by Lori Wilde
Sensing the prevailing mood, Cody fussed, fidgeted and sneezed at the smoke, his little head bobbing with the force.
Matt looked at Cody. Concern worried his brow. He threw open the window over the sink, fanned the smoke in that direction.
“Why don’t you just leave?” Savannah repeated.
“And leave you here unprotected? No, ma’am.”
“You call setting the house on fire protection?” she sniped.
He whirled around, eyebrows lowered in a battle stance. “Listen to me, Savannah Prentiss Markum. I’m here to do a job and I’m going to do it.”
“Oh, sure. Your plan worked real well, didn’t it?” She jiggled Cody in her arms, tried to soothe him, but he was not cooperating. “Nobody showed up last night, did they? In fact, explain to me again what this plan was supposed to achieve?”
“Once Larkins and Thompson think you’re in jail and the place is wide open, they’ll be back to rob you blind,” Matt said through clenched teeth.
“So where are they?” Savannah waved a hand.
“Maybe Clem hasn’t located them yet. Or maybe they’re not quite as stupid as they look and they’re proceeding with caution. Or maybe, most likely, they were too drunk last night to do anything.”
“So how many nights do I have to put up with you?” she demanded.
“As many as it takes.”
“Don’t you have any other cases to work on?”
“Yes.” He gritted his teeth. “I do. That’s why I wanted you and Cody to stay at my place until those two are apprehended.”
“I’m not leaving my home,” she reiterated.
“Then I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“How long is this going to take?”
Matt shrugged. “Days. Weeks.”
Savannah groaned. Days? Weeks? How could she spend so much time in Matt Forrester’s company and not do something stupid like allowing him to make love to her?
“Any other questions?”
“Who’s going to clean up this mess?” she asked, indicating the uneaten breakfast decorating the floor and countertop.
“Things did get a little out of hand,” Matt admitted ruefully. ‘Til help you clean up, since we were both to blame.”
“We can’t even be in the same room together for five minutes without fighting,” she observed, easing Cody down into the high chair, then marshaling a broom and dustpan from the pantry.
“We did pretty well last night.” He offered her a wry smile.
“Because I was asleep.”
“You know why we fight?” he asked.
“Why?” She frowned.
“We don’t have any other outlet for our passion.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped.
“Oh, yeah? Then why are you so testy?”
“I’m not testy.”
“What about that tense look on your face? I’d love to erase it for you.”
“Pig.”
The comers of his eyes crinkled. Much as she might want to deny it, what Matt said was true. If they expended their pent-up ardor making love, there’d be no need to make war.
“Savy?” He grasped a washrag in his hand, swiped viciously at the grease streaked across the counter.
Determined, she swept bacon and eggs and dust into a pile on the linoleum.
“Look at me,” he insisted.
Slowly, she raised her eyes, her breath coming in short, fast spurts.
“What?”
“Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to give it one more try? It’s like fate has given us a second chance.”
“Or played a cruel trick on us,” she volleyed.
“The physical passion still burns bright. Neither of us can deny that.”
“Man can not live by bread alone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It takes more than sex to make a relationship work.”
“Our passion was good, wasn’t it, Savy?”
Too good. Great, in fact. Sensational. Their excessive desires for each other had always frightened her. She believed something that ignited so hotly, so quickly and so intensely was doomed to cinders. It was one of the reasons they’d never actually consummated their affair. She hadn’t been brave enough to risk the inevitable heartache inherent in their physical joining. If they had made love, he would have possessed her soul until the end of time.
Matt tossed the rag into the sink, then trod heavily across the floor to get to her. He removed the broom and dustpan from her hand and propped the utensils against the wall.
She stared up at him, helpless.
“I can’t make any promises, Savannah. But I still want you more than any woman I’ve ever known.”
“More than Jackie Spencer?”
“There you go again, clouding the issue. You know full well Jackie was never more than a friend. You hide behind that excuse because you’re afraid of facing your real emotions for me.”
Was it true? If she overcame her feeling of inferiority and learned to trust Matt, could they actually try again? The thought held magnificent appeal, especially after having spent the night in his arms. But her doubts kept her prisoner. If she allowed herself to love him fully, with all her heart, he would hurt her again, probably by getting his fool self killed in the line of duty.
“Savannah,” he whispered.
She’d injured him, too, Savannah acknowledged, when she’d left him without explanation and married Gary Markum. She’d harbored a young girl’s silly fantasy, expecting him to show up at her wedding and spirit her away to happily-ever-after land. But Matt Forrester was a prideful man. If he thought she didn’t want him, he wouldn’t have forced himself on her. They’d made so many mistakes. Was it too late to undo the past?
Before she could protest or discourage him, he drew her to his chest. They gazed at each other, spellbound, both too terrified to hope.
He cupped her chin in his hand, wrapped his other arm around her waist. His touch was light, hesitant, searching.
Savannah gulped, her lips parted spontaneously.
He lowered his head.
She caught her breath.
And then he kissed her.
A knock at the back entrance startled them both. Savannah jumped away, and rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth. Her lips throbbed, abraded by his beard stubble.
Matt stalked to the door and threw it open.
Clem walked in, eyed the eggs and bacon in the wastebasket, the burned biscuits in the sink. “Guess I’m too late for breakfast,” he quipped.
Matt threw him a corrosive glance. “Just tell us what happened with Larkins and Thompson.” He pulled out a chair and waved Clem into it. Savannah poured a cup of coffee for the elderly man.
“Didn’t even find them until after midnight,” Clem explained. “And by then they’d already been through a fifth of whiskey apiece.”
Matt nodded. “What I figured.”
“If you knew that, why did you stay here last night?” Savannah glared. She was still embarrassed about sleepwalking into his arms. And that kiss hadn’t helped matters, had only given her hope when she should be facing reality.
Ignoring her, Matt sat down beside Clem.
“I told ’em you came and arrested Miss Savannah last night, that the farmhouse was sitting wide open and that you’d brought six Gerts back home.”
“Did they seem interested?” Matt leaned forward, the muscles in his arms bunching as he tensed.
“Yeah. They’ll be back,” Clem predicted.
Savannah saw the excited glitter in Matt’s eyes. He loved this stuff, it dawned on her. Completely, passionately. Chasing criminals, tracing stolen goods, bringing the bad guys to justice. He could never give it up. Not for her, not for any woman, and she had no right to ask that of him.
A torturous sensation snaked through her stomach. In the back of her mind, hidden deep down somewhere, had she actually been toying with the idea of resuming her relationship with M
att?
Foolish. For five years she’d played the what-if game, and after Gary’s death, she’d fantasized about a reunion between them. But nothing had changed. The grand passion was still there, yes, but so were the problems. The insurmountable difficulties.
If anything, Matt was even more authoritative. He’d grown into his role as sheriff’s detective, the identity defining him perfectly. He was direct, protective, self-confident. And though she admired those qualities, she also resented them. Directness came across as controlling. Protective spelled domineering. Self-confident was just another word for arrogance.
She couldn’t live the existence of a lawman’s wife. Always wondering, never knowing when that fatal call would come. Especially with a man like Matt. Even for a deputy, he took unnecessary risks, like getting cut by Julio Diaz’s switchblade. How many knife wounds would he endure, how many bullets could he take before one ended his life?
Savannah knew she didn’t want to wait around for the answer.
“You listening to me?” Matt’s voice penetrated her reverie.
“Huh?” She blinked, drawing herself back to the present.
“I’ve got to go into the office for a few hours. I want you and Cody to come with me.”
“And do what? Sit around a police station with a one- year-old? I don’t think so.”
“Then I’ll drop you off at my apartment.”
She shook her head. “No way. We’ll be fine. What could they possibly do in broad daylight?”
Matt sighed. “Savy, you make my job too tough.” “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Since you refuse to listen to reason, then I don’t want you to leave the house at all. Period. In case Larkins and Thompson are watching the place. I’ll get Sheriff Jameson to post a deputy outside in a car to watch the place. End of discussion.”
“But I have to help Clem feed the livestock,” Savannah protested. “And I need to weed the garden. And you know I hate being cooped up indoors.”
“Well, get over it,” he growled. “I’ll help Clem feed the cows before I leave for work. The garden will just have to wait another day.”
She saluted him. “Anything else, Your Lordship?”
Matt grinned. “Lordship. I like that.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “You would.”
“I’m serious, Savannah. Keep out of sight. Larkins and Thompson can be dangerous, especially if they’ve been drinking. Stay in the house, don’t go to the door or take any phone calls. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“If someone unfamiliar shows up, I want you to beep me right away.”
“Okay.”
Matt resisted the urge to bend down and kiss her again. Her lips beckoned to him, full, dewy, waiting to be plucked like a ripe peach. If Clem hadn’t interrupted when he had.. .well, they’d probably be rolling on the floor this very minute, clutched in a wild embrace.
Thank heavens for small miracles. Clem had saved him from a heap of heartache. The woman might be extremely kissable, and very easy on the eyes, but she was tough to get along with.
He guessed Savannah felt obligated to prove her independence. That somehow, she thought her sense of worth was wrapped up in developing her own separate identity.
She’d gone from her mother’s house to Gary’s, never once living on her own. Growing up without a father surely must have extracted its toll on her personality. She must have thought herself unlovable.
And when they were a couple, she’d been so young. He’d naturally taken control of the relationship. So even then, all her actions had gone toward pleasing a man.
He supposed she’d enjoyed her freedom after Gary’s death. And if freedom helped her discover her identity, then Matt was all for it. But in his mind, she needed to learn to trust men, not distance herself from them. Unfortunately, he simply did not know how to help her.
“Lock this door after we leave,” he instructed.
Savannah roiled her eyes. “All right. ”
He located his tan Stetson in the living room, plunked it on his head. “Clem’s going to be on the lookout until the deputy arrives.”
“Stop nagging, Forrester, I get the picture.”
“I just don’t want you pulling some hardheaded stunt.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
If anything happens to her or the boy, I’ll never forgive myself. “I’ll be back long before noon.”
“Not if you don’t ever get out the door.”
“Lock up,” he admonished. Lord, how I want to kiss her.
Savannah gripped Cody’s hand, waved it. “Tell Matt bye- bye,” she coaxed.
“Bye!” Cody squealed suddenly.
“He just said his second word!” Savannah gushed. “Oh, Cody Coo, I love you.” She lifted the boy over her head, planted a kiss on his bare tummy where his T-shirt had ridden up.
Savannah’s face shone like Christmas morning. The sight drove a stab of longing clean through Matt’s guts. Cody should have been his son. Savannah his wife. He should have thought about the consequences before accepting that job offer in Tarrant County five years ago. All their lives would have been so different if he had.
Regrets were useless, there was no changing the past. All he could do was hope for the future.
SAVANNAH FELT DOWNRIGHT claustrophobic. Cody was napping and she had nothing to do. Picking up the remote control, she flipped through the television channels. Soap opera. Click. Game show. Click. Talk show. Click. Infomercial. Click.
She sighed and shut the power off. Never one to stay indoors for long, she hated being cooped up inside. It drove her crazy. She wanted to go out and dig in her garden, or ride her horse, or help Clem with chores. If only Ginger was here to talk to.
Joe Greely, the deputy from Sheriff Jameson’s office, had arrived around eight-thirty, just before Matt left the Circle B. Matt brought him into the house to reintroduce him to Savannah. Joe had accepted a quick cup of coffee, then returned to his car, hidden strategically in a clump of bushes across the road from the ranch. Savannah felt relieved knowing someone was watching out for them in Matt’s absence.
Leafing through a women’s magazine, she stared at the glossy pages, unable to concentrate. She’d already cleaned the house and ironed clothes. What would it hurt if she just sat on the patio for a few minutes? Surely Matt was being overly cautious.
Before she could make up her mind to disobey Matt’s orders, the phone rang.
Tickled at having something to do, she sprinted to the phone, then hesitated. Matt had warned her not to answer it.
The phone jangled again.
Savannah’s hand reached out to touch the smooth plastic. Could it be Larkins or Thompson? Were they calling to check up on Clem’s story, to ascertain that the ranch was vacated?
The third ring echoed throughout the living room and sent a tingle of apprehension sliding down her spine. What if it was something important?
She closed her eyes on the fourth ring, her fingers fairly itching to lift the receiver.
Fifth ring.
Why didn’t they hang up? she fretted.
Sixth ring.
What if it was Matt?
Seventh ring.
Something had to be wrong. Savannah took a deep breath. What could it hurt to answer? If it was an unfamiliar voice, she could pretend they had the wrong number. Tentatively, she raised the receiver to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Sa...Savannah?”
Someone crying? “Hello?” she repeated.
“Vannah... it’s me, Ginger.”
Dread tore through her heart in a white-hot second. “Ginger? Honey? What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’m at the bus station.”
“In Sweetwater?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you’re supposed to be in Cancun. What happened?”
“I came home.” Her sister sniffled into the phone.
“Is Todd with you?” Savannah asked.
>
Silence.
“Gin? You still there?”
“I left him, Vannah, my marriage is over.”
“Oh, honey.” Savannah didn’t know what to say. She sank down into a chair, rested her forehead in her palm.
“Can you come get me, sis? Please? I need to come home.”
Chapter Nine
Savannah hung up the phone, her thoughts spinning like the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair. What to do? She couldn’t leave her sister stranded at the bus station, and besides, she was dying to know what had happened between Ginger and Todd. But Matt had warned her not to leave the ranch, and she didn’t want to jeopardize Cody’s safety in any way. Conflicted, Savannah ran a hand through her hair and sighed.
It would take less than an hour to drive to Sweetwater, pick up Ginger and return to the Circle B. No big deal. She’d simply tell Deputy Greely where she was going, and he could follow her if he wanted to. Or heck, he could even retrieve her little sister for her.
“Bye!” Cody sang out, evidently impressed by his expanded vocabulary. He patted his chubby palms and grinned.
“Aunt Ginger’s gonna be surprised by you,” Savannah told him. “Learning a new word in only three days.”
“Bye!”
“Yes, we’re going bye-bye to get Aunt Ginger.” Savannah gnawed her bottom lip, wondering what Todd had done to upset Ginger so severely. If he’d laid one hand on her sister...
After bundling Cody into the car, Savannah eased out of the driveway, her eyes searching the other side of the road for Joe Greely’s car. She spotted a patch of white behind a clump of mesquite trees. She pulled onto the shoulder of the road, opened the door and got out.
“Joe? You there?” She waited a moment, moved around the clump of trees to find his hidden vehicle. “Are you there? It’s me, Savannah.”
No reply.
She stepped closer. The car sat empty. No signs of Joe.
Shoot. No doubt Joe was off observing the call of nature. She didn’t have time to wait for him. The sooner she went into town, the sooner they’d get back. She debated about leaving him a note, then decided against it. What if by some wide stretch of the imagination Larkins and Thompson did happen by and find the note? No. Better to go after Ginger and get right home.