The day he’d met Jeanette and Camille, he’d been struck by the close friendship they’d shared. They’d loved each other like sisters. Protected each other. If Camille had believed Jericho was trying to get Jeanette’s money, she’d do everything she could to protect Jeanette, including coming between Jericho and Jeanette. Camille had been wrong about him, but given the way she’d been raised, perhaps he could give her a pass on that. Perhaps.
“You don’t think the people who are after me would go after my parents or Rodney, do you?”
“No. There would be no point.” At least he hoped they wouldn’t harm her family. He didn’t know anything about these people. But there was no sense in getting her all worked up since there wasn’t a thing she could do. “Harming a sitting federal justice or his prominent surgeon wife seems like a big risk to take. It would bring lots of attention. And your brother is out of the country and out of reach.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am.” Jericho hoped. “And since your brother is hanging with his friends, he might not miss you right away. And it sounds like your parents won’t worry if you miss one phone call.”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“How will you know when it’s safe to return home?”
“I don’t know. Agent Delgado and I had been keeping in touch by email. Now I’m not sure if I can trust him anymore. Even if he didn’t sell me out, someone in his office did. And I’m not convinced his accident really was an accident.”
“Then we’ll have to play it by ear. Right now all you can do is wait here.”
“Wait here,” she repeated, sounding as though it was just this side of torture. Maybe to her it was. But then, having her around wasn’t a day at the beach for him either.
* * *
Camille lay in bed, listening to the sounds of the house. Jericho was moving around in his room. He was pretty quiet, but she was a light sleeper. The thought of getting out of bed flitted through her mind, but she swatted it aside. She didn’t want to disturb his morning routine. Besides, lying in bed and awakening gradually was a welcome change from her usual routine of jumping up at the crack of dawn, showering so quickly she barely got wet, then hopping into a suit and heels before racing out the door, travel mug in hand. Now that she was at Jericho’s ranch, it wasn’t as if she had anything pressing to do.
Truth be told, she wasn’t looking forward to putting on her skirt and blouse yet again. She was so sick of wearing the same outfit, she was considering tossing it into the fireplace and putting it out of her misery. But she couldn’t wrap herself in sheets. Jericho might think that she was out to seduce him again, and things between them would go south fast. She’d just have to pretend her suit was her old school uniform and that it was perfectly normal to wear the same skirt and blouse for days on end.
Her stomach twisted as she recalled her foolish attempt all those years ago to trick Jericho into revealing his true colors. She’d been so sure he was only after Jeanette’s money. After all, who fell in love and got engaged after only a month?
Jericho and Jeanette—that’s who. And as for showing his true character, he was doing that now. He was dependable. Noble. Acknowledging that didn’t make them friends. But it did help her to admit she’d been wrong about him and his reasons for marrying Jeanette. And it did help her dial back her fear a little. Not enough to relax, but maybe enough to stop looking over her shoulder every seven seconds.
The sound of the back door closing was the impetus she needed to get up. Pulling on her despised skirt, she crossed the short hall. She opened the bathroom door and gasped. A pile of men’s clothes was balanced on the edge of the bathtub. There were a couple of T-shirts and two pairs of basketball shorts. They weren’t the height of fashion, but they would be a wonderful change of pace. Unexpected tears burned her eyes at Jericho’s kindness. The cynical part of her reasoned that he’d lent her the clothes only because he couldn’t stand to see her wearing her wrinkled suit one more day, but she refused to let that part diminish the joy his act awakened in her.
She sang softly as she bathed. The shower was the only place she’d sung since she was a freshman in high school and planned to audition for the student and faculty production of The Wiz. Unfortunately, her parents had discovered her plans and forbid her to do something so frivolous.
Throughout her childhood, none of her interests had made them proud. But they’d nearly popped their proverbial buttons when she landed a job in the financial sector. Not only was she making a ton of money, but her job actually dealt with money. To the Parkers, there was nothing greater. For the longest time she’d believed as they had, reaching for the brass—no, platinum—ring. She’d worked from sunup to late into the night. She’d spent her weekends working, no longer pursuing her interests. And where had that single-minded devotion gotten her? Hiding out on a ranch with a man who hated her while hired assassins sought to wipe her off the face of the earth.
She didn’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the way she’d turned into her parents, defining success by how high she climbed at work and how much money she earned. When she’d been young, she’d enjoyed baking. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d whipped up a batch of cookies just for the fun of it. Truth be told, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d done anything just for fun. Well, no more. If she survived this, she was going to start living—no, loving—her life.
She took her time as she dressed, savoring the feel of the clean clothes against her skin. She inhaled deeply and imagined she could smell Jericho’s male scent mingled in with the floral perfume of the laundry detergent. Wait—what could she possibly be thinking? Why in the world would she have such ridiculous notions about Jericho Jones of all people? They were combatants who’d decided to try being nice to each other. No more than that.
After she finished dressing, she darted down the stairs and out the door in search of Jericho.
His baritone voice, perfect for a rancher, came from the direction of the corral, and she followed it. Having grown up in Chicago and lived in New York, she was unused to seeing so much lush green grass or the small animals frolicking around the property. And she couldn’t get over the smell. The air was so sweet and fresh, the day so perfect that nothing could possibly go wrong.
Camille gave a most unladylike snort at her fanciful thoughts. If she wasn’t careful she’d be spouting poetry next.
When she reached the white fence, she put her foot on the bottom rail and leaned her arms against the top. Jericho was riding a beautiful brown horse in tight circles. She watched him for a moment, caught up in the very grace of the man.
He was dressed in jeans so faded they were white in places. They emphasized his well-defined thighs so well they could have been custom-made for him. With a faded plaid shirt taut across his broad chest, he was every woman’s cowboy dream come to life. Not that she would ever admit to a hankering for cowboys.
Jericho looked up and saw her staring. He guided the horse over to the fence. “I see you found the clothes.”
Telling her foolish heart to calm down, she nodded. “Yes. Thanks. I think I would have gone out of my mind if I had to wear that suit one more day.”
“I should have thought of it sooner. Sorry I don’t have anything that would fit you better. It was hard, but I gave away Jeanette’s clothes.”
“She had such a generous heart. That’s what she would have wanted you to do.”
He nodded and his eyes took on a faraway look. Was he thinking about Jeanette? She’d been so loving and kind, a better person than Camille could ever hope to be. And Camille had just thrown away her friendship, not recognizing its true value.
Camille stood straight and looked into Jericho’s eyes. “I know I said it before, but I want you to know how much I appreciate your letting me stay here. If our situations were reversed, I’m not sure I’d be as gracious. In fact, I’m sure I w
ouldn’t be. So thanks, Jericho.”
He seemed surprised by her words and maybe a little uncomfortable. Obviously, he hadn’t expected her to be so humble. He nodded and cleared his throat before looking at her high-heeled shoes. “We’ll have to make a trip into town today and get you some clothes and shoes. Probably a few other things, as well.”
“Do you think it’s safe to leave here?” Camille spread her arms, encompassing the expanse of land. There was nothing but green grass and rolling hills as far as the eye could see. And not another soul around. But if they went into town someone would spot her. And it wasn’t as if she would recognize the people looking for her. She hadn’t seen their faces. She didn’t know how many there were. And come to think of it, the killer could be a woman. And although she wouldn’t recognize them, they knew exactly what she looked like. She’d be a sitting duck in town.
“You’ll be perfectly safe. Remember, no one in New York knows about me. And you don’t have a connection to Sweet Briar so there’s no reason for them to look here.”
That was true. And hadn’t she just promised herself to stop jumping at every shadow? Not to mention that there were certain items she couldn’t do without. But she had a limited budget. She’d have to make wise choices and buy only what was necessary. A few T-shirts, underwear and a couple of pairs of shorts ought to be enough. “You’re right. I’m ready when you are.”
“I’ll meet you by the truck in about ten.”
Fifteen minutes later she was looking out the window of his pickup as they drove down the driveway. She’d been racing for her life when she’d arrived, and the last thing on her mind had been the scenery. Her short walk the other day had been nice, but she hadn’t seen much of the Double J.
She saw several stands of trees spaced so randomly they couldn’t have been put there by a landscaper.
A flock of birds flew through the air, swooping occasionally as if playing a game as they enjoyed this spectacular day.
Impossible.
“What’s impossible?”
Heat crept up her cheeks, and she spun in her seat and looked at Jericho. “Did I say that out loud?”
He had one hand draped over the steering wheel. He glanced at her and nodded. “You did. But if you answer my question it won’t look like you’re talking to yourself.”
She chuckled. “I was just thinking that the birds were enjoying themselves.”
“I don’t see why that would be impossible.”
She hid her surprise. Part of her had expected him to mock her whimsy. He was surprising her at every turn. She was coming to believe she’d misjudged him before. Of course, that realization sat like a rock in her stomach. Perhaps she should stop expecting the worst from him.
They drove in silence for a while, but it was surprisingly comfortable and she didn’t feel compelled to fill the quiet with mindless chatter. After about forty minutes they reached town. The main street was absolutely charming. Flower boxes overflowed with blooms in various colors and shapes. Mature trees swayed in the gentle breeze. The street was pristine, and the sidewalks looked as if they had been recently swept. Not even a gum wrapper lay on the ground. The place was postcard perfect. It was so different from New York that she blinked to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.
The town was awakening and people began filling the streets, walking as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Several men were gathered in front of a barbershop complete with the old-fashioned striped pole. One man looked up and then nudged the others. They all seemed to take an inordinate interest in Jericho. A woman walking into a candy store stopped and stared as they drove by. Jericho didn’t appear to notice, but the attention made Camille’s skin crawl. She blew out a breath and reminded herself that she was safe. Besides, Jericho appeared to be the one drawing their attention, not her.
“I bet you can’t wait to get some clothes.”
“Yes.” Although she was grateful for what Jericho had provided, she’d feel more comfortable in women’s clothes that fit better.
“There’s a boutique on the corner that’s popular with tourists. You should be able to find something acceptable there.”
At one time such a store might be a place she’d like to check out. Now? Not a chance. “I would prefer someplace a little less expensive.”
The way he looked at her made her wonder if she’d sprouted a mole with a long hair on her nose. She’d arrived in a suit that cost thousands, so she could understand his shock. “I only have a few hundred dollars on me. I need to stretch my money as far as possible. I can’t use my credit cards because they can be traced, so I’m going to go for quantity over quality.”
“Gotcha. I seem to remember a little store that has reasonably priced women’s clothes a couple of blocks from here.”
“You remember?”
“There’s no need for me to go there any longer.”
Camille cringed. How could she be so stupid? “Right.”
They drove another block and Jericho parked in front of a Victorian house that had been converted into a shop. The red brick building was well kept. There was a discreet sign in the window advertising Clothes by Hannah. Camille sighed with relief. She’d envisioned a run-down building and a sign with missing letters advertising a sale. If the clothes matched the classy exterior, she was guaranteed to find something stylish she could afford in her tight budget.
She opened the front door and a bell sounded.
“I’ll be right with you. Feel free to look around,” a female voice called from the back of the store.
Camille looked over at Jericho, who was standing just inside the door. “I’ll be okay if you want to leave.”
He shook his head and stepped beside her. His masculine scent wrapped around her, and she barely resisted the urge to lean in closer. One corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile, and her heart skipped a crazy beat. “I’m good here.”
“Great,” she croaked, and he raised one of his eyebrows. She hoped he couldn’t tell how his nearness was beginning to affect her.
There were racks of dresses, skirts, blouses and shorts in various styles. The clothes were grouped by color as well, which made it easy for her to zero in on her favorite shades of orange, blue and green.
She grabbed an aqua shirt in her size and fingered the fabric. It was of good quality and the stitching was neat and strong. Camille looked at the price and felt the color rush from her face. Although the blouse wasn’t expensive—indeed, given how well made the top was, it was a steal at twice the price—she couldn’t afford it. Sighing, she replaced it on the rack.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
“It’s beautiful. But I can’t afford it.” She inhaled deeply. “Is there a discount store around?”
“We don’t need to go to a discount store.”
Hot tears burned her eyes. Did he think she didn’t want these pretty clothes? “I told you. I have to make my money last. I need to find cheaper clothes.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m buying.”
Chapter Five
“No, you’re not.” Camille folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. She was acting like a six-year-old but didn’t care because she was starting to feel like one. She was dependent on Jericho for shelter, food and even protection if it came down to that. No way was she going to become indebted to him for clothing.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the shop attendant said as she entered the front of the store. Immaculately dressed, the woman smiled warmly at them. She didn’t even blink an eye at Camille’s ill-fitting men’s clothing. “I’m Hannah. How can I help you?”
“I’m sorry. You can’t. Not today. Your clothes are lovely, but I have to go.”
Camille tried to brush past Jericho, but he grabbed her elbow and held her just tight enough so that she couldn’t leave without making a scene. Clearly
he didn’t know she was channeling her inner first-grader and was on the verge of having a tantrum. He smiled at the saleswoman. “Give us a second, would you?”
“Certainly.” The woman walked away and began untangling bracelets hanging on a display rack on the other side of the room.
Camille pasted on a saccharine smile. But she didn’t bother disguising the fury in her voice even if she did whisper. She knew better than to let outsiders witness a private dispute. Jericho wasn’t family, but this matter was definitely private. “I don’t need your charity.”
“Of course you do.” She thought he’d be offended by her tone, but his smile was firmly in place. Unlike hers, his appeared genuine. She couldn’t imagine what was behind his change of heart. “You’re staying in my home and eating my food, such as it is.”
“Exactly. That’s bad enough. I won’t compound the problem by mooching clothes from you.”
“Is that what you think you’re doing? Mooching? Do you somehow think you’re taking advantage of me?”
She nodded, and to her shame, tears pricked her eyes. Please don’t let them fall. “I know you hate me and don’t really want to help me. You’re only doing it because of Jeanette. Because you think you owe my family.”
He was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was gruff and yet somehow gentle. “Maybe I am, but you only came to me because of Jeanette, right?”
She nodded.
“As far as hating you...” He blew out a breath and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s not as easy now that I see you as an actual flesh-and-blood person as it was when you were the monster I remembered. You know?”
She understood. She was starting to see Jericho in an entirely different light, too, and wasn’t any more comfortable about it than he was. She especially wasn’t pleased about the physical attraction, but hopefully it was just due to the circumstances.
“So why don’t you let me buy these clothes for you, okay?”
The Rancher and the City Girl Page 5