by Tina Leonard
He stared at his sister, reality socking him in the face. “How in the hell did that happen?”
Ash shrugged. “I gave her my keys.”
His jaw dropped. “What?”
“She wanted to go. I gave her my keys, told her how to get off the mountain without driving past your snowbound lair out there.”
“You had my pregnant wife drive up to the top of this mountain and go down the other side, in this weather, without even knowing if the roads were passable at the top?” He slumped into a chair at the table, unable to look away from Ash’s gamine face. She stared at him calmly.
“You can’t keep her prisoner.”
“I know that! She wasn’t a prisoner, damn it. We had things to work out.” She’d kissed him just as passionately as he’d kissed her last night, and he’d been pretty certain they were about to finally find out what making love together in a bed would be like.
And now this bombshell.
He felt wrecked.
“I’m so sorry, brother,” Ash said. “I usually don’t get involved in people’s personal lives.”
“You always get involved in everybody’s personal lives,” Jace said.
“What I mean is that I would never have done it, except that I can’t bear for anything to be trapped. You know that.” Ash stared at him. “Sawyer seemed as lost as the animals I do rescue work with. I wanted her spirit to be as free as the Diablos. You know how important that is.”
He grunted, not happy.
Ash put a hand on his arm as she sat next to him. “Brother, it’s bad to start off a marriage with one person feeling trapped. That’s not the way you want Sawyer.”
He just wanted her. He didn’t really care how he got her.
Which was a problem.
“She’ll come to you,” Ash said.
“Runaway brides usually run for a reason.”
His sister sighed. “Okay, I don’t know that she’ll come back for sure. But you two have a lot to build on.”
“Not really.”
“The children, Jace. They’ll be a huge part of your lives.”
He nodded. “Sharing custody with my wife isn’t what I had in mind.” No doubt Sawyer would want to divorce him now. Maybe even annul the marriage. Damn it, she might ask for a divorce and an annulment, which would stink to high heaven.
“She’s just heartbroken,” Ash said.
“Sawyer is heartbroken?” He got up and moved to stare out at the dawning sky.
“She knows you don’t trust her.”
“That’s a whole other problem.”
“Jace, relationships are built on mutual trust and respect.”
He shook his head. “There’s no reason for us to stay here. Come on. Pack your bags.”
“Bags? Since when do I travel with a bag?” His sister stood, reached for her coat and backpack.
“Whose joint is this, anyway?” He glanced around one final time. It was a great place for a honeymoon—if two people wanted to be alone together. Sawyer hadn’t wanted that.
“It’s Grandfather’s,” Ash said, sounding surprised.
Jace took further stock of the cabin. “It can’t be. It’s too frilly.”
She smiled. “Poor Grandfather. Don’t you think he has a life of his own?”
Jace looked at her. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“Close your eyes.”
His sister was trying his patience, but he complied.
“What do you feel?” she asked softly.
“Pissed.”
“Besides that. Look beyond your own emotions.”
He focused on the smell of the cabin, the feel of the hot mug in his hand, the sense of home that pervaded every corner of the small house. “A woman lives here. A happy, contented woman.” He opened his eyes.
Ash smiled at him. “Yes, she does.”
“Who?”
“You’re older than me. You have to remember more.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder. “It’s time to go.”
He followed his sister out, glanced behind him one last time, then locked the door. After putting the key back under the board where he had found it, he stared at the cabin a moment longer, its presence in the wooded mountain joyfully framed by the sun. Icicles hung from the eaves, and in the sky overhead, a hawk soared.
He looked at Ash. “Our parents?”
She smiled. “I don’t know where our parents are. I only know I feel their spirits here.”
Jace followed her to the truck and they got in. “Grandfather told you something.”
“He told me that the cabin is the family’s. That it’s vacant right now because it always is in winter. Winter can be harsh on the mountain.”
Jace drove slowly through the snow. “It’s not the winter that’s harsh here. It’s the loneliness and solitude.”
“That’s right.”
He was amazed by his sister’s knowledge. She always seemed sort of otherworldly—had from the time she was born. “Did you even try to talk Sawyer into staying?” He’d liked to have told Sawyer about his parents. They’d never mentioned their families to each other. He had a faint memory of his mother and father; as the second eldest, he’d been old enough to remember when they’d gone.
It had been like a knife wound in his heart that hadn’t eased for years. For so long he’d felt deserted, betrayed, angry. He’d known why they had to leave, but he was still angry at the people who’d made them go.
The same people for whom Sawyer had been wearing a wire. Betrayal and anger ripped through him again. “How could Sawyer do it?”
“Family is important to her.”
“Damn it, I’m supposed to be her family. We’ve made a family together!”
“Easy, hoss,” Ash said. “No one ever said our lives were going to be easy. The path isn’t straight, with magical road maps.”
“I know that.” He knew that only too well.
“We are all on the journey, even Sawyer.”
He grunted. “You’re starting to sound more like Running Bear all the time.”
“I hope so,” she said softly, so softly that he glanced at her curiously.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ash said. “It’s just that sometimes I know I’m not as good as Sawyer is. Or even my brothers. I’m the misfit in this family.”
“Ash!” Jace was completely stunned by her words. “You’re not a misfit at all!”
“I’m going to sleep,” she said, sticking her backpack under her head for a pillow. “Wake me when we cross the state line.”
“Why the state line?”
“Because it’s important to see where I’ve been and where I’m going.”
Jace was bothered by her words, but not really certain why. He should be angry with her, yet he wasn’t. In a way, she’d helped him and Sawyer. Ash was right: Sawyer’s confession had changed everything. They needed time to absorb the new twists in their relationship. He still couldn’t believe Sawyer had meant to harm his family. She’d won him at the ball for a reason, and it hadn’t been just to tell him about the babies.
Ash was right: the path didn’t point straight, with a magical road map. In fact, it was bumpy as hell and strewn with potholes.
He’d see his wife soon enough, and then they’d get everything worked out. Somehow.
* * *
“IT’S NOT GOING to work.” Sawyer laid Ash’s keys on the kitchen counter and looked at Fiona Callahan, the eccentric aunt of the Callahan clan. “Jace doesn’t trust me. And he has no reason to.” She took a deep breath. “Fiona, I need a place to stay, but it can’t be here. Nor at my uncle’s old place.” She’d be too close to Jace, and she knew Running Bear wouldn’t want her staying anywhere near Rancho Diab
lo, anyway.
Fiona shook her head. “You just let me pour you a cup of tea, Sawyer. You look exhausted. It’s a long drive from Colorado. Goodness, you should have flown!”
“I wanted to drive. I like driving to clear my thoughts.”
“Well,” Fiona said, putting a pretty china cup with pink flowers on it in front of her and a bowl of sugar cubes next to that, “Jace is going to want you to be with him, so you might as well get used to the idea. I’d stay put until he gets back.”
Sawyer picked up the delicate cup. “Fiona, I can’t. You don’t understand what I’ve done. He has a reason to feel the way he does.”
“Let’s let Jace decide how he feels, shall we?” The older woman slid a piece of spice cake next to Sawyer’s tea. “Patience rules the day, I always say.”
Patience wasn’t going to help her. Sawyer was so ashamed she could hardly bear it. Everything had happened so quickly, had gotten away from her. She’d prided herself on being a competent bodyguard, and then had let herself operate from a position of weakness. Let herself be wrangled into a bad situation that could never be fixed.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little nap?” Fiona suggested.
“Why are you still here?” Sawyer asked suddenly. “If it’s so dangerous at the ranch, with the Feds and the spies and the reporters crawling everywhere, why haven’t your nephews made you leave?”
Fiona smiled. “When you’re my age, you get to do as you please. And I cook.” She tried to sound lighthearted, saw that Sawyer wasn’t convinced. “I’ve already been kidnapped by Wolf, and he doesn’t want me again. Have you forgotten I burned his last haunt down to the ground?” She looked very satisfied by that. “Life is good in my world.”
“I can’t wait to be at that point.”
“You’re closer than you think.” Fiona smiled at her, then turned to put a sheet cake in the oven. “It’s all about believing in your purpose.”
“Maybe.” Sawyer’s purpose had changed. Maybe that was the problem: she’d drifted. Gotten off course.
“Wait until those babies are born. You’ll have so much purpose you’ll be overflowing with it. Everything will get better.”
Not if her marriage wasn’t going to work out. “I betrayed your family, Fiona.”
“Let us decide that. Even if you did, what really happened? Isn’t our house still standing? Aren’t we still a family?” Fiona topped off her tea. “No one can take the important things in life away, if one knows what those treasures are.”
“You’re trying to make me feel better.”
“And I’m succeeding. Now eat that cake. I made blue-ribbon spice cake, my dear, and there’s nothing better in February than homemade spice cake with cream cheese frosting.”
Sawyer dutifully ate a bite—and to her surprise, the cake actually seemed to make her feel better. Or maybe it was Fiona, or being in the house where Jace lived. Hope rose inside her.
Maybe things could work out, after all. Maybe he wouldn’t regret marrying a woman from the wrong ranch.
Maybe he would.
Chapter Seven
Sawyer was in bed upstairs at Rancho Diablo, as Fiona had talked her into staying at least for the night, when she heard the measured tread of boots outside her door. She raised up, waiting to see if the man standing outside her door would knock. Her heart beat faster, waiting—then crashed a little when the footsteps went down the hall.
She lay back down to stare at the ceiling. No matter what Fiona said, the marriage was over before it had even started. Suddenly, the room felt too warm. Her conscience weighed on her terribly, and the regrets seemed overwhelming. The babies kicked inside her, unsettled by her restlessness.
She was in a beautiful home with wonderful people whose trust she wanted more than anything, a family she desperately wanted to be part of. The seven-chimneyed Tudor house with the expansive grounds had always seemed like heaven to her, but the Callahans were the heart and soul of Rancho Diablo. There wasn’t one she didn’t like, and they’d treated her so well. They were the family she’d never really had—except for Uncle Storm.
She’d never be part of this family now. She’d always be an interloper.
The thing was, she’d do it all over again if it meant giving Uncle Storm the help he needed. She was no different from the Callahans, who were determined to protect their family from Wolf and his gang of dangerous cutthroats.
She sighed, trying to get comfortable, and put a hand over her swiftly growing stomach. It still felt so strange to think of Jace as her husband. She’d known eventually her house of cards was going to fall in on her—but she’d wanted him so much. Saying no had never been an option, and she didn’t regret one single moment of their adventuresome lovemaking, either.
Sawyer jumped when someone knocked briskly on the door, then eased it open.
“Sawyer.”
She sat up. “What?”
“I’m coming in.”
Just like a Callahan, to announce and not ask. “Fine.” She sat up, flipped on her bedside lamp. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the handsome man whom she’d deserted not that many hours ago. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” Closing the door, Jace sat on the foot of her bed, frowning, royally displeased.
She couldn’t blame him.
“What happened?” Sawyer ran her gaze over Jace’s hands, which bore a few cuts that hadn’t been there last night. His dark hair was a bit wilder than usual, and his face looked drawn.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing you want to talk about, you mean. Quite clearly, something happened.”
He shook his head. “Long drive home.”
She’d made the same drive, so that wasn’t a good excuse. “Let me get you some bandages and some ointment.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped. “I don’t need any coddling.”
“Okay,” she said, just as snippily, and shrugged. “Suit yourself.” All she needed was a grumpy cowboy with his dark side in a twist to put the final icing on her day. It was plain he was angry, and she couldn’t blame him.
But if he wanted to sit there like a big miserable lump, she was going to go to sleep. There was no point in talking to him if all he was going to do was glower at her.
“Here,” Jace said, pulling a tiny white box from his sheepskin jacket and handing it to her.
“What is it?”
“The purpose of a box is to make the person receiving it open the damn thing,” he said crossly.
“I don’t want to.” She was dying to. But she didn’t want gifts. She wanted to start over, with forgiveness as the beginning point.
And lots of hot, sexy kisses.
“Then don’t. It’s clear no one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
She put the small box on the nightstand and glared at her husband. “I had to leave, and you know it as well as I do. There’s no point in rehashing what I told you in Colorado, and I wish I hadn’t done what I did, but I don’t really know how I would have done anything differently.” She took a deep breath. “Also, there’s no need for you to feel like you have to protect me. I’ll get my own bodyguard, Jace. What I want is...”
She stopped, and he looked at her curiously. “What?”
“Something I can’t have,” she finished miserably. “I don’t want presents, either. I never meant for you to have to marry me, and I should have dug my heels in on that. Especially since I knew I was hiding a secret.”
He nodded. “Very dishonorable of you, that secret-keeping business.”
“Probably,” she said hotly, “but you Callahans bring a lot of misery on yourselves. You were never nice to my uncle. What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” he said, sounding tired. She gazed at her big, strong
husband, noting the heaviness in his eyes. He looked so sad that she ached. “I probably would have done the same thing,” he said, his gaze drifting down to the Under Construction message on her T-shirt, stopping at her watermelon-shaped belly. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine. Although I’ll admit the babies are keeping me awake tonight. They’re doing gymnastics.”
It wasn’t the babies keeping her awake, of course. It was the sexy cowboy sitting on her bed.
“That’s good. They’ll be big and strong.” That pronouncement wiped a bit of the annoyance from his face, and Sawyer thought Jace looked plenty pleased with himself now. “Let me know if you need anything.” He got up and went to the door, before turning back to face her. “It wasn’t my intention to make you feel trapped.”
“I know. I just spooked. And I wish our situation could have started out better.” Sawyer shook her head. “I think I probably make you feel trapped.”
He shrugged. “I shouldn’t have taken you to Las Vegas. Or Colorado.”
Was he saying he was sorry he’d married her? Icy worry flooded her. That was the last thing she wanted. “I’m glad we got married. You were right about that. For the children.”
“Yeah, well, they’ll have plenty of documentation. Ash has put about fifty photos of the ceremony on the website.”
“Website?” Sawyer hadn’t known Rancho Diablo had one.
He nodded. “Running Bear’s brainstorm.”
She started to ask when his grandfather had become interested in having a site for the ranch, but then realized there was no point in making Jace feel she was digging for information. “That was nice of Ash to commemorate the ceremony. Although we weren’t there long enough for fifty photos. And I didn’t see her with a camera that much.” Sawyer had been too busy ogling Jace.
“You’d be surprised what my sister can do.”
“I am sorry about everything, Jace,” Sawyer said, meaning it.
“I am, too. And as much as I know this is going to be like throwing kerosene on a fire, you’re going to have to leave here tomorrow.”
He was right, but it felt as if a fire exploded in her heart at the thought that he was anxious for her to leave. “I know. I told Fiona I needed to go somewhere.”