Double Play: Ambushed! / High-Caliber Cowboy

Or she could be lying, just as Kerrington had accused her, the scar from some other accident. Cash hated that he and Kerrington might ever agree on anything, but there was something about Molly Kilpatrick, something that warned him to be wary whether she was Jasmine—or a complete stranger.

When had he become so suspicious? He knew the answer to that one as he turned to look back at her. She had stopped at the top of the stairs and appeared to be studying an old photograph of the ranch.

“Is this your family’s ranch?” she asked.

The photograph was of the original homestead, the old hewn-log cabin, a herd of longhorns grazing in a meadow behind it.

“Yes.” And no, he thought. But the photo was the essence of the ranch, how it had all begun. If she was curious about what his family ranch was now worth…well then that was something else.

“It’s the Sundown Ranch. My great grandfather drove a herd of longhorns up from Texas to start it.”

She nodded as if she didn’t know what else to say and he saw that she seemed nervous.

“If you’d be more comfortable at the motel…”

She shook her head. “No, it’s just…” She waved a hand through the air and looked into his eyes. Hers were a warm Caribbean sea-green in the hall light, as inviting as a kiss. He remembered almost kissing her earlier with no small regret. “You don’t know me and yet you offered me a place to stay. I could be a total stranger.”

“Could be.” He smiled ruefully. For strictly personal, selfish reasons he wanted Jasmine to be alive. Didn’t want her disappearance hanging over him the rest of his life. He wanted her to remember everything. No matter who it hurt, himself included.

“I might not be the man you think I am,” he warned her.

She met his gaze. “Or me the woman you hope I am.”

“I’m not worried,” he said, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. “Are you?”

Slowly she returned his smile and shook her head. “No. I know it’s the safest place for me to be right now.”

Or so she thought, he mused. “Your room is right down here.”

He led her to the door of the master bedroom and opened it. It was a large, bright room. Fortunately, the house had come with some furniture. The high, white iron bed frame was one of the pieces.

When the house was built, the room was wallpapered in a tiny flower print of yellows, greens, blues and pinks. The print had faded some but was still intact. This room had always seemed too large, as if it demanded double occupancy. That’s why he’d opted for a smaller bedroom down the hall. He kept this one made up for the times Dusty or one of his brothers stayed over.

“There’s a large bath in here,” he said, stepping past her to push open the door.

She let out a cry of delight at the sight of the huge claw-foot bathtub.

“I guess it was made special, that’s why it’s so large.” Large enough for two, he thought ruefully.

“I love it,” she said as if she could see herself sunk in the tub.

He had to smile. “So does my sister. She left an assortment of bubble bath. Help yourself.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze came back to him. Her smile was shy, uncertain, her mouth turning up a little higher on one side. He didn’t remember Jasmine ever smiling like that, but he’d forgotten so much…. And some things he would never forget.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he put down her suitcase. “If you need anything just let me know.”

He hurried out of the bedroom, the large room suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

Who had he invited to stay with him?

“Come down when you’re ready,” he called back. “I’ll just heat us up some dinner.”

By this time tomorrow, he should know. Twenty-four hours. And every moment of it he would be looking for Jasmine in this woman. And waiting. Waiting to find out the real reason she had come to him.

Atlanta, Georgia

THE WOLFE COMPANY JET was winging its way across the Midwest when Bernard got the call.

He checked caller ID and felt his pulse jump. Stay calm. He’d recognized the name on the caller ID. Patty Franklin, Jasmine’s former roommate. Seemed she hadn’t married. Or if she had, she’d kept her maiden name.

He took a breath, not wanting her to hear anything in his voice that might give him away. “Wolfe here.”

“Bernard?” Patty sounded tentative. She always sounded tentative. Didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out why Jasmine had befriended her. Can you say doormat?

“Yes?” He pretended he didn’t recognize her voice. Hell, it had been almost seven years since he’d heard from her. He wondered how she’d gotten his cell-phone number.

“It’s Patty. Patty Franklin?” she said. “Your sister’s former roommate?”

“Patty.” He tried to make that one word say, “Why are you bothering me after all this time?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Jasmine’s car being found,” Patty said.

The story he’d found out had gone national. Everyone had heard. “Of course.”

“I’ve been so upset. Is there any more news?”

No, and there is no more money to keep your mouth shut either. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said. “I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do. I’ve never forgotten her. She really was one of a kind.” He couldn’t argue that. “I guess you’re coming to Montana.”

Patty just happened to still be in Montana? He waited for her to make her pitch for more money and said nothing. Force her to ask this time.

“I know how hard this must be for you,” she said hesitantly. “I should let you go. I just wanted to say how sorry I am and how much I appreciated your kindness when we lost Jasmine.”

“Thank you for calling, but I have to keep the line open in case there is any news,” he said and disconnected, turning off his cell phone just in case she called back and wanted another fifty thousand in kindness.

And what was that about “when we lost Jasmine”? Patty hadn’t meant anything to Jasmine and she sure as hell meant nothing to him. Why had she called?

He wondered if he’d made a mistake by not offering her more money. She’d never really blackmailed him. At least not outright. She’d just made a point of mentioning how she would never tell the police anything that might make him look guilty because she knew he couldn’t hurt Jasmine. And the next thing he knew he was paying for her college education. Jasmine would have liked that, he’d told Patty and she’d cried and agreed. What a dummy he’d been.

HE SWORE NOW AND LOOKED at his watch. He couldn’t wait to get to Montana and get this over with. He tried to forget Patty. He hadn’t heard from her in seven years, so maybe her call had been just what she’d said it was.

Maybe by the time he got to Montana, Jasmine’s body would have been found and he could finally put Jasmine to rest.

“Amen,” he said, but Patty’s phone call was still bothering him. He contemplated how far he’d go to get rid of her if she tried to extort him again. One thing was certain. He wasn’t giving her another cent.

Antelope Flats, Montana