“Oh, I agree with you.” Rina laughed. “I can think of any number of hot women, but they all seem to be clueless.”

“Present company excepted, of course.” Gard grinned.

Rina laid her hand on Gard’s forearm. “Of course.”

“It seems your friend and the sheriff are a little more than friends,” Alice murmured.

“What are you talking about?”

“The sheriff looks like she wants to take a bite out of the good Dr. Davis’s neck. And she can’t keep her hands off her.”

“You sound envious.” Jenna was glad she couldn’t see Gard and Rina together. Imagining Rina leaning into Gard, touching her… She shook the picture out of her mind before Alice picked up on her irritation.

“I confess,” Alice leaned on her hand, her expression pensive, “I wouldn’t mind being in the vet’s place right now.”

Jenna fell silent as a waitress slid enormous platters of French fries, coleslaw, and triple-decker turkey sandwiches in front of them. Somewhere between now and the time Gard had walked away to join Rina, her appetite had waned. She picked at a French fry halfheartedly. She hadn’t expected to run into Gard again so soon, and she definitely hadn’t expected her heart to do a cartwheel the instant she laid eyes on her. Women didn’t affect her this way. They just didn’t.

“You’re muttering to yourself,” Alice whispered.

“I am not.”

“You don’t know who she is, do you?” Alice said, all levity gone from her voice.

Jenna looked up from her plate, surprised by the solemn note in Alice’s voice. “No, should I?”

Alice lifted her shoulder infinitesimally. “Probably not. You don’t pay attention to society news, and this was quite a while ago. Not that long after you arrived in New York City.”

“I don’t really want to hear gossip about—”

“It’s not gossip, it’s fact. If you don’t believe me, we can have someone in the office pull the newspaper archives. It’s all documented.”

Jenna schooled her expression to reveal nothing, but what was left of her appetite fled and her headache made a reappearance. “We all have pasts.”

“We do. That’s absolutely true,” Alice said. “But most of us haven’t been—”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Jenna said sharply.

“Damn it, Jenna. Your friend over there has a criminal past. Along with all the rest of her family.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Alice’s eyes widened. “Why not? You don’t know anything about her.”

“Yes, I do.” Jenna knew Gard had cared for her when she’d been hurt. She’d tended to Elizabeth even in death. She’d been nothing but sensitive. Jenna knew people and what they tried to hide, and she couldn’t believe Gard was dangerous or evil.

Alice shook her head. “Sweetie, just because she’s kind to animals and too good-looking to live doesn’t mean she can’t also be trouble. Especially for you.”

“We just met,” Jenna protested.

“Tell me you aren’t contemplating a little up close and personal.”

“I’m not.” She wasn’t lying—her runaway libido where Gard was concerned was not voluntary. Splitting hairs, maybe, but she didn’t need to give Alice any further ammunition.

“Listen,” Alice went on as if Jenna hadn’t said a word, “I’m all for you having a break. I know how hard you’ve been working. I heard what the doctor said. And if spending a few weeks in the mountains and having a fling is going to help you feel better, go for it. But not with her. The last thing your career needs is word getting around that you’re consorting with someone like her. Your image is too important and you’ve worked too hard to—”

“You can’t be serious,” Jenna said. “My personal life has nothing to do—”

“You don’t think so? Don’t be naïve. The economy has been in the toilet for two years, and publishers are suffering. Bad publicity will hurt you. The last thing publishers want is to invest money in a risky author. Believe me, at the first sign of negative press Edith Reynolds will dump the deal we have in progress and find someone else to make into a best seller. Is your career worth a couple of nights with a hot body and a gorgeous face?”

“No,” Jenna whispered, unable to lie about something so essential. Her career wasn’t just a job. Her career was her life. She couldn’t risk losing it. If she lost all she’d built as Cassandra Hart, she would lose herself.

Chapter Thirteen

Gard turned down the long lane to Birch Hill, planning to make a quick stop to check that Elizabeth’s—now Jenna’s—stock were doing okay before she went home. She hadn’t gotten by the previous night what with one call after another, and today had been just as bad. An emergency case of postpartum hypocalcemia had taken longer than she’d expected, and she’d just gotten the milk fever treated when two more calls had come in. The afternoon had slipped into evening and finally night while she’d finished up. Now it was close to ten p.m. As she rounded the last bend and emerged from beneath the dark canopy of maples into a night nearly bright as day under a full moon, she saw lights blazing from the Hardy homestead. The red Audi sat in front of the house. Of course Jenna and Alice would be together. Alice had flown up to support Jenna and was probably inside doing that right now. The thought of Jenna leaning on Alice shouldn’t bother her, but it did.

Disgusted with herself for begrudging Jenna the comfort, Gard pulled the truck in behind the Audi, turned off the lights, and cut the engine. What the hell was she doing here? And why should she care who comforted Jenna? She ought to turn around and leave. Get back to her life. She was reaching for the keys when a rap on the window stopped her. Jenna peered in at her through the driver’s window. She rolled it down. “Hi. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not,” Jenna said. “I…I didn’t expect to see you.”

Beam tried to climb over the seat from the extended cargo space behind Gard to get to Jenna. A wet nose raked across her neck.

“Beam,” Gard complained. “Stay in the back.”

The lab settled down with a mournful expression. Gard grabbed the hand towel she kept in the front seat to dry her hands after cleaning them with antibacterial gel, which she did frequently during the day, and swabbed her neck. “I thought I’d be sure the stock were secure for the night.”

“I checked them after dinner and they had food and water.”

Jenna’s face was luminous in the starlight, and when she smiled, something shifted in Gard’s chest. The shields cracked just a little and heat seeped into the cold core of her.

“You don’t need me, then.” Gard reached for the ignition key. She should have known her excuse to stop by was pathetic. She just couldn’t get rid of the tight ache in her chest that had been there since she’d almost kissed Jenna, since she’d had her hands on her. She thought maybe if she saw her, she might be able to break the crazy hold Jenna had on her. That sure wasn’t working—she was more twisted up than ever. Her insides seethed like a nest of hornets. “I’ll get out of here—”

Jenna grasped her arm through the open window. “It’s awfully nice of you to check.”

“I wasn’t sure if the neighbors were still coming by. After all, if any of the animals wander away in the dark and get hurt, I’ll just have to take care of them. Plus the chickens are a temptation to the coyotes. I want to make sure they’re in the coop.”

“Coyotes?” Jenna sucked in a breath. “As in…coyotes?”

Jenna tugged on her arm and Gard half leaned out the window. Hell, she felt like Beam, just wanting to breathe the same air as Jenna. Could she be any more pitiful? “We’ve got a lot of them.”

“Okay. Out of the truck.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going down to the barn, and I’m not going by myself.”

Gard laughed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I didn’t say I was afraid. I’m just…cautious.”

“All right.”

“And I still say it’s very thoughtful of you.” Jenna stepped back and before Gard could climb down, Beam shot out, ran twice around Jenna, then threw herself down in front of her, panting to be petted. Laughing, Jenna scratched behind her ears while Gard got her flashlight from a box behind the seat.

Gard held out her hand. “The track to the barn is pretty rutted. Watch your footing.”

Jenna hesitated for a second, then took Gard’s hand. Their fingers fit easily together. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing here so late?” Gard played the light over the worn dirt path that ran around the side of the house, past the back porch, and down toward the barns. The grass in the front yard needed cutting and her pants legs were quickly soaked with night dew.

“I wanted to get another look at the paintings before contacting an appraiser. Alice suggested I take some photographs to send along by e-mail.” Jenna hugged Gard’s arm to her side, leaning into her as they walked.

“Your leg okay?” Gard asked. Jenna wasn’t limping, but she wouldn’t—even if the knee was killing her. Jenna didn’t court sympathy or help. Thinking of her in pain made Gard’s stomach knot, and she wanted to slide her arm around her. Another excuse to touch her, and if she did, she’d just want more. Hell, she was like a horse in a grain bucket, unable to stop even though it was going to hurt later. She needed a dose of reality. “Where is Alice?”

“She’s on her computer back at the Peeper, taking care of some urgent business. I’m not her only client and she pretty much dropped everything to come up here.” Jenna laughed. “That motel is growing on me, which definitely means it’s time to get out of there.”

“She’s staying with you?” Gard tried to sound casual, but the picture of Jenna and Alice sharing intimate quarters sent the hornets buzzing out of her belly and into her blood. Christ, she needed some sleep or a drink. Something to calm the hell down.