The sheriff had returned from the back and confirmed what Hank said. “Jacob didn’t want to spook you, so that’s why he came to my office. It was slit sure as can be. Jacob said Dale had been out at the ranch yesterday and thought that was too much of a coincidence.”
“And he didn’t feel he should share this information with me—the owner of the car?” Her face heated as her gaze volleyed between the two men. The same fear that coursed through her when Dale grabbed and threatened her needed some place to go. It turned into fiery anger at Jacob for deciding not to let her in on her own life.
Hank sunk his hands into his pockets. “Jacob meant no harm by it. He’s just trying to help you.”
Why?
Then she did a mental head shake. Not all men were as conceited as Dale, or her ex, and thought only of themselves. Her own brothers and father were the kindest men she’d ever known, but she hadn’t had the best luck when it came to men her own age.
Telling the sheriff, not wanting to scare her, did seem like something Jacob would do, the little she knew about Jacob.
She looked at Hank, the concern obvious on his face. Her anger slipped away. “Don’t kill the messenger,” she said under her breath.
“Okay then.” The sheriff took a step away from the group. “I think I have all I need. I’ll be in touch if there’s anything else.” Slapping his hat back on his head, he tipped it quickly and turned to go.
Hank walked the sheriff to the door. The two paused, talking too low for Zan to hear, then the sheriff went out and talked to Dale. Judging by the pinched brow and angry turned-down mouth, she hadn’t heard the last from him. She turned back to her bowl of ice cream and tried to clear her mind as Hank sat next to her.
“He said he’ll try to keep his eye on the boy. Hopefully he won’t be bothering you anymore.” He dug into the bowl Missy sat in front of him. “Dale, hmm.” Hank snorted, took a couple of bites then said, “That boy ain’t been nothin’ but trouble since his mama died back in ’75.”
“It’s got to be rough losing a parent at such a young age.” Zan couldn’t believe she was defending the man.
“Don’t matter. It’s no excuse.” He shook his head. “Look at Missy’s boy.”
A pink tint crawled up Missy’s cheeks.
“His daddy—” Hank paused and took a deep breath, “—and my oldest both died when the boy was four. You don’t see him acting out like that. It’s ’cause he’s got a good mama watching out for him.”
Missy’s husband and brother had died in a plane crash several years back. Missy had spoken about it one night while Zan ate dinner. So much death for a small town, although probably no more than any other place, but it was more evident because everyone knew everyone else. They were all linked to one another in some way.
“That’s enough, Daddy. Zan probably wants to get going.”
Zan could hear the stress in Missy’s voice. The woman didn’t like to talk about her late husband.
Zan nodded and stood. “Tell Jacob…”
What did she want Hank to tell him?
Many things ran through her mind, least of which was gratitude. The man stirred so many emotions in her she didn’t think were even still in working order. She couldn’t tell Jacob and she surely couldn’t tell Hank, so she settled for the easiest thing. “Tell him, thanks.”
———
Jacob was plum tired by the time he pulled into Saddle Creek Ranch. He’d spent the entire day in Sheridan with his grandfather. Usually he’d only stay a few hours, taking the man out to lunch and then to a movie or something. Today, Papaw seemed so low. But Jacob had expected it—it was his grandparents’ anniversary.
Jacob’s grandmother had died over twenty years earlier, but Oscar Bowman had never gotten over the death of his beloved Stella. The woman had been his entire world. He once told Jacob, the love of that woman was the thing that made him wake up each morning and take his next breath. Jacob had smiled, but he couldn’t believe a man would be so consumed by a woman, any woman. It was a nice thought, but not a realistic one.
It wasn’t as if Jacob didn’t like women. He loved them, sure. He’d just never found the occasion to be “in love” with one. Over the years, he’d had relationships, but when the women tried to settle in and start picking china patterns, Jacob got restless and called it quits. Never once did any woman induce a desire for a long term. Much less “happily ever after”.
With one exception. And he fought hard never to think of Trisha.
As he pulled up in front of his small house—being the ranch foreman, he got his own quarters—Zan Walters’s face popped into his head. Now there was a woman he’d like to get to know better. Something about her… He couldn’t push her from his mind. His fingers itched to touch the short, soft hair that always looked so untidy. Her full, almost pouty lips invited—begged—to be kissed. And that body. Her full, curvy figure wound its way into his dreams night after night, making him ache for her. He was instantly hard, and had to shift awkwardly to get out from the truck.
“Control yourself boy.” He shifted as he unlocked his front door.
Before he could even sit in his recliner and throw his feet up, there was a loud knock. His gut tightened. Maybe it was Zan. Why would she come to see him…this late at night…at his home?
Jacob shook his head. She wouldn’t. Someone was standing on his doorstep knocking again. Leaving his hat perched on his head, he opened the door.
“Hank? What are you up to this late at night?”
The older man frowned. “I’ve been waiting for you to get in. Why’re you out so late? Your granddaddy okay?”
“Yeah. I just stayed a little longer, we got to chatting. What’s up?”
Hank motioned into the living room and Jacob’s gut tightened even more. Something was wrong.
“Sorry.” Jacob stepped back and let his friend in. “Have a seat.” Hank sat on the edge of the worn sofa that took up most of the meager living room. Jacob removed his hat, hanging it on the rack by the front door then sat in the recliner across from Hank. He crossed and uncrossed his ankles, played with the seam of the chair. His friend’s late night visit gave him the jitters. It wasn’t like the man to wait up for him. “What can I do for ya?”
“Dale was at it again.”
Jacob jumped to his feet. “What do you mean?” This was worse. The ranch he could handle if a problem arose, but Dale, Dale was like a plague. It infected everything in its path. And unfortunately, one Miss Zan Walters was in direct line of the disease.
“The girl was having her supper up at the diner. Not bothering a soul,” Hank started saying. “He come charging in, yelling at her for siccing Reese on him.”
“Damn, I was afraid of that. What happened? Is she okay?”
“Yeah. Scared her some, though. He grabbed her up. Shook her a time or two. If I’d been younger I’d have kicked his ass from here to there, but all I could do was stand by and make sure he didn’t get too rough with her.”
Jacob could hear the regret in the older man’s voice. He didn’t blame him none. Dale was a good twenty years younger and far bulkier than Hank.
“She held her own ’til the sheriff got there,” he said, finishing his rundown.
Jacob nodded and grabbed his hat as he rushed back out the door before his friend could say anything else.
Chapter Five
“I’m fine, Aunt Bonnie, I swear,” she said after pulling the strawberry lollipop from her mouth.
Damn, Zan couldn’t believe how fast word traveled. Only a few short hours after her incident with Dale and six different people called her aunt all the way in Sheridan to tell her. There hadn’t even been that many people in the diner.
Zan tucked her feet up under her as she sat on the sofa in her living room. “He didn’t hurt me. I promise.” A little white lie couldn’t hurt.
“You’d tell me if he did, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat.” A little bit bigger lie, but she didn’t want to
worry her aunt. The older woman couldn’t really do anything from Sheridan. Zan had taken care of it—she hoped. “He’s just a jerk. Mostly he’s all bark, with an orthodontia-corrected overbite.” She tried to joke, but it left a bad taste in her mouth along with the sugary treat. Just talking about Dale made her lose the taste for anything sweet. She got up and walked to the kitchen to throw away the rest of the sucker.
“Stay away from him, Zan. If you see him coming down the street, cross it. I know that seems like the coward thing to do, but better to be a living chicken, than a dead duck.”
“Aunt Bonnie.” She laughed, but stopped abruptly and stiffened when she heard a knock at the front door. She didn’t want to alarm her aunt, who was too far away to do anything about it, so she kept talking. “Tell me again about the festival coming up.”
Bonnie went on, telling Zan details that she didn’t hear as she crept to the front of the house. She reached the front door, and as she set her hand on the wood to peer out the peephole, the person on the porch knocked again. Zan fought back a scream.
Her knees slowed their knocking enough for her to lift up on her tiptoes and look out. Nothing but blackness. Something was blocking the lens. Her heart hammered in her chest.
As she looked again, her finger poised to hang up on Bonnie and dial 911, the blackness moved. It was a hat. Then a face came into view.
Jacob.
She nearly melted with relief as she unlocked and opened the door. Jacob turned and looked at her. A smile creased his face and that weak-kneed feeling returned, accompanied by a massive fluttering in her stomach.
She held up a finger for him to hold on, and then pointed to the phone. “Sounds great, Aunt Bonnie. Look…”
“I knew you’d want to help. Gene said not to bother you since you were still getting settled in to a new place. But I knew you’d do it.”
Uh-oh. What had she just agreed to do? “Exactly, what will that entail?”
Zan was patting herself on the back for such a sly way to figure out what the in hell she’d gotten into. She watched Jacob look around her living room. He’d been there the night before, but he’d lit out pretty quick.
“…dunking booth,” Zan heard although she had stopped paying attention again.
Bonnie’s words registered finally. “I have to sit in a dunk booth?”
“Well, yes. What did you think I meant?” Bonnie sounded confused.
Zan slapped her forehead. She caught Jacob trying to hide his smirk and glowered at him. “Just clarifying. Look, Aunt Bonnie, I gotta run now. I love you. Bye.” Zan hung up the phone before she agreed to any more duties. That’ll teach me to listen when Bonnie speaks.
Jacob stood in front of the sofa and tracked her with his intense gaze as she returned the cordless phone to the base. “So you’re going to help out with the Fall Festival. That’s right neighborly of you, you being new and all.” He heaped on the western drawl as a grin stretched across his face. “The dunkin’ booth is a crowd favorite. Folks come from miles around to watch a good dunkin’.”
“Is that what I agreed to? I wasn’t sure. She was talking a hundred miles an hour then I heard someone at my door.” Zan motioned him to the sofa. Jacob removed his hat and balanced it on his knee when he sat. She sat at the opposite end. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors this late at night, so I got distracted and I agreed without knowing what I was getting into.” She laughed and shook her head. “So what brings you out here this late?”
The smile on Jacob’s face fell away. He balled his hands in his lap and studied them.
Zan leaned across the empty cushion and set her hand on his forearm. “Jacob, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry about what happened today with Dale.” He continued to look down at his hands, not making eye contact with her. “If I’d known he’d react that way, I never would have gone to Sheridan.”
“It’s not your fault. The man’s a jerk.” She squeezed his arm and was startled when he covered her hand with his own. The warmth of his skin seeped into her. He looked up at her, his brown eyes intense with… What? Remorse? Passion? Both? Maybe he had strong feelings about a bully like Dale Holstrom picking on a woman—any woman. Not that Zan was weak or defenseless, by any means. Maybe the same odd desire that swept through her every time she he came near kept him awake and aching at night. Maybe he was just a damn nice guy—end of story. She fought back a sigh. “It’s not as if you could have predicted what would happen.”
“Yeah, but I should have known,” he said. “I should have seen it coming. He’s always had a short fuse. I wasn’t thinking when I went to Reese.” He sounded guilty for Dale’s bad behavior.
Zan surprised herself by turning her hand over so their palms touched and their fingers entwined. “You did what you thought was right. The man’s an ass. You can’t control how he’ll react to something. And you shouldn’t have to.” She looked him straight in the eye. The fluttering in her stomach sped up and made a damn good effort to float her right off the sofa. “Look, I told you before; most people wouldn’t go to that much trouble for someone. You’re a nice guy, Jacob Bowman.”
She watched the color crawl over his face. An odd look clouded his eyes.
“I, ah…” He cleared his throat. “May I have a glass of water?”
Yeah, water, that would be good. She needed to cool off too. Something about the man made her overheat just being near him. “Sure.”
Zan reluctantly released his hand and headed into the kitchen. She took a moment to regroup. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head on the refrigerator and took a deep breath.
“Wow.” She couldn’t believe the effect Jacob Bowman had on her. Heat and desire pooled in places she’d given up on a long time ago.
After the years with Charles, she lost…herself. She hadn’t cared about passion, intimacy and anything related to sex—it just hadn’t mattered. With Jacob and his modest white knight attitude, Zan’s hormones turned her into a puddle of wanton female, gave her hopes for a second chance at love someday. Maybe even with Jacob.
“Whoa, Nellie. Getting a little ahead of myself here.” She shook her head. “Not ready to go there. Need to focus on the moment, just this one moment. “What was I doing? Water. Jacob asked for a glass of water.”
Quickly filling two glasses, she headed back into the living room.
“Zan, I…” She heard Jacob say as she rounded the corner.
“Oh shit.” She ran smack-dab into Jacob’s chest. Water spilled down the front of her, soaked into her sweatshirt.
“Geez, I’m sorry.” He took the glasses, held them both in one large hand then dragged her back into the kitchen. He set the emptied glasses on the counter and pulled the hand towel from the fridge door. “Aw man.” He dabbed at her wet clothing.
Once, twice he patted her breast then shoved the towel in her hand. “Uh, you can do this.”
It was so cute when a big strong man blushed.
“Thanks, but I’d rather just take it off. It’s cold.” Zan dropped the towel on the floor and grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt.
She watched Jacob’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I, uh…”
Zan laughed and his blush deepened. “I have a T-shirt on underneath.” She pulled the wet fleece top over her head and dropped it at her feet.
“Not much better,” he said barely above a whisper.
Zan looked down. The lace of her bra showed through the damp white T-shirt. When her gaze returned to his, her breath caught. Desire darkened his eyes and he moved closer. He took both her hands in his and leaned in.
Zan’s heart raced as his lips lowered to hers. First, he met her with a long, lingering kiss. One that, even in its simplicity, ignited an old, long-forgotten flame. Then he adjusted his touch with soft kisses as he explored her mouth, kissing one corner then the other. He moved on to her cheeks. When his mouth again settled on hers, it took little encouragement for her to deepen the kiss. “You taste so sweet. Strawberry.”
&
nbsp; As his tongue plunged into her mouth, his hands slid up her arms. Sharp pain shot through her and she gasped, jumping back. She found two large bruises.
“What is it? Did I hurt you?”
Zan couldn’t take her eyes from the discoloration. “My arms.”
“What?” His hands loosened. “What in the hell?”
“Dale…” She finally tore her gaze away and looked at Jacob. She was stunned by the anger that all but bubbled out of him.
“He did this to you?”
“He grabbed me at the diner, but I didn’t realize…”
“I’m calling Sheriff Reese.” Jacob turned away from her and grabbed the phone from the counter.
“No. Don’t.” Shivers wracked her body.
Jacob put the receiver back and eyed Zan.
“The sheriff came in on the tail end of it. He already knows.”
“Did Reese arrest the son of a bitch?”
“No.”
“Zan…”
“I filed a complaint.”
“A complaint?”
“It won’t do any good to have him arrested. But it’s on record now. This way Dale knows I mean business and have no qualms about standing up to him. And he’ll leave me alone.”
Jacob doubted that, but he didn’t comment further. He was still too angry about the bruises on her arms. He pulled Zan into a gentle embrace. She wound her arms tight around his waist. Her wet T-shirt dampened the front of his shirt, but he didn’t care. Holding her, comforting her, was all he could think of at the moment.
Her teeth rattled when she settled her head onto his chest. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m just cold.”
Right. Damn Dale Holstrom.
Despite his anger, he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. Running his hand down her back, he closed his eyes and reveled in her scent, vanilla and sugar, like cookies. Zan snuggled closer to him, her arms holding on to him like a lifeline. She rested her head against his shoulder with a sigh. Warm breath feathered his neck, heating his blood.
Second Chances Page 4
