by Devon McKay
“Yeah—it is the best policy.”
“When I was headed here to see you in the hospital, I thought about staying on the bike. I guess I was scared to see you all laid up. And when I first left the ranch, it felt good. I liked being on the bike again. Like old times, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it. Can’t say I’d appreciate visiting you in the hospital much either. And as far as being on the bike, hell, I still get that itch. Why do you think I head to the mountains every September? You think I really need to shoot a buck with all of this home grown hamburger around here?” Doyle shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Hell no. It’s to get away. We all need a little time to ourselves. There’s just one difference. I may get an itching to go somewhere, but I can’t wait to get back here. To see Sandy and the boys. Remember last year I cut my trip short? I was back at the Corral two days earlier than I had planned on being.”
Nate nodded his head, agreeing with his friend’s wise words. He’d been experiencing the same urge, the need to return home, and finding he was short tempered and irritable as of late. His head began to spin with ways to convince Jessie his running days were over.
“By the way, how are your kids?” Doyle intruded on his thoughts.
“Good, the boys are all doing well. Trent’s been keeping them in line. You know, cracking the whip.” He flashed a grin while pretending to whip the air. “William and Rosie have helped. They even want to work with the boys on a full time basis.”
“That’s good, but I meant your kids,” Doyle said, staring at him with an earnest expression. “You’ve done all you can here. There’s no easy way to say this, seeing how I’ve enjoyed your company and all, but it’s time for you to go home, son. ‘Sides, Jessie’s not gonna wait forever.”
Chapter 27
Jessie threw herself into work, taking today’s frustration out on the John Deere, and shoving it into drive a little too rough. The tractor’s gears screeched in response. But even work did little to change her thought pattern especially with the hot afternoon sun baking her skin. She simply couldn’t get rid of the aching feeling Nate left for more reasons other than Doyle’s accident.
She respected he was helping out his friends during their time of crisis, but truth was, Nate was gone because of her. She had seen it in his eyes the night by the creek. Once again, she had demanded more than he could give. He couldn’t love her. Not in the way she loved him. Not the way she needed to be loved.
The truth sent a burning fever through her veins, heating her to the core, hotter than the midday sun. She brushed the back of her arm over her forehead, wiping the sweat off her brow. Hoping a shower would cool her off, she headed back to the house. If she were lucky, it would wash away the painful intensity of Nate’s honesty that kept haunting her.
A glance at her watch told her it would have to be a quick shower. She had less than an hour to be at the Lucky Horseshoe, which just so happened to house another thorn in her side.
Alan.
The man had been acting so weird. Insisting upon helping her on every little task she did, refusing to accept no for an answer. She caught him staring at her constantly, or he followed her around the bar, and worse, home from the bar at the end of every shift.
Alan was a nice guy, a normal guy with a huge crush. What was her problem? She should be flattered. He was handsome and sweet—perhaps a little too sweet. He cared about her. And he was still here.
Alan could love her. He had no ghosts. No demons chasing him. He wouldn’t pull away as soon as she got a little too close.
He wanted to one day run his father’s bar. And her. He wanted her. His attention should please her. Not repel her.
Jessie parked the tracker and rushed through the house to her bedroom. Tearing off her clothes, she jumped into the shower, running the lukewarm water.
Maybe I should give Alan a chance, she contemplated while pouring shampoo into the palm of her hand. Nate was never coming back.
Never coming back?
Her chest became heavy, and she struggled with breathing.
Despite several doubts, the thought had never entered her mind. No, the truth was, she had contemplated him not returning thousands of times. It had just never cemented itself there.
She had always thought he’d come back for her. Now, for the first time, she didn’t think he would.
Jessie finished her shower, absently going through the motions while her mind churned.
William and Rosita had been talking about staying at the boy’s ranch. Permanently. She’d overheard this as they presented the idea to her father over a plateful of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. A dinner she’d missed, not in the mood for company. Life at the Walker Ranch had been a good fit for the couple. They seemed happy.
Now, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. They must have been talking to Nate, making plans for their future by taking over his ranch. Evidently, she and the kids didn’t fall into the category of plans for his future.
Her heart sank.
He wasn’t coming back this time.
Dazed, Jessie walked to her car, arriving at the Lucky Horseshoe in less than fifteen minutes, although she had no recollection of driving at all.
The first part of her shift went by quick even though she had no idea how the minutes raced by. Numb, as if every part of her were paralyzed, she passed the night, her head repeating one thought—Nate’s not coming back.
Alan’s gaze mimicked her every move, chasing her now as she headed to get a case of beer for the bar. Jessie cursed under her breath. She wasn’t in the mood to placate him now.
Thankful for the solace of the storeroom, she exhaled a relieved sigh. Finally, she’d escaped Alan’s stare long enough to have a moment to herself.
After a few minutes and a few deep breathes, she grabbed the case of beer and placed it on the dolly. As she turned to leave, Alan stepped into the storeroom, blocking her exit. Startled, a scream of surprise escaped her.
For the first time, his build didn’t seem quite as lanky as she had thought it was as he filled the doorway. Nor did the expression on his face appear comforting. In fact, the nasty scowl he wore told her a different story.
She stared into his eyes, catching a glimpse of...of what? Then it dawned on her—animosity. Long gone was the gentle, caring boy next door. Instead, a stranger stood in his place, obstructing her escape.
A shiver shot up her spine and her senses immediately sharpened, placing her on edge. She tore her gaze away from his to search for another exit, her view focusing on the slim gap of light between his body and the doorframe. Could she manage to slip through?
What was wrong with her? A feeling of shame washed over her as her stare returned to his face. This was Alan. A man who cared about her. Hadn’t he proved that much? For Pete’s sake, the man even followed her home at night just to make sure she got there safely.
Then why did she suddenly feel like the prey?
Chapter 28
“If you’ll let me pass, I’ll go stock these bottles and we can close on time tonight,” Jessie said in a sweet voice, trying to bypass Alan as she struggled with the awkward dolly.
“We’re already closed,” he stated with a somber expression. “I locked the door five minutes ago.”
His statement hung in the air. The hair on the back of her neck raised straight up as goose bumps covered her flesh.
Locked up? Already? She stole a glance at her wristwatch. It wasn’t even 10:30pm. They never closed this early. She stared into his face, noting the strange contortion of his unsmiling mouth.
“Very funny,” she said, attempting an upbeat tone, despite the tightness pulling at her chest. The fear returned and this time she embraced it without excuses. She didn’t know this man.
“I need to stock the beer and get out of here on time tonight. My dad will be waiting up. You know how he is.” The lie sounded false even to her own ears, and a sudden wave of anxiety swam through her.
“Now, Jessie. I know
your dad hasn’t been waiting up for you. Do you take me for some kind of fool?” Alan turned around and closed the door. The sound of the lock catching echoed in the small space.
With his back to her, she scanned her options. The storeroom and cooler had been built in a U-shape for easy access. There were three doors which provided an entrance into the store room, the way they’d entered, the restocking slider which led outside, and the cooler, which actually had two doors, one granting admittance into the freezer and one on the other side as an exit into the hall.
Alan turned abruptly back to her, and she paused, refocusing her direction to him.
“If I paid attention to details...which I do,” he said in a forced tone, shredding her with a taunting glare. “The last two nights, your father didn’t even bother to leave the porch light on for you.”
The dry lump forming in her throat made it difficult to swallow. Alan was right. There had been a time when her dad waited up for her, but now, he often went to sleep as early as the rest of the household. Jessie doubted anyone would notice if she came home late...or at all.
A strange glint lit Alan’s eyes, and a shiver of apprehension tingled up her spine. He knew this. All of a sudden, his odd request to follow her home made sense. The deceptive man hadn’t escorted her because he cared about her safety, he’d been studying her routine. Preparing for this moment.
Frightened, she took a step back, taking the hand truck with her. He placed one of his hands on the dolly, stopping her retreat and she released her hold.
With a violent shove, he pushed the dolly out of his way. As it skidded across the floor, the wheels squealed in protest and the case of beer fell on its side. Bottles clanked together and a pool of frothy beer foamed around the overturned crate, all unheard by the outside world. No one would hear her scream either.
Her gaze returned to the restock door with a small glimpse of hope. The idea was quickly squandered. It would be impossible to unlock and raise the door before he reached her. Which left only the cooler off to the right side of the room. With her luck, she’d probably freeze to death before someone found her. She spared a glance back at Alan. Noting his ruthless stare, the risk would be worth it.
He took a menacing step closer, and she retreated, her backside cornered against the hard surface of the concrete wall.
“Oh wait, that’s right. You do take me for some kind of fool, don’t you? Why else would you play me?”
Jessie held her breath in fear, trying in vain to calm herself down. It wasn’t as if she could breathe anyway. Not with the panic racing like a wild horse through her veins. She was trapped. And he was unstable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alan,” she spoke in a calm tone, not sure where she pulled the level-headed composure from. “Now, I need to get back to work. I’d like to get home at a reasonable time,” she stated, attempting to slide past him.
His hand shot out and the hard resistance of the wall slammed against Jessie’s backside, stealing a shallow breath. Her body absorbed the pain, spreading evenly through her extremities.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he snarled, his contorted mouth a mere inch from her face. She inhaled the strong scent of alcohol and turned her head away in disgust. He grabbed her jaw in a painful grip, squeezing firmly as he tilted her chin upward. Jessie attempted to turn away, avoiding the eye contact he was forcing, but his hold tightened.
Panic spread through her limbs like a rampant river as another realization shook her world. Alan was enjoying this. He liked the fear he incited.
Jessie sucked in a quick breath, wishing the thought untrue. It wasn’t. She held his gaze reading the spiteful truth in his steady stare as she swallowed back a wave of nausea.
“I’ve been waiting a long time, Jessie. Or do you prefer Jess?” He spat the words more than said them. Each laced with contempt. “Or perhaps you like tramp. Although, there is my personal favorite...slut.”
Jessie gasped in shock. He leaned in closer, reeking of the rot gut whiskey Ed kept on the back shelf of the bar. The harder the whiskey, the meaner the drunk. She shuddered, recalling a quip the barkeep loved to say while restocking the shelf. She prayed she wouldn’t find out.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, chasing a man around like some kind of love-sick idiot. Throwing yourself at him every time he came sniffing. Did you think no one would see you spread your legs for him?”
He watched us?
His fingers gripped her chin even harder and a cry of pain escaped.
“Well, I guess he showed you, didn’t he?” The crazed man released a cruel laugh. “Yes, he certainly showed you...leaving town again the first chance he got.”
Jessie winced, the cutting precision of Alan’s words more painful than his grasp. She wrestled free of his tight grip, searching the storeroom for some kind of weapon, something she could use against him in order to escape.
Nothing. All the bottles were taped in boxes. Suddenly, she remembered the box cutter on the shelf by the door. Her gaze scanned the wall, making contact with the silver handle.
Alan followed her stare, releasing another chuckle. “Don’t even think about it,” he snapped, drawing her back to him again.
His eyes were cloudy, the blue so light it appeared almost a milky color. She didn’t know this man. He was unrecognizable with his wild eyes and angry glare. Why hadn’t she seen this side of him before?
“All I wanted was you. I would have even taken those brats of yours in,” he admitted, his face distorted by a hideous leer.
His ugly words tore her out of her panic long enough to think straight. She needed to get home to her children.
Seizing the moment, Jessie attempted to reason with him. “That’s what I want, Alan,” she said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “I want you to be their daddy. My kids, they need a daddy. Someone I can rely on,” she lied, praying her words were convincing. “Not like Nate, he’s a complete waste of time. I need someone...someone like you.”
For a moment, Jessie thought her act worked as she noticed a slight softening in his expression. But it was the calm before the storm.
In an instant, his face turned bright red, disfiguring his boy-next-door looks into one of a madman. “Lies! Do you take me for some kind of a fool?”
Alan grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard before shoving her into the wall again. Her head suffered the brunt of the blow.
Clamping her eyes shut, she tried to blink away the bright lights exploding like fireworks.
He held her firmly against the brick, the fixed surface a painful reminder of her bleak predicament. She had little chance of escape.
Jessie panicked, asphyxiated by the scent of sweat, alcohol and Old Spice. Gasping for breath, her lungs rebelled, and she began to hyperventilate.
His mouth assaulted hers with a brutal kiss, and she pounded her fists against his chest, still struggling for air. His tongue forced its way in, invasive and probing, tasting of sour whiskey.
She fought him off with everything she had in her, kicking and lashing out with closed fists, but her attempts had little effect on him.
His fierce grip grabbed a hold of both her arms, jarring her against the wall again. The grimness of her situation took over again.
This man was going to kill her.
“Where is your hero now?” he mocked. “I knew one day you would be mine.”
His lips lowered to hers again, and she bit him as hard as she could. Alan yelped in surprise and the pain seemed to fuel his fire. Jessie screamed as he took her ponytail and wrapped it around his hand, pulling her into him as he kissed her again.
The metallic taste of copper filled her mouth, and she couldn’t tell if it was her blood or his. A sudden, pain-filled blow struck the side of her head. For a moment, there were stars, and her head spun as darkness swallowed the light.
Chapter 29
Jessie woke abruptly, her cheek stinging as Alan slapped her again.
Struggling
to stay awake, she attempted to get away, but couldn’t move her hands. He stood above her with a lecherous expression on his face, licking his lips.
She followed his gaze, seeing her T-shirt in tatters, ripped straight down the front. Her breasts were exposed and the silk lace of her bra did little to hide the dark circles of her nipples.
“Now, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” Alan spat a mouthful of blood. “I had this all perfectly planned, but you, Jessie...you’ve been a bit of a wild card.” He paced back and forth in front of her. “Yes, a wild card. I tried everything. Being your friend, your gallant protector, even going as far as killing your steers and having Greenwood dump a crap load of snakes on your property. I even paid him to burn down your barn in hopes you’d run to me for comfort.” The distorted sneer returned to his lips. “But you didn’t even realize I was there. No, you only had eyes for him. It should have been me. I was supposed to be your hero.”
The throbbing in her head was taking its toll on her, and she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Her world was drifting in and out. Alan killed her steers? But...there was more. Jessie tried to focus on what he said, picking up on key words.
Snakes.
Barn.
Fire.
He stopped pacing and returned to a kneeled position in front of her; his breath reeked of alcohol. She fought against the spinning room, focusing on his dark stare, now the color of cold steel. Strange, she had never noticed his eyes changed color, favoring the less ominous, baby blue shade.
Jessie managed to lift herself to her feet as she heard a faint chuckle from the man she’d thought she knew. She raised her hands in front of her to prevent another attack and was yanked forward by the knotted twine binding her wrists. Numbly, she stared at the rope, her thoughts muddied and confused. Why would he tie her up?
A terrifying concept stabbed through her like a sharp icepick. Her head snapped up, and she gazed into his evil stare. Was this was all part of the plan?
****
Doyle was right, Nate thought as he raced through the night to get back home. He needed to get back to Jessie, to his kids. He needed to go home.