Stonebrook Cottage (32 page)

I'll call you in the morning, Governor.

She wasn't taking any chances. She'd wait for that call. Then she'd decide what to do. That was the best way she knew to protect her children. She didn't care what it cost her.

"I don't know anything."

Twenty

S
am's pants had pretty much dried by the time Kara was finally ready to head back to the cottage. It was late afternoon, the heat and humidity getting to everyone but him. Compared to August on the Mexican border, this little Connecticut heat wave failed to impress him. Billie Corrigan had assured him it would blow out this evening. Thunderstorms, she said, were on their way, along with a Canadian cold front.

Henry and Lillian weren't too enthusiastic about spending the night with their mother, but Kara promised them she'd be back first thing in the morning. Sam didn't blame them—Kara's friend or not, their mother the governor was in trouble.

Wally Harrison had slunk out earlier, his ass fired. Sam approved. Not that Hatch Corrigan gave a damn. He and his mother and sister had argued cocktail parties and luminaria out at the pool, then Madeleine abruptly excused herself and slid behind the wheel of a huge, fifteen-year-old Mercedes. She drove herself down the road to visit Pete Jericho, taking him asters she'd picked herself. "I'm not as awful as people think I am," she'd told Sam.

Billie had overheard and laughed. "Yes, she is, but nobody cares. Just don't tell her that."

When Madeleine Stockwell returned from the Jerichos a little while later, she was beside herself. "I thought Charlie wasn't serious, but Bea Jericho
is
getting goats! She told me so herself. What on earth does she want with goats? They'll get out of their pens and come up here and eat my roses."

She was still fuming when Kara emerged from the barn and headed back through the woods with Sam. He told her about the goats, and she laughed, some of the worry going out of her face. "Madeleine wouldn't know what to do with herself if the Jerichos weren't annoying her. They've been more of a constant in her life than any of her husbands."

"Is that part of the reason Allyson is keeping her relationship with Pete under wraps?"

Kara shrugged. "I wish I could tell you. She wouldn't talk to me."

"Tough, isn't it, when you know someone's holding back on you?"

"I had no choice. Henry and Lillian boxed me in—"

"Maybe Allyson has no choice, either."

But Kara didn't like that, and she pushed on through the wildflowers and tall grass, oblivious, he thought, to the heat. A good sign. She was more Texan now than northerner. Then he wondered why he cared, or noticed—his life had been a hell of a lot simpler when Kara Galway was practicing law in Connecticut.

She spun around in a shady spot just into the woods and waited for him. "I can't believe Allyson would dump Pete because it's too complicated to be in love with him. That just doesn't make sense to me."

"It's hard when a love seems forbidden somehow."

Kara gave him a sharp look, as if he'd said something disturbing or profound, or maybe both. Sam ignored it and started along the lane through the woods, his pants legs stiff and smelling of pool water. He'd have gone back to the cottage for a clean pair, but the kids were not to be trusted—they'd have seen an opportunity for more mischief upon his return.

"The kids are better off for getting that story off their chests," he said, glancing at Kara as she came up beside him, matching his pace. "You did right by them. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"No, I was just lucky. Sam, if it
was
Wally in Austin, why didn't he tell anyone? Why didn't he knock on my door and ask me if the kids were there? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on them. What if he followed them from the ranch? Why didn't he stop them from running away in the first place?"

"Good questions."

"You've thought of them, too? I should have called you when Henry and Lillian said they saw him. Well, not
him.
They didn't know who it was, a man in a black sedan, the same guy who slunk around the ranch. I didn't know what to believe."

"Still should have called me."

She made a face. "I just said that."

"Henry and Lillian were scared?"

"Terrified. You know, Wally must have been discreet with everyone while he was in Texas
except
them."

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

Sam thought of the kids konked out in their hammocks, their bony legs hanging over the sides, and he remembered his own mother trying to keep him safe in a rough neighborhood, fashion a life of her own through her work as an art teacher, even as she had to be everything to the son she was raising without a father. He didn't want to be too hard on Allyson Lourdes Stock-well.

The heat and humidity brought out the damp, earthy smells of the woods, as well as more mosquitoes. He started down a long, easy grade, aware of Kara still pondering what he'd said as she walked alongside him. Finally, she took a breath. "Are you thinking Wally deliberately let Henry and Lillian see him? He
wanted
them scared out of their minds?" She shook her head, obviously not able to accept it even as a hypothesis. "That's cruel. There's no good reason for it. You didn't say anything to Hatch, did you? He's furious with Wally as it is—"

"Don't get carried away. It was just a thought."

She scoffed. "You don't just have thoughts, Sergeant Temple. Regular people have thoughts. You think in terms of criminal conspiracies." She frowned up at him. "And your pants are about as stiff as stovepipes. How can you walk?"

He noticed her legs and hips as she crossed the muddy stream, their footprints still visible from their earlier jaunt through the woods. Nothing stiff about her. He winked. "I can't wait to get out of them."

Her brother picked that moment to call on Sam's cell phone.

"Walter Harrison was on a flight that left Austin the same morning my damn sister was stealing my gun and plane in San Antonio," Jack reported. "He dropped off a car rental at the airport."

"Black sedan?"

"Four-door Ford Taurus. He had it for a week. You want to tell me what the hell this is about?"

"At best this guy's a moron," Sam said. "At worst— I don't know."

"Sam?"

He could hear Jack's concern, laced with just enough irritation to remind Sam who was the lieutenant and who was the sergeant. "It's not a good situation up here."

"Get Kara out of there."

"Easier said than done."

"No, it isn't. Knock her on the head and tie her up."

Sam glanced at her and deliberately didn't picture tying her up in case her big brother could read his thoughts.

"Give me the phone." Kara snatched it out of Sam's hand and put it to her ear. "Jack? Everything's under control. Sergeant Temple here is just in full paranoid, suspicious Texas Ranger mode. I'm being the cool, sensible lawyer who sees all sides." She listened a moment, then scowled. "Who put you in charge? Forget it. You're not
my
boss." She tossed the phone back to Sam. "What was I thinking? Your turn."

Jack wasn't finished with Sam, either. "You wouldn't be taking advantage of my sister while she's half out of her head over those kids, would you?"

Sam didn't hesitate. "No, sir."

"I left you wiggle room in that question, didn't I? Sam—Kara is one of the smartest people I know and as cool and professional in a courtroom as you'd ever want to see. You have to have your act together when she's the defending counsel. But when it comes to men…"

Susanna came onto the line. "Jack's done, Sam. I'm going to remind him before we fly up there tomorrow that his sister isn't nine anymore. Who knows, a fling with a Texas Ranger might do Kara good." Jack roared in the background, and Susanna laughed, then told Sam to take care, a note of worry in her voice as she disconnected.

"How long before he shows up?" Kara asked.

"Midafternoon tomorrow, the latest. Susanna's coming with him. Kara, it was Harrison in Austin."

"It was? It just doesn't make sense. Why did he drive off like that? Why didn't he call Hatch?"

"Maybe he did call."

"My head's spinning. We need to tell Zoe West, don't we? She can let the state guys in on our pal Wally. They can talk to him."

Sam nodded. "I'll call her after we get back."

Kara stopped and gazed up at the sky, low gray clouds moving in from the west, then smiled suddenly and cut her eyes around at Sam. "If my brother and his dear and lovely wife aren't showing up until tomorrow, that at least gives us tonight."

"I think that counted as a date," Kara said later, after they'd finished dinner and had the dishes cleaned up and were sitting in the cottage living room, the curtains billowing in a warm breeze that brought with it clouds and the smell of rain. She could almost taste it.

Sam was in a wooden rocker across from her. He'd left a message for Zoe West, asking her to call him on his cell phone, and Kara could tell he wanted to get that conversation over with. She sat on the love seat and picked through one of the boxes Billie Corrigan had left, enjoying the baubles and paints and fun things.

"What?" he said. "Tuna sandwiches for dinner?"

"Sure, and the walk. That's two dates. Chasing after Henry and Lillian this morning doesn't count, and neither does gathering around the patio to hear you tell their story. That was very well done, by the way. You must make a good witness."

"Unflappable," he said.

"Watching you at the pool with the kids almost counts, because I enjoyed it so much, but I think I'd have had to get wet if it was going to count as a date." She felt heat rise to her face. "I mean…"

He smiled. "Kara, where is this leading?"

"To bed, I hope." But the humor went out of her, and she swallowed, feeling a little light-headed. "Allyson says I run from men, and I think she might be right— Sam, I don't want to run from you."

"You can't. I'm a damn good Texas Ranger."

"I lost my mother, Allyson lost her husband—I wonder if it's easier for us just not to put it all on the line, not to risk that kind of loss again. So I run, and she hides…" She looked up, realizing Sam was on his feet, walking toward her. "What are you doing?"

"Well, Miss Kara, I believe I am going to sweep you into my arms and carry you to the bedroom and make mad, passionate love to you all through the night." His eyes flashed with a deep, dangerous desire, and he stood tall in front of her and smiled. "How would that be?"

"That would be fine," she said, and threw back her head, letting him scoop her up and carry her Rhett Butler style down the hall.

She was reminded of old romantic movies, but the urgency and intensity in him soon eradicated all thought of that. He laid her on the bed and began to undress her slowly, unbuttoning her shirt, smoothing it off her shoulders, saying nothing as he paused to gaze at her breasts before unclasping her bra. She couldn't speak, and he eased the straps over her shoulders the way he had her shirt, then skimmed his palms over her nipples. Sensations poured through her, the breeze cool on her hot, bare skin.

"You've done enough talking and thinking for one day," he whispered. "So have I." And when she raised her hands to work on the buttons on his shirt, he smiled. "Not yet."

She stopped, and he moved his palms downward over her stomach, unfastening the button on her shorts, sliding down the zipper. The anticipation shortened her breath, but she could see him pretending not to notice as he drew her shorts down over her hips, leaving her underpants.

"Sam…" She licked her lips and managed to say his name again, before he had her shorts at her ankles and finally cast them off. She lay before him in just her scrap of underpants, sexy little things she'd picked up on a lunch-hour lark, never imagining this moment…or maybe she had.

But he left them, coming to her, whispering her name as he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her slowly, deeply, his tongue mingling with hers, probing, and just when she thought she'd melt, he kissed her throat, skimming his mouth down to her breasts.

He took one nipple between his lips, licking, teasing, then the other, until she threw her arms over her head and moaned softly, and outside the rain came. She smelled its cool wetness as his mouth drifted lower, and he raised up suddenly, casting off his clothes—and it was as if she'd never seen him naked before, his body dark and hard in the glowing light, his erection thrusting, wanting.

She paid attention to every nuance of him, what she was experiencing, feeling, at this moment, refusing to avert her eyes or her mind from any of it. She wouldn't run, not any part of her.

"Kara…I don't want to hurt you…"

"You won't," she said. "You didn't before."

He came back to her, easing his body between her legs, helping them to open to him, to relax at the feel of him there. He caught her panties with his thumbs and pulled them slowly down over her thighs, and when she was fully exposed, he stopped, touching her with his fingertips. She jumped with a mix of pleasure and sur-prise—and the newness of it, a man seeing her, touching her most intimate places. He explored her, slipping into her crevices, her slickness, until she was panting, tearing at her underpants. But he pushed her hands away and finished the job himself, and if he wanted her to touch him in the way he had her, he wasn't waiting.