Colter Gamblers: Gambling On A Heart Part 8

"What are you talking about? No one yelled at Bobby, and no one ever abused him. I don't have a 'latest fling' or a 'flavor of the week' as you so gallantly put it."

"Zack."

He couldn't be serious. "What does Zack"

"You may be screwin' your old flame, but I will not allow that somb.i.t.c.h anywhere near my son. You got that?" Jake looked Tracy over from head to toe. She was dressed in jeans and a baggy t-s.h.i.+rt, nothing remotely s.e.xy, but his eyes flared with a l.u.s.t that disgusted her. Giving her a slow grin, he said, "You know if it's just s.e.x you want, I'm always available."

"d.a.m.n it, Jake, we're divorced. We can't stand each other."

He moved close enough for her to kiss him if the thought didn't make her gag. "Don't worry." His voice was low and husky. "I'm not talking about a walk down the aisle again. But the s.e.x was always good."

Huffing, Tracy smiled as smugly as she could muster. "Not always. Believe me, I've had better." She enjoyed the irritated narrowing of his eyes way too much. "I had blinders on. I believed your bulls.h.i.+t and fell for your charm. Not again, Jake. Now, let's talk about your constantly making me out to be the heavy where Bobby is concerned."

"Ah, yes, I was never as good as dear old Zack Cartwright." He spoke in a low hiss. "I heard that either the Marines or his beauty queen wife neutered him. Glad to hear that was all vicious lies."

"Goodbye, Jake." She turned away and headed back to her car.

"Does Zack know you screwed me over for his brother?"

She jerked to a stop and spun around. "I never slept with Logan and you know it. He helped me get away from you. Without him, I probably never would have. He helped me see your true colors and how you cheated me out of the life I really wanted. He's my friend, nothing more."

"If I remember correctly, that's all you considered me when you f.u.c.ked me for the first time." He moved toward her and smiled. "I remember that first time, Tracy. I remember how you came on to me after the roundup at the McPherson place. You couldn't even wait until we got off the ranch. You told me to pull into the pasture, and we went at it on the bed of my truck."

Tracy flinched and took a step back. "You manipulated me into thinking the man I loved was cheating on me. You were supposed to be his best friend. In my stupid, naive way of thinking, I was getting back at him. Not to mention you had me believing you actually loved me. I just didn't realize, until much too late, I was no more than a p.a.w.n in some sick game."

She glared at him and snarled as she fisted her hands. G.o.d, she wished she could punch that c.o.c.ky gleam out of his eyes. "If there is a chance for Zack and me to find what we've lost, it is none of your d.a.m.ned business. But you will not use my son in your games."

"I'll raise my son any d.a.m.ned way I see fit. But I will not allow Sheriff GI Joe to verbally bully him."

Tracy pulled into her full height, putting herself a good two inches taller than him, which she knew infuriated him more than her words. "Zack didn't yell at Bobby. He needs someone to show him some authority and that he can't get everything he wants just because he wants it. Bobby didn't like being reminded he's a kid and the world doesn't always turn at his will. G.o.d knows he would never learn that from you. In the end, Bobby had fun, and if you were to ask him, I'd bet he'd even say he enjoyed being part of his uncle's special day instead of going to see his favorite baseball team lose."

Jake snorted and leaned back on his heels. His s.h.i.+rt tightened across his shoulders when he folded his arms over his chest. Clenching his fists, he sneered. "Zack Cartwright is not the boss of my son, Tracy."

As she reached for the handle of her car door, Jake's next words halted her. "Do you know why I'm suing you for full custody?"

"Because you're a royal jacka.s.s?"

"Not any more than you're a two-bit wh.o.r.e."

She spun on him.

"The company you keep has become increasingly bad news. The men you parade in and out of your bed have gone from bad to worse. Not to mention having your alcoholic, suicidal brother living with you in your small apartment. Exposing Bobby to his craziness."

"Dylan was never suicidal and he isn't crazy."

Jake shrugged. "Post-traumatic stress disorder. Google it. One of the symptoms is suicidal thoughts. So is violence. I heard he put Brenda's new husband in a chokehold in the Longhorn back in March," he said, referring to Dylan's ex-wife, her husband, and an incident that happened before he started working for Charli.

"You can't be serious. What was I supposed to do, Jake? He's my brother. Dylan was never suicidal or dangerous and you know it!"

Jake looked at his watch. "My lawyer sees things differently."

He turned away and headed toward the open garage bay.

Dear G.o.d, what was she going to do?

When the bell jingled above the door, Tracy glanced up from the reception desk and smiled at the woman standing inside the entry. "Melissa?"

The pet.i.te woman tentatively returned Tracy's smile and pushed golden blond hair behind an ear. She held out a small hand and nodded. "Hi. Yes, I'm Melissa Blackwell. You must be Tracy."

Tracy stood to shake the small hand. She towered over the shorter woman by almost a foot. Heading around the desk, Tracy gestured toward the couch by the double window. "Please sit. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Soda?"

Melissa s.h.i.+fted the strap of her bag from her shoulder. She was dressed in black slacks and a white clingy sweater, which did everything to emphasize her curves. "Coffee would be fine."

Tracy went to the commercial coffee maker on an old sideboard and poured them each a cup. After she settled on the wingchair next to the couch, she took a deep breath and clutched her cup between her hands. She'd never conducted an interview before and hadn't had time to prepare as well as she'd have liked.

Melissa appeared to be nearly as nervous as she was. She sipped her coffee as she looked around. "This is a really nice place."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to hear about your dad."

"He's not doing well. Although he doesn't let on he's as bad off as he is." She looked down into the cup between her hands. "I wish I'd known how sick he was sooner. I would've been here before now."

At a loss for what else to say, Tracy asked, "So, how long have you been in Colton?"

Melissa shrugged. "About a week." A sheepish smile touched her full lips. "I'll admit I'm not sure how long I'll be in town." She lost a smile and took a quick sip of her coffee. "It's a lot different than LA."

Tracy laughed. "I can't disagree with that. I've lived all over the world. But I wouldn't want to live anywhere but here."

"Colton has its own kind of charm." She glanced around again. "Sometimes I wonder if it's because it's..."

"It's home."

Melissa's eyes sparkled. "Yes. I guess that's it. I mean, I'm living in the same house my great-great-grandfather built."

"I understand perfectly."

They shared a smile. She and Melissa would get along perfectly.

The rest of the interview went smoothly. Tracy was impressed with Melissa's education and her work history. After a quick tour around the salon, they returned to the reception area.

"How would you like to start tomorrow?" Tracy held out her hand.

Melissa's smile dazzled as she took Tracy's hand and squeezed. "Sure! I'd love to. Thank you."

"Then we have a deal. I'll see you tomorrow at ten."

At the door, Melissa tilted her head to look up at Tracy, again reminding her of the difference in their height. "Is Logan Cartwright still in town?"

Logan? "Ah... He actually lives in Dallas, but hangs out at one of the smaller houses on the CW when he's in town, which is a lot."

She smiled, but it never reached her eyes. "Thanks. I'll have to look him up."

"I'm sure he'd like to see you. How do you know Logan?" Tracy couldn't keep the question from popping out. In all the years that she'd know him, he never mentioned knowing the Blackwell twins. Once their B-movie actress mother hightailed it out of Texas, she'd never set foot in the state again. As rumor had it, the only way Buck had gotten to see his daughters was by going to California to visit them.

Melissa looked at the floor, but not before Tracy noticed her frown. "I don't know himnot really. But my sister does. They sang together when he was in college."

Actress Olivia Blackwell and Logan?

Before she could ask any more questions, Melissa smiled and reached for the doork.n.o.b. "I better get home. Thank you again, Tracy."

Zack woke up before dawn Sat.u.r.day. He dressed and ate a breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast, was.h.i.+ng it all down with a pot of black coffee with way too much sugar. After kissing a still-sleeping Amanda, Zack left her in the care of Amy Jackson, the seventeen-year-old daughter of his head foreman. She babysat Mandy when his mother wasn't available and the daycare in town was closed.

He wasn't on duty today, and his cousin had promised to help him replace the patched fencing between him and his neighbor. It was too early to determine if old man Estrada's stud had bred any of Zack's mares, but after the stallion had broken through the fence his men had patched again yesterday morning, there was a chance the paint would be a proud papa in eleven months.

Zack should have made better precautions to keep Estrada's stud on his side of the fence. Besides the wood and barbed wire fencing, a fencerow of th.o.r.n.y mesquite acted as a barrier, but that wouldn't keep a determined stud away if he smelled a mare in heat.

Zack laughed at the comparison and headed out the back door and down the path to the barn. Estrada's Thunderbolt wasn't the only stud with a female on the brain. Tracy was never far from his thoughts these days. Last night he'd dreamt about what he'd like to do to heragain. He was playing with fire by getting involved with her. She'd hurt him eventually if he ever let himself care too much. As he fed and watered the two dozen horses he had stabled at the barn, he realized he'd never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her.

And there laid the crux of his dilemma. If he gave in to the desire, he'd rediscover the things he'd fallen in love with before, qualities time hadn't erased or changed. Qualities like her gentleness, her compa.s.sion for others, her naive belief in the good in everyone, and her feistiness that always managed to surprise him.

Not to mention time had only made her s.e.xier; a fact he wasn't so sure she understood herself. There were too many times when he'd gotten the impression, by the shy way she'd pushed her hair away from her face and had bitten her lower lip, that Tracy still saw herself as a skinny, awkward adolescent.

As Olive Oyl.

In the gray dawn, Zack got busy loading the back of his Dodge with tools from the shed, and attempted to push thought of the only woman he'd ever fully loved to the back of his mind.

He was dog-tired from another h.e.l.l week at work. The rustlers had hit again and Leon Ferguson's attorneys were starting to cause trouble. According to the lawyers, Zack had forced an incriminating confession from Leon's accomplice, Kyle McPherson.

Which, of course, was a load of bulls.h.i.+t. Kyle eagerly ID'd his boss when he realized he faced charges of not only arson, but also for the attempted murder of Dylan Quinn, livestock poisoning, and the murder of Ella Larson all by his lonesome.

Okay, Zack had neglected to share with him that some of the evidence pointing Kyle's involvement in these crimes was circ.u.mstantial at best, but that was a horse of another color.

He finished loading the back of his pickup with the supplies he and Lance would need to fix fences all day and glanced back at the log house. He'd rather spend a relaxing day at home with his daughter. But that wasn't the life of a rancher.

The CW was the second largest ranch in the county and employed several hands, but on the weekends, only enough workers were around to do what was needed to keep the cattle and horses fed.

Zack waved at Tate Jackson as the foreman pa.s.sed the barn.

"You sure you don't want any help?" the African American man said from the doorway of the tack room.

Zack shut the tailgate and shook his head. "Nope. I think Lance and I have it covered." He paused at the driver's side door. "Can you stick close to the house in case Amy needs anything? I know Mandy can be a handful for her, and I'm not sure how long I'll be."

"I thought you liked me, boss. I'm not sure which is worse riding herd onyour little girl or my big one."

Chuckling, Zack opened his door. "Riding herd on Mandy, for sure. I have my cell phone if you need me."

"Fair 'nough." Before Zack stepped into the truck, the foreman added, "Those mares you have out there in the west pasture are worth a pretty penny. Better get the fence fixed before they wander off."

"Or Estrada's stud gives himself a heart attack."

Tate snickered. "Oh, but what a way to go. Well, if you were a stud, that is."

Grinning, Zack touched the brim of his hat in salute as he climbed in behind the steering wheel.

There was another reason he insisted on fixing the fence. He'd been thinking about his roots, and the events that had changed his life, such as why he'd moved away to begin with. If he denied Tracy's cheating on him had been the main reason he'd left Texas, he'd be lying to himself. He would have rodeoed even if they'd married, but he'd always known rodeo was a temporary thing. However, after her betrayal, he'd wanted nothing to do with the CW. Every dream he'd ever had about the place had included her.

He'd already decided he'd never come back to Texas when he'd met Lisa. After he'd been thrown during a rodeo in Cheyenne, he'd been taken to the hospital where she worked as a brand new nursefresh out of college and fresh off her reign as Miss Wyoming. Lisa had been super-model beautiful and they'd instantly clicked. And had instantly ignited into flames. He hadn't lived as a monk in the two years after he'd left Texas, but he'd never been so in l.u.s.t with a woman besides Tracy as he'd been with Lisa.

Although she'd been a beauty queen, she'd lived a sheltered life. Zack still remembered his shock when they'd made love the first time on their second date and discovered she was a virgin. He'd proposed two weeks later, and after only two months of dating, they'd married. Their parents had thought they were making a huge mistake, and Logan had come to Wyoming to talk him out of it.

Zack had met Lisa in August 2001. When the terrorist attacks on the US happened in September, he knew what he had to do. He'd signed up at a recruiting station in Cheyenne and had been immediately processed through. Two days after his wedding in October, he'd s.h.i.+pped off to a tearful goodbye that had been on the local news. Due to his status as a professional athlete, not to mention being married to a former Miss Wyoming, and being the oldest son of former rock star Jackie McGinnis, he'd been lauded as special.

He'd hated the reporters who'd shoved microphones in his face asking stupid questions about why he'd felt compelled to fight in the war. He'd never forget Lisa's response, "My husband is an American. We all should stand up and fight."

The war and her death had changed everything again. His drinking had gotten worse, and he'd quit his job on the Cheyenne PD. When his in-laws had threatened to take his little girl from him, he'd sought out help for the depression that wouldn't leave him. And then he'd moved his daughter home to the CW where they belonged.

By helping Dylan Quinn through his issues with the war and his possible role in the deaths of the men under his command, Zack realized he had to work through his own issues concerning Lisa's death.

But there was one thing for which he'd never forget or forgive himselfLisa's death wouldn't have happened if he'd been able to forget the past and Tracy.

Driving over the rough ranch roads crisscrossing the pastures and crossing an old wood bridge straddling Oak Springs Creek, he made it to his cousin's half of the ranch in a fraction of the time it would have taken by main road.

Lance Cartwright had built his house as a wedding gift to his wife twelve years ago. It dwarfed all of the homes on the twenty-thousand-acre ranch. Modeled after a Spanish hacienda, it boasted natural stone and stucco exterior walls, a four-car garage, a portico and an interior courtyard.

Lance leaned against the railing of the corral by his barn with his hands in his pockets. Dressed like Zack in old jeans, work s.h.i.+rt open over a t-s.h.i.+rt, work boots and an old brown hat over his unruly blond hair, Lance could have pa.s.sed for Zack's brother rather than first cousin.

"Hey, cousin." Lance wore an easy grin as Zack got out of his truck. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up until dinnertime."

"I was thinking about it, but I don't want Luis Estrada to start charging me for Thunderbolt's stud service."

"Audrey fixed us enough food and drink for a week." Zack turned at the sound of his brother's voice. From the back of the house, Logan Cartwright ambled toward Zack and Lance carrying a red cooler. "But she refused to send along any beer. Said we wouldn't get a lick of work done."

Zack didn't bother hiding his surprise, or his irritation. "What are you doing here?"

As Logan placed the cooler onto the back of Zack's truck, he grinned. "Nice to see you, too, big brother. I'm coming to help with the fence. Lance said you could use some help. Or is this a first-sons only party?"

Lance slapped Logan on the shoulder. "It's a we-can-use-all-the-help-we-can-get kinda party. Let's get going. Audrey and I have a date later." He winked and gave them a c.o.c.ky grin as he headed for the pa.s.senger side. "Timing is everything."

They got in the DodgeZack behind the wheel, Lance beside him in the pa.s.senger's side, and Logan in the back next to Mandy's empty car seat.

Once they settled and Zack s.h.i.+fted into gear, Logan drawled, "You know, Lancelot, all that clock watching can take the fun out of the doing."

Zack chuckled at the old nickname as Lance looked over his shoulder. "Not really. But the pressure can get to me at times."

The fact that Lance let slide Logan's teasing him with his hated childhood nickname cued Zack into just how much stress his cousin was under. Zack glanced at him. Lance and his wife had been trying to have a baby since a riding accident caused her to lose her first pregnancy over a decade ago. Zack drove the truck through the gate into the pasture, heading back the way he'd come earlier. "When's that appointment with the fertility specialist y'all want to see?"