by Sheryl Lynn
No mistaking the sadness of his words. Her heart went out to him. “I don’t want to know, Reb. It doesn’t matter.”
His eyes darted, flashing sapphire fire. “Don’t imagine I’m some kind of hero.” His back tensed. “You might feel like you can depend on me, but a couple kisses don’t make me a good guy.”
His rise of temper startled her. She tugged at her coat sleeves and smoothed her hair. Her suspicions about him returned, and loss filled her. She pushed off the boulder. “You must be hungry,” she said. “Let’s go back to the house. Get some lunch and something hot to drink.”
He turned his head slowly. Turbulent emotion darkened his face. “I don’t want to hurt you, Emily. God knows, I don’t want that.”
Behind the words, she heard he was leaving and she’d never see him again for as long as she lived. Maybe he was right to stop before they began. No sense prolonging the agony.
“Emily,” Reb said, “I’m not running out on you.”
“Then what are you doing? What aren’t you telling me?”
He touched her back. She hadn’t heard him rise from the rock. She squeezed her eyelids shut. A gust of cold air heavy with dampness ruffled against her face, making her shiver while filling her nose with the scent of wet pine.
“As long as Tuff is loose, I won’t leave you alone. I’ll help you find whatever he hid.”
She waited, each breath taut and self-conscious, for the but surely to come. When Reb remained silent, she opened her eyes. “With a posse crawling all over the place, is there a chance you’ll get in trouble? Please tell me the truth, Reb. I won’t hold it against you. I promise.”
“I promise you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “The law isn’t my problem.”
She turned slowly. The shotgun held loosely in his right hand reminded her of why they were in the forest and the potential danger they faced every minute until Tuff was taken into custody. Still, all she felt was the pain of impending loss.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Pain swelled within her and lodged in her throat. “I don’t want you to leave.” Ever. Never.
“Ah, Emily.” The words emerged as a sigh. Under the shadow of his broad hat brim, his eyebrows crinkled. His mouth skewed in a rueful grin. “I’m not the man for you. You deserve better than me.”
“What makes you so sure?” Her fingers twitched, struggling against the impulses her body craved. She itched to run her hands over his chest, inside his shirt. To comb his hair with her fingers and feel the coarse heaviness of the raven strands. She wanted his touch, his hands and mouth and legs, reaching for her, holding her, claiming her. “Maybe I’m as bad as Joey says…”
His anger flashed again. “Your brother’s a few bubbles off center.”
She had to agree. Besides, deserving or undeserving, what was the difference in matters of the heart? She dropped her gaze to the pine-straw-covered ground, where stubborn little weeds, bright with tiny star-shaped flowers, grew.
“Even if I’d known Daniel would die so young,” she said carefully, “I would have loved him anyway.
Losing him hurt, it still hurts. But at least I had what I had with him.”
“This isn’t the same thing.” Reb’s voice held a poignant note. “I’m not Daniel. I’m not the man you want. I’m not steady or settled. Or whatever it is you’re imagining.”
But he was lying to her and to himself. The fact that he stood his ground, so close she could count every eyelash and smell the heat on his skin, emphasized his lie. The rough note in his voice and the twist of his eyebrow told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Reckless defiance rose, thrusting its wings, filling her with heady power. “Kiss me again, then tell me you’re not the man I want.”
He shook his head. “You’re a dangerous woman, ma’am.”
“I must be,” she said, lifting her chin. “I sure put a yellow streak down your back.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyebrow relaxed. A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. He caught her chin, holding her fast. Liquid heat filled her veins. The recklessness grew in power, consuming her. Her clothing felt too tight, too restrictive. Her body was too small to contain every emotion roiling within her. He squeezed her lower face gently, his callused hand roughly erotic against her skin. She drowned in his eyes.
Suddenly he tensed.
Before she had time to think or protest, he’d swept her to his side and brought up the shotgun. Snake swift, he chambered a shell with a deadly clack. She stumbled against a tree and caught the rough bark with both hands. In numb fascination she watched him jam the butt against his shoulder.
“Emily?” Joey’s call echoed off the trees. “Reb?”
Reb lowered the shotgun. He cocked back his hat, giving her a smoldering sideways look that sent a tingling along her spine. Down below, iron-shod hooves rang against rock, then footsteps.
“Over here,” she called, watching Reb. She held not the slightest doubt if it had been Tuff instead of Joey climbing the hill, her older brother would be a dead man.
A few minutes later Joey climbed over the rocks. He stopped next to the spring, his breath emerging in long white plumes. The expression on his face freshened Emily’s fear. He looked twenty years older and as hard as the mountains. He settled his grim gaze on a red scrap of cloth marking a bush.
“Do you need Reb?” Emily asked. “We were just coming down to the house for lunch.” She wanted to ask him if he was all right, but obviously he was far from all right.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “I’m going to look for Tuff.”
“Joey, no—”
“I have to. I don’t care what he’s done. They’re going to shoot him. I can’t let them do that. I won’t.”
“He’s dangerous,” Emily said gently. “You can’t interfere with the sheriff’s search. You’ll get hurt.”
“I’ve got no choice. I’ll be back when I find him.” He turned abruptly and headed down the hill.
“Joey!” Slipping on pine cones and rocks, she hurried after him.
By the time she caught up to him, he’d mounted his horse. The saddle was laden with a bedroll and bulging canvas bags. His deer rifle was sheathed in the boot. His poncho and sheepskin coat were tied behind his bedroll.
She caught the horse’s bridle. “No.”
“Let me go.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing. The mountains are full of state police and search parties. Someone could mistake you for Tuff and shoot you. Or even worse, you’ll find Tuff. He won’t care that you’re his brother. He could use you for a hostage. If he doesn’t kill you first.”
“I’ll make him turn himself in.”
Reb materialized silently at her side and he, too, took hold of the horse’s bridle. The big animal flicked his ears and rolled his eyes. “Listen to your sister, Joey,” Reb said calmly.
“I have to find him.” Joey’s mouth turned soft and vulnerable. Moisture trembled on his lower lids. “Don’t you see, they’ll kill him.”
Emily tightened her grip on the bridle. “He’s coming back here.”
“He’s not stupid.” Joey’s face twisted in pain. “He knows you’ll turn him in.”
She licked her lips. It was futile to argue, but she had to try. “Listen to me. Tuft buried a duffel bag up here somewhere. I think it’s full of drugs. He’ll be back to get it.”
“You’re crazy.” Joey looked at Reb as if he expected Reb to call Emily crazy, too.
“Did you tell Tuff I’m searching the forest?” Emily asked. The guilty dart of Joey’s eyes told her he had. “That’s why he escaped, Joey. It’s the only reason he’d take such a chance. You’ve got to stay put,
Joey. Or you could be in danger. Reb, tell him. He’ll listen to you. Please.”
REB SENSED Joey was about to bolt. The kid had returned to the barn and dismounted, but he made no move to unsaddle his horse. Rain had started while they were riding back, and the sky had
darkened, shrouding the land in misty gray. Joey shifted his gaze between the ominous clouds and Reb. With his bloodshot eyes and haggard cheeks, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week. Reb refused to feel sorry for him. Joey didn’t need pity; he needed a reality check.
Reb caught Joey’s shoulder. “No more lies, kid. Not to me, not to yourself.”
“Leave me alone.” A flash of lightning preceded a thunderclap, making Joey jump. The horses nickered nervously. “You don’t know what it’s like around here. People are right out of the last century. They believe in mountain justice. They’ll kill him. I can make him turn himself in, I know I can.”
Reb felt dismayed. He wondered if he’d been this hardheaded at age nineteen. “Listen to me. The reason Tuff wants Emily dead has nothing to do with your grandfather. And you know it. You’ve been lying to me from the start.”
“She killed my Grandpa. She stole the ranch.” Neither Joey’s voice nor his expression held conviction.
“Your grandfather was sick long before Emily came home. He had surgery almost a year before she showed up.”
“He was getting better.”
“You’re lying again. She didn’t steal the ranch, she saved it. Do you know how much money she had when she came here? About a hundred grand. Do you know how much she has left? Less than a fourth of it. She pulled you out of debt and paid your grandfather’s medical bills.”
“She’s lying—”;
“Emily didn’t tell me. It’s all there in black and white if you’d only look. Tuff is the liar. He doesn’t care about you, and he doesn’t care about this ranch. All he cares about is the duffel bag he hid. I doubt if Tuff lost any sleep over the man he may have killed, but he isn’t about to let your sister find that bag. Think about it. Why did he break out of jail?”
Joey said nothing, so Reb continued, “Wake up! He knows exactly what to say to you. Oh, yeah, she’s a killer. Oh, yeah, only good old Tuff can keep her from throwing you off the ranch. He’s using you, Joey, playing you like a puppet.”
Joey struck Reb’s forearm a stinging blow. Reb tightened his jaw and his grip.
“Let me go!” Joey swung with a wild roundhouse, aiming for Reb’s chin.
Reb merely ducked, and Joey stumbled against a stall wall. He sat hard in the dirt, his legs sprawled. The three horses skittered down the aisle, heads high and trailing reins.
“You want to beat me up?” Joey asked, even though Reb hadn’t made a move on him. He slammed a fist against the ground. “Come on, if it’ll make you feel better.”
Reb clamped his hands on his hips. He’d broken his number-one rule: never care. Joey had a lot of growing to do, plenty of mistakes to make before he became a man, but the pain in his dark eyes spoke of a deep-seated decency worth salvaging. “What will make me feel better is for you to listen.”
“You’re sleeping with her,” Joey said, his voice now an octave higher and cracking. “That’s why you believe her. You’re the one getting fooled, not me.”
Joey couldn’t see past his own pain. It’d be easier changing the course of the Mississippi River than changing his mind. Still, Reb felt compelled to try. “Remember when we first talked? Tuff’s blowing smoke, you said. He doesn’t really mean it. But down deep in your heart, you knew he meant it. So you came to me instead of a goof like Pat Nyles. You’re scared for her.”
Joey opened his mouth. A ragged exhalation shook his entire torso.
“Emily had nothing to do with your grandfather’s death. The first stroke damaged his brain.”
“He was getting better,” Joey said.
“I’ve seen the medical records and the autopsy report. Nobody could do anything for him.”
A tear trickled from the corner of Joey’s eye. “He wasn’t supposed to die. He’s all I had.”
Reb lowered himself into a crouch and dangled a hand over his knee. “I know. And you’re angry. You don’t want to believe he was doing right by you when he gave the ranch to Emily. The fact is, you didn’t have the money or the experience. If you inherited, you’d have lost everything.”
“He shouldn’t have left me,” Joey whispered. “I need him and he left me.”
“Nothing I say is going to make you feel better. Only time will do that.”
“Why didn’t Grandpa tell me? Why did he let me think he cut me out of his will?”
“I didn’t know him so I can’t speak for him. All I can tell you is what I see with my own eyes. She loves you. She’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe. Your grandfather must have known it, too.”
Joey pressed his face against his shoulder.
“She’s telling the truth about Tuff.” Reb paused, uncertain about how much he dared tell Joey. Instinct won out; the less Joey knew, the better off he’d be. “Tuff will be back to get the duffel bag. Help us find it.”
“What’s in it?” Joey asked, his words muffled by the awkward angle of his face.
“Whatever it is, he’ll be back. I need you here. Trust me.”
“I did trust you. You said you’d make everything all right. You said you’d help me.”
Reb waited a beat. “But? Why don’t you trust me now?”
“Her,” he growled between his teeth. “You’re sleeping with her.”
“No.”
“You’re in love with her.”
Reb opened his mouth to deny that, too. Except the words refused to form. A twinge of conscience caught him off guard, and he had to look away.
“Jesus,” Joey breathed. “She’s done caught you by the tail. Have you told her the truth? Does she know who you are?”
“I’m not in love with her.” Saying so made Reb’s chest ache. Odd thing. He was a practiced liar; he survived by lying, by being whatever targets desired him to be. Easy lies, skillful lies, lies with enough truth to keep him from tripping himself up.
Lies never hurt him.
Until now.
An idea formed that Emily need never know the truth. She never had to know how he meant to betray her. He’d find the money and disappear, leaving her unharmed in her ignorance. The idea built steam; he began to believe it. He could make it work. He stood upright, looking down at Joey. “She’s a victim in this. The less she knows, the better.”
Joey breathed hard, his gaze gone remote, focused somewhere beyond the barn door. Reb smelled trouble brewing, and it scared him. “Let’s unsaddle the horses,” Reb said. He reached for Jack’s saddle cinch, and Joey began unsaddling the roan mare.
The rain increased, battering the barn’s metal roof like gravel poured from a bucket. The air turned clammy, redolent of wet straw and grass. Perfect weather for a fugitive. The heavy rain and lightning grounded helicopters and made tracking dogs useless. Reb pictured Tuff trudging through the rain, drawing closer to the duffel bag.
Family, Reb thought with a mixture of disgust and disquiet. Since he had no family of his own, the dynamics eluded him. He understood loyalty, but he understood self-preservation better. How could Joey be so blind to his older brother’s behavior? Even more confusing was Emily’s devotion to a dead man’s promise and to a sullen younger brother. He tried to rouse disdain, but felt instead a sense of shame for the empty place inside him. He yearned for someone to fill it.
Reb shook his head to clear the unsettling thoughts as he led Jack into a stall, but the thoughts remained, along with knowing Emily held the power to change him. She could forge a bond with him strong enough to erase the past and make him whole. If he allowed it.
Joey trotted his still-saddled horse to the barn door. He shot Reb a glare and swung onto the saddle.
“Joey!” Reb lurched out of the stall.
“He’s my brother,” the boy said, jerking his hat down low. He spurred his mount and galloped into the driving rain.
As Reb ran to the doorway, Joey spurred his horse through the meadow toward the creek. A shift of wind sent rain against Reb’s face. With a sinking feeling, he knew by the time he saddled his horse, the kid would be long g
one, swallowed by the forest where he had the advantage of knowing every trail.
The screened door slammed, and Emily rushed across the porch. Grasping a post, she watched her brother’s receding form. Reb ran into the rain. By the time he reached the porch, he was soaked. The look on Emily’s face made him feel lower than a worm in a mine shaft.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Her chin trembled. “Other than shooting him in the leg, there’s nothing you could do. He’s stubborn as a Brahma bull and determined to protect Tuff.”
“I’ll go after him.”
“You’ll never find him. He knows these mountains almost as well as Tuff does. Oh, Reb, why won’t he listen to me? What am I going to do?” She pushed away from the post and opened the door. “You best come inside. You’re wet.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “I thought he was listening to me.”
At the sink she rested against the counter. “He’s just like Grandpa. He never listens to anybody. No patience. Always has to be doing something even if it’s wrong.” She lifted her eyes to the telephone. “I can’t even call Claude. He doesn’t have a phone.”
“Will Claude know where to find him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Chances are slim to none that Joey will find Tuff,” Reb said. “We’ve got a better chance of finding him.” The assurances tasted dry and weak as dust. He was frightened for the kid, too. The flat, soulless look he’d once seen in Tuff’s eyes told him the older brother wouldn’t have the slightest sympathy or mercy where Joey was concerned.
They ate a tense, silent lunch. Emily kept staring hopefully at the door as if she expected Joey to appear at any moment. Reb kept his eyes off Emily. Each glimpse of her made him think about family and settling down and the emptiness gnawing his insides. His damp shirt clung icily to his skin, but the cold he felt outside was an inferno compared to the dread building inside him.
“The rain is letting up.” She rose from the table, carrying her plate. “I want to go back out.”
Reb plucked at his damp shirt. “Give me five minutes to change my shirt and grab my poncho.”
By the time they went outside again, the rain had stopped. Wind whistled shrilly over the barn, lowering the temperature. Once inside, they retrieved the broomsticks, and Reb checked the shotgun for moisture inside the barrel.