Читать книгу The Consummate Cowboy - Sara Orwig - Страница 10

Two

Zach stared at Emily. Her face paled and she moved closer, brushing against him as she leaned over the bed. He looked from her to his sleeping baby and he knew why she was stunned. The child looked like her child. Two heads of red ringlets caught the light and reflected gold in their depths. Two pairs of eyes were fringed with thick, auburn lashes. Two straight noses were sprinkled with freckles. And he knew if Rebecca opened her eyes, they would match the green of Emily’s.

Amber had been a natural redhead, but she had always kept her hair dyed blond. And it was straight, bearing little resemblance to Rebecca’s curls.

Zach watched Emily reach out to touch one of those cuds, letting it wind around her finger. He frowned and studied her, remembering the times Amber had played him for a fool with her lying. Did the sister really feel moved by the sight of her niece, or was this some ploy?

She stepped closer, and he wondered whether she was aware of his existence. As he stared at her, he fought a strange battle with his emotions. He didn’t want to soften his feelings toward her. She was Amber’s sister! Yet he couldn’t help feeling less hostile toward her as she stared at Rebecca. Tears glistened in Emily’s eyes, and he watched her swipe her hand across her face.

If she was so moved by the sight of her niece, why hadn’t she written or contacted them? Yet already he knew the answer. Amber kept no ties to anyone. He knew almost nothing about Amber’s family except that the father was in prison for robbery.

He walked to the center of the room and waited until Emily turned from the bed. Her face was pale and her expression was forlorn as if she had just lost something valuable. He had a ridiculous urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her she could stay and get to know Rebecca.

He shook off the impulse. “You can stay here tonight and we’ll take you to your car in the morning,” he said, wondering if even this gesture was a sign that he had lost his wits.

“Oh, no! I don’t want to put you out. It wasn’t that bad a walk. I really don’t mind.”

“We have plenty of room here,” he said, realizing she didn’t want to stay any more than he wanted to have her. “Either you stay or I wake them.”

She bit her lip as if torn and glanced back at Rebecca. “I’ll stay. Please don’t wake them. May I see Jason, too?”

“Sure,” he answered, realizing there were things she probably wanted to know about her sister—things he didn’t want to get into right now.

“Don’t turn the light on in his room. The hall light will be enough,” she said.

“Nothing except bad dreams will wake them. They can sleep through storms, noise, light.” He crossed the hall with her at his side and switched the light on in another small bedroom. Two fuzzy mutts blinked sleepy eyes and wagged their tails.

“The dogs are Tater and Spot.”

Barely noticing the small dogs, Emily crossed the room to a narrow, four-poster bed. She leaned over it and looked at the sleeping three year old. The little boy had a mass of brown ringlets, the same freckled nose, the same pointy chin. Again shocked by the unmistakable resemblance, Emily moved closer, lost in thought.

How could Amber have run away and left them behind? Emily glanced over her shoulder at Zach, who lounged in the doorway and watched her. Was he to blame?

Emily felt a pang. She had never expected to have marriage, a husband, or children in her life. God knows, her family genes should not be passed on to another generation. Or so she had always thought—these two little children carried those genes and they looked sweet, innocent and adorable.

How could Amber have left them? The question tore at Emily again. It had to be Zach. No mother would willingly leave such angels—not even Amber, though she had never taken responsibility for anything in her life.

Zach turned and motioned toward the door. Emily tiptoed out while his boot heels scraped the floor with each step.

“The dogs stay up here?”

“They won’t leave those kids.” He changed the subject. “Let’s get something to drink. I have ice tea, coffee, milk or beer.”

“Tea’s fine,” she said, then lapsed into silence. Zach wanted some answers from her and he knew there were things he should tell her. Sheriff Nunez was a closemouthed, noncommunicative man and must not have said much to her about Amber. Nunez hadn’t even told him everything the police knew. And the sheriff certainly hadn’t mentioned talking to Emily.

Zach switched on the light in the kitchen. As soon as Emily stepped inside, he turned to face her, blocking her path. “Before I get drinks, let’s talk.”

“Sure,” Emily replied, puzzled, wondering whether there was something about Amber she didn’t know. Was he going to tell her?

Zach placed his hands against the wall on each side of her, hemming her in, moving in too close. She could feel the warmth of his body, smell his hair. The determination in his eyes made her want to duck and run.

“You said you came looking for your sister. I think you ought to tell me more about it. Amber could be involved in anything with anybody. She wasn’t very discriminating. You may be in danger, too. You may have led someone to us and put us both in danger.”

Startled by his remarks, Emily frowned. “You’re standing too close.”

“Yeah, I am. I want some answers from you.” His direct gaze disturbed her, and she was again acutely conscious of him. The urge increased to push past him, but there was a forcefulness about him that held her immobile. And something more held her in place; her heart raced with a visceral awareness of his appeal as a male.

“I don’t see how I can be in danger or bring any jeopardy to you. No one is interested in me. And if someone is after my sister, I haven’t had any contact with her since the one phone call—and no one could know about that.” Emily answered in a clipped tone, annoyed that she was responding to him in an elemental way.

Zach gazed down into thickly lashed green eyes that were wide and guileless. He had told himself over and over to stay out of her problems. He didn’t need more worries. He had the children’s safety to think about. He didn’t need to take someone else under his wing. And never would he want to be involved with anyone who had the slightest connection to Amber. Stop questioning her, he scolded himself. Take the woman to her car in the morning, get her to the nearest motel and tell her goodbye.

And maybe he had developed a gut instinct for trouble. Somehow he felt she might jeopardize his life and the children’s. If Amber was involved with the wrong people, Emily could place herself in peril by asking questions about her sister. He didn’t want any part of the problem. He had no interest in seeing Amber again. He was starting to get his own life together, trying to get some stability into the lives of the kids. The last thing he needed was to bring danger to them. He looked down into innocent eyes and caught a scent of lilacs and spring flowers.

“I have to try to find Amber,” she said.

“You could get hurt badly—” he seemed to have a thought “—when did you get here?”

“I took time off work and drove. This afternoon I arrived in San Luis, met with Sheriff Nunez and talked to people in town. Why?”

“I just wanted to know who you’ve talked to, what you might have stirred up. If someone was following you, you wouldn’t know it.”

“Why would anyone follow me?”

“You don’t know what your sister was involved in.”

“No, I don’t.”

Satisfied with her answers, he moved away and got a pitcher of tea from the fridge. He poured it over ice in a tall glass and handed it to her. “Sugar or lemon?”

“No, thanks,” she answered in a subdued voice, watching him warily. He knew she was afraid of him and that suited him fine. He didn’t want to get too close to her. Drink a beer and go to bed and get rid of her in the morning, he silently told himself again.

But should he tell her about Jason? It was only a matter of time until she learned the truth.

Zach uncapped the beer, grabbed a chair and sat down facing her. She wasn’t the knockout beauty her sister was, but Emily was pretty. And she was sexy. He suspected she didn’t realize the latter, but he could feel electricity between them when he got close to her.

Amber had been incredibly sexy, but she had known it and flaunted it. He remembered seeing her last week in the bar in her low-cut, clinging red blouse, dyed blond hair piled high on her head, pouty lips. No man would forget her. Damn few could resist her. Heaven knows, he hadn’t been able to. But that was a long time ago.

He took a drink and then lowered the bottle, glancing across the table into Emily’s eyes. He was ensnared. She didn’t have the faintest idea how to search for her missing sister, and she didn’t seem to believe him about the danger.

Leave it alone, he reminded himself. Yet her eyes were focused on him with an intentness that made him uneasy. She might get hurt and that worried him—and it annoyed the hell out of him that it worried him.

“You’re not married?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Regular guy in your life?”

“No, there’s not.”

“I find that a little hard to believe.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I’m entirely different from my sister. I don’t date a lot. I’m very busy with my work.”

“Where do you work?” he asked, thinking about what she had just told him. She didn’t date, hadn’t dated much. In spite of her direct gaze and sincere tone, he didn’t believe her. She was too poised, attractive and sexy to spend evenings alone.

“I work for Chicago Charities. It’s a privately funded organization that does charity work for families. We provide counseling, handle adoptions, and maintain a home for battered women. We work closely with city agencies.”

Zach stared at her, realizing she had been telling the truth when she insisted that she was different from her sister. Amber could never have held a job like the one Emily just described, nor would Amber want to. He began to see Emily in a whole new light. And he realized how dangerous that might be. The last thing on earth he wanted to feel was an attraction to a relative of Amber’s. His ex-sister-in-law, for Pete’s sake!

“Your title?”

“I’m executive director and I oversee the counseling, decide which families we will help, work on the adoptions, check on the women who are in the shelter. The executive committee and I decide how the money will be dispensed when there is a catastrophe and donations come in.” She added, “I love my work.”

He could imagine her in the kind of job she described. She looked soft, caring. A small light above the sink was the only illumination and it made a halo of her red-gold hair. Locks of it were still pinned to her head, but tendrils had fallen and curled around her face. He imagined all of it free and tumbling loosely over her shoulders.

“What did you do—take a few days off?”

“Yes. I haven’t taken a vacation since I started working there, so I have a lot of time coming—more than I plan to take.”

She looked much younger than Amber, he found himself thinking. At first he would have guessed Emily’s age at about twenty-three, but she had to be older to hold the job she described. He took another drink of beer. Stay out of her problems and get her on her way home, he reminded himself. His gaze swung back to her and worry was plain in her expression as she bit her lip and gazed beyond him.

He needed to avoid her dilemma, to keep to himself—to build a home and a haven. He had a ranch to run. And there was already a crowd. He had the two kids to protect and care for. And there was the retriever he had found near the highway. Plus the two mutts that had been abandoned, and the cat that had appeared from nowhere. He thought about Nessie who stayed with the children. He didn’t need to take another living thing under his roof, especially one so desirable.

“There’s a possibility your sister is with someone of her own choosing. She didn’t act like a frightened woman when I talked to her. Or like a woman on the run.” Before Amber had sat down beside him, he had seen her flirting with other men in the bar. “My advice would be to go home and wait a while. She’ll call. Believe me, she wasn’t frightened that night. Far from it. She was having a good time.” He felt like swearing as Emily’s dainty chin raised defiantly and her eyes blazed with determination.

“I talked to the bartender at the Red Rocket,” she said, “and he gave me a list of names of men who were there that night or who frequent the place. I want to ask them about Amber.” She ran her fingers across her forehead. “Do you have aspirin? My head is pounding.”

He stood and crossed to a cabinet to get a small bottle and bring it back to her. As she shook out two aspirin and took them, he pulled his chair around the table. “Turn around. I’ll massage your neck. Sometimes that works better than aspirin for a headache.”

After a momentary hesitation, she turned her back to him.

He spread his legs and moved his chair close behind her, again catching the faint scent of flowers in her perfume. Wisps of red hair curled against her nape as he began to massage her neck. He could feel the tension in her shoulders. Her bones felt delicate and as he kneaded her shoulders, she leaned her head forward and began to relax. Her flesh beneath his hands was warm and soft. He wanted to touch her, and he knew he was playing with fire by doing so. He removed a remaining pin from her hair and the last locks tumbled down.

She turned to slant him a frown over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Relax,” he said, amused that she was so bristly. “I’m giving you a massage. You feel better already, don’t you?”

She turned around without answering. He worked his hands into her hair, rubbing her scalp, massaging her slender neck. As he stroked her head, he heard a soft murmur from her, and a few minutes later a long, pleased sigh. With every sound of satisfaction she made, he felt his temperature rise. She wiggled slightly beneath his touch, stretching her back.

He worked his hands down her back until she twisted away from him.

“I hurt on my side.”

“From my tackle?” he asked, feeling a stab of guilt for being so rough with her.

“Yes,” she said, touching the ribs on her right side lightly.

“Does it hurt to take a deep breath?”

“A little.”

“Maybe I should take you to an emergency—”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice becoming softer as his hands moved across her shoulders and neck. “That does feel good. And the aspirin is working.”

“Good,” he said. She was responding to his massage like a cat being stroked. What would it be like to kiss her? he wondered. The moment the question arose, he closed his mind to speculation. Stay away from the lady, he silently reprimanded. He ought to get up, move and put the table between them. Instead, he continued to massage her slender shoulders even while silently lecturing himself on the dangers of becoming involved.

“Do you have the list of names you got from the bartender?”

Shifting to one side, she pulled a paper out of her jeans hip pocket. He couldn’t help noticing the material pulled tautly across her round backside. He took the list she handed to him. Spreading it on the table, he looked at the neat printing. As he went back to massaging her neck, he scanned the page and frowned. “I know a few of these men. Some are trouble. Two are ex-cons. You ought to leave them alone.”

“It’s the only lead I have to her. Besides you.” She moved away and turned her chair, twisting to face him. “You can stop now.”

He wanted to keep on touching her. He was so caught up in kids and day-to-day ranch life that he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been alone with an appealing woman. The last time he’d been close to one, touched one. Too damn long and too dangerous to think about now.

“Thanks so much. I feel better,” she added.

“Always happy to oblige a lady,” he answered lightly.

Her eyes twinkled, and she flashed him a smile. Startled by the change in her, he was dazzled. She had a dimple in her left cheek, and for just a moment worry vanished from her expression. It was like a flash of sunshine on the cloudiest day, and he warmed to it instinctively. “So your opinion of me has improved a notch,” she said in a teasing voice.

He couldn’t resist leaning closer and looking directly into her eyes. “It’s improved enough to scare the hell out of me. Your job is impressive,” he added quickly, wanting to change the subject after his blunt, truthful answer to her. “You’re here searching for your sister, which is more than she would do if you had called her.” He moved to the other side of the table again, feeling he needed the barrier between them.

“I have to do what I have to do. I haven’t ever been able to ignore my family. Someone has to look after them.”

He wondered about her because she seemed exactly what she professed to be—a woman entirely different from Amber. Yet there had to be similarities. His thoughts slid to Jason. He needed to tell Emily about Jason, but that was a subject he had never liked to discuss. “Keep in mind that your sister could have left the Red Rocket with some man and be in California or Mexico by now. I still think you ought to go home and leave the search to the lawmen. Or hire a P.L”

“I can’t do that. I can’t sit idly by. I’ve always stood by my family. Someone has to.”

He felt another clash of wills. Anger pierced him. He reached across the table and retrieved his beer, tilting it to take a drink. He looked at her full lips. She said she didn’t date often. What did the woman do—hibernate? Whatever she did, she needed to go home now.

“Don’t go see those men.”

“I’m not accustomed to taking orders from strangers,” Emily replied, annoyed with his dictatorial attitude.

“Maybe you don’t like taking orders from anybody. You could easily put yourself in jeopardy. You’re out of your element in this part of the country.”

“I suppose I am, but I need to get some answers. And that includes questions about you.” Emily wondered about Zach and his ranch. Sheriff Nunez said Zach had inherited his ranch, which meant his family had roots in the area that went way back. He was no stranger to the people here, so why the reclusiveness? She thought about the locked gates and barbed wire and chain-link fencing, and about his standoffishness with neighbors.

“Why are you locked in? Isn’t that a little unusual for a rancher?”

“It gives me a feeling of security with the kids.”

She wondered about his answer—which really wasn’t an answer. The man seemed shut in his own world with a high fence around himself. Was he hiding from something—or someone? Emily started to ask him.

A small cry came from the doorway and they turned. Rebecca stood in the door, a tear on her cheek, her eyes sleep-filled and her expression forlorn. She wore pink pajamas with lace trim and teddy bears dancing over them, and her small feet were bare. She held a worn teddy in her arms and pulled a frayed, small blanket behind her. “Daddy?” Her lower lip was thrust out.

“Come here, baby,” Zach said softly, and she crossed the room to him.

Her question forgotten, Emily stared at Zach, amazed by the transformation in him. All the harshness about him seemed to fall away. He softened into a gentle, appealing man as he spoke tenderly to the little girl. At that moment he looked completely trustworthy and gentle. And vulnerable. Then he glanced around, and she looked into his dark eyes—and the feeling of danger returned. His shuttered look made her feel that he wanted to be alone.

Emily’s gaze went to Rebecca and she was again astounded. She could see a resemblance to her own childhood pictures, a resemblance to herself now. If Rebecca saw any similarity, it was of no significance to her. She glanced briefly at Emily, then went straight to Zach and reached up. He swung her into his lap and she snuggled against him while he cradled her in his arms.

“Did you have a dream?”

She nodded.

“We have company, Rebecca. This is your Aunt Emily. Aunt Emily, this is Rebecca, who is now four years old.”

Rebecca looked around and Emily felt the direct, assessing stare of the child.

Emily smiled. “Hi, Rebecca,” she said softly.

Rebecca blinked, tightened her lips, and turned her head against Zach, burying her face against his chest. She pulled her blanket up to hold it close.

Zach stroked her hair gently, and Emily was amazed again by the change in him. She was beginning to wonder what had possessed him to many Amber, but then all she had to do was think about Amber. Men were always dazzled by her. All men. Zach looked as red-blooded as they came.

“Sometimes she has bad dreams,” he said quietly, his breath blowing against wisps of Rebecca’s red curls.

“What do you do about the children during the day when you work?”

“I hired a woman to help with the kids. She lives in a small house on the ranch. During the week and on Saturday morning she stays until I get home. Vanessa Galban. The kids call her Nessie.”

“Then do you take care of them on Saturdays and Sundays?”

“Don’t sound so amazed.”

Embarrassed, she shrugged and looked down at Rebecca in his arms. “She’s asleep.”

“She’s a restless little sleeper.” He raised his head to look at Emily. “I’ll take her back to her bed. There’s an extra bedroom. You’ll have to wait while I make up the bed, but you can have that room.”

“Just give me the sheets and I’ll make the bed,” Emily said. She stood and carried her glass and his bottle to the counter. “I’ll get the light.”

He shifted Rebecca in his arms and went to check the lock on the back door. He switched on an alarm and then turned to join her.

“You’re careful,” she said.

“Not careful enough. If I had been on my guard, you wouldn’t have gotten so close to the house. I have yard lights, but I stopped bothering to turn them on at night. I’ll go back to it, now.”

“You’re worried about prowlers?”

“You should be more careful,” he said, avoiding an answer to her question and coming to stand only inches from her. She could detect the faint smell of beer on his breath. “You don’t know what your sister is involved in. I still think you should go home to Chicago in the morning.”

“No, I can’t.”

He shook his head and turned for the hallway. “Come on. I’ll put Rebecca in bed and get your sheets.” As he started out of the room, Emily picked up the scrap of paper the bartender had given her, then switched off the kitchen light.

Leaving Emily waiting in the upstairs hall, Zach carried Rebecca to bed. Then he returned to remove sheets from a linen closet, and directed her to a bedroom. Switching on the lights, he moved to the four-poster queen-size bed. Emily glanced around a room that held a hodgepodge of furnishings, a bookcase filled with books, a cedar chest, an armoire, a small chest, and a rocker.

“Unfortunately, this is an old house. There are only two bathrooms here—a small one connecting Becky’s and Jason’s rooms, and a big bathroom connecting my bedroom and this room. You can lock the doors when you’re in it.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure you always do,” he said quietly, looking down at her. Her head came up. He touched the tip of her nose lightly with his finger. “You look like the capable type.”

“I’ve had to be. I’ll make up the bed.”

“Here,” he said, flipping back a comforter. “We can both get it made in half the time.” He snapped a fitted cover over the corner of the bed, while she bent to fit the opposite corner. They worked together efficiently. But she had to make an effort to concentrate on the sheets, and ignore the flex and play of his muscles as he bent and stretched. In minutes the bed was done.

“I’ll get you one of my shirts. It ought to make a good enough nightshirt.”

He strode through the bathroom door and in seconds was back to toss a chambray shirt on the bed. “I think I can find a new toothbrush. It might be a child’s size because I keep extra for the kids. There’s a cabinet in the bathroom with towels and washcloths. Help yourself.” He crossed the room to face her. “It will be bedlam in the morning when the kids are up. For the last time I’ll say it—you should get in your car first thing and go home to Chicago.”

She shook her head.

“Stubborn green eyes,” he said quietly, looking down at her. She stared at him intently, and he felt as if he were sinking in quicksand. With every word he was getting more involved in her life. “If you have to look for her, hire a P.L”

“I have to do this myself. I can’t go home without knowing something, or at least trying my best to find out where she is.”

He shook his head and started toward the bathroom.

“Zach,” Emily said quietly, her curiosity about him returning. “You live behind locked gates and high fences. People in town say you keep to yourself. You have an alarm and yard lights. Are you hiding from someone? Is there anyone who would hurt Amber to get at you?”

Zach clamped his lips together and turned back toward her. She felt her insides tighten, felt a premonition of disaster. She almost wished she could take back her question. He looked grim, as if he were holding in check the smoldering anger she had first seen in his eyes.

“Sooner or later, I knew I would have to tell you.”