by Dinah McCall
It wasn’t anything she didn’t already know, but hearing praise for her father’s dedication to his work made her feel good.
“Thank you for saying that,” she said. “Right now, it means a lot to hear anything positive. It’s been a very rough two weeks.”
Bobby Joe frowned. “Yeah, I heard about old man Walton getting murdered in New York. That’s a bad place. I sure wouldn’t want to be there.”
Ignoring the less than respectful manner in which Bobby Joe had referred to Uncle Frank, she nodded, then shifted her purse to her other shoulder.
“I have one more errand to run before I get back to the hotel, so I’d better be going,” she said. “It was good to see you. Tell your parents I said hello.”
Bobby Joe grabbed her arm. “Wait!”
She winced from the pressure of his fingers and then slid out of his grasp.
“Sorry,” Bobby Joe said. “I just…well, I thought we might—“
Suddenly aware of where the conversation was heading, Isabella interrupted.
“Bobby Joe, right now I’m not up to anything social, but thank you for asking.”
Resisting the urge to run, she turned and headed for the post office. Her skin was still crawling, even after she was inside and standing in line. Something about Bobby Joe’s behavior had made her very uncomfortable, which made no sense. She’d known him all her life.
While she was waiting to purchase her stamps, Bobby Joe was still working his angle. He watched until she went into the post office, then ducked between her car and the pickup truck parked beside it. J After one quick look to make sure no one was watching, he pulled out his knife and squatted beside the back of her car. Without hesitation, he plunged the knife into the rear tire, then stood abruptly, pretending that he’d just picked up something that he’d dropped. After one quick look around to make sure he hadn’t been seen, he stepped up onto the sidewalk and walked up the street. The tire would go flat before she got home, giving him the opportunity for one more go at her. Maybe she would be more sympathetic to his request for a date after he’d come to her rescue.
Jack Dolan was standing in the barber shop and looking out the window when he saw Isabella exit the bank. He thought about stepping outside to say hello when a man hailed her from across the street. Curious, he watched as the man ran to meet her, wondering how she would greet him. The thought that he was setting himself up to watch her be hugged, maybe even kissed, was oddly disconcerting. That bothered him more than a little. He shouldn’t give a damn about her personal life.
However, when the man pulled off his hat and flashed her a smile, Jack took an instant dislike to him.
Their conversation was brief, which was somewhat reassuring, but when Isabella turned to walk away and the man yanked at her arm, he had an urge to intervene. Before he could react, though, Isabella had made her excuses and disappeared.
Jack’s eyes narrowed as the man’s face took on a surly expression. Jack was smiling to himself, thinking that Isabella had obviously turned him down, and then realized the scenario wasn’t over. He saw the big cowboy move toward Isabella’s car, recognized the furtiveness with which he was moving, and wondered what he was going to do next. But when he saw him pull something out of his pocket and then drop down, he suspected the man was up to no good.
“Hey, mister. You still want that haircut?” the barber asked.
Jack hesitate, then shook his head. “I just remembered something I need to do,” he said. “I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure thing,” the barber said, and motioned the next man in line.
The man was gone when Jack came out of the barber shop. He stood for a moment, undecided as to what to do next. He raced across the street to the photography shop and picked up the film he’d left to be developed. Taking pictures of the area was part of his cover, and he wasn’t ready to blow everything yet. Then he headed up the street to where he’d parked his car. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but whatever it was, he wasn’t going to be far behind.
When Isabella came out of the post office with her stamps, it was close to eleven. Plenty of time to get home and help set the tables for any customers who might come for an early lunch. While few of the locals every stayed at the hotel, many of them came to eat. Except for a couple of small cafes and one aging Dairy Queen, it was the only place in the area that served food to the public.
As she drove out of town, she couldn’t help but wish her father was by her side. He had always love the Montana autumns, and although it was only the tenth of September, the nights were already quite cool and the aspens were beginning to turn. Soon their leaves would be a bright splash of yellow against the dark green pines. Snow would appear on the mountain tops, and sunrise would reveal the vast rolling meadows at the foothills to be bright with frost.
Overhead, she saw the great wingspan of an eagle riding the air currents in search of food, and in the distance off to her right she could see a herd of elk grazing at the edge of a clearing. She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, savoring the sense of peace she felt at knowing this was where she belonged.
She was more than halfway home when she began to realize it was becoming difficult to hold the car on the road. Nervously, she braked and pulled over to the shoulder, getting out in time to see the left rear tire going flat.
“Oh great,” she muttered, and kicked at the tire in frustration.
She knew how to change it, but it wasn’t her favorite thing to do. With a muffle curse, she opened the trunk and began removing the jack and the undersized spare. This would mean a trip back to town just to get the tire fixed. Tossing her navy blue jacket inside the car, she rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and grabbed the tire iron. First she would loosen the lug nuts, then she would jack up the car.
She thought about calling Delia just to let her know what had happened and then changed her mind. If she did, Delia would surely tell the uncles, and then they would all show up, taking charge and setting her off to one side, which made no sense. She was definitely younger and stronger than any of them, except possibly her Uncle David, who still presented a commanding figure.
With no more than two lug nuts loose, she heard the sound of an approaching car. Glad to know help was arriving, her relief shifted slightly when she saw who it was.
Bobby Joe Cage emerged from his truck with a smile and a swagger.
“Hey, honey…looks like you’ve had a bit of bad luck.
Isabella stood. “Yes, I did.”
He took the tire iron from her hand. “Let me have that thing. You got no business trying to change a flat. That’s a man’s work.”
Despite his chauvinistic attitude, she was glad for his help and handed him the tool, standing back as he squatted down beside the flat and finished what she’d set out to do.
Within the space of five minutes, he had the tire off, the temporary spare on, and was loading the flat and the jack back into the trunk.
“There you go,” he said lightly, dusting his hands on the seat of his jeans, and flashing he a wide, engaging smile.
Isabella started toward her car to get her purse.
“Thank you so much for your help, Bobby Joe. I really appreciate it, and I’d be happy to pay you for your trouble.”
He sauntered up beside her, and then before she knew what was happening, he had her pinned against her own car. He slid a hand up beneath the fall of her hair and tilted her head just a touch.
“The only payment I need is your sweet kiss,” he said softly, and lowered his head.
Shock couple with anger as Isabella thrust her hands between them, shoving hard against his chest.
“Don’t Bobby Joe! I told you before, I’m not in the mood for—“
He grabbed both her hands and quickly pinned them behind her, still smiling, still coming closer.
“Sure you are, honey. You just don’t know it yet. Trust me. I can make you feel better.”
Isabella’s heart skipped a beat. B
obby Joe wasn’t stopping, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She twisted within his grasp, trying to pull herself free, but was unable to push him away.
“Please, Bobby Joe…I thought you were a friend. Don’t do this to—“
“honey, I haven’t done anything yet,” he whispered, then ground his pelvis against her belly and crushed his lips to hers.
Stunned by his behavior, she struggle to get free, but his grip was firm, and the weight of his body kept her practically immobile. A spurt of fear, couple with the sudden taste of blood in her mouth, made her moan.
Bobby Joe took it as a sign of passion and reached for her breast.
One moment he was all over her, and the next thing she knew he was in the dirt and Jack Dolan was standing over him.
Blood spurted from between Bobby Joe’s fingers as he held them to his face.
“Ju bwoke by dose.”
“Then I’d better try that again,” Jack growled. “Because I was aiming for your neck.”
Isabella rushed between them and grabbed Jack’s arm. “Jack, wait! It’s all right. He didn’t really hurt me.”
Jack turned, unaware that the expression on his face had gone cold or the his nostrils were flared with anger. All he wanted to do was hurt the man the way he’d hurt Isabella. His gaze raked her face, then settled on her mouth. A drop of blood was oozing from her lower lip. The sight of it made him sick to his stomach. If he hadn’t intentionally stayed so far behind, this could have been prevented.
Bobby Joe began shuffling in the dirt, trying to get to his feet. Jack heard him and turned. All he did was point, but it was enough to keep Bobby Joe on his butt. He turned back to Isabella and took a handkerchief from his pocket, then dabbed at the bruise on her lip. When she winced, he felt the pain all the way to his toes.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Your lip is bleeding.”
She blushed and looked away, embarrassed by the whole disgusting episode.
“His teeth, I think…they cut my lip when he tried to—“
“He set you up,” Jack said.
Her eyes widened. “No. I had a flat. He stopped to help and—“
“I watched him from the barber shop. I didn’t know exactly what he’d done until now, but he did something to your tire. Where is it?”
Isabella pointed to the trunk.
Jack gave Bobby Joe a hard look and then strode to the trunk. Within seconds, he found what he’d been looking for.
“It’s been cut.”
Isabella gasped and pushed past Jack to confront the bleeding man on the ground.
“Is that true?” she asked.
Bobby Joe moaned. “I din’t mean to hurt…jus’ wanna’ to—“
“Shut up,” Jack said. “It was pretty damned evident what you wanted. However, I’m going to tell you what you’re going to get. What you did to her tire could have caused an accident. You can tell the rest of your excuses to the police.”
Isabella groaned beneath her breath. The incident was getting uglier by the minute, and if this got out, the repercussions from the community would be humiliating, to say the least.
“No,” she begged. “Let him go.”
Jack pivoted angrily. “He could have killed you.”
She glared at Bobby Joe, who was staring at the dirt.
“He’s not a killer. Just stupid. Let him go, Jack. I want this over.”
Her lips were trembling, as was her voice. The plea in her gaze was as fervent as her words had been. Despite his better judgment, he finally nodded, then turned and kicked the bottom of Bobby Joe’s boot.
“Get up, you sorry bastard, and if you ever come near Miss Abbott again, I’ll find out. And when I do, I’ll make you sorry. Do you understand me?”
Bobby Joe was on his feet, a handkerchief pressed to his nose as he ran for his truck. He paused at the door, then looked back.
“I’b really sorry, Isabella. Din’t mean to—“
“Get going,” Jack said.
Bobby Joe jumped into his truck and sped away without looking back.
Jack turned around to find Isabella sitting on the ground, her head between her knees. Her shoulders were shaking, and he suspected she was crying.
“Well, damn,” he muttered, and pulled her to her feet, then put his arms around her. Half expecting her to argue about the familiarity with which he was holding her, he was surprised when she wilted against him. “Don’t cry, Isabella. It’s over, okay?”
“It’ll never be over,” she said, and then began to cry in earnest.
Jack held her, knowing that her tears had nothing to do with what Bobby Joe had done. It was just the final straw in a life turned upside down.
6
It took all Jack to let Isabella go.
“Get in my car. I’ll take you home.”
Tears were still welling as she turned away in confusion.
“But my car…I can’t just—“
“We’ll deal with it later. Right now you just need to go home.”
The urge to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head was strong, but if she did, she was afraid she would never come out.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “It was no big deal.”
“Then why are you still shaking?” Jack asked.
Isabella frowned. “Okay. Fine. Yes, it rattled me, but I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
Her lip was swelling as they stood there arguing, and the sight of it did things to Jack’s head that didn’t bear investigatin.
“Miss Abbott, I have absolutely no doubt that what you’re telling me is true. But chalk it up to an overdose of macho or manners or whatever you choose to call it, I’m still taking you home whether you like it or not.”
Suddenly Isabella’s resistance was gone. All she could do was drop her head and nod.
He took her by the elbow and led her to his car. Wordlessly, she slid into the seat, then leaned back and closed her eyes. The scent of peppermint and something woodsy drifted past her now, but it disappeared when Jack got in, started the car and turned on the air conditioner.
“Buckle up,” he said quietly.
She did as he asked, then tunneled her fingers through her hair in frustration.
“I can’t believe I let that get so out of hand.”
Jack glanced at her as he pulled around her car and headed for the hotel.
“That man who cut your tire…you known him long?”
“All my life.”
“Have you two ever dated?”
She snorted lightly beneath her breath. “No. I’ve never been that desperate.”
Jack savored the news while stifling a grin. “Since we’re being a little personal here, I can’t help but wonder why a woman like you hasn’t married.”
Isabella turned to look at him, absently noting that his profile was as hard and unforgiving as the surrounding mountains.
“Exactly what is a woman like me?” she asked, and then thought she saw a flash of color on his cheeks.
“You have to know how beautiful you are,” Jack said, and then tapped the brakes as a deer bounded across the road.
“Local hazard,” Isabella said, then added, “And thank you for the compliment.”
Jack nodded. “You’re welcome. So…why aren’t you married?”
“You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
“It goes with the job,” he said without thinking. Then silently cursed his stupidity. He’d been thinking about being a Federal agent when he’d said that.
“Yes, I suppose writers do have to be more persistent than most.”
“Right,” he said, and relaxed slightly, reminding himself to be more careful about what he said, then added, “But you still haven’t answered me.”
Isabella laughed out loud and then winced.
“Ouch,” she mumbled, and pressed her fingers against the cut on her lip. “Lord! The uncles are going to have a fit.”
“As they should,” Jack said.
&nb
sp; Isabella grinned. “My hero,” she said, and this time she knew she saw him blush. “I’m not married because I’ve never been in love, and I happen to believe that the two go hand in hand.”
“Never?”
“Except for Phillip Hanson.”
Even before he asked, Jack decided he didn’t like Phillip Hanson.
“Who’s he?”
“The boy who sat in front of me in second grade. He gave me bubble gum every day for two weeks. I was in love right up until the day Margaret Bailey moved to town. After that, he started giving her what I considered to be my gum, and we fell out of love as quickly as we’d started.”
This time Jack was the one who laughed. “It was his loss.”
Isabella sighed as she clasped her hands together in her lap. The ugliness of what had transpired was fading, and it was all due to Jack Dolan’s kindness.
“Jack?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
He frowned. “If I’d been quicker, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“No, not for that,” she said. “For making me laugh.”
A wry grin tilted one corner of his mouth.
“You’re welcome.”
“We’re almost there,” Isabella said, pointing toward the windshield.
Jack looked past the road to the looming mountain beyond the hotel.
“That’s quite a backdrop,” he said.
“What? White Mountain?”
He nodded.
Her gaze slid from the three-story hotel in the distance to the massive shift of rock beyond it, and she suddenly shuddered. “Yes, magnificent, isn’t it? Although when I was a child, it gave me the creeps.”
It was the last thing Jack would have expected her to say.
“Why?”
“No good reason,” she said, and then shrugged off the chill she’d gotten as she’d looked up toward the craggy peak. “I used to imagine that something wicked lived on the mountain.”
“And now?”
“Now I know that wickedness can be anywhere. Let’s just say I’ve learned to adjust.”