night air had grown chilly and mosquitoes were making a feast of her bared forearms, but Victoria was loath to move from her spot on the patio to return inside the house.

  Jess and his deputy had left the ranch more than two hours ago, yet the place was still buzzing—she was still buzzing. And she didn’t like it.

  She hadn’t thought that seeing Jess again would have left her this shaken. And she tried to tell herself it was the circumstances of his appearance that were the real reason she was so disturbed. After all, it wasn’t every day a body was discovered on her family’s land, without any sort of explanation as to why or how it had gotten there.

  “Victoria? I wondered where you’d gotten to.”

  From her chair, she glanced over her shoulder at her brother Ross, then back out to the dark, pine-covered mountain rising like a sentinel over the T Bar K ranch house.

  “For the past hour I’ve been trying to muster up enough energy to leave this chair,” she told him.

  His hand came down on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “You hardly ate any supper. Are you feeling all right?”

  She tried to laugh, but the sound held little cheer. “Remember, I’m the doctor, Ross. I’m supposed to ask that question.”

  He eased his long frame down in the woven lawn chair sitting at an angle to hers. “That’s the trouble with you, Victoria. You’re always taking care of others rather than yourself.”

  At thirty-five, and five years older than Victoria, Ross was the younger Ketchum son. Since their brother Hugh had been killed in an accident with a bull six years ago, Ross had taken total reins of managing the T Bar K. Along with being business savvy, Ross was as handsome as sin and some said as tough as their late father, Tucker. But to Victoria he was always gentle, her rock when no one else was there for her.

  Casting him a wan smile, she said, “I’m all right, Ross. It’s just been a…long day.”

  He sighed. “A hell of a long day,” he agreed.

  “Were you able to contact Seth?”

  “No. He’s out. On a case, more than likely.”

  Their older brother Seth had moved away from the ranch many years ago to become a Texas Ranger. If a problem did arise over the discovered body, Seth would know how to handle it. Victoria could only hope their older brother wouldn’t have to be bothered.

  “It’s just as well. There’s really not a problem. And I don’t foresee one.”

  “How do you figure?” Ross asked.

  She rubbed the mosquito bites on the back of her arm. “Obviously this man wandered onto Ketchum land and died of natural causes or suffered a fall for one reason or another. There’s nothing sinister about that.”

  Ross thoughtfully stroked his chin. “I’m surprised you used that word. Jess didn’t imply there was anything sinister going on.”

  Her mind whirled as she regarded her brother’s rugged face. “That’s not the impression he gave me.”

  Ross’s brows lifted. “Maybe you misread the man.”

  “The only time I misread Jess Hastings was four years ago. When he left San Juan County.”

  But tonight Victoria had read him loud and clear. Especially his kiss. He was out to hurt her, any way he could. And the idea left a terrible ache in her heart.

  “Hell, Victoria,” her brother gently scolded, “I thought you’d gotten Jess Hastings out of your system a long time ago.”

  She rose to her feet with plans to go back inside. “I have. I just haven’t forgotten the hard lesson he taught me.”

  He studied her for long moments. “I hope you had the good sense not to anger the man, Victoria. He’s in a position to help us or hurt us. I wouldn’t want it to be the latter.”

  It didn’t dawn on R
oss that Jess had already hurt her more than anything or anyone ever could. But then Ross didn’t know the whole story behind her and Jess. No one did. And as far as she was concerned, no one ever would.

  “If Jess decides to pursue this thing in a negative way, there’s nothing I can do to stop him,” she said, then hurried inside the house before her brother could say more.

  The baby-fine curls surrounded the child’s head like a red-gold halo. Long curling lashes of the same color lay against cheeks flushed from the warmth of the nearby fireplace.

  Jess’s daughter had been asleep in his arms for some time now, but still he lingered in the rocker, savoring the feel of her warm weight resting against his chest. She was the only thing he’d done right in his life. The only thing he really lived for. Her and his grandparents.

  “Is Katrina asleep? I’ve got your supper heated in the microwave.”

  Jess looked up from his daughter’s face to see Alice, his grandmother, standing a few steps away in the dimly lit living room. She was a tall, rawboned woman, her skin brown and wrinkled by hard work and nearly seventy years of harsh, New Mexico climate. Her hands were big and tough, her hair gray and wiry. But her heart was as gentle as a Chinook wind that melted the winter snows.

  When Jess’s father had died at an early age from pneumonia complicated by alcoholism, he’d left behind a five-year-old son and a wife who’d never really wanted a husband and child in the first place. As soon as Jim Hastings had been planted in the ground, his wife had left for greener pastures.

  Thankfully, Alice and William had been there to take in their grandson and raise him as their own child. Ma and Pa, as Jess called them, were the only real parents he’d ever known. And now they were helping him raise his own daughter. But they were getting too old to see after a rambunctious two-and-a-half-year-old toddler, even if Jess did take her into a day care near Cedar Hill for most of the day.

  “Yeah, she’s asleep. I’ve just been holding her. Thinking how much she’s grown since the two of us came home to the ranch.”

  Alice smiled with affection as she took in the sight of her grandson and great-granddaughter. “She’s really starting to string her words together now. But Pa had to scold her for saying a curse word today.”