Sleepless in Montana (4 page)

While Hogan was dealing with the idea of
Carley, endangered and terrified, and Jemma’s ordering him into a
relationship with Ben, she sailed in for another hit on him. “For
Carley’s sake, to get her out of Seattle, Ben has agreed to fake a
terminal illness. He’s agreed to this because while he doesn’t know
what happened years ago, he does know she’s being stalked....
Hogan, you’re not ruining it. If Ben can give, so can you. Dinah
knew that this was no time for pride and the past, not when
Carley’s life was involved, and she asked him to help. Ben called
Carley and requested that all his family be together.”

Hogan stared at her; he withheld his need to
lash out at Jemma, his temper simmering. He pushed her finger
aside; it returned to jab at him again. “I’m in the middle of this
one, bub. You’re not shoving me away like you do Dinah and the
rest. They love you, though I don’t know why. You’re in on this
whether you like it or not. One wrong move from you, and I’ll
crucify you.”

His temper did surge, fired by her stormy
mood. He wrapped her hand in his, holding it away. “You think I’d
endanger Carley? Or hurt her?”

“She’s hurt every time you and Ben go at it.
Not the hot kind of mad, where everything is out in the open, but
the cold, slashing, bitter kind that is worse. You tear her apart,
the both of you. I’ve watched it happen for years.”

Hogan flung away her hand. “You’re not one of
the family. You don’t know what goes on.”

“Tell that to Carley or to Ben. He
appreciates me.”

“He’s got Maxi Dove, his housekeeper, to keep
him happy. She moved in—ready to give birth to Savanna— just after
Dinah moved out. Maxi has never named Savanna’s father, but then,
moving in with Ben said a lot, didn’t it?” Hogan resented the
bitterness in his tone, the way Jemma could rake it out of him.

“Will you stop growling? Ben saw Maxi as
someone in need, the way Mitch was in Chicago. He needed a
housekeeper for all of you, and she needed a refuge for her baby.
It’s worked out, and Dinah has never said one thing about their
relationship, so why should you? Dinah will do what has to be done
to protect Carley, just as the rest of us will. The police can’t
find traces of this guy and at least here, she’ll have good
protection. If there is one thing I know about Kodiak men, it’s
that they won’t let anyone harm their loved ones.”

Her eyes flashed, the color of steel, slicing
at him. “You won’t let your family down, not even Ben, if it came
down to it. I know it. You know it. So don’t try that dark stormy
look at me. You may terrify other people, but you don’t me. I know
you too well.”

Hogan fought for calm. There she was,
stabbing inside him without caution.

“Fine,” he managed tightly. “What’s being
done to find him?”

“You’re the hunter, so are your brothers. If
it started here, he’ll probably trace her back here. Then you
Sasquatches will take him out. That’s the plan. You’re hunters, and
you know what you’re doing. You’ll get that rat.”

Hogan eased onto the couch, staring at the
fire. Jemma was right. Carley’s best protection lay in her father
and brothers. Kodiaks did know how to protect their own, and in a
small rural community, an outsider would be noticed
immediately.

“What’s your part in this family
get-together? How are you going to keep Carley from suspecting
anything is wrong? Ben is hard and healthy as ever.”

Jemma flopped down at the other end of the
couch and lay back, stretching, her arms behind her head. She
placed her booted feet across his lap. “That’s the beauty, Hogan,
old buddy. I’ve worked a neat little plan. Savanna is a nurse,
she’ll help.”

“You always have a plan, if not ten.” Hogan
noted the mud bits that had crumbled onto his silk slacks. He eased
Jemma’s feet to the floor and brushed away the bits.

“Hey! I’m tired and I’ve got a hard night
ahead of me, then driving back to Big Timber and flying back to
Seattle. We’ve just got time for this little chat, and then I’m on
my way. My feet are tired.”

“Your mouth isn’t.” With a sigh, Hogan
allowed her boots to return to rest across his thighs.

“You could save money by wearing imitation
silk, not the real thing. These days polyester is really amazing,”
Jemma noted, but Hogan was frowning at the fire, thinking back to
that night—

And Carley’s terrified scream....

*** ***

Chapter Two

“Not bad
at all,” Jemma was saying as she studied the firelight dancing on
the boards of his varnished, gleaming cathedral ceiling. The
ceiling fan’s shadows circled rhythmically, breaking the firelight
patterns. Her hair ripped dark red streaks across his cream-colored
upholstery, matching Hogan’s seething anger.

Once more, Hogan saw Carley’s white face, the
terror in her silvery eyes, and realized his fingers were crushing
the cushioned arm of his couch.

“You’ve got that look, all drawn in and
dangerous.” Jemma sat up in a startling, but typically-Jemma move.
She tapped her fingers on Hogan’s Crying Woman statue and picked it
up to study it. “Not bad. I could run a gallery for you here while
I’m shooting the television pilot. You know, we could market a line
of these babies, maybe pour plaster over them or something and mass
produce them for tourist shops. I know...make candles like this.
Put some sage or wildflower scent into them.”

With a sigh, Hogan took the statue away from
her. An early piece, Crying Woman held his young whimsy and dreams;
he’d kept it to remind him of when he’d wanted a home and family of
his own. Now, he felt old and worn and restless, and he didn’t like
the hard, quick way Jemma appraised his work, calculating dollars
and profit. “What television pilot?”

She grinned at him. “That’s the beauty of it.
Carley thinks I need her support when I make my pilot effort. With
Ben’s illness going for us, one backup plan or the other will keep
Carley here, and she’s looking forward to her favorite Sasquatches
turning up. Until this is over, we’re all going to be one happy
family, like it or not.”

Hogan leveled a look at her. “You keep
forgetting that you’re not one of the family.”

Familiar with Jemma’s money-making schemes,
Hogan studied her. He’d seen her work, driving hard; he’d seen her
play men to give nothing and get everything. Jemma could be
seductive and feminine, and sometimes she played that game with his
brothers, who obviously enjoyed her teasing. Hogan didn’t. Jemma’s
agile mind almost frightened him.

“Don’t tell me. You’ve found some
hot-pants-for-brains backer for another can’t-lose project. You’re
going to make money while we’re protecting Carley. Waste not, want
not, right?”

“I just love it when you look like that, as
if waiting for a ton of bricks to fall on you and not knowing which
way to run.”

She threw out her arms, and her husky
laughter echoed in the shadowy room. “You got it. I’m going to be
‘Fly Fisher Woman.’ If this works out, I’ll be peddling a weekly
television segment on Montana fly-fishing. You know, teach women
how to do it. Who knows? Maybe I can set up vacation fly-fishing
schools, get my name on rods and reels? How’d you like that idea,
Jemma’s Rods and Reels?”

Hogan closed his eyes for a moment. For a
moment, he almost felt dizzy. He reached for his glass of wine and
quickly took a sip.

Her eyes gleamed at him as she shot out her
hands. “I could develop a whole resort idea off this. Health
retreats, meditation, couple getaways...”

Hogan stared at her. Jemma always could stop
his thoughts. When they started to move again, he tried for a calm
tone and realized it came out strangled. “Unless you’ve changed,
you’ve never liked the outdoors. When did you learn how to fly
fish?”

“Phooey, smooey. I never have. I’ve never
known how to do most of the things I’ve done, including working on
a trawler off the coast, or shucking oysters. But all of you
Kodiaks know how to fish just great. I’ve got until July to learn.
Les doesn’t want to get caught in a freak snowstorm, and I’ve
promised him beautiful weather. I remember watching all of you
while I was lying on the bank reading fashion magazines.”

When she looked at him and blinked her
lashes, a cold chill ran up Hogan’s back. Jemma always had that
look when she was playing someone.

“You were the best,” she said, “or at least a
close second to Ben. I don’t want him mad at me— he’s got that thin
Kodiak patience— so you’re the logical choice. Mitch and Aaron are
likely to lose it too quick. You’ve always been the coolest of the
lot, though you’ve lost it once or twice with me. You get to teach
me, bud.”

Hogan almost choked again; he had just sipped
wine to steady his nerves. The idea of Jemma slinging a fly rod,
line, and hooks around his head gave him the chills. “Not a
chance.”

“I want to be here for Carley, Hogan,” Jemma
said softly. “I can’t afford to take time away from work—”

He eyed Jemma. She’d never failed to slash
through the easy, planned rhythms of his life. “You should have
that first million by now, the way you’re going. What are you doing
anyway? The last time I heard you were a radio sports
announcer.”

“Gave that one up. They wanted to tie me down
with five-year exclusive contracts, that sort of thing. I’m not
going exclusive for anyone but myself. Sold limousines for a time,
but I made a bundle. I’m into stocks and trading— Aaron helped me
get started. By the way, I’d like to check my latest investments
and see how they’re doing on your land-line computer. My cell isn’t
receiving out here.”

“Fine. Do what you want. You will anyway,”
Hogan said, leaning his head back to study the fan and firelight
shadows upon the ceiling. Jemma’s mind could roll in twenty
directions at once; his was still prowling through the past and
Carley’s attack—
who was her attacker?

Whoever he was had to know about the local
Celestial Virgin story, or knew someone who lived in the area. He
had to know where Carley was that night—

Jemma bounced to her feet and headed toward
his office. After staring into the fire, hating Carley’s attacker,
and wondering how he could manage a relationship with Ben, even a
short-term one, Hogan sighed and went to find Jemma.

She was busily punching keys on his computer.
“I knew that investment in Slinky Lace would pay off. Working women
don’t like to wear plain cotton bras anymore. Slinky Lace moved
into the large women’s sizes, added more support and their promo is
great. Plus-size women love the boy-leg cut... doesn’t ride up
either. Yeah! I’ve tripled my investment since this morning.”

She stood and stretched, arms over her head,
revealing a smooth expanse of creamy stomach.

Hogan’s throat dried. He looked away, stunned
by his impulse to flatten his dark hand upon that pale skin, to
feel the curved form move and arc beneath his touch. The line was
perfect, feminine, and soft, a visual reminder that a woman’s body
could hold life and nurture— He inhaled her feminine scent and
frowned.
He didn’t want to enjoy any part of Jemma and her
computer-for-profit brain.

Jemma looked at him. “Mitch and Aaron can be
trusted to make things run smoothly. I came here early to get your
promise that you won’t cause trouble with Ben. They still love each
other, you know.”

“Dinah married another man. That doesn’t
sound like love.”

“It wasn’t love. It was companionship. Joseph
helped set her up in the temporary work business. She kept the
Kodiak name, not Joseph Merrick’s last name. Joseph gave her warmth
and protection when she needed it. She gave him the family he’d
always wanted. He made certain that Carley and Aaron knew who their
father was, and that they kept their Kodiak names as well. It was a
fair exchange that suited them both for a time.”

Jemma pushed her hand through her hair,
studied Hogan, then touched his cheek. She smiled when he jerked
away from her light touch. “You look so much like Ben.”

“Aaron looks like Ben. Old Jedidiah, Ben’s
grandfather, and Aaron, Ben’s father, all have that same blunt,
hard look— wide forehead, deep-set eyes, broad high cheekbones, an
ordinary blunt nose, a hard line for a mouth, and a jaw that could
cut granite.”

“What a description. Those are your
ancestors, too, Hogan. Jedidiah was your great-grandfather and old
Aaron was your grandfather. Aaron has wavy blond hair and is
blue-eyed. But you are a reflection of Ben in every way, and he
knows it. Maybe that’s why you can’t get along, because he resents
himself as a younger man. That senseless macho old dog, new dog
stuff. Do you ever wonder how beautiful life would have been if he
hadn’t lost that leg?”

“Skip the psychology. Ben never wanted me,
the bastard son.” The words were bitter on his tongue. Life hadn’t
been beautiful for Hogan; his earliest memories were those of
trying to please a man who treated him coldly.

“Still feeling sorry for yourself, aren’t
you? Aaron and Carley saw you as their protector, the big brother
they could depend on. When they came back to visit, it was you who
protected them, made certain they stayed. You were there,
supporting them, when they would have run back to Dinah and Seattle
the first time Ben lit into them for saddling a horse wrong. You
were almost as much of a parent as he, telling them stories about
Montana, making them love the ranch and country life. You were the
one who gave him the idea to get Mitch involved with dogs and
calves. I know who spent time with Carley, explaining that sex
wasn’t dirty—”

She smiled impishly, confirming Hogan’s
suspicions that she had tormented Ben in the early years by asking
questions about sex. “Ben jumps and looks hounded when the subject
is brought up.”