by Nora Roberts
“Uh-huh.” Tess searched out wineglasses herself, poured. “Sit down, Lily. I think we should talk.”
“Maybe I should take out some coffee.”
“Sit down. Please.” Tess slipped onto the wooden bench of the breakfast nook and waited.
“All right.” Lily sat down across the polished table and folded her hands in her lap.
Tess slid the wineglass over, lifted her own. “I suppose eventually we should get into the story of our lives, but this doesn’t seem to be the right time.” From her pocket she took the single cigarette she’d slipped out of her secret emergency pack, twirling it in her fingers before reaching for the book of matches. “This is a pretty ugly business.”
“Yes.” Automatically Lily rose, fetched an ashtray, and brought it back to the table. “That poor man. I don’t know which one he was, but—”
“The balding one, with the big moustache and bigger belly,” Tess told her, and with a shrug for willpower, lit the cigarette.
“Oh.” Now that she had a face to focus on, Lily felt the shame grow. “Yes, I’ve seen him. He was stabbed, wasn’t he?”
“I think it was worse than that, but I don’t have a lot of the details other than Will found him on one of those roads that go all over the ranch.”
“It must have been horrible for her.”
“Yeah.” Tess grimaced, picked up her wine. She might not have been fond of her youngest half sister, but she wouldn’t have wished this particular experience on anyone. “She’ll handle it. They breed them tough out here. Anyway . . .” She sipped, found the wine not quite as inferior as she’d thought. “What about you? Are you staying or going?”
More out of a need to do something with her hands than a desire for wine, Lily reached for her glass. “I don’t really have anyplace else to go. I suppose you’ll be going back to California.”
“I’ve thought about it.” Tess leaned back, studied the woman across from her. Keeps her eyes down, Tess mused, and her hands busy. She’d been certain that shy Lily would already have booked a flight to anywhere. “I figure it this way. People are murdered every day in LA. Kids regularly whack each other for painting graffiti in the wrong territory. There are drug hits every time you blink. Shootings, knifings, muggings, bludgeonings.” She smiled. “God, I love that town.”
Catching Lily’s appalled expression, Tess threw back her head and laughed. “Sorry,” she managed after a moment, pressing a hand to her heart. “My point is that as bad as this is, as close as it is, it’s only one murder. Comparatively, it just isn’t that big a deal, certainly not big enough to chase me away from collecting what’s mine.”
Lily drank again, struggled to gather her thoughts. “You’re staying. You’re going to stay.”
“Yeah, I’m going to stay. Nothing’s changed.”
“I thought—” Closing her eyes, Lily let the relief run through her and twine with the shame. “I was sure you wouldn’t, and then I’d have to leave.” She opened her eyes again, soft, quiet blue with hints of haunted gray. “That’s horrible. That poor man’s dead, and all I’ve been able to think about is how it affects me.”
“That’s just honest. You didn’t know him. Hey.” Because there was something about Lily that tugged at her, Tess reached for her sister’s hand. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. We’ve all got a lot at stake here. We’re entitled to think about what’s ours.”
Lily looked down at the joined hands. Tess’s were so pretty, she thought, with the glitter of rings and the enviable strength and confidence in the fingers. She lifted her gaze. “I didn’t do anything to deserve this place. Neither did you.”
Tess merely nodded and, withdrawing her hand, lifted her glass again. “I didn’t do anything to deserve being ignored my entire life. And neither did you.”
Willa came into the kitchen, stopped short when she saw the women at the table. Her face was still pale, her movements still jerky. After all the questions, the going over and over her discovery of the body, she’d been more than happy to see the police on their way.
“Well, this is cozy.” She slipped her hands into her pockets as she stepped toward the table. Her fingers still tended to shake. “I figured the two of you would be packing, not sitting around having a chat.”
“We’ve been talking about that.” Tess lifted an eyebrow but made no comment when Will picked up her wineglass and drank. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“Is that so?” Because wine seemed like a fine idea, Willa crossed to the cupboards and took out a tumbler. Then she just stood there, unable to move, barely able to think.
She hadn’t been able to fully consider the loss of the ranch. It had been there, in the back of her mind, the certainty that the two women who had been pushed on her would run. And with them would go her life. But it wasn’t until now, until she knew they would stay, that it hit her. And it hit hard.
Giving in, she rested her head against the cupboard door and closed her eyes.
Pickles. Dear God, would she see him for the rest of her life, what had been done to him, what had been left of him? And all that blood, baking in the sun. The way his eyes had stared up at her, the horror frozen in them.
But the ranch, for now, was safe.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
She didn’t realize she’d moaned it out loud until Lily laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. Shrinking from the touch, Willa straightened quickly.
“I made soup.” Lily felt foolish saying it but could think of nothing else. “You should eat something.”
“I don’t think I could handle food right now.” Willa stepped back, afraid that too much comfort would break her. She walked back to the table and, under Tess’s fascinated eye, filled the tumbler full of wine.
“That’s good,” Tess murmured, watching in admiration as Willa gulped wine like water. “That’s damn good. How long can you do that and still stand up?”
“We’ll have to find out.” She turned when the kitchen door opened, drew a steadying breath when Ben came in.
She didn’t want to berate herself for leaning on him, for collapsing in his arms, for letting him do the dirty work while she had sat by, too ill to function. But it was hard to swallow.
“Ladies.” In a gesture that mimicked Willa’s habit, he took the glass from her hand and sipped. “Here’s to the end of a lousy day.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Tess did, as she studied him. The gilded cowboy, she mused. And a mouthwaterer. “I’m Tess. You must be Ben McKinnon.”
“Nice to meet you. Sorry it isn’t under more pleasant circumstances.” He lifted a hand to Willa’s chin, turned her face to his. “Go lie down.”
“I have to talk to the men.”
“No, you don’t. What you have to do is go lie down and turn this off for a while.”
“I’m not going to pull the covers over my head because—”
“There’s nothing you can do,” he interrupted. She was trembling. He could feel just how hard she was fighting it, but the tremors came through and into his fingertips. “You’re sick and you’re tired, and you’ve just had to relive an ugly experience half a dozen times. Adam is taking the cops down to talk to the men in the bunkhouse, and there’s nothing for you to do but try to get some sleep.”
“My men are—”
“Who’s going to pull them together tomorrow—and the day after—if you break down?” He inclined his head when she shut her mouth. “Now you can go up and lie down under your own steam, Will, or I’ll take you myself. Either way, that’s what you’re going to do. Right now.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes, bubbled hot in her throat. Too proud to shed them in front of him, she shoved his hand aside, swiveled on her heel, and stalked out.
“I’m impressed,” Tess murmured when the kitchen door slammed. “I didn’t think anyone could push her around.”
“She’d have pushed back, but she knew she’d break. Will won’t let herself break.” He frowned into his wine, wis
hing he’d been able to gentle her into it instead of browbeating her. “I don’t know many who could have gotten through what she did today without breaking.”
“Should she be alone?” Lily pressed her fingers to her lips. “I could go up with her, but . . . I don’t know if she’d want that.”
“No, she’s better off alone.” But Ben smiled, pleased that she’d offered. “This hasn’t exactly been a weekend at a dude ranch resort for either of you, but I’ll say welcome to Montana anyway.”
“I love it here.” The minute she’d said it, Lily flushed and scrambled to her feet as Tess chuckled. “Would you like something to eat? I made soup, and there’s plenty of fixings for sandwiches.”
“Angel, if that’s your soup I’m smelling, I’d be grateful to have a bowl.”
“Good. Tess?”
“Sure, why the hell not?” Since Lily seemed eager to serve, Tess stayed where she was, tapping her fingers on the table. “Do the police think it was someone from the ranch who did it?”
Ben slid in across from her. “I imagine they’ll concentrate here, first anyway. There’s no public access to the ranch, but that doesn’t mean someone from outside couldn’t have found the way out there. A horse, a jeep.” He moved his shoulders, skimmed a hand through his hair. “It’s easy enough access from Three Rocks to Mercy land. Hell, I was there myself.”
He lifted an eyebrow at Tess’s speculative look. “Of course, I can tell you I didn’t do it, but you don’t know me. It’s also possible to get there through the Rocking R Ranch, or Nate’s place, or the high country.”
“Well”—Tess poured herself more wine—“that certainly narrows things down, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll tell you this—anyone who knows the mountains, the land around here, could hide out for months, go pretty much wherever the hell he pleased. And be damn hard to find.”
“We appreciate your easing our minds.” She flicked a glance at Lily as she set steaming bowls on the table. “Don’t we, Lily?”
“I’d rather know.” Lily sat on the edge of the bench next to Tess and folded her hands again. “You can take precautions better if you know.”
“That’s exactly right. I’d say a good precaution would be for neither of you to wander far from the house here alone, for the time being.”
“I’m not much of a wanderer.” Though her stomach suddenly felt uneasy, Tess spooned up soup. “And Lily sticks pretty close to Adam.” She looked at Ben. “Is he a suspect?”
“I don’t know what the police think, but I can tell you that Adam Wolfchild would no more gut and scalp a man than he’d sprout wings and fly to Idaho.” He glanced over when Tess’s spoon crashed onto the table. He’d have cursed himself if it would have done any good. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew the details.”
“No.” Tess went for the wine rather than the soup. “We didn’t.”
“She saw that?” Lily twisted her hands in her lap. “She found that?”
“And she’ll live with that.” They both would, Ben thought, for it was an image he knew would never completely fade from his memory. “I don’t want to scare you, I just want you to be careful.”
“You can count on it,” Tess promised him. “But what about her?” She jerked a thumb toward the ceiling. “You’re not going to keep her close to the house without shackles.”
“Adam will keep an eye on her. And so will I.” Hoping to ease the tension, he spooned up more soup. “And hanging around here isn’t going to be much of a hardship if this is the kind of cooking I’m in for.”
Both women jumped when the outside door opened. Adam came in, along with the night chill. “They’re done with me for now.”
“Join the party,” Tess invited. “Soup and wine is our menu tonight.”
He gave her a solemn look before studying Lily. “I think I’d go for coffee. No, sit,” he added when Lily started to get up. “I can get it myself. I just came by to check on Willa.”
“Ben made her go up and lie down.” Nerves and relief had words bubbling out before Lily could stop them. “She needed to rest. I can fix you some soup. You should eat something, and there’s plenty.”
“I can get it. Sit down.”
“There’s bread. I forgot to put the bread out. I should—”
“You should sit.” He spoke very quietly as he ladled up soup. “And try to relax.” He filled a second bowl, brought both to the table. “And you should eat. I’ll get the bread.”
She stared at him, baffled, while he moved competently around the kitchen. None of the men in her life had so much as picked up a dish unless it was to ask for seconds. She flicked a glance at Ben, looking for the sneer, but he continued to eat as though there was nothing unusual at all about having a man serve food.
“Do you want me to stay over, Adam, give you a hand with things for a day or two?”
“No. Thanks anyway. We’ll have to take it a step at a time.” He sat down across from Lily and looked her in the eye. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, picked up her spoon, and tried to eat.
“Pickles didn’t have any family,” Adam continued. “I think there was a sister maybe, down in Wyoming. I guess we’ll try to find her, if she’s still around, but I’d say we’ll handle the arrangements once they release the body.”
“You ought to have Nate do that.” Ben broke off a hunk of bread. “Willa will pass that to him if you suggest it.”
“All right, I’ll do that. I don’t think she’d have gotten through this without you. I want you to know that.”
“I just happened to be there.” It still unnerved him, the way she’d all but crawled into his arms. And the way she’d fit when she had. “Once she’s over the shock, she’ll likely be sorry it was me who was.”
“You’re wrong. She’ll be grateful, and so am I.” He turned his hand over, palm up, where there was a long, thin scar between the lines of heart and head. “Brother.”
Ben’s lips twitched as he looked at the similar mark on his own hand. And he remembered when two young boys had stood on the banks of a river in the half-light of a canyon and solemnly mixed their blood in brotherhood.
“Uh-oh, male ritual time.” Absurdly touched, Tess nudged Lily so that she could slide out. “That’s my cue to leave you gentlemen to your port and cigars while I go up and do something exciting like paint my toenails.”
Appreciating her, Ben grinned. “I bet they’re real pretty, too.”
“Sweetheart, they are awesome.” It was simple to decide she liked him. And not a very large step from there to decide to trust him. “I guess I’ll range myself with Adam and say I’m grateful you were here. Good night.”
“I’ll go too.” Lily reached down for Tess’s half-eaten bowl of soup.
“Don’t go.” Adam laid a hand over hers. “You haven’t eaten.”
“You’ll want to talk. I can take it up with me.”
“Don’t run off on my account.” Pretty sure that he saw how the wind blew here, Ben slid off the bench. “I’ve got to get home. I appreciate the meal, Lily.” He reached up to touch her cheek, felt her instinctive wince of defense. Smoothly, he dropped his hand, as if the moment hadn’t happened. “You eat while it’s hot,” he advised. “I’ll be around tomorrow, Adam.”
“Good night, Ben.” Adam kept his hand over Lily’s, giving it a coaxing tug until she sat again. Then he took her other hand, linked his fingers in hers, and waited until she lifted her eyes to his. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m always afraid.”
Her hands flexed under his, but he judged it was time to take the chance, so he continued to hold them. “You came to a strange place, with only strangers around you. And you stayed. There’s courage there.”
“I only came to hide. You don’t know me, Adam.”
“I will when you let me.” He released one of her hands, lifted his own, and brushed his thumb over the faded bruise beneath her eye. She went very still, watched h
im warily as he traced his thumb down to the marks on her jaw. “I want to know you, Lily, when you’re ready.”
“Why?”
His eyes smiled and stirred her heart. “Because you understand horses, and you sneak kitchen scraps to my dogs.” The smile moved to his mouth when she flushed. “And because you make good soup. Now, eat,” he said, and released her hand. “Before it’s cold.”
Watching him from under her lashes, she picked up her spoon and ate.
Upstairs, armed with a book she’d chosen from the library and a bottle of mineral water she’d taken from behind the bar, Tess walked toward her room. She had decided to read until her eyes crossed, hoping that it would bring her undisturbed and dreamless sleep.
Her imagination was much too vivid, she thought. It was the very reason she was beginning to make her mark as a screenwriter. And the very reason that the details Ben had provided were going to shift and stir until they formed many ugly visions in her head.
She had great hope that the thick paperback romance whose cover promised plenty of passion and adventure would steer her mind to other venues.
Then she passed Willa’s door and heard the bitter, broken weeping. She hesitated, wished to hell she’d thought to come up the other stairs. More, wished the helpless sobbing didn’t touch a chord in her. When a strong woman wept, she thought, the tears came from the deepest and darkest corners of the heart.
She lifted a hand to knock, then on an oath just laid her palm on the wood. Perhaps if they had known each other, or if they had been complete strangers, she could have gone in. If they had had no ghosts between them, no harbored resentments, she could have opened that door and offered . . . something.
But she knew she wouldn’t be welcomed. There could be no woman-to-woman comfort here, much less sister to sister. And realizing she was sorry for that, very sorry, she continued to her own room, carefully closed, carefully locked the door behind her.
But she no longer thought her dreams would be undisturbed.
I N THE DARK. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHEN THE wind kicked up and threatened and the rain came hard and vicious, he lay smiling. Reliving every moment of the kill, second by second, brought a curious thrill.