ranch a few more days.”
Tessa parked in front of Nan’s Beautiful Woman salon. Turning off the ignition, she faced her new employer. “There is nothing going on between Cord and me.”
“Oh, I believe you.” Nan nodded sagely in perfect understanding. “But would it hurt if you gave it a chance, honey?”
Tessa stared at Nan. “What do you mean?”
“Simply that love can grow in the rockiest soil if all the other conditions are right. Cord would make a fine husband and father. You’ll be a fine mother and could be a wife he’d be proud of. After all the years of searching, you could finally have a real family.” The elderly woman put a hand over Tessa’s briefly. Nan’s skin was warm, wrinkled and imparted caring, which felt like heaven to Tessa’s starved heart. “But you’ve got to allow yourself to be open to being loved, Tessa. If you push it away all your life by looking in the wrong places, you never will find it. You deserve to be loved, Tessa.”
She couldn’t look at Nan any longer. It was a benediction to hear that someone believed in her—and yet Tessa wondered if Nan’s faith was misplaced. “We’ll be late,” she said miserably, hoping to get the good-hearted woman off the subject of handsome Cord. She just couldn’t think of him too much. It would be wrong, wrong to fall into his arms when she was pregnant with his brother’s child.
“One of the perks of being companion to the boss lady is that you’re on my time,” Nan said cheerfully. “I get to work when I feel like it.” She opened the door, carefully setting her snow-booted feet onto the paved road. “I won’t bring it up again, Tessa,” she suddenly said with a backward glance. “I certainly don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. And I sure am going to like having a driver.” She gave Tessa an irrepressible grin.
Tessa doubted that Nan would be able to stay off the subject of Cord, but she knew the woman meant her no harm. Like the horse that was led to water but did not drink, Tessa did not have to fall in love with Cord.
It was as simple as that.
“SEÑOR COWBOY IS LEAVING.” Salvador put down his field glasses and looked at Rossi.
“He is guarding her.”
Salvador pulled a warm knit cap over his bald head. “She would have been upset last night when he went to her with the bad news about his brother.” He sent his companion a shrewd look. “It is all proceeding according to plan.”
“I hope so. I don’t want to freeze out here for days. Killing them both would be easier.”
“We won’t have to be cold much longer. If she is going to walk to the old woman’s house, she will be in the open and that is so easy, like—” Salvador snapped his fingers “—like that.”
“It’s daylight,” Rossi protested.
“What’s the difference? If he is out with his cows, he cannot hear her. The old woman would not be any trouble, either.”
“Could be yes, could be no.”
“Come on.” Salvador was impatient with Rossi’s lack of awe for his brilliant plan, which so far was working like a clock. Smooth, unhurried—and on time. They could snatch the girl and drag her out of the country quickly.
That would bring the enemy known as the Hunter out of hiding. Salvador smiled grimly to himself as he pulled on brown leather gloves. Or a brother for a brother would be a fair payment.
All he needed was the woman to bring the Hunter into the open again. The woman might not betray her lover willingly, but he could think of ways to make her do what he wanted.
CORD DIDN’T EVEN MAKE IT past the MP at the gate.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the regretful MP told him. “I can’t let you in without instructions.”
Cord ground his teeth. The kid was all of twenty-two, and this morning Cord was feeling every day of his thirty years. This young, crisply uniformed MP knew nothing about war while Cord had a war waging inside him. “Can’t you call someone? My brother’s old CO, Col. John West? I just want some answers. I only want to know if he’s dead or alive, for crying out loud. Is that too much to ask?”
“Try calling for an appointment, sir,” he said respectfully. But firmly.
Cord sighed, realizing he’d gotten as far as he was going to.
“I’m just doing my job, sir. I hope you find out what you need to know.”
The MP’s eyes held concern for an instant. Just doing my job. Well, Hunt had just been doing his job when he disappeared without a trace. And Cord was doing his job taking care of his brother’s pregnant girlfriend. He sighed through the pain in his heart, nodded at the MP, then circled his truck around to the exit. He couldn’t fault the MP for doing such a conscientious job. Hopefully, the military would be just as diligent in turning up his brother’s whereabouts.
All he could do was return home and place a few more phone calls. By then, he trusted he’d have figured out a way to convince Tessa that she was better off under his roof until Hunt was found.
THE TRUCK LEFT the base while the MP watched, his eyes no longer sympathetic but focused. He reached for the phone and dialed a number. When the call was answered, he recognized the voice. “Colonel?”
“John West speaking.”
“My orders are to call you if anyone should ask to see you. Civilian Cord Greer was just here. He is trying to locate his brother.”
He heard a sigh at the other end of the line. “Why?”
“Said he wanted to know if his brother is dead or alive, sir.”
“That will be all, Lieutenant. I’ll take care of this matter from here.”
THE LAST THING TESSA expected was to find herself in a salon chair under Nan’s ministering fingers.
“You need a day of pampering,” Nan told her firmly.
“I need a job,” Tessa protested as her employer gently pressed her head back into a sink.
With determination, Nan picked up the squirter and began rinsing Tessa’s hair. “Nothing like a new do to a lift a gal’s spirits.”
“My spirits are fine. It’s my purse that’s lighter than air. I really need a job, Nan.
“You’ve got a job. Relax.” Nan kneaded her scalp with soothing digs. “You’re too keyed up.” She leaned down to whisper in Tessa’s ear, “And stress isn’t good for the baby.”
Tessa gave up and closed her eyes. If she had to be a prisoner of Nan’s interference, at least it was in a beauty-salon chair.
I wonder if Cord likes my hair so long. Her eyes snapped open at the stray thought.
“All this blond hair is like sunshine in winter,” Nan told her. “Wasn’t that a poetic turn of phrase?”
Tessa closed her eyes again, unwilling to reward the woman’s romantic penchant.
“Relax,”
