Wrangled Page 12

  At the thought of her diary, she cringed inwardly. It embarrassed her that her sister, and who knew who else, had read about her longing. No doubt the reason it still embarrassed her was because that longing had never gone away.

  Zane was the reason she hadn’t gone through with her engagement. She’d felt as if there was something missing with her fiancé. Dakota had hated breaking it off, telling herself she was making a huge mistake still being in love with a fantasy cowboy.

  But the truth was, Zane had corralled her heart and held it captive all these years.

  In a flash of lightning that lit the bedroom, Zane opened his eyes. He smiled at her. “Nice shirt,” he said.

  Raindrops struck the partially open window next to them. Dakota felt the cool breeze rush over her bare skin as she brushed her lips over his, then pulled back a little to look at him. He seemed to be waiting to see how far she would go.

  She shifted against Zane, feeling her aching nipples grow even harder beneath his T-shirt as she reached for the hem. Pulling his T-shirt up and over her head, she tossed it away.

  He grinned. “You are insatiable.”

  She nodded as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her naked breasts to his hard chest.

  His hands came around her waist and drew her into him until not even the cool breeze of the rainstorm could come between them. As his mouth dropped to hers, thunder boomed again as loud as the pounding of their hearts in the old ranch house.

  * * *

  “MRS. CROWLEY!” THE words flew from Emma’s mouth with obvious surprise.

  “Whatever are you doing standing out in the rain?” the woman demanded from beneath the umbrella she held.

  Emma had been so careful the other time. Now she’d been caught red-handed. “The thunder and lightning. It woke me up.”

  Mrs. Crowley was giving her a sideways look that said, “And that explains your behavior how?”

  “I woke up, couldn’t sleep and wandered out on the porch. I thought I saw the dome light on in the pickup,” Emma said. It was the only thing she could think of since she was pretty sure Mrs. Crowley had seen her in the truck.

  “Really? Do you have trouble sleeping often?”

  “Must have been the thunder,” Emma said.

  Mrs. Crowley glanced toward the pickup. “The dome light must have a short in it. I noticed it wasn’t working the other night.”

  So she had noticed. Of course she had, Emma thought. The woman never missed anything.

  “I’ll have Hoyt take a look at it,” Emma said.

  “Don’t bother. It’s off now. Let’s just leave it that way.” Mrs. Crowley gave her one of her twisted half smiles. “You really should get in out of the rain.”

  With that the woman turned and went back inside.

  Emma stood for a moment, staring after her before she turned her face up to the rain. It felt good as she walked back to the front porch before entering the house.

  Inside, she locked the door. Even as she did so she wondered what she was locking inside her house.

  She shuddered at the memory of looking up to find Mrs. Crowley standing in front of her. Why did that poor woman scare her so?

  Well, she’d never admit it. Especially to Hoyt.

  Eleven miles, she thought as she went to the guest bathroom and dried herself off with a towel. Hoyt’s robe was soaked. She hung it up.

  Her nightgown was damp. She would change it upstairs.

  As she headed upstairs, she mulled it over in her mind. Eleven miles round-trip. Where would that take you on the ranch?

  Upset with herself, she knew she really wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Retracing her steps, she went into the living room, turned on a lamp and picked up the murder mystery she’d been reading.

  She was through spying on the poor woman, she told herself as she wrote down the mileage in the back of the book and wondered again where an eleven-mile round-trip would take a person on the Chisholm ranch.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING THE STORM had passed. A brilliant glowing sun shone in the window from a sky of cloudless blue. Zane stirred to find the bed beside him empty. For one heart-stopping moment, he thought Dakota was gone.

  Then he smelled bacon and heard the faint sound of music coming from his radio in the kitchen. He smiled and tried to still his pounding heart. Last night had been incredible. What surprised him was that it hadn’t been like this with other women he’d known. He knew it sounded clichéd, but with Dakota it hadn’t been just sex.

  As he lay in the bed, it hit him like a boulder off a cliff. He loved her.

  He’d never said the L word to any woman because he’d never loved any of them. For a few moments, he was shocked. But he realized this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment emotion. This had been coming for a long time.

  Pulling on his jeans, he looked around for his T-shirt. Not seeing it, he grinned. He had a pretty good idea where he could find it.

  Sure enough, as he stepped through the kitchen doorway, there was Dakota making breakfast in nothing but his T-shirt.

  He moved behind her, put his arms around her, breathed in the scent of bacon and the woman he loved.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she said with a sexy chuckle.

  “Hmm,” he said into the side of her neck. She felt warm and soft, rounded in all the right places. He loved her strength as much as he loved her soft places.

  Turning off the stove, he turned her in his arms. “What would it take to get you to come back to bed with me?”

  * * *

  EMMA HAD SLEPT. She woke sprawled on the couch with a crick in her neck and a page of her murder mystery pressed against her right cheek.

  At first she didn’t know what had roused her. Then she heard the phone and realized it wasn’t the first time it had rung.

  Still in her nightgown, she hurried to it, aware that it must be very early. Not even Mrs. Crowley was up yet.

  “I just got a call from the Butte Police Department,” Sheriff McCall Crawford said when Emma answered. “They’ve picked up a woman who matches Laura’s description from the age-progression photo we sent around the region.”

  Emma couldn’t help being afraid to get her hopes up. She’d prayed for this for so long. “But they aren’t sure?”

  “No, but they did find some evidence in her possession that makes them believe it’s her,” the sheriff said. “She had Courtney’s number and Great Falls address on her and some gas receipts from a Westside convenience store in Whitehorse.”

  “Are they going to bring her to Whitehorse?”

  “No,” McCall said. “They need Hoyt to come to Butte to make a positive identification. They can only hold her for forty-eight hours so he needs to come as soon as possible.”

  Hoyt would have to face his first wife? Emma couldn’t bear him having to do that. But if this was Laura and they couldn’t hold her any longer because of lack of evidence…

  “I’ll tell Hoyt.” She hung up and hurried upstairs only to find their bed empty. Hurrying back downstairs, she checked the kitchen and then headed for the barn.

  She found him with his horses—the place he always headed when he was worried or upset. So he hadn’t been able to sleep after all, she thought, wondering how long he’d been out there.

  Emma watched him brushing one of his favorite horses. She could hear him talking softly to the mare and felt such a rush of love for him it almost floored her.

  She took a step toward him, hating to interrupt. He looked so peaceful and she knew that this news would kill that instantly.

  “Emma?” Hoyt seemed surprised to see her. “I thought you’d be asleep for hours.” He smiled, making it clear he’d seen her sacked out on the couch. She probably still had the crease on her cheek where the page of her book had been pressed.

  “I just got a call from the sheriff,” she said. Hoyt put down the brush and stepped toward her. She quickly repeated what McCall had told her and watched an array of emotions cross his face. />
  “Then it’s her,” Hoyt said, sounding so relieved she stepped to him and put her arms around him. He pulled her close and she could hear the ragged emotion in his voice as he breathed words of love into her hair.

  “I have been so worried about you, Emma,” he said when she pulled back. “I have to go to Butte today? Why can’t they just check her DNA since it is still on file?”

  “I don’t know. Apparently it would take too long. Or maybe she refused to take a DNA test. I hate for you to have to go, but if this woman is Laura…”

  “Yes,” he said. “It definitely sounds like she is. I’ll do whatever I have to. I just want this to be over.”

  “Me, too,” Emma said. She thought they would all be able to breathe again once Laura was locked up for good.

  “I’ll call one of the boys to stay with you until I get back,” he said. Hoyt still referred to his sons as boys, even though they were all almost thirty or older.

  She started to argue that it wasn’t necessary. She had Mrs. Crowley. But her husband didn’t give her a chance.

  “I’d feel better if one of our sons is here with you until I’m positive they have Laura behind bars. Let’s not forget that there is a third prison escapee still on the loose.”

  She hadn’t forgotten. But with Laura locked up, she doubted they had to worry about the other escapee. By now he could already be across the border into Canada.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zane swore at the sound of the phone. He thought about not answering it. Right now the last thing he wanted was an intrusion from the outside world.

  He glanced over at Dakota on the bed next to him. Her body felt so warm next to his, he never wanted to leave this bed.

  The phone rang again. He reached for it and checked to see who was calling. When he saw that it was the ranch he quickly slipped out of bed.

  He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “Zane, it’s Dad.” Zane listened as he filled him in about the trip to Butte and the woman the police there had behind bars. “Marshall is going to be staying with Emma, but I wanted the rest of you to know what’s going on.”

  “They really think it’s her?”

  “Apparently she had Courtney’s number and address on her and some gas receipts from the Westside here in Whitehorse.”

  “Then she’ll be able to tell the police where Courtney is,” Zane said, and heard Dakota come up beside him. She was wearing his shirt again and nothing else. At this rate, they were never going to eat the breakfast she’d cooked.

  “Let me know what happens.” He hung up to take Dakota in his arms and tell her the possible good news.

  “Has this woman they arrested said anything about Courtney yet?”

  “Apparently not. But she did have Courtney’s address and phone number and some gas receipts from Whitehorse.”

  Dakota snuggled against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his bare chest.

  “Dad promised to call when he knew something definite.”

  She pulled back to look up at him. “I’m just so afraid that the more time that goes by…”

  “I know.” He thought about Courtney’s car being found in that ravine—and one of the escaped prisoners’ bodies found nearby. He regretted that he’d had to kill the other escaped convict last night before finding out anything about Courtney.

  Zane swung Dakota up into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom. Putting her down gently, he lay beside her on the bed.

  She was so beautiful. He touched her face, running his thumb pad over her smooth cheek. Her eyes widened and he saw desire stir in them.

  “If we don’t eat that wonderful breakfast you cooked pretty soon…”

  * * *

  HOYT REFUSED TO LEAVE until Marshall arrived. Emma was relieved when she saw Marshall drive up and Hoyt go out to talk to him. She and Hoyt had already said their goodbyes. She could tell Hoyt was just anxious to get to Butte.

  A pilot friend had offered to fly him and was now waiting for him at the small airport outside of Whitehorse. It was no more than a wind sock, a strip of tarmac and an old metal hangar. But by flying, Hoyt could get there sooner—and get back just as quickly.

  “Where’s Mrs. Crowley?” Marshall whispered as he came through the back door and looked around the kitchen. Emma waved out the window to Hoyt as he climbed into his pickup. His gaze locked with hers for a moment before he started the motor and drove away.

  “She wasn’t feeling well and went to her room to rest,” Emma said, turning from the window. “I’m worried about her. This isn’t like her. But I don’t dare go down to her room. She called me to say she had one of her headaches and asked if I would mind if she stayed in bed a little longer.”

  “She must have known I was coming over,” he said. “She doesn’t like me.”

  “That’s not true,” Emma said. He raised a brow and she laughed. “She doesn’t like anyone,” Emma whispered conspiratorially. “Sit down. I baked your second-most favorite cookies.”

  “I thought I smelled lemon.” He smiled and slid into a chair at the table. “Dad eat all the gingersnaps?”

  Emma closed the kitchen door so they would have privacy and turned on the radio to the country music station.

  “Mrs. Crowley hates this kind of music,” she said as she gave him a mug of hot coffee and a plate of lemon cookies and took a chair across from him.

  He grinned at her. “How can you stand her?”

  “Well…” She studied her stepson for a moment. “Can I tell you something? You just can’t tell your father what I’ve been doing.”

  He made a cross with his finger over his heart and laughed. “If you’ve been slipping Mrs. Crowley happy pills, I’ve got some bad news for you. They aren’t workin’.”

  Emma shook her head and leaned toward him. “I’ve been spying on her. And guess what? She sneaks off at night after we’re asleep and she doesn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning.”

  He frowned, clearly not expecting this. “Where does she go?”

  “Well, that’s what’s so interesting. She only drives eleven miles, round-trip.”

  “That wouldn’t even get her off the ranch.”

  “Exactly. But I think I’ve figured out where she goes. I just can’t imagine why…unless she’s meeting some man—” Emma realized “—at the old water mill house.”

  Emma realized Marshall wasn’t listening to her anymore. He was looking past her out the kitchen window one moment, the next he was shooting to his feet, a curse escaping his lips.

  She spun around to look out the window behind her, half expecting to see Mrs. Crowley’s face pressed to the glass.

  “Fire,” Marshall said reaching for his cell phone. “Grass fire.”

  Emma saw it then. Smoke on the horizon. She’d learned about grass fires since moving to the ranch and knew how dangerous they could be, especially if pushed by wind. Outside the window she could see a brisk wind stirring the branches of the cottonwood trees.

  She listened to Marshall barking information into the phone. He placed five more calls to his brothers.

  “Go,” she said when he snapped his phone shut. “I’m fine. Mrs. Crowley is here.”

  Marshall shook his head. “Zane is bringing Dakota to stay with you.”

  Emma liked Dakota and would be glad to spend some time with her. “Well, you don’t have to wait for them to get here. Mrs. Crowley is in her room and I have your number if I have to reach you. You’ll only be down the road.”

  The kitchen door suddenly opened. “What’s going on?” Mrs. Crowley asked as she filled the doorway.

  “Are you feeling better?” Emma asked.

  “What’s going on? I heard all the racket,” the housekeeper said in answer.

  “There’s a grass fire. The boys have gone to fight it.”

  Mrs. Crowley went to the window and looked out as if she’d known where it was, had already seen it. “So what are you waiting for
?” she demanded as she turned to face Marshall. “Shouldn’t you be out there fighting it?”

  He didn’t get a chance to reply.

  “I’m here with your stepmother now,” Mrs. Crowley said in her no-nonsense tone. “Go.”

  “She’s right,” Emma said. “We’ll be fine.”

  Marshall didn’t have to be told twice. “Dakota is going to drop off Zane, then come here. She should be here soon,” he said. “Call if you need me.”

  “I will,” Emma said as she pushed him out the door. He took off running toward the ranch truck with the water tank on the back. A few minutes later, he was roaring down the road toward the dark smudge of smoke along the horizon.

  “Marshall didn’t even eat one of the cookies I made for him,” Emma said. She turned to find Mrs. Crowley making tea.

  * * *

  “YOU MUST BE FEELING BETTER,” Emma said, looking out the window at the fire.

  Mrs. Crowley could hear the woman’s fear about the fire, but it was so like Emma to ask how she was feeling.

  “I am better, thank you.” Her employer turned in surprise at her words. “I appreciate how nice you’ve been to me. I know I haven’t made it easy.”

  Emma’s eyes widened a little as if she wasn’t sure the words had really come out of her housekeeper’s mouth.

  Mrs. Crowley nodded, not having to pretend a look of chagrin. “You have been nothing but kind and I have rebuffed that kindness at every turn. I’m sorry.”

  Emma appeared not to know what to say for a moment. “I just wanted you to feel at home here. I have a tendency to come on too strong.”

  “I do feel at home here.” Emma had no idea how much. “Please, let me make us a cup of tea and visit until your friend gets here.”

  “Are you sure you feel up to making the tea?”

  “Yes. I only had a headache earlier. I’m fine now.” She turned her back on Emma and began to fill the teapot, hoping the woman would take a seat and not insist on helping.

  To her relief, Emma was more interested in the grass fire.

  Mrs. Crowley tried not to hurry with the tea but time was of the essence. Dakota Lansing would be arriving soon. She had to get at least one cup of tea into Emma before that. This opportunity might not present itself again.