The Virgin and Zach Coulter (2 page)

“Oh, I believe you,” she said hastily. “I just can't believe that's the first thing that comes to mind when you've climbed a mountain most people only dream of attempting.”

He shrugged, broad shoulders shifting beneath the leather jacket.

“It was…awe inspiring.” The teasing quality was gone from his voice. “Like standing on top of the world.”

If she'd been attracted earlier by his teasing smile
and unconcealed male interest, she found herself even more powerfully drawn by the depth and sincerity in his words.

“It must have been amazing,” she said with a sigh. “I've never had an experience like that. The highest I've ever been—outside an airplane—is standing on top of the Empire State Building's observation deck and looking down on the streets of New York.”

“I've done that, too.” He smiled down at her, easy charm once more in place. “I liked it.”

“So did I,” she said drily. “But it hardly compares with climbing Mount Everest.”

“Maybe, but it's much warmer. And there aren't as many obstacles along the way, which is always a plus,” he commented. “As hallmark experiences go, there's a lot to be said for the Empire State Building's observation deck.”

She shook her head, smiling. “If we're comparing dangerous experiences, I'm betting climbing scary-high mountain wins.”

He chuckled, the sound reverberating and sending shivers up her spine.

No wonder he had a reputation as a heartbreaker back in high school, Cynthia thought, blinking against the sudden urge to step closer, lay her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat and tuck her face against the warm, strong column of his throat to breathe in the subtle scent of his aftershave.
I need to get a grip.

Before she could comment, the patter of feet on concrete sounded behind her, accompanied by the shrieks of children.

“Douglas, watch where you're going!” a feminine voice warned.

The cautionary warning came too late. One of the little boys crashed into Cynthia from behind, knocking her forward.

And straight into Zach.

Her hands rested on his chest and his arms instantly wrapped around her. She was swamped with a flood of emotions—desire, and an odd sense of security. He was much taller than she and the top of her head barely reached his chin. The body she pressed against was solid and strong, the muscles of his chest hard where her palms flattened against him. Up close, the curve of his mouth was unbelievably seductive and his green eyes darkened as she stared.

Belatedly realizing she was lying against him, unmoving, she stirred and his arms instantly loosened. His hands shifted to her shoulders, his firm hold steadying her as she stepped back before he released her fully.

“I'm so sorry. Are you all right?” A worried female voice broke the spell.

Cynthia glanced over her shoulder at the flustered young mother, her gaze dropping to the little boy the woman held firmly by the hand.

“Yes.” She managed a shaky smile as she turned to face them. “Yes, I'm fine. No harm done.”

Relief moved over the young woman's face. “Thank goodness.” She bent to the little boy. “Douglas, apologize to the lady.”

“Sorry.” The child looked up at Cynthia through thick lashes.

He was adorable. Charmed, she couldn't be upset with him.

“That's okay,” she said, smiling at him.

He rewarded her with an ear-to-ear grin that lit his face before he bashfully ducked his head.

With a final apology, the two women and their charges set off down the street.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Cynthia turned to face Zach.

His green gaze was intent, focused on her. She was instantly swamped with the memory of his arms around her, the sensation of her body pressed against his.

“Thanks for catching me,” she said. The effort to appear cool and unaffected by those brief moments took all her control.

“Anytime.” His mouth curved in a slow, wholly masculine smile.

Cynthia's heartbeat stuttered before settling in a faster, harder rhythm.

With great effort, she pulled her gaze from his mouth and glanced at her watch. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Zach—and welcome back to Indian Springs. I have to run. I have an appointment.” As she spoke, she took several backward steps down the sidewalk. “I'm sure I'll see you around. It's such a small town.” She smiled vaguely and turned on her heel. Walking swiftly and purposefully, she headed toward her car that was parked halfway down the block.

And felt his intense gaze with every step she took.

 

Zach watched her go, surprised at the speed with which she'd gone from friendly conversation to abrupt
departure. His gaze tracked her smooth, graceful walk, the slight sway of her hips and the silky blond ponytail that brushed against her shoulders with each step.

Tired though he was after days of travel and little sleep, every cell in his body had snapped to attention the minute he'd seen her. Riveted, his eyes had swept her from head to toe, his body tightening as he did. Her legs were encased in snug jeans, and the red stiletto heels on her small feet made her legs look even longer. Her hair brushed against the red sweater she wore. A shopping bag and small leather handbag dangled from one hand.

He'd only been a few feet away when she attempted to step around the older, beefy cowboy blocking her path.

Zach registered the instant tenseness that gripped the slim, curvy female body.

Then she'd turned and he'd seen her face. Heart-shaped, with dark brows winging above deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, a stubborn little chin below a lush mouth—she was outrageously feminine.

The swift urge to protect and claim swept through him.

Down the sidewalk, Cynthia stepped off the curb and opened the driver's door of a bright red sports car. A moment later, she backed out of the parking slot and drove away.

Zach shook his head. He hadn't reacted to a woman with this much instant lust since he was a teenager. He shrugged and turned to stride to the entrance of the Anderson Law Office only yards away.

It must be the lack of sleep,
he told himself.

Even as he blamed his reaction to Cynthia on exhaustion, Zach knew he was lying. He had to admit she'd knocked him off stride without trying, and when she'd smiled…

Damn,
he thought ruefully. Just thinking about her smiling up at him was enough to make him want to turn around, find her and see if he could tease her into laughing again.

He realized he was standing outside the law office door, a half smile on his face, and shook his head to clear it.

He needed to focus on seeing the attorney and heading out to the Triple C.

He couldn't help but wonder what Ned Anderson might reveal about his father—and if the attorney could explain why Joseph Coulter had named his sons in his will. Zach had avoided any thoughts about his estranged father for so long that having to talk about him felt strange—and oddly painful.

He steeled himself and pushed open the door.

C
himes rang, announcing his presence as Zach entered the attorney's office.

“Is Ned Anderson in?” he asked the receptionist.

“No, I'm sorry, he's not. Do you have an appointment?” The older woman eyed him over half-glasses.

“No. My brother told me to stop and talk to him before I head home, but if he's not available I'll come back tomorrow.” Zach turned toward the door, not the slightest disappointed that the lawyer wasn't in. He'd rather be at the ranch, sleeping in a warm bed, instead of meeting with his father's estate attorney. He'd been traveling nonstop for nearly a week to get this far. The journey from the base camp at Mount Everest, where he'd spoken with Cade, had required hiking with stubborn pack mules, a train to the nearest city, and finally several airline flights just to reach the U.S. This morning he'd boarded an 11:00 a.m. flight from Seattle to
Billings, where he'd rented the truck and driven to Indian Springs.

“Wait!” The woman's voice stopped him and he looked back at her. “Are you Zach Coulter?”

“Yeah.” He paused to look back at her.

“Mr. Anderson had an emergency in Great Falls today, but he asked me to give you something if you arrived while he was gone.” She quickly bustled across the waiting area and entered an office. A second later, she popped back out. “Here it is.” She held out a sealed manila envelope and a silver ring holding a collection of metal keys. “He said to tell you the letter and enclosures explain everything and that he'll be back in the office next week. He hopes you'll come in to see him then.”

Zach took the keys and envelope from her outstretched hand.

“I'll do that.” He nodded and left the office. He returned to his truck, tossing the envelope on the passenger seat and shoving the key ring into his jeans pocket before backing out. As he drove off, he glanced at the wide plate-glass window of the attorney's office. Anderson's receptionist watched him, lifting a hand in a wave of farewell.

He returned the gesture, realizing that he'd forgotten how friendly the people in his hometown could be. He liked the energy and convenience of living in San Francisco. It was the perfect base for someone who traveled as much as he did. But he couldn't remember the last time a business acquaintance in the city had waved goodbye to him.

Zach obeyed the twenty-five miles per hour speed limit, giving him time to assess the buildings and shops
lining Main Street. Surprisingly, not much had changed in the thirteen years he'd been gone. The Black Bear Bar and Restaurant still took up the corner across from the pharmacy. The big door of Miller's Feed Store was rolled up and stood open for business. The neon sign over the Indian Springs Café still flashed bright red, and Connors Auto Parts had dusty ranch trucks parked at the curb out front.

There were several small shops he didn't remember but all in all, Zach was pleasantly surprised to find his hometown apparently alive and well.

Driving through the center of the town where he'd grown up brought a wash of memories. Picking up speed as he drove toward the Triple C, every mile that brought him closer to his boyhood home held even more.

At last he slowed, braked to turn off the highway and drove beneath a tall, welded metal arch that spelled out Coulter Cattle Company in graceful curves. The lane was edged with pastures dotted with sagebrush before it rounded the base of a butte and topped a rise.

Zach braked, letting the engine idle. At nearly five o'clock the late-afternoon sun highlighted the familiar buildings clustered at the foot of a flat-topped butte on the far side of the valley. From this distance, the ranch looked exactly the same as it had on the morning he'd driven away years ago—for what he'd sworn was the last time.

And damned if he wasn't glad to be here, he thought with surprise. He hadn't seen Cade in nearly a year and it was always good to catch up with his brother. As for returning to the ranch? There was an odd mix of reluctance to see the place and an uncomfortable weight on
his chest that reminded him of the way he'd felt after his mother had died. That same heaviness had returned when he'd left the Triple C, and again when Cade had told him Joseph was dead.

He shook his head. He'd never spent a lot of time examining his feelings and he didn't plan to start now. It was enough that he wasn't turning the truck around and heading back to San Francisco.

What the hell,
he thought with a shrug. Life was full of surprises. He'd never expected to be driving down this road again.

He shifted the truck into gear and left the crest of the hill, following the gravel road as it descended to the valley floor. The wood-and-iron bridge rattled beneath the wheels as he crossed the creek before the road climbed again to reach the buildings.

Zach automatically swung the truck in a wide circle before parking in front of the house with the nose of the truck pointing toward the exit.

An older pickup sat in front of the bunkhouse across the graveled ranch yard, and a newer model silver truck was parked just beyond Zach's pickup.

Guessing the newer vehicle belonged to Cade, Zach grabbed his duffel bag from the jump seat and stepped out, stretching in an attempt to relieve the aches from the long days of nonstop travel.

The gate in the fence to the house yard opened without a creak when he lifted the latch.

Cade had obviously been doing a lot of work on the place, Zach thought as he closed the gate behind him, his gaze assessing the semicircle of buildings facing the house around the large yard. The bunkhouse was freshly
painted and although the barn, machine shop and other buildings were weatherworn, the structures appeared to be solid.

He turned back to the house, running a quick glance over the roofline and corners. Fresh white paint and green trim around the windows and doors had the old house looking better than Zach remembered it.

He strode up the walk, crossed the porch and stepped inside without knocking. The aroma of simmering pot roast filled the air and he caught the murmur of a radio from the direction of the kitchen.

“Hello? Anyone home?” He dropped his duffel bag just inside the door. “Cade?”

“We're in the kitchen—come on back,” a feminine voice called.

Zach wondered if Cade had hired a housekeeper. He walked down the hall and entered the kitchen just as the woman standing at the stove turned to look over her shoulder. Her eyes widened in surprise before her lips curved in a smile, lighting up her face.

“Hey,” he drawled, stopping just inside the door to glance around the room. “I'm looking for Cade—”

The door to the back porch opened and his brother stepped inside, halting abruptly.

“Zach.” Cade crossed the room and grabbed him in a brief, hard hug before stepping back. Eyes as green as Zach's narrowed as he stared. “It's good to see you—but damn, you look like hell.”

Zach laughed. “And hello to you, too.”

Cade laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “I'm glad you're back. Even if you do look like you haven't slept in a week.”

“I probably haven't,” Zach drawled. “I plan to say hello and find the nearest empty bed to sleep for a day or two. Have you heard from Eli or Brodie?”

“Not yet. I'm hoping you'll ask your ace assistant to join the search.”

Zach shrugged. “Angela's never failed to find whatever she's looked for. Want me to call her?”

“Yeah,” Cade said. “Any help she can give us would be great. It can wait until you get some rest, though.”

“All right.” A movement behind Cade caught Zach's attention and he looked over his brother's shoulder. The pretty blonde was smoothing her fingertips over her lashes, her brown eyes damp.

Cade turned, his gaze following Zach's.

“Mariah, honey.” His deep voice gentled and it held a note Zach had never heard from his big brother.

Intrigued, he studied their faces as Cade walked to the woman and slung an arm around her shoulders to pull her close against his side.

“This is Mariah Jones, Zach,” Cade said, his quiet voice filled with pride and love. “As soon as I can convince her to settle on a date, we're getting married.”

Zach felt his eyes widen, and his gaze sharpened on the woman's beautiful face. She smiled at him before tipping her head back to look up at Cade, the love in her expression matching his brother's.

“I'll be damned,” Zach murmured. “Congratulations, Cade. And welcome to the family, Mariah.” He shook his head, stunned and trying to absorb the fact that his oldest brother was in love. “Never thought I'd see the day when one of us got married.”

Mariah laughed, her smile impish. “You're second born, Zach, which means you're next.”

“No.” He held up his hands, palms out, before crossing his index fingers in the classic gesture to ward off evil. “No way. Not gonna happen.”

Cade's deep chuckle blended with Mariah's laughter.

A sudden yawn caught Zach by surprise and he scrubbed his hand down his face, feeling the scratch of beard stubble. “Sorry,” he apologized. Exhaustion hit him like a wave. “I haven't slept much over the last few days. Not to mention the time zone change. I'm jet-lagged
and
sleep-deprived.”

“We weren't sure how long it would take you to get here, but as soon as you called from Nepal we put clean sheets and blankets on the bed in your old room,” Cade said. “Why don't you head upstairs? We can talk later.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Zach agreed. “Nice to meet you, Mariah. Will I see you later?”

“I'll be around when you wake up,” she told him.

“Good.” He nodded and turned away. “Good night, you two.” He lifted a hand in farewell, their echoes of “good night” following him down the hall. He paused at the front door to collect his duffel bag and then climbed the stairs to the second floor. The door to his old bedroom stood open and he turned on the bedside lamp, dropping his duffel on the bed before closing the door.

He was too tired to do more than give the room a cursory inspection but did register that while the furniture was the same, someone had hung new curtains. The room was clean, the top of the pine wood dresser
where he dropped his wallet and assorted clutter from his pockets dust-free.

He shucked off his boots and jeans, pulled his shirt off over his head and clad in only his boxers, slid between the sheets.

Just before he fell asleep, he thought about how Cynthia Deacon had fit into his arms as if custom made just for him. And he wondered how long it would be before he could see her again.