He laid the photo facedown. She’d been gone from the world for two years. Contemplating where he was in the process of letting her go was futile.
“I can’t sleep in here,” Kinsey said.
He turned to find her staring around the room. “Because of me?” he asked.
“No, because of...Ann, I guess.”
“Yeah. I feel the same way. There’s one more door farther down the hall. Let’s see if it’s a guest bedroom.”
The door opened onto a room very similar to the master room. It, too, had an attached bath. It was slightly smaller, nicely decorated and a little more intimate. “Will this do?” Zane asked Kinsey.
“It’s perfect.”
He withdrew Pike’s gun from the back waistband of his jeans and set it on the shelf next to the bed, where it would be handy in case it was needed. Kinsey took the first shower and then it was his turn to stand under the hot, cleansing water. They climbed into the king-size bed at the same time. Within seconds, they’d rolled to the middle and embraced.
He’d steeled himself against succumbing to his feelings for her. The day had been so raw for both of them. But the fact was, he couldn’t control his body or his imagination, either. He’d wanted to be with her since the night they’d met and now he knew he was free. But did she know that, too?
“Have you ever been in love, Kinsey?” he whispered.
“I thought I was once.”
“With Ryan, that guy you told me about?”
“No, not him. It was back when I was twelve. The boy was thirteen. He didn’t even know I existed. I thought he was very mysterious.”
“Maybe I should try ignoring you,” he said, kissing her ear. His fingers ran over the pearly satin of her shoulder.
She drew her head back to look at him, although he could barely even see the whites of her eyes. “I don’t think you need to worry about attracting my attention,” she said. “And you’re plenty mysterious enough, as it is.”
He kissed her again, this time on the lips. He didn’t expect her to respond, but to his surprise she returned the kiss with the softest lips on earth. And when she parted them for his tongue, his whole body jumped to attention.
“Slow down,” she whispered against his neck.
Was she telling him to back off? If so, something had to give. “This isn’t going to work,” he said softly as his hand slid over the tantalizing rise and fall of her waist. “I can’t lie in the same bed with you and keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t want you to keep them to yourself,” she said, and as she spoke, she positioned her body closer to his, fitting her hips against his. She picked up one of his hands and moved it to her breast. “I just want you to slow down.” Her warm breath against his skin drove him crazy.
Her hand slipped down and brushed against an erection he was powerless to contain. There was a layer of cotton between his flesh and her hand, but he was pretty sure he was about to spontaneously combust.
He brought his mouth down on hers again as he massaged her breast, delighting in the way her nipples grew hard. He tentatively lifted the strap holding up her orange gown and she moaned deep in her throat. With her help, he slipped the gown from her supple body and wished he’d left the lights on so he could see her.
But it was enough for now to just feel her. She slipped her hands under his boxers and pulled on them. Soon he was naked, too, and any thought of slowing down was obsolete and naive.
Deep, long, intense kisses led to exploration. Her curves felt mesmerizing under his fingers, and when he touched her intimately, she shuddered. Groans escaped his own lips and her fingers ran over the steel rod of his erection. The sound seemed to add fuel to an already enraged fire. Pressing kisses down her neck, he cupped the dense soft weight of her breasts. Before he could lower his mouth to suck on her nipples, she’d clasped his rear and slid a leg under him. He mounted her quickly, delirious now with sensations. Plunging himself inside her seemed to be the most natural thing in the world, and the way she raised her hips to accept him drove another nail in his ability to delay the inevitable.
Obviously, he’d made love before. He had no specific memories of doing so, but he had been a father. At that moment it was impossible to believe there had ever been anyone else, and as they moved together, all tangible thoughts ceased.
Their release came swiftly, thoroughly, both of them crying out in ecstasy before crumbling together.
After a few minutes, he switched on a small bedside lamp, anxious to see her face, hoping he would detect no regret. He found her staring up at him from the tumble of blankets at his side, her hair messed, her eyes dark and soft.
If what he felt throbbing in his heart and running through his veins wasn’t love, what was? He reached for her and she came.
Chapter Ten
Kinsey woke up the next morning to find herself naked and alone in the bed. She’d slept in, but instead of jumping up, she lay there a few minutes basking in memories of the long night until she sighed deeply, sat up and looked around the room.
The vaulted ceiling rose high over her head while sunlight poured through the windows she’d opened during the night. The room was decorated with dashes of red, the curtains fluttered in the breeze. She thought back to the master room they’d abandoned, to the pile of male clothes tossed in a chair and the half-full glass of water on the nightstand that to her signaled Zane had left the ranch in a hurry the last time he’d slept in this house.
So, what had happened at the wedding or right after it that made Zane leave abruptly? Or had he been planning to go and stayed just long enough to see his father take wife number seven?
She spied her art tote on the bench at the foot of the bed. Yesterday had been the first day in years that she hadn’t sketched or painted anyone. She’d thought about it when she glimpsed the pain hiding behind Lily’s smile. She’d also thought about it when she entered the library and saw Zane’s brothers. They were unique and yet cut from the same cloth. She couldn’t wait to find out what Frankie, the one who had been absent, was like.
But she’d also thought about painting when she looked at the mountains, the fields, the horses. The ghost town begged to have its secrets revealed, though its worst secret of all, the deaths of Zane’s family, made that impossible for her to even contemplate. For the first time in her life she ached to paint more than faces.
If she and Zane managed to get over the obstacles fate kept throwing their way, and if they managed to live through the assaults until the perpetrator was found, could she settle here?
This place was so different from New Orleans. Quieter, lonelier, the air dry instead of moist. The sky seemed three times as big, and the river, instead of being wide and lazy and muddy, was narrow and ambitious and cool. There would be snow in the winter and turning leaves in the fall. Spring would bring mountainsides of wildflowers, and everywhere you looked, at least on Hastings land, you would find cattle and horses. She’d even seen deer grazing in a meadow on the ride home from the ghost town, then again last night from the car. She’d glimpsed hawks soaring up in the sky and rabbits scurrying through the underbrush.
But the differences ran deeper and it wasn’t just the scenery or the weather. Zane had grown up in that beautiful old house with four brothers and an endless stream of stepmothers. She had grown up in a series of cheap housing with one ever-present mother and no men. She’d always had something to eat and warm clothes, but she hadn’t had acres of land to roam, dozens of animals to care for, a lifestyle set in motion since before she was born. She had never belonged to a piece of land, but Zane had and still did. This was a family ranch and that meant the family worked it.
After a shower, she dressed quickly, borrowing some of the cream she found on the vanity to soothe her sunburned face. Riding around yesterday afternoon out in the full sun without protection hadn’t been the best idea she’d ever had. Then she went in search of Zane. She found him seated behind the desk in the room set up as an office. He look
ed up as she paused at the doorway and smiled at her.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said as he got to his feet and approached her. The lazy, sexy look in his eyes, coupled with his loose-jointed gait, made her heart thump around. He paused right in front of her and lifted her chin. “You have a rosy glow this morning.”
“I have a sunburn,” she said, but she was thinking that she would never get tired of the way his eyes devoured her. Did feelings like that last? Zane’s father had just taken his seventh wife. Did being raised in that kind of atmosphere encourage the concept to be content with one woman?
Why was she even thinking like this?
He lowered his head and touched her lips with his. All the emotions and sensations of the night before came flooding back, begging her to believe in fairy tales and forever. She allowed her head to dip slightly so she could brush her cheek against his knuckles.
“You look great,” she told him. “I like the clothes.”
He glanced down at his white shirt and the suede vest he wore over it. He hadn’t shaved and the slight stubble glistening on his face beguiled her. “I found a walk-in closet full of my stuff,” he said. “I seem to have a thing for vests.”
She smiled as she recalled the first time she’d seen him. He’d been wearing a pliant leather vest and she’d admired the way it made his shoulders and chest look supremely powerful. And last night, aroused and commanding, the true depth of his strength had flooded her senses.
“I want to talk to you,” he said. “Come sit down.” He led her to the chair at right angles to the desk, whisked a yellow baseball cap decorated with an embroidered orange dog off the seat before sitting down in front of the computer.
“Have you remembered something?” she asked.
“No. But it’s weird looking at the plaques on the wall, reading emails from people who are strangers, finding things like a baseball cap abandoned on a chair that I must have left there but have no memory of doing. It got a little overwhelming, so I called Sheriff Crown back in Louisiana. At least I remember what he looks and sounds like.”
She shifted her weight forward. “Did the kids confess to throwing the toolbox off the bridge?” she asked.
“Nope. In fact, they have an iron-tight alibi.”
“Did he question anyone else?”
“Yes, but got nowhere. He’s convinced a local is involved but admits it’s strange no one seems to know anything about it. He says ‘pranks’ like that usually get somebody talking, but so far, nothing.”
She drummed her fingernails. “So the attack might still have been aimed at you.”
“For all the good that supposition is doing us. Oh, and I also called Detective Woods.”
“Did he mention if anyone fitting Ryan’s description turned up the victim of a crime?”
Zane settled his hand on hers. “I asked. There’s been no one. Hopefully, your friend is safe.”
“Don’t forget he might be your friend, too.”
“I’m not forgetting,” he said. “Anyway, I gave Woods my real name. He’s going to search hotel records and see if he can find some trace of me. He has the make of my truck, the license plate and VIN numbers, so he’ll check out the police impound yards, too, and call your phone if they find it. I have to admit that makes me nervous, though.”
“Why?”
“Who knows what incriminating evidence might be lurking in my truck. I’d like to think I’m an innocent victim in all this, but I can’t know that for sure until it’s proven or I regain my memory. I just want to be there when the door is opened for the first time.”
She sat forward. “Does that mean you’re going back to New Orleans?”
“Eventually. How about you?”
“Pretty soon,” she said. No matter what the future held, she couldn’t just walk out of her apartment or family responsibilities. Besides, she needed some space and he did, too, whether he admitted it or not. Her place was at her own home while he needed to reestablish his identity here. This was all happening too fast.
A giant pit in her stomach warned her that parting with him was going to be pure unadulterated misery, worse now that they were lovers. By the time another few nights passed, how would she ever be brave enough to give him the space he needed?
“By the way, I found a notebook with my passwords in it, so I took a look at my bank records. I also found files in one of the drawers and scanned those. The upshot is that this is either a very profitable ranch or I am one hell of a financier. I can pay you back everything I owe you and help you replace your car.”
“Don’t worry about that right now...”
“Please, for the sake of my pride, just accept what I’m offering. This issue has been bugging me since the beginning. I have a nice fat checking account and a book of checks and I intend to repay you. Meanwhile, I own the SUV down in the carport, so let’s pay the extra fee and turn in the rental to the local branch today or tomorrow. I’ll buy you a plane ticket whenever you want to go home. Just let me know.”
“Thanks,” she said. Money, or rather, the lack of it, had been preying on her mind. It was a relief to know Zane could help. In a perfect world, she could gallantly refuse his offer and chalk generosity up to improving her karma; in the real world, she could not.
Her phone rang, which jarred them both. She got to her feet as she glanced at the screen. “My mother,” she informed Zane. “I’d better take it.”
He picked up the yellow baseball cap and pulled it over her hair. “I don’t want you burned to a crisp today,” he whispered. “I have plans for you tonight.” He followed this with a kiss before pulling down on the brim. “I want to go back to the ghost town. Will you go with me?”
“Of course.”
He smiled. “Talk to your mom. I’ll go find the kitchen and rustle us up something to eat.”
She punched on the phone as Zane left the room. It was amazing how empty a space could seem once he’d vacated it.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, steeling herself for more ultimatums.
“Are you still in Idaho?”
“Yes. I’ll be flying home soon, maybe as early as the weekend.”
“What happened to your car?”
“A small accident. How are things with you?”
“Bill isn’t doing well. He refuses to go back to the hospital or even allow me to call his doctor.”
“Oh, man,” Kinsey said. “He sure went downhill fast, didn’t he? Can Mr. Fenwick convince him to let you get help?”
“James says Bill actually has a right to conduct his death on his own terms. He has a point. It’s just so scary.”
“How about his nephew?”
“He disappeared again yesterday, but it’s too much to hope it’s for long.”
“That’s a lot for you to handle. How are you dealing?”
“James is a rock, thank goodness, since you’re still off with that cowboy. You are, aren’t you?”
“Yes. He rediscovered his identity but not his memory. Do you have a pencil handy? I want to give you the home number of my friend.” She rattled off the number on the desk phone. “Cell reception is iffy here. Call me and leave a message if something happens, okay?”
“Okay.”
They soon hung up. The conversation had been subdued, but it hadn’t been antagonistic, for which Kinsey was grateful. A growling stomach reminded her she’d missed the last couple of meals. Time to find Zane and discover if he could cook.
*
“YOUR FATHER WILL be home after lunch sometime,” Lily told Zane. She was up to her neck in green beans and canning equipment. Already processed quart jars lined a towel-draped table, while a big pressure cooker released steam as a timer ticked nearby. A dozen sterilized bottles, one with a wide-mouthed funnel resting atop, awaited the pile of beans Lily chopped into two-inch pieces for the next batch.
“Do you know where my brothers are?” Zane asked her.
“Over getting the pens ready for the roundup on Friday. They said you shou
ld join them if you had the chance.”
“You’ll have to tell me how to get there,” he said. She did and told him to take truck keys out of the mudroom. Zane asked Kinsey if she wanted to come with him and hesitated when she declined. “Go have some time with them,” she said. “Maybe it will help you remember something.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone,” he said as he squeezed her hand.
She gestured at Lily. “I’m hardly alone. Listen, I promise I’ll stay right here at this ranch until you get back, okay?”
“I won’t be long.” He kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand.
“You two are close,” Lily said after the door closed behind him.
Kinsey smiled. “You can tell?”
“He’s letting you wear his lucky hat.”
Kinsey had all but forgotten the yellow cap still perched on her head. “I don’t think he remembers it’s special.”
“I know, but it is. He played Bulldog Football during high school. Anyway, I’m happy for both of you. He’s a good man.”
“I know,” Kinsey said.
“It will be wonderful for him to have children again.”
“I know he wants them very much,” Kinsey said. “It seems to be a part of who he is.”
“Is it part of who you are?” Lily asked with a swift glance.
“A family has never been a priority,” Kinsey admitted. “Until now. Last night...well, yes, I think I’m finally beginning to understand the whole circle-of-life thing. Zane is teaching me. I mean Gerard.”
“I don’t mind what you call him,” Lily said with a smile.
Kinsey had surprised herself with her answer and for a moment felt a stir of panic. What if she built her dreams of a shared life with this man at this ranch and it never came to be? How would she go on?
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