Jane Bonander

by Warrior Heart

  How can they fight when I love them both? Libby’s head told her the choice had nothing to do with her, but her heart told her differently. She and Jackson were no better than the animals, fighting for Dawn’s affections. However, the dog was Jackson’s, the cat hers. Emotionally, Libby felt her daughter was rejecting that which she’d known longest for something new, something more exciting and more promising. With all that had happened, and what would happen once Dawn was introduced to Jackson’s family, Libby feared her daughter’s choice of a parent had been made as well.

  She prayed she would hear from the attorney soon. She’d wired him shortly after Jackson told her who he was, and now the lawyer appeared to be her only hope. But even if the adoption held up in a court of law, she knew she would never get Jackson out of her life.

  Corey bent over his notebook, leaning toward the light. Leaves and berries, each in a small pile, were heaped up on one side of the kitchen table. A shadow fell across his book, and he glanced up.

  A timid Chloe Ann Parker stood nearby. “Hello.” Her voice was sweet. Soft. Melodic.

  He slowly shoved his notebook to one side, afraid that any swift movement would drive her off. “Hello.” He couldn’t stop the sound of pleasure he knew was in his voice.

  She moved to the table. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh,” he answered with a shrug, certain she was merely being polite, “nothing, really. I’m just cataloging some samples.”

  She reached across him, her lilac scent hovering between them, and plucked up a leaf. With dainty fingers, she touched the thick, shiny surface, then turned it over, exposing the dull, flat underside. “California laurel.”

  Pleased and surprised, he answered, “Not a very exciting specimen, I’ll grant you.”

  “Oh, but you’re wrong. When it flowers, it’s lovely.” She continued to handle the leaf, then snapped it into two pieces. A pungent aroma wafted toward him, obliterating the lilac-scented air.

  “I love this smell,” she murmured, drawing in a long breath. “It’s so … so earthy.”

  Well, well, well, he thought, his interest mounting. “How do you know so much about trees, Miss Parker?”

  “They’re a hobby of mine.” She leaned close to the notebook. “How do you?”

  “I’m compiling a book on the subject.” His smile was quick. “Are you impressed?”

  She rocked onto her heels, her hands clasped behind her, her head cocked to one side. In the light of the lamp, her golden hair shimmered with fire. “Should I be?”

  “By all means,” he answered with mock seriousness. “I would be disappointed if you weren’t.”

  Examining him carefully, she asked, “You’re truly Mr. Wolfe’s brother? You look nothing alike.”

  “We’re not related by blood. My mother married his father.”

  “And little Dawn is his daughter.” She pondered the statement, then added, “From his first day here, he seemed to be interested in her.”

  Noting the dry tone, he asked, “You don’t approve?”

  She raised a tawny brow. “Approve? I don’t think it’s my place to make a judgment. However, Libby is a dear friend of mine, and anything that hurts her, hurts me.”

  Corey shrugged. “Why should she be hurt?”

  Chloe Ann graced him with a sly smile. “You aren’t that naive, are you?” She gave him no chance to answer. “Your brother hopes to take Dawn with him, doesn’t he?”

  “He is her father.”

  “And Libby is her legal mother. Tell me, Corey Wolfe, how such a dilemma can have a happy ending for all?”

  This side of her showed a wisdom he hadn’t imagined. His interest in her grew. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, Chloe Ann Parker.”

  There was a sadness in her eyes as she turned to leave. “That’s true, I guess, but who do you figure will be the most unhappy if he takes Dawn away from her mother? How would you have felt if you’d been ripped from your mother’s arms?”

  A dusty corner of Corey’s memory was jarred, and he suddenly remembered that that very thing had nearly happened to him.

  Jackson glanced at Miss Parker’s retreating form as he stepped into the kitchen. His brother’s gaze was still on the door.

  “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  Corey gave him a lopsided grin. “When I see what I like, I go after it.” His grin turned wry. “I’d think you’d do the same.”

  “What in the hell does that mean?”

  Corey laughed softly. “You’re not that dense, are you?”

  “I must be, because I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” At least he didn’t want to think he was that obvious.

  Jackson went to the stove, checked the pot, and poured himself a cup of coffee, then sat across from his brother. He felt Corey’s probing appraisal.

  “Seems to me the solution to your dilemma is right under your nose.”

  “I don’t have a dilemma,” Jackson grumbled, knowing full well that he did.

  “Whatever you say, big brother,” Corey answered under his breath.

  “I’ll …er …wire the folks in the morning. As soon as I can get away, we’ll take a trip north to the ranch.”

  “Dawn, too?”

  “Of course, Dawn, too. That’s the purpose of the trip, isn’t it?”

  Corey folded his arms over his chest and studied him.

  “You have no qualms about taking Dawn away from here?” Jackson glowered into his coffee, attempting to ignore his conscience. “She’s my daughter.”

  “What about her mother? Haven’t you given any thought to how she’ll feel? Or, for that matter, if she’ll even let you take her?”

  “I’ve contacted an attorney. We’ll see who has legal custody,” he growled. “I have no doubt she’s sent word to one, too.”

  “Ah, a standoff.”

  “I’ll win,” Jackson answered, and meant it.

  “Possibly, but what will you win, big brother?”

  “My daughter, of course. What else is there?”

  “If you do win, don’t you think Dawn would be more willing if you considered a union with the mother, too?”

  “So that’s what you were getting at.”

  Corey chuckled. “Either your head’s made of wood or you’re a little light in the heels. Somehow I don’t think you’re either.”

  In the quiet recesses of his mind, maybe the thought of a union of some sort with Libby O’Malley had occurred to him. Other than Dawn Twilight, however, he had little to offer a woman. He wasn’t interested in remarrying. He didn’t feel it was fair to give a woman false hope.

  “A long-drawn-out court battle would be detrimental to everyone involved, don’t you think?”

  Jackson muttered a curse, knowing Corey was right. “When did you become so almighty brilliant?”

  “A natural gift, I guess.” Corey’s smile was charming.

  Jackson had no doubt that his brother had won many arguments with his smile alone. “I know the separation would be bad, especially for Dawn Twilight. I’ve thought of that. But we can’t make her choose between us. That wouldn’t be fair, either.”

  Corey’s examination of him made him uncomfortable. “Well, say something, will you?”

  Corey heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Mrs. Libby O’Malley is a handsome woman.”

  Jackson snorted. “What’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?”

  “Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed.”

  Oh, he had, all right. At dinner he could hardly take his eyes off her. Sultry Spanish nights. Warm wine … He shook himself. “Of course I’ve noticed. I’m not blind.”

  “And you don’t see any possibilities there?”

  “Possibilities for what?”

  Corey threw his head back and laughed. “Are you purposely dense, or is that your gift?”

  “Ah, Corey, get serious. She’d sooner carve me up and use me as mulch in her garden.”

  “A little honey
goes a long way toward sweetening the tea, brother.”

  Hearing the idea spoken aloud made Jackson uncomfortable. “I’m not like you. I’m a plain, straightforward kind of man.”

  “You’re as poetic as the next guy, Jackson. You could try courting her.”

  Court Libby? He swore again. She’d laugh in his face, then carve out his heart.

  A door squeaked open, and the housekeeper stepped into the room. She wore a voluminous multicolored tentlike garment that could have kept the sun or the rain off a small army.

  “What you two doin’ in here? Lord, I’m tryin’ to sleep, and all’s I hear is chatterin’ and clatterin’.”

  Instantly contrite, Jackson murmured an apology.

  She made a tsking sound in her throat. “Can’t you take your business into the parlor an’ leave me in peace?”

  “Immediately, Mahalia.” Jackson caught Corey’s gaze and nodded toward the door. Corey gathered his samples and rose.

  In the parlor they settled into the chairs that flanked the fireplace. Corey grinned at him.

  “Intimidating sort, isn’t she?”

  “Hell. Mahalia doesn’t like me.”

  “Can you blame her? After all, whether you planned it or not, you’re here to make her boss’s life miserable.”

  Jackson glowered into the dwindling fire. “What a helluva mess.”

  “I still say there’s a way to save it.”

  Jackson dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, pressing hard. “You’re crazier than a bedbug.” Still, the idea had been planted, and try as he might, Jackson couldn’t shake it off.

  12

  Ethan was playing ball with his two youngest boys when Cleb Hartman rode up. He tossed the ball to the younger of the two, Eddy, who caught it, raised his arm, and grinned at his father.

  “Good catch!” Ethan said.

  The boy tossed the ball to his brother, who returned it.

  Ethan watched as Hartman dismounted. “News?”

  Hartman nodded. “Except for contacting the ranchers whose land is involved, it appears to be a done deal.”

  Ethan’s stomach convulsed, but he caught his son’s throw and returned it. “When will that be?”

  “As soon as all the paperwork’s done, I suppose. You know the government doesn’t move very fast. I’m surprised no one’s contacted the landowners yet.” Hartman gave a casual glance toward Ethan’s boys.

  “Then there’s no time to waste. We’ve got to give them at least one more good scare. Do it tonight.”

  Hartman mounted his horse. “Tonight it is.”

  Ethan didn’t watch him ride away. His thoughts were already elsewhere. After his run-in with Jackson Wolfe at the bank, he kept expecting the man to hound him about the “lost” money.

  The sheep ranchers were keeping him busy, fortunately for Ethan. Of course, that was another problem. How long would it be before Wolfe put it all together? He was a worthy adversary, the first Ethan had met, and it wouldn’t take too much for a reasonably intelligent person to figure out what was happening with the sheep ranchers. If that person had any contacts at all, he was probably close to knowing the truth right now.

  “Eddy? Would you get your papa’s flask out of his saddlebag?”

  Little Eddy hurried to do his father’s wishes. He retrieved the flask and returned to Ethan, who took it and swallowed the milk and whiskey, hoping to settle his stomach.

  “You got another bellyache, Pa?”

  Ethan ruffled his son’s golden curls. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, boy.” Before long he might not need another swig of the concoction for his stomach. Mateo’s and Bilboa’s land would soon be his to purchase for a song. Then he could sell it to the railroad for a hefty price and get himself out of a passel of money troubles.

  His gut rebelled again. If only Jackson Wolfe didn’t get in his way.

  Dawn had insisted that Jackson and Libby accompany her to the general store to see a particular bolt of fabric she’d been admiring. Libby knew she wanted a new dress to wear to the party Jackson and Corey had promised her. And Libby knew, too, that she wanted her daughter to look her absolute best. She would work harder on this frock than she’d ever worked in her life. No one was going to suggest that Dawn wasn’t well provided for.

  They strolled home with the fabric, a bright yellow calico with sprigs of green ivy, wrapped in a package under Jackson’s arm. They each held one of Dawn’s hands.

  Stalemate.

  Standoff.

  Dawn gazed up at her mother, then looked at her father. “Are you two going to get married?”

  Surprised and embarrassed, Libby felt her insides flutter and her face flush. “Certainly not. What made you even think such a thing?” She avoided looking at Jackson, but noted out of the corner of her eye that he appeared to concentrate on something far in the distance.

  “Well,” Dawn drawled, “you’re my mother and he’s my father.”

  Libby tossed Jackson a pleading glance, but he refused to make eye contact. Typical, she thought. She couldn’t even count on his help with the simple things. How could he possibly handle something serious?

  “I can be your mother and not be married to your father, dear. It’s as simple as that.”

  Dawn grew quiet. They strolled along in silence, Libby’s brain buzzing. Married to Jackson Wolfe? Hardly something she would have given a thought to. Certainly she was attracted to him, but … marriage? I think not!

  Finally, Dawn said, “But if you two don’t get married, Papa could leave me again.”

  Libby raised her eyebrows. Her fear exactly. Even with Jackson’s emotional promises to stay and his obvious love for his daughter, he could go meandering again. She doubted that even Dawn’s pull was strong enough to stop him. And there was no way that she herself would marry a war-loving wanderer—if the chance ever presented itself. However, she kept quiet.

  Jackson stopped, turned Dawn toward him and bent to meet her questioning gaze. “Dawn Twilight, I’m not going anywhere that I can’t take you with me.”

  Dawn tossed her mother a quick glance. “But … what about Mama? Can she come, too?”

  Libby glanced to one side, attempting to focus on the awning that flapped over the millinery shop. Dawn’s innocent questions were exactly what Libby had feared from the moment she learned who Jackson was. Dawn did not understand the situation, and there was no way to explain it to her. Libby curiously awaited Jackson’s answer.

  “It’s not as simple as that, Dawn Twilight.”

  Quiet again, Dawn suddenly brightened. “It would solve everything if you two would get married.”

  A warning of sorts went off inside Libby’s brain, traveling the length of her body, creating uncomfortable yet provocative sensations everywhere. She knew it was up to her to field the question. “People don’t get married for any old reason, dear.”

  “Why not? When Janelle Anderson’s mama married Mr. Wilson, Janelle said it was because her mama couldn’t run the ranch by herself. And besides,” she added, “it wouldn’t be for any old reason. It would be for me.”

  Libby tried not to squirm with discomfort. “There are those … situations, I guess, when such unions are profitable for both people, but …but our case is different.”

  “Different, how?” Dawn probed.

  “Well,” Libby answered, trying not to stammer, “you see, I have a business to run. I don’t need to marry someone to help me with it. And …and Mr. Wolfe is…well, he’s …”She threw him a frantic, troubled look, hoping for help.

  “Remember, Dawn Twilight,” he said patiently, “I have a family, and they’re waiting for me. Waiting to meet you. Waiting to welcome you as one of their own.”

  Libby felt nauseated.

  Dawn squeezed her hand. “But … I can’t leave Mama. I … I want to meet my new family, Papa, but … but I want to stay with Mama.”

  The relief Libby felt was nearly overshadowed by Jackson’s long, deep sigh.

  “Daw
n Twilight, we can’t—”

  “I won’t leave Mama. I won’t!” She wrenched herself free from both of them and ran on ahead. Libby knew without a doubt that her daughter was in tears.

  Libby and Jackson continued on in silence.

  “Should one of us go after her?”

  Libby glared at him. “And tell her what?”

  “I’m, er, meeting a lawyer this afternoon. He … he suggested that you come, too and …”He cleared his throat. “And bring the adoption papers.”

  Libby nearly sagged to the ground. “I haven’t heard from the lawyer I’ve contacted yet.”

  “Well, at least we can meet, can’t we?”

  Bolstering herself, she replied, “I suppose. But just because your lawyer is there and mine isn’t, don’t think that this thing is anywhere near settled.” She wanted to believe the adoption would hold up in any court in the land. She had to believe it, or her world would come to naught.

  Like the adversaries they were, they sat across from each other. Beneath the table, Libby gave her handkerchief several anxious twists. Otherwise she tried to show no emotion. She was desperate, she knew that. She even allowed herself to wonder what she would do if she lost this battle for Dawn. The sinking in the pit of her stomach told her it was possible.

  She’d checked with the telegraph office on her way over, but there was still no word from the lawyer. Even though Dawn had told them both she wanted to stay with her mother, Libby knew that Jackson was adamant about gaining custody.

  As desperate as she was, marriage to a man like Jackson Wolfe wasn’t a consideration. Never mind that he hadn’t asked her. He had a few good qualities—she’d decided that long ago—and granted, she was attracted to him on a baser level, but she couldn’t imagine marrying him.

  After all, what was to prevent him from growing bored with the bucolic life and taking off again? In spite of his avowal not to, she didn’t trust the words, because the possibility hadn’t yet arisen.

  Oh, why didn’t anyone understand that a man was not a natural parent? A father was not a mother and, in Libby’s mind, could never replace one. They were entirely different entities. She recalled the time, years before, when two young parents were watching their small children splash in the river. The current was strong, and one of the children ventured out too far and was caught up in it. The young mother screamed for the father to fetch the child, but he had told her the child would be all right. The mother, dressed in frock and petticoats, threw herself into the river to save her child. Before the father could reach them, both had drowned.