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  “I figured as much.” Belinda was grateful that while Derek had been out she’d thought to call her sisters and explain the situation to them. She hadn’t wanted them to hear about Janice through the grapevine. “She sure had me fooled.” Belinda wrapped her arms around her shoulders to still a shiver. “I’m just glad it’s over and I can get on with my life.”

  “Yeah, Janice was one of a kind, but she was incredibly stupid.”

  Belinda looked at him in surprise, wishing his face wasn’t shadowed by the limbs of the trees. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Again she saw the white flash of Roger’s teeth. “If she’d been smart, she’d have killed you and not been caught.”

  Belinda felt a ripple of unease at his words. She tensed as he took another step toward her. “Yes, Janice was dumb, but she wanted the same thing I did.”

  “And what’s that?” Belinda asked, every nerve in her body screaming warnings she didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend.

  “She wanted you dead.” With a single, smooth movement, he pulled something from his pocket. A click sounded and the moon glinted off the blade of a wicked-looking knife. “Although this little moonlight meeting was unplanned, it provides a perfect opportunity for me to finish what Janice tried desperately to accomplish.”

  Belinda felt as if she’d been thrust into a nightmare. For a moment she couldn’t move. Stunned inertia held her captive. “Why?” she finally managed to whisper.

  “Janice told me you’re the one. You’re my halfsister, my father’s daughter.” His eyes glittered in the moonlight, as frightening as the knife he held in his hand. But he seemed to be in no hurry to use it; he acted with the confidence of a man who knew he had plenty of time to accomplish his goal.

  “At first I wasn’t sure which of the three of you it was. I figured I’d just make sure you all suffered tragic accidents.”

  “You pushed Colette off the butte,” Belinda said in shock, remembering the night months ago that Colette had nearly plunged to her death.

  “True. And I locked her in that cellar. And I also dropped a bale of hay on Abby, hoping it would break her neck.” He laughed and shook his head with a rueful smile. “But you Connor girls are hard to kill.”

  “I still don’t understand. Why would you want to kill us? What have we ever done to you?”

  “You exist.” The words exploded from him, sharp as gunfire. He drew a breath, as if to steady himself. “It’s nothing personal, Belinda. You see, the problem is, I hate my father. I hate him with every fiber of my being. Before he dies I want to be able to lean over and whisper in his ear that I killed the daughter he’d always wanted.”

  The inertia that had gripped Belinda shattered with his horrifying words. Acting with survival instincts alone, she pushed off from the tree trunk and ran.

  Fear made her clumsy, awkward, and she tripped and fell to one knee. Sobbing, she pulled herself up and raced on. The moonlight that had aided her earlier was now an enemy, keeping her far too visible to Roger’s pursuit. Thick brush and trees made running fast difficult and holes and ruts impeded her further.

  She knew screaming would be a futile waste of energy. She was between the two ranches, too far away for anyone in either house to hear.

  Within moments a stitch ached in her side and her breathing became labored. Still she ran, dodging between trees, careening through bushes.

  She finally paused behind the trunk of a large oak tree, needing to get her bearings and catch her breath. Where was Roger? She clasped a hand over her mouth, trying to still the ragged breaths that tore at her lungs. She couldn’t hear him.

  Had she lost him? Was it possible he’d lost sight of her in the moonlight? Pressing her back against the tree as if she could disappear into the wood, she listened for any sound, any indication that he approached.

  All the night creatures had fallen silent. The only sound she heard was the slight rustle of the leaves as the wind moved amid leaves above her head. Where was he? Should she run or should she remain here, frozen like a frightened rabbit?

  Placing a hand over her pounding heart, she leaned to peek out from behind the tree. Moonlight bathed the immediate area. No sign of Roger.

  Maybe I lost him, she thought. Hope surged within her, but she tamped it down, recognizing that she was far from being out of danger.

  If she could just get to the Connor bunkhouse, Bulldog wouldn’t let anyone harm her. Or to the house, where her brothers-in-law would keep her safe.

  She screamed as Roger suddenly loomed in front of her, his teeth shining as he grinned in triumph. She turned to run, but cried out as he managed to snag her braid in a firm grasp. Pain exploded at the nape of her neck as she struggled to free herself.

  “Don’t fight it, Belinda,” Roger exclaimed as he grappled to maintain his hold on her. “Make this easy on me and I’ll see you die a quick death. Make it hard and I promise you’ll suffer.”

  Belinda kicked out blindly behind her, jubilation surging through her as her foot connected solidly with his groin. His grip on her hair instantly loosened as he cursed and sank to his knees.

  Once again she ran, terror sweeping through her as she heard his pursuit, the promises of what he’d do to her when he caught her. “I’m going to kill you, sweet little sister. I’m going to slice your throat.” He raged. He laughed. He promised. And Belinda’s blood ran cold.

  She had no idea where she was, in what direction she ran, until she saw the dragon tree ahead. She didn’t think it through. As she heard Roger closing on her, thought was no longer possible. When she reached the tree, without hesitation, she began to climb.

  The tree was not an easy tree to scale. Years of familiarity, years of practice, gave Belinda knowledge of the secret knots and crevices, the nearly hidden footholds, that would allow somebody to ascend up to where the lowest branches were out of reach from anyone on the ground.

  When she reached those branches, she paused to catch her breath. She peered down to the ground, her heart leaping into her throat as Roger circled the base of the tree.

  He laughed, the sound sending shivers racing down Belinda’s spine. “Looks like you’ve got yourself up a tree, little sister.”

  “You’ll never get away with this, Roger,” she replied, hoping—praying—he couldn’t climb trees and that he suffered a severe case of fear of heights.

  “I practically have gotten away with it,” he returned. “I’ll admit, there’s been times I thought you Connor sisters had more than your share of guardian angels. But it appears yours has finally gone on vacation.” Again he seemed to be in no hurry as he circled the tree where she had effectively cornered herself.

  “Roger…this is crazy. You can’t know for sure that I’m your sister and even if I am, what do you hope to possibly accomplish by killing me?”

  “Your death will destroy him. I want that. I want to see his eyes when I tell him I killed you. I know you’re the one. Janice made me see that you’re the one.”

  “Janice wanted you to believe that,” Belinda exclaimed in frustration. “She wanted me dead for her own purposes. You’re playing right into her hands.”

  “Shut up. You should already be dead. I nearly had you on the night of your party.”

  Belinda gasped, remembering the feel of those strong hands around her throat. She’d been right all along, they had been male hands. Roger’s hands.

  “Roger, Janice used you.” She tried to reason with him. “It’s not too late to stop this.”

  “I don’t want to hear any more. I’m tired of talking.” He jumped in an attempt to grab the lowest branch, but it was out of his reach.

  Belinda watched in horror as he gripped the knife between his teeth, then ran his hands along the trunk of the tree, seeking the holds that had aided her in her climb.

  She heard his grunt of satisfaction, then he began to clamber after her. Belinda moved higher, refusing to speculate what would happen when she reached the top and there was no place else to g
o. When she’d gone about halfway up the tree, she paused again and looked below her.

  She could just barely see the top of his head. His progress was slow…but each move he made brought him closer to her. Sooner or later he would reach her. There would be no place else to climb and he would be close enough to thrust the knife into her.

  With a sob of despair, she moved higher. As her foot stepped into the juncture where two large branches met, she heard the odd sound of her boot hitting metal.

  Still hanging on to the tree with one hand, she bent and with her free hand touched the coolness of metal. Quickly, aware of Roger’s steady climb toward her, she ran her fingers across the surface. It felt like a box. A metal strongbox tucked into a shallow cavity.

  She didn’t stop to consider how it had gotten there, didn’t care what it might contain. To her, the box represented one thing. A weapon. Her fingers scrambled to loosen it from its hiding place. She gasped as it came away from the wood, and held it to her chest.

  It was too unwieldy to swing like a bat, too heavy for anything but…She looked down to where Roger was visible through the branches that separated them.

  As she stared down at him, he looked up. At some point during his climb he’d taken the knife out of his mouth and once again had it in his hand.

  He saw her peering down at him and smiled, his eyes gleaming in evil anticipation. “Where are you going to go, sweet sister? You going to fly out of the top of the tree?” He laughed, the laughter ringing discordantly through the night.

  He turned his attention back to his ascension, moving first hands, then feet to bring him closer…closer to her. A sudden, deep exhaustion crept through Belinda.

  Too much. The events of the day, the emotional traumas had all been too much. All she wanted to do was curl up in the arms of the dragon tree and cry.

  First Janice, who’d set a fire that destroyed any chance of happiness she and Derek would ever have. Now Roger, whose madness promised an end to her life. Anger usurped exhaustion. Rage surged inside her. How dare these people play with her fate? How dare they orchestrate her life like demented puppeteers?

  With a cry of outrage, she raised the strongbox above her, then dashed it down at Roger.

  She heard the sickening thud as it connected. He grunted and lost his hold. With a helpless cry, he fell, his body crashing through limbs and branches before falling to the ground.

  Staring to where he lay face-down, unmoving, Belinda wondered if it was a trick. Was he hurt, unconscious…or was he playing possum, waiting for her to climb down where she’d be an easy target?

  She crouched in the cradle of the two limbs, unsure what to do. Minutes ticked by. Long, agonizing moments of indecision.

  Even if he was unconscious, sooner or later he’d come to and when he did, he’d come after her again. She couldn’t just wait for that to happen. Cautiously, she lowered herself, pausing at each level to look down at Roger once again.

  “Belinda?” Derek’s voice, like a beacon of light in the darkness, rang out in the distance.

  “Over here, Derek,” she screamed. “By the dragon tree.”

  He stepped out of the brush and into the clearing by the tree. In an instant his gaze took in the scene of Belinda in the tree and Roger unmoving on the ground. “Are you all right? What happened?” he asked as he squatted next to Roger’s body.

  “Is…is he dead?”

  “No. He’s out cold, but he’s breathing. Belinda, what in the hell is going on?”

  “He tried to kill me. Look around…he had a knife.”

  Derek found the knife near the base of the tree, and only when he had it in his possession did Belinda leave her perch.

  She went directly into his arms, burrowing her face in the front of his shirt as she shivered uncontrollably with residual fear and overwhelming relief. As he held her close, she told him everything that had happened.

  Roger moaned, signaling approaching consciousness, and Derek released Belinda and used his belt to tie Roger’s hands behind his back.

  “We’ll take him home and call the sheriff.” Derek smiled at her and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “We seem to be calling Junior a lot lately.”

  “I hope after tonight I never have reason to call him again,” Belinda replied fervently. She longed to lean against Derek once again, press her face into the warmth of his touch, but she knew better than to give in to her need. Him holding her, his hand against her cheek, meant nothing personal, was the expression of sympathy for the ordeal she’d just been through.

  As Derek pulled Roger to his feet, she bent and picked up the metal strongbox that had saved her life. Together they walked toward Derek’s house. Roger moaned, his eyes darting wildly as if seeking escape, but Derek held him firmly.

  When they got back to the house, Derek tied Roger to a kitchen chair, called Junior, then motioned Belinda to the sofa. “Go on, sit and relax. I’d say you’ve had one hell of a day.”

  She sank onto the sofa and closed her eyes, willing away the tears that formed. The exhaustion that had plagued her before returned and with it an uncontrollable need to cry.

  She wanted to cry for all that Janice had destroyed when she’d set that fire years before. She needed to cry for the two children upstairs, children who had lost their parents and believed Belinda would be their mommy on earth.

  “Are you all right?”

  She opened her eyes to see Derek watching her. She nodded and flashed him a forced smile, then closed her eyes once again. No, she wasn’t all right. She loved Derek with all her heart and soul, but he didn’t return her feelings. He didn’t love her enough to want a forever with her. She wiped at an errant tear. No, she would never be all right again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The eastern horizon was just showing signs of dawn when Junior took Roger away in handcuffs. It had been a night of revelation as Roger had told them his responsibility in many of the near-tragic accidents that had befallen the ranch.

  He’d bragged about how close he’d come on so many occasions to hurting one of the women, railed at the injustice of his ultimate defeat.

  It had been frightening to listen to him spew his hatred of his father, more frightening that a man filled with hate had teamed up with a woman filled with passion to make a matched pair of potential killers.

  Derek and Belinda watched the patrol car pull away, the headlights fading into the predawn illumination. “Now it’s time for us to talk,” Derek said when the car had disappeared from sight.

  “What’s left to talk about?” Belinda wrapped her arms around her shoulders and gazed out into the distance. She was tired. So very tired. She had nothing left with which to fight her love for him.

  “Belinda…please.”

  She turned and looked at him. Although his face was drawn with lines of tiredness, he would always be the man of her dreams, the prince of her fantasies.

  “Come on, come inside with me,” he suggested.

  With a resigned sigh, she nodded, unsure whether the chill that suffused her was because of the cool outside air or the ache in her heart. “Where are you going?” she asked as he started up the stairs.

  “We’ll talk in the bedroom, where we can close the door and the kids won’t wake up.”

  Belinda hesitated. “Derek, if you want to rehash the past, then forget it. We can’t change anything and I’m too tired to fight.”

  “I don’t want to fight, either. But we need to talk, Belinda. You owe me that much.”

  He was right. She knew now she should have never kept the baby a secret. She should have told him, no matter what their personal circumstances were. She followed him to the master suite, where he closed the door, then turned to face her. “Why did you leave here tonight? Where were you going?”

  “Home.” She sat on the edge of the bed, averting her gaze from him.

  “Your home is here.”

  She shook her head. “No, Derek. I was fooling myself when I agreed to this tempora
ry marriage thing. I’m sorry. I know we made an agreement, but it’s one I can no longer abide by.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she looked at him once again. “I can’t do it, Derek. I can’t pretend anymore.”

  His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. “I didn’t realize pretending to be my wife would be such an onerous task. I didn’t realize pretending to love me would be so disagreeable.”

  Belinda laughed, surprised when it came out as a strangled sob. She was too tired for games, and it was too late for pride. “Oh, Derek, are you truly so obtuse? It isn’t hard, pretending to love you. What’s impossible for me is pretending not to love you.”

  He stood still, frozen as his eyes searched her face. “What do you mean?” He didn’t blink, didn’t move a muscle.

  “What do you think I mean?” she replied in resignation. She got up from the bed and went to stand at the window, where the sun sent pale gold shafts of light across the eastern sky. Dawn. The promise of a new day, but no promise of happiness for her.

  “I love you, Derek.” The words eased out of her on a sigh. She couldn’t face him, didn’t want to see his expression as she bared her heart. “I loved you three years ago and I think I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” She heard his swift intake of breath, but didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry, Derek. I know you were honest when you told me you didn’t want emotional entanglements. But I’m hopelessly entangled.”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper once again. “I can’t live the next year with you, wake up every morning with your arms around me, then walk away when the adoption is finalized. I…I just can’t do it.”

  It was only then that she turned to face him. He still stared at her, but the expression on his face was not what she’d expected. His eyes gleamed with a nakedness, no shutters to hide the expression there. Desire. Tenderness. And, yes, love. It shone from his eyes with intensity.

  “You love me.” Astonished joy winged through her as she recognized the expression on his face. She walked over to where he stood and placed her hands on either side of his face. “You do love me, don’t you?” she whispered.