Buckhorn Beginnings (9 page)

“He
is
a preppy. Very into the corporate image and climbing the higher social ladder, though I didn't always know that. My father scoffed at the idea that Alden would chase me because regardless of his temper, I wouldn't be that important to him in his grand scheme of things.”

He watched her face and knew she was holding something back, but what? Sawyer pushed her, hoping to find answers. “Even though you walked out on him?”

“I left, I didn't walk out.”

“What the hell's the difference?”

She sighed wearily. “You make it sound like I staged a dramatic exit. It wasn't like that at all. I
found out he didn't care about me, I packed up my stuff, wrote him a polite note and left.”

Her body was tense, her expression carefully neutral. Sawyer narrowed his gaze. “Why did he ask you to marry him in the first place if he didn't care about you?”

She closed up on him, her face going blank, and Sawyer knew she still didn't trust him, didn't trust any of them. It made him so angry his hands curled into fists. He wasn't the violent type, but right now, he would relish one of Morgan's barroom brawls.

Sawyer surged to his feet to pace. He wanted to shake her; he wanted to pull her up against his body, feel her softness and kiss her silly again until she stopped resisting him, until she stopped fighting. He tightened his thighs, trying for an ounce of logic. “How in hell are we supposed to figure this out if you won't even answer a few simple questions?”

Morgan leaned back and stacked his hands behind his head. Jordan propped his chin on a fist. Gabe lifted one brow.

“You're not supposed to figure anything out.” Honey drew a deep breath, watching him steadily. “You're just supposed to let me go.”

S
AWYER'S DARK EYES
glittered with menace, and his powerful body tensed.

Watching him with an arrested expression, Morgan murmured, “Fascinating.”

Jordan, also watching, said, “Shh.”

Honey turned to Gabe, ignoring the other brothers, and especially Sawyer's astounding reaction to her refusal of help. She couldn't look at him without hurting, without wishing things could be different. She'd known him almost no time at all, yet she felt as if she'd known him forever. He'd managed, without much effort, to forge a permanent place in her memory. After she was gone, she'd miss him horribly.

Gabe grinned at her. It seemed they all loved to be provoking, but she wasn't up to another round. All the questions on Alden had shaken her. She'd tried to answer without telling too much, juggling her replies so that Sawyer might be appeased but at the same time wouldn't learn too much. Alden had been so vicious about her refusal to come back to him, to continue on with the marriage, she didn't dare involve anyone else in her troubles, especially
not Sawyer, until she better understood the full risk, and why it existed in the first place.

She'd been looking blankly at Gabe for some time now, and she cleared her throat. “Does your handyman expertise extend to cars?”

“Sure.”

Jordan kicked him under the table. Honey knew it, but in light of everything else they'd done, it didn't seem that strange or important.

While Gabe rubbed his shin and glared daggers at Jordan, Sawyer stalked over to her side of the table. With every pump of her heart, she was aware of him standing so close. She could feel his heat, breathe his scent, unique above and beyond the other brothers, who each pulsed with raw vitality. But her awareness, her female sensitivity, was attuned to Sawyer alone. Her skin flushed as if he'd stroked those large, rough hands down her body, when in fact he'd done no more than stand there, gazing down at her.

When she refused to meet his gaze, he propped both hands on his hips and loomed over her. “Gabe can fix your car, but you're not going anywhere until I'm satisfied that it's safe, which means you're going to have to quit stalling and explain some things.”

Honey sighed again and tilted her head back to see him. Sawyer was so tall, even when standing she was barely even with his collarbone. Since she was sitting, he seemed as tall as a mountain. She really was tired of getting the third degree by overpowering men. “Sawyer, how can I explain what I don't understand myself?”

“Maybe if you'd just tell us what you do under
stand, we could come up with something that makes sense.”

Leave it to a man to think he could understand what a woman couldn't. Her father had always been the same, so condescending, ready to discount her input on everything. And Alden. She shuddered at her own stupidity in ever agreeing to marry the pompous ass. Now that she'd met Sawyer and seen how caring a man could be…

With a groan she leaned forward, elbows on the table, and covered her face with her hands.

She was getting in too deep, making comparisons she shouldn't make. Morgan was right, he could start tracking her down. And since she didn't know what the threat was, only that it was serious, it was entirely possible he'd accidentally lead the threat to her—and to this family. She couldn't have that.

Car keys hung accessible on the wall by the back door. Sawyer wouldn't be sleeping in the same room with her tonight; there was no need. She'd have to take advantage of the opportunity. She'd borrow one of their vehicles, go into town and then get a bus ticket. She could leave a note telling Sawyer where to find his car.

Just the thought of leaving distressed her on so many levels, she knew she had to go as soon as possible, whether she felt up to it physically or not.

Sawyer evidently wanted her for a fling; he'd made his interest very obvious with that last kiss. He'd also indicated he found her to be a royal pain in the backside, and no wonder, considering she'd wrecked his fence and left a rusted car in his lake,
along with taking his bed and keeping him up at night. When he wasn't watching her with sexual heat in his dark eyes, he was frowning at her with unadulterated frustration.

She felt the same incredible chemistry between them, but she also felt so much more. He had the family life she'd always wondered about, the closeness and camaraderie, the sharing and support that she'd always believed to be a mere fairy tale. So often she'd longed for the lifestyle he possessed. And he was that special kind of man who not only accepted that lifestyle, but also contributed to it, a driving force in making it work for everyone.

She found Sawyer very sexually appealing, but he also felt safe and comforting. Security was a natural part of him, something built into his genetic makeup. And after the way her engagement had ended, she would never settle for half measures again, not when there was so much more out there.

She heard the shifting of masculine feet, a few rumbling questions, then Sawyer leaned down, his hand gently cradling the back of her head. “Honey?”

With new resolution she pushed her chair back, forcing Sawyer to move. “You're not going to let up on this, are you?”

Morgan snorted. Sawyer shook his head.

“All right.” With an exaggerated sigh, she looked down, trying to feign weary defeat when inside she teemed with determination. “I'll tell you anything I can. But it's a long, complicated story. Couldn't it wait until the morning?”

She peeked up and caught Sawyer's suspicious
frown. With a forced cough that quickly turned real, she said, “My throat is already sore. And I'm so tired.”

Just that easily, Sawyer was swayed. He took her arm and helped her away from the table. “The morning will be fine. You've overdone it today.”

By morning, she'd be long gone. And once she got to the next town, she'd contact her sister and let her know she was all right, then she could go with her original plan. She'd hire a private detective and pay him to figure out what was going on while she stayed tucked away, and those she cared about would stay safely uninvolved. She'd never forget this incredible family of men…but they would quickly forget her.

“Sawyer…” Morgan said in clear warning, obviously not pleased with the plan. Honey knew that particular brother couldn't care less if she was sick. Even though she wasn't really
that
sick, not anymore. But he didn't know it.

“It's under control, Morgan.” Sawyer's tone brooked no arguments.

Morgan did hesitate, but then he forged on. “I know Honey's still getting over whatever ails her, but we really do need—”

With a loud gasp, she froze, then stiffened as his words sank in. Slowly, she turned to face Morgan. “You know my name.”

There was no look of guilt on his hard, handsome face, just an enigmatic frown.

Sawyer shook his head in irritation while glaring at Morgan. “Around here, everything female is called honey.”

Casey nodded. “We've got an old mule out in the field that Jordan named Honey because that's all she'd answer to.”

She almost laughed at the sincerity on Casey's face, but instead she pulled free of Sawyer's hold and blazed an accusation. “He wasn't using an endearment. He was using
my name.
”

Morgan shrugged. “Honey Malone. Yeah, I went through your purse.”

Her eyes widened. “You admit it? Just like that?” She nearly choked on resentment and coughed instead.

While Sawyer patted her on the back and Casey hurried to hand her a drink, Morgan said, “Why not?” He rolled his massive shoulders, not the least concerned with her ire. “You show up here under the most suspicious circumstances and you claim someone is trying to hurt you. Of course I wanted some facts. And how could I run that check on you if I didn't have your name? I thought you'd already figured that out.”

Her mouth opened twice, but nothing came out. She should have realized he'd already gone through her things, only she'd been so busy trying to hold her own against him, and she'd taken his words as an idle threat, not a fait accompli. She was making a lot of stupid mistakes, trusting them all when she shouldn't.

Tonight.
She had to leave tonight.

Then she remembered her bare feet and wanted to groan. She couldn't very well get on a bus without shoes. Maybe she could swipe a pair from Casey.

She glanced at his feet and saw they were as large as Sawyer's. Good grief, she was in a house of giants.

Sawyer tipped up her chin. “He only looked in your wallet to find your name. He didn't go through every pocket or anything. Your privacy wasn't invaded any more than necessary. Your purse is in the closet in my room, if you want to check and make sure nothing is missing.”

She ground her teeth together. “It isn't that.” The last thing she was worried about was them stealing from her. She had little enough with her that was worth anything.

“Then what is it?”

She thought quickly, but trying to rationalize her behavior while the touch of Sawyer's hand still lingered on her face was nearly impossible. Everything about him set her off, but especially his touch. No matter where his fingers lingered, she felt it everywhere. “I…I don't have any shoes.”

He frowned down at her bare feet for a long moment. “Are your feet cold?”

She wanted to hit him, but instead she turned away. Her brain was far too muddled to keep this up. If she didn't get away from him, she'd end up begging him to let her stay. “I'm going to bed now. Jordan, thank you for dinner.”

He answered in his low, mesmerizing voice, no less effective for the shortness of his reply. “My pleasure.”

She glanced at him. “I'd offer to help with the dishes, but I have the feeling—”

“Your offer would definitely be turned down.”

Sawyer released her, but added, “I'll be in to check on you in a few minutes.”

The last thing she needed was to be tempted by him again. “No, thank you.”

He stared at her hard, his gaze unrelenting. “In a few minutes, Honey, so do whatever it is you feel you have to do before going to bed. I left the antibiotics and the ibuprofen on the bathroom counter so you wouldn't forget to take them. After you're settled, I want to listen to your chest again.”

There was a lot of ribald macho humor over that remark. Jordan choked down a laugh, and this time Gabe kicked him.

With a glare that encompassed them all, Honey stalked off. She was truly weary and wondering where in the world she was going to find shoes for her feet so she could steal a car and make her getaway from a group of large, overprotective, domineering men whom she didn't really want to leave at all.

Gads, life had gotten complicated.

 

H
E KNOCKED
on the door, but she didn't answer. Sawyer assumed she was mad and ignoring him, not that he'd let her get away with it. He opened the door just a crack—and saw the bed was empty. She was gone. His first reaction was pure rage, tinged with panic, totally out of proportion, totally unexpected. He shoved the door wide and stalked inside, and then halted abruptly when he saw her. His gut tightened and his heart gave a small thump at the picture she presented.

Honey sat on the small patio outside his room. She had her feet curled up on a chair, her head resting to the side, and she was looking at the lake. Or maybe she wasn't looking at anything at all. He couldn't see her entire face, only a small part of her profile. She looked limp, totally wrung out, and it angered him again when he thought of her stubbornness, her refusal to let him help her.

No one had ever refused his help. He was the oldest, and his brothers relied on him for anything they might need, including advice. Casey got everything from him that he had to give. Members of the community sought him out when they needed help either with a medical problem or any number of other things. He was a figurehead in the town, on the town council and ready and willing to assist. He gave freely, whatever the need might be, considering it his right, part and parcel with who and what he was. But now, this one small woman wanted to shut him out.
Like hell.

Her physical impact on his senses was staggering. But it was nothing compared to the damn emotional impact, because the emotions were the hardest to fight and to understand. If it was only sex he wanted, he'd drive over the county limits and take care of the need. But he wanted
her
specifically, and it was making him nuts.

Being summer, it was still light out at eight o'clock, but the sun was starting to sink in the sky, slowly dipping behind a tree-topped hill across the lake. The last rays of sunshine sent fiery ribbons of color
over the smooth surface of the water. A few ducks swam by, and far out a fish jumped.

Sawyer went back and closed the bedroom door silently, drawn to her though he knew he should just walk away. As he passed the bathroom, he noticed her toothbrush, still wet, on the side of the sink, along with a damp washcloth over the spigot, and his comb that he'd lent her. Those things looked strangely natural in his private domain, as if they belonged. She'd evidently prepared for bed, then was lured—as he often was—by the incredible serenity of the lake.

Though the house had a very comfortable covered deck across the entire front and along one side by the kitchen, he'd still insisted on adding the small patio off his bedroom. In the evening, he often sat outside and just watched the night, waiting for the stars or the clouds to appear, enjoying the way mist rose from the lake to leave lingering dew on everything. The peacefulness of it would sink into his bones, driving away any restlessness. Many times his son or one of his brothers would join him. They didn't talk, they just sat in peace together, enjoying the closeness.

He'd never shared a moment like this with a woman, not even his wife.