Heart So Sweet: Book 3 in the Great Plains Romance Series

by Corrissa James

  Tate would undoubtedly have a good laugh over her actions, probably sharing that laugh with her brothers, who would never let her live it down. He would tell them how she threw herself at him, clung to him, kissed him. She moaned in embarrassment. Her brothers would have a field day with this tidbit of information. And Tate had let her do it, let her make a fool of herself.

  She sat up just as Tate returned to the car with Bruce in tow. “Miss Clark, if you’d like to move to the front passenger side, I’ll put Mr. Garrison in the back here.”

  “What, no department policy anymore?” She sneered at him as she pushed past both men and started walking around the front of the SUV. But instead of turning to head for the passenger side of the vehicle, she continued walking down the road. She wasn’t under arrest. He couldn’t force her to ride with them. In a few miles the road would pass by the lane that led to their farmstead. A nice afternoon walk was just what she needed to work the anger out of her system. Well, maybe not all of her anger, but certainly the embarrassment she felt from having thrown herself at Tate after all these years. The anger that she felt brimming below the surface, the anger that sparked as she remembered him pushing her away at the end of their kiss, frowning—that anger she would let come to a nice frothy boil just as she faced her brothers about their actions from today. After all, had they not gone against her warnings, she would have not been rejected by Tate.

  Susannah slowed a bit. Yes, what had really set her off was his rejection, and she had no doubts that his dark frown had been directed at her. He’d made a point to push her away from him even.

  “Don’t be so stupid, Susannah,” she mumbled. So they’d shared a roadside kiss in the heat of the moment, and he’d returned to reality more quickly than she had. So what? It was over and done and she could move on knowing that a long-forgotten crush wouldn’t lose control and fall into her arms. Such silly daydreams belonged to twelve-year-old girls, not women running the family farm. She had more important things to deal with than a kiss, even if it had been the best kiss she’d ever experienced.

  “I see you’re still a stubborn one, Annie.”

  Susannah whipped around to find Tate standing right behind her, his dimpled smile directed at her, the SUV still parked along the side of the road in the distance.

  “I don’t need an escort, sheriff.” She spoke with what she hoped was an icy tone. “Besides, you have other business to take care of now.”

  Tate took a half step back, a blank mask dropping into place. “Well, now, Miss Clark, I will need you to come down to the office with me, fill out the reports and all—that is, after I get Mr. Garrison some medical attention for his hand.”

  “His hand?”

  Tate shrugged. “I hate paperwork. Wound his shooting hand and nobody looks at it twice. Much easier than killing him.”

  Susannah stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “I forgot about that skill of yours.” She shook her head. “You always knew the easiest path to get what you wanted, didn’t you?”

  “Not always.” He reached out to push a strand of her red hair off her forehead, letting his fingers glide through the rest of her hair. “Listen, Annie. I suppose I should apologize for earlier. I should never have done that—it wasn’t professional of me at all.”

  Susannah stiffened, partly because he could so easily dismiss their kiss as a misstep, but mostly because his fingers in her hair jolted her back to that moment. She could still feel his lips, taste them on her own, and the memory was causing something else to stir deep inside her.

  “I–I’m just gonna walk home.” Her voice was husky, breathless, and she stumbled a bit as she turned to walk away. She had to put some distance between them or she would likely be making a fool of herself again. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following her. She knew that if he touched her, if he grabbed her elbow to lead her back to the car, they would never make it back. She would pull him to the side of the road and make a few more memories with him. She was both relived and disappointed when she saw that he was not coming after her.

  Tate Trudell, back in Harrington County, a fantasy come to life once more.

  Susannah picked up her pace. She needed to get home and confront her brothers, tell them of Tate’s return, get them all on the same page before he showed up looking for answers. But most of all, she needed an ice cold shower.

  Chapter Four

  Tate clenched his fists, telling himself that he could not go after her, he could not force her back into his SUV despite every cell in his body screaming at him to keep her close by. “Get it together, man. You’re the damn sheriff.” He took a deep breath, then forced himself to turn around and walk back to the SUV. He refused to look back at her.

  It was the longest thirty yards of his life.

  By the time he got back to Garrison, Tate’s mood had soured considerably. He knew he shouldn’t take his anger out on Garrison, even though the man deserved it and much, much worse, but if he didn’t get some sort of release soon, he’d lose the little bit of control he was able to maintain. He didn’t like losing control. His control had enabled him to stay out of trouble his entire life, despite being friends with some of the biggest troublemakers ever. He grabbed Garrison’s arm and hefted him to his feet. He couldn’t think about those troublemakers now, because that would lead him back to thoughts about her and her kisses, how kissing her lips made him want to taste other parts of her—her earlobes, her throat, her breasts...

  He yanked Garrison to the SUV and shoved him into the backseat, bashing the man’s skull against the door frame. Garrison howled in pain.

  Tate smiled. “Told you to watch your head.”

  “The hell you did!”

  “Can’t help it if you ignored me.”

  “You stupid Indian. When I get out of here, I’m going to kill you!”

  Tate leaned into the car until he was just inches from Garrison. “I’m going to ignore that you just threatened an officer of the law, and do you know why?” He didn’t let Garrison answer. “Because I know how to torture a man until he pisses himself, all while begging for mercy. I can do things to you that would make scalping look like a walk in the park.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  Tate moved closer and snarled at the man. “Try me. Please.”

  Garrison pulled back as far as he could, opening his mouth to respond but then snapping it shut. Tate glared at him for several more beats before nodding once and slamming the door shut. He turned his back to Garrison and allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction. In reality, he wanted to laugh at how easy it was to manipulate Garrison. Instead, he cleared his throat and put his angry expression back into place, then climbed in the front seat.

  He could still see Annie walking down the road in the distance. Once again he was struck by the desire to chase after her. Who would’ve thought that little Annie Clark would grow up into such a desirable woman? His father, that’s who.

  Tate turned on the SUV as the familiar wave of sadness washed over him. He wished he could tell his father about his unexpected encounter with the delicious Miss Clark. Yes, delicious really was the perfect word to describe her. He glanced in the rear view mirror to see Garrison staring though the windshield. Tate cranked the steering wheel to direct the SUV back the way it had come, swearing that Annie would never have to worry about the likes of Bruce Garrison again. He’d protect Annie from all the trouble Harrison County seemed so good at producing, including her brothers.

  Including himself.

  After dropping Garrison off at the hospital to have his hand looked at and calling a deputy to babysit, Tate returned to the Jameses’ ranch to tie up the loose ends. He hadn’t asked Annie what she was doing on the ranch because he knew it would lead back to her brothers, and she would sacrifice herself to keep them out of harm. Not that it ever did any good. They were notorious for putting themselves in situations that begged for trouble. Yet Annie had always taken after Lucas, even as a chi
ld. And Lucas’s loyalty to their family would not be shaken, not for anything.

  It didn’t take long for Tate to find Annie’s horse. Dalton James offered to board the horse until Annie could return for it, but Tate unexpectedly offered to ride it over to her place that afternoon. As he rode the chestnut horse through the fields, he berated himself for what he was doing. His offer hadn’t been unexpected at all. An hour ago he’d sworn to protect her, but since then he’d been looking for any excuse to see her again without being too obvious.

  “Oh, and riding her horse back to her place isn’t too obvious at all, is it?”

  The horse whinnied, which cause Tate to groan.

  “Even the horse is laughing at me.”

  As they moved closer to the Clark farmstead, Tate had to restrain himself from spurring the horse into a full gallop. He was anxious to see Annie again, but he naturally didn’t want to appear too anxious. Especially if her brothers were around. The last thing he wanted was to give her brothers ammunition to use against him. Gone were the days when he could wallop them into submission if they mouthed off at him. And as sheriff, he had a professional image to maintain.

  Walking the horse down the lane, he now wished he could slow down even more. In his eagerness to see Annie, he’d overlooked the fact that he’d probably have to see Lucas as well, and he doubted that such an encounter would go over well with any of the Clark clan, especially Lucas. Tate was not worried about the other brothers, but Lucas was a different story. He respected Lucas deeply, even if the two hadn’t spoken in a decade. His father had told him about Lucas’s misfortunes, telling his son that, as Lucas’s friend, he should reach out to the man. But Tate knew that Lucas would never accept him back in his life, not after Mary Ellen.

  So what the hell was he doing now, riding up to Lucas’s home with thoughts of bedding his baby sister?

  He remembered the way Annie had pressed her body to his during their kiss, clinging to him as she returned his demanding kiss with just as much passion. He spurred the horse into a light trot. If it meant taking a beating from Lucas, it was better to get it over with.

  At the front door to the farmhouse, he fidgeted, waiting for someone to answer his knocks. He kept his back to the small yellow bungalow to the west of the farmhouse while he said a silent prayer that Lucas wasn’t home, that one of the other brothers would answer the door. The door opened, and Tate turned to see Lucas looking back at him. Tate frowned. He seemed to have fallen out of favor with his spiritual protector.

  The years had not been kind to Lucas, but Tate had expected him to look much worse. The military had bulked him up quite a bit, but his face was unshaven and his straggly hair fell to his chin. Rather than the vibrant, reddish auburn hair of his younger sister, his hair now looked dirty brown. Still, for a second, Tate’s heart lightened when he saw recognition flash through Lucas’s eyes and a smile tease at his lips. Then, just a quickly, a mask of pure hatred fell into place, and Tate couldn’t hide the disappointment from his voice.

  “Lucas.” He nodded in greeting, but Lucas just stared back at him, the anger burning in his eyes. Tate cleared his throat. “I’m here to–”

  Lucas tried to close the door, but Tate was prepared for it and stuck his foot between the door and the frame.

  “I’m here on official business, Lucas. As the sheriff.” It wasn’t a card he wanted to play, but Lucas left him no choice.

  As Lucas pulled the door open, Tate pointed to the metal star on his chest. Lucas rolled his eyes but didn’t close the door. He turned and walked back into the house. Tate understood that this was the only invitation to come inside that he would get. He walked to the kitchen, the sounds of voices echoing inside. Even if they’d been silent, he would’ve known exactly where to go. In his youth, he’d spent more time at the Clarks’ place than his own home. Seeing the house now, knowing that both parents were now gone, he couldn’t stop the feeling of nostalgia. So much had changed in just a few short years. This home had always been a place of genuine happiness and love. Now it felt like an empty shell.

  He rounded the corner and saw Jonathan and Daniel, the two younger Clark brothers, sitting at the kitchen table. Both smiled at him as they called out his name. Lucas grabbed a can of soda, then left the room.

  Daniel shook his head at Tate. “He ain’t real sociable no more. Not since Afghanistan.”

  Tate nodded in understanding. Lucas hadn’t been sociable with him for longer than that.

  The back door was thrown open, and the three men in the kitchen turned to see Andrew standing in the doorway, a bottle of beer in his hand. He held up the beer and grinned, then chugged it until it was empty. He then held up a finger, waiting a few seconds before letting out a loud burp. The boys laughed. Tate smiled tightly.

  Andrew stepped into the kitchen. “Well, well, Tate Trudell. And did you hear boys? Old Tate here is the sheriff now.”

  Andrew kept the grin plastered on his faced, but Tate noted the coldness in his eyes. Of all four brothers, Andrew was the most dangerous one, although he usually hid it well. So how would he deal with an authority figure who knew all his secrets?

  Tate had an unsettling feeling that he was going to find out, one way or another.

  Chapter Five

  It was nearing dinner time when a sweaty and tired Susannah cut through the fields to her family’s farmstead. She had never been so happy to see the two-story farmhouse her grandparents had built or the little yellow bungalow next door that Lucas and his new bride had built more than a decade ago. Lucas had never actually lived there. He’d gone off to war in Afghanistan before it was done, and when he returned after his wife died in childbirth, he couldn’t bear to go inside it. His daughter Jenny, though, refused to move out of it, claiming it was her only connection to her mother. So Susannah and Jenny lived in the bungalow together while all the boys stayed in the farmhouse. After their parents had passed—first mom due to cancer, then dad due to heartbreak from living without his wife—Susannah and her brothers continued life on the farm as usual. Theirs was not a typical farm family arrangement, but it worked for them.

  She walked up the lane and went right by the farmhouse to the bungalow. She wanted a shower to wash the afternoon away before she faced her brothers. She could hear them shouting in the farmhouse, no doubt sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for her to make dinner for them. Did they even realize she’d been gone all day? Probably not. And they likely wouldn’t care, unless dinner was too late. She and Lucas were the only ones who could cook, and Susannah was the first to admit that Lucas’s culinary skills far outshone her own, but letting him work with razor sharp knives and scalding oil required constant supervision since he’d come home, which meant it was just easier for everyone if Susannah did all the cooking.

  She snorted as she mounted the steps to the bungalow. “Easier for everyone but me.”

  Another round of shouting erupted from the farmhouse, and Susannah paused to look back. Her brothers were unusually rowdy tonight. She hoped they weren’t being too crude, especially if Jenny was around. Her brothers all adored their niece, but they tended to forget that she was only nine years old. She was the only one Lucas spoke to anymore, so she often served as his interpreter.

  Deciding to sit and enjoy the early evening breezes, Susannah sat on the bungalow steps and considered Lucas for a moment. She adored her oldest brother, and she wasn’t the only one. He was a gentle soul who was always looking out for everyone else. He deserved all the happiness in the world, not the hand that had been dealt to him. The war and his wife’s death changed him, and he hadn’t spoken to anyone since returning home for the funeral. No one except Jenny, and half the time Susannah thought they communicated without any words at all.

  He was such a different man now than before he left. Gregarious and good-natured, he’d been quite popular in school. Girls had chased him, and boys wanted to be invited into his circle of friends. Lucas welcomed everybody, but he had only one real friend: Tate Trude
ll. The two had been inseparable for as long as Susannah could remember. She frowned. Inseparable until the terrorist attacks in New York, when suddenly they had disagreed so vehemently on how to deal with the threat of terrorism that Lucas had told Tate he was no longer welcome at their house. Susannah had been furious. She’d just hit puberty and was finally growing curves in all the right places. She knew she’d finally be able to attract the eye of her brother’s best friend. Instead, Tate had just disappeared. Not long after, Lucas joined the Army.

  “Hi, Aunt Suz. Bye, Aunt Suz.”

  Susannah looked up, startled by the gangly legs running past her down the stairs.

  “Hey, Jenny, wait a minute.”

  Jenny swung around with a deep sigh and an overly dramatic eye-rolling. Susannah hid her laugh.

  “I don’t have time, Aunt Suz.” Jenny Clark had the same coloring and build as her father and aunt, which they got from their mother: earthy red hair that preferred curls, emerald green eyes, a smattering of freckles, and a tallness that belied her age. She was only in fifth grade but already stood taller than most eighth graders. “Going to grandma and grandpa’s for the week.”

  Susannah was proud of her brother for making sure that Jenny spent time with her maternal grandparents, even if it meant making a six-hour round-trip drive every week. “Okay, I won’t keep you. Just let the boys know it’s sandwich night.”

  Sandwich night was their code for dinner on their own. They didn’t actually eat sandwiches because that would involve making food and Andrew, Daniel, and Jonathan simply wouldn’t do that. Instead they’d probably head into town to get a pizza or some other takeout, unless they could find one of the locals to take pity on them. Andrew was a master at getting people to feed him. Susannah knew if he ever used his skills for anything more than food, he’d be downright dangerous. Their daddy always said he could talk a hide off a cow if he wanted to.