“Luke wants to go with me.”
She huffed under her breath and pushed to her feet, weaving like a drunk until she caught her balance. Zach almost shot up from his chair to grab her arm.
“All right, fine. I’ll pack some things,” she said over her shoulder. “But I think it’s silly for us to go out there when we’d be perfectly okay staying right here.”
She was about to collapse. If she wanted to call that “perfectly okay,” he wouldn’t argue as long as she went with him to the ranch so he could keep an eye on her. Zach knew a breakdown was coming. As strong as she was, she’d been through hell, and a dozen different emotions were going to start pummeling her. Grief, guilt, and what-ifs always reared their ugly heads after the first shock wore off. And did she really think tomorrow would be easier?
As Mandy tossed stuff into a satchel she’d set on the bed, she struggled to keep her thoughts straight. She ended up with two nightshirts, had to return to the bathroom for her toothbrush and moisturizer, which she’d set out on the vanity, and then stood over the bag, trying to think what she should take to wear in the morning.
Zach appeared and rifled through the bag. “You’ll need fresh underwear.”
He began opening her drawers. Mandy didn’t have the energy to object. He returned with a pair of her panties in one fist and a pair of jeans and a knit top tucked under his other arm. “You want a fresh bra? You worked up a sweat today.”
A bra? Were they really having this conversation? She’d never discussed her undergarments with a man, and she didn’t want to start now. Zach tossed what he’d collected into the satchel and began fishing through her underwear again. She kept everything in neat piles. He was scooping and dropping garments like a man sorting through beans to find rocks.
He turned, dangling a lacy bra from his forefinger. “You like this one?”
Mandy tried to focus. What was to like or not like about a bra?
“Sam has favorites and standbys. You want this one or another one?”
“That one will be fine.”
He returned to the bed and shoved the bra inside her satchel. Mandy noticed that her knees came even with the top edge of the mattress and his were several inches higher. Why her brain got stuck on that, she didn’t know, but suddenly his knees became her only focus.
He caught her staring. “What?” He glanced down and checked to make sure his fly was zipped. “Is something wrong?”
Everything was wrong. She’d just found out her mom had been brutally murdered, and all she could think about were Zach’s knees. “It’s nothing.” She forced her gaze up and found herself staring with the same intensity at a button on his shirt. Her brain felt as if someone had zapped it with a hot wire. “I just don’t seem to be tracking very well.”
He closed the bag, lifted it in one hand, and grasped her arm. “That’s why I’m here, honey, to do the tracking for you.”
Luke was waiting for them in the kitchen. A bag similar to Mandy’s sat on the floor near his feet. Rosebud stood at his side. “I’m ready,” he said.
The next thing Mandy knew, Zach was helping her into her parka. Her arms felt like overcooked fettuccini, limp and unresponsive. She tried to stick one into a jacket sleeve, missed the hole, and aimed again. Zach finally took over, got her into the coat, and zipped it up. Then she was in the SUV with no memory of having walked there. Luke sat in back so he could reach over the seat to pet Rosebud, who rode in the cargo area.
Mandy tried to relax during the drive, but as exhausted as she was, her nerve endings seemed to be electrified, a hum of tension zinging through her body. The thirty-minute ride passed quickly. As bleary as her vision was, she knew they’d reached the ranch when the SUV started jolting over the rutted road.
“I need to grade this damned thing,” Zach said. “These potholes are getting deep enough to swallow a Volkswagen.”
Zach was growing truly concerned about Mandy. He’d never seen her like this. Come to think of it, he couldn’t recall ever having seen anyone in this shape. Was it shock? She seemed to be off somewhere in another dimension, not hearing half of what was said to her, staring blankly at stuff, and looking . . . hell, the best way he could describe it was bloodless and limp. He needed to get some food into her. And maybe he should call a doctor. She’d been through a lot today. A sedative might level her out.
When they’d all exited the car, Luke asked if he could take Rosebud for her potty run. Zach considered the request and vetoed it. “Sorry, partner, it’s dark.”
“Can’t Rosebud see well in the dark?”
“Well, yes, she has reflective retinas that give her great night vision, but—” Zach broke off, getting Luke’s point before he made it. “Okay. Go for it,” he said reluctantly. It was very dark in the countryside after the sun went down. It was difficult for Zach to wrap his mind around the fact that Luke could navigate the ranch proper just as easily now as he did in broad daylight. “I’ll get Mandy settled and then help Rosebud up the steps.”
Zach got Mandy into the house. Literally. She moved like a robot that needed a recharge. He deposited her on a chair, gazed down at her white face, and then whipped out his cell phone to call the Harrigan family physician. He got the answering service. Doc was out of town and another doctor was standing in. Mandy wasn’t one of Doc’s regular patients, and the guy on call refused to see her, an infuriating turn of events Zach would address later. Next he called the ER and got a nurse with a voice so nasal, she sounded as if she had a clothespin clipped over her nose. She was no help. If Zach felt his friend was in shock, she recommended that he bring her in.
Sighing, Zach broke the connection. After studying the exhausted slump of Mandy’s shoulders, he decided a three-hour stint in the ER waiting room and God only knew how long in a treatment cubicle was not what she needed right now. Zach speed-dialed Sam’s house.
Tucker, often on call, answered on the second ring. “Hey, Zach, I hear you had quite an unusual day.”
Zach stepped into the living room so Mandy wouldn’t overhear the conversation—not that he believed she was connecting with the world around her at the moment. He quickly explained his reason for calling.
Tucker groaned. “I don’t treat people, Zach. I understand that she’s been through a terrible ordeal, and I’d love to help, but there’s not really anything I can do.”
“I just hate to make her sit in the ER waiting room for hours. She’s been through enough for one day. Do you have any sedatives that are safe for humans?”
“I do, but I’m not going to risk my license by giving her any. I’m sorry, but if she had a reaction, it’d be my ass on the line. We’re talking a controlled substance.”
Zach made a fist in his hair. “What can I do for her, then?”
Tucker huffed softly. ”Well, if it were Sam, I’d give her a couple of stiff drinks and screw her brains out. No matter how upset she is, that always puts her out like a light.”
Zach rested his shoulder blades against the wall. “I hear you, but the second part won’t fly. Mandy and I haven’t taken our relationship to that level yet.”
“Damn, man, you’re slipping. I thought you took every relationship to that level.”
“Not anymore, and even if I did, I wouldn’t with Mandy. She’s different.”
Tucker fell silent for a moment. “Uh-oh. Sounds serious.”
“It is—for me, at least.”
“Don’t get your heart broken, partner.”
The warning came too late. Zach was already in too deep to wade back out. He thanked his brother-in-law for the advice and broke the connection. When he turned to go back to the kitchen, he stiffened in surprise to see Luke and Rosebud standing in the archway.
“How did you get back in the house?” he asked.
Luke grinned broadly. “I just let her bring me in. She did awesome.”
Zach settled a bewildered gaze on his horse. “She went up the steps?”
“And cued me to go up them,” Luk
e informed him.
“I’ll be.” Zach crouched in front of the mini. “Have you been playing me, girlfriend?”
Rosebud met his gaze with innocent bewilderment, but Zach wasn’t fooled. When had the little stinker mastered steps? Maybe she liked the extra attention Zach gave her whenever they went up and down a flight.
Luke signaled the mini to return to the kitchen. He stood near Mandy, his head angled, his expression concerned. “Mands?”
“What?” she asked hollowly.
Luke said to Zach, “She doesn’t sound so good.”
Zach agreed and stepped to his liquor cupboard to get the bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Exhausting Mandy with lovemaking might be out of the question, but he could definitely relax her with a couple of drinks. Decaffeinated Irish coffee, coming right up. While he added water to the reservoir and ground the decaf beans, Luke fumbled with Rosebud’s guiding gear to get it off. Zach almost went to help but then decided against it. Luke might take longer to accomplish the task, but he’d get it done, and Zach sensed it might be time to start backing off. The young man and the little horse were nearly inseparable now. Rosebud still wasn’t completely trained, but she was getting close. She and Luke had to start figuring it out by themselves.
Mandy wanted nothing to do with the eggs, bacon, and toast that Zach set in front of her. She felt separated from everything by a foggy wall, and on her side, thoughts and feelings were slamming through her like fists.
“If you can’t eat, at least drink the coffee.”
Mandy lifted the cup, got a whiff, and set it back down. “There’s whiskey in it.”
“For purely medicinal purposes,” he replied. “At least try to drink it.”
It was the strangest thing. She could hear Zach’s voice, but she had to search through the blur to find him. When she did, his face swam out of focus.
“How do you think she died?” she whispered. The question had been tormenting her, slipping in and out of her head like a knife. “Did she suffer? Was it quick? I heard no gunshot. Did Dad stab her? Strangle or suffocate her?” Dimly, she was aware of tears streaming down her cheeks. “Why didn’t I go downstairs and try to help her?”
Zach’s hard, warm hands curled over hers. “Mandy, don’t do this to yourself.”
“But she died down there. She died, Zach. While I hid in a closet, my mother died.”
He tightened his hold on her fingers. “Sweetheart, I know that can’t be easy to accept, but you were a kid, doing what your mom told you. Can’t you turn loose of it?”
“No.” And Mandy couldn’t. Her mom had loved her and Luke so much. She would have walked barefoot through fire to keep them safe. Zach was right: Their mother wouldn’t blame her daughter, but that didn’t absolve Mandy from her own thoughts. It half killed her to think that she had cowered at the far end of that closet while her mother was murdered. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to turn loose of it.”
Zach released her hands and pushed the coffee mug toward her. “Just a sip or two. It’ll help, Mandy. Do it for me, please?”
Luke came to sit across from his sister. “Drink it, Mands. If you don’t, I will.”
Mandy blinked and tried to focus on her brother’s face. “Over my dead body.”
The minute she spoke, her father’s voice ricocheted through her head. Oh, God, oh, God. Those had been the last words her mother had ever heard. Had her father been strangling her even then? Or had he been gripping the handle of a knife that he’d just driven into her heart?
Sick. Mandy leaped up from the chair, her throat convulsing. Where was the bathroom? She’d used it once and tried to move in that direction, but the contents of her stomach erupted before she took two steps. She spewed bile into her cupped hands. Little came up, but still her body convulsed, her stomach twisting to purge itself. Then Zach was there, mopping her hands with a wad of damp paper towels, his deep voice curling around her.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just get it up.”
There was nothing more to bring up, but even so, Mandy couldn’t stop gagging. Pain ripped through her. She’d hidden in a closet while her mother was murdered. How would she ever forgive herself?
Chapter Nineteen
Zach got Mandy cleaned up and safely sitting in a chair again. Spine curved, hands limp on her lap, she let her head fall forward, her shoulders jerking with sobs.
“What’s happening?” Luke asked with a frantic edge, his hands white-knuckled on the crook of the cane. “Is she still vomiting?”
Zach checked his watch. “She’s just having a hard time. If I get Rosebud harnessed, can you handle getting ready for bed by yourself and bunk on the living room sofa? That’ll be easier than trying to get you upstairs. Right now I need to focus on Mandy.”
“Sure.” Luke angled his head sharply to one side. In a voice pitched barely above a whisper, he said, “I wish I could beat the hell out of him for doing this to her.”
Zach shared the feeling. He couldn’t fathom how he might feel if his mom had been murdered while he’d hidden in a closet. Much like Mandy did, he guessed, going over the things he should have done and beating up on himself for failing to do them. He wished he knew something to say that would wipe thoughts like that from her mind.
Zach got Rosebud haltered and handed Luke his satchel. “Just tell her to find the bathroom. When you’re ready for bed, tell her to find the living room and then the sofa. Take her gear back off before you hit the sack.”
Leaving Mandy while he found bedding and a pillow and made up the sofa for Luke was one of the hardest things Zach had ever done. But later, her first worry would be for her brother. Like mother, like daughter. Zach wanted to be able to tell her that Luke had been fed and was already in bed, fast asleep.
When Zach returned to the kitchen, Mandy was sitting with her head in her hands. He crouched in front of her, grasped her arms, and pressed her erect. “Better now?”
Face swollen from crying, she nodded. “I can’t go back and change any of it. And even if I could, would I want to? You’re probably right. If I’d gone downstairs and Dad had killed me, what would have become of Luke?”
“Your father would have led him to believe that both you and his mother had abandoned him,” Zach answered without hesitation, “and he would have mistreated him.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “That would have been so horrible. Luke was only four and would’ve been completely helpless.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “It’s easy for me to think I should have done this or that, but for Luke’s sake, maybe it happened the way it was supposed to and, without a doubt, the way Mama wanted it to.”
Zach had never admired Mandy more than he did then. He had expected to be busy for hours, holding her, mopping up her tears. But she was pulling herself back from the edge without his help, reasoning her way past the guilt to focus on the realities.
“You’re one hell of a lady, Mandy Pajeck.”
She wiped under her eyes and tried to smile. “I don’t know about that. But it’s definitely time for me to stop with all the theatrics. I’ll only make myself sick.”
“Maybe you could try to eat,” he suggested.
She gazed dully at the food he’d prepared for her. Zach stepped around her to grab the plate. “Let me give this a zap to warm it back up.”
“I’m really not hungry.”
“I know, but you need to eat. You worked your tail off yesterday and today with very little nourishment. Once you take a bite, your stomach may wake up with a vengeance.”
“Where’s Luke?”
“In the living room, asleep on the sofa,” Zach told her.
“Did he eat?”
“Like a horse.” Talk, Zach. Keep her distracted. “It must cost you a small fortune to keep food in the cupboards.”
“He does have a healthy appetite.”
Her voice sounded steadier. Zach turned to study her and was pleased to see a hint of color returning to her lips. When he set her plate back on the table, she ni
bbled on a piece of crisp bacon, took a few swallows of the milk, and then reached for the mug.
“I hate the smell of whiskey,” she said as she took a sip. Her eyes widened at the taste. “My stars, this is actually good.”
“Irish coffee, one of my father’s specialties.” Zach sat across from her and tipped his chair onto its back legs. “It’s his remedy for nearly everything: a bad cold, frazzled nerves, insomnia, chills—you name it, and he fixes you Irish coffee.”
He smiled to himself as she tried the eggs, and then bit into her toast. “Well, his recipe is delicious.” She drank from the mug again. “Maybe it will help me sleep.” She forked eggs into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “You’re right. Now that I’m eating, my stomach is waking up.”
When she’d cleaned her plate, finished the milk, and emptied the mug, Zach made her another Irish coffee. She didn’t protest when he set the second round in front of her. He talked with her while she drank it—about the weather, his horses, Rosebud and Luke, and any other damned thing he could think of to keep a conversation rolling. With any luck, the small amounts of whiskey would help her to get a good night’s rest.
After Mandy finished the coffee, Zach collected her overnight satchel and led her upstairs to a guest room. The bed furnishings and curtains fairly screamed “expensive,” and the adjoining bathroom was the largest Mandy had ever seen. The walk-in shower would have accommodated a full-grown horse, and the bathtub looked deep and wide enough to swim in. Zach indicated a switch in the tub with a jerk of his thumb.
“Chromotherapy,” he said. “You might want to use it.” Seeing her blank look, he continued, “It’s underwater mood lighting. If you punch the button twice, it changes colors. Light the candles, turn out the ceiling lights, and enjoy. There’s an in-line heater that keeps the water at any temperature you choose. You can lie back, close your eyes if you like, and let the whirlpool jets massage all the tension right out of you.”
That sounded divine to Mandy. Zach showed her where the butane lighter was to ignite all the candles placed strategically around the tub, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and said, “Good night, Mandy. My room is two doors down on the right. If you need anything, just knock. I’m a pretty light sleeper.”
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