only thing he wanted from her was help for Erin. They had played at love once, but both of them had broken the rules. He didn’t intend to play the game with her again.
Chapter 2
“Johnna was running late. Susan Boskow’s shoplifting trial had ended at five. The accused had received a sentence of probation and the promise that in the future if she found herself unable to feed her children, she’d reach out to the variety of agencies available for help.
Johnna’s brother’s wedding was set to take place at five, and she hurried from the courthouse, running down the street toward the tiny Methodist Church where Mark Delaney and his intended bride had chosen to be married.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she flew into the small sanctuary where her brothers all stood, looking hopelessly ill at ease and out of place.
“You aren’t late—the bride-to-be is,” Luke said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “She probably came to her senses and decided marrying Mark was a big mistake.”
Mark looked stricken and Matthew frowned irritably. “Knock it off, Luke,” he said sternly. “Mark is nervous enough without your comments.”
The beginnings of a headache banged above Johnna’s right eye. “As usual, I see we’re acting like one big happy family,” she said irritably.
In the three months since their father’s death, the four siblings had already faced an enormous hurdle. Mark had been attacked and a ranch worker had been killed in order to protect an illegal-alien smuggling ring that had been operating from the ranch.
The guilty had been arrested, including the family lawyer, who had been the executor of their father’s will. A new lawyer had been retained, several ranch hands had been fired, and somehow in the middle of all the chaos, love had blossomed between Mark and April Cartwright, the woman who’d been hired as social director for the ranch.
The shared trauma had initially forged a fragile bond among the Delaney children as they united to fight an outside foe, but that bond was stretched thin as the need to unite passed and they were once again left to deal with one another without the tools necessary. They had not been taught how to interact with one another. A basic mistrust had been instilled in each of them, along with enough emotional baggage to last a lifetime.
God bless Adam Delaney. He’d been a shrewd businessman, one hell of a rancher, but he’d been a cold, mean-spirited man who’d taught his children nothing about love or family.
Mark looked as handsome as Johnna had ever seen him. He was clad in a black suit with a crisp white shirt. In fact, all her brothers looked exceptionally handsome without their trademark jeans and cowboy hats.
Mark eyed his watch worriedly, and at that moment April and her son, Brian, flew in. Mark’s eyes flamed with an intensity so bright, so hot, Johnna felt the burn in the pit of her stomach.
Would a man ever look at her with such tenderness, such longing? A wistful yearning pierced her. Mark wore his love for April on his features—in the shine of his eyes and the curve of his lips.
Jerrod once looked at me that way. The thought snaked its way into her head and she shoved it away, knowing it was a false memory. She’d only believed that was the way Jerrod had looked at her. But it had all been a lie.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” April said, looking lovely in a beige linen suit that emphasized her blond coloring. She smiled and took Mark’s hands in hers. “Brian lost his dress shoes,” she explained.
The eleven-year-old boy held out a foot, displaying his cowboy boots. “Those old shoes were too small, anyway. Besides, I told Mom you wouldn’t care if I wore my boots.”
Mark laughed, the worried lines that had creased his forehead gone. “I wouldn’t have cared if you showed up barefoot,” he said.
The church secretary stuck her head in the door that led to the small office. “Oh, good, I see you’re all ready.”
“All we need is the preacher man,” Luke replied.
“He’ll be right with you all,” she replied.
Before anyone could say another word, the office door opened and Jerrod McCain stepped out wearing a black minister’s robe.
For a moment Johnna thought this was some sort of dreadful joke. Seeing Jerrod in preacher robes was like seeing Santa Claus without his beard—it didn’t fit.
She’d had no time to gather her defenses, to steel herself for the assault of seeing him again. She hadn’t remembered his shoulders being quite so wide, his hair so rich and thick and his eyes such a piercing shade of blue.
She was suddenly aware of the run in her hose, the drab gray of her suit and the knowledge that her hair was probably standing on end.
As his gaze met hers, she raised her chin and refused to look away, hoping she conveyed a cool confidence and indifference that belied the tumultuous emotions racing inside her.
Finally he broke the gaze, moving to greet each of her brothers and the prospective bride. To Johnna’s relief, the ceremony began almost immediately.
As Jerrod spoke the words that would bind her brother and April together as husband and wife, Johnna tried to defend herself against the wave of memories that assailed her.
At one time she and Jerrod had talked of wedding vows and marriage. They’d spoken of forever and always, and for the very first time in Johnna’s life, she’d felt valued…wanted.
It hadn’t mattered that her father hated her, that he’d been bitterly disappointed that she hadn’t been another son. It hadn’t mattered that he had never forgiven her for surviving a difficult birth while his wife had died. None of it had mattered as long as Jerrod loved her.
Lies, she thought bitterly. All smoke and mirrors. No substance…no truth. Any love she might have entertained for Jerrod, despite the lies and betrayal, had died an irreversible death on the day she had buried Miranda.
She shoved these thoughts aside, refusing to go to the dark places in her soul where she mourned the baby girl she had lost. Although her brothers knew she’d lost a baby years ago, none of them had known the depth of her grief. She’d never shared that with anyone.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Jerrod said, his deep voice bringing Johnna firmly back to the present.
“And son,” Brian quipped, his face beaming with happiness.
Mark laughed and ruffled Brian’s hair. “And son,” he agreed.
“You gonna kiss the bride, or do I get to do it for you?” Luke asked.
Mark gathered April into his arms. “I think, dear brother, this is a job I can handle all by myself.”
As he kissed his new bride, Johnna was once again filled with a bittersweet wistfulness. She hardened herself against it, hating herself for entertaining any weakness or desire for anything remotely resembling love.
Fortunately, the congratulations were over quickly. Mark and April departed for a one-night stay at a bed-and-breakfast in town. Brian left with Matthew to return to the ranch, where he was spending the night with a friend.
Luke scurried out, probably in anticipation of a hot date, and Johnna headed for the door with him, unwilling to be left in the small church with Jerrod.
She needed time to think, and she headed to the place where she’d always done her best thinking. In the lobby of the courthouse, she stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the top floor.
When she reached that floor, she headed for the stairs that led up to the roof. She shoved open the door and stepped out, at the same time drawing in a deep breath of the hot arid air.
She walked over to the five-foot-high wall that surrounded the flat roof and peered out onto the streets of the small town.
The