Authors: Karen Rose Smith
Heartfire (28 page)
"I like the fact that you put his family history before his work."
"Would it make you feel better if I told you I baby-sit for Nathan? I did before he married Gillian and I do now. Their kids call me Uncle Linc."
She laughed. "Maybe I should talk to
them
."
He laughed, too, and glanced at her again. Something intangible passed between them that she seemed to feel in her heart. How crazy was that?
Fifteen minutes later, Linc turned off the highway and took a series of turns. After he drove down a long drive, they exited the car and Emma looked around.
A one-story house sprawled before her and she could see the ocean beyond. "What a beautiful setting," she murmured.
"I like it. It's worth the commute. We're alone here. If you prefer to walk the beach instead of going inside, I'll understand."
Alone with Linc Granger. Maybe she should have trepidations about that, but she didn't. She felt excited. Because they were going to talk about a way to find her sister? Or because he was one very sexy man?
Because he was going to give her information to find a way to find Paige, of course.
"I'll shed my shoes and we can walk the beach," she decided, taking the safer route.
"Give me five minutes to get comfortable and then we'll walk. There's a deck around back. Would you like something to drink?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Be right back."
Emma found cushy chairs and chaises on his deck, but she was too fidgety to sit. Instead, she stood at the railing, looking out at the ocean, wondering if her sister was still alive and if she was,
where
she was. She'd spent so many hours while Paige had been gone thinking about that—praying, hoping and trying to stay positive. But how could she when such dark visions invaded the others? Paige's car wasn't worth the bald tires it had been running on, so no one would have wanted to hijack her car. Had she had engine trouble again, left the vehicle and started walking? Had someone picked her up and then—
There were those dark thoughts that Emma didn't want to have, but knew she had to be realistic about.
When Linc emerged from the house he wore a blue polo shirt and denim cutoffs. His feet were bare.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready to find my sister," she agreed.
She kept her shoes on until they reached the bottom of the wooden steps where grass and sand began. Then she took them off and laid them on the step. Seagrass tickled her legs as they made their way across the sand to the packed beach.
As they walked along the shore, the wind tossing their hair, Linc asked, "Do you believe in things you can't see?"
Her gaze met his. "You mean religion?"
He blew out a breath. "No, that's not what I mean. I'm just going to lay this all out," he said. "If you want to walk back to my house, get in the car and go home, that's fine. But I felt this was an option you should consider."
"You're not talking about a private investigator, are you?" The spray from the ocean misted them as they left their footprints on the shoreline.
"Sort of."
"Linc, I can't afford one. I hired someone the first week after Paige disappeared. But he couldn't find anything and I couldn't afford to have him go on looking. When Barrett died, he didn't have life insurance. It was one of those things he kept putting off doing. Thank goodness I had my business, but with insurance costs and the mortgage, I don't have much left over each month."
Linc stopped and took her arm. Again his touch made her tummy somersault and her pulse race. But she had to focus on what they were discussing, not her reactions to him.
"Emma, this isn't about money. It's about a gift my best friend's wife has. Nathan's wife, Gillian, works with another friend of mine, Jake Donovan. Jake used to be a cop. Then he turned to private investigation. But after he met Gillian, his life changed. For the most part he and Gillian find missing persons, especially lost children. They started a foundation for this purpose. People they've helped have donated a lot of money. Funds just seem to stream in because it's a good cause."
"So Nathan's wife, Gillian, is a private investigator, too?"
"No, she's not. Nathan found Gillian through Jake as a last-ditch effort when his ex-wife disappeared with his daughters. Gillian found them for him. She has a gift. Some people would label her a psychic. She doesn't think of herself that way. She just seems to be able to tune in to missing persons. She gets sensations and feelings and in themselves they're not enough. But when family members are questioned, or Jake does research tracking down information Gillian gets, they've got a 99% success rate."
Emma was astonished by what Linc was telling her. He was a rational businessman and yet he obviously believed in what he called Gillian's gift.
"Let's walk some more," she said to Linc, pulling her arm from his clasp because she couldn't think straight with his hand on her skin.
Silent as they walked, he glanced at her every now and then. She could feel that glance, feel his concern and compassion for her.
Finally she said, "My dad left after Paige was born. We never heard from him again. My mom was really hurt by his abandonment. When she felt hurt, she went to church, taking us with her for the same comfort she found there until she died of breast cancer."
Linc stopped walking again. "I'm sorry."
She could see he wasn't just saying the words, he was sorry. And there was a deeper understanding in his expression that made her wonder about his background. "Thank you. The reason I'm telling you this is—before mom died, she took my hand and she made me promise that I would take care of Paige and if I ever had children that I would take them to church. She thought everyone needed to believe in something outside of themselves, just like she did and just like Paige and I did."
"Do you take Becky to church?"
"I do most weeks. She attends Sunday School while I go to the service. So what I'm trying to say is that I believe in something outside of myself." She looked toward the ocean and waved her hand. "I believe in the power behind this."
Facing him again, she requested, "So tell me more about Gillian."
"The way I understand it, when she was ten she was hit by lightning. It was after that the sensations started to come to her. She's a caring person. She loves her husband and son, and Nathan's daughters accept her as a second mom."
"And she teamed up with a former cop."
"Jake had heard about her, looked into her success rate and then recommended her to Nathan. After she found Nathan's daughters, Jake was a believer."
"Are you sure there's no fee, Linc? I can make a donation, but I don't know how much."
"They don't charge."
"But you've donated to this foundation," she guessed.
"I have. I believe in the work they do."
Emma stared at the sun beginning to set, the sky shot through with pink and orange. She thought about Paige and the empty car and dark nights when she couldn't sleep wondering where her sister was, crying because she was afraid Paige had been hurt, crying because she was afraid she was dead.
"Let's walk back," she said, needing to think about all of this.
Linc didn't initiate conversation as they walked, as gulls screeched, as waves pounded the shore. The tide was coming in, creating puddles in the sand that she was barely aware of as she sloshed through them. Linc stayed by her side, walked where she walked, a force to be reckoned with himself.
She would have kept walking, but Linc tapped her shoulder and pointed to his house across the expanse of loose sand and grass. When they reached the steps, she wiped the sand from her feet and slipped them into her shoes. He let her precede him.
Once they were standing on the deck, she made a decision. The ocean wasn't as loud up here but it still carried a resonant voice, a pounding that was a backdrop.
When she turned to face Linc, for a few moments the sound of the ocean faded away. The brush of the breeze on her face hardly registered because she got lost in his green eyes. But then she remembered why she was here, at his house on the beach.
Her voice was loud and clear above the sound of the surf. "I'd like to meet Gillian."
Excerpt from ALWAYS HER COWBOY:
Chapter One
When Lucy McIntyre heard the roar of a motorcycle breaking the solitude of the Rising Star Ranch, she went to the kitchen window and pushed back the lace curtain with its ivy pattern. The man on the Harley brought the machine to a halt at the path to the house. She watched him climb off, hang his helmet on the handlebar, and stand with his hands jammed into the back pockets of his jeans as he studied the barn, corrals, indoor arena, and outbuildings. Then his attention turned toward the porch that wound around the house. Although she'd expected someone by the name of Zackary Burke to apply for the job of temporary hand, she'd never expected him to look like this!
He wore boots and jeans, typical attire for men living in and around Long Brush, Wyoming. But the black leather jacket and the motorcycle told her he was from another place. His midnight hair—thick, wavy and unruly—needed a trim. He stood over six feet. She could tell even from here. With his broad shoulders and slim hips, all he needed was a Stetson and a horse to make him look as if he belonged.
Lucy didn't think she moved, but the man's eyes met hers through the window. Caught, embarrassed and mesmerized by something in the man's demeanor and gaze, every question she'd prepared for their interview vanished from her head.
Without any warning, he winked, gave her half a smile and started up the walk.
Flustered and determined not to be, Lucy crossed the kitchen, willing the heat in her cheeks to subside. But when she opened the door, the man was even taller and more powerfully masculine than he'd looked twenty feet away! The curiosity and male appraisal as his blue eyes drifted from her long brown hair to her boots brought even more heat to her cheeks and a dryness to her throat.
The man extended his hand. "Zack Burke. I saw the job notice at the feed store in Long Brush and talked with Tom McIntyre about it at the day before yesterday."
Lucy shook his hand, surprised by the heat of his skin, its rough texture and the sparks that zipped up her arm. "Tom McIntyre is my father." A McIntyre by name rather than birth, it had never seemed to matter because she'd never doubted that her adoptive parents loved her or that her older brothers accepted her. Always grateful for that love and acceptance, she knew without it, her life might have been much different.
"Is your father around?" Zack Burke asked with a lift of a black brow.
"Dad and my brother are mending fence. I'm going to talk with you a little more to see if we should hire you. This is a family-run ranch so family is involved in everything." She motioned toward the kitchen table.
