She whirled back to Zack. "You missed him!"
"I shot into the air."
"Why?" she asked, incredulous.
He shrugged those broad shoulders. Despite the fierce need to pump every ounce of air to her oxygen-starved cells now that the danger had passed, her heart skipped a beat at how big and strong and wonderful he looked leaning there against a rock. "I saw you scare away his prey. You can't blame the guy for going after the consolation prize."
She stared at him. "You were going to let him take a chunk out of me just because I didn't want to watch him kill a poor, helpless deer in front of me?"
"Naw." He grinned and she began to feel a little shaky. "I probably would have gotten around to shooting him once he caught up to you."
"Well, that's comforting."
He only laughed at her snappish tone. "You okay?"
"Swell. Thanks so much for your help." The panic of the moment, coupled with the fact that she hadn't had time to eat anything since breakfast, combined to make her feel a little light-headed.
Zack walked closer to her, then frowned. "You're shaking."
"I think I need to sit down."
To her complete chagrin, she swayed and would have fallen over if he hadn't suddenly moved as fast as the cougar had—and with exactly the same lithe grace—and reached for her.
He guided her to the soft meadow grass. "Here we go. Just sit here for a minute until you feel more like yourself."
She hissed in fast breaths between her teeth, thinking again of that terrible moment when she thought her number was up. Remembering it wasn't helping calm her down, any more than having Zack Slater crouching so close.
She knew she was trying to distract herself from her scare but she couldn't help noticing his hard mouth, just inches from hers. A little wildly, she wondered what it would be like to have those lips on hers, how he would go about kissing a woman.
"Deep and slow." His voice broke through her thoughts, and she stared at him, suddenly terrified he'd read her mind.
"Wha-what?"
"You're going to hyperventilate if you keep breathing so fast. Slow down a little."
Wrenching her mind away from any thoughts of the man's kisses, she focused once more on the cougar. "Do you think he'll be back? We should watch the calves."
"I think between the two of us, we've probably scared him clear to Cody by now."
They sat there for a moment longer until she felt she had enough control of herself to return to camp.
To her amazement Zack had stuck close to her all evening, as if afraid she might have some delayed reaction to almost becoming cat bait. He was sweetly protective, even insisting on going with her to bury the remains of their food from any wandering bears.
Later they sat around the campfire long after the Lawson brothers had gone to bed, talking softly while each glittering star came out and the wind mourned through the tops of the pines and the fire hissed and sputtered.
She told him of her parents and her grief and how tough it had been after their deaths. He shared snippets of his own childhood, of moving from town to town with a saddle bum for a father and of being on his own since he was fifteen.
And then, when the campfire burned down to embers, he walked her to her tent, pushed her hair away from her face with a work-hardened hand and softly kissed her.
It had been worlds better than anything she could have imagined. Sweet and tender and passionate all at once. Just one kiss and he had completely stolen her heart.
That had been the beginning. They were inseparable after that and had tumbled hard and fast into love. It had been the most incredible three months of her life, filled with laughter and heady excitement and slow, sexy kisses when her brothers weren't looking.
Until it ended so horribly....
* * *
Cassie came back to the present to several depressing realizations. The water in the tub was now lukewarm, bordering on cool, and any bubbles had long since fizzled away.
And, much worse, silent tears were coursing down her cheeks as she relived the past.
Oh, cripes. Hadn't she cried enough tears over Zack Slater? It was a waste of good salt. The man wasn't worth it ten years ago, and he certainly wasn't worth it now.
She climbed from the tub, wrapping herself in a thick towel, then splashed her face with cold water to cool her aching, puffy eyes. She hadn't indulged in a good, old-fashioned pity party for a long time, and she figured she must have been long overdue. But enough was enough. Now that it was all out of her system, she could move on.
She put on her robe and decided on a glass of milk before bed. Just as she was opening the refrigerator and reaching for the carton, she heard a knock at the front door.
Rats. It was probably Jean coming to check on her one more time. The last thing she wanted was to have company, with the mood she was in tonight. She thought about ignoring it, but the knocks only grew louder and more insistent. Gritting her teeth, she looked out the small window at the cabin next to her, thinking of the man who now stayed there.
The man who now owned the whole blasted place.
What if he decided to venture outside to investigate the commotion? She didn't need another encounter with him today. Swearing under her breath, she went to the door and swung it open, then her breath seemed to tangle in her lungs.
Well, she didn't have to worry about Zack coming out to see who was banging on her door, since he was the one standing there, fist raised to knock one more time.
* * *
Chapter 3
« ^ »
As he'd expected, she didn't look exactly thrilled to see him. Her eyes turned wintry, her mouth went as tight as a shriveled-up prune, and her spine stiffened, vertebrae by vertebrae.
Even so, she looked so beautiful he had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her.
She must have only just climbed out of the bath. Her still-damp hair, a few shades darker than normal, clung to her head, and she had wrapped herself in a silky robe of the palest yellow. The delectable smell of peaches wafted to him on the cool, early-summer breeze, and his mouth watered.
Framed in the light from inside her cabin, she looked warm and soft and welcoming, just as he had imagined her a thousand times over the years.
Her voice, though, was as cold as her eyes. "What do you want?"
Just to see you. To hear your voice again. He shifted his weight, alarmed at the need instantly pulsing through him just at the sight of her. He would have to do a much better job of controlling himself if he wanted this plan to work.
"I just spoke with Jean." Despite his best intentions, his voice came out a little ragged. "She said you tendered your resignation."
He didn't think it was possible, but that prune-mouth tightened even more. "What else did you expect?"
"I expected you to show a little more backbone."
She stared at him for several seconds. In the porch light her eyes looked huge, those dark lashes wide with disbelief, and then she laughed harshly. "Oh that's a good one, coming from you. Really good. Thanks. I needed a good joke tonight."
Okay. He deserved that. He had no right to lecture her about staying power when he had been the one who walked away just days before their wedding. Still, that was a different situation altogether.
He plodded gamely forward. "So you're just going to walk out and turn your back on Mrs. Martineau when she needs you?"
Her gaze shifted to some spot over his shoulder. "Jean has nothing to do with this. You're the new owner. That means I'm turning my back on you."
"We need to talk about this."
"No, we don't." She started to close the door, but his instincts kicked in and he managed to think fast enough to shove a boot in the space. Still, she pushed the door hard enough to make him wince.
"We don't have anything to say to each other," she snapped.
"I think we do. Come on, Cass. Let me in."
After a long pause where she continued to shove t
he door painfully against his foot, she finally shrugged and stepped back. He followed before she had a chance to change her mind.
Inside, he saw the cabin's floor plan matched his. Here, though, it was obvious Cassie had decorated it to suit her personality. It was warm and comforting, with richly textured rugs and pillows and Native American artwork covering the walls.
Cassie was a nurturer. She always had been, even as a girl just barely out of high school. She used to talk about her brothers raising her, but he had spent enough time with the family to know she took as much care of them as they did her. The Hartes looked out for each other.
The cabin reflected that nesting instinct of hers.
He smiled a little at an assortment of whimsical, ugly, carved trolls filling an entire shelf above her mother's rocking chair. She'd been collecting them since she was a girl and he recognized several new ones since he had last seen her collection.
He narrowed his gaze, looking closer. Where were the little kissing trolls he'd given her as a gift during their first month together? He couldn't see the piece here with the rest of the figurines.
He almost asked her what she'd done with it—why she hadn't set it out, too—but then clamped his teeth against the question. He had no right to ask her. Even if she burned it and flushed the ashes down the toilet, nobody would have blamed her.
"This is nice," he murmured instead.
"You must live in some grand mansion somewhere, now that you've hit the big time."
He thought of his cold, impersonal apartment in Denver, with its elegant furniture he was never quite comfortable using. Her little cabin held far more appeal.
"Not really," he answered. "It's a place to sleep and that's about it."
There was an awkward pause between them, and he thought about the little trailer home they'd planned to buy in Logan while she finished school. She had decorated it in her head a hundred times, talking endlessly about curtains and furniture and wallpaper. He had even gotten into the spirit of things, something that still amazed him. Neither of them had cared how cramped the little trailer would be. They were too excited about starting their lives together.
She finally broke the silence, her expression stony and cold. "Can we skip the small talk? I've had a long day and need to be up at five to start breakfast over at the lodge."
He pushed away his memories. If he wanted this to work, he had to focus on the present. "Okay. Let's get down to business. I don't want you to quit."
"What you want hasn't mattered to me for a long time, Zack."
He ignored her clipped tone. "From all the research my people did before we made the offer, we know that the food at the Lost Creek is one of the main draws of the ranch. In just a few months you've developed quite a reputation for delicious, healthy meals."
He paused, waiting for her to respond, but she remained stubbornly silent. After a moment he went on. "I want to build on that reputation. Use it as a selling point. That's been one of my goals for the ranch from the beginning."
She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Zack. You didn't really think I would stay here and work for you, did you?"
At his continued silence she gazed at him for a moment, then her jaw sagged. "You did! I can't believe this!"
He had hoped. Now he realized how completely foolish that had been. "You used to be the kind of woman who would never back down from a good fight."
Her mouth hardened again. "I used to be a lot of things. Ten years is a long time. I'm not the same person I was then. I've become much more choosy about the things I'm willing to fight for."
"And your job isn't one of them?"
"I won't lie to you. I like working for the Lost Creek. Jean is a sweetheart and gives me all the freedom I could ever want to create my own menus. But I would rather take a job cleaning truck-stop toilets than stay here and work for you."
He deserved everything she dished out and more. He knew it, but her words still stung.
"Is there anything I can say to change your mind?" She shook her head firmly and he chewed the inside of his cheek. He hadn't wanted to play this card but she was the one folding way too early in the game. "Fine," he said, his voice cool and detached. "I'll let Jean know in the morning that Maverick will have to pass on the ranch."
Her eyes widened, and that stubborn little jaw threatened to sag again. "You can't! You've already signed papers. Jean already has a check."
"Earnest money, that's all." He refused to let the shocked outrage in her voice deter him. "We had thirty days to reach a final decision on the sale. I'll just tell Jean I've changed my mind."
"You're willing to walk away from the whole deal just because I refuse to work for you?"
"I'm a businessman, Cassie, as unbelievable as you seem to find that. The food you provide is an important component of the ranch's appeal to its guests. Who knows what kind of an impact your resignation will have? I don't want to take that risk."
"You can't be serious."
"Do I look serious?" He brushed an imaginary piece of lint off the sleeve of his shirt while she continued to gape at him.
"This is blackmail," she hissed.
"Call it what you want." He smiled as if his whole world wasn't riding on this moment.
"You bastard." Her voice quivered with fury.
Her reaction cut deep, but he only smirked. "You think I've never been called that before?"
"I'll just bet you have."
"I never would have made it this far without a thick skin."
"Just like every other snake in the world, right?"
Her eyes were bright with anger, and hot color flared high on her cheekbones. He wanted to reach across the distance between them and kiss away her anger, wanted it so badly his bones ached with it. He clamped down hard on the need for some kind of contact—any kind—between them.
"Think what you want about me—"
"Oh, I do. You can bet I do."
He went on as if she hadn't interrupted him. "But as far as I'm concerned, you're part of the package deal." He paused. "However, I can understand your reluctance, given our unfortunate history."
She snorted. "Unfortunate, my eye. The day you ran out on me was the luckiest day of my life."
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I'm trying to be reasonable here, Cassie, but you're not making it very easy."
She remained stubbornly silent.
"As I was saying," he said, "I understand why you might want to find a new position. So I'm willing to make a deal with you."
"What kind of deal?" Suspicion coated her voice like a thin sheet of ice on a puddle.
"You stay the thirty days until the sale is finalized, and Maverick won't back out. In the meantime you can hire someone as your replacement, someone who can learn your menus and build on your success."
"And what do I get in return, besides the oh-so-appealing pleasure of your company?"
The Boy Scouts probably would have laughed themselves silly if he'd ever tried to join up, but he certainly believed heartily in their motto about being prepared.
Through a little casual conversation with Jean during the negotiations for the guest ranch, his lawyer had learned Cassie's job at the ranch was always considered temporary between the two women, that she was saving for a down payment on the diner in town.
Why she didn't use some of the vast Diamond Harte resources was beyond him, but in this case her typical dogged determination worked to his advantage.
"Stick it out for thirty days, and I'll give you a bonus of five thousand dollars."
Only the slightest flicker in her gaze betrayed that she had even heard him. "I don't want your money."
He shrugged. "Then stay for Jean's sake. I'm sure I don't have to tell you it will probably be a long time before she'll see another offer as good as the one we've made."
Not just a long time. Never. Cassie drew in a breath, trying to gather the thoughts he seemed to scatter so easily. Maverick had offered far more than the appraised value for the ranch. And who
knew when Jean would even get another offer? The ranch had been on the market for a year already with little to show for it but a few nibbles.
He had her backed against the wall, and he damn well knew it. Would he be ruthless enough to make good on his threat to renege on the deal, even knowing he would hurt a sweet, feisty woman like Jean Martineau in the process?
Yes. She didn't doubt it for a second.
She wasn't stupid enough to buy his argument that the ranch's reputation would suffer without her. She was a good cook but there were plenty of others who could pick up right where she left off. No, he wanted her here for his own sinister reasons. She couldn't begin to guess what they might be. Just thinking about his motives made her stomach flip around like a trout on the end of a line.
On the other hand, Jean was her friend. She had been kind to her and given Cassie a chance to prove herself, when all she had for experience was ten years spent cooking for her family's cattle ranch.
How would she he able to live with herself if the deal fell through because of her?
Anyway, what did it matter who signed her paycheck? She probably wouldn't even see him during that thirty days. The president and CEO of Maverick Enterprises most likely didn't have a spare second to spend hanging around supervising a dude ranch in western Wyoming. He would probably be here for a few days and then crawl back under whatever rock he'd been hiding under.
The realization cheered her immensely. She could handle a few days. She was a strong and capable woman. Besides, he didn't mean anything to her anymore. Any feelings she might have had for him so long ago had shriveled up and blown away in the endless Wyoming wind.
"Ten thousand dollars," she said promptly. With that much, she'd have all she needed to make the down payment Murphy wanted.
"You really think you're worth that much?"
She refused to let him see her flinch at his words. "At least."
"Okay. Fine. Ten it is."
She had never expected him to agree. The very fact that he did left her as wary as a kitten in the middle of a dogfight. "One month, then. For Jean's sake."
CASSIDY HARTE AND THE COMEBACK KID Page 3
