Thunder at Dawn Read online

  But the man leaned toward her and the words wouldn’t come.

  “Help,” she finally gasped. But her tongue was thick and the words were soft. Too soft, too weak.

  Too late.

  Chapter 13

  “NOTHING HAPPENED TO ME, ZACH.”

  Faith’s shoulders were so tense her neck ached. “I grew up, that’s all. My take on the world isn’t the same as when I was a teenager, just as yours isn’t. Or are you going to try to tell me you haven’t changed as well, when it’s clear that you have?”

  “I can see why you make a good lawyer, Faith. You’re quite adept at dodging the issue.”

  Her spine stiffened against the back of the seat. She wasn’t about to unburden anything about herself to Zach. Not now, not ever.

  “My life isn’t an open book for your inspection,” she retorted. “But if you must know, it’s a good life and I’m happy with it. I enjoy my family and my friends, I’ve been successful at my career—” She broke off, her stomach clenching. “Well, I have been, up until recently,” she muttered. Her tone was bitter. “I’m sure you heard about it. Everyone else has.”

  He glanced over at her. “That death penalty case. The real murderer turning up later.” He’d read it in the paper, every word. “That must have been rough.”

  “You could say that.” Unbidden, an image of Jimmy Clement, white-faced in court, and of his mother and young brother weeping behind him, flashed in her mind. Pain throbbed in her temples. She tried to blink the images away.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Faith.” Zach passed the sign for Casper. “You were doing your job, based on the evidence you had—”

  “Do we have to talk about this?” she interrupted him. “I came to Thunder Creek for a vacation. To forget about work for a while.”

  “Sorry.” Obviously he’d touched a nerve. The case meant a lot more to her than she was willing to let on, Zach thought. It must have devastated her more than he’d even imagined.

  “Anything else you need to know, Zach?” she asked in a low, angry tone.

  “Actually, I was wondering if there’s anyone special in your life these days.”

  “No.”

  The curtness of her answer had him glancing over at her. Another sore spot. There was someone—or there had been. He’d been tempted to ask Roy or Patti or Bessie, but it hadn’t felt right. Anything he needed to know from Faith he had to find out firsthand. He owed her that. And a lot more.

  Before he could ask her anything else though, she leaned forward and switched on the radio. Glen Campbell blared into the car between them, singing “Wichita Lineman”—loudly. Too loudly for conversation.

  Okay, Faith, he thought, settling back in his seat. We’ll play it your way—for now.

  The restaurant in Casper was a steakhouse, big as an old-fashioned saloon but with a private section that had large and small banquettes tucked away in the dark back room. A few lanterns and some fat votive candles on the white-clothed tables provided the only light.

  In this private room, cattlemen and oilmen made million-dollar deals in the quiet dimness over steak, whiskey, and cigars.

  But tonight there were only a scattering of couples in the sumptuous red leather booths. Faith sat across from Zach, studying the menu intently.

  This was feeling a bit too much like a date. And it seemed absurd to go on a date with Zach. She bit her lip, pretending to read about aged prime rib and filet mignon, about potatoes au gratin and ranchhouse salad. But she was intensely aware of the man sitting across from her, and of the determination she’d noticed in his expression as they drove across the county.

  He ordered a bottle of wine. They selected entrées. Faith had never felt more uncomfortable. Not when she was in law school, not when she was in court—even when she was being blasted by Judge Kirkpatrick while trying her first case. This odd formal silence with Zach was driving her crazy.

  She took a long sip of her wine, then another. Across the table, he studied her with those intent silver-gray eyes of his, and she suspected he saw much more than she wanted him to see.

  “Is it me?” he asked abruptly. “Am I rattling you, or was it that phone call? Maybe it’s time you told me who Hank is.”

  She nearly choked on her wine, then swallowed and set her glass down with a soft thump. The truth was, she’d almost forgotten about Bayman and her phone call with Susan until he’d just mentioned them.

  She drew a deep breath. “Hank is Hank Bayman. He’s a jerk, a scumbag.” She was almost grateful for the chance to talk about something that wasn’t personal between her and Zach. “He almost killed his wife a couple of times and he’d try again if he could. Nothing seems to stop him—not personal protection orders, not getting arrested. The guy’s a bully who belongs behind bars.”

  “And you prosecuted him?”

  She nodded. “Unfortunately we got stuck with a judge who has a mind-set from the 1800s. He only gave Bayman thirty days and probation instead of the tough sentence I requested. In other words, he basically let him back out on the street to terrorize his wife and kids again.”

  She paused until the waiter had set a basket of sourdough bread and a plate of honey butter in the center of the table.

  “While he was serving his thirty days, Susan and her children were in a women’s shelter, recovering mentally and physically from his latest illegal visit. I helped her get out of town while he was still locked up.”

  Zach said nothing, but his mouth was set in a grim line.

  “She’s in hiding now, out of state, with her kids. She has a new name, a job—and I made sure no one knows how to find her. But—”

  “He’s out now,” Zach said. “And he’s been nosing around.”

  “I’d bet on it.” She told him how Bayman had gone missing, but Zach wasn’t ready to let the subject drop there.

  “He’s been calling you,” he said. “That’s what you told Susan.”

  Faith shrugged, but her eyes slid away from his. “I’m not worried about it. He has no idea where I am.”

  “Is he calling your cell phone?”

  “Yes, but—”

  She broke off as the waiter, who’d been about to set down their salads, hesitated a moment. The man had caught the dark expression on Zach’s face and looked for a moment like he was going to beat a quick retreat. Then he set the bowls down before them and hurried back to the kitchen.

  “How the hell does he have your cell phone number?” Zach growled before she could say anything. “And how does he know you helped Susan leave town?”

  “Bayman used to be a cop.” She picked up her fork. “Until he got busted for taking bribes, that is. He still has contacts on the force. That’s why I was careful to keep things close to the vest, but . . . someone must have found out something and filled him in.”

  “What does he say when he calls you?”

  “Nothing.” Faith didn’t like talking about Bayman. Especially to Zach. Bayman was her business, her problem. Zach had nothing to do with her life. “He’s silent. Except . . .” She suddenly remembered the soft laughter. “Except the last time,” she finished.

  He was studying her much too intently. “What happened the last time, Faith?” he asked in a deliberate tone.

  “It was . . . a little different. He . . . laughed. This weird kind of creepy laugh.” She fought off a shudder. “He was probably hoping to scare me out of my wits—which he didn’t do,” she added firmly. “That worked on Susan, because he knew where she was, and he liked to call her and then just show up in the middle of the night.”

  Zach listened, his eyes narrowed.

  “It didn’t matter if Susan had an alarm system, double-bolt locks on the door, whatever—he’d find a way in and she’d wake up and find him standing over her.” Faith’s tone hardened. “He beat her with a baseball bat one time—ripped up her sheets and pillows with a knife another. He’s into fear.”

  She stabbed a forkful of salad and paused with it in midair, meeting Zach’
s eyes.

  “I’m not,” she said coolly. “He doesn’t get to me.”

  Zach saw the stark determination in her eyes, and something plummetted inside his stomach. No, Faith wasn’t into fear. But he was afraid for her. He leaned forward.

  “And that man I saw the other night sneaking around outside your cabin? Maybe that was Bayman—maybe he’s found you. Did you ever think of that?”

  “It crossed my mind.” She spoke casually, though in truth, the idea had made her skin crawl.

  “If he has, you’re in danger, Faith.”

  “You don’t know if he has, and neither do I. But if he wants to tangle with me, I’m ready for him. A lot more ready than Susan ever was.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I own that gun you saw the other night—and I know how to use it. My father taught me when I was a kid, plus I’ve taken classes in both gun safety and marksmanship. Don’t worry, Zach, I have no qualms about protecting myself. If Bayman comes after me—”

  “You might never get a chance to pick up that gun,” he said sharply. “What the hell are you doing staying alone out on Blue Moon Mesa when a psychopath is looking for you?”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. He looked ready to hit someone. Faith felt pretty sure it was Bayman. A tiny shock reverberated through her.

  Why did Zach care so much what happened to her? They hadn’t had any contact, not one word, since the night he’d walked out on her—not until she returned to Thunder Creek and found out he was here as well. And all of a sudden, he was sticking his nose into her business—worrying about her?

  “I don’t know that Bayman is here, or even that he knows where I am,” she said. “But if he is here, and if he does happen to cross my path, that’s really my problem, isn’t it?”

  “Somehow I don’t think your big brothers Ty and Adam and your cousin Roy would see things that way.” His tone was rough. “Maybe I should drop a hint in their ears. Maybe you should move in with Roy and Corinne instead of staying alone at the—”

  “Maybe you should mind your own business!” Faith jumped out of the booth, her eyes sparking. But at that moment the waiter appeared again, bearing their meals, and she gritted her teeth under his startled gaze, then slowly sank back into her seat.

  “I want you to promise me you won’t say anything to Roy,” she said the moment the waiter left.

  Zach controlled the anger and concern rushing through him. But his mouth tightened as he met her furious gaze.

  “I don’t make promises anymore that I can’t guarantee I’ll keep,” he said slowly.

  Faith froze, staring into his eyes. They were locked on hers and she couldn’t look away.

  So . . . he remembers. That night. That last night we were together . . . the promises he made me before he left and blew everything to smithereens.

  She steeled herself against the pain clenching her heart, against the memories of those long-ago days and nights, against the old broken longing and the almost overwhelming desire to reach for his hand, to reach for him . . .

  “What do you say we call a truce, Faith?” His tone had altered. So had the hard expression in his eyes. He looked at her quietly and she felt emotion well in her throat. “No more arguments for the rest of the night. For the next few hours, why don’t we just try to enjoy each other’s company?”

  You don’t ask for much, do you? The old pain was lodged in her throat, making it difficult to speak. She took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on the rush of emotions he still had the power to evoke in her.

  She was a grown-up woman now, not a devastated teenager—she wouldn’t let him see her wearing her heart on her sleeve.

  “I have no problem with that,” she lied, and even managed a small indifferent shrug. “What would you like to talk about?”

  Something neutral that won’t make you close up like a clam, he thought, noting the rigid line of her beautiful throat, the mulish tilt of her chin.

  It didn’t take him long to think of a safe topic. As she cut into her steak he regarded her with a quizzical smile.

  “How about money?”

  Chapter 14

  IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT WHEN ZACH MADE A right turn onto the narrow darkened road that would take them to Blue Moon Mesa.

  Beside him, Faith sat with her head tilted slightly away from him, gazing out the passenger side window.

  He couldn’t begin to imagine what she was thinking.

  He’d spent the past few hours over coffee and dessert and the ride home telling her about the million-dollar donation he planned to make to the hospital-wing fund and outlining what he wanted done with it—including instituting a new pediatric and trauma center.

  He specified that he wanted his donation kept secret and announced at the dinner dance, with the hopes that others would be inspired that night to give as much as they could.

  But his gut tightened when he remembered the way Faith had looked at him after he’d made that statement. At first there’d been delight and pleasure in those beautiful eyes—and, he swore, appreciation. Then her entire body had stiffened.

  “What’s wrong?” he’d asked. “You’re looking at me like I’m one of your clients who just confessed to murder.”

  “I’ve just realized why you’re doing this.”

  “Yeah? And why is that?”

  She’d tried to sound nonchalant but he’d heard the coolness in her tone. It flayed him like a whip. “It’s good PR. You want to gain the support of the community. For TexCorp Oil and for that camp you’re planning.”

  He hadn’t spoken for a moment. And when he did, his voice had been rough, thick with sarcasm. “You got me,” he lied. “You’ve really got me pegged, Faith. When did you become so cynical? Or should I say, so smart?”

  “It’s all right,” she’d said stiffly. “I’m not judging you. The donation is unbelievably generous and it will go to good use. But . . .”

  “But I’m doing it to manipulate people in this town who might not trust me . . . or who might oppose my plans?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s obvious. Right?”

  Without waiting for her answer, he’d called for the check. They’d left the restaurant moments later and there had been little conversation on the ride home.

  So what? Zach asked himself as they drove past Shadow Point, Thunder Creek’s famed makeout spot, where he and Faith had spent countless evenings kissing and groping each other in the dark.

  So she thinks you’re a manipulative jerk. The same guy who put Pete in a coma and married Alicia and never gave her another thought. When the hell do you care? Since when do you give a damn about what anyone thinks—except Dillon?

  But when it came to Faith, he did care. It was crazy. No one could hurt him anymore, but Faith Barclay could look at him with disappointment or wariness in her eyes and it was like an axe hacking through his heart.

  Screw it, he thought. There’s no way to get a second chance, no way to make things right. Too much bad history. The girl who believed in Zach McCallum that summer doesn’t even exist anymore.

  He pulled up before the cabin and braked sharply. She’d left a light on and it glowed cozily golden through the window.

  Automatically, he scanned the grounds, assuring himself that the figure he’d seen the other night wasn’t lurking in the darkness.

  There was no sign of anyone. Still, he got out of the car as she opened the passenger-side door and stalked around to escort her to her door.

  “You don’t need to—” she began, but stopped at the grim expression on his face. Silently, she walked beside him to the porch, up the steps.

  “It was a lovely dinner,” Faith began. Then she caught the bitter darkness in his eyes and the words died in her throat.

  “I’m sorry, Zach.” It was a whisper. For some reason, she wanted to cry. “I was . . . wrong.”

  He faced her on the porch, his face hard. Closed. “Yeah? About what?”<
br />
  “You’re not manipulating the town with your donation. That was stupid of me. I apologize.” She swallowed. “The boy I knew would never do something like that. I did him a disservice.”

  “I’m not that boy anymore, Faith,” he told her curtly. “You don’t know a thing about me. About what I’ve done these past years or about who I am.”

  “I know enough. You never did suck up to people. You never gave a damn what anyone thought. You don’t need the goodwill of Thunder Creek to do whatever you want with your money and your power. I should have remembered that.”

  His eyes glinted angrily in the moonlight. “Damn straight.”

  Suddenly, he looked so much like the wild, angry boy she remembered that she smiled, her heart filling with a rushing warmth that took her by surprise. “Come here,” she said impulsively.

  She didn’t know why, but she grabbed his hand and began to run, tugging him along with her. She ran to the tree where they’d kissed that summer and pulled him beneath the branches with her in the darkness.

  “Rememember that day we hiked all the way to Shadow Point from here? I thought I knew you better than I knew myself that day. I’d never felt so close to anyone before.”

  “I remember.” His tone was rough. “I thought we’d be together forever.”

  Her hands gripped both of his. “It was a long time ago, Zach. Too much has happened and we’re both so different now. But I should have known that some things don’t change. Whatever was between us then is gone, I know that, but you never were a suck-up and I was wrong to imply that—”

  “You’re wrong about something else, Faith. Whatever was between us—it’s not gone.” He took a step closer, his fingers closing around hers. “It’s never gone away. You’re either blind or you’re lying to yourself. And the girl I knew didn’t lie to anyone.”

  She gaped at him. It’s not gone. It’s never gone away. She shook her head. “We don’t even know each other anymore. We have different lives. Different dreams. Zach, you left me—you married someone else.” To her dismay, her voice trembled as the unexpected rush of words poured out of her. “You never even told me you were leaving—”