Page 88 of A Rancher's Bride
He tucked his fingers under her chin and tipped her head back. Then his lips were on hers in a tender kiss filled with concern and something else that tasted very sweet.
He pulled back, smiling at her. “Want to see the pictures?”
Kelli nodded.
He handed her the first one and her heart skipped a beat before she looked down and saw herself. “I didn’t look ridiculous,” she admitted. “And, damn, my rack looks great.”
A huge laugh escaped him, bursting free at a level more in line with what she expected from him. “Your rack always looks great,” he assured her. “Here’s the other picture.”
It was easy to see why they’d concluded she and this mysterious woman were related. It was like looking into a slightly off-kilter mirror. Just enough changes Kelli could tell it wasn’t her face, but that of a doppelgänger.
Then her eyes fell on the locket hanging around the other woman’s neck, and everything inside her went still. “Holy moly. It is my mom.”
“Seriously?” Luke straightened, twisting the picture toward himself as if trying to see what it made her so certain.
She pointed to the necklace. “Mom wore that all the time. She never took it off until—” A memory crashed in. “It got broken one day when a boyfriend got rough. I remember picking it up off the floor and hiding it until I could give it back.”
He stiffened, body tightening in anger at her words.
“That was one of the only times I actually saw her cry. She told me it had been a Christmas gift when she was thirteen.”
Luke met her gaze as both sadness and wonder tangled inside her. “So he probably is your grandpa, the man who says he knows this woman.”
Kelli nodded.
“Do you want to meet him?”
No. Yes.
“Maybe? I haven’t been desperately trying to find the past all these years. I’ve been trying to have a good life here and now.”
He held her close again, his strong arms centering her. “It’s up to you. It really is.”
Something was still wrong. She pushed against his chest until she could peer at his face. “What’s going on? You tend to be more opinionated,” she informed him.
Luke stiffened. “It’s your life, it’s your decision.”
“I get that, and it is. But that’s never stopped you before from telling me what you think I should do. Why are you stopping now?”
He made a face. “I’m in a tough spot to give you advice, because there’s no way this is going to come out without me looking as if I wasn’t being mercenary.”
Just when she thought she had figured it all out, he lost her again. “Mercenary? Are you planning to auction me back to this long-lost relative?”
The look of horror on his face was mixed with too much worry.
“Oh my God, just tell me who it is,” she demanded.
“Timothy Carlyn.”
21
Kelli waited outside the motel room door, glancing at the rough condition of the place as she compared it with the over-the-top hotel where they’d first met the man. The motel was most often occupied by road crews looking for a place to lay their heads and not people used to luxury or even comfort.
Mr. Carlyn was obviously serious to be willing to put up with these conditions.
She held a little tighter to Luke’s fingers. “You should’ve told him to meet us at your house.”
Luke didn’t answer, because the door swung open in front of them, and the somewhat familiar features of the older gentleman she’d met in Kananaskis Country came into view.
