and insisted no wife of his would have to lift a finger.
Pepper had been restless. She’d learned to ride a horse and spent most of her days exploring the ranch. That was how she’d met neighboring rancher Hunt McCormick.
She shivered at the memory as she spotted movement in the shadows next to the barn. Squinting, she saw that it was Enid and her husband, Alfred. They had their heads together and their conversation looked serious. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught them like that recently.
What were they up to? Pepper felt her stomach roil. As if her family wasn’t worry enough.
JOSEY STUDIED JACK. He seemed nervous now that they were here at the ranch. Was he realizing, like her, that his grandmother had gotten him here under false pretenses?
“As you’ve probably gathered, my mother was the nanny here as well as the mistress of Angus Winchester, my father,” Jack said distractedly, as he moved to look out the window. “According to my mother, they had to keep their affair secret because my grandmother didn’t approve and would have cut Angus off without a cent.” He turned to look at her. “As it was, Pepper cut him and the rest of her family off twenty-seven years ago without a cent, saying she didn’t give a damn what they did. When my father died, my grandmother didn’t even bother to come to his funeral or send flowers or even a card.”
“Why would you come back here to see your grandmother after that?” Josey had to ask.
He laughed at her outraged expression. “There is no one quite like Pepper Winchester. It wasn’t just me, the bastard grandson, she washed her hands of after her youngest son disappeared. Trace Winchester was her life. She couldn’t have cared less about the rest of her offspring, so I try not to take it personally.”
Shocked, she watched Jack study an old photograph on the wall. “If the only reason you came here is because you thought she was dying—”
“It isn’t the only reason, although I’ve been hearing about the Winchester fortune as far back as I can remember.” Jack smiled as he glanced at her over his shoulder. “She looks healthy as a horse, huh? I wonder what she’s up to and where the others are.”
“The others?” she asked.
“My grandmother had five children. Virginia, the oldest, then Worth, Angus, Brand and Trace.”
“You haven’t mentioned your grandfather.”
“Call Winchester? According to the story Pepper told, he rode off on a horse about forty years ago. His horse came back but Call never did. There was speculation he’d just kept riding, taking the opportunity to get away from my grandmother.”
Josey could see how that might be possible.
“When Trace disappeared twenty-seven years ago, it looked like he was taking a powder just like his father,” Jack said. “I would imagine that’s what pushed my grandmother over the edge, and why she locked herself up in this place all the years since.”
“So what changed?”
“Trace Winchester’s remains were found buried not far from here. Apparently he was murdered, and that’s why no one had seen him the past twenty-seven years.”
“Murdered?”
“Not long after his remains were found I got a letter from my grandmother’s attorney saying my grandmother wanted to see me.” Jack walked over to the window again and pushed aside the dark, thick drape. Dust motes danced in the air. “It was more of a summons than an invitation. I guess I wanted to see what the old gal was up to. Pepper Winchester never does anything without a motive.”
His grandmother had suffered such loss in her lifetime. To lose her husband, then her youngest son? Josey couldn’t even imagine what that would do to a person. She could also understand how Jack would be bitter and angry, but it was the underlying pain in Jack that made her hurt for him. She knew only too well the pain family could inflict.
The last thing she wanted, though, was to feel anything for Jack Winchester.
Nor did she want to get involved in his family drama. She had her own problems, she reminded herself. She pulled her backpack closer, then with a start realized there was someone standing in the doorway.
The housekeeper Jack had called Enid. Josey wondered how long the woman had been standing there listening. She was one of those wiry old women with a scornful face and small, close-set, resentful eyes.
Enid cleared her throat. “If you’ll come with me.” She let out a put-upon sigh before leading them back to the staircase.
As they climbed, Josey took in the antique furniture, the rich tapestries, the thick oriental rugs and the expensive light fixtures. She tried to estimate what some of the pieces might be worth. Maybe there was money here—if the ranch wasn’t mortgaged to the hilt. She feared that whatever had brought Jack here, he was going to be disappointed.
Jack looked around as they climbed the stairs, his face softening as if he was remembering being a boy in this place. There must be good memories along with bittersweet ones during his four years here.
Josey felt a sudden chill along with a premonition. She tried to shake it off. Why would there be any reason to be afraid for Jack?
They were led down a long, dark hallway to an end room. “Since you’re newlyweds,” Enid said. “This way you won’t disturb the rest of the household.”
Jack arched a brow at the old woman behind her back.
“I’m sure you’ll ring me on the intercom if you need anything.” Enid let out an irritated snort. “Dinner is served at seven on the dot. I wouldn’t be late if I were you.” With that she left them standing outside the room and disappeared into the dim light of the hallway, her footfalls silent as snowfall.
“That woman is scary,” Josey whispered, making Jack chuckle.
“Let’s do this right,” he said, surprising her as he swung her up into his arms. “In case anyone is watching,” he added in a whisper.
She let out a squeal as he carried her over the threshold, making him laugh. His laughter was contagious and she found herself caught up in the moment as he kicked the door shut and carried her into the bedroom.
The room was huge, with a sitting area furnished with two chintz-covered chairs in front of a stone fireplace. Josey caught a glimpse of a large bathroom done in black-and-white tile, sheer white drapes at the open French doors to a small balcony and, at the heart of the room, a large canopied bed.
Jack slowed at the bed, and as he gently lowered her to the cool, white brocade spread his gaze met hers. The sheer white curtains billowed in, bringing with them the sweet scent of clover and pine.
She felt as if she’d been saved by a white knight and brought to the palace for safekeeping. It would have been so easy to lose herself in the deep sea-blue of his eyes as he leaned over her. Jack was incredibly handsome and charming. Everything seemed intensified after what she’d been through. The hard feel of his chest against her breasts, the slight brush of his designer stubble against her cheek, the oh-so-lusty male scent of him as he lowered her to the soft bed.
She wanted desperately to blot out everything but this. It
