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  Ren chuckled. “A determined man.”

  “One of the best people in law enforcement. His whole family’s on the wrong side of the law.”

  “Mikey.”

  Cash’s eyebrows arched.

  Ren shrugged. “I was a company commander in Iraq. Mikey was in my unit. So were Barton and Rogers.”

  “It’s a small world.”

  “Very.” Ren sipped coffee.

  “Did you hear that they picked up the truck driver in Houston this morning, and that he’s already dead?” Cash asked.

  Ren nodded. “Mikey told us.”

  “Somebody offed him in his own cell,” Cash said. “They think he was given something that caused an asthma attack. A doctor hit him with a syringe of epinephrine in his heart.”

  “He had a rhythm disorder.”

  “He did,” Cash remarked. “My secretary, Carson Farwalker’s wife, has asthma. Luckily she doesn’t have the rhythm problem. But I did learn what you don’t do for asthma if you do have a rhythm disorder.”

  “So the killer’s dead. I don’t suppose he knew anything that would help catch the real killer,” Ren continued. “We know who he’s after. And that he’ll probably be on his way back down here pretty soon.”

  “We have plenty of security,” Cash reminded him.

  Ren looked him in the eye. “So did JFK.”

  Cash sighed. “Well, it’s unfortunately true that if a man’s willing to trade his life for yours, there’s no surefire way to stop him.”

  “What we’re hoping is that he doesn’t want to trade his life for Meredith’s,” Ren replied. “If he was suicidal, he’d have died long before now.”

  “Good point.”

  Ren finished his burger and fries and his coffee. “I’m going back to the hospital, now that I have at least a change of clothing,” he said, laughing softly. “I didn’t even stop to pack a bag when I found out about Meredith’s accident.”

  “That will win you points with her people,” Cash said with a smile.

  “It did. Nice talking with you.”

  “I’ll be over later to see how she’s doing.”

  “I’ll tell them.”

  * * *

  REN TOOK HIS purchases back to Graylings and changed clothes before he went back into town to see Meredith.

  She looked up when he walked into her hospital room, smiling.

  “You look different.”

  “You’ve never seen me in casual clothes,” he replied, indicating his nicely tailored dark blue slacks and black turtleneck sweater under a casual jacket. He had the new creamy Stetson in one big hand.

  “You look very nice,” she said softly.

  He smiled, bending to her soft mouth. He brushed it tenderly with his. “I had a burger and fries and a long talk with the police chief and several strangers.”

  “You did?” she asked.

  He nodded. He tossed the Stetson into an unoccupied chair and sat down beside the bed in another, taking her hand in his. “Many people sent well-wishes. You’ll have to ask Grier who they were. I lost count.”

  She smiled. “I know everybody. Daddy never let us socialize, but since he died, I’ve spent a lot of time in town at the café.”

  “The owner’s very nice. She sends her greetings.”

  “Barbara,” she said, nodding. “Her son is a lieutenant in San Antonio PD.

  “Did Chief Grier tell you about the driver of the truck?” she asked.

  His eyebrows arched. “How do you know about it?”

  “Cousin Mikey came in to see me before he left for lunch. He thinks he has an idea, about how to spike the contract killer’s guns.”

  “Does he, now?” Ren asked. “What?”

  “He wouldn’t say. He says we can talk about it when I get home.” She made a face. “I guess that will take a few days, though.” She shifted restlessly. “I’m awfully sore.”

  “Injuries take time to heal,” he said softly. “But you’ll be better in no time. Meanwhile, you’re well protected here, and law enforcement will be on the lookout for any strangers who show up at the hospital.”

  “How about at home?” she worried.

  “Mikey took Rogers and Barton around and showed them where a sniper might set up shop. They’ve got the whole place covered like tar paper.”

  She drew a breath and grimaced. “Hurts to breathe a little,” she confessed.

  “Bruising,” he said. “You get that from blunt force trauma.”

  She studied him, curious.

  “You got thrown across the backseat, into the door, by the impact,” he explained. “It bruised your internal organs. That’s why they have you on antibiotics. They worry about pneumonia.”

  “Oh. I wondered about that.”

  He crossed his legs. “You’ll mend,” he said. He smiled at her. “The worst is behind you, Meredith. It gets better from now on.”

  “I hope so.” She hesitated. “Ren, have you heard anything about your mother?”

  He drew in a breath. “No. Randall said they don’t have the results from her biopsy yet.”

  “When they do, will you go, if she asks for you?” she asked.

  He looked troubled. He studied her soft hand in his before he spoke. “I’ve made some bad decisions in my life. You were the worst,” he said, his black eyes searching her gray ones. “But my mother was second worst. What she said about me hurt, a lot. But I should have stayed and talked it out. Pride shot me out the door.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “Least of all me, honey,” he said gently. He smiled at her, aware of the pleasure in her eyes at the endearment. “On the other hand, I was angry enough to found a ranching empire on spite alone. I wanted to make my father successful, show my mother what a big mistake she made in leaving him. I got rich. But money wasn’t enough.”

  “It never is,” she replied. “It’s nice to have it. But happiness doesn’t depend on it.”

  “I found that out the hard way.” He leaned forward. “The worst part of it was leaving my brother behind,” he said with a whimsical smile. “I loved Randall from the day he was born. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

  “He feels the same way about you.” She searched his eyes. “He was trying to protect me, telling you what he did, that I was...his.” She flushed. “It wasn’t true. He was never more than a friend. He never could be.”

  “I should have known that. All the signs were there.” He drew her palm to his mouth. “I was blind.”

  “You’d been hurt. You thought I was like her.”

  “Yes, to my cost.” He nipped her forefinger with his teeth. “You’re nothing like her. She was tinsel. You’re pure gold, Meredith.”

  She flushed. “Thanks.”

  “I like your sister,” he said. “She was ready to do battle with me on your behalf when I walked in. But when she realized what you meant to me, she was less antagonistic.”

  “What I...meant to you?” she fished.

  He drew in a breath. “Listen, I need to tell you...”

  She was hanging on every word when the door opened and Sari walked in, oblivious to what she’d interrupted.

  “Hi,” she said, going straight to the bedside. She smiled at Ren as she bent to kiss her sister’s forehead. “How’s it going?”

  Merrie was still trying to catch her breath, and regretting her sister’s bad timing. But she smiled anyway. “I’m better. Just sore.”

  Sari sighed. “I’ve been talking to Paul. He says his office tracked the hit man to San Antonio.”

  Merrie’s heart jumped. “Oh, dear.”

  “Now, don’t worry,” Sari said firmly, noting Ren’s loss of color, as well. “We’ve got people watching him. Besides that, Mikey�
�s been very busy on your behalf.”

  “What is he up to?” Merrie wanted to know.

  “You’ll find out as soon as we get you home,” Sari said. “I’ve made sure that you have plenty of art supplies. Brand Taylor sends his regards and hopes that you’ll be well soon.”

  “I bought him out,” Merrie told Ren, then felt guilty at his expression. He looked positively morose. “I’m going to hire a business manager,” she blurted out, and he brightened a little.

  Then she recalled what Sari had said. “Why do I need lots of art supplies, Sari?” she asked her sister.

  “Mikey’s on his way in,” Sari hedged. “He’ll tell you.”

  Ren gave her a curious glance. She looked guilty.

  He exchanged glances with Merrie and turned back to her sister.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  JUST AS REN was about to speak, the door opened and Mikey walked in. He glanced at all of them, and smiled.

  Merrie looked at him with a sheepish grin. “Hi, Cousin Mikey.”

  “Hey, baby doll,” he teased. “You feeling better?”

  “Lots, thanks. And thanks for sitting up with Mandy in the waiting room while I was in ICU, so she didn’t have to be alone, and everyone else could get some sleep.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “If I can ever do anything for you,” she began.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, actually, about that...”

  “What?” she prompted.

  He moved closer to the bed, eyeing Ren warily. “Somebody has to have told you that this guy, this cleaner, has a rep in the business for never missing, yeah?”

  She grimaced. “Yes.”

  “And that since he took the money, he feels obliged to do the hit.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I talked to some people I know, back home.” He hunched his shoulders. “In fact, I talked to the big boss.”

  Her eyes widened. She and Ren looked at him expectantly.

  “The big boss saw the painting you did of me. Remember, I told you how impressed he was with it?”

  “I remember,” she said.

  “The thing is, he really wants a painting done of himself. He says, that if you’ll paint him, he’ll take care of the cleaner for you.”

  Meredith’s face brightened. “He’ll call off the hit?” she asked, excited.

  “Something like that, yeah.”

  “I would love to paint him,” she said sincerely.

  Ren was less enthusiastic. “Meredith,” he cautioned her.

  She stopped him midthought. “Ren, we can’t watch every door, every window, every street. If he could even get on your ranch, and I know what kind of security you have, he could get anywhere.”

  “I know that,” Ren said heavily.

  “It’s just a painting.” She looked up at Mikey. “He, uh, doesn’t have any outstanding warrants in Texas, does he?” Her voice trailed off.

  Mikey chuckled. “No. Not in Texas.”

  “Paul will have a stroke,” Ren remarked.

  “He won’t. Not if it might save your life,” Mikey told Meredith. “There’s this nice client who wants his portrait painted. He saw your work in a gallery. He thinks you’re awesome. He wants you to paint him a picture to go over his mantel. How is that bad?”

  “When you put it that way, it isn’t,” Ren replied.

  “See? Nice. Paulie won’t mind.”

  “Dr. Coltrain says I can go home Friday,” Merrie began.

  “I’ll tell him,” he replied. “You’ll be much better by then. You can sit to paint, right?”

  She laughed. She’d probably work from photographs, like she’d done when she painted the picture of Mikey for Paul years ago. “Sure. I’ll do it.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “Can he call the guy off before I do the painting?” Merrie wanted to know.

  “We’ll find out today. I’ll be back.” He left them, with an enigmatic smile.

  * * *

  SARI WENT TO check in with her office, leaving only two people in the hospital room. “When Paul finds out,” Ren said softly, “we’re all going to be in the doghouse.”

  “If he’s not wanted in Texas, it’s not Paul’s problem,” Merrie pointed out. “On the other hand, it really is my life. How much trouble can it cause, just one little painting?”

  “I hope you’re right, honey.” He squeezed her hand. “I just want you to live. Whatever it takes. Anything!”

  The look in his eyes made her heart jump. She was thinking ahead, not only to a painting that might save her life, but to a new beginning with the only man she’d ever wanted.

  “I like Jacobsville,” Ren said unexpectedly. He brought Merrie’s palm to his lips and kissed it. “It’s very much like Catelow. Everybody knows everything.”

  “Yes.” The effect his mouth was having on her pulse was exciting.

  He nipped the fleshy part of her thumb with his teeth. “You have a lot of friends here.”

  “I’ve lived here...all my life.” She sounded as breathless as she felt.

  He slid his lips down to her wrist. “I’ve lived in Catelow most of mine,” he said. The taste of her soft skin was making his own heart race. He couldn’t remember a woman whose touch gave him so much pleasure.

  She was finding it harder and harder to breathe. She looked up into his eyes and felt her heart shoot up into her throat. The look in his eyes was hungry, predatory.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “The whole world went dark when you left Skyhorn.”

  “I’ve...missed you, too,” she said unsteadily.

  He got to his feet and leaned over her, one big hand leaning beside her head on the pillow, his eyes looking directly into hers. “You’re not leaving me again,” he said under his breath, tempting her mouth with his, lightly brushing her lips in a silence so full of tension that she felt she might explode. “I’ll never give you reason to run, Meredith, not ever again.”

  She couldn’t speak. Her whole body felt swollen, heavy. She reached up and touched his hard cheek, fascinated with the look on his face.

  “Words can’t convey what this can,” he breathed, and he bent to her soft mouth.

  It was a kiss unlike any he’d ever given her. It was tender, slow, full of respect and caring and wonder. She closed her eyes and her hand slid to the back of his head, to his strong neck, and dug in, holding his face to hers while he explored her soft mouth with his.

  She moaned softly, and his mouth became demanding. The door opened suddenly, and they broke apart.

  “Time for meds,” the nurse said with pursed lips. “Sorry,” she added when she noted the flushed looks on their faces.

  Ren stood up, reciting multiplication tables in his head, because what he felt was very noticeable.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll get coffee and be right back,” he told Meredith as he went out the door.

  Merrie was still catching her breath. She took the cup that held her pills from the nurse, but her hand was very unsteady.

  “He’s very good-looking,” the nurse teased. “Have you known him long?”

  “All my life. Well, not really, but that’s how it feels,” Merrie corrected with a sheepish smile.

  “It was that way with my husband and me,” the nurse said. “I knew him when I first saw him. I never understood how.” She grinned. “We have three sons. I never knew it was possible to be so happy.”

  “I’m hoping to discover that for myself,” Merrie confessed, and laughed softly.

  * * *

  REN WAS BACK a few minutes later with a cup of black coffee. He dropped into a chair, and grinned. She looked delightfully flustered. Still a little disheveled, too.

  “Cau
ght in the act,” he mused, laughing at her blush. “We’ll be the talk of the hospital. I expect they’ll be sending in chaperones soon.”

  She grinned back. “I don’t care.”

  He laughed. “We’d better keep it low-key until you heal,” he mused. His black eyes slid over her body under the sheet. “Things might get too intense for you. Right now, anyway.”

  “Too intense?” she fished.

  “You’ll see.” He just smiled.

  * * *

  THEY TOOK MERRIE home Friday in the limo. She was still unsteady on her feet, and a little sore, but so much better that she felt like a new person.

  When the limo pulled up at the front door of Graylings, Ren got out first, lifted Merrie gingerly in his arms and carried her inside.

  “Ren, I’m too heavy. There are stairs...” she began.

  He chuckled. “Honey, I heft loads twice your weight every day,” he told her, smiling into her face as he walked up the staircase. “You hardly weigh anything. You need to eat more.”

  “Just what I’ve been telling her for years, Mr. Ren,” Mandy called from the kitchen door. “Welcome home, Miss Merrie!”

  “Thanks, Mandy. It’s nice to be home!”

  “When you’re settled, I’ll bring up lunch. I made you oyster stew!”

  “My favorite!”

  “I know,” Mandy said, grinning as she went back to work.

  “She spoils me,” Merrie told Ren. She studied his hard face with loving, soft eyes.

  “Looking at me like that will land you in trouble,” he murmured.

  “Will it, really?” She brushed soft kisses on his hard cheekbone, down to his nose, over to his chin. It was exhilarating to touch him, to kiss him. She clung to his neck. “How much trouble?”

  “The kind where I lock the door behind us, and don’t come out for a week,” he murmured as they reached what she indicated was her room.

  He balanced her on one hard thigh while he turned the doorknob and carried her into the room. He closed the door behind them before he carried her to the bed and put her down, gently, on the quilt.

  “Home at last,” he said huskily.