by Lisa Jackson
“Is—is he—”
“Barely alive! Get out of the way.” Dragging Denver, the paramedics headed for the ambulance. “Hold it, Sam!”
Colton started to follow, but the chief reached him again. “There’s no room in there!”
Wrenching his arm free, Colton whirled on the older man. His teeth bared, his fists clenched, he growled, “That’s my brother, goddamn it, and I don’t know how long he’s gonna live! Get outta my way!”
“Watch that one—maybe shock,” one fireman said to another. “He shouldn’t be driving—”
“Frank, Tom, bring that hose over here. . . .”
The chief turned his attention for a second, and Colton jumped into the cab of Uncle John’s flatbed, twisted the key and tore out after the ambulance.
“Please, God,” Colton whispered in the only prayer he’d ever uttered. “Let him live!”
* * *
Miraculously Denver had survived. After several days in a nearby hospital, Denver had been flown to L.A. to face more than one painful session of plastic surgery. And Colton had taken off. His parents were dead; his brother, emotionally crippled, had gone. There was no reason to stay.
Except for Cassie, he thought now as he glowered at the gleaming new stables. In his grief he’d nearly called her. She’d written a note of sympathy, and he, upon reading her kind words, had torn the note into tiny pieces, only to regret it later. He’d reached for the phone, but knew that he was turning to her in grief, not love.
His heart stone-cold, he’d forced himself to push any loving thoughts of her aside. Though a small part of him still cared, he knew that loving Cassie Aldridge was futile.
Without ever looking back, he had packed his bags and taken off.
And now here he was, he thought grimly. And Cassie was becoming as much of an addiction as she’d been all those years before when he’d met her on the sly, lying to his parents and hers just to have a few stolen moments with her.
“Once a fool, always a fool,” he muttered, slamming his hand against the fence. Pain shot through his shoulder, and he winced. As soon as Denver and Tessa returned, he was out of here. This ranch meant nothing to him. Nothing but the smoldering ashes of a past based on lies and sorrow.
* * *
Cassie grinned as Beth Lassiter Simpson, nearly seven months pregnant, carried a squirming cocker spaniel puppy into the examination room. Beth’s face was framed in soft brown curls. She’d been Cassie’s best friend since high school.
“So this is Webster?” Cassie asked, glancing at the pup’s chart.
“In the flesh.”
“Okay, let’s see how he’s doing.” Cassie took the blond bundle of energy from Beth’s hands and settled him onto the stainless steel scales.
Beth’s four-year-old daughter, Amy, slid into the room. Her hair was a mass of fiery red curls, the skin over her nose sprinkled with tiny freckles. Amy’s huge brown eyes rounded as she stared at Cassie. “You gonna give him a shot?” she asked anxiously.
“A vaccination,” Cassie replied with a grin as she took the dog’s temperature. “He won’t even feel it.”
Amy’s lower lip protruded. “I hate shots.”
“So do I,” Cassie said, recording the pup’s weight and temperature before slipping her stethoscope into her ears. The poor animal was shaking, his heart pounding like a jackhammer.
Throughout the examination Amy watched Cassie suspiciously. When Cassie pulled the flap of skin behind Webster’s neck and slipped the needle beneath the pup’s fur, the little dog didn’t so much as whimper.
But Amy gasped, her chubby hands flying to her eyes. “I can’t look,” she whispered to her mother.
“That’s it!” Cassie tossed the disposable needle into the trash. “He looks great!” She held the puppy out to Amy, who opened one untrusting eye.
“For real?”
“For real! Take him into the reception area. Sandy, the girl behind the desk, might just have a dog biscuit for Webster and a sucker for you.”
“What kind?” Amy asked, already heading for the door.
“Any kind you want.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Amy hauled the wiggling cocker pup through the door.
“You have a way with animals—and kids,” Beth said.
“I like them both,” Cassie admitted. She stuffed her stethoscope into the pocket of her lab coat and leaned against the scales.
Beth grinned. “So do I—most of the time.”
“You’d better,” Cassie replied, glancing pointedly at Beth’s protruding belly.
“Don’t tell me! I already know I’m going to have my hands full.” She gathered up her purse and glanced at Cassie. “I suppose you’ve heard that Denver McLean’s horse is missing.”
Cassie nodded. Beth was the one person other than her father and Colton who knew how much she’d once cared for Colton.
“Colton stopped by yesterday. He was fit to be tied!” Beth declared.
“I know. He seems to think the horse was stolen.”
“You’ve seen him then?”
“Oh, yes,” Cassie said with a small smile.
“He’s even better-looking now.”
“Is he?”
“Didn’t you notice?”
Cassie shrugged, though she’d noticed all right. Who wouldn’t? Even if the man was a bastard, Cassie understood what Beth was trying to say. Colton was still incredibly male, virile and sexy. Cassie compressed her mouth into a tight line, and drew her brows together.
“Who do you think would have the gall to steal Denver’s horse?”
“Who knows?” Cassie replied, thinking again of Colton’s angry accusations. At least it seemed that he hadn’t spouted off to Josh and Beth about her father. “If you ask me, the horse probably just wandered off.”
“Try to convince Colton of that,” Beth teased.
“I have. He didn’t buy it.”
“Well, maybe Black Magic will just turn up like he did last year.”
“I hope so,” Cassie whispered. If the horse showed up again, it would make things so much easier.
“I’ll see you later,” Beth called, collecting her spritely daughter and excited pup in the reception area.
“In just about six months,” Cassie replied.
Beth shook her head. “Let’s not wait that long. We could have a social life that doesn’t revolve around rabies vaccinations, you know. I’ll have you over for lunch before number two is born.”
“And I’ll hold you to it.”
“Good!” Beth grinned, snapping a leash onto Webster’s collar.
“Is that it?” Cassie asked Sandy as the door clicked shut.
“Until tomorrow at nine,” Sandy replied.
Rotating the kinks from her shoulders, Cassie slipped out of her lab coat, threw it in the laundry basket and washed her hands before walking through the labyrinth of metal cages in the back of the clinic.
At the first cage, Cassie bent on one knee and peered inside. The Monroes’ German shepherd was lying listlessly on the floor, recovering from tendon surgery. She slipped her hands into the dog’s cage to pat his broad, graying head. He rolled glazed eyes up at her, and his tongue lolled from his mouth. “Hang in there,” Cassie whispered with an encouraging smile. “You’ll be a new man in the morning.”
She passed several other cages, eyeing the Fullmers’ Siamese cat and the Wilkersons’ pet hamster. Everything was quiet as she turned off the lights.
Outside, lacey clouds gathered over the surrounding hills. An early spring breeze caught in her hair and tossed the bare branches of the old maple near the clinic’s parking lot. Cassie climbed into her car and shoved it into gear.
Her thoughts wandered back to Colton and the empty years when he’d been gone. She’d been devastated, of course, but her father had helped her, and she’d thrown herself into her studies at the university, eventually gaining a partial scholarship to veterinary school.
She’d made friends and dated, but n
ever had she ever let anyone close to her again. She just hadn’t met anyone who held a candle to Colton. “Idiot,” she muttered between clenched teeth.
Why, now? she wondered. Why, after eight years, after enough time had passed that she’d been sure she was over him, did he have to show up?
Chapter Five
Cassie ran the currycomb over Macbeth’s shoulder and was rewarded with a snort and kick that barely missed her shin. “Miserable beast,” she muttered, slapping his rump playfully. She loved Macbeth and his surly temperament. “Okay, go on!” She unsnapped the lead rope, and Macbeth bolted for the far side of the paddock where he promptly lay down and rolled in the dirt beneath a single spruce tree. “Oh, great,” Cassie murmured, seeing her hard work destroyed in an instant.
Long shadows crept across the land, and the sky had turned a dusky blue with the coming of night. “Why do I bother?” Cassie wondered aloud as the horse, his hide dulled by dust and dirt, scrambled to his feet and shook his head.
“You’re wretched, you know that, don’t you?” Cassie laughed as she washed her hands under a faucet near the barn.
She was just wiping her fingers dry on the back of her jeans when she heard the sound of a vehicle thundering down the lane. She didn’t even have to look. She’d been expecting Colton for three days. “Here we go,” she muttered under her breath, bracing herself as the engine died and she spied Colton behind the wheel.
Climbing out of the Jeep, Colton hesitated when he saw her. “Is Ivan home?” he asked, closing the door behind him.
“In the house.”
“Good. I need to talk to him.”
“So you’ve said.”
He cocked one of his roguish brows in amusement. “No arguments from you?”
“Would it change things?”
“No—”
“Then what would be the point?” she countered. “There’s no use wasting my breath.” Without another word she led him through the back door. Ivan was in the living room, scanning the paper. “We’ve got company,” she announced, trying to ignore the fact that her stomach was twisting in knots. Just being in the same room with her father and Colton brought back unwanted memories.
Ivan glanced up, his gaze clashing with Colton’s. With deliberation he laid the paper aside and stood. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said slowly. “Seems as if you’ve been spreading rumors around town about me.”
“I just asked some questions.”
Cassie’s eyes widened. “You’ve been telling people in town that you think Dad is behind Black Magic’s disappearance?”
“Of course not,” Colton said through tight lips as he swung his gaze to her father. “But I did want to find out what you know about it.”
“Nothing,” Ivan snorted.
“The wires were snipped on the fence between your property and mine.”
“Big deal,” Ivan muttered, scowling. “If you’ve come here to accuse me of taking your horse, just do it, get it over with and leave. Or go talk to someone at the sheriff’s department.”
“I already have.”
“And what did he say?”
“Mark Gowan’s checking into things.”
“Good. Then maybe he can clear up the big mystery. But if you ask me, you and your hands just got careless, McLean, and that damned horse of yours wandered off.”
“No way.”
“Then ask Kramer. Wasn’t it his son who started the fire?” Little beads of sweat dotted Ivan’s upper lip, and he was so angry his entire body had begun to shake.
Beneath his beard, Colton blanched. “That’s over.”
“Oh, right. So now you and the Kramers are one big happy family?”
The younger man’s lips thinned. “Careful, Ivan,” he warned.
“Look,” Cassie interjected, “you came over here to say something to Dad. If you’re done accusing, then get down to business, and when you’re finished, leave.”
Colton’s eyes moved from Ivan to Cassie. “All right. Let’s talk about the fence.”
“Cassie says you claim it was cut.”
“It was.”
“And you think I did it.”
“Or know who did.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, McLean,” Ivan growled. Bending near the fireplace, he tossed a mossy log onto the fire in the grate, turned his back on Colton and prodded the log with a poker. “If someone did take your horse, and I’m not saying they did, they must’ve come onto my property through the north gate that leads to the road—the one we use for the hay baler and combine.”
“I know which gate you’re talking about.”
“Good.” Ivan dusted his hands and straightened slowly.
“Why would anyone else go through your land?”
“Ah, motive,” Ivan said, rubbing a crick in his back and glowering. “I suppose I’ve got the best one, don’t I? After all, it was my wife your uncle used, my daughter you dallied with—”
“Enough!” Cassie shouted, the old wounds bleeding.
Colton sucked in a swift breath. He clenched his fists, and he took a step forward before getting a grip on himself. “Let’s leave Cassie out of this,” he said through teeth that barely moved.
“Seems you forget quicker than I do!”
Colton bristled defensively. “What happened between Cassie and me hasn’t got anything to do with this.”
“Bull!”
Colton’s storm-gray eyes darkened with a private agony. Was he still hurting, too? Cassie wondered. But if so, why the witch-hunt?
“You think I would steal your horse, then leave tracks all over my property?” Ivan tossed back. “What do you take me for? I’ve been burned too many times by the likes of you to take a stupid chance like that!”
“I thought you might like to rub it in.”
“Stop it,” Cassie cut in. “Everyone’s had their say.”
Colton slid a glance her way. “So now it’s over, eh?”
Deep inside she quaked and her voice shook. “It’s been over a long time.” She stared straight into his eyes, hoping she didn’t look as vulnerable as she felt.
“Go home, McLean,” Ivan suggested, seeming suddenly tired and worn, “before I lose my patience altogether.”
“I won’t let this lie,” Colton warned.
“Fine, fine, waste your time and your breath,” Ivan suggested. “But don’t waste mine.”
Colton strode out of the house, and Cassie was right on his heels. Too many buried emotions kept churning to the surface, and she couldn’t just watch him leave.
“Your father knows more than he’s willing to tell,” Colton muttered.
“No way.”
“Why not?” He reached the Jeep but didn’t climb inside. Instead he faced her, his expression blank, his eyes guarded.
“My father has nothing to hide, Colton. He’s just an old rancher trying to scratch out a living. He doesn’t have time for junior high pranks.”
“Taking a valuable stallion isn’t a prank! It’s a crime.”
“Go home, Colt.”
But he didn’t move, and his eyes raked over her. “You’ve changed, Cass,” he observed.
“So have you. What happened to you, Colton? Just what happened to you? For months you’ve been holed up in the McLean house like some kind of recluse, and now, now when it looks like you’re finally getting well, you come over here with accusations that just don’t make any sense!”
Colton’s jaw slid to one side. “Maybe I’ve just gotten smarter.”
“Smarter or more bitter?”
“Probably a little of both. But then I have learned a few things in the last eight years.”
“Such as baiting old men and accusing them of lies?” she lashed out.
He gritted his teeth. “I just wanted to hear what Ivan had to say for himself.”
“But you don’t believe him.”
“I’ve heard lies before.”
The vicious words stung like the bite of a snake. “I never
lied to you, Colton, but then you didn’t stick around long enough to find out, did you? You believed what you wanted to believe! That way your conscience was clear!”
“My conscience?” he repeated incredulously as he reached for the door of his Jeep. “My conscience? I was just along for the ride—remember?”
Cassie wished the tears behind her eyes would go away. “What I remember, McLean, is that you ran—away from me, away from any responsibility, away from any ties. For that, I suppose, I should thank you!”
He whirled, and the hand that had been poised over the handle of the Jeep’s door clamped around hers. “I was going to do my duty, Cassie,” he growled, his gray eyes flaring dangerously. “But I wasn’t about to be conned, just like I’m not going to be conned again.”
“I loved you, Colton.”
“You didn’t know the meaning of the word.”
Inside she ached, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep her scars ran. Her throat was thick, her eyes moist, but she held back her tears and tossed her hair out of her face to glare furiously at him. “At least I was with you because I wanted to be—not because of some warped sense of ‘duty’ as you called it!” Her heart was pounding, but she kept her voice cold. “I wanted you and I wanted your child. I cried myself to sleep so many nights, I can’t even remember how many there were, but it’s over. It’s been over a long, long time. So let go of me and go back to your house where you can brood and plot and try to think up paranoid schemes where my father is out to get you!”
He dropped her hand as if it were hot. Some of the color seeped from his face. “That’s twisted.”
She knew he was right, but didn’t let up. She couldn’t. Afraid that he might see through her defenses, she said, “Probably. But then, I had a good teacher.”
His breath hissed between his teeth, and his jaw slackened. “Did I hurt you that much, Cass?”
Her heart turned over, and for an insane instant she wanted to throw her arms around him. Instead, she bit out, “You only hurt me as much as I let you. That was my mistake, not yours.” Then, before she said anything that might betray her true feelings, she stepped back and folded her arms over her chest and didn’t move until he’d driven down the lane and the sound of the Jeep’s engine had faded into the dusky twilight.