Carla Cassidy

Home on the Ranch: Oklahoma


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realized it was the very first time he’d heard her laugh. Odd, that in all the years he’d hung out here, he’d never heard her laughter before. And never would he have expected it to be such a pleasant sound.

      “Now you’re going to have me questioning your investigative skills,” she said. “Jake has certainly been a godsend since Dad’s death. He helped me take care of the arrangements for the funeral and has been a comfort, but there’s certainly no romance there. He’s just a good employee.”

      Maybe she didn’t see any romance on her end, but Zack knew with a man’s instinct that Jake’s interest in Katie had nothing to do with him being her employee.

      “What are you going to do with the list of names I’m giving you?” she asked.

      “I’ll give them to Dalton. He’ll do a complete background check on each of them.” He relaxed as the conversation turned to his work, the reason he was here. “Within a couple of days, a week at the most, I should know everything there is to know about the men on your list.”

      “But you won’t know which one of them killed my father. You won’t know which one of them stampeded my herd.”

      “Probably not,” he agreed. “At least not from looking at their backgrounds, although that information might give me a clue as to who is capable of such a crime.”

      “You really don’t believe me about the stampede, do you?”

      Zack felt the dangerous ground beneath him. So far she’d shown him a calm, rational nature that he’d never seen before. But he suspected she was on her best behavior because she needed him.

      There seemed to be a tenuous peace between them, but he was certain it was a peace easily shattered. Still, he wasn’t going to lie. “I don’t know what I believe,” he finally replied.

      “I’ll go get the list for you.” She stood abruptly and he got a whiff of her fragrance. The pleasant scent did nothing to diffuse the sudden tension that crackled in the air.

      “Katie, if you wanted a yes man to help you out with this, then you’ve hired the wrong man. I wasn’t there in the pasture yesterday. I didn’t see what happened, so I can’t make a judgment call.”

      “By not believing what I’ve told you happened, you’ve made a judgment call about me,” she replied. Without waiting for an answer she went into the house, allowing the screen door to slam shut behind her.

      * * *

      Kate didn’t know why it was so important to her that he believe her, but it was, and the fact that she knew he didn’t frustrated her. And if she were to look deep inside she’d know what she’d find there was fear.

      Somebody had killed her father. That was a fact. Somebody had intentionally spooked her herd and nearly caused her to be trampled to death.

      If her death had been the intent, then the attempt had been unsuccessful, which meant there might be another attempt. She didn’t want her death to be what made a believer out of Zack.

      Still, her desire for him to believe her went beyond the fear for her personal safety. She frowned, not wanting to take the time to examine her feelings where Zack West was concerned.

      As it was, she was aware of the fact that she was far too conscious of him as a strong, good-looking man rather than an intelligent, trained investigator.

      She hadn’t liked the way her heart had jagged just a bit in her chest when she’d seen him heading toward the house. The night shadows had clung to him, making him look tall and strong as he’d strode toward her.

      She told herself she’d just been grateful for the company, for anyone’s company in the quiet hours of the evening.

      She grabbed the manila folder that held the list she’d prepared for him that afternoon then returned to the porch, where he now stood next to the railing. “I wasn’t sure how far back you wanted me to go on former employees. You mentioned a year, so that’s what I did.”

      “At least this gives us a place to start.” He took the folder from her then leaned back against the porch railing.

      “Sonny mentioned this afternoon something about Doc Edwards coming out tomorrow to tag new calves. What’s that about?” he asked.

      “We’re not branding anymore. One of the things I implemented when I got back from college was electronic tags for the cattle. That way if they’re stolen, we can track them by computer to find out where they are.”

      “What made you decide to do that?” he asked. “Branding has always been good enough for most people around here. Besides, I thought cattle rustling went out with disco.”

      “Haven’t you heard? Cattle rustling is back in fashion. With the new fad of low carb diets, rustlers have discovered that beef is big business again. I talked Dad into tagging last spring when he lost twenty head of cattle to rustlers.”

      She saw one of his dark brows raise slightly. “I guess I’ve been out of touch with the ranching world since working for Wild West Protective Services.” He gazed at her thoughtfully. “It’s been several months since I last saw your dad. I asked you before, but maybe you’ve thought of somebody he’d had problems with? I don’t just mean here around the ranch.”

      She sighed and stared out at the brilliant blanket of stars strewing the night sky. “I’ve thought about it for the past two weeks and I can’t think of anyone Dad had problems with or exchanged a harsh word with. Brett has been an ongoing problem, but when he came to Dad with a sob story Dad rehired him, so surely he wouldn’t have any grudge to hold.”

      She looked at him once again. “You of all people should know how easygoing Dad was. He didn’t have a temper. He didn’t go looking for problems. I just can’t imagine anyone having a reason to hurt him. You know he was on the town city council. I have gone to most of the meetings and there’s always arguing about issues, but never does it feel mean-spirited.”

      “Maybe I need to check out the local politics, go to the next council meeting.”

      “The next meeting is a week from tomorrow. Every second Saturday evening of the month. I just can’t imagine any city business that would result in somebody wanting to kill Dad.”

      He stared off into the night. “If we can figure out a motive, then it will be easier to solve the crime. Unfortunately it’s possible there is no motive, that it was a crime of rage, a crime of passion.” He returned his gaze to her and his eyes glittered in the artificial porch light.

      “What do you mean?”

      “I mean maybe out there on the trail Gray encountered somebody and they had a fight that ended tragically.”

      “There was no fight,” she countered. “At least, not a fair one. Dad was a big man and quite capable of taking care of himself. I saw him, Zack. I saw him on the ground. I held one of his hands in mine.” Her voice cracked and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “There wasn’t a mark on his face, a scratch or bruise on his hands. He never got a chance to defend himself.”

      Without conscious thought she stepped forward and curled her hand around Zack’s strong forearm. “It was an ambush, Zack. That’s what happened on the trail that morning. Somebody ambushed my father and killed him.”

      He covered her hand with his own, his eyes holding not a haunted but a dangerous glint. “I told you we’ll get him, Katie, and we will.”

      His hand was hot on hers and for a moment her breath caught. She licked her dry lips. “Kate,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. “It’s Kate. I’m not a little girl anymore, Zack.”

      “Yeah. I noticed.” His voice sounded deeper than usual and in that moment Kate remembered how many times in her youth she had dreamed of Zack’s hand holding hers, his mouth touching hers and his body possessing hers.

      She wondered what his mouth tasted like, if it would taste as dangerous, as