Samantha James (32 page)

“I remember.”
^-
Kane’s eyes never strayed from the other man’s face.

Rusty swallowed. “Look, Kane, for what it’s worth, I never believed -you killed Lorelei. Any fool could see how it was between you two. Hell, a man doesn’t shoot his own wife when he’s crazy in love.”

Crazy in love
. The words made Kane’s heart squeeze. He’d loved Lorelei, yes. But not the way he loved Abby …

Rusty’s gaze never faltered. Kane felt the tight coil of tension within him begin to unwind. Trust didn’t come easy after so long, yet instinct told him Rusty hadn’t changed—Rusty had been one of the few who had clamored for his release from jail.

Kane slowly extended his hand. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “We were friends once. I’d like it if we could be again.”

Rusty released a pent-up breath and seized his hand in a hearty grip. His wide grin lasted only an instant, though.

He shook his head, his expression somber. “I gotta tell you, Kane, you took a hell of a chance comin’ back here. That beard hides a lot, but there’s still a few folks might remember you.”

Kane’s tone was as hard as his features. “I came back to clear my name. I won’t leave until it’s done.”

Rusty rubbed his jaw. “It won’t be easy,” he ventured. “I asked a lot of questions when you were sittin’ in jail and got nowheres. Seems to me the only way. to clear your name is to find out who really killed Lorelei.”

“My idea exactly,” Kane said grimly.

Rusty gave him a long, slow look. “Say, why don’t you come back to my place? Mary Beth and I don’t have an extra bed, but if you don’t mind a few chickens scratchin’ around, you can bunk out in the barn.”

Kane raised his brows. “Mary Beth?”

Rusty beamed. “My wife,” he said proudly. “Been married a year now. Bought ourselves some land just west of town.” He grinned. “You’re lookin’ at a farmer now, but we hope to buy a few head of cattle next year.”

So Rusty had a wife now. Kane wasn’t surprised; Rusty was an amicable, likeable fellow. But the threat of being caught again was very real. He might well be putting Rusty and his wife in harm’s way as well.

“I don’t know,” Kane said slowly. “It’s mighty generous of you to offer, but I don’t want to put the two of you in danger.”

Rusty flashed a grin again. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, this way you’ll have a chance to think things through, without worrying about some damn fool finding out who you are before you’re ready for it.”

Kane took off his hat and thrust his fingers through his hair. “All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “But just for tonight.”

An hour later he found himself in Rusty’s kitchen, scraping the last of a mouth-wateringly delicious beef stew from his plate. He swallowed appreciatively. His gaze lifted to the diminutive dark-haired woman who was Rusty’s wife.

He laid down his fork and smiled across at her. “Best meal I’ve had in years, ma’am.”

Mary Beth flushed with pleasure. She was plump and rosy-cheeked, and it was readily apparent there would soon be an addition to the family.

Rusty scraped his chair back. He piled the empty plates together and carried them to the washtub. “I’ll see to those later,” he said firmly. “You’re supposed to rest whenever you can, but if I know you, you’ve been on your feet since sunup.”

Mary Beth sighed. “Sometimes,’’ she scolded gently, “you know me a little too well.”

Kane refilled his coffee cup. “When’s the baby due?” he asked.

Rusty resumed his seat next to Mary Beth. He reached out to pat her round belly with a familiar hand. “This little rooster’s about to hatch any day now,” he said with a chuckle.

Mary Beth swatted his hand away. “A rooster? Who’s to say it’s not a hen?”

Rusty’s expression softened. He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “You know I don’t much care either way, as long as you’re both all right.”

Kane deliberately averted his eyes. An odd sensation knotted around his chest. Rusty and Mary Beth were obviously very much in love, and didn’t care who knew it. A knife-like pain spliced through him. That, he realized, was what he wanted for himself and Abby. A home, filled with love and warmth. And like Rusty and Mary Beth, the chance to have a baby of their own …

His mind came to a skidding halt.
A baby
. Kane’s palms grew clammy. That was something he hadn’t considered—and he knew damn well Abby hadn’t. Lord God, she might even now be carrying his baby …

Christ! Maybe he’d been wrong to leave. But he wanted his life back. He wanted his name back. He wanted the chance to live his life without constantly looking over his shoulder.

He was only half-aware of excusing himself. Outside on the porch, he dragged in a lungful of stinging night air, trying to clear his spinning thoughts. Was this a fool’s errand after all? The only way to clear his name was to find Lorelei’s murderer. And how the hell was he supposed to do that? He had no idea where to begin. Lorelei had had no enemies that he’d known of. He’d discounted robbery long, ago; there had been nothing missing from the house.

Rusty joined him out on the porch a few minutes later. Kane stared up at the inky night sky. “What happened after I escaped?” he asked quietly.

Rusty let out a long breath. “It’s been so long now, it’s hard to remember,” he admitted. “Seems like there was a big uproar for a couple of days.”

“Led by anybody in particular?”

“Not as I recall,” Rusty began. All at once he stopped short. “No,” he said slowly. “No, that’s not right. There was somebody who was pretty vocal about Sheriff Keenan sending out a posse.”

Kane grimaced. “The sheriff never liked me to begin with. He was damned eager to see me strung up.”

“Oh, he was a mean-spirited coot if there ever was,” Rusty agreed. He was silent for a moment, then suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Allan Mason, that’s who it was. He’s the one who insisted the sheriff send out a posse—even went along, as I recall.”

Allan Mason. There was an elusive tug deep in Kane’s brain. Allan Mason had been Lorelei’s attorney.

Kane was silent for a moment. “I rode past the ranch on my way in. Looks like it’s been kept up pretty well.” He paused. “What happened to it once I was gone?”

“It was put up for auction and sold to the highest bidder.” Rusty’s features were grim. “And I’ll give you one guess as to who that was.” He stared at Kane expectantly.

The pieces began to fit together … Suddenly it all made perfect sense … “Christ! Don’t tell me it was Allan Mason.”

Rusty nodded. “Never thought about it before, but it’s a hell of a coincidence.”

Kane cursed himself for a fool. Lord, he should have known. But at the time, all that mattered was finding a way to stay alive …

His laugh was harsh. “More than a coincidence, I’d say. I remember Lorelei rode into town to see Mason just a few days before she was killed. Said. she planned to have my name added to the title for the ranch. Hell, that was even used as evidence against me!”

Rusty rubbed his chin. “You know what I think? I think maybe Mason decided to get rid of her, and lay the blame on you so’s he could buy himself her ranch—and dirt cheap, too, from what I heard!”

“You’re probably right. But how the hell am I supposed to prove it? Nobody believed me four years ago—they thought I was just a drifter lucky enough to marry the boss, and then got rid of her so I could get my hands on her ranch.” He moved down the stairs, then paced in a tight circle.

“Allan Mason is a goddamned saint in this town. Who the hell would believe me over him?” He kicked savagely at the dust. “1 don’t have a damned thing to go on! It would be Mason’s word against mine.”

“But if the sheriff were to hear it for himself—”

Kane’s hp curled. “The sheriff! Hell, if I show up on his doorstep he’ll string me up in the near est tree!”

Rusty shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said softly. “No, I don’t think so at all.”

Kane shot him a venomous glare. “Man, you’re loco! You know damn well he would!”

The merest hint of a smile lurked on Rusty’s mouth. “No,” he stated calmly. “You see, Keenan’s dead. And the sheriff who took his place just happens to be my brother-in-law …”

Saturday nights at the ranch were always quiet as a tomb. Most of the ranch hands rode into town to spend their hard-earned money drinking, playing poker and whoring. It would be morning before they staggered back to the bunkhouse, smelly and still half-drunk, many of them broke—but happy as a bee in a field of clover.

Allan Mason had every intention of joining his boys in town, but he was in no hurry. He had learned to take life easy, to snatch at opportunity as it came his way. He strode into his study, a brandy in his hand. A smug smile of satisfaction creased his lips as he eased into the chair behind the wide mahogany desk. He glanced around, admiring the pine-paneled walls, the rich dark furniture.

He leaned back and laced his fingers over a belly given to excess. Behind him, a cool evening breeze fluttered through the curtains at the window. A mirthful laugh erupted. He had more than he’d ever dreamed of … and it had cost him so little! Oh, yes, he gloated, this ranch had been a real steal …

“Maybe,” came a lazy drawl from behind him, “you’d care to share the joke with me.”

Cold steel butted the back of his neck. Mason froze. “What the hell?” he gasped.

Slowly the intruder stepped around him and into the circle of lamplight. Mason gaped as he beheld a face he’d never thought to see again.

“Big of you to keep up the place while I was gone, Mason. Looks like you’ve kept things real nice.”

Mason swallowed. “You’re a fool to come back here, Kane. There’s a noose in town just waiting to stretch your neck.”

Kane just smiled, a smile that made Mason’s blood run cold. “You’re already wanted for one murder, Kane. Do you really want to make it two?”

“Ah, but we both know I didn’t kill Lorelei. Don’t we, Mason?”

The man said nothing. Kane raised the barrel of his Colt until it was level with his heart. His eyes were glittering shards of onyx. “I won’t ask again, Mason. We both know I didn’t kill her, don’t we?”

Time spun out endlessly. The air was laden with expectancy. For one horrifying moment, Kane feared he had come all this way for nothing—that Mason would refuse to cooperate. But just when he’d nearly given up hope, Mason burst out, “All right, I—I’ll tell you. I know you didn’t kill Lorelei.”

Kane’s gaze narrowed. “It was you, wasn’t it? You killed her—or did you have someone else do it for you?”

“It was me,” he admitted, his voice very low.

More than anything Kane wanted to reach across the desk and curl his fingers around Mason’s pudgy neck. With an effort he restrained his fury. “Speak up, Mason. I can’t hear you.”

“It was me.”

“Louder.”

“I just told you, it was me! I killed her—I shot Lorelei! Now just—just put away the gun!”

Kane’s fingers unclenched around the handle of his Colt. He had to force himself to slide the weapon back into its holster.

“Just to set the record straight, I’d like to know why.”

The immediate threat to his life now removed, Mason’s eyes blazed. “Why? Because she was a fool, that’s why! She could have had me, but she turned to you—a dirty, no-good cowboy—as if I wasn’t good enough for her!”

The stirrings of an old memory resurfaced. Dimly Kane recalled Lorelie telling him that she’d been seeing Mason after Emmett had died. She’d said it was hardly serious, and so it had slipped his mind.

Kane’s expression hardened. “She came to see you about having my name added to hers, so that we were co-owners of the ranch. And her will … She told me she’d changed her will, too, and named me as her heir. That’s when you decided to murder her, didn’t you?”

Mason’s lips drew back over his teeth. “This ranch is worth a fortune! Why should
you
have it—hell, why should she? She proved she was a slut when she let you into her bed. She would never even let me touch her! She didn’t deserve it, any more than she deserved me! Oh, but I showed her,” he taunted. “If I couldn’t have her, I’d damn sure get my hands on her ranch. And then there was you—so much a man you ran like a lily-livered coward.” His gaze slid to the gun Kane had replaced in his holster. “Hell, you’re too much a coward to shoot me now!”

Kane smiled tightly. “Oh, there’s no question I’d like to. But I think the sheriff might have some say-so in what happens to you now.”

“The sheriff,” Mason sneered. “He’ll never believe you. He’ll believe me, just like before.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” proclaimed another voice. “In fact, looks to me like Kane here was tried for a crime he didn’t commit. And I’d say I’ve heard enough to lock you up and see that you’re tried for murder.”

Mason’s eyes bulged. He hadn’t seen the shadowy form that had slipped in through the open window. He leaped to his feet and stared at the sheriff as if he’d been struck dumb.

The sheriff, a lean, raw-boned man with keen blue eyes, pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Yes, indeed, looks like I’d better wire the judge and see about setting a trial date.”

A rush of giddy relief swept through Kane. It was over, he realized. He could finally get on with his life. He was free. Free to go back to Wyoming …

And back to Abby.

A
t first the hurt was more than Abby could stand. She couldn’t believe Kane had cleared out, packed his belongings and left, with no explanation …

With no good-bye.

She remembered vividly the exact moment when she stood in the barn, staring in disbelief at Mid-night’s empty stall. It seemed like yesterday that she had desperately wanted to scream aloud her pain and heartache. But all she could do was weep—silent, scalding tears that made no sound.

Six weeks later there were no more tears left. Her anguish had given way to a bitter resentment.

She experienced a wrench of shame every time she thought of how completely she had given herself to him—how she had held nothing back … In the cold light of day, Abby was under no illusions. Despite the unforgettable night they had shared, she knew he wouldn’t be back. After all, he’d made no promises; nor had he given her any reason to hope he felt the same. Certainly
he
hadn’t been foolish enough to profess undying love.