Page 3
C HAPTER T HREE
D arrin Culhane was checking out a porn site on his desktop computer when he heard the front door open. He closed the screen with a click of the mouse. His wife had returned from shopping.
Moments later, Simone walked into his office and collapsed in the client chair. She looked damp and exhausted, strings of blond hair clinging around her pretty face. Her pregnancy was already beginning to show. The limp yellow sundress she wore was splitting a seam at the waist. Or maybe she was just gaining weight. Darrin hoped not. He couldn’t abide heavy women.
“Did you find what you needed?” he asked her.
She sighed. “The pharmacy didn’t have my antacid pills. I had to settle for Tums. But there was a sale on chocolate fudge ice cream, so I bought two half gallons. I put them in the freezer. Heavens, it’s hot out there!” She fanned herself with a ranching magazine she’d found on the desk. “Oh, I saw Lila’s car parked in front of the restaurant. There’s no mistaking that white Porsche. I can’t believe she could get a brand-new one so soon after her old one was wrecked.”
“It’s called good insurance.” Darrin glanced away, avoiding her gaze. He’d had a hand in the wreckage of his stepmother’s last car. That damned FBI agent had almost nailed him for it. But his mother had used her confession as a bargaining chip to keep her son out of prison.
Then Madeleine had turned out to be not only innocent but dying from a brain tumor. He should have guessed something was wrong from the erratic way she’d been acting. At least when she passed she would leave him with a pile of money. But as long as Lila possessed the house and stables, the money would never be enough.
Especially not for Simone.
“What were you doing while I was out?” she asked.
“I was going over the notes from my mother’s attorneys. I’ll be conferencing with them next week to update the case against Lila.” The paperwork had come up on Darrin’s monitor screen when he clicked out of the porn site.
“Do we have a court date yet?” she asked.
“Not yet. But that’s not up to us. It’s up to the court.”
“Well, can’t you do something?” she demanded. “Talk to the judge. He was a friend of your father’s. Surely he can do you a favor.”
“That isn’t how the system works. There are rules—”
“So bend the rules. You said we would raise our children in that house. You promised me you’d fight to get it for us.”
“I’m trying, Simone. I really am.”
Darrin had tried. But his plan to sabotage Lila’s car and make her death look like an accident had failed and almost gotten him arrested. He’d kept the story from his wife for her own protection as well as his. But at times like this, he was tempted to tell her the truth.
“Well, you’re not trying hard enough.” Simone was on her feet now. “I want to be in that house by the time the baby comes. If we can’t get a court date, then we’ll have to go after Lila. I know she’s sleeping with that no-account horse trainer of hers. If we could catch them at it and threaten to expose her—”
“Do you really think she’d give up the house and stables to protect her reputation? You don’t know Lila. She’d laugh in your face.”
Simone’s breath made a huffing sound. “Well, then, we’ll have to dig a little deeper, won’t we? That FBI man is coming back to take up the murder case again. If we could prove that Lila and her lover conspired to kill your father, they’d be behind bars and the house would be ours. We wouldn’t have to wait for the court.” She tugged her sundress down over the slight bulge of her belly. “We’re going to need help. What about Mariah? She knows everything that goes on in that house. Would she spy on Lila if we asked her to?”
Darrin weighed her words. When it came to proving Lila’s guilt, his wife was like a dog with a bone in its teeth. Most of her suggestions were impractical. This time, however, she might have come up with something.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “Mariah might help us as a favor, especially if we offered to reward her. But she’d be even more willing if my mother asked her. Mother’s bought Mariah’s loyalty over the years. Mariah would do anything for her.”
“So go ahead and call her. Do it now. We don’t know how much longer she’ll be alive, do we?” Simone flounced to the door, where she turned back to face him. “I’m going to get some ice cream before I watch my game show. Do you want some?”
Darrin shook his head. The pressures he was dealing with had triggered a gnawing pain in his gut. Maybe he was getting an ulcer. Ice cream might help. But what he really wanted was a shot of bourbon.
“I mean it, Darrin,” Simone said. “Call your mother now. For all we know, we could be planning her funeral tomorrow.”
And counting our inheritance.
She didn’t say it, but he knew what she was thinking. He was thinking the same thing. When Madeleine passed on, the ranch’s cattle operation, her condo, and her stock investments would be left to her two children. Even after splitting everything with Jasmine, his inheritance would make him comfortably wealthy. But only with the house and stables could he and Simone become the Culhanes , with all the power and prestige the name implied. He knew what had to happen. But why couldn’t Simone let him handle things his way, like a man? The pressure was getting to him.
“Well, don’t just sit there.” She walked back to the desk and hovered over him. “I’m waiting. Go ahead and call her.”
Something snapped in Darrin. He rose partway out of his chair. “Leave me alone!” he snarled. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I can think for myself!”
“Fine. Then stop fiddling around and start thinking! I’m tired of—”
Simone’s words ended in a gasp as his hand came up and slapped the side of her face, hard enough to send her reeling backward.
With a cry, she righted herself and ran from the room.
* * *
Lila had seen the black Chevy SUV pull up to the guest bungalow on the far side of the house. That would be Agent Sam Rafferty, returning for a second try at solving Frank’s murder. Sooner or later he would want to talk with her. That would be the time to tell him about Crystal, her pregnancy, and her possible motive for killing Frank.
But it could wait until tomorrow. This evening, she was still overwrought from the meeting with Frank’s pregnant mistress. And she had yet to confront Roper about his promised decision.
A light had come on in the bungalow. Sam would be settling in. The well-stocked kitchenette had snacks and sodas as well as supplies for the coffeemaker. She would have Mariah send someone out with a meal for him.
Lila wasn’t happy to have the FBI back in her life. If only Madeleine had been found guilty, things would be settled by now and she could move on to fight other battles. But she’d had little choice but to let Sam come back to the ranch. And she still needed to know who’d murdered her husband. Maybe when she did, she’d finally be able to mourn.
At least Sam was soft-spoken and respectful, not like some lawmen Lila had known. But the man was not to be underestimated. His sharp instincts missed nothing. She would need to weigh every word she spoke to him.
After passing through the house, she walked out the back door. Cloaked in evening shadows, the patio was a peaceful refuge. A cool breeze stirred the potted palms and rippled the surface of the pool. Lila sank onto the chaise, leaned back, and released the breath that felt as if she’d been holding it in since morning. The day had been hellish, and it wasn’t over. She still had to deal with Roper.
The stable was dark except for the security lights, but Roper’s pickup truck was still in the parking lot. She would take a moment to rest her tired eyes before she went to look for him.
And then what? What if he wanted to leave? How would she manage without the man who had become her rock? And how would she deal with the truth—that he hadn’t cared enough to stay?
Crickets were chirping in the long grass beyond the fence. Eyes closed, Lila let the soothing sound flow through her. She took deep breaths, willing her tense body to relax. But her thoughts were still jumping like frenzied rabbits from worry to worry. Crystal . . . the lawsuit . . . the FBI . . . the horses . . . and Roper. Roper most of all.
“Boss?” His deep voice jolted her to awareness. She opened her eyes to find him standing over her. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Lila sat up, swung her legs off the chaise, and stood. “Are you saying that I’m still your boss?”
A corner of his mouth twitched in a half smile. “For now, at least. Walk with me.”
His hand brushed the small of her back, guiding her through the patio gate and down toward the pastures, their way lit by the rising moon. The stars were emerging from the dark blanket of the sky. Windmill blades creaked softly, pumping water for the sprinklers that kept the horse paddocks green even in this dry summer.
They walked in silence, Lila on edge, waiting for Roper to speak. From the game farm that bordered the ranch property came the sound of gunshots from a heavy caliber weapon. Their neighbor, Charlie Grishman, collected old, sick, and unwanted exotic animals and charged big money for clients to hunt them on his ranch. Some poor, helpless beast, most likely a former pet or show performer, was dying out there in the darkness.
Lila shuddered. The memory was still raw. The hyena that had killed Million Dollar Baby had also killed a young cowboy. The monster, now dead, had almost surely escaped from Charlie’s compound during a raid by an animal rights group. But Charlie had disavowed any responsibility.
“That evil little man! Every time I hear that gunfire, I feel sick,” she said. “I’d give anything to shut him down. I tried to get Frank to do it, but he didn’t care. As long as Charlie kept his menagerie off our property, Frank was fine with him as a neighbor.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m with you, Boss,” Roper said. “You could take him to court, but if he has a business license, what he does on his own land is perfectly legal.”
They were making polite conversation, putting off the things that needed to be said. Lila had had enough. She was tired of waiting.
At the fence, she turned to face him, her impatience boiling over. “You said you were with me, Roper. But are you really, or do you plan to leave? Stop dragging your feet and tell me what you’ve decided.”
She glared up at him, braced for bad news.
* * *
All day, Roper had been racked by conflict—wanting to be free, to make his own choices, to win if he could. But there were people who needed him—his parents, his sister, and Lila. If he were to leave, she’d be hard put to replace him with a man she could trust. But didn’t he owe something to himself? Didn’t he have the right to seize his dream, no matter who he had to leave behind?
He’d imagined telling her he was leaving. His mind had even rehearsed what he was going to say. But now, as her coppery eyes blazed into his, searing her brand on his soul, Roper faced the truth. A different man might walk away. But he wasn’t that man.
“Damn it, Roper.” Her voice quivered with impatience. “Talk to me—now!”
The dam Roper had built against his emotions trembled and burst, releasing a flood of forbidden yearnings.
Jerking her close, he kissed her, not gently but hungrily. His arms crushed her against him, his mouth bruised her lips. The taste of her, the scent and feel of her, roused his senses to a frenzy. His body burned with the urge to take her. But somehow, he found the wit to mutter, “You’d better stop me now, Lila, or it’ll be too late.”
* * *
“No.” Lila caught fire in his arms, murmuring the words between kisses. “Don’t stop . . . don’t you dare stop.”
She pushed against the hard ridge that pressed her belly, needing him, needing the release he could give her. There was a world of rules and reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this. Right now, none of them mattered.
A small shed, built to shelter the sprinkler controls, stood next to the fence. Roper pulled her into it. The space inside the walls was barely enough to hide them from view, but it was all they had. Driven by a blazing urgency, she unfastened his belt and yanked down the zipper to open his jeans. Her hand found and clasped him. He was rock hard and ready. Wanting him was like wanting air to breathe.
Her slacks and panties dropped around her ankles. She shook one foot loose from its sandal, freeing her legs to wrap his hips. He lifted her against him, using her weight to lower her onto his jutting shaft. She moaned, her head falling back as he filled the hollowness inside her. Her legs pulled him deeper, meeting each thrust. This was what she’d denied herself for as long as she’d known him. And if she burned in hell for it, she wouldn’t be sorry.
Stars swam in her head as the dizzying sensations mounted to a shattering climax. With a cry and a whimper, she spiraled back to earth.
That was when he withdrew, turned away, and finished on his own. Her disappointment was tempered with gratitude. He had protected her the one way he could. That was Roper, keeping his presence of mind even as she lost hers.
Still quivering, she sagged against him, resting her head on his chest. He stroked her hair before he spoke. “Get your clothes on, Boss. It’s time we had our talk.”
Lila went rigid. Had he planned this? Was what had just happened his way of saying goodbye?
Without a word, she pulled on her clothes, tucked her shirt in her slacks, and found her missing sandal. For one wild, reckless moment, she’d almost imagined herself in love with Roper. Now she was prepared to hate him.
They stepped outside, the moon so bright that its light was almost harsh. Lila stumbled into a shallow ditch. He steadied her with a hand on her elbow. “My truck,” he said, nodding toward the employee lot.
Fighting angry tears, she let him usher her across the asphalt to where his pickup was parked. He unlocked the passenger door and helped her into the seat, then went around to the driver’s side.
“Spare me the suspense,” she said as he settled beside her. “Just tell me.”
“I’m not going to tell you, Lila,” he said. “I’m going to ask you.”
She gazed ahead, through the windshield, waiting.
“Hear me out,” he said, speaking to her profile. “When I’ve had my say, you can give me a yes or no. All I’m asking is that you listen.”
“Go ahead.”
He turned toward her in the seat. “You know I want to win the Run for a Million. And you know how I feel about using a thirteen-year-old stallion.”
“Yes. We’ve been through all that before.”
“Chet Barr is willing to lend me Fire Dance. In the morning, I plan to call Chet and tell him I want to use the horse—but I want to train with him here.”
“Here?” Lila’s pulse raced. So Roper might not be leaving after all. But he already knew how she felt about donating stable space, food, care, and arena time to someone else’s horse—especially if she had no stake in a win.
Was that why he’d made love to her? To soften her up for a favor? Lila seethed as the lingering pleasure faded. She didn’t want to believe Roper was taking advantage of her. But that was how it appeared. It was time to get tough.
“I want to be fair with you, Boss,” he said. “If you let me train here, I’ll still be able to do my regular work. I’ll pay you a boarding fee for the horse and extra for his arena time, so you shouldn’t be out anything for his keep. Does that sound all right?”
She gave him a stern look. “Maybe. But only if you don’t win. You say you want to be fair with me. Fine. If you finish in the money, I want a cut of your share.”
Roper gave a low whistle. “You drive a hard bargain, lady.”
“I’m not a lady, I’m your boss,” Lila said. “If you win, I’ll take twenty-five percent of your prize.”
Lila could see him doing the math in his head. If he were to win the Run for a Million, his share would be $500,000. One-quarter of that amount would be $125,000. It was a lot of money. But if she’d been a man and had demanded that much, Roper wouldn’t have been surprised.
“Another thing,” she said. “That little tangle back in the sprinkler shed—as far as you’re concerned, it never happened. And it’s never going to happen again. You can take it, or you can leave it and pack your gear. Let me know your final decision in the morning, after you’ve talked to Chet Barr. Maybe he’ll give you a better deal.”
With those words, Lila opened the door of the truck, slipped to the ground, and closed it behind her. As she strode toward the house, she forced herself not to look back. Her hands had begun to shake.
Maybe she’d pushed him too far. What would she do if Roper left rather than give in to her demands?
But she already knew the answer to that question. She would grow up. Frank was gone, and she was on her own. She couldn’t depend on a man, not even Roper, to rescue her and take charge—especially now, with so many things at stake.
Roper was her employee, not her partner and not her lover. If he thought he could manipulate her, the man had a lot to learn. She had asked for no more than she deserved. He would play by her rules or go his own way—and if he did, fine. She would carry on without him.
As she neared the back door, thoughts of those stolen moments in the shed swept over her—his mouth plundering hers, her legs wrapping his hips. She forced the memory from her mind. When she faced Roper again, she would pretend that nothing had happened between them. She could only hope that he would do the same.
Otherwise, how could they go on working together? Maybe it would be better for them both if he left.
The kitchen lights were on, but there was no sign of Mariah, which was odd. Never mind, Lila had other concerns. She turned the lights off, then went upstairs to her room.
* * *
Roper drove out through the employee gate and turned onto the main road. Tires spat gravel as he headed for home, driving a little too fast. All he wanted was to get someplace where he could sort out his churning thoughts.
A jackrabbit bounded through his headlights. He swerved onto the shoulder and slammed on the brakes, barely missing the animal. The truck screeched to a stop inches from the edge of a steep-sided bar ditch.
With the rabbit flashing off into the dark, Roper switched off the engine and sank back into the seat. As his racing pulse began to slow, the encounter with Lila unspooled in his memory. He had never planned to make love to her. But at the end of a frustrating day, his restraint had snapped.
He wanted to stay. He liked being close to the family that needed him. He especially liked being in charge and the pay that came with the job—better than he could expect at a new ranch. Even Lila’s demand for a cut of his winnings was hardly a concern. Sixteen of the best riders in the world would be competing in the Run for a Million. Roper had tried to convince himself that he could win. But even on a top horse, the truth was he’d be doing well to make a respectable showing.
The trouble was with Lila. After what had happened tonight, how could they go back to their former relationship, which had worked as long as they hadn’t crossed forbidden lines? How could they work together now that those lines no longer existed?
Roper started the truck, then pulled back onto the road. In the distance, he could see the lights of the McKenna ranch. His younger siblings would be home for a few more days. Then they’d be back on the rodeo circuit. Would Cheyenne be going with them? That remained to be seen.
He drove over the creek bridge and through the gate, looking forward to his mother’s cooking and the sight of the four young faces around the table. Instead, he pulled up to the house to find Rachel, Stetson, Chance, and Cheyenne waiting for him on the porch. One look at their faces was enough to tell Roper something was wrong.
Kirby, in his wheelchair, was visible in the doorway. The dog crouched at his feet. There was no sign of Rowdy.
Dread tightened its grip as Roper climbed out of the truck. Cheyenne flew down the steps to meet him.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Roper.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Rowdy’s in jail. He was arrested in town for cocaine possession. Mom is fit to be tied.”
Roper released a breath. He’d feared some kind of awful accident. At least his brother was unhurt. But the boy could be in serious trouble.
Roper glanced up at his mother. Rachel stood ramrod straight between her sons. Her expression could have been chiseled in stone. She’d prided herself on raising her children by the Good Book. Rowdy’s arrest would be a bitter pill for her to swallow.
Beside her, Stetson stirred uneasily. Chance’s gaze was fixed on his boots. The two had probably been chastised for not keeping their brother in line. But something told Roper they weren’t surprised. If Cheyenne knew about Rowdy’s drug use, the others surely did, too.
Roper knew they’d been waiting for him to get home. As the firstborn, it would be up to him to handle the situation.
“Say the word, and I’ll go,” he told his mother. “If Rowdy’s bail has been set, my credit card should be enough to cover it and get him out of jail. If not, at least he’ll know we’re here for him.”
Rachel was dry-eyed, her expression still frozen. “Fine. Get him if he’s ready,” she said. “But don’t be too easy on the boy, Roper. Folks around here might not give us the time of day because we’re not rich. But I’ve always been able to hold my head up because I’ve raised a God-fearing family. When word of this gets around, they’ll click their tongues, look down their prissy noses, and call us trash. Rowdy has disgraced the family name, and I want to make sure he knows it.”
Tired as he was, Roper climbed back into the truck and headed for Willow Bend. His young brother deserved to have a strip taken out of his hide. But Roper, who’d battled alcoholism in his younger years, knew what a powerful enemy addiction could be. Rowdy was going to need support just as much as punishment.
At least one thing was settled. Roper couldn’t desert his family at a time like this. Tomorrow he would accept Lila’s terms, arrange for the stallion’s transfer to the Culhane Ranch, and try to make the best of a touchy situation.
A low, white stucco building housed the county offices, the police station, the court, and the jail. Roper parked in the visitor lot and accessed the jail by the rear entrance. The facility was small and showing signs of long use. Its open-barred cells were partly visible through a door that opened off the waiting area.
When Roper gave his brother’s name to the uniformed woman behind the counter, she nodded. “You can see him, Mr. McKenna, but there’ll be a short wait. We only allow one visitor at a time back to the cells. There are two people ahead of you.”
“Is there any chance I can pay his bail and take him home tonight?” Roper asked.
“I’m afraid not. His bail hearing will be held tomorrow morning. Then, depending on the judge, you can make the arrangements. Please sign the registry, then have a seat. You’ll be called when it’s your turn.”
Worn Naugahyde chairs in neon colors were arranged around the small waiting area. After a brief security pat down, Roper chose one at random and sat down. The next person ahead of him—a young woman leafing through a tattered copy of People magazine, was seated on the opposite side of the room. She was extraordinarily pretty and petite, with doll-like features and a cloud of dark hair. She was dressed in a black motorcycle jacket, tight-fitting jeans, and high-heeled black boots.
Roper tried to avoid looking directly at her, but he couldn’t help noticing the hands that held the magazine—the long crimson nails, probably fake, and the glittering rings that adorned her fingers.
Something stirred in a shadowed recess of his memory. He could have sworn that he’d never laid eyes on the girl before. But the sense of recognition was as unmistakable as it was mysterious.
He might have opened a conversation with her, maybe asked if they’d met somewhere before, but that would sound like a pickup line. The girl was attractive but not his type, and he wasn’t looking for company.
As if she’d felt his curious gaze, she looked up from the magazine and gave him a melting smile, which made her face appear even prettier. The situation had become awkward. Should he speak? Maybe smile back?
Roper was saved from a response by the previous visitor to the cells—a thin bespectacled stranger who had the look and demeanor of a lawyer. He passed through the waiting area and out through the exit without a word or glance in either direction.
“Miss Carter.” The female officer at the desk spoke. “You’re next. You may go in now.”
The girl put down the magazine, stood, and took a moment to fluff her hair, as if she wanted to make an impression. Maybe she had a boyfriend in there. But he knew that was none of his business. As she strutted down the hall in her high-heeled boots, he settled back to wait his turn.