Looking in her rearview mirror, she saw the headlights of another car approaching fast behind her. Too fast. Within moments the car’s high beams glared in her mirror and nearly blinded her. “Jerk,” she muttered, and flipped up her mirror to diffuse the glare.
She frowned as the car rode up behind her, so close the headlights disappeared altogether and she felt a thud of bumper meeting bumper.
“Hey,” she yelled, and pressed the gas pedal in an attempt to gain some distance. But the car behind her accelerated, as well, once again striking her bumper with enough force to snap her head back painfully against her seat.
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, swerving back and forth on the narrow road in an effort to evade whoever was behind her. But her pursuer remained with her.
The darkness of the night hid the car in anonymity. With no streetlights around and the moon shrouded by clouds, Belinda couldn’t tell the make, model or color of the vehicle. However, it quickly became clear that the intention was to force her off the road, cause her to land in the ditch or perhaps hit one of the thick trees that lined the narrow road.
Her car was struck again, this time with enough force to send her into a near spin. She whirled the steering wheel in an effort to right the car and, overcompensating, felt her tires leave the road.
She screamed. Dark silhouettes of trees flashed in front of her. Branches slapped at the car. Brush screeched against the undercarriage as she fought to maintain control. The car smacked into a tree and Belinda snapped forward then backward, saved only by her seat belt from careering through the windshield.
Adrenaline pumped inside her as ragged breaths escaped through her lips. The engine died on impact and the sudden silence seemed to amplify her gasps for breath. Belinda unfastened the seat belt and whirled around to look at the road behind her.
Her attacker was still there…sitting on the road like a menacing shadow. Who was it? Why was this happening? Questions swirled in her mind as she stared at her pursuer. Unsure what might happen next, she eased down her window and kept her gaze focused on the car. She could hear the motor, a slight miss in the rhythm.
She narrowed her gaze, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of something—anything—that would identify the car or driver. Without warning, the engine revved, backfired, and the car shot off.
It wasn’t until Belinda saw a pickup pull up and a man jump out that she realized that’s what had caused the car to leave. And it wasn’t until she heard Derek’s voice that she realized the pickup was his. “Everyone all right in there?” he yelled.
He raced toward her, his tall figure visible in the glow from the moon. She started to get out of the car, but realized she couldn’t. The adrenaline that had surged through her moments before was gone, leaving her shaken and weak.
Derek wrenched the car door open. “My God…Belinda. Are you all right?” His voice held a frantic tone that instantly caused tears to spring to her eyes.
“I’m okay…” A sob welled up inside, pressing thickly into her throat.
Derek helped her out and immediately pulled her into his arms. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She nodded, unable to speak as the horror of the situation swept through her. Tears came faster, blurring her vision. For a long moment Derek said nothing. He held her tight against his chest, his hands moving up and down her back as if to assure himself she was all there.
All feelings of past animosity fell aside as Belinda burrowed closer against him, needing his warmth, the security of his embrace to chase away the chills that still shivered through her.
She pulled away from him only when she realized how desperately she wanted to remain cradled in his arms. She walked around to the front of her car, staring in dismay at the damage. Steam hissed into the air from the busted radiator and the front end of the car had crumpled into itself beneath the force of the collision. There was no way she’d be able to drive it home.
“Want to tell me what happened?” Derek asked. “I came over the rise and saw headlights off the road and another car tearing away.”
“I—I’m not sure what happened. All I know is some crazy nut decided to play bumper cars with me.”
“Surely it was just an accident. Probably whoever was driving that car had too much to drink.” An edge in his voice intensified his comment.
Belinda shivered and wrapped her arms around, herself. “I—I don’t know. Maybe,” she replied, although her heart knew different. There was no way this was an accident. Perhaps the driver had been drunk, but there was no way to mistake what had happened. She’d been intentionally forced off the road.
Derek touched her arm. “It will take a tow truck to get your car out of here. Come on, let me take you home.”
His fingers were warm…too warm on her bare skin. She jerked away from his touch. “No. If you’ll just call Jake’s Garage, I’ll wait here for a tow truck.” There was no way she wanted to get into the close confines of his pickup with him.
Despite the circumstances, in spite of the terror that still swirled inside her, she was far too conscious of the comfort she’d found in his arms, far too vulnerable to the desire she felt for him…a desire that refused to be quenched even beneath the weight of her bitterness.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Derek replied. “There’s no way I’m going to drive away and leave you here in the middle of nowhere to wait for Jake Watkins to tear himself away from the television to get out here.” He paused and she saw a wry smile curve his lips. “What’s the matter, Belinda? Afraid to be alone with me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. She reached into her car and pulled the keys from the ignition, then placed them beneath the floor mat. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“When you get home you’d better call Sheriff Blanchard and make a report,” Derek said as he started his pickup and headed toward the Connor ranch.
“I’m not sure there’s any point. I don’t suppose you got a good look at the car that hit mine?”
He shook his head. “Afraid not. All I saw were the taillights as it took off. You still should file a report. If nothing else, for insurance purposes.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She cracked her window a couple of inches, hoping the chill night air would dispel the pleasant scent of him that filled the interior of the cab.
How was it possible to hate a man and yet feel so alive in his presence? she wondered. All her senses seemed heightened. The night appeared darker, the stars brighter, senses sharper. It had always been that way, and it irritated her that despite her heartache, the magic she’d always felt when he was around still remained
Black magic, she scoffed inwardly. She’d always heard that a woman retained a special place in her heart for the man who was her first lover. But Belinda refused to entertain the idea that Derek held any part of her heart despite the fact that he’d been her first…and only lover.
“How’s the house coming?” she asked to break the uncomfortable silence between them.
“Good. The frame is up and if the weather holds we should be able to finish up the outside work by the first of next week.” His voice still held a taut edge that made her eye him curiously.
The illumination from the dashboard painted his face in a pale, amber light, emphasizing the strong lines and planes of his features. A knot pulsed at his jawline and she remembered that the one time she’d seen him angry, that throbbing knot had been the telltale signal of ire.
As if he felt her questioning gaze on him, he turned and smiled at her. “Since we have this time alone, I think we should talk about what’s really important. Chocolate or vanilla?”
She stared at him blankly. “Chocolate or vanilla what?”
“Which do you prefer for our wedding cake?”
“There’s not going to be a wedding cake,” she returned, disturbed by the unevenness of her voice.
“Okay, we don’t have to serve cake. But I really think we should have those different colored mints. Pe
ople always like those mints.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you manipulated that car to force me off the road just so you could trap me in this pickup and talk nonsense.”
“It isn’t nonsense,” he countered. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He pulled up in front of the Connor ranch house, then turned to face her. “It’s a way we can both get what we want.”
“Derek, people don’t marry for the kinds of reasons you’re talking about. When I get married it will be for love, not for any other reason.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Ah, Belinda, you’re still waiting for some knight to ride up on a white steed and be your loving prince. Those are just fairy tales, Belinda. There are no princes, and love doesn’t last.”
It was difficult for Belinda to imagine this was the same man who’d once talked of stars and dreams. Again she was struck by how much he’d changed, that a core of hardness now resided in him that hadn’t been there before.
Well, she had a core of hardness deep within her, too. But her stony heart was a direct result of his callousness and lies, of his false promises and betrayal. “All I really want, Derek, is for you to leave me alone. I don’t want to be your temporary wife. I don’t want to be anything to you.”
She started out the passenger door. He grabbed her arm, stopping her escape. “Belinda, I need you to get the kids.” His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that nearly stole her breath away.
She yanked out of his grip. “You don’t understand, Derek. I don’t care whether you need me or not.”
He smiled. “Unless you want Henry Carsworth calling your place home, I’d say you need me every bit as much as I need you.”
“The day I need you is the day Bulldog starts speaking French.” She stepped down from the cab. “Go find somebody else to indulge you in this harebrained scheme.”
“Unfortunately, I told the judge your name. He’s expecting you as my bride,” he said. She stared at him in disbelief, appalled by his very nerve.
Again his eyes flared with an intense determination. “I can’t tell you how important this is. I’m only asking for a couple of months of your time. Those kids need me, Belinda. And you’re the only one that can help. I want to be a father.”
She slammed the truck door and walked away, unable to speak as emotions raged inside her. She watched as his truck pulled away, the taillights disappearing into the darkness of the night.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to gain control of the turbulence within. She rarely consciously pulled up memories of those months alone in Kansas City, and she constantly fought intruding remembrances of being so alone, so afraid, as the pain of childbirth had racked her body.
Opening her eyes, she drew another breath, shoving away those painful memories that only created a renewed bitter taste in her mouth when she thought of Derek. She couldn’t afford to dwell in past heartaches. She had something more urgent to consider…Who had tried to run her off the road and why?
DEREK WENT A LITTLE WAY down the main road, then turned off onto a narrow path that would take him by the back of the Connor house. As he drove, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, fighting an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
He’d shamelessly manipulated Belinda with his talk of gaining custody of the children. But Belinda had always had a soft spot in her heart for helpless animals and little children, and he knew thoughts of those children would prey on her mind and perhaps catapult her into agreeing to a marriage.
He parked the truck in a grove of trees where he had a perfect view of the back of the Connor house. There was a single light on, shining out of the window he knew was Belinda’s bedroom.
When the light went out, Derek’s mind instantly filled with a vision of Belinda in bed, her long hair loose from its braided confines and flowing like honey over the pillowcase.
He steeled himself against the evocative vision and rubbed his thigh, the dull ache a constant reminder of what would never be.
Part of what Belinda had loved about him years before had been his physical appeal…a physical attractiveness now destroyed by ugly welts and scars.
The marriage scheme would provide him both the opportunity to keep her safe until he found out who intended to harm her and to get the kids he desperately wanted.
He’d spent the past week skulking around in the shadows, trying to keep an eye on her. Marriage would make it easier.
The alternative was to tell somebody what he knew. Unfortunately he didn’t know who to trust. Even her own family was suspect at the moment.
He cracked open the window, hoping the cool night air would help him stay awake to watch for any danger that might come in the darkness of night.
His heart thudded a dull rhythm of anxiety. He knew with dreadful certainty that Belinda’s accident had been no accident. The game was in play and he had no clue who his opponents might be.
Chapter Four
For the first time in a long while, the entire Connor family sat at the kitchen table. Bedlam reigned as they passed pancakes and sausage links all around, everyone seeming to talk at once as they filled their plates.
It had been a week since the dance, a week of disappointments as they had exhausted all the avenues for a loan to keep the ranch going.
Tomorrow morning Belinda’s two sisters and their husbands and children were leaving for California. A last-ditch effort to save the ranch by finding investors.
“Will I get to see the ocean?” Cody asked for the hundredth time. He’d never been anywhere but the ranch and was thrilled at the idea of traveling.
“Yes, honey. We’ll make sure you get to see the ocean,” Abby said. She looked at Belinda, her brow furrowed with worry. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? I hate you being here all by yourself.”
Belinda smiled. “I’m positive. And don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. Besides, I won’t be by myself. The ranch hands will be here.”
“Yes, but it still doesn’t feel right going off and leaving you.”
“Abby, it’s the only way to do it. Somebody needs to stay and keep things running. Really, I don’t mind,” Belinda assured her.
“We should be back within ten days…two weeks tops,” Luke said as he helped himself to a second stack of pancakes.
“It doesn’t matter how long it takes if you get what we need,” Belinda replied.
“I’d feel better about going off and leaving you here if Junior had been able to find out who forced you off the road last week,” Colette interjected.
Belinda shrugged. “When I made the report, I didn’t really expect Junior to be able to find out anything. I couldn’t give him much information. I’m sure it was just some drunk. Anyway, my car is now fixed and I’ll be just fine.”
A knock on the back door interrupted their breakfast conversation. Belinda got up and answered, surprised to see Roger Eaton. The ranch hand stood, hat in hand, looking ill at ease as he shifted from foot to foot.
“’Morning, Belinda.”
“Good morning, Roger. What’s up?” It was rare for one of the hands to come to the house unless something was wrong.
“I was wondering if I could talk to you and your sisters about something…it’s pretty important.”
The early morning sun glinted off his blond hair and emphasized dark circles beneath his eyes. A sudden apprehension rippled through Belinda as she felt the tension that radiated from him.
“Come in. We were just having breakfast.” Belinda opened the door to allow him entry into the large kitchen. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” She gestured to an empty chair near the table, but he shook his head and remained standing.
“No, thanks.” Again he shifted from foot to foot as they all looked at him.
“I hope you aren’t going to quit on me, Roger,” Abby said. “I know things have been sort of rough around here lately, but you’ve been one of our best workers for the past couple of months.”
; “No…that’s not why I’m here.” He smoothed his thick, blond mustache with two fingers. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it right out.” He looked first at Abby, then at Colette, and finally at Belinda. “I’m here to find out which one of you is my half-sister.”
There was a long moment of stunned silence. Belinda felt as if she’d been sucker punched by Roger’s words. She suddenly remembered a moonlit night long ago when three little girls had pledged their sisterhood and agreed to never find out which of them might be adopted. As she looked at her sisters, she knew they were also remembering that distant night.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Abby said. “You’d better sit down, Roger, and tell us what you’re talking about.”
Roger nodded and sat in the chair Belinda had indicated moments before. “My name isn’t really Roger Eaton. It’s Roger Whinnert. My father is James Whinnert.” He paused a moment to allow that information to sink in. James Whinnert was a wellrespected senator for the state of Montana.
He smoothed his mustache again, then reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. He opened it and took out a driver’s license and a newspaper clipping. He unfolded the clipping and handed it and the license to Belinda.
She took them from him, her mind whirling with questions and emotions too deep, too confused, to explore at the moment. The license showed his picture, along with the name Roger Whinnert. The newspaper article was brief, accompanied by a picture of the distinguished gray-haired senator and Roger. Taken at a charity ball, the caption read “Senator and son attend spring gala.” Passing them to Colette, Belinda stared at Roger, somehow knowing in her heart he was about to rip apart the fabric of her family.
“My mother passed away soon after my birth and my father never remarried, but he did have a long relationship with a woman who lived in Washington, D.C. A year ago that woman died, but before she passed, she wrote my father a letter, telling him she’d given birth to his daughter years ago and that the young woman had been adopted. It wasn’t until about five months ago when her estate was settled that a letter was found stating that the girl now lived on the Connor ranch in Wyoming.” He paused, as if giving them a chance to digest each climactic morsel of his story.
Sunrise Vows Page 4