Lonestar Secrets (21 page)

Allie chuckled and pressed her fist against the small of her back. "How are things between the two of you?You seem to be getting along well. He didn't strangle you when you laughed at him."

"We're getting by. I don't know that we'll ever be more than polite roommates though."

"That's what I thought about Rick and me. Or rather, I thought we'd be enemies."

"Enemies?"

"The first time I met him, he yelled at me and implied I was a lousy mother."

Shannon winced. "And he lived to tell the tale?"

"I spared his life, but just barely. I thought we'd have a marriage of convenience only, but at the last minute Rick decided not to say the vows unless he meant to keep them. He said love was a choice and that we could choose to love one another."

"And it worked?"

Allie's white teeth flashed in the dark. "What do you think?"

"Jack said he means to honor his vows, but I'm not feeling much love come my way." Shannon laughed, but only because she didn't want to show Allie how much she was beginning to want more than courtly kindness. She wanted to surprise a fire in his eyes.

Allie studied Shannon's downcast face. "Is any love floating his way?"

"No."

"You think you could love him if you let yourself?"

Could she? Shannon remembered high school and the way she'd daydreamed about Jack. Only to be humiliated. "I don't know. I'm such a loser at love. Not that I've had much experience. The children's father was my one and only disastrous foray into romance."

"Watch Jack stare at you. And go for a trial kiss. He's a redblooded male. He's nibbling at the bait."

Shannon rolled her eyes. "He's not sure what I'll do next."

"It's always good to keep a guy on his toes," Allie said. Her hand moved to her belly and she rubbed it.

"You having contractions?"

"A few, but they're just getting me ready. I don't think this munchkin will show up for another two weeks. I was right on my due date with Betsy."

"But you're huge. My girls were nearly a month early. You could come at any time."

Allie heaved herself to her feet. "But not tonight. Here come the guys. I'm heading for bed." She called for Betsy, and the little girl came grumbling to take her hand.

The twins followed them to the steps and each child took one of Shannon's hands. Their fingers curled trustingly around hers, and she didn't think she'd ever experienced such contentment.

Jack came toward them beside Rick, and she examined Jack's face in the moonlight. It wasn't just his good looks that drew her, but his tender way with the girls. She'd watched him with his hired hands too. He was demanding but fair. He showed his integrity every day, and that was a powerful accelerant to the attraction she'd always had to him.

When they'd waved good-bye to the Baileys, it was too late to go to her ranch for that key, so she took the girls up for their baths. Half an hour later, the girls were snuggled in the bed beside her. Their hair was still damp, and their skin still held the delicious aroma of soap and little girl. She grabbed a book from the night table and opened it. The girls loved her to read to them before bed.

She brushed her lips across the top of Faith's hair. Small differences were finally beginning to set the girls apart. Faith loved licorice, but Kylie was partial to jelly beans. Kylie had a way of tipping her head to look up while Faith took the world head-on, just like Jack. Faith's hair was slightly shorter than Kylie's. But the biggest difference was Kylie called her "Mommy" and Faith called her "Miss Shannon." She longed to change that, to see Faith's lips form the word Mommy.

Faith twisted a lock of Shannon's hair in her fingers. "Your hair is like mine and Kylie's. Why do you look like me?"

There was no easy answer. She'd told Jack he could decide when to tell Faith, and she'd clung to her patience. Every fiber of her being longed to tell her children the truth. They'd be so excited to know they were true sisters. Twins.

"We have fairy hair, don't we, Mommy?" Kylie said. "The fairies gave it to us."

"Well maybe not the fairies. But God did. What we look like is his decision." She smiled at the way the girls looked into one another's faces and giggled. She realized telling them the truth wasn't just about her life and what she wanted, but about the girls being better for knowing too. Their love would deepen beyond friendship.

Faith accepted her answers for now. Shannon wondered if she would remember them later when she found out the truth. She might think Shannon had lied to her.

"Read the story, Mommy," Kylie demanded. She scooted closer to her mother.

Shannon slipped open the book before Faith could ask more questions. "Are you ready to see what Alexander is up to today?" They'd been reading the Judith Viorst books, and today's was Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. She plunged into the story and soon had the girls giggling about Alexander's misadventures.

A light knock came at the door. "Come in," Faith called.

The door swung open, and Jack stepped in. "Sorry to bother you, but it sounded like you all were having too much fun without me. What's going on?"

"Just a story." Shannon held up the book.

His hair stuck up on end, mussed by his hat. A few buttons had come undone on his shirt as if he'd started to get ready for bed, and maybe he had, because he was in his stocking feet.

She sensed he was lonely. "You want to read to them for a while?"

"Yes, Daddy, you read!" Faith bounced up and down in the bed. "Get in bed with us." She threw back the covers.

Shannon froze. Not a good idea. But before she could think up an excuse, Jack crossed the room in four steps and flopped onto his back next to Faith. At least he was on top of the covers. He playfully snatched the book from her hand, settled it on his stomach, and began to read.

The lull of his deep voice reading the book loosened the tense muscles in Shannon's back. She settled Kylie on her other arm and watched the delight on the faces of the girls. A complete family. Something she'd wanted all her life. What would it be like to belong to this family completely? To this man? Shannon couldn't wrap her mind around it. She was so used to fighting to survive, to make something of herself. She needed to learn to rest in her circumstances, but she didn't know how.

Jack nestling with them on Faith's other side was somehow right. She wondered if he was thinking of Blair, but she didn't really want to know. Not tonight. Tonight she wanted to imagine there was room for her in his heart too. Her eyelids drifted shut, influenced by the warmth of the bed and the sound of his voice.

There was an absence of sound, and her eyes flew open. How long since he'd quit reading? She glanced over and saw him staring at her. He had his head propped on one arm, and the soft expression in his eyes made her mouth go dry.

"Sorry I fell asleep," she whispered. "You read well."

His gaze never left her face. "It didn't seem that way when you were snoring.

"I don't snore!"

He grinned. "Gotcha." His gaze drifted to the twins. "The girls are both sleeping. You want me to move them to their beds?"

She realized what she wanted more than anything was for the four of them to be together. For his warm expression to stay right there pinning her to the pillow. "Not yet," she whispered. Her gaze locked with his, and she couldn't look away.

He leaned nearer, over the top of his sleeping daughter. Close enough Shannon could feel his breath on her face. Near enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. She lost herself in that gaze. His head started down and she knew he was going to kiss her. Holding her breath, she waited until his warm lips brushed hers. A faint impression of skin-to-skin was all she got before he jerked back and slipped from the bed before she could say a word or even register how that kiss had felt.

"Jack?" she managed to say.

He was fleeing toward the door, but he turned at the sound of his name. "I'm sorry, Shannon, that was out of line."

"I'm your wife," she said. Where had she gotten the courage to imply she welcomed his kiss?

"Blair " He ran his hand through his hair, disrupting it even more.

Shannon slipped out of bed, avoiding Kylie, and went on bare feet to where he stood. "I know you loved her, Jack. And she loved you. She'd want you to be able to go on, to make a new life and be happy. Blair wouldn't expect you to mourn the rest of your life. We can make this a real marriage if we want to. If we decide to try to learn to love one another." She couldn't believe she was saying those words. He'd think she was brazen and bold, but she had to speak her piece.

Love was a choice, Allie had said. Shannon believed it too. She put her hand on his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. There was a war going on inside him, and he was the only one who could decide what their future was to be.

His hands came down on her shoulders, and he pulled her toward him. Her pulse gave a leap of joy, but it stumbled almost as quickly.

"No!" He thrust her away and fled the room.

Shannon stood in the empty hallway with the breeze from the open window blowing through her thin nightgown.

15

JACK HAD BEEN A BEAR WITH A SORE HEAD SINCE LAST NIGHT. ON THE drive to and from the mustang camp, he had barely spoken. Shannon wasn't about to ask him to go with her after work to find the key to the lockbox they'd found in the motor home. She decided to ride over to her uncle's ranch on horseback while Jack sequestered himself in his office to write out monthly bills.

She left the girls watching a video while Enrica cooked supper. It wouldn't be dark for a few hours, so she decided to take a detour through the canyon. When she stepped outside, the back of her neck prickled as though someone was watching her. She glanced carefully around the landscape but saw no one. It must have been her imagination. She hadn't seen or heard from the intruder or Mary Beth in days, though Shannon had called and texted her cell phone several times.

The trail through the canyon was a prettier ride, though a bit harder on the horse. She didn't think the mare would complain, though she wished she had jewel to ride. With the leather reins in her hands and her knees pressing against the saddle, she was at home. The sun baked the skin on her arms, and the steady gait of the horse bounced the cares of the week off her back. Rounding the trail past the wash, she reined in the mare and glanced around. Had she heard something? Carefully staring through the pinon and mesquite trees, she watched for movement. A bird took flight, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

She urged the horse forward again just as a slither of movement came from her left. This time she wasn't going to stop. Digging her heels into the mare's flank, she took off for the house that she could see now. Almost immediately she heard the sound of hoofbeats following. She dared a glance toward the sound and saw a big man mounted on a black horse chasing her. He was too far back to tell for sure, but she was sure it was the guy who had broken into her house and attacked her in the kitchen. Had he been watching her from the hills at Jack's ranch? No wonder she'd sensed something.

She urged the mare into a full-out run. Crouching over the horse's neck, she raced for the safety of the house. She knew where a gun was stashed. If the situation hadn't been so perilous, she would have laughed at the way the man sat in the saddle. He was like a sack of potatoes, letting the horse's gait toss him around. At least it slowed him down.

She reached the house well ahead of her pursuer. Unlocking the door, she leaped inside and slammed it behind her. Throwing the dead bolt, she checked the other doors, then ran to the office and snatched up the shotgun on top of the bookcase. It wasn't loaded, so she jammed two shells into the chamber, then pumped it so it was ready to fire.

The door rattled and she ran to it. "I've got a gun!" she shouted. "I wouldn't mind taking you out."

The knob stopped its movement, then she saw the man's dark head bob past the window. He was heading to the back door. She rushed to the kitchen where she saw the keys she'd come here to find. Stuffing them in her pocket, she watched the doorknob. The weakest link was this door. Any man worth the label could kick it in. The frame around it was rotting, and the latch didn't fully connect.

But the door stayed shut. And quiet. The silence unnerved her. She could sense him waiting. She tiptoed to the sink and glanced out through the window. Her mare was still out at the hitching post. Maybe she'd try for a quick getaway. But no, that wouldn't work. He might be lurking right outside the door.

She had no choice but to call for help. Rick would be closer, but Jack would be furious if she didn't call him. She punched in the number on her cell phone.

He answered on the second ring. "Shannon, where are you?"

"At my uncle's. A guy chased me here on horseback."

"On my way."

The sound of Jack's breathing rattled through the phone. She heard his boot heels clatter over the porch, then the slam of his truck door. "I'm going to call Rick," he said. "He might get there first."

"I'm safe right now. I've got a shotgun pointed at the door." She strained to hear anything past her gasps for breath.

"I'll call you right back."

The phone went dead in her ear and she swallowed past her dry throat. Without Jack's voice, she was alone. Where was the intruder? He wasn't likely to chase her here then leave her alone. She tipped her head to the side and listened. Was that a creak from upstairs? Stepping to the bottom of the staircase, she scanned the part of the hallway that she could see. When her phone rang, she nearly screamed.

"Rick's not home," Jack said. "I'm almost there though. Where is the guy?"

"I think he might be upstairs," she whispered. "I heard something" She glanced around for somewhere to barricade herself until Jack got there. Maybe the office. She started for the doorway off the stairway hall, but a sudden movement on the steps made her turn and swing up the gun.

The man who had attacked her weeks ago in the kitchen rushed down the steps toward her. In a split second, she registered that he was dressed in camo gear and had close-cropped dark hair and a scar on his forehead. His teeth were bared. Her gaze fastened on his handgun, and almost without thinking, she fired the shotgun. She had aimed the warning shell at his feet, and splinters flew from the steps. He recoiled when the wood exploded at his boots and nearly fell. He stood and brought his gun around as she pumped the gun again and aimed at his chest.