JORDAN Page 5

  Her children, adorable little moppets who had taken a cautious liking to Morgan, had her look about them. Lisa had the same golden-brown hair, though long enough to be in a braid, and Adam's hair was pale blond. They both had brown eyes, not Georgia's gray-blue, but the intensity in their gazes was the same as hers.

  How the hell did she keep it all together? Between being a single parent of two young children, and her mother's health, not to mention the work needed on her house, she had her hands full.

  He couldn't keep his gaze off her and glanced at her again just as she rubbed one tear-filled eye with a fist. She'd done that several times, refusing to let the tears fall, never mind that she had good reason, that most women would have bowed under the stress of the night. Her makeup was an absolute mess, leaving dark smudges on her cheeks and all around her eyes. Jordan reached into his pocket and retrieved a hanky.

  "Hey," he said softly, and Georgia pulled her gaze away from her mother long enough to send him a questioning look.

  He reached over and used the edge of the cotton hanky to wipe her eyes. "You look like a Halloween cat," he teased, and she gave him the first sincere smile he'd seen. It about stopped his heart. In that moment, with smeared makeup, rain-frazzled hair and a red nose, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

  Taking the hanky from him, she scrubbed at her face, removing the worst of the smudges. "I hate this stupid makeup, but Bill insists." She grinned at her mother and added, "She gives me heck about it all the time. According to Mom, I look like a call girl. But then, I suppose that's Bill's intent."

  Jordan glanced at the front seat. Luckily, her kids were oblivious to the conversation. "What do you tell them?"

  Almost immediately her expression turned carefully blank. She adjusted the quilt over her mother's shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. "That I have to work. That I'm a dancer. They've seen Muppets On Ice and think it's something like that."

  She shrugged and Jordan suddenly realized she was still wearing only his coat over a very revealing, enticing costume. He wanted to curse his own stupidity. Why the hell hadn't he thought to grab her some decent clothes before they'd left the house? Everyone in the hospital would be staring at her.

  As if she'd read his thoughts, she said, "It doesn't matter." She leaned over her mother, saw that her eyes were open and alert and smiled. "Does it, Mom?" The older woman tried for her own smile beneath the oxygen mask, and gave one slight, negative shake of her head.

  Georgia sighed. "What am I going to do with you, Mom? You're just too darn good to me."

  Her mother gave her a ferocious frown, and Georgia's eyes filled with new tears. She laughed to cover them up. "No, don't yell at me. Just save your breath."

  Jordan couldn't bear to see her pain. "It'll be all right, Georgia."

  "Yes, of course it will." She looked up at him. "I just thought of something. You two haven't been introduced. Mom, this is Jordan Sommerville, White Knight extraordinaire. And that hulk driving – don't know if you got a good look at him, but he is a hulk – he's Morgan Hudson, Jordan's half brother and the sheriff of Buckhorn. Jordan, this is Ruth Samson."

  Jordan nodded his head formally. "Glad to make your acquaintance, Ms. Samson." He didn't bother to tell Georgia that she needn't have explained his relationship to Morgan quite so precisely. They'd all been raised together, and were as close as any full-blooded brothers could be.

  "Speaking of brothers," Morgan said from the front seat as he handed a cell phone over his shoulder to Jordan, "call Gabe and tell him to go sit on Malone. I don't want her up running around."

  Jordan took the phone, and then noticed the look of guilt on Georgia's face. Their eyes met and she winced.

  "I'm sorry you got pulled away from your wife, sheriff."

  Morgan blared his sirens for a second as he rolled through a red light, alerting any traffic and making the kids squeal. He said to Georgia, "Don't worry about it. Gabe can handle things. And Malone will understand. She's stubborn, but she has an enormous heart."

  "He's madly in love," Jordan said dryly, explaining away his brother's description of his wife. He dialed the phone and Gabe immediately answered. Jordan skipped the niceties and asked, "Who's with Misty?"

  "Lizzy's looking after her," Gabe said, then: "We've been waiting to hear from you."

  Jordan covered the phone and said to Morgan, "Elizabeth's with her."

  "Not good enough. Malone can bulldoze her. Tell Gabe to go."

  Jordan rolled his eyes. "Morgan wants you to go sit on Misty and make certain she stays in bed."

  "I will. But do you need anything? Misty said you were brawling at a bar or something."

  There was an undertone of laughter in his youngest brother's voice. "No, I was not brawling."

  He'd thought Georgia was distracted, but at his words, one slim brow went up. Jordan shook his head and explained as briefly as possible what they were doing. "We'll be at the hospital in just a few minutes."

  Gabe whistled low. "Damn. You want me to send Casey over there? He just got home from a date. His car is still warm."

  Jordan thought about it for two seconds. "Yeah, that might not be a bad idea." He eyed Georgia's mostly naked legs and exposed cleavage. Turning slightly away from her, he muttered, "Have Casey bring a change of clothes, okay? From one of the women." Then he rethought that and added, "Make it a big shirt, maybe one of yours or Sawyer's."

  "Chesty, is she?"

  "Yeah."

  Through an undertone of laughter, Gabe said, "I'll see what I can do."

  "Thanks. I imagine we'll be at the hospital for a spell, and I know Morgan would like to head home." Morgan heard him and said, "Hey, I'm in no rush." But Jordan knew that he was, that he wanted to be with Misty and Amber. A more doting father and husband had never been created.

  "Will do," Gabe said. "Tell Morgan not to worry – and if you need me just give a buzz."

  "Thanks, Gabe." He closed the phone and turned to Georgia as Morgan pulled into the hospital lot.

  She tilted her head. "Another brother?"

  "The youngest, and most recently married. With only one anniversary to his credit, Gabe still considers himself a newlywed. He's sending my nephew, Casey, here. I hope you don't mind, but I thought he could bring you—"

  "Clothes. I heard."

  She hadn't quite looked at him and it frustrated him. "Look, Georgia, I don't mean to criticize exactly—"

  She interrupted his awkward explanation. "Believe me, I'll be grateful to get into something different." She glanced down at her own breasts and made a sound of disgust. "I don't wear this stuff by choice."

  Jordan nodded, uncertain what he could say to that.

  She looked hot enough to tempt a saint, and he supposed that was the main reason for wearing the outfit on stage.

  To his surprise, she said, "Thanks for thinking of it."

  "No problem." With her sitting so close to him, and having so much skin exposed, it was a wonder he'd been able to think of anything else. "Unfortunately, it'll take Case a little while to get here."

  Morgan pulled right up to the emergency entrance, and what with his flashing lights and the earlier call, it only took about fifteen seconds before a stretcher was rolled out to the Bronco and Ruth was being taken inside.

  Georgia looked overwhelmed by the speed at which things were happening. She rushed to get her kids out of the car, trying to reassure them and keep sight of her mother as she was being whisked away.

  Jordan touched her arm as she started to lift Adam from the front seat. "Go on, Georgia." She glanced up at him, clearly distracted. "Get your mother settled and appease the hospital officials with all the paperwork they'll need. The kids and I will meet you in the waiting room when you're done."

  She looked at him as though he was insane, cuddling her children closer in a protective gesture and attempting to walk around him. Jordan moved to her side and kept pace with her hurried stride. Both kids stumbled along while staring up at him.
>
  Just as the automatic entry doors opened with a swoosh, he heard Morgan call out that he'd park and be right in. Jordan waved him off.

  "Georgia..."

  Her high heels clicked on the tiled floor. "Come on, kids. We have to hurry."

  There was a note of brittle urgency in her voice that tortured him. No woman should ever be put in such a position. Jordan again took her arm, this time pulling her to a stop. The children seemed fascinated. "Georgia, listen to me."

  Utter exasperation, exhaustion, and near panic filled her face. "What?"

  Well aware of the kids' engrossed attention, and at how close Georgia was to losing it, Jordan spoke softly, giving her a very direct look. "You can trust me, sweetheart. I swear it."

  She shook her head, her face pale.

  "We'll be in the waiting room," he added, ignoring her refusal, "just around the corner, drinking hot chocolate and watching television and talking." He reached out for Lisa's hand, praying she wouldn't shy away from him, and let out a breath when she released her mother and moved to his side. Her shy smile showed one missing front tooth.

  Jordan enclosed her tiny hand in his own. To Georgia, he said, "Did I tell you my oldest brother is a doctor? Well he is. Everyone at the hospital knows Sawyer, though he's always chosen to work from home, treating the people of Buckhorn. He has an office at the back of the house. His son, Casey, is the one who's bringing you some clothes."

  She looked around and bit her lip when she saw her mother being wheeled beyond a thick white door. A nurse stood there, papers in hand, waiting for Georgia.

  Jordan felt something against his side and looked down. Adam, chewing on the edge of his coat collar and staring up with big brown eyes, leaned trustingly against Jordan's thigh. His heart swelled with an indefinable affection. He put his hand on the boy's downy head and said again, "You can trust me, Georgia."

  She wavered, probably aware she had few choices, then dropped to her knees. Pulling the coat collar from Adam's mouth, she said, "If you have to use the bathroom, or get hungry, tell Mr. Sommerville, okay?"

  Adam nodded, then gave her a huge hug. Lisa was next. "We'll drink hot chocolate," she said, mimicking Jordan.

  Georgia's smile was misty. "Okay, sweetie, but not too much. It'll keep you awake."

  Adam tilted his head. "But we can't sleep here, huh?"

  "Sure you can." Georgia grinned, kissed him again, then stood. "There's probably a nice soft couch for you to get comfy on. If you get tired, just close your eyes and pretend you're at home. And before you know it, I'll be right back."

  Jordan watched her stride quickly to the desk, her legs looking absurdly long in the high heels. Her shoulders were stiff beneath his jacket, her hands fisted on the strap of her purse. Every line of her body bespoke tension and exhaustion and fear.

  A nurse, repeatedly looking Georgia over in her sexy costume, waited for her behind the desk. After Georgia had seated herself and began digging through her purse, no doubt hunting up an insurance card for her mother, Jordan looked down at the kids. Adam raised his arms and, without thinking about it, Jordan lifted the boy. He was stocky, more compact than his sister who looked almost fey she was so slight. Small arms wrapped around his neck.

  "Hot chocolate," Adam said, trying for an adolescent dose of subtlety, "sure sounds good." Jordan bit back a smile. It didn't make any sense and he knew he must be losing his mind, but despite all the chaos, despite the horrid situation and his worry for Georgia and his disapproval of where she worked, he felt good, from the inside out

  Probably better than he had in months.

  Oh, hell.

  ~ 4 ~

  CASEY PULLED IN the hospital parking lot and turned off the engine. He'd driven his father's car, a spacious sedan, rather than the truck he usually favored. As he understood it, Jordan was with a woman and her two children – too many people to fit into the truck. He was anxious to hear what story his uncle Jordan told to explain all this.

  But for the moment he was more concerned with how to handle Emma Clark.

  The truck, being a stick shift, would have guaranteed some space between them. But the car had bench seats, and Emma scooted much too close. She smelled nice, damp from the outdoors and sweet like a female. He was far from immune. She reached for his knee before he could open his door.

  "Just a second, Case." Her voice was low, throaty. "Why're you in such a hurry?"

  Very calmly, Casey took her wrist and lifted her hand away. She was the most brazen girl he knew, and the most insecure. It was something in her big brown eyes, something she tried real hard to hide.

  Twining his fingers with hers, he couldn't help but notice how small-boned she was, how her hand felt tiny in his own. "It's almost one in the morning, Emma." The parking lot was well lit, sending slashes of light across her features, making her eyes look even bigger than usual. "What were you doing out on the road alone?"

  She rolled one shoulder beneath the shirt he'd insisted she put on. He'd been left in nothing more than an undershirt, but that was better than seeing her traipse around half-naked. He still couldn't believe she'd been moseying down the damn highway so late, wearing her short white shorts, sandals, and a hot-pink halter top that left more bare than it covered. He'd recognized her world-class behind the moment his headlights had hit her. Of course he'd offered her a ride.

  Of course she'd accepted. Emma had been after him for months.

  "A shrug is not an answer, Em."

  She shrugged again, smiling at him and flipping her bleached-blond hair behind her. Casey assumed her natural hair color was a dark brown, judging by her brows and thick lashes. Although that could be makeup, too. She wore a lot of it. She looked ... brassy. Almost cheap. And though he had no intention of telling her so, she made him sweat.

  "I got mad at my date," she said in her low drawl, "so I took off." Her mouth, shiny with lip gloss that a few of the guys had told him tasted like cherries, tilted up at the corners. "Why d'you care?"

  Casey snorted at that lame explanation and defensive response, deciding not to question her further. At seventeen, Emma's idea of a date was to be picked up long enough to add to her already questionable reputation, then get dropped off again. He'd never understand her, but he couldn't help feeling sorry for her.

  Just as he couldn't help wanting her.

  "C'mon. I need to get inside." When he got out of the car, she scrambled out, too, and rushed around to him.

  "You're not mad at me, are you?"

  He pulled the bag of clothes from the back seat, sparing her a quick glance. "It's really none of my business, Emma."

  She looked hurt for a moment, then the shirt slid off her shoulder and his gaze dropped to her scantily covered chest. He turned abruptly away.

  She ran to keep up with him as he headed inside. Thankfully it had stopped raining, but the air felt too cool and still too damp. Water dripped from every tree, shrub and building. He felt a bit chilled. Or at least he had moments ago, before he'd noticed that the night air had caused her nipples to tighten.

  He wouldn't look at her there again.

  Once inside, he made his way to the waiting room, where he assumed he'd find his uncles. His stride was long, a little too fast, but a small smile curled his mouth as he remembered Gabe relaying the evening's events. His uncle Jordan in a fight? It sounded absurd, although he'd grown up hearing stories of the few occasions when Jordan had lost it, giving into his fierce temper. It wasn't something Casey had ever seen, but he'd believed it was possible.

  Jordan was just so...intense. Especially about things he really believed in.

  Or people he cared about.

  Casey rounded the corner to the open waiting area and stopped short at the sight of Jordan with a little boy sound asleep in his lap. There was a chocolate mustache on the kid, and he was snoring softly. Casey grinned. Jordan had a poleaxed expression on his face, as if deep in thought.

  Morgan sat on the floor opposite a tiny girl with a glass-topped cof
fee table between them, playing Go Fish. Casey had stopped so abruptly, Emma bumped into his back. His breath caught as he felt her soft, young body flush against his. Her hands settled low on his hips and she went on tiptoe, her warm lips touching his ear as she whispered, "Sorry."

  Casey ignored her.

  "Have I missed anything important?"

  Jordan glanced up, then raised one finger to his mouth, cautioning Casey to be quiet. Carefully, his movements very slow, Jordan removed the bundle from his lap and put the boy on the couch. He covered him with his coat. With a wide yawn and a little squirreling around, the kid resettled himself into a rolled-up lump and dozed off again.

  Morgan laid his cards down and pushed to his feet. "'Bout time you got here." He nodded to the little girl. "Lisa here is a card shark."

  Lisa – long brown hair in disheveled braids – grinned at what she obviously considered a compliment. Morgan tugged on one of those braids with affection. "Maybe she'll be gentler with you, Casey."

  Casey leaned in the wide door frame. "I dunno. She's got that ruthless look about her."

  Lisa looked up at him, blinked, and kept on looking. Like a natural-born flirt, she batted her long eyelashes at Casey and gave him a wide, adoring grin. She even sighed.

  Morgan turned to Jordan. "Would you look at that? She's only six and even she's smitten by him."

  Jordan grunted. "He's worse than Gabe."

  "Or better."

  Casey laughed out loud, well used to their razzing. "Kids just like me."

  Morgan looked at him from under his brows. "Females just like you, you mean."

  Casey shrugged. It was true, as far as it went. The females did seem to like him. Since he'd first become a teenager, they'd been after him. Not that he had any intentions of getting permanently caught.