Wife Most Wanted

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “What else? Oh, yeah, Dana tended to your cats while you were in Billings, and spends a lot of extra time out at your place when you’re not there. She’s pleasant enough, very pretty, but keeps to herself.”

  Kurt chuckled. “Seen Lily Mae Wheeler recently, have you?”

  “Yep. Our town gossip is in prime condition. I probably would have been told what Dana eats for breakfast, if I hadn’t made my escape from Lily Mae.”

  Travis paused. “Back to business. What does Dana Bailey have to do with what happened with the less-than-lovely woman who got you shot?”

  “Dana has secrets, things she’s keeping from me, Travis. She can be so open, honest, real, so giving, caring and…” Kurt stopped talking and cleared his throat. “Anyway, she’s holding something back, not telling me the complete truth. I swore I’d never again get played for a fool by a woman who wasn’t what she appeared to be. Now here I am… What I mean is…”

  “Dana is staking a claim on you.”

  “No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know.” Kurt dragged both hands through his hair. “I order myself to keep away from her, that she’s trouble in a pretty package. Then there I am, knocking on her door at the motel, or telling her she’s more than welcome to hang out at my place as much as she wants to.”

  “Mmm,” Travis said.

  “She’s got the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, Travis. The biggest and most beautiful blue eyes, and…Ah, hell, I’m a wreck.”

  “Yep,” Travis said, nodding slowly. “You’re definitely losing it, buddy. May I offer you some advice, or was I just supposed to listen and keep my big mouth closed?”

  “Whatever,” Kurt muttered.

  “Well, I’d say that you’d best find out everything you need to know about Dana Bailey, and do it as quickly as possible.”

  “Why the rush? To save my sanity?”

  “It may be too late for that. No, the urgency comes from the fact that you, my man, are going down for the count. You’re falling in love with the mysterious Ms. Bailey with the big blue eyes.”

  “You’re out of your mind, Bains,” Kurt said, lunging to his feet. “Yes, okay, I care for her, don’t have any willpower when it comes to staying away from her, but I never said anything about… Damn it, Travis, I’m not falling in love with Dana.”

  Travis planted his large hands on his thighs and pushed himself to his feet. He tugged his Stetson low on his forehead and looked directly at Kurt.

  “Aren’t you?” Travis said quietly. “Are you absolutely positive about that? Think about it, Noble.” He turned and started away.

  “Go to hell, Bains,” Kurt called after him.

  Travis raised one hand in farewell and kept on walking.

  “That man has slipped over the edge,” Kurt said under his breath, as he strode in the direction of the police station. “Well, what do you expect from a guy whose house is overflowing with females? Yep, Travis Bains is nuts. I am not falling in love with Dana Bailey.”

  Kurt covered another ten feet of sidewalk.

  “Am I?”

  Nine

  Just before five o’clock that evening, Whitehorn was buzzing.

  Clem had come out of the coma!

  He’d opened his eyes, said he was hungry, and asked who was minding the store.

  The lawyers involved in the case met immediately with Judge Kate Randall Walker, and a trial date was set for one week later. Kimberly typed—slowly—notices to those being summoned to jury duty.

  A reporter from one of the large newspapers in Billings had driven off the freeway for the precise purpose of having a delicious dinner at the Hip Hop Café before finishing his trip home.

  No one noticed that Lily Mae Wheeler talked nonstop to the young man while he consumed his huge meal. No one heard Lily Mae tell him of Dana Bailey’s courageous actions during the attempted holdup and her admirable willingness to stay on in Whitehorn to be able to testify against the horrible man who had shot their dear Clem.

  No one knew that the reporter filed the story with his paper when he arrived in Billings late that night.

  Kurt bought hamburgers, fries and thick milk shakes, then drove to the Whitehorn Motel, telling himself that Clem’s regaining consciousness and the trial date being set were causes for celebration. He gave Dana the bulletins.

  “I don’t believe it,” Dana said, clasping her hands beneath her chin.

  Kurt unpacked the dinner that was filling the small room with mouthwatering aromas.

  “It’s true,” he said. “Absolutely, positively true.”

  Dana sank onto a chair at the table. “I don’t believe it.”

  Kurt chuckled. “Pick up the phone and call anyone in Whitehorn. The whole town is talking about it.”

  “I’m so glad that Clem is going to recover. I’ll never forget the horror of seeing him shot down like that.” Dana smiled. “And there’s actually a trial date set for a week from now? That’s fantastic.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that you’re pleased,” Kurt said, no hint of a smile remaining on his face. He sat down opposite Dana. “You’ll be able to leave Whitehorn once you testify, and it’s clear that neither attorney plans to recall you to the witness stand. You can ride off into the sunset, exactly the way you’ve been wanting to.”

  “Kurt, don’t,” Dana said, covering one of his hands with one of hers on the top of the table. “Please don’t get angry because I’ll be leaving. We both knew this was coming. You’re not staying in Whitehorn permanently, either, remember? What we began has to end.”

  “Is it that easy for you, Dana?” he said, pulling his hand free. “You were stuck in boring Whitehorn, Montana, so you spiced things up by hopping into bed with a local yokel? Now? Well, thank heavens, you’ll be able to split in a week or so.”

  The color drained from Dana’s face, and pain was reflected in the depths of her expressive blue eyes.

  Ah, damn, Kurt thought, look what he’d done. The idea of Dana leaving, of never seeing her again, had hit him hard, like a punch in the gut. An amalgam of emotions had slammed against his mind, as well, all tangled up in a maze.

  His own upset and inner turmoil had caused him to lash out at the last person in the world who deserved it. He hadn’t meant what he said. He really hadn’t. He…

  Uh-oh, he thought. The color was returning to Dana’s face, and those gorgeous blue eyes were now narrowed and flashing a message as clear as a neon sign. Dana Bailey was mad as hell.

  Dana planted her hands flat on the table and rose to her feet, bending over to speak close to Kurt’s face.

  “How dare you!” she said, her voice quivering with fury. “I will not stand silently by and allow you to cheapen me or what we’ve shared. I don’t give a tinker’s damn what you do with the memories of our lovemaking, Kurt Noble, but you will not tarnish mine. Is that clear?”

  “I…”

  “Shut up. No, it won’t be that easy for me to just get in my car and drive away, leave you, knowing our paths will never cross again. I’m probably going to end up crying over you, and I could come to really hate you for that.” Dana plunked back down in her chair. “Oh, you’re a despicable man.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Kurt sighed. “I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t mean what I said. The thought of your leaving threw me, and… That’s no excuse for… But I am sorry, and I apologize. Believe me, Dana, I’ll be keeping the memories of what we’ve shared in a very safe place.”

  Which did not mean, Kurt mentally tacked on, that he was falling in love with Dana Bailey. Travis Bains was so off base on that, it was laughable. Right? Right. Oh, man, that better be right.

  “Oh,” Dana said.

  “Will you accept my apology?”

  Dana picked up a fry and nibbled on it while she stared at the ceiling.

  “Well?” Kurt said, frowning.

  “I’m thinking it over.”

  Kurt burst into laughter. “You’re something, you really are. At the risk of getting decked for sounding phony and corny, I ha
ve to say this. You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

  “You’re kidding.” Dana laughed. “That’s bottom-of-the-barrel bad. You’ve really got to get some new material, Detective Noble.”

  Their smiles faded slowly as they continued to look directly into each other’s eyes.

  “I’ll miss you very much, Kurt,” Dana finally said softy.

  “I’ll miss you, too, lady. I hope you find Natalie and straighten out whatever it is she has messed up. You might drop me a note, or give me a call, and let me know how it went.”

  “Maybe.” Dana paused. “Let’s not be so gloomy. We’ve got this sensational celebration dinner to eat. Besides, I’m not leaving for a week or so.”

  “True.”

  “The kittens are thriving. They sure gobble up that formula. I named them Minnie, Mickey and Mouse. Cute, huh? Oh, dear, we’ll have to find someone to tend to them after I…”

  “Shh,” Kurt said interrupting her. “We’re not discussing your leaving Whitehorn anymore tonight. The subject is officially off-limits.”

  “All right.” Dana took a bite of hamburger. “Mmm.”

  They ate in comfortable silence, polishing off the fast-food meal.

  “Delicious, and I thank you,” Dana said, stuffing wrappers in the sack.

  “Gourmet to the max,” Kurt said, helping to clean the table.

  “Kurt, let’s paint your living room.”

  “What?” he said, rolling up the top of the sack.

  “I’m serious. It’ll be fun. Your house could be so charming and cozy. I’ve mentally redecorated it while I’ve been out there. I wish you could peek into my mind and see everything I’ve done to it.”

  Kurt smiled absently.

  He’d definitely like to peek into Dana’s mind, he thought, but not to view her plans for his house. He’d give anything to satisfy his lingering doubts, learn exactly what it was that she was still keeping from him.

  “I don’t think my shoulder is up to slapping paint on walls,” he said.

  “Oh, heavens, I didn’t think of that. Well, I could paint the living room. Would you let me do that? Please? I’d enjoy it so much. It was good of you to let me hang out at your house. I’d like to do you some favor in return.”

  Kurt shrugged. “Whatever. Go to the hardware store and get what you need. Just tell them I’ll stop by later and pay for the stuff. Wouldn’t you rather read a book? Painting walls is hard work.”

  “I’m tired of sitting around on my bottom.”

  “It’s a very nice bottom.”

  “Thank you, but I’m still tired of sitting on it. This is great. I’ll start painting tomorrow.”

  “My goodness, Ms. Bailey, you’re getting all maternal and domestic on me here. You’re tending to newborn kittens, and you’re about to spruce up a shabby old house. I think you’re blowing your image of being a big-city corporate attorney.”

  “Yes,” Dana said, appearing rather pleased with herself, “I guess I am. Sitting here seeing myself in my mind’s eye in my power suits, briefcase always at the ready, I look disgustingly stuffy.”

  Kurt rocked onto the two back legs of the chair and folded his arms over his chest as he smiled at Dana.

  “Is that a fact?” he said.

  “Definitely stuffy.” Dana laughed. “The first year I was gainfully employed as an attorney, I bought a pair of wire-rim glasses that were plain glass, not prescription lenses. I thought they made me look older, more serious and important, the way a lawyer should present herself. Can you believe that? I ended up sitting on the silly glasses by mistake and smashing them to smithereens. I never did figure out how that happened.”

  “Don’t feel bad. The first time I went undercover as a cop, I grew a beard, thinking I’d look lean and mean. All the beard did was itch like crazy.”

  They laughed, the sound of the merry, mingled resonance seeming to fill the room to overflowing.

  “You know,” Dana said, her smile fading slowly, “I can’t picture myself picking up my life where it left off once this nightmare with Natalie is over.”

  “No?”

  Dana shook her head. “No. My existence was so narrow, focused entirely on my career. I’ve changed. I’m not who I was then. I now know that my life in Chicago is too empty, too…lonely.

  “I’ve spent hours walking over the land by your house, Kurt. I’ve literally and figuratively stopped and smelled the flowers. There’s more to have in this world than contracts and corporate mergers, and I want, and need, more now.”

  “Such as?” Kurt said.

  His heart was racing, he thought. He could feel it thundering in his chest, and he’d just had to remind himself to breathe. He was waiting for Dana to say she wanted a husband, babies, a home.

  Damn it, that was nuts. What difference did it make to him what changes she planned to make in her life?

  You’re falling in love with the mysterious Ms. Bailey with the big blue eyes.

  Travis’s words beat suddenly against Kurt’s brain. He thudded the chair back onto all four legs, hoping the jarring motion would scatter the disturbing message.

  “Dana?” he said, striving for a casual tone of voice. “What is the more that you’ve decided you now want in your life?”

  “What? Oh, sorry. I was daydreaming, I guess, trying to imagine how I could make it work, come together. I want…well, I want it all…a husband, children, a house that is a real home. I’d still like to use my skills as an attorney, but I’d be in charge, call the shots. I’m talking about having my own practice in Chicago, handling the types of cases that I choose to become involved in.

  “I’d determine the amount of my workload so I’d have room for other things in my life. But I could never give up the career I’ve sacrificed so much to have. It means too much to me. I could not, would not, ever walk totally away from the challenge of that arena.”

  He was going to leap across that table and kiss Dana Bailey senseless, Kurt thought. He was going to shout for joy and maybe turn a cartwheel or two.

  What she was saying about her overzealous dedication to her high-powered career wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was a start, a beginning. It was…

  Damn it, Noble, get a grip, he ordered himself angrily. This was all Travis Bains’s fault. That idiot had declared that Kurt was falling in love with Dana Bailey, and the idiotic statement was doing tricky things to his mind, his ability to reason, think clearly.

  “I wonder if that’s a pipe dream, not a daydream,” Dana said. “Do you think people can really have all that, Kurt? Or is it just too much to ask? Does a person continually fall short in one role or another because they try to wear too many hats?”

  “It depends how badly you really want it all, how hard you’re willing to work at it,” he said. “Two people, a husband and wife, with the same goals, could make a go of it, I think. Yes, I’m certain they could. They’d compromise, share the load, that sort of thing.”

  Dana nodded, her eyes riveted on Kurt’s face, his blue eyes.

  Two people, her mind hummed. A husband, a wife. Kurt and Dana. Babies created by exquisite lovemaking shared. Their children, who would be loved beyond measure. A home filled with warmth and laughter.

  Oh, Dana, don’t do this to yourself.

  She was leaving Whitehorn in a week or so, and Kurt would be returning to Seattle when his shoulder was healed completely. They would never see each other again.

  Yes, her feelings for Kurt were growing steadily, becoming deeper, more intense. She’d deal with that after she had driven away from Whitehorn, Montana.

  She was, foolish as it might be, going to spend as much time as possible with Kurt, share all and everything she could with him, in the days left to her. She was giving, as a gift to herself, those hours and what they would hold.

  But to envision the fictitious husband and wife as the two of them? The children as theirs? A house transformed into a home bursting at the seams with love? All that was beyond foolish. It w
as heartache and tears guaranteed, when she had to face the realization that none of those things would ever come to be.

  She had to change the subject, Dana thought, shift this conversation in another direction, halt the trek down this dangerous road.

  “So!” she said brightly. “Do you have a color preference for your living room walls?”

  Kurt shrugged. “Surprise me.”

  “Well, there’s something I think you have the right to know.”

  “Oh?”

  Dana burst into laughter. “I’ve never painted anything in my entire life.”

  Late the next afternoon, Kurt halted in the doorway of Judd Hensley’s office when he saw that the sheriff was talking on the telephone.

  After Judd motioned for Kurt to enter, he settled in one of the chairs opposite the desk, crossed his stretched-out legs at the ankle and yawned.

  If he sat there too long, Kurt thought, he’d doze off. Not that he was complaining about the lack of sleep he’d had the night before. No way. Not by a long shot.

  He and Dana had made love through the hours of the night, reaching for each other over and over again. It had been incredible lovemaking. Beautiful. Fantastic. A combination of the physical and emotional that was beyond description in its intensity and meaning. It had been a night like no other he’d ever experienced. Dana had been so giving, so…

  “Am I keeping you from your nap?” Judd said, replacing the receiver of the telephone.

  Kurt jerked in the chair. “What? Oh, no, no, I was just thinking about…about what I found at the Kincaid ranch.”

  “Yeah?” Judd said, raising one eyebrow. “It must have been quite a find, to produce such a satisfied smile on your face.”

  Kurt cleared his throat and straightened in the chair, planting both feet firmly on the floor and ordering the heated coil of desire low in his body that his memories had produced to evaporate right now.

  “The Kincaid ranch thing,” he said. “It was weird, Judd.”

  “Fill me in.”