The problem with even a short, one-day vacation, Carey decided on Monday morning, was having to go back to work. She stretched and threw off the covers. She’d slept okay, but it had been different without Wayne’s long, sinewy length to keep her warm.
He’d stayed at the ranch yesterday while she came home to have Sunday with Sophie. He hadn’t appeared last night, although she’d stayed up until eleven waiting for him.
He would be busy with the cattle until things were resolved at the ranch. And when they were?
She didn’t have an answer.
The weekend had left her confused and wary. Not that she was confused about her feelings. Fact was fact. She’d fallen in love with Wayne Kincaid. She just didn’t know what to do about it.
She’d relegated him to the role of drifter, a renegade without commitment to anyone, but knowing his true identity made a difference. Some part of her couldn’t believe he’d walk away from his heritage again. Even if he didn’t want to claim it, surely he wouldn’t just leave.
That’s where the confusion came in. She had no idea what he would do. And so she was wary. She had to guard her heart and that of her daughter, who asked about Wayne first thing when she got up that morning.
Carey and Sophie had breakfast together, then left. She dropped the girl at kindergarten, then went to the hospital. Jessica was waiting for her in Jenny’s room.
Jenny looked tearful. The lab technician had just been in for a blood sample.
“How long will she have to be tested?” Jessica asked. “It seems ungrateful to ask, but she’s so tired of needles.”
“I know.” Carey explained that they had to keep an eye on the blood count so they would know Jenny’s new marrow was performing as it should. “She’ll come in once a month for a while after she goes home, then once every three months, then once a year for a checkup as usual.”
Jessica smiled in relief. “Jenny wants Sophie to come over and play with her when she goes home. Do you think it would be okay? I was thinking you might come for dinner Saturday night if you’re not too busy.”
“That sounds fine. As long as Jenny doesn’t get overly tired, her activities should return to normal.”
They talked about the weather—more snow on the way—and Jenny’s care for the next few months. Carey saw the rest of her patients, then went to the office.
Moriah Hunter, who managed the office for her husband and Carey, stuck her head around the connecting door when Carey arrived. “My father said to tell you the outsiders aren’t as pure as their name. Does that make any sense?”
Carey nodded. “He warned me about outsiders causing the problems at the Kincaid ranch. Lester Buell has made an offer for the ranch. Wayne and Sterling are sure he’s acting for someone, but he won’t say who. I’ll tell Wayne what your father said. It might mean something more to him.”
“It would be odd not to have the Kincaid ranch. The place has been a landmark in the county for so long.”
“Sometimes a change is best,” Carey said, echoing something Wayne, in his alter ego of J. D. Cade, had once said to her.
However, those had been words spoken by a man who had denied his past for twenty-five years. He would have to come to grips with it before he could find the peace he needed to settle in one place and build a life.
“Are they going to sell?”
Carey shrugged and tossed her purse and cardigan on the credenza in her office. “I suppose they will have to. But you know men. They get very stubborn when they feel they’re being coerced into anything.”
Moriah laughed. “Don’t I ever.”
“Are you gals bad-mouthing us guys again?” a male voice inquired. Kane appeared behind his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and proceeded to ravish her neck until she begged for mercy. A becoming flush highlighted her face when he finally lifted his head.
Carey smiled at their play, while ignoring a stab to her heart. She knew their story. They’d fallen in love as teenagers. It wasn’t until Moriah had come back to find her father that Kane had discovered he was also a father. Moriah’s teenage daughter had been his child. He and Moriah had fallen in love all over again. This time it had ended all right for them. They’d put the past behind and married.
“Time to get to work,” Moriah said in a stern tone to her teasing husband. Her eyes were laughing, though.
Carey sighed after they left. She donned a colorful smock printed with fairy tale characters and went to greet her first patient.
She didn’t see Wayne that day, or the next four. Neither did he call. Although she’d thought she was beyond false pride, she couldn’t bring herself to call him.
The promised storm came through on Thursday night. On Friday, they awoke to a wonder world of white.
“The trees look like cupcakes,” Sophie declared, her nose and Highway’s pressed to the window. “All frosted with snow. Let’s make cupcakes tonight, okay, Mom? When is Wayne coming over? Let’s invite him to supper.”
“He’s very busy at the ranch. This snow will be hard on the cattle. The cowboys will have to feed them somehow.”
“Oh.” Sophie skipped to the table when Carey had their oatmeal and toast ready. Highway went to his dish and wolfed down the dog food she set out for him. His tail wagged when Sophie scolded him for eating so fast.
Carey had to wait until the snowplow came through and cleared her drive before she and Sophie could get on the road. When she returned home after dark that night, the snow was falling again. She and Sophie made cupcakes and decorated them with sprinkles. They played with the pup, had cupcakes with milk during a video, then read two books when Sophie was tucked into bed.
Carey, dressed in her warm flannel gown, sat in front of the fire and looked through the latest medical journal. The clock on the mantel chimed ten. She sighed as the loneliness washed over her and hugged her knees to her chest. She had to get a grip.
Her life had been fine before that drifter J. D. Cade had barged into it. He might be Wayne Kincaid in reality, but the golden boy who had once shown her a kindness bore no resemblance to the man who had come back from war. That man had been tempered by fire and come out as hard as stainless steel. It was all so sad.
Before she had time to get more than a little maudlin, she heard an engine on the drive. Going to the kitchen window, she peered into the night.
Snow came out of a vortex centered in the distant streetlight and hit the window with a faint crackling sound. Someone sat in a truck, looking her way, his headlights bright on the garage door.
She realized who it was. She gasped and her pulse increased. She opened the door to the garage and hit a button. The garage door rolled up. The pickup eased inside. The engine was turned off. Wayne swung out, slammed the door and strode toward her.
“Get inside. It’s freezing out here.”
He closed the door behind him, saw her bare feet, muttered something she didn’t catch and swung her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He grinned. “Not all I hope to do. Where did you lose your shoes?”
“At the sofa. I was reading—”
She got no further. He set her down on the cushions and proceeded to kiss her breathless. She shivered as the cold from his clothing surrounded her. He opened his jacket and pulled her inside, wrapping her in the warmth of sheepskin and his body. She sighed and savored it all.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he muttered when they finally came up for air.
“You shouldn’t be out. The weather is terrible.” She touched him as she spoke, stroking his hair, his ears, his cheeks, which were warming slowly. “You could have had a wreck, gotten frostbite or—”
“Shh. None of those things happened. I’m here.”
“Take your coat off. And your boots. I’ll make you a warm drink.”
“Okay if I take a hot shower?”
“Yes. Good idea.” She fussed over him, helping him with his jacket, his boots and finally his clothing. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
Naked now, and in her bedroom, he grabbed her to him, stroking her through her gown, driving her mad with needs denied for the long, lonely week. He kissed her again, then set her away and headed for the shower.
She went to the kitchen and put out cupcakes on a plate, then made a thick sandwich of ham on rye and a pot of decaffeinated coffee. She considered, then set out two snifters and the brandy she kept for her father’s visits. She took everything to the coffee table in the living room. There she sat and waited for him to come to her, while she weighed the past against the future.
She’d trusted her heart once before, and it had been wrong. Tomorrow he could be gone without a trace, just like the fog that crept down from the mountain into the valley at night, then disappeared come morning.
He returned wearing the pajamas she’d provided when he was recuperating from the surgery. Like Highway, he wolfed down the food as if he hadn’t eaten all day. She poured them each a jot of brandy. He raised his glass in a silent toast.
She did the same.
They watched each other as they sipped the liquor. When she set the glass aside, he reached for her again.
“You feel good,” he said, and kissed her.
“So do you. Did you get all the cattle moved before the storm?” she asked a full minute later.
His mouth kicked up at the corners. “Yes.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers. “Today, all I could think about was you and being here.”
“Oh.”
She couldn’t think of a word to add to that statement. Something warm and sweet and contented spread through her. It would be okay to tell him her dreams, then she would listen to his. Maybe they would be the same. Tomorrow, she would tell him.
But he was gone when she awoke.
Wayne pulled a blue crew-neck sweater on, adjusted the collar of his shirt, then added a wool sport jacket. The puppy tugged at his pant leg.
He scooped up the little rascal and put her in the box for the third time. “Stay,” he ordered.
The pup tilted her head to one side as if considering, then hopped out again. Wayne caught her before she’d gone two feet. He closed the flaps on the box. She yapped in protest and kept it up until he let her out again.
“Just like a female,” he groused at her.
She sat down, tilted her head to an alert angle and gave him a puppy-dog grin.
He ran a brush through his hair, which he’d had cut that afternoon. He’d been invited to the McCallums’ for dinner. They were going to go over the ranch plans. He’d mentioned them briefly to Sterling the other day.
The deputy had seemed interested in his ideas for a possible ski resort and vacation spot along with a working ranch to attract visitors. There was enough land to run both operations. They could start small and expand slowly, maybe put in cross-country ski trails first.
Carey had mentioned several possibilities. She was a smart woman with a good head for business. That’s one of the things he liked about her. She was capable and practical.
Thinking of her made him think of last night. He’d gone to her against his better judgment. He could feel himself being drawn in, the proverbial moth to candle, by her warmth and caring ways. And Sophie, too. She was a neat kid.
He frowned as feelings pushed against his insides, making him feel tight and uneasy.
All the plans they’d discussed for the combined Kincaid-Baxter spreads sounded pretty far-ranging. It would take a commitment of time and energy. She’d seemed to think he would be around to make all this happen. Had she forgotten he planned to leave when the problems were cleared up?
Hmm, Sterling had said Clint Calloway would be at dinner, too. It sounded as if the lawmen planned a big powwow. Maybe they had some news.
He picked up the rambunctious puppy, then headed out to the truck and drove to town. When he arrived at the deputy’s home, he paused when he saw Carey’s ute already there. He hadn’t known she would be coming.
The internal pressure built a little more. For a moment, he thought of getting in the pickup and taking off, of hitting the road until he wound up as far from Whitehorn as he had when he’d been eighteen and had left. He could feel the tendrils of the Kincaid name reaching out to engulf him like morning glory winding around a post.
That’s what happened if a man stayed in one place too long.
He tucked the pup in his inside jacket pocket and hurried up the sidewalk, his steps careful because the ground was covered in crusty snow that had melted, then frozen on top. He cursed once when he slipped and caught himself.
Sterling opened the door. “Come in. Sorry I didn’t get the walk cleaned yesterday.”
“That’s okay. You lawmen types have more important things to do.”
The deputy chief investigator grinned at his friendly gibe and held the door wide.
Wayne kept his arms folded over the front of his jacket, one hand inside to soothe the excitable pup. He’d cleared the gift with Jessica beforehand, having learned his lesson in dealing with mothers from Carey.
In the living room, he found Carey talking to Clint Calloway and his wife. He hesitated before stepping forward to shake hands with his half brother.
“This is my wife, Dakota,” Clint said.
Wayne had once known her family. She’d been Dakota Winston of the Montana Winstons, an old family with mining, timber and cattle connections just like the Kincaids, and just as rich. Like him, she’d opted out of that life by becoming a cop. Interesting what people did to find a life of their own.
She had blue eyes that were a startling contrast to her black hair. For a cynical moment, he wondered if she was another of Jeremiah’s bastard kids. She wasn’t, but the more he learned of his father, the harder it was not to speculate about everyone he met.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” he said to Carey. “Nice to see you.”
Surprise darted through her eyes at his formality, but she smiled and asked him how he was feeling.
They each acted as if he hadn’t spent the previous night in her bed. He’d left before first light to return to the ranch and the never-ending work there, but he’d been driven from her bed by more than a sense of duty.
“Fine. My hip hasn’t bothered me at all. Tell Kane he did a good job.” The squirming in his pocket reminded him he’d better not tarry over polite conversation. He glanced at Sterling. “I have a little something for Jennifer.”
“She’s in her room. Jessica is there with her. This way.” He guided Wayne down the hall.
In the child’s room, he found Sophie putting on a show with paper dolls for Jenny. The three-year-old, still thin, but not as pale, was laughing. The sound grabbed his heart and wouldn’t let go.
“Hi, Wayne,” Sophie cried, spotting him behind Sterling. “We’re having a doll party. Want to come?”
His insides gave one of those painful twangs it was prone to lately at her cheerful welcome. “I have a little something for Jenny I thought she might like. You can give her some helpful hints on taking care of it.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. She erupted into giggles when he removed the puppy from his pocket. He set the little female on the bed beside Jenny. “It’s a girl.”
“She’s mine?” Jenny looked at her mother. “Really mine? I can keep her?”
Jessica nodded. “You need to think of a name—oh.”
At that moment, the pup squatted on the coverlet.
Wayne scooped it up and put it on the floor. “Sorry. I suggest she be kept in a box until she learns her manners.”
Both girls stared at Jessica to see what she would say. The mother laughed and, grabbing a handful of tissues, swabbed up the drop on the cover and the rest on the floor.
“I think we can honestly say her new home has been duly christened.” She looked at her husband. “Is there a box in the garage?”
After taking care of the minor emergency, the adults returned to the living room, leaving the girls to think of a name for the new pet.
“I hope it isn’t a variety of Freeway,” Carey mentioned drolly. She explained about Highway.
They came up with Byway, Pathway and Speedway as possibilities and were still laughing when they went in to dinner. Clint and Dakota sat on one side of the table, Wayne and Carey on the other.
She looked especially beautiful tonight. She wore a long plaid skirt of blue and brown and green with a thin black stripe. Her low-heeled boots were black. A sweater, green and clingy, showed off her figure—a fact that sent a warm hum through him. She’d even put on blush and a soft red lipstick. He smiled at that.
During the meal, he realized the others were already treating them as a couple. It added to his uneasiness. He was out of place in the family scene.
The chilly wind of forewarning slid down his neck. He’d need to leave soon. When spring came.
After they finished the meal, Jessica and Carey went to check on the girls, while Dakota volunteered to serve coffee. The three men settled in the living room.
Sterling cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking.”
Wayne tensed.
“Jessica and I want you two to share the ranch with Jennifer.”
“Hey, no way. I don’t want any part of the Kincaid holdings,” Clint protested.
“Same here. I told you that,” Wayne added. “The lawyer is drawing up a quit-claim now.”
The deputy held up a hand as if stopping traffic. “Hear me out, please. If anything happened to me and Jessica, what would become of Jenny?”
The two men looked at each other, but neither had an answer.
“Exactly,” Sterling said. “There’d be long-lost relatives coming out of the woodwork, wanting a piece of her inheritance. You two are the closest relatives she has. I know you both care about her. I want the Kincaid holdings split three ways among you.”
“We’re both grown men. We’ve made our lives,” Wayne reminded the lawman. “Jenny has a future to look to.”
“Maybe. If we can save the ranch. Luckily, it’s paid for. The land and buildings are worth ten million. The cattle and machinery another million, maybe more. That’s a lot for a kid to handle. I don’t like the idea of Jenny having that hanging over her head.”
Dakota brought in a tray with filled cups and carefully placed it on the coffee table. She glanced up sharply at this last announcement.
Clint shook his head. “Jeremiah Kincaid had nothing to do with me when he was alive. I don’t want anything of his now that he’s gone.”
“I feel the same,” Wayne said.
“That’s not the point.” Sterling gave each man a piercing stare, then settled on Wayne. “You’re the only legitimate heir. Even when a case has been settled and after-discovered heirs discredited, it can be reopened on new evidence. If you died, someone could come forward as your heir and tie Jenny up in court for years…until the ranch is more than just strapped for cash. If it became flat broke, we’d have to sell out.”
Wayne snorted. “You don’t have to worry on my account. I don’t have any heirs, legitimate or otherwise.”
“But you might have a family someday,” Sterling persisted. “They could grow to resent the fact that you gave up their heritage—”
“I don’t intend to have any heirs, not now and not in the future.” The words came out harsh, filled with the loathing he’d felt toward his father for his callous ways.
All the resentment of his youth boiled to the surface—the pressure to act as the Kincaid golden boy, the push on him to always be the best, the need to live up to someone else’s standards and expectations.
He didn’t want the baggage that came with being a Kincaid. He’d opted out of the life twenty-five years ago. There was no going back.
Jessica and Carey entered the room. From the way they avoided his eyes, he guessed they’d heard his declaration. Jessica took a seat next to her husband. Carey, instead of sitting beside him on the love seat, chose to perch on a chair across the room from him.
He cursed mentally, but didn’t say anything to change or soften his choice of words.
Sterling took his wife’s hand. “Jessica and I want to ask you two to be the legal guardians of Jenny in case something does happen to us. We’d like you to be co-owners with Jenny and trustees of the ranch along with us. We think that’s best for all concerned.” He glanced from one man to the other.
Clint rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I don’t want anything from the Kincaid holdings, but I guess I could be a trustee, if you really think it’s necessary.” He looked at Dakota, who nodded and smiled approval at him.
Sterling answered. “I do.”
Five pairs of eyes turned to Wayne.
He drew a deep breath. “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise.”
“All right. At any rate, I’m having accounts set up for both of you and Jenny. Any profits the ranch makes will be equally divided among the three of you. Whether you ever claim it or not.” His tone was final.
Jessica jumped to her feet. “We’ll talk more another time. Now, let’s have dessert. Carey brought over her famous sour cream pound cake with vanilla sauce.”
The talk returned to the weather, which showed no signs of a warming trend, and cattle prices, which were pretty good at the present. Sterling brought up the ranch again, his thoughts directed at Carey. They discussed the opening of her place and the Kincaid spread as a resort.
“We’d need someone to manage the whole operation, someone who had the big picture,” Sterling said, looking at Wayne.
Wayne kept his thoughts to himself.
“Oh, I just remembered,” Carey spoke up. “Moriah said her father wanted us to know that the outsiders aren’t as pure as their name. Does that ring any bells—”
“Good God,” Wayne muttered.
A scene from his past rushed into his mind—his father angry, Homer Gilmore watching from the bunkhouse porch where he’d stopped to cadge a dinner off the cook, himself seated beside the old codger. “PureGrow. That’s who wanted the ranch years ago.”
Clint leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. “PureGrow? That’s the big agri-chemical company that was indicted for unapproved experiments on animals. If they’re looking for land in a remote spot, you can bet it isn’t for altruistic purposes.”
“The charges were dropped,” Sterling reminded him.
Clint’s jaw set stubbornly. “They’re bad news.”
“Lester Buell was the link with PureGrow,” Wayne said. “Have you had any further leads on the guy he called from his cell phone?”
Sterling looked at Clint. “Did Austin check out the rest of Widdermann’s phone list yet?”
“He put in a request for his home and office calls. We had to get a judge over in Missoula to okay it. Now that we have an idea what we’re looking for, it should be easier.”
Sterling relaxed. “Good. I want you to check Wendell Hargrove’s phone lines, too.”
“Wendell? He’s the Kincaid estate attorney,” Dakota murmured. “And a trustee along with you.”
“Yeah.” The chief investigator looked grim. “He’s been pressing a little too hard to sell.”
“I’ll check it out,” Dakota promised. She gave her husband a wry glance. “If my senior detective partner would like me to, that is.”
“Okay, rookie,” he drawled, “let’s see if you’ve learned anything about law enforcement. What’s the first thing you’re going to do?”
“Put a secret tap on his line,” she said in a dead-level voice.
Clint threw up his hands. “I taught her everything I know, and she still doesn’t know anything.”
That drew a laugh from the others.
“I’m going to Judge Walker and ask her pretty please to let us check on the attorney’s calls,” Dakota corrected.
“Good,” Sterling said. “Clint, see if you can find any ties to PureGrow by anybody in town. I have some friends in the FBI who might be interested in their activities.”
Wayne liked the way the deputy handled things. He was a thinking man. He glanced at Carey’s closed expression. One thing about men, they didn’t let emotion get in the way of sense. He was pretty sure she had stored up some quarrelsome words to share with him when they were alone….