“They were probably scared spitless they’d lose you.”
“That’s ridiculous. They’re the only parents I’ve ever known.”
“Easy for you to say,” he mocked gently. “You’ve never adopted a kid. It can be pretty damn scary. What if Bets grows up and says she’s sorry her mom gave her to me. You know how much that would hurt?”
“It’s not going to happen, Reed. You’re wonderful with—”
“Ask her if she feels that way the first time I have to ground her because she stayed out past curfew with some pimply faced kid who gave her a hickey.”
Admittedly, that conjured up an image Ann would love to see—not that she would wish trouble on Reed and his daughter. She just wasn’t sure she had much chance of sticking around that long.
“Adopting a kid is like walking a tightrope, sugar. I guess all parents make mistakes, but they can be real biggies if the kid is only on loan to you.”
“How come you’re suddenly such a big defender of my parents? Particularly my father?”
Reed pulled her closer, all but forcing her to rest her head on his shoulder. She didn’t resist. In the midst of her turmoil, he seemed like a safe haven, an anchor in her turbulent sea of emotions. His strength of character—often disguised behind a rebellious swagger—was one of the reasons she loved him.
“I don’t like to see you going off half—cocked.”
“I’m not doing that,” she protested. “I’m shocked, is all. Anyone would be.”
“And thinking only about yourself.”
She frowned. That cut a little too close to the bone.
“Has it occurred to you that somewhere out there, based on what we now know, you probably have an identical twin sister?”
“Who lives on welfare and passes bad checks in her spare time,” Ann said with distaste. At least she had never stooped that low, even during those difficult days after she’d run off with her adolescent boyfriend.
“And who maybe wasn’t adopted by a family who loved her enough to take her back when she made a mistake.”
That brought Ann up short. She decided Reed had a merciless talent for making people face the truth about themselves and others, whether they wanted to or not. While she might not particularly appreciate his wisdom at the moment, she had to admit he’d made a good point. She did, apparently, have a sister. During her childhood she’d envied the girls with sisters. For most of them there’d been a special bond of closeness that went beyond friendship. As an only child, she’d never known that.
“Of course,” Reed added, “your twin is probably a lot cuter than you are.”
Her head reared up. “How can you say that? If we’re identical, we’d look just the same.”
“On second thought, you’re probably feistier.”
She jabbed him in the ribs, and laughing, he flinched. “Reed Drummond, I’m going to get you for that.”
“I certainly hope so.” He captured her face between his big hands, pulling her to him for a kiss that was deep and hot and made her feel needy for more.
“Nobody could be feistier than you, sweet sugar,” he said as he rolled her onto her back and began the slow, sensual lovemaking that she hungered for.
It wasn’t long before the revelations of the day drifted from Ann’s mind. In Reed’s arms, all she could think about was him—the feel of his hands caressing her intimately, the stroke of his tongue in private places, and the way her heart would always belong to her sweet, gentle rogue cowboy.
HER FATHER SHOWED UP at the ranch early the next day. Reed was in the barn checking Fiero, and Ann had just fed Bets her morning bottle.
Though Ann didn’t quite know what she’d say to her father, she knew she couldn’t put off this longoverdue conversation. There were several subjects that needed to be explored—and explained.
Lifting Bets to her shoulder and picking up a light blanket to protect her from the cool morning air, Ann went outside to meet her father. He stopped at the foot of the porch steps.
“Hello, Daddy.”
“Your mother says I’m in big trouble with you.”
“I’m disappointed in you both. And hurt.”
Dressed in khaki work pants and an old flannel shirt he liked to wear around the house, her father looked every bit of his seventy—some years. Somehow Ann hadn’t noticed how quickly he was aging. Now her heart constricted at the thought of losing him. In spite of his bluster and domineering ways, he had been a solid influence in her life.
In an uncharacteristic show of remorse and uncertainty, he studied the tips of his old tennis shoes. “I’m sorry, angel. I wanted to be your father so badly, I thought if I never admitted you were adopted then there’d be no chance that I could lose you.”
“Oh, Daddy…” Tears sprang to her eyes, and she went down the steps to hug him. His cheeks glistened damply by the time she reached him, and they held on to each other tightly.
He nearly squished both Ann and Bets in a desperate embrace. “Well, let’s see this baby you’ve got.”
Smiling at his gruffness, Ann lifted the blanket and turned so he could admire Bets.
“Tiny little thing, isn’t she?” he commented with typical masculine understatement.
From the barn, Ann saw Reed marching with determined strides in her direction. She smiled slightly. He was quite a sight, a rugged cowboy hell—bent to rescue her—or his daughter. “Daddy, I want you and Reed to be friends.”
He sputtered. “I don’t know why you married that boy. If you ask me—”
“You don’t get a vote.” And at the moment, her vote and Reed’s were tied about how long this marriage would last.
Her father gave her a belligerent look. “All I ever wanted was what’s best for you.”
“Fine. Then you’ll see to it Reed’s line of credit is extended again.”
“Is that the price I have to pay to gain your forgiveness?”
“It’s the right thing to do, and you know it, because you’re the one who taught me everyone deserves a second chance. That ought to include my husband.”
His face turned the shade of a vermilion sunset as Reed reached the house.
“What’s happening?” His expression hardedged, Reed looped his arm protectively around Ann’s shoulders.
“My father was just explaining how the bank’s loan officer made a mistake when he canceled your line of credit. As soon as he can get into town, Dad is going to make sure things are straightened out.”
“I’m not looking for charity, Mr. Forrester. If the bank doesn’t want to make the loan, I’ll find another way to make a go of the ranch.”
“Not necessary, young man.” With grim determination, her father glanced around at the house and the barn. “Now that I see the place, it’s in better shape than I remembered. I’m sure Roger Clarke will be willing to reconsider his earlier decision.”
“And if I don’t want the bank’s money?”
Ann elbowed Reed in the ribs. Lord save her from men who’d sooner have pride than porridge to fill their empty bellies. “Reed will appreciate anything you can do, Daddy.”
“Yes, well…” Looking ill at ease, her father slid his hands in his pants pockets. “Now that we got that settled, what are you planning to do about this arrest nonsense? I’ve tried talking to Fuentes but he won’t listen.”
Bets started to fuss, and Reed took the baby from Ann. “We’re going to track down Ann’s twin,” he said.
“We are?” This was the first time he’d mentioned his plan to Ann, though it made sense. If she hadn’t been so upset she would have thought of it herself. But how could they find her if the police had failed?
Her dad scowled. “That attorney your mother and I used never mentioned a twin.”
“There’s no other logical explanation for this mix—up, so that means she’s out there somewhere,” Reed insisted. “Finding her is the only way to clear Ann’s name and get this mess straightened out with both the police and the adoption people.”
Ann appreciated Reed’s determination. She’d like it even more if his resolve hadn’t been motivated by his need for a wife with a spotless reputation. Her chest tightened. Despite all of her efforts, she’d made little impact on his heart.
“I’ll hire a private detective,” Richard said. “It shouldn’t be all that difficult to find the woman.”
“And her son,” Ann added.
Reed’s expression was less defensive now as he studied her father than it had been earlier. “Why don’t you let me give it a shot first? Keeping this whole thing unofficial may open some doors.”
With obvious reluctance, Richard Forrester agreed to Reed’s plan. He might not trust Reed but he was trying to give him a second chance. That small step forward pleased Ann.
After her father left, Reed said, “Since I’m going to get my line of credit back, that means you can cancel the second mortgage you took on your house.”
“There’s no rush. You can use what you need to upgrade your equipment or buy more—”
“I told you before, I need to do this on my own. That’s why I had you sign the prenuptial. If you don’t talk to the bank, I will.”
“Fine!” In frustration, she spat out the word. “If you don’t want my help, so be it. But I’m your wife, damn it! And as long as I am, we’re in this business together. You help me clear my name and I help you with the ranch. You can use my money or not. I don’t care. When we call it quits, and only then, I’ll talk to the bank. You got it?”
He scowled at her but didn’t offer any argument. Ann didn’t fool herself. She guessed they’d only reached a temporary truce, one that would last until they’d resolved all the other issues that were preventing Reed from adopting Betina. And loving Ann.
THAT AFTERNOON they left Bets with Ann’s mother again and drove into San Luis Obispo.
Ann shuddered as they parked in front of a row of apartments in the poorest section of town, the address given on Jodie Sutherland’s bogus checks. The six buildings were two—story boxes housing six apartments each. The paint was peeling, the stucco chipped. An occasional cracked window added to the general atmosphere of despair. A broken tricycle, cardboard boxes and an old tire were scattered about what used to be a postage—stamp—sized piece of grass that had long since reverted to weeds and cracked soil. A permanent Vacancy sign was stuck in the ground.
She slid out of the truck and gazed up at a secondfloor window where the drapes hung in tatters. “How could anyone live here?”
Reed joined her on the sidewalk. “Makes you count your blessings, huh? And you can bet a kid like Jason has lived in worse.”
Either Ann’s twin was very much down on her luck or she had problems Ann didn’t even want to contemplate. If they managed to find her, Jodie Sutherland’s difficulties would be compounded by the bad checks she’d passed. For an instant, Ann felt a surge of sympathy for the stranger to whom she was very likely linked by blood.
On the other hand, it wasn’t fair that Ann should take the blame for something her sister had done, particularly when it had cost her the job she loved and might cause Reed to lose Bets.
“Let’s see if we can nose around, ask some questions,” Reed said.
“I thought the police already investigated—”
“Folks in a place like this don’t much like to talk to cops. Or private detectives. We might be able to do better.”
After they’d knocked at a dozen doors and managed to leave their names at only a couple of apartments, Ann blew out a sigh. “This isn’t going to work.”
“You give up too easy, sugar. Somebody around here knows where Jodie’s gone. Sooner or later she’ll get the word we’re looking for her.”
But would she care? Ann wondered.
Eventually they covered the entire apartment complex, talking to anyone who would answer the door. One or two people looked as if they recognized Ann—or rather, momentarily mistook her for her twin. But they were close—mouthed about what they knew.
By the time they got back to the ranch, Ann was exhausted from the strain and ready for a hot soak in the tub. Relieving her mother of baby-sitting duties and sending her home, Ann decided to take advantage of a few moments’ quiet to relax while Bets was napping. That’s when she saw an ominous brown envelope on the kitchen table, so officiallooking it gave her the shivers.
“Reed, there’s a letter for you. From the Department of Adoptions.”
Reed came out of the bedroom. He’d been changing into his work clothes and something in Ann’s tone alerted him to trouble. Giving her a fleeting glance, he took the envelope and ripped it open.
Report on Adoption Petition
Minor child: Betina Shoemaker
Applicant Family: Reed and Ann Drummond
Caseworker: Clarisa Fipp, MSW
Reed scanned the bureaucratic gobbledygook, his stomach knotting on pap like “psychological profile,” “family stability” and “future outcomes.” No social worker had ever given spit about Reed when his old man was beating the hell out of him. Now, when it was too damn late to do anything but make trouble, some do—gooding social worker was sticking her nose into his business.
When he got to the recommendation section, he swore low and very succinctly.
“Reed?”
He slammed the report onto the table. “Damn it! They can’t take her away from me.”
“What does it say, Reed?”
“That damn woman is recommending Betina be removed from the household until such time as the criminal charges against you are resolved.”
“Dear God…” Her eyes wide, Ann looked at him wildly. “It’s my fault. Oh, Reed, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s that narrow—minded, simpleton of a caseworker.” He couldn’t think of adjectives bad enough to describe what that stupid woman was doing to him. To Bets. “What gives her the right to judge you? You’re a good mother. Terrific! And she’s saying just because you’ve been accused of a penny—ante crime, you’re not fit!”
“Not fit? Dear heaven, what else is going to go wrong?”
He plowed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll take Bets away, that’s what I’ll do. We’ll start over someplace else. But I won’t let them take her away, damn it! I won’t.”
“You can’t leave your home, Reed.” Her voice trembled and her eyes glistened. “You know you can’t raise Bets on the road. You said so yourself.”
“So what other choice do I have?”
“I’m the problem, not you. That means I’m the one who has to go.” Tears welled in her eyes like waves on an emerald sea.
He stared at her incredulously. “What are you talking about?”
“An annulment.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the solar plexus, driving the wind from him. “It’s too soon.” He couldn’t lose Ann yet. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He’d thought she’d stay until the adoption was final. It could have been months. Now some cretin social worker had messed up everything. Everything.
“Think about it, Reed. You married me because of my impeccable reputation. Now that’s a joke. But nobody’s laughing. I’ve been arrested, lost my job. Because of my father, I came close to causing you to lose the ranch. If you weren’t stuck with me, the social worker would have approved your request to adopt Bets.”
“No. She would have looked under some other damn rock and come up with a reason to turn me down. That’s the way those people think.”
“She’s trying to do her job.”
“The hell she is.” Restless frustration drove Reed across the kitchen. He ran water into a glass, drank half the contents in single gulp then slammed the glass down on the counter, nearly shattering it. He’d quenched his thirst but he hadn’t managed to wash the bitter taste of failure out of his mouth. He’d promised Betsy and now they were going to take her baby away from him.
He sensed Ann coming up behind him, and she placed her hand on his back in a caress as soft as a whisper. He wanted
to turn around, pull her into his arms, bury his face in her hair and inhale her womanly scent. But he couldn’t do that. Right now it would hurt too much because she was going to leave him, too. He’d known it wouldn’t last. So why did he care so much?
“Maybe Marvin Hutch can do something,” Ann said. “Get a court order to halt the proceedings. That would buy you some time.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He watched as a car raised a plume of dust on the long dirt drive that led to the ranch house. A stranger coming. Maybe another social worker coming to get Bets. Frustration burned in Reed’s gut. Betsy should have found somebody else to give her kid to. He could have told her he was a loser. His old man had said so more than once.
His mother hadn’t even thought he was good enough to take him with her when she hightailed it outta here.
The car stopped short of the house as if the driver was afraid to get too close. A woman got out and stood by the vehicle. If she’d come to get Bets, what the hell was she waiting for? Maybe it was the mutt’s yammering that had her hesitating to go too far from the safety of her car.
Reed frowned and squinted. The woman had golden—brown hair, and he watched in fascination as she gave her head a little toss and flipped her long hair back behind her shoulder, a nervous gesture he knew was totally unconscious.
He turned to Ann, relief twitching his lips into a near smile. “Looks like you’ve got company, sugar.”
She blinked as though she’d been fighting her own fears as hard as he’d been struggling against his. “Now? Who?” She glanced out the window.
“Your twin.”
Chapter Twelve
It was like looking in a mirror.
The stranger’s hair was the same color as Ann’s, cut the same length with the same natural curl at the ends. Her eyebrows arched at the same shallow angle and her eyes were the same odd shade that drifted beyond hazel into green. She was even wearing the same shade of lip gloss. Ann kept thinking if she moved, the image would move in unison with her.
“Uncanny, isn’t it?” the woman said, once Arnold had quieted his barking. Her voice was a little husky, and Ann wondered if she sounded the same to others.
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