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Circumstantial Memories

Page 19

by Carol Ericson


  Julia kneeled beside Shelby, hunching over her body, shielding her from Jeremy’s gun.

  Ryder seized the opportunity with both hands and hurled himself over the edge. He dropped on top of Jeremy.

  Jeremy grunted and squeezed off a shot, the bullet leaving a trail of heat as it zinged past Ryder’s thigh. As he planted a knee on Jeremy’s chest, Ryder yelled at Julia, “Get Shelby out of here.”

  Julia gathered Shelby in her arms, her eyes never leaving the two men grappling on the floor of the cave. She didn’t want to leave Ryder with this madman, but she had to find a safe place for Shelby first. She’d come back to help Ryder.

  As Julia stumbled through the cave, heading toward the light, Shelby stirred and yawned. Another shot rang out and she sobbed and tripped. A voice echoed in the cave behind her, “Julia.”

  A chill flashed up her spine. The same voice that haunted her dreams. The same voice that spun out from the leaping flames in Arizona.

  Gripping Shelby tighter, Julia burst from the cave and fell to the ground, a sharp pain lancing her ankle. Seconds later, Jeremy stumbled out after her, the gun dangling from his fingers.

  Panic, like a wildfire, raced through her body, leaving her light-headed. Ryder. Jeremy shot Ryder in the cave. She howled, the sound gathering in her belly and filling the mountain air with its raw anguish.

  Jeremy stopped in his tracks, his lips curling into a smile. He raised both arms to her, the snake on his forearm flexing grotesquely.

  Ryder charged out of the mouth of the cave, running straight at Jeremy. Ryder tackled him and they skidded across the dirt, rolling to the edge of the cliff. The force of the hit had jarred the gun from Jeremy’s hand and it flew to the side of the grappling bodies.

  “Stay here. Don’t move.” Julia tucked a wide-eyed Shelby into a cubby hole at the cave’s entrance. Then she retrieved the gun. With trembling hands, she pointed the weapon at Ryder and Jeremy locked in a life-and-death struggle at the edge of the precipice.

  “Jeremy, I have your gun.”

  Both men looked up in mid-punch and then Ryder shoved away from Jeremy, wiping the back of his hand across his bleeding mouth. “Looks like the game is over, Jeremy. You lose.”

  “You know how much I hate losing, Ryder.” Jeremy cracked a smile then rolled off the edge of the cliff.

  Epilogue

  Julia traced her fingertip along Jeremy’s face, safely captured in a photo and neatly tucked behind the clear plastic sheet in the photo album. Handsome, charming, adventurous—just the tonic she’d needed after Dad’s death.

  Sighing, she snapped the cover shut and strolled to her mother’s balcony. She planted her elbows on the wrought-iron railing entwined with purple wisteria and gazed at the busy Paris boulevard below.

  When she arrived in Paris, Julia had waited for the warm, comforting blanket of home to engulf her. Mom, sobered by Julia’s experience with amnesia, welcomed her back with open arms and an open heart. Mom dived into her role as grandmère with the gusto she usually reserved for Paris fashion week.

  Despite her mother’s effusive efforts, Julia still didn’t feel as if she belonged here…because she belonged with Ryder.

  During their struggle in the cave, Jeremy had shot Ryder in the shoulder. Julia wanted to cancel her trip to Paris and stay with Ryder, but he’d insisted she go and take Shelby with her. Was he pushing her out of his life again, pushing his daughter away?

  Before Julia left for Paris, Rod pulled her aside and explained to her how much Ryder feared following the bad example set by his parents. How he’d tried to saddle himself with all the blame to avoid admitting his mother never cared for motherhood.

  Rod had shrugged his broad shoulders. “He’s afraid to be a father. He’s afraid to be a husband.”

  She’d tried to talk to Ryder about it, but she didn’t want to push him. She didn’t want to coerce him into accepting the role of father if he didn’t want it.

  She sauntered back into the room, picked up a sofa cushion, and then tossed it aside. With hands on her hips, she surveyed the cheerful room feeling anything but.

  The front door of her mother’s flat creaked open and Shelby peered around the edge, a perky hat perched on her head at a jaunty, if precarious, angle.

  Julia smiled. Her mother had taken her tomboy granddaughter shopping. Boy would she be disappointed when she found that frothy bit of confection floating upside down in a fountain or doubling as a collection basket for rocks.

  “Are you back already?”

  “I have a surprise.” Shelby’s curls quivered in excitement as her bright blue eyes danced.

  Julia held her breath. She hoped the surprise didn’t consist of a muddied kiddy haute couture frock. She didn’t want her mother to catch on too quickly that Julia had failed miserably at raising a girly girl.

  Shelby shoved the door open to reveal a tall, rangy cowboy, sans hat and boots, filling the doorway of her mother’s flat. Julia expelled her breath with a sound that ended halfway between a gurgle and a gasp.

  “It’s Daddy. We found him outside.” Shelby placed her hands on the backs of Ryder’s thighs and pushed.

  “Ladies shouldn’t be pushy, Shelby.” Julia’s mother popped up behind Shelby and grabbed her hand. “Come, give your maman and papa time together. Then we can all go out as a family later.”

  Julia swallowed the lump in her throat as Ryder tousled Shelby’s hair, his large hand covering the top of her head.

  “I have some things to show you and places to take you that I’m sure your grandmère doesn’t even know about.”

  Mom arched a perfect eyebrow. “You’re not in Colorado now, Ryder. This little girl needs some civilization, some polish.”

  Ryder’s laugh filled Mom’s exquisitely furnished apartments, almost causing the delicate table in the foyer to tremble. “Give it your best shot, Celeste, but Shelby’s a Colorado cowgirl. Knew it the minute I spied her on Silverhill’s main street.”

  Julia’s mother sent a conspiratorial wink Julia’s way before bustling a protesting Shelby, hat and all, down the hallway.

  Left alone with Ryder, Julia twisted her hands in front of her although she couldn’t pinpoint the source of her nervousness. He came after her, didn’t he? Or maybe he just came for Shelby. She dug her heels into Mom’s shiny hardwood floor.

  “You’re awfully quiet.”

  She tilted her chin. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “Good as new, except for the bandage.” He patted a bulky lump beneath his shirt. “How’s Paris?”

  Lifting her shoulders, she spread her arms. “It’s Paris. What’s not to like?”

  Actually, she could think of lots of things. First, it wasn’t Colorado and second it didn’t contain Ryder…until now.

  Before she could form the next inane question, Ryder devoured the distance between them in two quick strides and possessed her lips in a fiery, impatient kiss that answered all her questions and settled all her doubts.

  When she could breathe and think straight, she whispered against his mouth, “You came for me.”

  “I always intended to come for you…and our daughter.” He cupped her face in his hands, running the pad of his thumb along her throbbing lower lip. “When I confronted the fear of losing you and Shelby in that cave, I knew I’d do everything in my power to protect my family. Even if I failed, I’d die trying.”

  “You’re not going to fail.” She kissed that distracting thumb. “You’ve already given us so much. You gave my life back to me.”

  “And you’ve given my life back to me. I resigned from Black Cobra. After all, a married man with a family can’t go chasing around the world, running from his fears.”

  Julia rested her cheek against Ryder’s chest, his pounding heart, sure and strong, reverberating through her soul. She felt right at home in his arms and she knew exactly who she was.

  She was Julia Rousseau, soon to be Julia McClintock.

  And she was loved.

  ISBN:
978-1-4268-2806-5

  CIRCUMSTANTIAL MEMORIES

  Copyright © 2009 by Carol Ericson

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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