by Linda Turner
Long after Joe dropped him at the library, where he’d left his car, Taylor was still asking himself that same question. He didn’t mind admitting that he was a damn good lawyer, and when it came to the law, he always played to win. He could be cutthroat when he had to be, and he didn’t apologize for that. That was his job. His clients paid him a hell of a lot of money to go after the opposition and win a satisfactory judgment for them, and that’s what he did.
When his mother had died and he’d discovered who his father was, his plan had been simple enough. Find Gus McBride and make him pay for being the deadbeat father that he was. In San Diego, Taylor had been confident he could do that with one hand tied behind his back. And he wouldn’t feel an ounce of remorse, he’d assured himself.
But that was before he’d known Gus was dead. Damn the man for once again managing to escape accountability. How was he supposed to make a dead man pay for what he’d done? His brothers and sisters were good people who hadn’t asked for a father who betrayed them or a half brother they still didn’t know existed. When they found out the truth, they were going to be hurt, and like most people, they’d no doubt look for someone to blame. It didn’t take an Einstein to figure out who that would be. They’d loved Gus and would find a way to excuse his behavior. Taylor knew they wouldn’t do the same for him.
And neither would Phoebe.
She slipped into his thoughts uninvited, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. After Joe left him at the library, he spent what was left of the afternoon finding what he could about the McBrides in local history books and avoiding going back to Myrtle’s. For a while, he managed not to think about how good Phoebe felt in his arms, but the memory had been right there on the edge of his consciousness all day, waiting for a chance to dominate his thoughts.
What the hell was he going to do about her? When she found out who he was and his real reason for being in Liberty Hill, she was going to feel that he’d used her to get to the McBrides. She’d hate him for that, and he couldn’t say he blamed her. He had.
He tried to justify his actions—he was only doing what he had to, what was right—but the guilt tightening like a fist in his gut told him there was nothing right about what he was doing. If he intended to go through with his revenge on the McBrides, he had no right to involve her in that. He didn’t need her anymore to gain access to the family or the ranch. Joe was right—bed and breakfasts weren’t his speed. He needed to get a room at the Best Western in Colorado Springs.
But when he left the library and headed back to Myrtle’s, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet. Right or wrong, he’d come too far to change his plans now. He regretted that he’d had to use Phoebe, but at the time, he’d had no other choice. Moving to Colorado Springs wouldn’t change that at this late date. As for that kiss they’d shared, it wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t, he warned himself grimly. He couldn’t let the lady get to him any more than she already had.
Determined to keep his distance, he intended to go upstairs the minute he stepped through Myrtle’s front door, but Phoebe was in the front parlor and there was no avoiding her. She looked up, his eyes met hers, and an emotion he couldn’t put a name to tugged at him, stopping him in his tracks. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he’d kissed her. Suddenly, it only seemed like seconds.
“If you haven’t had supper, there’s a meatloaf and scalloped potatoes on the stove,” she said quietly. “Feel free to help yourself.”
Why did he suddenly feel as if he owed her an explanation of where he’d been all day? He hardly knew the woman. He’d kissed her one time, for heaven’s sake! They weren’t involved or anything. It just a kiss. One kiss. One unforgettable kiss.
Swearing silently, he growled, “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” He should have gone upstairs to his room then—it would have been the smart thing to do—but his feet refused to budge. Instead, he lingered, his gaze falling to the material bunched in her lap. Only just then noticing the needle and thread in her hand, he frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just patching this old quilt,” she replied, spreading out the quilt slightly so he could see its old-fashioned design. From across the room, a blind man couldn’t have missed the tears in it. “My grandmother bought it at an auction and was going to make it into pillows for the bridal suite, but I think I can repair it. It’s a wedding-ring quilt,” she added.
He didn’t have to know much about quilt patterns to know that at one time, brides-to-be made wedding-ring quilts to take with them into their marriages. While he could appreciate the handwork that must have gone into making one, it wasn’t something he normally would have given more than a second glance. But when Phoebe held it with gentle hands, smoothing it over her lap as if she herself had made it, he couldn’t look away. With no trouble whatsoever, he could see the two of them making love under that same quilt.
Like any man, he had his share of sexual fantasies, but not like this. The image was so real, he could almost feel her, taste her, as surely as if she were in his arms. He tried to push the sensual image from his mind, but he was fighting a losing battle. Suddenly hot, aching for her, all he wanted to do was reach for her.
“Taylor? Are you all right?”
Caught up in the fantasy, it was a long moment before he heard her. When he finally realized that he must be staring at her like a starving man who’d suddenly laid eyes on a hot meal for the first time in a month, he felt like a complete idiot. “I’m fine,” he growled. “I just remembered a phone call I have to make. Excuse me.”
He strode up the stairs before she could do anything but blink in surprise, leaving Phoebe staring after him with a pounding heart. For a moment, she’d thought she’d seen something in his eyes…something that made her heart skip and her knees go weak…something that reminded her of yesterday and the kiss they’d shared. Had he felt it, too? That need that wouldn’t go away? Is that why he’d rushed upstairs like the devil himself was after him? Or was her imagination running away with her?
Confused, she was tempted to go knock on his bedroom door and demand some answers. But did she really want to know if he was as attracted to her as she was to him? After all, most of the time, she didn’t even know if she liked him or not!
Disturbed, she decided this wasn’t the time to pursue the subject. It had been a long day, she was tired, and she’d been thinking about him for hours, wondering where he was, if he was as shaken as she was by a kiss she couldn’t forget. He obviously didn’t want to talk, and that might be for the best. The last time she’d felt this way, she’d ignored her common sense and rushed headlong into a relationship with a man who’d only wanted to use her. She wasn’t doing that again. Taylor didn’t seem the type of man to use a woman, but then again, she hadn’t thought Marshall was, either. When it came to men, she always followed her heart, and invariably, she ended up getting hurt. Not this time. This time, she was going to use her head. And her head was telling her to step back and remember what she did know about Taylor. He was an angry, class-A personality from San Diego who was only staying at Myrtle’s because there wasn’t another motel for miles. When he finished his research and returned to California, he wasn’t taking her heart with him.
Satisfied that she finally had her head on straight, she put away her sewing, made sure the house was locked up tight for the night, and went upstairs to bed. Falling asleep should have been easy. In order to get Taylor out of her head, she’d spent the day cleaning the house, and she was exhausted. She took a hot bath, slipped into her favorite nightgown, and crawled into bed.
Later, she couldn’t have said how long she lay there, staring at the dark ceiling over her head—it seemed like forever. And when she finally did fall asleep, Taylor was there in her dreams, waiting for her. He smiled in greeting, held out his hand to her, and just that easily, she stepped into his arms.
When her alarm went off the next morning, she remembered little of the details of her dreams…except that she kept
reaching for Taylor. Shaken by a need that she wanted no part of but that refused to be ignored, she felt panic rising in her and could do nothing to stop it. Later in the day, she and Taylor were going to be riding up into the high country of the McBride ranch with Zeke and Elizabeth. They’d be together all weekend, riding together, possibly sharing a tent….
Images teased her, hot, intimate, sensuous. Her heart slamming against her ribs, she stiffened. No! She couldn’t do it. Not when she’d dreamed of him all night. Not when all she wanted was for him to kiss her again. He’d take one look at her, her face would give her away, and she’d die of mortification. If he ever guessed, she’d want to kill herself.
She’d just make her apologies and he would go without her, she decided as she hurriedly dressed in jeans and a simple white cotton blouse, then went downstairs to start breakfast. The McBrides would understand—after all, the only reason they’d probably included her in the invitation to begin with was because she was Myrtle’s granddaughter and Taylor was staying at Myrtle’s. They hadn’t wanted to exclude her since she obviously heard them invite Taylor along on the trip, and she appreciated that. She really did want to see the wolves she’d heard so much about, but she still couldn’t go. Not with Taylor.
The decision made, she knew she was doing the right thing. Still, she couldn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat when she heard his steps on the stairs. Her hands suddenly not quite steady, she quickly pulled fresh cinnamon rolls from the oven.
“Good morning,” she told Taylor as he stepped into the dining room just as she set the rolls on the sideboard. “The coffee’s hot, there’s homemade jam and fresh fruit on the table, and I was just about to cook some eggs. How would you like yours? Poached? Fried? Scrambled? Or I could make you an omelette—”
“The cinnamon rolls are enough,” he replied. “What time are we supposed to be at the McBrides?”
Put on the spot, she hesitated, then finally said, “Ten-thirty, but I’m not going to be able to go, after all. I don’t know what I was thinking of when I told Zeke I could go. I’ve got two couples coming in next weekend, and I’ve got a lot of work to do before they get here. I’ve got grocery shopping to do, not to mention two bedrooms to clean, sheets to wash. I’d love to see the wolves, but even if I could find a way to go, you don’t need me to tag along. You have work to do, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
Taylor should have been relieved. He’d thought of nothing but her and that damn wedding-ring quilt all night, and by dawn, he’d decided that he had no business going anywhere with her, least of all into the back country, where they would be cut off from the rest of the world for the entire weekend. Granted, Zeke and Elizabeth would be there, so it wasn’t as if he would be completely alone with her, but an entire army of people could have been with them and he knew it wouldn’t have made a difference. There was just something about Phoebe that he couldn’t ignore. The way she moved, the way she kissed…
Irritated with himself for letting his thoughts drift there, he opened his mouth to tell her that he would give the McBrides her regrets, only to hear himself say perversely, “You can’t back out at the last minute. Zeke and Elizabeth are expecting you.”
“They’ll understand.”
“Maybe they will, but I don’t. I thought you wanted to see the wolves.”
“I do.”
“Then why are you looking for an excuse to back out?”
“I’m not!”
“Good. Because if anyone should be going, it’s you. The McBrides are your friends—and you’re the one who wanted to see the wolves.”
Even as the words rolled off his tongue, Taylor wondered what the hell he was doing. He needed some space, some time to get his head on straight and put this crazy desire he had for her in perspective. So what was he doing? Pushing her to go! He was losing his mind—there was no other explanation. And it was all her fault!
So why are you pushing her to go? a voice in his head demanded. You wanted some space—she’s giving it to you. Accept it and be grateful for it!
He should have. He meant to. But in the time it took to blink, he heard himself say, “You were the one who told me I needed to play more. The same applies to you. And don’t worry about all the work you’ve got to do. I’ll help you.”
Hesitating, Phoebe couldn’t believe she was hearing correctly. “You’re going to help me with the laundry?”
“If you need me to. Unless you’ve got a problem with that, of course.”
“You’re a guest,” she reminded him. “Guests don’t do the laundry.”
“And innkeepers don’t drive guests all over the countryside, introducing them to their friends and neighbors,” he pointed out. “But that didn’t stop you from helping me. This is your opportunity to see the wolves. I don’t think you should miss that.”
She should have thanked him for the offer and politely turned him down. Her eyes only had to meet his for her to know that that would have been the smart thing for her to do. But he touched a yearning in her she couldn’t resist, and it had nothing to do with the wolves. She was playing with fire, but she couldn’t resist. Giving in, she sighed, “All right. But you’re not helping me with the laundry when we get back!”
Chapter 6
They were only going to be gone for the weekend, but Zeke and Elizabeth brought enough food and supplies for an army. They were still packing the horses outside the barn behind the homestead when Taylor and Phoebe arrived and added their own bags to the mix. “You never know what you’re going to need,” Zeke said with a twinkle in his eye as he looked pointedly at his wife. “Some people insist on eating like they’re just going into town to a steak house. We’ve got T-bones and pork chops and wine—”
Grinning, Elizabeth retorted, “Don’t forget the feather bed. It seems to me I heard someone say he wasn’t a kid anymore and couldn’t be expected to sleep on the ground. I think he even brought his pillow.”
“You must have been talking to Joe again,” he tossed back, flashing his dimples at her. “You know how he is, sweetheart. He’s getting old—”
Stepping out of the barn at that moment, Joe warned teasingly, “Watch who you’re calling old, little brother. You’re the one who needed help getting off your horse the last time we went riding. If I remember correctly, you weren’t moving too good for about a week after that. Elizabeth said you went through a whole tube of Ben-Gay in one day.”
“I own stock in the company,” he retorted. “I do what I can to help my fellow shareholders.”
Rolling his eyes, Joe snorted. “Yeah, right.” Turning to Phoebe and Taylor, he grinned. “Angel and the kids went to visit her dad for a few days, so I thought I’d go check out the wolves with the four of you…just in case you need my help getting Zeke off his horse.”
Phoebe grinned. “This might be the time for me to admit that it’s been a while since I’ve been riding. I may be the one you have to help off a horse.”
Far from worried, Joe chuckled. “You’ve been getting on and off horses by yourself since Janey and I taught you to ride when you were five years old. The day you can’t do that, it’s time for all of us to get rocking chairs.”
“Actually, you might want to get a ladder, instead,” Taylor said ruefully. “I’ve never been on a horse in my life.”
“Then it’s about time you were,” Joe replied, undaunted. “C’mon, let’s get you saddled up. I’ve got a chestnut in the barn that’s just perfect for you.”
The chestnut looked as big as a house, but with Joe’s assistance and instruction, Taylor soon found himself observing his surroundings from the back of a horse. It was, he had to admit, a different perspective. He hadn’t lied when he’d said he’d never ridden, and though he wouldn’t have said he was nervous, he would have been a fool not to have been at least cautious.
He needn’t have worried. The minute Joe had him walk his mount around the corral, he felt as comfortable as if he’d been riding all his life.
&n
bsp; Pleased, Joe said, “Not bad for a city slicker. I’d say you’re a natural.”
Without knowing it, Joe had struck a nerve. If he was a natural, then it had to be in the genes, Taylor thought grimly. Anger, old and familiar, tightened like a fist in his gut, but it wasn’t his brothers and sisters he was angry with. It was Gus. He was the one who’d been irresponsible, the one who had left a woman pregnant when he returned to the one he claimed to really love. And he’d never looked back, never, apparently, thought there was any need to.
“You’re going to be a sore natural by the end of the day,” Zeke warned with a grin. “But then, again, you won’t be the only one. Let’s go.”
With their gear loaded onto the pack horse, the five of them fell into line and soon left the homestead behind. To the west, the mountains beckoned. Taking the lead, Zeke set an easy pace and headed through the trees toward the first ridge.
When Zeke had invited him to join them on their trip to the back country, Taylor had seen it as a chance to learn more about his family. He hadn’t stopped to consider that he would also have an opportunity to explore the ranch where his father—and ancestors—had lived and died.
He’d known the ranch was big, of course—he’d already checked out the deed at the country courthouse—but it was impossible to visualize its vastness until he was actually in the middle of it. Almost in the time it took to blink, civilization was left behind. He knew the homestead was less than ten miles away, but as they climbed higher into the mountains, it seemed as if there wasn’t another living soul for a thousand miles or more. And just that easily, he knew how the first McBrides must have felt when they moved to Colorado after the Civil War.