Coming Up Roses (29 page)

M
oonlight gilded the rose garden, etching the blooms and serrated leaves with silver. Kate leaned her arms on the fence and breathed in the evening air. She loved the smells of summer. Grass, clover, roses, and alfalfa, all floating on the light, heat-kissed mist from the river.

A light breeze played in her unbound hair and caressed her body through the muslin of her nightgown. Listening, she bent a knee to rest it on a rail. Rustling leaves, crickets, frogs, and the occasional chirp of a roosting bird. So much beauty, and yet so elusive to a troubled heart. She had lived here five years, and this was the first time in her memory that she had ever come out on a moonlit summer night simply to enjoy the beauty of it.

Peace… Kate closed her eyes to savor the feeling. Right after Ryan's visit earlier that day, she'd felt leaden with relief, but now that had given way to a glorious weightlessness.

It's over,
a voice within her whispered.

And Kate knew it truly was. Ever since Miranda's birth nearly five years ago, she had spent every waking moment in fear for her. These last seven months, that fearfulness had become a fixation. Now, she was no longer afraid. There was no reason to be. Miranda was safe, perfectly safe, and as long as Zachariah McGovern drew breath, she would always remain safe.

Heroes, and magic, and castles made of dreams… Foolish childhood fantasies. Kate could never believe in such things again. Her nose had been rubbed too hard in grim reality for her to do that. But she had spun those fantasies for her daughter, day after day, creating make-believe worlds all trimmed in gold because Miranda had needed a handful of magic. And somehow, crazy though it seemed, the fantasies had become real.

Tears filled Kate's eyes, and a tremulous smile touched her mouth. Miranda's hero, Zachariah McGovern. For a man of heroic proportions, Kate supposed he was a little rough around the edges. His castles were seven-room houses built out of straw. Instead of flowing silk garments, he wore dirt-smudged denim and faded chambray. He had ridden to their rescue on a sorrel gelding named Dander instead of a prancing white steed. And last but not least, he didn't have a magic wand. But he was a hero, just the same. And in his own way, he had worked magic, filling their lives with laughter, making them feel safe when Kate had despaired of ever feeling safe again.

Miranda's hero.

And now Kate's. She wasn't sure how it had happened, or when it had happened, but she had fallen in love with him, rough edges and all. Deeply and irrevocably in love. And she wanted a life with him. Tossing griddle cakes in the air. Flipping peas with spoons. She wanted it all with no threats hanging over her head, with no fear that it could all be snatched away.

The faint sound of a door closing caught Kate's attention. She turned her gaze toward the house to see the object of her thoughts emerging from the shadows to stand at the top of the steps. Dressed only in jeans that rode low on his hipbones, he struck an unnervingly male pose, one knee bent, hands at his waist, his muscular chest and shoulders gleaming like burnished silver in the moonlight. When he spotted her, the tension flowed from his body, and he descended the steps in two easy strides.

"Katie?" His voice cut through the gloom, low and whispery, yet gruff. "Why didn't you tell me you were going outside? I woke up, and all I had in bed with me was a kid and a dog."

Before she could form a reply, he stepped on something with his bare foot. "Jesus H. Christ!"

Kate smiled to herself as he gimped his way toward her. Bracing a hand on the wobbly fence, he vaulted over, his body a harmony of motion, the perfect blend of strength and agility. As always, she felt dwarfed when he drew up beside her. Dwarfed, but not threatened. Never that, not with Zachariah.

"Are you okay?"

"I just had some thinking to do, and this seemed like the right place." She inclined her head at the garden. "Good-bye to the old, hello to the new."

He leaned on the fence beside her. The touch of his arm was warm and vibrantly male, making Kate aware of her body as she had never been. His shimmering gaze searched hers for a long moment. "Joseph?" he asked.

She studied her hands, uncertain how to express her feelings. "He's ruled my life for so long, Zachariah. I think it's high time to put him behind me."

"Amen to that."

She nibbled her lip. "I'm afraid you don't understand. I mean really behind me." She looked up, her heart in her throat. "You'll probably think I'm crazy. After all you've done—with the garden and all."

She saw the tendons along his throat convulse as he swallowed. He fixed his gaze on the distant mountains.

"You've decided to turn yourself in."

It wasn't a question, and by that Kate knew he did understand, probably far better than she had hoped. "He still has a hold on me. He always will if I leave things as they are." Tears stung her eyes, but she didn't try to blink them away. Not with this man. "I want my life back. I know it's crazy, but I'll never feel free of him unless I—"

"Honey, you don't have to explain. I knew you'd decide to do it sooner or later. I just didn't expect it now."

"Would you like me to wait?"

He sighed. "No. I just—" He broke off and turned his dark head to study her. "What about Miranda? They might lock you up." His voice went hard-edged. "Jesus, Katie, think about this, really think. Do you understand what's at stake? An inquest. If that goes badly, you could be indicted and have to stand trial. It could take weeks, maybe months. Are you ready for that? Is she?"

Kate felt as though someone were closing his hands around her throat. She wasn't all that familiar with court proceedings. No small wonder since Joseph hadn't allowed her much contact with the outside world. "You mean the sheriff can't decide?"

"The sheriff?" His dark face looked harsh and alien to her when he turned to regard her. "Honey, a man's been killed."

"But it was an accident."

"The sheriff doesn't have the authority to decide that."

"You mean I'll have to be in jail and tried for murder?"

He exhaled with a weary sigh and ran a hand over his face. "That depends on the coroner's findings. If he can't tell for sure how Joseph really died, it'll go before a grand jury and be their decision." When his gaze returned to hers, he looked more grim than Kate had ever seen him. "The grand jury will decide whether or not there's sufficient evidence to make you stand trial. Seven jurors, Katie girl, all men. Most of them with wives who have had reason to clobber them a time or two."

"Husbands?" she echoed hollowly.

"Husbands," he affirmed. Though his eyes glinted with seriousness, his mouth quirked slightly at the corners.

"Hopefully fair-minded individuals who won't hand down an indictment. But if you go to trial, you can count on the prosecuting attorney to make it look as bad for you as he can. That's his job, to get convictions."

Kate steepled her fingers and pressed their tips against her lips. "Oh, Zachariah, what do you think I should do?"

He laughed low in his chest, but there was no humor in the sound. "Don't lay that on me. It's too tempting to play autocrat. You have to make the decision. The outcome will have an effect on me, yes, but you and Miranda will suffer most."

Kate gazed off across the valley, swamped by memories. For so long, she had never been allowed to make decisions, not about anything. And now she was being forced to make the most important one of her life. There was a part of her that nearly wished Zachariah would play autocrat. But she knew that was fear raising its head.

One of the most special things about him was that he treated her like a thinking individual.

Her decision… Kate shoved the fear back and focused on the issues that had brought her out here tonight in the first place. Being free of Joseph, putting all of this behind her. She could never do that until she faced things. In short, risks or no, there was only one thing she could do.

"Miranda will have you," she whispered. "She doesn't need me anymore. Not really."

"Oh, honey…" He shifted sideways to brush the tears from her cheeks. "Of course she needs you. She'll always need you."

"You don't understand. I'm not sad about it. I'm glad, wonderfully glad." Kate caught his wrist and pressed a kiss to his rough palm. "If something happened—if I disappeared from her life, she'd be sad for a while, but she'd be all right. Because she has you. I don't have to worry about what might happen to her anymore. Not the way I used to. That was the one hold Joseph still had on me, and now it's gone."

"What about you?" He twisted his wrist to catch her hand in his strong grip. "What about you, Katie? Have you thought of that? We can leave Joseph where he is. You don't have to take the risk. Having him planted there isn't eating on my conscience any, not under the circumstances. The way I see it, a rose garden is better than he deserves."

"It is eating at me, though," she whispered. "Sometimes, life makes it impossible to choose between right and wrong, and we do what we must. We keep secrets that haunt us because to reveal them might hurt someone we love."

At the words, he averted his face, looking for all the world as though she had struck him.

"Zachariah? You understand what I'm saying, don't you?" she asked anxiously.

"Unfortunately, yes." He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. "We all have a secret or two that haunts us, I reckon. And sometimes circumstances dictate." His mouth curved in a grim smile. "Instead of doing the right thing, we do what we feel we have to. I understand. Maybe better than you think."

"Seven months ago, I did the unthinkable to protect my child. Now she doesn't need protecting, and I'm free to do the right thing, even though it's late in coming. It's a loose end for me, Zachariah. Please say you understand."

"Honey, of course I understand. But what if you're tried for murder and found guilty? Not to say it might happen that way. I don't think it will. But what if it did?"

A quiver of fear attacked Kate's stomach. When she finally managed to speak, her voice came out thin and tremulous. "Then you'll have to raise my daughter. Will you promise to do that?"

"Our daughter," he corrected in a deep whisper. "And yes, I give you my oath. I'll raise her and love her with every breath I take. But given my druthers, I'd like to have her ma in the bargain."

Looking into his eyes, Kate knew in her heart that he would keep that oath, no matter what. Not just for her, but because he loved the child. Magic wishes did indeed come true, and Miranda had gotten hers, a new pa who was really something.

"It's a matter I must tend to," she said softly. "I can't live the rest of my life with the threat of discovery banging over my head." She moistened her lips. "Don't you see, Zachariah? You can't have me in the bargain, not really.

Not as long as I'm shackled to the past."

He touched light fingertips to her temple. "Like I said, it's your decision to make, but that doesn't stop me from being afraid for you. Once you take that step, I can't protect you anymore. You do understand that?"

Kate understood all too well. "I—I know it's a lot to ask, but would you consider going with me when I tell the sheriff? I'd feel better if you were there."

He moaned low in his throat and drew her into his arms. "Honey, I'd walk straight into hell with you." He splayed a hand over her back. "You couldn't keep me away if you hogtied me."

Kate encircled his waist with her arms, realizing as she did that this was the first time she had ever returned his embrace. She pressed a cheek to his bare chest and breathed in the scent of him. His skin bore faint traces of sweat and sun-dried denim, grass and hay, little-girl sweetness and musky dog. Being in his arms, holding him close… It felt so right, so perfectly and wonderfully right.

With him beside her, she felt ready to face just about anything, even being charged with murder.