Just as she expected, the milk left a coating inside her mouth. She swallowed and determinedly took another gulp. Hadn’t Jake heard about bad cholesterol? Molly religiously read food labels as she made her grocery selections.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s—” She cleared her throat. A string of something slimy dangled from her uvula. It’s lovely. I’ve never tasted raw milk.”
His dark eyebrows lifted. “A dyed-in-the-wool farm girl, huh?”
Too late, Molly realized her mistake. Someone who’d been around farms all her life would have tasted raw milk countless times. “I’m just calorie conscious, is all. Skim milk is only eighty per cup.”
He pushed easily to his feet. The firelight threw his shadow across the room, the outline of his Stetson nearly spilling onto her toes. He strode slowly toward her, every tap of his boot heels making her nerves jump. Oh, God. She really, really wished he would stop looking at her like that.
“I hope you’re not dieting,” he said matter-of-factly.
Molly flashed him an incredulous look, which he met with that twinkling gaze she found so unsettling.
“Let me guess. You don’t conform to all the weight charts for a woman your height, so you think you’re over-weight.” Without waiting for her answer, he shook his head and added, “Those damned charts are for women with average builds, and trust me, honey, yours isn’t average.”
Was he toying with her? Maybe that was it. To some men, the thrill of making a conquest was everything, and they’d sleep with just about anyone to stroke their egos. Well, if that was his game, he could count her out.
He kept coming. Tap, shuffle … tap, shuffle. He had the cowboy saunter perfected to an art, she’d give him that, his long legs lazily marking off strides, his lean hips shifting loosely. She tried to avoid his gaze, but the closer he came, the harder it was. His shadow finally fell over her.
She flicked her gaze to his, couldn’t look away. No maybe to it, the man had a gleam in his eyes. Was he trying to make her nervous? There was an alarming thought, and now that she came to think of it, that made perfect sense. This afternoon, she’d sensed that he was suspicious of her story. If he’d come over to pump her for information, he would be able to dig more out of her if he kept her rattled.
“You don’t warm up to men very easily, do you?” he said, his deep voice laced with humor as he circled the table to take a seat across from her. “Are you this way with everyone, or is it just me? I can’t recall ever making a lady so tense.”
Maybe all of them had been brain dead, Molly decided. “I’m not nervous. What makes you think that?”
He smiled and nudged his hat back to study her. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
“Why would I be afraid?”
He rocked the chair back on its hind legs and hooked his thumbs over his belt, which made him look all the broader through the shoulders. “We’re a long way from town. It just occurred to me that maybe you’re worried. You don’t know me from Adam. If I had any meanness in mind, you could be in a peck of trouble.”
Molly tried to moisten her lips, struggled to swallow. Her mouth was dry as dirt. “Thank you so much for pointing that out. Now I have something new to worry about.”
He laughed sheepishly and bent his head. There was a piece of hay stuck to the crown of his hat. When he glanced back up, his eyes were warm with a mixture of amusement and regret. “I only brought it up because I don’t want you feeling uneasy. My mama will vouch for me if you want a character reference.”
“Your mother?“
“You bet. Nobody knows a man better than his mama. She’ll tell you I’m a gentleman, for all my rough edges. If I’m not, just let her know, and she’ll snatch me bald-headed.”
Molly smiled in spite of herself.
He winked and grinned. “Don’t believe anything else she says, however. Like most moms, she keeps a list of my faults, which she’s willing to share with almost anyone who’ll listen.”
“How long a list?”
“Pretty damned long. I think she’s been keeping notes since I was about five. I’m one-track minded, bullheaded, quick to lose my temper, and in sore need of some polish, according to her.” He winked at her again. “She’s fond of saying that I think tact is what the teacher sat on. I keep telling her that being direct is a virtue. I may not have much talent for beating around the bush, but at least people know where they stand with me.”
“That’s good to know.”
“I’m glad you think so, because I don’t plan to beat around the bush with you, either.”
Molly’s heart did a funny little jig at the base of her throat. She felt as if she were about to choke on a lump of vibrating Jell-O. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”
“You will be soon enough.” He gave her another long, searching look. His jaw muscle started to tick. “I know you stole the horse, Molly.”
She was going to have a heart attack. “Why on earth do you think that?”
His lashes dipped low over his eyes, but even so she glimpsed a glimmer of impatience. “I don’t think, I know. There’s no point in trying to snow me. Save yourself the effort.”
She had no idea how he’d found out, but there was no doubt that he knew. She could almost hear the key turning in the lock. “H-have you already turned m-me in?” she asked, her voice quivering like a reed whistle.
As quickly as it had come, the impatience left his eyes. “Do I look like the kind of guy who’d turn a lady in?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled and scratched his temple. “I have no intention of turning you in. You have my word on that.”
Molly’s heart was still jumping in her chest. “How did you find out?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re a lousy liar.”
“No, really.” She glanced nervously toward the door. “I need to know. Have the police been here? Is that how you found out? I knew it was a mistake to stop at that rest area. With Sunset kicking up such a fuss, people were bound to notice me.”
He sighed and crossed his arms. “No cops have been here, Molly. You’re perfectly safe. No one has tracked you down.” He paused for emphasis. “Not yet, anyway. But how long will that last, do you think? You can’t steal an expensive animal like Sunset and hope to get away with it. This is the electronic age. Law enforcement communication is lightning fast. They’re going to find you, the only question being, how soon.”
She was going to be sick. What he said was true, and she knew it. If she stayed in one place, they would find her sooner or later. She clamped a trembling hand to her midriff. Bile rose up her throat.
“I suppose you’d like me to leave.” She sat straighter on the chair. “That’s fine. I understand. You don’t want any trouble, and I can’t blame you.” She dropped the ball of plastic wrap on the floor and grabbed the edge of the table to stand up. “Luckily, I didn’t unpack anything. It won’t take me long to load my car back—”
He sat forward in the chair, the front legs smacking the floor so sharply that she jerked. He snaked out a hand to capture her wrist. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said softly. “Get that thought right out of your head.”
His grip was like steel, the press of his fingers relentless. Molly stared into his eyes, a dozen horrible thoughts circling through her mind. The one that finally gained front stage was that he meant to keep her there against her will.
“Sit down,” he said softly.
She sat. Gaped at him. Struggled to breathe.
He lightened his grip on her wrist, his gaze still locked with hers. As his fingers relaxed, she thought about jerking away and running. But then she remembered how quickly he had moved that day in the corral. He’d be on her before she took two steps.
“Now I’ve frightened you.”
Molly gulped back hysterical laughter. She almost said, “Go to the head of the class.”
“I’m not going to harm you, Molly,” he said, his voice hus
ky with sincerity. “I only want to help you.”
“Oh.” Her heart fluttered back down to where it belonged. Sort of, anyway. He wouldn’t be the first man to lie to her, and she had no idea if his word could be trusted.
“I don’t know what led you to steal the horse,” he went on. “I can only guess. But whatever your reasons, they won’t matter a whit when the police finally find you. They’ll toss you in jail and throw away the key.”
Actually, they’d probably take her back to a clinic, but why split hairs? Though she had eventually benefited by her stay at Haven Rest, the place had been a jail of sorts.
She wondered what her therapist, Sam Banks, would say if he could see her now. He wouldn’t be pleased. Stealing that horse had not been a smart move.
Molly bent her head, stared numbly at the scarred table-top. She would not have regrets. No matter what happened, she’d made the best decision she could at the time, and it was pointless to start second-guessing herself now.
“I think you desperately need a friend, honey,” Jake said, his voice pitched to barely above a whisper. “Won’t you trust me?” He slowly trailed a fingertip over her wrist bone. “Tell me what happened. I’ll help you get things straightened out.”
The starch went out of Molly’s spine. She was relieved that he didn’t intend to do her any physical harm, but this was almost as bad. She couldn’t tell him what had happened. He’d never believe it, for one. It was all so insane, she could scarcely believe it herself.
No. If she told him her story, he’d automatically assume she was crazy, like everyone else. A woman’s husband of ten years didn’t have her committed unless there was truly something wrong with her. Right?
Wrong. If a man was trying to cover up a murder and gain control of a large inheritance, he’d do almost anything. Only who was going to believe that? Certainly not Jake. It sounded like something straight out of an Alfred Hitchcock thriller. The fact that her own mother had turned against her made it look even worse.
When Molly just sat there, close-lipped, Jake sighed and released her wrist. “All right,” he said as he sat back on his chair. “You’re not ready to talk yet. I can see that, and I won’t press you. But know, even as I say that, Molly, sooner or later you’re going to have to. If you wait until the cops are slapping cuffs on you, it may be too late for me to do anything.”
“You can’t do anything now,” she managed to squeeze out. “Nothing.”
“There are animal protection agencies I can call. One look at that horse, and they’ll be up in arms. If we report this right away, I’m sure they’ll intervene on your behalf with the police. Horse theft is against the law, no question about it. But if you did it to protect the poor animal, it’s understandable, and they’ll go to bat for you. I know they will.”
Molly just stared at him.
“Won’t you please call them?” he urged. “Or let me call them for you? I realize you’re frightened of something, and I’m sure you’ve got good reason to be. But you can’t let that cloud your judgment. You’ll only dig yourself a deeper hole by waiting.”
“Where were the animal protection agencies this morning?” she wanted to scream. Rodney had threatened to return to the stable with a gun and kill Sonora Sunset, and all the trainer had gotten was a stupid voice mail message when he’d tried to call the Humane Society. The police hadn’t been any help, either. They had no facilities to board abused animals, they’d told the trainer. If the owner of the horse returned with a gun, they would send out an officer, but other than that, there was nothing to be done until the Humane Society returned the trainer’s call.
Molly was in up to her neck because of the blasted agencies. They’d failed Sonora Sunset when he needed them most. Rodney had flown into a mindless rage because the horse had lost a race. When the trainer called Molly out to the stable and she’d seen how cruelly her ex-husband had whipped the stallion, she hadn’t doubted for a minute that he might return with a gun to finish him. What should she have done? Let the horse be shot?
She hadn’t been able to do that. No matter what the cost to herself, she just hadn’t been able to do that.
It was too late for the animal protection agencies to step in now. She was a recently released mental ward patient, still on probation and under a doctor’s care, and she’d stolen a sixty-five thousand dollar horse. How would that look? By the time Rodney finished putting his spin on it, Molly knew exactly how it would look.
“Is it your ex?” Jake asked. “Is that who you’re afraid of?”
“Yes,” she said hollowly.
He sighed and passed a hand over his eyes, then rested his arms loosely on the table. “There’s no reason to be afraid of him now.”
“You don’t know him.”
A glint came into his eyes. “I know this. The bastard won’t lay a hand on you. He’ll have to go through me first. If I can’t kick his ass, there’ll be ten men standing in line behind me to do the honors.”
He thought Rodney might beat her? Molly nearly corrected that misconception, but by doing so, she would be paving the way for him to ask more questions she didn’t wish to answer.
The threat from Rodney wasn’t physical. It had never been physical. Given Sunset’s deplorable condition, Molly could see how Jake might think so, but in actuality, what Rodney would do to her would be far worse. If he found her, he would strike blows with treachery and lies.
Molly would never underestimate her ex-husband again. Never. She had hoped to find temporary sanctuary on the Lazy J, but now she saw that staying here wasn’t an option. Jake Coulter knew just enough to be dangerous. She couldn’t take a chance that he might take matters into his own hands and call the authorities behind her back, believing that would be best for her in the long run.
She’d saved Sunset from taking a bullet. Now the horse was safely in Jake’s possession. That was the best she could do for him.
Chapter Six
Jake was about to plant a boot on the bottom step of his front porch when he hesitated and glanced back through the darkness at the cabin. He couldn’t forget the frantic expression he’d seen in Molly’s eyes. At times during their conversation, she had put him in mind of a caged animal searching desperately for a way out. Now that he’d left her alone, he was afraid she might run.
What would happen to her then? Jake suspected she was fleeing from an abusive ex-husband who flew into maniacal rages. If Sunset’s deplorable condition was any indication, the man was downright dangerous. What might happen to Molly if the bastard caught her off alone? It didn’t even bear thinking about.
He shifted his gaze to her Toyota, which was still parked near the porch of the cabin. He smiled thoughtfully and swung back around. Fearing that the horse might raise another ruckus, he kept well away from the corral as he stealthily retraced his steps.
“What the hell is that?” Hank demanded when Jake entered the house later.
Stepping down into the great room, Jake glanced at the object he held in one hand. “What’s it look like?”
Hank, who’d been reclining on the couch with a cold beer, sat forward on the cushion and frowned. “It looks like a rotor.”
Jake tossed the object in question on the burl coffee table he’d built a few months back. “If it looks like a rotor, I reckon that’s probably what it is.
“Where’d it come from?”
Jake swept off his Stetson and tossed it on the table as well. “The same place most rotors do.” He thrust his fingers through his hair, combing away the ring left by his hat. “Out of a distributor.”
Hank narrowed an eye. “Whose?”
“Take a wild guess.”
Jake struck off for the kitchen. After the day he’d had, that ice-cold beer looked mighty good.
Hank leaped up to follow on his heels. “You didn’t.“
Opening the refrigerator door of the old avocado-green side-by-side he’d borrowed from his parents, Jake said, “I had to do something to be sure she stayed put.”
“I thought you gave her a job, that she was going to stay on here and work for us.”
“That changed.”
“When?”
“When I told her I knew she’d stolen the horse.”
An amazed look passed over Hank’s dark face.
Jake rushed to add, “I figured she’d feel better if everything was out in the open. Needless to say, it sort of back-fired.” He plucked a bottle of beer off the top shelf, bumped the door closed with his hip, and tossed the bottle cap into the trash under the sink. “I was afraid she’d try to skedaddle, so I fixed it so she can’t.”
A slight smile touched Hank’s mouth. Jake chugged some beer to wet his throat, then eyed his brother as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Go ahead and spit it out. I can see you’re about to choke on it.”
Hank shook his head. After taking a long pull from his beer, he took a seat. The homemade chair he chose was the one that wobbled, compliments of an overlong leg that no one had found time to shorten. He shifted to balance his weight.
“I know tampering with her car was a chicken-shit thing to do,” Jake confessed. “But I couldn’t think of any other way to keep her here. Just the thought of letting her leave scares the ever-loving hell out of me.”
“I can’t say as I blame you there,” Hank agreed. “Whoever whipped that horse has a screw loose. I’d hate for him to take after a woman like that.” Rocking the chair onto its back legs, he fixed Jake with an inquiring look. “She’s going to be royally pissed when she discovers her rig won’t start, you know.”
“She’ll only be pissed if she realizes I’m responsible.”
Hank’s eyes filled with amusement. “Did you put the distributor cap back on so she can’t tell anything’s missing?”
Jake’s only response was a grin.
“It’ll be just your luck that the lady’s an ace mechanic.”
“Not a chance.” Chuckling, Jake straddled a chair to face his brother. “She’s probably never even checked her own oil.”
Sweet Nothings Page 7
