“Yes.”
“Did the teenager in question give birth there too?”
“Yes.”
He shifted his weight, an ominous sign which could mean any number of unpleasant things. “Does this cowboy have a name?”
She craned her head in order to look at his brooding features.
“I think he probably made it up so Terrie would never know who he really was for fear she’d try to trace him.”
“Out with it, Ms. Arnold.” He’d come to the end of his tolerance for what had turned out to be a fencing match. In truth she was tired of dancing around the subject too.
“If I tell you, and you recognize it, you have to promise me you won’t reveal it to anyone else-” she cried, then moaned inwardly, wishing she hadn’t sounded like she was begging.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to protect him?” came the silky question.
Her jaw clenched. “I have no love for this man, believe me. But even he has rights I have to honor.”
He studied her as if she were a paradox. “In that case, why bother to look him up at all?”
“Because I promised Terrie I would. All she wanted was for him to know he had a daughter. What he does with that information is up to him.” Catherine had no doubts he’d do nothing with it. That was what she was counting on. “It’s no one else’s business.”
“What about you?” he questioned.
“I don’t under stand,” she dissembled, vying for time, though she didn’t know why because no one was going to come and rescue her from this precarious dilemma.
“Let’s not play games.” His lips broke into a for bid ding curl. “In my gut I know there’s a lot more at stake here than your being the simple bearer of this kind of news.”
Catherine couldn’t afford to lose her cool now. Not in front of this all-seeing, all-knowing watchdog who was sounding much more like a chief prosecutor. She needed to stay calm and collected, like the professional she purported to be.
Filling her lungs with air, she said, “I’m here because of Bonnie.”
Though his expression didn’t change, a silver flash coming from those suspicious gray eyes indicated she’d hit some kind of nerve. “Bonnie…” he repeated quietly. For want of a more precise word, he sounded haunted.
“Yes. That’s the name Terrie gave her baby.”
After an almost eerie interim of silence his deep voice spoke again, this time in a gravelly tone. “And the father’s name?”
“I-it’s one of those nicknames that could belong to any number of men or their horses, especially those living in this part of the country.”
“I’m still waiting.” He was about to take the action he’d threatened. A small shiver ran down her spine. She was going to have to trust him.
“Terrie said he called himself…Buck.”
The second the name left her lips a daunting stillness pervaded the atmosphere. While she could feel the adrenaline driving the speed of her heart, her interrogator carefully shut the door, as if he’d come to some monumental decision.
But when he finally spoke through the open window, the last thing she’d expected to hear was, “Start your car, Ms. Arnold. You’re going back to Elko. I’ll be right behind you. When we reach the first exit, follow me into town.”
So he did know Buck and had decided to take her to him.
Catherine experienced a moment of triumph to realize she’d be able to fulfill one of Terrie’s dying wishes. For herself she’d been waiting months to confront the amoral male who’d taken advantage of Terrie’s youth and naïveté, then discarded her so cruelly, never worrying if there’d be consequences.
“I’ll see you there, then,” she responded quietly.
With a mixed sense of anxiety and anticipation over what she would learn, Catherine turned on the motor, willing to cooperate with this enigmatic man who held the keys to Buck’s whereabouts.
Once she’d made contact, and had satisfied herself he couldn’t care less how many children he might have spawned in his selfish need for gratification, she’d be able to carry out Terrie’s other wish.
A wish that had become Catherine’s raison d’être.
Evening had come to the Rubies, prompting Cole to turn on his headlights. The woman at the wheel in front of his power wagon drove at a fast clip, forcing him to concentrate while he made a couple of phone calls, the last one being to his brother.
“John? Hold down the fort, will you? I’m on my way to Elko to take care of some important business.”
“I saw you leave a little while ago. Anything I can do to help?”
Cole’s thirty-two-year-old married brother was a rock he could always lean on in an emergency. They’d shared pretty much everything in life, but not this time. Not until Cole knew if their little brother had truly fathered a child.
“I’ll tell you about it later.”
He could hear the question John didn’t ask. That was what made him the good man he was.
“When will you be back?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Fair enough. Brenda’s waiting for you. She’s going to be disappointed when I tell her business called you away.”
Business, hell-
Cole rubbed his jaw. Brenda was attractive, and he enjoyed her company, but that was all. Unfortunately she wanted more. This was as good a time as any to end it with her. She would have to under stand he needed his space to mourn Buck. If she didn’t, then he couldn’t do anything about it. Catherine Arnold’s bombshell had blown him from the path where he’d been letting his life drift. But no longer.
“I’ll call her later.” He rang off, his thoughts already concentrated on the female who’d managed to get beneath his skin long before he’d learned her visit had anything to do with Buck.
When she took the first turnoff, he sped ahead of her and drove on to the Midas Inn, located in the center of town. Pulling around the side to a private entrance, he jumped down from the cab to help her from the car she’d parked along side his truck.
Her long, elegant legs distracted him as she got out of the car. “Is this where we’re meeting Buck?”
“No.” With that one word he’d extinguished the hope in those fabulous blue eyes. “We need to talk. The Midas is one of the ranch owner’s investments,” he explained, aware of her questioning glance as he pulled her over night bag from the backseat. “I phoned ahead to arrange a room for you. If you made a reservation somewhere else, let me know and I’ll cancel it.”
“It’s at the Ruby Inn.”
“In your own name?”
“Yes,” she answered tentatively. “Why do you ask?”
“You come off sounding like you might be an attorney. If so, you could have made your reservation in the name of the firm you work for.”
“I’m a social worker at a facility for young single mothers, but I’m not here in an official capacity. My reason for coming is strictly personal, if it’s any comfort.”
It wasn’t.
Buck had shown poor judgment in a lot of cases-but getting involved with an underage girl while he’d been working on their uncle’s stud farm outside Reno last summer?
“Maybe that explains why you exhibit the instincts of a clever PI.”
“Not that clever, apparently, but I’m not going to complain if it means you can lead me to Bonnie’s biological father.”
He ushered her inside the building as far as the door of the manager’s office. “Follow this hallway to the front desk and give the night clerk your name. He’ll take care of you. After you’ve freshened up, meet me in here.”