A Hero To Count On. Linda Turner

picture yet. Not, he acknowledged ruefully, that he had any intention of making a serious play for the woman. She was extended family, of a sorts. Or she would be when her sister married his half brother. And he didn’t play around with women who were closely connected to friends or family. That only created hard feelings when the women discovered he wasn’t the marrying kind.

      So Katherine Wyatt was off-limits and had been before he’d even seen her picture. Damn. He could have had some fun with her. Instead he had to behave himself. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

      Grinning at the thought, he looked up as passengers started down the escalator that led to the baggage-claim area; and there was Katherine Wyatt, right in the middle of the pack. She’d been crying—that much was obvious—and the sparkle was gone from her eyes. In spite of that, all he could think was that her picture didn’t do her justice.

      How could a woman who looked as if she’d cried all the way across the Atlantic and halfway through the flight from New York look so pretty? She’d been on a plane for hours, but you wouldn’t know it to look at her. Her chestnut hair was a mass of long curls that were held back from her face with a blue-and-white polka-dot scarf, and the red T-shirt and white jeans that she wore didn’t have a single wrinkle. If her eyes were swollen from crying, that was the only crack in her armor. She stood tall, all five-foot-two of her, in wedge-soled sandals, and was the cutest handful of trouble he’d seen in a long time.

      “And she’s off-limits,” he muttered, swallowing a groan.

      Resigned, he pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and headed toward Katherine as she stepped off the escalator. Her attention on the signs that directed passengers to the baggage-claim area, she didn’t spare him a glance.

      Frowning, he couldn’t believe she was so unaware of her surroundings. Considering all the attacks against her family and the ranch over the past six months, she should have been on constant guard. Didn’t she know she was in danger? He’d have to talk to her about that on the way back to the ranch.

      Stepping forward to help her with the heavy carry-on bag she had slung over her shoulder, he said easily, “You must be Katherine. Here…let me help you with that.”

      Chapter 2

      Caught off guard, Katherine turned sharply, just in time to see a stranger reach for her bag. Alarmed, she wrapped protective fingers around the shoulder strap of her carry-on and took a quick step back. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, scowling.

      “Don’t get all spooked on me,” he said with a crooked grin as he once again reached for her bag. “I’m just trying to help—”

      Outraged, she knocked his hand away. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’ve got two seconds to get away from me or I’m calling security!”

      Her threat should have sent him packing. Instead he only laughed. “C’mon, there’s no need for that. I’m harmless.”

      “Yeah, right,” she scoffed.

      She’d never seen a man who looked less harmless in her life. He was a bad boy—she could see it in his wicked, laughing green eyes—and she didn’t doubt for a second that he could melt a woman’s bones without ever touching her. She wanted nothing to do with him.

      Deliberately she turned her back on him. “I don’t need your help. Leave me alone.”

      “Okay, if that’s the way you want it. It’s ten miles to the ranch, but if you want to walk, far be it from me to stop you. Elizabeth’s going to kill me, but, hey, I tried.”

      “I don’t care—” she began, only to break off abruptly at the mention of her sister. Whirling, she studied him suspiciously. “How do you know Elizabeth? Who are you?”

      “Hunter Sinclair,” he retorted. When she just looked at him blankly, he explained, “I’m John’s brother. He and Elizabeth couldn’t make it, so I volunteered to pick you up, instead.”

      At his words, Katherine paled. “John doesn’t have a brother. And I just talked to my sister this morning, and she never once mentioned that she was sending anyone to pick me up. They sent you, didn’t they?”

      Confused, he frowned. “They? They who? Who are you talking about?”

      “The thugs who want the ranch,” she retorted. “Did you think I don’t know about what’s been going on just because I live in England? Elizabeth and Buck keep me posted on everything. They told me who they trust, and trust me, your name never came up. So get the hell away from me. If you lay so much as a finger on me, I’m going to scream my guts out and I won’t stop until somebody throws your butt in jail.”

      Impressed—she was tougher than she looked—he stepped back, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. “Whoa, whoa! There’s no need to scream. I’m not going to hurt you. John does have a brother. A half brother.”

      “Then why hasn’t he mentioned you?”

      “How the hell do I know? Because I’m the black sheep of the family?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe because we haven’t seen each other in years and lost touch. Maybe my name just didn’t come up when you talked to him. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

      “I’ll do that,” she snapped, and reached for her phone.

      “You won’t get him,” he warned. “He and Elizabeth went to a wedding. It started at three-thirty. That’s why they sent me.”

      Ignoring him, she punched in her sister’s number, then John’s. Neither one answered. Was he telling the truth? she wondered as her eyes searched his. He had all the right answers, but she couldn’t forget how badly certain people in Willow Bend wanted to drive her family away from the ranch. What if this man was part of that conspiracy? What if he’d somehow grabbed Elizabeth and John and locked them up somewhere for a couple of days? If he could lure everyone away from the ranch for forty-eight hours, the struggle to hang on to the Broken Arrow would be over for good.

      “I’m not going anywhere with you until I talk to John and Elizabeth first,” she said flatly, “so you might as well get comfortable.”

      “Fine by me,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve got nothing but time. And we can get to know each other. Do you still read tea leaves?”

      Surprised, she blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

      “Your grandmother taught you to read tea leaves when you were a little girl, didn’t she? I heard you were really good at it.”

      “Who—”

      “Elizabeth said you found a watch she lost on a school field trip. It was near a fountain, wasn’t it? It slipped off her arm when she threw some pennies in the fountain.”

      No one but her family knew that story. Stunned, Katherine didn’t have to ask where he’d heard it. Elizabeth must have told him, just as he’d claimed.

      “I understand why you don’t trust me,” Hunter said quietly. “After everything that’s happened to Buck and Rainey and Elizabeth, I’d be spooked, too, if I were you. But I’m not your enemy. You have nothing to fear from me. I won’t hurt you.”

      The teasing glint that had been in his eyes just moments before was gone, and there was no doubting his sincerity. She wanted to believe him, but lately her family had learned the hard way not to trust anyone. “I still need to talk to Elizabeth,” she said huskily as she once again reached for her phone. “As soon as she verifies you’re really who claim you are, we can go.”

      “Have it your way,” he said with a shrug. “I’m willing to wait as long as you are. How about a cup of coffee while we wait? Or would you rather have tea? Hot tea’s not something you’re going to run into in this neck of the woods, but there’s bound to be something. Let’s see what we can scrounge up.”

      Katherine didn’t really want tea—or for