It was just after two in the morning, and Charlie sat in the recliner chair by the window in the living room, staring out at the moonlit night.
He’d grown up on the ranch, and some of his happiest memories were of things that occurred here. He’d loved the feel of a horse beneath him and the smell of the rich earth, but in college, his head had gotten twisted, and suddenly the ranch hadn’t seemed good enough for him.
He’d been a fool. A shallow, stupid fool.
A year ago he would have never dreamed that he’d be back here on the ranch. He’d been living in the fast lane, making more money than he’d ever dreamed possible and enjoying a lifestyle of excess.
Meeting Grace had been the icing on the cake. He’d eagerly looked forward to the two weekends a month she came into town and stayed with him. Although he would have liked more from her, he got the feeling from her that he was an indulgence, like eating ice cream twice a month. But nobody really wanted a steady diet of ice cream.
He’d thought he was her boy toy. They’d never spoken about their relationship, never laid down ground rules or speculated on where it was going. They’d just enjoyed it.
Until that night. That crazy Friday night when things—when he—had spiraled out of control.
He shoved these thoughts from his mind and closed his eyes and drew a weary breath. He was tired, but sleep remained elusive. The attack on her earlier tonight worried him because it didn’t make sense.
If the goal of the person in the store had been to rob it, then why carry in a bat, why not a gun? Why leave the cash register untouched and go after Grace? Had he thought that her cash might be locked away in the office? Possibly.
He sat up straighter in his chair as he sensed movement in the hallway. He reached over and turned on the small lamp on the table next to his chair.
Grace appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a short, pink silk robe tied around her slender waist, and her hair was tousled from sleep. She didn’t appear to be surprised that he was still awake.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
“I had a bad dream. I tried to go back to sleep, but decided maybe it was time for another pain pill.” She walked across the room to the sofa and curled up with her bare legs beneath her. “What’s your excuse for being up this time of the night?”
“No bad dreams, just confusing thoughts.”
“What kind of confusing thoughts?” she asked, and then held up a hand. “Wait, I don’t want to know, at least not tonight.” She reached up and smoothed a strand of her golden hair away from her face. “Talk to me about pleasant things, Charlie. I feel like the last couple of days have been nothing but bad things. Tell me about your life here at the ranch. What made you decide to move back here?”
“You heard about Dad’s heart attack?”
She nodded. “And I’m sorry.”
“Initially I was just going to come back here to deal with whatever needed to be taken care of to get the place on the market and sold, but something happened in those days right after I buried Dad.”
He paused a moment and stared back out the window, but it was impossible to see anything but his own reflection. In truth, his life had begun a transformation on the night that Grace left him, but he knew she wouldn’t want to hear that, probably wouldn’t believe him, anyway.
He looked back at her. “I realized that I hated my life, that I missed waking up in the mornings and hearing the cows lowing in the pasture, that I missed the feel of a horse beneath me and the warm sun on my back. I realized it was time to come home to Cotter Creek.”
She leaned her head back against the cushions. “When I was planning to open a dress shop, William told me I could use the money he loaned me to open one anywhere in the country, but it never entered my mind to be anywhere but here,” she said. “Cotter Creek is and always will be home. I love it here, the small-town feel, the people, everything. Has the transition been tough for you?”
“Learning the ins and outs of ranching has been challenging,” he admitted. “Even though I grew up here I never paid much attention to the day-to-day details. I already had my sights set on something different than the ranch. My ranch hands have had a fine time tormenting the city boy in me. The first thing they told me was that cow manure was a natural cleaner for Italian leather shoes.”
She laughed and that’s exactly what he’d wanted, to hear that rich, melodic sound coming from her. She was a woman made for laughter, and for the next few minutes he continued to tell her about the silly things that had happened when he’d first taken over the ranch.
He embellished each story as necessary to get the best entertainment value—needing, wanting, to keep her laughing so the dark shadows of fear and worry wouldn’t claim her eyes again.
“Stop,” she finally said, her arms wrapped around her ribs.
“You need that pain pill now?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. To be honest, what I’d like is something to eat. Maybe I could just fix a quick sandwich or something. I didn’t eat dinner last night,” she said with a touch of apology.
“I’ll bet there’s some leftover roast beef from Rosa’s dinner in the fridge. Want to come into the kitchen or do you want me to fix you a plate and bring it to you?”
She unfolded those long, shapely legs of hers. “I’ll come to the kitchen.” She stood and frowned. “We won’t wake up Rosa, will we?”
“Nah. First of all she sleeps like the dead, and secondly her room is on the other side of the house.” Charlie got up and followed her into the kitchen, trying not to notice how the silky robe clung to her lush curves.
He flipped on the kitchen light, and as she slid into a chair at the table, he walked over to the refrigerator, then turned back to look at her. “If you’d rather not have leftover roast, I could whip up an omelet with toast.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You never used to cook.”
He knew she was remembering that when they had been seeing each other he’d always taken his meals out, keeping only prepared food in his apartment that required nothing more than opening a lid or popping it into the microwave.
“When I came back here to the ranch, I learned survival cooking skills. Rosa takes three days off a week to stay with her son and his family, and during those days I’m on my own. So, cooking became a necessity, and to my surprise I rather like it.”
“The roast beef is fine,” she replied.
He felt her gaze lingering on him as he got out the leftover meat and potatoes and arranged them on a plate, then ladled gravy over everything and popped it into the microwave.
Was she remembering those midnight raids they’d made on his refrigerator after making love? When they’d eat cold chicken with their fingers or eat ice cream out of the carton?
Did she remember anything good about their time together, or had his betrayal left only the bad times in her head?
“Are you dating, Grace? Got a special fella in your life?” he asked.
She raised a perfectly arched blond eyebrow. “If I had somebody special in my life, I wouldn’t be sitting here now,” she replied, confirming what he’d already assumed. “I’ve been too busy at the shop to date, besides the fact that I’m just not interested in a relationship.”
The microwave dinged and Charlie turned around to retrieve the food. He wanted to ask her if he was responsible for the fact that she didn’t want a relationship, if he’d left such a bad mark on her heart that she wasn’t interested in ever pursuing a relationship again. If that was the case, it would be tragic.
He placed the steaming plate before her, got her a glass of milk and sat across from her as she began to eat.
“What about you?” she asked between bites. “Are you dating somebody here in town? I’m sure there were plenty of fluttering hearts when the news got out that you had moved back.”
“I would venture a guess that yours wasn’t one of those that fluttered?”
She raised that dainty eyebrow again. “That would be a good guess,” she replied.
He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “I’m not seeing anyone, haven’t for quite some time. Apparently Dad hadn’t been feeling well for a while before his death, and the ranch had kind of gotten away from him. I’ve been incredibly busy since I moved back. I haven’t had the time or the inclination to date.”
“Charlie Black too busy for fun? Hold the presses!” she exclaimed.
He gazed at her for a long moment. “You’ve got to stop that, Grace,” he finally said. “If you want my continued help, you need to stop with the not-so-subtle digs. I understand how you feel about me. You don’t have to remind me with sarcastic cuts.”
She held his gaze as a tinge of pink filled her cheeks. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She turned her attention to her plate and set her fork down. “I’m just so filled with anger right now and you’re an easy target.”
He leaned forward and covered her hand with his, surprised when she didn’t pull away from him. “We’ll sort this all out, Grace. I promise you.”
She surprised him further by turning her hand over and entwining her fingers with his. “I hope so. Right now everything just seems like such a mess.”
“It is a mess,” he agreed. “But messes can be cleaned up.” Except the one he’d made with her, he reminded himself.
She let go of his hand and picked up her fork once again. As she continued to eat, Charlie once again spoke of ranch life, trying to keep the conversation light and easy.
When she was finished eating, she started to get up to take her plate to the sink, but he stopped her and instead grabbed the dish himself.
“I’m not used to somebody waiting on me,” she said.
“You never struck me as a woman who wanted or needed anyone to wait on you,” he replied, as he rinsed the dishes and stuck them in the dishwasher. “One of your strengths is that you’re self-reliant and independent. And one of your weaknesses is that you’re self-reliant and independent.” He smiled and pointed a finger at her. “And no, that doesn’t open the door for you to point out all my weaknesses.”
She laughed, then reached up and touched her temple. “Now I think I’m ready for a pain pill and some more sleep.”
When she got up from the table, Charlie tried unsuccessfully not to notice that her robe had come untied. As she stood, he caught a glimpse of the curve of her creamy breast just above the neckline of the pink nightgown she wore beneath.
Desire jolted through him, stunning him with the force of it. Maybe this was his penance, he thought, as he followed her out of the kitchen. Fate had forced them together, and his punishment was to want her forever and never have the satisfaction of possessing her again.
As they passed through the living room, he turned out the lamp, knowing that if he didn’t get some sleep tonight he wouldn’t be worth a plugged nickel the next day.
When they reached the door to her room, she turned and looked at him. Her gaze seemed softer than it had since the moment she’d pulled up in her convertible and demanded his help.
“Thank you, Charlie, for feeding me and letting me stay here tonight. I really appreciate everything.” She reached up and placed her palm on the side of his cheek, and he fought the impulse to turn his face into her touch. “Part of you is such a good man.”
She dropped her hand to her side. “I just wish I could forgive and forget the parts of you that aren’t such a good man.”
She turned and went into the bedroom, closing the door firmly in his face.
Grace woke with the sun slashing through the gauzy curtains and the sound of horse hooves someplace in the distance. She remained in bed, thinking about her life, about what lay ahead and, finally, about Charlie.
Funny that the man who had hurt her more than any man in her life was also the one who made her feel the most safe. She’d slept without worry, comforted by the fact that Charlie was in the room across the hall.
Surely it was just because of all that had happened, that she’d so easily let him back in her life.
She was off-kilter, careening around in a landscape that was utterly foreign to her. Was it any wonder she’d cling to the one person she’d thought she’d known better than anyone else in the world?
With a low moan, she finally pulled herself to a sitting position on the side of the bed. She’d felt awful the night before, and although her head had stopped pounding, her body felt as if it had been contorted in positions previously unknown to the human body.
Her ribs were sore, but not intolerably so. No more pain pills, she told herself, as she headed for the bathroom. What she needed was a hot shower to loosen her muscles and clear her head. Then she needed to get Charlie to take her home.
Before falling asleep last night, she’d come to the conclusion that the attack in the shop had been an attempted robbery. It was the only thing that made sense.
The robber had obviously thought there was nothing in the register and probably assumed she had a safe or a cash box in the office. He probably wouldn’t have attacked her at all if she’d gone directly to the front door and left instead of noticing the sway of the clothes on the rack in front of his hiding place. She went to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
She’d never felt such terror as when he’d jumped out of the clothes rack and raced toward her, the long object held over his head. If he’d hit her just a little harder, he could have bashed her skull in and killed her.
Shivering, she quickly stepped beneath the hot spray of water, needing the warmth to cast away the chill her thought evoked.
The shower did help, although her ribs still ached when she drew a deep breath or moved too fast. She dressed in the jeans and blouse she’d packed in her overnight bag, then left the bedroom in search of Charlie.
She found Rosa in the kitchen by herself. The plump woman sat at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her. When she saw Grace, she jumped to her feet with surprising agility.
“Sit,” Grace exclaimed. “Just point me to the cabinet with the cups. I can get my own coffee.”
“What about breakfast?” Rosa asked, as she pointed a finger to the cabinet next to the sink. “You should eat something.”
“Nothing for me. I’m fine. I had some of your roast beef at about three this morning. It was delicious, by the way.” Grace poured herself a cup of the coffee and joined the housekeeper at the table. “Where’s Charlie?”
“Out riding the ranch. He should be back in a little while. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Sore, but better than last night.” Grace took a sip of the coffee.
“Charlie was worried about you. I could see it in his eyes. He used to get that look when his mama was having bad days. She had cancer, you know. She was diagnosed when he was ten and didn’t pass away until he was fourteen. Those four years were tough on him, but I’m sure you knew all that.”
“Actually, I didn’t,” Grace replied. She’d known that Charlie’s mother had passed away when he was a teenager, but that was all she’d known.
At that moment, the back door opened and he walked in, bringing with him that restless energy he possessed and the scent of sunshine and horseflesh. The smile he offered her shot a starburst of warmth through her.
“Grace, how are you feeling?” He shrugged out of a navy jacket and hung it on a hook near the backdoor, then walked to the cabinet and grabbed a cup.
“Better. A little sore, but I think I’m going to live.” She didn’t want to notice how utterly masculine he looked in his worn jeans and the white T-shirt that pulled taut across his broad shoulders. With his lean hips and muscled chest and arms, he definitely turned women’s heads.
She’d always thought he was born to wear a suit—that elegant dress slacks and button-down shirts were made for him. But she’d been mistaken. He looked equally hot in his casual wear.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said, as he joined them at the table. “Did you get breakfast?”
“Said she didn’t want any,” Rosa replied.
“And I don’t. What I’d like is for you to take me home now.” She looked at Charlie expectantly.
He frowned and Rosa stood, looking from one to the other. “I’m going to go take care of some laundry,” she said, and left the two of them alone at the table.
Charlie took a sip of his coffee, eyeing her over the rim of the mug. “I wish you’d consider staying here for a couple more days,” he said.
“There’s no reason to do that. I’m feeling much better.” She wrapped her fingers around her cup as his frown deepened.
“You might be feeling better, but I’m not. I don’t like what happened to you last night, Grace.”
She laughed. “I wasn’t too excited about it, either, but it was an attempted robbery. It could have happened to anyone.”
“But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to you.” His gaze held hers intently. “And given what happened to William, it just makes me nervous. It makes me damned nervous.”
She leaned back in her chair and looked at him in surprise. “Surely you can’t think that one thing had anything to do with the other?” she exclaimed. “You’re overreacting, Charlie.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, and took another sip of his coffee.
“How can you possibly connect what happened to William to the attack on me at the store last night?”
“I can’t right now.” His lips were thin with tension. “But, I’d prefer we be too cautious than not cautious enough.”
“Then I’ll do things differently at the store. I realize now how incredibly stupid it was of me to leave the shop door unlocked when I was in the back room. Maybe whoever came in knew that it was payday and hoped I’d have some of the payroll in cash. I just can’t believe it was anything other than that, and there’s no reason for me to stay here another night.”
She wasn’t going to let him talk her into staying. Last night after he’d fixed her the meal and walked her back to the bedroom, she’d almost kissed him. When she’d placed her palm on the side of his face, she’d wanted to lean in and take his mouth with hers.
It had been an insane impulse, one that she was grateful she hadn’t followed through on, but she felt the need to gain some distance from him.
There was no way she wanted to stay here another night with him. She was more than a little weak where he was concerned.
“I suppose you’re going to be stubborn about this,” he said.
“I suppose so,” she agreed.
He drained his coffee cup and got up from the table. “Just let me take a quick shower and I’ll take you home.”
“Actually you can just drop me at the shop.”
“You’re actually planning to work today?” He raised an eyebrow in disapproval. “Don’t you think it would be wise to give yourself a day of rest?” He carried his coffee cup to the sink.
“Actually, I think you’re right. While you’re showering, I’ll make arrangements for somebody else to work both today and this evening. My ribs are still pretty sore, and I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. A day of lazing around sounds pretty good.”
He nodded, as if satisfied with her answer. “Give me fifteen, twenty minutes, then I’ll be ready to take you to get your car.”
As he left the kitchen, Grace sipped her coffee. Although she didn’t want to admit it, there was a part of her that dreaded going back into the store, where last night she’d thought she was going to die.
She heard a phone ring someplace in the back of the house. It rang only once and then apparently was answered. It reminded her that she needed to make some calls.
She dug her cell phone out of her purse, grateful that Rosa had left it on the kitchen table where she would find it easily this morning. She made the calls to arrange for the shop to run smoothly without her today. Thankfully she had dependable and trustworthy employees to take over for her. She also needed to check on the final funeral arrangements for William.
When the calls were finished, she got up from the table and carried her cup to the sink, then went back to the bedroom to retrieve her overnight bag.
She could hear running water and knew Charlie was in the shower. She sat on the edge of the bed as memories swept over her—memories of hot, steaming water and Charlie gliding a bar of soap over her shoulders and down her back, of the feel of his soapy hands cupping her breasts, of his slick body pressed against her. More than once they’d left the shower stall, covered with suds and fallen into Charlie’s king-sized bed to finish what they’d started.
She shook her head to dislodge the old images. Rising from the bed, she grabbed her bag, then went back into the kitchen to wait for Charlie.
Grace pulled out her cell phone and called the hospital. “Hi, honey,” she said when Hope’s voice filled the line.
“Grace!” Hope instantly began to cry.
“Hope, what’s wrong?” Grace squeezed the phone more tightly against her ear. “Honey, why are you crying? Has something happened?”
“I heard from a nurse this morning that something bad happened to you last night, that you were attacked. I thought I’d never see you again, that it would be just like Mom and you’d be gone forever.”
Grace wished she could reach through the line and hug her sister. “I’m not going anywhere, Hope. You can always depend on me,” she said fervently.
Again she mentally cursed her mother for abandoning them, for going away and leaving behind so many questions and so much pain.
“It was a robbery attempt, Hope, but I’m okay. I promise and we’re going to be okay. You and I together, we’re going to be just fine. We’re going to get through all of this.” She glanced up as Charlie entered the room, bringing with him the scent of minty soap and shaving cream. “I’ll be in to see you sometime this morning, okay? You just hang in there. You have to be strong.”
She hung up and stood to face Charlie. “I’m ready,” she said.
“You’d better sit back down.”
It was only then that she saw the darkness in his eyes, the muscle working in his jaw. A screaming alarm went off inside her.
“Why? What’s going on?” Her heart began to beat a frantic rhythm and her legs threatened to buckle as she sat once again.
“I got a call from Zack.” He frowned, as if searching for words, which was ridiculous because Charlie was never at a loss for them. “Hope is being arrested this morning. She’s going to be charged with first-degree murder.”
Grace grabbed hold of the top of the table, her fingertips biting into the wood as his words reverberated through her head.