Lonestar Secrets

  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.

  He could yell at Shannon, but it wouldn't accomplish anything. He focused his gaze on her and saw trembling lips and tear-filled eyes. Her tears washed away the last of his anger.

  "He doesn't want contact," Jack said in a firm voice, though his knees wobbled.

  "What do you mean?" Shannon choked out. "You heard what he said."

  Jack took out his handkerchief and handed it to Shannon. "It's all bluff. He wants money."

  "Money?" she echoed. She dabbed the tears pooling in her eyes with his hankie.

  "Sure. He knows we'll do anything to keep the girls safe and happy. He's a shark moving in for the kill."

  She managed a watery smile. "You really think so?" A faint hope gleamed in her eyes.

  "He figures we'll pay him off and he'll be home free." Jack intended to pay up without a murmur. "How much do you think I should offer him?" It galled him to think of caving, but he didn't want the girls ever to know this slimeball was their father.

  Her eyes widened. "You're going to pay him?"

  "You got a better idea? The adoptions aren't final yet."

  Her hands were shaking when she gave him back his handkerchief. "Maybe five thousand dollars?"

  Jack snorted. "He'll want more than that. A lot more."

  She stepped closer and took his hand. Her fingers curled tightly around his. "What if I give him this ranch? I don't want you paying. I hate this place anyway."

  Jack returned the pressure of her hand. "It would mean he'd be in the area trying to sell it. I wouldn't want us to run into him when we had the girls."

  "I wouldn't either." She bit her lip. "You didn't sign up for this, Jack."

  He caught her gaze and saw the anguish there, but it had to be said. "It would have been a lot easier to handle if I'd been prepared. You should have told me the truth when I asked, Shannon."

  She dropped her gaze to the ground. "I thought I had time. I was afraid it would just inflame the rivalry between the two of you. Besides, I didn't want you to know what a fool I was. He showered me with attention back then. He seemed dashing, exciting. A rodeo rider has a certain mystique. I was such a fool."

  "You were young. I would have understood that, but what I don't understand is your secrets. Every time I turn around, I run into another one.

  Her gaze sought his. "I'm just now learning to trust you," she said in a barely audible voice. "You forget how you've broken my trust in the past, Jack. It's been hard to get past that. You've got to give me some time." Her gaze drifted past his shoulder, and her eyes widened. "Jewel," she breathed.

  He turned to see the old stallion come loping over the desert. Shannon called to him, and his ears flickered as he broke into a gallop.

  Shannon ran to meet the horse, and Jack watched Jewel approach with a trust that spoke volumes to him about this woman he'd married. She was crazy about her daughters. She'd go to any lengths for an animal without regard for herself. She'd worked tirelessly to provide a better life for Kylie.

  But Shannon gave nothing of herself to him.

  21

  SHANNON FLUNG HER ARMS AROUND JEWEL'S NECK AND BREATHED IN THE scent of horse and sage. She ran her hand down his twitching flank. "Jewel, I've missed you. Where have you been hiding out?"

  The horse snorted and nibbled on her hair. Shannon vaulted onto his back, and he turned and cantered across the desert. Crouching low over his neck, she clung to his mane as the wind whipped through her hair. Surefooted as ever, the stallion's hooves flew over the rough ground as woman and horse became one beast.

  On the back of her old friend and feeling the wind in her hair,
Shannon felt her shame melt away. He'd been her only friend in the dark days, and even now as her tears soaked into his coat, his great heart poured out healing. She'd messed up with Jack time and again. If only she knew how to lower her guard and trust him not to hurt her.

  "Jewel, you're too old for this kind of exercise," she said, running her hand over jewel's damp neck. In the distance she could see Jack walking out to meet them as they returned to the old ranch. Sunlight glinted on the rocks and graphite along the ground, sparkling like tiny diamonds.

  Jewel's head came up at Jack's approach. "It's okay. He's a friend." Shannon patted the mustang's neck again, and his rapid breathing slowed.

  "He's quite a horse," Jack said, nearing them.

  Shannon pressed her knees into jewel's belly, and he stopped. His eyes rolled at Jack's nearness.

  "I've never seen a melding of woman and horse like that," Jack said. "You should be the one training the mustangs instead of watching the rest of us do it."

  Shannon slid from her mount's back. "Isn't he something?" She rubbed jewel's nose.

  "So was his rider." Jack's gaze lingered on her. "You were like some mythical creature racing across the desert. I could have watched you for hours."

  Heat radiated from Shannon's cheeks. "It's all jewel." She dropped her hand from the horse's neck, and he snorted, then withdrew. He turned for one last glance at her, then his hooves kicked up sand and he raced away to the hills.

  "He'll be back," Jack said near her ear.

  "I know." But she strained to catch one last glimpse of the stallion.

  Jack tucked a strand of hair out of her eyes. Shannon suddenly realized how closely he stood. Close enough for her to catch the scent of his cologne, to smell the hint of mint on his breath, to catch a whiff of the fabric softener on his shirt.

  Her mouth went dry at his nearness. Her gaze locked with his, and she saw a new awareness of her in his eyes. The realization that he was beginning to find her attractive made her pulse race faster than the canter with jewel.

  "Shannon, I need to know everything hiding under that beautiful face. Are there any other secrets you want to spill now?"

  Shannon fell into his green eyes and nearly opened her mouth to tell him about her illness, but her throat convulsed. She should have told him before he married her given him an opportunity to back out before being saddled with a sick wife. He'd have to know sooner or later, but she couldn't tell him when he was staring at her with that intense expression.

  He made a slight movement as though to lower his head, and she waited for it. Her disappointment was keen when he stepped back. Maybe it was just as well. A kiss would mean nothing to a man like him, but everything to a woman like her.

  "There is one thing I can tell you," she said, offering him the only thing she could right now. "I know where the Spanish artifacts are located."

  "Just like you know the cause of the Marfa lights, right?" He grinned and tweaked her nose.

  "No, really, Jack. I'm serious. My father found them. They're in the cave, sealed up with the bodies of my parents." She knew he understood the magnitude of what she'd said when his smile slackened then warmed again.

  "You're serious?" he asked.

  "No one knows but me. And now you."

  "You said you didn't want their bodies disturbed. How do you know I won't go looking for that treasure? Every guy has a little bit of Indiana Jones in him."

  "I ... I trust you, Jack." But not enough to tell you I have MS. That revelation had to wait until they weren't standing in the blazing sun in front of a dilapidated old house. Maybe one night this week after dinner when the kids were in bed. She turned toward the house. "I guess we'd better get inside and find those papers Curt needs."

  He led the way. "You could have let him look for them."

  "Curt's afraid of bats. We've had several in the attic, and I think that's where Uncle Earl put the box he's looking for." She dug the extra key out of her pocket when they stepped onto the porch.

  "Here, let me," Jack said when she had trouble fitting the key into the lock. He took the key from her fingers and fiddled with it until it clicked, and the door swung open. With obvious reluctance, he dropped his hand and let her move forward. He stepped around her. "Let me look inside first."

  Before she could protest, he leaped up the steps and disappeared through the doorway. She hurried after him.

  "I can handle this," he said. "Tell me what to look for. You can wait out on the porch."

  "We'll go up together." She shut the door behind them and locked it. She put her hand on the banister and began to climb the steps.

  Jack followed her to the hallway on the second floor. "Where's the attic access?"

  "There." She pointed to a door at the end of the hallway.

  He got to it first and tugged it open. Stale, dank air made her cough. Dust motes swirled in the entry to the steps. Darkness shrouded the steep stairs. He groped for a light switch and found it halfway up the steps. Weak yellow light showed spiderwebs barring the way. "Got a broom?"

  "There's one in the closet. Hang on." She went down the hall to a door at the other end, then returned with a broom in hand. She'd grabbed the tennis racquet they kept in the hall closet as well. "Here you go," she said handing him the broom. The bats she could handle with the racquet.

  He took the broom and knocked the spiderwebs down. The tough webs resisted the broom at first, and he stepped back as a fat spider ran toward his boot.

  Shannon watched him squash it and shuddered. She grimaced. "I hate black widows."

  "They love anyplace where people don't go." He brandished the broom like a weapon and started up the stairs.

  There were no more spiderwebs until they stepped onto the wide floorboards. Glancing around, she saw more webs with the characteristic erratic appearance, as though the spider were drunk, but they were high overhead and unlikely to be a bother.

  "There are probably brown recluse up here, too, so watch where you put your hands," Jack said.

  Shannon skirted the webs on her way to the chests in the center of the room. She reached the first one and leaned down to open it.

  "Let me check it first." Jack unlatched the chest and lifted the lid. Papers and books were stacked inside, and the dry odor of decaying paper rose to greet them. "Looks clear," he said.

  "The lids are tight fitting," Shannon said. She knelt and began to lift the items out one by one.

  "Do we know what we're looking for?"

  "Some kind of photo album, Curt said."

  "What's so important about it?"

  Shannon shrugged. "I guess he has some fond memories of his dad, even though they didn't get along. Maybe he has regrets." She stood and dusted her hands. "It's not in here."

  "Maybe the other one." He pointed at another chest under the eaves. "Let me pull it out. It's certain to have spiders on the back of it."

  Shannon stepped back and let him swipe behind the chest. He hauled it away from the eaves. He squashed more spiders.

  "The sooner we get down from here the better. This place is badly infested," he said with his mouth twisted.

  Shannon shuddered. "I'm ready to go as soon as I look in there."

  He threw open the chest. "It's empty." He glanced around at the mismatched furniture mostly chairs and a broken table or two. "Should we start on the boxes?"

  Shannon clasped herself. "No, I'm getting out of here. If he wants the pictures that badly, he can come look for them himself." She bolted toward the steps. Her skin crawled from being up here.

  Jack followed behind her and she heard him stop. She turned at the top of the stairs to see him staring at a small chest at the far end of the attic. He strode to the wooden box, brushed it with the broom, and opened it.

  "What's inside?" She forced herself to walk the few steps to join him. Several photo albums and account books were inside.

  "This what you're looking for?" he asked, lifting the photo albums.

  She nodded. "I think so
. Can you bring it down?" She led the way down the steps and didn't do a very good job of disguising her limp.

  Jack followed her to the first floor with his burden. He dropped it onto the sofa and dusted his hands. "You're limping again. We need to have you looked at."

  "When did you become a doctor?" She smiled to mask her fear. How would she tell him about her MS? She walked outside and moved toward her horse, and the wind shifted. The sharp tang of smoke came to her nose, and she squinted into the darkness and saw a glow in the west. "Fire!" She pointed out the blaze against the night sky.

  "I'll call Rick and have him get some help." He grabbed his cell phone, punched in the numbers and explained the situation in terse words, then shut it. "Any shovels in the barn?"

  She nodded. "I'll show you." They both ran toward the outbuildings, and she led him to the rack of tools on the wall just inside the door. They grabbed as many shovels and hoes as they could, then mounted their horses and headed across the desert in the direction of the blaze.

  "It's where jewel usually roams," Shannon said, her voice tight and strained. "He has to be all right."

  She was right. Jack urged his horse to a gallop. They were the first to arrive at the blaze. A line of fire raced across the tinder-dry vegetation. The blaze advanced toward a small valley hemmed in at the back by steep desert mountains. He caught a glimmer of movement and stared through the gloom.

  "He's there!" Shannon said, pointing in the direction he'd seen movement.

  Then Jack saw Jewel. Mustangs as well. They tossed their heads, and he heard one scream with terror as the fire advanced into the valley. A few more minutes and they'd be trapped. "This way!" he shouted, pointing to an opening in the wall of flames.

  Devil reared and snorted, and Jack knew he'd never get him through that opening with the cinders whirling all around them. He dismounted. "Come on!" he told Shannon. "Follow me."