“You okay?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “It’s been a long week.” She worried a hand through her hair and sighed. “It’s been difficult running the ranch from the house. I’m used to being outside overseeing things. We’re short-handed and I guess I’m feeling just a little bit overwhelmed at the moment.” She chewed her bottom lip, then continued. “I feel like everyone is just waiting for me to fail. Sheila can’t wait to sell the ranch and everyone else seems to believe I’m not up to running the place.”
Although he had no intention of ever touching her again, without his volition, his hand crept out and covered hers. She closed her eyes, as if finding his touch almost painful. When she looked at him again, there was a faint sheen of unshed tears in the depths of her eyes.
“I’m just afraid that somehow I’m going to screw up and lose everything Dad worked for. I’m afraid that while I’m hiding in my house, the ranch is going to fall to ruin.”
“We’re not going to let that happen, Katie. I won’t let that happen.” Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he was making yet a new commitment to her.
Chapter 15
Brett Cook’s drunken ravings were audible the moment Kate and Zack entered the sheriff’s office. Deputy Harry Wilson stood from the receptionist desk as they entered, obvious relief lifting the scowl from his face.
“Thank goodness Sheriff Ramsey found you. Maybe if you talk to him, you can get him to calm down and sleep it off,” he exclaimed.
“I’ll see what I can do. What happened to bring him here?”
“I was called down to Crazy Joe’s. Brett was blitzed and being obnoxious. Management complained and he got mouthy with me, so I brought him in.” He opened the door that led to the cell area. “Just knock when you’re finished.”
Kate had never been in the jail area of the offices and after taking one step through the door that led to the cells, she decided she never wanted to be here again.
There were only three cells and Brett was the only occupant in the house, but the area smelled like sour sweat, urine and booze.
She was grateful Zack was with her, especially when Brett caught sight of her and grabbed and rattled the bars of his cell like a madman. “It’s about time,” he said, the words slurring together.
Zack kept a hand firmly on her shoulder, the weight reassuring as she faced Brett. “Why did you want to see me?” she asked.
“Get me out of here. Pay my bail and get me out and I promise I’ll pay you back.” He rattled the cell bars once again. “I can’t stand being in here. Just get me out, okay?”
Zack started to speak, but Kate knew it was important she handle this herself. She stilled whatever he was about to say with a look then turned back to Brett.
“I’m sorry, Brett, I can’t help you out.”
He stared at her with bleary eyes. “Whadda mean?”
“I’m not going to bail you out. In fact, when you get out of here, I want you to pack your bags and get off my ranch.”
“What?” He stared at her as if he was certain he’d misunderstood. “Just get me out of here.”
Kate straightened her back. “No. I’m not your wife and I’m not your mama. You’ve got a problem, Brett, but I can’t fix it and I can’t make it mine. When you get out, pack your bags and go get some help.”
Brett slammed a palm against the cell door, his features radiating a malevolence that stole her breath away. She backed up a step. “You bitch! Get me out of here.” He grabbed hold of the bars and yanked at them like a madman.
Zack stepped in front of her, his features radiating a deadly calm. “That’s enough, Cook. I’ll pack your things up and have them brought here. You aren’t welcome at Bent Tree Ranch.”
“Miss High and Mighty, you’re just like your bastard father, never give a man a break.” He rattled the bars again.
Zack put his arm around Kate. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Come back here, you bitch.” Brett’s voice followed them from the cell area.
Minutes later they were back in the truck. Kate felt sick to her stomach as she thought of the venom that had spewed from Brett’s eyes. She’d seen him surly and hung-over, lazy and sullen, but never had she suspected the hatred he’d apparently harbored in his heart for her and her father.
“He’s a drunken fool,” Zack said softly.
“Yes, he is…but he’s so angry.” She thought of what Brett had yelled and the poison that had lit his eyes. “And apparently he harbors a big grudge against my father.” She looked at Zack. “Do you think it’s possible he killed Dad?”
Zack didn’t answer right away. He released a deep sigh, then replied, “Anything is possible. It makes sense that Brett might have met Gray on the trail that morning and maybe Gray fired him again. Brett lost it and killed him.”
“But that doesn’t explain why Brett would try to kill me,” she said, playing devil’s advocate. “He and I hadn’t fought. I hadn’t fired him until tonight.”
“But his rage might have been so big, killing your dad wasn’t enough.”
“If that’s all true, will we ever be able to prove any of it?” she asked, even though she knew the probable answer.
Again he sighed and she noted that he looked tired. The lines around his eyes appeared deeper than usual. She realized that while she slept peacefully in her bed each night feeling safe and secure because of his very presence in the house, he probably tossed and turned and enjoyed little sleep while on duty twenty-four hours a day.
“All I know is that when we get to the ranch I’m going to pack up Brett’s things and take them back to the jail. We’ll tell all the men he isn’t welcome on the property and if he’s spotted hanging around they are to call the sheriff and have him arrested for trespassing.”
The fact that he hadn’t directly answered her question about proving Brett’s guilt indicated to her that he didn’t believe it would be done.
If he was the guilty party, then at least now she knew from what direction danger might come. But there was still the disturbing possibility that he was guilty only of being a mean, hateful drunk.
It was just after ten when they arrived at the ranch. “Lock yourself in and it will take me about an hour to get Brett’s things delivered to the jail,” Zack said as he parked his truck.
“I’ll come with you to get his things and deliver them.” She still felt vulnerable. It wasn’t so much her physical well-being that worried her, but rather the fact that she didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want to have time to think.
Old feelings of inadequacy had plagued her throughout the evening. She had come away from the town meeting with the impression that all the other ranchers in the area expected her to fail, anticipated that she didn’t have what it took to keep the place going.
If she’d been a son, nobody would have doubted that Gray’s heir would keep the place running smoothly. She got out of the truck with Zack, refusing to dwell on these painfully familiar thoughts.
“It’s still early enough, most of the men will be in town,” Zack said as they walked toward the bunkhouse. “I imagine the only person we’ll find is George.”
Sure enough when they entered the bunkhouse the only person inside was George who was snoring in a chair in front of the television.
He snorted and sat up as they entered, blinking his eyes in an effort to claim full consciousness. As he saw Kate, he quickly jumped out of his chair. “Is there a problem, Ms. Sampson?”
“You’re fine, George. Just sit and relax,” she replied.
“Brett is in jail on drunk and disorderly charges,” Zack explained. “Kate has fired him and we’re going to pack up his things and take them to the jail. He’s not welcome here anymore.”
George sat and shook his head. “Just a matter of time. That man was born mean and drunk.”
“Even though we’re short-handed, it was past time I fired him,” Kate said.
“We’ll manage,�
� George said. “If some of us got to put in a few extra hours then we will.”
Kate smiled at the older man gratefully. She didn’t know all the details of his problems in the past, but over the years he’d proven himself to be a law-abiding hard worker.
She watched as Zack went to one of the cabinets and grabbed a large black plastic garbage bag. He moved to Brett’s footlocker and opened the lid.
The first items he pulled out were wrinkled clothing and a handful of balled socks. A pitiful collection of toiletries followed. Two bottles of gin appeared in Zack’s hands. “I’m tempted to throw these away, but knowing Brett, he’d raise a stink about destruction of his property.”
She knew he was right so said nothing as he added the bottles to the garbage bag. He picked up another armful of clothing, then stood in surprise, his gaze focused intently on the remaining contents of the foot locker.
“What?” she asked. She stepped closer so she could see into the foot locker. Her heart jumped at the sight of the last two items that remained…her father’s gun and a bull horn.
George joined them and looked into the locker. “I’ll be a son of a gun,” he exclaimed. “I would have never guessed Brett could pull it together enough to be responsible for everything.”
“We need to call Sheriff Ramsey,” Zack said. “It looks like we’ve found our evidence.”
The rest of the night went by in a blur for Kate.
Sheriff Ramsey collected Brett’s personal items, including the gun and bull horn, then went back to the jail to question Brett. She and Zack returned to the jail with him and watched the interview.
Brett drunkenly denied knowing anything about the gun or the bull horn and declared his innocence in Gray’s death and any of the attacks on Katie.
His denials fell on Kate’s deaf ears. The way she figured it was that her father had fired Brett once again and this time Brett’s pleas for another chance had fallen on deaf ears. Brett’s rage had not only been directed at Gray, but also the daughter Gray had loved.
The moment she had seen that bull horn she’d felt vindicated. She hadn’t been a hysterical female imagining things in a thunderstorm. That bull horn had been blown to stampede her cattle, for the sole purpose of her death.
It was almost midnight when they got back into Zack’s truck to return to the ranch. She should be feeling ecstatic. The bad guy was behind bars and Sheriff Ramsey assured them Brett would be facing additional serious charges in the morning.
But as they pulled up in front of the house, although she felt relief, she didn’t feel joy. It was done. Over. Her father’s murderer had been caught and the danger to her was over, as well.
Her life was once again her own. She no longer had to be a prisoner in her house. She no longer needed Zack’s services.
But I need him. The thought filled her with a new despair. She didn’t want him to go. She didn’t want this to be the end of their relationship.
He parked the truck in front of the house and turned to her. “Well, it’s done.” His features were shrouded in the night’s darkness.
“So it seems,” she said, grateful that her voice betrayed none of the tumultuous emotions racing through her.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll just bunk on your sofa for the rest of the night then pack up and get out of here in the morning.”
“That’s fine,” she agreed, and opened the truck door. She just wanted to get inside and get to the privacy of her bedroom.
“Katie.” She turned back to him, his features now lit by the interior truck light. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“I’m not. I’m just exhausted,” she replied, and got out of the truck.
She went directly inside and to her bedroom. She didn’t want to talk about the evening, didn’t want to spend another moment with Zack, who would be gone in the morning, who probably couldn’t wait to get back to his own life.
Once she was in her room she quickly undressed and pulled on her nightshirt. She turned off the light and walked over to the window where silvery light spilled down from a full moon.
As she stood there in the darkness, in the silence of her room, she could hear Zack preparing the sofa for the night. She closed her eyes, surprised to find the sting of tears pressing hot and painful.
She’d once worried that Zack was trying to steal her father’s heart away and while she wasn’t looking it had been her heart he’d stolen.
He awakened before dawn, a sound in the house rousing him from sleep. Zack sat up and frowned, seeing a light shining from Gray’s bedroom. He pulled on his jeans and checked his watch—4:00 a.m. What was Katie doing up at this hour?
He padded down the hall and stopped in the doorway to Gray’s bedroom. Katie was there folding clothes from Gray’s closet and placing them in a cardboard box. She was clad only in an over-size T-shirt, her hair in disarray, as if she’d spent the few hours in bed tossing and turning.
“Katie, what are you doing?”
“I need to pack up these things.” She didn’t look at him.
“At four in the morning?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” She turned and pulled a sweater from the closet. “Most of these clothes are in excellent shape, I’m sure one of the churches in town can make good use of them.”
He moved to the foot of the bed and sat and watched her silently, wondering what was going on in her head. She moved with a manic energy and tension rolled off her in waves.
He wanted to take her in his arms, to calm her with backrubs and soft kisses, but he recognized the foolishness of such a thing. He knew his weakness. If he touched her in any way, he’d want her again. If he kissed her, he knew they’d end up in bed, and that’s the last thing he needed at the moment.
He intended to walk away clean in the morning, no regrets, no baggage. He needed to get away from her because she scared him just a little bit. He had to admit, he’d gotten too close. It was time to walk away and not look back.
Hell, he didn’t even know what he was going to do with his life. He didn’t want to go back to the family business, but he didn’t know anything else.
“Go back to sleep, Zack,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. Her voice was cool and brittle, so unlike what he’d come to expect from her.
“I’m awake now. I’ll keep you company.”
For the first time since he’d entered the room she looked at him and in her eyes he saw raw grief and something else…the glitter of what appeared to be anger. “I don’t want your company.”
He stared at her for a long moment, noting the stress lines around her mouth, the circles beneath her eyes. But it was more than fatigue, he thought. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He rose from the bed, forgetting his own determination not to touch her. He walked over to where she stood, the sweater still clutched in her hands, her gaze on the floor in front of her.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he willed her to look at him. “Katie,” he said softly. “Talk to me. Something is wrong. Tell me what’s going on.”
She jerked away from him, her eyes flashing angrily. “It’s Kate, Zack. My name is Kate. I’ve told you that before.”
He dropped his arms to his sides. “Okay,” he replied slowly.
“And I’ll tell you what’s wrong.” She folded the sweater and dropped it in the box. When she looked at him again her eyes were haunted. “My father is dead. I’m never going to have any more time with him and I wish I had all the hours back with him that you stole.”
He frowned in surprise. “What?” Of all the things he’d expected her to say, this wasn’t one of them. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about all those hours you spent here with my father, all that time that I could have spent with him.” She whirled around and grabbed another sweater off a hanger, her body vibrating with the intensity of her emotions.
“Katie—Kate, that was years ago. We were both just kids,” he said. “I was a mixed-up teenager and your dad helped me through some
rough times.”
“He should have been helping me. He should have spent that time sitting with me on the porch, talking to me. Now he can’t and I wish I had those nights back. I wish you would have never come around.”
For the first time since he’d entered the room, a stir of anger filled his gut. “Kate, I know you’re grieving, but there’s no reason to take it out on me.” He had the distinct impression she was looking to pick a fight, but he didn’t know why and he hadn’t realized she still harbored a spoiled child’s resentment toward him.
Her eyes narrowed and she threw the sweater into the box. “You had a huge family of your own, your father and Smokey and four brothers and a sister, but that wasn’t enough for you. You had to come around here and try to destroy my relationship with my dad.”
“If you had a bad relationship with your dad, it had nothing to do with me,” he exclaimed, his anger reaching the boiling point. “You were spoiled and willful and difficult. I’d thought you’d grown up, but obviously I was wrong.”
She sucked in a deep breath, her bottom lip trembling. “Get out, Zack. Go home. You did what I asked you to do and for that I’m grateful, but there’s no more danger now and I don’t want you here.”
“Fine.” He turned to leave the room, but paused and turned back to look at her. “I’m not making any excuses or apologies for spending time with Gray. At the time I was coming here, I felt invisible at home. I was miserable and on a path to destruction. Your father’s friendship saved me. How dare you begrudge me that time, and more importantly, how dare you begrudge your father my companionship.”
He knew he should just leave, but he couldn’t, not yet, not until he said everything that burned inside him. “Your dad spent his life worrying about you, making sacrifices for you and loving you. He spent his time reading fashion magazines so he’d know what was important to a girl. He baked cookies and cupcakes for every party you ever had in school. He loved you, Kate. And nobody and nothing could steal that away from you. But you’re so selfish you begrudge him my friendship. You begrudge me his. If you have regrets where your dad is concerned, then you might look inside yourself instead of blaming me.”
Defending the Rancher's Daughter Page 17
