some wacko has just focused in on Gracie in some sort of obsessed delusion.”
“In which case we might never know who’s writing those letters.”
Clay frowned, creating a deep etch across his broad forehead. His gaze slid from Libby to the sleeping girl in her lap. “Unfortunately, I have a feeling whoever wrote those letters isn’t just going to go away.”
His words shot a wave of disquiet through Libby. At that moment, the car pulled up in front of the house.
“Gracie, honey. We’re home. It’s time to wake up.” Libby shook her daughter’s shoulder lightly and tried to forget the knot that had formed in her stomach at Clay’s words.
“I don’t wanna wake up,” Gracie said sleepily.
“Come on, honey. We need to go inside.”
“I’ll get her,” Clay said. He got out of the car, then reached in and scooped Gracie up in his arms. Gracie curled her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, obviously perfectly at ease in his strong arms.
Libby got out of the car and watched as the big cowboy carried her daughter into the house. For just a brief, surprising moment she was struck with a wave of intense longing.
She frowned and consciously willed the strange emotion away. He’d just made her feel crazy vulnerable with his thoughts about whoever was after Gracie.
After all, she had a life most envied. She and Gracie were a Hollywood success story. What else could she possibly want?
“Mr. Clay rides horses when he’s at his house. Can we get a horse, Mommy?” Gracie asked as the three of them shared their evening meal.
It had been four days since Clay had arrived at the house for this assignment. Four days of filming and lessons and bonding with the little girl who was his latest client.
Despite the fact that he’d never had much interest in children before, in spite of the fact he’d never wanted to have anything to do with kids, Gracie Bryant had managed to charm him.
She was so full of life, and possessed a wonderful sense of awe about each day and everything the world had to offer. She was affectionate with him, often grabbing his hand or leaning against him as they walked.
Libby Bryant was a different story. She was beautiful, obviously intelligent and the coldest woman he’d ever met. In the four days he’d spent with her he had yet to get any real feel for the woman beneath the cool facade. She offered no personal information about herself, nor did she request any personal information from him.
Even though it was none of his business how she raised her daughter, his growing feelings for Gracie made it difficult for him to say nothing about the fact that he felt as though the little girl needed a real life.
She needed to have time to play and to get dirty and to sleep in. She should be having picnics in the park and going to a real school with friends instead of supporting dozens of adults by providing a lifestyle of excesses.
“Honey, we can’t have a horse. We don’t have the facilities to keep one,” Libby said. “But on Sunday you’ll get to sit on one. Remember you have that photo shoot to advertise Duggin’s Dude Ranches.”
“A photo shoot?” Clay looked at Libby curiously. She was clad in a silky white blouse and a white pair of slacks with turquoise jewelry that complemented the color of her eyes.
“Gracie is doing a series of print ads for a chain of dude ranches and the first shoot is Sunday on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.”
“I get to sit on a horse and wear a cowgirl hat and everything,” Gracie exclaimed with excitement. “It’s going to be such fun!”
Such fun? No, it was going to be a nightmare, Clay thought with irritation. What was Libby thinking? Setting up a photo shoot in such a public place? Dammit, was the money from such an endorsement worth her daughter’s safety?
He’d been raised that a meal wasn’t the time for any kind of a confrontation. Besides, he wanted to discuss the matter alone with Libby where Gracie wouldn’t hear him.
“I’d like an opportunity to talk to you later this evening,” he said as they got up from the table. “After Gracie is in bed.”
She nodded, her cool blue gaze not quite meeting his. He wasn’t surprised. Even though they sat side by side every day while Gracie worked, they’d had little other interaction with each other.
He got the feeling that she considered him nothing more than paid help and the lady of the manor didn’t mingle with the hired hands.
Ordinarily that wouldn’t bother him, but something about this woman bothered him a lot. He sometimes felt her gaze lingering on him but when he’d look at her, her gaze skittered away.
There was no denying that there was an uncomfortable tension between them, a tension he didn’t understand. She was so closed in she gave nothing of herself away. Funny, that’s what his family had always said about him.
After dinner the usual routine was that Libby and Gracie would disappear upstairs for bedtime preparations and Clay had some free time. He went up to his bedroom and decided it was time to check in with his youngest brother, Joshua.
Joshua was the only sibling who didn’t work for the family business of Wild West Protective Services. He’d left Cotter Creek, Oklahoma, and had become a stockbroker in New York City. He’d been remarkably successful and had embraced the New York lifestyle of working hard and playing even harder.
Clay sat on the edge of the bed, unfastened the gun he wore strapped to his ankle and set it on the nightstand, then grabbed his cell phone and punched in Joshua’s number.
Joshua answered Clay’s call on the second ring. “Hey, brother,” Joshua said, obviously pleased at the sound of Clay’s voice. “Where are you? Last time we talked you were in Las Vegas.”
“California, the land of swimming pools and starlets,” Clay replied.
“Lucky you. So who’s the client? Some buff-bodied babe with a California tan and a lust for cowboys in her eyes?” Joshua asked.
“Not hardly.” Clay laughed. “She’s eight, cute as a button and has a lust for chocolate ice cream.” He quickly filled Joshua in on the details of his latest assignment. “What about you? How’s life in the Big Apple these days?”
“Good, but I’m thinking seriously about going back home to Cotter Creek.”
“Why?” Clay asked, shocked by his brother’s words. For the past year Joshua had embraced his urban lifestyle and had never voiced a moment of homesickness.
“Something’s up back home.”
“What do you mean?” Clay stood from the bed and walked to the window, staring outside where night was quickly falling.
“Tanner and Zack seem to think something weird is going on. You know when Katie Sampson’s father was killed, murdered by a ranch hand named Sonny Williams?”
Katie lived on the neighboring ranch to the West’s place. Clay knew that immediately following her father’s death she’d hired Zack to help her find her father’s killer and for personal protection. The end result had been the arrest of a ranch hand and Katie and Zack were now engaged.
“I thought that was the end of it,” Clay said. “The guilty party was behind bars and that was that.”
“You need to check in at home more often,” Joshua chided him. “When Williams was arrested, he said the murder wasn’t personal, that it was business, made it sound like it was some sort of big conspiracy, but then he refused to say anything more.”
“Business? What kind of business includes