Page 11 of Lie for a Million

Maybe she’d pushed him too far. What would she do if Roper left rather than give in to her demands?

But she already knew the answer to that question. She would grow up. Frank was gone, and she was on her own. She couldn’t depend on a man, not even Roper, to rescue her and take charge—especially now, with so many things at stake.

Roper was her employee, not her partner and not her lover. If he thought he could manipulate her, the man had a lot to learn. She had asked for no more than she deserved. He would play by her rules or go his own way—and if he did, fine. She would carry on without him.

As she neared the back door, thoughts of those stolen moments in the shed swept over her—his mouth plundering hers, her legs wrapping his hips. She forced the memory from her mind. When she faced Roper again, she would pretend that nothing had happened between them. She could only hope that he would do the same.

Otherwise, how could they go on working together? Maybe it would be better for them both if he left.

The kitchen lights were on, but there was no sign of Mariah, which was odd. Never mind, Lila had other concerns. She turned the lights off, then went upstairs to her room.

* * *

Roper drove out through the employee gate and turned onto the main road. Tires spat gravel as he headed for home, driving a little too fast. All he wanted was to get someplace where he could sort out his churning thoughts.

A jackrabbit bounded through his headlights. He swerved onto the shoulder and slammed on the brakes, barely missing the animal. The truck screeched to a stop inches from the edge of a steep-sided bar ditch.

With the rabbit flashing off into the dark, Roper switched off the engine and sank back into the seat. As his racing pulse began to slow, the encounter with Lila unspooled in his memory. He had never planned to make love to her. But at the end of a frustrating day, his restraint had snapped.

He wanted to stay. He liked being close to the family that needed him. He especially liked being in charge and the pay that came with the job—better than he could expect at a new ranch. Even Lila’s demand for a cut of his winnings was hardly a concern. Sixteen of the best riders in the world would be competing in the Run for a Million. Roper had tried to convince himself that he could win. But even on a top horse, the truth was he’d be doing well to make a respectable showing.

The trouble was with Lila. After what had happened tonight, how could they go back to their former relationship, which had worked as long as they hadn’t crossed forbidden lines? How could they work together now that those lines no longer existed?

Roper started the truck, then pulled back onto the road. In the distance, he could see the lights of the McKenna ranch. His younger siblings would be home for a few more days. Then they’d be back on the rodeo circuit. Would Cheyenne be going with them? That remained to be seen.

He drove over the creek bridge and through the gate, looking forward to his mother’s cooking and the sight of the four young faces around the table. Instead, he pulled up to the house to find Rachel, Stetson, Chance, and Cheyenne waiting for him on the porch. One look at their faces was enough to tell Roper something was wrong.

Kirby, in his wheelchair, was visible in the doorway. The dog crouched at his feet. There was no sign of Rowdy.

Dread tightened its grip as Roper climbed out of the truck. Cheyenne flew down the steps to meet him.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Roper.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Rowdy’s in jail. He was arrested in town for cocaine possession. Mom is fit to be tied.”

Roper released a breath. He’d feared some kind of awful accident. At least his brother was unhurt. But the boy could be in serious trouble.

Roper glanced up at his mother. Rachel stood ramrod straight between her sons. Her expression could have been chiseled in stone. She’d prided herself on raising her children by the Good Book. Rowdy’s arrest would be a bitter pill for her to swallow.

Beside her, Stetson stirred uneasily. Chance’s gaze was fixed on his boots. The two had probably been chastised for not keeping their brother in line. But something told Roper they weren’t surprised. If Cheyenne knew about Rowdy’s drug use, the others surely did, too.

Roper knew they’d been waiting for him to get home. As the firstborn, it would be up to him to handle the situation.

“Say the word, and I’ll go,” he told his mother. “If Rowdy’s bail has been set, my credit card should be enough to cover it and get him out of jail. If not, at least he’ll know we’re here for him.”

Rachel was dry-eyed, her expression still frozen. “Fine. Get him if he’s ready,” she said. “But don’t be too easy on the boy, Roper. Folks around here might not give us the time of day because we’re not rich. But I’ve always been able to hold my head up because I’ve raised a God-fearing family. When word of this gets around, they’ll click their tongues, look down their prissy noses, and call us trash. Rowdy has disgraced the family name, and I want to make sure he knows it.”

Tired as he was, Roper climbed back into the truck and headed for Willow Bend. His young brother deserved to have a strip taken out of his hide. But Roper, who’d battled alcoholism in his younger years, knew what a powerful enemy addiction could be. Rowdy was going to need support just as much as punishment.

At least one thing was settled. Roper couldn’t desert his family at a time like this. Tomorrow he would accept Lila’s terms, arrange for the stallion’s transfer to the Culhane Ranch, and try to make the best of a touchy situation.

A low, white stucco building housed the county offices, the police station, the court, and the jail. Roper parked in the visitor lot and accessed the jail by the rear entrance. The facility was small and showing signs of long use. Its open-barred cells were partly visible through a door that opened off the waiting area.

When Roper gave his brother’s name to the uniformed woman behind the counter, she nodded. “You can see him, Mr. McKenna, but there’ll be a short wait. We only allow one visitor at a time back to the cells. There are two people ahead of you.”

“Is there any chance I can pay his bail and take him home tonight?” Roper asked.

“I’m afraid not. His bail hearing will be held tomorrow morning. Then, depending on the judge, you can make the arrangements. Please sign the registry, then have a seat. You’ll be called when it’s your turn.”

Worn Naugahyde chairs in neon colors were arranged around the small waiting area. After a brief security pat down, Roper chose one at random and sat down. The next person ahead of him—a young woman leafing through a tattered copy ofPeoplemagazine, was seated on the opposite side of the room. She was extraordinarily pretty and petite, with doll-like features and a cloud of dark hair. She was dressed in a black motorcycle jacket, tight-fitting jeans, and high-heeled black boots.

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