Lonestar Secrets (11 page)

Wally closed the door behind them and motioned for Jack to have a seat. "You said it was urgent."

"It is." The black leather chair swallowed Jack's bulk, and he struggled to sit more upright.

Wally put his boots on his desk. "So shoot. What's got you showing your fangs?"

Jack told him about the baby switch. The more he explained what his aunt had done, the longer Wally's face grew. "So what are my chances of keeping my daughter?" Jack asked with a trace of desperation.

Wally's long fingers twirled his mustache. Jack could almost imagine him as a gunslinger from the 1800s planning his next gunfight. Wally would never be a decent poker player, and Jack knew before Wally spoke that the news wouldn't be good.

Wally put his feet back on the floor and leaned forward. "This is deep water, my friend. We might have had a better chance if the nurse had been a stranger and was acting out of the goodness of her heart. But she's Blair's aunt. She had a personal interest in it. It would appear that you might have even had a hand in it as well."

"I didn't. I had no clue!" Even though Jack had been expecting this news, his gorge rose. He couldn't lose his daughter.

Two days ago his life had been good. Faith was happy and healthy, and although Jack missed Blair, he'd been content to watch their baby girl grow. His horse ranch business was good, and he had a place of respect in the community, a church home, friends around for support. He could sense a major shift happening in his life, feel the shimmy beginning like the tremors before a major earthquake.

He curled his fingers into his palms. "What can I do?"

"Get her to settle this out of court if you want to continue to see your daughter. Maybe some kind of joint custody would appease the woman. Is she a good mother?"

Jack thought of the way her face lit up when she talked about Kylie. Of the sacrifice she was willing to make for her daughter. Of the pain in her face when the foal had been stillborn earlier. "I think so. She's put herself through school and still managed to provide for her daughter, who seems happy and well adjusted."

Wally nodded. "Good. If she loves her kids, she'll want what's best for Faith. That's the best shot you've got."

Jack rose and shook the attorney's hand. "Thanks, Wally. I'll see what I can do." He went back down the carpeted hallway and outside under the stars. His legs barely supported him, but he made it to his truck. He slammed the door behind him and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. His stomach heaved.

Sharing custody wasn't an option. He looked forward to seeing Faith every day, to tucking her into bed at night after a story. He loved taking her riding out over the desert and teaching her survival lessons. She brought purpose and joy to his life, and he knew she would be devastated at being wrenched from his arms. He often saw the problems divorced friends endured and how their children suffered from the conflict. He couldn't put Faith through that.

Which meant he had to put his head on the chopping block.

SHANNON HAD NEVER BEEN SO GLAD TO GET HOME. IT WAS ONLY NINE thirty, but it felt like midnight at least. She warmed up a bowl of soup, then tore into the house. By the time she cleaned what would be her office, her initial burst of energy was gone and it was eleven. She went to get a coke from the fridge and glanced out the window. There he was. Jewel stood as if waiting for her by the barn. Just the medicine she needed after such a stressful day. Shannon's smile was so wide it almost hurt as she ran to the horse. "Jewel," she called.

The black coat glistened. Jewel snorted and tossed his head, then stepped out to meet her. Power radiated from the massive stallion. The muscles along his withers rippled. Age hadn't stolen his strength or the clear light in his eyes.

Shannon stepped closer, a bit unsure of herself when so close to those massive hooves and hard teeth. What if he had forgotten her? But no, he dropped his head and stepped closer. She threw her arms around his neck and breathed in the good scent of horse. His soft lips nuzzled her hair and neck, and he snuffled loudly in her ear.

She ran her fingers over the white hair of his freeze brand. "I'd forgotten how beautiful you are," she whispered. "And how big"

The sun was down, but the stars made a carpet of light in the sky. The thought of racing over the desert on jewel's back tempted her beyond resistance. She wrapped her hand in his mane and vaulted onto the horse's back. He bucked a little and she held on tightly. Maybe she'd have to get off. He hadn't been ridden since she left here. But he settled down and turned to trot into the desert. The blackness of the night made her heart tattoo against her ribs. She'd gotten used to city lights and sounds, and the velvet night made her wonder what hid in the hills watching them.

Jewel took off as if she'd told him where to go. She couldn't see the canyon in the dark, but Shannon knew it loomed nearer with every fall of jewel's hooves. "Whoa, boy," she said, her voice as loud as the coyote yipping for attention over the next hill. She shouldn't have come out at night. Even jewel might not be that surefooted with her on his back.

Jewel stopped, and Shannon sat on his back gazing up at the rock formation ahead. Her parents were buried up there, along with more Spanish treasure than she could fathom. And a fabulous sword inlaid with emeralds that hadn't seen the light of day in over four hundred years. She made a mental note to come back in the daylight, make sure the site hadn't been disturbed. No one knew where it was but her, and she planned to keep her parents' secret.

A red glare lit the night to their north. The wildfires were still burning out of control, and the horse shifted uneasily. Shannon studied the glow. Wasn't that awfully close to the Millers' ranch? She decided to ride closer and see if she could gauge the blaze's distance.

Jewel snorted and pranced in his tracks when she turned his face toward the fire, but he finally acquiesced to obeying her. "Good boy," she murmured, patting his neck. She clung to his back as he picked his way through the rocks and shrubs, eventually reaching a narrow path covered with a thin layer of dirt.

As she neared, she saw tongues of flame leaping from bush to bush. The roar of the fire made jewel snort and rear. The wind brought the thick smoke swirling around Shannon's head. The fire had nearly reached the Millers' barn. Men shouted and ran in the surreal glow of the flames and the drifting ash.

Something in the sky caught her attention. Smokejumpers? She stared, transfixed at the sight. Parachutes billowed out and drifted down toward the ranch. The hum of a plane overhead caught her attention, and she saw more jumpers leap into the night air.

Shannon had to help. She dismounted. "Go, boy," she said, slapping the horse on the rump. Jewel leaped away, and she saw him disappear over the rocky hillside. She ran toward the ranch.

ASH AND SOOT COATED JACK'S THROAT AND TONGUE. WHEN THE CALL HAD come in, he left Faith with Enrica and drove here like a madman, then immediately began to kick dirt onto the flames. The heat baked his face and cracked his lips.

The smokejumpers were directing the volunteers from the surrounding ranches in how to fight the fire. A low-flying plane buzzed overhead, dropping water on the inferno racing toward them.

"Here." A tall smokejumper with dark eyes peering out from under his helmet handed Jack a shovel. He turned and pointed behind them. "We're putting out our line of defense there. Dig up the vegetation. If the fire has no food, it'll die out."

Jack nodded and jogged back to where other men and women were tearing at the shrubs and digging up the weeds. It was going to be a long night. He tore into the sod, but it was hard going. The desert sun had baked the soil into something that resembled fired brick. They needed more help.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure rushing toward him. Shannon here? Her wind-tossed hair caught the glow from the fire. She was dressed in jeans, boots, and a yellow shirt that was open at the neck.

"What are you doing here?" he asked when she reached him.

"I was out riding and saw the flames. What can I do?"

He wanted to tell her to get to safety but knew she wouldn't go. He thrust his shovel into her hands. "Dig. I'll get another shovel."

She nodded and began to work at the soil. He snagged another shovel and came back to find the smokejumper he'd met working alongside her. They worked in silence for about ten minutes until the firefighter stopped, took off his helmet, and wiped his forehead.

The man looked like he had Native American blood. Straight dark hair, square face, high cheekbones. And eyes that spoke of suffering. When he turned, Jack saw the right side of his face was horribly scarred by fire. He caught Jack staring and turned as though to make sure Jack got a good look at his disfigurement. Jack averted his stare.

Shannon paused and put her hand on the small of her back. "Do you do this every day?" she asked the smokejumper.

The smile he threw her twisted the scars on his cheek. "During fire season. It's early this year. When so much rain comes in the springtime, the desert heat turns the vegetation that grows tinder dry. I'm busy for months after a wet spring" The firefighter bent to his task again.

"Why aren't you at home?" Jack asked Shannon. "Where's Kylie?" He knew his voice held censure when Shannon squared her shoulders and glared at him.

"She's perfectly fine. Allie wanted to keep her overnight until I get the house ready. Besides, she and Betsy were having fun." She narrowed her eyes. "I hardly think that's any of your business."

He started to speak, then shut his mouth. She was right. He hadn't married her hadn't even agreed to marry her. He turned back to his work. The fire was moving closer. They'd managed to clear a path about four feet wide.

"It's not going to be wide enough to stop it," the firefighter said. "Tell the owners to evacuate."

Jack nodded and grabbed Shannon's hand. "Come with me. I'll need help persuading Harriet to leave."

Shannon fell into step beside him. "Why won't she go?"

"She was born here. Her great-grandfather built this place. She's eighty-five and as strong-willed as a bull. She won't believe even a fire could take her home from her."

"You think it's not going to be stopped?"

He gestured toward the flames flaring from bush to shrub. "Do you?" Her gaze swept the scene, and his did the same. The blaze was burning hotter than ever. It had just crossed the line of bare dirt they'd worked so hard to make.

"I guess not," she said.

THE TWO OF THEM MANAGED TO CONVINCE HARRIET TO LEAYE. OR RATHER, Shannon managed it somehow. Her crisp professional manner disarmed the older woman, who reluctantly agreed to go to the daughter's, just for tonight. When Jack loaded the last of Harriet's valuables into the back of her old pickup, he turned to thank Shannon and found her gone.

The scarred firefighter, his shoulders slumped, was walking this way with the rest of his crew, having been momentarily relieved by a shift in the wind. Jack blocked his path. "Any of you and your crew are welcome to spend the night at my house."

The man swiped a grimy hand against his sooty cheek. "The Bluebird Ranch is putting us up, but thanks for the offer."

"You see where the blonde lady went who was helping me?" Jack asked.

"She whistled for her horse and rode off that way." The firefighter pointed away from the fire toward Shannon's old ranch.

"Thanks. What's your name?"

"Buck. Buck Carter."

Jack put out his hand. "Jack MacGowan." The man had a strong grip, something Jack liked. He dropped his hand to his side. "Thanks again for the job you did here tonight."

"It's what I do. Most of the time."

"What do you do when you're not fighting fires?"

Buck shrugged. "I'm an outfitter in Arizona. Mogollon Rim coun try. Firefighters have been called from all over to fight the fires here, so I came to join the fun."

Jack hardly called it fun. "Like I said, my home is open if you ever need it." He clapped the man on the back and went to his truck. He should go home, but he was still high on adrenaline. He turned the truck toward Shannon's ranch. The decision couldn't be put off any longer.

In the desert with no streetlights and only his headlamps illuminating the landscape, the stars were brighter. Jack's eyes burned from fatigue and smoke, but his lips were tight with determination. He would do whatever was necessary to keep his daughter.

He turned into the unkempt lane that led to the old Astor homestead. Only one light shone out of a window. The porch light wasn't on, and not even a security light highlighted the barn and the yard. This wasn't a safe environment for Kylie and Shannon. He parked and strode to the door. The porch boards were spongy and weak under his boots. This place was going to take a lot of work to make it livable.

His fist fell on the rickety screen door. A dog began to bark from inside the house. At least she had some kind of protection. He banged the door again.

"Who's there?" Shannon's voice was sharp, but fear hovered under the confident tone.

He should have identified himself right away. She was bound to be afraid out here all alone. "Shannon, it's Jack."

"Jack." Her voice rose with relief.

He heard her fumble with the lock, then the door opened and she peeked out. Her long blonde hair lay loose. She was dressed in pink pajamas with a dog pattern. Her feet were bare.

"It's awfully late," she said.

"I know. Can I come in a minute?"

With obvious reluctance, she shoved open the screen door and stepped back. She held on to the dog's collar. The border collie was snarling and growling like he wanted to eat Jack alive. "Quiet, Moses," she commanded. "He's a friend. I think."

Jack held out his hand for the dog to sniff, then Moses licked his fingers. "Good dog," he said. He followed Shannon to the kitchen, an ancient room with old-fashioned linoleum, metal cabinets, and a chipped porcelain sink. She had guts to move into a house in this kind of shape.

"I just fixed some hot chocolate. You want some?"

"No thanks." He stood with his hands in his pockets. She smelled good even from here. She must have raced home and gotten a shower the minute she stepped in the house.