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."
"You don't want to believe it because it might mean your father was the one who hurt him."
She stood and went to the door. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. "You didn't know my father. He never would have hurt a horse."
"Everyone has secrets. We don't know what this is all about, but sticking your head in the sand won't get us closer to the truth."
Faith yawned and rubbed her eyes.
"Ready for bed, baby girl?" he asked. She nodded and he scooped her up.
Shannon didn't have the energy to move as the sound of his steps faded. Could her father have stolen a horse? True, she didn't want to believe it. If he had, it was to save jewel, not hurt him. She was sure of that much.
MONDAY MORNING, WITH THE WEEK'S WORK AHEAD OF HIM, JACK STOOD talking to Buzz. "When you going on your honeymoon?" Buzz asked with a wink.
Never. Jack bit back the word. It wouldn't do to air their situation to the world. "Maybe when the mustang breaking is over." Now that he'd said it, he realized a vacation might ease the tension in the house. Since Wednesday night, when Shannon suggested they work on making a real marriage, he'd been unable to think of much else. When he watched her sleep with her hair loose on her shoulders, she'd been the most tempting thing he'd seen in months. It had been all he could do to resist her.
He'd never been one to rush into anything. This hurried marriage was bad enough, but if he made a move he'd regret later, he'd think back to this time and wish he'd thought out his actions. So he was going to do that take the time to ferret out what was best. The conflict they'd had over the fate of the horse muddied the waters even more.
Questions lurked in Buzz's
eyes, but Jack didn't intend to answer them. He was fooling himself if he thought the town hadn't guessed the reason for the marriage. One look at the two girls should have laid everything open.
Tucker Larue swaggered up before Buzz said anything more. His bullwhip secured to his belt and his mustache waxed to a fine curl, Larue didn't appear to have worked up a sweat with his horses today. Jack had managed to avoid the man for a week, but his luck couldn't hold on forever.
When Larue saw Jack and Buzz, he stopped and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "My stallion is already ground broke, MacGowan. Looks like you're losing this round."
"Got a saddle on him yet, Larue?" Jack couldn't help the taunt. At least Dancer let him drop a saddle on her back. He hadn't managed to stay on her yet, but she was progressing.
Larue gave a slow smile. "I think your bridle slipped off your little filly. I saw her smiling and batting those baby blues at a couple of cowboys today."
Jack lifted his brows. He knew Larue was talking about Shannon. "I bet you weren't one of them." He nearly grinned when Larue's face darkened and the man stalked away.
He was going to have to make sure Shannon knew not to give the wrong impression here. Cowboys were quick to respond to a pretty face and a flirtatious smile. Or even a smile that wasn't flirty. He waved to Buzz, then went to his truck. Shannon was standing by the passenger door, waiting. Her blond hair tied back in a ponytail, she appeared younger than he knew her to be.
He slid under the wheel and waited until she'd settled on her side of the truck. "Larue seemed to think you were flirting today." He nearly winced. That hadn't come out the way he intended. Even he could hear the accusation in the words.
She glared at him, her gaze a blue laser. "I didn't say two words to Tucker," she said. "I told you I'm not interested in other men. Besides, why would you care if I was? You haven't said a thing to me for the past two days! I come home. Play with the girls. I try to help with supper, but Enrica won't let me. You stare at your plate all through the meal, then vanish to your office until time to put the girls to bed. I feel like a pariah or something. I don't have a real place in the family. I'm like a poor cousin you've taken in."
She rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry, I sound like a fishwife," she muttered.
"I don't know what to talk about," he mumbled. He focused on the road. He couldn't begin to explain how his attraction to her the other night had put him on his guard. He couldn't let her creep into his heart unless he was sure he wanted her there.
"The kids notice the tension between us. We have to at least try to be friendly, even if we're not friends. And just for the record, I don't flirt. Not ever."
You did the other night. The thought made him grip the steering wheel and stare at the road. He didn't want to remember the way she'd looked or how long it had taken him to get to sleep in his empty bed.
She turned her head and stared out the window. He glanced over at the smooth curve of her jaw and the long line of her neck. "I didn't mean to accuse you. I was repeating what Larue said," he said.
"Larue is an annoyance, nothing more." She still wouldn't look at him.
Silence stretched out along with the road for the next five miles. He reached the driveway and turned into it. "What do you want me to do?"
She turned to catch his gaze then. Her mouth drooped. "You sound like you think I'm going to ask something hard. I'd just like a little courtesy. Normal dinner conversation. Addressing me once in a while instead of the girls when we're playing games at night. I feel a little left out. And you still haven't told Faith I'm her real mother, have you? It's been over two weeks."
He couldn't stop the frown that sprang to his face. "I'm waiting for the right time."
Shannon rubbed her head. "I love her dearly, Jack. I want her to know she has a real sister, a mother who loves her. Blair has been dead for over a year. Faith needs me in her life, all of me, her mother. And her sister, her twin."
His fingers tightened on the wheel. "Blair was her mother!"
She flinched, and there was moisture hanging on her lashes when she looked at him. "There's room for both of us, Jack. I don't want to take away her love for Blair, but it's not my fault she was stolen from me." Her voice broke. "I know it's not your fault either, but please don't shut me out of her life because of your loyalty to Blair. I think she'd want Faith to have my love too." She shook her head and broke eye contact with him. "I have five years of lost time to make up. You have to tell her, Jack. It's the right thing to do."
He parked by the garage and got out without saying another word. Stalking to the house, he wondered why he'd ever thought this would work. She had him trapped. Legally, she was his wife. A court battle would prove she was Faith's mother.
But why did it feel so wrong? Telling Faith that Shannon was her mother would be letting go of the last bit of Blair. He had nothing left of her now. Not even a child they'd made together. And to think of putting anyone in Blair's place still pained him.
He bounded up the stairs and rushed through the door to his office. He found Enrica dusting his desk. The faint odor of lemon wax hung in the air.
Her head came up when he barged through the door. "You mad, Mr. Jack?"
He sank onto his chair. "I don't know what to do, Enrica. Shannon wants me to tell Faith she's her real mother." He snatched the picture of Blair off his desk. "I can't do it."
Enrica rubbed the gleaming surface of the desk without saying anything for a long minute. "Miss Blair. She not perfect." Enrica nodded to the picture. "She no saint. You forget the fights sometimes, Mr. Jack."
"We never fought," he protested.
Enrica smiled and picked up a vase from the bookcase behind her. "Miss Blair throw this at you. I fix. See crack here?"
Transfixed, he stared at it. He remembered that argument. She'd wanted new drapes for the living room and he hadn't wanted to spend the money or deal with the mess. With the door cracked open, he remembered other fights about Faith's bedtime, which movie to see, where to go to dinner. Blair had liked things her own way. She liked being the big man's wife, having the best of everything, making a splash in town and getting her picture in the paper.
She wasn't a saint. And neither was he.
Maybe he'd put her on a pedestal after her death. She would be horrified if she knew it. He put his head in his hands. It was about time he faced the truth and tried to make things better for the family he had left. What Shannon wanted was her right. And Faith's.
THE GLAZED DISHES, DEEP ORANGE AND GOLD, REFLECTED HER SCOWL. Shannon placed the plates on the table and went to get the silverware. Her hands needed to be busy so she didn't throw something. Jack was never going to tell Faith the truth.
"Miss Shannon, you should not work." Enrica snatched the silverware box from her hand. "This my job."
"I like to do it," Shannon protested. She tried to get the box back, but Enrica turned and moved to the dining room. Shannon sometimes wondered if she'd ever be more than an outsider here. She wasn't trying to take Enrica's job, but she wanted to be part of the family. Someone who did more than occupy a room upstairs.
"Will Faith be home from her grandparents' in time for supper?" she asked.
"Si." Enrica's gaze shot to Shannon. "Miss Faith's abuela fears you take Miss Blair's place."
Shannon gaped at the housekeeper. "I've never even met the woman.
Enrica nodded. "When she come to pick up the nina, she ask many questions. I see fear in her eyes."
Shannon hadn't given much thought to Blair's parents. Of course they would want to keep their daughter's memory alive. Of course they would resent the woman who took Blair's place. They hadn't come to the wedding, and neither she nor Jack had expected them to show. She needed to make more of an effort to assure them she intended to help Faith hold on to the memory of her mother.
"They are here now," Enrica said at the sound of an engine outside.
"I'll go get her," Shannon said. She stepped out onto the porch and stood by a w
hite pillar. A woman dressed in black slacks and a black silk blouse got out of the white Lexus. She got Faith out of the backseat, and Shannon caught a glimpse of a man at the steering wheel. Faith held the woman's hand and chattered all the way up the brick walk. Her focus never left the woman's face, and as they neared, Shannon understood. If Blair had lived, she would have been a copy of this woman in her fifties.
Shannon stepped down the steps. "Hello, I'm Shannon." She held her hand out to the woman, who took it with obvious reluctance. "You must be Mrs. Stickman."
Mrs. Stickman released Shannon's fingers after the merest touch. "Yes. We've had a fine time, haven't we, Faith?"
"I want to stay with you, Grammy," Faith said, her voice full of tears. She hung on to her grandmother's hand.
"Kylie has been counting the minutes until you got back," Shannon said.
Mrs. Stickman's eyes held sorrow. "Thank you for being so good to Faith," she said. "You can't always count on that with a stepmother."
Maybe she'd never seen Kylie and had no idea of the reality of the relationship, so Shannon held her tongue. But no, surely she knew. Verna was her sister.
The door behind her flew open and Kylie burst onto the porch. "Faith, you've been gone forever!"
Mrs. Stickman gaped at Kylie, then stared back at her granddaughter. She blinked at the moisture in her eyes. "I didn't believe Verna when she told me," she said quietly as Faith darted up the steps to Kylie and the two went hand in hand into the house. "Have you told Faith?"
"Not yet." Shannon met her gaze. "And I'll do all I can to make sure Faith treasures her memories of Blair. Her sweet spirit is a tribute to her ... her mother."
Mrs. Stickman dabbed at her eyes. "Thank you. I don't know what to say. I'm just thankful Blair never had to deal with this. Faith was her whole world. As she is mine. I hope you'll never prevent her from seeing us.
"Of course not! Grandparents are so important to a child's life. Kylie has none."