Lonestar Secrets (22 page)

The breath seemed squeezed from her lungs. It was the closest she'd ever come to killing a man. "Move and your liver will be on the back wall," she said. "This is a scatter gun and there will be nothing left of you." Her voice quavered.

"If I squeeze off one round, you're dead," he said, his voice calm. "I'd say it's a standoff."

"With one difference," she panted, her fingers pressing the trigger. "You don't want to kill me because then you'll never get what you want."

He smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of Jack's truck wiped the smirk from his face.

"That's my husband," Shannon said. "You don't want to meet him."

Footsteps pounded up the porch. The door rattled, then the wood splintered as Jack kicked it in. Her attention was diverted, and in that split moment, the man bolted up the steps and disappeared around the corner.

The strength ran out of Shannon's legs, and she collapsed onto the bottom step as Jack rushed into the house brandishing some kind of automatic gun that was as big as a cannon. She smiled weakly. "You think you're taking out an army?"

His gaze swept the room. "Where is he?"

"Gone." Her hand shook as she pointed upstairs. A window shattered from somewhere on the second floor, and she heard a scrabbling sound on the pump shed roof. That must be how he'd gotten up there.

Jack started toward the door, and her teeth began to chatter. She rocked back and forth on the step until he came back inside.

"He got away," Jack said.

She was so cold. "I want to go home."

He helped her to her feet, and she burrowed against his chest instinctively. He stilled, then his arms came around her and he gripped her in a hold that was the most secure she'd ever felt.

"I've got you," he crooned in her ear.

When she was eight, she'd climbed a ladder that had been left out. Once she was on the barn roof, she couldn't get down. It was too high, too scary. Her father found her and told her he'd catch her if she jumped into his arms. And he had. He'd said those same words to her that Jack whispered against her hair. And then he'd dropped her.

There was danger in leaning too heavily on someone else. Shannon forced herself to remember Jack's reaction last night. It gave her the strength to push away. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smiled. "Thanks."

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to come over here? I would have brought you."

"You weren't speaking to me," she said, clamping down on her teeth so they didn't chatter. She didn't wait for his answer but shoved open the shattered door and stepped out onto the porch. The sun was beginning to go down.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jack stood with his hands on his hips and his hat pushed to the back of his head. "We need to report this to the sheriff."

"I'm fixing to head home." She grabbed the mare's reins. "I'll call the sheriff from there."

"That guy just chased you across the desert. How'd he know you were out there?"

"I think he was watching the ranch. I sort of sensed it but thought it was my imagination." She mounted and settled into the saddle. "I can't leave the mare here," she pointed out.

"I'll ride her back." He made a swipe for the reins, but the horse backed away.

"If you're worried, you can follow me in the truck. It's four-wheel drive. I can take the long way through the desert rather than through the canyon."

She wheeled and started out across the desert. She heard Jack mutter, but the wind snatched the meaning of his words. Peeking back, she saw he was following in the truck. She probably shouldn't have been so difficult. He could have ridden the mare and she could have taken the truck, but she needed the time to collect her thoughts. And her courage.

She glanced to her right and saw jewel's outline on the craggy outcropping. Reining in her horse, she whistled softly through her teeth. The black stallion began to pick his way down the rocks toward her. He'd nearly reached her when his head came up and his ears went back. He turned to stare into the darkness behind them, then snorted and ran off.

Was that guy out there? Shannon shuddered and urged her mare into a trot.

JACK TURNED ON HIS HIGH BEAMS TO ILLUMINATE THE WAY, BUT THE MARE pulled ahead of the light and made better time than he did in his truck. There were too many holes and washes to go very fast. Just his being behind Shannon should be a deterrent to whoever was following her.

The guy could have shot her. What was the money thing all about? His response to her last night had scared the fire out of him. She burned as hot as the Triple-M brand in his mind, scorching his memories of Blair, tossing his notions of what he had planned for his life onto a bonfire.

He killed the engine and watched Shannon dismount. She dragged her left foot as she led the mare to the barn. He got out and jogged to intercept her. "You go on into the house. You're limping. Did the guy hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine."

But she didn't protest when he took the reins from her, though she followed him into the barn. "Supper is probably on the table," he said. "Enrica's gonna be meaner than a junkyard dog if her meal's ruined."

"All the more reason to wait for you." She gave a mock shudder, and they began to walk together toward the barn.

"Did you whistle for that horse? The big black stallion?"

"That's Jewel. My dad got him just before he died. My uncle let him roam the ranch."

He wouldn't mind getting a closer look at the stallion. "You want to bring him here?"

She looked at him for a moment. "I don't know that he'd come. I'd like him to get used to staying on the property though. He could roam for miles."

"Where'd your dad get him?"

She hiked the leg of her jeans and propped her booted foot on a bale of hay. "I'm not really sure. He's got a brand on him that shows he's a thoroughbred. He has this lovely fluid motion when he moves. And he can run like a devil wind."

"I'd like to get a better look at him." Something nagged at him, a memory or story his dad had mentioned. "With all the excitement, did you get the keys you went after?"

She dug in her pocket and pulled them out, jingling them in front of his face. "Yep."

He finished currying the horse, then took the keys. "Quite a fistful. What do they all go to?"

"Who knows? Uncle Earl kept everything he ever owned. This hunk of keys is an accumulation of his whole life."

"Did your cousin find what he was looking for?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him. I didn't see the keys I loaned him on the counter though, so I'm guessing he hasn't. I'll check in with him later."

He motioned for her to go ahead of him out of the barn, then slid the door closed. "I'll call the sheriff while you go get the box."

"Back in a minute." Her gait was awkward as she ran ahead of him and disappeared inside.

The limp he'd noticed several times before they married was back. He should probably insist she see a doctor. He called the sheriff and explained what happened, then stopped to pet the dogs. Shannon met him in the foyer when he stepped inside the door. The aroma of fried chicken greeted him. She had the metal box in her hand.

"Let's go to the office," he said. "Quick, before Enrica comes after us with a butcher knife." He liked the sound of her laughter, but she quickly muffled it and followed him down the hall to the office. He swung the door shut and she set the box on his desk.

"Enrica will be pounding at the door any minute. How'd she do fried chicken with no wheat?"

"Rice flour," he muttered, peering at the tiny lock. He sorted through the jumble of keys on the ring. Not many were small enough to fit. He tried three and none of them opened it. "There's one more." The key slid easily into the slot, and there was a click when he turned it. "Got it!"

He straightened and peeked inside, rustling through the papers. "Seems critter free. You want to go through the papers by yourself?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "I'd like you to stay."

He could drown in the deep water of her eyes. He slid the box toward her, and the lid slammed shut again. Her hand shook when she reached toward it. "What do you think is in it?"

"I don't know, but it's a piece of my parents." Her fingers fumbled with the box, but she managed to get it open again. She touched the papers lying on top, and they crackled under her hand. "Old newspaper articles." She lifted them out one by one, opened them, and laid them on the desk. That was it. Nothing but the papers.

Jack stood by and let her have quiet for the job. He flipped on the desk light. "You could sit down," he said when he noticed she swayed where she stood. "You look exhausted."

"I am." She dragged her foot as she went around to the chair and dropped into it.

He moved the pile of papers and the box across the desk to her. She picked up the first article and began to read. "This is so strange," she said. "It's an article about a stolen racehorse." She held it up to him. "He looks like jewel. This says his name is Five Lives."

He held the article under the lamp and scanned it. "I haven't seen the horse up close and personal, but it resembles him. I saw Five Lives race once he was poetry in motion. Do you remember what jewel's brand looks like? There's a picture here."

"I didn't see the picture." She held out her hand and he gave it back. Her lips pursed as she read. "That's it that's his brand." She chewed on her lip. "He must have been stolen."

"I can try to find out more, get in touch with the owner."

She winced and lurched to her feet. "Oh, Jack no, please! I can't lose jewel. He was hurt when he came here. Someone beat him. I'm the only one he trusts. I can't give him back to some monster."

Jack glanced back down at the clipping. "The newspaper article says he's worth over a million dollars."

"Surely not now. His racing days are over."

"If he's really Five Lives, his owner could make a fortune on stud fees. Finding his owner is the right thing to do, Shannon."

Her eyes pled with him. "Not yet. Let's figure this out first."

He couldn't say no with her face soft with yearning. Nodding, he opened the door. "I'll poke around quietly and see if the owner is even still looking. Maybe he's dead or out of racing"

She went past him into the hall. It would kill her to turn over that horse, and Jack found himself praying fervently that she wouldn't have to. Even if he kept her at arm's length, he didn't want to see her hurt.

16

THE HOUSEHOLD SLEPT. ALL EXCEPT FOR SHANNON. COULD HER DAD HAVE stolen jewel? Or rather Five Lives, if that was really his name. She wouldn't have thought he would do something like that, but maybe he'd thought to sell the horse and get enough money to fund his treasure hunt. How well did a kid know her parents? And was there any connection between jewel and Mary Beth? Could the horse be the basis of the money the guy wanted? But no, Mary Beth never even knew about jewel. Shannon hadn't mentioned him.

Maybe her dad bought the horse not knowing he was stolen. Shannon liked that possibility better. But if he didn't know, why would he have kept those clippings locked up? Unless maybe he'd found out later and hadn't been any more willing to turn the horse over to his abuser than she was. Her head hurt from thinking about it.

Maybe some hot cocoa would help her sleep. She slipped out of bed and tiptoed out the door and down the steps. Jack had night-lights along the floor for the girls, and she had no trouble seeing, even with the vision in her left eye blurry. When Enrica saw her today, she'd asked Shannon if she'd eaten any bread, and sure enough, she'd had a piece of cake at the mustang mess hall. A cowboy had brought it in to celebrate his birthday. Maybe Enrica was onto something.

She warmed milk on the stove no microwave for Enrica then dumped in some hot chocolate mix. A few minutes later, cupping her hands around the warm cup, she inhaled the steam and moved to the table, where she eased into a chair.

Jack was noticing her unsteadiness. He'd commented on her limp. How much longer could she keep her secret? And should she? How could she think of making this marriage real if she remained unwilling to let him know about her MS?

She sipped the drink, letting the chocolate sit on her tongue. A noise came from behind her and she saw Faith shuffle into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. "Hey, sweetie, what are you doing up?"

"I woke up and went to your room, but you were gone," the little girl said, her eyes accusing.

"Want some milk, baby girl?" Jack asked, appearing in the doorway behind Faith. He wore a Dallas Cowboys T-shirt and dark blue pajama bottoms. He was barefoot.

Faith nodded and stepped closer to Shannon. Shannon lifted her onto her lap. Jack poured the little girl a cup of milk and handed it to her. Shannon inhaled the sweet scent of this daughter she hardly knew, relishing the warm weight of her on her thighs. Life didn't get much better than this. If she'd never come back to the ranch, she wouldn't have run into Jack. She had much to be thankful for even if she lived the next fifteen years as an unloved wife.

"Where's the hot sauce?" Jack teased, looking into Shannon's cup.

Faith wiggled off Shannon's lap. "I didn't bring it down, but I can run and get it for you."

"Sadist." He scooped up Faith and set her on the counter, then opened the refrigerator and peered inside. "How can you stand a hot drink? I'll have a coke." He extracted a Mountain Dew, popped the top, and took a swig.

"All that caffeine will make it harder to sleep."

He gave a pointed glance at her hot chocolate. "You're the pot calling the kettle black."

She grinned and took a big swig. "This little bit never bothers me. You'll be up all night."

"I couldn't close my eyes anyway. I did a little searching on the Internet after you went to bed. I found Five Lives. His owner still has a reward out for information leading to his whereabouts. It sounds like he was a doting owner. The kidnappers might have been the ones to mistreat him."

"Doting owner? Just because the owner knew his value doesn't mean he treasured jewel. I see men like that all the time. They spend their last penny on an `investment' but put the horse down the second they can't milk it of any more money."