Buckhorn Beginnings (16 page)

Gabe muffled a startled laugh. “You're going to
what?
”

She sniffed in disdain at his attitude. “Dance. To
my
music. What you men listen to is appalling.”

Gabe trotted along beside them as Sawyer started toward the house with the box. “It's called country and it's damn good.”

She made a face. “Yes, well, I prefer rock and roll.”

“This oughta be good.”

Her gaze turned to Gabe. “You plan to watch?”

“Hell, yes.”

“If you do,” she warned, as if she could make him reconsider, “you'll have to dance, too.”

“Wouldn't miss it.”

Sawyer marched through the back door, through the kitchen, down the hall and into the family room. The stereo was on a built-in shelf beside the huge stone fireplace centered on the outside wall. The speakers hung from the pine walls in four locations beneath the cathedral ceiling. This room wasn't carpeted, but instead had a large area rug in a Native American motif that covered the middle of the polished wood floor. Facing the front of the house, it had a wall of windows reaching to the ceiling, shaded by the enormous elms out front. Two comfortable couches, a variety of padded armchairs and some eclectic tables handmade from area denizens filled the room.

The first time they'd all gotten together and played music and chess and arm wrestled, in general goofing off and relaxing, Honey had looked agog at all the noise. Their boisterous arguments over the chess match, more intense than those over the wrestling, almost drowned out the country songs, and she had winced as if in pain. After half an hour she'd claimed a headache and said she was going down by the lake to sit on the dock and enjoy the evening air and quiet.

Sawyer had promptly followed her, ignoring the gibes of his brothers and Casey's ear-to-ear grin. Knowing he wouldn't be interrupted, not when they all worked so hard at conniving just such a situation for him, he'd made love to her under the stars. Dew from the lake had dampened their heated bodies, and Honey's soft moans were enhanced by the sounds of gentle waves lapping at the shore. Now, looking at her face, he could tell she was remembering, too.

He dropped the box and took a step toward her. Her eyes suddenly looked heavy, the pulse in her throat raced, her skin flushed. Damn, he was getting hard.

Casey hit him in the back. “Snap out of it, Dad. I'm too young to see this, and Uncle Gabe is about to fall down laughing.”

Sawyer scowled at Gabe, who lifted his hands innocently even though his shoulders were shaking with mirth, then he turned to Casey and couldn't help but chuckle. “Where did you come from?”

“Well, according to you and that talk we had when I was seven—”

Sawyer put him a headlock and mussed his hair. “Smart-ass. You know that wasn't what I meant.”

The second Casey twisted free, laughing, Honey stepped forward and smoothed his hair back down. And he let her, grinning the whole time. Casey was a good head and a half taller than Honey, with shoulders almost twice as wide. Yet he let her mother him. And every damn time she did, something inside Sawyer softened to the point of pain. He loved Casey so much, had loved him from the first second he'd held him as a squalling, red-faced infant, regardless of all the issues present, that anyone else who loved him automatically earned a place in his heart.

She finished with Casey's hair and gave him a hug of greeting. Sawyer felt ridiculously charmed once again—and he hated it.

“I brought in my music,” she told Casey, as if any reprieve from country music was the equivalent of
being spared the gallows. Casey hadn't yet told her he actually liked country. “You want to take a look, see if anything interests you?”

“That'd be great. I'll check them out as soon as I've washed up.”

Gabe stood to stretch. “You get everything taken care of, Case?”

He nodded, then turned to Sawyer. “When Mrs. Hartley left here today, I saw she was limping.”

Sawyer pulled his thoughts away from Honey with an effort. “She twisted her ankle the other day rushing in from her car when it was raining.”

“She told me. So I followed her over there to help her out. I got her grass cut and did some weeding, then went to the grocery for her.” To Honey, he said, “Mrs. Hartley is close to seventy, and she's real sweet. She's the librarian in town, and she orders in the books I like.”

Honey laced her fingers together at her waist and beamed at Casey. “What a thoughtful thing to do! I'm so proud of you.”

Casey actually blushed. “Uh, it was no big deal. Anyone would have done the same.”

“That's not true.” Honey's smile was gentle, warm. “The world is filled with selfish people who never think of others.”

The men exchanged glances. They really didn't think too much of helping out, since it was second nature to them. But Sawyer supposed to Honey it did seem generous, given the men she'd known.

Gabe saved Casey from further embarrassment by throwing an arm around him and hustling him
along. “Go get washed so we can put the music on. I'm getting anxious.” He winked at Honey, and then they were gone.

The family room had open archways rather than doors that could be closed, so they weren't afforded any real privacy, but already Sawyer felt the strain of being alone with her. He looked at her with hot eyes and saw she was studying some of the framed photos on the wall. There were pictures of all of them, but the majority were of Casey at every age.

Sawyer came up behind her and kissed her nape. He felt desperate to hold her, to stave off time, and he looped his arms around her. “Mmm. You smell good.”

He could feel her smile, hear it in her response. “You always say that.”

“Because you always smell so damn good.” He nipped her ear. “It makes me crazy.”

She leaned against him, and her tone turned solemn. “You've done an excellent job with Casey. I don't think I've ever known a more giving, understanding or mature kid. He's serious, but still fun-loving, sort of a mix of all of you. He's incredible.” She leaned her head back to smile up at Sawyer. “But then, he inherited some pretty incredible genes, being your son.”

Sawyer's arms tightened for the briefest moment, making her gasp, then he released her. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and paced away. Maybe, considering he had insisted she call her fiancé tonight, he should at least explain a few things.

Honey touched his arm. “What is it?”

“Casey's not really mine.” He no sooner said it than he shook his head. “That is, he's mine in every way that counts. But I didn't father him. I don't know who his father is—and neither did his mother.”

“W
HAT DID YOU SAY
?”

Sawyer laughed at himself. He made no sense, so her confusion was expected. “My wife cheated. A lot. She didn't like my long hours studying, or my distraction with school in general. By the time Casey was born, I'd already filed for a divorce. It wasn't easy for her. She had no family, and she wasn't happy about the divorce. In fact, she was crushed by it. She pleaded with me not to leave her, but she…well, once I knew she'd been with other men, I couldn't forgive her. I understood it, but I couldn't forgive.”

Honey wrapped her arms around him from behind, leaning her head on his back. She didn't say anything, just held on to him.

“I'd been sort of taking care of her for a long time, since high school even. Her parents died when she was seventeen, and an aunt took her in, but then she died, too, when Ashley was nineteen. She never had a job, and the idea of getting one horrified her. I just…I dunno. It seemed logical to marry her, to take care of her. We'd been dating forever, and I felt sorry for her, and there was no one else I wanted.”

Honey kissed his back, showing her understanding. “Why did she cheat?”

Sawyer shrugged. “Hell, I don't know. She seemed plenty satisfied with…” He stalled, casting her a quick look.

“She seemed satisfied with you sexually? Of course she did. You're an incredible man, Sawyer.” Her small hands were flat on his abdomen, making him catch his breath as she idly stroked him, meaning to offer comfort, but arousing him instead. All she had to do was breathe to turn him on; her touch made him nearly incoherent with lust.

“You're also an incredible lover,” she added huskily, making his muscles twitch. “No woman would have complaints.”

He looked away again. When she said things like that, it made him want to toss her on the couch and strip her clothes off. He reacted like an uncivilized barbarian, ready to conquer. Feeling a tad uncomfortable with that analogy, he rushed through the rest of his explanation. “She told me she felt neglected, so she cheated. And then she couldn't understand why I wouldn't forgive her, because in her mind, it was my fault. I filed for divorce, but then I found out she was several months pregnant. She was angry and taunted me with the fact it wasn't mine. But by then, I hardly cared. It was an embarrassment, but little else.”

“Did everyone know?”

“Not at first. She got over being mad and just started pleading with me to take her back. She fought the damn divorce tooth and nail. I tried to be considerate with her, but I was also in the middle of med school and I had my hands full. When she went into labor, she begged me to go the hospital with her.”
He got quiet as he remembered that awful day, his guilt, his feelings of helplessness. His family had wanted to be supportive, but no one knew what to do. The entire town had watched the drama unfold, and it was painful.

“There was no one else,” he murmured, “and I couldn't leave her there alone. So I went. And after they handed me Casey, Ashley told me she was putting him up for adoption.”

He shook his head, once again feeling the utter disbelief. After holding Casey for just a few short hours, he knew he wouldn't let him go. It wasn't the baby's fault his mother had been discontent in her marriage, and while wonderful adoptions existed, he wouldn't put it to the chance.

He pulled away from Honey and went to stare blindly at a photo of Casey as a toddler. In a hoarse tone, he admitted, “I signed the birth certificate, claiming him as my own, and dared her to fight me on it.” His throat felt tight, and he swallowed hard. “We're not without influence here. My family has been a force since my father's days, and Ashley knew in a battle she didn't stand a chance. She hadn't wanted Casey, and I damn sure did, so she reluctantly agreed. For a while, she was bitter about it. I don't know who all she complained to, but everyone around here knew the whole private story within days. They knew, but they didn't dare say anything.”

Honey didn't approach him this time. She kept her distance and spoke in a whisper. “Where's his mother now?”

“I'm not sure. She got ostracized by the town,
not because of me, because I swear I tried to make it easy on her. But she was bitter and that bitterness set everyone against her. She moved away, and last I heard, she'd remarried and moved to England. That was years ago. Casey knows the truth, and I've tried to help him understand her and her decisions. And my own.”

“You feel responsible.”

He turned to face her. “I can't excuse myself from it, Honey. I played a big part in her actions. She resented my sense of obligation to others, and I resented her interference in my life. I
like
taking care of people, and I like being a doctor, yet that's what drove her away. She wanted more of my time, and I didn't want to give it to her, not if it meant taking away from my family and the community.”

“And you don't ever want a wife to…interfere that way again?”

“I don't want to run the risk of another scandal. I haven't changed.”

Her smile was gentle as she crossed the floor and hugged herself up against him. “There's no reason you should. You accept the influence of your name, but also the responsibility of it, like a liege lord, and you handle that responsibility well. If Ashley didn't understand, it's not your fault.”

“She was my wife.”

“She was also a grown woman who made her own terrible decisions. I can only imagine how you felt, with everyone knowing the truth, but I'm sure no one blames you.”

“I blame myself.”

She burrowed against him, her small body pressed tight to his own. Damn, but he wanted her.

All his life he'd been surrounded by family and neighbors and friends. That wouldn't change, but he knew when Honey left, he'd feel alone. And for the first time in his life he felt vulnerable, a feeling he instinctively fought against.

He wrapped his fist in her hair and turned her face up for his kiss. She tried to dodge his mouth, wanting to talk, to instruct him on his sense of obligation, but he wouldn't allow it. With a low growl, he held her closer and roughly took her mouth, pushing his tongue inside, stemming any protest she might make.

Just as she always did, Honey kissed him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hands clutched his shirt, and she went on her tiptoes to seal the space between them.

Sawyer groaned. He pulled his mouth free and kissed her throat, her chin. “I hate feeling like this,” he said, meaning the way his need for her consumed him beyond reason. There were so many other things to consider right now, and all he wanted to do was get inside her.

Honey pressed her fingers to his mouth, and though she smiled, her eyes looked damp. “You feel responsible for me, and you're trying to do the right thing, because that's who you are. You help people by giving. You take in strays, both people and animals.”

“The animals are Jordan's.”

“But they're accepted by you. By all of you. Your wife was a stray. I'm a stray.”

He grasped her arms and shook her slightly. “Dammit, Honey, I care about you.”

She gave a soft, sad chuckle. “You care about everyone, Sawyer. But I don't want or need anyone to take care of me. This time, you aren't responsible.”

“I wasn't making comparisons, dammit.” His frustration level shot through the roof as he tried to find a balance for the feelings.

“I know.” Her hand cupped his jaw, her eyes filled with emotion. “I won't lie and tell you I don't want a family. I was willing to marry a despicable creep like Alden for it, and he couldn't offer half what you do with your nosy, domineering brothers and your incredible son and your unshakable honor. But I have no intentions of clinging to a loveless relationship. I tried that with Alden, and look where it got me.” She smiled, then shook her head. “I've been thinking about it, and I decided I deserve to be loved. I deserve a family of my own, and a happily ever after. I would never settle for anything less now.”

Her words left him empty, made him want to protect her, to ask her to stay forever. But the one time he'd tried marriage it had been for all the wrong reasons. Now, he wanted Honey horribly, but he just didn't know about love, not a romantic, everlasting love. All he knew for certain was the uncontrollable lust that drove him wild.

She looked up into his face, her eyes soft, her expression softer, then she sighed. “Don't look so stern, Sawyer. You haven't done anything wrong.
You didn't make me any false promises, and you didn't take advantage of me.” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “All you did was show me how men can and should be. And for that, more than anything, I thank you.”

She stepped away and drew a deep breath. “So, now that we've cleared that up, what do you say I make that phone call?”

He wanted to say to hell with it; he wanted to shake her for being so nonchalant about her own feelings.

Trying for a detachment he didn't possess, he glanced at his watch. “Morgan should be home soon. Then we'll call.”

From the open doorway, Morgan growled, “I'm home now.”

Sawyer looked up and saw his brother lounging there, arms crossed belligerently over his chest, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. He looked like a thundercloud. How much had he heard? Obviously enough, given his extra-ferocious scowl.

First Gabe, and now Morgan. They didn't approve of his methods, his urgency in getting the issue resolved. Despite what he'd told Gabe and Honey, Morgan had argued with him over the idea of contacting Alden. Morgan had called him an ass for denying that he cared. Sawyer had countered that he'd only known her for a little over two weeks, which had made Morgan snort in derision.
You knew Ashley for a short lifetime, but that didn't make the relationship any better.
Truthful words that had been gnawing at him all day.

Sawyer abruptly headed for the doorway to call Gabe and Jordan in, determined to blot Morgan's warning from his mind. Once the brothers were all collected, Sawyer noticed Honey wouldn't quite meet his gaze. It was as if she'd shut him out, already removing herself from him. He hated it, but told himself it was for the best.

The brothers were setting up the extra phones in the room so they'd all be able to listen in the hopes of catching a clue. Casey had Honey's collection of music pulled toward him, idly thumbing through CDs and tapes. Sawyer doubted there'd be any dancing tonight, but he understood Casey's need for a distraction.

Then Casey nudged Honey. “What's this?”

Absently, she glanced down, frowning at a plain tape with the word
Insurance
written on it. “I don't know.”

Sawyer, hoping to ease her tension, said, “We'll be a few minutes yet if you want to check it out.”

Casey carried the tape to the stereo and put it in. With the very first words spoken on the tape, a crushing stillness settled over the room. Murmured conversations and quiet preparations ceased, as slowly, everyone stopped what they were doing to listen.

Her gaze glued to the stereo as if transfixed, Honey whispered, “Sawyer,” and he was by her side in an instant, taking her hand, as appalled as she.

The voices were unrecognizable to Sawyer, other than being male. But what they were discussing was painfully obvious: murder. And the fact that Honey
knew the voices was easy to see by her horrified expression.

So you'll do it?

It won't be a problem. But we'll need some good-faith money up-front.

I can give you half now, the rest after she marries me and her father is gone. But remember, you have to wait for my instructions. If you kill the old man before the legalities are taken care of, I won't get a damn thing. Which means you won't get a thing.

How long are we talking?

A week or two. It's already in his will, but I want to make sure there won't be any mix-ups.

Honey turned wounded eyes to Sawyer. “That's Alden.”

Sawyer pulled her closer, but her face remained blank, white with hurt and disbelief. One by one, his brothers and Casey gathered around her until she was listening to the tape from behind a wall of protective men.

You just make sure the wedding goes off without a hitch. I don't want to be wasting my time here.

I can handle the bride. Don't worry about that.

What if she objects to her daddy being snuffed? Will the conditions of the will alter if she divorces you?

No, she's completely clueless to my plans, so don't worry about her. She won't have any idea that I was behind it all. If anything, she'll want me to comfort her.

There was some masculine chuckling over that, and one of the men mumbled,
An added bonus, huh?

Sawyer shot to his feet, his fists clenched, the corners of his vision clouded by rage. “I'll kill him.”

Morgan grabbed Sawyer's shoulder. “Don't be stupid.”

“Or so human,” Gabe added, staring at him in fascination. “It shocks me. You're usually such a damn saint.”

Honey slowly stood and faced them all. “I…I have to call the police.”

Sawyer squeezed his eyes shut and tried to find his control. Gabe was right—he was acting out of character. He was the pacifist in the family, yet all he wanted to do was get Alden close enough to beat him to a pulp.

Morgan stepped around Sawyer. “Honey, I think you should still make that call.”

She blinked owlishly, as if coming out of a daze. Feeling grim, Sawyer nodded. “We need to find out who the hell he hired.”

Casey stood beside Honey, one arm around her waist. “He made the tape for insurance, just as it says, didn't he? He couldn't take the chance that the men he'd hired would go against him. Or maybe he planned to blackmail them later with it.”