Home on the Ranch: Oklahoma: Defending the Rancher's Daughter / The Rancher Bodyguard
* * *
Kate dried off and pulled the clean T-shirt on over her head, her mind curiously numb. The shirt hit her midthigh and swallowed up the shorts Zack had given her, making it appear she was clad only in the shirt. She wadded the ruined nightgown into a ball and threw it into the trash can next to the sink.
She found a comb in one of the vanity drawers and pulled it through her shoulder-length hair and it was only then that she realized how badly her hands trembled.
She set the comb aside and sat on the edge of the tub, her stomach rolling with nausea as the enormity of what had just happened struck her.
The stampede had scared her, but if she were perfectly honest with herself she had to admit that she’d entertained just a tiny bit of doubt about what, exactly, had spooked the herd.
She’d believed she’d heard an air horn or something like that just before the stampede, but there had been a little part of her that had acknowledged that it might have been nothing more than a strange clap of thunder.
There was no way she could make what just had happened a strange quirk of nature. Somebody had tried to kill her. Just as somebody had already killed her father. A chill raked up her spine, a chill she worried would never go away.
The idea that somebody had tied her into a burning bedroom terrified her. Who would do such a thing? Who could hate her enough to want her dead?
She rose to her feet. The cold grip of fear certainly wasn’t going to go away sitting here alone in Zack’s bathroom.
As she entered the living room and he stood from the sofa, it was obvious he’d done some cleaning up of his own. His face and torso were clean and his hair damp.
“You can sleep in my spare room and I’ll bunk here on the sofa for the night,” he said. His eyes slid down the length of her and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “The sooner you get some sleep, the better we can deal with all this in the morning.”
“I don’t even know where to start dealing with all this,” she replied. “But I’ll tell you one thing, nobody is going to force me to stay away from the ranch. I’m here tonight because it’s the smart thing to do, but tomorrow morning I intend to be back home where I belong.”
“We need to take things one at a time. First thing in the morning we’ll deal with the problem of making your place secure. Until that’s done, you aren’t staying there.”
There was a note of finality in his voice that made her want to kick and protest. She felt as if she controlled nothing at the moment and the feeling was frustrating.
“I’d like to tell you that I intend to stay at my place whether it’s secure or not. Emotionally I don’t like that I feel as if you’re making that decision for me, but intellectually, I know you’re right. I can’t stay there unless the damage to the wall in my room is repaired so nobody can just waltz into the house from outside.”
“Thank you for seeing things my way.”
She offered him a small smile. “I’m only seeing things your way because at the moment it’s the right way.”
“Let’s get some sleep,” he said. She followed him into a small bedroom and once again the icy hand of fear seemed to curl and squeeze around her heart. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but the bed is good and firm and you’ll be safe for the night.”
He started out of the room but stopped as she called his name. For just a moment she didn’t know what to say to him. She refused to tell him just how frightened she really was, didn’t want him to know the depth of the despair that gripped her at the moment.
“I know we’ve butted heads in the past, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad I’m not facing this all alone,” she finally said.
“Sleep with the door open,” he said, then turned and left the room.
Sleep with the door open? She’d like to sleep in his arms! Not because he was Zack, but rather because she felt so unsafe, so utterly alone.
Foolish woman, she thought as she pulled down the navy cord bedspread, then shut off the light in the room. Tomorrow when she got back to her place she’d get out her dad’s gun and strap it to her side. She didn’t need a man’s arms around her, especially Zack’s. All she needed was the comfort of a Smith & Wesson.
* * *
She’d expected to have problems falling asleep, but she awoke with the first stir of dawn lighting the sky. For a long moment she remained unmoving, playing and replaying the last two weeks of her life in her mind.
She’d thought the bottom had dropped out when her father had died. She’d believed nothing could get worse. She’d been wrong.
The night replayed in all its horror…the smoke, the flames and the moment when she’d felt sure death was a heartbeat away. If Zack hadn’t noticed the fire and hadn’t been able to break down her door, she wouldn’t be here now.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee filtered in through the open door of her room, letting her know that Zack was already up and around.
She got out of bed, finger-combed her hair and pulled on the shorts she’d kicked off before climbing beneath the sheets the night before. It took her only a moment to make the bed, then she left the room.
Zack sat at the small kitchen table, facing the direction of the living room. He raised a hand at the sight of her. She returned the gesture and beelined into the bathroom. She wished she had a toothbrush, a hairbrush, her own clothes. But she used her finger to brush her teeth, Zack’s comb to untangle her sleep-tousled hair, then left the bathroom in search of a cup of the coffee.
“Morning,” she said to Zack as she entered his small kitchen area and spied the coffeemaker on the countertop. She poured herself a cup, then joined him at the table.
Clad in a clean white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, he smelled of minty soap and shaving cream. He might look rested, but he still had a grim expression on his face.
“Did you get some sleep?” she asked.
“Some…enough,” he replied. “It’s going to be a long day.”
“I have a feeling it’s going to be the first of many long days,” she replied.
They sipped their coffee in silence, as if each mentally prepared themselves for what lie ahead. Kate’s thoughts were purely practical ones as she wondered how much work it would entail to fix the damage from the fire so she could stay at her house tonight.
First the dead cattle and broken fencing and now this, additional expenses she hadn’t planned. If these kinds of things continued, how long could she survive? She wasn’t made of money. She shoved these disturbing thoughts aside.
She refused to be displaced from her father’s home, from her own home. Her father would never want her to turn tail and run away from any conflict or danger. But he’d also want her to be smart.
“As soon as you’re finished with your coffee, we’ll head up to the main house and give that file to Dalton,” he said, breaking the silence. “I’ll call Jim Ramsey from there to check in. My sister should have a pair of shoes you can borrow until we get back to your place.”
She downed the last of her coffee and stood. “I’m ready when you are. I’m eager to get back to the ranch and get things going on fixing up the damage.”
He stood, as well. “Before we go anywhere I need to get you something else to wear.” The muscle that had ticked in his jaw the night before was back.
“What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?” Shorts and a T-shirt were not uncommon attire for her.
The muscle ticked faster. “The shorts are too short. It looks like you don’t have anything but legs beneath that shirt.” Before she could reply, he disappeared into his bedroom and returned with a pair of sweatpants. “Put these on, then we’ll go.”
Kate returned to the bedroom where she’d slept and took off the shorts and pulled on the sweatpants, her heart hammering rapidly, not in the rhythm of fear, but rather in the beat of something entirely different.
There had been just a moment as he’d handed her the pants that she’d seen something burning in his eyes, something she’d never expected to see from Zack West.
Desire.
She’d thought she’d seen it in the depths of his eyes last night just before he’d left her porch, but she’d dismissed it.
She’d assumed the crackling electricity between them had something to do with the negativity of their past relationship, but now she recognized what she’d been feeling for him was desire. And apparently he felt it, too.
She had little time to digest this novel idea. She had a sheriff to talk to, a house to rebuild and a killer to catch. Zack was obviously ready to get the day under way for he stood at the front door, jingling the keys in his hand.
They drove toward the main house. The West residence was a huge, rambling ranch that made Kate’s house look quaint. Of course, it had only been Kate and her father living at Bent Tree Ranch, while the West place had been home to Zack, his father, Smokey, Zack’s four brothers and his sister.
A stab of ancient resentment stirred inside her and she consciously tamped it down, knowing the worst thing she could do was allow it to take hold.
They pulled up and immediately the front door opened and Smokey Johnson and Red West stepped out onto the front porch. Red was a big man, with the same broad shoulders as his sons and an easy warmth that made people immediately trust him.
Smokey was shorter, with gray hair and bushy eyebrows pulled together in a perpetual frown. Kate wasn’t put off by the frown. She knew Smokey possessed a heart of gold beneath his gruff exterior.
Red embraced Kate in a quick hug, then looked at his son with open curiosity. “Awful early for a visit. Let’s head inside and you can tell me what’s going on.”
Minutes later they were seated at the kitchen table being served coffee by Smokey. Kate knew that years ago Smokey had worked as ranch manager for Red, but a fall from a horse had left him with a limp and a new job helping to raise Red’s kids.
Zack had just begun to fill them in on what was going on when Dalton entered the kitchen. Two years older than Zack’s thirty-one years, Dalton shared the West green eyes and dark hair, but his features were softer, less sculptured than Zack’s.
Dalton took the file folder Zack had carried in with him and agreed to get to work right away on the background checks, then Zack excused himself to go into the office to make a call to Sheriff Ramsey and get Katie a pair of shoes.
“Hell of a thing,” Red said when Zack had left the room. “We’re losing the good men and women of Cotter Creek right and left, first Joe Wainfield in that terrible tractor accident, then your father and now this… somebody trying to hurt you.”
“If anyone can figure out who’s behind this, it’s Zack,” Smokey said, his affection for Zack apparent in his gruff voice. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“Anything you need, Kate, anything we can do, you just let us know,” Red added. “We’re always here for Zack and we’re here for you, too.”
Her heart filled with a combination of gratitude tempered by a renewed flare of old resentment. The love and support Zack received from his family was evident on their faces, in their words, in the very air of the room.
So why hadn’t that been enough for him? Why had he felt the need to steal her father’s love and respect from her?
Chapter 7
By the time Katie and Zack returned to her ranch the sheriff and the fire chief were waiting for them.
“We’ve already questioned the ranch hands who are here,” Sheriff Ramsey said. “Unfortunately nobody saw or heard anything. It’s also going to be tough to check alibis. Most of the men will tell me they were in bed at the time the fire began.”
“There’s no question arson was involved,” Chief Buddy Norval said. “From the fire pattern it’s easy to see that the fire was set directly beneath the bedroom window.” He looked at Kate. “You were lucky, little lady, that your men saw the fire and came to the rescue.”
“There will be a full investigation,” Jim promised as he got into his patrol car. He pulled away from the ranch, the fire chief following behind him.
“Golly, that was a lot of help,” Katie said dryly.
Zack grimaced, knowing that the odds of them discovering the guilty party were negligible. Somebody had almost gotten away with murder the night before. It had only been a stroke of luck that had kept Katie alive.
In the early morning light the full extent of the damage was visible, although not as devastating as Zack had feared. The exterior plywood had burned away to reveal the 2x4s beneath, but at least they and the roof had been saved.
“Half a day’s work and we’ll have the plywood replaced,” Zack said as they stood side by side surveying the damage. “We’ll just board up the window for the time being. Let’s go inside and take a look at the bedroom.”
He followed behind her as they entered the house. She’d been unusually quiet since they’d left his place and he wondered what thoughts whirled around in her head.
She continued to surprise him with her composure, her calm in the midst of a storm. She had to be frightened, but she’d displayed little of that emotion.
He found himself wondering what life experiences in the past five years had transformed her from the out-of-control wild child into a reasonable, rational woman facing apparent danger with a calm, steely resolve.
“Looks like I won’t be sleeping in here anytime soon,” she said as they stepped into her bedroom. The walls were smoke-damaged and the floor and furnishings were wet from the fire-extinguishing water that had been sprayed through the broken window.
He watched as she walked to her closet and opened the door. The clothing inside appeared fine, but he knew each article would retain the smoky scent of the fire.
“Everything will have to be washed,” she said, as if she’d tapped into his thoughts. She grabbed several pairs of jeans from a shelf, a handful of shirts and two pairs of shoes.
“Need some help?” he asked.
“No, thanks, I’ll just take what I need for the next couple of days and get a load of laundry started.” Although her voice remained calm, her features radiated the first cracks in her facade. She appeared pale, a small wrinkle danced across her brow and her lips were compressed in a taut line.
He followed her from her bedroom into the laundry room just off the kitchen. He watched as she put the first load into the washer and started the machine, then she turned to him, her frown deepening.
“Are you going to follow me around like a shadow all day long?”
“Depends on where you go and what you intend to do,” he replied. “In case you’ve forgotten, somebody tried to kill you last night.”
Her lips thinned as she clenched her jaw for a moment. “I’m not likely to forget anytime soon.” She leaned back against the washing machine, her eyes holding a whisper of haunting.
Before he could reply, Jake’s voice called from the front door. “Kate?”
Zack stepped aside so she could leave the laundry room, then followed her to the front door. He stood back and watched as Jake took Kate’s hands in his.
“Are you all right? I was worried sick about you all night.” The handsome blond cowboy cast a quick glance at Zack, the brief eye contact managing to radiate a wealth of resentment.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, and didn’t seem in a hurry to reclaim her hands from his.
“The sheriff and Chief Norval said the fire was intentionally set. What’s going on?” Jake asked.
“I wish I knew,” Katie replied, and finally withdrew her hands from his.
Jake stepped closer to her and Zack felt every muscle in his body tense. He told himself that it was a protective response, that he wanted to make sure Jake did nothing to harm Katie.
“What can I do to help, Kate?” he asked. “I’m not talking about feeding cattle and cleaning horse stalls. I’m talking about you personally, what can I do to help you get through this?”
Zack wanted to tell him to step back from her and give her a chance to breathe. For crying out loud, the man stood so close to her he had to be stealing all the oxygen in her immediate area.
“What I need most from you and the other men is to keep the ranch running smoothly and help get the side of the house repaired before nightfall,” she said.
Zack could tell Jake didn’t like her words, would have preferred something more personal from her. Maybe he wanted to rub her feet or stroke her brow, he thought irritably.
“Of course.” He finally stepped back from her and Zack relaxed a bit.
“And tell Sonny I need to speak with him,” she added.
He nodded. “I’ll go find him right away.”
“Thanks, Jake.”
He flashed her a big grin, shot Zack another quick glance filled with simmering resentment, then left.
“That boy has got it bad for you,” Zack observed as she closed the front door.
She sighed and worried a hand through her long, shining hair. “Too bad romance is the very last thing on my mind. In fact, I haven’t had time for romance since I left college and came back here.”
“What about before then? In college?” He had no idea why he’d asked the questions. It had nothing to do with his job in finding her father’s murderer and keeping her alive. It fell under the heading of useless information he didn’t need to know.
“In college I had time for romance,” she answered succinctly, and offered no more details. “So, what’s the plan for the day?”
“If you’re going to stay inside and do laundry, then I’ll go outside and help the men with the house. But the rules are that nobody comes inside unless I’m in here, too. No exceptions.”
“That’s not a problem. I’m not in the mood for company this morning. In fact, if I thought about it real hard, I could probably work up a case of crankiness.”
“Maybe you need a nap,” he offered, although he was feeling a bit cranky himself. “Neither one of us got a good night’s sleep.”
A knock on the front door interrupted the conversation.
She opened it to Sonny, whose features showed the same worry Jake’s had worn. “I’m ashamed to say I slept through the excitement last night,” he said, a hangdog expression on his face.
Kate placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Sonny. All’s well that ends well. The men from the bunkhouse rose to the alarm and thankfully managed to put out the fire before I got cooked.”
“Hell of a thing,” Sonny said, and shook his head. “The sheriff and Chief Norval spoke to all the men about the fire,” he said. “I just want you to know that I can’t imagine one of my men being responsible for something like that.”
“I know. I don’t want to think that one of our men could be responsible,” Katie replied.
As the two spoke about what needed to be done for the day, Zack watched the old man carefully, knowing that from this moment on every single person in Katie’s life was a potential suspect.
Still, it was difficult to think of Sonny as a viable suspect. The man had worked for Gray for years, had been a trusted right-hand man to Katie’s father. That didn’t let him off the hook entirely, but as far as Zack was concerned, there were others of more interest.
He thought about Jake. It was obvious the man desperately wanted a relationship with Katie. Was it possible the handsome face hid a devious mind?
Was it possible he’d killed Gray to get closer to Katie? Then had set the fire and planned to be the hero? As Zack remembered the night’s events, Jake had been only a step behind him in getting through the front door and into Katie’s bedroom.
Was it possible Brett Cook, who had been fired and rehired by Gray more than once, harbored such a hatred for his boss that killing him hadn’t been enough? His hatred demanded more…the death of Gray’s daughter?
Zack had nothing but speculation and even he recognized that this kind of speculation was wild and that he was reaching for answers. The truth of the matter was, he didn’t have enough information on which to base any speculation.
When Sonny and Katie had concluded their conversation, Sonny left and Zack was once again alone with her. “I want you to lock the front door and don’t let anyone inside. I’ll work on the house and keep an eye on the men. Later this afternoon we’ll figure out where we go from here.”
He left her inside and went out to join the men. Besides the cowboys who had been his bunk mates for part of the night, there were others, as well.
Sonny introduced him to the five men who lived in town but worked the ranch each day. As Zack took stock of each of them he thought how much easier life would be if the homicidal tendencies in some men’s hearts shone visibly from their eyes. Unfortunately, killers rarely wore their mask of evil on the outside.
The work on the house went on through the morning. Zack worked beside the others, not talking but listening to the conversations swirling around him. Later he would make notes of his impressions of each of the men who worked for Katie.
Zack had worked as a professional bodyguard for the family business since the time he was twenty-one years old. He knew through experience that much of the personal protection business wasn’t just about muscle and guns, but rather crawling into the mind of a suspect and keeping logs and notes about those who might be potential suspects.
He welcomed the physical labor that made it difficult to think about Katie in that skimpy nightgown, Katie in his T-shirt, Katie in his arms. His sleep the night before had been almost nonexistent as he lay on the sofa with thoughts of Katie filling his head.
At noon Doc Edward’s lumbering van pulled up. The middle-aged veterinarian greeted all the men like old friends.
“Zack, I heard through the grapevine that you’d taken up ranch work,” he said.
Zack nodded. “Got tired of the family business and all the traveling I was having to do for that job.” He was aware of Jake standing nearby, eavesdropping on the conversation. “I got a hankering for the smell of hay and the feel of a few calluses on my palms.”
Mark Edwards smiled. “Nothing like a little physical labor and ranch life to set a man’s world right.” He looked at the new plywood on the side of the house. “What’s all this?”
“Had a little trouble last night. Seems we’ve got a firebug in the area.”
Edwards frowned. “Kate okay?”
“She’s fine,” he replied.
A small smile curved the vet’s lips. “I’ll bet she’s madder than a wet hen. Kate’s never been one to let somebody step on her toes without stepping back. I know that from the town council meetings.”
Anything else he might have said was cut short by Sonny, who motioned toward him. “Well, I’d better get to work. It will take most of the afternoon to tag the cattle.”
As Zack got back to work with the rest of the men, Mark’s words played and replayed in his head. Obviously the temper he remembered Katie possessing was still there, she just hadn’t displayed it to him yet. But apparently she’d displayed it to others.
Now all he had to figure out was if Gray had died because he had made somebody mad at him or if perhaps he’d died because Katie had made somebody mad as hell at her.
* * *
Kate sat at the kitchen table, listening to the washing machine agitate, her thoughts doing the same thing. She wanted to be outside, watching the cattle being tagged, overseeing the day’s activities and interacting with the men.
But she knew she’d be too stupid to live if she just arbitrarily decided to go about her business as usual knowing that somebody had tried to kill her the night before.
So she had to be content following Zack’s rules, remaining in the house alone while life went on as usual around her.
She spent the morning doing loads of laundry. While the washing machine washed and the dryer dried, she sat at the kitchen table making a list of things she wanted to do when life returned to normal.
Mostly it was a list of chores, things that had needed to be done for the past several years but had never been accomplished. The spare bedroom needed to be repainted, the root cellar on the side of the house needed to be cleaned out and she needed to pack up her father’s clothing and donate it to one of the charities in town.