Chapter 11.

Zack entered the reception area of Tracy's salon late Monday morning. At the tinkling of the bell over the door, Tracy's voice chimed from a room on the right. "I'll be right there."

He removed his hat. "Okay."

Turning around, he looked over the fussy room. Prints of Victorian ladies, most of them seated before mirrors, hung in a grouping on one wall. Gilt framed mirrors hung on another. Frilly curtains dressed the windows. Cabinets held knick-knacks and styling supplies. Even the tops were covered with fake ivy with white Christmas lights strung through it. One of those obnoxious smelling jar candles burned on the edge of the antique desk she used as a reception counter. He wrinkled his nose at the cloying scent.

d.a.m.n, the place reminded him an old-time bordello. A scene flashed through his mind of him ambling in like some gun-slinging sheriff of the Wild West. Tracy, dressed in a black and red corset, garter belt and silk stockings, lounged on the old desk. All long legs and wanton invitation. Her hair was done up in big curls and held high on her head, just waiting to be set free to tumble down around her shoulders.

Laughter from the inner room scattered the vision like a bullet to a mirror, leaving Zack grasping for reality.

Shacking off the last shards of the fantasy, he twisted his hat in his hand in front of him, glad he had it. The only place to sit was a fancy couch with big pink roses on the delicate-looking fabric. He sat and heard another voice in the inner room. "Thanks so much, my dear."

"I'm glad you like it, Mrs. Pratt," Tracy replied. "And thank you for the contact at the college. I'll give them a call."

Zack groaned. Aida Mae Pratt was as notorious a gossip as his aunt. He glanced at the door. Could he sneak out before she knew he was here?

"You do it, dear. That little apartment upstairs would be perfect for college students," the old widow and boarding house proprietor said. "Well, I'll be going. I think that was the sheriff I heard out there."

Too late.

When the women came out of the room, which Zack figured must be where Tracy worked her magic on the hair of the county's women, he stood and pasted on a smile. Unable to bear the hopefulness Tracy couldn't quite mask, he tipped his head to the older woman. Her too-blonde hair was piled high on her head. "Mrs. Pratt, how're you doing?"

"I'm fine, Sheriff. Thanks for asking. I heard about those rustlers taking your horses."

Good to see the Grapevine was working just fine. He glanced at Tracy, who was busy ringing up the service on an antique cash register. "Yes, well, the department has it under control." He looked at Tracy again. "In fact, that's why I stopped by. I wanted to make sure everything was secure out on b.u.t.terfly and Oak Springs."

He watched the hopeful glint brighten in her eyes. If he was a smart man, he wouldn't touch her ever again. He'd never used a woman. He'd had his share of flings and one-night stands, but those women hadn't been looking for hearts and flowers out of the encounters either. It didn't take a brilliant strategist to determine Tracy was shooting for much more out of this, whatever the h.e.l.l this was, than he could give her. But just what did she want? The question was like an echo off the limestone cliffs that cut across the eastern edge of Lance's half of the ranch. Over and over again it kept bouncing back at him.

Tracy finished cashing in Mrs. Pratt's twenty. "Yes, I think Tom and the boys have everything under control."

Mrs. Pratt watched them intently enough to make Zack tighten the grip on his hat. "I was tickled pink when Charli and Dylan got together. Amazing how things worked out."

Zack's brow shot up, and he c.o.c.ked a lopsided grin when he noticed the furrowing of Tracy's brow as she narrowed her eyes on her customer. Aida Mae made it no secret that she disliked Dylan Quinn.

"Well," Aida went on as she put her change away into one of those f.a.n.n.y packs attached to the leather belt of her tight jeans, "I've got to get going and get the noon meal on. Go ahead and schedule me with Melissa for the next time. I always thought Buck got the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's end in his divorce to that gold-digger he married. Glad to see at least one of his girls hasn't forgotten their daddy in his hour of need."

"I'm glad you're giving Melissa a chance. Will one o'clock on Thursday be okay?"

"Yep, works for me." Smiling broadly, she looked from Zack to Tracy again and waved as she headed out the door. "Y'all have a great afternoon."

Tracy wrote the appointment in her book and called a farewell. She crossed her arms over her chest, then uncrossed them. After clearing her throat, she asked, "How many horses did they take?"

"Twenty. Those thoroughbred mares I told you about. They drove them over Luis Estrada's place to get to them to their trucks."

"I'm so sorry. You were planning on breeding them, weren't you?" She bit her lower lip and her eyes took on a silvery color.

He nodded, moved around the end of the desk, and tossed the hat on the top beside the register. Her breathing caught and then sped up as he invaded her s.p.a.ce.

"Do you have any more customers?"

Tracy's body reacted to the possibility of him coming on to her the moment she'd heard his husky voice. She swallowed hard and shook her head. "I don't. Melissa will be in at one. I usually take Monday afternoons off to do my books."

"I was hoping you could keep me company this afternoon." He skimmed his fingers over her cheek.

Her insides, heating up like lava under the surface of the earth, pooled in her low belly. Her lips parted.

Against her lips, he whispered, "Tracy, I want you."

She had thought of little else since he'd left her standing on her porch Friday night. He was asking her to enter into a s.e.xual relationship without any hope of a futurewithout love.

But she was already in love with Zack.

Both of their kids would benefit from them being together. Hadn't that been what she'd decided while she tossed and turned in her big, empty bed?

With her gaze locked on his, she murmured, "I want you, too, but I have a stipulation."

He leaned back. "What is it?"

"I'm no one's f.u.c.k-buddy, Zack. I know what my reputation is in this town, but it's all wrong." She swallowed her rapidly thumping heart back into place. "I'll only go through with this, if you promise to treat me as a serious girlfriend. That means we date, we visit with our families and we share our kids." When his expression hardened, she quickly added, "Mandy likes me. And I adore her. I'd like to bring her here, to the shop, for a few hours and play. And take her shopping. I know your mom tries, but she's busy with her foundations and charities she does for the Junior League."

The breath she sucked in was full of Zack's scent of sage and leather. "Meanwhile, you can teach Bobby how to ride and maybe take him to the sheriff's department and show him around. Jake won't like it, but I'll deal with him." Having laid her demands out on the proverbial table, she held her breath, waiting for him to tell her what she could do with herself. After all, a man of Zack's caliber could have any d.a.m.ned woman he wanted. Tracy was just handy, and according to the gossip of her ex-husband and mother-in-law, she was easy.

He studied her for a few moments. "That's more than one stipulation."

"Take it or leave it."

"Tracy, it won't change what I told you Friday night. I'm never getting married again."

His words stung as much now as they had the other night, but she didn't show him how much. She kept her face determined, as if she were haggling over one of his horses, rather than her body and soul.

"Fine. But I'm not a floozy. Yes, I've made mistakes. But I have my son to consider. And I'd hope you'd feel the same about Mandy. They're bound to see us together. What do you plan on telling your six-year-old daughter when she asks about me? That I'm your friend with benefits? I know that isn't what I want to be teaching my son." Moreover, she didn't want to give credence to Jake's claim that she had no s.e.xual morals.

"Okay," he said at last. "We'll play the game your way." He pressed her against him. "Luck would have it I'm off this afternoon, too. I've already put in sixteen hours."

When his lips captured hers, she knew she'd made a pact with the devil, but she couldn't stop the elation surging through her. There was something he wanted from her. s.e.x was a big portion of it, but something else kept Zack from walking away and hooking up with any one of the many available women in town.

He tilted her head with his hands on either side of her face, and she opened completely to him. He plunged into her mouth, drank in her will to fight along with her breath, and left her trembling and weak-kneed.

Breathing harshly, he pulled back. "When do you have to get Bobby to his practice?"

"Five-thirty." She somehow managed to breathe out.

The s.e.xy grin sent a quake through the heat building pressure in her lower regions. He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. "Let's go out to the ranch. Mandy goes to the daycare after school, and I don't need to pick her up until five. I can drive you back to get your car."

"I'll follow you."

She was too far gone not to go through with this, but she wanted her own car so she could leave when she wanted to.

He kissed her nose and chuckled. "Alright."

"Zack, there's something you..." She paused to search his eyes and bit hard on her lower lip.

"Tracy, if you don't want to do this now, I'll understand."

She shook her head. "It's not that. I'm not taking anything. Birth control, I mean."

The furrow of his brow told her he was surprised. He heaved in a long breath. "Well, I guess I'd better stop for condoms then. I'll run over to Hamilton, because I can't get them in this county without everyone knowing about it before you even have your first o.r.g.a.s.m."

Heat burned her cheeks at the picture he presented.

He produced a ring of keys from his pocket, removed one of them and held the key toward her. "This will open the mudroom door, beside the garage. Go in and make yourself at home."

Yeah, right.

She gingerly accepted the key as if it was a poisoned dart. "Okay."

He picked his hat up from the desk, but before setting it on his head, he drew her to him again with his free hand on her waist. This kiss was lighter, teasing and promised delights to come. When he pulled back, he left her wanting to strip him right there and have her way with him. Without saying a word, he smiled, settled the Stetson on his head and left.

Tracy watched the door close, the tinkling bell giving a cheerful good-bye. To her it was the harbinger of doom.

What the h.e.l.l was she doing?

Tracy slowed down as she came to the turn-off for Oak Springs Road. She should just go home and forget this whole crazy thing. Her heart was bound to be broken.

She stared at the sign for the county road named for the creek running parallel to it and the ranch to which it led. A beep sounded, and she looked in the rearview mirror to find a pickup truck behind her. When had she stopped? Shaking her head, she took her foot off the brake and hit the gas, zoomed right by the turn-off and over the bridge. At the fork in the road, she turned onto another county road, aptly named Gambler's Folly.

Yep, this was a gamble alright, and it definitely was folly. She stopped again on the road when she came to the Zack's gatethe original gate to the CW Ranch. The arch over the driveway was made of wood and showcased the cattle brand the Cartwrights had used for nearly a century and a halfa connected C and W. Beside the brand were painted a pair of aces, representing the winning hand in the poker game in which Cole Cartwright had won the original land in 1865.

The story went that his cousins, Dylan Ferguson and Elijah Blackwell, had pooled their money together and insisted Cole play in the Dallas game only months after they'd returned from the Civil War.

Taking a deep breath, Tracy stared at the aces. "I'm betting one heart and my dignity. What will you raise me, Zack?"

She parked her car next to the garage, added since Zack owned the house. A porch ran the length of the sprawling ranch house. Several rocking chairs sat in the shade, along with a jumble of large toys, including a bright pink battery operated toy car. In the side yard, under a large oak tree was a wooden swing set, complete with tower and slide. A sandbox nestled under the floor of the loft.

Tracy imagined Zack sitting on the porch watching Mandy play in the yard. She wasn't prepared for the longing to be there beside him watching their kids playing.

Rather than give into the hopelessness, she found courage and opened her car door. She fished the key Zack had given her out of her slacks pocket and opened the first door she came to. As promised, it opened into a mudroom. To the left of the kitchen, a huge dining room opened through an impressive timber arch. She turned away from the exhilarating view of the pastures provided by the wall of windows and looked around the kitchen as she thrust out a sigh.

"Make yourself at home. Right."

She set her hobo purse and the key on the top of the black marble counter of the island, over which hung an a.s.sortment of copper-bottomed pots and pans. The appliances were state-of-the-art and stainless steel. This kitchen belonged to someone who knew how to cook. Her heels sounded hollow on the stone floor, reminding her of a big empty castle. A stone fireplace divided the kitchen and the parlor. A long, heavy trestle table with a bench on either side took up the s.p.a.ce before the cold hearth. On either end were antique high-backed Spanish chairs.

She turned toward the mudroom door, thinking it might be a good idea to just leave while she could. She caught sight of the counter closest to the door. It was a muddle of newspapers, magazines and a few toys. The tiny naked arm and a head with badly cut blonde hair poking out from among the daily news made her laugh. Most of the time, she felt as if she was drowning in the bad news of the world, too, just like Barbie.

The allusion helped her relax enough to continue exploring. She felt the pulse of history in the home, much as she did at the house at Oak Springs. However, unlike her mother's childhood home, here she didn't feel so overwhelmed by the formality.

As she wandered around the large dark wood table in the dining room, gently running her fingertips over the dusty surface, she remembered the time Zack had brought her over to this house the Christmas Eve they'd stayed here while his grandparents were away. Zack and she had attended the family gathering at his Uncle Paul's, then instead of taking her home, Zack had brought her back here. She smiled at the bittersweet memory.

"This house will be mine someday." Zack showed her around. "Do you like it?"

"Yes." She looked around at the table and hutch full of old dishes. "It's a really neat place."

"It is. Some of this stuff has been in my family for well over a hundred years." After taking her into his arms, he said, "C'mon, there's something I want to show you."

He led her to the bedroom at the end of the long corridor. The master suite was as ma.s.sive as the rest of the house and as primitive, although it had been added recently. Zack left her long enough to light the candles he'd placed around the room. "You aren't really thinking of doing what I think you are. Not here. In your grandparents' bed!"

He laughed and kissed her on the nose after wrapping her up into his arms again. "I changed the sheets and even laundered the comforter. Besides, they don't sleep in here anymore. Granny sleeps in one of the other rooms in a special bed. And Granddad sleeps in a twin bed beside hers. He didn't like being in here without her. Claims the bed's too d.a.m.ned big."

He'd made love to her most of the night. At the memory of his touch, antic.i.p.ation sizzled through her.

As if a ghost whispered in her ear, she heard his words as they'd lain together, wrapped up in a glorious afterglow. "I want to ride rodeo after graduation, while you go to school. I'll take some ag-business cla.s.ses between rodeos, and by the time you're done with med school, I should be done with what I need to know to run this place. Then we can move in..."

Tracy gasped as the meaning of his words burned through her brain like a rocket. She'd been too tired to listen to the rest of his words and fallen to sleep.

"He was talking about our future." The pain of the realization rocketed through her. She had to make Zack fall in love with her again.

With renewed determination, she decided to look around the rest of the house.

She made her way to the living room, again taken aback by the mix of modern and antique furniture, the amazing view from a wall of windows and the clutter of toys mixed with Zack's magazines and books. It was such an intimate view into his life. She could see him relaxing in the big leather chair reading his magazines or watching the big screen TV hanging on the wall, while Mandy sat on the floor playing with her Barbies in the giant pink dollhouse in the corner.

Suddenly, a chill tickled down her spine, and she hugged herself against the shiver. She didn't believe in ghosts. But she figured with the history this place had, if they did exist, there had to be a ghost or two wandering aimlessly around the wide halls and big rooms.

Tracy looked toward the fireplace separating the living room from the formal dining room, and her heart stuttered over a few beats when she saw the photographs lovingly displayed. No, the ghost she felt wasn't Cole Cartwright coming back to check up on his poker winnings. This ghost was far more real, and a lot harder to exorcise.

"You must be Lisa," she whispered, but her voice echoed in her mind as if she'd screamed the words.

The stunning woman stared back at Tracy with her full lips frozen forever in a bright smile. She'd been a beauty queen and she looked the part. Long black hair framed a heart-shaped face. Her intelligent, brown eyes were set wide with a pert nose between. Amanda, indeed, looked a great deal like her mother.

Tracy turned her attention away from the woman who'd taken the heart she'd so carelessly broken and made it her own, to the other photos. The next photograph was of Zach in full dress uniform before the flag. The insignia on his uniform was that of a private first cla.s.s. He looked so young in the picture. She'd seen it before; his aunt had shown it to her years ago. Carefully, she picked up the frame and gazed down at the stranger in the picture chronicling a chapter in Zack's life she knew very little about.

"That was taken before I went to Afghanistan the first time."

She almost dropped the frame when she spun to look into the somber face of the live, older version of the man in the picture. The uniform was different, but he resembled the soldier more than the scruffy-haired cowboy she'd fallen for in high school.

Staring into his blue eyes, she saw an unfamiliar shadow. Maybe Zack was more a stranger than she liked to admit. How much of the cowboy she'd hopelessly loved was still in there? Or had his beautiful wife and the life of a Marine fighting in the war completely changed him?

She was ready to find out.

Tracy returned the frame to its place on the mantle and forced herself to look at the pictures of Zack's life. There were several of Lisa and Amanda as she went from infant to toddler, and a few of Zack with his family. But the one that stopped her cold was obviously a wedding picture. He had Lisa tucked under his arm. Lisa had been the complete opposite from Tracyaverage height, busty and curvy. Zack was dressed in a suit and Lisa wore a simple white dress. Lisa practically glowed, and Tracy wasn't sure she'd ever seen Zack look so happy.