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Books by Cathleen Galitz
One T ara Summers smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in the fashionable pink power suit she had chosen expressly for the occasion. Aware that she was the focus of attention in the front office of the small jail-house, she couldn’t help fretting if her skirt wasn’t a tad too short. She had picked out this particular outfit hoping it would make her feel both professional and sexy. From the head-to-toe ogling she was receiving from the officers on duty, it appeared she had achieved at least one of the two desired effects. If only Jonas thinks so, she agonized, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. The irony of the situation did not escape her. Five years ago the tables had been turned, and it had been Jonas Goodfellow who had arrived like a chivalrous knight of old to bail her and his kid stepsister out of jail. Only seventeen at the time, Tara had been mortified when she and Ellen had been incarcerated for a drinking violation following their high-school graduation. Still green ar
Two S eething at the flippancy of Jonas’s comment, Tara held her head high as they checked into the hotel. The twelve years separating them were hardly enough to put her thirty-four-year-old boss over the hill. It wasn’t as if he was old enough to be her father or that anyone could mistake her for a teenager. Tara’s feminine pride was assuaged somewhat by the elderly desk clerk’s arched eyebrow at two unmarried people signing in for a single suite. Obviously he didn’t think she was too young for Jonas. “I’ll remind you that we’re a respectable establishment,” the older man said sanctimoniously as he passed them a set of keys. Jonas glared at him but declined to explain the situation. The old duffer would probably have a conniption fit when he realized an accused murderer was staying under his inviolable roof, he thought as he opened the door to the suite. The hotel was the best Red Rock had to offer. Decorated in muted mauve and turquoise Southwestern designs, the suite had an air of f
Three J ust watching Tara Summers at work was enough to make most people tired. Jonas likened it to studying the mighty ant in action. Seemingly there was no task too big for her to tackle. So when his assistant calmly announced that she had plans to catch the real criminal and clear his name, Jonas was tempted to call the local law-enforcement agencies and put them on alert. He placed a hand on her shoulder, foolishly hoping the gesture alone would somehow be enough to stop her. “Listen, Tara, I don’t want you doing anything stupid on my behalf. I’d never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you. As flawed as the system may be, let’s put our trust in it and allow the police to do their job. The last thing I need or want is for you to go risking your pretty little neck for me.” Tara felt a tingle on her shoulder where his hand rested. The touch seared her, burning through layers of clothing. Though the use of the word pretty was flattering, the statement made her feel like a si
Four “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Tara said, lifting her feet off the ground and giving Jonas an enigmatic smile. Around and around she spun, her hair whipping out behind her in a yellow arc as she twirled joyfully beneath the Milky Way. “There are so many stars up there to wish upon,” she said. “Why don’t you let someone who hasn’t forgotten how to dream help you pick out a special one to wish upon tonight?” “Hey, you kids! Don’t you know there’s a curfew in this town?” The sound of authority blasting over the police-car speaker system caused Jonas to jump away from the swings and into his past. He hadn’t felt so foolish since he’d been caught making out in his rebuilt little Mustang way back in his senior year of high school. He had been so engrossed in conversation with Tara that all concept of time had escaped him. Stepping out of the darkness, he advanced upon the police car. A glance at Jonas’s solid physique assured the officer on duty that this was no kid. The deep sure
Five F or the first time since Jonas had hired her, Tara slept in on a workday. Waking in her lover’s arms was such a delicious feeling that she wanted to cling to it for as long as she possibly could. The familiar musky fragrance of their bodies flushed with heat and entangled in the sheets was definitely something she wanted to cherish. She pressed every detail like rose petals in her memory book. Safe, warm and secure, she resisted the very thought of getting out of bed. Jonas’s eyes were gentle on her as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, kissing her still-puffy lips. “Morning,” she mumbled, half-asleep. “If I’m asleep, please don’t pinch me.” A loud knock at the front door was just as effective at bringing her to full consciousness. Don’t answer that! she wanted to cry, hoping that by ignoring the summons they could somehow keep the world from their door indefinitely. But it was already too late. Jonas bounded from the bed, sear
Six E ver efficient, Tara had their temporary office packed up in just a day and a half. Or approximately forever, according to her heart’s calculations, since Jonas hadn’t called to let her know that he had arrived safely in San Francisco and that he was missing her at least half as much as she was him. Certain she would hear from him soon, she was reluctant to leave the hotel suite for fear she would miss his call. A trip to the local express-mail service couldn’t be avoided, however, and the sooner the mail went out, the sooner she could join him in San Francisco. Afterward Tara was sure that providence brought her there at the exact same time that one of Jonas’s relatives was mailing a package. “Why, thank you, Miss Miranda,” the clerk chirped to the striking woman standing just in front of her at the counter. “Glad to hear that Ryan’s home and back on his feet again. Nasty business that.” The wizened little man shook his head to emphasize his dismay that anything so wicked could h
Seven T ara didn’t seem to recall Nancy Drew ever having as much trouble piecing together clues as she was. When her leads all turned cold after a series of fruitless phone calls, she was glad she hadn’t given up her day job to become a private eye on a full-time basis. Sheriff Grayhawk had been pleasant but firm when she had offered to help him on the case. He thanked her for her interest, then politely sent her on her way with the same admonition as Jonas had about needing to leave police business to qualified professionals. Luckily just the thought of being with Jonas again soon was enough to take much of the sting out of Tara’s failed stint as a detective. She hadn’t known it was possible to miss anyone so much. The past few days had been the most miserable of her life. Dozens of times a day, she found herself staring off into space, every cell in her body straining with longing as she recalled the most intimate details of their relationship. The passage of time hadn’t done anythin
Eight “I ’m more than willing to continue where we left off in Red Rock,” Jonas informed her. “I just want to make sure you understand that I’m not asking you to marry me. I’ve tried to make it perfectly clear that marriage is not in my future. Personally I don’t see you agreeing to that kind of arrangement, but right now it’s the only offer on the table.” Tara shook her head as if stunned that he would approach her about such a matter as if it was some common business transaction. Had she not invested her heart in this relationship, she might well have done exactly what it appeared Jonas wanted her to do: stomp off and let him revert back to the emotionally stunted state in which she had found him. Had she not loved him so much, she would have given up on him as a lost cause. As it was, Tara knew that Jonas was merely reacting to his frightening new feelings the only way he knew how—by running away. It was a pattern she recognized well. Whenever she got too close, he typically bolted
Nine T ara held her father’s hand to her cheek and thanked God for giving him a chance to survive the heart attack that had nearly claimed his life. On top of his blood condition, it was a miracle he had survived at all. Disgusted at herself for belaboring the state of her own heart when her daddy’s had physically betrayed him, she vowed never again to let this good man down. Her father had once been such a big hearty man. It hurt to see him so old and frail. Aghast at how he looked hooked up to all manner of tubes and monitors, she tried to hide her tears from him. And vowed to make up for lost time with him. Here, at least, was a man who appreciated what she did for him. A man who would never fall from his pedestal like someone else she knew. A man who wasn’t afraid of wearing his heart out by loving too much. “I quit my job today,” she explained to her siblings without offering any explanation of her actions. “So there’s no reason I can’t take care of Dad while we both get back on o
Ten “G o away!” Tara called out. “What?” her father hollered from the other room. “Nothing, Daddy. Nothing at all. Just some pesky salesman like you thought. I’ll tell him we don’t want anything he’s peddling.” Pressing the doorbell again, Jonas refused to let up until Tara opened the heavy door a crack. Just enough to see raindrops spattering against the enormous bouquet of roses he held out to her. “I said go away!” she hissed. “I don’t want you upsetting my father. As you know, he’s not well.” With that, she slammed the door shut before Jonas could get a single word out. He lay on the doorbell again. “What in hell is going on out there?” Howard Summers called out over the blare of the television in the living room. Hard of hearing, he had the set turned up full-blast. “Do you want me to come out there and shoo that pest away?” “No, Daddy,” Tara called back. “I’ve got everything under control.” It was a bold-faced lie. Her pulse was galloping like a runaway steed, her hands were shak
Eleven “W hy the hell not?” It was her father’s voice demanding a reason, but it was Jonas’s eyes that pierced Tara’s very soul. Behind a cloud of initial shock, the pain she glimpsed in their depths was very real. She hoped the damage to his only recently expressed vulnerability was not irreparable. Still, she had reason enough to do what she did. If her father would leave them alone for a while, she might even work up the courage to explain her actions to Jonas. Not that she had to, Tara reminded herself defensively. “It had better not be because of some fool notion you have about needing to take care of me for the rest of my life. I may not be in the best of health, but I’m not an infant, and I refuse to be treated like one. I still have options, by God. Sacrificing your life for mine might not make a saint out of you, but I guarantee it would make a martyr out of me. Neither one of us wants or needs to live like that.” Struck by the truth of his analysis, Tara nonetheless rushed to
Twelve “I can’t believe you want to ask the same people who thought me capable of murder to our wedding,” Jonas sputtered indignantly. “I suppose I can’t blame you for being afraid of them,” Tara said sympathetically. “I am not afraid of them,” Jonas hotly protested, feeling masculine pride and resentment building inside him. “I simply distrust them.” Tara crooked a silky eyebrow at him in that damnable way she had of making him question himself. No one else held such power over him. Her patience and hopeful perseverance in the face of his pigheadedness made Jonas smile despite himself. “I think you’re setting yourself up for heartache,” he warned her. “The high-and-mighty Fortunes are as likely to show up at our wedding as their promises of an inheritance have ever materialized.” Tara worried that he was right. After all, a long time had passed since that surprise announcement and not another word had been heard on the subject. “I want to invite them nonetheless,” she said with a dete
Thirteen I f Jonas was surprised later in the week by Miranda’s gleeful acceptance of his wedding invitation over the phone, he was totally flabbergasted when she suggested they actually have their wedding at the Double Crown Ranch. Horrified was a better word. Had Tara not been on the extension, he would have turned his scheming aunt down flat. As it was, Tara was so thrilled with the idea that he didn’t dare disappoint her. Recalling that her only stipulation regarding their wedding was that both families come together, Jonas wasn’t about to jeopardize a lifetime of happiness over any qualms he might have about his relatives. And so it was that Jonas found himself on a plane headed to Texas to plan his wedding at the very place where he had been arrested for attempted murder. If that didn’t prove his love to Tara, he didn’t know what could. He wished there was some way to shake himself of the feeling that something of monumental consequence awaited him in Texas. Something that didn’t
Fourteen “I ’ve always wanted to buy a piece of property with a stream on it,” Jonas confided as they drove along the back roads to Red Rock, dreaming of lazy days spent with children of his own, casting flies and hopes over rippled water. Jonas could barely remember a time when he hadn’t been beleaguered by the demands of crushing traffic, the beep of a pager, the ring of a phone or the needs of a company that consumed his heart and soul. Tara was glad to see the Texas hill country work its magic on the hard-boiled urban man who once upon a time would have scoffed at the very thought of leaving the city. As much as she, too, loved the ocean, the culture and the hustle and bustle of San Francisco, thoughts of a gentler less-harried lifestyle had begun to appeal to her far more now that she was going to be a mother. The Fortune roots were sunk deep in this soil, their heritage vested in each breathtaking vista. Even for a stranger to these parts, this land had a strong pull. Close enoug
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