Against the Wind (30 page)

S
arah sat at a table in a room at the district attorney's office. Carolyn Gallegos, Assistant District Attorney, sat across from her, an attractive Hispanic woman in her forties. Richard Kemp of the FBI, in his dark blue suit and power tie, was also there, as well as Sarah's lawyer, Morgan Slater, late forties, salt-and-pepper hair, a man who exuded power and control.

Most importantly, Jackson sat beside her.

The deal was almost finished. The FBI was practically salivating to get their hands on Andrew's disk. Amazingly, no one really doubted her story. They knew enough about Andrew's reputation to figure it was probably true. Or maybe they figured no matter the reason she shot him, he deserved it.

At any rate, her heart was gently pulsing with hope and whenever she looked over at Jackson, she saw confidence in the hard lines of his face.

“There's just one last thing, Ms. Allen,” Richard Kemp said. “We'll need to know the name of the person who sent you the gun used in the shooting.”

Her stomach dropped. Her heart set up a clatter. She had no idea what to say—only what not to say—and that was Patty Gorski's name. Not even the threat of prison could pry out those words.

Jackson reached beneath the table and took hold of her hand.

Morgan Slater must have read her decision in her face because he spoke up before she could form any sort of reply.

“My client isn't certain who sent her the revolver. She belonged to several internet chat groups for battered women. Some of them knew about the beatings she had suffered at the hands of her husband. The package came anonymously, disguised as clothing purchased on the internet. There was a note but it merely said she should use the gun if necessary in order to protect herself.”

“Where is that note now?” Carolyn Gallegos asked.

“I burned it months ago,” Sarah answered truthfully. “I was afraid of what Andrew would do to me if he found it.”

“I see,” Ms. Gallegos said. And Sarah thought that maybe she actually did. She was a woman. In her work, she must have dealt with dozens of cases of abuse. She closed the notebook sitting open in front of her. “As far as this office is concerned, the matter is resolved. Special Agent Kemp?”

He flicked a glance at Jackson, but fixed his attention on Sarah's lawyer. “If you can provide us with the disk, we'll support the district attorney's decision.”

Sarah drew in a shaky breath and blinked to keep from crying.

“It's over, Sarah,” Morgan Slater said gently, rising to his feet. “I'll take care of whatever paperwork is necessary. You and Mr. Raines are free to leave.”

The tears rushed past her defenses and this time she could not will them away. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Slater smiled. “It was my pleasure.” And it seemed as though he meant it. His exorbitant fee aside, clearly he believed she had shot her husband in self-defense and was glad he could help. Maybe there were more people out there than she had imagined who understood what she had been through with Andrew.

She left the district attorney's office and as she descended the wide stone steps leading down to the street, held on to Jackson's hand.

He stopped when they reached the curb. “It's over, Sarah.”

“I'll never be able to repay you for what you've done.”

He actually grinned. “Oh, I think you will.” And the look in his eyes was so hot she laughed.

“Let's get married,” he said.

“Now?”

“Anytime you say.”

She swallowed past the lump that rose in her throat. “As soon as we get back to the ranch, I'll marry you. I love you, Jackson Raines.”

A
glorious sun shone down from a sky so vibrant a blue it seemed surreal. It was amazing how quickly a wedding could be put together when the people you love all pitched in to help.

She and Jackson were repeating their vows on a grassy rise behind the ranch house. Chairs had been set up and an arbor perched at the end of a long white runner beneath the leafy branches of a pair of alder trees.

Holly was the flower girl, dropping rose petals as she walked between the rows of white rented chairs. Nan was her bridesmaid, looking radiant in a lavender tea-length gown. Her grandmother sat next to Livvy in the front row, dabbing away happy tears. Since Sarah didn't have a father, she walked down the aisle with Jimmy, while Dev and Gabe stood next to Jackson, acting as his best men.

Nan did an excellent job of ignoring her former beau, which definitely didn't please him. Sarah figured it was only a matter of time until Jimmy realized his feelings for Nan ran deep, and the two of them got back together. But, of course, she couldn't be sure.

She returned her attention to the tall man waiting for her under the white roses entwined in the arbor. In her simply cut cream silk gown trimmed with matching cream lace, she walked toward him. The dress had a narrow skirt that came to just above her knees, and she wore matching cream satin, very high heels.

Jackson looked ruggedly handsome in a black Western-cut tuxedo and black lizard-skin boots. All of the men in the bridal party wore matching suits, black boots and black cowboy hats, which seemed fitting out here on the ranch.

The service was lovely. Though Sarah barely registered the minister's words, she would never forget her husband's kiss, sweet and tender, yet fierce and utterly possessive.

All of her friends were there: her boss, Smiley Reed, and his girlfriend, Myra Cunningham; Mike Stevens; Jackson's attorney, Thomas Carson; the Whittakers from the ranch next door; Cody and Marilyn Dillon; Sheriff Webster; Fred Wilkins and his wife from the mercantile. There were at least a dozen others, longtime friends of Jackson's. It was amazing how they all managed to get there on such short notice.

Only one person was missing.

Sarah had called her, of course, and told her about the wedding. She had told her best friend everything that had happened and how it had all turned out. That
the investigation was finally closed and both of them were safe. They had talked for nearly an hour.

Both of them had cried.

But Patty lived in Chicago and there was no way she could get all the way to Wyoming with only a week's notice. The airfare alone would be staggering.

Sarah felt Jackson's arm around her waist as he led her away from the big tent set up over rows of buffet tables and a dance floor.

“I've got a surprise for you.”

She smiled. “A surprise?”

He just grinned and tipped his head toward the house.

Sarah's gaze swung in that direction and she froze. A robust woman with bright red hair in a short, hot pink dress ran toward her, waving and wobbling on high heels she was clearly not used to wearing. Tears sprang into Sarah's eyes.

Patty Gorski.

“My plane was late taking off,” Patty said, fighting to catch her breath. “Jackson sent a car to the airport to pick me up. Thank God it was still waiting when I finally got here.”

“Patty! Oh, my God, I can't believe you're really here.” Sarah went into the older woman's arms and the two women hugged. “I can't believe you actually came.”

“Jackson called me. He sent a ticket and made all the arrangements. He said there wasn't going to be a wedding unless I came.”

“Oh, Patty.” The women embraced again.

“You're prettier than your picture,” Patty said, grinning up at her.

“You're shorter than I thought.”

Both of them laughed.

Sarah looked over at Jackson. “This is the best wedding gift you ever could have given me. Thank you so much, Jackson.”

He just smiled.

Patty eyed him from top to bottom, leaned over and whispered, “My God, he's gorgeous.” She straightened and grinned. “A man like that might be enough to make me contemplate marriage again.”

Sarah laughed.

Patty turned serious. “I got the check. It came special delivery yesterday. Oh, my God—half a million dollars!”

“Just remember it's supposed to be an anonymous donation.”

“Well, officially it is.”

The numbers Jackson had found on the paper in her luggage had turned out to be another account in the Cayman Offshore Corporation. This one belonged to Andrew. With the numbers, they were able to withdraw the money Andrew had intended to take with him to Rio, all he had left of his ill-gotten gains. It seemed only fitting that Patty Gorski's battered women's group get the benefit of the funds.

“Listen, you two,” Patty said. “This is your wedding day. I can only stay a couple of hours, then I have to head back home.”

“But you've come all this way!”

“I came to meet you and I came to thank you for the money. Besides, Jackson promised to bring you to Chicago. We'll have all the time we need to really get to know each other. Now go on and enjoy yourself.”

Sarah looked up at her tall, ruggedly handsome husband. “I'll expect you to keep your word on that,” she said with a smile.

Jackson caught her chin, bent and lightly kissed her. “Count on it, darlin'.”

Sweeping Patty along with them toward the tent, Sarah made introductions, including Holly, left Patty with Livvy and went with Jackson to cut the wedding cake.

“Come on, Mom,” Holly said, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the white, four-layer cake trimmed with fresh roses. “Everybody's waiting!”

“Well, then, we'd better get it done.” Sarah looked around her, at the friends and family she had come to love. “Thank you,” she said to Jackson, “for everything.”

He gave her a wicked smile. “You can thank me properly later.”

Sarah grinned up at him, thinking how happy this man made her, imagining their wedding night.

And planning to do just that.

I hope you enjoyed Jackson and Sarah in
Against the Wind,
the first book in my Raines Brothers Trilogy.

Gabriel's story is next. Even in the bustling city of Dallas, Gabe's Western background shines through. Gabe owns a big construction company. He's a man's man and exactly what auburn-haired Mattie Baker is looking for—even if she refuses to believe it.

But Gabe's company, Raines Construction, is being threatened by an arsonist and Gabe has to find him—before he and Mattie become the man's victims.

I hope you'll watch for
Against the Fire,
out next month in February, followed closely by Devlin's story,
Against the Law,
out one month later, in March 2011.

Till then, all best wishes and happy reading,

 

Kat Martin