Soul Deep

  Janet took a sip of her cider, smiled. “I bet you have.”

  And damned if it wasn’t his turn to blush.

  # # #

  Janet searched through the Cimarron’s library of DVDs and Blu-Rays. Jack had left it up to her to pick the movie. She didn’t think she could handle anything with violence. Detective dramas and procedurals made her feel like she was at work, when their inaccuracies and Hollywoodisms didn’t drive her crazy.

  “Oh!” She took The Sound of Music off the shelf. “I haven’t seen this in ages. Is it too much of a kids’ movie for you?”

  Jack, who was finishing making popcorn at the little bar at the back of the theater room, glanced up. “That’s fine with me.”

  She carried the DVD over to him.

  He handed her a big bowl of popcorn. “Go pick a seat.”

  She sat in the center of the theater’s front row, the bowl of popcorn on her lap, the buttery scent of the corn making her mouth water. How she could possibly have room for this after Jack’s delicious stew, she couldn’t say.

  He came and sat beside her. “Have you figured out how to work the seats?”

  “I guess not.” She wasn’t even sure what he meant.

  He reached across her, pushed a button on the arm of her chair. Her seat began to recline, and a footrest came up.

  “Wow. This is better than a real theater.”

  “Damned straight.” He raised a remote, and the lights dimmed.

  Janet lost herself in the film, forgetting the real world, aware only of the story taking shape on the screen and the man beside her. She glanced over at him, the rugged features of his face softened by the blue light from the screen.

  She must be crazy even thinking of starting a relationship with him. Then again, what was crazy about it? They were both unattached. They both had successful careers. Despite her first impression of him, he was a good man, not the kind who’d bolt when life got hard. He was tough, but there was a gentleness inside him she’d rarely seen in a man. He’d been faithful to his wife. He’d stood by his critically injured son. And because he was already a father and grandfather, he wouldn’t care that she couldn’t have kids. She hadn’t had a period in months, after all.

  Of course, she would have to tell him everything. Before things went too far, she would have to tell him that she might not be able to have sex with him, at least not in the usual way. It was that thought more than anything that held her back.

  No, it was the fear of finding out the truth, of trying to be close with a man, only to discover that it hurt or that she couldn’t come. She’d always loved sex, loved getting close with a man, body and soul. The possibility that she might not be able to enjoy sex was far easier to live with than the certainty that she definitely could not.

  Up on the screen, kids dressed in repurposed drapes were running all over Salzburg singing “Do-Re-Mi.”

  She glanced over at Jack again, felt a tug in her chest. “By the way, you can put your arm around my shoulders if you’d like.”

  “I would like.” Jack raised the armrest that divided their two seats, reached over, and drew her closer.

  She rested her head against his chest, heard the steady beating of his heart, and felt her blood warm as his fingers caressed her shoulder. She was contemplating the wisdom of turning in her seat and kissing him when his cell phone rang.

  “Sorry.” He drew it out of his pocket, glanced down. “It’s Chuck.”

  Janet got a bad feeling.

  Jack answered. “What’s up?”

  His body went tense. He withdrew his arm and pushed the button to bring his seat upright. “Is he okay? Have you called for an ambulance or the sheriff? I’m on my way.”

  “What is it?” Janet fumbled for the button on her seat.

  He raised the remote control, brought the lights up, and stopped the movie. “An intruder entered the stallion’s barn. Luke has been shot.”

  “Oh, my God.” She’d been afraid something like this would happen.

  Jack looked furious. “It’s not serious. Luke fired back, but whoever it was has run off. Chinook wasn’t hurt, but he’s gone berserk and is kicking the hell out of his stall.”

  She reached for her cane, got to her feet. “What can I do to help?”

  “Stay inside and out of danger.” He started to move around her.

  She blocked his path. “I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, and his gaze softened. “An armed man is loose on my land somewhere, and I don’t want you coming into the line of fire. My men and I can handle it.”

  She stepped back, glared up at him. “I’m better trained than most of your men. Give me a weapon.”

  He frowned, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “All right, but you stick with me. I’m not putting a firearm in your hands, not because I don’t trust you, but because you haven’t fired one since the day you were shot. Your having a gun won’t help any of us if you’re not ready to use it.”

  His words stung, but she knew what he said was true. “Fair enough.”

  “I’ll meet you in the mudroom.” He walked out of the theater and headed down the hallway toward his office.

  She hurried to the mudroom, picking up a notepad and pen from the kitchen counter along the way. By the time she had her boots on, he was there, looking grim-faced, a Colt M1911 in a shoulder holster. He put on his boots, grabbed a barn jacket. “Someone just bought himself a world of trouble.”

  “He sure has.” She followed Jack outside, took his arm when he offered it. She could hear the stallion’s frenzied whinnies and wished she could run, because surely that’s what Jack wanted to do. “He must be terrified. You should go on without me.”

  “I’m not leaving you out here in the dark by yourself with a gunman around.”

  This is why he’d wanted her to stay in the house. He’d known this would happen, and yet he still refused to leave her without protection.

  “Sorry. I’m slowing you down. I’m just not used to sitting on the sidelines.”

  “I know. We’re almost there.”

  Inside the stables, they found chaos. Chuck stood outside Chinook’s stall trying to calm him, but the stallion bucked, reared, and lunged, his hooves chipping wood, denting the walls of his stall, his teeth bared. Luke sat shirtless on a cot, Burt pressing gauze to his shoulder with gloved hands. A half dozen of the other men stood around watching, some of them holding firearms.

  Janet lowered her voice to a whisper. “This is a crime scene. We need to get everyone out of here and lock it down.”

  “We certainly do.” Jack walked over to the men who were milling about. “There’s nothing you can do here, men. Head back to the bunkhouse, and get some sleep. The sheriff’s investigators will probably have some questions for you later. If we need your help in the meantime, we’ll let you know.”

  The respect the men had for Jack was evident. He projected a calm that seemed to settle everyone. Janet knew that quality for what it was—leadership.

  “You got it, boss.”

  “We’ll find this son of a bitch.”

  “We’re here for you, Mr. West.”

  Jack walked over to Luke. “Burt, why don’t you walk Luke up to the house and get ready to take him to the hospital in Scarlet?”

  “It was Kip, boss.” Luke looked like he was fighting not to cry. “I guess he came to finish what he started, but I stopped him.”

  There was stippling on Luke’s face and chest.

  “Who’s Kip?” Janet went to stand beside Luke.

  “He’s a guy who got himself fired a few weeks back,” Burt said.

  A disgruntled employee. A man with a possible motive.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” Janet asked.

  Luke was shaking now, the aftermath of adrenaline. “I was sleeping, when I heard the door. I looked up and saw a man standing just inside the barn. I asked who he was and what he was doing. He walked closer, said his name was Kip. I c
ould see he was holding a gun. I reached for my pistol, and he shot me. I fired back, but I guess I missed. He took off running.”

  Janet wrote all of this down. “Where was he standing when he fired his weapon?”

  Luke pointed to near where she was standing. “He came up on me pretty close.”

  The powder burns on Luke’s face and chest seemed to corroborate that.

  “How many shots did he fire?”

  “Just the one.”

  “How many shots did you fire?”

  “One, I think. Maybe two.”

  Jack rested a hand on Luke’s uninjured shoulder. “Let’s get you fixed up first, and then we’ll talk about what happened at the hospital.”

  Janet knew Jack was right. If she’d been here in an official capacity, her first duty would be to make sure that anyone who was wounded received medical care. Statements could wait. As it was, she was here as a guest, not an agent.

  Jack gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, demonstrating his understanding and his appreciation with that simple gesture. “I’m grateful for what you’ve done for us tonight, Luke, and I am sorry as hell that you were hurt.”

  But Janet’s attention had shifted to Chinook. The stallion was terrified. The whites of his eyes flashed. His skin twitched. His entire body seemed to tremble. He bucked, kicked.

  “Oh, you poor thing!” Without thinking, without asking anyone, Janet walked over to Chinook’s stall, opened the sliding door, and stepped inside.

  # # #

  Jack helped Burt get Luke out of the barn, then turned toward Chinook—and his heart seemed to stop. “Janet!”

  She’d gone into Chinook’s stall, hooves slashing the air around her.

  Jack ran toward her, then stopped, unable to believe what he was seeing.

  Chinook quit rearing and bucking, his attention on Janet, who spoke to him in soothing tones, her arms at her sides.

  “It’s okay, boy. It’s all right now.”

  Chuck glanced over at Jack, but didn’t say a word, a look of shock on his face.

  Jack walked slowly toward the stall, not wanting to startle the stallion with Janet so close to him. “Janet, honey, why don’t you ease on out of there?”

  She didn’t answer, but continued to speak softly to the stallion. “I’m sorry. I know you’re scared.”

  The horse whinnied, snorted, then walked over to Janet, still trembling.

  “Good boy.” She patted the animal's neck, took hold of his halter. “You’re all sweaty. I don’t want you to get chilled out here.”

  Jack stopped just outside the stall. “Chuck, go get Chinook’s blanket and a curry comb and brush.”

  “Right, boss.”

  Janet crooned to the stallion, stroked him, and Jack could see Chinook calm under her touch, his trembling subsiding.

  Then the stallion stretched his neck out toward her, lowering his muzzle almost to the straw in a gesture of affection and submission.

  Well, I'll be damned.

  “We ought to move him,” Janet said. “The sheriff’s department is going to need to come in here and take photos and comb the place for evidence. That won’t be good for Chinook.”

  She was right.

  Chuck returned, blanket over one arm, curry comb and brush in his hands. “Here you go, boss man.”

  Jack took the items from him. “Get the other stallion stall ready. We’re going to have investigators tearing this place apart soon. We need to put Chinook somewhere he feels calm.”

  Chuck nodded. “I just can’t believe Kip would do this. Yeah, he drank sometimes, but he was never the violent sort.”

  That thought had crossed Jack’s mind, too. “Anger and pride can make a man do some pretty foolish things.”

  “That’s true enough.” Chuck hurried off.

  Jack carefully and quietly entered Chinook’s stall, draped the blanket through the feed opening, then handed Janet the curry comb. “You didn’t tell me you were a horse whisperer.”

  “I’m not—at least I don’t think I am.”

  “Well, you nearly gave me a heart attack. If you were one of my men, I’d fire you on the spot for being reckless.”

  “I’m not one of your men.”

  “Thank God for that.” Still, he needed to make his point. “You could have been killed. I’ve seen stallions go crazy and injure experienced horsemen, men who raised them. You took a real chance stepping in here.”

  “I’m sorry I frightened you. I saw how afraid Chinook was, and I just had to do something.”

  He handed her the curry comb. “Most people who saw a stallion in that state would see only aggression and feel afraid. But you saw that the stallion was afraid, and so you had no fear. You amaze me.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “That goes both ways.”

  He was glad to hear that. In the course of the evening, he’d come to realize that he loved her. For the second time in his life, he’d fallen head over heels in love with a woman.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Janet helped Jack rub down Chinook, then watched as he and Chuck got the stallion settled in a stall on the other side of the building.

  “I’ll stay with him tonight, boss.”

  “Thanks, Chuck. Stay sharp. I’m walking Ms. Killeen back inside.”

  Janet wasn’t used to feeling protected. She was used to being the one doing the protecting. Having a man fuss over her like this felt strange, but it also felt good. If given the chance, she might even be able to get used to it.

  Jack walked over to her, took her arm in his as they left the stables. His voice was calm, but Janet could feel his rage. One of his men had been shot, almost killed, and his prize stallion had again been threatened. He felt responsible. “Burt and I are taking Luke to the hospital in Scarlet. Detective Sergeant Taylor is meeting us there. As soon as I’ve paid the bill and Luke has given a statement, I’ll catch a ride back home with Taylor. He wants to search the scene for evidence tonight. Burt and Luke will come back in the truck when Luke is released. It’s going to be a long night. You should get some rest.”

  “It doesn’t feel right to me to crawl into bed with all of this going on.”

  They stopped in the mudroom, and he helped her out of her parka. “I’m sure it must be hard for you to sit things out, but you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I’m not sure I can sleep.”

  “Try.” He hung her coat on a hook. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Janet watched him leave, took off her boots, and walked into the kitchen, where she made a pot of coffee—not the wisest course of action if she wanted to sleep. But who was she fooling? She wasn’t going to sleep with Jack gone and a shooter on the loose.

  She carried her cup of coffee into the living room, stood there for a moment just looking around. It felt strange to be alone in the big house. She walked toward the fireplace, drawn by photographs on the mantel. One showed Jack standing with Nate and a woman who must have been Theresa. The three of them radiated happiness, their love for one another apparent.

  Nate, who was in full dress uniform, had his father’s jaw and blue eyes, but he’d gotten his cheekbones from his mother. Jack looked younger with less gray in his hair and fewer lines around the eyes. But it was Theresa who drew and held Janet’s gaze.

  Janet could see why Jack had been attracted to her. She’d been a beautiful woman, her delicate features ageless, her bearing sophisticated, her hazel eyes warm and full of life. This house had been her home. Jack had been her husband.

  What am I doing here?

  Janet had no business starting a relationship with anyone. She ought to be focused on getting her life back together, not allowing herself to be distracted by the first handsome man to show her kindness.

  Then again, she’d come up here to relax and celebrate finishing rehab. Was it so wrong to enjoy Jack’s hospitality and his company?

  No, damn it. It wasn’t.

  Feeling on edge, she carried her coffee cup to the
kitchen sink, went to her room, and filled the big bathtub with hot water, hoping to soak both the tension and her aches and pains away. She sank into the hot water with a sigh and let her mind wander, the heat immediately soothing to her sore muscles.

  She found herself thinking over the case. It was just habit. Before the shooting, she’d often ended the day by relaxing in the tub and mulling over the details of whatever case she was handling. Except this wasn’t a case—or it wasn’t her case. Still, she couldn’t get it out of her head, the details drifting through her thoughts.

  Chinook screaming in his stall. Luke shaking, fighting tears, a deep graze in his shoulder. An angry ex-employee trying to settle the score with Jack.

  Janet hoped they went after this Kip and brought him in for questioning. She wanted him behind bars, where he couldn’t hurt Jack.

  She let the tub drain, dried off with a fluffy towel, then slipped into her pajamas, crawled into bed, and was instantly fast asleep.

  # # #

  It was four in the morning when Jack walked into the house. He took off his gloves, parka, and boots, stopped for a drink of water in the dark kitchen, and headed for his bedroom, mind and body exhausted. Luke had identified Kip from his DMV photo in a photo lineup of six other random men. The kid had never met Kip. If that wasn’t conclusive evidence, Jack didn’t know what was. Luke had a deep flesh wound, but thankfully it wasn’t serious. He’d be coming home in the morning.

  Jack had ridden back with Det. Sgt. Taylor and had watched as Taylor and his team scoured the area around the stables and Chinook’s stall for evidence. They’d found a .45 slug buried in the east wall behind Luke’s cot. They’d found two shell casings—both 9mm from Luke’s Glock 17—and a single .45 casing near the stable door, presumably from Kip’s weapon.

  Like Chuck, Jack was surprised that Kip could do anything as despicable as shoot man or horse. Then again, human beings were nature’s least predictable animal.

  As he passed Janet’s room, he noticed light coming from beneath her door. He tapped lightly. “Janet, honey? Are you okay?”