She shook off those thoughts. That was a road she didn’t want to travel with him again.
Liar! She did ache for his touch, for his kiss, for his brand of love that surely was hotter than the flames that had licked over the JDB.
Even the memory of it left her hot and thirsting for what they’d had. And her foolish heart was telling her they could have it again.
“Best let me go in first,” Trey said. “See if it’s safe for you to poke around.”
She nodded and tore her gaze from his, hating that he could hide his emotions so well while hers were hung out like laundry for all the world to see.
He stepped into the blackened hull of what had been the entry and moved into the parlor. His steps sounded hollow, like he was walking on eggshells.
A moment later she knew why when wood cracked and he dropped through the floorboards.
“Trey!” She rushed into the entry.
“Get out of here,” he said, but she didn’t move. “You could fall through anywhere just like I did.”
He hoisted himself up onto the floor and tested for a stronger place to hold him. “Fire must’ve started here.”
In the middle of the parlor floor? Of course. Someone had broken into the house and intentionally set a fire, using Mother’s furniture for kindling.
Most of the interior walls had been reduced to ash, leaving only the adobe exterior walls. One of them was crumbling, likely because the rafters were gone.
She moved toward the bedrooms. Hers was destroyed.
“Daisy, get out of there,” Trey said, but she ignored him.
She stepped into her daddy’s room, and stared at the burned remains of a massive bed.
The dresser on the far wall was charred but intact.
She moved to it, her steps cautious, her heart hammering wildly. This was his private domain. The one room she’d been run out of as a child.
She hadn’t ventured in here since, even after her daddy’s death. She’d even instructed Ramona to leave her daddy’s things where he had left them instead of cleaning out the room.
“Daisy,” Trey said, his tone sharp and holding a strong measure of annoyance.
“Shh.”
She felt like a trespasser in fear that the owner would catch her, as if her daddy would holler at her to scat. If only it was him behind her instead of Trey!
A small case sat on the dresser, one edge of it half burned black. It’d been her mother’s jewelry box and clearly something her daddy couldn’t part with either.
She lifted the lid, but it broke off and fell on the dresser top. Ashes scattered and released their oily scent again.
Inside were a few pieces of jewelry. A ring. Ear bobs.
Her fingers closed over the broach buried deep in the case. A memory stirred to life of seeing a similar one pinned at a woman’s throat, the details on the bone relief of a woman and child so delicate that she could see the expression of love on the mother’s face.
Yet this one was simply a cameo of a woman. Why had she thought it was a mother and child?
“I remember crying for this when I was little,” she said. “Mother stopped wearing it. In fact I thought that it had been buried with her.”
“Reckon your pa kept it for you.”
A lightning flash memory of a broach being pinned on her dress came and went, too quickly for her to grasp. Yet the sadness that seeped into her and left her weak in the knees convinced her the fleeting image was real. When had Daddy done that? Why hadn’t he let her keep the broach?
“Maybe he was afraid I’d lose it,” she said, staring at the beautiful piece of jewelry cradled in her palm.
Her fingers tightened around the delicate face of the broach, the ivory cool against her skin. But though it was beautiful and stirred sweet memories, something about it troubled her. Something wasn’t quite right.
The pounding of hooves stampeded over that thought. She whipped around to find Trey’s broad back to her, blocking her from seeing who was approaching. His right hand hovered near the six-shooter strapped to his hips, and his gaze fixed on the crumbling southern wall, giving a clear view of the mounted men.
A chill feathered down her spine. “Who are they?”
“Can’t tell.”
She felt his tension pulse in the air and hum along her already taut nerves. She’d never felt so exposed. So vulnerable. So afraid in the house that had been her safe haven for years.
Correction. Make that a shell of a house.
They had nowhere to hide here. No way to reach their horses before the riders were upon them.
Her gaze darted to the men approaching at a steady clip. Six cowboys.
They were too far away to see their faces. They’d have to ride much closer before she and Trey knew if they were friend or foe.
Close enough to greet them with a smile. Or a bullet.
Chapter 12
Daisy recognized the tall man riding in front of the others at the same instant that Trey went for his gun. A moment’s panic knifed through her.
She stepped forward and curled her fingers around Trey’s right hand. He jolted, and she shivered as she felt his rage and some other emotion arc from him into her and leave her struggling for breath.
The intensity was just too much. It was as if she’d reached into a dark place to find him, a place where a battle of wills was going on. Again she realized she didn’t know him at all, not the man buried deep inside.
“It’s Kurt Leonard,” she said.
“So it is.” He dropped his hand from his gun and helped her from the ruins. Then he took a stand a few feet from her, not shaking her off, but the distancing felt the same.
That invisible barrier he threw up was deceiving, for even when she’d been in his arms, she’d been miles away from the heart of this man.
There was still so much unsaid between them. So much uncertainty over what she should tell him.
All along she’d decided he didn’t have a right to know. He’d been the one to leave her.
Except now she knew that’s not what had happened.
She took a breath. Held it. Rolled the truth and lies over and over in her mind until one fact stood out from the others.
Nothing would be accomplished by telling him her darkest secret. Nothing but more hurt. It was over. Done with. She couldn’t repeat that mistake.
But even knowing that, she had to fight the urge to move closer to him. She pressed her other hand over her pounding heart and realized she still held her mother’s broach so tightly that the delicate design was digging into her palm.
Her earlier tingle of memory failed to resurface. Like smoke caught in the wind, it was gone.
Just as well. This wasn’t the time to get caught woolgathering. The man she’d promised to marry was just about upon them. And the Romeo cowboy who’d ridden into her life and lassoed her heart looked ready to tear him limb from limb.
She shook her head, certain Trey’s anger had nothing to do with Kurt. Yet the thought persisted that he acted like he owned the place and didn’t want Kurt setting foot on the JDB.
The cowboys reined up back where the bunkhouse had been, but Kurt rode on. Slower now. Taking his time. No doubt noting the big man beside her and taking Trey’s measure.
Those broad shoulders and the gunfighter stance were mighty intimidating, even in a country where most men and their dreams were impressive.
Trey was a throwback, a man others respected if not feared. He possessed the grit and guts that most men just dreamed about.
She hadn’t seen Kurt since Daddy’s funeral, and then he had been a blur in the crowd. He hadn’t done more than extend his clipped condolences and move on.
That was to be expected. He’d been angry with her when she’d called off the wedding, and equally furious with her daddy for letting her do as she pleased.
She’d been certain Kurt’s anger with her and her daddy would ebb in time. She was sure he would forget her when the right woman came along. A woma
n who loved only him.
He was a handsome rancher. A good quiet man. Or so she’d thought.
But he’d clearly changed. Had those deep lines around his eyes been there at Daddy’s funeral? When had that hard glint begun to burn in his eyes?
Kurt reined up across from them and gave her the barest dip of his chin, his eyes shadowed by the wide brim of his hat. “Afternoon, Daisy.”
“Hello,” she said.
It was difficult for her to remember courting Kurt. There’d been nothing memorable about all those weeks of seeing him. Nothing that had tempted her to toss up her skirts and have her way with him.
She’d simply been captivated by Kurt’s handsome face, charming smile, and undemanding ways. He was nice. Safe.
He’d been the first man who ever called on her. They’d gone riding. Gone to church. Gone to barn dances.
They’d kissed that first time on a dare. Later they’d shared no more than chaste pecks on the cheek and one light brush of lips on lips. He’d never forced more on her. She’d never craved more, because at that point she hadn’t known there was more for a woman to want.
She’d thought she’d be happy being his wife. Thought she’d make her daddy happy. Thought she’d find peace in his arms.
But she hadn’t.
Maybe she would have if Trey March hadn’t ridden into her life and stolen her heart. If his arms hadn’t been the ones that made her feel safe from a past she couldn’t remember.
She wanted Trey. Desired him. Had known passion with him that blazed hotter than the sun before it was snuffed out.
There was no going back. No making amends. She’d hurt Kurt. Shamed him. Used him. And now here she was with Trey by her side and feeling every inch the jezebel.
“What brings you by?” Trey asked.
Kurt shifted his gaze to Trey, and his eyes went hard and his mouth pulled into a flat line. “I could ask the same of you, seeing as you moved the herd and left the JDB.”
“Somebody pumped the well dry,” Trey said. “Only choice was to move the herd to the Circle 46.”
“Here I thought Daisy had up and sold out.”
She’d feared she’d have to do just that. “Even if I’d wanted to, I’d never have gotten a decent price for the herd or the ranch during a drought.”
She’d get even less now that the house and outbuildings had been destroyed.
“Didn’t know you’d had trouble before the fire,” Kurt said.
Trouble had been her constant companion since her daddy’s death. No, since Trey had disappeared. But Kurt wouldn’t have known that, because he hadn’t come around.
“Why are you here?” she asked, realizing that he’d never answered Trey’s question.
“I’ve had a man watching the JDB,” Kurt said. “Feared whoever had done this to your spread would get it in his head to burn out another ranch. When he saw a couple of folks poking around, he let me know.”
“Any idea who did this?” Trey asked, taking charge. Asking what she should have asked.
“Nope. Reckon it was either done for the hell of it,” Kurt stared at her, “or somebody had a grudge with the JDB.”
“Ned Durant,” she said, the name instantly springing to mind. “He was none too happy when I fired him.”
“Did you now?” Kurt flicked a glance at Trey. “That before or after March came back?”
“After,” she said and damned the heat that stole up her neck and blazed on her face.
Kurt had to know that there was something between her and Trey. Had been something, she amended.
She’d surely never admit that she still ached for him, still dreamed of him holding her, kissing her, moving deep, deep inside her. If not for the nightmare of losing Trey, of losing their baby, she’d be sorely tempted to toss aside the thin veil of propriety she clung to and welcome him back in her bed.
Heat burned her cheeks at that inner admission, but she held her head high. “Trey found out that Durant had been cheating Daddy with the cattle. Cheating me even more.”
“I suspect Durant was selling off fifty or more head at a time,” Trey said.
That drew a frown from Kurt. “You might be right. He approached me about two months back, offering up close to a hundred head of JDB cattle. Good stock, but I was ready to decline until he told me that Daisy was forced to sell them to make ends meet.”
“How good of you to help me out in a pinch,” she said, stiff with anger that he’d offer that type of charity yet he’d never come by to see how badly she was struggling.
“I did it out of respect for Barton,” Kurt said, putting emphasis on respect. “He was a damned good man.”
He didn’t add that she wasn’t a damn good woman, and he wouldn’t. Daisy knew she’d hurt him. Or maybe just humiliated him. Kicked dirt on his pride. But better now than after they were married and both were miserable.
She hoped he’d realize that one day. Hope that she’d find a damned good man to love.
She thought she had with Trey.
Her brow furrowed. He was good, just not that cubbyhole good her daddy wanted for her. Like Kurt.
She felt Trey shift his stance beside her, felt his tension and anger. “Is that the only time he offered you cattle?”
“Nope. Durant came to me just a few weeks back with another fifty head. I declined. Doing good to hang on to what I had with this drought worsening,” Kurt said.
Ned could’ve sold them to another rancher, could’ve driven them to market, or added them to the cattle he’d been buying off her. She could just scream in frustration when she thought how much that man had swindled out of her.
“You see Durant hanging around?” Trey asked.
“Nope. But he could be holed up on one of the ranches that went bust.” Kurt shifted in the saddle and squinted at the remains of the house. “Nothing left here but the land. Are you going to hang on to it or are you ready to sell out?”
“I’m keeping it,” she said.
For as long as she could, anyway. How long would that be once Trey rode off again?
Kurt dipped his chin. Eyed her like she was a bug on the wall. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll give you fair value for the land. Any stock you want to get rid of too.”
That would double Kurt’s holdings as well as increase his water source. He’d be a cattle baron to be reckoned with. He’d own what he would’ve gained if she’d married him.
“Just think about it,” he said.
She nodded, unable to say more. For though her heart stubbornly wanted to hang on to the JDB, she knew the reality of her running two ranches wasn’t promising.
Trey stood still as stone as Kurt Leonard and his men rode off. He was between a rock and a hard place and didn’t like the feeling one damned bit.
Before it had dawned on him that Daisy could be Dade’s sister, he’d aimed to buy the Circle 46 and sever all ties to her and the JDB. He hadn’t rightly given a damn what happened to her.
At least that’s what he kept telling himself. But he did care. He cared too damned much.
The whole time he’d been laid up fighting to live, he’d thought of her. He’d hated her, or he had tried to. The only constant was that he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Out of his blood.
Each time he’d thought of her in another man’s arms, rage had exploded inside him. Now when the real possibility of her losing everything Barton had owned kicked up like a cyclone on the plains, he was thinking up ways how he could help her hold on to it.
With the JDB rendered to ashes, she’d have to rebuild. That would take time and money. She had plenty of the first, for she could continue living at the Circle 46. But she was as close to dead broke as he was.
And with Kurt offering for the JDB ... Hell, he was going to have to act fast here or risk ending up on the outside looking in.
He needed land. If she wouldn’t sell the Circle 46, then all or a damned good portion of the JDB would do.
It was the tho
ught of convincing her to go along with his plan that gave him heartburn. Right now she was holding on to everything her daddy owned like a bur on wool.
Then there was Dade to figure into this.
When Dade realized what he’d done to Daisy, the shit would hit the fan. His brother wouldn’t be forgiving, not when he’d spent years looking for Daisy.
Claiming ignorance of her identity wouldn’t wash. She’d mentioned having memory voids before, but he’d never given them much heed. But then he’d been intent on one thing—seducing the big boss’s daughter.
That had proved mighty easy. At times it’d been hard to tell which excited him more—the risk of playing footsie behind Barton’s back or the pure pleasure he’d felt each time he’d taken Daisy in his arms.
Now he knew which one set his blood on fire. Wouldn’t take much encouragement from her and they’d be right back in bed.
Problem was he couldn’t dally with her now that he knew who she really was. He’d written to Dade, and he suspected he’d head here as soon as he got that letter.
Trey surely didn’t look forward to the battle that would ensue. Didn’t like thinking that Dade might put a bullet in his heart instead of a shotgun in his back.
Yep, the only sure way he could own the land he coveted was to marry Daisy. Might not take more than a few words and sweet loving to get her to agree.
Long as she didn’t know he was marrying her to get his hands on the land, all would be fine. He’d just have to find a way to live with the fact that he’d deceived her. Lied to her.
And damn it all but he just couldn’t do it. Yep, he was a born bastard. He could be a mean sonofabitch when crossed. He’d never had a problem loving a woman and walking away.
Except this was Daisy, and she stirred something inside him that scared the ever-living shit out of him.
Then there was the fact she’d been hurt enough. By thinking he’d abandoned her. By Barton’s death. And now this—seeing her home burned clean to the ground.
Dammit! He wanted the land. Wanted the woman. So why was he dithering over taking both?
Don’t cheat a man, and don’t break a woman’s heart, Kirby had told them time and again.
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