Lonestar Sanctuary (15 page)

Rick followed him to the edge of the porch. "Thanks for coming
out," he said, his voice distant.

Wally touched his hat. "I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings about the future of the ranch. I'll be in touch."

Neither of them spoke as the sound of the car's tires on the dirt
and gravel faded away. Allie peeked at Rick's face and gulped when she
saw his thunderous expression.

"You liar. You came here knowing Elijah was your grandfather.
Why bother with marrying me? You'd have a stable home here for
Betsy, and he would have helped you keep custody."

Did he think she would have tied herself to him if she'd had any
other choice? "I didn't plan to tell him."

He laughed, a short bark of derision. "Yeah, right. One look at you
and he had to know. He kept track of his daughter. Did you really
think he wouldn't realize?"

"He guessed," she admitted. "I was surprised at his welcome. I
thought he would throw me out." She clutched her cold hands together.
Dredging up some anger from the depths, she fired back at him. "Is
that why you really married me? Because you knew he'd leave us the
ranch? If you knew he kept track of her, you surely knew her name
and that I was her daughter."

"I didn't know what he'd planned or that you were his granddaughter."

"Really? Then why were you in such a hurry to do this before you
talked to the lawyer? Did you think if I had any other way out, I
wouldn't do it? And besides, you pointed out my resemblance to Maria."

"I was trying to help you and Elijah."

They were glaring at one another like two kids quarreling over the
last piece of candy in the dish. Allie leaned her head against the back
of the rocker. The day had sapped every bit of her ability to cope. "I'm
sorry I said that," she said. "If there's one thing I know, it's that you
loved Elijah like a father. Betsy having the ranch doesn't change much
of anything as far as Jon's parents are concerned. They'd want her even
more if they knew the ranch came with her."

He pulled out his knife and a piece of wood. The shavings flew as
he applied himself to the whittling with a vengeance. "You've kept too
many secrets from me, Allie. If we're going to stay married, we have
to keep communication open."

Stay married? She eyed him. "It's only for a year or so. We can
stand it for that long."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. She wasn't quite sure
what the expression on his face meant, and she was afraid to ask him.

Betsy's dead weight made Allie struggle to stand. "I think I'll put
her to bed."

"Let me get the door." He strode to the door and opened it. "She's
pretty big for you to carry all the way upstairs. Let me take her." He
scooped Betsy out of her arms and went ahead of Allie.

She climbed the steps behind them. Betsy stirred but didn't
awaken. It had been a busy day for her too. At the top of the stairs, Allie
darted around Rick into the bedroom and pulled back the covers on
Betsy's bed. He laid her gently on the mattress and pulled the covers
around her. They both stood looking down at the little girl as the moon
gilded her hair and illuminated the sweet curve of her round cheeks.

"She's worth anything we have to do to protect her," Rick said.

He almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Allie
nodded without saying anything. His masculine presence overwhelmed the room. Her mouth went dry when he turned to her and
put his big hands on her shoulders. Surely he didn't expect them to
have a normal marriage.

The heat of his hands soaked through her blouse, and she couldn't
look away from the intensity of his gaze. The howl of a coyote echoed
from the hills, and the sound broke the magnetic pull of his eyes.

She stepped away, and his hands fell to his sides. "Thanks for bringing her up to bed."

He cleared his throat but didn't move away. "I just wanted to tell
you I meant what I promised in the judge's chambers."

Which part? Allie's thoughts flew back to what Rick had said on
the porch. That whole thing about staying married. "Thank you," she
managed lamely. She didn't want to explore that subject, especially
not here in her bedroom. His gaze still mesmerized her, and she
forced herself to look away. "Good night."

"'Night." He moved to the door and pulled it shut behind him.

The strength ran out of her legs, and she sat heavily on her bed. Did he mean their plan to divorce in a year was off? He couldn't just
make that determination without her agreement. She didn't want to
live her life with a man who despised her. Good thing she could
divorce him even if he didn't want it.

Her hands shook.

Why did he unnerve her? He was just a stranger. But he didn't
feel like it. She believed his eyes could see right inside her soul. And
the way he cared for her and Betsy was like coming home. How
could her life have spiraled so far out of control? Her identity as
Jon's wife seemed to be slipping away right now. She was living
someone else's life.

She stood and went to the door. Peeking out, she listened to the
sounds of the kids downstairs playing card games. She could probably
slip down the stairs and get to the library without being seen. She
needed to hear Yo's voice.

She was so alone here. No one else knew everything she'd gone
through. Rick still looked at her with suspicious eyes, and she felt like
an outsider. Scrubbing the moisture from her cheeks, she lifted her
head. Whining wasn't allowed in her life. She could handle this, especially if she could talk to Yo.

Easing through the door, she tiptoed to the stairs and moved noiselessly down to the first floor. Darting toward the library, she caught a
glimpse of Rick's back, where he stood watching the kids. Emilio
slapped his hand on the table and crowed his delight about winning. In
the bedlam, she hoped no one heard the squeak of the door opening.

She just couldn't face Rick right now.

The lock snicked home, and she went to the phone. Listening to
the dial tone, she wondered how upset Yolanda would be to hear she'd
married a stranger. The phone seemed to ring forever. It was Yo's cell number, so maybe she was in a mall or something. Glancing at the
clock on the desk, Allie realized it was too late for shopping. Maybe
she'd left it at home.

Then a click came finally. "Hello." It wasn't Yolanda's voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have the wrong number."

"Allie, that you?"

Allie realized the voice was that of Yolanda's mother. "Mrs.
Fleming? Yes, it's me. Is Yo around?"

A long pause hissed back at her. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" Something in the woman's voice made Allie clutch
the phone and sink into the chair.

"MyYo, he killed her. She's dead, Allie." The woman's voice rose
in a sob.

Allie's hand spasmed around the phone. "What are you saying?" she
whispered. Dead?Yo couldn't be dead.

"Stabbed, she was stabbed." The woman's cries grew louder, near
hysteria.

NotYo, oh please God, notYo.

Allie closed her eyes. She couldn't force any words past her frozen
lips.Yo's laughing face flashed through her memory. She was going to
win the barrel race this year. It wasn't fair.

"She called me, said the man said she was next. He say that you
love her too much for him to let her live. I send her father to her
house, but it is too late. The man, he get there first." Mrs. Fleming was
wailing, her sobs piercing Allie's heart as well as her ears.

Allie's tears felt hot with guilt. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"When did this happen?"

Mrs. Fleming's sobs tapered off. "Last night. Wait, wait, my husband, he want to talk to you."

Mr. Fleming was a big African-American truck driver who had
met the pretty Mexican waitress and married her thirty-eight years
ago. He'd always made Allie feel like part of the family. He probably
hated her now.

"Allie? Stay there, girl. Don't come home."

"Mr. Fleming," she choked. "I'm so sorry. I lovedYo so much."

"I know, Allie, I know. And she loved you. This is not your fault,
you hear? Don't try making it about you. Whoever he is, it was his evil
that killed my baby, not you." His voice thickened and broke. "You stay
put. Don't make Yo die in vain."

"I -I can't talk. I'll call you tomorrow." Allie clicked off the
phone and buried her face in her hands. No matter what Mr. Fleming
said,Yo wouldn't have died if it wasn't for Allie. He had taken everyone she loved.

Everyone but Betsy.

Allie shuddered, then jumped when someone rattled at the door.

Rick's voice came from the other side. "Allie, are you in there?"

She scrubbed at her face and rushed to unlock the door. It opened
as soon as she clicked the lock, and she hurtled into Rick's arms, not
stopping to question why she needed his comfort, his strength.

"She's dead," she sobbed against his denim shirt.

His arms came around her, and a big hand smoothed the back of
her head. "Who's dead?"

His shirt muffled her words. "My friend Yolanda. He's taking everyone I love." She clutched his shirt in both fists. "She can't be gone."

The scent of creosote clung to his clothing. He must have been
clearing some of the bush out of the yard this afternoon. She hadn't
been close enough to him to smell it before this. The aroma always
made her think of summer rides across the desert with Jon, and the spring rains in El Paso that brought the pungent scent to life. It reminded
her of sage and cactus, roasted marshmallows around the campfire.

And love later in the tent. But now there was only death all
around her.

The thought made her cheeks burn, and she pulled away, swiping
the back of her hand across her cheeks. "Sorry," she gulped.

Rick's hands moved to her shoulders, and he didn't let go. "So he
doesn't know where you are. That should set your mind at ease that
Elijah wasn't killed by him."

Allie hadn't thought of Elijah. "Then who killed him?"

"I'm going to check out this developer guy, the one who wanted
to buy the ranch." He finally dropped his hands. "But we might be
barking up the wrong tree. It might have been an accident."

"Maybe." Allie had found that most things in her life were interconnected. This probably was too, once they figured it out. "I should
call the police in El Paso, tell them whatYo's dad said."

"I'm sure he's already talked to them. They'll be looking for you
and might make you go back as a material witness. We can't risk that.
You and Betsy are safe here." His eyes narrowed, and his mouth took
on a determined pinch.

Allie was suddenly very glad he was on her side. Rick wouldn't let
anything happen to her or Betsy.

Fatigue and grief weighed her down. This day seemed like it would
never end. She told Rick good night and headed to her room. Walking
back upstairs, she twisted the ring on her finger. She was a married
woman.

One in name only. Was there anything more pathetic?

THE HOUSE WAS QUIET EXCEPT FOR THE TICKING OF THE GRANDFATHER
clock in the hall. Rick sat in the leather desk chair with his feet propped
on the desk. He still hadn't been able to take in the reality that Allie was
Elijah's granddaughter. Elijah hadn't trusted him with the information,
and the betrayal left some cuts that would take time to heal.

And Allie. Rick should have put two and two together when he
saw the resemblance between her and Maria. Had she always planned
to come in here and worm her way into Elijah's graces?

He decided to call Brendan again. His friend might have found
some new information. The stakes had just escalated. If someone was
coming after Allie and Betsy, he couldn't wait for the guy to show up.

It was after midnight on the East Coast, but he knew Brendan would be up working anyway. He listened to the ringing with one ear and to
the noises outside with the other. Nothing stirred, a good sign.

There was a click on the line, then Brendan's voice. "Rick, you
know how late it is? What if I were all toasty in bed?"

"You never get to bed before two," Rick said. He was in no mood
for small talk. "Anything new about Allie?"

"Oh yeah, I meant to call you. We had a crisis pop up that we've
been scrambling to fix."

The old familiar tug of interest waylaid Rick, but he squelched it.
"Spill it."

"The crisis or the information about your woman?"

"She's not my woman. She's my ... wife"

Brendan whistled. "Talk about a whirlwind courtship."

If Brendan only knew. Rick could hardly believe it himself. "Look,
things are happening here. Elijah is dead, and someone is out to get
Allie and Betsy."

"The FBI is looking at her now, buddy, and not just for kidnapping.
They suspect her of being the ringleader of the immigrant smuggling
ring."

The ringleader? Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's a crock,
buddy. No way." He told Brendan about the man who had killed
Yolanda Fleming, and the calls Allie had gotten. "Could this guy have
planted evidence?"

"Maybe. According to my sources, immigration was tipped off
about the ring using the rodeo for a front. And here's the funny thing.
Your woman testified against someone doing this about a year and a
half ago. Because of her testimony, he got sent to jail. Then here we
find she was involved all along. I gotta say, I wonder if they were lovers
or something. Maybe he dumped her and she turned him in"

"She's not the type," Rick said. He hoped that was true, but what
did he really know of her? "How'd they become suspicious of Allie
now?"

"Someone faxed pictures of a bunch of Mexicans climbing out of
the back of a pickup. The license plates were Allie's. Does she have an
old Ford truck green?"

"Yeah. Could the pictures be doctored? Don't you think this
sounds suspicious, Brendan? Maybe it's revenge for sending the kingpin to jail."