Jessie's Child

The quiet surroundings had always had the power to soothe and relax her but tonight the room didn’t calm her worries about Rowdy and Zach. Even after she’d showered, dressed in a cotton tank top and loose pajama bottoms, climbed into bed and switched off the lamp, her mind continued to whirl with all the possible ramifications of Zach’s return to Wolf Creek.

When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of Zach and the first time he’d come to her rescue. It was during the summer she was ten and he was already a tall, lanky teenager of fifteen….

The first summer after her grandfather died seemed longer and hotter than usual. Jessie and her best friend, Sarah, tried to keep cool by swimming in the stock pond and spending Saturday afternoons in the air-conditioned theater.

Following a movie one Saturday, Jessie and Sarah stopped at Muller’s Candy Shoppe before meeting Sarah’s mother at the library. They were contemplating a purchase when the string of bells hanging on the door jingled loudly and two teenage boys entered the nearly empty store.

“Well, well, if it isn’t a McCloud. Heard from your convict brother lately?”

Jessie stiffened at the jeering tone in Lonnie Kerrigan’s voice. Determined to ignore him, she resolutely stared at the glass case and the rainbow display of saltwater toffee inside. She wished Mr. Muller hadn’t stepped into the back room. The bell she could use to call him back was located at the far end of the counter by the cash register, too far away for her to reach.

“What’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue?”

He brushed past her, bumping her in the process.

“Don’t pay any attention to him, Jessie,” Sarah urged.

Jessie glanced sideways and saw that her friend’s eyes were fearful as she watched the blocky teenager on Jessie’s other side.

“Yeah, kid. Don’t pay any attention to me.” Lonnie leaned against the candy display, grinning with malicious enjoyment at Sarah’s concern.

“I won’t,” Jessie said, filled with hate and loathing for the bully. “You’re not worth it.”

“Is that right?” She heard the sneer in his voice. “All you McClouds are the same. You’re a little young, but I’m sure it won’t be long before your brother Luke joins Chase in jail.” He waved expansively at the interior of the candy shop. “I’m surprised you’re allowed in here without supervision. Wonder if Mr. Muller knows he’s got a future criminal in his store?”

Goaded beyond endurance, Jessie turned to face him, furious. “You’re a pig, Lonnie Kerrigan. You should be in jail, not Chase. You’re the criminal—you and your whole family!”

She glared up at him, daring him to do anything about her harsh words. At ten, she was several feet shorter than the seventeen-year-old and he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds. She didn’t care. Three months earlier, she’d watched as Chase was handcuffed and driven away from their grandfather’s funeral in a police car. She blamed Lonnie for her brother’s absence and she hated him with a depth and passion she’d never before felt in her short life.

A blond teenage girl standing near the door giggled at Jessie’s words and Lonnie flushed, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer, bending toward Jessie.

“You little bitch.”

Her mother would have washed his mouth out with soap for using that word. Jessie stuck out her chin and refused to back down.

He grabbed her arm and twisted. The pain was excruciating but Jessie wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead, she glared harder, blinking back tears.

“Let her go.”

Lonnie’s gaze left hers and he looked over her head at someone behind her. His mouth tightened before he sneered again. “Stay out of it, Zach. This is none of your business.”

“I’m making it my business. She’s just a kid. Let her go.”

“You taking her place?”

“If I have to.”

Lonnie laughed and his grip loosened. He pushed Jessie and she stumbled sideways against the glass display case.

“Hey, none of that in here! You two take it outside if you have to fight,” Mr. Muller said firmly.

Jessie glanced over her shoulder. The gray-haired, heavyset owner of the store left the doorway to the back room and leaned over the counter, frowning at Lonnie and Zach.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lonnie snarled. “We’re goin’.”

Zach spun on his heel and stalked out of the shop, followed by Lonnie, his friend and the two teenage girls.

“Come on.” Jessie grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her across the room and out the door in time to see the teenagers disappear into the alley. She and Sarah ran to the corner of the building and stopped, peering around the edge.

Lonnie was taller, heavier and had a longer reach than his younger cousin, who at fifteen was still rangy with lighter muscle on his fast-growing body. Within minutes, blood was oozing from Zach’s nose and welling from a cut on his lip, his right eye was red and bruised. He didn’t stop, however, and no matter how many times Lonnie knocked him down, he got up and kept swinging. By the time a police officer, probably called by Mr. Muller, arrived to break up the fight, both boys were bleeding from their faces and knuckles. Their white T-shirts were ripped, smeared with dirt and stained with blood spatters.

“Wow, Jessie,” Sarah said in awe as the policeman marched the battered combatants down the street toward the police station. “He stood up for you and made Lonnie leave you alone. Why did he do that?”

“I don’t know. He’s a Kerrigan. He probably just likes to get into fights and beat up people.” Jessie was pleased that her voice sounded unconcerned and dismissive. But she was secretly amazed that Zach Kerrigan had kept Lonnie from hurting her. Why? Could he possibly dislike Lonnie and his bullying as much as she did?

Jessie woke, struggling through clinging shreds of sleep and dreams. She sat up, rubbing her hands over her face in an effort to clear away the images of her ten-year-old self watching Zach fight Lonnie in the dust of the alley behind Muller’s Candy Shoppe.

The residue of half-remembered conflicted emotions churned, accompanied by the memory of Zach’s battered face on that long-ago afternoon.

Had he saved her that day because he was being kind to a child being bullied? Or had he simply taken advantage of an excuse to fight Lonnie? It was no secret that the Kerrigans often exploded into physical violence.

She tipped the bedside clock so she could read the time.

“Two o’clock? Ugh.” She lay down, punching her pillow. She had to be at the office by seven and made a mental note to brew extra-strong coffee in the morning.

Chapter Two

Zach Kerrigan slid out of the booth in the back of the coffee shop and stood, settling his straw cowboy hat on his head as he walked to the front of the restaurant. He’d been absent from Wolf Creek for years but several ranchers seated at the booths and tables nodded hello as he passed. He returned the silent greeting, recognizing a few of the older men.

He stopped at the front counter, waiting for the waitress who’d served him to hurry forward. She stepped behind the cash register and he handed her his check and several bills.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” She flashed him a quick, appreciative smile. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

“Not exactly,” he drawled. “I grew up here.”

“Really?” She cocked her head, eyeing him curiously. “Why haven’t I seen you in the restaurant before?”

“I’ve been away.” Zach slipped his wallet into his jeans’ back pocket, glancing sideways as the door opened.

The woman who stepped over the threshold was young, her slim shape clothed in a conservative cream business suit. Her face was turned away from him as she spoke to the man behind her, giving Zach a view of deep auburn hair and the pure lines of her profile.

His memories of Jessie McCloud were vivid and powerful but the woman in front of him was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. A slam of pure longing, lust and need rocked him. He’d expected the lust. The instant ache of yearning need stunned him.

She laughed at a low-voiced comment from the older man and turned, taking two steps into the café before her gaze met Zach’s and she abruptly halted.

Her eyes widened and her face paled. Emotions moved swiftly across her expressive features—shock and stunned surprise, quickly followed by a brief glimpse of what Zach thought was raw pain. Then her eyes shuttered and her face smoothed, concealing what she’d just revealed as effectively as if she’d drawn a curtain closed.

“Zach.” The faint inclination of her head was polite, her voice cool and distant.

“Jessie.” He touched the brim of his hat, his gaze flicking to the elderly man standing at her elbow. He didn’t recognize him, but the Stetson, jeans and boots he wore marked him as a rancher.

The man nodded politely. In the moment it took for Zach to nod in response and return his attention to Jessie, she’d walked away from him toward the back of the café.

Ignoring the curious glance from the man with her, Zach left the café. He strode down the sidewalk toward the feed store, oblivious to the people he passed and the sound of traffic on the street.

He’d thought about Jessie more often than he cared to admit during the last four years, and in the weeks since he’d returned to Wolf Creek, she’d haunted his dreams every night.

He hadn’t expected her to welcome him with open arms, but neither had he thought she’d turn and walk away as if she hated the sight of him.

“Zach!”

He looked up and cursed silently. Harlan Kerrigan stepped out of his office and stood only yards in front of him. Zach, not yet ready to deal with his uncle, had ignored the messages Harlan had left on his answering machine. He still didn’t want to talk to the man.

But he closed the distance between them. “Afternoon, Harlan.”

“Afternoon, Zach. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Sorry, I’ve got a sick horse I have to check on. Maybe some other time.”

Harlan’s mouth tightened, his ruddy complexion darkening. His eyes reflected his annoyance but he surprised Zach when he didn’t insist. “Let’s make it soon.”

Zach nodded and went his way.

What the hell is Harlan up to? It wasn’t like him to give up easily. Zach made a mental note to ask his mother and sister if Harlan had approached either of them and if he had, what he’d wanted from them.

Seated in a booth in the café, Jessie reined in her emotions, slammed them into a locked corner of her mind and focused on lunch. Ed Sanders was an old friend of her father’s and when he’d called her office for an appointment to update his will, she’d been delighted. They finished his legal work just before noon and his offer to buy her lunch was a welcome diversion. She hadn’t given a thought to the possibility of running into Zach.

So she’d been totally unprepared when she did. The shock and heartache that followed had nearly paralyzed her. The only response she could manage was a brief greeting followed by a swift escape to the back of the café.

She managed to chat and laugh at Ed’s jokes but when she returned to her office after lunch, she had no clear memory of their conversation.

“Hi, Jessie.” Tina, the single mother of three who expertly ran the business side of Jessie’s law office, looked up and smiled when Jessie entered. “How was lunch?”

“Fine.” Jessie murmured her thanks when Tina handed her several pink phone message slips. She glanced quickly through them. “The Auditor’s Office didn’t call back with the information on Dad’s title search?”

“Not yet. Would you like me to check with them again?”

“That would be great, thanks, Tina.” Jessie was legal counsel for McCloud Enterprises and the work often involved property acquisitions. The latest negotiation for a thousand acres of ranchland was proving tricky due to a potential clouded title issue. Her father was impatient to finalize the deal and she wanted the situation resolved as quickly as possible.

Tina picked up the phone and dialed as Jessie crossed the reception area and walked into her office, closing the door behind her. She dropped the message slips on her desk and sat in the comfortable leather chair, pulling open a bottom desk drawer to slip her purse inside.

Alone, behind the closed door, at last she allowed herself to think about her encounter with Zach.

He seemed the same, yet somehow different. The moment she’d turned and looked into his eyes, she’d been blindsided by the emotions that roared through her.

Why am I not over him? She closed her eyes, but the vivid image of Zach standing in the sunlit café was seared on the inside of her lids.

He’d worn a straw cowboy hat tugged low over his brow, his black hair long enough in back to curl against the collar of a blue chambray work shirt. Clean faded Levi’s hugged the length of his long legs, a worn black leather belt threaded through the belt loops and black cowboy boots covered his feet.

His eyes were dark gold, carbon copies of Rowdy’s. But while Rowdy’s were filled with innocence and mischief, Zach’s were unreadable beneath the arch of dark brows. He was deeply tanned, his skin a darker brown than her father’s and brothers’, who spent long hours outdoors and Jessie wondered if he’d been called home from some far-off desert country.

She’d almost forgotten how big he was, or maybe she’d blocked the memory from her mind. She’d felt tiny looking up at him, even in the high-heeled shoes she wore. He was over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and chest, powerful arms and a narrow waist.

And he still had that seductive scent that could only be described as male. Whatever the elusive scent was, she’d felt its impact in the café, even though she’d stood four feet away from him.

Dear God. She raised trembling fingers to her lips. I can’t have feelings for him. I can’t.

The intercom buzzed and she drew a deep breath, willing her voice not to quaver. “Yes, Tina?”

“I’ve just received the trust fund data for the Michaelson Estate. Would you like me to bring you the file?”

“Yes, please.” Jessie quickly smoothed her fingertips over her lashes and down her cheeks to erase any evidence of tears, and picked up a pen.

By three that afternoon she closed the file atop her desk in frustration, unable to concentrate. Pleading a headache, she asked Tina to cancel her four-thirty appointment, left the office and went home to change out of her suit and heels and into cool green shorts. She pulled a white tank top over her head, slipped her feet into leather sandals, and collected Rowdy from next-door neighbor Mabel Harris’s loving care before escaping town to drive to her parents’ ranch.

The one place on earth she could be assured she wouldn’t see Zach Kerrigan was on McCloud land. A less self-assured person might call the visit to her parents blatant hiding. Jessie preferred to call it strategic maneuvering.