Nick, p.16
Nick, page 16
Michele shuddered. It would explain the animal's bizarre behavior.
Why hadn't she listened to Nick? He'd told her not to ride Jet.
No. He had ordered her not to ride him. That's why she'd foolishly gone to the stables. Her hardheaded, stubborn desire to prove herself had landed Michele in this compromising position, just like that night at the truck stop.
Oh, if she could turn back the clock.
But hindsight was twenty-twenty. Right now, she had more profound problems. Like how to get off Jet’s back without getting herself killed.
She tried again to rein him in, but Jet shook his head so violently, the leather snapped beneath her fingers, and Michele's arm flailed wildly. Terrified, she dropped the useless reins and laced her fingers through the stallion's mane and prayed.
Jet flew like hell demons breathed fire on his heels.
Michele squeezed her eyes tightly shut. How long before the drug wore off and Jet wound down? He couldn't sustain this pace forever.
The night enveloped them, tight as a glove. She slipped on his back and cried out. Her eyes opened wide in time to see him headed for a thicket of oak trees.
"No, Jet, no," she screamed.
But the horse paid no heed.
Clutching and grasping, she tried her best to remain astride the massive beast. Tree branches whooshed by, scratching at her pant legs. She'd known someone once who'd been run under a tree branch and killed.
Michele could see the same fate befalling her. She had to get off the horse. Now.
But how?
Jet broke through the thicket and started down a slight incline into a grass field. Beyond that loomed a virtual forest.
It's now or never, Mallory.
Looking down at the ground rushing beneath her, Michele swallowed hard. Could she dismount?
She must! She stood a far better chance of surviving if she initiated the fall.
Jet seemed to slow slightly.
She saw the opportunity and took it.
Sucking in a deep breath, Michele closed her eyes, let go, and rolled off the stallion's back.
AS QUICKLY AS HE COULD, Nick tied Hollis and Felix with nylon rope, then locked Hollis in his office closet and Felix in the tack room. Each minute not knowing where Michele was burned like an agonizing hour in his craw.
If she was seriously hurt, he'd give up law enforcement forever. And if she was killed—
No, he couldn't think like that. Michele would be fine. But the memory of Whirlwind's outrage came back to haunt him, stark and real. If Jet acted like Whirlwind had, Nick doubted even an expert horsewoman could survive.
Stepping out of the barn, he stood in the exercise yard, bewildered. Where to start looking?
As if in cosmic answer to his question, Jet came galloping around the stables.
Riderless.
Nick's heart contracted, his stomach lurched. He felt sick. Oh my God, please let Michele be all right. He had to find her. Now!
But the truck was back at the cottage, and he couldn't ride well enough to search for her on horseback.
Spying Felix's truck parked in the yard, Nick sucked in a breath and prayed. He wrenched open the door.
Keys dangling from the ignition greeted him.
He rushed back to throw wide the gate, then got in the veterinarian's pickup and started off across the pasture.
"Hang on, Michele; I'm coming, babe," he said.
A weird sensation of deja vu shivered over him. He'd been in this position before, frantically searching for her, guilt consuming his every thought. Would he never learn?
She'd told him herself, but he'd been too wrapped up in being right to pay attention to her needs.
His basic urge in life was to serve and protect. It was the reason he made such a good law enforcement officer. What he tended to forget was that others didn't always welcome his intervention.
In fact, Nick now realized, Michele probably saw his impulse to take care of her as a desire to control her. Although nothing was further from the truth, Nick might see how she could assume such a thing, given her years spent bucking a dominating father. Why had it taken him so long to come to that conclusion?
The truck headlights shone through the night. He drove in the direction from which Jet had come. Could he ever convince Michele that he wasn't like her father? That even though they engaged in heated arguments, they could still have a healthy, satisfying relationship?
"Ah, give it up, Nickerson. It'll never work," he mumbled under his breath, his eyes sweeping the landscape. "Just find her, make sure she's safe, wrap up the investigation, and go back to Austin."
Oh! What a lonely thought. Back to his crummy apartment and TV dinners. Back to silence and dust balls. Back to long nights in an empty bed.
His former existence sounded so unappealing. Damn Michele Mallory. She changed his whole perspective. Changed him!
After his divorce, before Michele, Nick had vowed to remain a bachelor. But the woman had him thinking of kids, dogs, horses, and a house with a white picket fence. Everything he’d always denied he wanted.
When his ex had left him, Nick had convinced himself he wasn't cut out for marriage. And he'd been happy playing the role of a carefree bachelor.
Until now.
"Michele, where are you?" he cried out, his heart aching, his hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.
Then, as if in answer to his prayers, he saw something moving in his peripheral vision. Nick trod on the brakes. Felix's truck fishtailed to a stop.
Michele!
Throwing the vehicle into Park, Nick was out the door with the motor still running.
She hobbled toward him.
Michele was hurt!
His heart sank like the slowest horse at the Derby. His fears had come true! She'd been injured again, and it was all his fault. He had not protected her.
He dashed across the field to meet her. "Oh, babe," he said in a choked whisper. "Are you okay?"
"Jet was drugged," she said, her own voice husky.
"I know... I..." God, how he wanted to touch her, kiss her, run his fingers through her hair. But he was afraid. Would she reject him?
"I had to dive off. I think I sprained my ankle."
"Oh, Michele, I was worried sick."
"Were you?" She gave him a curious glance.
"You don't know how much."
She said nothing.
"I busted Hollis and Felix. They're the ones doing the doping. Or at least Felix was. Hollis was turning a blind eye for the money from Martuchi. Hollis confessed."
"You arrested them without me?" She sank her hands on her hips.
"Well, babe, you were off on Jet, having your temper tantrum."
"You big dufus, I wasn't having a temper tantrum. I knew it was Hollis and Felix. I heard them too. I thought they were about to drug Jet, so I was rescuing him. Too late, I found out they'd already slipped him the amphetamines."
"At least you're safe, and the culprits are securely tied and locked up."
"And you did it all without me. Just like with Harbarger."
"What was my alternative, Michele? Let them destroy the evidence while I came to look for you?"
"I don't believe your audacity, Nickerson."
Was it his imagination or did her bottom lip tremble? Was she fighting back the tears? Michele Mallory? The bravest woman he'd ever met?
Tentative orange fingers clutched the eastern sky as the morning sun struggled to make its debut. The damp grass brushed against the tops of his boots. A meadowlark sang in the distance.
"It doesn't really matter who made the arrest, just so long as it's done."
"Easy for you to say," she replied bitterly. "You're the one in control."
"We're a team, you and me. Like a saddle and blanket, working together."
"Please, Nickerson, don't patronize me. You're one hundred percent maverick, and you love it. Nobody's ever going to tame you."
"Is that what worries you, Michele, that I couldn't be a one-woman man?" Much as he liked to flirt, Nick possessed a monogamous streak a mile wide. He'd always longed to find the right woman and build the kind of strong family structure that had been missing from his own childhood. And that woman was Michele Mallory. His heart shouted it to his brain. His gut agreed. He loved her.
"Don't even flatter yourself, Nickerson. Who would ever consider you husband material?"
"Ah, Mish." He reached out a hand to her, but she stumbled away from him. "What's the matter? Why are you feeling this way?"
"Why? Because once again, you've beaten me to the punch, Nickerson. You've made me look bad."
He shook his head. "No. That's not true. Something else is bothering you." The startled look in those navy-blue eyes told him he'd struck the truth. She was using her anger to hide her real emotions.
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, limping in the direction of Felix's truck. "Let's get back to the ranch house and get this over with."
"Let me carry you."
"No way!" she snarled at him.
"Why not?" he asked, walking beside her.
"I don't need you."
“Yes, you do.”
"That's your ego talking, Nickerson."
"You're lying, babe. You need me so badly, you can taste it."
“Ha!”
"Admit the truth, Mallory. You've picked a fight with me because you can't handle me getting close to you."
"Absolutely not."
"You're afraid of relationships. That's why you've never been married, why you claim you never will get married."
"That's a lie." She stopped to glare at him.
"You're terrified of ending up in a bad relationship like your parents. You're frightened of losing your identity. That's why you won't let me get near you."
"What a load of horse dung."
He shook his head, pain piercing his chest. He hated hurting her, but he had to make her see reality if they had any hope of a future together. "I thought you were brave and strong and courageous, but you're not. It's all bluster, isn't it, Mish, to hide your fear. You're terrified of falling in love with me. You're a coward. Admit it."
Her jaw tightened. Turning, she hobbled toward the pickup once again.
"Michele?"
"I HAVE NOTHING MORE to say to you, Nickerson. Now take me back to the ranch."
True. All true. Every word Nickerson had spoken. She was terrified of falling in love with him.
Throughout the crush of activity that followed, Michele tried to stop thinking about his accusation but couldn't. Was she already in love with this rugged, masculine, authoritative man? Where had she slipped up? How could she have lowered her guard so wholly?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Back at the ranch house, they called Charboneau. After dispatching a patrol car to pick up the culprits, the lieutenant regaled them with good news of his own. The other DPS team that had been keeping Mario Martuchi under surveillance had made an arrest that night as well, catching the mobster red-handed leaving the amphetamine lab with the drugs in his possession. The case had been successfully resolved. They could all go home.
The curious ranch hands gathered on the scene, rubbing their eyes and staring in amazement as Nick rounded up Hollis and Felix for the DPS troopers.
Nick called out to Elvira, asking her to take Michele to the bunkhouse and put an ice pack on her swollen ankle.
Michele, too tired and defeated to protest, allowed Elvira to help her across the exercise yard. She rested a hand against the little jockey's shoulder, grateful for the support.
"What happened?" Elvira asked, her eyes wide. She kept darting glances over her shoulder at Nick.
"Long story." Michele waved a hand. "I'll tell you about it later."
"What's wrong with Nick?" Elvira asked. "He looks like he just lost his best friend."
Did he? As they reached the bunkhouse, Michele stopped at the porch to search the gathering crowd for a glimpse of Nick. She spotted him, head and shoulders above the rest. Her eyes soaked up the sight of him like a race-weary Thoroughbred drinking at his water trough.
Nick did look tense, his jaw thrust forward, a scowl creasing his forehead as he led a handcuffed Felix out of the stables. Michele's heart snagged in her throat. Nick was angry. At her.
Was she so wrong to resist him? Could she relinquish her need for control to explore a relationship with Nick? Could she trust him? More to the point, could she trust herself?
Oh, how she wanted more from him. But she was afraid. Petrified to surrender herself to the mind, body, and soul possession that loving Nick Nickerson would demand. It was much safer to let the feelings between them disappear, along with the conclusion of this undercover case.
"Michele." Elvira held open the screen door and studied Michele's face intently. "Are you all right?"
Swallowing past the sadness choking her throat, Michele nodded and limped into the bunkhouse.
Yes, it was smarter to ignore the emotions Nick stirred in her. Far better to let those embers die than to fan the flames and watch helplessly as passion burned to spent ashes. No relationship could sustain the intense fires that dwelled in both their psyches. Any alliance between her and Nick would be just like her parents' union, hot, spicy, and destined for failure.
"Did you and your husband have a fight?" Elvira asked, guiding Michele over to a straight-backed kitchen chair. "You both seem out of sorts."
"He's not my husband," Michele said harshly.
Elvira's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "What do you mean?"
"We're undercover officers with the DPS. We were pretending to be newlyweds as part of our assignment."
Elvira emptied ice cubes from the tray and fashioned an ice pack out of a dish towel. "I don't believe it! I've never seen two people more in love than you and Nick."
"I'm not in love with him!" Michele stated hotly.
Elvira arched an eyebrow and handed Michele the ice pack. "You're a pretty good actress, then."
"Well, he's not in love with me," Michele insisted, although her pulse rate accelerated at her own words. "What makes you say that?"
"The way Nick looks at you. It's as obvious as the nose on your face he's crazy about you."
"You're imagining things."
"Trust me on this, Michele, I've been in lust enough times to spot the real thing. You guys were meant for each other." Could it be true? Was Nick really in love with her, and she was just too scared to see it?
No. If she knew anything about Nickerson, she knew he was the type to sweep a girl off her feet. Nick would face love like every other event in his life—head-on. If Nick loved her, he would come out and say so. He'd take charge and declare his feelings unabashedly.
"You're wrong," she told Elvira. "Nick would tell me if he was in love with me."
Elvira shrugged. "Maybe. You want some aspirin?"
She nodded, and Elvira went to the bathroom in search of the pills, leaving Michele alone with her disturbing thoughts.
Chapter Nineteen
ALTHOUGH EVERY INSTINCT he possessed urged Nick to stride into the bunkhouse, take Michele Mallory into his arms and kiss her silly, he knew he could not.
She would misconstrue any such actions on his part as controlling. Nick sat in the patrol car with Charboneau, describing the details of the arrest. It seemed his brain was on automatic pilot. While he talked rationally and calmly about the case to his boss, his thoughts leaped about like a rabbit running from a coyote.
Did Michele love him? Could they ever hope to make a go of their tumultuous relationship? How long could he resist before he told her point-blank how he felt?
Just the idea of going through the rest of his life without her tore a searing sensation across his gut. It would be damned hard, seeing her at headquarters. Running into her in the hallway, smelling her sassy cinnamon scent, watching her stride coolly away from him. Nick clenched his fist.
He must wait. She'd have to come to him. On her terms. Holding back took an act of pure will on Nick's part and spoke volumes about how much he had changed throughout this assignment. Although perhaps he'd genuinely started to change that night in the truck stop parking lot when he'd realized his hardheaded need to be in charge had almost cost Michele her life.
But what if she never comes around?
That plaintive thought had him shivering in his boots.
"Nickerson, you all right?"
"Fine, Lieutenant. No problem. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you."
"Oh?" Charboneau shot him a glance.
"It's about Michele."
"Go on."
"I couldn't have handled this investigation without her. She's calm under fire, dedicated and hardworking. I'm recommending her for promotion to Trooper Three."
"I thought you two didn't like each other."
"I can't speak for Michele, but personally I respect her immensely."
Charboneau placed a hand on Nick's shoulder. "It goes deeper than that, doesn't it, son? You're in love with her."
Nick swallowed. "Yeah," he said. "I guess I am."
"And she loves you?"
The burning in his gut increased. He met Charboneau's gaze. "She's breaking my heart, Lieutenant. Splitting it right in two."
THREE WEEKS PASSED. Michele hadn't seen Nickerson since that horrible morning they'd driven back from the Triple Fork in total, painful silence.
For three weeks, she'd limped around the station house like a zombie. She felt as if the very life had been sucked from her veins. Nick had kept his word about recommending her for Trooper Three. She'd just received confirmation of her new position the day before. The promotion was nice, but without Nick, the world was suddenly a darker, sadder place.
It's for the best, she tried to tell herself. Better to end this thing between them before it ever really got started than to dive headfirst into an affair that could only self-destruct.
Forgetting Nick Nickerson did not come easy, and today, the day of Jim Hollis's plea bargain hearing, she'd have to see him again.
