by Devon McKay
“Boys will be here tomorrow afternoon. Ten of them, all confused, and troubled. Same as I was.” Pausing, he pondered on his next words. “They need a safe place. I figured Walker land was as good as any.”
Nate searched the weathered man’s face for a response. Thomas remained impassive with no reaction other than a slight nod. His expression remained stoic and unreadable.
He tilted his chin, perturbed by the nagging need to explain his past behavior. “That’s where I’ve been for the last couple of years. I was lead counselor on a ranch like what I want this one to become. As a kid, the whole world seemed against me. I had this uneasiness inside me.” He kicked at a rock hidden partially in the dirt. The confession caused his stomach to roll in rocky waves.
“Remember how pissed off I was? Always itching for a fight, for a reason to lash out at someone. So I’d feel better. And it worked, for a while.”
He shot a glance at Thomas, curious to see the man’s reaction. There wasn’t one.
“Fighting worked. Until that night with my dad,” he continued, clenching his hands into fists, and releasing them. He returned his attention back to kicking at the rock, now with a little more intensity. “When I left here, I roamed from town to town never finding what I needed. Do you know what I mean? I was searching for a place where I belonged, where I wasn’t so damn angry. I found it, but it wasn’t a place. It was in here,” he admitted, pointing at his chest. “Took a long time to figure it all out. Hell, I still got some figuring to do. I just want you to know, I’m not the same screwed up kid anymore.”
Thomas remained silent, though nodded his head in indication he’d heard the confession. Nate hadn’t quite regained his trust, seeing traces of suspicion still evident in the man’s stare, but at least he said what needed to be said.
“So...you saying...you like kids?” Thomas asked, his voice a cool, distant tone.
Progress? Nate hid a smile, answering the question in the same way. “Yeah, I guess I do. I like these kids, anyway. Most of them remind me of my old ways, of how I once was. Helping them out...well, it makes me feel good, too, you know? It gives them some kind of stability. There was a man who tried as much for me in my troubled teens. Of course, I didn’t appreciate it then. I do now.” He spared another glance at Thomas, noting his admission had garnished a thoughtful expression.
“I never thanked you for that.” Nate reached down and grabbed his tool belt off of the nearby fence post, then glanced up, locking gazes with Jessie’s father. The man shared the same guarded stare as his daughter. Thomas didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t blame him.
“And...Jessie?”
Nate fastened the belt around his waist. “As far as Jess goes, I don’t plan on hurting her again,” he declared in a soft whisper, just loud enough his words were heard. He knew Thomas expected more of an explanation, but he didn’t offer.
“Jessie isn’t...the only one...I’m worried about,” her father returned, obviously not quite swayed by his candid confession.
Nate watched in silence as the older man walked to his old Ford and drove down his drive. For several minutes, the fading taillights of the truck garnished his attention. He had plenty of work to keep him busy until the boys showed up, but it could also wait. His thoughts returned to the meaning of Thomas’ haunting words. The man was right, he had let a lot of people down.
J.W. met him at the fence, eager for a little attention, nudging his hand for a snack. But he knew what the horse wanted. A hard ride through the property. He toyed with the idea. Afterwards, he could stop at the creek to cool off, maybe some fishing.
Without second guessing his decision, he strode toward the barn, removing the tool belt and trading it for the large leather saddle. He paused long enough to retrieve his old Stetson hanging on the stall post.
Truth be told, Jessie wasn’t the only one he was worried about either. Being this close to her scared the hell out of him. But it sure wouldn’t hurt to see her again. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, despite the lie.
It would hurt like hell to see her again. Why would he want to torture himself and not be able to touch her? Was that the kind of sweet torment he wanted to put himself through?
“You bet your ass,” he said out loud in reckless abandonment.
Chapter 9
Nate never made it over to Jessie’s ranch after his ride to the creek. He did, however, make it to the Lucky Horseshoe Bar later that evening to find her. The joint was hopping, busy for a weeknight.
It was selfish of him to think he could have Jessie’s attention all to himself, but he hadn’t anticipated such a large crowd. He headed into the smoky room, choosing an isolated corner table he was sure she was serving. Her laughter drew him in within seconds.
He’d heard the familiar giggle as soon as he entered the pub, following it to where she was standing by a table of two couples. The sight of her stunned him. Her smile, radiant, lit up the place.
Vibrant, she gave her full attention to every customer. Perhaps she was in her element. Or maybe this was home for her. His gaze swept over the sea of familiar faces landing on Alan, the man he would never forget.
Already, Nate had memorized every detail of the barkeep’s face. Although, not on purpose. The man haunted him each time he closed his eyes, unable to erase the sight of him kissing Jessie.
Nate followed Alan’s direct stare, which centered on Jessie. He wasn’t the only one lost in her charms. A spike of jealousy shot through him, and he shifted in his seat. Blood boiling, he grit his teeth, in a vain effort to regain some sense of self-control.
He didn’t want control. What he wanted was to beat the man senseless. Arguing internally, he opened and closed his fists, allowing the candid display he’d seen in the storeroom to take control and spur his maddening behavior on. What did she find so damn attractive about him anyway? The man wasn’t good enough for Jessie. No one was.
Alan’s light blue gaze locked onto his. Nate refused to back down, holding the stare. The exchange lasted for several minutes until the mug the bartender had been drying broke under his tight hold, shattering shards of glass all over the bar.
Enraged, the man clenched his jaw, altering his immaculate boy next door image. His composure continued to crack as he cleaned up, sweeping pieces of glass off the counter. Appearing far from poised, his face beamed an inflamed shade of red.
Nate smiled, a sense of gratification scoring through his veins. He’d won this round, managing to get under pretty boy’s skin. Although, he didn’t quite feel like celebrating. No, not yet. Not while he was unable to shake his uneasiness about the man. Nate didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust him. Not when it came to Jessie.
The woman was sweet natured, trusting...and irritated.
“The usual?” she snapped, stepping in front of him, the hourglass curve of her left hip blocking his view of Alan’s fixed stare. She balanced a tray of empty bottles on her right hip. Her lips were pursed in a grim, tense line instead of the smile she had worn minutes before.
“Yeah, I’d like one of you to go,” he said.
She rebuffed him, her face hiding any sign of acknowledgement she’d heard his line.
“One Budweiser coming up, or did you want a shot of whiskey?” She turned away before he could answer.
He reached for her arm, stopping her escape. “I want you.”
Jessie ignored his husky demand, ripping her arm free from his grasp. “And I want you, too,” she remarked, cool and calculated, pursing her lips even tighter.
She leaned in close enough he could smell the sweet mint of her breath. The scent of spring flowers drifted from her hair. Honeysuckle.
“I want you to stay away from my ranch, stay away from my family, and stay the hell away from me, Nate Walker,” she snapped before stomping off.
He couldn’t control the roguish grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. His smile widened, glued to the angry sway of her hips as she walked to the bar and placed his order. He’d miss
ed her sassy mouth, her bold, saucy remarks. As a matter of fact, he was starting to look forward to these brief exchanges. If all else failed, at least the ride promised to be adventurous.
Alan appeared, putting a damper on his fun.
The man slammed a beer and a shot of whiskey down on the table. “These are on the house. Drink them and leave. Jessie and I don’t want any trouble out of you.”
Nate ignored the abrasive statement, taunting him with a smartass nod before Alan left the table. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest as if the man’s words had little effect on him. Although they did, the impact of their implied meaning hitting him like a brick wall.
Jessie and I?
The words circled sickly in his head, and he downed the shot. Swigging on the bottle of Budweiser, he observed the other patrons, while keeping a watchful gaze on Jessie. He wasn’t alone. Alan’s relentless stare had returned to her, glued on her every move.
They had something going on, though Jessie didn’t seem to share the same intensity as the man did. No, she appeared to be annoyed by the attention. And the bartender seemed obsessed with her. Even more so than he was.
Nate took another long draw out of his bottle, counteracting the thought. He wasn’t just infatuated like the other guy; he was way past that point.
He was head over heels in love with Jessie.
“So, you came back for more?”
Nate ignored the question, not sure who it was directed at until the cue ball from the pool table smashed onto his table, knocking the Budweiser out of his hand. His gaze locked with a patron’s furious glare. The large, beefy man stood his ground, shaky as it was.
Flooded by a nasty recollection of their last encounter, he finally placed the man. Jimmy Greenwood. The last time he’d seen the ugly mug, Greenwood’s fists had been determined to rearrange his facial features. He’d damn near came close too, eying the ivory ball now clenched tight in the irate man’s hand.
“It’s been a long time, pal. How about a beer?” He kicked a chair toward Jimmy, encouraging him to sit down before he fell down.
A confused expression spread across the drunkard’s face, making him appear far less menacing. Hard to believe this was even the same man.
Nate reached out, up-righting the over-turned beer bottle. The Jimmy he remembered had been a solid mass of muscle. Now, his flesh hung in loose rolls off his thick frame.
“I don’t want a damn beer. What’d you call me? We aren’t pals. I don’t want a beer, and I damn sure don’t want to be your friend. What I want...” Greenwood hesitated, his thoughts obviously slowed by alcohol. Although, by the way the man was licking his lips, he seemed to be considering the idea.
Running his tongue over his chipped front tooth, he grabbed the Budweiser and drank the remaining beer from Nate’s bottle.
“I’m gonna bash your face in,” Jimmy slurred. “Yeah, just like you did to me. Did you think I would forget? See?”
Spittle flew out his mouth as he returned the bottle down hard on the table, reinforcing his point. He took his free hand and pulled back his top lip, showcasing part of his missing tooth, then he picked up the empty beer bottle again and brought it to his lips. After a few minutes of sucking in nothing but air, he dropped it to the floor.
The show had been more comedic than threatening, and Nate couldn’t hold back his laughter, chuckling out loud. Jimmy Greenwood was still an idiot.
“Hey, somebody get me a drink,” Jimmy shouted over the roar of snickering from the crowd gathering. Catching sight of Jessie, the drunkard stumbled in her direction. “Beer. Get me a beer,” he demanded, grabbing her arm.
Hearing her surprised yelp of pain, Nate responded with a speed he hadn’t known he possessed. Jumping to his feet, he wrestled the large man into a controlled choke hold, his response lethal and raw. As soon as Jimmy had touched Jessie, he’d seen red, his reaction pure instinct.
“I told you I didn’t want any problems.” He tightened his arm around Jimmy’s neck.
The stocky man struggled, trying to break free of his confinement. The more he resisted, the tighter Nate’s hold got. Jimmy’s eyes, red with determination, bulged out of his head as he struggled for air.
“I’m not the same guy I once was, but I can be, real quick like, if you ever touch my girl again. Got it?” Nate spoke in a calm voice, but his words secreted venom. His hold tightened much like a boa constrictor embracing its next meal.
Jimmy stopped squirming.
“Nate...Stop, please stop! You’re going to kill him.”
He scowled into the crowd closing in around them, focusing on the shaken sound of Jessie’s voice. She had an alarming grip on his upper arm he hadn’t noticed until now. He stared into her eyes, reading fear.
It had been a long time since he had seen such trepidation. Once, when she witnessed one of his father’s drunken bouts, a couple of times during a summer storm, but never had she directed such a terrified look toward him. She was scared.
Of him.
He lessened his grip, tossing Jimmy away. The inebriated man staggered to regain his balance. Damn it, he had never meant to lose his cool, not in front of her. Maybe he hadn’t changed all that much from the boy who had run from this town.
However, to give himself credit, he had maintained some kind of control over his actions. He didn’t kill Jimmy the minute the drunkard laid his grubby hands on her. He’d wanted to. But he didn’t, not even clenching a fist.
Still, he was incensed, ashamed at his lack of control. And angry enough to get the hell out of the Lucky Horseshoe, but not without Jessie.
“Jess?” He reached his hand out to her, and for a moment, he almost thought she would go with him, but she paused. Unsettled by the indecision in her eyes, he asked again. “Jessie, are you coming with me?”
She answered with her hesitancy, not quite covered by the fear he still saw.
Nate stormed out of the bar with Jimmy’s angry promise to kick his ass following him through the door.
Chapter 10
Jessie watched Nate leave, torn by the inner turmoil flashing across his features. When he’d reached out to her, she knew she would follow him anywhere. Yet she’d hesitated, battling with her own demons, while fighting against the strong urge to chase after him. The man held her heart, promising nothing but heartache, yet she couldn’t dismiss his pain. She stared at the door.
He would probably be beating himself up. Right now, he needed her more than ever, recalling the inner struggle in his eyes. Jessie shot a timid glance in Jimmy’s direction. He regained his composure, now sitting at a corner table as if the incident had never even occurred. The rage in Nate’s eyes came back to haunt her. If she hadn’t stopped him... Jessie shuddered.
In a job like hers, she should be used to drunks groping her by now, but she wasn’t, still shaken by the way Jimmy Greenwood’s grasp had caught her off guard. Without Nate’s intervening, no one else would have stepped in.
So what? It’s not like that made him her knight in shining armor.
Attempting to stand firm, she reminded herself the heartbreak such a thought could lead to. Jessie kneeled down to pick up a bottle off the floor. To hell with Nate anyway.
She should just let him leave, yet knew the task would be impossible. Her heart wouldn’t let her. Not when he needed her. Or ever.
“I’ve got to go, Alan.” She tossed the empty bottle into the recycle can at the end of the bar.
He walked over to her, reaching for her hand with a gentle touch. “I understand,” he said squeezing her fingers. “You must be really shook up. I’m sorry. I saw it all from here, but I couldn’t get to you fast enough. Did he...did he hurt you?”
Jessie stared into his caring eyes and sighed out loud. Alan...sweet Alan.
“No, he just startled me. I just...I’ve got to go,” she stammered, hoping he would accept the excuse without her going into the debate of why. The last thing she wanted was to explain the reason she had t
o leave had nothing to do with what she just went through, and everything to do with chasing after a man who continued to break her heart.
“If you wait, I’ll have Casey close the bar. She could probably handle it now.” Alan’s gaze diverted toward the other server, a perky redhead. The room had emptied since the altercation. Most of the crowd thinned out.
He came out from around the bar and wrapped his arms around her as she tried hard not to pull away. Jessie flinched, unable to explain her intense repulsion to his touch.
“I’ve got to go now.” She pushed away, the unbearable need to get away from him too strong to ignore. A comforting hug was the very last thing she wanted from the man.
He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort and continued talking, “Nate Walker is nothing but trouble. I hope you can see that now. I know at one time you two had a little...ah...fling, for a loss of better words to describe your indiscretion. But it’s in the past now. You are better off without his...oh, I guess the best word would be drama. Don’t you have enough on your plate?”
Jessie stiffened, a burning sensation turning her stomach. She knew he was inquiring about her children and found the question far from empathetic.
Biting her tongue, she shot him a disparaging glance, unsure of what to make of his speech. She was offended, but was it for the right reasons? His words stung, although, they did have some truth to them. And here she was ready to run into the lion’s den.
“No. I’ll be fine. I’m just headed straight home. Thanks, Alan.” She excused herself, appearing to be in complete control despite the inner turmoil his words stirred.
Once outside, she embraced the night, welcoming the way darkness never judged. If this was so wrong, why did it feel so right? Inhaling a shaky breath of air, she scanned the parking lot for Nate.
She heard the rumble of a motorcycles engine and her head spun in the direction of the sound. As soon as she saw him, she waved her hand in the air. “Nate. Wait, Nate,” she screamed over the motor’s steady purr.
