by Rita Herron
“Maybe he hired someone to do his dirty work and took a trip to give himself an alibi.”
“That’s possible. Although, if someone intentionally jammed that lock, we’re talking attempted murder.” Brody removed his hat and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Anyway, I’ll fill the sheriff in and let him handle the investigation.”
Johnny shifted, his thoughts jumbled. He’d held too much back from Brody. This incident was too serious to ignore. “There’s another possibility.”
Brody angled his head toward Johnny. “What?”
“One of our hands named Burgess assaulted Rachel in the stables.”
Anger blazed in Brody’s eyes. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Rachel asked me not to,” Johnny said. “She…said she just wanted to forget it. So I fired him, then let him go with a warning.”
Brody folded his arms, his jaw hardening. “What’s going on, Johnny? One of our employees attacks a woman and you don’t call the cops or report it to me?”
“It was a bad judgment call,” he said. “Besides, you’ve been worried about publicity and I was trying to respect Rachel’s privacy.”
“So you think this guy was pissed, and he could have come back for revenge?”
Johnny nodded.
“We need to give his name to the sheriff.”
“I know,” Johnny said. “Do you think we should postpone the rodeo?”
“No.” Brody’s tone was emphatic. “We’re not going to let anyone destroy our operation. I’ll hire extra security for the next few days.”
“That might not be a bad idea, at least until we figure out who’s behind all this.”
Brody nodded. “Under the circumstances, Johnny, you’d better keep an eye on Rachel and her son. If Burgess was responsible for the fire, he might try something else.”
Johnny heaved a weary breath, contemplating whether to divulge his suspicions about Rachel’s past, but decided he’d wait until he heard from the P.I.
No sense alarming Brody until he had more information in hand.
A car engine rumbled down the hill, and the sheriff’s squad car flew down the drive, then he parked and climbed out. Johnny headed toward the ambulance where the medics were examining Rachel and Kenny. He didn’t like dealing with the law himself, not after that fiasco with Gwen.
But this time, Rachel had to talk to the sheriff.
A strained look tightened her face, and she wrapped a protective arm around Kenny.
Johnny’s boots crunched pebbles and grass as he cut across the path. Rachel might be scared. But what if other boys or staff had been inside the dining hall?
If she knew who’d set that fire, she had to speak up.
RACHEL FELT THE WALLS closing in around her. Someone had almost killed her and Kenny tonight. And now the sheriff had shown up and was making a beeline for her.
She had to cooperate and talk to him or raise suspicion. Then she had to leave the BBL.
Pain wrenched her heart. Kenny would be heartbroken….
God, she didn’t want to face the police. Not with the guilt and lies choking her.
But Brody and the sheriff were near, and she couldn’t run. The men reached her at the same time, and she shoved hair from her face and inhaled a calming breath.
Johnny glanced at the medics. “How’re they doing?”
“Okay,” one of the medics said. “The boy inhaled some smoke, but he seems fine now. His lungs sound good, and there are no cuts or burns.”
“Good,” Brody said. “But Rachel, it looks like the fire was intentionally set. Sheriff McRae needs to ask you some questions.”
Rachel nodded, her worst fears confirmed. Someone had intentionally set the fire…with her and Kenny trapped inside. Was it Rex?
Johnny squeezed her arm. “I told Brody about Burgess.”
Pure panic seized Rachel. He’d promised—
The sheriff stepped in front of her, cutting off their conversation.
“I need you to tell me what happened,” the sheriff said.
Rachel clutched the blanket the medics had given her around her shoulders. “I already told Johnny. Kenny and I were in the pantry stocking shelves when I smelled smoke.”
“We couldn’t open the door,” Kenny piped in. “We shoved and pushed and Mommy tried to use a can opener to pry it open, but it wouldn’t move.”
“Did you close it yourself?” Sheriff McRae asked.
Rachel shook her head no. “We left it cracked, but when Ms. Ellen, the main cook, left, it swung shut. I figured it was the wind and didn’t think anything about it. Not until we smelled smoke.”
Sheriff McRae nodded, and Rachel barely resisted the urge to squirm beneath the scrutiny of all three men.
“You didn’t hear anyone else inside?”
She shook her head, and he glanced at Kenny. “How about you, sport?”
Kenny clutched the water bottle Johnny had given him. “No, not till Mr. J. came and saved us.”
Sheriff McRae turned a questioning look toward Johnny. “How did you know they were inside?”
“I didn’t, not at first,” Johnny said. “I was driving by when I saw smoke, so I stopped and ran inside. Then I heard Rachel and Kenny banging on the door and shouting for help.”
Sheriff McRae folded his arms. “Ms. Simmons, can you think of anyone who’d want to hurt you?”
Rachel’s pulse clamored. Just her ex-husband, the man who had promised to love, honor and cherish her. But if she revealed Rex’s name, her freedom would be over.
So she clutched the blanket tighter. “No. Are you sure it wasn’t faulty wiring?”
“I’m sure. We discovered an accelerant,” Sheriff McRae said.
Brody cleared his throat. “What about the man who attacked you in the stables?”
Rachel shivered and gave a quick glance toward Kenny. She hadn’t told Kenny and hated that Johnny had broken her confidence.
Johnny seemed to understand her concern for her son, and leaned over to Kenny.
“Hang tight, bud. We’ll be right back.”
He placed his hand on her back for support, and Rachel, Johnny, Brody and the sheriff walked a few feet away from Kenny.
“What attack?” Sheriff McRae asked.
Johnny quickly filled him in.
“Why didn’t you report him, Rachel?” Brody asked.
Rachel struggled for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to upset Kenny. Besides, I thought it was a one-time thing. The man smelled like he’d been drinking, so I just assumed he got carried away. I wasn’t hurt, so no harm was done.”
“What happened next?” Sheriff McRae asked.
“I fired him and gave him a warning,” Johnny said.
The sheriff shifted, seemingly contemplating the situation and Johnny’s response. “I’ll need his background information, address, et cetera,” the sheriff said.
Johnny gave Rachel’s arm an encouraging squeeze. “I’ll email it to you.”
Brody made a clicking sound with his teeth. “You should also check out our neighbor Rich Copeland.”
The sheriff turned to Brody with a raised brow, and Brody explained Copeland’s attempts to dissuade them from opening the ranch.
The sheriff scribbled his name in his notepad. “I’ll definitely look into him.”
A weariness settled over Rachel. “Can I take Kenny home now? He’s exhausted.”
The sheriff nodded. “Sure. But if you think of anything else, ma’am, please give me a call.”
Rachel’s heart thudded with fear, but she agreed.
“I’ll walk them home.” Johnny gestured for her to lead the way, then he followed and picked Kenny up and carried him back to the cabin.
Kenny nuzzled against him, his eyes heavy.
Johnny patted his back. “In the morning, counselors are going to teach you how to tie ropes for the calf roping competition.”
Kenny sighed sleepily but rallied with a smile. “Then I’ll be a real cowboy?”
>
“Yes, buddy,” Johnny said hugging him. “Then you’ll be a real cowboy.”
The hope in Kenny’s tone only deepened Rachel’s turmoil over the possibility of leaving.
They reached the cabin, and she climbed the steps, a sense of sadness overcoming her at the sight of the bird feeders and wind chimes hanging from the porch. The ranch felt like home.
Johnny took the key and unlocked the door, and fatigue pulled at Rachel. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget what had happened in the dining hall. Forget about that man Burgess and Rex.
Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away and ushered Kenny inside.
“Let’s take a quick bath to wash off that smoky odor,” Rachel said. “Then it’s bedtime.”
Kenny nodded and he hurried into the bathroom. He liked his privacy now, so she and Johnny left him to wash up.
“Why don’t you clean up, too,” Johnny said as they stepped into the hall. “I’ll wait out here.”
“That’s not necessary,” Rachel said. “We’re fine now. You can go.”
He stroked her arm, his voice low, soothing. “I’m not leaving you tonight.”
Johnny’s gaze drifted down to her mouth, and her lips tingled as memories of that kiss flashed in her head.
She wanted to kiss him again. To have him hold her and make her forget that she and Kenny had almost died.
But she couldn’t. So she left him to make sure Kenny was out of the bath and tucked into bed before she took a shower.
And as much as she wanted Johnny to join her, she would do it alone.
JOHNNY LISTENED TO RACHEL tuck Kenny into bed, then heard the shower running and groaned as he imagined Rachel stripping and climbing beneath the spray of water. She was only a room away, naked, wet, so beautiful.
Yet she was scared and still harboring secrets.
He wanted to push her for more answers. But God help him, he also wanted to join her. To taste her lips again and erase the terror that had gripped him when he’d realized she was trapped in that burning building.
He paced the cabin, struggling to maintain control. Finally, the water kicked off, and he imagined her slipping on some sexy pajamas.
A few minutes later, she stepped into the den. Her hair lay across her shoulders in exotic waves, making his fingers itch to touch the silky strands. The scent of her body wash floated to him, a soft sensual fragrance that stirred his desires.
Then need darkened her eyes, and Johnny was lost.
“God, Rachel…” He strode toward her and wrapped his fingers around her arms. “Talk to me. Please.”
“I don’t want to talk,” she said softly.
Johnny searched her face. He’d fallen for the wrong woman once before and been burned badly.
And Rachel was keeping secrets.
But his reservations faded when hunger echoed in her soft husky sigh.
He licked his lips. “What do you want, Rachel?”
Her chest rose and fell with a strained breath. “I want you to kiss me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Johnny knew he should resist Rachel, but her admission aroused every male need in his body. The aching hunger he’d felt ever since that first kiss had been hammering away at his self-control for days.
Knowing she wanted him, that she needed him, ignited a fire in his belly.
“Rachel—”
She shushed him by placing a finger over his lips. His heart drummed in his chest. His breath quickened.
Images of her terrified face when he’d opened that pantry door flashed in his mind. She could have died, and he would have lost the opportunity to kiss her again.
Passion drove him to lift her finger from his lips and kiss it gently. Then he sucked on her fingertip, mesmerized at the sharp flash of pleasure that lit her eyes.
He wanted to give her more pleasure. To watch her smile and writhe beneath him, to have those legs wrapped around his waist while he pumped inside her, to hear her whisper his name as she came in a mind-numbing climax.
But remembering she was skittish, he moved slowly, tucked a strand of her damp hair behind one delicate ear, then cupped her face between his hands and planted his mouth over hers. The kiss started out gentle, but need and hunger engulfed him, and he teased her lips apart, then plunged his tongue inside.
Her low, throaty moan spurred him on, and he deepened the kiss, his sex hardening as she slipped off his Stetson, tossed it to the chair by the fireplace, then threaded her fingers into his hair. One hand snaked down to untie the belt of her robe and it fell open, exposing the soft pajamas she wore beneath.
He wanted her naked. With nothing between them but skin and sweat and passion.
Trailing kisses along her throat and jaw, he unbuttoned the top button of the pajama top, parting the fabric to reveal her bare breasts. The dark tips of her nipples stiffened beneath his perusal, making his mouth water for a taste.
“Johnny…”
His fingers brushed lovingly over one turgid peak and he glanced up through a haze of desire. Her eyes looked glazed with need, as well, and her fingers stroked his hair from his forehead in a feminine gesture that spiked his blood.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled her up against him and closed his mouth over one nipple. She moaned and leaned into him, throwing her head back in submission, and he suckled her, laving one breast, then the other until her legs buckled.
He caught her around the waist, his breathing raspy as he walked her backward toward the sofa. She clung to him, rubbing herself against him as he lowered her to the cushions. Then she dragged his face toward her and kissed him, deep, bold, intense, as if she was as starved for him as he was for her.
Johnny had had his share of lovers, teenagers when he was younger, rodeo groupies in his twenties, but never anyone he cared about.
Rachel was different. Her touch triggered emotions he’d never felt before. He didn’t just want sex with Rachel.
He wanted to make love to her.
His throat convulsed. Where had that thought come from?
Johnny Long had never made love to any woman. And the last one he’d had sex with had screwed him, both literally and figuratively.
But this was Rachel, not Gwen.
Still, Rachel was keeping secrets from him….
Then she raked her foot along his leg and he forgot about secrets and questions and doubts, and savored the feel of her skin against his and the sultry way she undulated beneath him.
He stroked her crotch with his sex, his breathing ragged as his erection thickened to a painful ache, then he inched his hands down to strip her pajama pants. One inch, two, he imagined her elation as he parted her legs and tasted her sweetness, but his fingers brushed over a puckered scar above her hipbone, and she tensed.
Johnny lowered the waistband, wanting to see more, needing to know how she’d gotten that scar, but she grabbed his shoulders and pushed at him.
“Stop, Johnny…stop.”
He froze, then glanced into her eyes and saw fear, and his stomach knotted.
Their gazes locked as he eased his body away from her. A charged tension rippled between them, and he feasted on her beautiful heavy breasts, the tips pink from his loving. He wanted to touch her again, to take her back to that moment when they’d both been drugged with pleasure.
But the pain in her eyes sobered him.
“Who hurt you, Rachel?”
Her breath caught, and she shook her head in denial, then hastily began buttoning her pajamas. Her fingers were shaking, and he reached out to help her, but she paced to the fireplace, and turned her back to him. “Please, Johnny, just go.”
“No.”
She whirled around, panic and anger flashing in her expression. She reminded him of a wounded animal caught in a trap.
But he refused to leave tonight. He wanted her to talk to him.
And even if she didn’t, she might be in danger. He’d stay with her around the clock.
If someone tr
ied to hurt her, they’d have to go through him first.
RACHEL SHOULD NEVER have let Johnny get so close. And she shouldn’t have allowed him to touch her.
But she had craved his comfort and his kiss.
Only the moment he’d seen that scar, her fight-and-flee instincts had kicked in, and she’d tensed.
“Rachel?” Johnny said in a husky whisper. “Tell me who it was.”
She squared her shoulders. “I can’t discuss my past.”
Frustration lined Johnny’s face. “Dammit, I’m trying to help you, to protect you.” Johnny folded his arms, then lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Now tell me. Was it your boyfriend? Lover? Husband?”
Her throat clogged with emotions. She wanted to trust him so badly that tears burned her eyes. She was so tired of being alone. Of running. Of never leaning on anyone.
She wanted to lean on him. “My ex.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Kenny’s father?”
A brief nod was all she could manage.
His dark eyes probed her. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know,” Rachel said honestly. “The last time I saw him was in Phoenix.”
“When was that?”
Rachel’s pulse throbbed. “A couple of weeks ago.”
A long tense second passed. “You’ve been moving around to keep him from finding you?”
Pain wrenched her heart. “Yes.”
Another heartbeat of silence. This one so intense that Rachel feared she’d made a mistake and confess the truth. At least the portion of it she was willing to share.
Johnny’s gaze moved over her, reminding her that they’d been nearly naked only moments before and that she still wanted him.
And she hadn’t wanted a man since Rex.
Johnny cleared his throat. “Do you think your ex set that fire tonight?”
Rachel mentally debated the question just as she had ever since she and Kenny had gotten trapped in the pantry. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Her throat felt tight. “But I don’t think he would hurt Kenny. He keeps saying that he wants his son.”
“But you don’t want him to be with Kenny because he’s violent?”
“He never hit Kenny,” she whispered, not in defense of the man, but because she would have killed him herself if he had. “But he liked control, and I refused to let my son be raised in an abusive environment, verbal or physical.”