Mack snickered. “Who tried the hit on me at the cabin?”
“That was Marty, too. He’s rusty, I guess.”
“You two are pathetic.” He said to Nash, then turned to Kate. "Did you get it?"
She turned and retrieved the cell phone from behind her back. "Got it!"
Kate played it back, and Pete's face showed his angst when he heard his own voice.
Head down and running, Pete lunged at Mack, but Mack side stepped and Nash tripped and fell, gulping dirt, “What happened Pete? Why do you hate me? I want to know.”
“I always envied you, Mack. All I ever wanted to do was to be an auto mechanic and marry Darlene. But my father pushed me to join his law firm. When you passed on the scholarship, it sealed my fate. Dar married someone else, and then my father pushed me into running for judge, and I freakin’ won.”
“Gee, you’re breakin’ my heart,” Mack looked away, disgusted.
“But you went against your father and did what you wanted. I never did. And I’m stuck in a miserable job I hate.”
Mack clapped his hands. “And won’t Daddy Nash be proud of you now?”
The woods suddenly came alive with sirens and lights flashing. Mack looked at Kate in surprise and amazement.
"It's the cavalry to the rescue." Kate shrugged. "The birthday party must be over."
“You are totally wonderful!” He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her and swung her around. “I’m cleared, and I owe it all to you.” He owed Kate his freedom, his life.
She chuckled. “You’re welcome.”
He stopped twirling her, and let her slide down the length of his body. Cupping her face in his hands, he said. “I love you, Kate. I’ve always loved you.”
There they were. The words that he’d been wanting to say since he found her crying beside Rose Lake.
“I’ve always loved you, too, John.” There were tears in her eyes, and he wiped them away with his thumbs.
They kissed and he knew that he’d be happy with her forever.
“Let’s take out the trash, Kate.”
#
After Nash and Crowley both gave full confessions to the New York State Troopers, the first thing Mack did when his prisoners were locked in the small cell at the Reedville Sheriff's Office was to ask to use the phone. He called Tom Murray and found that he had been moved from intensive care to one of the floors. Mack breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's over, partner," Mack said, holding on to Kate’s hand. "We got 'em. Kate and I got 'em. Who? It was none other than the newly promoted Chief Crowley and the less than Honorable Peter Nash."
His next call was to the head of the regional office of the FBI and a Supreme Court Judge to start the ball rolling to get Plato Corlett out of jail.
EPILOGUE
It was a wild couple of days–paperwork, reporters, affidavits, interviews, more paperwork.
Kate was just as busy. The Acting County Court Judge and the City Court Judge had released a total of six people to “Your Home Is Your Jail”.
He hardly had time to see her.
Checking his watch, Mack saw that it was almost time to meet Kate.
As he slipped into his rental car, he thought of the invitation he had sent her by special courier:
"OPEN HOUSE. 314 LAKESHORE ROAD, ROSE LAKE. ONE O'CLOCK TODAY. PLEASE BE PROMPT. REFRESHMENTS. PRIZES."
As planned, he got there before Kate and opened the doors of the house to let in the summer breeze. It was a beautiful day. A day he'd remember the rest of his life, sink or swim.
Standing in the doorway, he waited for Kate to drive up. Everything was ready. The champagne was chilling, the roses were in water, and the ring was in his pocket.
He waved to her as she pulled into the driveway.
Getting out of her car, she paused. "Mack, what are you doing here?"
"I got an invitation for an open house. And you?"
"I received one, too. Strange, isn't it?"
He held out his hand to her, and she slipped hers into his. "Well, then let's check it out."
Just before she climbed the stairs to where he was standing, she stopped. "You know, this is just like my dream. I walk up to this house and you are standing in the door.”
"Welcome, Kate."
He kissed her on the steps. He never wanted to let her go. This was where she belonged. This is what made the yellow Victorian complete.
But he did let her go, and she entered with mouth agape. "This is just how I pictured it. It's perfect. It's beautiful." She just about ran from room-to-room. "Look at the view! Mack, did you see the size of the kitchen? Ooh, a butler's pantry! I want to see the turrets. It's absolutely perfect. Just perfect." She looked around. "Where's the real estate person?"
"There isn't one."
"Well, isn't it for sale? This is an open house right?"
"No. It's not for sale."
She looked like she was ready to crumble.
Mack smiled. "It's my house."
"Yeah, right. Yours."
"I'm the JFM Rooster Company. John Francis Mackowitz. The Roosters was the name of our high school football team, remember?"
#
Kate had a hard time believing all this. She took a chair at the magnificent oak dining room table so she wouldn't fall over. "You never said a word."
"The time wasn't right. Besides, I wanted to surprise you."
"You sure did."
"The house on Pine was just a decoy. I didn't want anyone knowing where I really live. This is really my house. I set it up under a phony company. You see, I've loved this house forever, too."
She looked around at the magazine-perfect decor. She couldn't have done any better. "You have good taste."
"Yes, I do have good taste. That's why I love you and I'm asking you to marry me, Kate." He slipped a beautiful antique ring on her finger. A challenging feat, since her hand was shaking, and so were his.
"This was my Aunt Bert's ring. She was very special to me. I'd like you to wear it, unless you'd rather have a new one. This was her house. I bought it from her when she moved to Florida."
She raised an eyebrow. "You were able to afford two houses? Now I'm ready to believe you were selling drugs after all."
"I got the family discount for this one." Mack grinned. "Aunt Bert is pretty wealthy, and she wanted to keep the house in the family, so she offered it to me at a deal I couldn't refuse. I jumped at it."
Tears rushed to her eyes. "I love the house. I love Aunt Bert already, and I'd be honored to wear her ring." She kissed him.
"Then you'll marry me?"
"Of course I'll marry you. I love you." They kissed, but Kate broke it off in mid-pucker. "Let me get this straight. If I marry you, I get this house, too?"
"Yes. I figure I'd throw in the house to make sure you'd accept."
"Good thinking." She chuckled. "So you didn't think that I'd marry you just because I loved you."
"Maybe you would have. I'm pretty irresistible, you know." He winked. "But I wanted to up the odds since you were pretty mad at me when I split that morning."
"Yes, I was."
“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I didn’t want you hurt.” He looked deep into her eyes and saw love shining there–shining for him. "You know, Kate. We'd make a pretty good team. What do you think about having me as a partner with you in Your Home is Your Jail? You do the computer work, and I'll do the surveillance and bounty hunting."
"Nope. Equal partners. You have to learn the computer work, too."
He made a face, and Kate laughed.
"I'll throw in some shooting lessons," she said, as Mack hugged her close to him, his hands traveling up and down her back.
"You know, I just might take you up on that. You're one heck of a shot."
Kate ran her fingers through his hair. "But what about the sheriff's department?"
"They asked me to be Captain, but I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. Anyway, I'm going to take a leave of absence for a whil
e–an extended honeymoon." He kissed the palm of her hand. "I told them to give the job to Tom Murray. He's more the desk jockey. I still like the streets."
Arm in arm, they both watched the sun sparkle on Rose Lake. "You know, you'll never be sure if I married you just for this house, or not," Kate said.
"I'm sure. I trust you. I trust you even though I've never trusted another person in my life."
Coming from John Francis Mackowitz, those were powerful words indeed.
As Mack kissed her and the years dissolved behind them, Kate closed her eyes and pictured Mack in his Roosters football uniform. Kate realized that deep inside, she'd known that someday she and Mack would marry. It was just a matter of time.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself being studied by her future husband. The man that could drive her crazy. The man who'd protect her with his own life. The man who looked magnificent in a shower.
Speaking of which...
"How many showers in this house, John?" Kate asked.
Mack threw back his head and laughed. Then smiling, he traced her cheek with his finger. "Three. Four, if you count the one outside."
"Don't you think we should try them out, one-by-one?"
With eyes twinkling, he took her hand and led her up an oak staircase.
She was home.
About The Author
Chris Wenger has worked in the criminal justice field for more years than she cares to remember. She has a dual master's degree in Probation and Parole Studies and Sociology from Fordham University, but the knowledge gained from such studies certainly has not prepared her for what she loves to do the most - write romance!
Her first book, The Lady and the Cowboy, a western historical, was written for beginning adult readers and was sold to Laubach Literacy. In 1998, it was chosen by the Publishers Liaison Committee of the Public Library Association's Adult Lifelong Learning Section as one of the "Top Titles for Adult New Readers."
One of the biggest thrills of her life was receiving "the call" from Susan Litman at Silhouette Special Edition in January of 2004 that they wanted to publish The Cowboy Way. Yeee-haw!!
The Cowboy Way was released in January 2005.
A native Central New Yorker, she enjoys watching professional bull riding and rodeo with her favorite cowboy, her husband, Jim.
Connect with Christine
For more information about Christine Wenger visit one of her pages online.
Webpage: http://www.christinewenger.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ChristineWengerAuthor
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ChristineWenger
SARATOGA SUNRISE
Saratoga Springs, New York
July 22, 1894
Sara Rose Peterson stepped onto the railroad platform in Saratoga Springs and into pandemonium.
"United States Hotel here!"
"This way for the Grand Union!"
"Clarendon!"
"Adelphi, please!"
Gingerly, Sara took another step. Her injured leg was achy, but thankfully, it was cooperating today. Taking a few more steps, she smiled, happy that she didn't fall on her face and cause undue attention to herself.
Looking around, she allowed the sights to delight and welcome her. She loved arriving at the Springs and being in the middle of the chaos. Her New York City life was usually quiet and lonely and all this excitement made her feel alive and energetic.
Porters sang out the names of the grand hotels that were embroidered on their hats.
"Carriage to the Windsor!"
"Congress Hall here!"
"Pavilion!"
"Carriage to the Columbian!"
Sara smiled as the bell in the cupola of the turreted brick station clanged a noisy welcome, adding to the bedlam. Looking around, she saw plainly dressed townsfolk and elaborately dressed visitors alike craning their necks to get a glimpse of the stylish ladies who'd arrived on the afternoon train and the wealthy and powerful men who were escorting them.
Heavy hogshead trunks strapped with steel bands, hatboxes,
and wooden crates in various sizes were being unloaded from the train and stacked in piles under the signs of the various hotels.
Servants clad in colorful livery glowed with importance as they kept a watchful eye over a certain stack of trunks or gave instructions directing the porters to take them to a waiting carriage. Horses whinnied, and the smell of manure mixed with the steam of the train.
Nothing has changed here at The Springs. Except me.
Sara sighed and looked around for her father, then spotted him by a rail car giving orders as his racehorses were being unloaded. Weaving and dodging through the crowd, trying to hide her limp from critical eyes, she slowly walked toward him.
After the long journey, she knew she was limping more than usual. She dismissed the pain as she always did and focused instead on the beautiful thoroughbred being led from the train car down the wooden ramp to the platform.
A man with a long white beard and a perfectly bald head pointed and said, "That must be Seawind. He's a fine animal. He'll win the Travers Stakes by a long shot. My money's on him."
Sara straightened her back proudly. Seawind was the fastest horse she had ever ridden, and by far the fastest horse her father had ever acquired. Seawind would win the Travers for sure, and when he did, all her dreams would come true.
"Ladies and gentlemen, move away, please," ordered a deep, commanding voice. "Seawind is getting nervous."
Sara stopped walking to look at the man who was speaking about her horse. Just as she was approaching the ramp, he looked down at her with a scowl.
"Miss, please move away. I don't want anyone to get hurt."
Sara still didn't recognize the tall, handsome man with the neatly-trimmed beard and moustache who was holding her horse's lead rope, but he continued to shout and gesture for everyone to move away. Walking next to him was Toady Evans who was both handler and jockey for her father's stables. Sara wondered why Toady wasn't leading the horse and giving orders.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to please move away. Seawind is getting agitated from all the attention," the man yelled, handing the reins to Toady. His twinkling eyes contradicted the stern tone of his voice.
Toady tried to control the horse, but Seawind still fussed. His head bobbed, his eyes were wide in fright and he walked sideways. Seawind was going to fall off the narrow ramp! Sara knew she could calm the horse, if she could only get through the crowd.
"Excuse me, please." Forcing her tired leg to move, Sara
pushed her way closer to Seawind. "Please, let me by. Please."
"Toady, hold him still! Get him down the ramp!" the handler commanded to the jockey. Then he looked down at her. "Miss, I told you to get out of the way. The horse is agitated."
She ignored his instructions. Seawind was her horse and she could control him. As she reached for his bridle to hold his head steady, the unthinkable happened. Her leg gave way and she started to fall.
Sara let out an involuntary shriek of dismay as Seawind reared up. She could see the bottom of the stallion's front hooves as he reared. She winced, preparing herself for the inevitable pain, just as she had on that icy day in January – the day she lost her mother...forever.
Strong arms reached out to steady her, then whisked her away from the frightened horse.
"Are you all right?"
She gazed into the blue eyes of the handler. "Y-Y-Yes." Sara tried to calm her thundering heart. She couldn't stay upright; her leg was too fatigued and she thought she was going to faint. She swayed.
He easily scooped her up and cradled her in his arms as if she didn't weigh a pound.
"Please, put me down!" Sara pleaded. "Seawind's frightened and I can help calm him."
"Toady!" the man turned and yelled, "Put a blindfold over Seawind's eyes, and get him out of here. Quick! Get him out of this crowd."
"No...let me...help Seawind," she begged. "He trusts me."
The gallant gentleman who held her smelled of leather, and horses and of a warm July day. The slight breeze tossed his hair and she noticed that his mustache and beard contained glints of red from the shining sun. He was even more handsome close up.
He didn't seem to hear what she had said. Instead he looked at the scene before him. Then he glared down at her, his blue eyes burning like the hottest part of a flame.
"What did you think you were doing? I told you to get out of the way."
"I was going to help," she whispered.
"You can't be serious."
"I am most definitely serious," she said quietly. "Now please put me down. I wish to get to Seawind."
"The horse is fine now. Toady got him out of here."
Sara closed her eyes and struggled to think. Her emotions were all jumbled. While thankful for her narrow escape from injury, she was still worried about Seawind. All her hopes and dreams were centered on the beautiful thoroughbred. And being in such close proximity to this strong, rugged man confused her even more. When she opened her eyes, she was mortified to see the eyes of the crowd upon her. "I think you can put me down now Mr.–"
"Summers...Um. . . Jack Summers."
"Mister Summers, are you going to carry me all the way to
the United States Hotel?"
"No. Although I could. You weigh no more than a newborn colt." He dipped his arms to set her on her feet.
Still unsteady, she hobbled toward a bench under a nearby elm tree.
Jack rushed to her side and took her hand. "You're hurt...you’re limping! You need a doctor." He helped her to sit down.
She gazed into his eyes, now the blue of Lake Saratoga on a sunny August day. They showed earnest concern for her plight. Stunned at the direction of her thoughts, she pushed them away. "Mr. Summers, there is nothing a doctor can do for me."
"But you're hurt!"
"I'm fine, really. It was just a tiring journey."
Stuck On You Page 16
