Bodyguard Under the Mistletoe (18 page)

When Fiona welcomed Andrea into her house, she was fully aware that this meeting could change her career.

The sophisticated Manhattanite greeted her and Abby with warm hugs. Gazing around the front room, Andrea said, “I haven't been in this house for years. Over twenty years, in fact. Sterling and I used to play cards with the Grants.”

“Wyatt's parents,” Fiona said. She found it hard to believe that Andrea was part of a prior generation. She didn't look older than forty. And a fabulous forty, at that.

“We used to laugh all night. Drink gallons of wine and ride home singing at the top of our lungs.” Her voice was tinged with nostalgia. “Not many people knew that side of Sterling Carlisle. Everyone saw him as the patriarch, the founder of Carlisle Certified Organic Beef.”

“And now your children are carrying on his legacy. You must be proud of them.”

“Proud? Yes. Also worried.”

How could she not be worried? She'd returned to a ranch in the midst of trauma. Fiona placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

The only coffee Fiona had left was instant. Her food
supplies were running low after feeding all the bodyguards and search teams that had descended upon her house.

“Nothing for me,” Andrea said. “With the way Polly has been feeding me, I'll never fit into my clothes when I get back to New York.”

“She's an amazing cook,” Fiona agreed.

Abby piped up, “Polly gives me cookies.”

There had been a time when Fiona would have been gushing with apologies and embarrassed about the lack of fresh ground coffee and the less than pristine condition of her home. During her marriage, she'd taken her duties as a hostess seriously, knowing that Wyatt would be judged on her performance. If Fiona's hemline had been too short or if she'd served the wrong wine with dinner or if she laughed too loudly, people would talk.

Now she was free to be herself, and she liked the feeling.
A fresh start
. Jesse had mentioned walking together on a new path, discovering new adventures. That was the route she wanted to take.

Abby rushed to the dining room and climbed onto a chair. She pointed to the colorfully painted Santa Claus ceramic centerpiece. “I made this.”

“It's lovely,” Andrea said.

“Mommy says we're going to get a Christmas tree pretty soon and decorate.”

“And what do you want from Santa?”

“A pony,” Abby said quickly.

Fiona lifted her daughter off her perch and settled the child onto her hip. Though Abby was almost too heavy to carried, she couldn't be allowed to run free in the studio—not while there were so many pieces on display, tempting Abby to touch.

Fiona unlocked the studio door, ushered Andrea inside and got out of the way. Her artwork needed to speak for itself. There was nothing Fiona could say to convince an experienced dealer like Andrea to give her a chance.

Abby, on the other hand, was bursting with comments about the fairy houses and animals and big pots.

While Andrea viewed the many objects on display, her eyes were hard and analytical. “You have talent, Fiona. And imagination. I've seldom seen such a wide range of pottery and sculpture.”

Fiona listened for the “but.”
Talented, but…Skillful, but
…

Andrea continued. “You're an emotional artist. I can see your happiness. Your anger. And your fear.”

But
…

“I'd like to show your work. In late spring, I've arranged for a couple of other sculptors.” She mentioned an impressive list of artists. “Your pottery would fit in quite well.”

She gave Abby a squeeze. Their financial situation was about to take a turn for the better. She couldn't wait to tell Jesse. “Thanks so much.”

“We'll work out the details,” Andrea said. “Why don't you and Abby come home with me? I'm sure it'll be easier for all of us to be guarded at the same time. We have plenty of food. And coffee.”

“And horses,” Abby said.

Fiona whipped out her cell phone. “I need to check with Jesse first, but I'm sure it'll be okay.”

She wanted to believe that everything would turn out well. It felt as though the tide had turned, and luck was on her side.

 

A
T THE
C
ARLISLE RANCH
house, Fiona and Abby were well protected. All the ranch hands who weren't actually working the cattle were armed and assigned to guard duty.

After lunch, she and Abby took a walk toward the stable with Carolyn. Fiona said, “It looks like the Old West around here. All these cowboys with rifles.”

“The amazing thing,” Carolyn said, “is that most of these guys are even less enlightened than their 1800s counterparts.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you love this ranch.”

“But my home is in Denver.” She tipped her cowboy hat back on her forehead. “I can't wait to get back to my high-rise condo with the Jacuzzi bathtub and the walk-in closet. I have a pair of designer stilettos in acrylic and silver that I've never worn.”

“Not to mention the extra benefit,” Fiona said. “Burke lives in the city. Is he more enlightened than a cowboy?”

“I have tickets for
The Nutcracker
next week, and he agreed to go with me.”

“To the ballet?” Fiona had a hard time imagining the big, rugged FBI agent sitting still for an evening of Tchaikovsky and tutus.

“He promised. And the ballet is where I'm going to wear those stilettos for the first time.”

Fiona appreciated the irony of discussing ballet and designer shoes on her way to the stable with a woman who was dressed like the archetypal cowgirl in jeans and dusty boots.

They reached the corral where Carolyn's horse, Elvis, greeted them with a toss of his head. She lifted Abby onto the second from the top rail on the fence so she could reach across and pet the horse.

“I love Elvis,” Abby said. “What are stilettos?”

“Shoes with pointy heels. You've seen the ones I have.”

“You don't wear them anymore.”

And she didn't miss them. The realization hit her that she was happy living here, running around in sneakers, climbing the hills and breathing the mountain air. Even if she became a successful potter with a display in Manhattan, she'd choose to live here.

Looking out across the south pasture, she saw two men riding toward them. Jesse was in front, leaning forward in a gallop. The unexpected sight of him took her breath away. On horseback, he looked powerful and incredibly masculine. No matter what Carolyn said, cowboys were sexy.

Carolyn nudged her shoulder. “Is there something going on with you and Jesse?”

“I hope so.”

She should probably be guarded about what she said around Abby, but Fiona had never been able to hide her feelings. She was drawn to Jesse as a friend, a protector and—please, God!—a lover.

Abby waved with both hands. “Jesse! I'm over here.”

He rode up beside the corral fence. “I see you, Abby.”

“Did you catch the bad guys?”

“Not yet.” He leaned down and lifted the little girl off the fence onto the saddle in front of him. “But I caught you.”

Fiona liked the way he swooped in and took charge, walking his horse in a wide arc while Abby held the reins and chatted at a million miles an hour.

Dylan, who had been riding with Jesse, dismounted beside them. He turned toward his sister. “I might have been mistaken about Nicole.”

“You? Wrong?” Carolyn looked up toward the sky and squinted. “What's that I see? A pig flying?”

“We don't have time for jokes,” he said. “Where's Burke?”

“In the house.”

“Take care of my horse.” He tossed the reins toward her and stalked toward the ranch house.

As Carolyn watched him, the grin faded from her face. “He's so much like our father. Stubborn. It'd serve him right if Nicole never came back to him.”

“You don't mean that,” Fiona said.

“Of course I don't.”

But the ongoing stress showed in her eyes. Everyone at the ranch was trying to maintain calm, but an undercurrent of dread tinted every conversation. They couldn't help worrying about Nicole, couldn't help fearing the worst.

Fiona's cell phone rang, and she answered. It was Belinda with a request. She had the chance to take another shift at the café and hoped Fiona could take of Mickey for a few hours. “I wouldn't ask, but I really need the money.”

Fiona checked with Carolyn, who nodded and said, “I think we can make room for one little boy.”

“Here's the deal,” Fiona said into the phone. “Abby and I are staying at the Carlisle Ranch, and Carolyn says it's okay for Mickey to come here.”

“The Carlisle Ranch? Wow.” Belinda paused. “If Nate ever found out that his son visited the Carlisles, he'd explode.”

“Is that a problem?” Fiona asked.

“Not for me.”

She could hear the smile in Belinda's voice. “See you at four.”

Jesse dismounted with Abby tucked under his arm and placed her on the ground. When he stood, his gaze linked
with Fiona's. A burst of excitement surged inside her. She hadn't told him about Andrea yet, about new possibilities.

“You two can talk,” Carolyn said as she took Abby's hand. “We cowgirls need to go into the stable and tend to the horses.”

“Really?” Abby skipped beside her. “Can I help?”

“Only if you do exactly as I say. Got it?”

Jesse leaned against the corral fence. His boot heel hooked on the lowest rung. He took off his hat, smoothed his black hair and put it back on. “We found evidence that there was a third person involved in the kidnapping.”

Her news about Andrea would have to wait. This was big. “Tell me.”

“At the place by the stream where Dylan met Nicole, we found two sets of prints. Two men. They were positioned in such a way that they had a clear shot at both Nicole and Dylan.”

Fiona understood immediately. “They threatened her. If she hadn't told Dylan those things, they would have killed both her and Dylan.”

The kidnappers' threat had produced the effect they wanted. Dylan had been convinced by Nicole's performance, and he called off the search for her.

“After she talked to Dylan, Nicole rode south. Near your house, she was joined by both men. They rode to a graded dirt road. We couldn't find tire marks, but a car must have been parked there.”

“Zeke O'Toole's car,” she said.

He nodded. “I'm assuming that one of them drove into town to hook up with the third man. He's the one who was holding the ransom.”

“And where was Nicole?”

“She had to be in the car. Tracks showed that the kidnapper who had been left behind rode to the Circle M to return the three horses. Two horses were riderless.”

She hung on every word of his explanation. It amazed her that he'd discovered so much from tracking. “Then what happened?”

“The trail stops there. We don't know what happened next, but I'm assuming two of the men—probable Butch and Richter—came back here, and you heard them arguing.”

Once again, the clues had led to her house. “Why here? What were they looking for?”

He shrugged. “I've been asking myself the same question. And I don't have an answer.”

“If the sheriff was here, he'd probably tell you that they rode back toward my house because I'm the mastermind of the whole kidnapping scheme.”

“Sheriff Trainer has some explaining to do,” he said. “Dylan and I found these tracks. Why didn't he?”

“Maybe he didn't know where to look.”

“That's what Dylan said. None of the other trackers thought to look up higher on the hillside, to check possible sniper positions.”

“You're a better tracker than they are.”

“I'm not a genius,” he protested.

She reached toward him, and pointed her forefinger, counting each of the buttons on his shirt. “But you're good. Very good. Better than average.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Intuition.”

A slow grin spread across his face. God, he was handsome. His voice was low and sexy as he asked, “What else does your intuition tell you?”

That we're meant to be together. That you're the man I'm meant to spend the rest of my life with.
It'd be crazy to blurt out that kind of declaration. They'd only known each other for a matter of days—not long enough make a life-changing decision. She'd only just decided that she might be interested in sex. Making plans for the future? She wasn't ready to take that giant step.