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A Cerridwen Press Publication
www.cerridwenpress.com
For Love of Charley ISBN #1-4199-0341-1 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. For Love of Charley Copyright© 2006 Katherine Allred Edited by Pamela Campbell Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: January 2006
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Cerridwen Press, 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously. Cerridwen Press is an imprint of Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®
FOR LOVE OF CHARLEY Katherine Allred
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Jaguar: Jaguar Cars Limited Corporation Chevy Blazer: General Motors Corporation Ford Taurus: Ford Motor Company Corporation Stetson: John B. Stetson, Company Volkswagen: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft Rolodex: Berol Corporation Porta Potti: Thetford Corporation Colt: Colt Manufacturing Company
For Love of Charley
Chapter One The sleek black Jaguar stood out amongst the pickup trucks on Main Street like a panther among a litter of kittens. Cole noticed heads turning to follow his progress. Hail the return of the conquering hero, he thought, a sardonic grin lifting the corners of his mouth. A short burst of laughter escaped him at the humor of the situation. Ten years earlier, he’d been forced to leave Canyon Bend, Nevada in disgrace, destitute and alone. Now he was back. Back to claim the one and only thing he wanted from this town. And this time, no one was going to stop him. He slowed the Jag, scanning the signs on the fronts of the buildings. Some were just as he remembered them, others were new, including the real estate company he was looking for. Finally locating the orange and blue sign, he pulled into a parking space and stopped. The building was small, squashed between Foster’s Drug Store on the right and Dixon’s Shoes on the left. As he climbed out of the car, a face appeared in the window and then vanished in a flurry of movement. Apparently, his fame had preceded him. Well, not his, but his company’s. Up until now, the only thing anyone in Canyon Bend knew was that a representative from CJE, Inc. was coming to town. That was about to change. It would probably take all of twenty-four hours before everyone knew that Cole Jordan was that representative. Pocketing his keys, Cole stood on the sidewalk and looked down the strange yet familiar street. So many memories, some of the best and worst of his life. They threatened to overpower him. Charley, he thought. Do you hate me? Will you give me another chance? Two doors down, a flash of chestnut hair captured his attention and he froze until the woman came more fully into view. No, it wasn’t her. This woman was taller, older than Charley. With a restrained sigh he pushed the office door open just in time to see a secretary slide into her chair, her face flushed at being caught staring. He nodded briefly in her direction. “I believe Mr. Bradley is expecting me.” “May I tell him your name, sir?” “Cole Jordan from CJE, Inc.” “Yes sir. One moment, please.” She picked up the phone and announced him, even though Cole would have bet money that Mr. Bradley knew quite well he was here. “He’ll be right with you, Mr. Jordan.” He flashed a smile at her and she turned even redder. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t put a name with the face. “If he’s busy, I can stop by later.”
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Katherine Allred
An office door opened and Mr. Bradley rushed out, his short legs giving him the appearance of mincing. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Jordan. Sorry to keep you waiting.” A pudgy hand was shoved in Cole’s direction. “I think we’ve got you all fixed up. As soon as we get the paperwork out of the way, I’ll run you out to the house. You’ve certainly made a wise choice. This is the most fabulous house in our area.” “I know where it is.” Bradley picked up a stack of papers from the corner of the secretary’s desk and pulled out a pen. “If you’ll just step into my office, we’ll get all this taken care of. Not often we get someone who pays cash for a house around here. Especially a house like this one.” Cole followed him into the other room and sat at a long table while Bradley needlessly explained each transaction. Signing the deed gave him more satisfaction than he’d had in years. Would Charley remember how they had dreamed of owning this house together? He couldn’t even begin to imagine her reaction when she found out he was back. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. He handed the papers over to Bradley, along with a check made out for the total. “I’ll see to it that everything is registered at the courthouse, Mr. Jordan, then mail you the copies.” Bradley turned to a pegboard on the wall behind him, pulled off a set of keys, and handed them to Cole. “There are two here and each one opens all the locks in the house, including dead bolts. The phones and utilities were turned on two days ago, so all you have to do is move in.” “Thank you for your help, Mr. Bradley. Now, I’m expecting a truck full of furniture to arrive shortly, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.” “It’s been a pleasure Mr. Jordan. If there’s anything else we can do for you, let us know.” Cole let the door swing shut behind him. Two teenagers were walking slowly around his car, awe written all over their faces. They looked up as Cole approached, and he saw them taking in his height and expensive clothes. “Is this your car, mister?” Cole smiled at them. “Yes, it is.” The red-haired boy with the freckles jabbed the other one in the ribs with his elbow. Apparently used to being designated spokesman, the blond plowed on. “Are you a movie star or something?” “No, I’m not a movie star. I guess you could say I’m a something.” “That’s a Jaguar, ain’t it? An XK8, convertible. I told Tommy it was. Those cost a lot of money, don’t they? I bet they cost at least fifty thou.” Cole smiled. “Pretty close to it.” The truth was, the car had cost three times that. It was custom-made and he’d deliberately chosen to drive it instead of a more sedate vehicle. When you had a point to make, you might as well do it right. “You just passing through, Mister?”
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For Love of Charley
“No, I’m going to be here awhile.” “Say, if you ever need that car washed, I’ll give you a good deal on it. Just call me. I’m Robert Stockton. My dad is Robert, Senior. We’re in the phone book.” Cole opened the car door, slid behind the wheel and paused, his gaze running over the teenager. The boy’s clothes were worn to the point of being ragged, and his shoes looked too big. A cord of sympathy twanged inside him. “Do you mow lawns too, Robert?” “Yes sir! Mow lawns and do odd jobs.” Taking a card out of his pocket, Cole jotted a phone number on the back and handed it to the boy. “Call me tomorrow and we’ll set up a day for you to start. You know the Carstairs place? That’s where I’m staying.” “Thanks, Mister! You won’t be sorry, I promise.” “Call me Cole. Cole Jordan.” He shook hands with Robert. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
***** Cole stopped the Jag halfway down the long sweeping driveway, and stared at the house. Ultramodern in design, it would have been out of place in town, but here, among the foothills, it blended in perfectly. Its square lines followed the shape of the hills, giving it a stepped-up appearance. Wide expanses of glass were offset by patios covered in rustic wooden beams. The view from inside would be spectacular. He’d had an appraiser go over it thoroughly before he’d made an offer on it and knew it was in mint condition. But the truth was, he’d have bought it even if it were falling down in disrepair. This wasn’t just a house to him. It was a symbol. A symbol of everything he’d lacked as a boy, and now had in abundance. And it was one more thing to lure Charley back to him. She’d loved the house as much as he had, and he was going to need every weapon in his arsenal for this quest. The sound of a motor brought him out of his reverie and he glanced in the rearview mirror. A blue sedan had just turned into the drive behind him. Kristy. Right on schedule, as usual. He put the Jag in gear and pulled it into the attached garage, waiting until she stopped next to him. With her usual energy, his petite blonde assistant bounded out of the car already talking a mile a minute. “The vans are right behind me. Boy, you were right. This is some place. The pictures didn’t do it justice. I can’t wait to see the inside. Did you get the keys?” Cole dangled them from his hand. “Right here. But there are only two. I’ll get some spares made tomorrow.” He slipped one off and tossed it to her. “Remind me to have Roger come out and do a preliminary for a new security system. Oh, and I hired a kid to take care of the grounds. He’s supposed to call tomorrow to set up a schedule. His name is Robert Stockton.”
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Katherine Allred
Kristy yanked her ever-present notebook from the pocket of her oxford style shirt and took notes as she followed him to the door. “What about a cook and housekeeper? You want me to find someone locally, or is Mrs. Paulson coming out?” “Do you actually think she’d turn me over to the clutches of some provincial Lucretia Borgia? Just the thought made her go pale. She’s visiting her sister in Reno until the house is in ‘civilized order.’ I expect her Monday.” He unlocked the door and stepped inside, excitement washing over him. Built by the exclusive Carstairs Architectural Firm as a summer house and showplace for clients, no one in Canyon Bend had been considered good enough to earn the right of entry. Especially not the Jordan family. Now, not only was he standing in the forbidden Carstairs house, he owned it. Kristy brushed by him and trotted to the center of the huge room, her footsteps echoing through the empty house. Cole watched her turn in a complete circle, her gaze sweeping the exposed beams of the high ceiling, the giant kiva in one corner that served as a fireplace, and the glass that framed two sides of the room. “Wow! It’s fantastic. And the furniture will go perfectly. You were right. The Southwestern motif was made for this place. I’m going to go explore before the vans get here.” “Kristy?” She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Are you sure your boyfriend didn’t mind you moving out here?” “Mind?” She shot him a wicked grin. “I think he was glad to get rid of me. And the feeling was mutual. Besides, for the chance to help you refurbish a real ghost town, I’d have dumped Mel Gibson.” She vanished into the next room, and Cole heard her mumble, “Gonna get me a real cowboy next time.” He grinned and headed up the stairs to the next level. Kristy was so obsessed with the Old West that it sometimes took on ridiculous overtones. If a male didn’t wear boots and a Stetson, she wouldn’t date him. But her obsession was going to make her invaluable on this job. When Cole Jordan Entertainment, Inc. had bought Duncan Mills, Kristy had immediately started researching its history. She’d already made one trip out with an architect and worked with him on the plans to restore the place as authentically as possible. Construction was due to start in one week and Cole knew it was going to be a major tourist attraction when completed. Pushing the project out of his mind, he wandered from room to room. Duncan Mills was Kristy’s baby. He fully intended to be busy in other areas. There were four bedrooms on the second level, each with their own bath. This floor also had its own patio, as did the bottom one, and after a cursory look, he moved up to the third. This was the master suite. At the top of the stairs was a sitting room larger than most houses. A railing across the front offered an open look onto the second level and down into the living room. Two arched doors opened into what he knew were the bedroom, and an office complete with built-in bookshelves. There was so much glass it was almost like being outside.
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For Love of Charley
French doors led to a large patio with a pool. From the pictures he’d seen, there was another exit just like it in the bedroom. Sliding the door to one side, Cole stepped out, inhaling the clean mountain air. After ten years in the smog-enshrouded city of Los Angeles, it was like tasting nectar. How had he forgotten the fresh smell of the mountains? Walking to the edge of the patio, he faced east, his eyes searching for and finding the glimmer of blue water. Ten years ago, the trees had been smaller. Now the lake played peek-a-boo with deep green branches. Do you ever go back to our spot, Charley? he wondered. Do you even think about me anymore? As much as he stared, the distance was too great for him to locate the tiny glade where he’d last seen her. The place where he’d taken her virginity one hot summer night, and then vanished from her life the next morning. One magical night. That had been all he’d had to hang onto all these years. Cole reached into his pocket, pulled out the newspaper clipping that was already starting to yellow, and unfolded it. The picture had been taken at a wedding reception for the mayor’s daughter. In Canyon Bend, it must have been the social event of the season. The mayor himself was in the foreground of the shot, but that wasn’t why Cole had the clipping. In the background and to one side, the camera had caught Charley, her hand on the arm of the man with her while she laughed up at him. The jealous rage he’d experienced when he’d first seen the picture still hit him every time he looked at it. It had, in fact, been the motivating force in stepping up his plans by a year. He wasn’t willing to risk losing Charley to another man. Especially not this one. “You’re going to wear that thing out.” He turned and smiled at Kristy. “Maybe I won’t need to for much longer. I’ll have the real thing to look at.” “Yeah, well, look may be all you get to do. Sure you don’t want me to go to the Red Dog with you tonight? I’m certified in CPR, you know. And if you’d done to me what she thinks you did to her, you’d need it.” “Thanks, but I’ll go alone. You know the plan. As far as Charley will know, I’m only here for business reasons.” Kristy peered over his arm at the picture, an expression of doubt on her face. “You really think ignoring her is going to work?” “I’m betting the ranch on it. I know Charley. If I walk in there and tell her I love her, I really would need CPR. She’d probably marry Ben just to spite me.” “Ben? Is that the guy in the picture with her?” Cole glanced back down at it and tried not to grit his teeth. “Yes. Ben Zimmerman. He’s the county sheriff now. He always hated that Charley and I were together. And of course, her uncle thought he was much more suitable for her than I was. After all, the Zimmermans run the bank. My family was just poor white trash from the wrong side of the tracks.” 9
Katherine Allred
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand the small town mentality. To think her uncle actually threatened you.” Cole shook his head. “It wasn’t me he threatened, Kristy. If it had been, I never would have left.” He glanced toward the lake again, remembering. “It was Charley’s twentieth birthday and we’d spent most of the night together. That was when I asked her to marry me. When I got home, Victor Channing was waiting for me. He told me he never wanted me near his niece again, that I wasn’t fit to even wipe her shoes, and that I’d better be gone by morning. I refused, but he owned the house my mother lived in, and he threatened to tear it down. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could afford after my father died. I couldn’t let him throw her out. She had nowhere else to go.” He shrugged. “So I left. I wrote to Charley every week for the next year, hoping at least one letter would get through to her. When she never answered, I gave up.” “I just hope I’m around when Uncle Victor finds out that the company who owns half his niece’s saloon is Jordan Enterprises. The man is going to stroke out.” “We can only hope. Whoever said ‘revenge is sweet’ sure knew what they were talking about.” A rumble from the front of the house had both of them turning to watch the moving vans approach. “Looks like it’s time to go to work,” Kristy said. As she headed back toward the house she glanced into the swimming pool. “Ew, gross. Nothing like scummy water and mildew to start the day off right.” The notebook came out again. “I’ll have someone out to clean and repair it by the end of the week.” Cole nodded his assent. “I’ll be right down.” When Kristy was gone, he carefully folded the newspaper clipping and stuck it back in his pocket. With one final look toward the lake, he turned and entered the house, sliding the glass doors closed behind him.
***** Even though he was worn out, Cole dressed carefully for his first trip to the Red Dog. Shunning the designer suits that were his normal uniform in L.A., he grabbed his oldest pair of jeans and slid them on. The bottoms where slightly flared to fit over his boots, and the hems were a little ragged. He added a simple, white cotton shirt and tucked it in, fastening a wide belt around his waist. Stomping his feet into boots, he picked up the suede jacket that had been tossed over a chair and put it on. His glance swept the house as he went down the stairs. At least the furniture was all in place. There were only a few boxes left to be unpacked in the kitchen, and Mrs. Paulson would be miffed if he didn’t let her arrange things to her own satisfaction. When it came to the kitchen, she was the undisputed dictator. Kristy was sprawled on the floor of the living room, blueprints scattered around her. She looked up, did a double take, then grinned. “Be still, my foolish heart. I swear, Cole, if you keep dressing like that, I may have to push Charley off a cliff.”
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For Love of Charley
Cole laughed. “You’d be turned on by a scarecrow if it were dressed in jeans and boots.” She tilted her head sideways, eyes narrowed as she considered his statement, then sighed. “You’re right. There’s just something about all those bulging muscles covered in denim that makes me get flushed all over. I think it’s hormonal.” She paused and her gaze swept him again. “I thought the idea was to not impress her. ‘Cause I feel obligated to tell you, you are gonna knock her socks off looking like that.” Cole’s smile turned to one of satisfaction. “Good. I want her to be impressed. I just don’t want her to think I’m trying to do it.” “And they say women are devious.” He picked up the car keys from the table by the door. “Are you going to be okay alone for a while? I don’t figure I’ll be gone long.” “Hit and run, huh? Yeah, I’ll be fine. I picked up some groceries in town on the way through. I’m going to make a western omelet later. If you’re back in time, I’ll fix you one.” “No onions in mine.” “Chicken!” Her words followed him through the door. Still chuckling, he climbed into the Jag and headed toward the Red Dog Saloon, his sense of anticipation growing with every mile. After ten long, lonely years, the waiting was over. Tonight he would see Charley.
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Katherine Allred
Chapter Two The parking lot in front of the Red Dog was almost full, and the sounds of countrywestern music drifted from the door as Cole stepped out of the Jag. His gaze swept the building, taking in the additions that his money had made possible. The saloon was twice the size it had been when he’d left town. Charley had done a good job of blending the new with the old. The plank siding on the new half wasn’t as weathered as the older part of the building, but given a year, it would be. Gravel crunched underfoot as he walked, and he made a mental note to check into having it paved. The Red Dog was located nearer Duncan Mills than it was to Canyon Bend. When the tourists started flocking to the area, the saloon was going to become a major stopping point. Business was going to boom here as well as in Canyon Bend. And along with the boom, problems were going to arise. He’d already set up a meeting with the Canyon Bend City Council to discuss the issues. Pausing at the double saloon doors, Cole made a quick survey of the room then slipped in, standing to one side as his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the dimly lit interior. Choosing a table in the darkest corner of the room, he slid through the crowd and pulled out a chair. He wanted time to look the place over before he confronted Charley. He also wanted time to look at Charley, herself. People ebbed and flowed between the saloon and the new dance floor, blocking his view of the bar. Shouts of laughter erupted from the far corner where an unlucky cowboy had just been tossed by the mechanical bull that was also a new addition to the business. With a swish of satin skirts, a waitress stopped at his table. She was dressed in the costume of an old-time saloon girl, the strapless bodice of the dress looking like it was held up by willpower alone. Bright red feathers adorned the spangled headband that circled her forehead. “Hi. I’m Frannie. Welcome to the Red Dog Saloon. What can I get you tonight?” “A draft.” “Coming right up.” Cole watched her wend her way skillfully through the crowd and step up to the bar. Suddenly, every other thought vanished from his mind. Charley was there, her chestnut curls caught in a ponytail at her nape, a towel over one shoulder. Sweat shone on her face under the bar lights, catching on escaped tendrils of hair that clung to her skin. She was even more beautiful now than she had been at nineteen. His starved gaze followed her every move as she turned and laughed at some comment from farther down the bar. Only iron control kept him seated, kept him from going to her and dragging her over the bar into his arms. It would be the worst possible thing he could do. 12
For Love of Charley
Frannie reappeared at his table and put a mug of beer in front of him. “There you go, Champ. If you need anything else, just give me a yell. We don’t stand on formality around here.” Cole nodded. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” He leaned back in the chair, legs crossed as he took a swallow of the beer, his gaze never leaving Charley. She was in constant motion, her slim body flitting from one end of the bar to the other, taking orders and mixing drinks. Her attention was focused on her customers, smiling and chatting as she worked, and they responded to her in the same manner. It gave the saloon the air of a big, happy family reunion, rather than a place of public business. When he’d almost finished the beer, Cole took a piece of paper from his pocket and jotted a quick note on it. Folding it in half, he motioned Frannie back. “Would you give this to the lady behind the bar, please?” “Sure.” She took the note from his hand. “But I have to tell you, you’re wasting your time. Charley doesn’t date much.” “Oh?” Cole hid his sudden interest by taking another sip from the glass. “And why is that?” “Believe it or not, Champ, not every woman on the planet is panting to snag a husband. Charley does just fine on her own. She’s not interested in anything but The Red Dog.” “I suspect she may be interested in what I have to say.” “It’s your funeral. Can I get you another beer?” “No, thanks. I’m fine.” He watched as Frannie headed straight for the bar and stopped in front of Charley. “Hey, sweetie, looks like you made another conquest.” “Great. That’s just what I need tonight. I’ve got too many customers to waste time fighting off a budding Romeo. I hope you told him I wasn’t interested?” Charley arched an eyebrow in question. “Sure did, but this one doesn’t look like the type to take no for an answer. He said to give you this.” Frannie passed the note across. “Tell you what. If you don’t want him, I’ll be happy to stand in for you. This guy is a real heavenly hunk.” “Ben might get a little hostile if you start dating someone else. Men are funny that way.” Charley threw the note onto the countertop, but something familiar caught her eye and she picked it back up. The letterhead was one she’d seen many times in the last eighteen months. CJE, Inc. was stamped across the top in bold, cursive letters. The note itself was short and to the point. Looks like business is booming. Do you have a few minutes to talk about it? There was no signature. “Frannie,” She stopped the waitress. “Who gave you this?” “Guy at the corner table. Is something wrong, Charley? You look kind of pale.” “Yeah, something’s wrong. He isn’t hitting on me. He’s here from CJE, Inc.” 13
Katherine Allred
“Well, you knew someone was going to turn up sooner or later. After all, you sold them half the business.” Charley squinted at the dark shape in the corner, unable to see more than just a vague outline. “I didn’t have a choice, Frannie. It was the only way to get the money I needed for the expansion. But I was really hoping they’d just leave the running of the Red Dog to me.” “If you bought half of a business, would you be content to keep your fingers out of the pie?” “I guess not.” Charley gave her a rueful smile. “Will you find Frank for me and tell him I need him to take over the bar for a while? May as well get this over with.” “Consider it done.” Charley went back to work, her glance going again and again to the figure in the corner. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t moved a muscle since the first time she’d looked. The gate at the end of the bar opened and Frank slid by her, smoothly picking up the action as Charley stepped back and wiped her hands on a towel. Taking a deep breath, she moved through the crowds, responding with a smile or wave to the greetings that were called out. The man she was approaching didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her progress. His head was turned toward the dance floor, giving her a glimpse of dark brown hair that hung in waves down the back of his neck and tapered into shorter lengths toward the top. From what little she could see of his profile, he had a short, well-trimmed beard created to look like a heavier-thannormal five o’clock shadow. Nerves jittered down her spine as she stopped next to the table. There was something about that profile… His head turned toward her and she found herself looking into deep brown eyes that surveyed her with a distant coolness. Eyes that she knew so well and had once loved. “Hello, Charley.” His voice was deeper than she remembered, and every bit as cool as his eyes. Rage slammed into her like a fist, driving every other emotion from her mind like a forest destroyed by fire. “You bastard.” The words erupted from her in a hiss of fury. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here. I want you out of my bar! Now!” The voices closest to them began to drop, and heads began to turn. “Our bar.” Cole picked up his glass and finished the contents. “You’re CJE, Inc.?” Her entire body was tensed for battle. He pushed a chair out with one booted foot. “That’s right. CJE, Inc. is a subsidiary of Jordan Enterprises. Why don’t you sit down and we can discuss it.” “When hell freezes over. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I don’t want any part of it.” She watched him throw some bills onto the table and then stand.
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For Love of Charley
“Too bad. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to go over the books. If you’d care to join me, we can talk about the plans I have for The Red Dog. If not, I’ll handle matters myself in my own way.” “Over my dead body.” He shrugged lightly as he brushed by her. “Up to you. But I’m going to be implementing some changes. If you want to have anything to say about them, I suggest you be here.” Before Charley could think of a suitable name to call him, he vanished out the door. “Bastard,” she gritted again. With a burst of repressed adrenaline, her foot shot out and connected with the chair he’d been sitting in, sending it crashing against the wall. Damn. She’d forgotten she was wearing sneakers. Pain lanced up her leg, and she clutched her foot, hopping on the other one. “Charley, are you okay?” Frannie’s anxious face appeared next to her. “No. I think I broke my toe.” “Come on. You look like you could use a little air.” “What I could use is a gun and four hefty bouncers.” A smile of satisfaction crossed her face at the thought. “That way I could have them beat the crap out him before I shoot him.” “Uh-huh.” Frannie steered her out the side door and away from curious eyes. “I take it the meeting didn’t go well?” “That arrogant, conceited bastard!” Charley hobbled up and down in front of the door in a vain attempt to pace. “He probably thinks he can just show up after all these years and I’ll fall right back into his arms. What right does he have to march in here and start ordering me around like he owns the place?” “Uh, Charley? I hate to interrupt a good tirade, but he does own the place. Half of it, anyway.” Charley shot her a glare and kept pacing. “There has to be something I can do. I refuse to work with Cole Jordan and he’s insane if he thinks I will.” “Cole Jordan? The same Cole Jordan that practically left you standing at the altar?” Frannie straightened in outraged loyalty. “The bastard.” “Exactly,” Charley snapped. “Okay, we need to calm down. I know how you must feel, but we have to try to think logically here. Why did he buy half ownership in the Red Dog to start with?” “Because he wants me back under his thumb, of course. Why else would he do it? He certainly has no reason to love this town. I’d think he would want to stay as far away as possible.” “If he wanted you back under his thumb, why didn’t he show up eighteen months ago when you made the deal?” “That one’s easy. He knew there was no way on Earth I’d take a penny of his money for the Red Dog. I’d have let it fall down or stuck a match to it myself, first.” 15
Katherine Allred
“That’s true,” Frannie was looking thoughtful. “On the other hand, he didn’t even show up after the papers were signed. He’s given you free rein for a year and a half.” She hesitated. “Are you still in love with him, Charley?” “My God, Frannie! You’re crazier than he is! Not only do I not love him, I hate his guts.” “You have to admit, you’re reacting kind of strongly. Did you ever consider that maybe this is just a business deal to him? Ten years is a long time. People change. If he didn’t love you enough to stick around before, what makes you think he has an ulterior motive for being here now?” Charley paused in her pacing, running a hand over her hair in frustration. “How was I supposed to react? Wouldn’t you be upset if a guy proposed to you one night, left without a word the next day, then suddenly showed up ten years later and announced he owned half the business you worked your butt off to build?” Frannie shook her head. “I think that after ten years, I’d have gotten over it and put it behind me. And it was his money that let you make the improvements to the saloon. Now you’re stuck with him, unless you have the money to buy him out. You’re going to have to make a choice. Are you going to act in a professional manner and treat this as just a business deal, or are you going to go off the deep end every time you see him?” She stared at Frannie for a second, then gazed out into the darkness. “I don’t have the money to buy him out, and you know it. Every cent I have is put back into the saloon. But you’re right. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of thinking he still bothers me when he doesn’t. And I’ll be damned if I let him take over the Red Dog. This is my saloon. From now on, it’s strictly business.” “Atta girl! Chin up and forward, ho! We’ll show the bastard he can’t push the Harts around.” Charley chuckled. “Frannie, have I ever told you how glad I am to have you for a cousin?” “Nope. But that’s okay. I could see the love shining from your eyes every time you hit me when we were kids. I just wish we could have spent more than the occasional summer together. I might have a better right hook now if we had. Ready to go back to work?” Charley tramped down on her still-simmering emotions and forced herself to smile. “Ready. Let’s get to it.”
***** As usual, the Wednesday night crowd at the saloon emptied out by ten, leaving the staff to clean up and head home early. The weekends were different. Those nights, the Red Dog stayed open until the wee hours of the morning. Frannie, dressed now in jeans and a T-shirt, stopped at the bar on her way out. “Want me to wait while you lock up?”
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For Love of Charley
Charley shook her head. “Thanks Frannie, but I’ve got to check some inventory. I’ll be about another thirty minutes.” “Okay. See you tomorrow night. And if you need me before then, don’t hesitate to call.” “Thanks, but I’m fine. Drive carefully.” Her cousin and best friend waved as she went out the door. Charley followed her and made sure the lock was in place before returning to the bar. Once there, for the first time since she’d bought the Red Dog, she broke one of her own rules. Pouring herself a stiff shot of whiskey, she sat down at the bar and stared at her reflection in the mirrorcovered wall. “You,” she told the woman looking back at her, “are such a damn fraud. You can lie to everyone else, but at least admit it to yourself. You never stopped loving him and you never will. But that doesn’t mean he has to know it.” She shut her eyes and lifted the glass to her lips, tossing back the liquor in one swift move. Her mouth puckered at the taste, and she coughed as the fire slid down her throat and spread into her stomach. Why was he back? It had taken a while, but she had finally managed to make a life for herself that didn’t revolve around Cole Jordan. She had accepted the fact that she would never see him again, that she would spend her life alone. There were even days when she didn’t think about him. At least, not more than once or twice. Dating Cole had been a constant battle between her hormones and her morals. He had been persistent and persuasive in his attempts to make love to her. But when she’d told him that she would only make love to one man in her lifetime, she had meant it. Her mother’s promiscuity and misery had taught her well. For Charley, there could only be room for one man in her heart. That man was Cole Jordan. He had been her first and last lover. There would be no more. She had given him more than just her body that night. She had given him her soul, and when he’d left, he’d taken it with him. Undoing the band around her ponytail, she let her hair loose and shook her head to free the mass. Even through her hurt and anger tonight, she hadn’t failed to notice how good he looked. The thin, lanky frame of the young boy she remembered had filled out into the well-defined shape of manhood. He had no right to look even better now than he had ten years ago, she thought indignantly. If there was any justice in the world, he should have been fat, bald and ugly. Slipping back around the bar, she washed her glass and returned it to the shelf. When she had finally accepted that he wasn’t coming back all those years ago, she had taken all the pain and anger and buried them way down inside. The shock of seeing him tonight had blown the tightly sealed lid right off those emotions. Her reaction had been involuntary, no more stoppable than a force of nature. If she’d had any warning, her reaction would have been much different, more civilized and ladylike. And, she decided, that’s just what it would be from now on. Strictly business. She wasn’t the same innocent girl that he’d taken advantage of before. Now she was a hell of a lot smarter, especially where Cole Jordan was concerned.
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As a matter of fact, she might as well start acting businesslike now. With the shot of whiskey bolstering her courage, Charley picked up the telephone. She’d just call him and apologize for the way she’d reacted earlier, and find out what time he’d like to meet tomorrow. There was only one motel in town, and if he’d been here for very long, she’d have heard about it. “Tanya? This is Charley Hart. Can you connect me to Cole Jordan’s room, please?” She could hear paper rustling in the background. “Charley? We have no one registered under that name.” “Well, how about under CJE, Inc. or Jordan Enterprises?” “Nope, sorry.” This was silly. Where else could he be staying? “Has anyone checked in over the last twenty-four hours?” “A mother with two screaming kids, and a salesman.” “What does the salesman look like?” “About sixty, gray hair, kind of chubby.” “Okay, thanks Tanya. That’s not who I’m looking for.” She dropped the phone into the cradle and stared at it in perplexity. So much for that plan. She’d just have to do it tomorrow, face-to-face. The idea didn’t thrill her. It would have been much easier to apologize if she didn’t have to see his expression when she did it. Pulling her purse from under the counter, she headed toward the door. She’d have to be sure to set her alarm when she got home. Only rarely did she make it to work before eleven, but tomorrow she wanted to be sure she was here well ahead of Cole. The reasoning behind this decision escaped her at the moment, but she didn’t really care. With a final glance around to make sure everything was in order, Charley locked the doors and climbed into her Chevy pickup. The grinding of the starter made her hold her breath, and she didn’t let it out until the motor finally caught. Uncle Victor had offered to buy her a new truck but she had refused. This one might not be pretty, and it might not be the most reliable transportation in the world, but it was paid for and she’d done it all by herself. Most importantly, it would get her back here in the morning for her next confrontation with Cole Jordan. In spite of her intentions to be businesslike, a chill ran over Charley. Dear God. He was back, and tomorrow she would have to face him knowing that he was going to break her heart all over again.
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For Love of Charley
Chapter Three The sun was just beginning to emerge from hiding when Cole stepped out of the shower, his mind on the coming day. A whole day to spend with Charley. If she showed up, that is. He couldn’t keep from smiling. He had expected her to be upset over his sudden reappearance in her life, but never in his wildest fantasies had he expected her to go ballistic as she had last night. It gave him more hope than he’d had in years. If some part of her didn’t still care, there would have been no need for a reaction like that. Again, he dressed in jeans and a shirt, then headed out to the Jag. He wanted some time at the Red Dog before Charley got there. When he’d bought into the saloon, he’d received a set of keys, so getting in would be no problem. The only real problem he could see would be keeping his hands off Charley. But he had to, and as much as he hated the deception, he had to make her think that this was just business for him. He had to give her a chance to get to know him again, and hopefully, to love him. Everything he had—the money, the businesses—were worth nothing to him without her. For Charley, he would give away every penny he’d earned the last few years, and do it with a smile on his face. Full daylight had finally pushed its way across the sky when he stopped the car behind the Red Dog. The parking lot was empty, just as he’d hoped it would be. He let himself in, turning on lights as he went. Charley’s office was easy to find. It was the only one in the building. Her desk was neat, as though she rarely used it, and he suspected she probably didn’t. Charley had always been more the hands-on type, preferring to do the physical work herself. Last night had shown him how good she was at it. Her customers loved her. She must hate the paperwork that went with running a business. The books were in plain sight, but he ignored them for now, choosing instead to explore the rest of the building. The hall was long and lined with doors. He went through each room methodically. Several were cavernous storage areas, full to the rafters with boxes and supplies, but at least three rooms would be suitable for offices when they were cleaned out. The one directly across from Charley’s would be his. It wasn’t the largest, but he liked the location, and it would fit his needs perfectly. At the moment it only contained one long table with several folding chairs. They would need the table before the day was over. After making a trip to the Jag to get his briefcase, Cole returned to Charley’s office, taking long enough to start coffee brewing in the pot that sat on a side table. With the books spread out in front of him, he went to work, periodically jotting notes on the paper next to him. Charley had created her own system for keeping books, it seemed.
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He smiled slightly. It was going to take an accountant a solid week of hard work to get them straightened out again. The first inkling he had of Charley’s arrival was the loud backfiring of a vehicle from somewhere nearby. The sputtering of a motor that sounded like it was making its last bid for life echoed from the back of the building and then stopped completely. Relief flowed though him. She had decided to show up. Listening to the back door open, and the sound of her footsteps down the hall, he went back to staring at the books, trying his best to look uninterested in her arrival. He didn’t even look up when she stopped in the doorway. The silence extended until Cole was on the verge of checking to see if he’d only imagined she was there. “How long have you been here?” She sounded edgy and nervous, but no longer mad. “Long enough.” He still didn’t look up. “Who does your books, Attila the Hun?” Instantly, she bristled. “I do my own books, and the system works just fine for me. If you don’t understand it, that’s your problem.” “I didn’t say I didn’t understand it. But the way they are now, if you were ever audited, they’d probably throw you in jail just on general principle.” He finally looked up, his gaze sweeping her rapidly before returning to her face. She had obviously dressed with care. Nothing too fancy, of course. Just a pair of khaki pants and a goldenbrown, silk blouse, but she looked like an angel in them. “That’s the first change we’re making. I’m going to hire an accountant to take care of them, if you don’t mind.” “Do I have a choice?” Sarcasm dripped from her words. “No. Not in this area.” He leaned back in the chair. “Maybe we should get a few things straight right up front, Charley. I bought into the saloon because I happen to have some plans for this area of the county. It was a good investment, and it has the potential to make us both quite a bit of money. I don’t intend to take the management of the Red Dog away from you. For one thing, I don’t have time to do it myself. For another, you seem to be good at it and I don’t believe in fixing what isn’t broken. On the other hand, I have no intention of fighting with you over every improvement I want to make. So you can either work with me and have a say in what’s happening, or you can stay out of my way. What’s it going to be?” Charley stared at him. He knew the exact moment when it finally dawned on her that this wasn’t a short business trip for him. He was back to stay. Cole watched as emotions flashed across her face too rapidly to read. “Why didn’t you let me know you were the one buying into the saloon, Cole? Why the big mystery?” He toyed with an ink pen. “If you’d bothered to read the contract carefully, you might have known.” “My lawyer handled it. She’s competent. I was mainly concerned with the financial details.”
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“Maybe you should take another look at it. It says very plainly that CJE, Inc. is a subsidiary of Jordan Enterprises.” “Oh, believe me, I will.” She took another step into the room. “I tried to call you at the motel last night.” Cole leaned forward and pulled a pad of paper closer. “I’m not at the motel.” He jotted two numbers down. “You can reach me at one of these if you need to. The second one is my cell phone. Don’t lose them. They’re unlisted.” He handed her the paper, his fingers just barely skimming hers. A tingle shot all the way up his arm, and he saw with amusement that she flinched. “What did you want?” Charley looked down at the numbers, then folded the paper and stuck it in her pocket. “Two things, really. I wanted to find out what time you were planning to be here, and I wanted to apologize.” “Apologize?” It was hard not to smile, but he managed to keep his expression only mildly interested. “Yes. For the way I acted last night. It was uncalled for and rude. My only excuse is that you surprised me. There’s really no reason we can’t be civilized about this. After all, the past is past.” “Is it? That’s an interesting philosophy.” He gave her a bland stare. “But don’t worry about it. I’ve been called a lot worse than bastard in my life. I suspect I will be again.” She hesitated. “Business is really the only reason you’re back?” Cole arched an eyebrow. “What else would it be?” She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that the Red Dog doesn’t really seem important enough for you to be this interested in it. Not when you’ve got your company in California to take care of.” “I didn’t say I was here just to make changes to the saloon. It’s actually a very small part of the business that’s brought me back. I need a base of operation. The Red Dog is in the perfect spot to provide me with one.” “What other business could you have in Canyon Bend? There’s nothing here.” “I remember.” He gave her a half smile and gestured. “You may as well sit down and I’ll tell you about it. You’ll find out soon anyway. I’ve asked for a special meeting of the City Council Monday night.” Charley sat down on the edge of a chair and wiped the palms of her hands surreptitiously on her legs. “I don’t understand.” “I bought Duncan Mills. By the middle of next week an entire crew of construction workers will begin renovations on the ghost town. The projected time to completion is six months. When they’re done, Duncan Mills will be restored to what it once was and become a major tourist attraction.” In spite of herself, Charley felt a tingle of excitement. “You’re serious? Do you know what this means?” She leaped to her feet and began pacing. “More jobs, higher wages.
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Canyon Bend will become a boom town!” She waved her hands in the air. “This is fantastic! There will be so many opportunities. And the Red Dog! There’s so much I need to do. Six months, you say?” Reality hit hard, and she sank back down in the chair, groaning. “I can’t. We’re making money, but not that much.” Cole stood and picked up his briefcase. “Come on, let’s go across the hall.” “Why?” “Because I want to show you something, and I need more room.” Charley followed him, watching his broad shoulders move under his shirt. This man in front of her had made love to her, and there was hardly a night since then that she hadn’t felt him touching her, driving her into a frenzy of need. She shook her head, trying to push the memory away. He was also, she reminded herself fiercely, the man who had left her without a word. She wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Before she had time to brace herself, he turned with his back to the door and their gazes met as he pushed it open. Charley could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks and willed herself to look away. “Charley, is working with me going to be a problem for you?” The heat flared higher as she brushed by him. “Of course not. Why would you think that?” “You seem kind of uncomfortable.” “Uncomfortable? Why would I be uncomfortable?” Anger shot through her again. “I mean, you ask me to marry you one night, and then disappear for ten years. Now, you suddenly waltz back into town and act as though nothing happened. You want to know why I seem uncomfortable? Think about it!” He dropped the briefcase onto a chair and leaned back against the table, watching her. “Sometimes, Charley, circumstances are out of our control. One of these days, maybe we’ll talk about it.” He turned and pulled out a set of blueprints. “Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me. There are only so many things I can delegate before I have to step in and do the work myself.” Was it her imagination, or had his voice softened for a moment? And what circumstances was he talking about? Could it be that he hadn’t wanted to leave her? An unidentified emotion began to slowly unfurl inside her, but she squashed it like a bug. Whatever excuse he came up with would be a lie. She knew Cole well enough to realize that nothing could have made him leave if he hadn’t wanted to. Steeling herself to a calm dignity, she moved to the table. “What’s that?” Cole glanced at her. “Blueprints for the Red Dog.” Anchoring one end of the roll with his briefcase, he spread the plans on the table. “See? This is the building as it exists now. When Duncan Mills is fully operational, there are going to be some things that are desperately needed. A restaurant is one of them. What I’d like to do is add one on to this side of the saloon.” Charley leaned over the table, scanning the plans rapidly. “Are these to scale?”
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“Yes.” “Then we have a problem. As much as I’d love to see it happen, this restaurant would take up most of our parking space and quite a bit of the land bordering our property. Even if I had the money to build it, which I don’t, I doubt the owner of that lot would approve of us building on it.” “I own the land. As a matter of fact, I own all the land between here and Duncan Mills. Another one of my projects is going to be a hotel. It will be built halfway between Duncan Mills and the restaurant. Money will be no problem. I’m paying for the restaurant.” “No.” Charley stepped back. “That wouldn’t be fair. I own half of the Red Dog, I should be able to pay half the cost of improvements.” “Can you?” he asked bluntly. Charley wilted. “No. My house is mortgaged to the hilt and there’s no way the bank will loan me any more.” Cole ran a hand though his hair, glanced down at the plans and then looked back at her. “If we don’t move on this now, someone else will. How about if I loan you the money? You start paying it back after all the work is done and the tourists start to arrive. Say, one year from now.” “If you own all that land, why don’t you just build it there? You don’t need it to be part of the Red Dog.” “Yes, I do. I’ve had feasibility studies done, public opinion studies done, marketing studies, and two dozen more that I won’t go into. They all agree that the best place for it is right here.” “How long have you been planning this?” Charley asked, surprise running through her. “Two years. It took that long to buy the land and get the preliminary work out of the way.” “So when you bought half of the Red Dog, you already knew?” “Yes.” Charley chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “I want a contract of repayment, and I want the payments to reflect the current interest rate. Also, I expect an accounting of every cent spent on the construction, and I want a clause that doesn’t penalize me for early payoff of the loan.” Smiling, Cole stuck out his hand. “Deal.” She stared at his hand for a second, every nerve in her body screaming. Hesitantly, she raised her own and felt it enfolded in his warm grip. Instead of shaking it, he held it, his gaze meeting hers again. “Your lawyers or mine?” The tone of his voice seemed huskier than it had been and Charley felt heat curl in the center of her body. “What?” She couldn’t seem to take her eyes from his. 23
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“Who do you want to draw up the contract, your lawyer or mine?” “Oh.” Somehow, she managed to extract her hand from his. “I guess yours can do it, and then I’ll have mine go over it. After I read it, of course.” “Of course.” If he intended to say anything else, his words were cut off by a beeping noise coming from his pocket. “Excuse me.” He pulled a cell phone out and flipped it open. “Cole Jordan.” Charley leaned over the plans again, trying to at least give him some semblance of privacy. “She did? No, that’s fine, Robert. Here’s the deal. I know there’s a lot of yard to take care of, but I’ll pay you ten dollars an hour during the summer. When school starts back, you can put in a few hours once or twice a week in the evenings, and all day Saturdays. How does that sound?” He listened for a second and then laughed. “Sure. You can start Monday, and bring your swimming trunks.” There was another pause. “Of course you can use the pool. That’s what it’s for. Just give me fair warning if you plan on deluging me with your buddies. See you Monday.” He shut the phone and returned it to his pocket. “Sorry for the interruption, but I told Robert to call me today. I didn’t want to disappoint him.” “Robert?” Charley glanced up in curiosity. “Robert Stockton. I met him in town yesterday.” “I know him. He’s a very nice boy. His father owns the garage.” She hesitated. “You’ve already rented a house?” “No, I bought one.” For the first time today, he was the one who seemed uncomfortable. “I bought the Carstairs house.” The blood drained from her face and the room started to spin. “I see,” she said stiffly. “I’m sure you’re happy about that. I know how much you liked the house. Excuse me. I think I need to visit the ladies room.” She fled like the hounds of hell were on her heels, not caring what he thought. Words from long ago chased through her memory. “Marry me, Charley. Someday I’ll buy the house for you, I promise. We’ll spend our life there, together.” God, she had been so happy, and so stupid. She slammed through the bathroom door and leaned her forehead against the mirror, trying to force the words away. At least he’d kept part of that promise, she thought, a sob escaping from deep inside. He’d bought the house. He just hadn’t bought if for her. He was going to be living in it alone. How was she going to go back in there and face him, knowing they would both be remembering? She had to, and she couldn’t let him see how much it affected her. Turning on the cold water, she splashed it on her face, then dried and looked at her image in the mirror. She was way too pale. Pinching her cheeks until they were red, she checked again. Better. Not perfect, but better. At least she didn’t look like death on a platter now. Taking a deep breath, she left the bathroom.
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Cole was standing with his hands in his pockets, his back to the door, studying some old flyers that were tacked to a bulletin board on the wall. Something about his stance made her hesitate in the door. “Yoo-hoo! Anyone here?” “Frannie!” Charley almost sagged with relief at the sight of her cousin. She wouldn’t have to face him alone after all. Cole had turned at Frannie’s voice and a flash of annoyance crossed his face, gone so rapidly she wasn’t even sure she’d seen it. Frannie came to a halt by her side. “I stopped by your house. When you weren’t there, I figured you must be shredding the books again, so I thought I’d drop by and give you some moral support.” Frannie winked at her. Charley grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the room. “Actually, we were just having a business meeting. Frannie, this is Cole Jordan. He’s the man I sold half of the Red Dog to. Cole, this is Frannie Hart, my cousin. She moved to Canyon Bend a few years ago from Texas.” “I know you,” Frannie said. “You were here last night.” Charley watched as Frannie gave him her best ‘you’ve-come-to-the-right-place’ smile. “That’s right. If I remember correctly, you informed me that not all women were panting to grab a husband.” Cole’s expression was bland. “Oops.” Frannie had the grace to blush. “You really can’t blame me for that. I thought you were hitting on Charley.” Charley felt Cole’s gaze run over her. When she looked at him, he was studying her face. “I suppose that’s understandable.” His glance moved back to Frannie. “So tell me, Frannie. Can you type?” “Yes. Why?” “Know anything about computers?” “Yes, of course.” “Congratulations. You have just been promoted to Charley’s executive assistant. With an appropriate increase in salary, naturally.” “I have?” She looked at Charley in confusion. “I have?” “Looks like it.” Charley glared at Cole. “You do know this means I’m going to be short a waitress?” Cole picked up a pad of paper and pencil and handed them to Frannie. “Start writing. First thing on the agenda, put an ad in the paper for a new waitress. Then, order lunch. We can eat while we work. After lunch, I want you to go buy office furniture. Also, buy four computers. Tell them you want everything here tomorrow.” He pulled his wallet out and extracted a credit card. “Here, put everything on this. Oh, and while you’re at it, get cell phones for both of you. I want to be able to reach you at any time.”
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Charley watched Frannie write furiously, trying to keep up with the orders, and sighed. When had she lost control? Had she ever had it? She took a quick look at Cole. He was watching her again, and the intense look in his eyes made her go still. Suddenly, he smiled. Her heart and stomach collided, landing in a pitiful heap somewhere near her toes. Oh, God. She was in so much trouble.
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Chapter Four “Well, that’s the last of them.” Charley looked up as Cole parked the dolly next to the storage room. “Good.” It had taken them most of the afternoon to empty out and clean the three rooms that he wanted to turn into office space. They had been long, agonizing hours for Charley, watching the ripple of Cole’s muscles as he hoisted box after box and loaded them on the dolly. She glanced at her watch. “I need to run. I’ve got just enough time to shower and change before opening tonight.” “Isn’t there someone else who can handle it? You’ve been at it all day. Why don’t you take the night off?” “Well, I suppose Frank could cover for me. It is Thursday, so we won’t have that much business.” She chewed her lip, thinking. Not only was she physically exhausted, she was mentally ready to collapse. The lure of a long, hot soak in the tub was more than she could stand. “Okay, I’ll call him as soon as I get home.” Cole nodded. “I’m on my way out, too. I’ve still got some things to take care of at home.” Home, Charley thought. To the house that should have been theirs. Feeling like she’d spent most of the day on the emotional equivalent of a tilt-a-whirl, she followed him out, waiting while he locked the door. “Nice car.” She stared at the Jag. Why did it seem so awkward to just get in the truck and leave? “Thanks. I’ll let you drive it sometime.” Her gaze snapped back to his. Was he serious? She’d only been trying to make conversation. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s only a car.” He smiled slightly and opened the truck door for her. “See you tomorrow evening.” “Evening? I thought you were going to work here tomorrow morning, getting the offices ready?” “I am, but it won’t take long. Frannie will be here, so there’s not much sense in you standing around all day and then working all night, too.” “You may be sorry you sent Frannie on this particular errand. She has, well, let’s just say ‘odd taste’ in some things. Her apartment looks like a refugee from a hippie commune lives there. To her, an easy chair is one of those god-awful, lime-colored beanbag things, and she has beads hanging in every doorway.”
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Charley stuck the key in the ignition and gave it a turn. The starter clicked, but the motor refused to respond. “As long as she gets the basics, I can live with the decor.” He was watching closely as she tried to start the truck. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She turned the key again with the same results. “Pop the hood.” “That’s not necessary, really. It’ll start in a minute.” She tried again, and then pulled the hood release in resignation. Cole moved around to the front and vanished from sight, but she could hear him tinkering with something on the engine. His head reappeared. “Try it now.” The motor turned over on the first try, and he shut the hood. “What did you do?” “You had a loose battery cable, but if you plan on keeping this thing, you really need to have the points and plugs changed and the timing set.” “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” She backed up and headed out of the parking lot. In her rearview mirror, Cole’s image watched the truck until she turned onto the highway.
***** Charley leaned back in the now cool water, her head cushioned on the pile of hair she’d pinned up. Instead of relaxing, she’d spent the whole time in the tub going over every word Cole had spoken and every move he’d made. When she closed her eyes, he was there, his face tormenting her, making her tenser. All she had managed to do was get waterlogged. She pulled the stopper out with her toes then reached for a towel. After sliding into a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, she padded into the kitchen. Nothing in the fridge looked appealing, and she didn’t feel like going out again. Just when she’d decided to open yet another can of soup, the back door flew open and Frannie danced in. “Put that can opener down. I come bearing gifts.” She held up a pizza box with one hand and waved two bottles of wine with the other. “We are going to celebrate!” Charley eyed the wine. “Celebrate what?” “My promotion and salary increase, and the fact that you are going to be one rich lady.” “Somehow, I doubt I’ll ever be rich.” She watched Frannie pour the rich red wine, and then sat down at the table, taking the glass nearest her. “Did you go by the saloon?” “Yep. As your new executive assistant, I thought it was my duty,” she said loftily. “Besides, that’s where I got the wine. Frank has everything under control. Dig in.” She scooted the pizza box closer to Charley.
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“It’s going to take two full bottles of wine to celebrate?” Cheese strung onto Frannie’s chin as she took a bite. “You, dear cousin,” she mumbled around a mouthful, “need to relax.” “I’m not tense.” Frannie guffawed. “If you were wound any tighter, your panties would cut you in half. I’m here to see that you ease up, even if I have to get you drunk to do it.” “We can’t get drunk. We both have to work tomorrow.” Charley sipped the wine and Frannie immediately refilled her glass to brimming. “They aren’t delivering the office furniture until eleven, and Cole told me not to come in until then. You don’t have to be there until tomorrow night. Now, no more excuses.” “Fine. You win.” Charley drained her glass and let Frannie fill it again. “But I am not tense. What possible reason could I have? Everything is going just fine.” “Oh, come on. Who do you think you’re kidding? This is Frannie, remember? Every time Cole Jordan looked at you today you got goose bumps the size of Mt. Everest. And when he touched your arm while showing you where the pantry would be in the restaurant? Your eyes bugged out so far you looked like one of those cartoon characters.” “Oh, God.” Charley dropped her face into her hands. “I’m so humiliated. Do you think he noticed?” “Is he blind, deaf and stupid?” “No.” “Then my guess would be, he noticed.” Frannie stood, grabbing the wine and both glasses. “Let’s move into the living room so we can prop our feet up.” The room spun a little as Charley followed, but it was a pleasant sensation, and she could feel her tight muscles beginning to ease. “How much of that stuff have I had?” Frannie looked at the bottle critically before sinking onto the couch. “About three glasses, I think. You did drink them kind of fast though.” She patted the couch next to her. “Now, sit down and tell me all about it.” Charley flopped onto the sofa and picked up her glass. “What am I going to do, Frannie? I’ve been in love with him since grade school.” She took another long drink. “That’s the reason you don’t date. I knew it! You are still in love with him!” “I don’t know any other way to be.” “You could just give in to it. God knows, he’s a hunk. A roll in the hay would do you a world of good.” “Don’t be stupid. After what he did to me, I can’t trust him. I don’t even know if he’s married, or engaged, or seeing someone.” She finished her wine, and groaned. “How am I going to face him every day and stay sane?” “Did he do or say anything today that might make you think he’s interested?”
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“No.” She frowned. “Not really. Well, maybe.” “Which is it? Yes or no?” “No.” Charley sighed. When had Frannie refilled her glass? She stared at it, her forehead wrinkling in an effort to concentrate. “Well, in that case, I wouldn’t worry about it. In a month or two, you’ll be so used to having him around that you won’t even think about it.” “Two months?” Charley downed her wine in one gulp, and then squinted to see Frannie better. “I have to feel like this for two months?” Unsteadily, she held out her glass. “More.” “Okay, but if you throw up, you’re on your own. Wine wasn’t meant to be guzzled.” She poured. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I really like Cole.” “Oh, sure. You get a promotion, a raise, and free use of his credit card. Why wouldn’t you like him?” Wine sloshed over the edge of her glass as she waved her hand for emphasis. “What do I get? Someone to boss me around and break my heart all over again. Well, it’s not going to happen. I’m a big girl now.” “The biggest,” Frannie agreed. “I mean that figuratively, of course,” she hastily assured when Charley glared at her. “Are you drunk?” Charley attempted to arch one brow and only managed to cross her eyes instead. Frannie fell over on the couch giggling. “Not as drunk as you are, but give me a minute. I’ll catch up.” “Do you know what that bastard did to me?” “You mean besides break your heart and leave you?” “Yeah,” Charley nodded. “Besides that. He bought my house. My house!” She poked herself in the chest with one finger and then rubbed the spot. “He promised me we’d live in that house together, and now he’s bought it for himself.” “The bastard,” Frannie agreed solemnly. Suddenly she sat up straight. “You know what we should do? We should go toilet paper his yard.” “Oh, that’s good,” Charley stared at her with admiration. “No, wait. We can’t. You’re too drunk to drive.” “Good point. Okay, I’ve got it. Let’s go toilet paper Ben’s yard. He’s a male too, and it’s only two blocks to his house. We can walk that.” “He’ll arrest us.” “No, he won’t. I’ll refuse to marry him if he does.” Charley lurched to her feet and turned in a complete circle. “I’ll get my shoes, you get the toilet paper.” Frannie took her by the shoulders and aimed her at the hall. “Your room is that way.” “Right. I knew that.” She was upended in the closet when Frannie yelled at her.
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“Hey, Charley. You only have two rolls left.” Summoning all her power of rational thought, Charley sat down in the closet floor, swatting at something that tickled her face. “Then take a few bars of soap, too,” she yelled back. “We can put pictures on the windows of his patrol car.” “Gotcha. Ready to go?” “Ready.” Charley limped back into the living room. Frannie stared at her for a second. “Nice outfit.” “Thanks,” she replied, pleased. It wasn’t often that her and Frannie’s taste in clothes coincided. “I’ll get the wine.” “Now, remember. We have to be quiet.” The phone rang, and Charley hesitated. “I’ll get it. Might be Frank.” She limped to the phone.
***** “How did it go today?” Cole looked up as Kristy stopped in the living room doorway, her arms loaded with books. “I honestly have no idea. One minute I’d think everything was going to work out fine, and the next she’d almost take my head off.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Am I doing the right thing, Kristy? Maybe I should just tell her the truth.” “Would she believe you?” Kristy put the books on the coffee table and sat down. “No, she wouldn’t. Would you, in her place? She thinks Victor Channing is the next best thing to Jesus.” He shook his head. “You should have seen her reaction when I told her I bought this house. I think stabbing her would have hurt less, for both of us.” “Cole, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Are you going to give up after one day?” “I didn’t know how much it was going to hurt, Kris. If it were just me, I could handle it, but I can’t stand to see her hurting, too.” “Hey, if she’s hurting, it’s because she still cares. Do you want to take a chance that you’ll lose her for good? Because if you give up now, you will. This is both of your futures on the line. Are you going to trade the chance to be with her forever just to spare her a few minutes of hurt?” She hesitated. “Cole, it’s pretty rare in this day and age to find someone you can really love. Don’t throw it away. At the very least, give it a few more days. She’s still in shock over seeing you again. I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t you call her? Maybe it will help you decide what to do.” “Oh, sure. What reason could I have for calling her? I’m not supposed to be interested, remember?” She grinned at him. “You’re the genius. Think of a reason.” She scooped up the books. “I’m going to be upstairs reading. Yell if you want me.”
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He listened to her footsteps running up the stairs and then looked at the phone. Should he? God knows, he wanted to hear her voice, even if she was yelling at him. He could always say he’d called to find out who handled her legal work. It was something he’d need to know eventually, anyway. Picking up the phone, he dialed before he could change his mind. Four rings later, someone finally picked up. “Lo?” The voice sounded unnaturally bright and chipper. Cole hesitated. “Charley?” “Yep. Thaz me.” Suspicion began to creep over him. “Charley, have you been drinking?” “Celebratin’,” she clarified. He grinned and leaned back on the couch. “What are you celebrating?” “Frannie’s promu…raise. Have to go now. Frannie is waitin’ on me.” “Hang on! Where are you going?” She giggled. “To Ben’s house. Ssh. Don’t tell anyone. We’re going to trash his yard.” “Why are you going to trash Ben’s yard?” “Cause he’s a man, and all men are pigs. You’re a pig, Cole. Did you know that?” There was a loud crash accompanied by a thud, and then laughter. “Charley? Are you still there?” Silence. “Charley?” “I’m here.” She laughed again. “Got the phone cord wrapped around me. I fell.” “Are you all right?” More silence. “My feet don’t work right,” she finally answered him. She sounded more puzzled than upset, he decided. “Charley, listen to me. I’m coming over there. Don’t leave, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Promise you won’t move.” “I won’t move.” A loud click sounded, and then the dial tone. She’d hung up. Damn. Cole struggled into the boots he’d pulled off earlier, praying Charley wouldn’t leave the house. “Kristy! I’m going to Charley’s,” he yelled up the stairs. Without waiting to see if she heard him, he grabbed his keys and ran out the door. The drive to Charley’s house was the longest in his life. He’d probably broken every speed limit law in the county. Relief welled inside him as he brought the Jag to a skidding halt. Both vehicles were still in Charley’s driveway. At least the women weren’t attempting to drive. As he started up the walk, the silence from Charley’s house was a little unnerving. From what he’d heard on the phone, he’d expected to at least hear laughter. The front door was ajar and he pushed on it, stepping inside. Frannie was sprawled on the couch, clutching toilet paper and several bars of soap to her chest, snoring contentedly. Charley was sitting on the floor, the phone next to
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her, an empty wine bottle in one hand. Another empty sat on the coffee table. She looked up at him in surprise. “How did you do that?” Cole smiled and squatted in front of her. “How did I do what?” “I was just talking to you on the phone.” “I know. You hung up on me.” “I did? Good. You deserve it, cause you’re a pig and all pigs are men.” “If all pigs are men, where do baby pigs come from?” “Don’t try to confuse me with all that sex stuff. You used to do that all the time.” He resisted the temptation to pull her into his arms, but it was a hard-won battle. Instead he brushed her hair away from her cheek. To think, thirty minutes ago he had been ready to give up. Now he knew the truth. He would never give her up. “You remember that, do you?” “I remember everything.” She peered up at him. “Is that why you got drunk tonight, Charley?” “Frannie made me. I told you, we were celebratin’. And my panties were cutting me in half.” Cole laughed. “I’m not even going to ask. Come on, let’s get you up and into bed.” “I can’t walk. There’s something wrong with my feet.” “I’ll carry you. If I can get you untangled from the phone cord.” He finally had to unplug the phone to get the job done, with Charley hanging on to him for support. When they were finished, he scooped her up, and for a second just held her close. Her arms curled around his neck, and she buried her face against him. “Frannie says I need a roll in the hay.” Cole almost dropped her. “Oh, really? Did she offer any suggestions as to who with?” “You.” “Remind me to double her salary,” he mumbled. “Not gonna happen, though.” She snuggled up tighter against him as he moved down the hall. “Why is that?” He found her room by the process of elimination. One room had been turned into an office. The other was too bare and clean. The third was the only room that looked lived in. “Cause I don’t love you anymore. And even if I did, you’d just leave again. Can’t let you do that to me twice. I’m not that stupid.” Cole sat her on the bed. At some point in the evening, she’d managed to drape a red lace slip around her neck. He pulled it over her head and tossed it to one side. “What if I told you I wouldn’t leave again, Charley?” His voice was soft, and for a second he didn’t think she had heard him. 33
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“I wouldn’t believe you. You left before, you will again.” She collapsed backwards across the bed. He sighed. “I was afraid you’d feel that way. But sooner or later you’re going to know the truth.” When he bent to pull her shoes off, he grinned. No wonder she’d thought there was something wrong with her feet. She was wearing a three-inch spiked heel on one foot and a canvas sneaker on the other. Carefully, he straightened her out on the bed and pulled a blanket over her. “Cole?” She caught his hand and held on. He sat down next to her and cupped her cheek with his other hand. “What is it, Charley?” “I’ve missed you.” Cole squeezed his eyes shut reflexively as pain shot through him. Charley was limp, her breathing regular. “I’ve missed you, too, baby,” he whispered. “You’ll never know how much. And as hard as it will be to wait, I’ll give you all the time you need to trust me again. I won’t push you.” He leaned over and brushed her lips with his. “I love you, Charley.”
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Chapter Five Charley’s eyes popped open and then slammed shut again as the bright sunlight hit them. A groan escaped her dry lips. She felt like she’d been in a car wreck. And the dreams she’d had. Her eyelids flew up again. Dreams. Cole. Oh, God. “Frannie!” Panic tinged her voice and she hit the floor running. “Frannie!” Her cousin was sprawled on the couch, snoring. “Frannie!” She grabbed her by the shirt and shook. “What!” Frannie sat up so rapidly that toilet paper and soap sailed across the room. “Was Cole here last night? Oh, God.” She shook her again. “This is all your fault! I never should have listened to you!” “Just give me a sec, here, okay?” She swatted Charley’s hands away and screwed her face up in thought. “No, he wasn’t here. But you did talk to him on the phone. At least, I think that’s who you were talking to. I have this vague memory of you telling him he was a pig.” “Oh, God.” Charley slid down the side of the couch and landed on the floor with a thump. “That’s bad enough. The rest must have been a dream, thank heavens. I’ll never touch wine again as long as I live. My head is killing me.” Frannie swung her legs off the couch. “Take some aspirin, and drink lots of fluids. Man, I’m stiff. I don’t think I moved all night. What time is it?” Charley pointed at the clock. “After nine.” “Then I’m out of here. I have to run home and take a shower.” Her gaze swept over Charley. “You look like roadkill. Why don’t you go back to bed?” “I think I will.” She climbed to her feet. “You’re absolutely sure Cole wasn’t here last night?” “Think about it. Why would he have been here?” “I guess you’re right. But it sure seemed real.” “What time are you coming in to work?” “Probably a few hours earlier than normal. Since I didn’t work last night, there are things I need to do.” “Okay, take it easy and I’ll see you later.” “Bye.” She winced when the door slammed. Time to find those aspirin. With her mind still on the dream, she poured a glass of orange juice and carried it into the bathroom. He had been so gentle, so caring. He had been the Cole she remembered and loved. Which just proved that it really had been a dream. She’d certainly seen no signs of that Cole since he’d returned, and it was a good thing she hadn’t. It was hard enough
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to be around him now, but it was better than putting up with a caring front when she knew he couldn’t care less. She couldn’t bear that. Stripping out of her wrinkled clothing, Charley climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets up. Sleep was long in coming, but just before she drifted off, she raised one hand to her mouth, fingers tracing her lips. The kiss had felt so real.
***** The pickup gave a final hiccup and then died as Charley parked it behind the Red Dog. She really was going to have to do something about the truck. It was getting worse every day. Frannie’s yellow VW Bug was parked beside Cole’s Jaguar. Good. That meant she wouldn’t have to be alone with him. Gathering her nerve, she went through the back door and paused, trying to decide what to do. Frannie saved her the trouble. Her cousin popped out of the room next to her office and motioned. “Come look! This is so great!” Charley stepped into the room, stopped and gaped. She couldn’t believe it was the same room she’d just left yesterday. A huge “L” shaped desk took up almost two sides of the room, with what looked like every high-tech gadget known to man residing on top of it. On the other wall, below a modern art poster, sat a copy machine the size of a Buick. A plush carpet in pastel pink covered the floor. “Good Lord, Frannie, how much did you spend?” “Isn’t it great? You haven’t seen anything yet! Come on, you got new stuff, too.” “I did? But I liked my stuff!” “You’ll like this even better. Once you get used to it.” Frannie dragged her down the hall and pushed her office door open, standing back so Charley could see. “Voilà!” “Oh. My. God.” She took a step into the room. Her office had vanished. In its place was one that made Frannie’s look like a poor relation. The carpet was dove gray, and the scenic painting that spanned most of the wall was done in shades of silver, pink and pastel blues. The desk, a massive thing that took up the center of the room, appeared to be solid oak. “You did this?” “Well, I had some help from Cole,” Frannie said modestly. “The color scheme was his idea, too. I was thinking more like red and black.” “Look at this!” Charley gestured at the electronic equipment in dismay. “I don’t even know what half of it is! How am I supposed to use it?” “I’ll show you.” The voice was deep, male and deadly familiar. Her stomach tightened. Cole. Charley spun around to face him. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned casually in the doorway. Instantly, her gaze dropped to his mouth and her cheeks flushed red. “Well, back to work!” With a grin, Frannie left them alone.
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“If you don’t like it, we can change it.” “No, I love it. It’s just…I don’t know. It must have cost a fortune.” “It will pay for itself.” His gaze ran over her. “Feeling better today?” Charley felt her face getting hotter. “About that phone call. I usually don’t drink. Did I make a total idiot out of myself?” “You don’t remember?” “Not really, no. Just a kind of blurry impression.” “Well, other than telling me I was a pig, you didn’t disgrace yourself. And I actually got the impression that you pretty much thought all men were pigs, not just me.” “What were you calling about?” “To find out who does your legal work. My lawyer needs to know.” “Oh. I use Hilary Payne. She has an office in Canyon Bend.” “Okay.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to meet the contractor at the hotel site in a few minutes. I’ll show you how to use the computer Monday. Have a good weekend.” “Thanks, you too.” As soon as he left, she collapsed into the chair, and immediately had the urge to jump back up. In an office like this, she should be wearing a three-piece, doublebreasted suit with pin stripes, not jeans and a T-shirt with the Red Dog logo emblazoned on the front. Her gaze moved around the office in disbelief and settled on the shiny new computer. The computer. That he was going to teach her to use. She groaned. Pinned up with him, alone, practically shoulder to shoulder for hours. Or worse, leaning over her, breathing against her neck. That’s all she needed. But at least she had a few days’ grace to get a grip on herself. “Frannie!” Her voice echoed down the hall. “Yes, ma’am?” Her cousin’s voice came from directly in front of her, and Charley almost jumped out of the chair. What the heck? As though she could see her, Frannie’s voice came again. “It’s that black box on your desk. Just hold down the button and you can talk.” Tentatively, Charley pushed it down. “This one?” “That’s it. What did you want?” “I want you to get your butt in here. Now!” Two seconds later Frannie came through the door, both hands full. “I forgot to give you this last night.” She handed Charley a black cell phone. “Mine is hot pink, but I didn’t figure you’d go for that. The numbers are in your Rolodex.” Charley clutched her head. “I have a Rolodex? Wait. Never mind. You have to help me. You have to teach me how to use this stuff before Monday.”
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“I can’t. I don’t have time, and neither do you. Cole gave me a list four miles long of things to do, and you’ve got two applicants for my old job to interview. They should be here any minute now. What’s the big rush?” She glared at her cousin. “Cole is planning on teaching me how to use it Monday. That’s what the rush is. Frannie, I can’t stay in here with him, alone, for hours. And I thought you were my executive assistant, not his.” “Right now, you don’t have anything for me to do. He does.” She perched on the edge of the desk. “Charley, you’re going to have to get used to having him around. Either drag the man to bed for however long it takes to get him out of your system, or forget about him. Want me to buy you a box of condoms?” “No!” Charley dropped her head into her hands again. “I can’t believe you said that.” Frannie shrugged. “You never know when you’ll need them. Better safe than sorry.” “I won’t need them,” Charley gritted her teeth. “Ever.” Someone knocked on the back door and Frannie stood. “That must be your first appointment. I’ll bring her in. Applications are in the top right drawer.” “Fine. Thanks for your help.” “Anytime.” Frannie grinned over her shoulder as she left.
***** Cole cursed himself soundly as he pushed open the doors of the Red Dog. He had planned to stay away until Monday, yet here he was, drawn back to the flame like a moth with a death wish. It looked like he wasn’t the only one. People were packed in like sardines, the noise level deafening. It made the crowd from Wednesday night look like a slow evening at a gum disease seminar. He shouldered his way through the mob, choosing the bar instead of a table, his gaze automatically searching for Charley. It didn’t take him long to spot her. After only two hours of being open, she looked exhausted. “Charley!” He had to yell to make her hear him. She looked up, a frazzled expression on her face, and paused. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you again until after the weekend.” “I got bored. I’m not used to having nothing to do on the weekends. Where’s Frank? He should be helping you with this crowd.” She shook her head. “His mother was hospitalized this afternoon. He couldn’t leave her.” Cole pulled his jacket off and started around the bar. “What are you doing?”
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“You can’t keep up this pace by yourself.” He rolled up his sleeves. “I don’t have anything else to do, so I may as well help.” She gave him a tired grin. “Do you know how to mix drinks?” “I think I can manage most of them.” “What are you going to do when someone asks you for a Screaming Orgasm?” She slid a mug of beer down the bar into a customers waiting hand and turned to fill another glass. “Faint?” He arched a brow at her in question. Charley laughed. “Okay, I really can use the help, but if someone wants a drink you’ve never heard of, call me.” “You have my solemn promise.” Picking up a towel from behind her, Charley tossed it at him. “Here, you’ll need this.” Cole put it over his shoulder, the same way she had hers, just as a waitress stopped in front of him. “Three drafts, one Margarita, and a Strawberry Daiquiri.” Charley nodded at him. “You get the drafts, I’ll do the blender drinks.” “Okay.” The space behind the bar had only been designed for one person at a time, and as he slid past her, her derrière brushed against the front of his jeans. An instant bolt of electricity ran all the way up his spine, meeting the blood that was racing due south. The resultant collision made every nerve in his body sizzle. Instinctively, he put one hand on her shoulder to brace himself before making it by. “Sorry,” he mumbled. When she didn’t respond, he glanced up. Seemingly frozen in place, her face was even more flushed than it had been, and her lips were slightly parted. His gaze moved to her eyes and held there. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his whole life. He forced himself back to the business at hand, and pushed a mug under the beer spigot. “I see you hired someone to replace Frannie.” In spite of his effort, his voice came out husky. She cleared her throat. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I hired both of the women I talked to today. The other one has experience tending bar. She starts Monday. I thought she could take my place here so I’d be able to help with the restaurant when we start building it.” “Good idea.” He put the first two mugs on the tray and filled the third. Charley added the mixed drinks and the waitress whisked them away. For the next thirty minutes, Cole spent almost as much time figuring out where everything was as he did helping. There was a rhythm and an art to serving drinks, he decided. So far, the art had escaped him, but he was beginning to pick up the rhythm when a pair of blue eyes, framed by red hair confronted him very directly from across the bar.
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“Hi there.” Her voice was throaty, and her jeans looked as though they had been painted on. The middy blouse she wore barely covered her breasts as she draped herself across the bar. “Hello, yourself.” Cole smiled at her, and saw her eyes light with even more interest. “What can I get you?” “A light beer. Don’t want to add any more pounds than I have to, you know.” His gaze skimmed over her as he slid the beer across the bar. “Doesn’t look to me like you’ve got anything to worry about.” “You’re sweet. I don’t remember seeing you here before. Are you new?” “Just started tonight.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Charley pause to listen. “What’s your name, sweetie?” “Cole.” She stuck her hand across the bar. “Hi Cole. I’m Marcie.” Cole shook her hand briefly. “Nice to meet you, Marcie.” She took a sip of her beer. “So, do they give you a dinner break in this place, Cole? I wouldn’t mind a little company.” He flashed her his sexiest grin and motioned her forward, leaning across the bar to meet her. “Sorry,” he whispered. “The boss is a real bear about fraternizing with the customers. I don’t want to lose the job after one night.” Marcie laughed. “I know what you mean,” she whispered back. “When you get a night off, call me. Everyone here knows me. Just ask and they can give you my number.” “I’ll think about it.” He winked at her, and watched as she turned and wiggled away into the crowd. He almost jumped when Charley slammed an order down next to him. “If you’re done socializing,” she snapped, “I need four drafts.” “Yes, ma’am,” he said mildly. “Coming right up.” As soon as her back was turned, he grinned.
***** At two in the morning, as the last of the staff straggled out the door, Charley was totally disgusted with herself but still fuming. Cole, now whistling cheerfully as he helped her clean up, had apparently felt no qualms about flirting with every female in sight. Every female except her, she amended. All she got was that cool indifference. And why did she even care? It certainly wasn’t as if she had any plans where he was concerned. He was perfectly free to see anyone he wanted. Savagely, she rubbed the countertop down. “You know, tending bar isn’t what I expected it to be,” Cole mused. “I actually had fun tonight. If Frank can’t make it tomorrow night, call me. I’ll be glad to help again.” 40
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“Thanks, but no thanks.” She practically spit the words. “If I need any more help I’ll call the new bartender and see if she can start early.” Doing her best to ignore him, she stomped to the front doors and locked them, then grabbed her purse. “Goodnight.” “I’ll walk out with you.” “That’s not necessary.” “It is unless you expect me to spend the night in here. My car is out front and you locked the door.” “Fine.” She locked the door behind them and climbed into her truck, well aware that he had stopped and was watching her. With a silent prayer, she put the key in and turned it. Nothing. Not so much as a click resulted. “Please don’t do this to me now,” she begged. Still nothing. Charley pounded her head on the steering wheel. “If you don’t start,” she threatened, “I am personally taking you to the junk yard tomorrow and inserting you in a car masher.” “It would probably be the merciful thing to do. Come on and I’ll give you a ride home.” His voice came from right beside her. “I’ll call a cab,” she gritted, climbing out of the truck. “Don’t be silly. There’s no reason to wait on a cab when I have a car here.” “I don’t want to interrupt your plans.” Sarcasm oozed from her. “Plans? What plans?” “With Marcie.” She turned and headed for the door. “Marcie?” She stopped to glare at him. “Red hair, skin-tight clothes?” “Oh, yeah. Marcie.” A smug grin spread across his face and Charley had to restrain herself from knocking it clear into the next county. “Why would you think I had plans with her? She’s not my type.” He took her arm and began guiding her around the building. “You sure seemed to enjoy looking. Not to mention flirting with her.” Cole shrugged. “I’m only human. Flirting is fun, and looking is pleasurable. That doesn’t mean I want a sample of the goods.” She saw his eyes glint in the moonlight as he glanced at her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.” She came to an abrupt halt, her anger rapidly hitting the boiling point. “Why, you conceited, arrogant bastard!” Without thinking, she swung at him. He caught her hand effortlessly and used it to pull her against him. “You’re starting to repeat yourself, Charley. You really should expand your vocabulary.” In spite of their intimate position, his voice was cool again, and a new surge of rage hit her. She wanted to rattle him, wipe that indifference away. She wanted him to feel at least a little of what she felt. 41
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Her hands locked at his nape before burying themselves in his hair, pulling his head down, her lips meeting his. Liquid heat ignited in her veins as Cole’s arms tightened around her convulsively. Suddenly, he went still as she continued to kiss him, his mouth warm, and firm, and unmoving under hers. Desperate for a response, she bit gently on his lips and then teased them with her tongue. Was that a tremor she felt run though him? In triumph, she started to redouble her efforts, but before she could, he gently pulled her hands loose and lifted her away. “It’s late and we’re both tired. I think it’s time to get you home.” Without another word, he turned and headed for his car. Charley stared at his retreating back in shock. Oh, God. What had she done?
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Chapter Six Cole sat in the breakfast nook, right ankle crossed over left knee, and stared out the window at the surrounding mountains. He’d alternately been kicking and congratulating himself the entire weekend on how he’d handled Charley’s kiss. At the moment, he was back to kicking, even though he knew she had only kissed him out of anger. That wasn’t what he wanted. When Charley came to him, it had to be because she loved him, because she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He would settle for nothing less. It had been so hard, though, to push her away, when all he’d wanted to do was bury himself in her scent, in the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against his. He had waited so damn long. And he had come so awfully close to losing control. There was no one to blame but himself. He had known exactly what he was doing flirting with all those women, even though he hadn’t been interested in any of them. Some part of him had wanted to make Charley jealous, wanted a reaction. He’d just gotten more of one than he’d bargained for, and it had almost been his undoing. What little sleep he’d gotten since then had been riddled with dreams of her, and each time, he’d wakened in agony, his body throbbing with need. He picked up his now cold coffee, took a sip, then rubbed his eyes tiredly. The trip to her house had been made in total silence, the tension so thick it would have taken an arc welder to cut through it. As soon as he’d stopped the car, she had jumped out and run, hitting her front door as though she planned on going right through without opening it first. “Are you still brooding?” Cole glanced at Kristy as she stopped at the coffee pot and poured a cup. “I’m not brooding. I’m thinking.” “You’re brooding. You have been all weekend.” She took a sip of the hot coffee. “I thought you’d be gone by now. It’s after nine. You’re usually out of here by seven.” “I decided to go in late today.” The truth was, he was still trying to decide how to act when he got there. She nodded. “Want me to pick Mrs. Paulson up from the airport?” “If you don’t mind.” “Not at all. I don’t have to be at Duncan Mills until this afternoon. Besides, I’d drive to hell and back if it meant I didn’t have to eat my own cooking anymore.” With a cheery wave, she headed out of the room, taking her cup with her. Immediately, his thoughts turned back to Charley. He had to make a decision instead of spending the day brooding at home. There was really only one thing he could
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do. Just go on like he had been and take his cue from Charley’s manner today. If she wanted to talk about it, she’d let him know. Mentally bracing himself, he headed for the Red Dog. Charley’s truck was nowhere in sight when he got there. Instead, parked in the place it normally sat was an almost new, silver Blazer. So, Uncle Victor had come to the rescue again. He eyed it for a second and then went in, going straight to his office. The door to Charley’s, he noticed, was tightly shut. He picked up the phone and made one quick call to finalize the plans for the City Council meeting later that night, then took a deep breath and stood. Only silence came from Frannie’s office as he crossed the hall and knocked on Charley’s door. “Come in.” Her voice sounded so resolute and determined that Cole had to fight the urge to grin. She was sitting behind the desk, so stiff and straight it looked like someone had strapped a board to her back. “Ready to go to work? I can show you the basics today before I have to leave.” “Leave?” She hesitated. “Are you going somewhere?” “The City Council meeting. I believe I mentioned it? I still have some things to take care of before tonight.” “Oh, that’s right.” She looked like she’d had even less sleep than he’d gotten. And her eyes were red-rimmed as though she’d been crying. The thought made guilt shoot through him again. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her, make sure nothing ever hurt her again. She picked up a pen and toyed with it, refusing to meet his eyes. “Cole, I think we need to talk.” He pulled a chair out across from her and sat down. “About what?” She licked her lips, but kept her eyes down, her hands twisting the pen so hard he was afraid it was going to snap. “I don’t think this is going to work.” “What isn’t going to work?” “Us.” Her face reddened instantly. “I mean, us working together.” Fear replaced the guilt he’d been feeling. If Charley refused to work with him, all of his dreams and hopes would crash down around him like dust. He tried to keep his voice steady even though his heart was pounding against his ribs like a kettle drum. He’d made a mistake in not responding to her kiss. A big one. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. “Oh? Why not?” Charley stood up and began to pace. “Why not? Because there’s been too much that has happened in the past where you and I are concerned. I’ve tried, I really have, but it just isn’t working. There’s too much stress. I know you can’t leave, so from now on, you can handle anything concerning the new restaurant. The office will be yours during the day. I’ll only be here at night. I think it’s fair that I continue to manage the Red Dog.” Suddenly, inspiration hit Cole. He leaned back in the chair and linked his hands behind his head, studying her. “Fine.”
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Charley spun to stare at him, her eyes wide. “You don’t mind?” He shrugged slightly. “Why should I? I must say, I’m a little disappointed in you, Charley. I really thought you were more of a businesswoman. But I do understand. You simply can’t keep your emotions under control. I suppose it’s a woman thing,” he mused. His gaze came back to hers. “I just overestimated you.” Cole stood. “Why, you…you…” she sputtered. Charley swallowed her words, and forced herself into an icy calm. Slowly, she stalked forward to face him. “I was so right about you,” she gritted. “Not only are you a pig, you’re a male chauvinist pig. You want to know why you don’t have a problem keeping your emotions under control? Because you don’t have any!” The last words were screamed right in his face. Before she could draw another breath, she was wrapped in Cole’s arms, his mouth covering hers, moist and firm and hot. Oh, God. So hot. Her fist balled in his shirt to push him away, fight him. Instead, she pulled him closer, her lips parting involuntarily. He took advantage of the opening, deepening the kiss, his tongue meeting hers. Charley went weak all over at the touch, and a moan whispered deep in her throat. He captured it, held it, and gave it back to her, doubled. For an eternity, he tortured her, slanting his head to reach her better. His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her tightly against his hips, against the arousal that pressed into her stomach, heavy and hard. Only then did his mouth relinquish possession of hers. “Does that feel to you like I don’t have any emotions, Charley?” His voice was a husky whisper. “I’ve never stopped wanting you, and seeing you again has only made it worse. I’ve fought it every day, and I’ll keep on fighting it. It’s a battle I don’t intend to lose.” He released her abruptly and walked out of the office, leaving Charley stunned into silence. As soon as the door swung shut her legs began to shake. Steadying herself with one hand on the edge of the desk, she sank weakly into the chair he had vacated. He wanted her. Oh, God, he really wanted her. A hot shiver ran down her back. Slowly, the corners of her mouth curved up in a smile. He wanted her as badly as she did him. All that cool indifference had been nothing but an act. A heady mixture of joy and elation surged through her and burst from her throat. “Yee-haw!” The shout echoed off the office walls, and Charley clapped her hands over her mouth. In a fit of giggles, she slid limply out of the chair and landed with a thump on her behind. He wasn’t planning on losing the battle, huh? Well, maybe she’d just have something to say about that. For the first time since she’d seen Cole sitting in the bar last Wednesday night, Charley felt completely in control. In the hall outside her office, Cole threw his head back in silent laughter as the sound of her yell died away, his whole body shaking with mirth. He highly suspected that the gauntlet he had flung down in her office had been picked up with a vengeance. And God, he felt good. Stifling his urge to whistle, he slipped into his office, closing the door gently after him.
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***** Two hours later Charley was still having trouble sitting in place. Bubbles of laughter kept sneaking up on her when she least expected them. Even the computer couldn’t bother her. She stared blissfully at the error message on her screen, wondering what, exactly, she had done that was illegal. When Frannie appeared in her door, Charley grinned at her. Her cousin took a slow step inside, stopped, and stared at her. “Okay, woman. Spit that canary out and wipe those feathers off your chin. What the heck happened to you? Last night you were crying over a laxative commercial on TV.” “It was a really sad one,” Charley said, laughing. “They’re all pretty sad, if you ask me. Now what gives?” “Can’t I feel good without you giving me the third degree?” “Well, you have to admit, it’s a rare occurrence lately. Right up there with Halley’s Comet.” Her glance moved around the room. “Where’s Cole? I thought he was going to teach you how to use the equipment today.” “Something came up.” Charley almost spit the words as she convulsed with giggles again. Frannie leaned forward suspiciously and sniffed. “Have you been hitting the wine again?” “Not a drop, I swear.” Charley finally got herself under control. “What did you want?” Frannie lowered herself gracefully into a chair. “Your birthday.” “Okay, you can have it.” “Will you cut it out? You’re scaring me.” Frannie glared at her. “What I meant was, you have one coming up. Now, I know you don’t like parties, but I thought maybe just this once it might be nice.” “Okay.” “Don’t say no yet,” Frannie held up a finger and plowed on with determination. “The Red Dog is going to be closed Thursday, anyway, so they can work on the new parking lot. And we can invite all the staff. They really work hard. They deserve a night of fun.” “Okay.” “Not to mention it would be great public relations what with the improvements to the saloon and the restaurant that will be opening. And I’ll handle everything. I swear.” She ground to an abrupt halt and tilted her head. “Did you just say yes or is my hearing going?” “I said yes, and you’ve already volunteered to do everything. No taking it back now. Just be sure to tell everyone—‘no presents’.”
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“You got it.” She jumped up. “I already have most of it done, but I need to call everyone and let them know.” Charley arched an eyebrow. “What if I had said no?” Frannie grinned. “Then it would have been a surprise party.”
***** Charley stood on tiptoe and put a quick kiss on the cheek of the man in front of her. “Thanks again, Uncle Vic. If you hadn’t loaned me the down payment on the Blazer I’d have been walking.” She smiled briefly at Douglas, her uncle’s personal assistant and constant shadow. At the age of sixty, Victor Channing was even more distinguished-looking than he had been at forty. Still sporting a head full of dark hair only lightly touched by gray, he had the bearing of a man who was used to getting what he wanted. At the moment, he was smiling down at his niece in amused tolerance. “Now, darlin’. I told you, you don’t have to pay me back. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. Let me have the pleasure of spending a little on you. Besides, you’ll get it all when I die, anyway.” Charley shook her head. “No, Uncle Vic. I’m going to pay you back, every cent. I want to do things on my own.” He chucked her under the chin. “You’re too much like your daddy. Charles Hart never knew when to accept help, either.” Before Charley could answer, her attention was drawn by a commotion in the small group that had gathered at the entrance of city hall. Cole had arrived, loaded down with equipment, the largest of which seemed to be a slide projector. He was dressed in a dark suit that fit him so well there was no doubt in her mind it had been made for him. Her stomach roiled in reaction. It should be a sin for a man to look that good, she thought. But then, he always did. In jeans and boots, he looked like an outlaw, just a little too dangerous. He still looked dangerous, but in a more refined way. Several of the people standing around relieved him of his burden, and Charley recognized them as members of the Merchants Association. As they moved toward the front of the room, she turned back to her uncle. “Listen, Uncle Vic. I wanted to talk you before the meeting started.” She glanced at Douglas and lowered her voice. “I know you didn’t much care for Cole when he was younger, but please give him a chance. Not only is he my partner, he’s going to do a lot for this town if you’ll let him.” “Why, sweetie, I don’t know where you got the idea that I didn’t like the boy. It wasn’t his fault that his family didn’t have any money. You don’t really think I’d hold something like that against him, now do you?” Charley smiled at him. “Of course not. You’re one of the kindest men I’ve ever known.” “Thanks, darlin’. But I have to tell you, as a member of the City Council, it’s my duty to do what I think is best for the city. I don’t know if what Cole Jordan has
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planned will help us or hurt us, yet. If I think it will hurt us, I can’t, in good conscience, go along with it.” “All I want is for you to listen, Uncle Vic.” “That I can do,” he said, smiling. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll have a chat with the boy before the meeting starts. Why don’t you find a seat before the place fills up?” Charley found several empty chairs on the second row and chose one that would give her an unimpeded view of the front of the room. Twisting a little on her seat, she watched her uncle approach Cole. “Channing. Douglas.” Cole gave a curt nod as the men stopped in front of him. He saw Channing’s gray eyes sweep over him assessingly. “Jordan. Didn’t expect to see you around these parts again.” Cole gave him a sarcastic grin. “Well, you know what they say about bad pennies.” Most of the crowd had wandered into the main meeting room, leaving them relatively alone in the entry. Over Channing’s shoulder, Cole saw Charley watching. “I know what they say about cats, too. Just because they’re born in an oven doesn’t make them biscuits.” Channing’s face never changed expression, but his voice dropped. “Looks like you’re doing good these days, Jordan. I hear you own half my niece’s business. Not much I can do about that now, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up too high about the rest of these plans you’ve come up with. This town doesn’t need your money. And if you’ve got any ideas about my niece, you can forget those, too. You weren’t good enough for Charley ten years ago, and you still aren’t. Trash is always trash, even if you dress it up in expensive clothes.” Anger washed over Cole in a heated wave even though he’d been braced for something just like this. But he hadn’t gotten rich by letting his emotions get away from him. The smile remained. “I think you’ve forgotten one important thing, Channing. I’m not twenty-one anymore, and I don’t threaten easily. Why don’t you do both of us a favor and save it for the meeting? There may even be a few people who actually care what you have to say.” He stepped around Channing and walked to the front of the room, taking a seat on the first row near the projector, on the other side of the room from Charley. Most of the crowd had started to settle, and he glanced at his watch just as Kristy rushed in and plopped into the seat beside him. “Sorry. Am I late? They had problems with the copy machine, but I finally got them.” She deposited several boxes on the floor in front of them. “You’re in time. I think it will be a few minutes yet.” He leaned toward her. “The tall guy in the dark blue suit is Victor Channing. We had a minor run-in a few minutes ago.” Kristy casually glanced around. “I see him. Who’s the big guy with him?” “That’s Douglas Ashton. He’s Victor’s personal assistant. I was about sixteen when Douglas started working for him.” “Do you think the rest of the council will follow Channing’s lead?”
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“He thinks they will. See the older gentleman, white hair, standing to Channing’s left? That’s Jess Bennett. He’s on the Merchants Association as well as the City Council. With the members of the association here, he’s going to be under a lot of pressure to go along with us.” She smiled up at him smugly. “It’s a good thing you invited the merchants. From the reactions I’ve heard in town, the City Council must have wanted to keep it quiet.” “I’m sure they did. Channing would have loved to make it an executive session to keep people out.” Cole caught the eye of a reporter, who winked at him. Cole grinned back. The man had been instrumental in seeing to it that the council didn’t hide behind closed doors for this. He turned back to Kristy. “Is everyone here?” Her eyes swept the audience again, looking for familiar faces. “I think so.” Suddenly her gaze locked on something to their right. “Man, if looks could kill, I suspect I’d be toes up right about now.” She turned back to face the front. “For both our sakes, you’d better hope Charley doesn’t have a gun in her purse.” Cole threw back his head and laughed. “I’m afraid to look. But don’t worry, she’ll know who you are before the night is over.” “Good, because I just reconsidered volunteering to make her jealous. I’m too young to die.” She took another quick peek. “Who’s the brunette with her?” “Probably Frannie, her cousin.” As the council members took their places, the Mayor pounded his gavel on the table in front of him. Charley was only dimly aware of the noise, and missed his opening remarks completely. Her eyes were fixed on Cole and the blonde with him. “Who’s that with Cole?” Frannie whispered. “She’s gorgeous!” “I have no idea,” Charley whispered back. “I’ve never seen her before.” She suddenly felt Frannie’s gaze on her. “Are you gritting your teeth?” She grinned. “I think a light just came on. You don’t want him, but you don’t want anyone else to have him either.” “Maybe I changed my mind,” Charley muttered. Frannie stared at her. “You and I are going to have a long talk, cousin.” Charley sighed. They could talk all they wanted to, but if the blonde was someone special to Cole how could she hope to compete with the original California Golden Girl? Her gaze swung to Cole’s broad back as he stood and moved to the projector, the dull ache in her middle all too familiar. Why had he reacted to her like he had that morning? She might only have experience from that one occasion, but there were some things a man just couldn’t fake. As slides of scale models, studies, and location shots flashed across the screen at the front of the room, Charley replayed Cole’s kiss in her head. He had said he wanted her, and there was no doubt in her mind that he had been telling the truth. But he’d also said he was going to continue fighting those feelings. She hadn’t thought about why at the time, but maybe she’d just found the reason. Her eyes went to the blonde, then
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returned to Cole just as he faced the audience. Even as he continued to talk, his gaze found hers and held.
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Chapter Seven As Kristy took his place by the projector, Cole let his gaze rest briefly on the spot where Charley sat, and cursed under his breath. She looked upset as hell, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Kristy. No matter how badly he wanted to explain, he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was hope that his plan from this morning hadn’t been ruined, and make sure she was introduced to Kristy before this night was over. It was beginning to feel like he couldn’t do anything right where Charley was concerned. He looked back toward the front, waiting while Kristy explained the plans for Duncan Mills to the council. When the lights came back up, Cole stood. “As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, CJE, Inc. has a lot of plans for this area. It’s going to involve changes for all of you, but in the long run, we think it can only help the economy. If there are any questions, I’ll be more than happy to answer them.” Victor Channing leaned back in his chair. “I believe there are a few, Mr. Jordan. Our streets are just like they have been for the last hundred years. The traffic flow alone will be horrible. I don’t think we’re equipped to deal with something like that.” Cole gestured toward Kristy and she began handing out folders. “What you have in front of you is a proposal drawn up by a city planner who studied Canyon Bend. With the addition of a few traffic lights and some rerouting, there shouldn’t be a traffic problem.” He paused. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear at the beginning of this meeting, and if not, I apologize.” His gaze moved to Channing. “I wasn’t asking your permission to carry out these plans. I’m here merely as a courtesy to let you know what’s about to happen. How you handle those changes is strictly up to you.” Channing smiled. “Well, now, Mr. Jordan. You can’t very well carry out your plans if Canyon Bend doesn’t implement these changes, can you?” “Mr. Channing, that won’t even slow me down. It’s simply a matter of building a relatively short bypass around Canyon Bend. The land already belongs to me and the county has agreed to maintain the road if we turn it over to them after it’s built.” He shrugged. “Of course, that means Canyon Bend won’t receive any of the business we generate, but that’s your problem, not mine.” Cole almost smiled at the low murmur of indignation from the merchants in the audience, and began packing up his equipment. “One last thing. There are several experts here tonight that are willing to work with you and answer any other questions you might have. They’ve agreed to stay after the meeting and talk to anyone who’s interested. In two weeks, if I haven’t heard from you, work will begin on the bypass. Once it’s started, it won’t be stopped, so I suggest you let me know what you’d like to do before then. I’m sure you know where to find me.”
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Without another word, he turned down the center aisle, Kristy following him. As soon as they were outside, Cole stopped. “Damn. I promised myself I wasn’t going to let Channing get next to me.” “I don’t think it was Channing that got next to you. It was Charley—” She broke off abruptly as the door opened behind them. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to apologize for Uncle Victor.” Charley’s gaze moved between them. Cole deposited his load in the back of Kristy’s car. “Why? Are you responsible for his attitude?” “Of course not. Uncle Victor makes up his own mind. But I really believe he just wants to protect Canyon Bend, Cole.” He closed the car door and faced Charley again. Frannie had come out and was standing next to her. “Yeah, good old Victor Channing. Always trying to protect something.” Cole couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.” “I don’t blame you for being upset. I’ll talk to him again. I’m sure he’ll eventually see how much good this will do the city.” Cole’s jaw clenched. “I don’t need you to talk to him. As I pointed out before, there’s nothing he can do to stop me. He may as well find that out now.” He put one hand on Kristy’s arm. “Kristy, this is Charley Hart and her cousin Frannie Hart. This is Kristy McIntire, my executive assistant and soon-to-be stepsister. You’ll both probably be seeing quite a bit of her when things get rolling. Kristy is in charge of the Duncan Mills project.” “Stepsister?” Frannie was looking at Kristy with great interest. Kristy smiled at her. “Yes, Dad finally got Maggie Jordan to agree to marry him. Only took him five years,” she grumbled. “The wedding is going to be in two months.” “That’s wonderful!” Frannie gushed. “I love weddings. I’m engaged, myself. It’s just that Ben and I can’t agree on a date. He wants to elope, I want a big wedding with all the trimmings.” Suddenly Cole’s entire attention was fixed on her. “Ben?” “Yes, Ben Zimmerman. You may remember him. He’s the sheriff now.” Cole glanced at Charley and smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do remember Ben.” “Great! You can catch up on old-times Thursday night. I’m having a birthday party for Charley at the Red Dog.” Frannie smiled at Kristy. “You’re invited, also. Bring a date if you want.” Kristy nodded. “Thank you. I’d love to come. It’s been kind of lonely around here with no one to talk to but him.” She yanked her thumb in Cole’s direction with obvious disgust. Charley looked positively fascinated at Kristy’s sisterly attitude, and Cole almost laughed. 52
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“Are you staying here in town?” “I’m staying at Cole’s for now.” Kristy smiled at Charley. “He has so much room it seemed silly to rent something. As soon as everything is done here, I’ll be going back to L.A. to handle his business there. You should drop by sometime. It’s really a beautiful house. Bring your swimsuits. The pool is great.” “Thanks. We may just do that.” Cole saw Charley sneak a quick look at him to see how he was taking the invitation. He did his best to look like it didn’t affect him one way or the other. Kristy glanced at her watch. “I have to get going. I promised Mrs. Paulson I’d be home as soon as possible. The woman is convinced there are wolves all over the mountains just drooling to turn her into a midnight snack.” She climbed into the car. “See you later.” Frannie started toward her Volkswagen. “I have to go, too. I’m meeting Ben in a few minutes. Night!” She waved. Cole looked down at Charley, wishing he could come up with an excuse to stay with her. The darkness that surrounded them seemed to get deeper and quieter. “Who’s Mrs. Paulson?” She sounded nervous. “My housekeeper. She’s never been out of Los Angeles before and thinks we’ve moved her into the wilderness. It’s Kristy’s fault. She’s always telling her stories about the Wild West and scaring her to death.” He saw her hesitate. “Kristy seems very nice.” “She is. I hope you take her up on her invitation. She could use a friend or two.” “How long have you known her?” It was his turn to hesitate. They were finally having a conversation and he didn’t want to stir up the bad memories again. But he couldn’t lie to her. “Ten years. Jim McIntire was the first person I met when I got to Los Angeles. It was the day before Kristy’s fourteenth birthday.” She nodded. “And now you’re all going to be a real family.” “We always have been. Jim doesn’t have to marry my mother for that to happen.” Charley looked up at him, searching his face in the moonlight. “You know, it’s funny. I keep forgetting that you’ve been somewhere else, living another life for all this time. Nothing ever changes around here. You see the same people every day, do the same things you’ve always done, and it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.” Mesmerized, Cole watched her lift her hand to his cheek. He was afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Suddenly, his heart was slamming into his ribs. “But it does exist. You’ve been there.” Her head tilted as she studied him. “It’s changed you, hasn’t it? You aren’t the same person you were before. Not even the same one you would have been if you’d stayed here.” Her thumb moved over the stubbled beard of his chin and up to caress the edge of his lips. “You look the same, but deep down, you aren’t. I don’t think I know you anymore.” 53
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“Would you like to?” He could no more prevent the husky quality of his voice than he could stop the surge of hope that ran through him. “I don’t know. Maybe. I think I’m afraid, Cole. Afraid that too much will be changed, and at the same time, afraid it won’t be.” She dropped her hand back to her side, the movement leaving him bereft. “There’s no rush, Charley. I’m not going anywhere.” She was still looking up at him. “Do you think maybe we could be friends, again?” No, he thought. He and Charley could never be just friends. But at least it was a place to start. “If that’s what you want.” He saw the brief flicker of a smile on her face and then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Welcome home, Cole.” Before he could move she turned and ran across the parking lot to her Blazer. Welcome home. No one else had told him that, and he was surprised by the lump it created in his throat. He was still standing there staring after her as the meeting broke up.
***** The rattle of glass led Cole unerringly down the hall to the front of the Red Dog the next morning. For once, Charley had beaten him in to the office. After their conversation the night before, he had no idea how to treat her. Friends, she’d said. How did you treat the woman you ached for like a friend? He stopped in the entry and watched her. She was standing on a stool behind the bar, taking bottles out of a box and inserting them into the slots that lined the wall. Her jeans hugged her hips and legs snugly. Every time she stretched to reach the slots over her head, her T-shirt rode up, giving him a glimpse of bare skin and outlining the soft curve of a breast. His reaction was immediate and uncomfortable. Friends, he thought ruefully. Not a chance in hell. “You’re going to fall off and kill yourself if you aren’t careful.” He finally moved out of the entrance and stopped behind her. Charley glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Don’t be silly. I do this all the time.” She put the last bottle in place and turned. He couldn’t resist the chance to touch her. Putting his hands on her waist, he lifted her down. For an instant, something flared in her eyes, gone so fast he wasn’t sure if it had really been there. “I didn’t expect to see you here this morning. Weren’t you going to the hotel site?” “Yes, but I thought maybe you’d like to go with me. They’re pouring the footing today, and it’s the same crew that will be working on the restaurant. You should meet the foreman since you’ll be working with him.” It only took a second for her to make up her mind. “You’re right, and I really don’t have that much to do today, anyway. Let me leave Frannie a note and I’ll meet you outside.” 54
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Cole had just finished putting the top down on the Jag when she came out. Casually, he tossed her the keys. “You drive.” Catching the keys reflexively, she came to a sudden halt, looking in amazement from him to the car. “You can’t be serious.” He moved around to the passenger side. “I told you I’d let you drive it sometime. Now is as good a time as any.” Sliding into the deep bucket seat, he fastened the safety belt and waited while Charley hesitantly climbed in. Pushing in the clutch, she turned the key and Cole felt the powerful engine purr to life. Charley’s hands tightened and released spasmodically on the steering wheel and he smiled. He could still remember the first time he’d driven the Jag. His reaction had been almost sexual in nature, intense and exciting. He could see something of the same in Charley’s face. She let out on the clutch and the car eased across the parking lot and onto the highway. Delight lit her face as she increased the speed, her movements quick and sure as she shifted gears. Soon they were flying down the highway, the wind of their passage flattening grass on the roadside. “How fast have you driven it?” she yelled. Cole laughed. “One-hundred-eighty, but that was on a straight stretch of road. I don’t recommend doing it in these mountains.” She nodded and downshifted as they entered a curve, increasing the speed again halfway through. In spite of himself, Cole was impressed. She handled the car like she’d been doing it all her life. Only her smile and the tinge of red in her cheeks gave away her excitement. They reached the building site all too soon for him, and Charley pulled the Jag smoothly over to the side and shut it off. “That was fantastic! I had no idea driving a car could be such a rush.” She looked like an adorable little girl who’d just discovered everything on her Christmas list was under the tree. He had to fight the urge to give her the Jag on the spot. “When it’s a car like this one, it is.” Before he could stop himself, he brushed back a lock of hair the wind had tugged loose from her braid, and gestured toward the activity going on next to them. “What do you think?” Her flush deepened at his action, but she turned to survey the building site. Cole had to admit, it didn’t look like much at the moment. Men and concrete trucks were everywhere as they poured the foundation. Rusty rebar stuck up from the hole, with a backdrop of bright blue Porta Potties against the green mountains. Off to one side, well out of the way, sat a small, white trailer that served as an office. “Noisy, isn’t it?” Charley half yelled to make herself heard over the beeping of the trucks as they backed up, and the roar of motors. “From the slides of the model, I didn’t expect it to be this big.”
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Cole leaned closer to her. “The architect tried to keep it as close to the look and feel of an Old West hotel as possible and still give us a maximum amount of space. When it’s done, it will have two-hundred rooms, and a convention center. All three floors will have a balcony running around them.” He turned and pointed behind them. “The view alone should bring tourists by the droves.” The hotel was nestled between mountains covered in pine and spruce, giving it a hidden, cozy feel. But in the front the mountains dropped away to a breathtaking valley split by a blue river. “I think eventually we’ll put in a few ski slopes and maybe have a trolley that runs from Duncan Mills all the way back to Canyon Bend, with stops here and at the Red Dog.” Charley was nodding. “That’s a great idea. You’d not only get the summer tourist, you’d get the winter ones, too. It’s really going to be beautiful here.” He took her arm. “Let’s go find Hank Farrell.” The foreman was in the trailer office, poring over a set of plans when they entered. He looked up and smiled, his eyes almost disappearing in his round face as he stood and shook Charley’s hand. “Miss Hart. Glad you came by. I was going to drop in on you today, anyway. We’re going to start on your place as soon as the new parking lot is done, and I wanted to see if there were any changes in the blueprints you’d like to make.” Charley glanced at Cole, and when he nodded she looked back to Hank. “Well, I was wondering how hard it would be to turn one of the walls in the main dining room into a big brick fireplace. We could have an oven to one side of it and bake our own bread, and keep a big iron kettle going just like the pioneer women did.” Hank rolled up the plans that were on his desk and slid another set into place. Soon he and Charley were poring over them, both totally absorbed in the conversation. Cole leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. Construction was the farthest thing from his mind. He couldn’t take his eyes off Charley, couldn’t stop remembering the way she’d looked last night in the moonlight, or the way she’d touched him. The new role she’d assigned him was going to be much harder than the cool indifference he’d been maintaining so far. At least he’d been able to keep his hands off her. Now, with the fighting at an end, he wasn’t sure he could manage it. He was already looking for excuses to touch her, trying desperately to think up ways to be alone with her. How do you stop a body, heart and soul that have only been half alive from reaching out to the one thing that can make them whole? There wasn’t a minute of the day when he didn’t ache to hold her and tell her he loved her. But he couldn’t. He knew instinctively that she wasn’t ready to hear it yet, any more than she was ready to understand why he’d left. Charley looked up, her gaze brushing his, then locking. Cole forced himself to relax and smile. Her return smile was tentative, almost as though she’d read something in his look that made her uneasy. “Finished?”
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She nodded. “I think so.” Hank straightened. “If you think of anything else, just call me. We can make changes right up until the actual work starts.” Cole held the door as good-byes were exchanged and they left. When they reached the car, Charley climbed in on the passenger side. “You know,” she mused, “of all the slides you showed last night, I didn’t see a model of what the Red Dog will look like when it’s finished.” Cole glanced at her as he pulled out onto the highway. “That’s because the Red Dog has always been here. People are used to seeing it. I wanted to keep them focused on the newer aspects of the project.” “But you do have one?” “Yes. It’s to scale and you can open it out and see what every room will look like. Would you like to see it?” “I’d love to.” He nodded. “It’s at home, in my office. Why don’t you come by for dinner tonight? I’ll give you the five-dollar tour and you can see the model at the same time.” Cole could feel her looking at him, and kept his eyes on the road, trying not to hold his breath as she hesitated. “Will Kristy be there?” He almost smiled at her not-so-subtle attempt to find out if they would be alone. “I don’t know. Kristy tends to do a pretty good imitation of a ping-pong ball when she’s working. Constantly back and forth.” He flashed her a grin. “But don’t worry, Mrs. Paulson is cooking so there’s no chance of food poisoning.” She relaxed slightly. “Okay. What time?” “About seven. And don’t dress up. We’ll probably eat on the patio.” Cole couldn’t stop the surge of elation that washed over him. Finally, he and Charley would be together in their house, even if it would only be for a few hours.
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Chapter Eight Charley stood next to the Blazer in the fading dusk and stared up at the well-lit house, a knot of tension tightening her stomach. What had possessed her to agree to come here? A tremor shook its way down her spine, and she thought about climbing back in the SUV. This was almost as stupid as telling Cole she wanted to be friends. She didn’t want to be friends with him. She wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her like he had in her office. She wanted to stay in this house with him, in his bed. She wanted to stay here with him forever. Or, at least until he decided to leave her again. Her hands fisted so hard the nails dug into her palms, but she was oblivious to the pain. From where she was standing, she could clearly see the interior of the house through the glass, and it suddenly occurred to her that anyone inside could probably see her just as well. Without doubt they had heard her drive up. She lifted her gaze to the only darkened window in the house. It was on the top floor, to the right of the main body of the house. A bedroom? His bedroom? A movement from inside caught her attention and she turned her head just in time to see Cole jog down the stairs. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of washed-out jeans that molded his long legs, showing the hard line of each muscle. His plain white T-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, and hugged his waist before dipping into the top of his jeans. His dark hair was tousled as though he’d been running his hand through it. He looked younger, more at ease, more like the Cole she remembered. A wave of yearning swept over her, so intense that it almost brought her to her knees, and she braced her hands against the Blazer. This was her man, her house, and yet neither of them belonged to her. Nor would they ever. She had to keep reminding herself of that fact. Just as she took a deep, shaky breath, Cole opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. She saw him stop, his gaze searching her face. “Would you like to come in?” His voice was quiet, low and soothing. She’d heard ranchers use the same tone on a horse that was trying to bolt. A hysterical giggle welled inside her, and it took every ounce of her strength to keep it from bursting loose. After all, she had been ready to bolt, and the fact that he still knew her so well after all this time, could see what she was feeling, terrified her. But she had laid the ground rules herself, and she suddenly remembered why. For her own protection. If she could make them both believe they were nothing but friends, he couldn’t hurt her again. Unable to speak, she answered his question with a nod and he stepped back, holding the door open for her. Praying her wobbly legs would carry her, she moved 58
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around the Blazer, keeping her eyes down as she walked by him and into the house. The door closing softly behind her sounded preternaturally loud in the stillness emanating from the rest of the house. A stillness that was abruptly broken by the crash of something metal and an earsplitting curse. All at once the world settled back into its normal place and Charley glanced around at Cole in question. “Mrs. Paulson.” He explained the noise with a grin. “She’s still not thrilled with the new kitchen yet, but don’t let her scare you. She’s a lot more harmless than she sounds.” He held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Charley’s hesitation was barely noticeable as she lifted her hand and felt his fingers close firmly around it. The formal dining room he led her through contained a huge, square table with a bowl of white flowers centered in the middle. The chairs, while made alike, had seats that were covered in a Navaho print, each a different color. Giant clay pots, hand-painted with desert scenes, stood in two corners of the room, tall stalks of dried yucca flowers rising from each pot. The only wall that wasn’t solid glass was covered by a gigantic tapestry that mimicked the pattern on the chairs. Just as they reached the door leading to the kitchen, there was another crash, followed by more cursing, the voice raspy and masculine sounding. Charley took one look and came to a screeching halt, her free hand clapped over her mouth in surprise. The tiniest woman she had ever seen was wielding a broom handle like a sword, and her target was a stack of pots and pans residing in a cabinet over her head. Several of the shiny cooking utensils were already strewn around her on the floor. At their entry, she spun to face them, the broom swinging wildly as she glared at Cole. “Are you the bonehead who put my pans up there?” she growled. “No, ma’am,” Cole said meekly. “Must have been the movers.” Charley stared at him in amazement, unable to believe he would actually be cowed by the diminutive woman. Not until he squeezed her hand did she see the amused twinkle in his eyes. “Is there something you want me to get for you?” “A ladder,” the woman practically spit the words. “I’ll have one delivered in the morning,” he promised, dropping Charley’s hand and moving toward the offending pots. He took them all down and placed them within her reach on the countertop. “Mrs. Paulson, this is Charley Hart. Charley, this is Mrs. Paulson, the best cook in the United States.” Suddenly she was pinned by the steely gray eyes. “Do you carry a gun?” Charley gaped at her. “Uh, no ma’am.” “Then how do you protect yourself from the wolves at night?” Enlightenment dawned and Charley had to work hard to stifle her grin. Especially after she glanced at Cole. He was almost doubled over with silent laughter. 59
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Charley looked back at Mrs. Paulson. “Truthfully, there haven’t been any wolves around here in years. The only real problem we have are the bears.” The housekeeper’s snow-white hair stood visibly on end. “Bears!” The word scaled up at the end until it was beyond the range of human hearing. “Just black bears,” Charley hastily assured her. “The small ones.” There was a choking sound from behind Mrs. Paulson and this time it was Charley who glared at Cole’s red face. “Honest, they’re really little. And they’re afraid of people. All you have to do is stomp your foot and yell, and they run. Mostly, they’re after the garbage cans people leave out.” Mrs. Paulson spun to face Cole, and he immediately straightened, his face expressionless. “Bears,” she repeated ominously. “You didn’t tell me about the bears. Where are the garbage cans?” “In the garage, just like they were yesterday.” “See to it they stay there,” she snapped. “Yes, ma’am,” Cole responded, edging around her. “I’m going to show Charley the rest of the house, now.” “Make sure all the doors are locked when you do.” “Oh, bears can’t—” Charley’s words were cut off abruptly as Cole grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room. By the time they made it back through the dining room, his hand was clutched to his ribs and he was gasping for air. “Oh, God,” he laughed. “Between you and Kristy, that poor woman won’t survive her first month here. ‘They’re really small ones,’” he mimicked her. “Charley, she’s never been out of the inner city in her life. Can you imagine what she’s going to think if she sees a raccoon? She’s already trying to talk me into buying her a gun. There’d be raccoon guts scattered for a mile in every direction.” Charley was laughing in spite of her horror. “You aren’t going to buy her one, are you?” His head tilted to one side. “Do I look like I want to wake up full of bullet holes? Believe me, there is no way I’m buying that woman a gun.” “Where on Earth did you find her?” Cole smiled. “I didn’t. She found me.” They had stopped in the living room. “It was right after Jordan Enterprises sold its first really big contract. We were installing a security system for a multimillion dollar conglomerate. The clients were into jogging, so I’d met them at the park that morning and we talked on the track. By the time we finished, I was sweating and dirty. I sat down on a park bench to cool off, and the next thing I knew, this tiny woman was shoving half of a pimento cheese sandwich in my face and telling me I had to eat it because I was too skinny to walk, much less run.” “You always hated pimento cheese,” Charley laughed. “I still do,” he grinned at her. “But I ate it that time. I was afraid if I didn’t she’d force it down my throat. Anyway, the next thing I knew, she was on my doorstep with
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all her belongings, determined to save me from certain starvation.” His smile faded a little. “Turns out her husband had died six months before that, and her only child, a son, was killed in a car accident when he was twenty-five. She had no income, and was so late in her rent that she was being evicted.” “So you did her a favor and took her in,” Charley said quietly. “No,” Cole shook his head. “She did me one. I was spending so much time working that I really wasn’t taking care of myself. Not only was I missing most of my meals, I had a beaut of an ulcer and my house looked like a pigsty. She made me slow down and realize that working myself to death wasn’t going to solve anything.” “What needed solving?” As soon as the words left her lips, Charley wished they hadn’t. It felt too much like prying, too personal. He looked down at her, the expression in his eyes unfathomable. “This is the living room,” he stated needlessly. Dutifully, Charley turned to look. He obviously wasn’t going to answer her question. Even though she’d seen the room from outside, her gaze swept over it again, taking in details she’d missed before. It was perfect. Too perfect, she decided. It looked as though someone had taken a picture from a magazine and transferred it directly to this house. There was nothing personal, nothing that indicated a real person lived here. If it were hers, she would add dozens of pillows and multi-colored throws to give it warmth. Maybe lots of small pictures over the kiva. Family pictures. “It’s beautiful,” she said. The tour of the second level was short, since Cole didn’t want to intrude on Kristy and Mrs. Paulson’s space. He just pointed out the four bedrooms and the patio. On the third level, Charley stopped and looked over the balcony. She had to admit, the house was even more spectacular than she’d ever dreamed possible. Cole waited until she was done, and then directed her through another door. “This is the master bedroom.” Charley stumbled at his words, her attention focused on the king-sized bed in the center of the room. She wasn’t having any trouble at all picturing Cole in it, and the image shook her all over again. With an effort she tore her gaze away and looked at the rest of the room. Unlike the southwestern motif that dominated the rest of the house, this room was entirely Cole’s. Blues dominated, all the way from a silvery blue to a deep royal. The furniture was modern, a sleek black headboard with three dark blue leather panels centered on its sensuous surface graced the massive bed. Scooted up against the footboard was a matching bench, its square lines complementing the dresser and chest. And evidence of his occupancy was everywhere, ranging from a set of cuff links on the dresser to the scent of his aftershave, which lingered in the air. A picture of his mother with an obviously happy man rested on a table to one side. Charley picked it up and examined it. “Your mother looks wonderful. City life must agree with her.” 61
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Cole came and looked over her shoulder. “Jim agrees with her. I’ve never seen her so happy. If ever two people were meant to be together, they are.” “I can see where Kristy gets her looks. Her father is a handsome man.” “It’s not only looks, either. Kristy is just like Jim. Both of them are energetic, outgoing, and stubborn as mules.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s because he raised her alone. Her mother died when she born.” Charley put the picture back on the table and turned. “How did you meet them?” For a second, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he took a deep breath. “When I left, I didn’t even have enough money to buy gas for my truck, so I sold it and used the money to get to Los Angeles. I thought in a city that size it would be easy to get a job. My first stop was at the employment agency. What I didn’t realize is that you can’t get a job without an address and phone number. “I was on my way out of the agency, wondering what the hell I was going to do, when I literally ran into Jim McIntire. The next day was Kristy’s fourteenth birthday, and he was loaded down with packages. They flew everywhere. I helped him pick them up, and then helped carry them to his office, next door.” Cole paused. “To this day, I don’t know what Jim saw in me, but it must have been something. He gave me a job and a place to live. And more importantly, he gave me a family. He cared about me, and my background didn’t seem to matter to him at all. With Jim’s help, I started Jordan Enterprises. It wasn’t long before I paid him back every cent he’d loaned me, with interest. But everything I am, I owe to him. That’s something I’ll never be able to pay back.” Confusion swept over Charley as she stared up at him. It almost sounded as though his leaving had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, unplanned. Why else would he have to sell his truck to get money? The need to finally know the truth hit her hard. “Cole—” “The model is this way,” he interrupted, leaving her standing as he started out the door. She had no choice but to follow him, frustration almost choking her. She was about to try again when he went through a door and flipped the light on. This, she realized, was the darkened room she had seen from outside. Not his bedroom, but his office. Cole walked to the window and picked up a half-empty glass from the table next to it. “Can I get you something to drink?” “No, thanks.” She watched him sip and then looked back at the window. He must have been standing there in the dark, looking out. Waiting? Watching for her? But why, if he really didn’t care about her? Something loosened in her chest and began to expand. Her gaze met his, and her heart began to pound at the look in his eyes. She took a step toward him. Without looking away, he slowly lowered his glass to the table. “Charley.” His voice was husky and she didn’t know if it contained a plea or a warning. And she didn’t care. Taking the last step that separated them, she splayed her hands on the hard muscles of his chest, lingered for a moment before she slid them up to his nape. 62
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His hands were around her waist, and she felt them tighten reflexively as she pulled his head down to hers. A long-dormant emotion uncoiled inside her as she brushed her lips over his, softly, from side to side. “Charley,” he sounded desperate. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” “Wrong,” she whispered. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” With a groan, his arms went around her, pulling her tightly to him. His mouth covered hers possessively, hungrily, time after time until she was dizzy with the taste of him, the scent of him. Joy warred with need. This was where she belonged, here, in his arms. Even if he left her, she would take what she could get, for as long as possible. When his hand moved to her breast, cupped it, his thumb teasing the hard outline of a nipple, she arched against him. A whimper of hunger escaped her lips and suddenly he went wild. Before she knew what was happening, he’d yanked her T-shirt over her head and was pressing her back on the desk, his mouth moving over her bare flesh. Bracing herself with one hand, she fisted the other in his hair, guiding him. When first his lips, then his teeth closed around her breast, the ache centered low in her stomach exploded. Eyes closed, her head went back in ecstasy. Just as his hands found the clasp on her pants, Mrs. Paulson’s voice echoed up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!” Instantly they both froze, and then Charley heard Cole give a low curse. She couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from her, and he leaned back and grinned ruefully. “We’ll be down in a minute,” he yelled over his shoulder. As soon as he lifted her from the desk, Charley reached for her T-shirt, but he stopped her. “Wait. Please.” His voice was an aching whisper and she paused as his eyes ran over her again. When he trailed one finger down her neck and touched her breast, she shivered at the naked desire aflame in his eyes. Gently, he took the shirt from her and helped her slip it on, his touch still caressing even as he tugged the material down. Then he pulled her back into his arms. “I have to make a trip to our Los Angeles office tomorrow.” Charley couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. “You aren’t coming to my party?” “I’ll be there. But I may be a little late. Ride to the party with Frannie.” She searched his eyes. “Why?” “Because I’m taking you home.” Happiness burst inside her. “I thought this was a battle you didn’t intend to lose,” she teased. “I surrender,” he whispered, his mouth heartbreakingly tender as it covered hers.
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Chapter Nine The party was in full swing when Cole pulled up behind the Red Dog. Thanks to a delay at the airport, he was later than he’d intended to be, and hadn’t taken the time to go home and change. The ironic thing was that most of the trip had been a waste of time. He hadn’t been able to keep his mind on business and had actually shocked his staff into silence by staring out the window with a smile on his face. When Tom Jackson, his branch manager, had to repeat his report twice, Cole had finally dismissed them and spent the rest of the day shopping for Charley’s birthday present. Stepping out of the Jag, he tossed his suit jacket back onto the seat, and then added his tie, leaving the top two buttons on his shirt undone. The sound of laughter and music drifted on the night air, and he smiled. Charley was somewhere inside. Just a few more hours, and he’d be alone with her. Cole stopped in his office long enough to leave the gaily wrapped package he carried, then headed into the main part of the Red Dog, his gaze searching for Charley. Frannie and Kristy were standing together, and he stopped behind them just as Kristy whispered, “Who’s that man Charley is dancing with?” Both Cole and Frannie turned to stare at the dance floor. “Oh, that’s Sam Tyree.” Frannie grinned. “Would you like to meet him?” “I already have.” Kristy’s tone was chill. “He’s arrogant, conceited, and insulting.” Frannie laughed. “Oh, yeah. You’ve met him.” Cole finally located the couple and his eyes narrowed. The man holding Charley in his arms was every bit as tall as own six feet, two inches. His hair was black as night, and muscles bulged from the short-sleeved shirt he was wearing. And he was laughing down into Charley’s upturned face as they moved around the dance floor. “I don’t remember any family named Tyree from around here.” He kept his eyes glued to them as Kristy and Frannie both turned to look at him. “That’s because he’s only lived here for five years. Do you remember Gus Ferguson? Sam is his nephew. When Gus died, Sam inherited his ranch.” Frannie smiled at him. “We were beginning to think you weren’t going to make it.” Cole ignored her last statement. “They dance together like they’re used to doing it.” Frannie glanced back at the dance floor. “They are. Charley and Sam are good friends.” “I see.” She studied his face for a second then shook her head. “No, I don’t think you do.” She gestured. “Take a good look at the women in this room.”
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Cole glanced at her then let his gaze sweep the room. He paused, then looked again. Every single feminine eye in the place was locked on Sam Tyree. From the corner of his eye, he saw Frannie nod with satisfaction. “Every woman in the state has been chasing him since the minute he moved here. Except one. Charley. She’s not interested so he feels safe with her. That’s why they’re friends.” “Only one?” a deep male voice teased. “Two,” Frannie hastily clarified as she turned to smile at the man encircling her waist with one arm. “I’m not interested, either. Ben, you remember Cole Jordan, don’t you?” “Of course.” Ben Zimmerman extended a hand. “Cole, good to have you back.” “Thanks.” Cole shook his hand. “Good to be back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a sudden urge to dance.” He’d barely taken two steps when Kristy stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t look now, but Victor Channing is trying to head you off.” “Great,” he muttered as Charley’s uncle made his way through the crowd, Douglas Ashton at his side. He glanced down at Kristy while they waited. “What’s with you and Sam Tyree? It didn’t sound like you care much for him.” Kristy shrugged. “Apparently his ranch borders our Duncan Mills property. He doesn’t like having his cows disturbed by the work crews. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” “Are you sure?” “Positive.” She smiled at him and moved away. Channing stopped next to him, beaming at the dance floor. “They make a wonderful couple, don’t you think? I expect an announcement any day.” “Is that right?” Cole couldn’t hide his grin of amusement. The man next to him sobered. “Stay away from her, Jordan. We both know you don’t love her. You’re here to get revenge on me, and you know Charley is the best way to do it.” He paused. “It won’t do you any good to tell her the truth. She won’t believe you.” “Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you, Victor.” He left Channing standing and started toward Charley again. The first song had ended and a slow one was starting when he reached them. Politely, he tapped Charley’s partner on the shoulder. “May I?” A slight tinge of red crept up Charley’s cheeks as she saw him, but her smile of welcome had him feeling dazed. “You made it,” she said. “I told you I would,” he said softly. Tonight her eyes seemed more green than hazel and he could feel himself sinking into them. There was a gruff laugh from next to them. “Well, I can see I just lost my protector.”
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The red in Charley’s cheeks deepened. “I’m sorry. Cole this Sam Tyree. Sam, this is Cole Jordan.” “I figured that out for myself.” Sam held out a hand. “If you have time tonight, I’d like to talk you about one of your projects.” Cole tore his gaze away from Charley long enough to reach for the extended hand, and then stared at Sam in amazement. From across the room, the man had looked like a full-blooded Indian, but now that he was in front of him, he could see that the eyes looking back at him were a clear, crystal blue. The color, set against the deep bronze of his skin was startling, to say the least. “Actually, all my time tonight is taken. But if it’s about Duncan Mills, you need to talk to Kristy. She’s in complete charge there.” Tyree sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Well, you two have fun.” He smiled at Charley. “Don’t forget to come out to the ranch this weekend and pick up your birthday present. Bring Jordan with you.” Cole turned to Charley and finally pulled her against him. “I thought he’d never leave,” he murmured as her arms twined around his neck. “What birthday present do you have to pick up?” “A puppy. Sam promised me one from the next litter and they’re ready now. Do you want to go with me?” “You bet I do.” He tightened his grip on her. “Especially since I heard you and Sam are practically engaged.” Charley’s mouth dropped open. “Who told you that?” “Your uncle.” She squeezed her eyes shut briefly and dropped her forehead onto his chest. “I swear, that man is acting positively bizarre. He doesn’t even like Sam that much, but he’s been pushing us together all evening. I have no idea what’s gotten into him.” Cole knew, but he couldn’t tell her yet. Even now he could see Victor scowling at them. He’d be damned if he let the man spoil tonight for them, though. He’d waited too long. He tilted Charley’s head up so he could look into her eyes again. “Forget your uncle, and forget Sam.” She smiled at him. “You weren’t even a little jealous?” “Is he taking you home tonight?” “No.” The words were soft. “You are.” “Then I’m not jealous.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her, was still having trouble believing that she was here, in his arms. They were only moving enough to give the illusion of dancing, and even that little bit of movement was driving him crazy. Every inch of her body was pressed against him, from the sweet swell of her breast to the long warmth of her thighs. Even as he watched, the expression on her face changed, the look in her eyes became more intense. Her arms slowly tightened around his neck, pulling his head 66
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down to hers. When her lips parted, he lost the battle with decorum. Giving up all pretense of dancing, he pulled her up onto her toes and covered her mouth with his. The rest of the room faded away as he drank in her taste, the feel of her willing lips moving under his. Their tongues touched, caressed tenderly, then ravaged as they were both caught in a web of sensation. If Cole hadn’t had his feet firmly planted, they probably would have crashed to the floor when another couple jostled into them, but the collision did break them apart just long enough for him to regain his senses. He couldn’t make love to her in the middle of a crowded dance floor no matter what his heated body was screaming. Letting his lips brush hers one more time, he took her hand. “Ready for your birthday present?” “Oh, Cole. You didn’t have to get me anything. I told Frannie to let everyone know I didn’t expect them to bring gifts.” He pulled her toward the office. “You’re letting Sam give you a pup. You can’t refuse to take my gift.” Pushing the door open he sat on the edge of the desk and pulled her between his thighs before handing her the package. He wanted to see her face when she opened it. With his hands on her hips, he watched as she carefully removed the bow and pulled away the expensive wrapping paper to reveal the blue velvet box. She glanced up at him, one perfect eyebrow arched in question. “Open it,” he encouraged. Slowly, she lifted the lid and gazed down at the gold ID bracelet that nestled inside. A single diamond dangled from one corner of the nameplate. For a moment she was silent, but when she looked up again her eyes were misted with tears. “I still have the other one,” she murmured, her voice husky with emotion. “It’s in my jewelry box at home.” “This one won’t turn your arm green,” he smiled ruefully. Charley’s laugh was shaky. “You knew?” “Of course I knew. You wore it constantly for a year. The green was hard to miss.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I spent a whole fifteen dollars on that bracelet. It embarrassed me to death. I swore to myself that someday I’d replace it with a good one.” “It looks awfully expensive.” There was hint of doubt in her tone. Cole slipped it out of the box, careful to keep his fingers over the inscription hidden under the clasp, and put it on her arm. “They won’t take it back after your name is on it, so you have to keep it.” He’d taken a big chance with that inscription. If she saw it too soon, it could drive her away from him. But he knew Charley. She really hadn’t taken the first one off for a year, and he was praying her sentimentality would have the same results this time. “Thank you, Cole. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She leaned over and kissed him just as the office door swung open. “There you are, darlin’.”
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Charley turned at her uncle’s voice, but Cole kept his arms around her, and she didn’t seem to be in any rush to step away from him. “Your guests are asking for you. I thought I raised you better than to vanish from your own party,” Channing chided her gently. “I’m sorry, Uncle Victor.” She threw a polite smile at Douglas before continuing. “Cole was just giving me my birthday present. Isn’t it beautiful?” She held her arm out for his inspection. Channing glanced down, the smile staying on his face. “It’s a nice little trinket. Now go mingle, girl.” “I will.” She turned to smile at Cole. “Ready to go back?” He slid off the desk and stood. “Why don’t you go on ahead, Sweetie. I need to talk a little business with Cole.” She nodded. “Okay, but don’t keep him too long. This is a party, remember.” Cole settled against the desk again, arms crossed over his chest, waiting. It didn’t take long. As soon as Charley was through the door, Channing closed it behind her, his smile fading in a hurry. “I’m warning you for the last time, Jordan. Stay away from my niece.” “Or what, Victor? You’ll slap my wrist? Tell a few more lies?” Cole stood. “Give it up. Charley belongs to me. She always has, and she always will. As much as you wanted to, as hard as you tried, you couldn’t make her quit loving me. You’ve finally found something you can’t control.” “She’ll never believe you!” Channing’s voice was low and desperate. “You can’t prove a thing. She’ll never trust you again!” Cole walked by him and stopped at the door, shooting a look of disgust over his shoulder. “Wrong again, Victor. She’s already starting to trust me, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Because of you, Charley and I have wasted ten years that we should have spent together. I don’t intend to waste another minute. Now tell your…friend, to get out of my way.” He met Douglas’ cold eyes and held them until the man stepped away from the door.
***** The streetlights plunged them in and out of darkness as Cole steered the Jag toward Charley’s house. He glanced at her. She was staring down at the bracelet intently, even though he was pretty sure she wasn’t actually seeing it. He had watched her nervousness build all evening. By the time the party ended, he’d halfway expected her to back out. But she hadn’t. The thought had his stomach churning. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. “What did Uncle Victor want to talk to you about?” “He had some problems. I addressed them.”
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“Oh, good. Maybe he’s starting to come around.” Cole smiled at her. “Maybe.” He pulled the car into her driveway and parked behind her Blazer. Charley made no effort to exit on her own, and he walked around the car, opened the door and took her hand. She was trembling. “You know, I think I’m really going to enjoy having a puppy,” she rattled as they walked across the lawn. “I’ve never had a pet before.” “Maybe I should think about getting a dog, too. I’m sure Mrs. Paulson would feel safe from the bears if we had one around.” He put his hand at her back as they started up the stairs. “Oh, I’m sure she would.” Charley’s keys jingled in her hand and then hit the boards of the porch with a loud clank when she fumbled them. He scooped them up and unlocked her front door, stepping inside and pulling her in after him. She reached to turn on a light just as he reached around her to relock the door. Their gaze met, held, and he saw her pupils expand. “Charley, are you afraid?” She licked her lips, her eyes still on his. “No,” she whispered. “Just a little nervous.” He propped one hand behind her on the door. With the other he traced the soft skin along the top edge of her low-cut blouse. “Would it help to know that I’m nervous, too?” He could feel chill bumps rising in the wake of his fingers, and her shivering increased. “You? Why are you nervous?” Her voice had taken on a husky quality. “I’m afraid that I want you too much,” he murmured. His fingers slipped lower, to the lacy fringe of her bra. “I’m afraid that I’ll hurt you, or scare you.” His fingers were under the piping now, moving across one satiny breast. “And I’m afraid…” I’ll lose you, he thought. Finally, his finger brushed the hardened, ready nipple. Charley’s whole body convulsed at the touch, and a moan broke from her parted lips. For an instant longer he rolled the taut evidence of her desire between his fingers, and she arched into him, her eyes closed. “Oh, God.” The words seemed to be torn from her throat. “Cole, oh, please don’t stop.” The sweet sound of her passion drove him over the edge. With both hands he ripped her blouse away. Clothing no longer mattered, nothing mattered except giving Charley what she wanted, what she needed. What they both needed. The bra went the same way as the blouse and he leaned to fasten his teeth on her other breast. Air whistled in and out of her lungs in tortured gasps, and her legs gave out. But he braced her against the door, held her up. His hand took up where his mouth left off as his lips trailed heat up her neck. Possessively, fiercely, he claimed her mouth, and she answered him, frantic with her own desire. Somehow, she had managed to undo the buttons of his shirt, and when he felt her pushing at his shoulders, he shrugged out of it.
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When she crushed her breasts against him, his hands moved to the fastener on her skirt. It parted like air under his adrenaline-enhanced strength, and he pushed it down, along with her panties, and felt her step out of them. He had to touch her. His hand plunged between her legs, searching for and finding the core of her pleasure. She was hot and wet and swollen under his fingers, ready, so very ready for him. And still he tortured her with his touch, until they were both in agony. Her desperate hands finally freed him and he almost lost control when she caressed him. Pushing her fingers away, he fumbled on a condom, then slid one hand under a silky thigh and lifted, positioned himself at her opening, and paused. “Charley,” he whispered. “Oh, Charley. I’ve waited so long.” With one plunge, he buried himself inside her. Sweet, hot waves of torment washed over him as she took him in, gripped his length in an impossibly tight velvet casing of pure rapture. He no longer knew which of them the sobs were coming from and he didn’t care. He was home, he was where he belonged. He drove into her, time and again until he felt the first spasms of her climax. As her teeth caught in his neck to muffle her cries of pleasure, he gave in to the blessed relief of his own climax and endlessly spilled his seed into her. Sanity was slow in returning, but gradually Cole became aware that he was on his back, on the floor in front of Charley’s door. Charley was sprawled on top of him, her shinning hair spread over his chest like a blanket, hiding her face from him. Gently, he brushed it back. A single tear slid down her cheek. “Oh, God. Charley, did I hurt you?” Her body shook and he almost panicked. A low laugh escaped her. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” “Then what’s wrong?” He caught the tear with his finger. She sighed. “It was too fast. It’s been so long, Cole. I wanted it to last forever.” Her answer caught him by surprise and forced a husky laugh of his own as happiness welled up inside him. “Oh, my sweet Charley,” he whispered, pulling her lips up to his. “That was just the foreplay.” With one movement, he stood, holding her in his arms, and carried her into the bedroom.
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Chapter Ten Had it been a dream, again? Cole’s lips turned up at the corners. No, the warm, sweetly curved body curled around his own was no dream. He tightened his arms around her gently, loving the way she felt, loving her. He opened his eyes and turned his head a little to gaze down at her. Charley’s head was nestled on his shoulder, one arm tossed loosely around his neck, the gold ID bracelet glinting in the morning sunlight. A long, smooth leg was wrapped over his. They had made love so many times last night that he’d lost count, and each time it had been harder not to tell her how much he loved her. This was the way it should be. Waking up every morning with Charley beside him. They belonged together. They always had. And yet, sooner or later he was going to have tell her why he had left her all those years ago. If it drove them apart again it would kill him. He didn’t think he could live without Charley anymore. A sharp pain ran through his heart. “God,” he thought, “is it too much to ask for us to have a chance at being happy? That’s all I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Cole buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, and forced himself to relax. Just the fact that she was here, in his arms, was nothing short of a miracle. He wanted to enjoy it while he could. Last night had changed everything, he knew. It had created a bond between them. One that gave him the right to treat her like a lover now, instead of just a friend or acquaintance. Hopefully, it would grow even stronger the more time they spent together. And he was going to make sure they were together every second possible. “I love you, Charley,” he whispered. Her hand clenched on his skin, and her eyelashes fluttered. With a soft sigh she opened her eyes, looking at him blankly for a second before a flush rose in her cheeks. Cole couldn’t stop his smile. She looked so damned adorable, all sleep-rumpled and satisfied, her lips still swollen from the kisses they’d shared. “Good morning,” he murmured. “Cole.” Her hand moved down his chest as though she were checking to make sure he was really there, and his smile broadened. He knew exactly how she felt. She returned his smile, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. “Wow.” Laughter bubbled up inside him and spilled over. “My sentiments exactly. You know, you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me. After a night like that, I may just keep you.” He kept his voice teasing. Something flashed in her eyes, but her smile stayed in place. “After last night, I may just let you. Of course, if we keep up that pace we’ll both be dead in a few weeks anyway.”
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“I’m willing to chance it if you are. And what a way to go.” She yawned and pushed a lock of hair away from her face. “What time is it?” “A little after eight.” “I guess we need to get up, huh?” She pushed herself away from him and then hesitated, turning to look back. “Cole, I’m not sure I know how to do this.” “Do what?” He ran a hand down her arm. She reddened again. “Have an affair. I mean, that is what we’re doing, isn’t it? It wasn’t just a one-night thing, was it?” His gaze met hers, emotion making his voice husky when he answered. “No, Charley. We both know it wasn’t just a one-night thing.” It was his turn to hesitate. He wanted her to move in with him, but instinct was telling him to slow down, to give her time to get used to having him so close. “For now, why don’t we just let nature takes its course and enjoy each other? Neither of us is going anywhere, and as far as I know, there are rules we have to follow.” “Isn’t this going to make it hard to work together?” “Only because you may have to bar your office door to keep me out if you want to get any work done.” He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. “But that does remind me. I have to go out to Duncan Mills later this evening. Want to get something to eat and go with me?” “Sure.” Charley smiled. “I haven’t been out there in a long time. Sounds like fun.” “I can think of something else that sounds like fun.” He tugged on her hand until she was stretched out next to him. Just as he leaned over and brushed her lips with his, the phone rang. Charley pulled back. “I better get that. It might be Frannie.” She reached for the phone. “Hello?” Cole’s arms went around her and she tilted her head to one side as he nuzzled her neck. “Hi, Uncle Vic.” Cole’s movements paused and then continued as he listened to the conversation. “Cole?” Charley’s cheeks turned blood red, but she took a deep breath, her chin lifting in unconscious defiance. “Yes, he is here. Why?” Cole’s lips turned up in a smile against her skin. “Oh. I know he’ll be happy to hear that. Yes, sir. I’ll tell him.” There was another pause. “No, I’m sorry, Uncle Vic. Cole and I are going out to Duncan Mills this evening. Maybe we can have lunch one day next week?” She snuggled closer to Cole. “Okay, see you then. Bye.” “What was that all about?” Charley turned in his arms. “Uncle Vic said to tell you that the City Council has decided to go along with the ideas your city planner came up with. The bypass won’t be necessary.” “I never doubted it.” He pulled her up on top of him. “Now, where were we?”
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***** Cole stopped Charley just inside the back door of the Red Dog, and pulled her into his arms. As his mouth came down on hers, he could hear a phone ringing but he ignored it as she kissed him back. “What was that for?” Charley smiled up at him, her body still leaning against his, arms around his neck. “Because I wanted to, because I can, and because it may be my last chance until this evening. I need to run home and change before I go to work.” “Sounds like good enough reasons to do it again.” She stretched to reach him, her lips brushing his. “Gee, I really hate to interrupt, but Cole, you have a call from Los Angeles on line one.” Cole and Charley both turned to look at Frannie. She was standing in the middle of the hall, hands on her hips as she watched them. Reluctantly, he released Charley. “Okay, I’d better take it.” He smiled at her. “I’ll stop by your office when I’m done.” “Okay.” As soon as he reached his office, he picked up the phone. He was still talking twenty minutes later when his door opened again and Frannie came in, locking it behind her. “That’s fine, Will. Just fax me the contract when it’s ready.” He eyed Frannie as he finished the call and hung up. “Problem?” Propping both hands on the edge of his desk, she glared at him. “You could say that. Charley is my cousin and my best friend. I don’t want to see her get hurt again.” He smiled. “Are you actually asking me my intentions?” She crossed her arms over her chest, one foot tapping on the floor. “Yes, I guess I am. For some reason, I’m beginning to suspect that you’ve been playing a game since the day you showed up. I don’t much care for the feeling.” Cole studied her and then sighed. “You may as well sit down.” When she did, he continued. “How do you feel about Victor Channing?” “Victor?” She frowned. “What does he have to do with this?” “Frannie, if you want me to tell you what’s going on, first I need to know how you feel about him.” “I think he’s a pompous ass.” She waved a hand in the air. “I know, he’s Charley’s uncle and she adores him, but I’ve never cared for the man. I’ve always gotten the impression he just tolerates me because I’m Charley’s cousin.” Cole nodded, coming to a decision. “How much do you know about what happened ten years ago between Charley and me?” “Everything she knows. You proposed one night, and then vanished. It almost killed her. She really loved you, you know.”
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“I know,” he said softly. “And I loved her. I’ve never stopped.” He looked down at his desk. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to, Frannie. I left because I had no choice. Victor Channing owned the house my mother lived in. He was waiting for me that night when I got home, and he told me that if I weren’t gone by morning, he’d throw her out. She had no money, except for a small pension she got when my dad was killed. Even combined with what little I made, it wasn’t enough to rent anything else. And so I left.” He cleared his throat of the lump that had formed and looked up at Frannie. “I tried to get in touch with Charley for almost a year. I wrote, and even called a few times. But Channing must have intercepted the letters because Charley never answered them, and someone else always picked up the phone. By the time Charley moved to her own place, I had realized a few hard facts. In a way, Channing was right. I had nothing to offer Charley. If we had gotten married, she would have had to live in near-poverty. I couldn’t do that to her, Frannie. So I stopped trying to reach her, and I went to work. With Jim McIntire’s help, I started Jordan Enterprises. And I started making money. For Charley. Everything I did was for Charley. Every job I did, every penny I made. I never gave up hope. Now I’m back, and I don’t intend to give her up this time.” Frannie was watching him, her eyes misty. “All this time, and you still love her. Why don’t you just tell her, Cole?” He shook his head. “You know the way she feels about her uncle, Frannie. When her father died, Channing took her and her mother in. And when her mother died a year later, he raised her alone. Do you really think she’d believe me?” “I don’t know.” Frannie worried one corner of her lip between her teeth. “She might.” “No.” Cole sighed. “Right now, she wouldn’t. And I can’t take a chance on driving her away by making her choose between us. Channing still hates me. He’s going to do everything in his power to keep Charley away from me. That includes lying. I have no way to prove what happened. It’s just my word against his, and she doesn’t trust me completely, even after last night.” Frannie smiled. “Yeah, but you have something Channing doesn’t have. You have me on your side.” She stood. “I don’t know what I can do to help, but I’ll think of something. I want to see her happy, Cole. And I know she’s never stopped loving you.” “Thanks, Frannie. I hope to God you’re right.” “I am.” She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, this will all work out somehow.”
***** “Looks like we have about an hour of daylight left.” Cole glanced at the sun low on the horizon. “That should give us enough time to check the place out.” He put an arm around Charley’s shoulder and gestured down the deserted street in front of them. “What do you think?”
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“It’s like stepping back in time. I can almost see horses tied to the rails, and women in long dresses stopping to talk to handsome cowboys.” Cole nodded in satisfaction. “And that’s exactly what you will see when it’s finished. Naturally, there will be some real stores, but we’re doing everything we can to turn Duncan Mills into a living museum. Cars won’t be allowed in here. People will have to park back in the parking lot and walk in. Actors will be putting on shows constantly. Everything from gambling in the saloon to gunfights in the street. And after our engineers are finished insuring their safety, we’re going to open the old silver mines for tours.” He pointed to the right as they walked. “That’s the stable. We’ll have a real working blacksmith in residence. Right next door will be the doctor’s office with original equipment, then the general store, and beside that an old-time photographer. The newspaper is on the other side of that. People will be able to see exactly how things were done back in the days when Duncan Mills was a thriving metropolis.” Charley was smiling up at him. “Sounds like Kristy infected you with some of her enthusiasm.” Cole laughed sheepishly. “You may be right. I think I’m looking forward to finishing this place more than I have any project in a long time. It’s like we’re preserving a piece of the past.” “If you feel that strongly about it, why did you put Kristy in charge? Wouldn’t you rather do it yourself?” He shrugged. “Kristy is a history buff. She’ll do a better job than I could. And besides, I had other things to take care of.” His finger brushed her cheek as he looked down at her. “What are those white marks on some of the buildings?” “That means they’ve been checked out and are safe to enter. A lot of these places were in pretty bad condition.” “Can we go in the saloon? I’d like to see it.” “I thought you might. They started work on it yesterday. The saloon and the hotel were actually in better shape than we expected.” He pushed open the doors and led Charley inside. Murky light filtered in through a set of dirt-covered windows at the front of the building, but it was enough to see the old bar that still held pride of place across one wall. The scent of long abandonment mixed with the odor of fresh sawdust. Charley moved to the bar and ran a finger across the top, leaving a line in the dust that covered the wood. “Are you going to keep it?” Cole nodded. “It looks pretty ratty right now, but I’ve got some specialists who are going to restore it. They seem to think it’s worth salvaging.” “I think they’re right. This looks like good wood under all the dirt.” She turned in a circle, her eyes squinting as she surveyed the room. “Wonder if there really were gunfights in here?”
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“Apparently. Kristy found some old newspapers that covered a span of about ten years. A few of them mentioned gunfights. The losers are still up on Boot Hill.” Charley shivered. “You may really have a few ghosts floating around.” She turned again and then pointed at the stairs. “What’s up there?” Cole smiled. “The rooms where the saloon girls ‘entertained’ their cowboys and miners.” “Oh, this I have to see.” She turned toward the stairs. “I’m afraid there’s not much there right now,” he said, as she started up. “All the rooms are empty.” “That’s okay.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I have a good imagination.” Charley had almost reached the top step when Cole felt the vibration. The stairs wobbled and a fine haze of dust sifted down from under the frame. “Charley, stop.” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice even as he moved carefully toward her. “What’s wrong?” She stood poised above him, looking down in puzzlement. “Don’t move. The stairs are loose.” “Loose?” Instantly she gripped the railing and the stairs groaned at the movement. She froze. “Cole?” “It’s okay, just stay still.” His mind spun furiously. If he started up after her, his weight would bring them crashing down. There were probably ladders in one of the other buildings, but he didn’t dare take the time to find one. There was only one thing they could do. “Charley, you’re going to have to jump. Do you think you can vault the railing?” Her face was pale, but she gave a tiny nod. “I think so.” “Okay, it’s going to have to be smooth. Don’t hesitate once you start. I’ll be here to catch you.” Fear constricted his chest so tightly he could barely breathe. “On three. Ready?” “Yes,” she whispered. He sucked air into his starved lungs. “One…two…three.” On the last number, Charley moved. With both hands gripping the rail, she vaulted. Time slowed to a crawl as the staircase began to move with her, and Cole’s horror intensified. Instead of collapsing, the stairs were toppling over right in their direction. Instinctively, he forced tensed muscles to relax and then reached for Charley. Letting her weight carry them to the floor, he rolled, taking her with him, covering her body with his own. The crash was deafening in the saloon, and Cole felt a whoosh of air next to him. Dust billowed, covering them in the sudden silence. For a second, neither of them moved. “Charley?” He raised his head to look at her. “I’m okay, I think.”
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Cole dropped his forehead onto hers, relief sweeping over him in giddy waves. “Thank God,” he whispered. “No,” she said. “Thank you. Those stairs would have crushed me if you hadn’t been there. I thought this building was supposed to be safe?” “So did I.” His tone was grim as he moved off of her. The edge of the stairs was less than an inch from their bodies, and he shuddered again at how close they had come. “And I intend to find out why it wasn’t.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. Both of them were covered head to toe in dust. “Let’s get out of here before something else happens.” “Good idea.” She took a step and winced. “Charley? What’s wrong?” “My leg. Maybe I’m not quite as ‘fine’ as I thought I was.” Cole looked down at her leg and his heart stopped again. “You’re bleeding!” Without thought, he scooped her up in his arms and headed out the door. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
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Chapter Eleven “Cole, I really don’t think it’s much more than a scratch. It just surprised me when I put my weight on it.” He balanced her carefully while he opened the car door, then slid her onto the seat. “Let me see.” Dropping to one knee in front of her, he turned her leg and examined the tear in her jeans. It wasn’t large enough to give him a view of the wound, so he inserted his fingers and tore the material all the way to the hem. Beginning at the top of her calf, the scratch ran to just above her ankle, ending at a small puncture. It wasn’t deep, but the sight of Charley’s blood infuriated him all over again. This should never have happened, and he would get to the bottom of it before the day was over. “Well?” Charley was looking in the other direction with great determination. “You were right, it’s just a long scratch, but it looks like you may have a sliver of wood just under the skin. I think I can get it out.” She squeezed her eyes shut and braced her hands on his shoulders. “Okay, go ahead.” Cole propped her foot up on his thigh and gripped the top of the splinter between his fingers. With one fast pull, he yanked the inch-long piece of wood out, and then stanched the fresh flow of blood with his thumb. “It’s out. You can look now.” She leaned over, looked, and shuddered. “I hate blood. Especially when it’s my own.” He checked to make sure the bleeding had stopped, then swung her feet into the car. “As soon as we get home, we can clean it out and bandage it.” And he desperately needed to sit down. Reaction was setting in, and his legs were so wobbly he could barely stand on them. Charley could have been killed, and the thought terrified him. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he started the car and backed out of the lot. The minute they were back on the highway, he reached for his cell phone and punched his home number. “Kristy? I want you to get Hank Farrell on the phone. Charley and I were just out at Duncan Mills and the staircase in the saloon collapsed while she was on it.” There was a second of shocked silence. “Oh, my stars. Are you both okay?” “Charley has a scratch on her leg, but we’re both fine. Now, I want to know who was responsible for marking that building safe when it obviously wasn’t, and I want to know tonight. I’ll be at Charley’s. Have Hank call me there, and he better have a damn good explanation ready when he does.”
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“Cole, that building was safe. I’d swear it. I was up and down those stairs myself at least a dozen times today with no problem.” “Well, there sure was a problem tonight,” he snapped. Charley’s head was leaned against the back of the seat, but she turned to look at him at his tone. He took a deep breath to try and calm down. “I’m sorry, Kristy. This isn’t your fault. Just get Hank out there to take a look. I don’t want any more accidents like this one.” “I’ll call him right now. Is there anything else you need me to do?” He glanced down at his dirty clothes. “Yeah. Can you bring me a change of clothes? I need to get Charley home, and I don’t want to leave her alone tonight.” The smile in Kristy’s voice was apparent when she answered him. “You bet. Shall I just bring your entire wardrobe?” Cole grinned. “I wish. See you later.” He clicked the phone off. “You wish what?” He glanced at Charley. Damn. She would have to pick up on that one thing from the entire conversation. “I think Kristy is trying to get rid of me. She just volunteered to bring all my clothes to your house.” He tried to sound casual, but was afraid he’d failed miserably. She was silent for so long they had almost reached Canyon Bend before she spoke. “And you said you wished? Why?” Cole turned onto her street and pulled into her driveway. This conversation had suddenly headed for shaky ground, and he wasn’t at all sure she was ready to take that step, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. Instead of getting out, he faced her. “For me, the thought of living together has a lot of appeal. Does the idea bother you?” She shifted nervously in the seat, her gaze moving away from him. “I don’t know. I think it surprises me more than it bothers me.” “Why does it surprise you?” Surprise? Shock would be more like it, Charley thought ruefully. She glanced at Cole’s face. He was watching her intently, and she got the impression that he was holding his breath. “Because you’ve only been back a few weeks now, and last night was the first time we spent the night together. I know it sounds clichéd, but isn’t this rather sudden?” He smiled and moved one hand to her nape. “I know what I want. Why waste time?” Her heart was trying to push the words of acceptance out of her mouth, but she hesitated. It would only make the pain worse when he left. She had to stall. “Why would you want to move into my place when you have the Carstairs house?” Warm fingers caressed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. “Truthfully, I’d rather you moved in there with me.” His voice dropped into the husky range. “Our house, Charley. It always has been, and it always will be. The only thing missing is you.”
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Tears welled in her eyes. He was right. It was their house. “That’s not playing fair, Cole, and you know it.” “Is it working?” She brushed at the moisture on her cheeks. “I can’t give you an answer now, Cole. I need time to think about it.” He pulled her closer and let his lips brush hers. “There’s no rush, Charley. I’m not going anywhere. Take all the time you need.” Now it was her turn to wish. She wished she could believe he would stay this time, but she couldn’t. Sooner or later he would vanish from her life. It was something she knew and accepted. Even as she watched his tall, muscular form move around the car, a tiny voice in her head was urging her to give in. Images of waking up with him every morning, sharing breakfast over the newspaper, lounging together on the couch after work while they talked, all tumbled through her mind rapid-fire. God, how she wanted it, ached for it. Ached for him so badly she could taste it. The car door opened, but when she would have stepped out Cole stopped her. “Oh, no you don’t. I’ll carry you.” “Cole, it’s not that bad. I can walk.” The look he gave her almost brought her heart to a standstill. “I know you can. But when I realized those stairs were falling with you on them, it scared me half to death. Let me take care of you tonight, Charley. It’s what I need to do.” She reached up and put her arms around his neck.
***** By the time someone knocked on the door an hour later, Charley was ensconced on the couch, her foot lying in state on a pillow Cole had placed on the stool. Not only had he insisted on bathing her and washing her hair, but after he’d disinfected her cut and bandaged it, he’d made tea for her. She’d never felt so pampered in her whole life. She could get used to this, real easy. “Don’t get up,” Cole told her when the knock sounded. “It’s probably Kristy.” “Like I could even if I wanted to,” she mumbled, reaching for her tea. He returned with an overnight bag in one hand and Kristy beside him. The blonde took one look at the thick layer of gauze that encased Charley’s leg from her knee to her ankle, and paled. “Oh, heavens. Are you sure you shouldn’t be in the hospital?” “I’m sure.” Charley tried to hide her grin behind her cup. “It’s just a scratch.” Kristy was still looking doubtful. “I’ve seen less bandages on people in dire need of massive surgery.” Charley laughed. “I promise, it isn’t as bad as it looks. I think Cole has just discovered a hidden fetish for gauze.” 80
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Cole’s face reddened slightly. “Okay, so I’m not a doctor. I figured if a little was good, a lot would be better.” Kristy grinned at Charley. “Can you walk like that?” “Only if I want to look like a penguin that fell into a bleach bottle.” She indicated the white terry cloth robe she wore. “Now I’m afraid to leave you alone with him. It’s a wonder he doesn’t have you in traction.” Charley almost dropped her tea. “I think the thought did cross his mind. But I promise, he’s a lot better nurse than he is a doctor.” “He’d almost have to be.” Kristy turned back to Cole. “I got in touch with Hank, and he was on his way to Duncan Mills when I left. He’ll call you as soon as he knows anything.” Cole nodded. “Good. Did he say how long it would take?” “No, but I’m sure it will be a few hours, at least. You know Hank. He won’t stop until he knows exactly what went wrong. Try to get some rest. Both of you,” she added, looking at Charley. “We will. Goodnight.” Charley smiled and waved as Kristy headed for the door. “I need to take a shower and get out of this dirt.” Cole picked up the carryall. “Will you be okay?” Charley grinned at him. “Unless the house catches on fire and I have to run for it.” He laughed. “Okay, maybe I did overdo it just a little. I’ll fix the gauze when I get out of the shower.” “Thank you.” Charley gave a sigh of heartfelt relief.
***** Cole hung up the phone and glanced at the clock next to the bed. It was after one a.m. Moving silently, he slid off the bed and into his jeans. Charley hadn’t even twitched when the phone rang, and he was just as glad. He needed time to think about what Hank had told him before he talked to her. His gaze moved over her. In spite of her attempt to act brave, he knew today had scared her badly. She had been emotionally exhausted by the time they went to bed, and he suspected his unplanned bid to get her to live with him hadn’t helped her state of mind. But at least she hadn’t said no. Barefoot, he padded into the kitchen and flipped on a light. Normally, coffee would be the last thing he’d want in the middle of the night, but there was little chance he’d sleep again, anyway. When it was finished, he poured a cup and carried it out onto Charley’s back porch, perching on the rail as he sipped the hot liquid. According to Hank, someone had deliberately sabotaged the stairs in the saloon. The braces had been knocked out from under them, and the nails had been pried loose
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from the frame. It was nothing short of amazing that Charley had made it as far up the steps as she had. If it had been his greater weight, they never would have held that long. Hank and one entire crew of men were going over every inch of Duncan Mills, making sure nothing else had been tampered with. Cole didn’t think they’d find anything. Whoever had done it knew that of all the buildings in the ghost town, the saloon was the most likely place for him and Charley to explore. And there was only one person who had known they were going to be there that evening. Victor Channing. Victor’s words from Charley’s birthday party ran through his mind again. “I’m warning you for the last time, Jordan. Stay away from my niece.” He’d thought it was an empty threat, but maybe Victor was more desperate than he’d realized. Desperate enough to risk hurting Charley just to get at him? Cole ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Nothing Victor did would surprise him. Briefly, he thought of calling Ben Zimmerman, then discarded the idea. What would he tell him? That he suspected Victor was trying to kill him? Not only would Ben laugh him out of the county, Charley would never speak to him again. No, he’d just have to keep his suspicions to himself. And keep a closer eye on Victor.
***** The ringing of the phone yanked Charley out of sleep, and groggily she reached for it before the murmur of a voice from the kitchen told her someone had already answered. Cole. The sheets on his side of the bed were cool, and the scent of coffee and bacon drifted on the air. She settled back down on the bed, her sleep-muddled thoughts going over everything that had happened yesterday. While terrifying, the accident took a backseat to Cole’s later revelation. He wanted her to live with him. Why? Because he cared about her? Charley rubbed her eyes, then rolled onto her stomach and cradled the pillow under her head. He certainly had been acting like it since the accident. After his shower they had cuddled up together on the sofa and watched TV, laughing like loons at a rerun of “Robin Hood, Men in Tights.” It had felt so good, just being with him. Somewhere deep inside, she knew she was halfway to telling him she would move in with him. And yet, something held her back. When he’d left last time, she’d only had his proposal and one night of love to deal with, and it had almost killed her. Could she survive a second time after sharing so much more with him? He had told her he wasn’t going anywhere, and she could tell he believed it. But whatever had taken him away from her before still hung between them. What was stopping it from happening again? She sighed, and pushed the thoughts from her mind. She loved him, and they were together. For now, today, that was all she would think about. Sooner or later Cole would tell her why he’d left. When he did, she would face
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the choices fate had handed her and deal with them. Until then, she just wanted to be happy. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she pulled a nightshirt out of a drawer and slipped it over her head. Cole was just hanging up the phone when she entered the kitchen, and she couldn’t resist putting her arms around him and snuggling against his chest. Every time they made love it seemed as though the bond they shared tightened even more. Face it, Charley, she thought. Even if he stayed forever, you’d never get enough of him. “Good morning.” She tilted her face up to look at him and was rewarded with a long, deep kiss. “Good morning to you, too.” He smiled down at her. “How’s your leg today?” “Not even sore. I think the patient will live, Dr. Jordan.” “And is the patient hungry?” “Starved. Is that bacon I smell?” He gave her another quick kiss and released her. “Bacon and scrambled eggs. I just finished eating. Sit down and I’ll get you a plate.” Charley pulled out a chair. “You know, you’re going to spoil me.” “I’m doing my best.” Cole grinned as he slid a pile of food in front of her. She dug in. “If you keep this up, I’m going to get fat,” she warned around a mouthful of eggs. Cole turned a chair backwards and straddled it, cup of coffee in hand. “Don’t worry. Even if you can’t fit through the door, I’ll still…” Charley peeped up from her food. He had the strangest look on his face. “Still what?” He shook his head. “Nothing. I lost my train of thought.” She gave a mental shrug. “Who was that on the phone earlier?” “That was Roger King. He’s the head of Jordan Security. I left a message on the machine in his office earlier and he was returning the call.” “Oh. Did Hank ever call?” Cole crossed his arms on the back of the chair. “Yes, he called a little earlier this morning. You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you.” “And?” “He said the stairs had been tampered with. The braces were knocked out from under them, and the nails pried loose from the frame.” A chill ran through Charley and she shivered. “You mean it was done deliberately? Why would someone do that?” Picking up his coffee, Cole took a drink before replying. “There’s not much telling. Maybe it was just a bunch of kids looking for some mischief to get into.”
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She frowned and put her fork next to her plate. “Kids don’t do things like that, Cole. They use spray paint, or break windows. I can’t see them going to all that trouble. This sounds like someone knew what they were doing. You know,” she mused, “it could be someone who doesn’t like what you’re doing here.” Her frown deepened. “Although the only one I know of who hasn’t been a hundred percent behind you is Uncle Victor, and it’s ridiculous to think he’d do anything like that.” When he didn’t answer she searched his face intently, a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. “Cole, you don’t think Uncle Victor is behind this, do you? What reason could he possibly have? He knows that one minor act of vandalism wouldn’t stop you. And in spite of his reservations, deep down he knows that this will be good for Canyon Bend.” “I don’t know who did it, Charley. We may never know.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “I think we should call Ben. He’s the sheriff. If someone is trying to sabotage the Duncan Mills project, he needs to know it. Maybe he’s even heard something.” “Charley, I doubt there’s anything he can do except chalk it up to vandalism. Whoever did it sure didn’t leave his business card. It was probably just a one-time thing.” “I’d still feel better if you called him.” Cole sighed, then smiled. “Okay, why don’t you go get dressed while I do that, and then we’ll head out to Sam Tyree’s. Don’t forget, you’re supposed to pick up your pup today.” “Thank you.” Charley leaned down and brushed his lips with hers. “I’ll be right back.”
***** They decided to take Charley’s Blazer since she wanted to stop and get supplies for her new pet. “Do you think I forgot anything?” she asked, eyeing the bags filled with puppy chow, bowls, flea shampoo, and a collar complete with leash, as they headed toward Sam’s ranch. “A fund for his college education?” Cole commented blandly. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’ve got the basics. If you need anything else, you can get it later.” “I guess you’re right. So, what did Ben say?” She turned back to face the front. Cole shrugged. “Pretty much what I told you he would. He’s going out to take a look and talk to Hank, but he doesn’t hold much hope of finding out who did it.” “Well, at least he knows.” She pointed. “The turnoff for Sam’s ranch is the next on the right.”
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Chapter Twelve The hot, wet tongue ran over her face with frantic enthusiasm, and Charley laughed. Her hands offered scant protection from the attack. The pup was too fast. He was half Malamute, and even at six weeks old, he was huge. Cole lowered himself to the floor next to her. Immediately the pup altered his attention, growling with mock puppy ferocity at Cole’s booted foot. “Have you decided what you’re going to name him yet?” Charley propped her head on one hand and smiled up at him. “No. Any suggestions?” “Nothing that wouldn’t sound stupid by the time he grew up.” He shrugged. “You’ll think of something.” “I think I just did. Whiskey.” She stood and lifted the pup, carrying him to his crate. “Do you like that name? Huh?” He gave a sharp bark, his tail wagging his entire body. “Okay, then Whiskey it is.” She deposited him in the crate. “Think you can survive a few hours alone tonight, fellow?” “Going somewhere?” Cole arched an eyebrow in question. Charley turned to look at him. “Yes. It’s Saturday night, Cole. I have to go to the Red Dog. I’ve been neglecting it for too long. Even with Frank and Diane both working, they’ll need some help.” “Want me to go with you?” She watched him unfold his lean body, and then put her hand on his chest. “There’s not much point.” She smiled to soften her refusal. “I’ll be busy all night, and we won’t close until early in the morning.” Cole’s arms went around her and pulled her against him, and for a moment, Charley just closed her eyes and luxuriated in his warmth. He made her feel safe, protected. Loved. The thought jarred her out of her complacency. It was all right to love him, she reminded herself, just as long as she didn’t start expecting the same in return. Down that path led more pain than she could handle. Regretfully, she started to push away from him, but his arms tightened, holding her in place. “Would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow?” She tilted her head back to meet his eyes and hesitated. “Can we do it Monday instead? I really need to go see Uncle Victor tomorrow. I think he’s feeling a little lonely lately.” Charley slid her hand up his chest to cup his nape. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow evening. I’ll fix something for supper.”
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“Deal.” He leaned down and kissed her, a long, deep kiss that had her gasping for air and weak-kneed when he finally released her. Her pulse was still hammering as he turned and picked up his keys, and the look in his eyes did strange things to her stomach. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” His voice was a husky murmur, and he brushed her lips again before leaving. Charley waited until the sound of his car faded in the distance, then went to change. The house seemed strangely empty without Cole in it. But she needed the time alone, away from him. She couldn’t think straight when he was near. And she had to think. Despite how she’d acted with Cole earlier, she was worried about the accident at Duncan Mills. Even though he hadn’t said so, she had seen his eyes when she’d said Uncle Victor wouldn’t do something like that. He didn’t believe her. For some reason, Cole thought her uncle was quite capable of arranging an accident like the one that had almost killed them. And she wanted to know why. She was beginning to feel like she’d been trapped in a giant jigsaw puzzle and she was a few pieces short of the entire picture. Brace yourself, Uncle Vic, she thought. Tomorrow, I’m going to get some answers.
***** The two-story Victorian house had changed very little since Charley had first come here as a child. Its white paint sparkled in the morning sun, the scent of roses and bougainvillea filling the air. All the windows were open, lacy curtains stirring in the soft breeze. She stopped the Blazer in the circle drive, stepped out, and paused for a moment, watching the hummingbirds busily flit from flower to flower, their tiny jeweled bodies dazzling to the eye. With one hand, she set the porch swing in motion as she walked to the door. As a young girl, she had spent uncounted hours on that swing, dreaming about Cole. At thirteen she’d thought he was the most handsome boy in the world. The fact that his clothes had been old and worn had only made him seem more romantic to her. Of course, at that age, he’d ignored her completely. But that hadn’t kept her from hoping. Hoping that some day he’d really look at her and see that she was the love of his life. And suddenly, the year she was a junior in high school, the miracle had happened. She could even pinpoint the exact moment he had really noticed her. Being head of the decoration committee for the junior-senior banquet had just been another way of saying, “congratulations, you get to do all the work.” The day before the banquet she was in the gym, hanging streamers. But when Cole walked in, she forgot everything she was doing. From her perch on the ladder, she had watched him, loving the way he moved. Even with a load of books under his arm he was graceful and assured. Craning to keep him in sight, she had over-balanced and knocked the cardboard box holding the rolls of 86
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crepe paper off the ladder. The box landed with a smack right in front of him, narrowly missing his head. Dying from embarrassment, she saw his eyes lift, run slowly over her from her feet to the top of her head, then back to her eyes. Suddenly, he’d smiled. Fighting an insane urge to tug down the hem of her short skirt, she almost fell in her haste to get off the ladder. “I’m sorry! It was an accident.” “That’s good to know.” His voice was a soft drawl, tinged with amusement. “I’d hate to think you were trying to kill me.” He picked up the box and handed it to her. “Are you going to the banquet tomorrow night?” She closed her mouth in horror, wondering what had possessed her to blurt the question out, knowing her cheeks were blood red. His gaze moved over her again. “No. I’m not. But the gym looks nice.” “Thanks,” she said inanely. He grinned at her again. “I have to go. Next time, Charley, hang on to the box.” Her heart had literally stopped beating. He knew her name. Charley chuckled at the memory. After that day, he’d talked to her every time they met in the halls, even flirted with her, and she’d waited impatiently for him to ask her out. But he hadn’t. Not until the night she’d graduated. Cole had been working at the gas station near the school, and she’d stopped to fill the tank of her truck, a graduation present from Uncle Victor. She still remembered the way her heart had lurched when she’d felt Cole’s hand close around hers on the nozzle. And the look in his eyes had almost sent the gas they were pumping up in flames. It had been obvious he was done waiting. That night had been the first time he’d taken her to the glade, but certainly not the last. It had been so hard not to give in to his attempts to make love to her, especially when she’d wanted him as badly as he did her. But the memory of her mother’s promiscuity had always stopped her. The thought of suffering the same heartbreak and gradual loss of self-esteem was more than she could bear. Until that last night. Charley sighed. She had been so sure that he loved her and wanted her that night. Why else would he ask her to marry him? So she had given in to her longings, her love. And it had been wonderful. Cole had taken his time, and in the process made it the experience that every girl dreams it can be. She still ached with longing every time she thought about it. The front door of her uncle’s house flew open to reveal Letta’s smiling face. “Miss Charley, are you gonna stand out there daydreaming, or are you gonna come in?” “Hi, Letta.” Charley returned the housekeeper’s smile. “Is Uncle Vic here?” “He’s in the study. You just go on in and I’ll set another place at the dinner table.” “Thanks, Letta, but I just ate breakfast about an hour ago. I promise I won’t keep Uncle Vic long, though.”
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“You visit all you want to, Miss Charley. Food won’t be ready for at least another hour yet.” Charley nodded and headed for the study. The doors were open and Uncle Vic was sitting in a chair by the window, a glass of iced tea near his hand and a book opened on his lap. She didn’t see Douglas until he shifted slightly. As usual, her uncle’s shadow chose to make himself almost invisible. It was uncanny, the way the man could vanish and still be in plain sight. “Douglas,” she smiled at him and got a polite nod in return. “Uncle Vic.” She leaned down and kissed her uncle’s cheek. “Charley! I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow. Douglas, go tell Letta that Charley will be here for dinner.” “Thanks, Uncle Vic, but I already told her I couldn’t stay. I dropped by today because I needed to talk you, and Cole is coming over for dinner tonight.” Victor’s smile faded a little. “Sit down.” He gestured at the chair next to him. “Seems like you and Jordan are spending a lot of time together lately.” Charley sat, turning so she could face him. “Uncle Victor, Cole has asked me to move in with him.” Carefully, he closed his book and placed it on the table. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, Charley? This is a small town. People are going to talk.” “Talk is the least of my worries. But I haven’t told him yes, yet.” Victor rubbed his eyes with one hand, and for the first time Charley noticed the lines on his forehead and around his mouth. He looked tired. “That’s what you’re here for? To get my blessing?” He shook his head. “I can’t give it to you, darlin’. I think you’d be making the biggest mistake of your life.” “No, that’s not why I’m here. The decision to live with Cole has to be mine alone, Uncle Vic.” She hesitated. “The reason I’m here is because there was an accident at Duncan Mills yesterday. If it hadn’t been for Cole, I might have been killed.” It was with a sense of relief that she watched her uncle’s face pale. “What happened?” he asked, his voice shaking. She told him, sparing none of the details. “At first, I thought it might be someone who was against the Duncan Mills project, but you’re the only one I know of who isn’t thrilled with the concept. I told Cole the idea was silly, but I got the impression he suspected you might be involved somehow.” Victor stood and moved to the window, his back to her. “Do you think I am?” “No, of course not. But I want to know why Cole thinks you might be, Uncle Victor. I want to know what’s going on between the two of you.” “What has he told you?” “That’s just it. He hasn’t told me anything. Not about you, not about why he left ten years ago. Nothing.”
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He was silent so long she had almost given up when he finally turned to face her. “You’re right. You need to know the truth.” Victor turned back to his chair. “I’m not proud of what happened, Charley. It started a long time ago, when I was younger and a lot more foolish. You see, I fell in love. In love with a woman who was married and had a child, a son.” He smiled ruefully. “I thought she loved me, too. We saw each other for over a year, and it was the most wonderful year of my life. And the most agonizing. I hated the thought of her living with a man she didn’t love, taking care of him, sleeping in his bed. I wanted her to leave him, but she wouldn’t. At first, she said she was staying for the boy, but near the end she finally told me the truth. She didn’t love me. Never had, as a matter of fact. She only wanted the things that my money could give her.” Charley watched him closely, her heart aching at the pain he must be feeling, reliving this part of his life. “Even after it was over, I didn’t stop loving her. I never have. That’s why I gave them a place to live for almost nothing. I couldn’t stand the thought of her living in a shack.” Shock ran over Charley, chilling her bone-deep as realization hit her. “Maggie Jordan. You’re talking about Cole’s mother.” “Yes,” her uncle said quietly. “I’ll go to my grave loving Maggie.” He raised his eyes to hers. “And that’s why Cole left you ten years ago. Somehow, he found out about me and Maggie.” Victor leaned forward and took her hands between his. “Charley, he confronted me with it. He’d already been dating you for a year then. He hates me for betraying his father, hates me for having an affair with his mother. He wanted revenge, and he used you to get it. He knew how much I loved you. So he made you fall in love with him, and when you did, he left you.” He dropped her hands in obvious agitation. “Do you know what it was like for me, Charley? You tried to hide it, but I could see how much you were hurting when he left. To have you in that much pain, and know that something I’d done in the past had caused it almost killed me. Please, darlin’. I’m begging you. Stay away from him. Don’t let him do the same thing to you again. For both of our sakes.” Charley could feel the blood draining from her face. Pain and anger mixed in equal measures, leaving her shaking and desperate. “Why? Why are you lying to me? I don’t know why Cole left me ten years ago, but I know he didn’t make me love him for revenge. He couldn’t. I’ve loved him since I was a little girl.” “I’m not lying to you, darlin’. You know I’d cut out my heart before I’d hurt you, but I can prove what I’ve told you.” He stood and left the room, returning shortly with something in his hand. It was a picture. Charley’s hand trembled as she took it. From edges yellowed with time, a much younger version of her uncle smiled down at the woman he was holding
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tightly against his side. The woman was Maggie Jordan. From the flag draped bandstand behind them, it must have been taken at the annual Fourth of July picnic. A sob caught in her throat. “No, I don’t believe it. I can’t let you do this.” Clutching the picture until her knuckles were white, Charley stood. “I have to leave.” Her voice was a scratchy whisper. “Charley, wait, please. Darlin’, you’re too upset to drive. Stay. Let me take care of you.” “No!” She backed away from his outstretched hand. “I have to get away from here. I have to think.” Spinning on her heels, she ran from the room, the echo of her frantic footsteps on the wood floor sounding as hollow as the emptiness in her chest. Gravel flew from the back tires of the Blazer as she gunned the motor. The tears that cascaded down her cheeks blurred her vision, turning the flower-lined driveway into a soft haze of color that flew by outside her windows. She wouldn’t believe it. Couldn’t allow herself to believe it. And yet, there was the picture, lying on the seat next to her where she’d dropped it. She had to get herself under control, had to think logically. Charley pulled the Blazer onto the shoulder of the highway and reached for the box of tissue in the glove compartment. Taking a deep breath, she blew her nose. There had to be a way to find out the truth. Her gaze went back to the picture. There had to be, and there was. Maggie Jordan. Pulling the cell phone from her purse, she made one quick call, then hung up and dialed again. “Frannie? It’s Charley. I need you to do me a favor. Call Cole and tell him I had to go out of town suddenly and I’ll see him tomorrow.” She paused for a minute, listening. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be back late tonight. You’re in charge of the Red Dog if anything comes up. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up before Frannie could ask any more questions and turned the cell phone off. There was a flight to California leaving in an hour. Putting the Blazer in gear, Charley made a U-turn and headed toward the airport. She didn’t see the dark green sedan pulled into a turn-off two hundred yards behind where she’d stopped. Nor did she see it back out and drop in behind her.
***** The silver Blazer wasn’t hard to follow. Sunlight glinted off its roof like a beacon, allowing him to stay far enough back that he wouldn’t be detected. Not that he was too worried about it anyway. If she did see him, he could always say he wanted to make sure she was okay. It had surprised him when she stopped. Luckily, he remembered the turnoff in time. He also hadn’t expected her to turn in the other direction. Where was she going?
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He got his answer thirty minutes later when the Blazer made a right turn toward the airport. Cursing under his breath, he watched her climb out and head into the terminal. There was only one reason she would be here. So, she hadn’t believed the lies. Somehow, he had known she wouldn’t, but he had still hoped. Hoped it would drive her away from Jordan for good this time. Slowly, he got out of the car and walked through the midday heat to the terminal. Even though he knew where she was going, he had to be sure. Mingling with a group of people waiting on luggage, he watched Charley stop at a ticket window, talk to the woman behind the counter, then pull out a credit card. When she headed for the gates, he trailed after her. His eyes scanned the number over the debarkation exit. Flight 729, to Los Angles. He’d been right. She was going to see Maggie Jordan. Choosing a spot across the terminal, partially shielded by a pillar, he turned his back to her and pretended to gaze out at the planes taking off and landing. In the wide expanse of glass, he watched her reflection.
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Chapter Thirteen As soon as the cab pulled to a stop in front of the Tudor-style house, the door flew open and Maggie Jordan ran down the steps. The tall blond man with her moved more slowly, a welcoming smile on his face. Charley only had time to register that he was a masculine version of Kristy before she was swallowed in Maggie’s arms. “Charley! Sweetheart, I can’t believe you’re here. Lord, I’ve missed you.” She stepped back, holding Charley at arm’s length while she looked her over. “You haven’t changed a bit since the last time I saw you. I was so thrilled when you called from the airport.” Charley had to smile at the enthusiastic greeting. Maggie didn’t look a day older than she had the first time Charley met her. Her light brown hair was cut shorter now, but her body was still slim and girlish. “I know this was rather spur of the moment, Maggie. I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted your plans for the afternoon.” “Nonsense.” Maggie waved away her words. “Seeing you again is more important than anything else we could have done today.” She turned to the man next to her. “Jim, this is Charley Hart. Charley, this is my fiancé, Jim McIntire.” “Mr. McIntire. It’s a pleasure.” While they shook hands, he was looking her over even more intently than Maggie had. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine. I’ve heard a lot about you from both Maggie and Cole.” A mischievous grin split his face. “So, do I call you Saint Charley, or is just Charley good enough?” The laugh that bubbled up inside her felt good. “Charley will work. I don’t know what they told you, but I promise, I’m no saint.” “Charley it is. And call me Jim. Why don’t we go in? You don’t have luggage?” Charley shook her head. “I’m only here for a few hours.” Maggie took her arm and led her inside. “We were just finishing lunch when you called. There’s plenty left if you’re hungry.” “Thank you, but I ate a little on the plane.” Charley looked curiously around the house. The hall floors were a deep, rich polished wood, and the rooms she could see into were elegantly furnished with antique pieces chosen to complement the light, airy spaces they filled. “Your house is beautiful, Maggie.” “Thank you, dear, but it’s not mine. It belongs to Cole.” She ushered Charley into a sitting room off the hall. “It really seems a shame that it’s going on the market in a few months.”
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“On the market?” Charley’s curiosity deepened. This was the place Cole had called home for so many years, and now that she thought about it, she could see his touches everywhere. “Please, sit down.” Maggie patted the leather couch next to her. “Yes, I’m afraid Cole is going to sell it. There’s really no need to keep it. After the wedding I’ll be moving in with Jim, and Cole doesn’t plan on coming back except for business trips. The house would just be sitting empty.” It felt like the whole world went still around her. “He’s not coming back here?” The ticking of the grandfather clock against the wall seemed unnaturally loud in her ears as she waited for Maggie’s response. “No. As much as I’d love to keep him close, this has never really been home to Cole. He never made a secret of the fact that sooner or later he was going back to Canyon Bend. Now that he’s there, I don’t think dynamite could move him.” Charley tried to force back the tears that were suddenly threatening to spill over, but Maggie saw them anyway. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Her hand covered Charley’s. “If Cole did something to upset you, tell me. I’ll take care of that son of mine.” Charley bit her lip and fought to get her emotions under control. “It’s not Cole. Not exactly.” She looked up and met Maggie’s sympathetic eyes. “I need to talk to you about the past, Maggie. I didn’t know where else to come for the truth.” Jim rose silently from the chair he’d sat in. “I think I’ll go make a pot of tea.” Maggie nodded absently as he moved out of the room. “If I know it, you can be sure I’ll always tell you the truth, Charley. Now, what seems to be the problem?” Without a word, Charley reached into her purse and pulled out the picture, handing it across to Maggie. The older woman took it, stared at it a second, then smiled softly. “Your uncle certainly was a handsome man, wasn’t he? I had no idea this picture was still around.” Charley’s heart plummeted. “You mean it’s true? You did date Uncle Victor?” Maggie’s eyes lifted to hers. “It’s no big secret, Charley. I dated Victor for about two months.” She glanced back at the picture. “This was taken at the Fourth of July picnic. It was the day I met Jack.” Her smile was back. “After I met him, I knew there could never be another man for me. He completely charmed me right from the first.” She gently touched the photo with one finger. “I’m afraid I disappointed Victor terribly. You see, he thought he was in love with me. He proposed later that night. But even if I hadn’t met Jack, I wouldn’t have accepted. I wasn’t in love with Victor.” Maggie sighed and handed the picture back. “I’m afraid Victor blamed Jack for my refusal. And he had enough connections in Canyon Bend that it was almost impossible for Jack to get a job.”
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Charley slipped the picture back in her purse. “It didn’t bother you that your husband worked in a factory?” Maggie shook her head. “Heavens, no. I loved Jack Jordan. I would have lived in a shack and starved to death if it meant being with him. Jack and I had something that money can’t buy. And it was enough. More than enough. Things like you see in this house are nice, Charley. They make life comfortable. But they are just things. Without love, without someone to share them with, they have no meaning. Jack and I may not have had the fancy trappings, but we had our love, and we had our son.” Charley looked down at the purse strap she had twisted into a knot. “Maggie, forgive me, but I have to ask this. Did you have an affair with my uncle after you married Jack?” She didn’t have to see Maggie’s face to hear her shocked gasp. There was an instant of silence. “No.” Maggie’s voice was calm. “And I think I’m beginning to see the problem. Is that what Victor told you?” Charley merely nodded her assent. Maggie hesitated. “Charley, I know how you feel about your uncle. He’s been more than a father to you, and I don’t want to say anything that will change your feelings for him. But please remember that Victor is only human, with the same faults we all have. He lied to you, Charley. We never had an affair.” “But why did he lie? You know, don’t you?” “I have my suspicions. However, they are just suspicions. And it’s not my place to talk about them. Only Victor knows his real motivation. Whatever his faults, he loves you. No one can doubt that.” “I know he loves me.” Charley watched Jim return with a tray and quietly pour tea. “But he hates Cole, doesn’t he? I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.” Maggie took the cup her fiancé handed her, and Charley saw their eyes meet in a silent communication. Jim gave her a slight nod. “Cole looks so much like his father.” Maggie sipped her tea. “He was a constant reminder to Victor that I’d loved another man. I believe that Victor convinced himself that if it weren’t for Cole, I wouldn’t have stayed with Jack. He was wrong, of course.” She set her cup on the table next to her. “You know, soon after I married Jack, I heard Victor was dating a woman from another city. I really hoped he’d gotten over me. But the relationship didn’t last long.” Charley hadn’t touched her own tea. “Why did he give you a place to live after Jack died?” Maggie shrugged. “I like to think it was because Victor is a kind man, and he is, you know. But I think he was also hoping that I’d turn to him. What he couldn’t seem to realize was that, after Jack, no man was good enough for me. At least, until recently.” She smiled at Jim and he returned the look with so much tenderness that Charley felt a lump swell in her throat.
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She wanted so badly to have what Maggie and Jim had obviously found with each other. If she could only be sure of Cole… Charley forced her mind away from what she might wish. “Does any of this have to do with why Cole left Canyon Bend ten years ago?” Before Maggie could answer, Jim interrupted. “You need to talk to Cole about that, Charley. It has to be his choice to tell you himself when he’s ready.” Maggie shifted restlessly on the couch. “I have a question for you, if I may?” Charley looked from Jim to Maggie. “Of course.” “Do you still love my son? Ten years is a long time, Charley. It can do funny things to people.” The gold ID bracelet glittered on her arm, and she turned it slowly. “Yes, ten years is a long time. A long time to wonder what you did wrong, wonder why the man who said he loved you vanished from your life without a trace. And it’s an even longer time to love someone when you think you’ll never see him again.” She paused to wipe away the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. “But I did. Cole is the only man I’ll ever love and time won’t change that.” Maggie was wiping a few tears of her own. “Then trust him, Charley. If you can do that, everything will turn out wonderful for both of you.” “I’ll try, Maggie. That’s all I can promise. And at the least, I’ll listen to what he has to tell me.” “That’s all I ask for, sweetheart.” She gave Charley a tremulous smile and pulled her into her arms for a hug.
***** The ringing of the phone pulled Charley from sleep the next morning, and she glanced at the clock as she answered. Almost ten-thirty. But then, she’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, not going to sleep until exhaustion had overpowered her. “Hello?” “Hi. Did I wake you?” She snuggled back down in the bed and closed her eyes, letting Cole’s voice wash over her. “Yes, but that’s okay. It’s time to wake up if we’re still going on that picnic.” “We are. Can you be ready in about an hour?” “Sure. I just need to take a shower. Do you want me to bring anything?” “Just yourself. Mrs. Paulson has the food under control.” His tone softened, took on a husky quality that had Charley’s heart beating faster. “I missed you last night.” “I missed you, too.” “You should have called me.” A smile played across Charley’s lips. “I thought about it, but it was late when I got home. I didn’t want to bother you.” 95
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“Being with you is never a bother, day or night.” There was a brief hesitation on his end of the line. “How was your trip?” Her smile increased at his subtle attempt to gain information. “Tiring. I’ll tell you all about it later.” Her smile faded. “As a matter of fact, I think there are a lot of things we need to talk about.” This time the hesitation was more pronounced. “Did you visit your uncle yesterday?” “Yes, before I left.” She heard him sigh, could picture him rubbing his forehead. “You’re right. There are some things we need to talk about. I’ll pick you up. And Charley?” “Yes?” Another pause. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later.” She dropped the phone back into its cradle and crawled out of bed, heading straight for the shower. Apparently Maggie had honored her request not to tell Cole she’d been in California. She wanted the chance to talk to him first. As soon as she had the water temperature correctly adjusted, Charley stripped off her nightshirt, delaying long enough to stretch before stepping under the warm spray. She took her time, tilting her head back, arms raised as she turned slowly, letting the water flow over her. If she kept her eyes closed, she could imagine the liquid was Cole’s hands running over her. Instantly, her nipples peaked into hard tips, and the heat that curled low in her stomach shot tendrils of fire between her legs. Damn. She shook her head vigorously, her wet hair sending droplets of water splashing against the tile-covered wall and shower door. If she didn’t stop, she’d jump him as soon as he walked through the door, and she was determined they would talk first. With something akin to resignation, she grabbed the soap and got busy. After rinsing the shampoo from her hair, Charley shut off the water, and slid the stall door back, feeling blindly for the towel. She frowned. It had to be there. Her hand reached farther. “Looking for this?” Her eyes flew open and a squeal of surprise burst from her lips. “Cole! How did you get in?” “It’s amazing what you can do with a credit card and a lock.” He grinned wickedly and tossed the towel to one side as he started toward her. “I decided an hour was too long to wait.” “How long have you been here?” “Long enough to know I was right. There’s nothing like watching a woman take a shower to harden your resolve.” Charley held him off with one hand on his chest. “Now, Cole. You’re going to get your clothes wet.” 96
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“I can take care of that.” He began to unbutton his shirt. Her gaze followed every movement, drinking in the sight of his flesh as each inch was uncovered. God, he was magnificent. His thick hair spilled down onto his forehead, framing those smoldering brown eyes. The heat that had started earlier was fanned into a conflagration as she watched him unfasten his belt, watched as his jeans slid down narrow his hips and exposed long, tightly muscled legs. He paused only long enough to take a condom from his pocket and remove it from the foil wrapping. They could talk later, Charley decided somewhat dazedly. “I’m still wet.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded choked. Cole reached for her and lifted her from the shower, letting her slide slowly down his body until her feet touched the floor. His arms went around her, pulling her tightly against him. The edges of his hands skimmed the water down the skin on her back. “I’ll dry you. One inch at a time. Starting here.” His tongue marked a path up her neck to the hollow below her ear, then across her jaw to the corner of her lips. Lightly, teasingly, he traced the full outline of her mouth. “Charley,” he whispered, his breath sweet on her lips. “I missed you so much. There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t ache for you.” With a groan, she buried her hands in his hair and pulled his mouth against hers. Now it was her tongue that teased his, her mouth that moved across his chest, tasting the glorious texture of his skin. When she moved lower, the muscles of his stomach tightened in anticipation. A feeling of power swept over her as she sank to her knees. She was the one who could make him feel like this. Her touch alone could drive him to the edge of ecstasy and then beyond. Gently, she kissed the velvety skin, circled it with her tongue. She was rewarded by the fisting of his hands in her wet hair, by the trembling of his legs. And when she took him fully into her mouth, by the gasp of agonized pleasure that erupted from his lips. Cole was dying. The heat of Charley’s mouth surrounded him. Every movement, every pressure, sent a new surge of exquisite torture through him. He never wanted it to stop, had to make it stop before it was too late. He tried to pull away, but failed. Head thrown back, eyes closed, teeth clenched, he drowned in the sensations. At the last instant, he wrenched himself away, gasping for air like a man drowning. “No,” he moaned when she reached for him again. His legs were so weak he didn’t know how he could still stand, much less carry Charley to the bed. But he didn’t have to. She stood, picked up the condom, and pulled him into the bedroom. Together, they collapsed across the bed. When his mouth covered hers, she arched toward him. Frantically, his hands moved over her taut breasts, forcing her nipples into rounded marbles of desire. He was crazy with his need for her. Rising to his knees between her legs, he opened her with his thumbs, gazing down at the passion-swollen flesh. “God, you’re beautiful,” 97
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he groaned. Dipping his head, he tasted, savored, caressed, until she writhed beneath his mouth. When she whimpered mindlessly, he could stand it no more. Replacing his mouth with his fingers, he fumbled the condom on one-handed, and then plunged his erection into her, hard and deep. Eyes locked on her face, he watched as the climax hit her and her whole body convulsed around him. Watched as she screamed his name when he joined her, his own climax spilling into her waiting, ready body. “I love you, Charley,” he whispered, knowing she was too deep in her own pleasure to hear him. When the tremors had passed, he rolled weakly to the side, taking Charley with him. He couldn’t bear to let her go yet. Would never be able to let her go. A feeling of desperation washed over him and he tightened his arms around her. “You belong to me.” The fiercely spoken words were out before he could stop them. Charley went still. “Yes,” she whispered into his neck. “I do.”
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Chapter Fourteen Cole finished buttoning his shirt, then tucked it into his jeans, his eyes never leaving Charley. How had he lived ten years without her when now it almost killed him to go a whole day not seeing her? She had finished dressing and was standing in front of the mirror, putting her hair into a ponytail. Every time her gaze met his reflected image, she smiled. And every time she did, his heart would flip in his chest. She had said she belonged to him. The memory made him want to shout with victory. He rolled it over in his mind again, savoring the feeling. Did this mean she was ready to move in with him? Or even better, agree to marry him? That was one of the things he planned on finding out before the day was over. Unable to resist touching her again, he walked up behind her and nuzzled her neck. “Ready for that picnic?” “Almost.” She glanced down at the pup lying near her feet. “I want to put Whiskey out in the backyard first. He probably needs the fresh air.” “We can take him with us if you want to.” Charley leaned over and scooped the pup up. “Maybe next time. I don’t want to spend the whole afternoon keeping him out of mischief.” Cole followed her out the back door, then through the gate and around the house to the Jag. “Wouldn’t you rather take the Blazer?” “No, where we’re going, we won’t need it.” Charley glanced at him over her shoulder as he opened the door for her. “Where are we going?” “To the glade.” She didn’t even look surprised, and he suspected she’d known all along. “Okay.” Cole reached across Charley and fastened her seat belt. When she arched a brow at him, he grinned. “Living in L.A. makes you a firm believer in seat belts.” He backed the Jag into the street and turned toward the city limits. In spite of the sun and heat, he’d put the top down on the car. He glanced at Charley to gauge the effect of the wind and found her watching him. “Your house is beautiful. Are you really going to sell it?” For an instant, Cole went blank. His house? He glanced at her. There was only one house he owned that was going up for sale soon. “You went to California?” He down-
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shifted as a curve came into view. “What were you…” he paused, frowning at a sudden resistance in the steering wheel. He’d had the Jag thoroughly checked out before his trip back to Canyon Bend. There shouldn’t be anything wrong with it. Even as the thought appeared, the resistance increased. Charley didn’t seem to realize there was a problem. “I had a nice long visit with your mother. It was wonderful to see her again. And I liked Kristy’s father quite a bit. It was easy to see how in love he is with your mother.” Cole’s hands gripped the wheel until his knuckles whitened. Charley’s words were lost in a sudden surge of panic. Something was wrong, badly wrong. The steering was barely responding to his movements now. They were quickly approaching a curve, and the Jag lurched as he tried to pull it back into line. What little control he had left seemed to be deteriorating rapidly. He hit the brake to slow the vehicle, and to his horror, the pedal went all the way to the floor. The emergency brake proved just as useless. “Cole? What’s wrong?” He could hear the panic creeping into her voice. “Hang on, Charley.” Tires screamed on pavement as the Jag went up on two wheels in the sharpest part of the curve. The stench of over-heated rubber swept past them. He down-shifted into second, using the action to slow the car, but his relief was short-lived. They were still going too fast. Adrenaline raced through his blood stream like a locomotive, enhancing his strength enough to wrestle the steering wheel back to the left. Metal gears ground as he shifted into first, and the car slowed even more. He actually thought they were going to make it. They were at the end of the curve, heading onto a straight, level stretch of road, when the wheel suddenly loosened under his hands. The steering was gone. As if in slow motion, his eyes focused on the tree that loomed dead ahead. Instinct taking over, Cole threw one arm across Charley and braced himself. Helplessly, he watched as the Jag plowed into the tree. There was one second of agonizing pain before something slammed into his chest, then darkness descended, Charley’s scream still ringing in his ears.
***** “Charley? Please, baby, wake up.” Cole. His voice sounded frantic, and she frowned, wishing the screaming wail would stop so she could hear him better. Hands lifted her eyelids and a blinding glare filled her vision. She tried to push the hands aside, to turn her head away, but pain shot from her temple to the back of her head. A gasp escaped her lips. “It’s okay, Charley. Don’t move. The paramedics are here. They need to examine you.” 100
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Paramedics? A cascade of images flashed through her mind. Cole fighting to control the car. A tree. Panic filled her and she struggle to rise. Hands pushed her back and held her. “Cole!” “I’m right here, baby. I won’t leave you.” She felt him grip her hand, and hung on tightly. The light vanished from her eyes, and she blinked, forcing them to stay open. People surrounded her, loomed over her, the images blurred and doubled. Her desperate gaze found Cole, tried to focus on him. His face was snow-white and a trickle of blood ran down his cheek. His left arm was clutched against his chest. “You’re hurt.” Her voice came out a cracked whisper, but he heard her. “It’s just a scratch.” The smile he gave her was forced and full of pain. Her view of him cut off abruptly as a paramedic leaned in front of her. “Miss Hart? I’m going to put a neck brace on you. Try not to move.” He slipped the thick padding gently under her head and fastened it on the side. “We’ve already got you on the back board, now we’re going to lift it onto the stretcher. Just relax and let us do the work.” At the first jarring movement, blackness threatened to wash over her again, and she felt her hand slipping from Cole’s. “No!” “He’s right next to you, Miss Hart. We just need to get you in the ambulance.” The man’s voice was smoothly placating. “Mr. Jordan is going with us.” Sky and trees spun sickeningly above her as the stretcher was lifted and turned. Nausea coiled in her stomach. Good, she thought, half hysterically. If she threw up on him, the man was bound to move and let Cole close to her again. There were some clicking noises, and the stretcher finally came to rest inside the ambulance. The back doors slammed shut and the vehicle began to move, siren still screaming. When the paramedic leaned to one side, she finally found Cole. He was sitting across from her, another man checking his left arm, but his eyes were fixed on her. Reaching across the narrow aisle, he folded her hand gently in his, and she felt it tremble. “I love you, Charley.” His lips barely moved as he spoke the words, but she’d heard it. Hadn’t she? Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision even more. She had to see his face, had to see if he’d really said it, if he’d meant it. She tried to brush the tears away, but the paramedic caught her hand. A sharp stick brought her attention back to what he was doing. “I’m starting an IV, Miss Hart. It’s just standard procedure. Nothing to worry about. We’re almost at the hospital now.” Charley didn’t care about the IV, didn’t care about the pain or the hospital. She only wanted to know if she’d imagined Cole’s words. She lifted her head, trying to see around the paramedic, but the neck brace prevented the movement.
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“Cole?” The back doors flew open again, and hands guided the stretcher into the emergency room. “I’m here. I won’t leave you.” “Mr. Jordan, we need to get her to CT.” “Then I’ll go too. I’m not leaving her.” Charley listened to the voices as lights flashed by overhead. “Look, Mr. Jordan. She’s going to be fine. We need to check your arm. It may be broken.” “It can wait.” “Stop, please!” Charley pleaded. “For just a minute, I promise.” The movement stopped, and suddenly Cole was there, leaning over her. Charley wet her lips. “In the ambulance. You said…” Words failed her. What if she’d been wrong? She couldn’t just blurt it out. But she didn’t have to. He knew. “I said I love you, Charley. I’ve never stopped.” “Oh, Cole.” Her breath caught on a sob but she forced it down. It was true, she hadn’t imagined it. “Go let them check your arm. I’ll be fine.” He hesitated. “Are you sure?” “Yes. Go.” Cole brushed her lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll be here when they finish. I love you.”
***** “Hey, gorgeous, are you gonna sleep the day away?” Cole brushed a strand of hair from Charley face. Her lips quirked up at the corners, but her eyes stayed closed. “Maybe I need a prince to kiss me awake.” “Sounds like my kind of job description.” He slid his arm around her and kissed her, holding her tightly. “God, Charley. I was so afraid when I couldn’t wake you up.” His throat hurt with the depth of his emotion. “Don’t ever do that to me again. I don’t think I could live without you.” There was a bandage under the corner of his eye, and she traced it with her fingers. “It scared me, too.” Her gaze met his. “It’s amazing how something like an accident can put things into perspective, isn’t it? I keep thinking, what if one or both of us had been killed? I never would have had the chance to tell you I love you.” Joy arrowed through his body. “Charley,” he whispered. “There’s so much we have to talk about.” “I know.” Her fingers raked through his hair. “And we will. Later. I think it may take a while.” Her gaze moved over him until it reached the cast that covered his left forearm from wrist to elbow. “Your arm!”
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He held it up. “It is just a partial fracture. They put the cast on to keep it immobile. It barely aches, and they gave me an analgesic for that. You, on the other hand, have a mild concussion. The doctor said they’d keep you here a few more hours just to be on the safe side, but then we can get you home.” The curtain encircling the emergency room cubicle stirred, and they both looked up as Ben Zimmerman stepped into view. “Well, considering the shape that car’s in, you both look amazingly good.” He took a notebook from the pocket of his khaki uniform. “Feel up to telling me about it?” Cole shrugged. “Sure, but there’s not much to tell. First the steering went, then the brakes. Then we hit the tree. Thank God the air bags worked.” Ben put the notebook away. “Sounds like it might have been electrical. I had the tow truck take it to Bob Stanton’s garage. He’ll check it out and get back to you.” He moved around to the side of the bed and looked down at Charley. “That’s some knot you got on your forehead, kid. How do you feel?” “Other than a headache, not bad.” “Cole’s right. Be glad the air bags worked. And that you had your seat belts on. Now, there’s a whole waiting room full of people out there who want to see you. I’ve been holding them off at gunpoint, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep them out.” “Who’s here?” Ben glanced at Cole. “Half the county, I think. Victor, Douglas and Frannie made it to the hospital before I did. And Kristy wasn’t far behind. Then there’s this little tiny woman who talks like a six-foot-four, three-hundred-pound wrestler.” Cole laughed. “That would be my housekeeper, Mrs. Paulson.” He stood. “I’ll go out and talk to them. Charley really doesn’t need to have them all in here right now.” “I’ll stay here with her.” “Thanks, Ben.” As soon as he stepped into the hall, everyone surrounded him. Cole held up his hand as they bombarded him with questions. “Charley is fine.” He gave them a brief rundown of what had happened. “The doctor is going to let her go in a few hours.” “She shouldn’t stay alone,” Victor said. “I’ll take her home with me. Lettie can keep watch on her tonight.” Cole pinned him with a chilly look. “She won’t be alone. She’s coming home with me. And that’s where she’s going to stay.” Victor glared back at him. “What does Charley think about that?” “She agrees.” Cole looked at Frannie, completely ignoring Victor. “We’re going to need a car. Think you can find one to rent?” “Of course. I’ll call the agency and they’ll bring one over.” Kristy touched his arm. “Is there anything I can do?”
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Cole rubbed his forehead, thinking. “Can you go by Charley’s and get Whiskey? Then, you and Mrs. Paulson may as well go home. We’ll be there in a few hours.” “She’ll need some clothes, too,” Frannie said. “I’ll run over with Kristy and help her pack some things. I know where Charley keeps the spare key. Would it be all right if I looked in on her before I go?” “Sure. Just run Ben out.” Frannie smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t stay long.” She pushed open the door and went in. “I’m going to see her, too. And don’t try to stop me Jordan. She’s my niece.” As much as he’d like to keep the man away from Charley, Victor had a point. If he wanted to raise a fuss, he’d win. He was legally Charley’s next of kin. Cole nodded. “Wait here. As soon as Frannie is done, I’ll see if Charley wants to talk to you.”
***** When Frannie left to run her errands, Cole took Charley’s hand. “Your uncle is waiting to see you. Do you feel up to it?” Her hand tightened on his and Cole frowned. “Is something wrong? You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, Charley.” She sighed. “I suppose I better. Knowing Uncle Victor, he won’t leave until I do. And despite everything, he must be worried about me. Just stay with me.” “I will.” He leaned over and brushed her lips with his, then stood. A nurse came in to check her vitals while Cole went to the door. “Victor? She’ll see you.” When Douglas would have followed, Cole blocked his path. The man’s icy, unblinking eyes gave him chills. “I said Victor. No one else.” Without a word, Douglas positioned himself next to the door. Crossed arms stretching his suit over bulky muscles, he watched as Victor trailed Cole inside. The nurse was just leaving as they reached Charley. “What did she say?” Charley smiled at him. “She said everything looks good.” Her gaze moved to her uncle as she reached for Cole’s hand again. “Uncle Vic.” He came to the other side of the bed. “How do you feel, darlin’?” “Pretty good, considering. There’s no need for you to worry. The doctor says I’m fine. They’re going to release me soon.” Victor touched her cheek. “Why don’t you come home with me? Lettie can cook all your favorites, and we can take care of you.” Cole fought to suppress his anger. “I told you, Victor. She’s coming home with me.” Victor glanced back down at Charley. “Is that what you want, darlin’?” She turned to Cole, her gaze meeting his for a long moment. “Yes. That’s exactly what I want to do, Uncle Vic.” Charley looked back at her uncle. “I’ll come see you in a few days, I promise. There are some things we need to talk about.” 104
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Victor studied her expression, then nodded. “If you’re sure.” “I’m very sure.” “Call me tomorrow and let me know how you are?” “I will.” They both watched him leave, then Cole sat on the side of the bed next to her. “Thank you.” Charley looked surprised. “For what?” “For letting me take you home with me.” “Where else would I go?” She pulled him down for another kiss.
***** Cole pulled the white Ford Taurus as close to the front door as he could get it. Thank God Frannie had thought to rent an automatic. His left arm was throbbing now, and he knew the time for another painkiller had come and gone, but he wanted to get Charley settled before he took one. “How are you doing?” “I’m tired,” she smiled at him. “But thrilled to be out of the hospital.” “Still dizzy?” “Just a little.” He got out of the car and went around to her side. “Put your arms around my neck and hang on.” He lifted her, being careful of his arm. “I can walk, Cole. You don’t have to carry me.” “Up three flights of stairs, and you dizzy? Not a chance. Besides, it gives me an excuse to hold you.” He paused long enough to kiss her. The front lights came on and the door opened, outlining Kristy’s form. She was already dressed for bed, a flannel robe covering her from neck to feet. “I thought I heard a car.” She stood back and held the door for them. “We were beginning to wonder if they were going to release you tonight. Mrs. Paulson has already gone to bed, but she left you some food.” She followed them up the stairs. Cole nodded. “Did you get Charley’s things?” “Yes. Her night clothes are on your bed, and the rest are in your closet.” The idea of Charley’s clothes hanging next to his sent a funny feeling through his middle and he glanced down. Charley was studying his face intently, and he knew she was feeling the same thing. He smiled at her, and she returned it tentatively before glancing over his shoulder at Kristy. “Whiskey?” “He’s curled up on my bed, asleep. Don’t worry about him. You both need to rest. I’ll take care of him tonight.” 105
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“Thanks Kristy. For everything.” “It was my pleasure. Frannie helped quite a bit, too.” The bed was already turned back and the pillows fluffed, Cole noted as he carried Charley into the room. A tray filled with food sat on a table near the window. Kristy stopped in the doorway as Cole deposited Charley on the bed. “Do you need some help getting changed?” Charley shook her head, then winced. “No, I can manage it.” “And if she can’t, I can help her,” Cole added, noting with interest the blush that climbed into Charley’s cheeks at his words. Kristy laughed. “In that case, I’ll head off to bed. But if you need me, just give a yell. Goodnight.” Cole closed the bedroom door behind her, then turned back to Charley. “Does being here embarrass you?” She was looking around the room as though it were the first time she’d seen it. “No, it doesn’t embarrass me. It just feels strange.” She glanced back at him. “But it feels right, too.” “It feels better than right. You belong here, with me.” He took a deep breath. “Why don’t you get changed, and crawl into bed? I’ll bring the food over here.” Charley kicked off her shoes and reached for the nightgown Kristy had left out. “I think I’m too tired to eat.” He waited until she was dressed then carried the tray over. “At least try the soup. You haven’t had anything all day.” “Neither have you.” She smiled at him and picked up the cup. “Don’t worry, I’ll eat.” Before she was half done, her eyes were drifting shut. Cole took the cup from her hand and put it, and the tray, back on the table. By the time he’d tucked her in, she was out like a light. For a moment, he stood looking down at her. She’d been in no shape tonight for the talk they needed to have, but tomorrow they would have to get through it. He could only hope she’d believe him. Quietly, he left the room and went into his office, picking up the phone and dialing. “Mom? I hear you had a visitor yesterday.”
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Chapter Fifteen The low murmur of voices and the rattle of dishes that drifted in from the patio woke Cole. He didn’t even have to turn his head to find Charley. She was snuggled in the circle of his arms, her head resting near his right shoulder. His left arm, the one in the cast, was around her waist. The rest of her was curled tightly against his body. It felt so right to have her here, in his bed, in his arms, in this house. He wanted to smile, but a faint tinge of uneasiness stopped him. It was just too good to be true. His mind wandered back to the conversation with his mother last night. She hadn’t told him much, but he’d gotten enough information out of her to know that Charley had been asking questions about Maggie and her Uncle Victor. What lies did he tell you this time, sweetheart? he wondered. Whatever they had been, Victor must have planted some doubt in her mind to send her rushing to California like she had. Maybe she was ready to believe the truth now. The arm she was lying on had gone numb and he wiggled his fingers slightly to restore circulation. Trying not to wake Charley, he slid out from under her and eased to the side of the bed just as a gentle knock sounded on the bedroom door. Donning the pants he’d left out the night before, Cole padded across the room and opened the door a crack. Kristy smiled at him. “Sorry to wake you, but Mrs. Paulson almost has breakfast ready out on the patio.” Cole ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “What time is it?” “Close to eleven. We didn’t want to bother you earlier. You both needed the rest.” Cole nodded. “Okay. I want to shower first, if I can figure out how to keep this out of the water.” He indicated the cast. “Take your time. It’ll be a few minutes yet.” She headed back out to the patio and Cole closed the door. When he turned back to the bed Charley’s eyes were open, and she smiled at him. The bruise on her forehead was a dark, angry blue. “Good morning.” He returned her smile. “How do you feel today?” Charley sat up and stretched. “Wonderful. No headache, no dizziness, no double vision.” She paused. “I am a little stiff though. Did I hear something about a shower?” Cole sat down on the bed next to her. “You did. I was wondering how to take one with this.” He held his arm up. She threw the blankets aside. “Maybe with a little help from a friend?” “That sounds interesting.” “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? So what are we waiting on?”
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***** “Let me do that. At the rate you’re going, we’ll never get to eat.” Cole looked down as Charley swatted his hands away and deftly finished buttoning his shirt. Happiness flooded him. He still couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream, that Charley was here with him, and acting very wifely. A silly grin adorned his face at the thought. She glanced up at him and frowned. “What’s that look for?” “Look?” “Yeah. Look. Kind of like you just figured out how to rig the lottery.” Laughter erupted from deep inside him. “Have I told you this morning that I love you?” Charley tilted her head and gazed up at him. “I do seem to remember something like that in the shower when you—” “Charley!” She smiled innocently. “Well, you did.” Cole wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him. “I know, but I wasn’t quiet sane then. Now I am, and I still love you.” “Probably just the afterglow.” She gave him an impish grin. “Not a chance.” He kissed her tenderly. “I’ll love you when we’re too old to have afterglows.” “And how old will we be when that happens?” Cole smiled at her. “I figure about a hundred and fifty.” Her smile trembled a little. “That’s a long time, Jordan. Think you’ll still be around?” “I can guarantee it,” he whispered into her hair. “Nothing or no one is going to make me leave you again, Charley. I’ve waited too long to hold you, love you.” She leaned back a little to see his face. “Isn’t it time you told me the truth about what happened ten years ago?” Cole studied her expression. “Yes. I think it is.” He released her and took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go have breakfast. We can talk while we eat.” Mrs. Paulson had really outdone herself, Cole thought with amusement as he surveyed the long buffet table set up to one side of the patio. He and Charley loaded their plates with melon balls, crepes with blueberry-filled centers, bacon, eggs Benedict and steaming coffee, then carried them to an umbrella-covered table near the pool. Charley was digging in with a vengeance. “Does she always fix breakfast like this?” she mumbled around a mouthful. “No,” he laughed. “She’s showing off because you’re here. We usually have to fend for ourselves in the morning.”
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“Cole?” Kristy’s disembodied voice came from an intercom set in the wall to his right. He put his fork down and tilted his chair backwards, pushing a button as he spoke. “Yes?” “Ben Zimmerman is here. He says he has to talk to you.” “Send him up, Kristy.” He let his chair back down with a thunk and looked at Charley. “Sorry. Maybe he won’t stay long.” She met his gaze with a direct one of her own and a shrug. “I’ve waited ten years. I guess a few more minutes won’t hurt.” “I know.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “But while you’re waiting, there’s something I want you to understand. I never stopped loving you, Charley. Not for one single minute during that whole time, and I will never, ever stop loving you. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that.” Her green-gold eyes misted and the fingers twined with his tightened, but before she could say anything, the glass doors slid open and Ben stepped out. Keeping Charley’s hand in his, Cole nodded at the sheriff. “Ben. Help yourself to some breakfast.” “Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. I will take some coffee though.” He picked up a cup, filled it, then joined them at the table. “How are you both doing today?” Cole glanced at Charley. “We’re fine. What brings you out here today?” Ben took a sip of coffee, then set the cup on the table. “I got a call from Robert Stanton about thirty minutes ago. He’s been looking over your car.” “And? Was it the wiring?” “Not exactly.” The sheriff played with the handle on the cup for a second, his gaze going from Charley to Cole. “Robert says the drive train and the brakes had both been tampered with.” Cole went still, only peripherally aware of the blood draining from Charley’s face. “Are you saying someone deliberately tried to kill Cole?” She was staring at Ben in shock. “It sure looks that way, Charley. Robert is a good mechanic. He doesn’t get much chance to work on a car like that, so he was taking his time. He said there’s no way it could have been an accident, although if he hadn’t been so thorough he might have missed it.” “But who would want to kill Cole? And why? This is a lot different than rigging a set of stairs to collapse, Ben.” Ben took his hat off and tossed it into the chair next to him. “The who is why I’m here.” He gave Cole a long look. “Any idea who might hate you enough to want you dead, Jordan?”
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Cole took a deep breath, knowing what he was about to say could drive Charley away from him forever. “I only know of one man who hates me that much.” He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t stand to see the expression on her face. Ben pulled a notebook out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Who?” “Victor Channing.” “No.” The word was a mere breath of air but he heard it, felt her stricken eyes on his face. He still couldn’t look at her, but he held onto her hand when she would have pulled away, pleading silently for her to give him a chance to explain. Ben had paused with his pen against the paper. “Victor Channing is one of our leading citizens. He’s always been active in charitable causes and he’s helped hundreds of families in the area that couldn’t have made it on their own. So tell me, why should I believe that a man like Victor Channing tried to kill you?” Cole’s cast temporarily blocked his view of Ben as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Even though he’d been about to tell Charley the whole story, he hadn’t wanted it to be under these circumstances. He lowered his arm and looked at Ben. “Because he hates me. He’s always hated me. Not only am I Jack Jordan’s son, I actually had the audacity to fall in love with his niece. And she loved me.” He couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to look at Charley. Her eyes were huge dark pits in the whiteness of her face, and the bruise stood out in stark relief. He wanted to put his arms around her, hold her until the rest of the world went away. “She loved me,” he repeated, his eyes holding hers. “Poor Cole Jordan. The boy from across the tracks with no future. The son of the man who married the only woman that Victor has ever loved.” Ben held up a hand. “Hold on. You lost me. Can we start at the beginning?” Cole reluctantly looked away from Charley. “It’s really pretty simple, Ben. Victor was in love with my mother, but she married Jack Jordan. And when Dad died, he transferred that hate to me. You see, he thought Mom would turn to him. He even gave her a place to live, free of charge. But Mom didn’t want to be dependent on him, so she paid him what she could afford.” Cole glanced at Charley then continued. “About a year after Dad died, Victor asked my mother to marry him again. She refused. She didn’t love Victor, never had. But he couldn’t believe it. He blamed her refusal on me. He thought I knew about their supposed relationship and was fighting it.” He shrugged. “Victor was wrong. I didn’t know any of this until the night I left town. But it didn’t really matter. If it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else. I look too much like my father. And when Charley and I started dating, it was like rubbing salt into a wound to Victor. He stood it for two years, hoping Charley would get over her ‘infatuation,’ but she didn’t.” He gave Ben a sardonic smile. “He wanted her to marry you.” “Me?” Ben looked surprised. “Charley and I were never more than good friends.”
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“Apparently Victor hoped that with me out of the way, that would change. So he decided to make it possible for me to leave. The night of Charley’s twentieth birthday, he was waiting for me when I got home. Him and Douglas. He gave me no option. If I wasn’t gone by morning, my mother would find herself on the street by noon.” “Why didn’t you call me?” Tears were running down Charley’s face. “I would have gone with you.” Cole released her hand and tenderly brushed the moisture from her cheeks. “I wanted to, Charley. I knew how much it was going to hurt you. But he left Douglas there to make sure I didn’t. I would have given my life to take you with me, but I couldn’t take the chance he’d throw Mom out. She had no money, nowhere else to go.” For a moment, he forgot Ben was there. “As soon as I could I tried to reach you. Every time I called, someone else would answer the phone. I wrote, two or three times a week for an entire year, but you never answered.” “I never knew,” she whispered. “I didn’t get a single letter. I would have answered. Oh, God. You must have hated me.” “No,” he murmured. “I couldn’t hate you. Not even if I thought you just didn’t want anything to do with me. But I never thought that, Charley. I knew Victor had to be keeping the letters from you. So I stopped trying, although I never gave up hope. I knew someday I’d come back, and this time I’d have enough money, be old enough, that Victor couldn’t stop me. And while I waited, I kept track of you. I knew when you bought your house, and when you bought the Red Dog.” His hand moved to caress her nape. “I was so proud of you, Charley. And I missed you so much.” Ben cleared his throat and they both looked at him. “Well, it does sort of cast Victor in a new light, but it’s not exactly what I’d consider grounds for murder. You must have another reason for thinking it’s him.” Cole took possession of Charley’s hand again and leaned back in his chair. “Victor has threatened me three different times since I’ve been back. The first two were more on the order of warnings. The last one was a direct threat. He knew that sooner or later I’d tell Charley the truth, and it terrified him to think she might believe me.” Ben had his pen out again. “What exactly did he say?” “He said, ‘I’m warning you for the last time, Jordan. Stay away from my niece or you’ll be sorry.’ I thought he was just bluffing, but it was only a few days later that the stairs collapsed at Duncan Mills. And Victor knew we were going out there. Charley told him on the phone earlier that morning.” He glanced at her again. “Did you tell him we were going on a picnic yesterday?” If possible, her face got even whiter. “Yes. But he didn’t do this, Cole. I know he didn’t. Uncle Victor may have lied and manipulated us, but he would never intentionally hurt anyone. And he knew I’d be with you.” “Maybe he thought it would happen before I picked you up.”
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Charley pulled her hand from his. “But Uncle Vic knows nothing about cars! When something needs fixing on his, Douglas does it!” Ben and Cole glanced at each other, and Ben nodded slightly. “What was that for?” Charley stood and faced Ben. “You believe him, don’t you? You think Uncle Victor is behind this?” “Settle down, Charley. I didn’t say I believed it. But as you just pointed out, Douglas knows how to work on cars, and he doesn’t do anything unless Victor tells him to. The fact is, someone sabotaged Cole’s car, and right now your uncle is our only suspect. Suspecting he might be involved and proving it are two different things. I’m not going to rush right out and arrest him. But I am going to talk to him, and Douglas, too.” “When?” Ben folded the notebook and stuck it back in his pocket. “This afternoon. And in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to him about this.” She gave a curt nod. “If you’re done here, would you mind giving me a ride home?” “Of course not.” Cole’s heart stopped in his chest. “Charley.” She ignored him. “I’ll just get my things and be right out.” Back stiff, she vanished into Cole’s bedroom. “Excuse me.” Without a glance at Ben, Cole followed her. She had put her bag on his bed and was heading for the closet. “Charley.” His voice was soft and she stopped, one hand on the door. “Please don’t do this.” She dropped her forehead to the door panel, and a tremor ran through her back. Cole crossed the room and put his hands on her shoulders. “Please, Charley. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I told you the truth. If I’d had a choice, I never would have left you.” Charley spun in his arms and buried her face against his chest. “I know,” she whispered. “I believe you. I never stopped loving you, either.” His arms tightened around her. “Then don’t go. Stay here with me.” He tilted her face up. “I need you.” Her chin quivered, but she met his gaze. “I can’t stay, Cole. Not right now. I need time. Please understand.” One hand cupped his cheek. “I love you. But I love Uncle Victor, too. He’s the only family I have. What he did to us was wrong, and it will take me a long time to forgive him for that. I also know you have no reason to trust him after what he’s done. But he isn’t trying to kill you. I know him, Cole.” “And if it turns out I’m right?” “You aren’t right. But so much has happened in such a short time. I need a little space right now, time to think. Can you give it to me?” 112
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Cole slowly lowered his arms and stepped back. “If that’s what you need.” He hesitated as she turned back to the closet and pulled her clothes out. “When will I see you again?” Charley crammed the clothes into her bag and shut it. Pausing at the door, she turned and looked back. “I don’t know. I’ll call you. Soon. I promise.” And then she was gone. Cole listened to the murmur of voices on the patio, then the sound of feet going down the stairs. He didn’t move until the motor of Ben’s patrol car started, then died away into the distance. Charley had left him. The words pounded in his head, keeping time with his heartbeat. A scrap of white lying on the bed caught his attention and he looked down. Charley’s nightgown. Somehow she’d missed it. He sank onto the side of the bed and picked it up, running the soft material through his fingers. With every move her scent drifted up to him. A lump of pain formed in his throat. Had he waited all this time only to lose her again? Had Victor finally accomplished his goal? No, he wouldn’t allow himself to believe it. Carefully, he folded the gown and carried it to his bureau. When Charley came back, it would be here, waiting on her. Just as he would be.
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Chapter Sixteen “What are you doing here?” Charley looked up at Frannie from her position on the kitchen floor. “I think a better question would be, why are you scrubbing floors when you were released from the hospital last night with a concussion?” Charley tossed the scrub brush into the bucket next to her and stood. “Ben called you, didn’t he?” Trying to miss the wet spot on the floor, Frannie pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning her elbows on the table. “Yes, he did. He was worried about you. And apparently with good reason.” Charley joined her, sinking heavily onto the cushioned seat. “You know I always clean when I need to think. And I’m fine. Not even a headache.” She tucked a strand of sweat-damp hair behind one ear. “How much did he tell you?” “Everything.” “At least that saves me the trouble of repeating it. I suppose you agree with Cole. He thinks Uncle Victor is capable of murder.” “Cole has good reason for thinking that. Your uncle hasn’t exactly been a sweetheart to him. Want a soda?” Frannie stood and opened the fridge. “Sure.” Frannie put a can in front of her and popped the top on her own. “Truthfully, I don’t know what to think, so I’ll just reserve my opinion until all the facts are in.” “Frannie, I know you and Uncle Victor aren’t exactly good friends, but he didn’t do it. I know he didn’t.” “Then who do you think did? Someone sure did a number on Cole’s car.” “I know.” Charley touched the bruise on her forehead absentmindedly. “And I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out who would do something like that. Or even why. It had to be someone who’s good with mechanics. Someone who could get in and get it done fast.” “What have you come up with?” “Not much. I can only think of two reasons why someone might want to hurt him. First, because of the changes he’s making here. And now I know that it’s not the changes Uncle Vic was opposed to, it was Cole himself. But maybe there are others who aren’t happy about it. I know Sam Tyree isn’t.” “Oh, surely you don’t think Sam had anything to do with this? I know he can be rather…well, blunt. But deep down we both know Sam is a real sweetie.”
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A wrinkle formed between Charley’s eyes and she shook her head. “No, he’s even less likely to do it than Uncle Vic. But the point is, there are bound to be others who just haven’t been as vocal about their opposition to the changes. Maybe they decided to take matters into their own hands.” Frannie took a sip of the soda. “I guess it’s possible, but it doesn’t really feel right. When you think about it, there are really only three motives for murder. Greed, revenge, and passion. I can’t see how having someone help you make a lot of money would inspire a need to kill.” “That brings me to my second reason,” Charley agreed. “Cole has made a lot of money in the last ten years. There are bound to be some toes he’s stepped on during that time. What if someone wants revenge for something he’s done?” Frannie blinked. “You know Cole better than I do. Is he ruthless enough to trample people into the ground for a few dollars?” She smiled. “I think he could be ruthless if the reasons were important enough to him, but I really can’t see him doing it for money. He’s not the type for corporate takeovers.” Her cousin nodded. “Okay, that pretty well rules out greed and revenge. What about passion?” Charley looked at her thoughtfully. “Jealousy, maybe? Surely Cole dated other women during the time he was gone.” “You didn’t date,” Frannie pointed out. “I know, but that’s different. Cole’s a man. What if there’s some woman who hates him for leaving her to come back here?” “I think you’re grabbing at straws.” Charley’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I am. But it just doesn’t make sense, Frannie. I know Uncle Victor didn’t do it.” Frannie glanced at the clock. “Well, Ben should be talking to him right about now. Maybe we’ll know something soon.” Suddenly Charley stood and grabbed her purse. “What are you doing?” “I’m going to Uncle Victor’s. You know what a pack rat he is. He never throws anything away. Maybe there’s something there that will prove he’s innocent.” Frannie shifted uneasily. “Charley, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. I know he’s your uncle, but should you really be going through his things? And what if you find something that proves he really is guilty?” Charley took a long breath. “I won’t. But if I do, I’ll turn it over to Ben.” “Then at least let me go with you. I don’t like this.” “No, Frannie.” She touched her cousin’s arm. “He’s my uncle. This is something I have to do on my own.”
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“Charley—” “I’ll be okay, really. Just wait here. It shouldn’t take long.” Reluctantly, Frannie nodded. “Okay, but if you aren’t back in an hour, I’m calling Ben.” “Make it an hour and a half.” Charley gave her a half smile and walked out the door.
***** Charley brought the Blazer to a halt and sat for a second, just staring at her uncle’s house. The flowers were still a riot of color and hummingbirds still filled the air with their tiny songs. But the giant trees scattered around the yard, hundreds of years old, cast their shadow on the pristine white paint, giving the house a cold, desolate look. A shiver ran down her spine. Get a grip, Charley, she told herself. It’s the same house it always was. With a nervous laugh, she shook off her morbidity, climbed out of the car and started up the steps. Just as she reached for the door, it opened and Charley blinked in surprise at the hulking form blocking her path. “Douglas? Where’s Lettie?” “Doing the marketing. Your uncle isn’t home either.” His voice was completely without intonation. She forced herself to smile. Douglas had always had the effect of making her feel uneasy and this time was no different. “That’s fine. I’ll wait for him in his office.” Her uneasiness increased as he closed the door behind her and followed her down the hall. Why hadn’t he mentioned that Uncle Victor was talking to the sheriff? Loyalty to her uncle? Charley went into Uncle Victor’s office and stopped. “Don’t feel like you have to entertain me, Douglas. I know you must have things to do. I’ll just grab a book and read until Uncle Vic gets home.” His cold glance slid over her, then with a curt nod, he turned and vanished down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, Charley eased the door shut. Where to start. She surveyed the room critically, her gaze stopping on a painting that hung behind the desk. The safe was probably her best bet. The painting pulled out soundlessly on its hidden hinges, and Charley spun the combination lock on the safe behind it. When the last tumbler clicked into place, she pushed down on the handle and tugged the heavy steel door open. The interior was divided into four compartments, one large space on the left filled with folders, and three shelves on the right. She lifted the folders out and carried them to the desk. The first one contained only papers dealing with City Council business, and she pushed it to one side. The next one was more personal. It held the deed to the house and a thick packet bearing the words
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“Last Will and Testament.” Hastily, Charley shoved it back in the folder. She didn’t even want to touch it. The last of the folders was filled with insurance policies. Life insurance, medical insurance, insurance on the house, the cars, even one on her. A large one. She vaguely remembered Uncle Vic telling her he was taking it out, but it had been so long ago she’d forgotten. She eased the files back into the safe and glanced at the shelves. There were several bundles of cash, some jewelry that had belonged to her grandmother, and not much else. With a sigh of frustration, she shut the safe, pushed the picture back into place and returned to the desk. A quick glance at the grandfather clock in one corner showed her she still had approximately fifty minutes before Frannie called out the troops. She smiled. Her cousin tended to have a real flair for dramatics at times. Methodically, she began going through the desk drawers, but her search was as fruitless as the safe had been. There was nothing that you wouldn’t normally expect to find in the desk of a businessman. Charley closed the last drawer and leaned back in the chair. The bookshelves? Could he have a secret compartment hidden in them? She shook her head. She was getting as bad as Frannie. The thought brought her eyes back to the clock again. Thirty more minutes. Her gaze moved down the glass front of the clock, watching the pendulum swing back and forth. The motion was hypnotic and the ticking seemed twice as loud as normal. With an effort, she forced her eyes away from the swinging golden disk and down to the decorative panel at the bottom. The panel. Suddenly her heart picked up speed as a blurry memory flashed through her mind. A memory of herself as a child, bursting through the office door to find Uncle Victor kneeling in front of the clock. With a mouth gone dry, Charley stood and walked to the clock. Dropping to her knees, she ran her hands over the panel, pushing each decoration, every depression. Nothing happened. She sat back on her heels and contemplated the rich wood. Every instinct she had was telling her there was something here. Leaning over, she ran her hand under the edge of the trim. Almost out of reach from her questing fingers, she found it. The tiny lever was in good condition. As soon as she pushed it there was click and the panel slid open. Charley stared down at the bundle of letters and papers, then with a shaky hand reached down and picked them up. A rubber band held them together, but didn’t block the handwriting on the top one. She would recognize Cole’s distinctive script anywhere, and it was addressed to her. They were all here, every letter he’d written her, and none of them had been opened.
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When she removed the rubber band, several other items fell to the floor. Scooping them up, she went back to the desk and reached for the phone, dialing her own number. Frannie answered on the first ring. “Frannie, it’s me. Listen, this is going to take a little longer than I thought. I think I may have found something, but I’m not sure what yet. There was a secret drawer in the bottom of the clock. Cole’s letters are here, plus a bunch of other stuff. I need time to go through them.” She listened to Frannie’s protest and pleas, her eyes on the bundle in front of her. “No, don’t call Ben. We’ll talk about it when I get back. I have to go, now.” There was a distinct click as Frannie hung up, followed almost instantly by another one. Charley frowned at the phone before dropping it back into the cradle. Remembering the letter opener she’d seen earlier, Charley took it out and slid it under the flap of the first letter. She wouldn’t have time to read them all right now, but she did want to read this last one. The postmark was dated almost a year to the day after he’d left, the envelope already turning yellow with age. With great care, she removed the folded paper and opened it, her eyes dropping to the first line. My sweet Charley, It’s been a year since I had to leave you, and there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought of you, seen your face in my mind. There hasn’t been a night that I haven’t dreamed of you, of holding you in my arms, loving you. Jim has been fantastic. He’s been teaching me a lot about business and the stock market, things I’ll have to know to start my own company. It won’t be long now. I’m making more money every day. I only wish you were here with me. I’m still living in the coach house on Jim’s property. It’s not “our” house, but you’d love it, Charley. I can almost see you, moving from room to room, looking out the leaded glass windows at the gardens. And sometimes I pretend that you’ll be here waiting for me when I get home. This will be the last letter I send, Charley. Even though I keep hoping, I know deep down that your uncle is keeping them from you. In a strange way, I can even understand why. You deserve better than what I could have offered you, my love. But if by chance you ever do read this, know I love you, my angel. I’ll never stop. Someday, I’ll come back for you, I promise. Wait for me, Charley. I love you. Cole Charley bit down hard on her bottom lip, but the tears spilled down her cheeks anyway. It was so unfair. Ten years wasted that they could have been together, happy, 118
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loving each other. They might even have had a child by now. Instead, she’d spent the time thinking he’d lied to her, that he’d never loved her. The pain they had both gone through was staggering. And all because of her uncle. But Cole had kept his promise. He’d come back for her. Come back only to have someone try to kill him. The thought of losing him for good sent a stab of terror through her. Grabbing a tissue from the box on the desk, she wiped her eyes then blew her nose. Later she’d call Cole, ask him to come to her house. And after they’d read the letters together, he would make love to her, and they would finally begin to heal the old wounds. With a final sniff, the bundle of letters went into her purse, and she picked up the next item from the stack. It was an old black and white picture of a woman and child. She studied it closely. The woman was a mere wisp of a thing, blonde and ethereal looking. Her clothing, ragged and threadbare, looked as though it had seen too many washings. But what caught Charley’s attention was the haunted look in the woman’s eyes, a look that said she’d been to hell and wasn’t sure she was back yet. This was no one she’d ever met before, and yet…there was something about the child that seemed familiar. He couldn’t have been more than two in the picture, but there was no expression on the tiny face. No child-like innocence, no laughter. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, even whiter than his mother’s. Even though he was standing in front of the woman there was no motherly hand to his shoulder, no sense of closeness between the two. Charley shook her head in perplexity, then put the picture aside and reached for the papers under it. With a deepening frown, she scanned the thick sheaf, flipping pages rapidly. They made no sense. As far as she could tell, it was the result of a very thorough blood test. Row after row of mysterious figures marched down each page. Concern stole over her. Could Uncle Victor be ill and hiding it from her? It was just one more thing she’d have to ask him about. Frustrated at her inability to read the medical jargon, she refolded the papers and returned them to the desk. The next item was a single sheet of paper and obviously a copy. “Bureau of Vital Statistics” was stamped across the back in bright red. A birth certificate? Whose? Douglas Victor Ashton. The name leaped off the page to her startled gaze. His mother was listed as Marie Elizabeth Ashton, and the father… Her heart faltered in her chest and her breath caught. Victor James Channing. Douglas was Uncle Victor’s illegitimate son. “Oh, my God.” The words escaped her in an exhaled rush. She hadn’t heard the office door open, hadn’t heard him cross the room. Didn’t know he was there until he spoke. “Well, cousin, aren’t you going to welcome me into the family?”
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Charley’s eyes snapped upward, unable to focus on anything but the barrel of the gun pointing at her.
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Chapter Seventeen Cole’s chair groaned in protest as he shifted his weight restlessly. He’d been staring at the open folder on his lap for at least an hour and still hadn’t made it past the first page. In disgust, he closed it and tossed it to the desk, watching it slide a little before coming to a stop next to his booted feet. “I take it you aren’t going to the Red Dog today?” He looked up at Kristy’s voice. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her. “No, I’m not. At this point, I have no idea when or even if, I’ll ever go back.” Uncrossing her arms, she moved to the chair across from him and propped her feet on the desk, mimicking his position. “Want to talk about it?” Cole shrugged. “Not much to talk about. Charley left. I don’t know when I’ll see her again.” He gave a wry half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “She said she’d call me. But it felt like a don’t-call-us, we’ll-call-you kind of thing.” “You told her everything?” “Yes.” Kristy sighed. “And she didn’t believe you.” It was more statement than question. Cole glanced out the window, unconsciously checking for any sign of a silver Blazer. “Yes, she did believe me. At least she said she did. And I don’t doubt she still loves me.” Kristy was looking more confused by the minute. “Then I don’t understand. Why did she leave?” “Victor Channing.” He took his feet from the desk and allowed his chair to ping upright. “Even though she’s willing to concede that he’s manipulative enough to keep us apart for ten years, she refuses to believe her uncle might hate me enough to want me dead.” “Dead? You mean what happened at Duncan Mills?” “Not just that. Someone tampered with the Jag. What happened to Charley and me yesterday was no accident. That’s what Ben Zimmerman was here for earlier. He wanted to find out who hated me enough to want me dead.” “And you told him Victor Channing.” Kristy groaned. “In front of Charley.” “I didn’t have much choice, Kristy. She might have gotten suspicious if I’d ask her to leave first.” He shook his head. “Besides, there have been too many secrets, too many lies. Either Charley loves me and trusts me, or she doesn’t. I’m not Channing. I can’t and won’t ask her to choose between the two of us.”
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“That’s very noble and self-sacrificing of you.” Viscously, Cole slung the ink pen he’d been holding across the room and shot to his feet. “Noble? Self-sacrificing?” His face was twisted with anger, but pain glittered from his eyes. “Do you know how much I’d like to strangle Victor Channing? Do you have any idea what it’s taking to stop myself from dragging Charley back here and forcing her to stay?” The anger drained out of him almost as fast as it had started, and he ran his hands over his face tiredly. “Do you think I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life alone because the only woman I’ll ever love can’t bear the thought that I might think her uncle is a murderer? It’s killing me, Kristy, but there’s nothing I can do about it. What if Victor keeps trying and Charley is really hurt in his attempts to reach me? She could have been killed yesterday. I can’t take a chance on that happening even if it means losing her.” “I know.” Kristy’s voice was soft. “I just wanted to make sure you did. But Cole, what if it wasn’t Victor? What if Charley is right?” He turned his back to her, leaning one shoulder against the glass as he stared out at the dry Nevada landscape. “Then I’ve probably lost her forever, anyway. I’m not sure she’d ever forgive me. But who else could it be? There’s no one who hates me that much but Victor.” “What did the sheriff think about it?” “He’s talking to Victor today, but without proof, Ben can’t do anything. And I really doubt Victor will be gracious and offer up a confession.” The phone rang and he looked over his shoulder as Kristy picked it up, hope flaring briefly that it might be Charley. Kristy must have seen the look in his eyes, because she shook her head gently. “Hi Roger.” She listened for a second. “No, he’s here. Hang on and I’ll let you speak to him.” Cole strode to the desk and reached for the phone. Maybe the head of Jordan Enterprises security had discovered something about the Duncan Mills accident that would help. “Roger? What’s up?” Roger was a bull of a man and his voice reflected it, coming across the line in a deep bass. “Not sure how much help this info is going to be Cole, but I did find one interesting little item.” “About Victor Channing?” “You could say that. I have to tell you, I only discovered this during a routine check on the names you gave me. Channing himself seemed to be squeaky clean. At least ‘til I found this.” “Spit it out, Roger.” He nodded when Kristy gave him a brief wave and left the room.
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“Douglas Aston? The guy you said was Channing’s personal assistant? Well, turns out he’s a little more than that. I’ve got his birth certificate here in front of me. He’s Channing’s son.” Cole went still. “Are you sure?” “Well, Ashton’s mother sure as hell thought he was. She listed Channing as the father.” A feeling of urgency gripped Cole. “Listen, Roger, I want you to fax me a copy of that birth certificate right now. And keep digging. I want anything you can find on Ashton.” “Will do.” Cole hung up and redialed the phone, his eyes on the fax machine. It began to hum at the same time someone answered the phone he was holding. “County Sheriff.” “This is Cole Jordan. I need to speak with Ben Zimmerman.” “One moment.” While he waited for Ben to pick up, he grabbed the paper from the fax and scanned it. “Ben? Are you still talking to Victor Channing?” There was a slight hesitation. “Yeah, he’s still here Cole, but I was just about to let him go. There’s nothing I can hold him on.” “Do me a favor. Keep him there for a little longer? Something’s come up.” “What?” Ben suddenly sounded interested. “I’ll tell you when I get there. I’m on my way.” He lowered the phone with a click and jogged out of the room.
***** Ben must have been watching for him. As soon as Cole walked through the door, the sheriff appeared from a side office. “This had better be good, Jordan. I’ve reached the point where it’s either arrest Victor and let him call his lawyer, or release him.” Cole thrust the birth certificate into his hands. “Take a look at this.” Ben glared at him for an instant then glanced down at the paper. And did a double take. “Son of a…” He stopped and took Cole’s arm. “Let’s go in my office.” Once inside he shut the door behind them before facing Cole. “Okay, I’ll admit this is a shocker, but it still doesn’t give Victor a motive to try and murder you.” Cole’s agitation was increasing with every moment. “What if we were wrong, Ben?” He began to pace up and down in the small room. “What if the accidents weren’t aimed at me? What if Charley were the intended victim?” “That’s crazy. Everyone in this town knows how Victor feels about Charley. He wouldn’t harm a hair on her head.”
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“Not Victor!” He made a valiant attempt to control his anger and fear. “Ashton! Think about it, for God’s sake! He had the opportunity, and now we have a motive. Charley is Victor’s sole heir. And you’re right. Victor loves her like she’s his own daughter. Can you imagine how that felt to Ashton? Instead of being the prodigal son, the favored child, he was given a menial job, forced to keep silent about his relationship with Victor. And he was forced to watch while all the love that should have been his was showered on Charley. He must hate her.” Ben glanced back at the birth certificate and then headed for the door. “I think it’s time to have another talk with Victor. Come on.”
***** The room where Victor Channing sat was typical of every interrogation room Cole had seen on television cop shows. A long table occupied the center of the room, several tattered chairs scooted up under it. The only other item in the room was an old water cooler burbling in the corner. Victor looked up when they entered, his gaze going immediately to Cole. “What is he doing here? I demand you either release me or let me call my attorney.” “Soon, Victor. I’ve got a few more questions for you.” Ben sat down across from him. Cole remained standing near the window. “Look, Jordan, I never claimed to like you, but we both know I’m not a killer. You’re just doing this to get even with me. For God’s sake, tell him.” Cole shoved his good hand in his pocket. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself not to deck the man. “You’ll be pleased to know, Victor, that Charley agrees with you. She doesn’t think you’re capable of murder, either.” “You told her.” “Yes,” Cole agreed. “I told her all of it. Right from the beginning.” The man in front of him aged ten years right before his eyes. Lines appeared on his face that hadn’t been there only a second earlier. He almost felt sorry for Victor. Almost, but not quite. “You were wrong about one thing, Channing. She believed me. She knows that I didn’t leave her for revenge.” Victor slumped in his chair. “I guess that means you win, Jordan.” “I only wish you were right. Unfortunately, I don’t think anyone is going to win in this situation.” “What does that mean?” “It means,” Ben interrupted, “I want to know where Ashton was late Sunday night.” Channing’s confusion was apparent as he looked from one of them to the other. “Douglas? I don’t know. I suppose he was in his room. He retired around ten that night. What’s going on? Why do you want to know about Douglas?”
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Casually, Ben tossed the birth certificate to the table. “Why don’t you tell us about this, Victor?” “Where did you get that?” Channing’s skin went a pasty gray. “The where doesn’t matter. What matters is that he may be trying to kill Charley.” “Oh, God.” Victor wrapped his arms around his middle and rocked back and forth. “What have I done.” He looked up pleadingly at Cole. “You have to stop him. If you love her, don’t let Douglas hurt her. I’ve always known he wasn’t quite right, but I’d hoped…” Ben reached for the paper and folded it. “Why didn’t you ever acknowledge him, Victor?” “His mother…” Channing paused and covered his eyes with a palsied hand then started again. “I met his mother when I was a young man and in love with someone else. Someone who didn’t love me. I thought Marie would help me forget, and for a while she did. She was such a shy, fragile little thing, and from a good family. But after four months I knew it wasn’t going to work, so I stopped seeing her.” He took a deep breath and lifted his gaze to the two men watching him. “I never knew she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me. Not then or later. I would have done something if I’d known. I found out that when her family discovered her condition, they threw her out. Marie wasn’t capable of supporting herself, much less a child. I still don’t know how she survived as long as she did, and Douglas won’t talk about it. She died when he was eighteen. That’s when he found me. I know I reacted badly. I made him take blood tests to prove his claim, but it was true. He is my son.” Victor shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do. There was Charley to consider, and my standing in the community. It was also clear that Douglas wasn’t mentally capable of finding meaningful employment. So I gave him a job and made him promise to keep silent. It was wrong of me. I realize that now. But I did try to love him. He rebuffed all my attempts. It was almost as if he didn’t know how to feel.” “How does Douglas feel about Charley?” “I don’t know. They’re both polite when Charley is around, but he doesn’t have a lot to do with her. And he’s certainly never said anything derogatory to me about her.” “He’s never shown any hostility toward her?” Victor shook his head at Ben’s question. “Douglas doesn’t show emotion of any kind.” “Do you know where he was Friday between about five and seven?” Cole asked. Ben glanced at him. “Duncan Mills,” he explained to the sheriff. “The men leave at five and Charley and I arrived around seven. Whoever sabotaged the stairs had to do it during that time period.” Ben nodded. “Answer the question.” “He was running some errands for Lettie about then, I believe. Although it does seem strange that he’d do them during the dinner hour.”
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“He knows a lot about mechanics?” Ben continued. “I’d say he’s almost a genius where automobiles are concerned. He provides the maintenance on all my cars.” “Okay.” Ben stood. “Do we have your permission to search your house, Victor?” “Of course.” The sheriff glanced at Cole. “I’m going to get some men together, just in case we find something, then I’ll head out to Victor’s. Victor is going to stay here until we have Ashton. I don’t want him getting in the way.” Victor lifted a hand in a silent plea. “Don’t hurt him, Ben. Please. He’s still my son and he needs help.” Ben nodded. “We’ll try to do this easy, Victor.” Cole pushed away from the window ledge. “I’ll go stay with Charley. I don’t like the idea of her being alone while Ashton is loose.” “Good idea. I’ll call and let you know what happens.” “Thanks, Ben.” He paused in the door and looked back at Victor. “It seems I owe you an apology, Channing. Looks like you weren’t trying to kill me after all.” Channing appeared stunned, but finally found his voice. “I guess you had a reason to believe it, after the way I treated you. Just promise me you’ll take care of her until this is straightened out.” Cole gave him a curt nod. “I will.”
***** The sun’s scorching heat had turned the inside of the rental car into a furnace, and Cole flipped the air onto high as he backed out of the parking lot. How was Charley going to react when he told her that he’d been wrong? Would she give him a chance to apologize? And how was she going to take the discovery of Victor’s illegitimate son and the fact that he might be trying to kill her? It was going to be a shock no matter how gently he broke the news. His cell phone beeped urgently, and Cole steered with his injured arm while he fumbled it open. “Jordan.” “Cole!” Frannie’s voice sounded edgy and worried. “What’s up, Frannie?” “I’m at Charley’s. And I’m worried. She told me not to call Ben, but she’s been gone too long. I have a bad feeling about this, Cole. I tried to call her a few minutes ago and no one answered the phone. I don’t know what to do!” The last words were almost a wail, and Cole felt a chill run over him. “Calm down, Frannie, and tell me what’s going on. I’m already halfway to Charley’s.” 126
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“No! Don’t come here. Charley went to Victor’s. She wanted to find something that would prove he was innocent. She called me about thirty minutes ago and said she had, but I’m afraid something happened.” Brakes squealed and horns blew as Cole made a sudden U-turn and headed in the opposite direction. “Frannie, hang up and call Ben. Do it now. Tell him what you just told me, and tell him to forget the warrant and get out to Victor’s. I’m on my way there now. And tell him to hurry!” Fear raced along every nerve ending in his body as he accelerated the Taurus, images of Charley alone with Douglas spurring him on. No matter how hard he pushed it, the car wouldn’t go over eighty, but even at that speed the landscape seemed to fly past. An old pickup loomed in front of him and Cole laid down on the horn, then shot into the oncoming lane, narrowly missing a car before he cut back in front of the truck. He had a blurred impression of the driver shaking his fist, and then they were gone. He didn’t slow until he reached the long driveway leading to Victor’s house. Breaking abruptly, he took the turn then slammed the car into neutral and shut off the motor, letting it glide to a stop halfway to the house. Everything looked normal from here. He could see Charley’s Blazer sitting by the front porch, but there was no sign of movement. Stepping out of the car, he eased the door shut. If anyone happened to look out, he’d be clearly visible, but there was nothing he could do about that. For a moment, he considered his best course of action. No doubt the doors were locked, and he couldn’t very well knock. The windows, he decided. He’d try to locate Charley first and see exactly what the situation was. Boldly, he walked to the house, then slid into the shrubbery, pausing to look in each window he came to, making sure to stay well to one side. If they hadn’t seen him yet, he wanted to make sure they didn’t. The house seemed eerily silent and Cole’s fear went up another notch. The sound of pots and pans rattling as Lettie prepared diner were absent, and when he peered into the kitchen there was no sign that anyone was cooking. He moved on, around the corner of the house. Instantly, he became aware of the muted sound of voices. They were coming from the open French doors of Victor’s office. Moving faster now, he made it to the doors in two strides, then stopped. Charley was standing at Victor’s desk, a bundle of papers clutched her in hand. Her eyes were huge, seeming to take up most of her face. And they were locked on the man in the room with her. Cole shifted slightly to allow for a better look, and Douglas came fully into his view. His back was to the French doors, but Cole had no trouble seeing the gun in his hand. And it was pointed at Charley.
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If only Douglas were closer to the doors, he might rush him, but the man was too far away. He’d hear Cole coming and have plenty of time to fire the gun. Cole’s only hope was to distract him until Ben got there. Taking a deep breath he stepped casually into the room and spoke. “I always did hate being late to parties.”
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Chapter Eighteen “Cole.” His name was a mere whisper on her lips. “It’s okay, Charley.” His gaze flicked to hers as fear and relief mingled inside him. She was still alive and unhurt. So far. He had to make sure she stayed that way. At his first words, Douglas had spun sideways, positioning himself so his gun could cover both Cole and Charley. For the first time in Cole’s memory, Ashton’s face was showing some emotion. “Jordan.” The word was a snarl of anger. “You just couldn’t stay out of it, could you?” “Why don’t you put the gun down, Douglas, and let’s talk about it?” “Oh, you’d love that wouldn’t you?” His lip curled up in a sneer. “Besides, there’s nothing to talk about. I’ve been playing second fiddle to my dear cousin long enough.” Cole took a step closer, but stopped when the gun swung in his direction. “I guess it was pretty hard, having your father refuse to acknowledge you, wasn’t it?” He kept his eyes on Ashton, but in his peripheral vision he could see Charley, still standing frozen at the desk. “Hard?” Ashton’s laugh sent the hair erect on Cole’s neck. “No, Jordan. Hard was watching my mother go quietly insane over the years. Hard was watching her sit in an empty field, rocking back and forth while she crammed handfuls of dirt in her mouth.” His voice caught before he continued. “Hard was seeing the men that came to our shack almost every night. And she wasn’t even aware of what they were doing. She just laid there, humming to herself while they used her. Oh, they always left money. A dollar or two. It was the only thing that kept us from starving.” Charley covered her mouth in horror, and the gun immediately turned at the movement. Silently, Cole moved another step as Charley spoke. “Oh, Douglas. I can’t believe Uncle Victor knew about this.” “He didn’t want to know. He’s worse than the men who visited her. Victor Channing made her think he loved her. He got her pregnant, destroyed her life, then left without so much as a goodbye. At least the other men gave her money. All Victor gave her was me.” “But why didn’t you tell me? Douglas, I could have helped. Do you think I would accept a penny from Uncle Victor knowing you were his son? It all should be yours, the house, the money, everything. I never wanted it.” “Could you make my father care about me? Don’t even answer. It would be a lie.” The gun shook in his hand. “I was so sure he’d be happy to learn he had a son. But he didn’t believe me. He made me take a blood test to prove it, and when it did, what did 129
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he do? Welcome me with open arms? No, he made me his damn butler, fetching and carrying, waiting on him hand and foot. But you. You were his little princess. Nothing was too good for you. I had to watch all these years, as he showered you with the love I wasn’t good enough for.” Ashton glanced at Cole. “I wouldn’t advise coming any closer, Jordan.” The gun shifted again. “You know what the highlight of my life has been? Knowing that Victor ruined things for the two of you. Watching her suffer because she thought you betrayed her, and knowing that her precious uncle was the one responsible. But you had to spoil it, Jordan. You had to come back—” He broke off, tilting his head to listen and Cole heard the same sound. Footsteps that hesitated outside the door. “Well, this is turning into a real family gathering. You may as well come in, Victor, and stop lurking in the hall. I know you’re there. Unless, of course, you’d rather I just ended it all right now.” He waited until Victor stepped into the room, then gestured with the gun. “Over there, by the desk. You know, this could get real interesting. Now, how shall we do it?” His eyes squinted in mock contemplation. “Ah, yes. It’s really quite simple. Jordan came here to tell his beloved Charley the truth about her uncle. And you, naturally, couldn’t have that, could you Victor? So you pulled a gun on him. Jordan jumped you, and during the struggle, several shots were fired. Jordan was killed, and unfortunately a stray bullet hit your niece. In remorse, you took your own life. All neat and tidy.” Cole inched a step closer. “Douglas, son, listen to me. Don’t do this,” Victor pled. “Your plan won’t work. The sheriff knows everything. Right now, he’s outside with half his force, waiting. I asked him to give me a chance to talk to you first. I was wrong, Douglas. I know that now. Give me a chance to make it up to you. Just put the gun down. Right now, they’re willing to negotiate, but if you pull that trigger you won’t stand a chance of getting out of here alive.” “You’re lying! Just like you always do.” “No,” Cole shifted again. “He’s telling you the truth, Ashton. I was at the sheriff’s office earlier when Ben found out. He was on his way, even before we knew Charley was here.” He was so close. Just one more step and he’d be within range. He raised one hand placatingly and took that step. “Why don’t you listen to Victor, Douglas? None of us want to see you hurt. We can get you some help.” “Stop!” Ashton’s scream contained pure rage. “Stop it! All of you!” Suddenly, he levered a shell into the breech and assumed the classic shooter’s stance, the gun pointed right at Charley. “Do you think I care if I die? The only thing I’ve lived for the last few years was the chance to make you pay. And now you’re going to! Starting with your precious Charley. I want you to watch her die and suffer. Suffer like you’ve made me suffer.” His finger began to depress the trigger.
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“No!” The cry of anguish was torn from Cole as he lunged. Even as his cast connected with Ashton’s arm, the gun went off. Charley’s scream filled the room, rang in his ears as agony ripped though him. Not Charley. Please God, not Charley. With adrenaline-enhanced fear, he swung at Ashton again, his fist connecting solidly with the man’s jaw. Ashton’s head snapped back and his arms windmilled, the gun flying from his hand and skidding across the floor. His large frame followed with ground-shaking force. Even stunned, Ashton kept moving, scrabbling for the gun. “Freeze, Ashton!” Cole abruptly stopped his own forward motion, almost losing his balance in the effort. Ben Zimmerman stood in the open French doors, his revolver trained on Ashton. Cole threw himself to one side as Ashton’s hand closed around the gun. “I said hold it!” Seemingly in slow motion, Ashton rolled to a sitting position, arm rising, gun ready. A steady stream of curse words issued from Ben’s mouth as the revolver bucked in his hands. The stench of gunpowder filled the room as a red flower bloomed in the center of Douglas Ashton’s chest. With a look of mild surprise, his face relaxed and he slumped to the side. As Ben kept his gun trained on Ashton, two deputies approached the man and one knelt, checking for a pulse. “He’s dead.” “Charley!” Cole bolted to his feet and turned toward the desk, his heartbeat thundering in his throat. She wasn’t there. “Charley!” Panic echoed in his voice as he raced around the desk. Charley was on her knees, huddled protectively over her uncle’s body. Blood pooled on the floor beneath him, staining the hardwood boards. She lifted her tear-ravaged face. “He stepped in front of me, Cole. When Douglas fired, Uncle Victor stepped in front of me. I should be the one lying here, not him.” “No, not you. Never you.” He squatted next to her and checked for a pulse in Victor’s neck. There. Thready and weak, but a definite beat. “Charley, he’s not dead. Do you hear me? He’s alive.” Cole looked over the desk. “Ben, we need an ambulance. Victor’s been shot.” The sheriff grabbed a phone and Cole heard him mumbling instructions into it. “You wouldn’t believe me.” The anguish in Charley’s voice tore him apart. “Charley, I’m sorry. I should have listened.” As though he hadn’t spoken she continued. “You wouldn’t believe me and now he’s going to die.” In the distance sirens wailed and the sound echoed though Cole’s soul. He lifted a hand to her face, but she flinched away from him. “Charley, please,” he whispered.
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“No!” Her face was pale but a thin sheen of sweat stood on her forehead. “Don’t touch me!” Someone dropped a multicolored throw around her shoulders and Cole raised his eyes to Ben’s. “She’s in shock, Cole. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. I’ve seen it before. Give her time.” Ben pulled Charley away from her uncle, explaining when she protested that the paramedics needed her out of the way. Cole watched her go, the despair that curled in his stomach wrapping icy fingers around his heart. Not once did she look back at him. Ben was wrong. Charley would never forgive him for not believing her.
***** The brake lights of the ambulance flared briefly before it turned at the end of the driveway, and Cole watched until it vanished down the highway. It felt like his whole life was in that vehicle, driving away from him. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. The sheriff stood next to him in the fading light, his gaze also fixed on the ambulance. “What did the paramedics say?” Cole kept his voice even. Ben glanced at him. “It’s going to be touch and go. Victor’s in pretty bad shape, and he’s lost a lot of blood. You don’t have to worry about Charley, though. She’ll be fine.” “Will she?” “Yes.” Ben paused. “Wouldn’t hurt you to run by the emergency room, yourself.” “I’m fine.” “Probably. But you need to have that taken care of,” he gestured toward Cole’s arm. Cole looked down at the cast on his left arm. When he’d hit Douglas the plaster had broken, exposing the gauze wrapping beneath. “Maybe later.” Ben nodded. “Well, I’ve got to get back to work. You can take off, if you want to. Not much sense in hanging around here while we tie up the loose ends. If I need you for anything, I’ll call.” Each step back to his car seemed to take a year, but he finally reached it and slid wearily into the seat. He had to dodge police cars and the county coroner to reach the highway, their flashing lights a garish contrast to the glorious sunset that stained the western sky. Douglas was dead. Victor Channing was fighting for his life. Charley had almost been killed. And the only thing that his mind seemed to grasp was that he’d lost her. For good this time. He’d had his second chance. There would be no third. Kristy was waiting when he pulled up in front of the house, worry etched on her face.
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“You know what happened?” “Yes.” She closed the door behind him. “Frannie has a police scanner. She’s been keeping me updated, but she left for the hospital a few minutes ago to be with Charley.” Cole rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Good. Charley doesn’t need to be alone right now.” “So why aren’t you at the hospital with her?” “She doesn’t want me there, Kris. She thinks this is all my fault because I didn’t believe Victor was innocent.” He shook his head. “She actually flinched when I touched her. It’s over. I’ve lost her.” Kristy rubbed his arm. “What are you going to do?” “Do?” His laugh sounded unnatural. “There’s nothing to do.” “Mrs. Paulson has dinner ready. Why don’t I get you something to eat?” “I’m not hungry.” He stopped with one foot on the stairs. “If you hear anything about Victor, let me know?” “I will. Frannie promised to call as soon as they know anything.” Cole went straight to the bank of windows that lined his bedroom and gazed out at the gathering darkness. In the distance he could see the twinkling lights of Canyon Bend. Charley was there, somewhere in that maze of brightness. He glanced down at his arm. The cast was well and truly ruined. He might as well go have another put on now, before any more damage was done. With his right hand he ripped it the rest of the way off, and flung the pieces across the room. Soon, he would have to decide what to do with the rest of his life, but for now his brain shut down at the very thought. Nothing mattered anymore. Not his business, not his money. He had done it all for Charley. Without her the rest had no meaning.
***** Charley lay still while the nurse checked her blood pressure yet again. Even with all the activity around her, her eyes kept drifting closed. She forced them open as the cuff was removed from her arm. “It’s coming back up nicely, dear. I think it will be safe to remove this now.” The stout nurse gestured toward the IV line feeding into her arm. “There’s someone here to see you. Feel up to company?” Deftly, she applied a cotton ball to Charley’s hand, slid the needle out from under it, and taped the cotton in place. At her words, Charley’s gaze went to the door. Frannie stood in the entry, shifting her weight from foot to foot. At the sight of her cousin, Charley’s chin quivered, but she bit down on her lip to stop the tears welling in her eyes. She refused to break down now. Uncle Victor needed her. “Tell her to come in.” The nurse patted her and moved to Frannie, but Charley could hear their voices. Frannie’s contained a worried tone.
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“Is she going to be all right?” “She’ll be fine,” the nurse reassured her. “It was just a mild case of shock, compounded by the concussion she’d already suffered. She might be a little sleepy and disoriented for another hour or so, but that’s already starting to fade. You can see her now.” Frannie tossed her purse onto a chair, then leaned on the bed rail. “Hi there. I hope you feel better than you look.” Charley forced herself to smile. “That bad, huh?” “Well, let’s just say you don’t have to worry about vampires right now. Doesn’t look like you’ve got enough blood left to interest one.” “I guess there’s a bright side to everything. Now I can throw out the garlic.” Frannie sobered. “Seriously, how are you doing?” “I’ve been better, but I’ll make it.” Her chin quivered again in spite of her efforts to stop it. “I just wish I could say the same about Uncle Victor.” “What are the doctors saying?” “Not much. They’re trying to get him stabilized enough for surgery.” “Charley, he’s going to make it. You have to believe that.” Frannie picked her hand up and squeezed it. “Victor is a tough old coot. He’ll outlive all of us just to prove he can.” “I hope you’re right, Frannie. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t make it. He’s the only father I’ve ever had.” “I know, sweetie. And he loves you, too. He wouldn’t want you to be this upset.” They both looked up as the nurse came back in. “Miss Hart? They’re going to be taking your uncle to surgery in a few minutes. He’s conscious and asking for you. Do you feel up to talking with him?” Charley sat up abruptly, then reeled dizzily. “Oh, no you don’t.” The nurse eased her back down. “You stay right there until I get a wheelchair.” By the time she returned Charley had talked Frannie into lowering the railing, and she was sitting on the side of the bed waiting. With Frannie on one side and the nurse on the other, they helped her into the chair. The room tilted crazily around her as the nurse began to push, and she closed her eyes against the wave of nausea that hit her. “Where is he?” “He’s right in the next room.” Frannie held the door open for them, then stepped back. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.” For Charley, her cousin’s words barely registered. Her gaze was fixed on her uncle and fear ran rampant through her entire body. There were tubes and wires everywhere,
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machines that clicked, beeped, and hissed. A male nurse sat to one side, chart in hand as he monitored the equipment. Victor lay in the center of the bed, unmoving, and Charley had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could speak. Her uncle looked so small and frail. His skin was more gray than white, blood vessels clearly visible below the surface. Gently, she touched his cheek. “Uncle Vic? I’m here.” His lids fluttered then opened, his gaze searching for her. “Charley,” he whispered. She leaned closer, the tears she’d been fighting spilling unnoticed down her face. “Don’t try to talk, Uncle Vic. You need to save your strength. They’re going to take you down to surgery in a few minutes and then everything will fine. I’ve been thinking about it, and when you get out, I’m going to move back home with you. You’ll need someone to take care of you.” “No.” He wet his lips. “No, Charley. I was wrong. Jordan…” Victor took a shaky breath. “I should never have separated the two of you. He loves you.” “Uncle Victor, please.” “Listen to me, Charley. He loves you, and you love him. No matter what happens to me, the two of you belong together.” Two orderlies entered the room. “We need to take him to surgery now, Miss Hart.” Victor’s hand reached weakly for hers. “Promise me, darlin’.” His voice was fading with every second. “Promise…give Jordan…a chance.” Charley nodded. “I will, Uncle Vic. I promise.” The lump in her throat was strangling her. She watched helplessly as the bed bearing her uncle was wheeled from the room.
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Chapter Nineteen “Here. It looks like decaf mud, but at least it’s hot.” Charley took the cup from Frannie and looked around the empty waiting room. “Thanks. What time is it?” “A few minutes after one.” “Why don’t you go home and get some sleep, Frannie? You don’t have to stay just to keep me company.” Frannie plopped onto the plastic-covered chair next to her. “If it were me waiting, would you leave?” Charley sipped the coffee, her smile wry. “No, I guess not.” “Then don’t expect me to leave you.” “Doesn’t it seem to be taking too much time? It’s been hours and hours.” Her cousin surveyed the receptionist barricaded behind a glass window on the far side of the room. “I’m sure the doctors are just being thorough. Besides, knowing Victor, he’s sitting up arguing with them over every move they make.” “Miss Hart?” The receptionist was standing, leaning toward the hole in the glass. Charley handed Frannie her cup, stood and walked across the room. “Have you heard anything about my uncle?” “Not yet. I’m sorry. I just need you to sign these release papers.” Charley took the pen and scrawled her name at the bottom. “This is your copy, and these are instructions in case you have problems.” She handed Charley a stack of papers and a brown manila envelope. “Your belongings are in there.” Charley gathered them up and turned. Ben, still wearing his uniform, had come in and was standing next to Frannie, one arm around her shoulders. “Victor?” She shook her head. “We haven’t heard anything yet. He’s still in surgery.” “How are you?” His gaze searched her face intently. “I’m okay, Ben. They released me about thirty minutes ago.” She deposited the papers on an empty chair and sat down. Ben took the chair next to Frannie. “Has Cole been by?”
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Charley’s heart twisted in her chest, but she kept her eyes on the floor and forced her voice to stay calm. “No, I haven’t seen him.” “I thought for sure he’d stop by and let them fix his arm.” “What’s wrong with his arm?” Her eyes snapped to Ben’s face. “The cast. He pretty well destroyed it when he jumped Ashton.” “When he…” Charley squeezed her eyes shut. Ben leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees. “You don’t remember?” “No.” Her voice was faint. “I remember Uncle Victor moving in front of me. I remember hearing the gunshot. Then nothing but blood.” “If it hadn’t been for Cole, all three of you would probably be dead now. He knocked the gun out of Douglas’ hand. It gave me time to get inside.” Ben hesitated then continued. “You were pretty hard on him, Charley. I know you weren’t aware of what you were doing, but Cole thinks you blame him for Victor getting shot. I guess that’s why he hasn’t come to the hospital. He believes you never want to see him again.” Charley slumped farther down in her seat and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Oh, God, Ben. How did everything get to be such a mess? He probably hates me now.” Frannie put an arm around her. “He doesn’t hate you. I don’t think he could. But he is hurting, Charley. I called Kristy when they took Victor into surgery, and she said Cole came in and went straight upstairs. You need to talk to him.” “I can’t leave Uncle Victor yet. Not until I know for sure how he’s doing.” The need to find Cole and explain, combined with the need to be there for Victor, was tearing her apart. Her uncle’s words kept running through her head. Promise me you’ll give Jordan another chance. But what if he wouldn’t give her one? “Miss Hart?” She had been so deep in thought, she hadn’t even seen the doctor come in. Now, she lurched to her feet. “My uncle?” He smiled. “Your uncle is in the recovery room. The damage was pretty extensive, and it’s going to take some time before he’s back to normal, but I’m pleased to tell you he’s going to make it.” Charley threw herself into the surprised man’s arms and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you. Oh, thank you so much.” She stepped back a little. “Can I see him?” Grinning like an idiot, the doctor shook his head. “He’ll be in recovery for at least four more hours, and he wouldn’t even know you were there. Why don’t you go home and get some rest? You’ve had a rough night. One of the nurses will call you when he starts to wake up. Just make sure they have your number.” Frannie touched her arm. “I’ll go give them your cell phone number. Why don’t you get your things together?”
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“Not much to get.” Charley turned back to the row of chairs as Frannie went to talk to the receptionist. Her blouse, covered with Victor’s blood, had been unsalvageable, but one of the nurses had provided her with a scrub top. The manila envelope contained only the jewelry she had been wearing. She dumped the contents onto the chair seat and picked up the sterling silver ring. It was made from the handle of her mother’s baby spoon, and Charley never let it out of sight. It was one of the few things she had left from her mother. She slipped it onto her right hand and then reached for the gold ID bracelet Cole had given her. “Ben, can you fasten this for me?” She held out her arm. “Sure.” He took the bracelet and draped it over her wrist. Suddenly he stopped. “What’s this on the clasp? Feels like scratches.” “What?” Charley took the bracelet and held the clasp so the light would fall on it. The words jumped out at her. For love of Charley, wife of my heart. Her knees went weak and she sank slowly into the chair. “Oh, God.” Frannie and Ben were both looking at her with concern. “Charley?” Her cousin moved closer. “What’s wrong?” Charley leaped to her feet. “Frannie, I need to borrow your car.” “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “It’s a wonderful idea. The best I’ve ever had. I’m going to find Cole.” Frannie dug the keys out her purse and handed them over.
***** The patio door moved silently along its track as Cole pushed it back and stepped outside. The cool night air ruffled his hair, but he knew that soon the sun would rise and heat would slam down like an iron fist. A new day would dawn. One without Charley in it. In spite of his exhaustion, he had finally given up on sleep. How could he sleep when every time he closed his eyes he saw Charley flinching away from him, heard her voice blaming him for not believing her? A glimmer of moonlight on water caught his attention and he turned to look toward the lake. They had never made it to the glade, and now they probably never would. Not together. But he couldn’t leave without going back at least once. Even as he started through the trees, Cole realized he’d made a decision. He had told Charley he would never leave her again, but how could he stay knowing he’d see her every day? Canyon Bend was too small. It would drive him crazy wondering when he’d turn a corner and she would be there. Seeing her, but never touching her. Loving her, but never able to call her his.
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Kristy liked it here. She could stay and run the business for him. First thing in the morning he would pack his clothes and head back to California. And maybe someday he’d learn to live without Charley. Someday when he was old and gray. He pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on keeping his footing. The path he followed was steep, and the trees blocked what little moonlight was left. At one point, he stumbled, catching himself on a tree, wincing when his left arm caught his weight. The glade was exactly as he remembered it, and that surprised him. After ten years, he’d expected more undergrowth, more trees to have sprung up. But they hadn’t. It was almost as if time had stood still. In the daylight, the glade had always seemed cathedral-like. Huge trees arched overhead, their leaves filtering the sunshine into soft green-gold beams. Wildflowers carpeted the floor and butterflies set the air to shimmering with color. The tiny spring at one edge of the clearing was a constant, lulling tinkle of sound. But as beautiful as it was in the day, the glade at night became an enchanted wonderland. A place where fairies lived and played in the silken, silver light. And it was here that he’d first loved Charley, on a blanket spread near the spring. Here that she’d agreed to marry him. Here that he’d bound his soul and his life to hers, forever. Reverently, he stepped away from the trees and walked to the spring, for a moment just gazing down into its clear depths. With a sigh, he sank down onto a log and buried his face in his hands, the new plaster cast scratchy against his skin. “Charley,” he whispered. “I need you so much.”
***** Charley cursed under her breath as the yellow Volkswagen puttered down the highway. She was so used to driving a truck that Frannie’s car felt more like a wind-up toy than a real means of transportation. It wouldn’t have surprised her in the least to see clowns piling out of it in large numbers. But she was moving, and that was all that counted right now. Excitement tinged with worry flashed through her as she turned into the driveway of the Carstairs house. Not a single light showed from any window as she pulled to a stop behind the white Taurus. But of course, there wouldn’t be. The first touch of day was just now edging over the hills. Everyone would be asleep. An image of Cole, alone in that big bed, eyes shut, hair falling onto his forehead, ran across her mind and she shivered. Would he be happy to see her? She gazed up at the third level, wondering if his patio door was unlocked. It seemed a shame to wake Kristy and Mrs. Paulson. The thought of Mrs. Paulson caused her to immediately abandon any plan to sneak around the house. She really hoped Cole hadn’t bought the woman a gun, but she wasn’t going to chance being mistaken for a bear just in case. She’d just have to ring the bell.
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She leaned on the button and heard the chimes echo inside the house. A minute later, she did it again. Light suddenly spilled down the inside stairs and she saw a shadowed figure moving toward the door. There was a moment of hesitation and then it was pulled open. “Charley!” “I’m sorry to wake you, Kristy, but I need to see Cole.” “Of course. Come in. How is your uncle?” “He’s going to make it.” “Oh, that’s wonderful news.” Kristy glanced over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mrs. Paulson. You can go back to bed.” Charley looked up as the housekeeper’s raspy voice mumbled a complaint, then watched the tiny woman vanish back into her bedroom. “She’ll probably never forgive me for waking her this early.” Kristy smiled. “Are you kidding? She won’t even remember it when she wakes up again.” She tightened the belt on her robe. “I’m glad you’re here, Charley. Cole was pretty upset.” “Did he say anything?” “Only that you hated him and never wanted to see him again.” She shrugged. Charley’s stomach sank. “Then it’s even worse than I thought. Do you think he’ll forgive me?” “You’ll have to ask him that. Shall I get him?” “Would it be all right if I just went up?” Kristy pondered for moment. “I don’t see why not. Actually, I’m a little surprised he didn’t hear the doorbell. That’s not like him.” “He’s probably exhausted.” “You might be right.” She gestured. “After you. If you need me I’ll be in my room.” “Thanks again, Kristy.” “Anytime.” The blonde yawned. Charley paused on the landing until she heard Kristy’s door close and her soft movements cease, then continued up the third flight of stairs to the master suite. Cole’s bedroom door was shut, and she eased it open quietly. Inside was pitch black. “Cole?” She took a tentative step toward the bed. As her eyes began to adjust, she could just see the vague outlines of furniture. From somewhere, a cool breeze touched her cheek. Hand outstretched to avoid obstacles, she reached the bed and stopped. “Cole? It’s me. I need to talk to you.” When there was still no answer, she leaned down and touched the bed, running her fingers across the sheets. Sheets that were cool. He wasn’t there.
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Charley fumbled for the bedside lamp and finally flipped it on. The bed, as was the rest of the room, was empty. Surprised, her gaze drifted to the open patio doors. Would he have left again, without telling Kristy? No, she decided. There was no sign of packing, nothing to indicate he’d left in a hurry. All the personal items that had been there on her last visit were still scattered around the room. It took only one look in the misty gray morning light to see he wasn’t on the patio. Charley stood in half-light, her shoulders slumped. Where could he be? Slowly, she turned to look at the lake, and she knew with a feeling that was beyond comprehension. The glade. He was at the glade. She started off the patio. By the time she reached the trees, she was running.
***** Cole lifted his head and stared at the vision in front of him. She couldn’t be real, had to be a figment his subconscious had conjured. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but was afraid she’d vanish. Strange, the tricks your mind can play, he thought. His vision of Charley had her hands crammed in the pockets of her jeans. Instead of her usual blouse, she was wearing a dull green, cotton top, the kind doctors wore. Her chestnut hair was loose, curling around her shoulders in the damp morning air. And this particular vision looked extremely nervous. “Hi.” Her voice was soft, but Cole blinked, startled. Visions didn’t talk, did they? He continued to stare at her, his breath suspended. She took a small step closer and he caught the tantalizing scent that was uniquely Charley. Warm. Soft. Mysterious. “I hope you don’t mind that I followed you.” Slowly, he stood, his gaze fixed on her face. This was no vision of Charley in front of him. It was the real thing. “How did you know where I was?” She gave a little shrug. “I went to your house. You weren’t there, but your car was still in the driveway, and the patio doors were open. This was the only place I could think of that you might be.” “I see.” Silence descended, broken only by the occasional chirp of an early rising bird. Cole cleared his throat. “How’s Victor?” Charley removed her hands from her pockets, couldn’t seem to decide what to do with them, and stuck them back in. “The doctor says he’s going to be okay. He was in the recovery room when I left.” “That’s good.” “Yes.”
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For another few seconds they stared at each other. “Why were you looking for me?” He couldn’t afford to hope, didn’t dare let himself. He saw her take a long, deep breath, almost as though she were bracing herself, then let it out in an explosive whoosh. “It suddenly occurred to me that I’ve never really answered your question. That wasn’t fair of me.” “Question?” Cole had to fight the urge to stick his own hands in his pockets. “Yes. You asked me to move in with you. I never gave you an answer.” This time, the hope bubbled up inside him in spite of his efforts to squelch it. “And?” He was surprised his voice wasn’t shaky. She pulled her hands out and twisted them together in front of her. “The answer is no.” He couldn’t respond. If he did he’d beg her to change her mind, plead with her to love him. Instead, he gave a single curt nod and started to turn away. “Cole?” He stopped. “You know how small towns are. If we moved in together before the wedding, everyone would still be talking about it in fifty years. Do you really want our children to hear stories about their parents living in sin?” He had always thought that “his heart stopped beating” was just a phrase used in books. It wasn’t. Fighting for air, he turned back to her. “Wedding?” He could barely get the word out. She smiled at him and the whole world exploded in brightness. “Yes. You did propose to me, after all. So the wedding was delayed a little. Better late than never, I always say. I do hope you don’t mind if it’s a big one. I’ve always wanted a fairy-tale wedding with a long white dress and all the trimmings.” He reached her in one step and swept her against him so tightly he was afraid of hurting her, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Charley,” he choked. “Oh, God. I thought I’d lost you forever.” Her arms snaked around his neck, her breath warm on his cheek. “Not a chance, my love. You got away from me the first time. This time I’m going to make sure we make it to the church even if I have to guard you every second.” “Is that a threat?” His lips moved along her jaw to the corner of her mouth. “No,” she whispered turning her face to his. “That’s a promise.” Happiness didn’t even begin to cover the emotion that surged through him. Euphoria, maybe? Whatever it was, he was dizzy with it. Charley’s lips under his, soft and warm, made thinking impossible. She was his. Finally and forever. Nothing else mattered.
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A flame ignited inside him and he was sucked into a whirling maelstrom of sensation that he was incapable of stopping even if he’d wanted to. And he didn’t want to. Something drove him, some final vestige of the years he’d lived without her, to prove to both of them that she belonged to him body and soul, as he belonged to her. Charley clung to him helplessly as his mouth ravaged hers, then trailed down her neck. He forced himself to pause long enough to look into her eyes. They had gone from green to gold, heavy-lidded with desire. “I know,” she murmured. “It’s okay.” With a groan, he stripped her clothes away and lowered her to the ground. His hands and mouth were everywhere, touching, tasting, driving her into such a frenzy of need that she cried out. Even the earthy scent of the grass crushed beneath them added to the pleasure. At her cry, Cole felt moisture flood his eager hand. He could wait no longer. Barely taking the time to unzip his pants, he plunged into her, filled her completely, and felt her tighten around him, hold him inside as though she would never let go. Frantically, his mouth found hers again as he held himself still. As soon as his tongue touched hers, she climaxed, arching off the ground to meet him, and he drank in her moans, needing them more than he needed food or air. And still it wasn’t enough. Balancing his weight on the elbow of his cast laden arm, he began to drive into her, slipped a hand between their joined bodies and touched her swollen core, bringing it back to life, driving her again to the edge. And this time when she reached it, he watched her face. He was the only man who had ever given her that look of ecstasy and now he would be the only one who ever would. Charley belonged to him. The very thought was enough to make him lose control, but at her words, the explosion went soul-deep, shattering him into a million pieces. “My love,” she whispered. “Husband of my heart.” An infinity later Cole managed to gather enough energy to move to one side, but he still couldn’t bear to let her go. Taking her with him, he cradled her close, showering kisses on her closed eyes. A satisfied smile still curved her lips and Cole chuckled. Her eyelids lifted halfway. “Feeling pretty smug, aren’t you?” She lifted a hand languidly and traced his lips. “I guess you have a right to be.” Cole kissed her fingers. “So, when is the big day going to be? And it better not be far off, because I don’t think I can wait much longer.” Charley hesitated. “I’d like to wait until Uncle Victor is out of the hospital and recovered, if you don’t mind.” He didn’t want to ask, but he had no choice. He had to know. “How is Victor going to feel about this? He’s never been real enthusiastic about having me as a member of the family before.”
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Charley shifted a little and gazed at his face. “He knows what he did to us was wrong, Cole. He told me as much himself before they took him into surgery. He made me promise to give you another chance.” “Is that why you’re here? Because you promised Victor?” “No.” She cupped his cheek with her hand. “I’m here because I love you and because I can’t live another day without you. It would have hurt if Uncle Vic hadn’t come around, but it wouldn’t have stopped me.” “I love you, Charley,” he whispered just before his lips met hers.
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Epilogue Charley weaved in and out of the crowds that lined the boardwalk of Duncan Mills’ main street, her gaze sweeping the milling mass of humanity. Frannie had told her that Cole was working here today, but so far he hadn’t been in any of the usual locations she’d checked. Her protruding stomach made navigation through the tourists a major undertaking and she was about to turn back when a loud voice rang out from the center of the street. “Come out of there you lily-livered snake! Or are you afraid to face me?” A grin split Charley’s face as people rushed to the rails to get a better view of the gunfight that was about to take place. It was one of the main attractions that Duncan Mills offered and a huge favorite with the visitors. Directly across the street, the saloon doors parted and the gunslinger stepped out. His black Stetson was pulled low over his eyes and a wooden match dangled carelessly from one corner of his mouth. Spurs jingling, he stepped off the boardwalk and made his way to the center of the street, turning to face the young man waiting on him. “Give it up, boy. A lot of better men than you have tried to take me. They’re all up at Boot hill now.” “Shut up and draw, you coward.” The gunslinger shrugged. He’d done his best to dissuade the kid. Nonchalantly, he opened his duster to reveal the gun belt slung low on his narrow hips and tied down around a muscular thigh. Charleys eyes ran over him speculatively. He was undoubtedly the sexiest gunslinger she’d ever seen. From all around her she could hear the sighs of the female audience members. With elbow cocked and his hand hovering over the butt of his pistol, he waited. “After you, kid.” The kid licked his lips nervously and then went for his gun. It had already cleared the holster before the gunslinger moved. In a blur of speed, his gun seemed to jump into his hand. A single shot rang out. At the other end of the street, the kid spun in a circle and went down. With a flick of his wrist, the gunslinger re-holstered his Colt 45 while the city mortician ran out with a tape measure and began taking the kid’s length and width. As the gunslinger turned away, his gaze moved over the crowd and suddenly met Charley’s. A sheepish grin turned up the corners of his lips. She extended her arm and curled one finger at him. “Caught you, didn’t I?”
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Cole laughed. “I have a reason, honest. Jesse couldn’t do it. He called in sick. There wasn’t time to get anyone else.” “A likely excuse if I ever heard one.” She grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands and pulled him close enough to kiss soundly. “Why don’t you just admit you love it?” “And have you tease me even more than you already do? Not a chance.” He splayed his hand over her round stomach. “How’s junior today?” “Starved. I thought maybe you’d take us to lunch. Marge is saving us a table at the Diamond Lil.” “I’d be honored, Little Lady.” Charley laughed. “I think you’d better stick to gun fighting and leave the impressions alone.” She glanced at the “body” the morticians were hauling off. “Robert is doing a fantastic job, isn’t he?” “He was wasted mowing lawns. And he’s making a lot more money now.” Cole hopped over the rail and put his arm around her shoulder, steering her through the crowd. “What have you been doing all morning?” “Working on the nursery. We only have a few weeks left to go.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “Uncle Victor sent over another present for the baby.” “Charley.” His tone carried a warning and she grinned. “Come on. You know how much he’s looking forward to this baby. And you should see what he sent. It’s a handmade cradle and it’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen one quite like it.” “He’s going to have this baby spoiled rotten before it’s even born.” “Like you aren’t?” “Point taken. But if he’s going to help spoil it, he can darn well come over and walk the floors with it right along with the rest of us.” “I don’t think that will be a problem. The problem will be keeping him and Mrs. Paulson from killing each other fighting over the baby.” She put her arm around his waist. “Are you done for the day?” “I’m supposed to be back for the barroom brawl in a few hours.” “Now, Cole—” “It’s just acting, Charley.” “That’s what you said the last time, and you came home with a black eye and a bloody lip.” “I’ll be careful, I swear.” They reached the shiny red Jag that had been Cole’s wedding present to her and she tossed him the keys. “You drive.” “Something wrong?”
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For Love of Charley
She smiled at him. “No, just a little backache.” Suddenly her expression changed to one of surprise. “Charley, what is it?” He was beginning to sound panicked. “I think you may have to put off your brawl. My water just broke.”
***** Cole pulled the blanket down and gazed at the tiny bundle in his arms. He’d never been so awed or so terrified in his entire life. His son. “He looks just like you.” The baby was wearing a knitted cap, but Cole knew he had a whole head full of dark hair. “He has your chin. That means he’s going to be stubborn as a mule.” Charley stroked the tiny cheek. “I can’t believe he’s so perfect, Cole.” They both looked up as the door opened. What seemed to be an entire greenhouse of roses appeared first, followed immediately by Victor Channing. He paused just inside the door. “Is it safe to come in?” Cole glanced at Charley, then smiled. “Sure. I’ve been told they don’t actually bite at this age.” Victor moved farther into the room and put they flowers on the stand beside Charley’s bed. Standing carefully, Cole stepped to his side and put the baby in his arms. “Victor, meet Colby Wade Jordan, your great-nephew.” For a moment Victor seemed stunned, then tears filled his eyes as he stared at the baby. “Thank you, Cole. Thank you for everything.” He felt Charley grip his hand tightly and looked down at her. “I love you,” she whispered. Cole leaned over and kissed her. “And I love you.”
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About the Author In real life, I’m Kathy to those who know me, since Katherine has always sounded snooty to my ears. Physically, I’m 5’5” with brown eyes. The rest of me is subject to change at the whim of my caloric intake, exercise regimen (or lack thereof), and Miss Clairol. I’ve worked at everything from killing bugs to telephone operator. I have a degree in journalism that is stuffed in a drawer somewhere. I’ve been writing for seven years now and have sold seven novels, five most recently to Cerridwen Press. The Sweet Gum Tree won the PASIC Book of Your Heart contest in 2002 in the single title category. I’ve been a member of Romance Writers of America since the day I started writing, and serve as judge for numerous chapter contests. I’ve been married to the same man for thirty-eight years now. We got married when I was two. That’s my story, I’m sticking to it. Katherine welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
Also by Katherine Allred For Love of Charley Second Time Around Sweet Revenge The Sweet Gum Tree What Price Paradise
Cerridwen, the Celtic goddess of wisdom, was the muse who brought inspiration to storytellers and those in the creative arts. Cerridwen Press encompasses the best and most innovative stories in all genres of today’s fiction. Visit our site and discover the newest titles by talented authors who still get inspired—much like the ancient storytellers did, once upon a time. www.cerridwenpress.com