Facing the Fire Page 10

  Time she acknowledged the real way her future was headed.

  And stop running.

  Maggie was starting to suspect she’d deluded herself a bit in Texas. There, without him right in front of her, she’d convinced herself she hadn’t loved Clint after all.

  Well, now…she just wasn’t so sure.

  First, she was going to conquer the horse barn.

  Then…she was going to conquer the man.

  One way or another.

  It was time Maggie stopped running from life.

  Darby, Clint’s horse, was a big dark brown guy with soulful eyes and a gentle way about him in spite of his massive size. Except when he was working the small herd of cattle Clint was growing.

  Clint planned to diversify his properties someday. He wanted the cattle, specialty horses, and wanted to rent out the four houses on the other two ranches—there were two foreman’s houses on Clint’s properties, too. But they needed a lot of work and updating. Once the money was actually there to do it.

  Four rental properties, plus income from the ranch. He’d told her all about how he intended to support Violet and the new baby on the way back from Texas. He’d been almost excited about his plans. About how different things were going to be going forward.

  She knew what he’d been hinting.

  He had been telling her in his own way that he had a plan for how to take care of her, too.

  Darby whickered softly in greeting. She had been standing by Darby when the bullets had struck the barn. Struck the support beam right there.

  It had splintered, sending shards shooting toward her and the horse. She’d instinctively wrapped herself around Violet to protect her, at the last moment, then fallen to the ground. Darby had almost stomped on the both of them that day.

  Darby had taken the worst of the shrapnel that day.

  But they were safe now. Even Darby. She spent a few moments talking to him, rubbing his nose lightly.

  Crying.

  She must have cried for fifteen minutes, before the urge to go to the restroom again hit her.

  She gave a watery laugh when the baby kicked her, reminding her that he was awake, and his afternoon gymnastics session was about to begin.

  Clint’s baby was definitely going to be very, very active. Hell on wheels—like his father and his five uncles.

  Maggie headed inside, taking the shortcut to the rear of the house.

  She had to figure out what it was she wanted, first. For real. Without the lies she’d told herself in Finley Creek.

  Then…then she’d take that next step.

  Whatever that step happened to be.

  24

  Jasper had one chance to get this right. The blackmailer, or whatever he wanted to call him, had gotten so close to Jasper’s little Clancy—his baby—that Jasper could see the birthstone necklace Jody had given the girl for her birthday when Clancy had been fourteen in perfect detail. Right there.

  The blackmailer had to have been within six feet of his baby girl to take that photo. Right there, next to his baby girl.

  Coupled with the call Cloe had reported—it told him one thing.

  It was time Jasper acted. Did what he had to do.

  This was more than just calling Cloe at the hospital. It was simple to figure out where Cloe worked—there was only the one hospital in Masterson County, after all, and a handful of medical offices and clinics. He could count them on one hand. But to be that close to one of his daughters…

  Rage boiled.

  And impotence.

  His hands were tied. Jasper knew that.

  He had to find the incriminating evidence. Destroy it.

  That was the first step. The second was eliminating the blackmailer, and anyone else who had seen that evidence so that they couldn’t come back to haunt Jasper’s children later.

  He’d searched Clive’s old place in town first, but there was a young woman living in that house, who seemed to only leave for work and an occasional trip to the diner now and then.

  Jasper had had to be a bit more clever in getting in to that place.

  The young woman had moved into Clive’s place from somewhere in the next county over. He’d met her before, a reserved social worker who truly thought she was helping the kids. A pretty woman around Claudia’s age named Judith, with pale flawless skin, dark hair and big green eyes behind purple rimmed glasses.

  She’d reminded him of Jody when he’d first met her. That sweet, loving air and quiet vulnerability about her was quite captivating. Brought back those memories.

  Poor thing would be disillusioned along with the rest of the social workers eventually. Jasper had seen it happen before.

  There had been nothing of Clive’s left anywhere on the property. Jasper had gotten in and out of the woman’s house just the night before, while she was working late. She worked late far too often. It just wasn’t safe for a woman out there in the more deserted parts of the county, not that late at night.

  Anything could happen to her out there all alone.

  Her bedroom had smelled feminine and sexy and he’d wanted to linger. To figure out that beautiful woman’s secrets.

  He found her almost as fascinating as he did Marin Talley. They were close to the same age, he thought. Beautiful, sexy—fascinating.

  It had been a long while since he’d spent time surrounded by the scent of a beautiful woman. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he’d checked her underwear drawer. Searched it. Just to be thorough.

  The social worker preferred serviceable cotton and lace over silk.

  Pity. He had been imagining that her staid business suits she always wore hid racy silk in bold, sexy colors. But her bedsheets had been silk. He’d run his hand over her pillow just to feel the soft against his skin. Imagined her in that bed at night.

  Imagined himself next to her.

  Nothing had been where Clive had said it would be. Damn him.

  Either Clive was seriously confused, or he was jerking Jasper around.

  The next logical place was this. Jasper had seen Clint and Bob Weatherby’s oldest son cleaning out Clive’s house himself that day right before the social worker had bought it.

  Carrying old boxes he would bet his entire bank account on had contained case files. They’d loaded Weatherby’s truck up, and then Clint’s. And taken off.

  If he was Clint, he’d want those old case files someplace close. To protect them, if needed. Yes. This made the most sense.

  They had to be around Clint’s place somewhere.

  Maybe…maybe Jasper was starting to get a bit desperate. He’d have to be careful; not make stupid mistakes.

  He had to slow himself down. Calm down. Before he did something that destroyed everything he had worked for.

  He could have been caught so easily at Clive’s old place. The entire town would have been screaming about how he’d been digging through that woman’s underwear drawer. Stalking her or something. It would have scared the shit out of her.

  Mayor Jasper Grady—nothing but a sick, sexual pervert.

  He wasn’t that. Not at all.

  To his shame, he had almost sort of enjoyed the excitement of it. Watching Judith for two days, making certain she wouldn’t be home when he was there.

  It had reminded him of how he’d felt, following Jody around town back when they first met.

  How he’d wanted her. How she hadn’t wanted him.

  Jasper had eventually changed her mind.

  He wasn’t stupid. He knew how small towns operated. He’d seen it before—whenever something happened and someone in Masterson got arrested. The entire town would be talking about it. And the person’s family would be affected.

  He worried most for his Claudia if he was ever caught. She was just getting started in the WHP. She had a long way to go; she was only twenty-six and had been on the job less than two years. He’d wanted her to have a four-year degree first and had pushed for it.

  She’d listened.

  He wa
s so proud of her, but she was a woman in law enforcement, with the mayor for her father. She would always have to overcome that, as it was.

  Add in him being arrested and going to prison for his part in a murder when she was just in elementary school—that could destroy her career before it even got started.

  He couldn’t do that to his girl, not as hard as she’d worked to get to where she was. He just couldn’t.

  He had a signal jammer. It hadn’t been too hard to order it off the internet once he knew where to look. He’d had it for a while. A few weeks; since the blackmailer had gotten more insistent. He’d bought it the same time he’d bought the wig on the seat next to him.

  Jasper couldn’t be stupid. And he couldn’t get caught.

  No. That would destroy everything.

  He jammed the signal, ensuring that whatever security system Clint had had in place the last time Jasper had been out there couldn’t stop him this time. Everyone was using the WiFi security systems these days, and why not? Jammers were illegal in the US.

  A random punk burglar wasn’t going to be able to get their hands on one. Not that easily, not in Masterson. Jasper had had to call on some old…friends…to have one appearing on his doorstep.

  Jasper slipped out of his truck and to the back door.

  It was time.

  He couldn’t stay there forever. Clint was going to return eventually.

  He’d passed the younger man on the main highway an hour ago, just before the man turned into the drive of the old Carson place.

  If he was visiting Mrs. Carson, Clint would be a long while. That woman loved to talk.

  Jasper tried the door handle. He had a set of lock picks, and he had known how to use them for years. He might be a bit rusty, but he knew what he could do. They’d gotten him into the social worker’s place, after all. Judith.

  He’d have to make a point of catching her in the diner for lunch one day, pay for her meal. Silently make it up to her what he had done.

  Get those green eyes turned in his direction for a little while.

  Gunderson’s back door was unlocked.

  That surprised Jasper, considering what he knew about Clive’s son. What he knew had happened out here. If it had been him, Jasper would have had the place locked up like a fortress.

  Most people in Masterson County did leave their doors unlocked, but that a former WHP IA detective would? Well, that defied all logic.

  He waited a moment, listening for the dog.

  That dog could be a real problem.

  He didn’t want to have to hurt him, but Jasper would if it became necessary. Maybe.

  Maybe he’d just slip the dog something to make him sleep a while, instead.

  He waited for the barking to start.

  Nothing. The dog hadn’t heard him, then.

  Jasper stepped inside.

  25

  She’d cried over what had happened, cried for dreams she’d made when she’d been stupid and foolish, now…Maggie was going to put what had happened behind her.

  Deal with Clint, the man he was now, and quit wrapping him up in the memories of what had happened before.

  What had happened five and a half months ago had changed her. It had changed them both.

  They were different people than they had been then. It was time they learned how to accept that about one another. Maybe it was time she learned to accept that about herself.

  She didn’t know if she loved him. But she had time to figure it out.

  It might be the return to Masterson County throwing her off. The readjustment to the world she had just abruptly had to leave behind.

  Maggie didn’t know.

  Seems like whenever Clint got near, everything she did know went straight out the window.

  The man sure knew how to do two things—confuse her and send her hormones into overdrive.

  Her boots crunched on the melting snow as she made her way to the side door off the kitchen.

  She slipped her boots off in the mudroom and hit the powder room as quickly as she could. At least the powder room was strategically placed for a busy ranch.

  Small blessings.

  She’d pull on some thick socks—thankfully, she could still reach her feet even with the baby—and settle herself down in the kitchen.

  Maggie wanted cookies.

  Clint had kept her mother’s recipe box; it had been right where she’d left it. But the rest of the kitchen had been remodeled. Perfectly.

  Maggie had been dying to check out the new, six-burner, double-oven gas stove for days. She loved to cook—and hadn’t gotten much opportunity in the last six months. Not with Houghton’s personal chefs on duty twenty-four hours a day.

  Maggie wanted cookies. And she had Flo Talley’s cranberry oatmeal cookie recipe right there.

  She could have cookies waiting when Clint and Violet made it back from the store.

  Just like she used to.

  It was time to take Maggie back.

  She could do it.

  Maggie had just come out of the powder room and rounded the corner to the back hallway to grab warm socks when a sound had her stopping.

  “Kody? Come here, baby. Is that you?” He had a doggy door on the utility room entrance that Clint left unlocked during the day when someone was around the ranch. He went in and out all day long. Usually loudly.

  He was a bit of a klutz.

  She looked up as she rounded the hall corner.

  A man stood in the hallway.

  And it definitely wasn’t Clint.

  26

  She wasn't supposed to be there.

  Jasper bit back a curse when he rounded the corner of the hallway and came face to face with a heavily pregnant redheaded woman he recognized. She was no older than his Cloe.

  The woman's gorgeous blue eyes widened. She took a few steps back.

  Jasper resisted the urge to adjust the wig he wore and the fake beard he’d glued on as a precaution.

  Hell, she was just a kid. He’d attended her graduation the same time as his middle girl’s. They’d been friends for years.

  Her abdomen was swollen unmistakably, surprising him.

  Never would he have guessed this girl would be wandering around Clint Gunderson’s place in her bare feet, her stomach swollen with some man’s baby.

  She wasn’t married. She had no business having some man’s baby.

  Clint’s. It had to be Clint Gunderson’s.

  He wondered if Clive knew he was getting another grandchild soon.

  He hadn’t realized one of the other Tyler girls was pregnant. Well, two or three of Phil Tyler’s girls were all pregnant, he thought. Hard to keep with the Tylers sometimes. They all looked alike, were all around the same ages, and were just about everywhere a man turned—every last one of them redheaded and blue-eyed, as far as he knew.

  He knew the girls better than the boys.

  This wasn’t one of Phil’s. He was certain of it.

  Just how vulnerable she was to him hadn’t been lost—on either one of them.

  There was no way in hell he'd ever be able to hurt this young woman. He’d known her since she was in diapers herself.

  It took him a moment, but she didn’t’ have thick glasses—or a Masterson brother next to her. Had to be… "I'm not here to hurt you, Maggie. I'm just looking for something."

  "W-what?"

  "I'm not going to hurt you." He tucked the gun back in the holster he carried. Then put his hands where she could see them. "I'm just here looking for something of Clive's. That's all."

  "Then why didn't you come to the front door? Knock?" She was inching her way to the rear door of the kitchen. He wasn’t about to let her run out into the cold and wet barefooted. “I-I’d have given it to you.”

  Jasper shook his head at her. He reached out and encircled her wrist. He’d have to do something with her, to buy himself time to get out of here. “I don’t think it would have been that simple.”

  He tried to disguise his
voice just in case she recognized him. It was possible. She’d spent the night in his damned house at least a dozen times he could remember off the top of his head.

  The last thing he wanted to do was frighten one of his children’s old playmates. He wasn’t that kind of monster.

  Maggie was just a girl. From the size of her baby belly, she was about to be a mother any day. She didn’t need him scaring her like this.

  “Clint is more than willing to get rid of anything to do with Clive. Take what you want and go.”

  She yanked against him. He pulled her closer with one hand. Those big blue eyes of hers—every Tyler he knew had eyes near that shade—were terrified.

  Jasper was a father to three daughters. He had always hated it when they were afraid. Poor kid. This was the last thing this girl needed. She looked ready to deliver that baby at any time.

  “It Gunderson’s? The baby?”

  She nodded, almost frantically.

  Clint never should have left her alone. Anything could happen to a lone pregnant woman this far from town.

  Clint should have known that by now.

  Of course, Jasper had left Jody home by herself thousands of times. He wasn’t a sexist. Far from it. But this pregnant?

  No. Maggie should never have been left here alone like this.

  "Hold still. I am not here to hurt anyone. But I need you to cooperate. Don't make me get the gun out. I do know how to use it.”

  "What are you looking for? Maybe I can help you find it?" There was so much hope, so much fear in her words…it hurt him to hear it. Poor, sweet kid.

  He always had loved pregnant women. Something so…special…about them.

  "It's a box and an old case file. A very specific one. From years ago. Probably in a plastic bin somewhere.” Clint Gunderson and that Weatherby had been carrying clear plastic bins out of Clive’s old place. Jasper was almost certain of it.

  "Clint has case files in the rear office. And out in the small barn. Just behind the kitchen door. You are welcome to go in there and look. I think some of them may be his step-father's."

  "Step-father?"

  "Clive isn't his real father."