Bad Boy Heroes Boxed Set

by Patricia Ryan

  Next to Zeke, Brian was silent, watching Mattie approach. Red lights flashed and men were pouring from the two vehicles in the clearing, but Mattie ignored all of it. She walked with determination toward Zeke and Brian and stopped in front of them. From her purse, she pulled the three-foot braid she’d cut from her head and dropped it at Brian’s feet.

  Zeke stared at her, her breath coming hard, her thick straight hair scattered over her forehead, her eyes blazing. A high patch of color burned on each cheekbone. Her T-shirt had been torn a little at the neckline and gaped over her slim, beautiful shoulders.

  Zeke wondered how the hell he’d ever thought her mild. And how the hell he was going to let her go.

  Chapter 16

  *

  BRIAN AND VINCE were taken in one vehicle as the sheriff took Zeke and Mattie’s statements.

  Now everything had been done. Mattie stood outside the cabin with Zeke, her purse on her shoulder, the tote bag at her feet. The sheriff shook Zeke’s hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Zeke nodded.

  The sheriff looked at Mattie. “Am you ready?”

  She took a breath and nodded.

  “Give us a minute, will you?” Zeke asked.

  The man winked and nodded. “I’ll wait in the Jeep.”

  A thin gray line of clouds showed to the west and Mattie eyed them for something to focus on so she would not break down and cry or something else equally stupid. “Looks like rain,” she said, shifting her purse close.

  “Yep.” He touched her arm with one finger.

  Mattie fidgeted with her strap, and finally looked at him. “Guess this is it.”

  His throat moved. “Guess it is.” He took her hand. “Let me know how you are every now and then, okay? Call Roxanne at the café in Kismet, leave a message.”

  “Sure.” She pressed her lips together, looked up at him. “Thank you for everything.”

  He nodded. “Remember, you’re welcome anytime. Standing invitation.”

  She smiled. “Get your horse, Zeke. He loves you.” Something in his expression made her suspicious.

  “You are going to take the money, aren’t you?”

  He took a breath. “No. It’s going to go into an account in your name in Kansas City. The sheriff will give you the number.”

  “Are you ever going to ask for anything for yourself, Zeke?”

  He gestured toward the land. “I have what I need in this land, Miss Mary.” He glanced at the Jeep and back to her. “You take care,” he said, and stepped back.

  Mattie inclined her head, for one long moment thinking of everything that had happened between them—from that first moment in the café to this moment—and she smiled again. “You’re a good man, Zeke Shephard.” Unafraid, she stepped forward and put her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to kiss his hard, sculpted cheek. “Be good.”

  His embrace was, for a fleeting instant, as fierce and sharp as a vise. “Take care, Miss Mary.” He kissed her head. “Take care.”

  Then abruptly, Mattie was standing alone. He really was going to let her go. Carefully swallowing her emotions, she bent and grabbed her tote bag, and walked to the Jeep without a backward glance.

  *

  THE NEXT FEW weeks passed in a blur for Mattie. The Colorado State Patrol escorted her to Denver, where a Kansas City police officer waited to take her into the city. They took her statement and stowed her in a safe house. She didn’t even have to insist that Brian was dangerous, that he had connections and wouldn’t rest until Mattie was dead. The small victory at Zeke’s cabin had only been a minor skirmish in the battle—satisfactory but hardly conclusive. The police weren’t going to take any chances that their sole witness might meet an accident.

  She had a friend check her apartment. Mattie’s collection of library books had been boxed carefully by the manager, who’d known how Mattie valued the books, and put in storage. Her job, of course, had been filled.

  The days dragged. Mattie hated being back in the city. Everything she’d learned to love about the outdoors seemed perverted here. She had grown used to silence, and the constant flow of noise in the city made her irritable. Car horns and telephones and people talking; televisions, radios, refrigerators humming. Everywhere she went, there was noise.

  Her nose had grown sensitive to the subtle scents of pine and water and a man’s skin. Exhaust fumes and stale smoke and blacktop permeated the air here.

  The worst, though, was the heat and humidity. In the mountains, she’d grown used to the light, sweet air. Here the air seemed to strangle her and the heat weighed on her body like an iron. The bad-temperedness was partly by choice, of course. Mattie knew that. She didn’t want to be here. Kansas City had been her home all of her life, but she’d only found herself when she left it. Now she felt a prisoner to a life that wasn’t her own any more.

  She tried not to think about Zeke. Long ago she’d learned to be pragmatic about life: she accepted what she couldn’t change. Zeke fell into that category, but she caught herself more than once sitting by a window, willing him to come striding up the walk.

  She missed him painfully. It seemed impossible that she could have formed a deeper connection with a man she’d known three weeks than with people she’d known most of her adult life. But she had.

  There was nothing she could do about that, either.

  *

  BECAUSE BRIAN WAS a cop-killer, because the Kansas City police had been looking for a break in their attempt to put him away for several years, there wasn’t a long wait for the trial. On a late summer morning, hot and humid, Mattie dressed carefully, brushed her newly trimmed hair, and promptly threw up her breakfast.

  Standing in the air-conditioned bathroom, painted pale blue, Mattie stared at herself in the mirror. Was she still so afraid? How could he possibly hurt her?

  The person who stared back was hardly the same meek, mild woman who’d never stood up for herself, who settled for the ugly coat and let promotions pass her by. This woman was strong and her face showed it. There was a tilt to her chin. Her eyes were clear and direct. A healthy glow lit her cheeks.

  No she wasn’t afraid. A strong man, a good man, had loved her and brought her to life. Nothing could change that. Nothing could ever take it away.

  *

  ZEKE SAT ON his back porch and played tug-of-war with a sloppy, shaggy ball of loose black fur and tiny sharp teeth. “You call yourself a dog?” he said, shaking the rag the puppy clutched between his teeth. “Come on, let me see some real teeth.”

  The Labrador growled happily, then let loose of the rag and dived for Zeke’s hand, sloppily licking it and rolling over to have his tummy rubbed. Zeke chuckled and scooped him up, cuddling him in the crook of an arm to rub his head and body. “Can’t be doing this forever, Tommy boy ,” he said with affection. “You’ll be too big and then you’ll want to be a lapdog.”

  The puppy heaved a sigh of contentment.

  Zeke sighed, too. He hadn’t owned a dog since childhood, but the days and night just after Mattie left had been almost unbearably lonely. One morning, he’d gone to town with nothing in mind but finding a puppy to keep him company. Surprised even Zeke how much it helped. Tommy followed him around everywhere he went, provided someone to talk to during meals, even slept in his bed at night, a warm, breathing comfort in the dark and lonely nights.

  For most of the summer, he’d felt suspended, as if he were waiting for something he couldn’t quite name. He’d managed to save a little cash, but sooner or later he’d have to find something to do to tide him over, or get moving somewhere for the winter.

  He called Kismet twice to see if Mattie had left him any messages. The first time, she’d called to let him know she was safe, and that the trial was set. The second time, there was no message, and Roxanne chided him gently. “You want to leave one for her?”

  Zeke said, “Just tell her the invitation stands.”

  “You are the stubbornest man,” Roxanne replied. “Even over five hundred
miles, I can tell you’re as lovesick as you can be. Why don’t you just admit it?”

  “You’re imagining things as usual, Roxie,” he said and hung up.

  But as he sat in the smoky dusk of a summer evening, with a puppy curled in his arms, Zeke had to admit he missed Mattie with something close to desperation.

  She was the only woman he’d ever been himself with completely; somehow, she’d made him free to be. She’d freed him from his prison of self-pity and despair, too, with a simple, wide-open enjoyment of life. Mattie made him remember he was somebody, that he had things to give.

  An engine on the road made him jump to his feet, his heart leaping with hope. Maybe she’d taken him up on his invitation, after all. Maybe she’d come back for a short visit and—

  The truck belonged to George Romero. He was pulling a horse trailer, and the bed of the pickup was filled with hay. “Hey, neighbor,” Zeke called, trying to quell his disappointment. “What brings you my way?”

  George leaped nimbly from the cab, grinning. “What you got there? One of Lowry’s pups, eh? I got one, too.” He tickled the puppy under the chin and let himself be licked. “Damn good dogs, but you don’t have any sheep.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “Wool’s on the upswing these days. I may think about it.”

  Zeke nodded. “You didn’t come all the way up here to talk about wool and dogs.”

  “Nope.” He walked to the foot of the horse trailer and led out Othello. “I brought you back your damned, mean horse.”

  Zeke frowned. “I don’t get it.”

  “That woman of yours paid for him by certified check, yesterday.”

  “Mattie?” A swell of hope burst into his chest. “Is she here?”

  George shook his head, giving Zeke the lead rope. Othello lifted his head and snuffled happily at Zeke and the puppy. “Nah, she mailed it from Kansas City.”

  “Hey, buddy,” Zeke said quietly. He didn’t look at George for fear his disappointment would be too obvious.

  “She told me to tell you that this was not for you, it was for your horse.” He chuckled. “She has some pride, that one.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How long you gonna wait?”

  Zeke looked up. “For what?”

  “To go after her. I’ll come feed this monster. We’ve kinda gotten used to each other.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not going after her. She knows where I am if she wants to live this kind of life.”

  George snorted. “You’re a real easy man to approach, too, aren’t you, Zeke?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve got ‘no trespassing” written on every bone of your body. If you want that woman, you’ll have to go get her.”

  “She knows where I am,” he repeated stubbornly. But for one minute, he wished he were another sort of man, one that could give Mattie that home and family she wanted so much. But she knew his terms—no commitments and no children. And he didn’t think she’d go for it.

  *

  IT WASN’T UNTIL the trial was over that she admitted to herself that she’d really expected Zeke to show up. It had taken two weeks, but the jury deliberated exactly one hour before returning with a guilty verdict. Brian Murphy would be in prison a long, long time.

  As she walked into her small apartment bedroom, finally free, Mattie at last admitted Zeke wasn’t going to come after her.

  It was painful to admit she’d been hoping just that all these weeks. His expression that last day, that loneliness and need she’d seen at the pool, had given her hope.

  She brushed sticky hair back from her sticky forehead. He’d told her it would be this way. She just hadn’t accepted it.

  With a sigh, she began to collect her things. At least she’d been able to arrange to have Othello returned to him, so he wouldn’t be so utterly alone. Maybe that was all she could do for him.

  It was time to face facts and make choices.

  One thing was clear: she would not stay in Kansas City. Thanks to Zeke’s unselfishness, she had a fat, healthy bank account, money that gave her more freedom than she’d ever dreamed could exist. Not only could she leave Kansas City forever, she was free to choose any place in the world she wanted to live, and go there.

  Colorado or Arizona?

  Packing her thin, worn tank top and shorts, she grinned wryly. They really were ugly. Maybe something else she should do was buy some new clothes. Her bra pinched her when she bent, and she shifted it back into place, wincing a little at the tenderness of her breasts. None of her bras fit right at the moment and—

  Her heart started pounding. Holding a pair of jeans in her hands, she sank down on the bed, trying to remember how long it had been since she’d dropped that blasted box of tampons in front of Zeke at her cabin in Kismet.

  Almost three months.

  Breathlessly, she tried to calm her racing thoughts, so she could think clearly. She’d often been irregular in her cycle when she was younger, and had attributed this irregularity to stress and change in her life. But three months was a long time. And sore breasts. And the nausea before the trial. And her sleepiness.

  Sitting there with her clothes scattered all around her, her life in total upheaval, Mattie bent her head and touched her belly. A baby.

  A baby.

  Forever and ever she’d wanted her own family, people to love and care for. She’d imagined a whole family unit, mother and father and child, with animals and messes and chaos.

  A baby.

  She remembered each time she’d made love to Zeke and wondered which one had resulted in this child. The wild moment in the shower? The tender times through the night?

  Joy welled up inside her, cutting through surprise and dismay with a blazing, cleansing light. A baby. It didn’t matter that the details were not exactly what she’d hoped or that the union that produced the child had not been blessed by the Holy Church.

  She was going to have a child, Zeke’s child.

  That changed everything.

  *

  SNOW CAME EARLY to the southern Rockies, and this year was no exception. The first snow began to fall just past the middle of September. Zeke was prepared with hay for the horses, plenty of food for himself, the truck serviced and gassed up. Stacks of wood were piled by the cabin and the sauna.

  In the snowy dusk, he went out to feed the horses. Othello whinnied in greeting, head tossing in cheerful acknowledgement of the flakes drifting down in sparkling wonder. Nearby, calmly watching the landscape, was a new Appaloosa mare. Zeke had sold his motorcycle and used part of the money to put a down payment on a loan to buy her.

  The rest of the loan he’d used for a very practical purpose—he hired an electrician to wire the cabin, and he’d added a room at the back of the house, with views of the mountains. It was a little strange to be able to flip a switch and have a light come on, but he was getting used to it. He had to admit it was nice to have a refrigerator again.

  The work had kept him distracted somewhat. Now he had to face a long, gaping winter with nothing to fill it. Weren’t many projects a man could tackle in the mountains in the winter.

  He’d called Kismet again last week. Not a word from Mattie since the last time he’d called, when she reported Brian was safely in prison.

  As he shoveled the stalls, he gave himself a talk. Maybe George and Roxanne were right. What was he gaining by cloaking himself in stubborn pride? He missed the woman with a relentless, aching pain that never went away. His first thought in the morning was Mattie. He drifted off to sleep thinking of her. At night, his dreams were filled with the feeling of her, all around him.

  After all those years and all those women, Zeke was in love. It was a lot harder than he thought it would be. A much bigger problem than he’d expected. He couldn’t shove it under a carpet in his mind and let it go away. Not that he didn’t try.

  It just kept crawling out. He’d be playing with Tommy and wonder how Mattie felt about dog
s. He rode through the mountains, on his own land on his own horse, and wanted to teach her how to ride. The gentle mare was made for a small woman like Mattie, and Zeke hadn’t given the animal a name.

  He sighed and shook his head. He didn’t want to go through this winter without her. He didn’t want another day to pass without seeing her again. If he didn’t at least try, he’d be lost the rest of his life.

  In the corrals beyond the barn, the horses whinnied. Tommy, who’d been happily snuffling through the stables, jumped up and started barking urgently. The puppy rushed to the doors.

  Curious over who in the world would have made the trek up here in this kind of weather, he propped his shovel against the wall, brushed off his jeans and ambled out.

  Mattie.

  Chapter 17

  *

  HIS HEART SLAMMED to a stop. As the blood stilled in his body, he stared at her, wondering with a blank sense of unreality if his longing had conjured her up. She stood uncertainly by the fence, wearing a pretty coat of purple and green with gold in a brocade pattern all over it, and jeans. And a good pair of Zodiac boots with low heels. Her hair gleamed in the pinkish light, and fat clumps of snow stuck to it.

  “I hope you meant it,” she said at last. “I took you up on your invitation.”

  The blood in his body unfroze, and rushed through him in a blistering wash. He didn’t move, afraid if he did, he’d overwhelm her. “I’m glad.”

  Slowly, he crossed the space between them, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe properly. Close to her, he stopped. “You mind if I give you a welcome hug?”

  The wide brown eyes flickered. “No,” she said softly. “Not at all.”

  Zeke bent and wrapped his arms around her. She flowed into his embrace as if she were pieces lost from him, and he held her close, so close, breathing in the smell of her hair, the feel of her small, rounded body, the feel of her hair against his cheek. He closed his eyes, almost dizzy with the reality of her, now, next to him. “It hasn’t been the same without you, Miss Mary.”