Working her way down the aisle with her phone light, she found the gin and vodka. She wasn’t looking to make cocktails, so she kept going, being careful not to bump into the displays on the endcaps. A car drove by slowly outside—probably some poor soul heading home from working the night shift somewhere. She found the good stuff behind the checkout counter.
“Sorry, Dad,” she whispered. Hopefully, he’d forgive her for helping herself to store inventory. It was a small price to pay for bringing her back to Gallant Lake ahead of schedule. She’d really been hoping for a few weeks on a beach somewhere before she swallowed her pride and moved back home with Dad to figure out her next steps. It wasn’t as if Dad planned on falling off that ladder, but it had succeeded in giving him what he’d wanted—one of his children running the family business. At least for now.
Well played, Dad.
She tore the wax seal from the bottle and tugged the top off. Reaching under the counter, she found the heavy crystal tumblers Dad always kept handy for after-hours tastings with friends. Her phone sat on the counter near the cash register, light shining upward, casting soft shadows, but the old-fashioned streetlights on Main Street spread enough light into the store that she didn’t need it. Those lights were new, and she liked the quaint atmosphere they created in the village. The rim of the glass had just touched her lips when she heard the muted groan of the back door closing.
No. It couldn’t be. She’d locked it. She was sure she’d locked the door. But that was definitely the same sound the door made when she’d come into the store. A hot flush of adrenaline washed under her skin, spiking her heart rate to the point where it threatened to jump straight out of her chest. Would the intruder be able to hear it? Because there was no doubt in her mind—there was an intruder. Someone had just let themselves into the store in darkness. Time seemed to slow as she listened to what were definitely soft footsteps coming down the hall.
Now what? Hide? Run? Scream? No. She’d vowed to herself on the drive over here from Greenwich that she was done acting meek and playing nice. This was Wallace Liquors. She was Mackenzie Wallace, and she wasn’t going to let some low-life criminal mess with her family’s business.
She swallowed the scream still threatening to break free. She needed a plan. A fast one, because there was another footstep. Damn it, she wasn’t good at thinking on the fly. Good girls who never got in trouble didn’t need escape plans. Her shoulders straightened. Good thing she wasn’t a good girl anymore, wasn’t it? She took a quick inventory.
Her phone was only a few feet away, but with the flashlight app still on, it would send a beam of light moving around and draw the intruder’s attention to her location. Calling 911 would mean speaking aloud, again exposing her to the bastard who’d dared to enter her father’s store while Dad was lying in a hospital bed. Fear began to morph into rage. She pulled the hood up over her long blond hair and toed off her shoes for silence. Logical or not, she couldn’t help thinking the element of surprise was her greatest advantage.
What would Dad do in this situation? She reached under the counter and smiled. There it was. Dad’s old baseball bat, suspended on brackets. He’d always called it his “burglar alarm.” Mack slowly lifted and removed the bat. This would at least give her a chance. If she scared him away, or even incapacitated him a little, she’d have time to call for help. Or run.
She crept toward the back corner by the hallway. This was just the perfect end to a far-from-perfect day. Focus, Mackenzie. She heard one footstep. Another. He was at the end of the hall. The beam of a flashlight cut into the darkness. If she didn’t move now, he’d see her with his next step. She raised the bat, breathed a quick prayer and stepped forward, swinging with every ounce of strength she had.
There was a sharp, shouted curse, and the next thing she knew, she was being slammed against the wall so hard she saw stars. The bat was wrenched out of her hand, her body spun to face the wall, her arm twisted so high behind her back she was sure it was going to break. Something hard and cold touched her neck, directly under her ear. Her bad day just got a whole lot worse. For the first time, it occurred to her that this could be her last day.
Was this really what her final moment on this earth would be like? Half-dressed, defending her dad’s liquor store in freaking Gallant Lake, New York? It hardly seemed fair. Her vision blurred, but she refused to pass out and let this jerk have his way without a fight. Focus!
In between some of the harshest swear words she’d ever heard, she heard some others that refused to compute.
“Don’t move, you son of a...”
Swear. Swear. Swear.
“Give me your other hand.”
Swear. Swear. Swear.
“You’re under arrest, pal.”
Wait.
What?
She tried to make eye contact, but he had her face pressed so tightly to the wall she could hardly breathe, much less move.
“Arrest? Wait, no... Are you...a cop?”
There was no humor in his responding laughter. “Yeah, it’s your lucky night. Breaking and entering and assaulting a police officer. You picked the wrong town...”
Mack gathered the deepest breath she could, blinking back tears at the pain in her arms.
“I’m not a thief! This is my father’s store! I didn’t break into anything. I used a key!”
A thick, tense blanket of silence fell on the hallway. Not a sound. No breathing. No movement. Finally, the pressure on her arms and against her chest eased. He stepped back half a step. The man’s voice went from cold and commanding to incredulous.
“Mackenzie?”
* * *
Deputy Sheriff Dan Adams willed his heart to fall back into a steady rhythm again, but the damn thing wouldn’t cooperate. He’d expected to confront some dumb-ass teens looking for trouble in Carl’s store. The whole town knew about Carl’s fall from a ladder. The popular local businessman had ended up with broken ribs and a badly broken ankle. Dan figured some punk was taking advantage of Carl’s situation to get some free booze or easy drug money. The one thing he didn’t expect? Seeing the distinctive dark shape of a baseball bat whipping toward his face.
At that point, his training took over. He went through the motions without a lot of thought. Other than thinking he was royally pissed off.
Disarm the perpetrator. Subdue him. Restrain him.
Express extreme displeasure with the perp’s behavior.
Throw him in the car and haul him to jail.
And then the perpetrator spoke. A woman spoke. And claimed to be Carl’s daughter.
Well, son of a...
Carl only had one girl.
Dan reached up and tugged at the hood, uncovering a tumble of thick blond hair.
Mackenzie freakin’ Wallace.
He’d just held a nightstick to the head of Mackenzie Wallace. Little Mack. The sweet baby sister of his best friend in high school. She was still face-planted against the wall, probably afraid to move, even though he’d released her. That was when the old protective feeling kicked in, along with a flood of horror at how many ways this could have gone seriously wrong.
“Jeez, Mack, what the hell?” Dan turned her around. “I could have killed you. You know that, right? What the fu...what are you doing here?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Danny? Danny Adams?”
He spread his hands. “I go by Deputy Sheriff Adams these days.”
That didn’t seem to compute.
“You’re a cop? You?”
As Dan studied the look on her face, he couldn’t blame her for whatever mix of anger and shock she was feeling. If he’d seen teenage him do some of the things she had seen growing up, he wouldn’t believe it, either. But that was a different time. A different Dan. He took another step back, but he had to ask.
“Mackenzie, seriously.” He looked down at long, bare legs.
“Are you naked under that hoodie? What are you doing in here at two o’clock in the morning?”
Her voice chilled. “What are you doing in here at two o’clock in the morning, Deputy Sheriff Adams? Besides assaulting innocent women on their own damn property?”
He understood why she was ticked off. He’d scared her. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I drove by, saw someone moving around in here with a flashlight and investigated. Your dad gave me a key years ago. I had no idea you were back in town.”
“I didn’t know I had to check in with the sheriff when I arrived.” Sharp words, but some of the fire left her voice. Mackenzie rubbed her wrist, and Dan felt a stab of guilt.
“I’m sorry, Mack. You had the hood up, I had no way of knowing...”
“Was that a gun I felt against my neck?”
“Was that a baseball bat I saw swinging at my face?”
She gave a short laugh, and Dan felt something shift a little in his chest. It was the husky laughter of a grown woman, not the giggle of the cute little pigtailed girl from his memories. She nodded, running her fingers through her hair to push it off her face.
“Fair enough. I couldn’t get to sleep, and Dad didn’t have any good stuff upstairs. So I figured I’d pull a Ryan and help myself.”
“That’s definitely something your brother would do.” Dan frowned into the darkness. Ryan and Mack had always been as different as night and day, with Mackie being the Goody Two-shoes to Ryan’s wild ways.
“I don’t suppose you can join me while you’re on duty?”
“Join...?”
“There’s an open bottle of very expensive scotch on the counter, just waiting for someone to enjoy it.” She laughed again, softly this time. “And I’d really like to hear the story of how Danger Dan turned into a lawman.”
Dan grimaced. He hated that stupid nickname Ryan made up, especially coming from Mack. Even if he had earned it back then.
“Is your husband waiting upstairs?” Dan wasn’t sure where that question came from, but, to be fair, all Mack ever talked about was leaving Gallant Lake, having a big wedding and a bigger house. The girl had goals, and from what he’d heard, she’d reached every one of them.
“I don’t have a husband anymore.” She brushed past him and headed toward the counter. “So are you joining me or not?”
Dan glanced at his watch, not sure how to digest that information. “I’m off duty in fifteen minutes.”
Her long hair swung back and forth as she walked ahead of him. So did her hips. Damn.
“And you’re all about following the rules now? You really have changed. Pity. I guess I’m drinking my first glass alone. You’ll just have to catch up.”
He frowned. Mackenzie had been strong willed, but never sassy. Never the type to sneak into her father’s store alone for an after-hours drink. Not the type to taunt him. Not the type to break the rules.
Looked like he wasn’t the only one who’d changed since high school.
Copyright © 2020 by Jo McNally
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ISBN: 9781488069475
A Chance for the Rancher
Copyright © 2020 by Brenda Harlen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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A Chance for the Rancher Page 23
