by Ginna Gray
She looked at him sadly, her heart aching. "I'd like to, J.T. but I…I just can't. I'm sorry."
"Kate, please—"
"J.T., don't you see? I can't be completely sure of your motives for anything. Even these past two days. As much as I appreciate what you did, I can't quite believe it was merely an act of love on your part. After all, you stand to benefit, too."
He scowled. "How do you figure that?"
"Now you have an ending for your book, don't you? A part of me will always wonder if that was the real reason you helped us."
"How can you even think that?"
She gazed at him solemnly, her head tipped to one side. "Tell me something. Are you going to write the newspaper article that your boss wanted?"
J.T. grimaced and shifted uneasily. "Look, sweetheart, what difference does that make? The whole thing is going to hit the papers, anyway. By tomorrow there'll be reporters swarming all over this town."
"And, thanks to our little jaunt, you have the jump on them."
"Dammit, that's not why I helped you!" Sighing, he ground his teeth and raked his hand through his hair.
"So you say. But I'll never know that for sure, will I?" She waited a beat, then added, "I assume you'll finish the book, now, too."
He hesitated. Then he seemed to stand a little taller as he lifted his chin at a determined angle. "Yes."
Until that moment Kate had not realized how much she'd wanted to be wrong, that in her heart she had been hoping, praying that he would somehow be able to convince her that she had misjudged him, that regardless of how it seemed, he had not and would not betray her. Ever.
But with that single word, the last kernel of hope shriveled and died inside her.
Kate swallowed hard and fought to hold back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. She had already cried a river over J.T. She would not shed any more.
Somehow she managed a wobbly smile. "I see. Then there's nothing left to say, is there?" Turning away, she slowly climbed the stairs, her back ramrod straight, her head high. Neither man watching from the foot of the stairs would ever know how much that dignified exit cost her.
"Like I told you before," Zach said when Kate disappeared into the upstairs hall. "I want you out of here tomorrow."
J.T. met his brother's hard stare with equal determination. "Too bad. Unless you're prepared to throw me out bodily, which I wouldn't advise you try, you're just plumb out of luck, Bro. My rent is paid through April, and I'm staying."
* * *
Kate slept twelve hours straight, only to discover that J.T.'s prediction had come true. She awoke around ten to a horrendous pounding on her front door, the telephone ringing off the wall and a small army of reporters on her doorstep.
Zach wanted to run the clamoring horde off with a shotgun, but Kate had learned four years ago that the quickest way to get rid of them was to give them what they wanted. Bracing herself for the ordeal, she stepped out onto the front porch and gave them a brief account of the facts and answered questions for as long as she could stand to do so.
As soon as she went back inside and shut the door, the reporters scattered like a covey of quail, and moments later a string of vehicles raced down the mountainside. Throughout the remainder of the day there were a few stray calls, and once a reporter rang their doorbell, but for the most part the siege was over.
Kate had expected J.T. to rush into town and fax in his story, as well, but according to Zach, who was a habitual early riser, he hadn't left the house. Then she realized that J.T. had probably phoned in his exclusive last night, hours before the other reporters had arrived in Gold Fever.
He stayed holed up in his room all that day and the next. Except for dirty dishes in the sink each morning, there was no sign of him until the third afternoon following their return.
Though Zach was missing some important rodeos, he stubbornly refused to leave her alone in the house with J.T. They were sitting in the parlor before the fire, enjoying a cup of coffee when J.T. walked in.
He looked awful; his face was shadowed with a three-day growth of beard; his clothes were rumpled; and dark smudges formed half circles under his eyes. Kate would have been surprised to learn that he'd slept more than a few hours since their return.
Regardless of his appearance, her heart gave a little kick at the sight of him. He'd hurt her terribly, and she didn't trust him, but, God help her, she couldn't seem to stop loving him.
That didn't mean, however, that she had to let him see how vulnerable she was where he was concerned. With what she considered admirable poise, she looked at him and raised one eyebrow. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"If you're looking for lunch or breakfast you're too late," Zach growled.
"I don't want anything to eat. But there is something you can do for me. I'd appreciate it if you'd both read this."
"What is it?" Zach demanded, scowling at the three-inch stack of paper J.T. plopped onto the end table beside his chair.
"The manuscript for my book," he replied, handing another one to Kate. "I finished it, and I'd like you both to read it."
Looking at the stack of papers she was holding as though it were a snake, Kate pressed back deeper into the sofa. "I'd rather not. Really."
"Me, neither." Though Zach was a voracious reader who consumed three to four books a week, he acted as though J.T. was trying to saddle him with an onerous chore.
Ignoring Zach, J.T.'s gaze bored into Kate. "Please, sweetheart. This is important. Read it, and when you're done, if you still want me to leave, I will."
"I…" She looked from his pleading face to Zach.
He shrugged and picked up the manuscript. "Okay, sure. If it'll get rid of him, I'll read it."
Chewing on her bottom lip, Kate glanced uncertainly at the stack of paper in her lap, then back at J.T. "All right. I'll read it, too."
By the middle of the first page, Kate was hooked. By the end of the first chapter she had almost forgotten why she'd objected to the book in the first place.
J.T. had an engaging writing style that flowed as smooth as silk and a gift for imagery and creating believable, well-rounded characters and taut situations. From the first line the tension and intrigue built steadily.
Apparently, Zach was just as captivated by the book as Kate. For the next three hours they did not exchange a word. The only sounds in the room were the crackle and pop of the fire, an occasional clink of a china cup against a saucer and the rustle of pages being turned over.
In the beginning Bob Sweet appeared to be charismatic, kindly and devout, a true shepherd of his flock. As the, story progressed, however, J.T. gradually and chillingly exposed the preacher as ego driven and power hungry, a manipulative, greedy hypocrite, and an abusive husband and stepfather. Most frightening of all, however, was the hypnotic, Svengali-like power he wielded over his congregation.
A master at mind control, from the pulpit, Reverend Sweet brainwashed the unsuspecting people of Gold Fever with his impassioned and mesmerizing sermons.
When he hatched a plan to reopen the mine and restore jobs and pride to the locals, he became almost a God to them.
J.T. portrayed Kate and Zach as innocent victims who endured years of shame and persecution at the hands of their former friends and neighbors and the news media. In the last quarter of the book, when they were vindicated, events were presented in a way that rendered a blistering indictment against the townspeople, who had wronged them for years.
While Kate and Zach read, J.T. roamed the wide central hallway outside the parlor. Occasionally he came into the room to add another log to the fire or refill their coffee cups or turn on lamps as dusk began to fall, but the little chores were merely excuses to check out their expressions or see what page they were on. His frequent reconnaissance forays became so annoying that Zach finally lost patience.
"Dammit! If you want me to finish this, stay the hell out!"
J.T. retreated to the guest parlor across the hall and stationed himself w
here he could see when they had finished.
Even though Kate had lived the story and knew how it would end, J.T. had made the events seem much more exciting and interesting than she remembered. She found herself so engrossed she could not have put the manuscript down for anything short of a catastrophic event.
When Kate finally turned over the last page, she felt dazed. The book was not at all what she had expected. Instead of a sensationalized account of the swindle, designed to pander to the insatiable and twisted curiosity of the masses, it was an insightful and chilling examination of mind control and the inherent dangers of cults and the "herd mentality."
Zach had finished reading, as well, and when Kate looked up he was watching her, his expression thoughtful.
"Not exactly what I expected," he murmured.
"No. No it isn't, is it?"
J.T. appeared in the doorway. He looked tense as his gaze darted back and forth between them. "Well? What do you think?"
She thought the book was excellent, but what she felt was torn. He had woven an intriguing tale of greed, power and hatred, and he had treated her and Zach fairly. If the story had been about anyone else she would have thought it fantastic. Absolutely wonderful.
But it wasn't about someone else. It was about her and Zach, and in it J.T. had laid bare for all the world to see the most hurtful and humiliating experience of her life. All she wanted to do was forget the whole sorry mess and put it behind her. Her pride balked at the thought of strangers all over the country reading about the ordeal.
There had been no way to escape the media coverage. For the past few days every major newspaper and telecast had rehashed the case. Embarrassing and intrusive as that had been, at least she had the comfort of knowing that, not only did those reports merely skim the surface with sketchy recitals of the facts, interest would soon fade as the newsmongers moved on to the next breaking story. It was different with a book, particularly one with the depth and potential of J.T.'s.
Kate glanced at Zach, but he gestured, silently deferring to her.
"First of all, I suppose I should thank you for setting the record straight."
"You don't have to thank me for telling the truth, Kate. What I want to know is what you think of the story."
"It's quite good. I won't be surprised if it turns out to be a bestseller. I'm sure your editor will be pleased."
J.T. heard the bitter coolness in her voice, and the knot in his stomach pulled a little tighter. Quite good? Hell, he knew the story was an excellent piece of work, probably the best thing he'd ever written. So good, in fact, he figured odds were high that his ole buddy at Hubbard and Rhodes would probably jump at the chance to publish it, particularly given his own involvement in the case. If that happened it would be the fulfillment of his lifelong dream.
Yet, that no longer seemed to matter. Erasing the hurt and anguish in Kate's eyes had become much more important.
"I doubt that. I didn't turn in that article to the paper. I didn't even write one. Matter of fact, I quit my job."
"You quit?" He saw the surprise flash in her eyes, but she controlled it quickly and assumed a neutral expression.
"Yeah. Charlie's probably cursing me to hell and gone right now. Instead of the exclusive he expected, the Herald was about the only major paper in the country that didn't have an on-the-scene report of the story."
"Well, I wouldn't worry. I'm sure the book will be a big success."
"Maybe it would be … if I were going to sell it."
"Wh-what? What are you saying?"
He had her attention now. She stared at him as though he'd lost his mind. Zach silently watched them, his eyes sliding back and forth between his sister and J.T.
"I'm saying I'm not going to submit the manuscript to a publisher."
"I don't understand. The book is sure to sell. It's what you've been working for. Why are you doing this?"
"I've been doing some soul searching and, well, I realized you were right. I love you, Kate. More than I've ever loved anyone or anything. But even if I could convince you of that, I know if I sell this book you'll always wonder if that was true in the beginning, or if I had just been using you to get the story.
"Even if you decide not to give me a second chance, I don't ever want you to doubt my love for you, Kate. That's why I won't be submitting the book."
"You'd do that for me?" she asked, with a look of wonder in her eyes that gave him hope.
"That and more. I've erased the manuscript from my computer's hard drive and destroyed the backup diskettes." He bent and scooped up the pile of manuscript papers from her lap. "Once I burn these two copies it will no longer exist."
"Burn them? But— J.T., what're you doing!" She shot out of the chair as he tossed the pages into the fire. "Stop that! Are you mad?"
Grabbing a poker, Kate worked frantically to rake the papers out of the fire, but she was too late. The greedy flames curled the pages into black ashes before she could rescue so much as a single one.
"Oh, look what you've done!" she wailed. "How could you?"
"I have no choice. You're more important to me than any book." He reached for the stack of papers that Zach had piled on the end table beside his chair, but Kate darted in front of him and blocked his way.
"Don't you dare touch those!"
"Kate, don't you understand? It's just words on paper. I can write other books, but there is only one you."
She shook her head. "I don't care. I can't let you destroy that book. It's too good. Tell him, Zach!"
"I have to agree with Kate. I hated the idea of you writing the story as much as she did, but I have to admit, this is one helluva tale. Besides, haven't you heard? It's a crime to burn books."
J.T. rolled his eyes. "I don't believe this. Kate, will you be reasonable. You don't want that book published, so what's the point in keeping it?"
"Why did you bother to finish it if you weren't going to submit it?"
"Kate—"
"Tell me why, J.T."
He sighed. "I finished it because I wanted to prove to you, and to Zach, that I would never intentionally write anything that would hurt or embarrass either of you. That, and…"
"And?" she prompted when he hesitated.
"It was just something I had to do," he admitted reluctantly. "But I've got all that out of my system now, so there's no reason to keep it around. I don't understand why you're making such a fuss about me burning it."
"Oh, J.T." Smiling tenderly, Kate stepped close and placed her palms flat against his chest. The soft look in her eyes as she gazed up at him made him catch his breath. Cupping his cheek, she looked deep into his eyes and murmured, "I won't let you destroy the book for the same reason you want to burn it. Because I love you."
"Kate." His throat closed up on him, and he froze, watching her, not daring to hope.
"Don't you understand, my love," she continued softly. "The book is important to you. It's part of you. You poured your heart and soul into it. I love you too much to let you destroy it."
"You love me?" he asked softly, zeroing in on the only thing that mattered.
"I never stopped."
"Ah, Katy," he whispered as he pulled her tight against him. "Sweet, stubborn Katy, mine, I love you, too. I always will."
His mouth swooped down on hers, and with a moan she twined her arms around his neck.
Neither of them noticed when Zach left the room, or that he took the manuscript with him. They were too lost in each other.
They held each other tight, their bodies straining to get closer. The knowledge of how close they had come to losing each other trembled through them, adding a sharp poignancy to their embrace.
The voracious kiss was hot and wet and open-mouthed. Both desperately sought to assuage the misery and hurt they had endured and make up for the long, miserable weeks of their estrangement.
When at last the kiss ended, they still clung to each other: Kate with her eyes closed, her cheek resting against his chest, her arms
wrapped around his lean middle; J.T. holding her tight against him, head bent and his cheek snuggled against her temple.
They stayed that way for an interminable time, content and silent, swaying ever so slightly together, basking in the profound sense of relief and the flood of feelings too intense for words.
"Does this mean you'll marry me?" J.T. finally asked, and he felt her smile against his chest.
"Mmm, just try and stop me."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he said with a chuckle as happiness poured through him.
She laughed, too, squeezing him tight, but after a moment she eased her hold and leaned back in his arms to look into his eyes. Her smile wobbled a bit, and he saw her throat work as she swallowed hard, but her gaze didn't waver. "In a few years—after I've gained some distance and the memories aren't so sharp—we'll send your book to your publisher friend."
J.T. felt his heart turn over. Though her expression had that determined look he had come to recognize, he saw apprehension, as well, and he knew then the depth of her love for him, and he was humbled.
Shaken, he stared into those vulnerable gray eyes and knew he was the luckiest man alive. Tightening his arms around her, he brought her closer, and his head began a slow decent. "Ah, Katy, mine, you're a dream come true," he whispered an instant before his mouth settled over hers once again.
* * * * *