Love Finds You in Valentine, Nebraska Page 18

  “I told you when we first met that I’d been seeing someone for a couple of years and that he wants to marry me. I was supposed to let him know my answer when he returned from Europe.”

  She was staring straight ahead, but she was conscious that his piercing eyes were watching her. “So?”

  “I had some e-mail messages from him yesterday,” Kennedy explained, “and he reminded me that he was expecting an answer when he came home. I already knew the answer, and I couldn’t see any reason to delay.”

  The silence in the truck was deafening. Derek stopped, turned off the lights, and waited.

  “I answered that I wouldn’t marry him at all.”

  “Why did you do that?” Derek asked, sounding surprised.

  Kennedy’s heart shouted, “Because I love you!” But her lips said, “I’ve never felt anything more than friendship for him, and there has to be something more than that before I marry anyone. He’s a good man, with a family background similar to mine, and I hope he’ll remain a friend. But I don’t love him. It wouldn’t be fair to him, and I’d be miserable.”

  Without speaking, Derek moved closer and pulled her roughly into the circle of his arms. Kennedy’s heart danced with excitement when he leaned to kiss her, and she raised her lips to meet his. She didn’t know how long the embrace lasted, but when he lifted his head, she breathed deeply, enjoying the feel of his arms around her.

  Derek moved away from her and leaned his head on the steering wheel. She touched his shoulder, and he said, “Don’t!” He took several deep breaths, obviously trying to control his impulses.

  After a few tense moments, he continued, “I’ve tried so hard to keep this from happening, but it did, so we have to go on from here. In spite of what we’re feeling tonight, it doesn’t change anything I said a few hours ago.”

  “Not even if I think you’re wrong?” Kennedy whispered.

  He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “This has happened too fast. I’ve got to protect you from yourself. Maybe if we wait a year or two and you still feel the same way, it might work. But as soon as you’re back in California, you’ll understand that this was only ‘a midsummer night’s dream.’ An interlude when you saw everything through rose-colored glasses before you decided to get on with your life.” She was somewhat surprised that Derek knew about Shakespeare’s works until she remembered that he was a college graduate. “Do you honestly believe that?” she asked softly.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Can we ever be happy after we’ve had a glimpse into paradise and wouldn’t go in?” she persisted.

  “I’m not expecting much happiness, Kennedy, but that’s the way it has to be.” In a resigned voice he added, “Don’t think this is easy for me.” She leaned over to kiss his hand that lay listlessly on the steering wheel. “I know,” she said. “I’ll have to live with it until you admit you’re wrong, but I won’t make it any harder for you.”

  When they reached ranch headquarters, he stopped to get Wilson. In the light from the dusk-to-dawn light, she noticed when he returned to the truck that his shoulders were stooped and his expression wistful but determined, as if he was guarding his emotions with unyielding restraint. She wished she could remove the pain from his eyes, but she knew there was nothing she could do.

  Miranda’s car was at Riverside, but Derek walked to the door with Kennedy. When they entered the hallway, Miranda called from upstairs, “Is that you, Kennedy?”

  “Yes. Derek just brought me home.”

  Derek walked out of the house without touching her. When Kennedy sat on the side of the bed, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed, Wilson ran to her and put his head on her knees. Without changing into her nightclothes Kennedy stretched out on the bed, not even objecting when Wilson cuddled up beside her.

  Derek got up the next morning feeling as if he’d aged perceptibly overnight. As he showered, shaved, and dressed, he actually wondered if he was crazy. What man in his right mind would refuse when Kennedy Blaine practically offered herself to him on a silver platter? Both of them had stopped short of saying the words, but their mutual love was so strong that their emotions were bouncing off the walls of his truck.

  Kennedy was a proud woman, and it wouldn’t have been easy for her to humble herself to let him know how she felt about him. He’d tried to discourage her, but he didn’t think it was a passing fancy with her. Surely after she went home she would realize that a relationship between them wouldn’t work.

  He didn’t think anything could make him feel worse, but while he was in the office completing his weekly reports on ranch activities, he had a phone call. The He didn’t think anything could make him feel worse, but while he was in the office completing his weekly reports on ranch activities, he had a phone call. The caller didn’t identify himself, but Derek recognized the voice.

  “Tonight! Same time!” Lazaro muttered. “Behind George’s Mule Barn.”

  George’s bar was in Valentine, but when Derek had received similar calls in Chicago, the bar had been Smiley’s Bar and Grill. The months he’d been active in a street gang had finally come back to haunt him. Derek still had nightmares about the time when Lazaro had been found guilty of murdering two policemen and he’d tried to implicate other members of his gang. The police had questioned Derek, but he had an airtight alibi because he had been out of town with his father that weekend. Lazaro had been indicted and sentenced to life imprisonment without mercy.

  Except for petty theft, Derek hadn’t been involved in any serious crimes during the six months he’d trailed the gang. Several years had passed, but he could still remember the face of the old lady, the victim of his first crime, when he’d snatched her purse. There was less than twenty dollars in the bag, probably all she had to live on. He’d tried to get out of the gang then, but Lazaro had threatened to harm his parents if he quit, so Derek continued with the gang rather than have his parents pay for his crimes.

  Most of the things he’d done had involved shoplifting, and he remembered every item he’d ever stolen. Some he’d shared with the gang, but the DVDs and other minor things that he’d taken for himself he’d thrown away before they left Chicago. If only he could dispose of the memories so easily.

  As soon as the authorities allowed him to leave Chicago, Derek’s parents had brought him to Nebraska, and during those thirteen years he’d hoped he’d put the past behind him. It wasn’t likely that Lazaro had been released, so he had probably escaped from prison. It would be extremely dangerous for Derek to meet Lazaro alone, but what choice did he have?

  A few times Derek had been tempted to tell Kennedy about his youthful indiscretions, and he wondered if he should have done so. If she knew about his past she probably wouldn’t have any trouble forgetting him, but he wouldn’t decide whether to tell her until after he’d met Lazaro.

  It was impossible for Derek to get his mind on the bookwork. He went into the house and told his mother that he wouldn’t be going to church with them today, went to the corral, saddled his favorite mount, and started riding. Would he ever be able to live down his past? Should he start over with a clean slate, as he’d tried to do when he came to Nebraska?

  He had been grateful to his parents for standing by him when they learned he’d been doing things they didn’t approve of. To make up for all the heartache he’d caused them, he’d worked hard to get good grades and excelled in sports because his dad had wanted him to. College had been a struggle for him, but again he’d made his parents proud.

  But the guilt was never erased. He had attended church regularly until he’d gone away to college. As Derek rode aimlessly around the ranch, he remembered the time he had gone forward in a worship service to accept Jesus as his Savior. He still remembered the pastor’s text that morning from Isaiah 1:18: “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (KJV).

  The preacher had said that wh
en a person turned his life over to God, He no longer remembered previous sins. The slate was wiped clean, and before God, that life was as white as snow. Derek recalled that the preacher had quoted a verse from the forty-third chapter of Isaiah, where God promised His people that when they repented, He would forget their sins and remember them no more.

  Derek believed it then and he still believed that God had forgiven and forgotten the sins he’d committed as a teenager. The big problem was that he couldn’t forget what he had done or forgive himself for causing his parents so much trouble. He didn’t intend to taint Kennedy’s life with his past, but now he was worried about what Lazaro might do to her.

  He had stopped going to church during his college years. Although he had hated to hurt his mother, he felt like a hypocrite when he sat in the church. He had often longed to share how he felt with someone, but he’d kept it all bottled up inside. Somehow he felt that if anyone could understand his spiritual burden, it would be Kennedy. But was it worth unburdening his soul to make himself feel better only to see the disillusionment in her eyes when she learned what kind of a person he really was?

  Derek stayed out on the range until late evening so he wouldn’t be tempted to go to Kennedy. When he reached home, he unsaddled his horse, went in the house, showered, and prepared to go into town.

  He made it a point to be late for his appointment with Lazaro. If he arrived early, the man would think he was nervous. He waited until almost nine o’clock before he left the ranch. He parked in a well-lighted spot, got out of the truck slowly, locked it behind him, and strolled into the alley behind George’s bar. His nerves were as taut as a bowstring.

  “God,” he prayed mentally, “I deserve anything Lazaro hands me, but keep him from taking vengeance on me by harming Mom.” Suddenly Kennedy’s face infiltrated his mind. Surely, his former accomplice wouldn’t have any reason to harm her—unless he was the one who’d been sending her messages. “Or Kennedy,” he added to his prayer.

  Derek leaned against the building to be sure Lazaro couldn’t step behind him. Only a glimmer of light from the street filtered into the alley, and he couldn’t see anyone. The waiting seemed endless, although it probably wasn’t more than five minutes before he sensed that someone was standing near him.

  “So you came,” a deep voice said.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “To find out why you’re in Valentine and what you want from me.”

  “Why, man, maybe I only wanted to see an old friend.”

  “All right, you’ve seen me, but I figure you’re after more than that. What is it?”

  “Money! What else?”

  “Then you’ve come to a poor source. I’m a cowhand—I work for a living and I don’t have any money. What are you doing out of prison?”

  “Maybe the cops found out that they’d made a mistake when they nailed me. Maybe they’re lookin’ for somebody else now. Not that it matters. I’m out of prison for good and I’m needin’ a stake to start a new life in South America. If you put fifty grand in my hands, you’ll never see me again.”

  “Fifty thousand! I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Yeah, but you can get it. There’s a lot of cattle on your ranch. You can sell some of them and grubstake me.”

  “I stopped stealing when I parted company with you. I won’t start now. Forget it, Lazaro. I don’t believe for a minute that you’ve been pardoned, so get out of town before I call the cops.”

  “You ought to know by now that I don’t scare easy.”

  Derek turned to leave, but Lazaro’s next words halted him in his tracks, and his nerves tensed immediately.

  “Your pretty boss has megabucks,” Lazaro said, and a warning hung on the edge of his words. “The rumor is that she’s hung up on you, man. Don’t you think she’d cough up some green stuff to keep you out of trouble?”

  Derek reached for him, but Lazaro jumped backward. “Don’t lay a hand on me,” he snarled. “You’ll hear from me again.” Lazaro took off at a run and soon disappeared into the gloom. Derek’s heart was hammering, and he gasped for breath. He didn’t know if he was capable of driving home. He’d never been in the bar, but he walked inside and ordered a cup of coffee. He slumped down in a booth to drink it, trying to figure out what to do next. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Lazaro would harm Kennedy if he didn’t do what the convict demanded.

  next. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Lazaro would harm Kennedy if he didn’t do what the convict demanded.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kennedy woke up when she heard Miranda stirring overhead, but she stayed in bed.

  Sometime during the night, she’d changed clothes, put Wilson on his leash, and gotten into bed. She had finally gotten to sleep, and now that she was awake, she didn’t have any inclination to get out of bed. Her eyes felt dry and swollen and her head was stuffy, and she didn’t want Miranda to see her in such a state.

  Wilson barked when Miranda tapped on her half-closed door. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yes, but I’m feeling lazy this morning. Lock the doors when you leave, please; I may take another nap.”

  “I made a pot of coffee, and there’s some left for you. See you tonight,” Miranda said.

  After she heard Miranda’s car leave, Kennedy turned on her left side, hoping to go to sleep again, but it was useless. After rolling from one side to the other for a half hour, she got up, showered, and dressed. She called June and, without giving any reason, told her that she wasn’t going to church. As keen as June was, if she saw Derek and Kennedy together, she would know that something had happened. If Kennedy didn’t go to church, perhaps Derek would come by this afternoon and they could deal practically with any future relationship. She refused to believe that they could separate in a few days or weeks and forget their feelings for one another. They had to have some relationship, even if it involved nothing more than discussing the affairs of the Circle Cross.

  But Derek didn’t call, nor did he stop by, and by evening Kennedy had almost lost her optimism that she and Derek could continue as friends and business partners.

  Sitting alone on the gazebo, longing for him to be with her, she came to terms with what she must do. Just because her dreams practically died yesterday didn’t mean that her life had ended. Derek may have been right in his assessment. Perhaps these weeks at the Circle Cross had been a summer interlude. When she went back to California, she would forget about Derek and continue the plans she’d made for the future before the death of her father.

  After another restless night, by Monday morning Kennedy had accepted facing the future without Derek. She had enough Morgan willpower in her genes that she was convinced she could do anything she set her mind to do. But that didn’t mean she would find any happiness in what she did. God had blessed her with good health, supportive parents, and no lack of money to do anything she wanted to do.

  However, none of those things could win Derek for her. And strangely enough, she felt no bitterness toward him because he’d rejected her. If anything, she loved him even more for his ideals. If the tables were turned and she had nothing to offer him, she wouldn’t have married him, either.

  The most important thing she could do for Derek was to make sure that the Circle Cross wouldn’t be sold away from him. The threats against her could be more than a hoax, more than an effort to drive her away from the ranch. If anything happened to her before the ranch was put on the National Register, she supposed her estate would go to her next of kin—and she suddenly realized that would be her grandfather, Gabriel Morgan. And as shrewd as he was, he would know that, too.

  Was she in danger from him?

  Stunned at the thought, Kennedy’s first consideration was for Derek rather than herself. She rushed to her grandfather’s desk in the living room where, spurred by anxiety, she wrote in longhand, “I, Kennedy Grace Blaine, being of sound mind and disposing memory, do hereby make, declare, acknowledge, and publish this as
my Last Will and Testament.” She named Elliott Talbot as the executor of her estate before she added all other preliminary information that needed to be included in a will.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she concluded, “I hereby give, devise, and bequeath to my friend, Derek Sterling, the Circle Cross Ranch located near Valentine, Nebraska, stipulating that all inheritance tax or closing costs pertinent to the transfer of the ranch to Mr. Sterling be paid out of my estate before the residue is distributed as follows.”

  After she had provided a sizable amount for Rosita, Kennedy divided the remainder of her assets between her church in Los Angeles, Tony’s church in Valentine, the Community Outreach Center in Omaha, and several charities that her parents had always supported.

  She signed her name and the date and sealed the will in an envelope, writing on the outside, “To be opened only in the event of my death.” Taking Wilson and his leash with her, she got into the car and drove to the Valentine post office located on South Hall Street. She’d promised Derek she’d be careful, and the dog was about all the security she had.

  Kennedy bought a Priority Mail one-day-service envelope, addressed it to her lawyer, and, with an inward sigh of satisfaction, shoved it into the outgoing mail slot.

  Thank You, God, for bringing that thought to my mind. I’ll rest easier knowing that Derek will have the ranch if these people who are harassing me should take my life.

  She went next to Robin Donovan’s office and waited about ten minutes before her cousin could see her. She told Robin that she wanted to start proceedings to place the Circle Cross on the National Register. She made an appointment to meet with Robin later in the week for help in filling out the application form and to receive pointers on how to research the house to see if it was eligible for the Register.

  Although she intended to wait on her attorney to initiate the embezzlement action, she drove by Smith’s office on West Third Street. Only his car and his secretary’s were in the parking lot, so she stopped. While she had been in Robin’s office, she’d left Wilson in the car with the windows slightly open, but it was getting warmer now and she took him inside with her.