Jessica would mostly have the house to herself and would have to find her own amusements.
Fine by her.
Clyde Fortune, the first-born of the triplets, was to pick her up. He was the least outgoing of the three. The brothers were identical triplets, all with dark hair and chocolate-brown eyes, around six feet tall, muscular bodies.
The last-born, Miles, had a dimple in one cheek, though, so maybe they weren’t identical. She didn’t know much about genetics, so she wasn’t sure. Anyway, they looked like the proverbial peas in the pod. As a teenager, she’d had a crush on Clyde, the quiet one of the Fortune triplets.
Not that he, an older man, had known she existed.
She’d gotten over her romantic feelings quick enough when one of them had remarked that “she was so skinny and talked with such a twang, you could use her for a guitar string” when one of their friend’s strings had broken.
Amusement eased the pain of that ancient insult. Her lean frame had earned her a fortune of her own—not in the form of a living dreamboat, but in cold cash.
At that instant, the plane touched down. Jessica thanked the heavens that they were safely on the ground. She collected her carry-on bag and all-purpose raincoat and headed for the baggage carousel.
She didn’t see anyone she recognized. Several men looked her over, but none came forward. Apparently no one was waiting for her.
Wonderful, she thought, feeling like unwanted baggage. She grabbed her suitcase when it came around the moving belt, then rolled it closer to the door, not sure if her ride expected her to go outside and wait at the curb. She should have asked Violet to be more specific about what she was supposed to do.
The oddest thing happened then. Her eyes filled with tears. Astonished, she blinked rapidly until they dried up.
Thirty minutes later, she was still standing by the sliding glass doors, watching as other passengers were met by their loved ones and hugged and kissed and made to feel wanted while she wondered what to do if Clyde didn’t show.
She could take a room in San Antonio under an assumed name and hide out there just as well as the Flying Aces—
“Jessica?”
She jerked around and stared into a worried face and dark eyes with a scowl in their depths. “Yes.”
“Sorry to be late. There was an accident on the highway. It took thirty minutes for the police to get it cleared and let the traffic through.”
“That’s okay. I was just thinking of getting a room in town. Actually I could stay here just as well as at your place. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the Alamo.”
“Violet would never let me hear the end of it if I let you do that.” Clyde plucked her two cases from her. “This way.”
Although he did manage to crack a smile, Jessica wasn’t fooled. He was about as happy to see her as she was happy to be there. She silently said a word her mom had said she and her sister were never to use.
He led the way to his truck.
The rain hit them like bullets from the angry clouds that covered the city. She had her raincoat, which had a hood, but he wore only a light jacket. Water ran in a cascade from his gray felt cowboy hat.
His jeans were soon soaked along the entire front of the legs as the wind blew furiously against them as if trying to stop their progress. Her feet, clad in low sandals, got wet, and the cuffs of her summer slacks filled with water and wilted.
When they reached the parking space far out in the lot, he tossed her bags in the back of the crew cab pickup and her into the front. Not literally, but she had a feeling he would have liked to dispose of her as easily as the luggage.
It wasn’t an auspicious start to a month-long visit, she thought.
“I’m sorry to bring you out in such weather,” she said, giving him one of the brilliant smiles she was known for.
He shrugged and growled in a low tone, “We don’t usually have this kind of storm in September.”
Actually it was the second day of the month. A Friday. Two days ago, she’d finished the photo session and celebrated by hiding out at Violet’s place so she wouldn’t have to listen to the ringing of the phone every hour on the hour.
Worse—and this was what drove her into fleeing the city—was returning from her walk on Monday and finding a pale pink rose lying in the middle of her foyer. On Tuesday, a deep pink rose had been left on the sofa table. Then on Wednesday one had been placed on her pillow with all its bloodred petals torn off. Each petal had been cut in half. A police investigation had yielded no clues.
Shaken, she’d called Violet and told her friend she would love to visit the ranch for a month. They’d planned an elaborate strategy to get her packed and onto the San Antonio flight, via a separate ticket into Chicago for the first leg of the trip, with the help of a model friend.
Linda was close to Jessica in size, and had taken her place on the daily walk in the park, wearing sunglasses and a denim hat and Jessica’s favorite sports outfit, just in case the stalker was watching her condo.
Glancing at her host now, Jessica wondered if it might not be worse to be trapped for a month at a remote ranch—well, two miles from town wasn’t exactly remote—with a handsome but brooding Heathcliff type as her protector.
Was it better to face the evil she knew than to flee to another that she didn’t? Ah, that was the question, she intoned sardonically to herself.
“Something amusing you?” Clyde asked.
She strangled the facetious smile and gave him a solemn stare. “No. I was just feeling sorry for you, being stuck with an unwanted guest for a month.”
His frown could have stopped the eighteen-wheeler, coming toward them down the state highway at seventy miles an hour.
“Violet did explain that we’re in the middle of roundup, didn’t she?”
“Yes. You don’t have to worry about entertaining me,” she said graciously. The effort was wasted on him.
“Good,” he said in his serious manner. “No one will have time to do any entertaining. You’ll have the house to yourself during the day. I’ll be in late most nights. Miles will be out in the hills and will sleep in the RV we keep for times when we can’t get back to the house.”
“I see. Uh, do you have a cook or housekeeper?”
“No. A woman from Red Rock comes in every Monday, to clean. Miles and I fix our own meals. Mostly eggs and toast or sandwiches,” he added.
“I don’t eat a lot,” she quickly told him, making it clear she didn’t expect him to wait on her.
His gaze ran down her like the sluice of cold rain hitting the windshield. In that one glance she felt he’d seen everything there was to see about her, both physically and mentally. It was rather daunting.
She gazed out at the land she hadn’t seen in almost two years. Mmm… Yes, the last time she’d visited her folks, who lived in Austin now, had been two Christmases ago.
Her sister, brother-in-law and two nieces lived in Red Rock. They ran the hardware store Jessica had bought with her first year’s earnings so her dad wouldn’t lose his livelihood.
Since she figured Roy might somehow have her family watched, she was going to have to avoid them.
Also, she realized, she would have to hide in the barn or somewhere when the housekeeper arrived, in case the woman was someone who knew her or