Twin Seduction

Cash glanced at her. “Is there anything else you want to ask me?”

Jordan felt her face heat. Could he have read her mind?

Get a grip. Turning her attention to the road, she saw that they had started their descent down an incline. To the right, the land began to drop away.

“I’m assuming because of the dates on the marriage license and the birth certificates that my mother spent at least eleven months on my father’s ranch starting around twenty-seven years ago.”

She frowned. “Of course, I could be wrong about that. But they married a good eleven months before Maddie and I were born—so the marriage wasn’t because she got pregnant. You said you didn’t know anything about me. Do you think your father might have? Could he have known that there were two of us at one time?”

“He never said anything, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t know about you. My mother might have known, too. Your father could have sworn them both to secrecy. I’ve been giving it some thought. Ranch life is pretty isolated. It’s hard work, too. There isn’t a lot of time for socializing. So very few people might have known about you.”

“Can you think of anyone I could talk to who might have known about my mother and about Maddie and me?”

Cash thought for a moment. “Maddie’s foreman, Mac McAuliffe, has only been working here for ten years. Sweeney was around twenty-six years ago, but he never had any call to come over here. I was only three at the time and pretty much confined to the house. But there’s old Pete Blackthorn.”

Jordan dug her sister’s notes out of her bag. “I don’t think Maddie mentioned him.”

“She probably figured you wouldn’t run into him. He doesn’t stop by the ranch as often since your father died. They used to play the occasional game of chess together. I think Pete misses him.”

“Where does Pete live?”

“He keeps a trailer in a park south of Santa Fe. But he’s rarely there. Pete’s spent his whole life as a sort of freelance prospector. His great-great-grandfather worked some of the Navaho turquoise mines in the area. A lot of people believe that he has some old maps that were passed down in his family that show the location of some of the old mines. He certainly seems to find more than his share of turquoise.”

“Is he the source of those beautiful stones in Maddie’s studio?”

“He’s her only source.” Cash grinned. “Even when she was a kid, he used to bring her stones to play with.”

“I’d love to meet him. Not just to see if he knows anything about Maddie and me, but I’d like to buy some of that turquoise for Eva Ware Designs.”

“When I take you on a tour of the ranch the day after tomorrow, we might run into Pete. I’ve seen him frequently in the hills to the southeast.”

Jordan sent him a smile. “Thanks.”

“Are you up to riding Brutus?”

“I’d love to ride him.”

Cash glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned.

“What is it?”

“We’ve got company. There’s a van behind us that’s coming up fast.”

Jordan twisted in her seat. In spite of the brown dust Cash’s pickup was leaving in its wake, she could see the van clearly. It was black with dark windows. Sun glared off them as it closed the distance.

Cash eased his foot off the gas and pressed the brake. “There’s a couple of curves coming up that are tricky. No one familiar with this road would be driving that fast.” He pressed the brake again. “Maybe he’ll take the warning and slow down.”

The van closed the distance to ten yards, then five, then three. “He’s not slowing. If he wants to pass—” But he wasn’t trying to pass them, Jordan realized.

“Turn around and hang on.”

Jordan didn’t argue. She had a second to absorb the way the land fell away to their right. Then the van rammed into their rear bumper.

The impact slammed Jordan forward into the seat belt and had the rear wheels of the pickup fishtailing wildly. With her heart in her throat, she listened to them spin. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t think. All she could do was grip the seat with one hand, the armrest with the other and hold on for dear life.

6

TIRES SCREAMED and the truck then skidded onto the narrow shoulder. Dust and gravel erupted in a huge fan. Cash gripped the steering wheel hard as it threatened to rip out of his hands. Easy, he told himself. If he pulled too hard to the left, he’d send the car careening into the rock face.

“That wasn’t an accident,” Jordan exclaimed.“No. He’s trying to run us off the road.” Cash didn’t even consider lying. The problem was, the bastard behind them had a good chance of accomplishing his goal. At this point in their descent, the road was a narrow corkscrew, all sharp with angles and little or no shoulder. There was rock on one side and drop-offs to the right, some more sheer than others.

Once the truck was steady again, Cash risked a glance into his rearview mirror. The road had flattened a bit, and the van had backed away.

Jordan twisted in her seat. “He’s not so close. What are we going to do?”

Cash shot her a quick glance. “Hopefully spoil his fun. Want to know the good news?”

“Bring it on.”

She was frightened, but she was holding together. Another woman—perhaps even Maddie—would have panicked by now. “In my reckless youth, I did a little drag racing on this very hill.” More than a little, truth be told.

“So you know the road.”

“Like the back of my hand.” Even as he spoke, Cash pictured a map in his mind, just as he had as a teenager.

“So what’s the bad news?”

“I know the road.”

Two beats of silence went by.

“You’ve got a plan?”

“You bet.” It was a risky one. He hoped to hell it would work.

“What can I do?”

“Keep your eyes on the van. I need to keep mine on the road.”

“Done.” She twisted in her seat. “He’s about fifteen yards behind us.”

A sign flashed by with a warning of the upcoming double S curve. Cash was happy Jordan didn’t see it.

“I want to know when he’s out of sight.” He eased his foot down on the gas pedal.

“You’re going faster?”

“Yeah. He’s going to hit us again, but he’ll wait until we’re farther down the incline where the drop-off is steeper.”

“Good to know.”

He couldn’t prevent his lips from curving. She was a trouper. “There are two possibilities.”

“So he has two chances?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“He’s speeding up, keeping pace.”

“Good.” On the map he had in his mind, Cash pictured the two places on the road where the land fell away sharply. In the first, the ground plunged into a series of gulleys, each one lower and deeper. There was a chance of surviving. The second option offered a sheer drop-off. Nothing but air for about one hundred feet. Barring a miracle, death would be certain.

If the guy in the van was a pro, and Cash was beginning to suspect he was, he’d have scoped the route out and chosen his spot. The second one. Cash would have put good money on it.

But if his plan worked, neither of them would get that far.

He let his gaze drop briefly to the speedometer and saw the needle inch past sixty. He reminded himself that the truck wouldn’t corner as well as the car he’d driven in his teens. Swallowing fear, he took the first curve at close to sixty-five. His fingers dug into the steering wheel as he fought for control. The truck teetered briefly on two tires. After three heart-stopping beats, the other two slammed back onto the pavement. Heart pumping, Cash tightened his grip on the wheel and steered the pickup into the next curve. As his adrenaline spiked, his mind cleared, and he fine-tuned the image of the downward spiral of turns in his mind.

“Where’s the van?” he asked.

“Still with us.”

“Good.” He wanted his pursuer to keep pace. For now. In the most acute angle of the spiral, the back tires skidded, screeching on the asphalt. They slid onto a narrow line of gravel edging the drop-off and spun for an endless moment before gripping the pavement again. Then the pickup shot forward.

“Can you still see it?” Cash asked.

“No. Too much dust.”

Perfect. Cash was banking on the driver having to slow for a bit. But he didn’t glance back himself. Nor did he look to the right. He knew there would be nothing to see but air.

Eyes narrowed, body tense, he focused all his attention on the winding road, matching it to the map in his head as he zigged and zagged into the next two turns. He’d done this before, he reminded himself.

“There’s a bump ahead,” he warned Jordan. When the pickup smacked into it and shot into the air for a few seconds, the bottom dropped out of his stomach—just as if he were on a roller coaster. He recalled the thrill it had given him when he was younger. This time, he swallowed fear again. The truck slammed back onto the pavement with a bone-jarring jolt.

In seconds, they’d reach the steepest part of the incline. This was it. Gritting his teeth, he anticipated the next stretch. Hairpin didn’t even begin to describe the curves. “Hang on tight.”