by Sharon Sala
Privately, Royal was a lot less optimistic, but that was just the difference in their personalities, not a lesser belief in the brother who was missing. He loved Ryder as much as Roman did and worried daily about his whereabouts, sometimes even wondering if he was still alive. It had been so long and they hadn’t had a word.
He was down to the next-to-the-last letter in the lot, and he started to toss it in Ryder’s box when he looked at the return address. MasterCard. No big deal. Everyone has credit cards.
And then he realized what he was looking at and took a deep breath as he tore into the flap. When he pulled out the itemized bill, he started to shake. Someone had used Ryder’s card! Over the period of three weeks, someone had charged several hundred dollars’ worth of men’s clothing in Ryder’s name.
Royal was as scared as he’d ever been in his life. Either Ryder was alive and well and buying up a storm, or someone was using his card. The implications of how anyone might come by Ryder’s belongings was more than he could handle alone. He bolted up from the chair and headed for the phone. Moments later, a familiar voice growled in his ear.
“This is Justice Air and The Justice Way. State your business and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Royal groaned. That damned answering machine. When it beeped, he started talking.
“Roman, this is Royal. I just got a letter from—”
“It’s me,” Roman said.
“Well, hell,” Royal said. “Why didn’t you pick up the first time?”
“Wasn’t in the mood to chitchat,” he said shortly.
Royal cursed beneath his breath. That was so typically Roman. “The mail just came.”
Roman snorted indelicately. “Don’t tell me. You just won the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes.”
“Oh, shut the hell up,” Royal muttered. “I’m serious.”
“And I’m busy,” Roman said. “Unless my favorite niece has done something utterly charming that I need to know about, I don’t have time to—”
“Someone charged nearly a thousand dollars on Ryder’s MasterCard. The bill came today.”
Sarcasm was noticeably missing as Roman snapped, “Give me the dates. The store codes, anything that—no, wait! I’ve got a better idea. Fax me a copy of the bill.”
“Oh, hell,” Royal said. “You know I’m not good at making that damned thing work.”
“Then get Maddie to help. She knows how,” Roman said. “And do it now. If Ryder’s alive, I’ll find out soon enough. If someone is using his ID, they’re going to wish they’d never been born.”
“It’s on its way,” Royal said, and hung up the phone.
He turned, staring at the fax machine on the desk near the window, facing the fact that while he knew just about everything there was to know about ranching, the age of computers had him hanging in air. It was humiliating to know that a three-year-old could do what he had yet to accomplish, but this concerned Ryder, and it was no time to get macho about a damned old machine.
He headed for the back door at a fast clip. “Hey, Maddie,” he yelled. “Come help me fax something to Uncle Roman.”
CHAPTER 10
By Labor Day, Miles had become Eudora’s fair-haired boy. Somehow, the fact that he was gainfully employed had become his idea and Casey’s ultimatum had never happened. She couldn’t have cared less who took the credit. His streak of ambition had even rubbed off on Erica. She kept making noises about pursuing a career of her own and spent hours each day pouring over Fortune 500 magazines in search of ideas.
At night when it was time to go to bed, Ryder no longer wandered in and out of the bedroom in various stages of undress. Casey had her bathroom all to herself and began to realize why Ryder had become so upset when she’d moved him out of her life. The routine they’d been in had become normal, even comforting, and it was over. Because of the new bedroom, whatever connection they’d made between themselves was gone. In an odd sort of way, it was like being divorced.
But the awareness between them kept growing. It was there in the way Ryder watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking—and the way his hand lingered on her arm long after the need for keeping her balance had come and gone—even the brief, sibling-like kisses they left on each other’s cheek before saying good-night. They were wanna-be lovers, playing at being friends. And always, in the back of their minds, was the knowledge that the marriage they shared was a farce and the lie they were living was the very wedge that kept them apart.
* * *
It was just past noon when Casey turned off the highway and accelerated up the driveway into the Ruban estate, gunning the engine of her new car and taking the curve in a near skid. She pulled up to the garage and stopped just as Ryder slid out from beneath the Lincoln. His black hair was windblown and the grin on his face was too devil-may-care to ignore. His jeans were oil-slicked, his chest brown and bare. He was wiping his hands on a rag as he headed her way.
“Where’s the fire?”
She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and beg him to crawl back under that car and take her with him, but she couldn’t. At least, not today.
She bolted for the stairs. “I know, I was driving a little too fast, but I’m in a hurry.” She hiked up her skirt and began to run up the steps, two at a time.
“Take off those damned high heels if you’re going to run like that,” Ryder yelled. When she didn’t oblige, he threw down the grease rag. “Hardheaded woman,” he muttered, and followed her inside.
She was in the bedroom. A suitcase was open and she was yanking clothes from a hanger and tossing them on the bed with abandon. Anxiety seized him. She was packing to travel.
“What’s the rush?”
“I’ve got to be in Chicago by morning. I have less than an hour and a half to get packed and get to the airport..” She turned in a helpless circle, then dived back into the bottom of her closet, muttering as shoes came flying out behind her. “I can’t find my black heels.”
Ryder bent down and picked up a pair from the pile in the floor. “Like these?”
She straightened. A smile creased her face as she yanked them from his hands. “Yes! You’re a magician. Thanks a bunch.”
His belly was starting to turn. He kept telling himself it was going to be okay, that the only reason this was bothering him was because the news was so sudden.
“So, what’s in Chicago?”
“Digidyne Industries. We’ve been after them for years. Once before, Delaney had the deal all but done and they backed out. I just got a call that the CEO had a heart attack and died. The heirs are going to put it on the auction block and I want first dibs.”
Ryder started to pace, sidestepping her trips from the closet and back as she packed what she needed to wear. “So, it’s a big deal, huh?”
“Very! I’m lucky that Delaney’s old contact even thought to make the call and let me know. Otherwise, we would have been out in the cold.”
“Yeah, that was lucky all right.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the toes of his boots.
Casey glanced up. “You need to hurry and clean up. We’re going to have to drive like mad to make my plane.” Then she grinned. “However, that should pose no problem for you.” It was a joke within the household that the family chauffeur drove, as Eudora had put it, “Like a bat coming out of hell with its wings on fire.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Ryder said, and walked out.
A few minutes later, Casey burst into his room, her face flushed with energy, her eyes alight with excitement. “I’m ready.”
Ryder walked out of the bathroom, buttoning a clean shirt. He didn’t stop to analyze the wisdom of what he was about to do, he just knew that if he let her get on that damned plane without a piece of his heart, he wouldn’t make it until she got back.
Casey went willingly as he took her in his arms and crushed her against his chest in a smothering embrace.
“Just be careful, okay?”
She laughe
d. “Tell that to the pilot. I’m afraid it’s out of my hands.”
He groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair, crushing the curls and dragging her closer. “Don’t make light of fate, Casey Dee. Sometimes when you’re not looking, it’ll kick you right in the teeth.”
The first thought in Casey’s mind was that he wasn’t kidding. Even more, he seemed panicked about the upcoming flight.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “This happens to me all the time. Year before last, Delaney and I logged over seven thousand miles in the air. Of course we were in Europe three times, but that was an unusual year.”
God, keep her safe, Ryder thought, then he lowered his mouth and drew her close. Casey closed her eyes, yielding. bending to his will and embrace, swept away by the unexpected demands of a kiss that left her breathless and more than a little bit stunned.
When he whispered against her cheek, she opened her eyes. His panic had become contagious.
“I want you back in one piece.”
She shivered. She’d never seen him like this. It was almost as if he were in some kind of pain.
“I’ll certainly do my best,” she said, trying to lighten the moment. She grabbed at the undone buttons on his shirt and started buttoning them up. “I’m sorry to repeat myself, but we’ve got to hurry.”
He tucked in his shirt and picked up her bags. His heart was pounding.
“Go get in the car,” he grumbled. “I’ll make sure you catch that damned plane. But when you get back, we need to talk.”
Casey looked startled. An ultimatum?
She got in the car, watching as he dumped her bags in the trunk and then slid behind the wheel. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. If only they had time to talk now. She looked at her watch. They would be lucky if they made the plane, never mind finishing a conversation.
He only glanced at her once. “Buckle up.”
She’d ridden with him too many times before to doubt the necessity of doing as he’d asked. She did as she was told.
* * *
Casey was the last passenger to get on. She stood in the boarding area with her ticket in hand, waiting for the attendant to give her a boarding pass. Ryder stood beside her, pale-faced and stoic, yet his eyes never left her face. She reached out and touched his hand, wishing their circumstances were different, wishing she could throw herself in his arms and tell him he meant more to her than she could say.
“I’ll call as soon as we land and let you know where I’ll be staying.”
Ryder nodded, trying to maintain his equilibrium, but he felt sick. The high-pitched whine of the jet’s engines vibrated the windows overlooking the runway. In seconds, Casey was going to be up in that sky, and he knew only too well it was a hell of a long way down. He wanted to grab her and shake her until she listened to sense. Ruban Enterprises didn’t need another Fortune 500 business. It was already a gargantuan conglomerate of its own accord. Why acquire more?
But he couldn’t find a way to say what was in his heart. He couldn’t say, I’m afraid I’ll lose you like I lost my father. He couldn’t say, I’m afraid I’ll lose you before we ever make love. He couldn’t say, I love you—because that wasn’t part of the deal.
And then waiting was no longer an option.
“Take care!” Casey shouted, and started running down the gate toward the plane.
Ryder took several steps forward when the attendant grabbed his arm. “Sorry, sir, this is as far as you can go.”
He groaned. God help him, but he’d missed his chance. Just when he’d found a way to say the words without coming apart, she was gone.
He went to the observation deck, watching as the big silver plane started backing out of its slot. His fingers knotted around the rail as it rolled onto the runway. And when liftoff came, sweat was running down the middle of his back and he was praying with every breath. When the plane was no longer in sight, Ryder leaned his forehead against the vast expanse of glass, unaware of the heat against his brow. He closed his eyes, trying to picture her face.
“I love you, Casey.” But when all was said and done, he was a case of too little, too late.
* * *
It was almost sundown when Ryder walked into the apartment. His heart sank as a red blinking light winked at him from across the room. He tossed the car keys on the kitchen counter and pressed the button, waiting for the sound of Casey’s voice.
“Hi, there. Sorry I missed you. I’m staying at the Ritz Carlton. Here is the number.” Ryder jotted it down as she spoke, then settled back to listen to the rest of the message. “The flight was fine, just a little bumpy. I’ll be in meetings all day tomorrow, but I’ll try to call you tomorrow night Take care.” She paused, and Ryder would have sworn he heard her take a deep breath. “Well…anyway…I’ll miss you.”
The machine beeped. The message was over. Casey was gone. He played it over once more just to listen to the sound of her voice, and wished to hell that Dora hadn’t broken a nail. She’d had a fit the size of Dallas and nothing had satisfied her but to make an emergency run to her manicurist to get it fixed. He’d missed Casey’s call because of a broken nail.
The house phone rang. “Now what?” he muttered, and shoved himself out of the chair. Tilly was on the line.
“I’m making pot roast. You come on over here and get yourself some food.”
The last thing he wanted was to eat or to talk. Casey hadn’t been gone four hours and already there was a hole inside of him that food couldn’t fill.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just stick around here for the evening.”
“If you change your mind, you know how to get here.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
He hung up and then headed for the shower. After he cleaned up, maybe he’d watch a little TV, have an early night. After all, he had the whole place to himself. And it was the loneliest feeling he could ever remember.
* * *
By morning, it had started to rain. By the next day, and then the next, it alternated between gray skies and drizzle, with a downpour now and then in between. And as if the rain wasn’t bad enough, a line of heavy thunderstorms was pushing its way into the state and today was the day that Casey was due to come home.
He sat at the window looking out at the rain, ignoring the fact that today he’d already angered Erica and caused Eudora to have to change her plans.
He didn’t give a damn that Erica had a lunch date with a banker to discuss buying a business. He couldn’t have cared less whether or not Dora was going to miss her bridge luncheon. Erica knew how to drive and Dora could take a cab.
Erica argued, then whined, then begged. When she realized that nothing was working, she started in with what she considered simple reasoning. If she drove herself, then there was no way she could keep from having to walk in the rain. At this point, Ryder had heard enough.
“Where are you meeting the banker for lunch?” he asked.
She sniffed. “The Tea Room.”
“Take an umbrella, and use their valet parking.”
Erica knew when she’d been had. She rolled her eyes and flounced out of the library, muttering beneath her breath about hardheaded men who did not know their place.
Eudora patted her hair and straightened her belt. She was certain that the rapport she’d developed with this man would bring him around.
“Ryder, dear, it’s Evadine Nelson’s turn to play hostess for the bridge club. She lives right at the edge of town, remember? Hers is that big white house with the portico that I so admire.”
“Yes, ma’am, I remember the house,” Ryder said.
Eudora beamed. “Then you won’t mind just dropping me off. It won’t take more than half an hour either way. If Delaney hadn’t insisted on building this place out in the middle of nowhere, we wouldn’t be so isolated.”
Ryder shook his head. “Dora, you weren’t listening to me. I’m not budging until Casey calls. Dammit, look outside. There’s a storm due in within hours. Chances are, h
er plane will be delayed, or the pilot will wind up trying to outrun it. Either way, I want to know what the hell is going on. I’ll call a cab for you, but I’m not playing chauffeur today and that’s that.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, things have been upside down ever since-Casey brought you into this family. You’re supposed to be the chauffeur. Chauffeurs are supposed to do as they’re told.” She tried to glare.
“So fire me,” he said, and kissed her cheek, which brought a smile to her eyes that she just couldn’t hide. “Go on with you then,” she spluttered. “Go sit and wait for that phone call.” She walked away, mumbling beneath her breath. “Land sakes, what will Evadine say? Me coming to her door in a cab, like some commoner.”
Ryder followed her out the door. “Dora, you are a fine lady, but you are not the Queen Mother. Taking a cab now and then is good for the soul.”
Eudora pivoted, giving him a cool, pointed stare. “I declare,” she said, about to give him a piece of her mind, but Ryder didn’t wait around to listen.
He ran from the main house all the way across the courtyard, then up the stairs just ahead of a cool gust of wind. Pausing at the landing, he looked up at the sky, judging the dark, angry swirl of clouds overhead. Today was not a good day to fly.
As soon as he entered the apartment, he turned on the television and flipped to a local station he knew would be broadcasting weather bulletins all day. With the phone at his side, he sat down to wait for her call.
A half hour went by. By this time he was pacing the floor. She’d promised to call before she left. She wasn’t the kind of person who’d break a promise.
“A line of severe thunderstorms is blanketing the state,” the TV announcer stated.
He turned toward the television, picked up the remote and upped the volume.
“Wind velocities have been measured at fifty to sixty miles per hour with gusts up to seventy and eighty. Authorities advise staying off of the roads and avoiding low-lying areas that are prone to flooding.”