He glanced up when she walked into his office, and his eyes smiled. His mouth did, too, but it was the smile in his eyes that got her every time. Carlin leaned against the doorjamb and returned it, with interest. She shouldn't love him, but there was no reason she couldn't love his smile. There was no reason she couldn't love the way he looked at her, as if he wanted to eat her up. Kat said they had "sparks." Looking at him right now, the air certainly seemed to be electrically charged. She could hardly stay in her own skin.

"Libby's visiting the bunkhouse. I think she's holding another inspection."

He shot out of his chair, rounding the desk and reaching for her. "You mean we're alone?"

Carlin nodded.

"For how long?"

"I don't know." Not long enough, she suspected, but she'd take what she could get.

He kissed her as if he were as hungry for the connection as she was. It was a good kiss, deep and stirring and unbroken, even when he dragged her out of the doorway and farther into the room. The office was all brown leather and dark wood, a man's domain, and it smelled the way a man's domain should. There had never been a single flower or scented candle in this room, she suspected, just sweat and paper and more leather. as she was. It was a good kiss, deep and stirring and unbroken, even when he dragged her out of the doorway and farther into the room. The office was all brown leather and dark wood, a man's domain, and it smelled the way a man's domain should. There had never been a single flower or scented candle in this room, she suspected, just sweat and paper and more leather.

He propped her against the desk, spread her legs and fit himself between them. So close, and yet not close enough. He was hard; his length pressed into her.

"Missed me?" she asked hoa.r.s.ely when he broke the kiss and unzipped her jeans.

His eyes were hooded when he answered, "More than I should."

"I've missed you." Just a few days, and she was caught on the razor's edge of blind need after one kiss.

"How much?" Zeke pushed her jeans down and thrust his hand inside her underwear. She wiggled, scooting the jeans down, spreading her thighs to make this work.

"See for yourself, cowboy," she whispered. She was wet, pulsing, all from a kiss and the scent of his body, from the warmth and hardness she'd become accustomed to calling hers. She closed her eyes when his fingers moved deeper, parting her folds and slipping inside her.

He stroked her, brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her while he plunged his fingers inside her. She came, lightning fast and hard, her tongue thrusting into his mouth, his tongue dancing with hers.

She melted against him, heart pounding and body rubbery with satisfaction. Swiftly he unzipped his own jeans, guided his erection to her, and thrust inside. She made a small guttural sound of excitement. She'd just climaxed, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted him.

He began thrusting fast, his face taut, as hungry after these days of deprivation as she'd been. His bedroom was, inconveniently, directly above the room where Libby was staying. Both of them had tried to hold back while Libby was here, but the frenzied need she felt in him told her that wasn't going to hold. was, inconveniently, directly above the room where Libby was staying. Both of them had tried to hold back while Libby was here, but the frenzied need she felt in him told her that wasn't going to hold.

His powerful body bowed into hers. He ground his teeth together to hold back any sound, and began coming. His thrusts were hard now, jarring her, going as deep as he could get.

Panting, he leaned over her, spent. She felt as if she could barely move, either, but Libby would be coming back any minute. "Hurry," she whispered. He pulled out of her, and she ran for the bathroom. She had to wash, and change her underwear. She fully expected Libby to have returned by the time she was finished, but no, they still had the house to themselves.

What could Libby be doing in the bunkhouse, for this length of time?

The answer was as obvious as the blush that suddenly burned her face. Giving them time together, that was what she was doing. No one was in the bunkhouse, the men were all out doing ch.o.r.es, so it wasn't as if she was enjoying a chat with any of them.

This was ridiculous. Time was flying by, and she wouldn't have Zeke for much longer. Libby shouldn't have to banish herself to the bunkhouse to give them time alone.

She went to Zeke's office door again. He'd cleaned up, too, and was once more sitting at his desk, though she didn't know exactly how much attention he was paying to the paperwork in front of him. His eyes had that sleepy, sated look she adored.

"Enough's enough. My room, tonight," she said. "You'll know when Libby's asleep because she snores loud enough for the sound to make it to the kitchen."

"I don't care if she knows we're sleeping together." He leaned back in his chair and looped his hands behind his head. "She's not an idiot, she's probably already figured it out." leaned back in his chair and looped his hands behind his head. "She's not an idiot, she's probably already figured it out."

"That doesn't mean I want her listening in. My room is farther away."

The back door slammed. From the kitchen, Libby's voice rang out in what was obviously a warning. "Carly, where's the lemon-scented cleaner? We need to make a run through the bunkhouse. I swear, those boys would live in filth if it was allowed."

Zeke ignored Libby's call and gave Carlin a sober look. "If a few days is like this, what's it going to be like when you're gone?"

She tried a shrug. "Out of sight, out of mind." She hoped, and she didn't hope. She'd miss him so much she already ached, and it was awful of her but she wanted him to miss her the same way.

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

LIBBY WAS SURPRISED to find that she liked the cold. She'd missed it. If she stayed here much longer she'd probably change her tune, but for now she enjoyed walking down Battle Ridge's main street bundled up from head to toe, the wind on her face as she thought about a cup of hot coffee and a slice of Kat's pie. to find that she liked the cold. She'd missed it. If she stayed here much longer she'd probably change her tune, but for now she enjoyed walking down Battle Ridge's main street bundled up from head to toe, the wind on her face as she thought about a cup of hot coffee and a slice of Kat's pie.

It was almost time for her to leave. She'd come here to check out Carly Hunt and she had. Zeke was wild about the girl, and the girl was wild about him. Maybe they were in love, maybe it was all pheromones and hormones and it wouldn't last. But Carly was just who she appeared to be, and Zeke was fine. Libby's curiosity had been satisfied, and she felt certain she was leaving the man who had been like a son to her in good hands.

Carly was good in the kitchen and she kept the house clean. She took care of Zeke without taking any s.h.i.t. She was a strong woman, and that was exactly what Zeke needed. clean. She took care of Zeke without taking any s.h.i.t. She was a strong woman, and that was exactly what Zeke needed.

Libby heard a familiar voice call her name. Turning, she watched Carly wave and step into the street, and she stopped to wait for her. The girl must love to read; she went to the library every time she came to town, and always brought home at least two books, sometimes more.

Neither of them saw the truck until it was too late. Just as Carly stepped out from between two parked cars, a red pickup with a teenager behind the wheel took the corner too fast and swerved onto the main street. The inexperienced kid lost control and skidded right into Carly. She tried to jump back, and the driver tried to steer the big vehicle away from her, but he clipped her with his b.u.mper.

There was a thud, followed by a curse. Carly hit the ground on the other side of the truck. Her purse and the books she'd been carrying flew out of her hands and skidded away, landing under the nearest parked vehicle.

Her heart in her mouth, Libby ran. She forgot her knees, forgot everything in her rush to get to Carly. If she was seriously hurt, or, oh G.o.d, she might die, and what would Zeke do- Other people were running toward the scene. Kat came flying out of the cafe, screaming Carly's name. Libby skidded around the vehicle that hid Carly from view, and almost pa.s.sed out from relief. Carly was half-sprawled, half-sitting on the asphalt, dazed but apparently unbroken. Best of all, she looked p.i.s.sed.

"Don't move!" Kat ordered when Carly tried to stand. She turned her attention to another bystander, and immediately contradicted herself. "You, help me get her up. She needs to be checked out at the clinic." Then she was on her knees beside Carly. "Is anything broken? No, don't move!" on her knees beside Carly. "Is anything broken? No, don't move!"

"I have to move if you're going to get me up," Carly said testily. "I'm fine. Really. I think. At any rate, I don't think anything's broken." She held her hands out and Kat caught one, while the man Kat had dragooned gripped the other one and together they got her to her feet. When she reeled back, Kat was there to catch and steady her.

"You might have a concussion," Kat said.

"I don't, I'm fine-"

"You're going to the clinic, and I'm going with you." Kat looked up and spotted a friend. "Mary, would you watch the cafe for me for a while?"

"I'm just shaken up, honest."

"Carly, you go on," Libby said firmly. "Kat's right. I'll take care of everything here. Wasn't that the Collins boy?" she demanded angrily of someone.

"Yeah, that was him. Here he comes back, thank G.o.d. He'd have been in a world of trouble if he'd kept going."

Carly did seem to be a bit out of it; she didn't even look toward the truck that had hit her. Young Collins climbed out of the truck, his face white. "Is she okay?"

"No thanks to you, dumb a.s.s!" Libby barked. "You know better than to be speeding in town." Libby allowed Kat to help Carly to the clinic, while she handled the more mundane ch.o.r.es, such as tearing a strip off the Collins kid's hide. She also rounded up Carly's purse and the books she'd checked out, then waited around until a deputy arrived to take her statement.

When that was taken care of, Libby walked down to the clinic. There were a woman and child in the waiting room, but no sign of Carly and Kat, so they must've been taken in to see the doctor.

Libby knew the receptionist, because there was just this one clinic in town and she'd come here herself for years.

Evelyn Fortier had lived in Battle Ridge forever. She'd worked for three different doctors in this same clinic. Evelyn Fortier had lived in Battle Ridge forever. She'd worked for three different doctors in this same clinic.

"Hi, Evelyn," Libby said as she walked up to the desk. "How on earth are you?"

They talked a moment, catching up. They hadn't been great friends, but they had always been friendly acquaintances. Finally Libby asked, "Any word on Carly? I hope she's not seriously hurt."

Evelyn's eyebrows shot up. "Well, of course you're here with Carly. I should've realized that right away." She tsked. "You don't know if she has any insurance, do you?"

"No, but Zeke will take care of all the bills, if she doesn't."

"Oh, I know he will. We will need some identification of some kind for our records, before she leaves. Kat just hustled her on back and I didn't even get to make a copy of her driver's license."

"I have her purse. Let me check."

Good heavens, Carly's purse was so neat and organized! A place for everything and everything in its place. The canister of pepper spray was a little startling, but not unusual. Maybe she should get some herself. Libby pulled out Carly's wallet, all the while considering the pepper spray and noting the brand name, and opened it. There was plenty of cash, more than she'd expected to find, but not a single credit card. No driver's license or insurance card, either.

"Well, I don't see one."

The phone rang, and Evelyn answered. Libby walked away, still shuffling through the wallet. Carly had driven one of Zeke's work trucks to town, so surely she had a license and had it with her. The contents of the wallet were off, somehow. It was just odd odd. Libby's own wallet contained two credit cards, an AARP card, an AAA card, and two grocery store rewards cards, as well as a driver's license and her insurance cards. And pictures, of course-all of her grandkids, but still...there was nothing in Carly's wallet to identify the owner. Nothing. license and her insurance cards. And pictures, of course-all of her grandkids, but still...there was nothing in Carly's wallet to identify the owner. Nothing.

She started searching for hidden pockets, and found one. There, shoved into a side pocket low and tight, was a card. Libby managed to wrangle the card to the surface.

She looked down at it, immediately recognizing Carly's photo. Then the name hit her between the eyes and her heart sank. She held in her hand a Texas driver's license with an unsmiling photo of Carly staring back at her. The name on the license wasn't Carly Hunt, it was Carlin Reed Reed. Carlin Jane Reed, to be precise. She could see Carly being a nickname, but Reed? Why was her last name different?

That, along with the lack of any other personal information, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She'd been so worried about Carly scamming Zeke, she hadn't even considered that the girl would be so good that she herself could be scammed, as well.

Why would she use a false name? Was she wanted by the police? On the FBI most wanted list? Then Libby mentally smacked herself in the forehead. Duh. The most logical reason for a different last name was marriage. Was Carly a married woman? Oh my G.o.d. That would break Zeke's heart.

What on earth was she supposed to do now?

"Any luck?" Evelyn called.

Libby shoved Carly's driver's license back in the hidden pocket. Until she decided what to do, there was no reason to share what she'd found. "No, I'm sorry. Carly must've left her license at home."

It was tempting to tell everyone what she'd found, to shout fraud fraud at the top of her lungs when Carly- at the top of her lungs when Carly-Carlin-returned, battered and unsettled, some bandages on her sc.r.a.ped hands but essentially whole. But maybe subtlety was called for. Before she started throwing accusations around, accusations the fraud probably had ready answers for, she was going to do a little digging on her own. was called for. Before she started throwing accusations around, accusations the fraud probably had ready answers for, she was going to do a little digging on her own.

She wasn't leaving until she knew what the h.e.l.l was going on.

Chapter Twenty-seven

LIBBY WAITED UNTIL Carly had her hands full with laundry before she sneaked into Zeke's office and sat at the desk chair. Zeke wouldn't be back for at least another hour, maybe two. She had plenty of time as far as he was concerned, and if Carly came in she'd just say she was emailing her daughter. Carly had her hands full with laundry before she sneaked into Zeke's office and sat at the desk chair. Zeke wouldn't be back for at least another hour, maybe two. She had plenty of time as far as he was concerned, and if Carly came in she'd just say she was emailing her daughter.

If she simply asked why Carly was using a false name, the girl would probably have a good answer, one that Zeke would buy without question because he was blinded by testosterone. She needed to know what she was up against before she confronted Carlin Reed. Maybe she'd find a marriage announcement out of some Texas newspaper. Were divorce announcements posted anywhere? She didn't think so, but it wouldn't hurt to look.

Libby plugged Carly's real name-including the Jane-into Google and hit "enter." If she was wanted by the police, if there was an article about her online, if there were pictures of a wedding, maybe Google would provide proof. A lot of Jane Reeds came up, but after shuffling through several possibilities Libby searched again using just Carlin Reed.

Nothing. At least, no one by that name who could be Carly. How could anyone not be on the Internet somewhere?

There were links to places where she could pay to see public records, and she might have to resort to that later, but for right now that seemed a little drastic. There were links to places where she could pay to see public records, and she might have to resort to that later, but for right now that seemed a little drastic.

Libby pushed away from the desk. Now what? The simple explanation was that Carly was married-or recently divorced and now using her maiden name. But just because it was the simple explanation, that didn't mean it was the right one. The lack of credit cards and other paraphernalia hinted at something more.

But what?

BRAD WAS LYING back on the hotel bed, hands behind his head and watching some s.h.i.t on the cheap-a.s.s TV, when his computer dinged, alerting him that a message had come in. He didn't rush to the desk to check out whatever it was; usually the alerts were nothing. back on the hotel bed, hands behind his head and watching some s.h.i.t on the cheap-a.s.s TV, when his computer dinged, alerting him that a message had come in. He didn't rush to the desk to check out whatever it was; usually the alerts were nothing.

In a couple of days, maybe three, he'd be in Cheyenne and he'd find out if the PI who'd searched his name was in any way related to Carlin. He'd tried to hack in, but the PI had impressive firewalls. Who else but Carlin would've hired a PI to check him out? Maybe she thought he'd given up on her. Maybe she thought she was safe, the stupid b.i.t.c.h.

She made him wild. Everything that had happened to him was all her fault. How could she not see how perfect they were together? And yet, after the way she'd acted, he'd have to be stupid himself to want her. His emotions warred within him, hate and love and fury so mixed together he didn't even try to sort them out. He loved her. She'd thrown that love back at him, she'd filed stupid charges against him, and eventually caused him to lose his job. Every mistake he'd ever made was because of her. She deserved deserved to be eliminated-not just killed, though he'd settle for that if necessary, but to be eliminated-not just killed, though he'd settle for that if necessary, but punished punished for everything for everything she'd done. And then-then, he'd release himself by killing her. Then he could start fresh. she'd done. And then-then, he'd release himself by killing her. Then he could start fresh.

But look at where he was now, all because of her, and he didn't like it. He'd never imagined he'd find himself driving into Wyoming in January. It was too f.u.c.king cold this far north, too alien. He was used to flat land and hot temperatures, the ocean, but here he was surrounded by mountains so f.u.c.king enormous they didn't seem real, and weather so cold it bit into his lungs like a wild animal.

He hadn't come up here unprepared, though. He'd done some research, gathered the things he'd need. He had chains for his tires in the truck, in case it snowed and he needed them. He kept blankets, candles, water, and power bars in the truck, too. He'd had to stop in Colorado to buy a new heavy coat to keep himself from freezing to death. Why couldn't she have hired a PI in Florida, or maybe Southern California? This was ridiculous. She'd pay, when he found her.

But when he got up and finally read the message waiting for him, Brad forgot the cold and the expense and the sorry-a.s.s TV, and everything else. Carlin Jane Reed Carlin Jane Reed. There was no mistaking who that search had been for. He'd had false leads before, searches for and by other Carlin Reeds-though there weren't many-but this one, it had to be her. Forgetting the PI, forgetting everything, his fingers flew over the keyboard.

Maybe he wouldn't be going to Cheyenne after all.

CARLIN SMILED AT Libby as the woman walked into the kitchen. Her clothes were put away, and a load of towels was in the dryer. The roast she'd put in the slow cooker that morning was filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma, and the corn bread was ready to go in the oven. Her hip was a little sore, thanks to the minor Libby as the woman walked into the kitchen. Her clothes were put away, and a load of towels was in the dryer. The roast she'd put in the slow cooker that morning was filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma, and the corn bread was ready to go in the oven. Her hip was a little sore, thanks to the minor accident that afternoon, but aside from that ache and a small headache, all was well. It could've been a lot worse. Privately she admitted that she'd have liked to curl up in a recliner and not do anything for the rest of the day, but if she'd given in to that urge all h.e.l.l would have broken loose around her and she'd have found herself carted off to a hospital, w.i.l.l.y-nilly, so she kept going. accident that afternoon, but aside from that ache and a small headache, all was well. It could've been a lot worse. Privately she admitted that she'd have liked to curl up in a recliner and not do anything for the rest of the day, but if she'd given in to that urge all h.e.l.l would have broken loose around her and she'd have found herself carted off to a hospital, w.i.l.l.y-nilly, so she kept going.

Libby didn't return the smile. Instead the look she gave Carlin was distinctly somber, and immediately a spike of adrenaline sent her heart racing. "What's wrong? Zeke! Has something happened to Zeke?"

"He's fine, as far as I know," Libby said. She stared hard at Carlin. "As for whether or not something's wrong, I was hoping you'd tell me, Ms. Reed Ms. Reed."

Her knees went weak. Carlin grabbed the kitchen counter behind her for balance as her vision swam. Everything seemed to close in on her, the world closing down to a narrow tunnel and everything around it turning gray. It was an effort to remain on her feet.

The shock was sickening. She'd known this would happen, she'd known she'd be found out eventually, but Libby using her real name had come without warning, and Carlin felt like someone had swiped her legs out from under her.

She'd been found, she was no longer safe...oh, G.o.d, she was going to have to leave Zeke.

Carlin came to her senses enough to realize that Libby had noticed her reaction and was staring at her with a mixture of alarm and puzzlement. "How did you...what..."

"This afternoon Evelyn asked for your driver's license. I had to dig for it, but..."

But she'd found it, tucked into a side pocket. Carlin turned and ran toward her rooms to pack, to collect her fairly substantial stash of cash and go. The receptionist at the clinic would've innocently plugged her real name into the computer. Brad would know. He was probably already on his way to Battle Ridge... into the computer. Brad would know. He was probably already on his way to Battle Ridge...

Libby's voice was distant, even though it was right behind her. She dimly heard Carly, Carly Carly, Carly, over and over again, and then finally a sharp, "Carlin Jane!" for all the world like a frustrated mother. "I didn't give Evelyn the license, if that's what has you in such a state," Libby said sharply. "Good heavens, what's wrong? Why does it matter?"

Relief washed through her, as strong and unbalancing as the fear had been. Carlin stopped in the hallway and slumped against the wall.

Libby placed fisted hands on her generous hips. "Do you want to explain to me what's going on? You're not married, are you? It would break Zeke's heart..."

"No," Carlin answered, her voice not as steady as it should've been. "I'm not married. Never have been."

"Then why the name Hunt instead of Reed?"