“The one he was wearing...”

Cody was shaking his head. “He didn’t have a watch on his wrist,” he replied. “Nor a wallet. Go figure.”

“He must have stayed someplace while he was hunting me,” Tank said curtly.

“We thought he might have been staying in the attic of the cabin,” Carson added.

Cody sighed. “Well, we’ll give it a look, but the fire did catastrophic damage to most of it.”

Tank winced. “Merissa’s computer was in there. All her work.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Rourke said, joining them. He was grinning. “Forgotten already? I moved out her computer and most of their little personal keepsakes earlier in the day, and was going to bring them to stay at your ranch.”

“Great foresight.” Tank chuckled.

“I am known far and wide for my foresight, which is exceeded only by my striking good looks,” Rourke pointed out.

Carson rolled his eyes.

“We’ll need to contact the Red Cross,” Cody said.

“Why?” Tank asked.

“The women are going to be temporarily homeless...”

“They have a home,” Tank said, smiling. “We have three spare bedrooms.”

“Is that an invitation?” Rourke asked, big-eyed. “Because I’ve been sharing a room in the bunkhouse with him, and he snores,” he grumbled, glaring at Carson.

“I do not snore!” the other man said indignantly.

“Then you’re using a chain saw at night and you don’t remember,” Rourke countered.

“It wasn’t an invitation,” Tank told him. “You have to go home now. This case is closed. The would-be assassin is no longer a problem. Although I’m very grateful, to both of you, and your checks will reflect how grateful.”

“I didn’t do this for pay,” Rourke pointed out. “So don’t insult me.”

“Same here,” Carson added. He smiled, too. “Even famous attorneys do pro bono cases from time to time.”

“Some lawyer,” Rourke muttered. “Do your summations with a sniper kit, do you?”

Carson raised both eyebrows.

“If you ever get tired of working for Cy Parks, you can come and work for me,” Tank told Carson. “I’ll even build you a house of your own.”

“Tempting,” Carson said. “But Cy Parks would grieve for me.”

“He did an Irish jig when you said you were coming up here,” Rourke mused, “and he’s not even Irish.”

“Lies,” Carson said easily.

“I only lie when I’m asked to,” Rourke said haughtily.

Merissa and Clara came through a door, along with Dr. Harrison, who was grinning as he talked to Clara.

“Long time, no see,” Tank said and shook his hand.

“What an extraordinary coincidence,” the doctor said. “I brought a young man in with me who needed stitching up after a fight, and ran into these two.”

“He knows the resident on duty,” Clara said.

“I should, I taught him everything he knows.” He grinned. The smile faded. “I was sorry to hear about your cabin. If you need a place to stay...”

“Very nice of you, but the wives have the guest bedrooms all ready for them at the ranch,” Tank said. “And we’d better go. It’s been a long day for all of us.”

“I’d like to phone you later, if I may,” the doctor told Clara. “To see how you’re doing.”

“That would be very kind of you,” she replied. “Thanks.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He nodded to the others, smiled at the women and walked on to the desk.

“Ready to go?” Tank asked.

Merissa nodded. “I’m so tired. We both are.”

“It’s been an ordeal,” Tank replied. “But with a happy ending. Come on. You can ride with me.”

“You’re sure we won’t be imposing?” Merissa asked worriedly.

“How can you impose?” Tank asked with a smile. “You’re family, aren’t you?”

She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. “Oh, yes. Definitely family.”

He drew her under his arm and smiled.

* * *

THE WOMEN SETTLED in as easily as if they’d been born at the Kirk ranch. Merissa, who had a hard time interacting with most people, fit right in with Morie and Bolinda.

“It’s like I’ve known them all my life,” she told Tank when they were alone in his truck, driving back to the cabin to check out what was left of their personal possessions after the fire department and the crime scene investigators had done their jobs.

Clara had thought about joining them, but she knew Merissa wanted a little time alone with Tank, so she pretended to be too tired. Merissa had just grinned at her, because she knew better.

“I told you it wouldn’t be an ordeal.” Tank chuckled. He had her hand in his. He didn’t want to let go. He’d come so close to losing her, twice now.

“Your family is very nice.”

“So is yours.”

“Thanks.”

He pulled up just a little distance from the front porch. The kitchen was mostly scattered timber now. Half the cabin was almost intact, but there was a good bit of fire damage.

“Two deaths in so short a time,” Merissa said softly. “My father and now this horrible man.” She shook her head.

“But you and Clara are alive,” he pointed out.

She smiled up at him. “So we are.”

He got out and helped her from the vehicle. They walked up onto the porch and around to the back of the house. The ground was wet from the fire hoses. There were pieces of sharp metal lying around, and shattered glass.

“Careful,” he told her. “Don’t step on anything sharp.”

“I won’t...!”

He swung her up in his arms, laughing. “I’ll make sure of it.” He stared into her eyes with soft hunger. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me, all in one piece. I’ve never been so afraid in my whole life.”

She linked her arms around his neck. “You asked me to marry you.” She flushed. “I thought it was just because you wanted to, well, you know. And then you looked embarrassed and I said I didn’t want to get married...”

She stopped because he was kissing her. He did it very carefully, very tenderly, because she was still fragile from her brushes with death. “I want to get married,” he whispered, “more than I can even tell you. I wanted it then, but I got flustered and messed it up.”

She smoothed her hand over his hard cheek. “I lied. I want to marry you very much,” she whispered.

He carefully put her on her feet.

“Here.” He put a box in her hand, a jeweler’s box.

She opened it. There was a matching wedding set, rubies and diamonds. She caught her breath.

“I had that in my pocket the day I blurted out that we needed to get married. Ruined the whole thing.”

“No, you didn’t.” She took out the engagement ring. “Will you put it on, please?”

He smiled as he slid it onto her ring finger. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course,” she breathed, beaming up at him with tears threatening.

His lips nibbled softly at hers. “How soon?” he murmured.

“Yesterday.”

He smiled against her mouth. “Day before yesterday.”

“Last week.”

“Last month.”

“Last...year.”

The kiss grew longer and deeper and harder, and she moaned. That was when he stopped, because he could feel how weak she still was.

He lifted his head and cleared his throat. “We can get married. But we’ll wait until you’re feeling better before we do intimate things.”

She laughed shyly. “Okay. I mean, I want to do intimate things. But I’m still a little rocky.”

“I know. It’s all right.” He searched her eyes. “I want you. That’s part of it, for a man. But the reason I want to marry you is because I’m in love with you.”

“You are?”

“Oh, yes.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “When I saw that explosion and thought you were in the house...” He drew her close and hugged her, hard. “The world went dark. I thought I was hearing voices when you called my name.”

“I cussed.”

He laughed. “Yes, you did. I was thinking of ways and means to get to you, even if it meant finding my way across that dark line into death.” He lifted his head and sobered as he looked into her eyes. “I have no life without you. I have no future. No world. No home. You are everything in the world to me. And I will love you until I die. Even longer.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I will love you that way, too. Forever.”

He kissed the tears from her eyes. “Forever.”

* * *

THEY WERE MARRIED at the ranch, by the minister of the local Methodist church. Merissa was still fragile, but she wore a beautiful couture gown with silk embroidery over white satin, with Brussels lace and a fingertip veil. She carried a bouquet of poinsettia, because even though Christmas was over, it was still sort of a Christmas wedding, and they stood in the same room with the enormous, beautiful Christmas tree blazing with light.

Rourke and Carson had been persuaded to stay for the ceremony, after which they were en route to Texas.

The assassin was dead, but there was a faint trail leading back to Hayes Carson and even Carlie. The death of the district attorney in San Antonio was the key. But if the dead assassin had already hired someone to take care of Carlie and her photographic memory, time was of the essence. It went without saying that he could hardly call off the hit now that he was dead.

Carson didn’t say much, but Tank noticed that he bristled when anyone mentioned the fact that Carlie could be on the hit list. For a man who hated her, he did seem conflicted.

* * *

“DID YOU CALL Hayes Carson?” a drowsy Merissa asked on the first night of their honeymoon in Montego Bay, Jamaica.

Tank drew her closer, smiling. “I did indeed. He and the feds and Rick Marquez are working on leads.”