"I found my scanner," she said, turning toward Jack. "It's working"
He stepped over to join her. "You think this is related to the phone call?"
"What else could it be?" Looking at the destruction, she felt as if her insides were hollowed out. It felt personal, as though someone hated her. She'd never had a personal enemy that she knew of, and now some stranger was out to terrorize her.
"Mexican vagrants maybe, looking for drugs or money."
She shook her head. "We've had illegals break into the barn or the house through the years. They're too scared to take the time to cause such destruction. This looks like someone didn't find what they were searching for, so they decided to do as much damage as possible."
He glanced at the scanner and held out his hand. "Let me run it over your skin."
She showed him how to use it and where to look for the readout. Holding out her arm, she prayed he found nothing. All she wanted to do was get on with her life.
His rough fingers steadied her arm with an impersonal touch. She stared at the nicks and cuts on his hands. Work hands that could cradle an injured horse or a crying child with equal ease.
She glanced at her watch on the extended arm. "We don't have much time. We need to get out to the training ground."
"We'll get there. We need to call the sheriff too." He began to move the scanner over her arm. When the scanner reached the top outer area of her arm, he paused. "I've got a reading"
She closed her eyes briefly. She'd so hoped there would be nothing. "What's it say?"
"It's a set of numbers. 07623876. Mean anything to you?"
She shook her head. "The ID numbers I use are longer. We've got to get it out, see what we can find out about it."
"How do you do that?"
She sighed. "It will take surgery. I'll have to get it cut out." She glanced at her watch. "We've got to get going."
"Just a minute." He lifted the desk back onto its legs and began to pick up the papers on the floor.
"I can do that later."
"I'm here now." He continued to work until the papers were stacked on the desk again and the furniture was upright. "One of the chair legs is broken. I'll fix it after work." He went toward the door. "I'll call the sheriff on the way. We'll leave the office unlocked for him. It's not like anyone could do any more damage."
She listened to him call in the problem as they drove off. If only she could talk to Mary Beth without interruption, get her to explain the chip. What would have numbers like that? A password? A bank account? If only she knew what she was dealing with.
When they reached the mustang training camp, Jack parked in the lot and didn't get out. Instead he glanced at her, and his green eyes seemed to really see her. A person who was scared and hurting, not someone who was in the way of his plans. Shannon found she liked being the focus of his attention.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Her initial response was to deny her fear, but that would keep the barrier up between them, and she wanted to start removing the bricks in it. She leaned back against the headrest. "I'm scared. Mostly for Mary Beth. I want this to be over."
The back of his hand grazed her cheek. The deliberate touch made her inhale. Her gaze sought his. All the feelings she'd had for him when she was a teenager bubbled to the surface, but she buried them again. He meant nothing but kindness.
"Two blows, one right after the other," Jack said. "I know Faith's reaction to the news hurt you."
"But not you," she said, drawing away so his hand fell. "You want Faith to love and remember Blair."
"Actually, I felt bad," he said. "We are married, whether we like it or not. I can't imagine anything worse than spending the next fifteen years fighting. I'd like us to at least be friends."
A tight bud of pain relaxed. Could he be sincere? Shannon stared at the strong line of his jaw. "I'd like that too." Before she could chicken out, she leaned across the truck and brushed her lips across his, then leaped from the truck before she could read his expression.
19
JACK TOUCHED HIS LIPS AND STARED AFTER SHANNON'S RETREATING BACK. Knowing what he knew now, he was willing to admit to himself that she was exactly what she said: a mother intent on making sure both daughters were cared for and loved. A vet who loved her patients and cared about her community.
And maybe someone he could love. Was Rick right? Was it possible to decide to love someone? To act on it without the emotion being there?
He leaped out of the truck and ran after her. When he caught up with her, Shannon's color was high. Maybe she feared he was going to be upset about the kiss. All the things he wanted to say dried on his tongue. "Make sure you're not alone today," he said. "With that guy breaking into the office and not finding anything, he might be more active today."
"I'm not afraid. I brought my pistol in my pack."
"You might not have time to get to it. There are plenty of people around. Stay out of the barns when they're empty and avoid the bunkhouses."
Her brilliant eyes flashed. "Look, Jack, I'm not some hothouse flower that shrinks back at the first sign of danger. I've lived in a big city in a not-so-nice part of town. I know how to take care of myself."
"I'd be a poor husband if I didn't try to make sure you're safe. We're pulling together in the harness now, Shannon."
The fire in her eyes died, and she shrugged. "Are you my husband?" She bit her lip as though she was sorry the words had escaped.
A slow burn started in his belly. "Some days you make me feel about as welcome in your life as a skunk at a dinner party." He stepped closer until she backed up against the side of the mess hall. He was tired of denying the emotion simmering between them. He cupped her cheek in his palm, then pulled her into his arms. She didn't resist. His mouth came down on hers, and a current seemed to flow through them both, binding them together. Her lips were soft and pliable and she smelled sweeter than a field of bluebells. Her arms crept around his neck. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
Catcalls from behind brought him out of the trance. He tore himself away. Her eyes were dreamy, and she blinked. A bemused smile tugged at her mouth, a smile he answered with one of his own.
"This ain't your bedroom," a cowboy called. "Time to get to work."
Jack didn't turn. He was drowning in those amazing eyes. "If you need to go somewhere, don't go alone. Call me on your cell phone and I'll come with you." Lame comment, but it was easier than talking about what had just happened.
She caught her lower lip in her teeth and cleared her throat. "My cell goes dead for no reason," she said. "I might not be able to get you."
"At least try."
She nodded but with obvious reluctance. "It's not easy for me to depend on anyone but myself."
"You need to learn. We're a partnership. What would happen to the girls if that guy killed you?" He wanted to pull her back into his arms but resisted.
"He won't kill me. He wants his money. I only wish I could give it to him and make him free Mary Beth."
"He might come after you for the fun of it." The thought made him wince.
She smiled. "Listen to yourself, Jack. This isn't some shoot-'em- up movie." She waved a hand. "I'll just get this chip out and be done with it."
"You don't believe that," he said. "It's okay to share your worry with someone. You don't have to carry your problems alone. I want to help."
She glanced back at him then, her eyes darkened to indigo. "I'm more afraid of you than of the guy who's threatening me."
"Is this the same woman who just told me she wanted a husband?"
"I didn't say that. Not exactly." She pulled her hair forward, twisting a lock of it in her fingers. She stared at him. "I have to say you're a good kisser."
"I'm not sure you've had much experience to compare," he said dryly, though his pulse galloped at her words. He'd like to practice that again.
Pink stained her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze.
Why was he trying to convince her to depend on him? He'd gone into the marriage with the idea that they would be two people living in the same house for the sake of the girls. He'd never intended that they'd have any real partnership, but he found it intriguing to imagine getting under that beautiful skin to understand her better.
SHANNON FOUND HERSELF THINKING ABOUT THAT KISS AT ODD TIMES DURING the day. Every now and then, she found herself touching her lips and remembering the minty scent of his breath.
When the sun was high overhead, she trotted across an open field to the mess hall. Now that she had a free minute, she was going to try to get hold of Mary Beth again. Yesterday's call had reassured her that her friend was alive, but there was so much she didn't understand. She propped her boot on the lower rung of a fence and got out her cell phone. Drat, the thing was dead again.
A familiar long-legged lope caught her gaze. She squinted in the bright sunshine at the man coming toward her. "Curt, I thought you'd be long gone by now. What are you doing here?"
Her cousin wore an easy grin under his cowboy hat, a genuine Stetson Beaver. The hat covered his blond hair, but his blue eyes were as vivid as Shannon's own. "I went home and came back this morning"
Shannon fell into step with him and they walked toward the building "Did you find what you were looking for at the ranch?"
"Nope. Not a sign of it, but I got to thinking about Dad's picture albums. I know everything belongs to you, but I'd like to have them if you don't mind."
"Of course you can have them! I wish you'd take half the property. It rightfully belongs to you."
Curt shrugged. "I don't need the money. My business is almost more than I can handle. I told Dad if he left it to me, I'd just sell it. I think he saw leaving it to you as a possible way of keeping it in the family."
Sometimes she thought his bravado was all show, but as she stared at his expensive clothing and caught a peek at his brand new SUV, today wasn't one of those times. He probably was doing every bit as well as he said. She didn't need to dwell on the guilt that plagued her.
"You know where the albums are? I'll stop by the house and get them."
She tried to remember, then shook her head. "I haven't seen them anywhere, but they might be in the attic. There used to be several chests up there, and Uncle Earl squirreled away stuff up there all the time."
Curt grimaced. "There might be bats up there."
Her cousin hated bats. He'd gotten one in his hair once and had run screaming like a girl. "Probably are," she said. "They get in that hole in the west end of the attic. Want me to get them for you?"
"Shannon, girl adventurer," Curt said, his grin widening. "You sure you don't mind?"
"I'll take a tennis racquet up with me."
He shuddered. "Better you than me. I don't know how you stand the things. When should I stop by to get them?"
"It will be this weekend before I have a chance to go. The trainers give the horses a rest on Saturday and Sunday."
"Want me to go with you? The sheriff talked to me about the break-ins out there. Guess he thought I might have had something to do with them. I told him the ranch was good riddance as far as I was concerned."
"Me too," Shannon said. "I was going to live there because I had no choice, but it's in terrible shape."
Curt studied her face. "You happy, Shannon? The marriage working out?"
She'd bet no one dared ask Jack these questions. "I'm happy," she said. "Jack is a good man."
"How long have you known him?"
Her laugh sounded shrill to her ears. "What is this, twenty questions? Since when did you care about my love life, Curt?"
He shrugged. "Seems odd, that's all. A big shot like Jack MacGowan marrying a . . .
She knew what her uncle and Curt thought of her. "A what? An unwed mother? A slut who doesn't deserve him? A crazy woman the whole town whispered about?"
The tips of his ears reddened. "That's not what I said."
"But it's what you thought." She squared her shoulders and faced him down. Would she never live down her reputation? One mistake and the town had marked her as poor white trash. She saw the expression in people's eyes at the grocery store, at the hardware store. Until they remembered she was the vet now. Then they pasted on a smile. People in small towns had a long memory and they all knew her entire history.
Curt's lips tightened and he shook his finger in her face. "Don't put words in my mouth. I'm glad you managed to overcome your past. You came out smelling like a rose, that's for sure." He flicked a finger toward Jack, who was working his mustang in the corral. "The wealthiest man in the area."
"I'm most proud of making it on my own," Shannon said quietly. "I put myself through college and vet school and came here to start my own practice. I didn't need a man to validate my accomplishments."
"Then why'd you marry him?"
Shannon glanced over at Jack. He still didn't know about her MS. Would he have married her if she'd revealed her illness? "It's complicated," she said.
"He has a daughter, right? From a previous marriage? I hope you didn't bite off more than you can chew."
She could have told him Faith was her daughter. She could have told him her fears about the future. She might even have explained that Jack had loomed as an important person to her since she was a teenager, but in the end, she shrugged. "For the same reasons anyone gets married. What about you? Any little woman in your future?"
"Not likely. Women just want a guy's money."
Had Jack thought that about her? Shannon hated the thought he might consider her a gold digger.
JACK'S MOUTH WAS AS DRY AS SAND, AND HIS MUSCLES ACHED. A GOOD kind of ache though, one born of hard work and determination. Friday afternoon he looped his rope over his shoulder and walked toward the mess hall. His stomach rumbled, but he was more interested in swilling a bottle of cold water.
A man fell into step beside him. "Got a minute, Mr. MacGowan?"
Jack recognized him as the reporter for a news channel in San Antonio. "Sure." The more publicity the event drew, the more mustangs would find adoptive homes.