Lonestar Secrets (27 page)

The man motioned a videographer to join them. The huge camera focused on Jack's face, and he tried not to notice. He slowed his steps when what he really wanted to do was to rush to the tub of icy water holding the drinks.

"I'm following an interesting story that's popped up," the reporter said. "Shannon Astor returned to town a few weeks ago, and you married her a week later. I've seen her daughter and yours. They're clearly twins. What's the story behind the amazing resemblance?" He thrust a mic in Jack's face.

Jack batted it away and grabbed the tail of his anger as it threatened to escape. "My personal life has nothing to do with anything. Ask me about the mustang training and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. But you leave my wife and daughters out of this."

The reporter jammed the mic under Jack's chin again. "Daughters, Mr. MacGowan? Are both girls your natural daughters? Did you and Ms. Astor break up and each take a child?"

Jack shoved past the reporter. "No comment." He sped up and walked away from the man and the camera. He should have known people would notice. He and Shannon should have figured out what they would say when asked. He ducked under the low-hung door frame. His boots clattered across the wide wooden boards of the old mess hall until he found a deserted corner where he could look over the crowd.

He spotted Shannon by the heavily laden tables of food. His nose picked up barbeque, his favorite. Grabbing a plate, he joined her at the buffet.

She glanced up. Dressed in slim-fitting jeans and a blue shirt that showed the smooth column of her neck, she was as fresh as when she'd left the house this morning. He'd better not get too close, not covered with dust like he was. She nodded, and he filled his plate with coleslaw, pork barbeque, corn, and pie, then followed her to the table.

"What's up?" she asked.

Her light aroma drifted his way, and he shifted to get a better whiff. "A TV reporter is asking questions about the girls. He's seen them and noticed how much they look alike. He thinks I'm their father and we split years ago, each taking one."

Her fork paused en route to her mouth. "Well that's an interesting theory. If he digs around, he'll find where we filed the adoption papers. But why does he care? It's hardly newsworthy."

"I'm the senator's son. We're likely to get more reporters asking questions. If there weren't so many in town because of the training, this probably would have slipped under everyone's radar."

She shook her head, and her shining curtain of blonde hair dusted her shoulders. "Not everyone. The folks who live here see the girls and wonder. They're just too polite to ask."

"We've never come up with what to say when asked."

Her gaze dropped to her plate, and she laid down her fork. "The truth probably works best."

"I was hoping to avoid causing embarrassment to Aunt Verna." He knew he'd said the wrong thing when her cheeks fired with color and her angry gaze skewered him.

"What about all the pain she's caused me?"

"I think it's balanced by the joy she brought me," he countered. "I wouldn't have had these five years with Faith. I wouldn't have a new daughter in my house."

"You wouldn't be burdened with a wife you don't love either." Her voice sounded choked.

Was that what she thought that he resented her? He cleared his throat. "You're not a burden, Shannon. I'm getting used to having you around."

She smiled, and the pain in her eyes faded. "You mean it?"

"I think we're rubbing along pretty well. The girls enjoy the playtime at night. And you're a nice sight across the dining room table." More than nice. He'd become uncomfortably aware of her. Like now, with the fragrance lingering around her making his head spin.

Her cheeks pinked up again. "I think we should tell the truth if we're asked. That the girls are twins. That's all we have to say. How we came to be married is no one's business. And it's not like we can keep their relationship quiet anyway. The girls tell anyone who will listen."

She stood with her half-full plate, then stumbled and went down on one knee. The plate of food fell from her fingers and dumped onto the floor. Jack jumped up and went to help her, but she was still clumsy and awkward as she struggled to her feet.

"You're eating wheat again," he said, gesturing to the donut on her plate. "Enrica is going to be all over you."

"Not if you don't tell her," she said as he bent to scoop up her plate and to clean the food from the floor. "Sorry I'm such a klutz."

"No problem." He dumped the Styrofoam plate into the trash can, then watched her walk to the restroom door and disappear inside.

She was limping. Had she been injured in her fall? When he got a chance, he was going to suggest she see the doctor.

20

SHANNON INTENDED TO GO TO HER UNCLE'S BEFORE SUPPER AND FIND THE pictures she'd promised Curt a few days ago. With Jack, of course. When she went out to the porch, she saw the TV van parked outside the gate to the ranch. She jogged to the barn behind the house. Jack had said she could ride any of the horses in his stable except Devil, his palomino stallion. She had her eye on a sorrel mare called Filly. After watching the trainers all week, she was ready to get into the saddle herself. With Enrica watching the girls, she had a Friday afternoon to herself, an unheard-of occurrence.

Jack was currying Devil when she stepped into the massive barn. His cowboy hat was pushed to the back of his head, and his face glistened from the heat of the day. "You ready to go to your uncle's?"

She nodded. "That nosy reporter is parked outside the gate so I thought I'd ride one of the horses across to the ranch."

"Not without me," he said. "That guy might come back. Besides, maybe I just want to spend some time with you," he said.

Shannon turned away rather than answer him. She saddled the mare and led the animal out of the barn. Before she could mount, Jack led Devil outside too. He wasn't going to let her make any excuses, and the thought of spending the rest of the afternoon in his company brought heat to her cheeks.

She swung up into the saddle and turned Filly's head to the west. Rocky outcroppings rose in the horizon beyond the scrubby shrubs and cactus. She dug her heels into the mare's flank, and Filly broke into a trot across the yard. Shannon had hoped to find jewel today, but the stallion would be sure to hide with Jack along.

Jack caught up with her when she reached the trail up the desert mountain. "I had a cougar try to get one of the colts last month. Keep an eye peeled on the rocks over your head."

"I'm not a greenhorn, Jack." She tried to soften the words with a smile, but she knew he caught her irritation because he shrugged and didn't return her smile.

She wished she could swallow that sense of independence that held her at arm's length from others. It had seen her through some bad times, but it tended to alienate people who didn't understand how important it was for her to be strong. Then she looked at people like Allie who weren't afraid to be vulnerable. Maybe they were the strong ones.

Shannon's gaze kept wandering to Jack's broad back on the way down to the desert. She wanted to ignore him and the way her nerves came to full alert in his presence. She wished she could be indifferent to him.

A flicker of movement on the rock above Jack's head caught her eye. The yellow eyes of a mountain lion scrutinized them. The lion's tail lashed as he crouched. "Jack, stop!" Shannon lifted her rifle from the pommel of her saddle.

The big cat's muscles flexed. She saw the nose below the whiskers sniffing the air, the little jiggle in its behind that signaled an imminent leap. She wasn't going to be in time. She managed to wrench the rifle loose and brought up the barrel. Jack reined in his horse, then went for his own rifle when he saw the puma, but the cat would be on him before he managed to get it out.

Shannon sighted down the barrel. She didn't want to hurt the mountain lion just scare it away. Her finger pressed down on the trigger, and the rifle recoiled against her shoulder. The bullet dug into the hillside to the right of the mountain lion, and shards of rock scattered. The big cat snarled and leaped back. The black tip of its tail was her last glimpse of the animal.

"Thanks," Jack said.

Shannon lashed her gun back to the saddle. "It was a big one. Probably eight feet from nose to tip of the tail. You would have done the same for me. I was in a good place to spot it."

He stared at her steadily. "Is there anything you can't do, Shannon? The more you let me in, the better I like you."

And the more she loved him. The realization nearly rocked her from her horse. She'd tried to guard against it, but he'd scaled the walls with ease. Yanking her gaze from his, she dug her heels into the mare's sides and ran from the temptation to tell him how she felt.

THE RANCH HELD NO APPEARANCE OF LIFE. TUMBLEWEEDS PILED AGAINST the barn and the fences. The house was shuttered, and the contrast against the bright sunshine made it seem more forlorn. Jack's gaze swept door and windows, but they were shut tight. At least no one had broken in.

Shannon stretched in the saddle. The sun glimmered off her pale blonde hair. Jack averted his gaze. He had to get a grip. He'd been without a woman so long that any female would be attractive if he was around her long enough. At least that's what he tried to tell himself.

Shannon swung to the ground and rocked on her boots as she stared at the house. Her brow furrowed as she glanced around the property. The sound of an engine and tires on gravel made him turn. A dusty blue pickup rolled over the ruts and holes in the narrow drive.

Shannon shaded her eyes with her hand, and when the man inside the vehicle stepped out, she gasped. She took a step back and grabbed the horse's reins as though she wanted to mount the animal and run.

"What's he doing here?" Jack asked.

Larue hadn't seen them standing by the barn yet. He stood staring at the house. He wore faded jeans and a Harley-Davidson T-shirt. A finger tipped his dusty cowboy hat to the back of his head. The expression on his face was guarded and speculative.

"I ... it's Tucker. Let's get out of here. I don't want to talk to him." Her voice was barely a whisper, and her white-knuckled grip on the reins tightened even more. She stumbled and Jack caught her fall. "Maybe he'll leave without seeing us."

"Since when are you afraid of Larue?" Jack studied her face. She'd called him Tucker. In a familiar way. He'd seen them talking a time or two out at the camp. He'd wondered then if they had a history.

Jack's movement attracted Larue's attention. His head came up and his smile sprang into view. He came toward them with his hand outstretched. His blue eyes twinkled under his hat, but it was like someone had turned on a light switch. All fake, as far as Jack was concerned.

"I thought I'd find you here," Larue said. When neither Shannon nor Jack made a move to take his hand, he dropped it back to his side, but his smile only widened. "The old place looks the same, still just as run-down as ever."

"What are you doing here, Tucker?" Shannon asked, her voice vibrating with anger.

He shrugged. "Some reporter tracked me down at the camp. She said I had twins. Twins! I had no idea. I only knew about the one kid."

The truth hit Jack like the kick of a bull. His constant rival had fathered the twins. Acid boiled in his gut. Shannon could have told him when he asked instead of deflecting his questions. She let him be sucker-punched. Right now, he couldn't stand even to look at her.

Larue glanced at Jack. "I hear you got one of my daughters. Kind of ironic, ain't it?" A sardonic grin twisted his mouth.

Only Shannon's hand on Jack's arm restrained him from jumping the trainer to wipe that smirk from his face.

Shannon straightened and shot a glare at Larue. "What do you care?You said you wanted nothing to do with a baby."

Jack managed somehow to control his temper. Larue's sudden interest could ruin all their plans. The adoptions weren't final yet. He wanted to speak his piece, but anything he might say would only inflame the situation. There was no love lost between him and Larue.

"You ready to pay about twenty-five thousand dollars in back support?" Shannon asked, her voice hard and inflexible. "It might be more. There's two, after all."

For the first time, Larne's smile wavered. "Back support?" he echoed.

The color was coming back to Shannon's cheeks. "That's what fathers do. They support their kids. You haven't paid one dime for the girls."

"You're sitting pretty anyway." Larue jerked a thumb at Jack. "Mr. Big Shot married you and plans to buy the girls."

Shannon gasped, and for once, her fast reply deserted her. Jack's grip on his emotions evaporated. He took a step forward and grabbed Larue's shirt collar. He lifted the man up until Larue stood on the toes of his boots. "You aren't fit to even be in the same room as my girls," Jack said through gritted teeth. He let go of Larue and gave him a shove backward.

Larue stumbled back before he recovered his balance and jerked his shirt down into place. "Just because you have money doesn't mean you can strip a man of his children," he said.

"They're not your children," Shannon said. "You're not even on the birth certificate."

Larue fingered the bullwhip at his waist. "A paternity test will prove I am. I have rights, you know." He walked stiff-legged back to his truck like a banty rooster. "You'll be hearing from me." He slammed the door behind him and the engine roared as he turned in the drive. Dust billowed from his tires and hid the vehicle from view.

Shannon sagged against the fence. Her lips trembled in her pale face. "This is my worst nightmare come to life," she said. "I can't let him have contact with the girls."

Her voice seemed to be coming from a long distance away. The magnitude of the problem nearly overwhelmed him. He'd thought marrying Shannon would solve all problems with his claim to Faith. Think, think. Larue wasn't the father type. He'd had no concern for Shannon or the girls in five years. That told him all he needed to know.