by Lisa Jackson
“He always gets his way.”
Trisha glanced up at her brother. “I think Dad had an ulterior motive for shipping her off.”
Zach lifted a disinterested eyebrow.
“Kat’ll freak, ’cause I think the investigation’s winding down. The cops are out of leads and the FBI isn’t doing any better. All a bunch of fools with their thumbs rammed up their asses.”
“What about Phelps?”
“The private investigator? He’s a joke. Have you ever seen anyone so…ordinary in your life?” Dropping the pine needles, she dusted her hands and glared up at Zachary as if the situation were all his fault. “It’s all a front, anyway. Dad wants to believe that the Polidoris are behind the kidnapping.”
“Are they?”
“They’re not stupid, Zach. Anthony has to know that he’d be at the top of the suspect list.”
Zach wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t bother to comment. Let Trisha believe what she wanted.
“It’s all such a pain. Ever since London disappeared no one can go anywhere without some damned bodyguard prowling around behind.”
Zach tied the reins to the second rail of the fence. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to his sister’s whining. Trisha was just ticked off because she couldn’t sneak around meeting Mario Polidori. Both families disapproved of the romance between Mario and Trisha. The only subject the Polidoris and Danverses had agreed upon in the last hundred years was to forbid Mario and Trisha from seeing each other. They were adults, she’d argued, and Witt had told her that she’d better start acting like one and move out, but as far as he was concerned, while she lived under his roof, she’d abide by his rules.
Trisha had other plans. She seemed to think she was some modern-day Juliet and Mario was her Romeo. The thought made Zach sick and he spat on the dusty ground. She should have learned her lesson about Mario Polidori. With a grunt, he grabbed the saddle and slung it over his shoulder to carry it into the stable.
Following him inside, Trisha said, “I thought you and I could work a deal.”
Zach sent her a look telling her silently to get lost. He didn’t need Trisha’s kind of trouble. He had enough of his own. Though he’d gotten a slight reprieve, the old man was still making noise about boarding school and Zach was considering walking through the Danvers gates and never looking over his shoulder.
“C’mon, Zach. I need your help.”
Zach swung the saddle over a sawhorse, then dropped the blanket over the top rail of a stall. Dust and horsehair rose in a cloud that clogged the air.
Trisha coughed and Zach swallowed a smile. Served her right. She’d never shown any interest in the horses—she was only here because she wanted something. And badly.
“Okay,” she said. “Here’s the deal—I need to find a way to sneak out of here. At night.”
“Why?”
“It’s personal.”
“To meet Mario, right?”
“The less you know the better.”
“No.”
“What?” Her face crumpled into a look of wounded pride. “I stood up for you—”
“How?” he demanded.
“I told Kat that you wouldn’t hurt a hair on London’s head.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered as he yanked the bandanna from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his neck.
“That’s more than anyone else did for you, and Kat’s still not convinced that you weren’t involved somehow. If you were any older everyone would think you were behind it, but since you’re only seventeen—”
“Why would I kidnap London?”
“For money,” Trisha said slowly and Zach couldn’t help his reaction. His head snapped up and his eyes narrowed on his sister.
“Then wouldn’t I demand ransom?”
“It’s only been a little while.”
“So how would I do it? How would I grab Ginny and London and stow them away God-only-knows where while I got myself cut for an alibi. It doesn’t make sense, Trisha, and everyone knows it. They’re just pointing at me because I was gone that night and there’s no one else to blame.”
“Tell that to Jack Logan.”
“Logan’s a jackass. Oh shit, who cares?” Zach stormed outside and unknotted the reins. Cyclone sidestepped and tossed his head as Zach led him into a stall. Muscles knotted in quiet rage, Zach filled a bucket with water and let the colt drink before rubbing him down. “You’re way off base, Trisha,” he finally said.
Trisha dusted off the burlap and sat gingerly on a sack of oats. Leaning forward, propping her elbows on her knees, she cradled her chin. Her gaze narrowed through the dusty window and she chewed on her lower lip. “Okay, okay, maybe you really shouldn’t be the number-one suspect.”
“Thanks.”
“So who do you think took her?”
“I don’t even want to think about it.” And that was the truth.
“Well, someone had to.”
“Okay, Ginny, then.”
“Yeah, but who was she working for?”
“Don’t know. Hell, do we have to do this—dredge it all up again?” Zach hated to admit it, but he missed the little kid. True, she’d bugged the hell out of him and tagged after him. More often than not he’d told her gruffly to “get lost,” but he worried about her and had trouble sleeping at night just wondering what had happened and if she were all right.
Trisha plucked a piece of straw from the manger. “One word from me and you’d be shit out of luck.”
“How’s that?” With the currycomb, Zach worked on a knot in the colt’s mane.
“I could say that Mario told me you were involved in the kidnapping.”
Zach tensed. Where was this going? Slowly, he resumed brushing the horse. “It would be a lie.”
“Everyone would believe it. You know, there are still a few rumors floating around about you.”
“Can it, Trisha.” He’d heard all the gossip and didn’t want to be reminded that when he’d been conceived his mother was having an affair with Polidori. His teeth ground together but he just kept working, ignoring Trisha’s innuendoes and veiled threats. Christ, what did she want from him?
“It’s just that I hate it here, Zach. This is…nowhere. I want to go back to Portland.”
“You just got here.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You want to be close to Mario.”
“So what?”
Zach slid her a look that called her stupid. “Get smart, Trisha. It’s never gonna work between you and Polidori. Dad’ll never approve.”
“Since when do you care?”
“I don’t. I’m just giving you some free advice.”
“Save it.”
“Fine.” He opened the door at the back of the stable, then let the colt trot outside. With a snort and toss of his head, the horse ran free, bucking and kicking up his heels before lying in the thick dust and rolling. Clouds of dry earth roiled to the sky and the colt grunted in pleasure. Soon all Zach could see of the animal were four white-stockinged legs thrashing madly.
Trisha made a face. “You’re not going to help me?”
Zach shook his head. “No way.”
She arched a delicate brow and set an expression somewhere between a sneer and smile on her pouty lips. “You’ll be sorry.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Irritated, he strode out of the stable and wished that the rest of his family would just leave him alone.
It was hours later when Kat found him. The sun had set and Jason had taken Trisha and Nelson into town. Zach, avoiding his family as much as he could, had stolen two beers from the refrigerator and had climbed onto the roof of the tack shed that butted up to the stables. The dark sky was alive with shooting stars and Zach sat alone, his back propped against the rough outer wall of the second story of the stables, his legs stretched out on the sloping cedar shingles. Through the tar paper and split shakes, he heard the muffled sounds of horses, snorting, rustling in the straw, le
tting out an occasional whinny.
The moon was small, just a sliver, but gave off enough light so he could see the stands of trees flanking the rambling ranch house and outbuildings. The house was lit like a Christmas tree, patches of warm light glowing through the windows. Kat was still awake, prowling the rooms. He caught glimpses of her now and again, moving restlessly from one window to the next, and he decided he wouldn’t slip through the French doors to his room until all the lights had been turned down and he knew that she was asleep. So far, he’d avoided her, but he wouldn’t be able to sidestep her forever.
He opened a can of Coors and beer foamed over the side. He took a gulp, catching most of the overflow when he heard the old dog let out a quiet bark, then the unmistakable sounds of footsteps walking unerringly to the stable. His heart nearly stopped. Seconds later the rungs of the ladder to the hayloft clicked as someone climbed to the top. Now what?
He smelled the scent of her perfume before he saw her in the open window of the hayloft, her face white, her black hair the color of midnight. His chest felt as if it were suddenly constricted with iron bands.
“Manny said you might be here,” she said as casually as if she’d spent all her life creeping around barns and climbing into haymows.
His gut tightened as she slid through the window and stepped onto the roof. Balancing herself with a hand on the roof of the stable, she walked the short distance to his side and slid onto her rear.
The scent of her perfume was stronger as it drifted to his nostrils, and her arm was so close to his that he could feel the heat of her body. He remembered how she’d felt in his arms, supple and pliable and willing…Oh, God…“What do you want?”
“Company.” She offered him a smile. “I thought we were friends.”
Off in the distance a coyote howled.
“I don’t know if that’s possible.”
“We could try to be. Especially if you offered me a beer.”
Throat so dry it felt like sand, he handed the second can to her, and she, with a smile that flashed in the dark night, popped the tab and giggled when the foam erupted and spilled across her fingers. She lapped it up with her tongue and Zach tried not to notice how sexy she looked with the white flecks on her lips.
“It’s beautiful tonight,” she said, staring up at the heavens and sighing loudly. “If you like this kind of thing.”
“You don’t?”
“I’m a city girl.” She drank from the beer, then drew her legs up and wrapped her arms over her bare knees. Her shorts barely covered her butt, but Zach tried to keep his eyes and mind on anything but how damnably sensual she was. “Grew up in Ottawa.”
He didn’t reply, couldn’t.
They sat in silence for what seemed forever. Zach’s heart was drumming so loudly, he wondered if she heard it, and though he pretended disinterested insolence, he suspected she saw right through him.
“I didn’t want to come here,” she admitted. “I don’t like being this far away if there’s any news about London…” Her throat caught on her daughter’s name, but she didn’t break down. Instead she sighed and ran her fingers through the thick black curls that framed her perfect face. “You don’t like me much, do you, Zach?” she asked suddenly.
“You’re…my stepmother.”
“As in wicked stepmother?”
He lifted a shoulder and took the last gulp of his beer. His fingers were still around the empty can when she turned her eyes up to him and they sparked with an inner light. Zach could barely breathe as she, staring at him boldly, placed her hands on his shoulders and brushed her lips across his.
“Jesus, Katherine—” he breathed, his heart knocking crazily. “Don’t!”
“Shh.” She placed those supple lips against his again, just for a second—a second he was certain would change the course of his life forever. Her mouth was teasing and warm, filled with promise.
Zach groaned low in his throat. “Don’t do this, Kat.”
“You want it, too,” she murmured in a sigh as soft as the summer night.
He told himself that he couldn’t kiss her or touch her or even think about her, and yet he was too weak to tear away from her embrace. Her lips fastened over his and her breasts, beneath the fragile barrier of her T-shirt, brushed across his bare chest.
A thousand reasons to stop screamed through his head but when her tongue skimmed his lips, then pressed urgently, demanding entrance, he gave up and he kissed her back, closing his mind to the warnings.
Her tongue was wet and slick and wonderful. It touched the roof his mouth, flicked against his lips and teeth, and promised untold delights.
Heat swirled through his blood and his cock was so hard it strained against the zipper of his cutoffs. Don’t do this! Don’t! an inner voice cried, but instead of protesting, he reached up and his fingers wound in her thick hair. She slid down him and kissed his naked chest, her tongue licking its way against his skin.
A shudder that felt like fire ripped though him. He dropped his beer and the empty can rolled noisily down the roof. His body convulsed and hot desire pumped through him. Grabbing her with strength born of desperation, he kissed her hard on the lips and all he could think about was kissing her and touching her and riding her all night.
She’s your father’s wife, Danvers! his mind yelled, and for once he listened to it. He found the strength to push her away. “This isn’t gonna work,” he said, breathing hard, wishing he could call back the words. He was so hard he was sure he would explode. His fingers clamped around her shoulders, keeping her at arm’s length.
Katherine chuckled deep in her throat and the sound seemed to echo off the distant hills. “What is this, Zach?”
“Wrong. That’s what it is!” He dropped his arms, scooted farther away from her, and ran sweaty, trembling fingers through his long hair.
She pouted a little in the darkness. “Since when did you care about right and wrong?”
“Don’t play with me, Kat,” he warned and was surprised at the conviction in his voice.
“I just felt we had an understanding.” With a lift of her shoulder, she tucked her feet under her and stared down at him. “I don’t get it Zach. I thought—no, I knew—you wanted this.”
“I don’t.”
She snorted. “As a matter of fact, I was certain this is what you needed.”
“I don’t need you, Katherine,” he said, wishing he could put more distance between her sensual body and his own. “I don’t need anybody.”
“Oh, baby, that’s where you’re wrong.” To his mortification, she slid closer and patted his head as if he were a naughty little boy finally forgiven. Zach jerked away from her touch as if she repulsed him.
“Leave me alone, Kat,” he muttered between his teeth. His groin still ached and he was on fire inside, but he stared off into the distance, refusing to look at her. He focused instead on the ridge of dark mountains that loomed on the horizon and heard her sigh before she climbed to her feet, walked the short distance along the roof, slipped through the window, and disappeared into the hayloft.
When she was gone he flopped back on the weathered cedar shakes, angrily gazed up at the stars, and wondered why he was such a fool. He could have had her; she was there for the taking and he, because of some latent sense of nobility, had shrugged off her advances. He could still smell her perfume mingled with the lingering smoke from her cigarettes and he remembered her touch—that warm, bone-melting touch.
Jesus, you’re an idiot!
For the next few days, Zach managed to keep his distance. Up hours before Katherine ever thought about rising, he worked long hours in the fields and returned at sundown. Kat, invariably, was locked in her room, the television blasting. He never ran into her. As for his siblings, they all bothered him. Jason kept crowding him, offering to take him into Bend to meet women, but Zach declined and Jason went off prowling on his own. Trisha was pining for Mario and probably plotting her escape from the family compound. Sometimes she reeked
of marijuana smoke and her eyes were often glassy. Zach had less trouble dealing with her stoned than when she was straight and plotting ways to escape. As for Nelson, the kid was still in the throes of hero worship, tagging after Zach as he went about his chores, trying to find ways to talk about his night with the prostitute. It didn’t seem to matter how many ways Zach explained that nothing really had happened except that he’d managed to get a few new scars; Nelson was still enthralled, certain that Zach had really “scored” with the whore but was protecting her honor, or some such crap.
The kid was sick, Zach thought as he stepped out of the shower and threw on a pair of cutoffs. Nelson’s fascination with all things sexual seemed bent. He wanted to know all about bondage and S&M and all that shit that Zach didn’t really know about and didn’t want to know. Men and women in leather and chains—like some kinky group of Hell’s Angels or something. It kind of made his skin crawl.
Pushing all thoughts of Nelson aside, Zach found leftovers in the kitchen, and since the maid had already retired for the night, he heated up the pork chops in the microwave, snatched himself a beer out of the fridge, and took his meal onto the back porch where the old collie was curled near the swing. Shep perked up at the smell of the meat and whined as Zach sat down and started in on the chops.
“Don’t give me that,” he said to the dog. “You’re too fat as it is.” Shep thumped his tail on the floorboards. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted softly and the sounds of bats’ wings disturbed the silence. The air smelled of horses, dust, and sagebrush. Zach thought he could find peace out here in the middle of nowhere. If it weren’t for his family.
Zach finished his dinner, tossed the bones to the dog, and wiped his fingers on the frayed edges of his cutoff Levi’s. He finished his Budweiser in two swallows, then walked back to the kitchen for another. Downing the second can quickly, he began to feel a slight buzz as he crushed the aluminum in his fist. He made his way back to his room, where he flipped on his stereo and flopped onto this bed. The song was an old one by the Doors.