A slow burn started in his belly. "Some days you make me feel about as welcome in your life as a skunk at a dinner party." He stepped closer until she backed up against the side of the mess hall. He was tired of denying the emotion simmering between them. He cupped her cheek in his palm, then pulled her into his arms. She didn't resist. His mouth came down on hers, and a current seemed to flow through them both, binding them together. Her lips were soft and pliable and she smelled sweeter than a field of bluebells. Her arms crept around his neck. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
Catcalls from behind brought him out of the trance. He tore himself away. Her eyes were dreamy, and she blinked. A bemused smile tugged at her mouth, a smile he answered with one of his own.
"This ain't your bedroom," a cowboy called. "Time to get to work."
Jack didn't turn. He was drowning in those amazing eyes. "If you need to go somewhere, don't go alone. Call me on your cell phone and I'll come with you." Lame comment, but it was easier than talking about what had just happened.
She caught her lower lip in her teeth and cleared her throat. "My cell goes dead for no reason," she said. "I might not be able to get you."
"At least try."
She nodded but with obvious reluctance. "It's not easy for me to depend on anyone but myself."
"You need to learn. We're a partnership. What would happen to the girls if that guy killed you?" He wanted to pull her back into his arms but resisted.
"He won't kill me. He wants his money. I only wish I could give it to him and make him free Mary Beth."
"He might come after you for the fun of it." The thought made him wince.
She smiled. "Listen to yourself, Jack. This isn't some shoot-'em- up movie." She waved a hand. "I'll just get this chip out and be done with it."
"You don't believe that," he said. "It's okay to share your worry with someone. You don't have to carry your problems alone. I want to help."
She glanced back at him then, her eyes darkened to indigo. "I'm more afraid of you than of the guy who's threatening me."
"Is this the same woman who just told me she wanted a husband?"
"I didn't say that. Not exactly." She pulled her hair forward, twisting a lock of it in her fingers. She stared at him. "I have to say you're a good kisser."
"I'm not sure you've had much experience to compare," he said dryly, though his pulse galloped at her words. He'd like to practice that again.
Pink stained her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze.
Why was he trying to convince her to depend on him? He'd gone into the marriage with the idea that they would be two people living in the same house for the sake of the girls. He'd never intended that they'd have any real partnership, but he found it intriguing to imagine getting under that beautiful skin to understand her better.
SHANNON FOUND HERSELF THINKING ABOUT THAT KISS AT ODD TIMES DURING the day. Every now and then, she found herself touching her lips and remembering the minty scent of his breath.
When the sun was high overhead, she trotted across an open field to the mess hall. Now that she had a free minute, she was going to try to get hold of Mary Beth again. Yesterday's call had reassured her that her friend was alive, but there was so much she didn't understand. She propped her boot on the lower rung of a fence and got out her cell phone. Drat, the thing was dead again.
A familiar long-legged lope caught her gaze. She squinted in the bright sunshine at the man coming toward her. "Curt, I thought you'd be long gone by now. What are you doing here?"
Her cousin wore an easy grin under his cowboy hat, a genuine Stetson Beaver. The hat covered his blond hair, but his blue eyes were as vivid as Shannon's own. "I went home and came back this morning"
Shannon fell into step with him and they walked toward the building "Did you find what you were looking for at the ranch?"
"Nope. Not a sign of it, but I got to thinking about Dad's picture albums. I know everything belongs to you, but I'd like to have them if you don't mind."
"Of course you can have them! I wish you'd take half the property. It rightfully belongs to you."
Curt shrugged. "I don't need the money. My business is almost more than I can handle. I told Dad if he left it to me, I'd just sell it. I think he saw leaving it to you as a possible way of keeping it in the family."
Sometimes she thought his bravado was all show, but as she stared at his expensive clothing and caught a peek at his brand new SUV, today wasn't one of those times. He probably was doing every bit as well as he said. She didn't need to dwell on the guilt that plagued her.
"You know where the albums are? I'll stop by the house and get them."
She tried to remember, then shook her head. "I haven't seen them anywhere, but they might be in the attic. There used to be several chests up there, and Uncle Earl squirreled away stuff up there all the time."
Curt grimaced. "There might be bats up there."
Her cousin hated bats. He'd gotten one in his hair once and had run screaming like a girl. "Probably are," she said. "They get in that hole in the west end of the attic. Want me to get them for you?"
"Shannon, girl adventurer," Curt said, his grin widening. "You sure you don't mind?"
"I'll take a tennis racquet up with me."
He shuddered. "Better you than me. I don't know how you stand the things. When should I stop by to get them?"
"It will be this weekend before I have a chance to go. The trainers give the horses a rest on Saturday and Sunday."
"Want me to go with you? The sheriff talked to me about the break-ins out there. Guess he thought I might have had something to do with them. I told him the ranch was good riddance as far as I was concerned."
"Me too," Shannon said. "I was going to live there because I had no choice, but it's in terrible shape."
Curt studied her face. "You happy, Shannon? The marriage working out?"
She'd bet no one dared ask Jack these questions. "I'm happy," she said. "Jack is a good man."
"How long have you known him?"
Her laugh sounded shrill to her ears. "What is this, twenty questions? Since when did you care about my love life, Curt?"
He shrugged. "Seems odd, that's all. A big shot like Jack MacGowan marrying a . . .
She knew what her uncle and Curt thought of her. "A what? An unwed mother? A slut who doesn't deserve him? A crazy woman the whole town whispered about?"
The tips of his ears reddened. "That's not what I said."
"But it's what you thought." She squared her shoulders and faced him down. Would she never live down her reputation? One mistake and the town had marked her as poor white trash. She saw the expression in people's eyes at the grocery store, at the hardware store. Until they remembered she was the vet now. Then they pasted on a smile. People in small towns had a long memory and they all knew her entire history.
Curt's lips tightened and he shook his finger in her face. "Don't put words in my mouth. I'm glad you managed to overcome your past. You came out smelling like a rose, that's for sure." He flicked a finger toward Jack, who was working his mustang in the corral. "The wealthiest man in the area."
"I'm most proud of making it on my own," Shannon said quietly. "I put myself through college and vet school and came here to start my own practice. I didn't need a man to validate my accomplishments."
"Then why'd you marry him?"
Shannon glanced over at Jack. He still didn't know about her MS. Would he have married her if she'd revealed her illness? "It's complicated," she said.
"He has a daughter, right? From a previous marriage? I hope you didn't bite off more than you can chew."
She could have told him Faith was her daughter. She could have told him her fears about the future. She might even have explained that Jack had loomed as an important person to her since she was a teenager, but in the end, she shrugged. "For the same reasons anyone gets married. What about you? Any little woman in your future?"
"Not likely. Women just want a guy's money."
br /> Had Jack thought that about her? Shannon hated the thought he might consider her a gold digger.
JACK'S MOUTH WAS AS DRY AS SAND, AND HIS MUSCLES ACHED. A GOOD kind of ache though, one born of hard work and determination. Friday afternoon he looped his rope over his shoulder and walked toward the mess hall. His stomach rumbled, but he was more interested in swilling a bottle of cold water.
A man fell into step beside him. "Got a minute, Mr. MacGowan?"
Jack recognized him as the reporter for a news channel in San Antonio. "Sure." The more publicity the event drew, the more mustangs would find adoptive homes.
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.