WILD BLOOD

by Naomi Horton

  "Your old man wouldn't have, but your uncle didn't seem to mind. He made sure my name got put on the thing, as legal as hell. He said if I wanted Jody, he'd help me with the paperwork." He smiled grimly. "I don't think it had much to do with me. I think he just wanted to tick your old man off."

  Which was the only thing he'd said so far that made sense. Mac had been her father's younger brother and had put up with Nelson's tyranny for most of his life. But now and again he would have enough. Defying her father on something this big would have appealed to him.

  "And you're saying my father just backed off without a fight and let Mac have his way?" She gave a snort. "I don't believe that for a minute!"

  "Oh, there was a fight, all right. Your old man swore he'd have me charged with statutory rape if I even thought about bringing Jody back here. He said he'd make sure I got hard time, and plenty of it." Jett could still hear the cold anger in her father's voice, the memories as vivid as yesterday. "Your uncle called Cliff Albright and told him I needed help. Cliff hated your old man almost as much as he loved a good fight. He was all set to take it to court, but your old man didn't want the publicity. So we came to an … agreement."

  "And you got my baby."

  "My baby," Jett reminded her with an edge in his voice. "As far as I knew, you didn't want him."

  "And the agreement you had with my father?"

  Jett didn't say anything for a long moment. Then he realized all he had left to give her was the truth. "I got thirty thousand dollars, a job with a stock contractor in Arizona and the guarantee you were giving up all rights to Jody. In return, I agreed to stay out of Burnt River and never contact you or anyone in your family. No one was to know Jody was your son. Not even Jody." He smiled humorlessly. "Your old man didn't want Jody turning up on his doorstep in a few years, looking for his grandpa and maybe some of that precious Patterson money."

  She didn't say anything, sitting there on the floor looking lost. Her hair was all tangled, and he could tell she'd been crying by the roughness in her voice and the way she kept her face averted. Pam hadn't liked to cry in front of him, either.

  It must be a special knack he had, he thought dully, making his women cry.

  He thought of telling her that he was sorry, but wondered what good it would do. Found himself thinking he had to go home pretty soon and tell Jody, and that wasn't something he was looking forward to. The lies had wound themselves into the fabric of their lives like strands of wire, and he wondered what was going to be left when it finished unraveling.

  Jody. If he lost Jody, he had nothing left at all.

  "But you didn't stay out of Burnt River."

  "When my granddad died and left me the Kicking Horse, I decided I'd had enough of your old man's threats. I knew he didn't want you finding out that the adoption had fallen through and that I had Jody, so I figured he couldn't afford to cause trouble if I moved back. I just made damn sure Jody never went near him."

  "That's what you were talking about that first day I was back. That's why you were so angry, so … scared."

  "When I saw you with him that day, I thought you knew. I thought that was why you'd come back. That now your old man was dead, you were going to try to get Jody away from me."

  "And Pam?" She took a deep breath. "How did she fit in?"

  "I was eighteen. A rodeo bum. I didn't know anything about babies. Marrying Pam seemed like a … good idea. And Albright told me that if the people who'd originally wanted to adopt Jody changed their minds and came after him, my chances of keeping him were better if I had a wife."

  "How in God's name did you talk her into marrying you to raise my baby?"

  "She loved me," he said simply.

  Kathy nodded slowly, her eyes meeting his through the shadows. They were still stunned with shock and hurt, but there was something else in them now. Something cool and thoughtful that reminded him very suddenly of her father.

  Something prickled the back of his neck, and he wondered what she was thinking. But before he could ask her, she got to her feet and walked across to the window. She pulled the drapes open, and he was surprised to see it was already dark.

  "You weren't going to tell me, were you?" Her voice was controlled and remote. "You thought I was going back to Baltimore. That if you didn't tell me, that would be the end of it. You knew that if Mac hadn't told me by now, he never would." She turned to look at him, her eyes like ice. "You never intended to tell me at all."

  Jett gritted his teeth and considered trying to lie his way through it. But he was sick of the lies. Sick of looking into his own eyes in the bathroom mirror every morning and despising what he saw. "Not at first," he finally admitted roughly.

  "You bastard." She said it coldly and turned her back on him.

  There didn't seem much point in arguing with her, so he said nothing. Wondered where they went from here. Then, finally, he swore and got stiffly to his feet. "Look, it was wrong, I admit that. But I was scared you'd … do something. Try to get him away from me or something. But later, I knew I had to tell you. That—"

  "You knew you had to tell me because Sherry suspected the truth. You knew you wouldn't be able to keep her quiet for long."

  "I was planning on telling you long before I talked to her."

  "But not before you slept with me."

  Jett tried not to wince. "I … hell, Kath, what do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? That I should have told you that day up at Beaver Creek? I was all set to, but—" He shook his head wearily, not even knowing how to explain it.

  "You should have told me fifteen years ago." She turned her head to give him a long, cold stare.

  "They told me you didn't want him," he said in a tight voice.

  "And you believed them?" Her eyes were chilly with disbelief. "I loved you! Did you really think I'd give your baby away?"

  "As far as I knew, you didn't want me or my baby. How the hell was I supposed to know they'd lied to you?"

  She held his gaze for a long while, her eyes hostile and angry; then she turned away from him again. He stood there and looked at her, wanting to walk across and pull her into his arms and have things back the way they were. Wanting it all to be over.

  Knowing there was no way it was going to be that easy.

  "That's what these past three weeks were all about, wasn't it?" She didn't even look at him as she said it, her shoulders rigid. "I was stupid enough to think it meant something, but it didn't have anything to do with me—it was all about Jody. All about making sure I wouldn't try to take him away from you."

  "No, Kath, it wasn't like that. I never even intended to—"

  "Oh, you intended, all right." She turned on her heel to look at him, eyes sultry with anger. "You damn well intended to get me into bed again, because you knew if you did, I'd do anything for you, just like last time. You knew all you had to do was make me fall in love with you again. That I'd never fight you for Jody if I loved you." She blinked and turned away abruptly.

  Jett took a step toward her, one hand out to touch her shoulder. He caught himself just in time and lowered his arm. Loved you. "Kath, that's crazy. It wasn't like—"

  "You planned the whole thing. It must have scared you half to death, coming up here to The Oaks that afternoon and finding Jody here. You knew you had to do something. So you followed me up to Beaver Creek the next day, all sweet and nice." She gave a ragged laugh. "I knew you were up to something that day. But I never could resist that Kendrick charm. And you knew that. You knew all it would take was a little sweet talkin', a little kissin' … push all those old buttons and I'd be head over heels in love with you again in no time at all."

  "There was never any plan," Jett said harshly. Love. She kept talking about love, talking as though…

  "The problem, Jett, is that in all your scheming and plotting, you forgot one salient fact. The one thing you should never have forgotten." She crossed her arms in front of her, looking every inch the attorney she was, and leveled a look at him that was so hos
tile, so cold, that Jett felt a jolt of raw fear. "You forgot I'm my father's daughter."

  Jett just stared at her. Dread clotted in his belly, and he swallowed, knowing what came next.

  "I suggest you spend the next few days finding yourself a good lawyer, Jett. Because the next time I see you, it's going to be across a courtroom."

  Jett could hear the blood pounding in his temples. "What … what the hell do you mean by that?" he finally managed to whisper.

  "I want my son back." She enunciated each word clearly and slowly, letting them hang in the air like ice crystals. "And if you thought my father was one mean son of a bitch in a fight, you haven't seen anything yet."

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  He had to hand it to her, Jett thought with admiration. She sure as hell knew how to hit where it hurt. Just like her old man. She'd been right about that. He should never have forgotten who she was. Never.

  He lifted the glass and took another deep swallow of bourbon, teeth gritted as it burned its way down. Then he picked up the bottle and filled the glass again, ignoring the little whisper of warning in the back reaches of his mind. To hell with it. He was half drunk already, and with any luck he would make it the rest of the way before the bourbon gave out.

  He leaned back in the big easy chair and closed his eyes, head swimming slightly. The house was dark and quiet, and it seemed to echo every sound, oddly empty without her. Funny how he'd gotten used to having her in his life so easily.

  Or had he just made that up, too? He gave a snort of bitter laughter and took another swallow of liquor. He'd been lying to Jody and to her and even to himself for so long that it was hard to tell where truth ended and fabrication began.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe he had taken her to bed with ulterior motives. Maybe the things he thought he felt for her were just part of a desperate lie he'd spun to protect the life he'd built here with Jody. But one damn thing was certain: he wasn't giving Jody up without a fight that would make the Little Big Horn look like a church social.

  If he could find an attorney who would take the job on. He smiled grimly and took another drink. Question: how many lawyers does it take to change a light bulb? Answer: how many can you afford?

  Not enough, probably. And where was he going to find even one willing to go head-to-head with her and Gordon? They had it all on their side: the name, the money, the contacts. They were going to roll over him like Crazy Horse over Custer. And they wouldn't be taking prisoners.

  "Hey, Dad?"

  Jett looked up a little drunkenly as Jody walked into the room. The boy frowned. "What are you sittin' in the dark for?"

  "I like it that way." Jett leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the rag rug between his feet. "You finish welding that stock gate like I told you?"

  "Yeah." Jody circled him cautiously, eyeing the glass in Jett's hand, the half-empty bottle on the floor, his young face tight with concern.

  He was thinking of Pam, Jett knew. Of all those afternoons when he came home from school and found her wrapped around a bottle of bourbon.

  "You, uh, want something to eat? I can make spaghetti."

  Jett's stomach roiled unpleasantly. "No. Got any homework?"

  "It's done. And my chores. They're all done, too."

  Jett nodded, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. Just say it, something whispered at him. Sit him down right now and tell him you've been lying to him all his life. Tell him about Kathy, about her old man, about Pam, about all of it.

  "You, uh, you and Miz Patterson had a fight, huh."

  "A difference of opinion."

  "So she's … not comin' over tonight?"

  Jett swirled the bourbon in the glass, then downed it in one swallow. "No."

  "Then maybe … I, uh, she said she'd help me with this experiment I'm supposed to be doin' for chemistry. Maybe I could go over to her place and—"

  "No!" Jett's voice cut through the room like a whip crack. "I don't want you going over there, you hear? You stay away from Kathleen Patterson and that whole clan of hers."

  Jody's mouth went hard and stubborn. "So just 'cause you and her had a fight, I can't even talk to her?"

  "That's what I'm saying." Jett got to his feet, grabbing the bourbon bottle by the neck and heading for the kitchen. He wasn't making any sense, he knew that, but he had to keep Jody away from her. Had to figure out some way to get through this without hurting the boy. "You just do as I say. And if you're hard up for something to do, the truck could use a good hosing down."

  Jody looked sullen and angry and ready to argue; then he just turned on one boot heel and strode out of the room without a word.

  And Jett, listening to the back door slam almost off its hinges, eyed the bourbon bottle for a speculative moment, then capped it tightly and put it out of temptation's way.

  * * *

  "Kathleen, I think you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life if you go through with this." Gordon handed her a glass. "Drink this. You look like you could use it."

  "I hate bourbon."

  "Then pretend it's something else." He shoved it into her hand. "I can't recommend strongly enough that you give up this idea of taking Jett to court. For one thing, it's entirely possible you'll lose. And for another, even if you win, I'm not sure the victory will be worth it."

  "He has my son!"

  "His son," Gord barked. "You seem to keep forgetting that fact, Kathleen." He walked around to the other side of the desk, looking angry and out of sorts, and gestured at the papers scattered across it. "It's all here. The agreement Dad made him sign, the deal they cut—thirty grand for Jett's Silence. He kept his side of the bargain."

  "That agreement was signed without my knowledge or consent. I never agreed to give Jody up, so how can Jett claim he got sole custody? The whole thing was a fraud!"

  "Look, I'm no fan of Jett Kendrick's—I'd still like to beat the hell out of him for what he did to you sixteen years ago. But the man was as much a victim of our old man as you were."

  "Victim?" Kathleen stared at her brother in disbelief. "Victim? Gordon, that man stole my son!"

  "He thought you gave the boy up for adoption." Gord's voice rose. "He was eighteen, for crying out loud! Little more than a kid himself. As far as he knew, you'd rejected not only him, but the baby, as well." He took a swallow of bourbon. "As far as I'm concerned, Kendrick deserves a medal, not a court battle. He fought tooth-and-nail fifteen years ago to get his son, and he's been a good father to the boy. Give him credit for that, at least, before you go off half-cocked with some idea of—"

  "Jody Kendrick is my son," Kathleen said coldly. "My son." She set the glass down with a bang, and bourbon slopped onto the desk. Once she would have been horrified at the defacement; today she relished it. She wanted to smash the glass. To throw something. Break something. "I can't believe you won't support me in this."

  "I didn't say I wouldn't support you," he said, making an effort to lower his voice. "But I am saying I won't help you drag Kendrick through the courts." He paused, looking at Kathleen steadily. "Have you given any thought to what's best for Jody in this? How he's going to react to a long, bloody custody battle? And it will be long and bloody, Kathleen. Kendrick will fight like a cougar to keep the boy, you can count on that."

  Kathleen drew a deep breath, preparing to launch into an angry rebuttal, then let it out again with a weary sigh, holding the cool glass to her temple. Gord was at least half right, but she was damned if she was going to admit it. Not in this room, with her father's smug portrait looking down on them.

  "Have you talked with the boy? With Jody?" Gord said the name almost awkwardly, as though still having trouble believing.

  "No." Kathleen's voice was hoarse, and she took a sip of the bourbon without thinking. She made a face and set the glass down again, paced to the window, then back to the desk. "I don't even know what to say to him, Gord. I…" She lifted her ar
ms helplessly, then let them drop to her sides. "I'm not even sure I really believe it yet. It's just so … impossible."

  "Sometimes when I look in on Chelsea and Shaun at night, I have to pinch myself to prove it's real. That they're real." Gord smiled. "You've been handed a miracle, Kathy. You're never going to look at things the same way again. You'll see through different eyes. And feel through a different heart."

  Kathleen looked at him in surprise. "Have you turned into a poet while I wasn't looking, Gord?"

  "No. Just a father. And that," he added very quietly, "is why I can't help you take Jett's son away from him."

  * * *

  The next afternoon she was standing on the veranda of Jett's big ranch house, looking at the front door and wondering what in God's name she was doing there. Swallowing, she raised her hand and knocked on the door, praying he wasn't home. It would be easier if he wasn't home.

  To her relief, no one answered. Taking a deep breath, she was starting to turn away just as the door opened. And she found herself standing face-to-face with her son.

  "I … oh." It took her so by surprise that she simply stared at him, her mind going utterly blank. "It's … you."

  He grinned engagingly. "Some kind of teacher convention goin' on, so there ain't no school this week. I'm supposed to be out back helpin' the vet inoculate calves, but I got kicked in the ribs, and Dad said to take a couple of hours off."

  She felt suddenly breathless with concern. Wanted to reach out and touch him, but felt suddenly too shy to do more than just look at him wonderingly. "Are you … are you all right?"

  "Hurts a little, but I'm okay." His grin widened. "Come on in, Miz Patterson. I'll tell Dad you're here."

  Miz Patterson. She blinked. "I—what did you call me?"

  He frowned, as though wondering what he'd done wrong. "I, uh…" He shrugged, obviously nonplussed. "I called you Miz Patterson, ma'am." His young face went all worried.

  He didn't know. Numb with shock, Kathleen fought to drag in a deep breath. She was going to kill Jett. Right here, in this house, this afternoon, as God was her witness, she was going to kill him.