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Once Forbidden...
Carla Cassidy
Johnna Delaney's hectic world stood still the moment she laid eyes on Jerrod McCain again–and her heart instantly leapt into motion. He was back in tiny Inferno, Arizona, to request an impossible favor–and to remind her of what might have been….If Johnna weren't the only defense attorney in town, Jerrod could have gone on devoting the rest of his life to trying to forget her. But seeing her again had awakened more passionate memories than he could possibly ignore–if he still even wanted to….



Johnna turned to leave the courtroom. That was when she saw him.
He sat in the back row, the only person left in the room. Shock rocketed through Johnna as her mind worked to accept his presence here in Inferno, Arizona…here in this very courtroom.
“Hello, Johnna,” he said, and stood.
Her first impulse was to run, to shove past him and escape. The very sight of him, so tall…so handsome, stirred old memories and deep emotions.
“Hello, Jerrod….” Nice…civil…as if she were speaking to anyone on the street.
But this isn’t just anyone, her heart cried out. This is Jerrod McCain, the man who had once owned her heart…when she’d had a heart to own.
Dear Reader,
The year is almost over, but the excitement continues here at Intimate Moments. Reader favorite Ruth Langan launches a new miniseries, THE LASSITER LAW, with By Honor Bound. Law enforcement is the Lassiter family legacy—and love is their future. Be there to see it all happen.
Our FIRSTBORN SONS continuity is almost at an end. This month’s installment is Born in Secret, by Kylie Brant. Next month Alexandra Sellers finishes up this six-book series, which leads right into ROMANCING THE CROWN, our new twelve-book Intimate Moments continuity continuing the saga of the Montebellan royal family. THE PROTECTORS, by Beverly Barton, is one of our most popular ongoing miniseries, so don’t miss this seasonal offering, Jack’s Christmas Mission. Judith Duncan takes you back to the WIDE OPEN SPACES of Alberta, Canada, for The Renegade and the Heiress, a romantic wilderness adventure you won’t soon forget. Finish up the month with Once Forbidden… by Carla Cassidy, the latest in her miniseries THE DELANEY HEIRS, and That Kind of Girl, the second novel by exciting new talent Kim McKade.
And in case you’d like a sneak preview of next month, our Christmas gifts to you include the above-mentioned conclusion to FIRSTBORN SONS, Born Royal, as well as Brand-New Heartache, award-winning Maggie Shayne’s latest of THE OKLAHOMA ALL-GIRL BRANDS. See you then!
Yours,


Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor

Once Forbidden…
Carla Cassidy


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CARLA CASSIDY
has written over thirty-five books for Silhouette. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance, and in 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series, both from Romantic Times Magazine.
Carla believes the only thing better than a good book to read is a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15

Chapter 1
“Johnna Delaney, you are out of order!” Judge Orin Wellsby bellowed as he banged his gavel to emphasize his irritation.
“And you are a cantankerous old goat,” Johnna muttered beneath her breath.
A white eyebrow rose and Judge Wellsby’s pale-blue eyes narrowed. “You are coming dangerously close to a contempt charge, Counselor.”
Johnna’s client, Susan Boskow, a twenty-two-year-old mother of three charged with shoplifting, frowned, obviously worried by the heated exchange between the judge and her defender.
Johnna was aware of Chet Maxwell, the overzealous, pompous prosecuting attorney grinning in smug delight.
She sighed and attempted to swallow her anger—along with the bitter taste of her pride. “I apologize, Your Honor. I guess I just got carried away with the zest of defending my client.”
Judge Wellsby, apparently mollified by her apology, banged his gavel once again. “Court is in recess until tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock.”
As the judge disappeared from the bench, Johnna said goodbye to Susan, then began shoving paperwork into her briefcase.
“Are you all right?”
Johnna looked up at the familiar voice. Kelly Linstrom, who worked as her secretary and receptionist in her law office, eyed her worriedly.
Slapping another bundle of paperwork into her briefcase, Johnna drew a deep breath to steady her anger. “That old coot should have retired ten years ago,” she exclaimed, her voice slightly unsteady. “He only sticks around so he can be a burr on my behind.”
Kelly grinned impishly. “I’m not sure who is the burr on whose behind.”
Johnna smiled tightly.
Kelly’s grin widened. “Hopefully you can finish this trial without spending any time in jail for contempt. Don’t you have your brother’s wedding to attend tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes, although from what Mark told me, it’s just going to be a simple ceremony in the church down the street.”
“I’d settle for a simple ceremony if only somebody would ask me to marry him,” Kelly said ruefully. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Bright and early,” Johnna replied. As Kelly left the courtroom, Johnna snapped her briefcase closed, threw her empty coffee cup into a nearby trash bin, then turned to leave the courtroom. That was when she saw him.
He sat in the back row, the only person left in the room other than her. Shock riveted through Johnna as her mind worked to accept his presence here in Inferno, Arizona—here in this very courtroom.
“Hello, Johnna,” he said, and stood.
Her first impulse was to run, to shove past him and escape. The very sight of him, so tall—so damnably handsome—stirred old memories and deep emotions, memories and emotions she had firmly repressed for the past nine years and certainly didn’t want to remember or feel now.
“Hello, Jerrod.” She was pleased at the controlled cool tone of her voice. “I didn’t realize you were back in town.” Nice, civil, as if she was speaking to anyone she knew.
But this isn’t just anyone! her heart cried. This is Jerrod McCain, the man who had once owned her heart—when she’d had a heart to own.
He shrugged those impossibly broad shoulders, his blue gaze sweeping down her body, taking her in from head to toe. She felt his gaze as if it was the caress of his warm fingertips, and she stiffened defensively against the invisible assault. “I’ve been in town a little over a week. I’ve been staying out at my dad’s place.”
A week. He’d been in Inferno a whole week and she hadn’t felt his presence, hadn’t instinctively known he was near. Good. He was firmly and forever out of her life, out of her heart.
“Well, it’s nice to see you,” she said with what she thought was just the right touch of airy nonchalance. She headed for the door, but he stymied her escape by grabbing her arm.
“Johnna, wait. I need to talk to you.”
She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t even want to look at him. She’d hoped he’d never return to Inferno, that she’d never, ever have to see him or talk to him again.
She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “It’s been almost nine years, Jerrod. What on earth could you need to discuss with me?”
“Erin McCall.”
The name exploded in Johnna’s head—the name of the woman who’d stolen any hope for happiness that Johnna might once have had. The name sounded like blasphemy on his lips, and she flinched as if he’d physically hit her.
“I guess you’ve heard she was arrested two days ago for the murder of her husband?”
Johnna refused to meet his gaze. “I heard. But that has nothing to do with me.” How could she not have heard? The whole town of Inferno had been buzzing with the news of Richard Kramer’s murder.
She pushed past him and walked out of the court-room and into the lobby of the courthouse, aware of him following close behind.
“She wants you to represent her.”
Johnna whirled around to face him, her heart banging against her ribs. “That’s absurd!” she exclaimed. “Why on earth would she want me?”
“She asked me to speak to you,” he replied, not answering her question. He took a step closer to her, his blue eyes compelling her to acquiesce.
There had been a time when a single glance of those deep blue eyes with their thick dark lashes had been able to twist her inside out. But that had been another lifetime. They held no power over her now.
“You can tell her you spoke with me and my answer was no.” For the third time she turned and walked away from him, exiting the building and walking out into the stifling heat and relentless sunshine.
To her surprise, he didn’t follow. She walked to her car, got in, then drew a deep breath as the trauma of seeing him again fully infused her.
She’d thought she’d forgotten his irregular features, the thick dark hair and sensual lips, the nose with the small bump and his mesmerizing eyes. She’d tried to forget everything about him, but now her head was filled with the sum of him.
There had been a time when she would have driven a thousand miles just to catch his scent—that wildly masculine, clean fragrance that emanated from him. And there had been a time when she’d have done anything to taste his kiss, to know the heat of his mouth against hers.
There had been a time…a long time ago.
She started her car and pulled away from the curb, attempting to shove aside thoughts of him. Her hands trembled and her heart still beat an irregular rhythm.
She glanced at her wristwatch and realized if she hurried, she’d be able to make it to the ranch for dinner.
And after dinner she’d have to put in at least three hours of work—work that had nothing to do with her cases or chosen occupation, but rather work she’d been forced to endure by the terms of her father’s will.
Bitterness swept through her as she thought of her father and his last will and testament. Adam Delaney had died almost three months ago, leaving behind a fortune in the form of a successful dude ranch.
Unfortunately he’d stipulated that all four of his children must work the ranch for a year, and only then would they be free to sell the place and split the profits. If they defaulted, the ranch went to Clara Delaney, Adam’s spinster sister, whom none of the Delaney children could stand.
Johnna hadn’t wanted anything to do with the ranch, but she’d agreed to abide by the terms of the will for her three brothers’ sakes. Still, spending twenty-five hours a week working the ranch, in addition to her work as the only defense attorney in the small town of Inferno, was taxing her both physically and mentally.
And now Jerrod had entered the equation. He’d probably lied when he’d said he’d been back in town for a week. He’d probably heard about Erin’s arrest and ridden back into town to her rescue.
Where had he been all these years? Was he married? With children?
Nine years was a long time, and yet for just a moment, when she’d first seen him, the years had faded away, leaving the taste of fresh betrayal and bitterness in her mouth.
She’d always thought that eventually they’d see each other again, couldn’t believe that somebody who had been her world, somebody who had marked her life, her heart, in such a profound way, could just drift away, never to return.
In all her imaginings, she’d always been arrogantly smug about how well her life had turned out without him. She’d imagined him as a convict, a drunk, a man whose life had been filled with guilt and unhappiness.
But he hadn’t looked wasted or dissipated. He’d looked vital and strong, successful and self-assured. She hated him for not looking like a man who had suffered.
Why on earth would Erin McCall—now Erin Kramer—ask her to represent her? Erin had to know that Johnna would not entertain fond feelings for her, that the betrayal in their past would forever stand between them.
As she turned into the entrance of the Delaney Dude Ranch, she once again consciously pushed aside thoughts of Erin…and Jerrod. They belonged in her past and she’d decided long ago that she’d never allow anything or anyone the power to hurt her again.

He’d blown it. He’d waited nine years to come back to Inferno, nine years to see Johnna again, and he’d totally blown it.
Jerrod McCain pulled into the trailer park where he had lived for the first twenty years of his life. And miserable years they had been, he thought as he pulled up in front of the double-wide trailer his father still called home.
He cut his engine, but remained in the car. Within minutes the exterior grew stuffy with the fiery end-of-day heat. Cracking open his window to allow in what little breeze there was, he stared at the trailer.
Few pleasant memories were associated with his time here. He knew there were trailer parks in other areas of the country where life was good and family values prevailed, where lawns were neatly tended and children’s laughter rang in the air.
The Inferno Trailer Park was not such a place. Rather it had been, and continued to be, a den of iniquity, a dark place peopled with miserable souls, bad choices and the torment of hopelessness.
Reluctantly Jerrod left his car. Although he knew the interior of the trailer would smell of booze and stale cigarette smoke, he also knew the air conditioner would be a welcome relief from the heat.
“Ah, my saintly son has returned.” Jerrod’s father sat at the small burn-scarred kitchen table, a bottle of beer in front of him. From the look of his red-rimmed eyes and the slur of his words, it certainly wasn’t his first drink of the day.
“Have you eaten today, Pop?”
“Not hungry.” Mack McCain finished his beer and shoved the empty bottle aside. “Did you get all settled over at the church?”
Jerrod shrugged out of his suit jacket and grabbed a skillet from the cabinet. “Yeah, starting in two weeks, I’m ready to begin converting the sinners of Inferno every Sunday morning.” He withdrew a stick of butter and a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.
Mack leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand across his grizzled jaw. “Still can’t believe it. My son—a preacher. Wonder what your ma would have made of it.” He frowned and stood unsteadily. “Think I’ll have me another beer.”
“Why don’t you have some eggs and toast with me, instead?”
Mack fell back into his chair. “I suppose I could eat a little.”
Dinner was a silent affair, and once again Jerrod’s thoughts returned to Johnna. Since coming back to town last week, he’d driven by her law office a dozen times, cruised by the small house where she lived just off Main Street, to catch a glimpse of her. He should have spoken to her then—before Erin had been arrested, before he needed Johnna.
There had been a time when Johnna Delaney had been his lamp, the shining beacon that had pierced the darkness that was his life. He’d been nineteen and she’d been eighteen, and neither had been prepared for the passion, the wealth of emotion that had exploded between them.
He shoved the thoughts away, not wanting to remember the Johnna of his youth—so soft and warm, so sweetly giving. She’d been needy, and so had he. It had been a need greater than mere sex, stronger than loneliness. For a while they had assuaged that need with each other, and for a while it had been wonderful.
He cleaned up the dinner dishes, then realized his father had fallen asleep—or passed out—in his easy chair. Some things never change, Jerrod thought as he helped his father from the chair to the bedroom.
His father had been a drunk since the day Jerrod’s mother had walked out on them. Jerrod had been seven, and he’d watched his father crawl into the bottom of a bottle and never crawl out.
He’d hoped things would change in the years he’d been gone. He’d written his father often, sent money on a regular basis and hoped the man would find the strength to build a life for himself. Instead, Mack had merely continued to mourn for a woman long gone and a love that hadn’t lasted.
“You shouldn’t have come back here, boy,” Mack muttered as Jerrod covered him with the sheet. “This place will suck the life from you. You should have stayed away.”
Jerrod started to reply, then realized Mack had fallen back asleep. He left the bedroom, fixed himself a glass of iced tea, then stepped out the front door and into the simmering evening air.
The old wicker chair on the porch gave a familiar creak as he sank into it. He sipped his tea, his gaze focused on the trailer across the way. At one time it had been where Erin McCall and her mother had lived. During the time Jerrod had been away, Erin had surprised everyone. She’d finally made her way out of the trailer park by marrying Richard Kramer, one of the most affluent businessmen in town.
Jerrod had received a wedding announcement from Erin, along with a chatty letter telling him she’d finally found happiness. And now she was facing life in prison for the murder of her husband. What on earth had happened?
He took a long swallow of his tea and smiled as a dusty old Ford pulled up in front of the place. He set his glass down on the porch and stood as an old man climbed out of the car.
“Uncle Cyrus.” He greeted the man with a warm embrace.
“I go away for a week and return to find my favorite nephew has finally come back home where he belongs.”
Jerrod motioned to the wicker chair across from where he’d been sitting. “Want something to drink? Some tea or lemonade?”
Cyrus shook his head and eased himself down into the chair. “Nah, I’m fine. How you doing, boy? You look good.”
“Thanks.”
“You seen Johnna Delaney yet?”
Jerrod laughed dryly. “You never were one to waste time or mince words, Uncle Cyrus.”
Cyrus McCain was the only person on earth who knew everything that had happened between Jerrod and Johnna so many years ago. It had been with Cyrus’s help that Jerrod had left the trailer park, Inferno and Johnna behind.
“I’m seventy years old, boy. I don’t have time to mince words.”
Jerrod leaned back in his chair and picked up his tea. “Yeah, I’ve seen her.” A vision of Johnna filled his mind.
For a moment he remembered her as he’d known her nine years ago. Then her hair had been long and thick and her eyes had been a soft ash-gray, which only hardened when she spoke of her father, Adam.
Today there had been no hint of softness about her. Her hair was almost boyishly short, and yet the style emphasized the sharp angles of her face, the fullness of her lower lip and the beauty of her eyes—eyes that no longer held any softness or vulnerability.
“She looks good,” he finally said.
Cyrus nodded. “She’s got that strong Delaney bone structure. I imagine she’ll always be quite an attractive woman.”
Jerrod frowned. “Have you heard about Erin?”
“I stopped in at the diner for some supper on my way back into town, and the whole place was buzzing with the news.” Cyrus shook his head. “Somebody should have seen that marriage was a train wreck waiting to happen. Everyone in town knew Richard beat the hell out of Erin on a regular basis. I suppose she just decided to give it right back to him.”
Jerrod took a sip of his now tepid tea. “She says she didn’t kill him.”
Cyrus raised a white eyebrow. “And I’m a fairy princess,” he said.
Jerrod ignored him. “I asked Johnna to defend Erin today.”
Cyrus stared at him in disbelief. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“No, no kidding. Erin wants her.”
“Did she tell you to kiss her—”
“She told me no,” Jerrod said before Cyrus could finish.
“What did you expect her to say? You cheated on Johnna with Erin.”
Jerrod’s stomach knotted and a wave of guilt swept through him. Guilt that the years had done nothing to assuage. After years of soul-searching he’d thought he’d finally learned to forgive himself, but apparently it wasn’t total absolution. “That was a long time ago.”
“Matters of the heart don’t know nothin’ about time,” Cyrus observed. “Your dad is a perfect example of that. The wound is still as fresh today as it was that Saturday morning when your ma left him.”
“My father is a fool,” Jerrod said with a touch of harshness. “No woman is worth that kind of suffering.”
Cyrus said nothing. For a few moments the two men simply sat in comfortable silence. As Jerrod gazed at the man who was his father’s older brother, a burst of affection swept through him.
There had been many times when Jerrod had wondered what might have become of him if not for Cyrus’s presence in his life. It had been Cyrus who had listened to Jerrod’s tales of woe as he’d been growing up, Cyrus who had helped ease the absence of his mother. And Cyrus who had, on the night Jerrod had left Inferno, shoved a handful of money and a Dallas address into his pocket and told him to make something of himself.
And he had. Although the last thing he would have believed when he’d left Inferno so long ago was that he’d eventually become a minister, that was exactly what he’d become.
“I’d better get on home,” Cyrus said as he rose from the chair. “I’ve spent the better part of the day driving home from the cabin, and these old bones are telling me it’s time for a hot shower and my bed.”
Jerrod stood, as well, and walked his uncle to his car. Again the two men embraced. “Thanks, Uncle Cyrus.”
“For what?”
Jerrod smiled. “For everything.”
Cyrus waved his hands in dismissal of Jerrod’s gratitude. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as he climbed into the car.
A moment later Jerrod watched the old Ford disappear from sight. He returned to the porch, watching as the night shadows claimed the last of the sun.
Again his thoughts turned to Johnna.
He had betrayed her nine years ago and he’d lived every day of the time since regretting it. But she had betrayed him, too.
She’d allowed him to believe it didn’t matter where he came from, that it didn’t matter that she was a have and he was a have-not. She’d told him she loved him, but her parting words to him had revealed the truth.
He couldn’t be certain of the forces that had brought him back to Inferno, but he steadfastly refused to believe one of those forces was any lingering feeling for Johnna Delaney.
The only thing he wanted from her was help for Erin. They had played at love once, but both of them had broken the rules. He didn’t intend to play the game with her again.

Chapter 2
“Johnna was running late. Susan Boskow’s shoplifting trial had ended at five. The accused had received a sentence of probation and the promise that in the future if she found herself unable to feed her children, she’d reach out to the variety of agencies available for help.
Johnna’s brother’s wedding was set to take place at five, and she hurried from the courthouse, running down the street toward the tiny Methodist Church where Mark Delaney and his intended bride had chosen to be married.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she flew into the small sanctuary where her brothers all stood, looking hopelessly ill at ease and out of place.
“You aren’t late—the bride-to-be is,” Luke said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “She probably came to her senses and decided marrying Mark was a big mistake.”
Mark looked stricken and Matthew frowned irritably. “Knock it off, Luke,” he said sternly. “Mark is nervous enough without your comments.”
The beginnings of a headache banged above Johnna’s right eye. “As usual, I see we’re acting like one big happy family,” she said irritably.
In the three months since their father’s death, the four siblings had already faced an enormous hurdle. Mark had been attacked and a ranch worker had been killed in order to protect an illegal-alien smuggling ring that had been operating from the ranch.
The guilty had been arrested, including the family lawyer, who had been the executor of their father’s will. A new lawyer had been retained, several ranch hands had been fired, and somehow in the middle of all the chaos, love had blossomed between Mark and April Cartwright, the woman who’d been hired as social director for the ranch.
The shared trauma had initially forged a fragile bond among the Delaney children as they united to fight an outside foe, but that bond was stretched thin as the need to unite passed and they were once again left to deal with one another without the tools necessary. They had not been taught how to interact with one another. A basic mistrust had been instilled in each of them, along with enough emotional baggage to last a lifetime.
God bless Adam Delaney. He’d been a shrewd businessman, one hell of a rancher, but he’d been a cold, mean-spirited man who’d taught his children nothing about love or family.
Mark looked as handsome as Johnna had ever seen him. He was clad in a black suit with a crisp white shirt. In fact, all her brothers looked exceptionally handsome without their trademark jeans and cowboy hats.
Mark eyed his watch worriedly, and at that moment April and her son, Brian, flew in. Mark’s eyes flamed with an intensity so bright, so hot, Johnna felt the burn in the pit of her stomach.
Would a man ever look at her with such tenderness, such longing? A wistful yearning pierced her. Mark wore his love for April on his features—in the shine of his eyes and the curve of his lips.
Jerrod once looked at me that way. The thought snaked its way into her head and she shoved it away, knowing it was a false memory. She’d only believed that was the way Jerrod had looked at her. But it had all been a lie.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” April said, looking lovely in a beige linen suit that emphasized her blond coloring. She smiled and took Mark’s hands in hers. “Brian lost his dress shoes,” she explained.
The eleven-year-old boy held out a foot, displaying his cowboy boots. “Those old shoes were too small, anyway. Besides, I told Mom you wouldn’t care if I wore my boots.”
Mark laughed, the worried lines that had creased his forehead gone. “I wouldn’t have cared if you showed up barefoot,” he said.
The church secretary stuck her head in the door that led to the small office. “Oh, good, I see you’re all ready.”
“All we need is the preacher man,” Luke replied.
“He’ll be right with you all,” she replied.
Before anyone could say another word, the office door opened and Jerrod McCain stepped out wearing a black minister’s robe.
For a moment Johnna thought this was some sort of dreadful joke. Seeing Jerrod in preacher robes was like seeing Santa Claus without his beard—it didn’t fit.
She’d had no time to gather her defenses, to steel herself for the assault of seeing him again. She hadn’t remembered his shoulders being quite so wide, his hair so rich and thick and his eyes such a piercing shade of blue.
She was suddenly aware of the run in her hose, the drab gray of her suit and the knowledge that her hair was probably standing on end.
As his gaze met hers, she raised her chin and refused to look away, hoping she conveyed a cool confidence and indifference that belied the tumultuous emotions racing inside her.
Finally he broke the gaze, moving to greet each of her brothers and the prospective bride. To Johnna’s relief, the ceremony began almost immediately.
As Jerrod spoke the words that would bind her brother and April together as husband and wife, Johnna tried to defend herself against the wave of memories that assailed her.
At one time she and Jerrod had talked of wedding vows and marriage. They’d spoken of forever and always, and for the very first time in Johnna’s life, she’d felt valued…wanted.
It hadn’t mattered that her father hated her, that he’d been bitterly disappointed that she hadn’t been another son. It hadn’t mattered that he had never forgiven her for surviving a difficult birth while his wife had died. None of it had mattered as long as Jerrod loved her.
Lies, she thought bitterly. All smoke and mirrors. No substance…no truth. Any love she might have entertained for Jerrod, despite the lies and betrayal, had died an irreversible death on the day she had buried Miranda.
She shoved these thoughts aside, refusing to go to the dark places in her soul where she mourned the baby girl she had lost. Although her brothers knew she’d lost a baby years ago, none of them had known the depth of her grief. She’d never shared that with anyone.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Jerrod said, his deep voice bringing Johnna firmly back to the present.
“And son,” Brian quipped, his face beaming with happiness.
Mark laughed and ruffled Brian’s hair. “And son,” he agreed.
“You gonna kiss the bride, or do I get to do it for you?” Luke asked.
Mark gathered April into his arms. “I think, dear brother, this is a job I can handle all by myself.”
As he kissed his new bride, Johnna was once again filled with a bittersweet wistfulness. She hardened herself against it, hating herself for entertaining any weakness or desire for anything remotely resembling love.
Fortunately, the congratulations were over quickly. Mark and April departed for a one-night stay at a bed-and-breakfast in town. Brian left with Matthew to return to the ranch, where he was spending the night with a friend.
Luke scurried out, probably in anticipation of a hot date, and Johnna headed for the door with him, unwilling to be left in the small church with Jerrod.
She needed time to think, and she headed to the place where she’d always done her best thinking. In the lobby of the courthouse, she stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the top floor.
When she reached that floor, she headed for the stairs that led up to the roof. She shoved open the door and stepped out, at the same time drawing in a deep breath of the hot arid air.
She walked over to the five-foot-high wall that surrounded the flat roof and peered out onto the streets of the small town.
The four-story courthouse was the tallest building in Inferno, and it was here on this very roof that fantasies had been spun and dreams had been dreamed.
There were many people who cursed the Inferno heat, but Johnna had always loved it. She shrugged out of her suit jacket, closed her eyes and allowed the hot air to embrace her.
Jerrod, a minister. How on earth had the man who she’d once believed had probably invented sin become a man of God? It simply didn’t compute.
“I thought I might find you here.”
She stiffened but didn’t move, refused to turn around to face him.
“You always loved it up here.”
She sensed his approach, knew when he stood just behind her, for his familiar, masculine fragrance seemed to wrap itself around her. “I still love it up here,” she said. “I’ve always considered this my own little piece of the world, and at the moment I consider you a trespasser.”
He was silent for a moment, then said, “I was once invited into your little piece of the world.”
“That was a long time ago.” She turned to face him. He’d shed his robe and now wore a pair of worn jeans and a white T-shirt that emphasized his bronzed skin and the sharp blue of his eyes.
“Yeah, it was a long time ago,” he agreed easily, and moved to stand next to her.
For a long moment they stood side by side, staring out over the ledge. Although she didn’t want to talk to him, she couldn’t help the curiosity that surged up inside her. When he had left Inferno, where had he gone? What had prompted him to become a minister? How had he made it through college?
“I guess congratulations are in order,” she finally said. “You’ve come a long way.”
“For trailer trash, I’ve done all right.”
Heat that had nothing to do with the outside temperature warmed her face as she remembered the hurtful words she’d flung at him the last time she’d seen him.
But she would not apologize. Instead, she sighed wearily. “Why did you follow me up here, Jerrod? What do you want from me?”
“Because I needed to talk to you, because I want you to reconsider your decision about Erin.”
She looked at him once again. “I can’t imagine why she would want me to represent her.”
“I can tell you why.” Again his gaze bore steadily into hers. “She told me if she can make you see she’s innocent, then she feels like she can convince everyone. She also knows you aren’t part of the good-old-boy network and that you’re a true advocate for your clients.”
“I’m glad she has such a fine opinion of me, but that doesn’t change my mind.”
“I would think that you’d jump at the opportunity to defend an innocent woman in a murder case. It’s what you talked about years ago when we’d sit up here and talk about our futures.”
But not Erin McCall. Her heart rebelled at the thought. Anyone but Erin, she thought. “She can probably afford any lawyer in the state.”
“She wants you.” He paused a moment and raked a hand through his thick dark hair. The gesture was instantly familiar as she remembered he’d always done that when battling frustration. “Is this about what happened nine years ago? Johnna, please don’t punish Erin for my mistakes.”
She looked away from him, hoping he couldn’t see how his words arrowed right to the heart of the matter. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “I got over what happened between us a long time ago.” She looked back at him and asked dryly, “Did you really believe that somehow I’d spent the last nine years holding a grudge and mourning?”
“No, but I thought perhaps there might have been times when you thought of me. I know there were times when I thought of you.”
His words seemed to burrow deep inside her and find the small place that held all her pain. Damn him. Damn him for coming back here.
“Look, I’ll talk to Erin,” she said. “Okay?” She just wanted Jerrod to leave, to go away and leave her alone. “I’ll make an appointment and meet with her first thing tomorrow morning. Understand, I’m not making any promises. I’m just agreeing to talk to her.”
“I appreciate it, Johnna.”
“Good, then our business is concluded and I’d like some time alone, if you don’t mind.” She turned back to stare down into the streets.
She relaxed only when she heard his footsteps receding, then the soft closing of the door that led off the roof. She’d lied. She had held a grudge for the past nine years. She’d never completely gotten over Jerrod’s betrayal.
She still mourned the loss of the dreams and fantasies they’d spun together in the blissful optimism of youth. There were moments in the long dark nights when she ached for the feel of his strong arms around her, his mouth pressed firmly to hers.
But she knew her loss had made her strong. Just like her painful childhood with her miserable father had made her strong. She neither wanted nor needed any man in her life. She was best alone…and alone was exactly how she intended to stay.
Jerrod might have forgiven himself for what he’d done to her years ago. God might have even forgiven him. But that didn’t mean she intended to. There were some things that were simply unforgivable.

Jerrod sat in the tiny lobby area of the Inferno police station, waiting for Johnna to show up for her 9 a.m. appointment with Erin Kramer.
“Sure you don’t want a cup of coffee?” Sheriff Jeffrey Broder asked from his desk in the corner.
“No, thanks, I’m fine,” Jerrod replied. He shifted positions on the wooden chair, his thoughts drifting back to his conversation with Johnna the evening before.
For trailer trash, I’ve done all right. He winced as he remembered saying the words. He’d sounded childish and petulant even to his own ears.
He’d believed he’d long ago worked through the baggage of that childhood label. But never had that name hurt more than when it had fallen from Johnna’s lips so many years ago. They had been words that had destroyed his illusions of her, of his place in this town, but most of all, they had destroyed the illusions he had of himself.
But he was no longer the rebellious trash that had blown out of town with a chip on his shoulder and rage burning in his soul. He was now a man at peace.
He’d found his true vocation and had gotten a college degree. At the moment, however, more than anything he was a man who didn’t want to see a dear childhood friend spend the rest of her life in prison for a crime he truly believed she wouldn’t, couldn’t commit.
He stood as Johnna swept in. He could tell by the narrowing of her eyes that she was not particularly happy to see him. Clad in a pair of tight jeans that emphasized her long, slender legs, and a biscuit-colored blouse that accentuated her dark hair and tanned face, she looked lovely, but tense.
“What are you doing here?” she asked with more than a little edge to her voice.
“I thought maybe I could help.”
“I don’t need help. I haven’t even agreed to do anything other than speak to her.” She nodded to Sheriff Broder. “Hi, Jeffrey.”
“Johnna,” he said as he rose from his desk. “Erin is our only prisoner at the moment, but I figured you’d be more comfortable in the conference room.”
“Thanks, Jeffrey. The conference room will be fine.” She looked back at Jerrod, her eyes an impenetrable smoke gray. “You’re here. I suppose you might as well come on back with me.” The invitation was not given graciously, but rather grudgingly.
Broder led them through the doors that led to the back of the police station and into a small conference room with a locked steel door. He opened the door and gestured them in. “I’ll be right back with Erin,” he said.
The door slammed shut behind him with a sickening thud that was all too familiar to Jerrod. He’d spent more than one night in the Inferno jail.
“I wonder what happened to old Sheriff Kiley?” he mused aloud.
“Last I heard, he’d retired to Florida and was spending his days playing golf.” Johnna opened her briefcase on the table in the center of the room and pulled out a pad and pencil. “Why?” She looked up at him. “What made you think of him?”
Jerrod walked over to the table and sat in the chair next to where she would be sitting. “I was just remembering how often in my wicked youth I heard one of those steel doors slam shut behind me.”
“Sheriff Kiley was just trying to keep you out of trouble by locking you up,” Johnna said.
Jerrod nodded, knowing she was right. He’d never been charged with anything, but occasionally he’d get in a foul mood, have a snoutful of beer and try to pick a fight. Kiley would keep him overnight until he’d sobered up or calmed down, then release him with a stern lecture.
The air in the tiny room was stuffy and, within seconds, filled with the scent of her. The scent of wildly blooming flowers with a hint of vanilla was the same fragrance she’d worn years before. To his surprise, it still had the power to stir him.
He stood and paced the room, amazed by how quickly he’d responded to her scent, and tried to dispel the memories that assaulted him. Memories of Johnna, warm and yielding in his arms. Johnna, eyes blazing flames of heat as she clung to him in breathless wonder.
Broder appeared at the door, Erin looking small and defenseless in front of him. He felt Johnna’s shock when she saw the black eye and swollen lip Erin sported. “Just bang on the door when you’re done,” the sheriff said, then closed the door and left the three of them alone.
“Thank you for coming,” Erin said to Johnna with as much dignity as possible in her current situation.
Johnna nodded and gestured the petite blond into a chair across from her at the table. “I hope Jerrod explained to you that I haven’t agreed to represent you yet.”
Johnna sat down as Erin did the same. As she began to ask background questions and make notes on the pad before her, Jerrod studied the two women who had played the most important roles in his life.
Erin—childhood friend, confidante and fellow dreamer. They had commiserated together, schemed together and, in one moment of sheer insanity, had effectively destroyed any hope Jerrod had of a future with Johnna.
He frowned and studied Johnna, seeing the changes the years had wrought. She was thinner than he remembered. And in his memories, her eyes had always been the soft gray of a predawn sky. As he had yesterday, he noticed no softness in those eyes now, rather a brittle hardness.
He wondered what life experiences had stolen the softness from her. He certainly wasn’t egotistical enough to believe that it had been his long-ago betrayal. In the years since he’d been gone, surely she’d had other lovers. Funny how that thought bothered him more than just a little bit. He frowned and focused on the conversation.
“Erin, I haven’t read any of the newspaper articles or listened to any news reports concerning your husband’s murder. I’ll need some background on your marriage…but let’s start with what happened the night of the murder.” Jerrod noticed that as Johnna spoke to Erin, she kept her gaze focused on the pad before her.
A muscle ticked just below Johnna’s right eye, a sign of tension Jerrod recognized from the past.
Erin sat back in her chair, tears welling up in eyes that looked as if they had already shed enough tears for a lifetime.
“It was Wednesday night. Richard had a business meeting and afterward he and some clients went out for a couple of drinks. By the time he got home around ten, he was drunk. And whenever he got drunk, he got mean.” She swiped at her eyes, as if finding her tears more a nuisance than anything. “He’d slapped me around a hundred times before, but this time was worse than ever.”
“Worse how?”
“Always before he’d been controlled with his beatings. He never hit me in the face and rarely where somebody might see bruises or cuts. But that night he was crazy.”
“What set him off?” Johnna finally looked at Erin, the tic beneath Johnna’s eye more pronounced.
“His navy-blue dress shirt.” Erin stared at the tabletop. “I accidentally washed it with a white towel and it got white lint all over it. I’d set it on the dryer and was going to wash it again, but he saw it that night and went ballistic.”
“He beat you often?” Johnna asked, and Jerrod realized the tic had vanished.
“He beat me whenever he drank. And Richard drank a lot.”
“Are there police reports, hospital records, anything to chronicle the previous instances of abuse?”
“There are some hospital records, but we always lied to the doctors.” She laughed bitterly. “You know, I stumbled down the stairs, I walked into a door…I was just clumsy and accident-prone. I don’t know about police reports. Richard’s best friend is…was Sam Clegg.”
“Deputy Clegg?” Johnna’s eyebrows rose.
Erin nodded. “When things got bad and I could manage it, I’d call Sam and he’d come over and calm Richard down, but I don’t know if he ever made any reports. A couple of other deputies showed up a few times, but they always just talked to Richard.”
Johnna’s pencil flew over the page of the legal pad as she scribbled note after note. Jerrod watched her intently, recognizing that, despite whatever reluctance she’d felt initially in meeting Erin, she was now completely caught up in the drama. She even seemed to have forgotten his presence.
Erin leaned forward and grabbed one of Johnna’s hands. Johnna sat up stiffly, as if unaccustomed to any sort of physical contact.
“Johnna, I know we’ve never been friends, that there was a time you had reason to hate my guts. But I swear to you, that night, the night of the murder, Richard hit me so hard he knocked me unconscious, and when I came to, he was dead. Somebody had bashed his head in, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t kill him. I swear I didn’t.” She released Johnna’s hand and again tears glimmered at her bruised and swollen eyes. “You’ve got to help me.”
Johnna stood and paced in front of the table. “Why me, Erin? Like you said, we’ve never been friends. Why would you want me to represent you?”
“Because Richard had powerful friends in this town, and I know you won’t play any games. Because I think if you agree to take my case, you’ll do everything in your ability to help me. I know you’re honorable, Johnna, and I trust your integrity.”
For a long moment Johnna stood staring at Erin, her forehead wrinkled with thought. She turned her head and gazed at Jerrod, and in the depths of her gray eyes, he saw a flash of vulnerability, a whisper of pain.
“Will you do it? Will you help me?” Erin asked softly. Johnna looked back at Erin, then nodded curtly and once again sat down across from her.
As the two women discussed the fee, Jerrod wondered why he had the strangest feeling that in helping one, the other might be healed.
Ridiculous, he scoffed inwardly. Erin needed help, but Johnna Delaney certainly didn’t need to be healed. Still, he couldn’t get that momentary flash of pain in her eyes out of his head.
In encouraging Johnna to represent Erin, he had either done a good thing or lit a fuse on a powder keg of emotions that might explode in all their faces. Only time would tell what the outcome would be.

Chapter 3
“How about some lunch?” Jerrod said as they left the jail.
Johnna looked at her watch in surprise. It was after eleven. She hadn’t realized she’d been speaking with Erin for more than two hours.
Her first inclination was to reject his offer. She didn’t want to have lunch with him. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him. And yet, her pride alone didn’t want him to think that she harbored any ill will toward him.
To let him know how deeply he’d hurt her all those years ago would give him power over her. And her pride wouldn’t allow that. “Sure, lunch sounds good,” she agreed.
“The diner?”
She nodded and they set off walking down the sidewalk. She’d been shocked to see him at the jail, hadn’t anticipated he would want to be a participant in her interview with Erin. She should have known better. It was obvious he and Erin had maintained contact in the years Jerrod had been gone from Inferno.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“You mean do I believe her?” Johnna thought about all the information she’d gained from Erin about the night of the murder. “I don’t know…maybe. Although it really doesn’t matter what I believe. It’s what I can convince a jury to believe. I need to meet with Chet Maxwell before the arraignment Monday and see if there’s a possibility he’ll charge her with manslaughter rather than murder.”
“She won’t take a plea. She’s innocent.”
They ceased speaking until they were seated in a booth in the diner and had ordered lunch. Johnna’s head spun as the realization of what she’d just agreed to sank in. She was going to defend Erin McCall—a woman she’d spent the last nine years resenting.
“Your brother and his new bride didn’t plan much of a honeymoon,” Jerrod said when the waitress had brought their drinks, then left. “Didn’t I hear they were just spending one night at Rose’s Bed-and-Breakfast?”
“That’s right,” Johnna said, then took a sip of her iced tea. “This is the busy season at the ranch and they’ve planned a more extended honeymoon when the ranch is dark in November.”
In the past ten years, the Delaney Dude Ranch had become a popular vacation place for tourists. It was open ten months out of twelve and closed for a month in the spring and another in late fall for maintenance and repairs.
“I was surprised to discover that Mark was the first of you all to get married,” he said.
“Matthew might as well be married to the ranch. He’ll probably never take a bride. Luke is so busy romancing everyone in the four-county area, he’s a lost cause when it comes to monogamy and marriage.”
“And you?” His blue eyes seemed to be searching inside her, seeking weaknesses—or secrets.
She met his gaze evenly. “And I’ve decided I’m not cut out to be somebody’s wife. I like living my life my way, without compromises or conditions. I’m set in my ways and perfectly happy alone. And what about you?” she asked curiously. “Do you have a wife tucked away somewhere? Perhaps a couple of kids?”
“No wife. No kids. I’ve been pretty focused on my ministry and that hasn’t left much time for anything else.” He leaned back against the red plastic booth. “I have a lot of plans for the church, which I understand from Reverend Templeton is slowly dying from apathy. But eventually I’d like a wife and children.”
Was this the reason he was eager for Erin to be acquitted? Perhaps he intended to take up where they had left off long ago.
It surprised her that the thought of the two of them together after all these years still possessed the power to hurt. She’d thought she’d become inured to the pain and knew she had to move past it in order to do the best possible job for Erin.
“When do you begin your work at the church?” she asked.
“Reverend Templeton is giving his farewell sermon tomorrow, and I’ll take over starting next week.” He paused a moment. “I was sorry to hear about your father’s death.”
She eyed him and said dryly, “Really. You were probably one of the few people who were sorry to see him go.”
His gaze was so tender, she felt as if it reached inside her and stroked her heart. “Things never got better between you and your father?”
Johnna didn’t reply as the waitress appeared with their orders. She placed Johnna’s salad before her, then offered Jerrod a flirtatious smile along with his burger and fries. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked, and Johnna knew from the look in her eyes she was offering something to Jerrod that certainly wasn’t on the menu.
“I think we’re fine,” Jerrod said, his gaze not leaving Johnna. The waitress pursed her lips in disappointment, then twirled and left.
“Isn’t it some sort of sin for a woman to look at a preacher like that?” she asked with a burst of irritation.
Jerrod laughed, the deep rumble stirring the embers of memories Johnna thought dead. “I’m a minister, Johnna, not a saint. And we were talking about you and your father,” he said softly.
Johnna picked up her fork and stared at her salad. “No,” she countered, “you were talking about my father.” She set her fork down, her appetite buried beneath the weight of thoughts of her father.
“Nothing changed, Jerrod. From the time of my birth until his death, Father blamed me for killing my mother in childbirth and for not being born a son. He wanted a John, not a Johnna. I never could do anything right in his eyes.”
She didn’t want to think about Adam Delaney. It was bad enough that he still controlled her from the grave, setting up ridiculous terms in his will that forced her to spend far too much time working on the dude ranch.
“I’m sorry, Johnna.” He reached across the table and touched the back of her hand. His touch shot fire through her, and she jerked her hand away from his.
“Soon after you left Inferno, I did, too.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You did? Where did you go?”
“I went to Phoenix, enrolled in college and lived in a tiny apartment off campus. I was there almost six years, but I came home regularly on breaks and holidays.” She picked up her fork and speared a piece of lettuce, trying not the remember those first few months away from home, when she’d realized she was pregnant. “What about you? Where did you go when you left here?”
“Dallas. Uncle Cyrus gave me the name of one of his eccentric friends, and he was eccentric enough to believe I was worth investing money and tutelage.” A smile curved his lips. “He was a preacher and took me under his wing and taught me about things I’d never known before.”
“You mentioned that you were staying with your father. How’s that going?” Johnna picked at her salad, not having regained much of an appetite.
Jerrod sighed. “Okay. Dad is still a mess, but I’ve finally come to the realization that I’m not responsible for saving him from himself. I’m looking for a house for us. I’d like to get him out of the trailer.”
They fell silent as they each focused on their meals. As Johnna ate, she found her gaze drawn again and again to Jerrod.
As a young man, Jerrod had been handsome, but now, at twenty-nine, he had a quiet self-confidence, a strong maturity that had been absent years ago. And these traits transformed him from handsome to devastating. His finely honed features were more interesting now, with maturity and character reflecting within. His thick, dark hair invited feminine fingers to dance in the strands, and his sensual mouth looked as if it had been shaped just for kissing.
Even if he and Erin didn’t work out, Jerrod would have no problem finding women interested in him. The waitress was a perfect example of how Jerrod’s attractiveness drew female interest. If it was his choice, he’d spend few nights alone in Inferno.
Suddenly Johnna needed to be away from here, away from Jerrod. The enormity of taking on a murder case, coupled with the past that she seemed to be having trouble keeping firmly in the past, made her need action.
She didn’t want to be sitting here, studying the gorgeous features of the man she’d once loved with all her heart, a man who had absolutely no place in the safe, careful life she’d built for herself.
“I need to go,” she said briskly, and shoved her barely eaten salad aside.
“But you’ve hardly touched your food,” he protested.
“I’m not hungry. I suddenly realize I’ve got a lot to do. I’ve got to talk to Chet, gather reports and plan a defense strategy.”
“You’re going to need help.”
She nodded, having already thought of that. “I’ve got a friend in Phoenix, a lawyer friend who I’m hoping will come out here to help.”
He touched her again, his warm hand reaching out to cover hers. This time she fought the impulse to pull away. “I’m not a lawyer, but I want to help in any way I can.”
He removed his hand from hers and Johnna stood. “I’m sure Erin appreciates your support.” She opened her purse to get money for her meal.
“It’s on me,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, and closed her purse. She murmured a quick goodbye, then left the diner, hoping the heat of the midday sun would burn away the feel of his hand on hers.
Fifteen minutes later she was ushered into Chet Maxwell’s office, where the chubby prosecutor greeted her with a big grin. “I hear we’re going head-to-head on the Kramer murder case.”
Johnna raised an eyebrow in surprise. “News travels fast.”
He laughed and gestured her into the chair in front of his desk. “This is Inferno. The minute you walked into the jail this morning, half-a-dozen people began talking.”
“I don’t know why we bother publishing a newspaper every morning,” Johnna said wryly.
“So.” Chet sat behind his desk and reared back in the oversize chair. “I assume that’s why you’re here—the Kramer case.”
For the next hour Johnna argued, cursed and conceded points of law with Chet. She came away from the meeting knowing that Erin would be charged with first-degree murder and that Chet intended to ask the judge for no bail.
He promised to have his secretary personally deliver copies of all pertinent paperwork to her office in the next couple of hours.
Johnna left his office and walked the three blocks to her own law office. She unlocked the door and entered the small office that comprised two rooms—the reception/lobby area and her private office. Her receptionist worked on a part-time basis and didn’t work on Saturdays.
Johnna headed to the private office and sat down behind her desk, her thoughts tumbling turbulently in her head. Her father had never seen her office. He’d never shown any interest in the fact that she’d passed the bar, leased an office or begun a practice. But then, he’d never shown any interest in her other than to tell her how utterly worthless she was.
In retrospect, Johnna realized her relationship with Jerrod had begun as a rebellion and it had been the first time she’d achieved her goal, resulting in her finally gaining her father’s attention. They’d had the biggest row of their lives over her seeing Jerrod.
But it hadn’t taken long for rebellion to become something deeper, more profound, and the love she’d felt for Jerrod had been the first good thing in her life.
And then he’d destroyed it.
Funny, most of her anger had never been directed at Erin. Erin hadn’t broken promises, destroyed faith or betrayed trust by sleeping with Jerrod. No, Jerrod had done all those things by sleeping with Erin.
Pain ripped through her as she remembered the night of his confession. She’d waited for him as usual at the end of the lane leading to her family ranch, her heart singing with the knowledge that soon she’d be in his arms. But when he’d arrived, he hadn’t taken her in his arms; instead, he’d told her that the night before he’d had sex with Erin. And that was the night Johnna’s world crashed down around her.
She’d been so sure he’d deny it, that he’d tell her he’d never so much as kissed Erin McCall. But he hadn’t denied it, and the memory of that moment of truth still had the power to make her ache inside.
Shoving aside those thoughts, she picked up the telephone and dialed the long-distance number that would connect her to Harriet Smith. She didn’t want to think any more about Jerrod McCain. She had to focus on Erin’s case.
She was grateful to hear the raspy deep voice that picked up on the second ring. “Harry, it’s me.”
“Johnna! What a pleasure to hear your voice.”
“And yours,” Johnna replied, warmth flooding through her as she thought of the older lawyer who had played an integral role in Johnna’s pursuit of a law degree. Without Harriet’s support and friendship during the grueling years of law school, Johnna might have given up.
“What’s up?” Harriet asked.
“I need your help. How would you like to second-chair a murder trial?”
“Tell me where and when and I’m there.”
Johnna smiled. “Here and yesterday.” For the next few minutes the two women finalized things, then hung up.
It would be good to see Harriet again, although she’d refused to consider being a houseguest of Johnna’s and instead, had asked Johnna to get her a room at the local bed-and-breakfast.
Ninety minutes later Chet Maxwell’s secretary knocked on the door of the office and handed Johnna a manila envelope. Johnna thanked her, then went back to her desk and began reading and making notes.
She didn’t realize how long she’d been working until she stopped to stretch and realized the room was growing dark with the approach of night.
Checking her watch, she was shocked to see it was almost nine. She’d worked through dinner and the lonely evening hours. Now night shadows deepened to possess the tiny town and Johnna was exhausted.
Her exhaustion was physical. Her shoulders ached and her back was sore from sitting for so many hours. But her mind whirled with all the information the reports had contained.
Sheriff Broder and a couple of his deputies had responded to a disturbance call and had arrived at the Kramer home at eleven-thirteen Thursday night. Erin answered the door, dazed and obviously beaten and led them into the living room where Richard Kramer lay sprawled on the floor, dead from several blows to the back of the head. Nothing had been found at the scene that appeared to be the object used to hit the victim.
The report had described Erin as “nearly incoherent” and “hysterical.” The statement she had given the sheriff later that night was the same as what she’d told Johnna.
Johnna packed the files and reports into her briefcase, then shut off the office light and locked the place up tight for the night.
Although she only lived a few blocks from her office, she’d driven her car that morning because she’d intended to drive out to the ranch and put in a couple of hours work there. But now it was too late to go to the ranch.
Main Street had shut down for the night and the street was deserted. Inferno wasn’t the place to live if you liked nightlife. There was only one bar, at the edge of town, that remained open after 8:30 p.m. The rest of the town folded up at that time.
She approached her car and frowned as she saw that something appeared to be smeared across the dark blue paint of the hood. As she walked closer she realized it was white spray paint.
“Terrific,” she muttered. Apparently some of the bored youth of Inferno had run amuck. Then she spied the note tucked beneath her windshield wiper.
She plucked out the note and opened it.
DROP THE KRAMER CASE OR DIE.
The words were handwritten in block letters, and Johnna stared at them for a long moment as a shiver of apprehension crawled up her spine. She tucked the note into her purse, then drove her damaged car down the street to the police station. As she drove, she contemplated exactly what the note meant.
Perhaps somebody thought Erin was guilty as hell and resented the fact that anyone intended to defend her. This possibility determined that whoever had painted her car and written the note was probably a moron who didn’t understand the way the judicial system worked and didn’t realize that somebody would defend Erin no matter what.
Or her initial reaction might have been right—kids out for a night of mischief who’d heard she was Erin’s lawyer. In either case, whoever was responsible apparently didn’t know Johnna very well. They certainly didn’t realize that when she was pushed, she didn’t quit. She pushed back.

It had become habit for Jerrod, after tucking his father into bed, to pour himself a glass of iced tea and sit out on the porch and relax as the night shadows cooled the day’s heat.
After he’d left the diner earlier in the day, he’d met with Shirley Swabb, a real-estate agent, and she’d taken him to see several houses that were for sale in town.
The trailer park was dying, was for all intents and purposes dead. There had once been no less than twenty trailers in the area, but now there were only twelve, and three of those were abandoned and now were just ugly tin skeletons awaiting an official burial.
However, it wasn’t the demise of the trailer park that encouraged Jerrod to look for a new home for his father and himself, rather it was the need to remove his father from the haunting memories of his wife.
Jerrod’s mother had lived in the trailer for eight years before she’d left to buy the proverbial “pack of smokes” and never returned. That had been nearly twenty-three years ago, and still, at least for Jerrod’s father, her spirit lived in every room.
Jerrod sipped his tea and tried to remember the woman who’d given birth to him. He had very few memories of her, and his strongest were of a woman who’d been miserably unhappy.
He thought of his father. How horrendous it must be to be tormented by thoughts of a lost love for twenty-three long years. And yet, hadn’t Jerrod himself been tormented by thoughts of Johnna for the past nine years?
He rejected this momentary illumination. Ridiculous, he scoffed. He’d gotten over Johnna Delaney long ago. The fact that he’d had no real relationship with a woman since her had nothing to do with anything other than he’d chosen a lifestyle and embraced a set of moral standards for himself that didn’t allow for passionate, uncommitted relationships.
Still, when he’d felt her hand, small and soft beneath his at lunch earlier in the day, he’d wondered if the magic that had once sparkled between them might still exist, or if it had been forever extinguished beneath the weight of betrayal and the poison of cutting words.
A car approached, its beams slicing through the darkness and momentarily blinding him. It parked in front of the trailer, and he stood, surprised to see the woman who had been on his mind.
He set his glass down and left the porch to greet her. “Johnna,” he said, wondering what on earth had brought her here.
“Thought you might like to see the new paint job somebody did on my car.” She gestured to the hood.
Jerrod moved around to the front of the car to get a better look. “When did this happen?”
“I’m not sure. Sometime this evening while I was in my office and the car was parked out on the street.”
“Did you report it?” he asked, trying not to notice how the moonlight brought out the rich luster of her hair and gave her features a soft, silvery glow.
She leaned against the side of the car. “Yeah, but I’m sure nothing will come of it.” She dug in her back pocket and handed him a folded piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“A note that was stuck under my windshield.”
He tried to make out the words in the darkness, but couldn’t. “Come on up to the porch,” he said.
Together they walked to the tiny porch and he read the note, then looked at her sharply. “You showed this to Sheriff Broder?”
She nodded and sank into one of the wicker chairs.
“Want some iced tea? A soda?”
“Tea would be wonderful,” she replied.
Jerrod grabbed his empty glass, then went inside to get the drinks. For a moment he leaned against the counter and fought a wave of anger as he thought of anyone threatening Johnna. The anger was tempered with a sickening swirl of fear for her safety. He checked on his father, who was sleeping soundly, fixed two glasses of tea, then stepped back out to the porch and handed her one.
“Thanks,” she murmured, and took a sip.
In the yellow glare of the porch light, he noted she looked drawn. He sat in the other chair and looked at her intently. “Maybe you should drop the case. I can give Erin the names of several good attorneys in Texas. They’d be glad to take her on.”
She eyed him with disbelief and he saw the stubborn thrust of her chin. “You really think I’m going to allow an anonymous note and a little spray paint to scare me away? Not a chance.”
“I should have known better,” he said dryly. There were times he’d wondered if his appeal to her had been based on her stubbornness and her refusal to bend to what others thought appropriate.
“What I can’t understand is why somebody would care whether I defend Erin or not.” She frowned thoughtfully. “It’s not like if I don’t do it, nobody will.”
“Maybe somebody is afraid that you’re such a good attorney you’ll get Erin off.”
She emitted a burst of laughter. “Boy, can I tell you’re new in town.” She frowned again. “My law office has only been open less than a year. I haven’t exactly made a reputation yet.”
“You’re wrong.” He pulled his chair closer, so close his knees bumped hers. “You have made a reputation for yourself as a determined and passionate advocate for the downtrodden in this town. You’re a good lawyer, Johnna, just as I always knew you would be.”
Her eyes flared with a momentary glitter of gratitude, as if she rarely heard words singing her praises. She’d been a teenager who’d needed to be told often that she was good and worthwhile, and it appeared that much hadn’t changed in the intervening years.
And something else that hadn’t changed. When they’d been young and in love, Jerrod had been fascinated by Johnna’s mouth. He’d seen her full, bottom lip as a blatant invitation and now found himself remembering the sheer pleasure of kissing her.
Johnna kissed like she did everything, throwing herself into it with passion and heart. A spark ignited in Jerrod as he thought of the kisses they’d shared in the past. Hot, fiery kisses that had stirred him to his core. Heaven help him, but she was a temptation.
“Jerrod, you’re staring,” she said with a trace of embarrassment.
“Sorry.” He mentally shook himself and sat up straighter in his chair. “So, where do you go from here with the case?”
“The first thing I intend to do is hire Judd Stevens to do some investigative work for me. I want to get as much background material as I can, and with having to work twenty-five hours a week at the ranch, I just can’t do it all myself.”
“Why do you have to work twenty-five hours a week at the ranch?”
Again a frown creased the smooth skin of her forehead. “My father’s will.” She paused a moment to take a sip of her tea, the tip of her tongue darting out to lick her lips. Again Jerrod felt a burst of heat suffuse him. “It’s my father’s attempt to control us beyond the grave.”
“What do you mean?” Jerrod took a long swallow of his own tea in an effort to cool himself.
“According to Father’s will, none of us can inherit the ranch for a year, and during that year we all have to work twenty-five hours a week there. Otherwise we forfeit everything and Aunt Clara gets it all.”
“Why would he do something like that?”
She stood, as if unable to discuss her father from a relaxed position. “Because he was a mean, hateful man who loved to control the four of us.” She paced in front of Jerrod. “I wouldn’t mind forfeiting myself. I’ve always hated the ranch.”
Jerrod said nothing, although he knew better. “But,” she continued, “the ranch is so important to Matthew. I have my law practice, Luke has his music and Mark now has April. Matthew has nothing but the ranch. I can’t be the one to take away his dream.”
“So the will is set up so that if one of you defaults, you all lose?” Jerrod asked, and got to his feet, also.
Her fragrance surrounded him, the scent of summer flowers and vanilla, and he stepped closer to her, drawn to her as he had been so long ago.
Was the magic they’d once had gone forever? Never to be recaptured? Crushed beneath the weight of his youthful mistake and the circumstances that had brought them here in this place in time?
She nodded absently in answer to his question. “I’ve got to get home. I have a full day planned for tomorrow. I need to talk to people who knew Erin and Richard.” She stepped off the porch and he followed her.
When she reached her car, she started to climb in, but he stopped her by touching her arm. She looked up at him, her strong, beautiful features painted by the moonlight.
“Johnna, I want you to take this threat seriously.” He nodded to indicate the paint on her hood.
“I’m sure it’s nothing more than the work of a moron,” she said.
“Even morons can be dangerous.” He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to capture those lips with his, feel the heat of her body pressed against his, recapture the magic that had become lost.
Unable to help himself, he reached up and touched a finger to her cheek. She flinched away from him, her gaze hardening, and got into her car. “I’ll be careful,” she said, and started the engine.
As she pulled away, Jerrod shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and watched until her taillights had disappeared from view.

Chapter 4
A smile curved Johnna’s lips as she drove down Main Street toward her house. She’d had a productive morning. She’d met with Judd Stevens, the private investigator, and had arranged for him to begin work for her.
After meeting Judd, she’d picked up Harriet Smith, her good friend and fellow attorney, from the tiny Inferno airport and had just left the older woman at the bed-and-breakfast where she would be staying for the duration of Erin’s trial.
It was terrific to have Harriet here, not only helping her with the legal machinations of her first murder trial, but also as emotional support. Only Harriet knew the full depth of Johnna’s despair when she’d lost Jerrod, then when she’d lost her baby girl. Only Harriet understood the grief that would always reside in a portion of Johnna’s heart.
Turning from Main onto Oak, her gaze shot to the house third from the corner. It was a charming little two-story, with gingerbread trim and a long front porch. More than that, it was Johnna’s safe haven, her private space—her home.
Here was the one place she felt as if she truly belonged. She’d picked the house and its furnishings with great care, creating a nest where she fully anticipated living the rest of her life. Alone.
She’d decided to come here, grab a bite of late lunch, then head to the ranch and put in a couple of hours of work there. Harriet had insisted she needed the day to acclimate herself to the small town and had further insisted Johnna leave her to her own devices for the day. They would meet first thing in the morning for Erin’s arraignment.
As Johnna got out of her car, two people standing in the front yard of the house across the street caught her attention. A wave of dismay swept through her as she recognized Jerrod and Shirley Swabb, the local real-estate agent.
That particular house had stood empty and been for sale for some time. Surely Jerrod wasn’t considering buying the place. But what else could he be doing there with Shirley?
It was bad enough Johnna had to share this small town with Jerrod, bad enough he apparently intended to be a big part of Erin’s support. Johnna certainly did not want to share this street with him. She didn’t want to have to look out her window and see him day in and day out.
“Hi, Johnna.” Shirley waved, her broad face beaming as Johnna approached.
“Hi, Shirley, Jerrod.” Johnna tried not to notice how handsome Jerrod looked. He was clad in a pair of charcoal slacks and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose well-developed forearms sprinkled with dark, curly hair.
His eyes were the color of the sky overhead, a blue so intense it almost hurt to look at them. There had been a time when Johnna had been able to lose herself in those blue depths.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“Looks like we’re going to be neighbors,” Jerrod replied.
“Jerrod is buying the place,” Shirley added with another of her big, salesperson smiles.
“Why? It’s a wreck.” Shirley’s smile slid away beneath Johnna’s pronouncement. “The porch is sagging, one of the windows is broken. It needs painting.”
“All cosmetic,” Shirley replied stiffly, and shot Johnna a glare.
Johnna ignored her. “Jerrod, surely you can find a place that doesn’t need so much work.” Someplace not on my street, someplace on the other side of town, she wanted to scream.
“I like this house,” Jerrod replied, his gaze unreadable as it lingered on her. “Besides, Shirley is right. It’s structurally sound. It just needs a little tender, loving care. In fact, Shirley tells me your brother does a lot of carpentry work.”
“I’m sure Luke is far too busy to take on another project,” Johnna replied. She knew she sounded churlish and petulant, and she hated herself for it. But he was stirring old emotions, emotions she found more and more difficult to shove away.
“My father needs a project and this place will be just the thing for him,” Jerrod said.
“We’re on the way to my office to sign the paperwork,” Shirley added coolly, obviously irritated by Johnna’s attempt to interfere in a sale.
“I promise you I’ll be a good neighbor,” Jerrod said, a knowing smile curving his lips.
“I’m sure you will be.” Johnna felt the heat of a blush warm her face and wondered how transparent she had been.
“How was church this morning?” she asked grudgingly.
“Wonderful. The good reverend delivered a beautifully moving goodbye sermon. Unfortunately there was only a handful of people there.”
“I’m sure you’ll turn that around in no time,” she said, then added, “And I hope you and your father will be very happy here.” She realized she was fighting a losing battle with the house and refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing any more of her protests.
Before anyone could say anything else, she spun on her heel and strode back to her house.
Once inside, she dropped her briefcase by the front door, then stood at the front window and stared outside. She watched as Jerrod took the For Sale sign down and walked it over to lean it against the side of the garage.
When he’d touched her face the night before, she’d wanted to fall into his arms, feel the heat of his mouth, allow him to take whatever he wanted or needed from her. And that had frightened her.
At eighteen she had been positively besotted with Jerrod McCain. She’d given him power over her mind, her body and her heart. And he had thrown it all away, leaving her in a state of devastation she’d never fully recovered from and never again wanted to experience.

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