Restless Hearts

by B. J Daniels

  “So did we.”

  “Jake—”

  He sat up so they were face-to-face again. “You cannot possibly doubt that.”

  She chewed at her cheek for a long moment. “You hurt me.”

  He nodded soberly. “I did that and I have been sorry ever since. If I had it to do over—”

  She pushed off the couch. “Well, you won’t get the chance. I’m going to bed.”

  He knew better than to try to change her mind by simply apologizing again. It was going to take a whole lot more than that—just like in the movie, where the hero had to prove himself. Wasn’t that why he was here?

  Jake sat back on the couch and then called over his shoulder as he listened to her pad barefoot down the hallway, “I really do like your pajamas.” She didn’t answer but he thought he heard her chuckle. She didn’t believe that he could like baggy flannel pj’s on her any more than she believed how sorry he was about hurting her.

  Rising to his feet, he took the empty bowl to the kitchen, grabbed his coat from where he’d left it by the door and then headed for the bunkhouse. As he stepped outside, he felt the cold air circle around him to steal his breath. Snuggling down into the collar of his coat, he tromped on the crusty frozen ground toward the bunkhouse.

  The night was cold and clear, and stars dusted Montana’s big night sky. To the north, he saw light shooting up in spectacular colors. The northern lights. He couldn’t let Blaze miss this. Like him, he doubted she’d seen them since they’d both left Montana.

  Turning back, he spotted her standing outside the back door of the house. Her face was turned up to the lights. He saw that she was as taken with the sight as if it were her first time. He’d seen that expression on her face before during their lovemaking.

  He smiled as he studied her in the ethereal lights, feeling that familiar ache to tear down the wall she’d built around her heart. He’d gotten a pretty good start on it the last time they were together—until things had gone awry.

  But now, he’d caught her in the magic of the moment, and it gave him a thrill that raised goose bumps over his flesh and sent a shiver through him that was both wonder and desire.

  She seemed to sense she was being watched, her gaze shifting in his direction. He held his breath, freezing in place, feeling guilty for this intimate moment he’d witnessed and at the same time, blessed.

  Blaze hugged herself before stepping back inside, the moment lost. The sky seemed less spectacular as he turned and walked on to the bunkhouse. As he did, he became more aware of the ice crystals dancing in the air and the scent of snow on the slight breeze.

  It was late November, so it wasn’t as if he thought they could get away without having a snowstorm. But he’d hoped it would hold off a little longer. This far out of town, it would be difficult to come and go.

  The lawyer would be driving in tomorrow and staying at the only hotel in Saddle Butte. Blaze was anxious to talk to the man, even more anxious for her father to talk to him. She wouldn’t let a snowstorm stop her, no matter how much it put down tonight.

  He reached the bunkhouse, slowing just outside to take one last look at the sky before turning in for the night. He felt himself riding again with the stampeding buffalo as he lay down and closed his eyes. He’d thought he’d have trouble sleeping, but, pleased with the day he’d had, he dropped right off.

  Waking with a start at daylight, he found Blaze standing over him. His first thought was to grab her and pull her down onto the bed with him, but the look in her eyes made him think better of it.

  “What time is it?” he asked, blinking at the light coming through the bunkhouse window. The dream he’d been in the middle of still hung around him. He’d been racing across the prairie in the middle of a thousand buffalo, his hair blowing back, the air cool on his bare chest as he straddled the fastest horse he’d ever ridden, Blaze with her arms around him, daring him to go faster.

  “The attorney just called. We’re meeting him in town for breakfast,” Blaze said and turned on her heel to leave.

  Against his better judgment, he reached for her, his fingers barely skimming hers as she left. He groaned. “I’ll get a shower and be right there.”

  * * *

  BLAZE STARED OUT at the prairie as it swept past the truck window. It had snowed just enough last night to dust the landscape in white. Cold air pressed at the pickup’s cab, while inside it felt almost too comfortable.

  It made her think of Jake this morning, curled up in the bunkhouse. She’d watched him sleep for a few moments before she’d awakened him. He’d looked so tranquil. She suspected that he’d slept like a baby.

  That was the difference between them. She’d lain in bed last night reliving the stampede and her fear seeing Jake in the middle of those thundering buffalo. Her heart still pounded at even the thought of it. She wanted those men caught and punished, even as she knew that was never going to happen. Judge Landusky often warned her against wanting things that were impossible.

  Like her and Jake. This morning as she’d looked down at him sleeping so peacefully, she’d wanted to pinch him. Or throw ice water on him. Worse, climb in beside him and soak up his male warmth radiating from under the covers.

  “What if you can’t change your father’s mind?” Jake asked as he drove.

  “I don’t even want to think about that right now,” she said. “After we talk to the lawyer...”

  “If we have a heavy snow, it’s going to be harder to feed the buffalo. I can handle it since your father has a barn filled with hay. With that artesian well on the property, I can also get them watered. But I think you need to consider the long term. Even if your father pleads not guilty and goes to trial...”

  Blaze shot him a look. “We really need to talk about this right now?”

  “No,” he said, unruffled. “We could talk about you and me instead.”

  “I know what you’re getting at.”

  “You do?” He sounded surprised as he looked from his driving to her.

  “What am I going to do with the ranch and animals if my father pleads guilty and goes to prison for the rest of his life?”

  Jake let out a chuckle. “Blaze, I’m fine with being your hired ranch hand for as long as this takes with your father, but after that...” He glanced over at her again.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked into his eyes. She knew damned well what he was asking and quickly looked away. “Fine, if I can’t sell right away, I’ll hire help.” She could see that he was about to argue that she hadn’t been able to keep the help she had. What made her think she could just hire someone given the problems with the neighboring ranchers?

  “You’re making me wish I’d taken my own pickup,” she said grudgingly.

  He grinned but said nothing as he drove, and she leaned back, closed her eyes and fought tears. Why did she have to treat him like this? Because he wanted more than she could give. She’d surrendered a huge piece of her heart to him only to have him break it. She refused to chance that again. Even if they hadn’t been all wrong for each other. She knew him, knew that he wanted that happy ending from the movie last night, complete with kids. He wanted her and a family.

  How could she have a family being a private investigator? Her job often took her out of state. It was often dangerous. He was asking her to give that up to do what? Marry him?

  What was she thinking? Jake didn’t think in long-term anything. He lived for the moment. He’d never mentioned marriage. She reminded herself what had happened last time. He’d wanted her, but their intense relationship had scared him—just as it had her. That was where the other woman had come in. An old friend he had to help? If that didn’t sound like a made-up story, she didn’t know what did. He hadn’t even put up a fight when she’d packed her things to leave. The memory still hurt.

  She mentally shook her head, trying to clear her th
oughts. It was like he said—the judge had sent him. That was all this was and when it was over, they’d go their separate ways. Just like last time, she thought as the small Western town of Saddle Butte appeared on the horizon.

  * * *

  JAKE STEWED ALL the way to town. Blaze McClintock was the most stubborn, contrary woman he’d ever met. And the most captivating, smart and sexy. Damn, but she was amazing. He’d let her go once. For her own good, not that she understood that. But he’d never gotten over her and now he knew he never would.

  That was why he’d begged the judge to let him help her on this case with her father. The judge had planned to send someone else.

  “What’s going on with the two of you?” Judge WT Landusky had demanded in his no-nonsense tone.

  “Right now, she’s not happy with me, but—”

  “Whose fault is that?”

  “Mine, but—”

  “You sincerely want to help her, or do you have another agenda?”

  He’d cleared his throat, surprised how much emotion came to the surface when he even thought of Blaze. “I know her. This is going to be really hard for her. She’ll need me.”

  “How noble,” the man had ground out. “What are you really after?” It was so like the judge to cut past the bull to the heart of the matter.

  “I want her back.”

  “Back? What does that even mean? You can’t be talking marriage because you’re not the marrying type. Your words, not mine.”

  “People change.”

  The judge had grunted. “We wish. You’d better be sure of what exactly you’re after and that it is in Blaze’s best interests. Do I have to tell you how unhappy I would be if you hurt her again?”

  “Did she—”

  “Talk to me about it?” The judge had let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “You just told me that you know her. Do you really think she would tell me anything about the two of you? I saw her when she came back from the last project the two of you worked on. That was enough to know what happened.”

  Jake wasn’t in the habit of pouring his heart out. “She’s all I think about. I haven’t been able to get over her. I know you don’t approve, but—”

  “I never said that. I just don’t want you to hurt her again or this will be the last time I let you work together.”

  “I won’t hurt her. I promise you. If she’ll take me... I want to grow old with her, raise a passel of children, spend the rest of my life loving her.”

  “And you told her this?”

  “Not yet. I’m hoping to find the right time.”

  “With Blaze, there won’t be the perfect time.” The judge scoffed. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

  Jake parked in front of the local eatery, The Cattleman Café. As they climbed out, he said, “Gotta love the name.”

  Blaze merely grunted. She was definitely in a mood this morning. He wanted to ask how she’d slept, but thought better of it, suspecting she hadn’t and that was part of the problem.

  Clarkston Evans was waiting for them in a back room of the café with a cup of coffee in front of him and the local newspaper spread out beside the cup. He was writing on a legal pad as they walked in.

  He gave them only a passing glance before he said, “I’m starving. Signal the waitress so we can place our breakfast orders. While they’re cooking it up, we can talk. You want coffee? Have her bring in a carafe and some cups.” He told them his order and turned his attention back to what he’d been writing down.

  Jake had heard that the man was no-nonsense on the verge of rude, but he’d also heard that he was damned good at his job.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jake offered. “The usual?” he asked Blaze.

  She hesitated, looking momentarily annoyed that he knew her so well. But she nodded as she sat down across from the lawyer. “Thanks. Tell the waitress to make that coffee hot and black, real strong.”

  Clarkston looked up at her, smiled and continued his writing until Jake returned with the cups and carafe filled with coffee.

  * * *

  BLAZE HAD BEEN sipping her coffee, trying to get enough caffeine in her that she could face this day without scowling. She’d definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

  “So, Ms. McClintock,” the attorney said.

  She looked up in surprise that he had finally acknowledged her presence. Patience was not her long suit.

  Clarkston Evans had finally quit writing on his notepad. He pushed it aside. “Tell me what you know about the case.”

  “Only what I read in the file, which isn’t much.” She handed him the manila envelope Dave had left for her at the jail yesterday. Last night, when she couldn’t sleep, she’d finally opened it and looked through the evidence against her father. It was pretty cut-and-dried—if the gun her father had been holding had killed Frank Anson. She had no reason to believe it wasn’t the murder weapon.

  “Tell me what it says,” Clarkston said as the waitress brought in their breakfast platters. “I’ll read it later.” He had picked up his fork and was shoveling in his food. She took a bite of her own breakfast and glanced over at Jake.

  He was sipping his coffee and watching her. When she met his gaze, he gave her a reassuring smile. It didn’t help. She felt anxious and worried. Right now, it felt as if getting a criminal lawyer all the way up here had been a waste of time.

  “My father was found standing over the victim, a gun in his hand.”

  “By whom?” the lawyer asked.

  “A ranch hand on the Garrison place named Everett Banks. Banks said that he’d heard a couple of shots and came riding. He said Monte dropped the pistol as he approached. He saw Frank dead, asked my father what had happened, but all Monte did was shake his head. Everett called the sheriff’s office.”

  Clarkston chewed, swallowed, wiped his mouth and asked, “Where did this happen?”

  “Just inside the Anson property next to our ranch.”

  “In sight of the Anson house?” the lawyer asked with what seemed like renewed interest. “Did Mrs. Anson witness the shooting?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve seen your father. What did he tell you?”

  “Nothing. He wants to plead guilty.”

  That didn’t seem to surprise the man. He finished his breakfast, pushed away the plate and dumped the contents of the envelope she’d given him out on the table. “I don’t see the ballistics report in here.”

  “I got the impression it wasn’t back yet.”

  The lawyer raised a brow. “So we don’t know for sure that the gun he was holding was the murder weapon.”

  “I believe the sheriff thinks it’s a done deal.”

  “Hmm,” Clarkston said, then drank his coffee before he added, “let’s go see your father.”

  By then, she’d eaten what she could of her breakfast while answering his questions. Jake had put away his egg sandwich without any trouble. He always slept and ate like a man with a clear conscience, she thought with irritation as she pushed her plate away and rose.

  “I’ll take care of the check,” Jake said quietly as he, too, got to his feet, “and meet you at the jail.”

  * * *

  JAKE FOUND BLAZE and the attorney sitting in a visiting room, waiting for Monte to be brought in. He could tell she was nervous and impatient. Her father had made it clear yesterday that he wanted to plead guilty and that he wanted her to stay out of it.

  When Monte came through the door, he didn’t seem surprised to see the lawyer sitting on the opposite side of the table, waiting for him. He put a hand on Blaze’s shoulder for a moment before he pulled up a chair. The shackles he’d been wearing the day before had been removed. Jake figured that was the attorney’s doing.

  “This is a waste of money,” Monte said to Blaze while looking at the lawyer. “I’m sur
e she’s told you, I want to plead guilty. I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time coming up here.” Jake realized that Monte had recognized the attorney and knew he’d gotten a reputation for winning murder cases much larger than his own.

  Clarkston seemed to study the man for a long moment. They were close in age. He seemed to be sizing up Monte. “I won’t let the judge move ahead on this until I see the ballistics report on the gun.”

  Monte swore and turned to Blaze. “I asked you not to do this.”

  “The judge isn’t going to sentence you in a case like this until all the boxes have been checked off,” Clarkston said. “I’m one of those boxes. You seem worried about the ballistics report. Is that because you weren’t holding the gun that killed Frank Anson?”

  Jake watched the rancher lean back in his chair and clamp his mouth shut.

  Blaze was staring at her father in shock. “If you didn’t shoot him...” She frowned. “I was right! You’re covering for someone?” she cried. “Allie. Allie killed her husband?”

  Monte rose so abruptly that he knocked over his chair. “I’ve had enough of this. Let me plead guilty. I just want this over with. I know what I’m doing.”

  “What are you doing?” Clarkston asked. “It’s my job to tell you what will happen if the judge accepts a guilty plea from you. You will go directly to prison, no trial, no chance of seeing freedom for the rest of your life. You’re not a young man, but you’re not that old. You’re talking a lot of years behind bars. I suggest you give that some thought.”

  Monte had turned his back and, stepping to the door, pounded it to be let out. A deputy appeared and took him away.

  “Who is Allie?” the lawyer asked.

  * * *

  BLAZE STORMED INTO the prosecutor’s office after leaving the confines of the visiting room at the sheriff’s office. Dave was on the phone, but he quickly hung up and rose, hands in a gesture that was apparently supposed to calm her down.

  “Where are the ballistics results?” she demanded.

  “These things take time,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Don’t try to snow me.”