Circling her vehicle, she came to his window to ask, “Are you okay?”
“That was going to be my opening line. I thought about calling you, but the urge was too strong to see with my own eyes.”
Once again she was touched by his concern for her—a man who admitted he’d avoided feeling for so many years. The big, tough gyrene was doing a good job at reminding her of all that spoke to the “gentler sex.” “I’m okay, Mack,” she said with a slow nod. “Better for seeing you, too.”
He glanced in the direction of the receding headlights of the truck heading for the police station. “It looks like you’ve already been busy tonight. I didn’t realize you moonlight as a car mechanic.”
It surprised her that he’d seen all that. Maybe he’d pulled over to wait until she was alone. “It doesn’t hurt to know a few things, and to stay busy. If I had my way, I’d be servicing our patrol vehicles—only the chief doesn’t want to listen to the guys at Speedy Lube grumble about lost business.”
“Don’t you think your manicure gets enough of a workout with all you do at both ranches?” As he said that, Mack twined his fingers with hers as she rested her hands on the rim of the truck’s door.
“Oh, yeah, so much damage done.” Alana had never had a professional manicure in her life, and knew her hands probably looked it. But she kept her nails short and that helped hide some of that lack of pampering. Nevertheless, it was sweet of him to show his awareness and support. However, she had a more important question. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m supposed to say when people ask who’s driving Fred’s truck around town?”
Mack made a pretense of glancing around the lot that had three vehicles left besides theirs. Parked in the far side of the lot, that was indicative of them belonging to employees still busy inside. “I thought it safe at this hour...and that maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee.”
Alana nodded toward the store. “That would be nice...in a few minutes. First, I have to escort George Lafferty to the bank’s night-deposit box.”
Mack frowned. “Don’t they use an armored-car pick-up service?”
“This store is part of a small chain and the bank is only over there.” She indicated the building across the street.
“Mind if I hang around while you do that?”
“I do,” she said, using the same casual tone he’d used. She knew exactly what he was doing, and she couldn’t allow that. “You’ll make George nervous, unless I can reassure him as to who you are, and you don’t want that, remember?”
Mack drew in and exhaled a slow, long breath. “What if I told you that’s no longer the priority I thought it was?”
Was he telling her that he was going to try to stay and make an attempt to work things out at Last Call? That was...that was wonderful, she thought, but she still couldn’t let him act as her bodyguard, regardless of whether he was capable of doing so or whatever his reasoning.
A movement caught her attention, and through the passenger window of his vehicle, she saw that George was emerging from the store with the last two employees. “Go over to the park. I’ll only be a minute or two behind you.”
For a moment, Mack looked like he was going to get stubborn, but with a reluctant nod, he pulled away. Relieved, Alana went into her vehicle to notify Ed on the radio that the routine procedure was taking place. She then watched the last two employees of the grocery get into their cars, and George climb into his red pickup truck. Then she followed it, and watched him make his deposit into the bank’s night drawer.
Once that was done, she flashed her lights to wish the store manager a good night. As he headed home, she radioed Ed to notify him that all was well. They would now follow their own routines for the night, barring something that would require their joint attention. Ordinarily, she’d go have a coffee break with Bunny at the station, but she was hoping things were going so well that she would be a third wheel. Besides, Mack was waiting.
He was parked just about where they’d first met, only this time he was leaning against the white truck’s cab door watching the road, not the creek, where the flooding was way down. Shutting off her lights, but leaving her vehicle running, Alana went to him, immediately wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing his head down to kiss him.
Mack wrapped his arms around her just as eagerly, an utterance of deep satisfaction rumbling up from his chest. Her uniform and gear made getting as close as they would have liked a frustrating impossibility; but it had been over twelve hours since they’d stood like this, and it was a vast improvement over the long night that they’d expected to be dealing with.
“And here I thought I was going to get an ear chewing for wanting to stay close to you,” he said, nuzzling her ear.
Alana sighed. She shouldn’t make it so easy for him, but he’d just given her news too gratifying to get into a professional huff. “You left when I asked you to, that’s what’s important. I understand and appreciate your impulse to protect me.”
“There’s a difference between an impulse and a need.”
She closed her eyes to cherish the moment, then forced herself to recite, “I am on duty. I cannot tear off your clothes and seduce you now.”
Mack’s chest shook with silent laughter, but he slid his hands over her bottom to let her know that her words were affecting him another way, as well. “What about in nine or ten hours?”
What they were talking about involved far more than breakfast and they both knew it. “This is happening so quickly.” Her fingers found his pulse at the base of his throat, and fingered the light brown hair below it. “You really meant it about not worrying so much about word getting out about you? Because I was going to tell you in the morning about a problem.”
Although that brought another frown to Mack’s stark but handsome face, he only asked, “What’s up?”
“One of the drivers at the propane place in town commented to his boss about seeing lights on in your house last night,” she replied. “These guys are like mail carriers and other regular route workers, Mack. They feel responsible to mention when things appear out of the norm. That’s reassuring and sometimes a lifesaver for the elderly.”
Accepting that with a nod, he asked, “How did you handle that?”
“I didn’t. I was off duty. The chief did and he’s been fishing with the D.A. for the last few hours, so I’ll have to find out the rest of what happened at breakfast. It was the day-shift desk sergeant who shared that bit of information with me. Not one of my favorite people, so I didn’t respond for fear of raising his curiosity, or by asking him any questions.”
“I must’ve been slow to shut the miniblinds in the office,” Mack said, clearly thinking back. With a philosophical shrug, he said, “I’m grateful you and your uncle bought me the time you did. But as I told you, it matters less than it did yesterday, a lot less than it did under your blue moon.”
Aware of how her heartbeat couldn’t seem to slow down at his life-altering innuendo, Alana still wasn’t able to dispel one concern. “But what if word gets back east?”
“Maybe I’m putting too much importance in myself.” He was now more interested in nibbling at her lower lip. “They could have just filed me away under Pain in the Butt.”
Could anything be that easy? Not if the media got involved. “We’ll see what the chief says,” she replied, trying to stay focused as his caresses became increasingly irresistible. “We just have to be careful of...Walt Biehl. He’s—Mack, listen to me. He’s the owner-editor of Oak Grove News. If he gets wind of the Navy Cross story—”
“Just tell me that you’re coming over tomorrow morning,” he said, before locking his lips to hers for a kiss that threatened to be her undoing.
She wanted to go with him now. It was impossible to stay professional and focused on her job when he was treating her as though he was a castaway, and she’d just walked out of the ocean—a gift to his isolation, maybe a gift to his sanity.
“Barring a railroad derailment, or gas-well exp
losion,” she relented, “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Six
“I forgot to include the possibility of an escape.”
Mack’s grip on the phone grew tighter. It was after nine Saturday morning and there was still no sign of Alana. He’d made himself call her BlackBerry because he pictured the worst. It rang nine times before she answered, and her first words chilled him to the bone.
What the hell? he thought. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. I’m just having to get out from under these trees to get better reception.”
There were indeed background noises that fit—the sound of brush being moved, other human, even animal sounds? “What’s going on?”
“There’s some lowlife from one of the drug rehab facilities in the area who didn’t realize he had it so good. He roughed up a guard and now all county personnel are involved. You probably even heard more helicopters going overhead than we usually have around here. I’m on Tanker as part of the horse unit searching woods that are too difficult for vehicles, or even ATVs. But I can guarantee you that our guy isn’t hiding out here, he’s heading for a girlfriend or family to get a change of clothes, food and money for his next fix. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”
That turned out to be nearly four hours later. She stifled yawns as she drove the trailer carrying Tanker home. “Sorry,” she told Mack regarding their planned rendezvous. “At least the guy is caught and no one else was injured. But I still have to clean up my boy, and then myself, and get to bed.”
Knowing that she meant she would be expected to report for her shift as usual, Mack experienced a wave of incredulity. She was keeping the hours of a front-line combatant. “When the heck do you get a day off?”
“Monday and Tuesday,” she told him. “Almost there.”
Her audible weariness decided something for Mack. There was at least one thing he could do without compromising her professionally. “I’m getting Eberardo, and we’re coming over to your place to take care of Tanker,” he replied. “Don’t argue. You get a shower and go collapse.”
As soon as Mack raced toward the barn, the ranch hand set his push broom against a wall and came to hear what was going on. Mack only needed to announce, “Ally needs us!” and he ordered Two Dog to stay and hopped into the truck.
“Gracias a Dios esto se terminó bien,” Eberardo said, upon hearing about what happened. “Eh...I thank the God it all end well.”
Amen to that, Mack thought, as he drove toward the gate that Alana used that separated the properties. “Sorry to take you away from your work, but she has to turn right around and do her shift tonight, too, and it’s been close to thirty years since I’ve been near a horse, and I’m sure I forgot whatever little I learned. I need you to help me get her horse taken care of.”
“Tanker...” The Hispanic man whistled as he resettled his straw Western hat on his head. “I do anything for Señorita Ally, even that.”
“He’s a handful, huh?” Mack asked.
“His name not only because he like to eat,” the other man replied in his broken English.
“He’s dangerous to be around?”
“Not for her.”
Mack listened to Eberardo as he gave a concise record of Tanker’s history. Between spurts of Spanish, he learned that Fred had wanted to give Alana a pretty, elegant filly for her seventeenth birthday, but Alana had refused. She’d wanted the horse that looked like it had posed for the Trojans centuries ago.
“Did my father and Ally ride together a lot?” He had to ask.
“Until the cancer. Señor Fred love her like his own. Eiye, he worry all the time after the plane kill the family. One day she go riding, and some boys poaching in Señor Fred’s woods. There is a shot. Señor Fred and me, we look at each other and run for the truck. Almost—” he motioned flipping with his hands, then Eberardo pointed through the windshield “—then we see Tanker come at us, but no Señorita Ally. Tanker crazy wild. But that horse turn and take us to her. She bleeding bad here, here, here,” he said, indicating a place just inside the hairline beyond her right temple, her shoulder and her left leg. “But she loco, she don’t know. She wild, screaming and swinging the rifle she somehow take from the boys. Bust it good on a tree. Boys on the ground too much scared to move.”
As though she hadn’t been through enough by that point in her short life, Mack thought.
By the time they reached the stables at Pretty Pines, he had a new respect—and fear—for the woman who was quickly becoming the center of his world. He spotted her pulling into the ranch from the front entryway, and watched as she handled the trailer expertly, turning it so that the rear faced the stable to make unloading Tanker as easy as possible.
Emerging from her silver pickup looking dusty, sunburned despite her tan, scratched up by brush and exhausted, she gave both him and Eberardo a grateful smile. “You guys are sweethearts. I really could have managed on my own, but I have to admit I’m so glad I don’t have to.”
Wanting nothing but to sweep her into his arms and carry her to the house himself, Mack had to settle for a private few seconds as Eberardo worked on unhooking her truck from the trailer so she could drive the truck back to the house. He used his body to further block the other man’s view.
“What else can I do?” he asked her.
“Drive me to the house. Carry me to the shower.”
“Lady, do not tempt me.” Hearing the metal-on-metal sounds that told him Eberardo had about completed his task, he quickly slipped his hand under her ponytail to cup the back of her neck. Then he gave her a hint of the kiss he knew they both craved. “Sleep thinking of me with you,” he murmured.
After she drove off, he returned his attention to Eberardo and the surprisingly short-legged black demon the ranch hand backed out of the trailer. Tired and not happy that his human was leaving him, the horse’s nostrils flared, his eyes rolled at both of them, and he warned them off with a high whinny.
“Holy mountains,” Mack muttered at the overall size of the horse. While Tanker had a medium-length back, it was broad, and his hindquarters and forearms were impressive in their musculature. With joints equally pronounced, the beast looked like a professional weight lifter.
Eberardo chuckled, and reassuringly patted the animal. “He a big one, all right.” He clucked and cooed to the snorting horse. “You work hard today, eh? Keep your lady safe, too. That mean plenty good brushing, and oats, I think.”
As the shorter man went to work, he showed everything to Mack and explained how it worked and what to look for as far as sores, scratches and swelling. Fortunately, Tanker had made it through the day without any trouble. Mack’s job was to provide water and carrot sticks that Eberardo directed him to, which Alana kept in a small refrigerator in the storage closet.
At first the horse turned away from the offering, clearly not liking a stranger’s scent—particularly a man’s. Realizing the problem, Mack used the hand with which he’d touched Alana. Tanker began to turn away again, checked himself and then with a soft snort, he sniffed again. Satisfied, he broke off a bit of carrot.
“I can see I have my work cut out for me,” Mack told the watchful horse.
* * *
“You’re worrying too much.”
It was just shy of eleven o’clock that night and try as he might, Mack knew he wouldn’t be able to go to bed until he made sure Alana was in better condition for the long hours still ahead of her. “One of us has to,” he replied to her gentle scolding. “You know perfectly well that fatigue can hamper your judgment—and we’re not just talking about being behind a wheel. I often took the midnight watch when deployed, so I know what I’m talking about. Besides, I just locked the gate and I’m heading your way. You can’t turn me down now.”
“Oh, well, when you put it that way.” Alana stifled another yawn before admitting, “I guess I was starting to fantasize how pine needles can feel like a down mattress when you’re tired enough.”
Mack shook his head, t
hinking she was too dedicated for her own good. She could have called in her sub to take over for her tonight. Even if the guy had been on duty already today, as she had, he had to be more rested than she was.
“We’ll meet at the park, right?” he asked.
“Sounds like an— Oh, my Lord.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Can’t you see it? There’s a plane in trouble. It’s too low!”
She disconnected the instant Mack saw the light in the sky. He was close enough now that he could see more than its lights, he could see it was a small, white single-engine aircraft attempting to make it to the airport at the southern edge of town maybe a quarter mile beyond the convenience store. But something was wrong. There was a line of pines and hardwood trees that were in the way of the landing strip. If the plane didn’t get its nose up, it would never make it to the runway.
Just as that thought came to him, the plane vanished behind the old three-story mercantile building that now served as an abstract and title company. He then saw and felt an explosion, which was followed by a cloud of smoke and flames that lit the night sky. Along with the shock and dread of the sight, Mack was thinking this was the last catastrophe Ally needed to be witnessing. More important, how close had she been to it?
He slammed his foot to the floorboard and raced through town, even driving through a blinking red light. It crossed his mind to call 911, but it wouldn’t be safe to take his eyes off the road or a hand off the wheel. Besides, unless the whole town had gone deaf plenty of people would be doing that—if Alana couldn’t.
Cold dread made his stomach roil.
God—Ally...
The smoke grew thicker as he sped through downtown, but seconds later, when he came to the intersection of Main and Highway 37 that cut through the northeast Texas community, there was enough of a breeze to thin the smoke to where he caught a glimpse of a patrol car. Was it hers?
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