Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After (38 page)

Last night she'd slept upstairs in their bedroom. Shep had held her and given her a chaste good-night kiss. When she'd asked if something was bothering him, he
told her not to worry about him. She should just concentrate on taking care of herself.

She
was
taking care of herself, but she wanted to take care of
him,
too. Why wouldn't he accept that?

When the phone rang, she realized how much she missed the chatter and laughter of the boys. She lifted the phone from the dock on the end table, recognizing Ryder's number on the small screen. She hadn't told him about the miscarriage scare. She hadn't wanted a…fuss.

“Hi, there, how are you? I haven't heard from you in a while,” she said brightly.

“I've been busy,” he responded gruffly. “Is Shep there?”

“Not right now. He drove into town. Why?”

“Because I need to talk to you.”

“So talk.”

“I'd like to do this face-to-face.”

“Uh-oh. I smell a problem. What's going on, Ryder?”

“I told you, I want to talk to you in person. How long will he be gone?”

“He just left about fifteen minutes ago. He was driving into Lubbock to pick up some kind of equipment. I think he might stop to get the boys new sneakers, and they'll probably convince him they need ice cream. So I imagine he'll be gone at least an hour.”

“Good, I'll be over in five minutes.”

“Where are you?”

“I had to stop at the police station in Sagebrush, so I'll be there almost by the time you get to the door.”

“Ryder, tell me what this is about.”

“It's about your husband. I'll be there in five.”

Raina couldn't even imagine what Ryder had to tell her. She didn't like the fact at all that he was acting mysterious about it. Could this have anything to do with that background check he'd warned her he was going to run? It shouldn't. She'd told him to forget about it.

By the time she gathered a few toys from the sofa in the living room, she heard a rap on the kitchen screen door.

“Come in,” she called, wishing Ryder felt at home here, wishing he and Shep could become friends.

Seconds later, Ryder stood in the doorway, a sober expression on his face. He was dressed in street clothes—jeans and a snap-button shirt, and he was carrying a manila envelope.

Ryder glanced around. “It's quiet. Where's the baby?”

“Eva has Manuel. Shep decided I needed a break.”

Ryder crossed to the sofa where she was seated and handed her the envelope. “Do you want to read it in private, or do you want me to tell you what's in it?”

“Why don't you tell me what this is all about.” She tried to remain calm. But her hands were a little clammy, and she was suddenly afraid to open the envelope.

“I told you I was going to do a background check on McGraw.”

“And I told you not to.”

“Yeah, well, I don't always listen to you. And it's a good thing I didn't.”

“What did you find out? That he has speeding tickets?” If she kept this light, maybe nothing serious would come of it.

“I didn't just want his paper trail. I wanted real information.”

“And how do you get that?”

“Old-fashioned detective work. I had a couple of road blocks, though—retirement, vacations, that kind of thing.”

“I don't understand what you were investigating.”

“I know cops out there, Raina. They connected me with other cops. I finally found out where McGraw spent his teenage years—in Sandy Cove, California.”

“He spent his childhood in a foster home, I know that.”

“More than one foster home.”

“That's not unusual.”

“I suppose not, but I contacted a deputy in Sandy Cove. The retired chief of police hasn't answered my calls and that made me suspicious.”

“Maybe he didn't have anything to tell you.”

“Possibly. But the deputy did. He remembers the night that McGraw supposedly stole a truck, though there's nothing in black and white on file.”

“Supposedly?”

“McGraw was fourteen when he spent the night in jail.”

“A night in jail? He was just a boy!”

“He stole a truck, Raina.”

“Supposedly,” she repeated. “Why doesn't the deputy know for sure?”

“He wasn't on duty that night. He just heard about what happened through the rumor mill. The chief wouldn't talk about it. The foster family kicked McGraw out, and that's
not
a ‘supposedly.'”

“Where did he go?”

“Conroy, the deputy, said he was sent to stay with a guy who took in troubled kids.”

Closing her eyes, Raina tried to absorb that. She hated to admit to Ryder that she knew nothing about
Shep's early years. He still hadn't opened up to her about any of that.

“I've also looked into how McGraw made his money. I haven't found anything underhanded yet, but once a hoodlum, always a hoodlum.”

“People can change! Boys grow into men.”

“I don't believe people change, Raina. You know that. And boys who get into trouble usually turn into men who get into trouble.”

“Shep is a wonderful father,” she said hotly. “You have no right—”

Ryder held up his hand to cut her off. “I'm your big brother. I have the right to protect you. Do you know anything about Shep McGraw before he moved here?”

All she knew was that a woman had hurt him deeply. She wasn't about to tell Ryder about that. “I know some things.”

“The bare minimum, I bet,” Ryder muttered. “I just want you to be careful. I'm going to dig around some more. If I were you, I'd do the same—quietly—without letting him know about it.”

“Ryder!”

Ignoring her scolding tone, he stood and handed her the envelope. “I can see I'm not going to get very far with you. These are my notes on everyone I talked to. I intend to reach that chief of police, whether he wants to talk to me or not. After I do, I'll be in touch.”

She handed him back the envelope. “I don't want this.”

He settled it on her lap once again. “Don't be stupid, Raina. You have a baby to protect.” After he gave her shoulder a squeeze, he strode out of the house, leaving her in a world of turmoil. Ryder had just made her
question everything she thought she knew about her husband. What exactly should she do now?

Shep checked the rearview mirror and saw Roy and Joey licking ice-cream cones. He had to smile, though he was definitely going to have a mess to clean up in the backseat. “Use your napkins,” he warned them.

Shep's cell phone rang and he pushed a button to put the call on the truck's speaker. “Hey, Cruz. What are you up to?”

“Just checking to see if the groom is still as happy as he was the day he got married.”

“Married life is good. We had a scare this week. We thought Raina might have a miscarriage, but everything seems to be okay now.”

“That's great.”

“You didn't just call to congratulate me again, did you?”

“You always could read me. I wanted to let you know someone has been asking questions.”

“Questions about what?”

“About you. My ranch might be two hours north, but I have friends in Sandy Cove.”

Just like Sagebrush, Sandy Cove was a town where gossip traveled in circles to as many people as it could find.

“What
about
me?”

“Background stuff, mostly. When you lived where, who you lived with, where you got your money.”

“I see.”

“Do you know who's looking into everything?” Cruz asked.

“I can make a good guess. Raina's brother's a cop.
He and I didn't take to each other too well, so I have a feeling he's fishing.”

“He won't find anything.”

“Not on paper. But what he finds out depends on who he talks to.”

“Not many people can remember back that far.”

“I hope you're right.”

“I guess you haven't told Raina what happened when you were a kid?”

“I didn't see the point.”

“Maybe there is one now. Maybe you should tell her before her brother does.”

“Did anyone ever tell
you
you had some smarts?”

“Just a teenage rebel named Shep, who became my older brother.”

“And Matt.”

“Yeah, and Matt, too. We'll never be able to repay our debt to him.”

“No, but we can pass along what he gave to us by helping other kids.”

Shep knew they were both thinking about growing up on Matt's ranch, what they'd learned there, what they'd been given there.

Cruz interrupted his thoughts. “If you need a character reference, give me a call.”

“Will do. Thanks, Cruz, for giving me a heads-up.”

“Anytime.”

When Shep ended the call, both Roy and Joey were still catching drips of ice cream with their tongues on their cones. But he felt as if he'd been thrust back in time. Now he had to decide when and how to tell Raina that he'd seen the inside of a jail.

A
s soon as Shep kissed Raina, he knew something was wrong. She didn't respond as she usually did. Afterward, her gaze didn't meet his—and she always looked him directly in the eye.

Granted, they hadn't been very physical the past week, not with the miscarriage scare, not with wondering what would happen if they lost the baby.

“Supper will be ready in about an hour,” she told him as she turned away.

Shep had encouraged Joey and Roy to go upstairs and wash the ice cream from their hands and face. No time like the present to ask, “What's wrong?”

Good at reading people, he watched Raina do something she'd never done before.

She lied to him. “Nothing's wrong.” She laid her
hand on her stomach. “I have a lot to think about, that's all. Did the boys have ice cream? Should I postpone supper another half hour?”

“Yes, they had ice cream,” he answered, turmoil twisting his gut. This mundane conversation was driving him crazy. But he had to go slowly. “I brought you something,” he said, hoping he was wrong about all of this, hoping she wasn't lying, hoping Ryder hadn't gotten to her.

Now she did swing around to face him. “What?”

He'd dropped the catalogues on the table when he came in. Now he picked them up and presented them to her. “I stopped at that furniture store in Lubbock that we passed a couple of times. I thought you might be interested in picking out what you want for the baby.”

In the silence, there was that question between them again…the one he saw in her eyes. The one that echoed in his heart.
What would have happened if we had lost the baby?

After she took the catalogue from him and paged through it, her eyes grew moist. “Oh, Shep. I don't know when I'll be comfortable ordering furniture, after what just happened.”

He clasped her shoulders. “Hey, no pressure here. I just thought you could make a wish list.”

That suggestion seemed to bring even more glistening anguish to her eyes. She murmured, “We have to talk.”

“About?”

After a deep, shaky breath, she glanced toward the stairs.

“I don't even know how to begin,” she said in a low
voice. “Ryder stopped by. He brought me some…information. Information about you.”

Shep's body was strung tight, every nerve in it firing warning signals. “Did you
ask
him to get information?”

“No! In fact, after I told him I was pregnant he wanted to, and I told him not to.”

“You knew this and you didn't tell me?”

“At that point, you and I hadn't made any decisions. I just told Ryder to forget it.”

“And you really thought he'd do that?”

“I don't know. I didn't think it would matter. I didn't think he'd find anything. I trusted that you were who you seemed to be.”

“And who was that, Raina?” Anger was starting to build, but he held it in, kept it locked up tight.

“You're a wonderful father, a business owner, and you seem to be a good person.”

“Seem to be?” He must have let something escape in his voice, because she took a step away from him.

He dropped his hands to his sides. Damn it! Didn't he have a right to be angry? Didn't he have the right to believe she'd stand by him, not believe the first rumor that came along? Hadn't they said vows and made a commitment? Was she going to use this as an excuse to walk away?

“He's trying to protect me, Shep.”

“Do you feel you
need
to be protected?”

The question seemed to sway between them, until she took hold of it and answered it. “He brought me an envelope. He gave me his notes concerning the people he'd talked to in Sandy Cove.”

He could already feel her withdrawal and doubts.
“And just what did they have to say?” His tone was sarcastic, but he couldn't help it.

“Shep, this isn't easy for me. Ryder just called, came over and set it all down in front of me.”

“What did he say, Raina?” Shep was having a difficult time pushing away a sense of betrayal.

“He told me you'd stolen a truck when you were fourteen, got thrown in jail and got kicked out of your foster home. He said you were sent to stay with someone who took in juveniles who got into trouble.”

“And who did he get this information from?”

“A deputy. Burt Conroy. Are you saying it isn't true?”

Shep always tried to speak the truth. But sometimes the circumstances around it weren't black or white. “You know what, Raina? I'm not sure it matters if it's true or not. You've known me for months. You've watched me with my boys.” He saw her wince when he called them
his,
but right now, they felt like
his,
not
theirs.
“You married me, said vows, said you'd be committed for a lifetime. So I have a question for
you.
Don't you trust your own judgment, even if you don't trust me?”