With Family In Mind (Saddle Falls Book 1) (12 page)

Physical attraction was nothing more than emotion, she rationalized. Fallible and totally unreliable. Fact and truth were the only tangible things she could depend on. So she was attracted to Jake Ryan. So what? It wasn’t a crime, merely a complication, one she simply had to accept and deal with. And her way of dealing with this type of emotional land mine was to simply ignore it.

She’d occasionally been attracted to men before, of course—though not with the degree of attraction she felt for Jake. But she’d managed to keep it in its proper place so it didn’t interfere in her life or her job.

She intended to do the same with Jake Ryan.

Jake was not a man she could ever become involved with, romantically or emotionally, simply because of who he was and who she was. Not to mention that she was now involved with him professionally, and getting involved with him personally would be unethical.

So it was totally out of the question.

“Rebecca?” She’d gone somewhere inside herself again. She had that detached look he was growing to hate. He touched her cheek, wanting to prevent her from withdrawing any further. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“Eaten?” She frowned, ignoring his touch on her cheek with some effort. “No. I don’t think so.” She really didn’t remember.

And did the man have to keep looking at her like that? she wondered, trying not to scowl. And touching her? She was trying to ignore this attraction between them, but how could she if he kept insisting on reminding her?

He grinned. “You may be a helluva writer and investigative reporter Miss St. John, but you’ve got a ways to go in learning how to take care of yourself.”

Her insides stilled, right before everything slipped into panic. “How…how did you know I was an investigative reporter?” she asked, her gaze searching his.

“You’re not the only one capable of doing research,” he said quietly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocking back on his heels in what he hoped seemed like a casual motion.

The tone of his voice had annoyance crawling over her. Rebecca took a step closer to him, glaring up into his face. “What did you do, Jake, have me investigated?” She saw the answer before he even spoke, and it made the panic grow. There was no reason for alarm, she tried to assure herself. There was no way he would ever be able to find out who she really was.

There was nothing to connect her to her mother. Nothing to connect her to the woman named Margaret Brost, who’d possibly been involved in his brother’s disappearance.

Rebecca had legally changed her name, had moved to a different city and divorced herself totally from her shameful past.

No matter how he dug, what he found out, she
didn’t think it was possible for him to ever learn the truth.

She hoped.

“I didn’t realize the caliber of reporter I was dealing with.” Jake gave a careless shrug, watching as she withdrew further into that detached place where he couldn’t seem to reach her.

What had happened to her, he wondered, that caused her to retreat like a turtle every time he got close, or said something a bit personal?

She was either hiding something or she’d been terribly hurt by something or someone, and learned to withdraw as a matter of protection.

She was a beautiful, intelligent woman, obviously successful at what she did and very capable. However, all he had to do was look at her, look beyond that cool, competent facade, to see the pain and hurt in her eyes. It only increased his curiosity about her.

“I guess I should be impressed by your reputation and credentials.” He was, but wasn’t about to admit it, not after the hard time he’d given her yesterday. “Rebecca,” he said carefully, wanting to draw her out of the icy place she was in. “If you think I’d agree to help you write a story about my family without checking you out thoroughly, you’re not the reporter I think you are.”

“You said you’d trust me,” she accused, wishing she wasn’t so panicky.

“I did,” he said with a nod. “I also agreed to help you, but you agreed to a few things as well, remember?” One brow rose and he studied her carefully, wondering why she seemed so distressed. If she was
truly on the level, what difference did it make if he found out more about her? She should have expected it. “I never make a deal with anyone without checking them out thoroughly first. It’s a Ryan family trait. In my experience a deal’s only as good as the parties who make it.”

“And are you satisfied I’m on the level, and exactly who and what I said I was?”

He nodded slowly. “You’re who you said you were, but it seems you left out a few details.”

She was probably too young to have a heart attack, she decided, but was almost certain this man just might give her one.

“Such as?” she challenged.

“Why don’t we discuss it over dinner?” He took her hand before she could refuse, wanting to break the tension between them and get back on friendlier ground. “You eat, and I’ll have a beer. You can have one, too.”

“I don’t drink beer,” she said, with such a haughty air, he laughed.

“Somehow I didn’t think you were the beer guzzling type,” he said, still drawing her with him, whether she wanted to go or not. “I brought some wine, a light chardonnay. It’s a nice night. We can sit out on the porch while you eat. I’ve got some questions for you and I’m sure now that you’ve started your research you have some questions, as well.”

She frowned, not certain she wanted to spend part of the evening alone with him. “I do, but Jake, I don’t think this is a good idea—”

“Eating is always a good idea.” He picked up the
cooler with one hand, still holding on to her with the other. “I’m just going to keep you company while you eat. No harm in that.”

“Yes, but—”

“Grab your plate, there.” He nodded toward the foil-wrapped plate on the table.

She did have questions for him, but she wasn’t certain she liked the way he was…handling her. It felt as if she was deliberately being manipulated, and she didn’t like it.

He hadn’t bothered to close the main door, and now kicked the screen door open, leading her out to the porch.

With her plate in her hand, and Jake holding the other, Rebecca came to a stop. “My God, I never realized how beautiful it was out here.” Her gaze drifted about her, touching on the few scattered trees shifting slightly in the breeze, silhouetted by the moon.

“I love it,” he said simply, setting the cooler on the porch, then tugging her down on the top step. Jake glanced around as he took her plate and pulled the foil off. “There’s a peacefulness about this place,” he said quietly, seeing it through her eyes. “Just something about it that’s always seemed perfect to me.” He glanced at her. “It’s the only place I’m truly comfortable.” He shrugged. “It’s home.”

He handed her the plate, and Rebecca was grateful for the dark and something to do with her hands, so he couldn’t see the sudden spate of tears his words brought on.

Home.

The ache came quick and fast, stunning her. Surreptitiously, she slipped her hand under her glasses to wipe the tears away. With a sigh, she removed her glasses, setting them down on the porch next to her as she glanced around again.

Home.

She understood the context of home, understood, too, the peacefulness he was talking about. It was a feeling of contentment that came from knowing you were where you belonged.

She also understood the importance home held for Jake, because this was the only place that had ever felt like
her
home, as well.

She’d almost forgotten how much she’d loved this place as a child.

It was in the past, she scolded herself, over and done with. She was no longer a child, she had grown up, and there was no point getting lost in wistful memories that would serve no useful purpose.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Jake reached into the cooler, pulled out a beer and popped the cap off, setting it on the porch floor. Then he reached for the wine cooling in the bottom. He pulled out a wineglass, which had her lifting her brow in surprise.

“I’m starved,” she admitted frankly. “And obviously you came prepared.”

He grinned. “Once a Boy Scout, always a Boy Scout.” Digging into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a small Swiss Army knife and proceeded to open the wine, setting it on the porch as well. “Eat.” He nodded toward her plate, reaching into the cooler once again for silverware wrapped in a napkin. “There’s
steak grilled by Tommy, some fresh green beans and potato salad. Homemade by Mrs. Taylor.”

Rebecca dug in, tasting the potato salad and almost swooning at the fabulous flavor. “Obviously, Mrs. Taylor’s a terrific cook.”

“One of the best.” Leaning back on his elbows, Jake stretched his legs out. “So, Rebecca St. John, tell me about yourself.”

She tried not to freeze, then merely shrugged. The porch light bathed him in a warm, golden glow that glinted off his black hair and tanned skin, making him look far too appealing. She averted her gaze, staring at her plate. “Exactly what would you like to know?”

“You’re from Reno, and from what I understand, you’ve worked for the
Reno Sun
for years, correct?”

Her mouth full, she nodded. “Yes.” She swallowed, wiped her mouth with her napkin, then daintily folded it in her lap. “After my graduation, and my internship, the editor in chief offered me a full-time position.” She pretended to be intensely interested in what was on her plate. “By then I knew writing, reporting, was what I wanted to do, and I’ve done it ever since.”

“And you’ve been pretty darn good at it, from what I hear.” He smiled, lifting her glass of wine to her. Their fingers brushed when she took it, sending a heated thrill all the way through her. “You’ve won just about every major writing award in the state. Even been nominated for some national awards for your stories.”

“Is that a question or an accusation?” she asked, sipping her wine.

“Neither. Just a statement.” He studied her for a moment. “You have a stellar reputation and are known for being honest, ethical and always getting to the bottom of a story.” Which was why he was so worried.

“I told you that yesterday,” she said. “But apparently you didn’t believe me, did you?” It hurt a bit that he didn’t trust her, at least not entirely, no matter what he’d said before.

“It’s not that I didn’t believe you, Rebecca, but you know my history and how I feel about reporters.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “You’re obviously not any kind of reporter I’m used to.”

“Obviously.” Finishing off the potato salad on her plate, Rebecca dug into her steak. It was cooked to perfection and still warm enough to be enjoyed.

“So tell me, what is a reporter of your caliber, with your credentials, doing working in a small town like Saddle Falls?”

Her appetite vanished, and she set her plate down on the porch, pausing to wipe her mouth with the napkin again. “I’m not actually working here, at least not in the way you make it seem.”

He shrugged. “Looks that way to me. You said you were working for Edmund Barker. He confirmed that you are.” Jake grinned when her head came up and her gaze narrowed suspiciously on him. “Yeah, I checked, Rebecca. It would have been reckless of me not to, not with what I’ve got at stake.”

She took a slow, deep breath. “I understand that, Jake. But I told you I don’t make a habit of lying.” She was struggling not to get annoyed.

“Yeah, I know,” he acknowledged. “But still, I’m curious. What are you doing in Saddle Falls? Why here?” He glanced around. “What’s so special about this town? Granted, I think it’s kind of special, but it’s hardly the kind of place you’re going to find any real big news items, at least not the kind you write about.” Unless she planned to exploit the Ryans, he thought, struggling to push the idea away. He was trying to trust her, trying not to think about what the draw to Saddle Falls and his family was. He’d been struggling over this all day, struggling not to be suspicious or condemn her without giving her a chance to explain.

She took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “Jake, do you remember when I told you I expected others to respect and value my privacy as I value theirs?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I try never to discuss my personal life when I’m working on a story. It tends to complicate things and confuse the issues.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He also remembered she’d all but told him kissing him was unethical. It annoyed him no end. “So what you’re telling me is that it’s none of my business what you’re doing here in Saddle Falls? Is that it?” His suspicions grew when she merely smiled.

“But it is my business,” he countered, trying not to make his voice harsh. “If you expect me to trust you, Rebecca, really trust you, then you have to give me some reason. And whether your reasons for being
here are personal or not, I do think it’s my business, considering the circumstances.”

He had a point, she realized, knowing he wouldn’t let it go unless she answered him. She took a slow sip of her wine, set the glass down, then laced her hands together in her lap.

“Jake, I came to Saddle Falls to take care of some family business. I took a month-long leave from the newspaper. I’ve got quite a bit of personal time coming, so I thought I might as well use it now, to handle this situation. My editor and Edmund Barker happened to be old college chums. My boss asked me to look him up and say hello. I did, and when he learned I planned to be here for a couple of weeks, he asked if I’d be interested in tackling a freelance assignment for him.”

“The Ryan family story for the jubilee celebration?” he asked. The information he’d learned about her had both calmed his fears and aroused them. It was, he decided, a double-edged sword.

He was relieved that she was apparently not only on the up-and-up about who she was, but also very good at what she did.

But he couldn’t stop wondering why she’d chosen
his
family to write about. He knew he wouldn’t rest until he found out the truth.

Rebecca nodded. “Yeah, the Saddle Falls fiftieth anniversary. It sounded like a fairly interesting story, and I thought it would be a nice change of pace. I haven’t done a family history in a long time. After doing a bit of initial research, getting some back
ground on your family, I realized this had the kind of potential to be a terrific story.”