sixteen

SEDONA, ARIZONA

Sarah put down the phone receiver. Jessie was returning.

She sat down heavily. She wished she weren’t so tired. Sometimes her heart hurt so badly she thought she wouldn’t live through another day. She wanted to live long enough to ensure the safety of the Sunset. She wanted even more to leave her son a piece of it.

An era was disappearing. A way of life fading into something called progress. The Sunset was one of the last remaining working ranches in the area. The rest had been redesigned into dude ranches, or bed-and-breakfast inns or resorts.

Was it so wrong to keep alive just one? Somehow she had to persuade Jessica to help her do that.

Sarah didn’t know what had made Jessie flee days earlier. She only knew that the girl had done exactly that. Fled. From her. From the Sunset. From her heritage.

And she wasn’t a tender shoot easily bruised. She had strength. Sarah knew that when she hadn’t panicked the night she’d lost her way. The family hadn’t daunted her. But what most impressed Sarah was that she’d never asked for a thing.

She’d known then what she had to do. She’d kept her failing health from the family. Now she wasn’t above using it to bring the girl back. She’d didn’t have enough time to play fair.

She’d realized that she could die at any time. Unfortunately, Ross couldn’t inherit her share of the ranch. But a blood relative could. And there was only one that she would trust with the Sunset. She had meant to tell Jessie the moment the DNA tests were confirmed, but the girl disappeared into her other life. She’d sent yellow roses to Sarah, though, a thoughtful thank-you.

When the DNA results came in, Sarah had asked Alex to plead with Jessie to return, to use her health if necessary.

She had expected an argument. Strangely enough, she didn’t receive one. Instead, he’d merely suggested that she would probably outlive them all. It was then, and only then, that she told him there was some urgency to the matter. His subsequent phone conversation with Jessica, as related to her, had been disappointing. She hadn’t refused to come, but she hadn’t caught the first plane, either. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the girl wasn’t as enchanted with the Sunset as Sarah had thought.

Sarah thought she’d seen that glimmer of belonging in her eyes when they’d ridden together up to the Saddle. But then Marc … damn him.

She’d never had a chance to reassure her, to tell her that Marc’s accusations were only a reflex reaction against what he considered an obstacle in the way of something he wanted. Marc and Ross had always been like oil and water. Despite the fact that Marc, the golden child, had been much older, he’d always resented Ross, and particularly his father’s trust in him.

But he must know that Ross would never hurt him. He’d also known that even the slightest inference would set the police on Ross. Her son had never recovered from the accusation of rape, even after the girl recanted.

She sighed. She hoped Jessie would return. Perhaps they—she and Jessica—could go for another ride, a less eventful one. She looked at Jessie and saw herself, though she hoped Jessie wouldn’t make the same mistakes she’d made.

Or were they mistakes? Was loving too much a mistake? She’d forgiven her husband so many times she’d stopped counting them. She’d loved him so much that his son became her son, and she’d loved Ross with every fiber of her being. He made up for the children she hadn’t borne, that she’d so badly wanted. God had not seen fit to bless her. Because of what she’d once done?

She’d tried to protect the people she loved, no matter what she’d had to do. She’d forgiven their faults, made excuses for them, covered for them. Perhaps she’d shouldn’t have always done that with Harding. Perhaps then …

Sarah fought back tears. So many losses over the years.

Jessie offered her another chance. A chance to save the Sunset, to keep Ross here, even to save the entire family from tearing itself apart. If only she had the book … or knew where it was.

She often wondered whether Harding had thrown it away. Or perhaps Jessie wasn’t aware of what she had? She had hoped to gain her niece’s trust, but Marc and his accusations had obviously spooked her.

This time she would make sure everything went well. Thank God, Marc was back in Washington.

Jessie missed the anticipation she’d felt on her first drive up to Sedona. Her pleasure was now muted by a certain wariness.

There had been myriad reasons for her return so soon: Sarah’s health, the growing necessity to get answers to questions. The fear invading her life.

She had been stunned by it, by the apprehension she felt now when strangers entered the store and every time there was a knock on her cottage door. Her safe, quiet world had been disrupted. She wanted to know why. She’d worked too hard to conquer the fear that had haunted her after the rape, after the death of her father. She wasn’t going to surrender to it again. Not without a fight.

She didn’t want an inheritance, not if it contained the strings she was beginning to feel were attached. But she did want information. She wanted to feel safe again.

Sarah had the answers.

At least, her safe-deposit box was secure. She’d checked that before leaving, had even changed boxes although she’d been assured by a bank officer that she had nothing to worry about. They had safeguards. Still, she felt better.

She tried to relax as she fought the heavy traffic out of Phoenix. She’d been nervous the last time. But then she was going to meet a family she could either reject and accept, and its members could do the same. Now she might have the power to make a difference in its future.

It was a power she didn’t want.

She reached down with one hand and ran her fingers through Ben’s fur. She had decided to bring him, partly because of the disquiet that gnawed at her. He had survived one burglary. He might not survive another. There was another reason. She needed a friend, and he was the only one she was sure didn’t want anything from her. At least nothing but an occasional demonstration of love.

He’d endured the flight well, although he had given her an indignant look when she’d fetched him at the luggage department. She’d worried then that she’d made a mistake bringing him, but he was her family, and Alex had extended an invitation. She wanted him safe at her side.

She only wished that she’d had time to wait on Sol’s friend to study the primer. But that would have been another week. And after Alex’s call, she’d felt an urgency to return.

Be truthful. It was Ross as well. She hadn’t taken the time to pick apart his words that afternoon before she’d left. Now she had. She realized what he’d said and what he hadn’t said. She’d reacted to one word.

Perhaps because she knew the route now, it seemed no time at all until she drove up to the ranch house. The front drive was empty except for Ross’s pickup. Her heart thumped loudly. She wondered whether he was out on a horse or nearby.

Her question was answered immediately when she saw him emerge from the barn. Timber was at his side. Their eyes met. He hesitated, then started toward the car.

She got out, keeping Ben inside the car until she knew how Timber would react. Her breath caught in her throat as he walked toward her. He wasn’t wearing a hat, and his thick dark hair looked as if his fingers had combed it. She’d almost forgotten how tall he was, how he turned her insides to quivering jelly.

He’s dangerous, she reminded herself. Even if the rape charge was not true, Jessie knew she should be cautious. He’d told her what he had for a reason. He’d tried to scare her off.

Still, she couldn’t minimize the impact he had on her, the sheer jolt of electricity, the burning want he ignited in her.

She braced herself. “Ross?”

“I heard you were coming back,” he said. There wasn’t much welcome in his words, but she saw a momentary warmth in his eyes. His gaze was intent, studying her.

“Sarah wanted me,” she said simply.

“Sarah’s good at getting what she wants,” he said.

“And you?”

He shrugged.

Jessie suddenly felt tongue-tied, unsure. She hated that feeling. They had been so at ease with each other the night they’d had dinner. Tension radiated between them now, tension and energy and ambivalence. The conflicting emotions paralyzed her.

Ben barked from the interior of the car.

“You can let him out.” There was a touch of weariness in his voice, as if he knew what she was thinking. “Timber won’t hurt him.” I won’t hurt you.

She didn’t question his claim, either the spoken or silently conveyed. Instead, her skin seemed to prickle, even as she felt warmer than she should, even on a July day. She opened the door and Ben tumbled out with all the grace of a pregnant elephant. For a moment, his button eyes seemed to panic at the sight of Timber, and he edged close to her.

Timber started toward Ben.

“Stay,” Ross said. “Sit.” Then as the big dog sat, Ross went over to Ben and kneeled, whispered something to him, and scratched him behind his ears. Then he held out his hand to Timber. “Come.”

The next second the dogs were sniffing each other, tails wagging.

“Timber knows he’s a friend now,” Ross said. “He’ll protect your dog with his life if necessary.”

Her eyes widened.

“I meant that to be comforting,” he said with a wry turn of his lips.

“Ben is … shy,” she said.

“Perhaps he has reason.”

Nothing could have endeared him more to her. No snide comments about being a rug. Or timid. No comparisons with Timber. Just … acceptance.

“He does. I think he was badly mistreated until I got him. But he’s very smart. And gentle.”

His gaze rested on the dog for a moment, then returned to her face. “Does this mean you plan to stay awhile?” he asked.

“There’s still my business. I’ll have to get back to Atlanta soon. I just couldn’t leave him again.”

He nodded, not questioning the wisdom of bringing a dog two thousand miles. Still, his next words were a little stiff. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

She knew exactly what he meant. “I’m not sure about that,” she said lightly. She hoped it didn’t sound like a croak.

His eyes seemed to bore into her. “It’s not every day one becomes an heiress.”

“I’m not sure I am.”

“Aren’t you?” The wry cynicism was back in his voice. His raw disbelief was almost a slap in the face.

She stepped back, anger and hurt filling her. “Think what you want,” she said. She started to turn away, back toward the house.

He blocked her, and she had to look up at him. She could feel the heat of his body. Her own skin was sizzling. But warmer yet was the core of her. Energy radiated between them. Then his fingers touched her cheek. No, caressed. Her legs became boneless. Her belly tensed with a gnawing want. She recalled what he’d said the last time they were together. Remember what happens if you play with fire.

And he was fire.

Irresistible fire.

His fingers dropped, and he stepped back as if burned himself, as if he found himself doing something he hadn’t wanted to do.

Her fingers knotted into fists. She remembered the last time, when he was deliberately trying to chase her away, remembered the cold, objective words. She simply could not equate them now with the man who stood there.

“I only know what you told me,” she said in a late answer to his question. “Alex is to explain everything.”

“I’m sure Alex will do that very well.”

“I’m sure he will,” she said. “How is Sarah?”

He looked surprised. “Fine. Indestructible. She’ll outlive all of us.”

Alex had said that Sarah didn’t want anyone to know she was ill. Had her son not noticed any changes? Or had there been changes?

For the briefest of seconds, she wondered if this wasn’t a ploy of Sarah’s. Then she felt guilty at the thought. But there were so many damn undercurrents, so many discordant notes.

Ross stood there, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there something I should know about Sarah?”

She shook her head. “I’ve just grown to like her enormously.”

His lips smiled slightly. “She can be Machiavellian.”

“I never would have guessed,” she replied.

His smile broadened. “You recognized it?”

“Yes.”

She loved that smile. She’d seen it so rarely.

Jessie knew now she hadn’t returned simply because of Sarah, and certainly not because of an uncertain inheritance. She had come back to see Ross, to see whether his pull was as real and powerful as she’d believed it to be. She also knew with all her heart that he would never have purposely hurt anyone.

“Good,” he said. “Be wary of Alex, too.”

“He likes you. He defended you.”

He stiffened. “Is that why …?”

“No,” she said simply. She didn’t have to ask what he meant.

His gaze seemed to search her face, searching for truth. After a moment, he relaxed slightly. “I’ve known Alex a long time,” he said. “You never know quite where he stands.”

“I’ll remember that,” she said.

A muscle flexed in his cheek. “You’d better go see Sarah. She’s been anxious ever since Alex said you were coming.”

“Will you be here later?”

“I have work to do.”

He didn’t move, though, and neither did she. The energy was still wrapped around them, as if they were standing in the eye of a hurricane. They were talking calmly, and yet every word was forced. She wanted to reach out and touch him. She wanted to ask him why he’d mentioned the rape charge. She wanted to know why he’d wanted her to leave.

The smile had left his lips. “Take care,” he said simply, then turned and walked away to his pickup. Timber followed him, and so did Ben.

“Ben!”

He turned back and sat next to her, looking up forlornly. He didn’t want to give up a new friend. Well, she felt the same way. She wanted to follow Ross, but that air of isolation still hovered around him like some ominous cloud.

Only then did she see Sarah standing on the porch. “Come on, Ben,” she said, and started for the house.

Sarah looked as elegant as she had the first time Jessie had met her. Her color, though, seemed less … robust. Or was it just the suggestion that her health was not good? Surely Ross would have noticed if there had been any changes. Or do you see them less when you are with someone day after day?

Sarah held out her hands, and Jessie took them. They felt strong enough.

“I’m so glad you came back,” she said. “And this must be Ben.”

“He’s a bit shy,” Jessie said as Ben pressed against her left leg. “Alex said you wouldn’t mind, that he was invited, too.”

“Of course, he was invited. We used to have a lot of dogs around here, and now there’s only Timber. I miss having more. I’m sure Ben and I will get along very well.” She glanced at her empty hands. “Luggage? You are staying here?”

“For several days,” Jessie replied. “My bag is in the trunk.”

“I’ll have Ross bring in your luggage,” Sarah said.

“No!” Jessie said in a voice sharper than intended. She didn’t want him anywhere near her at the moment. Her reactions to him were too visceral. “I’ll do it,” she said.

Before Sarah could protest, Jessie was down the porch step, opening the trunk and taking out the suitcase. Setting it down on the rollers, she rejoined Sarah on the porch and followed her inside, wondering whether she was making one of the worst mistakes of her life.

Her room was upstairs, right over Sarah’s room. Jessie hadn’t seen the upstairs before, and she noticed that the wide hall led to five doors. Her room was large, sunny, and bright. Hardwood floors were covered with a bright Native American rug, and the walls with Southwestern paintings. A huge tester bed dominated the room.

“When Marc and Samantha are here, they have the rooms down the hall,” Sarah said. “You have a private bath next door. There’s another guest room across the hall, but we rarely use it.”

She hesitated, then added. “I hope you’ll consider every part of this ranch your home. Use the living room or kitchen whenever you wish.” She reached out and took Jessie’s hand. “Thank you for coming. I know … that we must have overwhelmed you the last time.” She sighed. “We probably shouldn’t have invited you that way, but everyone was so anxious to meet you.”

Jessie was tired of hearing that. She also doubted whether it was true. Some would have been perfectly happy not to meet her. Including April.

But instead she told a partial truth. “I had to get home,” she said. “I hadn’t expected to stay any longer than the weekend.”

“I hope you can stay longer this time.”

“I want to learn more about my father. I hope you can—will—help me now.” She’d said it. Thrown down a challenge.

A fleeting emotion, something like dismay, flickered through Sarah’s eyes, but she didn’t let go of Jessie’s hand. “We’ll have a talk later,” she said. “Alex wants to meet with you in the morning. I’ll be glad to come with you if you like.”

She shook her head. “Ross told me a little about what to expect. He said I would inherit a share of the ranch, and that my vote could control what is done with the Sunset. Is that true?”

Sarah nodded.

“I don’t want that kind of power,” Jessie said. “This family owes me nothing. My father surrendered any right to it when he left the ranch.”

“Not according to the will. My father hoped he would return.”

“He was still alive then?”

“Yes. He was nearly eighty then. I think losing two more sons … killed him. He died ten months after Heath died and Harding disappeared. It broke his heart, what was left after Mother died.”

“Mary Louise?”

“Yes. She was always the strength of the family. She was so determined to keep the family together, she insisted early on the terms of my father’s will.”

“When did she die?”

“Just a few months before my father. She’d been ill, or she might have found a way to prevent …” Sarah stopped abruptly.

“Prevent what?” Jessie asked impatiently. “Don’t you think it’s time for me to know?”

Sarah went over to the window and looked out. “For years,” she said with a sigh, “we lived together. My husband was foreman when we were married, and I moved with him into the house Ross has now. Your father and Lori lived in this house, as did Halden and his wife and children.

“Then Heath came home a year after Lori had married your father. He’d been badly wounded and was in a hospital in England for months.”

Jessie saw Sarah’s hand tighten on the windowsill. After a moment of strained silence, she continued, “When Heath came home, he was angry and bitter. He didn’t want to work on the ranch. He didn’t want to do anything. He drank and raised hell. One time he almost set the barn on fire, and our father told him to straighten up or get out. He got out. No one heard from him for three years, then he returned home, said he wanted to settle down and take his place in the business. My father was happy. The prodigal had returned.”

Sarah sat down. Her mouth was grim.

Jessie waited silently. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest of the story.

Finally, Sarah continued wearily. “Harding was happy, too. He’d felt guilty about marrying Lori, but she’d told him that Heath had broken it off.”

She looked up at Jessie, her eyes begging her to understand. “Heath and Hugh had been your father’s heroes. He worshiped both of them, and when Heath first came home, it was your father who kept making excuses for him. He was so pleased when Heath returned the second time, he was willing to give up his own position on the ranch. But Heath wasn’t home to work. He was home to get money. He wanted Father to sell part of the ranch and give him his share. His share. He didn’t care about the ranch or anyone on it. When Father wouldn’t agree, Heath decided he would take what he felt was due him.

“He was asked to make delivery of a herd and pick up the money. Instead of bringing it back, he secretly invested it in an offshore oil company started by a war buddy; he’d been promised a partnership if he could come up with some financing.

“A week later, your father went to the bank to get the payroll—the hands all wanted cash—and discovered that not only was the money from the herd not deposited but most of the funds left in the account had been withdrawn.”

Sarah leaned against the windowsill. “We knew your father went to the bank. We knew he talked to the manager. That’s the last time anyone saw him. I can only imagine that he tried to find Heath. No one knows what happened then.”

Jessie’s heart was beating loud. She knew that a major part of the story was not yet told. “And Lori?”

“She was gone. Her jewelry, some of her clothes. She left a note, saying she was going with Heath.”

Jessie slowly expelled breath she hadn’t realized was bottled in her throat. She felt tears welling in back of her eyes. Her father. Betrayed by a brother he trusted and a wife he loved. More than life, Sarah had said.

“Go on,” she said as Sarah faltered, her words dying away.

“We found a note from Heath saying he was leaving with Lori,” she said, “just as the sheriff came and told us there had been a fire at our Oak Creek cabin. Two bodies had been found there. They identified Heath by his class ring and Lori by her wedding ring. We never saw Harding again.”