She laughed. “Neither. I get my hair from my grandfather, although his was more auburn than red.”
“Didn’t your father like ranching?”
She shrugged. “At first. But it was my mother’s people who owned it originally. Dad was a city boy. He came from Billings, Montana. His uncle was buying cattle and Mom’s dad, my granddad, had a sale. That’s how they met. It was unusual to find a really pretty rancher’s daughter in those days, but my mother was a knockout,” she added with a smile. “She had long, wavy blond hair and green eyes and a beautiful figure.” She sighed. “I figured that her body was the main attraction to Dad, not her fascination with helping people. It was a bad marriage. They argued all the time when I was a kid, although not when Granddad was around. He never liked Dad. It was mutual. Dad wouldn’t even come to his funeral.”
“Was it long ago?”
“About ten years,” she said. “He’s buried next to Granny in the family cemetery. So is my mom.” Her face tautened. “Dad said he’d see about moving the graves.”
“That must hurt, giving up so much family history,” he said solemnly.
“It really hurts. But I don’t know enough about ranching to run a ranch the size of my grandfather’s. I’m not even sure how many cattle are still there. Dad had a foreman in place who seemed pretty competent. At least, Dad’s still able to attract women and that takes money, so I guess the ranch pays its way.”
“Doesn’t he help you?” he asked curiously.
“I support myself,” she said heavily. She looked up at John. “Frankly, I’d starve to death before I asked my father for a crumb of bread.”
He shook his head. “I’m truly sorry. It’s not like that with my family.”
“No, it’s not,” she said, and her voice softened. “Your parents are incredible. So are your sister and brother and your in-laws. You landed in a great place when you were born.”
He smiled without sarcasm. “I was blessed, all right. Doubly blessed, if I include getting my big brother back in one piece not too long ago.”
She glanced at him. “Is it something you can talk about? I mean, I know about him being a former government agent and somebody trying to kill him...?”
“We talk about it anyway,” he said. “There was a deadly incident overseas. Tanner’s boss was involved. Tanner and one or two other people saw it firsthand, but Tanner was the only one who was willing to talk about it. His boss tried to have him killed overseas. We were convinced he was dead. But we have some unusual friends.” He laughed. “Tony Garza had connections to a bigger crime boss in the Bahamas. They helped us rescue Tanner and bring him home.”
“Wow.” She was thinking fast. She knew he meant Marcus Carrera, who had a huge casino in the Bahamas. Carrera knew her, because he’d helped them with a case in the past. But Tony, the New Jersey boss, wouldn’t know her. “Are any of them coming for Christmas?” she asked.
“Not likely. The Carreras are expecting again, so they’ll stay close to home. And Tony...” He hesitated. “We never know about Tony. I’m fairly certain that he’s crazy about my sister and vice versa, but so far they’re more likely to kill each other than celebrate a holiday together.”
“Your sister-in-law works for Mr. Garza, doesn’t she?”
She couldn’t help but notice him stiffen at just the mention of Stasia. “Yes. He’s been very good to her,” he said.
She studied his taut face. “You know, sometimes things don’t work out because something more perfect is waiting just down the road.”
He turned toward her, eyes glittering, spoiling for a fight. “Are you trying to say something?”
She drew in a long breath. “All my life, I’ve wanted things that I thought I’d die for, only to have them slip right through my hands. But every single time, when I lost something, I found something that was worlds better.” She reached out hesitantly and touched his arm. “Life hurts,” she said softly. Her eyes met his. “Sometimes it hurts really bad. But there’s always something just over the hill that makes up for the pain.” She smiled sadly. “My mother used to tell me that sorrow carves out a deep place inside us for joy to fill. She was an incurable optimist. For her, the glass was always half-full, never half-empty.”
He caught her hand in his and studied her. He’d meant to snap at her for making a comment about his feelings for Stasia and he was ready for a comeback. But she’d knocked the fire off his temper. She was so different from women he’d known. She had that hard competence that sat so uneasily beside a personality that was alternately spicy and sweet. Add a touch of innocence to the mix, and she became a conundrum.
“You don’t date much, do you?” he asked suddenly.
She blinked. The question was unexpected. “Well, no, I don’t,” she said slowly. The feel of his hand around hers was making her giddy and she was trying not to show it. “The world is so... well, so free and easy these days. My mother said a woman’s character was what gave her value. And that if she passed herself around like a party favor, she’d end up alone and miserable, because the really good sort of person would draw back out of fear that she’d treat marriage as lightly as she treated her body. In other words, she’d have no staying power in a long relationship.” She shrugged. “That’s my dad in a nutshell. The way he is, going from one woman to another without sentiment or real commitment, he’ll never settle into a lasting relationship. He’ll keep changing women like shirts until he’s too old or toopoor to attract any more of them.” She shifted her foot on the fence rung. “The older I get, the more I feel sorry for him. But it’s his example that’s kept me apart from relationships. I don’t want to end up like he has.”
“My parents were never like that,” John said solemnly.
She smiled up at him. “They’re both unique,” she said softly. “It shows, in the way all of you grew into responsible adults. They did a good job of raising you.”
He brought her hand to his broad chest under the sheepskin coat he was wearing. “You’re not so bad, either,” he said involuntarily.
“Oh, sure,” she laughed nervously. He was closer than she’d realized. She could feel the heat and power of his body so close to hers in the nippy December air. “Have you checked the online FBI’s most wanted list lately? I mean, I might be up there one day...”
“Unlikely,” he said, his voice deepening as his blond head bent and his lips brushed her forehead. “You’re not a lost cause. Ask my mother. She’s becoming your biggest fan.”
“Yes, but I’m... I’m a felon,” she said. Breathing was getting harder by the minute. And she was beginning to ache all over. Unusual, scary feelings.
