Against the Wind (5 page)

For long moments he just sat there, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that pretty little Sarah Allen had married some bastard who had hurt her so badly she'd wound up in the hospital. A gangster involved in gambling and shady business deals. If he'd had any doubts about the man or men who had tossed the cottage, he didn't anymore.

He needed to talk to Sarah. Unfortunately, he'd seen
her drive out this morning in her beat-up truck. He'd have to wait until she got home.

He told himself not to worry.

But he couldn't seem to make himself stop.

 

“She's a lovely child, Sarah.” Her grandmother, Abigail Benton Thompson, watched fondly as Holly chased a butterfly across the covered porch in front of her small wood-frame house. “You've done a good job raising her.”

“Thanks, Gran.”

“Sometimes I wondered if I'd ever see the two of you again.” She was silver-haired and broad-hipped, robust on the outside, though her heart was frail.

“I know. My calls were far too rare. The truth is, I had problems at home and I was afraid you'd be able to hear it in my voice. I didn't want to worry you.”

“I worried anyway, darlin'. I'm your gran. You should have called. I might have been able to help.”

Sarah managed a wobbly smile. There was nothing her grandmother could have done—nothing anyone could do. “It doesn't matter—not anymore. Andrew is gone. He's out of my life and I'm finally able to do what I want.” Sarah kept other thoughts of him at bay, as she had learned to do, though sometimes they crept in anyway.

She leaned over and hugged the older woman. “I've missed you, Gran. It's going to be wonderful to be living so close again.”

The town of Sheep River sat just the other side of the Wind Canyon County line. It was a good long drive, but manageable. And it was worth the time it took to
get there to be with the only family, aside from a few distant cousins, Sarah had left.

“It's getting late,” she said. “We'd better be getting home. I promise I'll be back next week.”

“You'd better. Else I might have to pull that old Ford of your granddad's off the blocks in the garage and drive myself on over to your place.”

Sarah laughed. Her grandfather had been dead since Sarah was seven years old, but Gran had insisted on keeping his car, the only new vehicle he could ever afford to buy. The tires were rotted off now, but Gran still went out to the barn just to look at it. She said it made her remember the good times.

Gran was still a romantic, even after all these years.

Sarah wasn't. Not anymore.

It was dark by the time she and Holly reached the cottage. Yesterday, she'd had a landline installed and the phone was ringing when she walked through the front door. She lifted the receiver.

“Sarah Allen?”

Her stomach knotted. Almost no one knew her brand-new number. “Yes…?”

“This is Deputy Carson of the Sheep River Sheriff's Department. I'm sorry to have to tell you, but your grandmother's had a heart attack. She's been taken to community hospital.”

“Oh, my God!” Her knees turned to water and she sank down in the chair next to the phone. “I—I was just there. She seemed fine when I left.”

“I'm afraid there was an incident. Two men broke into her house. They threatened her, told her they wanted whatever it was you gave her to keep for you.”

“But I didn't give her anything! All I brought was a bouquet of flowers.”
She always loved flowers.

“I guess she told them that, but they didn't believe her. They tore up her house pretty bad, looking for whatever it was they were after. I gather your grandmother tried to stop them, but her heart began acting up. She called 911. She gave the medics your phone number when they got there.”

Sarah swallowed, her lips trembling. “Is she…is she all right? Is she going be okay?”

“I'm afraid I can't tell you. At the moment, she's in intensive care.”

She beat down her fear and swallowed past the knot in her throat. “I'm on my way. I'll be there as fast as I can.” Sarah hung up the phone, her hands shaking so badly she could barely get the receiver back into its cradle.

She whispered a silent prayer.
Please, God, don't let her die. We only just found each other again.

When she turned, Holly stood there, holding on to Jackson's hand.

“I could tell it was something bad, so I went to get help,” Holly said.

Sarah glanced up at Jackson, saw that his jaw was hard, his face lined with worry. She swallowed, tried to pull herself together when what she wanted to do was walk into his arms and just let him hold her.

She fixed her attention on Holly. “Grandma's had a heart attack, honey. Mama has to go to the hospital to make sure she's all right.”

Holly started crying. “I don't want her to die like Daddy did. Please, Mama, I don't want Gran to die.”

Sarah lifted the little girl into her arms. “She isn't
going to die. But she needs us right now. Can you be brave for her?”

Holly nodded, sniffed back tears.

Jackson's gaze locked with hers. “I'll drive you. I'll get my truck and be right back.”

“You don't have to—” But he was already gone and she didn't think he would let her go without him even if she wanted to.

He had only been gone a moment when Livvy knocked on the door. “Your little one says you got a problem. Anything I can do to help?”

Sarah released a shaky breath. “My grandmother's had a heart attack. Jackson is driving us to the hospital over in Sheep River.”

“If that's the case, you're liable to be there a while, all night maybe. Why don't you leave Holly with me?”

Sarah bit her lip. She hated the idea of her daughter sleeping in a corridor all night. She trusted Livvy. She remembered how good she had been to the kids who came into the ice-cream shop. The salt of the earth was Livvy.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Don't be silly. There's a spare room off the kitchen. I stay there whenever it storms. I'll stay tonight and Holly can sleep in the other twin bed.”

Relief swept through her, so strong it made her dizzy. She knelt in front of her daughter. “I want you to stay here with Livvy. Will you do that for me?”

“We'll bake some of those chocolate-chip cookies you like,” Livvy promised. “What do you say?”

“What about Gran?”

“Gran's going to be all right,” Sarah said, praying it
was true. The heart attack was all her fault. Her past had followed her, just as she had feared. If she caused her grandmother's death, she would never be able to live with herself.

She squeezed Holly's hand. “I'll call you as soon as I know for sure she's okay. Be a good girl and do what Livvy says.”

“I could sure use the company,” Livvy added. “You and me can worry together.”

Sarah's heart squeezed. Somehow in returning to Wind Canyon, she had begun to make friends. She couldn't believe how good it felt.

Holly said nothing, just walked over and caught Livvy's thick-fingered hand.

“Thank you, Livvy,” Sarah said. “You don't know how much I appreciate this.”

“You just go on and take care of your family.”

Sarah nodded, heard Jackson's big Ford pull up in front of the house.

“Holly's staying with Livvy,” she told him as she walked to the truck.

Settling a hand at her waist, he walked her around and helped her climb into the passenger seat. In minutes they were rolling down the highway, headed back to Sheep River.

Neither of them talked until they passed through Wind Canyon and started farther east along the road.

Jackson tossed her a glance. “We need to talk, Sarah.”

At his tone of voice, anxiety trembled through her. She wasn't sure if she was more worried about her grandmother—or what Jackson had to tell her.

“I
t's a ways to Sheep River,” Jackson said. “You're gonna sit there and worry until we get there. You might as well tell me what I need to know.”

He could read the uncertainty in her face. Sarah sliced him a glance and nibbled her lip. “What exactly are you asking me?”

“You just got back from visiting her, right?”

“Yes.”

“I want to know if what brought on your grandmother's heart attack has anything to do with what happened at the cottage?”

She kept her eyes straight ahead, staring at the yellow line in the middle of the darkened highway. “I went to see her today. After I left, two men broke into her house. They thought I had brought whatever it is they're looking for to my grandmother for safekeeping. She told them I hadn't brought anything, but they didn't believe
her. They tore up her house, just the way they did the cottage.”

Her lips trembled. “She tried to stop them. She has a heart condition. If something happens to her, it's my fault. Everything that's happened is my fault.”

She started crying and pressed her fingers against her lips to hold back a sob. Jackson pulled the truck to the side of the road. Leaning over, he caught her face between his hands.

“This isn't your fault. You married some bastard who gave you nothing but trouble. That trouble followed you here. This is where it's going to end.”

He let go of her and she straightened, seemed a little steadier. “Y-you know about Andrew?”

“Some of it.” Jackson fought an urge to pull her into his arms, tell her everything would be okay. Instead, he put the pickup in gear and pulled back onto the road.

“When Kozak called,” he continued, “I figured your past was somehow connected to the destruction in the cottage. My brother's in the security business. I called him, asked him to do some digging. He called me back this afternoon.”

Sarah pulled a tissue out of her big leather purse and blew her nose. “How…how much did he tell you?”

“Enough to know that Andrew Hollister was a no-good SOB who treated you badly. I know he inherited a fortune from his father and spent it like there was no tomorrow—which for him, apparently, there wasn't.”

“Then I guess…I guess you know he was murdered.”

“Sounds to me like he got exactly what he deserved. Are you the one who found him?”

Sarah's hand went to her chest. He could tell she didn't want to remember.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “We…we were still living in the house on Sunset, but Andrew had put it up for sale. He'd bought a condo in Santa Monica and I had already moved in. I went back to the Sunset house to pick up some more of my things, but Andrew was there so I didn't stay long. After I left, I picked Holly up from her ballet class and drove on to the condo. The cleaning lady found him in the morning.”

“You weren't worried when he didn't show up that night?”

“After the first few years we were married, Andrew rarely spent time at home. I didn't expect to see him that night.”

“So the two of you were estranged?”

“If by
estranged
you mean we barely spoke to each other, had separate bedrooms and hadn't slept together in years—yes, we were estranged.”

“Must have been a rough ten years.”

Sarah gazed out the window as if she looked into the past. “He wasn't always that way. In the beginning, he treated me very well. He had a lot of money and he showered me with presents. He was handsome. To a twenty-two-year-old girl, he seemed like Prince Charming. I actually thought I was in love with him.”

“Coming from a small town like Wind Canyon, I can understand how you might be impressed.”

She sighed, raked a hand through her hair. “He started having money problems and as those problems grew, he turned violent. The slightest thing could set him off. I wanted to leave him but I was afraid. I'm only grateful
he never hurt Holly. But I always worried that sooner or later he would.”

Jackson made no reply. Every time he thought of what Sarah had suffered, he wanted to kill Andrew Hollister himself.

They finally reached the hospital, a three-story brick building big enough to service the rural community surrounding Sheep River. Jackson dropped Sarah off in front then drove into the lot to park the truck.

He found her outside the intensive care unit, talking to one of the doctors, a woman in her forties with salt-and-pepper hair.

“Do you think she's going to be okay, Dr. Ellis?” he heard Sarah ask.

“No heart attack is good, but we don't think she suffered any major damage. We'll be moving her into a private room in the morning.”

Sarah's shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank God.”

“You won't be able to see her tonight. Why don't you get some rest and come back in the morning?”

“I don't want to leave her.”

Jackson introduced himself to Dr. Ellis. “I'll take care of Sarah,” he added. “See she doesn't overdo. For now we'd like to stay.”

“Suit yourself. I'll let you know if there's any change.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ellis,” Sarah said. The doctor walked away and Sarah looked up at Jackson. “You don't have to stay.”

“Neither do you, but we will.”

Her eyes misted, a soft clear blue, like the sky on a cloudless day. “Thank you.” He felt sucker punched by
the look in those eyes, the need and the trust. She was getting to him again.

Jackson told himself it would be different this time, but he was afraid it wouldn't.

 

Sarah called Holly at the ranch house and told her Gran was going to be all right. She urged Jackson to go home and said she would call him in the morning. Jackson solidly refused. He wasn't the kind of man to abandon a friend in her time of need.

Or at least that was the way he seemed.

But in the beginning, Andrew had seemed a different man than he actually was. Sarah wrapped her arms around herself against the chill in the empty corridor. Just the smells and the sounds dredged memories of her time in the emergency room, once with a broken arm, twice with broken ribs and lacerations, not to mention the concussion.

After a while, Andrew got better at hurting her without leaving traces. And over the years, she learned to stay out of the path of his anger.

It was his threats that kept her from leaving.

He had said he would kill her.

Sarah was certain he would.

She and Jackson sat in the hallway all night. In the morning, a tall blond nurse walked over to where they sat on a padded vinyl bench that didn't feel the least bit padded.

“We're moving Mrs. Thompson into a private room on the second floor. As soon as she's settled, you can go up and see her. Just don't stay too long.”

“Thank you.” Sarah waited with Jackson for another
half hour before the nurse was ready for them to go upstairs.

“She's in Room 204. Like I said, don't stay long.”

Sarah stretched to loosen her stiff, aching muscles. Sometime during the night, she had fallen asleep against Jackson's shoulder. She wondered if he'd gotten any sleep at all.

She flicked him a glance as they made their way along the second-floor corridor to her grandmother's room. His dark hair was mussed and a shadow of beard lined his jaw. He only looked more attractive.

“I'll wait for you out here,” he said when they reached the room.

Sarah nodded. The door was open and Gran was awake when Sarah walked in. Her gray hair stood out all over her head and she looked tired, but some of the color had returned to her face. They talked for several minutes, Gran reassuring her, as the doctor had that morning, that she was going to be all right.

“I brought it on myself,” the old woman said. “I knew those men were dangerous. I should have stayed out of their way, but they just made me so darned mad.”

Under different conditions, Sarah might have smiled. “This wasn't your fault, Gran.”

Watery blue eyes fixed on Sarah's face. “This has something to do with your husband, doesn't it?”

Gran had always been perceptive.

“I don't have a husband anymore, but yes, it has something to do with Andrew. Unfortunately, I don't know exactly what.” Sarah squeezed her grandmother's hand. “Can you tell me what the men who broke in looked like?”

A sound of disgust came from Gran's throat. “One
was skinny and blond. He had a tattoo on his hand that said Mother. The other was Mexican…what do they call it now…Hispanic?”

“That's right, Gran.”

“He was short, lots of muscles, wearing one of those tight black T-shirts with a skull on the front. Neither one of them seemed to care—” she dragged in a shaky breath “—that I'd seen their faces.”

“Probably because they don't have a record.” Jackson walked up beside the bed and Sarah introduced him as the friend who had brought her to the hospital. “They probably weren't concerned because they have no prints on file, no criminal record, that kind of thing.”

“He brought you here?” The old woman's shrewd gaze surveyed the man at her bedside head to foot.

“Jackson owns the Raintree Ranch, Gran, where Holly and I are living.”

She nodded with obvious approval. “A Western man. 'Bout time, girl.”

Sarah flushed. She didn't dare look at Jackson. “Those men didn't find anything in your house. I don't think they'll bother you again. And while you're in here, I'm going to make sure your house is put back in order.”

Gran patted her hand. “You're a good girl, Sarah. You didn't deserve a husband like that.” The old woman's eyes began to droop and Sarah gently eased her hand away, letting her grandmother drift back to sleep.

She leaned over and kissed the old woman's forehead. “I'll be back tomorrow,” she whispered and caught a last faint smile on her grandmother's wrinkled face.

Jackson walked her out into the hall. She shouldn't be thinking how sexy he looked in his low-slung jeans and
scuffed boots, shouldn't be feeling this sweep of desire as he walked beside her—not with her grandmother lying in a hospital bed—but it was happening just the same.

How long had it been since a man had appealed to her the way this one did? In truth, not even Andrew in the days when she so foolishly thought she was in love with him.

“She sounded good,” Sarah said, determined to distract herself. “I think she's going to be fine. I told her I'd come back tomorrow.”

“So I guess that means we can go home.”

She nodded. “I imagine we're both ready for a few hours in bed.” Her cheeks flushed at her poor choice of words.

She flicked a glance at Jackson, hoping he hadn't noticed, and sucked in a breath at the flash of heat that burned in those dark brown eyes. For the first time she realized she wasn't the only one feeling the attraction.

After her nightmare marriage to Andrew, she wasn't ready for a serious relationship. She wasn't sure she ever would be. But she hadn't had sex in years. Maybe it was time she gave in to the growing need she felt for the man beside her.

His hand settled at her waist, guiding her out of the hospital, and that slight touch made her stomach contract. She could only imagine what it would feel like to kiss him, touch him, have him touch her.

She was a grown woman. For the first time in years, she was free to live her life as she pleased. And it was becoming increasingly clear, it would please her a very great deal to make love with Jackson Raines.

 

Jackson cast a glance at Sarah, who rode in the passenger seat as they drove out of the hospital parking lot. “There's something I need to do before we go home.”

“What's that?”

“Take a look at your grandmother's house. We need to see if there's something there that might give us a clue who's behind this.”

“I know where the spare key is—if the door's even locked. Gran figured living in a place like Sheep River, she didn't have to worry about locking her doors.”

“Used to be that way. Unfortunately, times have changed.” As he drove toward the old woman's house at the edge of town, Jackson glanced over at Sarah. He tried to concentrate on his driving and not think of the desire he felt for her that was growing all out of proportion. During the night just listening to her breathing as she slept against his shoulder made him hard. Her soft breasts had nestled against his arm, and desire clawed into his belly. He'd been hard off and on all night.

Damn.

He couldn't remember when a woman had gotten to him the way Sarah Allen did.

He amended that. As his brother had reminded him, the same woman had tied him in knots through most of his senior year. Though she had never known how strongly he wanted her, she had never been far from his thoughts.

She wasn't now.

Christ.

Boxing had taught him self-control and he prided himself on being a master. Unfortunately, when Sarah was around, that control grew thin and strained. He
flicked her another quick glance. He wanted to kiss her more than anything he could think of. He wanted to feel those soft breasts in his hands. He just flat out wanted her—to a degree that had rarely occurred in his orderly world.

Jackson didn't like it.

Not one damned bit.

They pulled up in front of Abigail Thompson's little wood-frame house and he turned off the engine. He rounded the truck and helped Sarah down, tried to ignore the brush of fine strands of chestnut hair that floated across his cheek.

His groin throbbed. When he looked at her again, she hadn't moved, just stood there staring up at him as if she felt the heat pulsing between them. He couldn't stop himself. He bent his head and kissed her.

Soft, full lips. Cinnamon from the breakfast roll he'd bought her in the hospital cafeteria that morning. She softened against him and his body went achingly hard. He started to pull away, end the kiss while a thread of sanity remained, but her sweet mouth opened in invitation and his tongue slid inside.