Page 29 of Homicide in Water Creek

“I could have used a friendly face.”

King frowned as he stroked her temple with his thumb. “You have to remember I was under the impression you didn’t want anything to do with me, especially after Granddaddy came back and said you didn’t want visitors. I couldn’t do anything but respect that. You’d been stabbed and—”

Her finger came down on his lips. “Don’t say it.”

He spoke with her finger still in place. “It’s been a long time, sweetheart. Can you still not say it?”

“That I was assaulted, both physically and sexually? Yeah, I can say it. I can say it, and my heart doesn’t even react. I just can’t stand the thought of hearing you say it.”

He grasped her wrist and lowered it to her leg. “I won’t say it then, okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or sad. I do want to say that what happened to you was unjust, and it nearly broke me.” She raised a brow. “You heard me. The idea was almost too much to bear. My Jacks was hurt by someone, and I wasn’t here to protect her,” he whispered, pain in his voice. “What kind of man walks away from his hometown when he damn well knew he was already where he wanted to be? A coward. A man who's afraid to fight for what he wants. A man who believed in the man he looked up to all his life. I never should have left you alone here.”

Jacks grasped King’s face, pressing her forehead to his. When they touched, she inhaled deeply. “You couldn’t have saved me that night, King. It was going to happen from the moment I decided I didn’t need to take the four-wheeler into town and would ride the horse. It was going to happen from the moment I left the cowboys at the bar and walked behind it to unhook Lester from his mooring. It was going to happen from the moment Wyatt Franson decided the word no didn’t apply to him. No one could have stopped what was going to happen. I’ve accepted that. I stopped blaming myself a long time ago.”

“How?” he asked desperately. “How did you stop blaming yourself?”

“Eventually, I realized I hadn’t done anything wrong. If I kept thinking I could have changed it, done something different, fought harder, not had a bum leg, or a million other things, I would be in a prison of my own for the rest of my life. I live in the freest place in the world, and every second I gave that guy headspace, I gave up some of that freedom. He’s in prison, and I’m free, so I had to let myself be free.”

He nodded, and both of their heads bobbed together. “You’re right. You're right about all of it.”

“I never wanted you to know, but I suspected you did. Grandaddy said he never told you, but I had bets on Keene or the files at the station.”

“Why didn’t you want me to know?”

“Pride, I suppose?” she asked, and he waited, clearly not understanding. “I didn’t want you to see me as damaged goods. I don’t see myself that way until I put myself in the place of a man who might consider…” She trailed off. “I don’t know.”

“A man who might consider caring about you?” King asked gently.

“Probably,” she said, and he could tell that admitting it was hard for her. “I want to be someone’s everything, but they have to understand that what happened to me matters. It matters, but it doesn’t define me.”

“Oh, Jacks,” he whispered as he tugged her to him and wrapped his arms around her again. “You have no idea how much you matter to me. You have no idea how much what happened to you matters to me. I hope someday you’ll understand how much you matter to me and how much I care about you. I care enough about you to burn bridges with the man who raised me. I’ll keep slaying your dragons until you take the sword. I have no problem with that.”

Their gazes met, and hers brimmed with unshed tears. “I always thought what happened to me was shameful and made me seem weak in your eyes. It turns out the opposite was true.”

His lips came down on hers in a desperate bid to be closer to her. Lying back on the couch, he pulled her down over his chest without breaking the kiss. Her hands were tangled in his hair, and her legs straddled his waist, the brace digging into the bone as a reminder that she was stronger than any woman he’d ever known and that she still needed him to slay her dragons.

Chapter Thirteen

Jacks stood in the darkness, straining to make out the figure in black. She knew who it was, but couldn’t make out what he was doing. As she was being thoroughly and completely kissed by one hot and sexy Sheriff King, the clock struck midnight. She’d reminded him that she had to check curfew before they took things any further. Boy, did she want to take them all the way with the man she’d been in love with for years. But it didn’t take them long to realize someone was missing from that bunkroom.

Darting outside quietly, they started to search for him, not surprised to find Chinos in the arena.

“What is he doing?” King was plastered to her back, his hand on his gun as they watched.

“That’s the bucking chute,” Jacks whispered.

Chinos looked up. They froze, but he quickly returned to his work. Within minutes, he strode from the arena, and the door closed with a thud.

King laid a finger against her lips. “Do not move.” His words were steely enough that she could do nothing but nod.

He jogged toward the back of the arena and stood by a window. Three minutes later, he was back at her side. “He’s now in the bunkhouse. We need to get to the main house and talk to Jackson. Would you know if anything was amiss with the chute? I know what they do, but not the mechanics.”

“No, that’s Granddaddy’s thing, not mine. I ride horses, not bucking broncos. I do know that if he somehow tampered with it and it doesn’t open when it should, the horse could get hurt, or the rider could go over the top and break their neck.”

King took her hand, and they walked to the same exit Chinos had used. They didn’t have a choice. The only way to avoid walking past the bunkhouse was to use that door. They waited another five minutes, then he pulled his gun, opened the door slowly, and swung the gun left and right before motioning her out. They took a right and headed toward the house at a fast walk, since her brace kept her from running.

They climbed the stairs, and Jacks pulled her keys from her pocket, not interested in waiting for Jackson to answer her knock. Besides, he was probably asleep. Better to wake him slowly at his age. She led them into the kitchen and closed the door behind them, holding up a finger. “Let me get him.”

She hurried into the living room and stopped in her tracks. Keene and Jackson were sitting on the couch as if they were waiting for them.