Perfect Family

by Potter, Patricia;

  But now she’d allowed some of what he’d said to sink in. She had a million more questions. “Do you know why my father disappeared?”

  Any hint of amusement left his eyes. “Not firsthand.”

  “But you’ve heard rumors,” she said. “Suppositions?”

  He was silent. His fingers thrummed again on the table. “Those are not for me to repeat,” he said finally.

  “I need a friend,” she said. “I hoped I’d found one in you.”

  “Don’t,” he said. “I have as much to gain or lose as anyone in all this. You should know that.”

  “Why?”

  “If the ranch is sold, I lose my job.”

  Jessie filed that away, too. “Why would they sell it?”

  He laughed, but this time there was nothing warm and fuzzy about it. “Money. What else?”

  “Don’t make me fish this out, piece by piece,” Jessie pleaded.

  “The ranch is barely staying afloat,” he said reluctantly. “An offer has been made for the land. Some moneymen want to create ‘a planned development,’ as they call it. The offer is very high.”

  “And Sarah is blocking it.”

  “For the moment,” he said, his obsidian eyes watching carefully.

  A chill ran down Jessie’s back. He did have a reason to take her out tonight. He was telling her himself, before she found out from others. For a few silly moments, she’d actually thought …

  She was suddenly glad she hadn’t told him about the intruder. Or intruders. The one at the Quest. The one at home. The one at the bookstore. An ominous pattern was developing, and she had no idea whom to trust. But why would anyone be snooping into her life if all they wanted was her vote? They already knew everything there was to know about her. Probably more than she did, herself.

  She also found it was useless to ask him more questions about her father. He wasn’t going to answer. She was not going to be a supplicant. She would get the answers for herself.

  The happiness Jessie had felt at being with Ross drained away. Sure, he had told her more than anyone else had, but not enough. He was hiding as much as the rest of the family was. She had believed the Clementses the perfect family, the family she’d dreamed of for so long. All her life. And now she didn’t know who or what to believe.

  The perfect family, indeed.

  The food came. She knew it was probably very good. Yet it tasted like cardboard. Their conversation slowed, halted. The magic seeped away like sand through fingers.

  He was still devilishly attractive. Her heart beat faster when she looked at him. She nearly melted under his gaze. But she couldn’t trust him. And she would never let herself be used. Not ever again.

  “Jessica?”

  “There’s more, isn’t there? There’s more to all this than you’re telling me.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Dammit,” she said. “I want to know.”

  “Jessica, I shouldn’t have told you what I did. The family agreed that Alex would explain everything after the DNA results came back.”

  “Then why are you telling me now?”

  “I didn’t agree. I thought you had a right to know.”

  She was angry. And hurt. She felt like a puppet being manipulated by any number of puppeteers.

  “You’re not going to tell me more, are you?”

  “I can’t tell you, because I don’t know.”

  “I’m sorry I asked.” She heard the stiffness in her voice, the chill.

  “Don’t be.” But his voice had cooled, too. The distance between them was growing greater by the minute.

  They finished in silence, she leaving much of the food. He looked askance at her.

  “It’s good,” she said. “I’m just … not hungry.”

  He nodded. He pulled out a twenty and a ten without receiving a bill, put them on the table, then stood. She wonder if this was his usual practice, but she had little time to consider it. His arm again guided her to the door. He stopped to say good-bye to Ramon, and then they were outside in the warm air.

  His touch was just as firm, just as confident. Just as warm. Just as enticing. She wanted it so badly. She wanted to trust it.

  She couldn’t.

  He opened the truck door for her, and she stepped inside. She watched as he walked around, got in on his own side, and started the engine. He didn’t say anything else until they reached the resort.

  “Where to?” he asked when they got to the entrance.

  She felt a momentary relief that he hadn’t automatically driven to her casita. Or was he just too intelligent for that?

  She gave him directions, then opened the door of the pickup as he stopped. But if she thought to outrun him, she didn’t. He was at her side, taking the key from her hand and opening the door to the casita.

  He stood to one side, but his hand caught her as she started to walk in. “Jessie, you’re right not to trust anyone, but …”

  Then she was in his arms, and he was looking down at her. His eyes weren’t enigmatic now. They were intense and sexy as hell. She saw that much before his lips touched hers. Searching at first, then with a beguiling laziness that sent waves of desire radiating through her. His fingers touched her cheeks with a softness and gentleness that were more persuasive than any more determined seduction. Her blood warmed, her senses danced.

  He swept her closer, and her body pressed against his. She could hear the beat of his heart, feel the hard, muscled strength of him. Her breath caught in her throat, and she opened her mouth. His tongue entered. Exploring. Seducing. An ache started deep inside, a deep, intense yearning for something more.

  Could she trust this?

  She’d closed her eyes, but now she opened them and looked up. His eyes were partially curtained by those thick lashes, as difficult to read as ever. He was a man who’d learned to control his feelings. Her hand went up and touched the back of his neck, the thick dark hair curling slightly around her fingers. The intimacy was so strong she thought she would drown in it.

  His kiss deepened and she responded in a way she’d never done before. Emotions surged through her as did acute physical reactions. The enchantment she’d felt earlier wrapped around her.

  The warm breeze quickened and brushed their bodies. She was only slightly aware of that new sensation. It was an added aphrodisiac when none was needed. All she needed at the moment was Ross Macleod.

  Even if she didn’t trust him. Or his motives.

  That didn’t matter at the moment. Her cautions, her good sense, were swept away by his nearness, by the intoxication of his touch, the promise of his fingers, the sweet seduction of his lips. She found herself melting into him, her mouth responding to his, her body wantonly clinging to him. She felt his body change, grow hard and wanting. Expectation built furiously inside her.

  His hands moved from her face to her hair, then to the back of her neck, playing with nerve ends she didn’t know existed as his kiss deepened, became harder, more demanding, more searching. She could barely breathe under the onslaught. Her body felt like a willow, bending to him, depriving her of all will of her own.

  She felt she was drowning in him, in the intensity that was so much a part of him. Piercing need ripped through her. Not just physical need, but something far stronger, far needier. She had been alone so long.

  But even as she felt the painful need, a delicious warmth started to move through her. His mouth gentled suddenly, surprising her. His lips moved, brushing kisses against her cheek, and strangely, those kisses were far more sensuous, far more arousing than his lips had been against hers. Her entire body trembled and ached and tingled.

  Her hips arched toward his, and her breasts strained and hurt. She wanted to stretch against him, to feel the growing bulge under his jeans, to …

  Dear God, what was she doing? Thinking?

  He groaned, a growl deep in his throat. She thought she heard the beat of his heart, a loud thunder in her ears. The sound was erotic an
d irresistible. He was feeling it too, this need, this want that was more intense than she’d thought possible. The power of it astounded her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked up. His eyes were like dark flames. Hot. Brilliant.

  His lips captured hers again and moved lazily, sensually. Then he released them and stepped back. She felt him take a deep breath. “Good God, lady.”

  This time she didn’t question his sincerity. She knew he was fully aroused. So was she.

  A muscle flexed in his cheek, and his face looked drawn. His lips were tight. One of his hands had clasped hers and held it tight. He looked down, apparently surprised, then let it go and touched her cheek again. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  Her entire body ached. Her brain felt fogged. Her body didn’t want to obey. She could only stare at him like a zombie, wondering what had happened. How it had started? And then ended so abruptly?

  But it hadn’t stopped. Her senses were burning, tingling. Her legs felt rubbery. She knew she had to go in before she made a total fool of herself.

  “Good night.” She forced the words out of her mouth.

  His fingers were still on her cheek, still burning a trail along her skin. Then he dropped his hand, moving away, moving toward the truck.

  The door was open. But she couldn’t move yet. She waited until the engine of his pickup started; then, like a sleepwalker, she took the steps inside. She closed the door and went to the window.

  The pickup was still there. A moment passed, then another. Finally, it moved. She watched as it disappeared into the darkness.

  eleven

  Ross almost didn’t leave. God knew he didn’t want to leave.

  But he saw the distrust—along with the passion—in her eyes. He knew he’d helped plant it there, but it hurt nonetheless. He wanted her, but he wanted her after she knew everything. Not now. Not when she was still swimming in confusion. Not when she was trying to find her way.

  She was vulnerable, and he was damned if he was going to use that.

  But he wanted to. Oh, how he’d wanted to ravish her then and there. He’d also wanted to kiss away the doubt in her eyes. The questions.

  He knew it was all wrong. And he’d broken away, though it took every ounce of his strength, his willpower. So he sat in the cab of his pickup, thinking about how much he wanted to knock on her door and go inside.

  Instead, he started the pickup and drove out of the resort parking lot. He hated the damned place. It was one of the causes of Cullen’s sudden desire to sell the Sunset. Cullen had poured everything he had into the Quest. If rumors were true, he was near bankruptcy. So he’d joined forces with Marc, who needed funds to seed his Senate campaign. Both men had talked their father into supporting the proposal. At ninety-one, the older Halden was no match for their joint campaign. He just wanted peace in his family.

  They had cajoled the others, children of Harry and Hugh and their offspring, into supporting their bid to sell the Sunset. Sarah was the only holdout.

  Jessie’s share would be more than a million dollars if she agreed to the sale. For a young woman who’d never had much, it would represent a fortune. Invested wisely, it would support her forever. Certainly, it would present opportunities she’d never had before.

  Damn. Of all the women in the world, she was the one he least wanted to become involved with. Their interests were divergent. If it were only himself, it wouldn’t matter so much. But Sarah did matter. The Sunset was her life.

  If only Marc would change his mind. If only Ross could persuade him in some way …

  Frustrated, he fought his way through tourist traffic. It was at its heaviest at this time of year. All Sedona needed was another development. More homes. More resorts. A golf course, for God’s sake. Who cared if it reduced the water table another inch or so. Who cared as long as more money was to be made?

  He was working himself up to a fine rage when he hit the road to the Sunset, driving far too fast. He caught himself. He did that crap as a kid. He slowed, trying to harness his anger before he got back. Sarah would probably come over to the house if he didn’t report to her first. She would want to know all the details.

  He cursed long and hard.

  Jessie’s car was in front of her casita when she woke. She didn’t know who had brought it or when, but she was grateful.

  Her wrist felt better, not as sore. It didn’t matter, anyway. She had things to do today. She looked for the keys. They were under the floor mat. Easy enough for someone to steal, but apparently no one was overly concerned about that in Sedona.

  She drove out and found a family-type restaurant where she ate breakfast. She was at the library when it opened its doors.

  Her first stop was the computer to see if there was any book available about the Clements family. Finding none, she next went to the newspaper on microfiche. It was a biweekly paper, more about community doings and personalities than hard news. She went to the year 1950. The Clements name was mentioned frequently. One had been a city board member; another had received a civic award. The Clementses had hosted a barbecue to raise money for the community hospital.

  Clementses, in fact, were everywhere. Then finally in June, she found what she sought: an obituary of war hero Sergeant Heath Clements. Note was made of his twin brother, Hugh, who’d died during the war.

  No cause of death was named. No details listed. Just a notice that he had died on a Monday and that the funeral was on Wednesday. The only survivors mentioned were his father, his mother, Sarah, and the remaining brothers. Harding was among them.

  She found nothing about Lori Clements, Harding’s wife.

  The article posed more questions then it answered. She’d noticed that there were few controversial items in the paper. Had the owner buried any questions about the death? Had he or she bowed to the wishes of the Clements family?

  She wondered whether the Flagstaff paper would have any more information. She obtained microfiche for that date, too, and looked. Same type of item, but smaller.

  Did the Clementses really have that kind of influence? Hell’s bells. She sighed in frustration.

  She finally gave up. She looked at her watch. Eleven. She had promised to have lunch with Sarah. Which meant she would probably see Ross. She closed her eyes. She didn’t know how she would face him. She’d practically invited him to bed last night. And he hadn’t wanted her. She flinched at the memory of his rejection.

  Well, she would be leaving Wednesday. Early. She would have to find out what she wanted to know before that.

  Tomorrow she would go to Flagstaff, the county seat, and see if she could find records of the deaths of Harding’s wife and brother. There must be a death certificate or record of an inquest.

  Harding. Her probable father. She still couldn’t quite believe it. She still couldn’t quite call him that. Her father was Jonathan Clayton. Horse trainer.

  And when Sarah asked her what she was doing today? The truth? Jessie wasn’t sure.

  She made a copy of the obituary of Heath Clements, tucked it into her pocketbook, and left. She walked quickly to the door, then across the parking lot. Her gaze moved around as it always did. She’d taken a self-protection course, and she always made a point of being aware of what was going on around her. She also always had her keys in her hand, grasped tightly in her fingers.

  Her gaze lingered only a second on a blue sedan with a young man sitting inside. He must be waiting for someone. She really didn’t think anyone was lurking outside the Sedona library with mayhem in mind.

  Still, she kept her eyes on the door of the car as she unlocked her rental and climbed inside. As she turned into the road, then took a right on 89A, she noted that the sedan pulled out, too. But then she lost sight of it as she slipped into the right lane. The sedan passed on the left.

  Her imagination. She was seeing ghosts where there were none. She was even beginning to wonder whether she’d overreacted about her room. Perhaps she hadn’t put the necklace where she thought. Pe
rhaps the whole situation had unnerved her more than she’d realized.

  Glancing occasionally out the rearview mirror, she drove to the ranch. She thought she saw the blue sedan once on the highway. When she turned onto the road to the ranch, she slowed, even stopped. She looked behind her. No blue car on the highway.

  Jessie breathed slowly, not realizing she’d been holding it. She felt her body slowly relax. Calling herself all sorts of a timid fool, she pressed her foot down on the gas pedal. The car jerked forward.

  She found herself further loosening the tight ball of nerves. The ranch house would probably be mostly empty by now. Marc and his wife hadn’t left, but she suspected he would be off campaigning somewhere. Ross would most likely be working. This would be her one chance to really talk to Sarah.

  When Jessie arrived at the ranch house, it looked a little forlorn without cars parked in all directions. There was only a rather serviceable-looking Jeep she’d seen before. She looked toward’s Ross’s house. His pickup was gone. A flash of disappointment ran through her. But there was relief, too. She still felt pangs of rejection.

  Before she reached the stone steps, the door opened and Sarah stood there, her weathered face wreathed in a smile. She was wearing Levi’s today, and a checked shirt. A blue scarf was knotted around her neck. Jessie could barely believe she was in her seventies, despite the wrinkles around her eyes. She moved with a lighter step than Jessie.

  “Jessie, I’m so pleased to see you. We’ll eat, then go for a ride. I promise not to lose you.” Then the smile faded. “If your wrist is all right, that is.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to a ride,” Jessie said.

  “Good. Lunch is ready. I hope you like salad and cold chicken.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Jessie said. And it was true. She’d been eating enough for a horse lately.

  “Come on into the kitchen,” Sarah said. “Everything’s ready. Would you like tea or a soda?”

  “Tea sounds good,” Jessie replied. Then she asked curiously, “There’s a Jeep out there.”

  “It’s Cullen’s. His wife’s car is at the garage and she’s using his so he’s using the Jeep. He came over to see his father about some business. I asked him to join us for lunch but he said he’s scheduled a late business lunch.”