Jessie's Child. Lois Faye Dyer

switched off the television and turned off the lights as she left the living room to walk down the hallway to her bedroom. A lamp glowed softly on the bedside table, casting shadows into the corners of the comfortable room. Jessie loved her little house and had spent hours sanding woodwork, painting walls and making it uniquely hers. The rest of the house reflected the reality that a three-year-old boy lived here but this room was her sanctuary. Here, she’d indulged herself with pale green silk curtains that matched the spread and pillow shams on the walnut four-poster bed. The bed had been her great-grandmother’s and, like the matching nightstands, bureau and oval mirror, its polished surface gleamed with years of loving care.

      The quiet surroundings had always had the power to soothe and relax her but tonight the room didn’t calm her worries about Rowdy and Zach. Even after she’d showered, dressed in a cotton tank top and loose pajama bottoms, climbed into bed and switched off the lamp, her mind continued to whirl with all the possible ramifications of Zach’s return to Wolf Creek.

      When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of Zach and the first time he’d come to her rescue. It was during the summer she was ten and he was already a tall, lanky teenager of fifteen….

      The first summer after her grandfather died seemed longer and hotter than usual. Jessie and her best friend, Sarah, tried to keep cool by swimming in the stock pond and spending Saturday afternoons in the air-conditioned theater.

      Following a movie one Saturday, Jessie and Sarah stopped at Muller’s Candy Shoppe before meeting Sarah’s mother at the library. They were contemplating a purchase when the string of bells hanging on the door jingled loudly and two teenage boys entered the nearly empty store.

      “Well, well, if it isn’t a McCloud. Heard from your convict brother lately?”

      Jessie stiffened at the jeering tone in Lonnie Kerrigan’s voice. Determined to ignore him, she resolutely stared at the glass case and the rainbow display of saltwater toffee inside. She wished Mr. Muller hadn’t stepped into the back room. The bell she could use to call him back was located at the far end of the counter by the cash register, too far away for her to reach.

      “What’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue?”

      He brushed past her, bumping her in the process.

      “Don’t pay any attention to him, Jessie,” Sarah urged.

      Jessie glanced sideways and saw that her friend’s eyes were fearful as she watched the blocky teenager on Jessie’s other side.

      “Yeah, kid. Don’t pay any attention to me.” Lonnie leaned against the candy display, grinning with malicious enjoyment at Sarah’s concern.

      “I won’t,” Jessie said, filled with hate and loathing for the bully. “You’re not worth it.”

      “Is that right?” She heard the sneer in his voice. “All you McClouds are the same. You’re a little young, but I’m sure it won’t be long before your brother Luke joins Chase in jail.” He waved expansively at the interior of the candy shop. “I’m surprised you’re allowed in here without supervision. Wonder if Mr. Muller knows he’s got a future criminal in his store?”

      Goaded beyond endurance, Jessie turned to face him, furious. “You’re a pig, Lonnie Kerrigan. You should be in jail, not Chase. You’re the criminal—you and your whole family!”

      She glared up at him, daring him to do anything about her harsh words. At ten, she was several feet shorter than the seventeen-year-old and he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds. She didn’t care. Three months earlier, she’d watched as Chase was handcuffed and driven away from their grandfather’s funeral in a police car. She blamed Lonnie for her brother’s absence and she hated him with a depth and passion she’d never before felt in her short life.

      A blond teenage girl standing near the door giggled at Jessie’s words and Lonnie flushed, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer, bending toward Jessie.

      “You little bitch.”

      Her mother would have washed his mouth out with soap for using that word. Jessie stuck out her chin and refused to back down.

      He grabbed her arm and twisted. The pain was excruciating but Jessie wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Instead, she glared harder, blinking back tears.

      “Let her go.”

      Lonnie’s gaze left hers and he looked over her head at someone behind her. His mouth tightened before he sneered again. “Stay out of it, Zach. This is none of your business.”

      “I’m making it my business. She’s just a kid. Let her go.”

      “You taking her place?”

      “If I have to.”

      Lonnie laughed and his grip loosened. He pushed Jessie and she stumbled sideways against the glass display case.

      “Hey, none of that in here! You two take it outside if you have to fight,” Mr. Muller said firmly.

      Jessie glanced over her shoulder. The gray-haired, heavyset owner of the store left the doorway to the back room and leaned over the counter, frowning at Lonnie and Zach.

      “Yeah, yeah,” Lonnie snarled. “We’re goin’.”

      Zach spun on his heel and stalked out of the shop, followed by Lonnie, his friend and the two teenage girls.

      “Come on.” Jessie grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her across the room and out the door in time to see the teenagers disappear into the alley. She and Sarah ran to the corner of the building and stopped, peering around the edge.

      Lonnie was taller, heavier and had a longer reach than his younger cousin, who at fifteen was still rangy with lighter muscle on his fast-growing body. Within minutes, blood was oozing from Zach’s nose and welling from a cut on his lip, his right eye was red and bruised. He didn’t stop, however, and no matter how many times Lonnie knocked him down, he got up and kept swinging. By the time a police officer, probably called by Mr. Muller, arrived to break up the fight, both boys were bleeding from their faces and knuckles. Their white T-shirts were ripped, smeared with dirt and stained with blood spatters.

      “Wow, Jessie,” Sarah said in awe as the policeman marched the battered combatants down the street toward the police station. “He stood up for you and made Lonnie leave you alone. Why did he do that?”

      “I don’t know. He’s a Kerrigan. He probably just likes to get into fights and beat up people.” Jessie was pleased that her voice sounded unconcerned and dismissive. But she was secretly amazed that Zach Kerrigan had kept Lonnie from hurting her. Why? Could he possibly dislike Lonnie and his bullying as much as she did?

      Jessie woke, struggling through clinging shreds of sleep and dreams. She sat up, rubbing her hands over her face in an effort to clear away the images of her ten-year-old self watching Zach fight Lonnie in the dust of the alley behind Muller’s Candy Shoppe.

      The residue of half-remembered conflicted emotions churned, accompanied by the memory of Zach’s battered face on that long-ago afternoon.

      Had he saved her that day because he was being kind to a child being bullied? Or had he simply taken advantage of an excuse to fight Lonnie? It was no secret that the Kerrigans often exploded into physical violence.

      She tipped the bedside clock so she could read the time.

      “Two o’clock? Ugh.” She lay down, punching her pillow. She had to be at the office by seven and made a mental note to brew extra-strong coffee in the morning.

      Chapter Two

      Zach Kerrigan slid out of the booth in the back of the coffee shop and stood, settling his straw cowboy hat on his head as he walked to the front of the restaurant. He’d been absent from Wolf Creek for years but several ranchers seated at the booths and tables nodded hello as he passed. He returned the silent greeting, recognizing a few of the older men.

      He