The Virgin and Zach Coulter

by Lois Faye Dyer

  Zach and Cynthia walked down the aisle between the benches and took seats just as the door opened behind them.

  Cynthia glanced over her shoulder. Jim Meyers walked toward the front of the room, his affable smile in place as he reached the front and took one of the chairs at the smaller table on the right.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” He nodded at the commissioners. “And ladies,” he added as he reached the fourth commissioner before his gaze moved to Cynthia and Zach. His nod was pleasant.

  Cynthia didn’t nod back. Tense with worry, she folded her hands on the table and struggled to appear calm. If Jim Meyers was involved in whatever was going on, it couldn’t be good.

  “I suggest we get right to business.” The commissioner who had greeted them rapped a small gavel on the tabletop. “Thanks to everyone for being here on such short notice. This meeting is called to order. We’re here for a preliminary hearing regarding certain information that has been brought to our attention about usage plans for the Coulter Lodge.”

  The older woman on the far right leaned forward, peering over the tops of her half-glasses at the commissioner. “Sorry to interrupt, Bill, but shouldn’t we give a copy of the evidence to Mr. Coulter?”

  “Thanks for reminding me, Hazel, of course we should.” He slipped two stapled, multipage documents from a paper-clipped stack in front of him. “Mr. Coulter, if you and your associate would like to have a copy…”

  Zach left the table to collect the papers from the commissioner, murmuring his thanks before returning to the table. He handed one of the two documents to Cynthia as he sat down.

  “You will note that the documents are on Coulter Lodge letterhead and contain cost analyses and plans proposing the site be used for conferences with attendee numbers that are far in excess of that allowed by your current permits.”

  Cynthia flipped through the pages, confusion growing.

  “Do you know anything about this?” Zach leaned closer, his voice a low rumble.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “This was a preliminary projection. It didn’t meld with your plans for the Lodge so I never showed it to you and it never went any farther.”

  Zach sat back in his chair. “I think we can clear up the confusion, gentlemen. I’m told this document was prepared as a preliminary analysis and was never intended as a viable future project.”

  “But we’ve been told an organization with over a thousand members has been approached regarding booking their annual conference there in two years.”

  Zach’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been told? By who?”

  “By me,” Jim Meyers interjected. “Actually, as conference chair for the state developer’s association, I was approached by Ms. Deacon during lunch at the Indian Springs Café some weeks ago and then later…” He drew a sheet of paper from the file on the table and handed it to across the aisle to Zach. “I received this letter from the Lodge repeating the interest in booking my organization.”

  Zach skimmed the letter before handing it to Cynthia.

  She read it quickly, then reread, frowning. “I’ve never seen this before. I certainly didn’t write it.”

  “How did you receive this, Meyers?” Zach asked, his deep voice lethal. “Postal service or email?”

  The other man blinked, pausing for a moment before responding. “Postal service—at my office.”

  “Do you have the envelope it arrived in that shows the post office marks?”

  “No.” Meyers’s shrug held regret, but his eyes were sharp with satisfaction. “I’m afraid I tossed it out.”

  “Naturally,” Zach commented. He turned back to the four commissioners, who watched the byplay with interest. “There’s clearly a misunderstanding here that needs clearing up, but let me assure the board we will do so.”

  The bulky gray-haired man holding the gavel gave an abrupt nod. “Good. We’d like to see this resolved, too. But in the interim, we have no choice but to suspend your operating permit for the Lodge until you can provide an explanation. The board doesn’t want to be placed in a position down the road of seeming to sanction an expansion of the creek bank usage at the Lodge. Environmental protection rules are strict and those federal boys are hardcore about enforcing them.”

  “I understand,” Zach assured him. “I suggest we meet back here on Monday afternoon for an update.”

  “Think you can untangle the wires and iron out this mess that fast?” Bill asked, blue eyes shrewd.

  “I hope so,” Zach said shortly.

  “Very well.” Bill rapped the gavel on the table. “Meeting adjourned until 4:00 p.m. on Monday.”

  Chairs scraped back as the commissioners rose, gathered files and chatted among themselves. Jim Meyers stood and strolled forward to join them, asking a question about an upcoming meeting and revising a certain zoning requirement.

  Zach turned to Cynthia, his back to the room, effectively blocking her and preventing anyone from overhearing him.

  “Did you have anything to do with this, Cynthia?” His tone was impersonal.

  “Of course not,” she protested. “I have no idea how this happened.”

  “Did you talk to Meyers about the Lodge?” His green eyes were intent, cool as they focused on hers. “He approached me at the café,” she said forcefully. “He asked me to set up a meeting with you to discuss his buying the Lodge. I refused to do it.”

  “How did he get those projections?”

  “I don’t know,” she said helplessly. “The files are on my laptop, but I always carry it with me, either at home or the office. I can’t imagine how he did it.”

  “And the letter?” Zach asked, his tone businesslike, cool.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, Zach. I truly don’t know.”

  “All right.” He stood, waiting for her to walk ahead of him out of the room. He was silent as they left the building.

  She paused on the sidewalk, looking up at him. “What are you going to do?”

  “Find out how this happened. I’m sure Meyers is behind it, but I can’t prove it until I find out how he did it.” He tugged the brim of his Stetson lower over his brow, his eyes concealed behind the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses. “I won’t be able to make dinner tonight. This is likely to take all weekend so I probably won’t see you until Monday.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing. I don’t want you involved in this. Take the weekend off and I’ll see you Monday.”

  “All right.” Cynthia felt sick. His words were even, with an undercurrent of anger and no hint of the warmth that usually infused his conversation with her.

  He nodded and walked away, headed for the slot where he’d parked his truck down the street. Cynthia turned, moving the opposite direction toward her own car, when someone walked up behind her.

  “I told you, you’d be sorry,” Meyers murmured as he slowed to brush past her, then picked up his steps to move more quickly down the sidewalk.

  Furious with the implication of what had happened in the meeting room, Cynthia registered the malicious satisfaction in his words.

  She could easily believe Jim Meyers was vindictive enough to want to pay her back for having turned down his request to set up a meeting with Zach. In retrospect, she thought as she drove toward home, it was precisely the sort of thing she should have expected of him.

  What she couldn’t understand was how he’d gotten the documents off her computer. The only place the documents were stored were on her laptop and the external, backup hard drive in her bedroom at home. Jim Meyers didn’t have access to either storage so how on earth had he managed to get his hands on those documents?

  He could easily have generated the letter and forged her signature, but again how had he accessed the Lodge letterhead? By the time she climbed into bed later that evening, a full-blown headache pounded at Cynthia’s temples. But she was no closer to answers to the questions that plagued her.

  Zach left Indian Springs and drove back to the Triple C in a cold ra
ge. The urge to grab Meyers and torture him until he confessed the truth was a ball of acid in Zach’s gut.

  He knew he was in no mood to be reasonable.

  Meyers’s insistence that Cynthia had given him the information that had led to the Lodge’s permit being suspended couldn’t be true. He refused to believe she would have sold him out and threatened the survival of the Lodge.

  But the cynic that lived inside him laughed with derision. If his years as a corporate shark had taught him anything, it was that everyone had their price. What if Meyers had offered Cynthia something she couldn’t refuse—like part-ownership in one of his company’s land deals?

  The idea was ludicrous. Even as Zach thought it, he knew it couldn’t be true. But Meyers’s claim that Cynthia had betrayed Zach was insidious, and doubt refused to evaporate, taunting him with the possibility that the woman he loved had betrayed him.

  What the hell?

  Where did that come from? He thought, dumbstruck. When had he decided he loved Cynthia?

  The truck slowed and he realized he’d lifted his foot off the accelerator. He forced himself to focus on driving again, but the biggest portion of his mind was occupied with accepting the truth he’d hidden, even from himself.

  He loved Cynthia. He didn’t know the exact moment it happened. Was it the first time he’d seen her on the street in Indian Springs? Or the first time he’d kissed her? The second time? The night she’d told him she was a virgin?

  Zach shook his head, dazed. He didn’t know when it had happened, but he knew without doubt it was true.

  Did she love him? He frowned. He knew she liked making love with him, and for a woman who’d kept her virginity for so long that had to mean something. He wanted to turn the truck around and drive straight to her house to find out how she felt about him.

  He actually braked before he caught himself. Before they could have that conversation, he needed to clear up the mess Meyers had stirred up.

  He was furious that the land developer was trying to harm the Lodge, and that he’d also try to damage Cynthia’s reputation.

  Nevertheless, he knew using physical force would only play into Meyers’s hands. Zach had to figure out how he’d managed to access Cynthia’s computer records without her knowledge.

  And if I can prove he broke in and stole information, I’m going straight to the cops and have him arrested, he thought grimly.

  He arrived at the ranch and drove to Mariah’s cabin, parked outside and rapped on the door.

  “Where’s Cade?” he asked when Mariah opened the door.

  “In the kitchen. What’s wrong?” she called after him as he strode past her and down the hall.

  Cade was standing at the counter, replacing screws in one of the original wooden cabinet doors. He looked over his shoulder when Zach entered.

  “What’s going on, Zach?”

  “What do you know about Jim Meyers? I want to nail his hide to the barn,” Zach said grimly, anger making his voice harsh.

  Cade left the cabinet unfinished, leaned against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and eyed Zach.

  “Tell me what he’s done.”

  Zach quickly filled Cade in on the meeting with the commissioners.

  “And Meyers said Cynthia gave him the information?” Cade asked.

  “I don’t believe it,” Mariah put in. “I saw Jim Meyers approach Cynthia at the café one day during lunch. But she didn’t look nor act as if she wanted to see him. Or talk to him for that matter,” she added.

  “I think he set her up, but I’m damned if I know how he did it,” Zach growled, frustrated.

  “Then we’ll have to figure it out,” Cade told him calmly, although his eyes were hard. “Who else besides Cynthia had access to the information?”

  “She says nobody,” Zach said. “But there must have been someone.”

  “One of the contractors? Or one of the suppliers for the Lodge?” Mariah asked.

  “We’d better write down names,” Zach told her. “My laptop’s up at the Lodge—have you got paper and pens?”

  Mariah hurried out of the room, and Zach looked at Cade.

  “I’m not sleeping until I know how Meyers did this,” he vowed grimly. “And when I find out, I’m going after him.”

  He didn’t say it aloud, but he knew he wouldn’t rest until Cynthia’s name was cleared and she was safe.

  Then he could ask her to marry him.

  He refused to contemplate her saying anything but yes.

  Cynthia spent the weekend trying to stay busy. She cleaned the house in a whirlwind of activity and late Sunday afternoon, when she could find nothing left that needed washing or polishing, she moved outdoors.

  She raked the nearly spotless flower beds, fertilized the roses, shoveled and spread bark mulch beneath the trees and shrubs. She was inspecting the leaves on the lilac bushes for any brown spots when Natasha strolled out onto the porch.

  “What on earth is wrong with you?” her mother asked as she settled into a wicker rocker, a glass of iced tea in one hand, a glossy fashion magazine in the other. “You’ve barely sat down all weekend and I swear, I don’t think I’ve heard you say twenty words.”

  “Sorry, Natasha,” Cynthia murmured, considering a lilac leaf with a small blemish. Deciding not to remove it, she moved on to the yellow Peace rose next to it.

  “What does that mean? You’re sorry about what—not talking or not sitting still for two days?”

  The faint echo of concern in Natasha’s voice caught Cynthia’s attention and she looked up, past the porch railing and at the chair where her mother sat.

  “I suppose about not talking. I didn’t realize I was being so uncommunicative.”

  “Yes, well…” Natasha waved the magazine impatiently. “You are. And although you’re not exactly a chatterbox, you’re rarely nearly silent, either. What on earth is wrong?”

  Cynthia sighed, frowning at the rose leaf. “There’s a…situation at work. I can’t get my mind off it—I suppose that’s why I haven’t been very good company.”

  “What kind of a situation?” Natasha frowned. “Not more bad boss problems?”

  “No.” Cynthia shook her head in instant denial. “Not at all. Zach’s a great boss.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Natasha insisted, sipping her tea.

  “Someone made a complaint to the zoning commission about the permits for the Lodge.”

  “Someone? Who was it?”

  “I don’t think I should say more until Zach gives me permission to talk about it.” Cynthia realized she’d gripped the green leaf so tightly that it had torn in two.

  “Well, if you ask me,” Natasha said with a sniff. “It sounds like much ado about nothing. The Coulters have enough influence to do whatever they want with the Lodge. Who could stop them?”

  “The zoning commission has the power to rescind permits and block the opening,” Cynthia told her.

  “I’ve heard rumors that Zach plans to open the Lodge and when it becomes popular, sell it and go back to California. Is that true?”

  “I don’t know.” Cynthia wished she knew what Zach’s plans were, but he seemed totally focused on the opening date and hadn’t said anything definitive beyond that time.

  “If he’s not going to stay, it would be better if he sold,” Natasha commented. “Businesses are healthier with a local owner. Absentee owners are always bad for business.”

  Cynthia stared at her mother. “I heard someone else say almost the same thing not so long ago,” she said slowly. “Have you been talking to Jim Meyers, Mother?”

  Faint pink color tinted Natasha’s cheeks. “What if I have?” she asked defensively. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “No reason. I wasn’t aware you knew him.”

  Natasha leaned over and set her tea glass down on the low wicker table, her gaze averted. “I ran into him at the pharmacy when I first arrived.”

  “Are you seeing him?” Cynthia held her breath, hoping against h
ope the answer was no.

  “We’ve gone out.” Natasha shot Cynthia a defensive glare. “I know he’s younger than me, but he’s a lot of fun. There’s nothing wrong with dating a younger man.”

  “Of course not,” Cynthia said patiently. “But he’s the one who made the complaint to the zoning commission about the Lodge. He had access to information that he shouldn’t have.”

  Natasha looked startled, then angry. “He’s never asked me anything about the Lodge—and it’s not as if I know anything I could have told him anyway. You don’t tell me anything about your work except generalities.”

  “No, I don’t.” Her mother was right. She didn’t talk about confidential work matters with anyone but Zach, so Meyers couldn’t have gotten his information from Natasha. She sighed and tugged off her gloves, abandoning the rosebush to climb the porch steps. “But he seems to have a questionable character, Natasha. I hope you don’t get involved with him.”

  “I’m not involved. I told you, we enjoy each other’s company. That’s all.”

  Cynthia sincerely hoped her mother was telling the truth. Because Jim Meyers had shown a nasty, vindictive side that she hoped wouldn’t impact Natasha. “I think I’ll go in and take a shower to wash away the garden dirt, then start dinner. Will you be here or are you going out?”

  “I’m meeting friends at the Black Bear this evening for dinner, then we’re going on to catch a movie.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Cynthia pulled open the screen door. “I’ll be down in a bit.” She stepped inside and heard her mother murmur she’d see her later as she crossed the entryway and headed upstairs.

  As she showered and shampooed her hair, she tried to decide if she should call Zach and tell him Natasha had been dating Jim Meyers. She’d definitely gotten the impression Zach wanted her out of the way, and uninvolved, while he did what was necessary to find out how Jim had managed to get the file.

  Face it, she told herself with brutal honesty, Zach probably thinks you gave Jim Meyers that information.

  She felt sick every time she thought about it. She was the only person who’d had the information in her possession. She had no explanation for how Meyers had managed to gain access to it—and certainly no evidence that could prove she was innocent of aiding him.