by Jule McBride
Val grinned. “Hmm. Well, I bet I know why you’re so interested, Alice.”
The women, including Alice’s mother, tittered.
Alice ducked her head and edged toward the door, hoping to get a better look at Nancy Nolan’s dreamy sixteen-year-old son, Dylan, while Ivory’s voice lowered with concern. “I don’t care what you say. I know you want to help the woman by giving her a job and a decent place to live. And she does seem nice. But it’s dangerous. She and her son have an air of...of...”
“Trouble about them,” murmured Val worriedly.
Alice watched Nancy Nolan shut the car door and head toward the store. She was slender and long-legged with thick, shoulder-length brown hair. Even her beat-up Chevy never stopped people from immediately noticing how much she resembled Jackie Kennedy. Despite the faded jeans and old plaid flannel shirts she wore, she moved as gracefully as a model, her hips swaying gently, her head turning from side to side as if she expected to find people staring at her, which they always were. There was such an aura of mystery and money surrounding her that even the most curious Rock Canyon residents couldn’t bring themselves to ask too many questions.
Almost too glamorous to be anybody’s mother, Alice decided. Nancy Nolan definitely seemed to have something to hide. But she had class, too, so whatever secrets she’d left behind, they probably wouldn’t follow. Nor would she ever talk about them. Nancy Nolan was the type of woman who took her secrets to the grave.
“Hello, Ms. Nolan,” Alice said as she came in.
“Hello, Alice.”
Now or never. Her heart skipping a beat, Alice ducked through the screen door and headed along the boardwalk connecting the main street’s stores. From the corner of her eye, she could see Dylan Nolan, sitting inside the rusted-out Chevy. His arm was propped in the open car window, and through it, Alice could hear oldies playing on the radio. She recognized the song—Sugarloaf’s “Green-Eyed Lady”—because her mother always kept their kitchen radio tuned to the same station, Top Rock of the Seventies.
“Hey there, Alice Eastman.”
Her heart pounded. Looking as nonchalant as she could, she headed toward the car just as Dylan’s well-defined lips formed the words, “Green-eyed lady, lovely lady.”
Because Alice had green eyes, she got the impression that Dylan was singing for her, and she blushed. “Uh, hi.”
“You are Alice, right?” he said. “My mom just got a job working for your dad, so we’re gonna be living on your ranch. Cool, huh?”
“Yeah.” She couldn’t believe he was talking to her. All the older girls were already in love with him. And who could blame them? Dylan had straight golden hair and liquid brown eyes that shouldn’t have been remarkable, but somehow were. He was sexier than any guy in the teen magazines Alice devoured. Her heart was still hammering as she leaned in the car window. Suddenly, she squinted. “Hey, did anybody ever tell you you look like Lang Devlyn?”
Dylan’s eyes sparked with recognition, as if he’d heard that a thousand times. “Yeah, but no one I could love.”
Love?
Alice giggled. Sixteen-year-old boys were such come-ons! Just like Lang Devlyn. In his heyday, Devlyn had been the King of Cool. Like Marlon Brando and Jimmy Dean, he was the strong, silent type, dressed in black leather, and was always photographed with fast motorcycles—and faster women. A rock-and-roll icon in the fifties, he later became a wealthy record producer. Even now, Alice’s mom would get gooey-eyed when his songs came on the radio.
Dylan was still smiling. “Is that all you want to ask me?”
No. Did she dare ask the rest? She rested her elbow on the window edge near his. “Well...” She paused, and then feeling bolder rushed on. “Everybody’s talking about you and your mom....”
“And?”
“And they say you might be on the run from something.” Leaning closer, Alice wondered if the sudden shiver she felt was due to the rumors or to her proximity to Dylan. Her voice hitched with apprehension. “Are you?”
“Nope.” Dylan’s irresistible smile deepened, showing a quick flash of straight white teeth, but Alice also noticed a dark shadow in his eyes—one so deep it made her shudder again despite the summer air. He continued, “But hey, maybe that’s why I remind you of Lang Devlyn.”
Alice squinted. “Why’s that?”
“The element of mystery.”
“Hmm.” The darkness in his eyes vanished, and she managed a flirtatious laugh, feeling self-conscious. Figures, she thought, I would get braces the week before meeting Dylan Nolan. “So, you’re a guy with a past, huh?”
“Or a future.” He shot her an easy grin. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll wind up marrying you, Alice Eastman.”
She couldn’t think of a thing to say, so she simply backed away from the Chevy, feeling her blush deepen. When her eyes met Dylan’s again, she couldn’t look away.
He couldn’t either. Suddenly, he sounded breathless. “It could happen, you know.”
“Us fall in love?” She was skeptical. Besides, he was being ridiculous. She was still in junior high. And he’d be going to Rock Canyon High. “I guess time will tell.”
His low sexy laugh carried more promise than any sixteen-year-old boy’s should. “Time might tell, Alice,” he returned. “But I never would.”
He’d all but come right out and said they’d have sex someday! Somehow, she managed a droll smile. “We’ll see about that, Dylan Nolan,” she managed to say. And then she simply turned away, coyly tossing a long braid over her shoulder, the way the older high school girls did.
“We sure will, Alice,” he called after her.
With every fiber of her being, Alice wanted to skip, but she forced herself to walk away slowly, gently swaying her hips as if she was already Dylan’s woman. She was only thirteen, but she already knew her own heart. She could definitely fall in love with Dylan. So what if he was joking? She would marry him. Of course, it would be years from now....
Meantime, she’d forget all the silly speculation about the stalkers, murderers and psychopaths who’d supposedly followed him to Rock Canyon. After all, nobody was going to murder her!
It would be years before Alice had good cause to revise that opinion.
“I’D RATHER LOOK at you than talk about all the bad stuff that’s happened, Alice.” Dylan pulled his new Ford truck near a secluded grassy spot in Cat’s Canyon that he and Alice had long ago claimed as their own.
She shot him a coy glance as he turned off the engine. “Well, look.”
“How could I do anything but, darlin’? You look great. C’mon.” Getting out, Dylan circled the truck, opened the passenger door and grabbed her hand. As they walked into the grass, toward an isolated hillock surrounded by trees, her pink, ankle-length sundress blew in the breeze. At twenty-two, she was all grown-up, which meant for days, Dylan had been worried about picking her up at the airport. Every time she’d come home from college, Alice had gotten even more sophisticated. And every time the changes unsettled Dylan.
Not that he was doing badly for himself. He’d been working for her father for years, full-time since high school, and with Ward Eastman’s health now in decline, Dylan was nearly running the Eastman ranch. Still, deep down, he guessed he was scared Alice would move beyond him someday. Elude him.
Wind up not marrying me.
Alice was watching him. “Thinking good thoughts?”
Dylan took in her face—her pale cheeks and green eyes, the white-blond hair that was cut above her shoulders and artfully held back from her face with clips. “I’m remembering the first time I saw you,” he said. “Outside the general store when you were thirteen.” When I said we might get married someday.
She grinned. “I was so embarrassed about my braces.”
Smiling back, he said, “You were cute as hell.” Watching her now, he remembered other days—her sitting on corral fences and catching fireflies, and how she’d shut her eyes and puckered her lips the first time he’d chastely kissed her. Of cour
se, lately those kisses had gotten deeper and more demanding, leading to fondling that left their bodies damp and hot and the truck windows steamed.
So, why couldn’t he ask Alice to marry him? Why hadn’t he already? The questions sent an unwanted darkness through Dylan’s soul, a deep sense of foreboding, of warning. He’d experienced so many bad dreams. Time after time, he’d awakened on dark, lonely nights in a cold terrifying sweat, trying to piece together his nightmares and wondering about the visions that haunted him. Sometimes he could almost see a house—a big white mansion, he thought—hidden by trees and surrounded by a high stone wall.
But who did the house belong to? Dylan didn’t know anyone who owned a mansion. And he couldn’t remember more about the lake in his dreams, either—or the swing set, which was near the lake. Sometimes he’d lie awake for hours, wondering who’d been swinging. Had it been him? Had a little friend been with him? If it was a memory, was his dad still alive?
But no...his mother always said Dylan was still a baby when his father died.
It’s nothing, Dylan. They’re just dreams.
And yet he’d described the dream-place to his mother once. She’d assured him it wasn’t anywhere they’d visited, but he could swear he’d seen recognition in her eyes. And fear. What didn’t his mother want him to remember? Why wouldn’t she talk about it? And how could he marry Alice when there was something so dark in him that was unresolved?
Dylan’s fingers tightened through hers. “Meet any guys at school last term?”
“Nope.” Urging Dylan down with her, Alice sat in the grass, then drew up her knees and hugged them. She grinned. “Meet any cute girls here in Rock Canyon, Wyoming?”
That made him laugh. “None I haven’t met before.”
“Good.”
Dylan sent her a long sideways glance. “Is it, Alice?” Do you want me? Are you ready to settle down?
She swallowed hard, glancing away. “I—I want to know what’s been happening around here, Dylan.”
He shrugged, unease coiling in his gut He felt so torn between the feelings of foreboding and wanting to rekindle the romance they’d shared when she was home during the Christmas holidays. “Nothing. It’s just I’ve had a bad feeling ever...ever since your prom.”
Alice shook her head ruefully. “Who would do that? Call and say your mother was dying? I’ll bet it was just some jealous guys from school.”
“Probably.” That’s what the cops had said. After all, Dylan had come from nowhere, and in his sophomore year, he’d become a top scholar and athlete at Rock Canyon High. Now, neither he nor Alice mentioned the similar calls that had made Dylan miss football games—including the one where a recruiter had come, which possibly cost him a scholarship.
Alice sighed. “And now Mom said someone messed with your mother’s credit rating.”
Dylan nodded. “A couple months ago. The police said it was hackers. Probably not locals. Just some kids fooling around, nothing personal.” Dylan shrugged. “With computers, they could have been from anywhere in the world.”
Alice looked relieved. “Well, that’s good.”
Trouble was, Dylan didn’t think the police were right. Slowly, over the years, he’d come to feel that so many small things in his own life didn’t add up. His mother had been forthcoming last year when he’d asked about their moves during his childhood, but not all the time lines jibed. And Dylan wanted to know more. Especially about those...dreams.
Or memories.
He was probably being paranoid, but he’d started to wonder if the disturbing calls were connected to the dreams. Or my father. His mother said Dylan was a few months old when he died, and that talking further about him upset her. Since she’d loved him so much, she said, she hadn’t even kept any pictures.
But that didn’t ring true. It was so unlike Dylan’s mother. They had boxes of snapshots from his childhood, from all over the country where they’d lived. So, why hadn’t she kept any of his dad? And why was she so closemouthed? On other issues, she’d tell Dylan whatever he wanted to know. He remembered the town gossip when he and his mother arrived in Rock Canyon, too, but that had died down. Long ago, she and Dylan had become respected members of the community.
But what if people were right? What if his mother had been hiding something years ago?
His lips parted. He started to open up, but then decided Alice didn’t need to hear all his doubts and worries. Besides, it was probably all in his head. He glanced at Alice. He was so proud of her. She’d graduated summa cum laude and she’d already gotten a job at the hospital down in River Run. Noticing hair had come loose from her clip, Dylan lifted a hand and brushed the silken strands from her forehead. He loved her hair. It was straight, fine and blond, and the softest thing he’d ever touched. He said, “You still remember when we met, huh?”
Swallowing hard, Alice scooted closer, put her arms around him and hugged him tight. “Yes, and I’m home to stay now, Dylan,” she urged softly.
“I’m glad,” he whispered, lowering his lips to hers. Years of want was in the gentle pressure, and Alice released a soft uninhibited sigh. Seconds later, she settled her palms on his shoulders and pushed him down into the grass. With a sweet smile, she broke their kiss, lifted her dress and playfully straddled him. His breath caught at the feel of how little fabric was between them, especially when she began rocking herself over the quick-hardening swell of him. His hungry eyes watched her unbutton the front of her dress.
“Alice—” Breathlessly, he reached a hand to stop her. He couldn’t believe it. Didn’t she know what she was doing? Sure, he’d touched her and kissed her breasts, but only when they were inside his truck, and in the dark. This was broad daylight. Licking his dry lips, he watched her release the front catch of her bra. Then the hand he’d raised to stop her edged aside a bra cup, and his gaze warmed on her breasts, which were small, pale, and perfect, with pert rose-tinged tips.
“Alice,” he said again. This time he tried to tease, but his voice came out hoarse. “You trying to seduce me here, darlin’?” Were they about to go all the way for the first time?
She giggled nervously. “Yes,” she whispered. “I think I am, Dylan Nolan.” Leaning, she pressed her mouth to his again. Coming closer still, she brought her breasts to his chest and rolled her hips, so he could feel her heat through her panties where she’d settled over his straining fly.
Moaning, he gave her more tongue, thrusting it deeper, his mouth soul-kissing and moving deftly on hers. Pushing both hands up, he found her breasts and teased the nipples, then his palm slid down, catching her hip, urging her to move faster on him, showing her how to ride him. They’d never lain like this, not with so much room or with her on top, and every touch was hot magic. Already, her movements were gloriously erratic, her breath excited.
Gasping against her mouth, he raggedly whispered, “Does it feel good, Alice?” He knew it did, but he wanted to hear.
“Yes,” she whimpered, languorously moving herself on the hard ridge of him. Her voice got raspier, more urgent, so low he barely heard. “I want to take off my panties,” she whispered with no guile, only longing. “I want us to make love, Dylan.”
Had he really heard right? His heart hammered, his voice felt strangled. “Alice, don’t you want to wait? Don’t you want a bed? It’s our first time, so—”
“No.”
The nipple he was still rolling between a thumb and finger was hard and aching, and her womanly heat was steadily pressuring where he was getting so painfully ready for her.
“I imagined it right here, Dylan,” she gasped. “Just like this. Where we used to hang out when we were kids.” Running her hands through his hair, she let the straight golden strands fall through her fingers. Emitting another whimper, she stopped moving. A whoosh of breath left him. More than life, he wanted to beg her to start loving him again. He’d love her back, too. He’d deny her nothing. Never. Certainly not the sweet loving tenderness in his heart now. Leaning his head back a fr
action, he hoarsely said, “I’ve never been with a woman. You know that, right?”
Her eyes widened. “I thought maybe while I was away at school...”
“Don’t you know?” he continued huskily, his whole body aching for her. “All these years, I’ve waited for you. I love you, Alice. I’ve never wanted—or been with—anybody else.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes that were so like the color of the grass. “Me, neither. I love you, too. Marry me, Dylan?”
He nodded. “All these years, you knew I would.”
“Yeah, I did.”
Emotion tore at him as she started to struggle upward. Wherever she was going, he stopped her by brushing his lips across her breasts. Flicking his tongue over the tips, he paused and suckled, the taste alone making him moan. He couldn’t get enough.
When she got up on her knees, still straddling and unbearably arousing him, he could merely stare at her—at the hard, dark peaks of breasts he’d kissed and the soft silken slopes of her belly and hips. She’d brought him near the edge, throbbing with want.
“Here,” he said. Holding her and rolling over, he gently, wordlessly urged her back, so she was lying on her open dress. Soft, hungry eyes watched him as he kicked off his boots, unzipped his jeans and slid them down his hips. She stripped down her underwear and opened her knees as he kneeled before her. Crouching close, he moved quickly into the cradle of her legs, using a hand to guide his hard hot length to her, and then he cupped her face with a free hand, loving the silken feel of skin against his work-callused palm. His throat felt raw. Even the light summer breeze was strong enough to sweep away his voice—it was that low. “Sure you don’t want a college boy, darlin’? You’re really ready to settle for this rancher?”
Her eyes were dreamy, making her look far away and yet close. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice catching as she arched to bring him inside her body. “I always have.”
Feeling her damp slick flesh start to close around him stole his smile. Hers vanished, too, and her eyes suddenly shone again with tears. Staring into them, Dylan could see his own emotions reflected there. “I’d give my life for you, Alice,” he whispered.