Dora whistled.

"I don't know whether the family was in financial trouble and needed quick access to cash a.s.sets. But Ellen's got two sons who could've helped her plan the murder and pull it off," Billy said, feeling his adrenaline begin to flow.

"Good," Dora said. "Now think of who might have helped Eve if she planned her own death."

Billy rubbed away a spot of perspiration that was worming its way down the center of his chest. "She used Russell Handy last time, but he's behind bars now."

"That doesn't mean he didn't help her. He was foreman at Bitter Creek for a lot of years. He'd know all about the hydraulic line on a helicopter and how to rig an explosive. He supervised anything and everything that had to be done on that ranch."

"But why would he help Eve Blackthorne now?" Billy asked. "She's the reason he ended up in prison."

"Why don't you go and ask him?" Dora said. "The sooner you find out who killed Eve and get Blackjack out of jail and back home at Bitter Creek, the sooner you'll get your wife back."

Billy stared at his mother in amazement, then laughed out loud. "Why, you wily old coyote."

"There's always more than one way to skin a cat," she said with a smile.

"I thought you didn't approve of Summer," Billy said, eyeing his mother.

"The girl's got gumption," Dora said gruffly. "Now how about helping me back to bed?"

Dora started to walk on her own, but she was so frail, Billy picked her up once they were inside and carried her into the bedroom. He tucked her into bed and then sat down beside her. "I don't want Summer back if she's only coming because there's no place for her at Bitter Creek."

"There will always be a place for her at Bitter Creek," Dora pointed out. "Even if Blackjack comes back. But maybe when he does come home, she'll realize that she belongs here with you."

"Thank you, Mom," Billy said.

"You're welcome. I only wish I'd spoken my mind sooner in the past. I wish..."

Billy pulled his mom into his arms and hugged her tight. "It's all right, Mom." He hesitated, then said, "I forgive you."

She sobbed once, but made no other sound, just clung tightly to him as they comforted one another.

Chapter 15.

WHEN SUMMER CAME TO SEE HER FATHER IN the Bitter Creek County Jail, she found he had company. Lauren Creed sat across the table from him in the visitors' room. It was difficult for Summer to face the woman who'd caused so much heartache for her mother and still be cordial. "I didn't know my father had a visitor. I'll come back later."

"I'll leave," Ren said rising.

"No," Blackjack said grabbing for her hand. His hands were cuffed together in front of him, and also cuffed to the table, so he was brought up short. "Stay, Ren. We haven't finished."

"Your daughter-"

"There's nothing Summer has to say that you can't hear," Blackjack said.

It was plain to Summer that whatever time her father had left before he was convicted by the weight of evidence against him and either executed or sentenced to life in prison, he was determined to spend with Lauren Creed. What was it about this woman that had so captured his heart? She wasn't nearly as beautiful as Summer's mother.

At that moment Ren looked up at her, and Summer saw empathy and sympathy and compa.s.sion. And a kindness that she'd never found in her mother's striking blue eyes.

Summer didn't want to like this woman. Didn't want to understand her father's choice. She turned to Blackjack and said, "I only came to tell you I haven't made any progress yet in finding out who helped Momma commit suicide."

"So you believe it was suicide?" her father said, arching a dark brow.

"I don't have any other suspects besides you, Daddy, and I don't believe you're responsible. Which only leaves Momma."

"Your mother had some help," her father said. "You need to keep hunting until you find whoever worked with her to frame me."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Daddy, because I've asked Billy to do exactly that."

Her father was silent a moment. "He agreed to help?"

"Not yet. But he will."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Blackjack said. "That boy hates my guts."

"True. But I believe in justice," Billy said as he entered the room.

"Billy! You came," Summer said, rising to greet him. She gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, as though he were some friendly acquaintance rather than her husband.

Billy slid an arm around her waist and lowered his head and kissed her like he had the right to do it. And didn't care whether her father liked it or not.

Summer was breathless when he let her go. She could have kicked Billy when he turned to Blackjack, his eyes hooded, his mouth curled in a sneer, as though defying him to say anything. And she wanted to kiss her father when he failed to rise to the bait.

"Pull up a chair," Blackjack said.

"I can't stay," Billy said, c.o.c.king a hip and setting his hands to his waist. "I came by to let Summer know that I'll be out of town for a couple of days hunting down the truth about whether or not you're a murderer."

Summer saw the dull flush rise on her father's cheekbones. "I'll go with you," she said, to forestall the eruption she feared was coming.

"What about Bitter Creek?" Billy said. "You told me you needed to be there to run things."

"I do. But I-"

Blackjack interrupted with, "Ren can relay any problems to me here in jail, and I'll give orders to the men what to do."

Summer stared at the pet.i.te woman her father seemed so determined to make a part of his life. Ren's eyes were lowered, but her hand clasped Blackjack's tightly.

"I suppose that will work," Summer said.

"There's no need for you to leave Bitter Creek," Billy insisted. "I can handle this on my own."

"I want to go," Summer said. "Don't bother arguing. My mind is made up."

"Suit yourself," Billy said with a shrug. "But I'm leaving now."

"I need to pack a few things," Summer said.

"You can buy a toothbrush, and I've got a clean T-shirt you can borrow to sleep in."

Summer stared at him, wondering why he was making this more difficult than it had to be. How much trouble was it to stop by the Castle and let her throw some things into a bag?

Then, like a light bulb going on, she got Billy's message. If she insisted on coming along, he intended to spend the night with her. She met his hooded gaze. And they weren't just going to sleep.

Summer realized she might not have another chance to make Billy fall in love with her. If things didn't go well for her father, she might end up having to stay at Bitter Creek. And the way things stood right now, Billy might very well refuse to join her there. She wanted the chance to convince him they belonged together, to make love to him one more time, in case they ended up apart.

"Make a decision," he said. "It's all the same to me. But today's Thursday, and if the courtroom stuff cranks up on Monday, we haven't got a h.e.l.luva lot of time."

Summer felt her stomach roll at this reminder of how drastic her father's situation had become. The grand jury was being convened on Monday, and unless she and Billy could come up with some new evidence, it wasn't going to take long for them to indict her father. They only had three days to find out the truth.

"Let's go," she said.

It wasn't until she'd walked out of the jail into the sunlight that Summer realized she'd turned her back on Bitter Creek without a second thought. She could tell herself she'd done it for her father's sake. But the truth was, she'd done it to spend three more days with Billy.

She got into his pickup, and as he started the engine asked, "Where are we headed?"

"I thought I'd start by visiting your aunt Ellen. She's the one who inherits the DeWitt fortune now that your mother's dead. Then I thought I'd head up north of Houston to Huntsville to talk to Russell Handy."

"Do you really think he could have anything to do with this?" Summer asked, her eyes wide.

"The only way to find out is to ask," Billy replied. "On the way back, I want to stop off in Houston and see your great-uncle Harry at DeWitt & Blackthorne."

"Why do you need to see Daddy's lawyer?" Summer asked.

"Because your great-uncle Harry is also the executor of your mother's estate," Billy said. "He may not tell us anything-like a priest, a lawyer has to keep his secrets-but you never know what he might let slip."

"It sounds like you've done a lot of thinking about this," Summer said. She turned her face into the breeze from the open window. The air smelled of the earth, the blooming mesquite, and the cattle that roamed the gra.s.sland. The hot wind tore the hair around her face from her ponytail, and she pulled out the band and let it fly free.

"Your nose is going to get sunburned if you stick it out that window the whole trip," Billy said.

Summer grinned at him. "Do you realize this is the first time we've been away from Bitter Creek together?"

"We didn't exactly spend our youths traveling in the same circles," Billy pointed out.

"None of that matters now," she insisted. "The point is, we could travel the world together. We could-"

"You're forgetting something, Summer. You didn't marry a rich man. You married me."

"You're forgetting something, Billy. You didn't marry a poor woman. You married me."

She resisted the urge to fill the silence that grew as he absorbed what she'd said.

"I don't want your money."

"Not even if it means Will would have a more comfortable life?" She put up a hand to cut him off. "I didn't say a better life. I don't believe money can buy happiness. It never made my mother happy, anyway. And it's been nothing but a burden to me. But the fact is, in two years I'll inherit a great deal of money from my trust. Think of what we could do with it, Billy. We could travel. We could buy more land."

"Your father's the first one in line whenever a rancher goes belly-up in Bitter Creek. I don't see us outbidding him. a.s.suming there is an us," he said. "I thought we agreed this marriage wasn't going to last more than two years. Has something changed that I don't know about?"

"Nothing's been changed but the subject," Summer said. "We're pretending, Billy. Playing 'What if?' So what if my father outbid us? We don't have to build an empire with land," she said, frustrated by Billy's unwillingness to join in the game. "Maybe we focus on breeding a better bull, or we start a stable of blue-ribbon quarter horses. What I'm saying is, my money can make it possible for us to realize our dreams."

"Your dreams," Billy corrected.

"Only because I've been the first to say them out loud," Summer countered. "Surely you've dreamed of what you'd want to achieve if money wasn't a problem. Fess up, Billy. What would you be doing with your life, if you'd grown up with all the advantages of a Blackthorne?"

He eyed her sideways and was silent for so long that she thought he was going to put her off again. But at last he said, "I think all my dreams were about how I could earn enough money to achieve my dreams. I never got much beyond making the money. Because I never figured I would."

Summer's throat constricted at Billy's admission. She'd never realized how little he'd hoped for in life. "The money's there, Billy. What would you like to do with it?"

"I'd want to be sure Will has funds set aside for college," he said.

"Done."

"I'd make sure my mother has the best medical care she can get."

"Done."

"I'd want to make sure Emma and the baby have everything they need."

"Done."

"And I'd want to fix up the house for you, put in some air-conditioning and a dishwasher and a decent washer and dryer. Maybe redo the bathroom and add another one. Paint the house white with green shutters and have a green front door. I'd put in some red flowers around the porch, and I'd plant a tree out back, so there'd be shade in the evening."

"Thank you, Billy," Summer said. "I'd like that. Now, what about you? What do you want for yourself?"

Summer had a feeling Billy had never allowed himself to want anything-so he wouldn't be disappointed when he didn't get it. She watched him struggle to voice the dreams he'd never allowed himself to dream.

"I'd want... I'd like... I want respect," he said.

"Oh, Billy," Summer said, her heart clutching. "You already have that."

He shook his head. "I want to be a respected member of the community. The kind of man other men tip their hats to. The kind of man women don't cross to the other side of the street to avoid. Money can't buy me that. I'm not sure I can ever have that if I stay here in Bitter Creek."

Small towns were unforgiving, Summer knew. Billy's past would always follow him. "It won't be as easy to earn respect here in Bitter Creek," Summer said. "But it seems to me it would be a lot more satisfying to prove yourself to the people who've known you all your life, who know where you came from and how you started out, than to a lot of strangers."

"Easy for you to say."

Summer felt frustrated by his unwillingness to accept the goodness in himself that she saw in him. "Look at yourself, Billy. You were always a hard worker. You always took care of your mother and your sister. You just carried a chip around on your shoulder and dared anyone to try and knock it off. And because of who you were, a lot of men tried. And n.o.body beat you, Billy. n.o.body. Not even Blackjack."

"I sold out," Billy said. "I took the job he offered me and ran as far and as fast as I could."

"No. You grabbed at a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And you made it work. When life threw you another curve-when Debbie Sue Hudson got pregnant-you stepped up and took charge and have a wonderful son to show for it. How can anyone not respect you, Billy? You're a strong, generous, loving man."