Too Hot To Trot (#3, Cowboy Way) (23 page)

“I’m glad you found me too,” she whispered, and Zack dipped his head for another pass over her lips.  When he tried to deepen the kiss, put his hands at her waist to pull her closer, Heather put her hand on his chest and pushed back.

“Don’t get all mushy on me now, cowboy.  We might have made a turn, but we still have a long way to go before this is over.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it, sweet thing,” he replied with a cocky grin as he dropped his arm over her shoulders.  “We’re going to fast track this and get back home.”

Zack had to get back home, so he sure hoped his words were true.  He stepped in front of Heather to open the diner door, and let her go first.  Heather looked around the room at the people in each booth, at each table.  She had no idea what Munson looked like, and she’d forgotten to ask when she talked to him a few minutes ago.  A hostess in a pink uniform and white apron walked up to them.  Leaning down she grabbed two menus from under the hostess stand, and smiled.  “You looking for someone?” she asked.

“Yeah, Harry Munson,” Zack replied, and Heather was surprised when the waitress nodded.  She turned and walked toward a booth against the back wall where a big black man in a dark blue knit cap sat.  He tipped his chin as they approached, but he didn’t smile.  He looked tough, mean and strictly business.  Heather felt a little intimidated as she scooted across the black vinyl seat to sit near the window.  Zack sat beside her, then reached his hand across the table.

“Zack Taylor,” he announced with a smile.

“Harry Munson,” the man said, swallowing Zack’s hand with his, as a smile lit up his face and eyes.  He wasn’t so scary after all, Heather thought, reaching her hand toward him next.  “You must be Haley,” he said warmly, adding his other hand to cover hers.

“Heather,” she corrected, trying to pull her hand back, but he held tight.

“You’re a very brave young lady, Heather.  I just want to let you know I believe you now.   Jack Thomas is a predator of the worst kind, and it looks like you’re not the only young woman he’s preyed upon.  I talked to two other teenagers he was responsible for monitoring, and they have horror tales similar to yours.  We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen again.” 

The oddest feeling floated through Heather—relief, but something else she couldn’t identify, it felt like a light switch flipped on inside her body.  Munson finally released her hand, and it took a minute for Heather to push words past the knot of emotion in her throat.  “Ginny Pierce—you need to talk to her too.  She wouldn’t tell me, but I heard it in her voice.” 

“First things first,” Harry said with a deep, rumbling laugh, as he reached down beside him to grab a file folder and set it on the table.  He unclipped the pen from the folder, and removed a sheet of paper.  Sliding it over to her, he laid the pen on top.  “I need you to write down exactly what happened at that hotel room today.  Give me details that will convince a judge he needs to stay in jail until we can finish this investigation.  I know you must be very
afraid
, that he’ll pull another stunt like this to keep you from prosecuting him.  If he was kept in jail, you’d feel
much safer
, I’m sure.”

Heather’s eyes flew up to his, and he spoke to her with them.  Told her exactly what she needed to write.  She picked up the pen, and her mind zoomed over the facts as fast as she could write them down, adding how his actions made her feel.  It wasn’t a lie that she was scared out of her mind that he would do it again, and she wrote that too.  When she finished, she looked up.

“Now, sign your name—Haley Morgan—down at the bottom.”  It took a minute and some thought for her to scrawl her birth name on the paper, before she pushed the paper back at Harry Munson. 

He looked it over, smiled, and removed another sheet of paper from the file.  “Now, this one is where you tell me what he did to you twelve years ago.  Lewd and lascivious conduct with a minor is going to be the clincher to make sure he becomes a permanent guest of the Oklahoma Department of Corrections.  Again, details matter, so I want everything you have, but the truth.”

“Okay,” she whispered, taking the paper from him.  God, that he’d done to other girls what he’d done to her nauseated her.  “Did he, um, rape any of the other girls you talked to?” she mumbled, as she put the pen to paper and tried to force herself to recount what happened that day, what Jack Thomas had done to her.

“They’ve filed similar complaints, yes,” he said vaguely, and her eyes flew to his again.  The anger in his eyes said yes, even though he didn’t mouth the words.  Heather’s chest constricted and trapped her sob.  Her fist closed around the ink pen, and Zack slid his arm over the back of the seat to squeeze her shoulder.  “I’m on the ledge with you, baby.  Don’t look down, just write,” he said, his voice soothing.

Heather’s eyes met his, and she fell into the warm, blue pools, swam around there, drew on his strength and determination, then took a deep breath.  Letting it out, she looked back down at the paper and began to write.  Each word felt purged from her soul, as she fought through her fear, swallowed her disgust, and finally brought to light what had happened to her.  What Jack Thomas had done to her.    When she reached the last line on the page, she asked Harry for another.  The words went on and on, and with each word she got stronger, her soul a little lighter.  The final word came, and she stared at the signature line for a minute, before she angrily and confidently scrawled
Haley Morgan
there. 

Zack was right, she’d finally reclaimed what that bastard had stolen from her, she thought, as she slid the paper back over to Harry Munson.  “I hope the trial comes quickly,” she said, and Munson laughed.

“We’re going to call a Grand Jury next week, and I think it will be a slam dunk to get the indictment.  Internal Affairs has put him on administrative leave for now, but he’ll be fired once we get an indictment.  I doubt he’ll be stupid enough to go to trial with what we have.”

“What about the charges against me?” Heather asked, weak with relief.

“I imagine after the prosecutor and judge see the facts here, those will be dropped.  I’ll try and get that done as soon as possible,” Munson replied, with a kind smile.

Heather looked at Zack, and he looked at Munson.  “Do we need to stick around?”

“Yeah, we’ll need her for the Grand Jury testimony, but after the indictment is handed down, which should be fast, if he takes a plea deal, you can head on out.  If he doesn’t plea, you can still leave, but you’ll have to come back for the trial.  Getting a trial date could take a while.”

“Maybe next weekend?” Heather asked hopefully, and Munson shrugged. 

Heather couldn’t think of anything more she wanted than to be back at Zack’s ranch, the only place she’d ever found peace.  The place she wanted to stay, put down roots.  Or at least see if there was a possible future for them.  He said he loved her, proved it, and she loved him with all her heart.  But that didn’t mean they could work things out. 

They were still as different as night and day.   Her problems had brought them together, and they would mostly be resolved when they went back.  They could decide they had nothing in common then.  She could get tired of the country life.  He might decide he didn’t want her there anymore.  And she was worrying about things that hadn’t happened yet. 

One day and problem at a time, Heather.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Heather blew out a breath, pulled her hand out of the bread dough and swiped her forearm across her forehead.  The power-baking she’d been doing all morning, to distract herself from the fact that today marked two weeks since they left Tulsa, had about worn her out.  A glance at the kitchen clock told her she’d been kneading the bread dough entirely too long.  It would probably be tough as a boot now, but at least she’d worked out a measure of her anxiety and frustration.  They should have heard something by now.

As Munson expected, the indictment was handed down, and was sent to the prosecutor for a trial date.  Before they left, Jack’s attorney had started negotiating with the prosecutor, but so far they hadn’t been notified a plea deal had been struck.   She never wanted to go back to that godforsaken place, or see that devil spawn again. 
Please let him confess
. 

Heather stuck her hand back into the dough and squeezed, then punched her fist into the ball.  She jumped when arms snaked around her waist and tightened, right before Zack dropped a wet kiss on her neck, then took a long deep sniff by her ear.  “You smell like vanilla today,” he announced.

“
Doh
—I’ve been baking,” she said with a shiver, tilting her neck when he kissed her again, closer to her ear this time.  When his hands crept under her the hem of her t-shirt and wandered upward, she elbowed him, nudging him back with her shoulder.  “I thought you were supposed to be supervising those contractors on the fence?”

Zack backed up a step, but she still felt his hot breath on her shoulder.  “They’re on their lunch break, so I took a break too.  They went to town, so they’ll be gone at least an hour.”

Heather knew what that meant now.  Zack wanted her to drop what she was doing, so he could drag her into the bedroom.  God, she loved it when he did that.  But not today.  She had to finish this bread, and she had corn muffins in the oven. 

“You’re not getting a
nooner
today, cowboy.  I have to finish this bread, and I’ve got muffins in the oven,” she informed with a chuckle.  He’d eaten most of the ones left from yesterday morning at supper last night, then finished the last one with coffee for breakfast this morning.

Zack’s arms appeared at her waist again, and he hugged her from behind, rested his chin on her shoulder.  “There’s only one muffin I want, sweet thing,” he murmured, his deep, rumbly voice skittering along her nerves exciting each one.  Goosebumps raised on her arms when he nipped her earlobe, sucked it.  A shiver shook her, she pulled her hands out of the dough and turned.  “You’re not going to let me finish this are you?” she asked.

“No, ma’am,” he drawled with a sexy grin.

“Fine…” Heather huffed a breath, and turned to wash her hands at the sink. “You’re not going to have cornbread for supper.”

“Sounds like a fair trade to me,” Zack replied, hesitated a moment and Heather could feel his eyes on her ass.  “Did I tell you how fine your ass looks in those shorts, angel?”

“You had me at muffin, cowboy,” she replied, wiping her hands on the dishtowel.  She tossed it on the counter, stepped closer to him and put her hand on his chest.  “Save your flattery and kiss me.”  

Zack’s eyebrow lifted, as he tipped his hat back.  Both of his hands landed on her ass to jerk her against his rock hard erection.  His fingers branded the bottom of her cheeks, as his mouth slammed over hers, and he swallowed her sigh.  Heather circled his neck with her arms, tiptoed to stretch herself, rub herself against his body and Zack’s moan filled her mouth.  He shoved his fingers into her hair, held her head while he ground his mouth against hers, feasted on it, drove her out of her mind with his need. 

Her toes curled and she moaned, as his hips worked with hers.  Heather would never get enough of this cowboy’s kisses, his brand of loving.  Like everything else he did, Zack Taylor put everything he had behind it.  It was so much sometimes, so intense, she craved it so badly now, the thought it might go away one day scared her.  If the day came, the day he didn’t want her in his life anymore, she’d be broken, devastated.  She wasn’t sure she’d survive losing him.

That’s how much she’d come to love him, want him,
need
him in her life.  Zack kissed her silly, then sat her on her heels and dropped one last kiss on her swollen mouth.  “I love you, Heather.  Get that damned look off of your face.”

“What look?” she asked dazed.

“Like you’re scared of something.  Everything is good now, accept it.  I have news for you, but I want you to see something first.”  He stepped back, his hands fell to his sides.  “I’m going to take a quick shower, you pack us a lunch, we’re going on a picnic,” he announced with the excitement in his voice shining in his eyes.

Her body deflated and she frowned.  “But I thought you wanted—”
to have sex
.

“Oh, I
do
and we
will
, but I want to talk first, so don’t dawdle.”  He shooed her with his hands, then turned toward the living room with a laugh.

Maybe one day she’d understand how this man’s mind worked.  Heather turned off the oven as she walked to the refrigerator to pull out the ham she’d cooked earlier in the week.  Picking a butcher knife from the block, she sliced off thick chunks, and had only gotten as far as slicing tomatoes for the sandwiches when Zack walked back in the kitchen looking sexier than any man had a right to look.  Drops of water slid down his neck to be absorbed into his clean, black t-shirt, and she wanted to lick them. 

“Your hair is dripping on the floor,” she said instead, as she slapped a slice of tomato on each sandwich.

“I’ll mop it up when we get back.  I’m in a hurry, and you’re entirely too slow.  Let me help you.”  He grabbed the bag she’d set on the counter and shoved some grapes and a couple of bananas inside then slapped the sandwiches together and added them on top, without wrapping them.  In quick strides he walked to the refrigerator, opened it and pulled out two cans of soda which he also just shoved into the bag.

She folded her arms over her chest and watched while he tied up the bag.  “Those Cokes are going to make the sandwiches soggy.”

“I don’t give a damn, sweet thing,” he replied, looking up at her with a heated smile.  “I have things to say to you.”  Zack transferred the blanket and bag to his left hand then offered her his right arm.  “Your carriage awaits, beautiful.”

Heather hooked her arm though his and Zack led her to the back door, but with every step they got closer to the golf cart, her anxiety built.  She stopped, pulling him up short.  “Zack just tell me the news, don’t be so dramatic.  You know I’m already a wreck about it.  Did Jack confess?” she asked, and his body tensed.  “I can take it, just tell me.”

His smile faded, as he looked down at her, his blue eyes simmering.  “You’re not going to spoil my surprise, we’re still going out to the pond.  But yes, he confessed, and he has a date for sentencing.  According to Munson, he’s getting pretty near the maximum sentence, twenty years on each count, plus an extra five for his trip to the hotel to terrorize you.  The only thing up in the air is when he’ll be eligible for parole, and whether the judge thinks the sentence is stiff enough. If he doesn’t he can throw out the plea deal.”

“What happens if the judge throws out the deal?” Heather asked, her voice as shaky as her insides.  She did not want to hear the answer, but she already knew.

“We go back to Tulsa and go to court.”

Blood rushed to her head and Heather groaned, as her knees went weak.  Zack caught her, set the bag down on the cart seat then tipped up her chin.  “Munson and Randall both say that’s not going to happen.  That’s why the prosecutor didn’t budge much on the maximum sentence in the plea deal.  The judge will take the deal and that man will be out of your life forever—out of
our
lives.”  Zack dropped a kiss on her lips, then smiled down at her.  “Now get your pretty ass in that cart so we can go celebrate.”

Heather nodded, pulled herself together then shoved the bag of food over to the far side before she climbed into the cart.  “I thought you’d have taken us out one of your new horses,” she said, as he shifted the cart into gear with a jerk.

“I don’t trust them yet, especially riding double.”  He looked over at her and smiled.  “Particularly with you riding with me—this is safer.”

“I’m not made of glass, and I
have
ridden a horse before,” Heather replied with a snort.  That’s how Zack treated her most of the time.  Like she was fragile and would break.  He was overprotective most of the time, and always watching her.  She now appreciated how Tywla felt and her frustration with him.  Heather wasn’t particularly keen on riding a horse again, she’d be perfectly fine if she never rode one again, but Zack’s condescending attitude galled her. 

“You rode a horse that was trained to follow his buddies around the arena.  This ranch isn’t an arena, and those horses aren’t tail followers.  They’re cutting horses,” Zack explained gruffly.

“You saying I don’t know how to ride?” Heather asked indignantly. 

No, she wasn’t a bareback bronc rider, hadn’t ridden since birth like he had, but she could hold her own on a horse, even though she didn’t like to ride.  She had held her own for the few months she’d ridden with the color guard, hadn’t embarrassed herself or them.  And she looked damned good while she was doing it.

“I didn’t say that at all.  What I said was those horses are untested, and I’m not risking your pretty neck on one of them until I trust them.”

“So you’ll let me ride once you trust them?” she pressed, having no idea why she was.

“We’ll see,” he replied with a huffed breath.  “I’ll look for a horse more your speed.”

“More my
speed
?” she screeched, turning in the seat to look at him.

Zack stopped the cart, looked at her and his clear blue eyes begged her to drop it.  “Why can’t anything be easy with you, sweet thing?”

“If you want easy, find another woman,” Heather replied shortly, dragging her eyes out to the tree line in the distance.  Heather wasn’t and never would be easy.  She wasn’t a go-with-the-flow kind of woman.  She also didn’t put up with men talking down to her, and that’s what this one was doing right now.

“I don’t want easy, but I don’t want to argue either, angel.  This is stupid.  Today is too pretty a day, and I’m spending the afternoon with my girl.  Let’s just have fun…
please
?”

Heather’s anger deflated on a sigh, and her heart melted. 
His girl
?  “I’m sorry, Zack.  I’m just a nervous wreck these days.”

“I love you, Heather.  You need to accept that this crap is behind us now—stop worrying about it.  Enjoy the sunshine for a change, and accept that you’ll never have to live in the shadows again.”

Zack was right, and it was going to take a lot of getting used to.  Being free to be who she was, whoever she wanted to be, was not something she’d ever had before.  She took a deep breath and blew it out.  “I’ll try to let it go, I promise.”

“Good girl,” Zack growled, as he put his foot on the accelerator.  “Hold on tight, it’s about to get bumpy.  We rode the horses through here a few days ago when it was muddy so they tore it up.”

Heather grabbed the support next to her, and the back of the seat.  Before they’d gone twenty feet, she was gritting her teeth.  The bag of lunch beside her bounced off the seat onto the floorboard.  She grabbed for it but it flew out of the cart. 

“Zack stop!” she yelled and he jerked his foot off the gas.  Her body lurched, but she caught herself with the support bar, and only swung half out of the cart.

“You pole dancing now, angel?” he asked with a laugh.

Not funny at all.  “Our lunch flew out, asshole,” she grated, easing back on the seat to swing her legs out of the cart. 

“I was just
kidding
.  It was a
joke
—lighten
up
!” Zack growled, his frustration a tangible thing, as she stomped the ten feet behind the cart to gather up the fruit and soft drinks. She left the sandwiches that were laying in the dried mud.  Their sexy picnic wasn’t turning out to be so sexy at all, she thought, as she strode back to the cart. 

Zack was being an asshole, and their lunch was ruined.  “Let’s just go back to the house,” she grumbled, as she sat on the seat and tossed the bag between them on the floorboard.

Without a word, ignoring her, Zack drove onward for another fifteen minutes, and Heather hung on to keep from being ejected from the cart.  Finally, he stopped near a canopy of trees at the back of the property, grabbed the bag and blanket, then walked toward the trees, leaving her to follow.  By the time Heather picked her way over the uneven ground, he had the blanket spread on the bank of a large half-lily-covered pond. 

The sight improved her mood, and she blew out a breath to get rid of the last shreds of her irritation.  He was right, it was a beautiful place, gorgeous day and too nice to argue.  Over nothing.  “Pretty place,” she commented, sitting on the corner of the blanket to stare at his stiff back as he pulled off his boots on the other side.

“One of my favorite,” Zack replied gruffly.  “I spent many a summer day swimming in that pond.  Many a summer night on these banks.”