by Becky McGraw
Heather’s eyes met his, and she fell into the warm, blue pools, swam around there, drew on his strength and determination, then took a deep breath. Letting it out, she looked back down at the paper and began to write. Each word felt purged from her soul, as she fought through her fear, swallowed her disgust, and finally brought to light what had happened to her. What Jack Thomas had done to her. When she reached the last line on the page, she asked Harry for another. The words went on and on, and with each word she got stronger, her soul a little lighter. The final word came, and she stared at the signature line for a minute, before she angrily and confidently scrawled Haley Morgan there.
Zack was right, she’d finally reclaimed what that bastard had stolen from her, she thought, as she slid the paper back over to Harry Munson. “I hope the trial comes quickly,” she said, and Munson laughed.
“We’re going to call a Grand Jury next week, and I think it will be a slam dunk to get the indictment. Internal Affairs has put him on administrative leave for now, but he’ll be fired once we get an indictment. I doubt he’ll be stupid enough to go to trial with what we have.”
“What about the charges against me?” Heather asked, weak with relief.
“I imagine after the prosecutor and judge see the facts here, those will be dropped. I’ll try and get that done as soon as possible,” Munson replied, with a kind smile.
Heather looked at Zack, and he looked at Munson. “Do we need to stick around?”
“Yeah, we’ll need her for the Grand Jury testimony, but after the indictment is handed down, which should be fast, if he takes a plea deal, you can head on out. If he doesn’t plea, you can still leave, but you’ll have to come back for the trial. Getting a trial date could take a while.”
“Maybe next weekend?” Heather asked hopefully, and Munson shrugged.
Heather couldn’t think of anything more she wanted than to be back at Zack’s ranch, the only place she’d ever found peace. The place she wanted to stay, put down roots. Or at least see if there was a possible future for them. He said he loved her, proved it, and she loved him with all her heart. But that didn’t mean they could work things out.
They were still as different as night and day. Her problems had brought them together, and they would mostly be resolved when they went back. They could decide they had nothing in common then. She could get tired of the country life. He might decide he didn’t want her there anymore. And she was worrying about things that hadn’t happened yet.
One day and problem at a time, Heather.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Heather blew out a breath, pulled her hand out of the bread dough and swiped her forearm across her forehead. The power-baking she’d been doing all morning, to distract herself from the fact that today marked two weeks since they left Tulsa, had about worn her out. A glance at the kitchen clock told her she’d been kneading the bread dough entirely too long. It would probably be tough as a boot now, but at least she’d worked out a measure of her anxiety and frustration. They should have heard something by now.
As Munson expected, the indictment was handed down, and was sent to the prosecutor for a trial date. Before they left, Jack’s attorney had started negotiating with the prosecutor, but so far they hadn’t been notified a plea deal had been struck. She never wanted to go back to that godforsaken place, or see that devil spawn again. Please let him confess.
Heather stuck her hand back into the dough and squeezed, then punched her fist into the ball. She jumped when arms snaked around her waist and tightened, right before Zack dropped a wet kiss on her neck, then took a long deep sniff by her ear. “You smell like vanilla today,” he announced.
“Doh—I’ve been baking,” she said with a shiver, tilting her neck when he kissed her again, closer to her ear this time. When his hands crept under her the hem of her t-shirt and wandered upward, she elbowed him, nudging him back with her shoulder. “I thought you were supposed to be supervising those contractors on the fence?”
Zack backed up a step, but she still felt his hot breath on her shoulder. “They’re on their lunch break, so I took a break too. They went to town, so they’ll be gone at least an hour.”
Heather knew what that meant now. Zack wanted her to drop what she was doing, so he could drag her into the bedroom. God, she loved it when he did that. But not today. She had to finish this bread, and she had corn muffins in the oven.
“You’re not getting a nooner today, cowboy. I have to finish this bread, and I’ve got muffins in the oven,” she informed with a chuckle. He’d eaten most of the ones left from yesterday morning at supper last night, then finished the last one with coffee for breakfast this morning.
Zack’s arms appeared at her waist again, and he hugged her from behind, rested his chin on her shoulder. “There’s only one muffin I want, sweet thing,” he murmured, his deep, rumbly voice skittering along her nerves exciting each one. Goosebumps raised on her arms when he nipped her earlobe, sucked it. A shiver shook her, she pulled her hands out of the dough and turned. “You’re not going to let me finish this are you?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” he drawled with a sexy grin.
“Fine…” Heather huffed a breath, and turned to wash her hands at the sink. “You’re not going to have cornbread for supper.”
“Sounds like a fair trade to me,” Zack replied, hesitated a moment and Heather could feel his eyes on her ass. “Did I tell you how fine your ass looks in those shorts, angel?”
“You had me at muffin, cowboy,” she replied, wiping her hands on the dishtowel. She tossed it on the counter, stepped closer to him and put her hand on his chest. “Save your flattery and kiss me.”
Zack’s eyebrow lifted, as he tipped his hat back. Both of his hands landed on her ass to jerk her against his rock hard erection. His fingers branded the bottom of her cheeks, as his mouth slammed over hers, and he swallowed her sigh. Heather circled his neck with her arms, tiptoed to stretch herself, rub herself against his body and Zack’s moan filled her mouth. He shoved his fingers into her hair, held her head while he ground his mouth against hers, feasted on it, drove her out of her mind with his need.
Her toes curled and she moaned, as his hips worked with hers. Heather would never get enough of this cowboy’s kisses, his brand of loving. Like everything else he did, Zack Taylor put everything he had behind it. It was so much sometimes, so intense, she craved it so badly now, the thought it might go away one day scared her. If the day came, the day he didn’t want her in his life anymore, she’d be broken, devastated. She wasn’t sure she’d survive losing him.
That’s how much she’d come to love him, want him, need him in her life. Zack kissed her silly, then sat her on her heels and dropped one last kiss on her swollen mouth. “I love you, Heather. Get that damned look off of your face.”
“What look?” she asked dazed.
“Like you’re scared of something. Everything is good now, accept it. I have news for you, but I want you to see something first.” He stepped back, his hands fell to his sides. “I’m going to take a quick shower, you pack us a lunch, we’re going on a picnic,” he announced with the excitement in his voice shining in his eyes.
Her body deflated and she frowned. “But I thought you wanted—” to have sex.
“Oh, I do and we will, but I want to talk first, so don’t dawdle.” He shooed her with his hands, then turned toward the living room with a laugh.
Maybe one day she’d understand how this man’s mind worked. Heather turned off the oven as she walked to the refrigerator to pull out the ham she’d cooked earlier in the week. Picking a butcher knife from the block, she sliced off thick chunks, and had only gotten as far as slicing tomatoes for the sandwiches when Zack walked back in the kitchen looking sexier than any man had a right to look. Drops of water slid down his neck to be absorbed into his clean, black t-shirt, and she wanted to lick them.
“Your hair is dripping on the floor,” she said instead, as she slapped a slice of tomato on each sand
wich.
“I’ll mop it up when we get back. I’m in a hurry, and you’re entirely too slow. Let me help you.” He grabbed the bag she’d set on the counter and shoved some grapes and a couple of bananas inside then slapped the sandwiches together and added them on top, without wrapping them. In quick strides he walked to the refrigerator, opened it and pulled out two cans of soda which he also just shoved into the bag.
She folded her arms over her chest and watched while he tied up the bag. “Those Cokes are going to make the sandwiches soggy.”
“I don’t give a damn, sweet thing,” he replied, looking up at her with a heated smile. “I have things to say to you.” Zack transferred the blanket and bag to his left hand then offered her his right arm. “Your carriage awaits, beautiful.”
Heather hooked her arm though his and Zack led her to the back door, but with every step they got closer to the golf cart, her anxiety built. She stopped, pulling him up short. “Zack just tell me the news, don’t be so dramatic. You know I’m already a wreck about it. Did Jack confess?” she asked, and his body tensed. “I can take it, just tell me.”
His smile faded, as he looked down at her, his blue eyes simmering. “You’re not going to spoil my surprise, we’re still going out to the pond. But yes, he confessed, and he has a date for sentencing. According to Munson, he’s getting pretty near the maximum sentence, twenty years on each count, plus an extra five for his trip to the hotel to terrorize you. The only thing up in the air is when he’ll be eligible for parole, and whether the judge thinks the sentence is stiff enough. If he doesn’t he can throw out the plea deal.”
“What happens if the judge throws out the deal?” Heather asked, her voice as shaky as her insides. She did not want to hear the answer, but she already knew.
“We go back to Tulsa and go to court.”
Blood rushed to her head and Heather groaned, as her knees went weak. Zack caught her, set the bag down on the cart seat then tipped up her chin. “Munson and Randall both say that’s not going to happen. That’s why the prosecutor didn’t budge much on the maximum sentence in the plea deal. The judge will take the deal and that man will be out of your life forever—out of our lives.” Zack dropped a kiss on her lips, then smiled down at her. “Now get your pretty ass in that cart so we can go celebrate.”
Heather nodded, pulled herself together then shoved the bag of food over to the far side before she climbed into the cart. “I thought you’d have taken us out one of your new horses,” she said, as he shifted the cart into gear with a jerk.
“I don’t trust them yet, especially riding double.” He looked over at her and smiled. “Particularly with you riding with me—this is safer.”
“I’m not made of glass, and I have ridden a horse before,” Heather replied with a snort. That’s how Zack treated her most of the time. Like she was fragile and would break. He was overprotective most of the time, and always watching her. She now appreciated how Tywla felt and her frustration with him. Heather wasn’t particularly keen on riding a horse again, she’d be perfectly fine if she never rode one again, but Zack’s condescending attitude galled her.
“You rode a horse that was trained to follow his buddies around the arena. This ranch isn’t an arena, and those horses aren’t tail followers. They’re cutting horses,” Zack explained gruffly.
“You saying I don’t know how to ride?” Heather asked indignantly.
No, she wasn’t a bareback bronc rider, hadn’t ridden since birth like he had, but she could hold her own on a horse, even though she didn’t like to ride. She had held her own for the few months she’d ridden with the color guard, hadn’t embarrassed herself or them. And she looked damned good while she was doing it.
“I didn’t say that at all. What I said was those horses are untested, and I’m not risking your pretty neck on one of them until I trust them.”
“So you’ll let me ride once you trust them?” she pressed, having no idea why she was.
“We’ll see,” he replied with a huffed breath. “I’ll look for a horse more your speed.”
“More my speed?” she screeched, turning in the seat to look at him.
Zack stopped the cart, looked at her and his clear blue eyes begged her to drop it. “Why can’t anything be easy with you, sweet thing?”
“If you want easy, find another woman,” Heather replied shortly, dragging her eyes out to the tree line in the distance. Heather wasn’t and never would be easy. She wasn’t a go-with-the-flow kind of woman. She also didn’t put up with men talking down to her, and that’s what this one was doing right now.
“I don’t want easy, but I don’t want to argue either, angel. This is stupid. Today is too pretty a day, and I’m spending the afternoon with my girl. Let’s just have fun…please?”
Heather’s anger deflated on a sigh, and her heart melted. His girl? “I’m sorry, Zack. I’m just a nervous wreck these days.”
“I love you, Heather. You need to accept that this crap is behind us now—stop worrying about it. Enjoy the sunshine for a change, and accept that you’ll never have to live in the shadows again.”
Zack was right, and it was going to take a lot of getting used to. Being free to be who she was, whoever she wanted to be, was not something she’d ever had before. She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’ll try to let it go, I promise.”
“Good girl,” Zack growled, as he put his foot on the accelerator. “Hold on tight, it’s about to get bumpy. We rode the horses through here a few days ago when it was muddy so they tore it up.”
Heather grabbed the support next to her, and the back of the seat. Before they’d gone twenty feet, she was gritting her teeth. The bag of lunch beside her bounced off the seat onto the floorboard. She grabbed for it but it flew out of the cart.
“Zack stop!” she yelled and he jerked his foot off the gas. Her body lurched, but she caught herself with the support bar, and only swung half out of the cart.
“You pole dancing now, angel?” he asked with a laugh.
Not funny at all. “Our lunch flew out, asshole,” she grated, easing back on the seat to swing her legs out of the cart.
“I was just kidding. It was a joke—lighten up!” Zack growled, his frustration a tangible thing, as she stomped the ten feet behind the cart to gather up the fruit and soft drinks. She left the sandwiches that were laying in the dried mud. Their sexy picnic wasn’t turning out to be so sexy at all, she thought, as she strode back to the cart.
Zack was being an asshole, and their lunch was ruined. “Let’s just go back to the house,” she grumbled, as she sat on the seat and tossed the bag between them on the floorboard.
Without a word, ignoring her, Zack drove onward for another fifteen minutes, and Heather hung on to keep from being ejected from the cart. Finally, he stopped near a canopy of trees at the back of the property, grabbed the bag and blanket, then walked toward the trees, leaving her to follow. By the time Heather picked her way over the uneven ground, he had the blanket spread on the bank of a large half-lily-covered pond.
The sight improved her mood, and she blew out a breath to get rid of the last shreds of her irritation. He was right, it was a beautiful place, gorgeous day and too nice to argue. Over nothing. “Pretty place,” she commented, sitting on the corner of the blanket to stare at his stiff back as he pulled off his boots on the other side.
“One of my favorite,” Zack replied gruffly. “I spent many a summer day swimming in that pond. Many a summer night on these banks.”
“With other girls?” The words popped out of her mouth, before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them, because they not only made her stomach roll, they earned her a hot glare over his shoulder.
“What’s with you, Heather? I brought us out here for a nice picnic and your mood leaves a lot to be desired. Did I do something to piss you off?” he asked, tossing his boots to the side.
“Maybe I’m just naturally bitchy. Maybe you should just send me off to do my own thing n
ow that my problems are solved. That would save you a lot of trouble, trust me. Like I said, I’m not an easy person to live with.” Maybe she just needed to know when she wasn’t easy to live with he wouldn’t bail on her. Or maybe she was just afraid to be happy. That was the more likely reason she kept pushing him to push her away.
“Is that what you want?” Zack asked, his voice low and lethal as he turned to pin her with his eyes. “You tired of me already? Missing the fast life back at the Crazy Cowgirl?”
No, that’s not what she wanted at all. But she had to know where Zack stood. “I like it here,” she replied evenly, then shrugged. “But I liked it there too.”
“Then why the hell can’t you just relax? Enjoy the company and the pretty pond?”
Why the hell couldn’t she? “I don’t know,” she admitted softly, then dragged her eyes to his. “Maybe I’m just scared to let myself get happy, comfortable, or let down my guard. I know that other shoe is still in the closet and could drop on my head any minute. If I keep my eye out for that shoe, that way I don’t have to worry about it surprising me.”
Zack pointed to a tall, leggy flower on the bank of the pond. All alone, by itself, totally out of place in its environment. “See that Spider Lilly?” he asked, and she nodded. “That’s what I wanted to show you. I saw it the other day, and it reminded me of you. It grows wherever nature plants it, takes root and thrives. You’ve done the same all your life. No matter whether the sun was shining on you, or you were up to your neck in floodwater, you made the best of your circumstances. I want you to do that here too,” Zack said, and the look in his eyes made her heart smile. Respect. Admiration. Envy even.
But she hadn’t done anything someone else in similar circumstances would have done. It was called the will to survive. “I just kept my head above water and kept swimming. It was that or let myself drown. That would probably have been easier sometimes,” she replied with a shrug.
