Deceived (Unlikely Heroes Book 3)

by Leslie Georgeson

  Meg’s heart went out to the girl. Poor, lonely thing. Meg could relate. She’d been alone and misunderstood nearly her entire life. She dismounted and came around to stand next to Kristen. Meg touched the girl’s arm. “What happened to your mother?”

  Kristen hitched in a breath and turned back to her, wiping at the mascara-streaked tear on her cheek.

  “She died a few months ago, some kind of complication from surgery on her stomach. She had this rare stomach disease and was always sick. Anyway, after she died, they sent me to live with my dad, who claims he didn’t even know about me. Why would my mom keep me a secret from him?”

  Meg didn’t have an answer for her. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

  So the sheriff had just discovered he had a daughter. Meg was not surprised that he’d taken the girl in like a responsible person would. He seemed like the responsible type.

  “So you don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope. It’s just me.”

  “What about a stepmom?”

  Kristen cringed. “God no. Do you think I’d stay with him if he had a naggy wife? He doesn’t even have a girlfriend, though you wouldn’t believe it if you saw the way the women in town flirt with him. It’s disgusting. They all think he’s Mr. Stud.” She let out a snort. “Get real. He’s not interested in any of them, thank God. All he does is work. Fortunately, most of the time he’s gone, but whenever he’s home, he drives me crazy.”

  Meg chuckled. “Dads can be that way. So you lived in Spokane with your mom? I used to live there too. It’s a pretty big city compared to here. It’s a bit of a shocker how quiet and peaceful it is out here, isn’t it?”

  The girl snorted. “I wouldn’t call it peaceful. It’s too quiet, so quiet I can hear my ears ring. I miss the noise of the city, cars, people laughing, kids playing, music thumping. There’s nothing here but trees and deer.”

  “It definitely takes some getting used to.”

  They eyed each other for a moment.

  “What’s his name?” Kristen asked, motioning to the horse.

  “Prince.”

  Kristen studied the gelding. “He looks like a prince. All elegant and regal.”

  Meg quirked a brow. Elegant and regal? What teenager talked like that?

  As if she’d read Meg’s mind, Kristen said, “I read a lot.” She blushed. “I like words.”

  Meg smiled. “Me too.”

  They exchanged a long glance. Kristen motioned to the horse again. “What kind is he?”

  “Arabian.”

  Kristen’s face lit up. “I’ve read about Arabians. They’re supposed to be one of the oldest and purest breeds of horse. They’re so pretty. When I was a little girl, I used to dream about having my own.”

  Meg’s connection with Kristen deepened, their bond instantly growing. This girl was her, fifteen years ago.

  “Me too.”

  Grinning, Kristen glanced back at her. “Can I ride him?”

  “Sure.” Meg held the horse’s reins and motioned Kristen closer to the animal. “Put your foot in the stirrup and I’ll boost you up.”

  Kristen did as Meg instructed and swung up into the saddle. Her eyes widened. She clutched the saddle horn. “Wow! It’s scary up here.”

  Meg chuckled. “It takes a little getting used to a first. I have another horse too. Anytime you want to go for a ride, just come on over. I could use a riding buddy.”

  “I’d like that.” Kristen smiled down at her. Meg led the gelding forward while Kristen clutched the saddle horn and glanced around, wide eyed. Her lips curved into a smile that touched a place deep in Meg’s heart. She empathized with the girl. If she could give Kristen a little bit of happiness, she’d gladly take her for a horseback ride.

  “So, what’s your dad like?” Meg asked after a few minutes, her curiosity getting the best of her. She glanced back at Kristen as she led the horse around the forest trails.

  Kristen shrugged. “Most the time he’s okay, I guess. But he’s always wanting to uphold the frickin’ law, do the right thing, set a good example. He preaches too much.”

  Meg hid a smile. Of course. He was the sheriff. She would expect nothing less from the man. “Strict, is he?” The fact that he had a daughter and seemed to be trying hard to take care of her made him a little more likeable in Meg’s opinion.

  The teen gave an unladylike snort. “That’s an understatement. He expects me to act like a lady, have proper manners, dress appropriately, don’t swear, don’t do drugs, blah, blah, blah...But the more he preaches, the more I rebel. That’s why I dress this way. I like to give him a hard time. I like to piss him off.”

  “I see,” Meg said, hiding a smile. “And does it work?”

  The girl’s blue eyes sparkled. “God, does it ever! He tolerates it, but I know he’s not happy.”

  Meg glanced back at the girl again. “If you don’t mind my saying, you’re really pretty and you don’t need all that makeup.” Meg hoped she wouldn’t offend the girl. “You’ve been blessed with a natural beauty most of us only dream about.”

  Kristin’s cheeks stained bright red. “Yeah, well, I like makeup. And you shouldn’t be talking. You’re gorgeous, even with that dye job. What’s your natural hair color?”

  Meg halted the horse and turned to face Kristen. “What’s yours?”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, then they both burst into laughter.

  “Blonde,” Meg said at the same time that Kristen said, “Dark brown.”

  They giggled some more, then grew silent.

  Kristen hesitated, then asked, “Why do you carry a gun?”

  Meg glanced down at the .45 holstered to her hip. She now wore it whenever she left the house. She would not be taken off guard again. If another of Larry’s goons showed up, she’d be ready. “For protection. You never know what, or who, you might encounter out here.”

  The teen nodded. “My dad carries a gun like that too, but he said he’s never had to shoot anybody yet. Have you ever shot anyone?”

  “Not yet,” Meg said, but she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot someone if she had to.

  Kristin grinned. “Not yet? What’s that mean? You planning on shooting someone someday?”

  “Only if I have to. It would be in self-defense.”

  “Oh, of course. I can tell you’re not a killer, but I wouldn’t want to piss you off, not if you know how to use that thing.”

  Meg chuckled. She turned away and began leading the horse through the trees again.

  “Why does my dad keep going over to your house?”

  Meg’s step faltered. How did she answer that?

  She lifted her head in time to see something move through the trees in front of her. Meg halted, her eyes growing wide, as a man strode toward them.

  The breath whooshed from her lungs when she recognized the sheriff. His slate-gray gaze was steady on her as he approached. He still wore that black Marines shirt that emphasized his muscular physique and reminded her of his toughness. He wasn’t a man to mess with. Yet she’d already messed with him. How would he react when he discovered she’d been deceiving him about more than just her name?

  Her heart skipped a beat. He’d probably be pissed. She drew in a nervous breath. She would just have to make sure he never found out the truth.

  “Great,” Kristen muttered from atop the horse. “Here comes my dad.”

  Meg fought the urge to turn and flee. She stood her ground when the sheriff reached them. He drew to a stop before her. He glanced up at Kristen, then back down at Meg, his gaze filled with disapproval. Meg wanted to wipe that disapproving look off the man’s arrogant face. Did he think he was better than her?

  Zach eyed the gun holstered at her hip. Meg’s heart did a somersault in her chest when she realized she’d thought of him as “Zach” and not “the sheriff.”

  Zach.

  Her cheeks heated. Acknowledging him as a man, and not just a sheriff, was a big deal to her. It meant he was human, lik
e her, capable of feeling, like her. Capable of wanting, like her. Though she hated to admit it, he made her highly aware of her femininity for the first time in her life. He made her feel small and weak and helpless. And so utterly female.

  Why did he have this effect on her? Why did her mind turn to mush whenever he was around? What was it about the man that she couldn’t seem to get him out of her head?

  Meg swallowed hard. She forced herself to meet his gaze. She might be small, but she wasn’t weak and helpless and she resented that he made her feel that way.

  Then she remembered the disapproving look he’d sent her after noticing her gun.

  She lifted her chin. She was not handing over her weapon, damn him. She had a right to bear arms.

  “I’d rather you not have a weapon around my daughter.” He eyed her sternly. “Is that thing loaded?”

  Meg held his stare. “Of course.”

  He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Oh, come on, Dad, don’t be such a hypocrite!” Kristen glared down at him from atop the horse. “You have a loaded weapon all the time and I’ve never been hurt.”

  He turned that stern gaze on his daughter. “Carrying a weapon is part of my job. Kim is a civilian. I don’t even know if she knows proper gun safety.”

  The man’s comment irritated Meg. But she understood his concern. Quite frankly, she’d never fired the gun before. What was she teaching Kristen by carrying a loaded weapon? Meg wanted to set a good example for Kristen. Though it hurt to admit defeat to Zach, even for a moment, she would do this for Kristen. Meg hesitated, then reluctantly she unclipped the holster from her belt and held the gun, holster and all, out to him.

  “Just until Kristen is done riding,” she said. “Then I want it back.”

  Surprise flickered across his face, followed immediately by…approval. He obviously hadn’t expected her to hand over her gun so easily. He took the gun from her, slipped it out of the holster. He popped the clip free, saw that it was loaded. He lifted his gaze to hers again.

  “Do you know how to use this thing?”

  Meg’s temper spiked. Damn him. Would he ever think of her as anything but a stupid criminal? He didn’t need to know she’d never used the gun yet. “Of course I do! Do I look like an idiot?”

  His gaze narrowed on her. He glanced up at Kristen.

  “Just leave her alone!” Kristen shouted, startling Meg. “She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Why do you always have to ruin everything? We can’t all be perfect like you!”

  Meg almost felt sorry for Zach when color crept up his neck and into his face. Almost. The man needed to be knocked down a peg or two from his high and mighty pedestal. It seemed his spirited, misunderstood daughter just might be the one to do it. Meg barely managed to hold back a grin. Go Kristen!

  Zach cleared his throat. He stared up at his daughter. “I’ll just hold onto the gun until you’re done riding.”

  He glanced at Meg, his cheeks still flushed. “Okay with you?”

  She gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

  He hesitated a moment, clearly uncomfortable.

  Then he turned and headed back into the trees toward his house.

  * * *

  Zach hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop, but he’d overheard “Kim” and Kristen talking and had snuck closer to investigate. He’d heard a good portion of their conversation from where he stood behind a tree. Though he was reluctant to admit it, Kim was good for his daughter. The two had connected almost instantly. Kristen had never been as comfortable or relaxed around him as she was with Kim. Though he knew hardly anything about Kim, he sensed she wouldn’t harm his daughter. She seemed to genuinely like the girl, oddities and all.

  Zach paused a few feet away and turned back to watch them for a moment. Kim laughed at something Kristen said, throwing her head back, her eyes shining with delight. It struck him like a swift punch to the gut how beautiful she was. His heart stuttered in his chest. His breath caught. Damn. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had affected him this way. That photo of her in the pink bikini flashed through his mind, her hot little body taunting him, teasing him...

  Shit.

  She glanced up, her gaze slamming into his. Her cheeks reddened. Her smile disappeared, turning into a frown. She lowered her gaze and turned away.

  She didn’t like him. That much was obvious. He’d never cared before whether someone liked him or not. But for some reason, he wanted her to like him. And he didn’t want to consider why.

  He had so many questions he wanted to ask her, but the woman was good at giving evasive answers. He wasn’t sure how much of what she had told him so far had been the truth and how much had been lies. She was a mystery he intended to solve. He was a good detective. He’d find out the truth eventually.

  In fact, now that he had her gun, he could use it as leverage. He wouldn’t return it to her until she told him who she really was.

  Yeah, he liked that idea. Whether she liked it or not, she would talk to him.

  Or she wouldn’t get her gun back.

  He whistled softly as he strode toward his house. He knew holding onto her gun would infuriate her, but if he was going to trust her with his daughter, he wanted to be sure Kristen wasn’t in any kind of danger. He wanted to be certain Kristen would be safe. He needed to know who Kim really was.

  Zach continued home, comforted by the knowledge that his daughter now had a friend and confidante, feeling only a little hurt that it wasn’t him. Kristen was at the age where she needed a trustworthy female companion. He hoped in his heart that she’d found that in his neighbor.

  He just hoped to God he wasn’t making a mistake by trusting Kim with his daughter.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “What do you mean I can’t have it back?” Meg glared up at Zach. “It’s my gun, I bought it with my own money.”

  She lunged for the weapon that Zach held just out of her reach, but he was too tall and she couldn’t jump high enough.

  “Damn you, I have to have it back! It’s my only protection!”

  “I said you could have it back when you proved to me that you knew how to handle it.” He lowered his voice. “And when you tell me the truth about who you really are.”

  Kristen, appearing more subdued than usual, stood aside and watched the exchange without a sound. Meg had just given the girl a ride home on Prince. The gelding was now grazing on Zach’s front lawn, oblivious to Meg’s predicament.

  When she’d asked Zach for the gun back, he’d told her no.

  Her temper flared. “God, you are the most arrogant, egotistical, irritating...”

  “Asshole?” Kristen piped up, grinning at the shocked look her father sent her.

  “Watch your mouth, young lady!”

  The teen turned away and marched toward the house. “I hope she claws your eyes out,” she called when she reached the porch. She slammed the door behind her, leaving Meg alone on the front lawn with her father.

  Disappointed that the girl hadn’t stayed to defend her, Meg took a deep breath to calm herself, then made another lunge for the gun.

  Zach made a tsk-tsking sound, then passed the gun into his other hand and stepped back.

  “I don’t find this amusing! Give me back my gun!”

  “If you would just calm down for a second, I’ll be happy to give it back. But first, I want to give you a few lessons in firearm management.”

  “Jerk, jerk, jerk!” Her arm twitched. Once. Twice. She glared up at him.

  “I don’t need any lessons. All I have to do is point and shoot.”

  “Have you ever fired this gun before?”

  Heat flooded into her cheeks. “Well, no. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

  Zach shook his head. “The only thing more dangerous than a woman with a gun, is a woman with a gun who doesn’t know how to use it. Why do you have such a big gun anyway? You don’t need a weapon of this size. It’s too much for your small hands. I seriously doubt you could hand
le it.”

  She fired her most hate-filled stare at him, but he merely raised a brow.

  “Size doesn’t matter,” she snarled, then blushed furiously when the double meaning hit her. Damn him! “I already said I know how to use it,” she choked out, her face on fire.

  Laughter filled his eyes, making them sparkle with a devilish gleam. He chuckled softly. “Damn, you’re something else, you know that?” Then he grew serious. “If you’ve never fired it before, how can you say you know how?”

  Meg glared. “When I bought it, the salesman showed me.”

  Zach rolled his eyes. “So watching him made you an expert?”

  The man was infuriating. Meg turned on her heel and stomped away. To hell with him. She’d just go buy another gun. An even bigger one this time.

  “Where you going?” Zach called. “Don’t you want your gun?”

  “You keep it,” she shouted without turning around. “I’ll just go buy another one.”

  He moved so fast, she barely had time to blink before he darted in front of her, blocking her path.

  Meg gasped, unable to stop in time. She slammed into him, the breath whooshing from her lungs. Clutching her injured arm against her chest, she reared back, but not before his arm snaked out, snagging her waist, and hauling her against his side. The white lettering on his shirt was mere inches from her face, taunting her with his strength, “Pain is weakness leaving the body.”

  Was the man hard as stone? Could he be hurt? She squirmed against him, but his arm tightened around her.

  “God, you’re a temperamental woman,” he muttered, glaring down at her. “Why do you always have to fight with me?”

  Meg couldn’t seem to catch her breath when he had her pressed close to his big, hard body. She pushed against him with her good arm, to no avail.

  “Let me go,” she hissed between her teeth. “I’m only fighting with you because you’re manhandling me.”

  He released her abruptly and she stumbled backward. She glared up at him.

  He stared back.

  He shook his head. “I’ll let you have your gun back, but before I let you leave with it, you’re going to fire several rounds. That way I can be sure you really know how to use it. And that you can handle it on your own. This isn’t a toy.”