Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

C HARLOTTE HATED THE hospital smell, the sounds of machines and squeak of nurses' shoes scurrying around, but worse, she hated the worried, scared looks on people's faces as they waited for news about their loved ones. She promised herself she wouldn't break down even as tears burned her eyes. She pushed open the door to Holden's room.

He had always been big and strong, like a tree that had withstood years of storms to stand tall to the very end. She knew this man's heart, had heard it pound in sync with hers. She couldn't bear the thought that it might stop beating and she might never lay her head on his chest and hear it again.

She moved to his bedside slowly, afraid that he might already have left her. Relief filled her eyes with fresh hot tears as she saw the rise and fall of his chest. She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat, her heart breaking at the sight of him lying there so helpless.

"Holden, I'm here." Her voice broke as she looked down at his hand. It was large like his heart, strong, and yet it could be so gentle. She lifted it from the bed to hold it to her lips for a moment.

Her words came out a whisper. "I love you. I've always loved you. Will always love you. I'm so sorry." She placed his hand back on the bed and brushed her fingers over his cheek. "I understand if you can never forgive me. But don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

She heard the hospital room door open. Hurriedly she wiped her tears, then turned, knowing her time was up. Holden would survive—she had to believe that. But she feared he would never forgive her and would be lost to her forever. Taking a deep breath, she let it out as she nodded to the nurse and left, her heart shattered in a million little pieces.

I T WAS SOMETHING one of the regulars from the Wild Horse Bar in town had said that had gotten Birdie thinking—and had gotten her mind off Holly Jo and her fear for her for a little while. She found elderly retired ranch hand Elmer Franklin on his usual stool, bellied up to the bar, drinking coffee with a couple of his friends.

His face lit up when he saw her. She walked up to him. "Mind if I have a word?" She motioned to a table against the wall, away from the bar.

Elmer flushed, looked to his friends, then slid off his stool. "Get you somethin' to drink?" She shook her head, so he brought his cup of coffee with him as he followed her over to the table. As she pulled out a chair and sat down, she could see that he was nervous. It made her even more certain that he knew something.

Birdie waited as he sat down. He was about the age her father would have been now. She swallowed that thought. "You said something yesterday that got me thinking."

"Can't imagine anything I would say that would be worth mulling over." He said it into the coffee cup before taking a sip.

"You said that the last time you saw my father, he was threatening to do something crazy."

"Did I?" He chuckled and looked back in the direction of the bar.

"Elmer, I need to know what he said to you. Please."

"Not good to speak ill of the dead," he muttered. "Especially to his daughter."

"I'm looking for the truth. So don't honey-coat it." Her grandmother had told her that she might not like what she learned. At the time, she hadn't believed that it might be true. Nana had always spoken favorably of her son. Was this going to be what her grandmother had been talking about?

"What was he threatening to do?" she asked quietly, leaning toward Elmer, and waited.

He cleared his throat, licked his lips and met her gaze. "He was upset, worse than usual. I never much paid attention to anything he said when he was upset." She waited as patiently as possible as Elmer shuffled his feet under his chair and took another sip of his coffee. "He was trying his best to get along with that woman. Everyone knew what Charlotte was like." Still she waited. "He said he'd discovered something interesting that he might use against her."

"Something about..."

"Brand, her son. She'd been talking to the boy—he must have been about five, I think—but when he left to go outside, she said, ‘He is so much like you. Damn you, Holden.' Dixon got out of there lickety-split, but he said he'd noticed before that the boy didn't even look like the others."

"What did he plan to do with this information?" she asked, heart in her throat as Elmer looked away and shifted in his seat. "He threatened to use it against Charlotte." That most certainly could have gotten him killed, she thought.

But Elmer was shaking his head. "He was more interested in talking to the boy's father."

"He told Holden McKenna?"

"You've got to understand," Elmer said. "He'd pretty much given up on making the marriage work. He was broke, and Charlotte had made it clear that when she kicked him out, he wouldn't be getting a dime. He thought Holden might be willing to help him out to keep the truth about Brand quiet."

"Blackmail?" Birdie didn't want to believe it. But she'd known that her father must have been desperate. "So what happened?"

Elmer shrugged. "I never saw him again. Who knows if he went to the McKenna Ranch or if he went back to Charlotte that night? No one saw him again."

H OLD EN OPENED HIS EYES . P AIN . For a moment he couldn't remember what had happened to him. Then it came back in a rush, accompanied by even more pain.

"Holly Jo?" The words came out a whisper, his throat so dry, his tongue felt as if it was covered in cotton. "Holly Jo?" He looked over at the person sitting in the chair next to his bed, not surprised to see Elaine.

She rose quickly to come to his bedside. He'd never seen her so upset, but she regained control and said, "Holly Jo's still alive, but we haven't been able to bring her home yet."

He looked around the room, then at Elaine. "Charlotte?"

"She was here. She's been here since she heard, but they are only allowing family in to see you."

Holden frowned. "I must have dreamed—"

"I talked them into letting her see you for just a few minutes," Elaine said. "You know how she is. She would have found a way to see you one way or another."

He nodded, struggling to keep his eyes open. "I've made such a mess of things."

"All you need to worry about is getting well and out of this hospital bed."

"I need to see the sheriff."

"Holden, I don't think—"

"Stuart. Tell him. Please." He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting. Lottie. He hadn't dreamed it. She'd been here. But had the rest been merely a hallucination? He looked down at his hand, remembering her touch. She'd said she loved him. That definitely could have been a dream.

He must have slept, because when he opened his eyes again, Sheriff Stuart Layton was sitting in the chair next to his bed. He tried to speak, his throat too tight, his mouth too dry.

Stuart got up to get him a cup of water.

He took a sip, so thirsty he wanted to down the entire cup. "Holly Jo?" he managed to say after a few sips.

"She wasn't in the pickup last night. Darius hadn't brought her with him for the trade."

He'd suspected as much.

"Still trying to find her and the kidnapper," the sheriff continued. "He wants the rest of the money. He called. I'm making the drop this evening. I'm going to get the girl back."

Holden could see the weight of all this on the sheriff. He hated that he'd only added to that burden by letting his anger get the best of him. He could have gotten them both killed up on that mountain.

"You need to know the truth," Holden said. "Should have told you sooner. You were right. He doesn't really care about the money or an apology or acknowledgment. He wants to destroy me." He grabbed the sheriff's hand. "I know now. He'll kill Holly Jo."

B IRDIE PRIED OPEN the window and swung her leg over the sill. She listened for a moment before she dropped into the room. Looking around, she saw that she'd guessed right. It was a bedroom. But was it the right one?

The room was at the back of the house. From where she stood in the dim early light of morning, the room showed no sign of being inhabited. The bed had been made to perfection as if the place was a five-star hotel. It smelled good, too.

As she rounded the bed, headed for the closed closest door, she stumbled over something that had been left on the floor. Looking down, she saw what she had tripped over. A pair of cowboy boots casually kicked off. A few feet away was a long-sleeved Western shirt. She picked up the shirt and took a sniff, smiling at the familiar male scent. This was the right room.

As her eyes adjusted to cool darkness, she followed a trail of discarded clothing from the man-size cowboy boots to the door she suspected went to the bathroom. She could hear water running as she got closer. The room had taken on a different scent, distinctly male, as she moved past socks, jeans, a T-shirt and finally a worn straw cowboy hat.

Quietly, she opened the bathroom door into the steam-filled room. She could see Brand behind the frosted glass. He'd told her that she was too impulsive. She wondered if he'd still feel that way in a few minutes as she stripped off her clothing and opened the shower door.

B RAND THOUGHT FOR a moment this amazing creature coming through the steam was only a dream. But he couldn't have dreamed this beauty before him. Water beaded on her long dark hair. Rivulets ran down over her full breasts, into the hollow of her flat stomach and straight to the V between her legs.

My God, she was extraordinary. Birdie smiled at his obvious surprise at seeing her appear in his shower as she joined him under the warm spray and closed the shower door behind her.

"No water at your hotel?" he asked as he stepped back to give her more room in the large shower.

"How did you know?" She gave him an innocent look.

"Probably no soap either?" he asked as he reached for the bath gel, poured some into his palm. Moving closer, he slowly began to lather her shoulders. She leaned into him as he massaged her neck, gently caressing her throat.

"You know where this will get you, don't you?" she asked, holding his gaze.

When he didn't respond right away, she added, "Need some time to think about it?"

He chuckled as he slid his soapy hands slowly down to her breasts. "I'm pretty happy right where I am." Her nipples were already hard and pulsing as he smoothed the gel over the rock-hard tips, cupping her breasts, thumbing the rosy tips until she let out a pleasurable sound.

Their gazes locked. "So we're finally no longer skating around this? We're really going to do this?"

She smiled. "Give the county something to really talk about, you mean?"

He nodded, unable to believe he was here with this woman. The old Brand would have run like hell from a woman like Birdie Malone. That Brand didn't take chances, especially with his heart.

But here he was, and he'd never felt more alive, more ready to put that man he'd been behind him. Loving Birdie was risky. It was scary as hell, but he was already halfway there. He drew her closer, their bodies molding together as he dropped his mouth to hers.

B IRDIE TRIED TO catch her breath as they drew apart from the kiss. His hands cupped her wet breasts before trailing down over her belly, dipping between her legs. His fingers were slick and wet. She had to lean back against the shower wall as her legs began to quiver. He leaned into her, kissing her as his fingers moved. She moaned against his mouth, gripping his shoulders as the heat inside her rose and rose, catching fire as her climax came hard and fast, making her shudder with the intensity of it. She fell into him, his arms coming around her as she caught her breath, legs wobbly. He drew her closer, kissing her tenderly, his hands cupping her buttocks.

Drawing back from a kiss, she picked up the shower gel and, after filling her palm, began to explore his body. She'd already seen his impressive naked chest, but the sight of the muscular rest of him was truly spectacular. She said as much, making him laugh.

"Haven't been with a man for a while?" he joked.

She moved her hands over his chest, his hard nipples, and went lower, avoiding his gaze.

"Birdie?" he asked and reached down to capture her hands, to still them in his. "You have been with other men, right?"

She let out a laugh. "Of course." Still she didn't meet his eyes.

"How many?"

"Seriously? You want to have that conversation now?" She raised her eyes slowly. Their gazes locked. "Not that many, okay? Don't laugh, but maybe I've been saving myself for a good man, the right man, like my grandmother told me to."

He let go of her hands. "You sure you don't want to keep looking?"

She leaned into him, kissing him as she felt his desire throbbing against her belly. "Don't count yourself short, Brand Stafford. You're a good man. The right one?" She cocked her head. "I guess only time will tell." She took him in hand, making him groan.

"You're going to be the death of me, Birdie Malone."

She laughed and pulled him close. "I'll be right there with you all the way."

The water turned cold in an instant. Ice-cold. They both yelped, then began laughing as Brand hurriedly turned off the shower and they pushed open the door, stumbling out to grab towels.

As Birdie wrapped one around her chilled body, she felt Brand's gaze on her. She swallowed as she looked up at him. In for a penny, in for a... Whatever. She couldn't remember all of her grandmother's sayings.

He took a step toward her, and her mouth went dry.

Maybe he wasn't the right man—at least, he didn't think so—but she wanted him, more than she'd ever wanted anything. Sorry, Grandma.

H E SAID HIS name was Darius Reed. As they waited in the truck back up a gully for the cover of darkness, he talked, telling Holly Jo stories about growing up in the Powder River Basin. The more he talked, the sadder he sounded, frightening her. It was as if he'd given up. He was no longer talking about starting a fire out at the McKennas' or spending all Holden's money. He talked about the past and the death of his sister, Constance.

"Why do you hate Holden?" she'd asked as he'd fallen silent for a moment. After his phone call, he'd taken the tape off her mouth, but left her tied up.

He'd looked up, tears in his eyes. "Constance was my older sister. Holden ruined her life." She listened as he told her how Holden had taken advantage of his sister, getting her pregnant up on Suicide Pass, Holden's father throwing money at her instead of making his son do the right thing. "She had a son."

"What happened to him?" Holly Jo asked quietly.

"Constance couldn't handle him when he got older. He died robbing a liquor store down in Wyoming when he was fourteen. He needed a father, his real father, not the men Constance brought into the house. She never got over Holden. She'd had a crush on him for years. Our father worked for one of the oil drilling companies way back when. She met Holden at a rodeo, thought he was somethin'."

She tried to imagine HH at sixteen and couldn't. Just a boy not that much older than her.

"The last time Constance saw Holden, he showed up with his father. Now, there was a real bastard. The old man said there was no way his son was going to marry her and shoved money at her, warning her that he never wanted to see her again. I was too young to do anything about it. Not that Constance would have let me. She had a lot of pride, blamed herself for falling for him. But I've always known that it was Holden who ruined her life. She died alone. No son. No husband. Not even me since I didn't even know she was so sick."

She heard him making excuses for not being there for his sister. "My mother died of cancer."

He looked over at her. "I think I heard that." He frowned. "Why'd Holden take you in?"

She shook her head. "He says he promised her that if anything happened to her, he would take me."

"Huh. You know there's more to that story, right?"

Holly Jo suspected so.

Darius fell silent for a few minutes before he said, "I need to get some sleep. Got work to do tonight. It all ends tonight." With that, he curled in the corner behind the steering wheel and fell into a troubled sleep.

She waited, then tried to untie herself, but the rope was too tight. It bit into her wrists. Even if she could free herself, her side of the pickup was missing the door handle. She would have had to climb over the man to get out.

Finally, she closed her eyes. Whatever he had planned tonight involved gasoline and fire and the McKenna Ranch. Holly Jo couldn't even cry, her tears long dried up. It would end tonight, just as he said. She no longer held out any hope that someone was going to find her in time.