Carla Cassidy - Home on the Ranch - Oklahoma

As it was, she was aware of the fact that she was far too conscious of him as a strong, good-looking man rather than an intelligent, trained investigator.

She hadn’t liked the way her heart had jagged just a bit in her chest when she’d seen him heading toward the house. The night shadows had clung to him, making him look tall and strong as he’d strode toward her.

She told herself she’d just been grateful for the company, for anyone’s company in the quiet hours of the evening.

She grabbed the manila folder that held the list she’d prepared for him that afternoon then returned to the porch, where he now stood next to the railing. “I wasn’t sure how far back you wanted me to go on former employees. You mentioned a year, so that’s what I did.”

“At least this gives us a place to start.” He took the folder from her then leaned back against the porch railing.

“Sonny mentioned this afternoon something about Doc Edwards coming out tomorrow to tag new calves. What’s that about?” he asked.

“We’re not branding anymore. One of the things I implemented when I got back from college was electronic tags for the cattle. That way if they’re stolen, we can track them by computer to find out where they are.”

“What made you decide to do that?” he asked. “Branding has always been good enough for most people around here. Besides, I thought cattle rustling went out with disco.”

“Haven’t you heard? Cattle rustling is back in fashion. With the new fad of low carb diets, rustlers have discovered that beef is big business again. I talked Dad into tagging last spring when he lost twenty head of cattle to rustlers.”

She saw one of his dark brows raise slightly. “I guess I’ve been out of touch with the ranching world since working for Wild West Protective Services.” He gazed at her thoughtfully. “It’s been several months since I last saw your dad. I asked you before, but maybe you’ve thought of somebody he’d had problems with? I don’t just mean here around the ranch.”

She sighed and stared out at the brilliant blanket of stars strewing the night sky. “I’ve thought about it for the past two weeks and I can’t think of anyone Dad had problems with or exchanged a harsh word with. Brett has been an ongoing problem, but when he came to Dad with a sob story Dad rehired him, so surely he wouldn’t have any grudge to hold.”

She looked at him once again. “You of all people should know how easygoing Dad was. He didn’t have a temper. He didn’t go looking for problems. I just can’t imagine anyone having a reason to hurt him. You know he was on the town city council. I have gone to most of the meetings and there’s always arguing about issues, but never does it feel mean-spirited.”

“Maybe I need to check out the local politics, go to the next council meeting.”

“The next meeting is a week from tomorrow. Every second Saturday evening of the month. I just can’t imagine any city business that would result in somebody wanting to kill Dad.”

He stared off into the night. “If we can figure out a motive, then it will be easier to solve the crime. Unfortunately it’s possible there is no motive, that it was a crime of rage, a crime of passion.” He returned his gaze to her and his eyes glittered in the artificial porch light.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean maybe out there on the trail Gray encountered somebody and they had a fight that ended tragically.”

“There was no fight,” she countered. “At least, not a fair one. Dad was a big man and quite capable of taking care of himself. I saw him, Zack. I saw him on the ground. I held one of his hands in mine.” Her voice cracked and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “There wasn’t a mark on his face, a scratch or bruise on his hands. He never got a chance to defend himself.”

Without conscious thought she stepped forward and curled her hand around Zack’s strong forearm. “It was an ambush, Zack. That’s what happened on the trail that morning. Somebody ambushed my father and killed him.”

He covered her hand with his own, his eyes holding not a haunted but a dangerous glint. “I told you we’ll get him, Katie, and we will.”

His hand was hot on hers and for a moment her breath caught. She licked her dry lips. “Kate,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. “It’s Kate. I’m not a little girl anymore, Zack.”

“Yeah. I noticed.” His voice sounded deeper than usual and in that moment Kate remembered how many times in her youth she had dreamed of Zack’s hand holding hers, his mouth touching hers and his body possessing hers.

She wondered what his mouth tasted like, if it would taste as dangerous, as sensual as it looked.

There was something in his eyes that filled her with a crazy, sweet longing and, with a rush of anticipation, she leaned forward.

Zack’s senses swam with her. All memories of the negative way he’d once felt about her, what he’d once thought about her, disappeared as she leaned closer, close enough that if he wanted he could capture her full, sensual lips with his.

For just a brief, charged moment he saw only the fact that she was a beautiful woman with eyes that beckoned and a scent that half dizzied him.

Would kissing her somehow ease the ache that had been in his heart for the last month? Would pulling her body tight against his somehow diminish the anger that had festered in him for too many days, too many nights?

The desire to find out might have tempted him if he didn’t remember all too clearly the last time she’d looked at him with her eyelids half open and her lips parted as if expecting a kiss.

He stepped backward, breaking their physical contact as he pulled away from her. “Last time I stood that close to you, you scratched half the flesh off my cheek,” he said.

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “If you expect me to apologize, you’ll be waiting a long time. You were where you didn’t belong and it really wasn’t any of your business.”

“You were where you didn’t belong, as well,” he reminded her.

Her cheeks deepened in color. “That was a long time ago. What’s important isn’t the past, what’s important is the here and now.”

“Easy for you to say. I bear the scars of the temper tantrum you threw in the past.” He reached up and touched his cheek where the small scar had ensured that he’d never completely forget Katie Sampson.

“You’re joking, right? I didn’t really leave a scar, did I?” She stepped closer to him and once again he tensed as the scent of her surrounded him. Before he knew her intent, she reached up and traced a soft, warm finger across his cheek.

She gasped and jerked her hand away. “Oh, Zack. Tell me the truth? Did I do that or did you get it some other way and you’re just trying to make me feel bad?”

What in the hell was he doing? As he looked at her face, her features taut with concern and maybe just a touch of remorse, he wondered why he’d even brought up that night so long ago.

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” he finally said. “I got this scar in a bar fight several years ago, and you’re right, what’s important is the here and now.” He stepped down from the porch. “I’d better get back to the bunkhouse before the other men come back from town.”

“Of course. I’d like to go with you when you take the file to Dalton.”

“That will be first thing in the morning. Dalton won’t be in the office in town tomorrow, but he has everything he needs at the ranch to start working the background checks. Don’t you need to be here for the cattle tagging?”

He didn’t want her with him. He’d been less than twenty-four hours in her employment and she was already bothering him in a way that confused and irritated him.