It Had to Be You (48 page)

Night fell as they rode through the darkness, relieved by millions of twinkling stars that never failed to stun him. They just didn’t make skies like this anywhere else. Without a city light or house in sight, he and Callie were completely, utterly alone, surrounded by flowing rivers and wild bush and rocky canyons, watched only by the coyotes and whatever other creatures habited this area. It was awe-inspiring, and more than a little unnerving. He was finally coming to terms with this place, and now he was going to leave it.

After an hour, Callie suddenly slowed to a stop, then dismounted. She tied Sierra to a tree and touched her forehead to her horse’s.

Jake dismounted, too. The only sounds were water rushing somewhere off to their left and the crunch of the ground beneath his feet when he came up behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“I wish you hadn’t come,” she said.

“On the ride?”

A choking laugh escaped her. “To the ranch, Jake.”

He’d lifted a hand to stroke down her hair, but it went still, hovering in the air as the words sank into him like a knife.

Then she lifted her head and her eyes were swimming with tears.

“Ah, Callie,” he whispered, and he let his hand touch her after all.

“Before you, I was happy here.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and broke his heart. “I knew what every day would bring,” she choked out. “I knew what the future would hold. Now—” She broke off abruptly and closed her eyes. “This is useless. Forget it.”

“No, I won’t forget it. I can’t.” He cupped her face. “I never meant to hurt you.”

The gentleness in his touch devastated Callie as his thumbs stroked away her tears. She couldn’t speak.

“We agreed to see this through,” he said softly as the night breeze blew over them. “Through me not being able to work at what I do best, through Tucker and I struggling to be brothers, through you fighting for this ranch and facing all the changes ahead. Just because you’re scared now—”

“And you’re not?”

“Not when we’re doing this.” Leaning in, he kissed her, tenderly at first, then deeper, nibbling at her with hungry bites that took her right out of herself. What happened then shocked her. She felt an overwhelming hunger, a blinding need, and before she knew it they were fumbling for each other’s clothing, hands grappling for purchase right there in the dark with only the running creek for company. He tore open her shirt, she slid her fingers beneath his. Then he had her jeans down, and she had his open, and he’d produced a condom.

Bracing her between his hard body and the even harder tree, he lifted her up and sank into her. He sighed her name like a curse, a prayer, and she clung to his neck, pressing her face against his throat, feeling as if she was going to die if he didn’t hurry, if he didn’t take her now, hard and fast. None of it could be rationalized, not the way she abandoned all sense of shame, nor how much she needed him. She held on while he slid an arm behind her back, protecting her back from the tree, while his other hand gripped her hip, holding her open to his thrusts. It made no sense to feel so out of control, so wild for him, but she was, and with a shuddering sob, she came. He was only seconds behind her, and then his body trembled over hers as he held them both upright with the tree’s help.

Heart pumping against hers, he lifted his head and stroked the damp hair from her face. “You okay?”

She was now. For whatever reason, her anger and frustration and fear had melted away, leaving in its place a warmth and languor that made movement difficult. He helped her right her clothing, and then put his attention to his. They got on their horses and headed back to the ranch, Callie still basking in sated glow. She knew it would fade when the ranch came into view, but for now she selfishly held on to it and pretended the glow was hers to keep.

T
ucker and Amy sat on the porch watching the night go by. He felt good, damn good. He’d watched two brand-new baby calves come into the world and he had a relaxed Amy—at least a little—at his side. Only moments ago, Jake and Callie had ridden in, disappearing into the barn to put their horses away before coming back out.

“Interesting,” Tucker said.

“What’s interesting?”

Jake put a casual hand low on Callie’s back to guide her toward her cabin. It wasn’t so much a possessive hand as a protective one, and once upon a time that would have pissed Tucker off, but now he could remember how pretty damn great it had felt to once have Jake feel that protective about him. “They don’t argue nearly as much as they used to,” Tucker noted and picked up his soda.

“That’s because they’re doing it,” Amy said.

Tucker nearly choked on his soda.

“Does that bother you? Or make you jealous?”

“Not jealous…” He studied Amy in the moonlight, looking so pretty she took his breath. “Maybe a little envious.”

She snorted. “Please. You could be getting laid tonight if you wanted.”

Carefully he set down his soda. “Really?”

“There were at least three girls in the bar the other night who’d have jumped you in a heartbeat.”

“But I didn’t want any of them.”

“Why not?”

Because I want you.
“Don’t
you
ever feel envious, Amy?”

“Hell, no.” She shuddered, and wrapped her arms around her bent-up legs, hunching over herself.

His smile faded. Earlier suspicions about her past took root deep in his belly, and he took her drink from her hands and set it down, keeping her fingers in his, even when she tried to tug free.

“I’ve got to go,” she said.

“Not all men are assholes.” He stroked his thumb lightly over her knuckles. “I’m not.”

Her eyes were shiny, reflecting the starlight and none of her thoughts.

“Are you ever going to talk to me, Amy?”

“I talk to you.”

“About you. About your past.”

“I’ve told you some.”

“Tell me more.”

She stared down at their joined hands. “I filled out the employee forms. You could read those.”

“Those are confidential, and as a ranch hand, I don’t see them.”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised to find out her privacy had been kept.

Surprised, and touched, and his heart ached for her so much, but he didn’t know how to reach her. “Where were you born?”

“Memphis. I told you my father’s a trucker.”

“Who wasn’t around that much.”

She said nothing to that, so he pressed a little. “When he was around, did you get along?”

Her mouth twisted. “Hard to get along with a drunk.”

Her fingers were so cold, and though he suddenly felt chilled to the bone himself, he sandwiched hers between his two hands. “Did he—” He winced, unsure how to proceed.

“Are you trying to find out how he treated me? He likes to blame me for my mother’s death. With his fists. Is that what you wanted to know?”

No. He’d wanted her to tell him she’d had a princess life, even though he’d known that hadn’t been the case. “Amy.”

“When I got older, he didn’t blame me so much as…try to pretend I was her.” She pulled her hands from his as if shocked to find them there, and fisted them tight. “That was the worst part,” she whispered. “You know, fighting him off.” She put her forehead to her bent knees.

God. His heart felt as if it’d been laid wide open, slashed with a butcher knife. He scrubbed his hands over his face, afraid he was in over his head here.

“Sorry you asked, I bet.”

He looked at her bent head, at the sun tattooed on the back of her delicate neck. “No, I’m torn between wanting to hold you, and kill your father,” he said very quietly.

She surged to her feet. “It was a long time ago.”

“How long?”

“I haven’t been home since I was fourteen.”

Four years. Slowly he stood up, too, lifting his hands to put them on her shoulders, but letting them hover, afraid to scare her off. “Where did you go? What did you do?”

She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Found my way into kitchens, mostly. I was happy in Dallas for a little while, but then the boss found out I’d lied about my age and canned me. I went to New Mexico then. Taos. Loved it there, but the winters were too cold…”

“So you made your way west. Here.”

She was staring at her scuffed boots, apparently fascinated by them. “Yeah.” She hugged herself tight. “So now you know about me.”

Screw not touching her. He wanted to touch her, and he wanted her to like it. To like him. Gently he took her arm, drew her around to face him.

“Why aren’t you running?” she whispered, her arms still tight around herself. “Didn’t you hear what I said, what’s in my past? I’m a basket case.”

“No.” Leaning in, he kissed her softly, and then pulled back. Her eyes were wide on his, her breathing shallow with what he hoped to God was arousal, not fear. “You’re the strongest, most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

She blinked, slow as an owl. “I’m going to bed now. Alone.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“I’m not going to invite you in.”

“I know.”

She blinked again. “Won’t that…make you mad?”

“No.”

“Disappointed?”

“Hey, I just kissed you and you didn’t slug me. That’s enough progress for one night.”

She just stared at him. “You’re crazy.”

He held out his hand, waited.

She shook her head. “Scratch that. I’m the crazy one.” And she took his hand.

Callie woke up to a glorious sunrise shining through her window. She hadn’t set her alarm, knowing that Eddie and their guests wouldn’t be back until mid-morning. What that meant for her was that instead of rising at five, she could wait until close to six, as half the horses were gone, which considerably shortened her morning routine.

Her body felt rather amazing, and it took her a moment to figure out why. Jake was currently wrapped around her as if he was her own personal blanket.

She scooted free and sat up, hooking her arms around her knees. Without waking, Jake flopped to his stomach, hogging the entire bed with the body she never tired of looking at. What was it about his sexy, mind-melting grin? Or the way he touched her deep inside with just one soulful look of those gray eyes? Last night she’d thought she’d been so in control of herself, and yet all he’d had to do was back her up to a tree and she’d abandoned any restraint.

She took her gaze off him and watched the early sunrise glow outside her window. Sierra walked past, just sauntered right on by. No bridle, no saddle, just the horse, casual as could be. Leaping out of bed, Callie ran to the window.

“What?” Jake sat straight up, groggy.

“The horses. Someone let them out of the corral and the stalls.” Swearing, she whipped around and began to dress.

Jake had been angry plenty of times before, most recently the day he’d realized little Billy was going to try to ruin him. But that anger had passed because he couldn’t maintain fury at a kid clearly being manipulated by the adults around him. He felt only sorrow for Billy now.

But someone had deliberately put eleven horses in danger, all in the name of yet another prank, and that got to him. He walked up to the huge, ugly tan horse that used to belong to his father. Moe stood nibbling on the grass, and not even Goose had the nerve to chase this big, bad guy off. Jake had a bridle in his hands, and he knew how to use it, but he sure as hell would rather be scaling the side of a burning building. “What do you say we get you back inside your nice stall?”

Without looking at him, Moe danced sideways, away from him.

Jake sighed, painfully aware of Callie on the other side of the yard, catching three horses to his every one. “Come on, now. All you have to do is put your head in this thing and then I’ll lead you back home. What do you say?”

With a snort, the horse trotted away again.

“He says you’re a pushover.” Tucker grabbed the bridle from Jake, walked right up to Moe and bridled him, expertly avoiding his teeth when Moe snapped at him. “Stop it, Moe. You’re just trying to scare him now.” He glanced back as the sheriff pulled up the driveway. “By calling this in, you’re going to have even more trouble selling.”

“Don’t know what else to do.” Jake made sure to give Moe plenty of space. “It has to be stopped.”

Tucker nodded and started to lead Moe away, but then he stopped. Kicked the dirt. “You know there’s not many suspects, right? Other than us?”

“I’m hoping like hell there’s someone else. A neighbor, a kid from town,
someone.
”

“Yeah.” Tucker stroked Moe’s face, who snorted in pleasure, looking nice and friendly.

Jake just sighed.

“Look,” Tucker said. “I know I’m a prick to you most of the time, but I’d never—I mean, I wouldn’t…”

“I know.”

Tucker nodded, looking so touchingly relieved, Jake actually stepped closer, with some old, burning desire to do something stupid, like touch him.

But Tucker led Moe away before he could.

Tucker didn’t go far, just to the nearest phone. He did what he’d been meaning to do for five weeks now, and called his mother. He was shocked as hell when he actually got her on the first try.

Mary Ann wasn’t usually readily available. When she was after a guy, she faded out of his life, only coming back into it—like a freight train—when things soured in her relationship. He’d accepted that as a child. He’d had to. From the age of five, she’d been all he’d had. He’d accepted a lot of things that he wondered about now.

“You caught me in the middle of a manicure,” she said.

She didn’t waste time with greetings, even though they hadn’t spoken in a few months, so he didn’t, either. “When Jake left, did he ever try to contact us?”

“What? My goodness.” She laughed. “That was so long ago.”

“Did he?”

“Oh, you know your brother, baby. He had other fish to fry. He rarely had time to call.”

“You told me he
never
called. That he walked out the door when I was five and never called again.”

“Listen to that awful static. We have a bad connection. I’ll call you another time—”

“I want to know the truth.”

She sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you, the truth is always overrated.”

“Mom.”

“Fine. The truth is he walked away from you. You know that.”

“He came back when I needed him.”

“Yes, so he could throw it in my face that I’d ruined you.”

“You told me you had to beg him to come.” Tucker rubbed his temples, trying to absorb it all. “That he only came at all because he had this ranch and needed another hand.”

“I can’t hear you.…Gotta go—”

He stared at the phone when she disconnected him, knowing the truth, that Jake had spoken it, and that Tucker had been nothing but an ungrateful, spoiled bastard to him in return. He slammed the kitchen phone down, glad Amy couldn’t see the violence in him now or he’d scare her to death.

He drew a deep breath and looked around him, out the window at the wide open space he loved, at the people who ran it. These people were his real family, Jake included. And nothing could take that from him.

That evening, Callie rode out on Sierra. It was an hour before sunset, and another storm brewed. Clouds swirled and danced above her, the sky churning like the blue flames the ranch was named for. Their novelist guests were back, happy and talking animatedly about their overnight adventure. Amy had fed them a meaty lasagna, and they were all getting ready for a big bonfire that evening. Except for Jake, who was right this minute walking his Realtor and a prospective buyer around the ranch.

Callie urged Sierra into a gallop. The sheriff had come by again. He was concerned, and so was Jake.

And so was she. Not that she believed she was in any real peril. No, her danger came from losing her heart.
God.
She was tough enough to handle this thing between her and Jake. And whatever jerk was messing with the ranch. She could handle anything but losing the only place she’d ever considered home.

And yet she
was
going to lose it. Tilting her head up, she took a deep breath and watched the sky change as she rode the trail. The clouds grumbled overhead, moving swiftly, violently. She lost herself in it for a long moment, then at the sound of a horse behind her, turned and watched Jake ride toward her on Molly. “I want to be alone,” she said.

“Callie—” He broke off at an odd flash of light in the hills. He cocked his head, searching the horizon. “Someone’s behind the rocks over there.”

A sudden loud pop startled them both as the rock on the other side of them pinged as if it’d been shot—

“Jesus.
Get down!
” Jake leapt off Molly, hauling Callie off Sierra before she could move, shoving her ahead of him. “Run for the rocks!”

“The horses—”

“Go!” He shoved her again and she ran. It was only about ten yards but it might as well have been a wide-open football field. Her skin prickled every step of the way, anticipating the burn of a bullet. She dove behind the rocks, ducking as another shot resounded over her head, raining dirt and rock down over her. She scooted over as much as she could, expecting Jake to dive in right on her heels.

He had the reins of both horses in his hands as he ran toward her, trying to rush without spooking them. But the next shot did just that, and Sierra reared up, ripping the reins from his hands, her hooves pawing at the air, inches from Jake’s head.

“Jake!”
Callie surged up to her knees, horrified as Sierra bumped into Molly, and then both horses were rearing as Jake fell backward to the ground. Callie ran out from behind the rock and threw herself between Jake and the horses, standing still and calm while her heart stuck her in her throat, crooning to both horses in a soft voice she knew would reach them.

“Callie, goddammit.” Jake growled, struggling back to his feet.

“Hold on.” She murmured to the horses again, sweating with each passing second, just waiting for the bite of a bullet in her flesh, but it didn’t come. The moment Sierra’s hooves hit the ground, Jake grabbed her reins, thrust them at Callie, then grabbed Molly’s reins. They all moved around the rocks. They stood there, chests heaving in shock, staring at each other. Jake shoved Molly’s reins at her. “Stay here.”