by Jodi Thomas
Madison leaned back. “Any more questions?”
“Yeah,” Fifth said. “What in the hell is he doing in my town?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Hunter green shadows
PARKER WALKED OUT her door at sunset. She still wore Clint’s shirt, but she’d changed into jeans.
All day she’d thought of his proposition. If a man in Dallas had said such a thing in a bar, she’d think it was just a line. But her cowboy hadn’t been flirting with her. He hadn’t spent time flattering her or trying to talk her into anything. He’d just made her an offer, then rode off, as if knowing she’d need time to think about it.
One night. No promises. No forever.
Exactly what she needed. One night to remember when she was in the hospital. One memory of being loved by a stranger as if she meant something special to someone.
In the twilight, she could see his pickup parked at the end of her lane. Waiting.
Maybe she should walk down there and tell him she’d changed her mind. Wild affairs, or whatever this was, were not her style. She tended to have short relationships, where she spent six months trying to make it work, trying to make it right, and then another three months trying to figure out how to end it without shattering pride or furniture.
She began strolling toward the road, thinking about what she’d say. It would be easy; after all, they weren’t in a relationship. They hadn’t even begun one. They’d kissed. That was all.
He probably didn’t care one way or the other. Who knows—maybe he regretted making the offer in the first place. Maybe he realized that since they couldn’t even seem to carry on a conversation, they weren’t likely to spend all night together.
Unless they slept. Why would they do that? Both had beds they could sleep in alone. Both were obviously used to sleeping alone.
Maybe she’d go down the lane and have a talk...maybe a few kisses, and see where it went from there. Whenever she got tired, she’d have him bring her home.
She was not spending the night.
Probably not having sex.
Definitely not having sex.
He climbed out of the truck as she neared, adjusted his hat low against the dying sun and just watched her.
The man looked near perfect in his boots and jeans.
Parker lifted her chin. She would thank him for the offer. It was flattering even if all he seemed to be offering was a one-night stand.
Yes. She would be polite but firm, then say good-night, she reasoned.
Well, maybe one kiss. Or two. The cowboy did know how to kiss.
Parker frowned. Her thoughts were like a game of Ping-Pong. Her sex life apparently had become bipolar.
She was five feet away when she saw him smile. He was even more handsome when he smiled. Who was she kidding? Clint Montgomery would be handsome sound asleep.
“Good evening,” she said formally.
“Evening, Parker.” He held his hand out as if inviting her to join him.
“I thought I’d come...” She put her fingers in his and forgot what else she’d been about to say.
He tugged her toward him until she stood an inch away. Then, without a word, he lowered his head and kissed her.
One kiss, as soft as a midnight breeze. A beginning. A hello kiss.
When she melted against him, he turned her gently and pressed her back against the truck door. His body felt so good as he leaned into her and began lightly kissing her throat as if he thought his lips belonged there.
She knew she needed to set a few rules. She needed to take control of the evening. He needed to understand.
She’d interrupt him in a minute or two. They’d talk then. After he finished silently saying hello.
He finally pulled away and looked down at her. “How about we don’t talk more than necessary? No promises. No lies. You say stop and I bring you back right here.”
She nodded. That seemed enough rules. End of a debate that hadn’t started.
He took his time kissing her the second time, letting her know that he wasn’t going to hurry. Then he straightened and helped her into the truck.
He drove with his hand on her leg. He wasn’t holding her, just lightly touching her as if she might need calming.
Maybe she did need calming. Every cell in her body was jumpy, and she swore her blood was running double time through her veins.
When he passed the entrance to his place, she opened her mouth to question. Then she remembered the rules.
A few minutes later, he turned off on a dirt road. When he stopped to open a gate, she thought of sliding beneath the wheel and driving away.
What was she doing out here with a man she barely knew? With her luck, this was where he buried the bodies. This way, he didn’t have to drag her out to Nowhere, Texas, to kill her. She was coming along silently, of her own volition, with Prospective Victim written on her forehead. If this were documented on one of those crime shows, it wouldn’t last long enough to be interrupted by a commercial.
When he climbed back in the cab, he shifted into first gear and put his hand back on her leg like it belonged there.
He got out again to close the gate, and her last chance to escape was gone.
“You all right?” he asked when he slid back in.
“Yes,” she lied.
“There’s something you got to see.” He drove down a road that was no more than two worn lines in the grass. The world grew darker and darker until the two beams from the headlights were all the visible light.
In the silent dimness of the pickup cab, he took her hand and laced it in his. Then his thumb began to move slowly over her palm.
That touch again, she thought. That tender touch.
After five minutes, they pulled onto a ledge above a canyon so dark it looked like a black river twisting through the land.
He cut the engine and climbed out, tugging her along with him.
“Watch your step,” he said as he pulled her closer to the edge.
“I can’t see anything.”
“Just hang on to me.” He stepped behind her and circled his arms around her, pulling her against his chest as he leaned his back on the front fender. “You’ll be safe right here, Parker. Don’t worry.”
She settled into his warmth and closed her eyes, listening to an owl calling from down into the canyon. His cry echoed off the walls in an eerie kind of sound.
“Do you see it?” His words brushed her ear.
Parker opened her eyes and saw a huge moon rising along the opposite side of the canyon. In the silence, she watched as it climbed, casting light down the canyon in shades of pale blue and black silver.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
As the moon rose, she couldn’t stop smiling. No artist could ever paint it so lovely.
When it hung above them, she turned in his arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
She closed the distance between them and kissed him.
For a moment, he didn’t seem to know what to do. He just let her kiss him. When she tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth, he woke up.
He kissed her back with a hunger that delighted her. She’d never felt like she was someone’s passion before, someone’s irresistible desire. There was something wild in the way he kissed her, like she was a need he had deep inside and not simply a want.
In one movement, he swung her around and propped her on the fender of his truck, resting his face on her chest. She could feel his breathing against her throat and she brushed her hands over his hair.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“I can hear your heart pounding,” he said as he tugged her collar open and kissed his way back to her mouth. “I’m having trouble believi
ng you’re real. If you’re not, don’t wake me.”
Parker had never wrapped both her arms and legs around a man, but she did it now. She wanted to hug him, to hold him close.
He ran his hands over her legs as he deepened the kiss to fire.
For a long while, they stood in the silent night and got to know one another without words. His touch had branded every part of her body, and she’d done the same to him. For a woman who never lost control, she was in deep water now and loving the way it felt to let go.
They were both still fully clothed yet she felt she knew his body better than she’d ever known any lover. He liked his kisses deep and tender. His hands were strong, almost rough, almost demanding one moment and hesitant the next. He let her settle against his chest and relax as he gently kissed his way across her face. Then his need began to build and his kiss turned hard and insistent as his hands molded over her.
She took it all. The tender and the passion. This quiet man did something no one had ever done. He made her feel totally alive.
Finally, when the wind kicked up, he lifted her into his pickup. Without a word, he drove her back to where her lane began.
When she would have asked why he stopped, he turned toward her and cupped her face. The quick kiss was hard. Laced with need. She had no doubt that he wanted her, but he’d stopped. He’d brought her back from passion’s edge.
“Why?” she finally whispered.
He pulled away and stared out into the night. “Because you’re not sure and if we went any further I’m not sure I could stop. When you come running to me, Parker. When I know for sure what you want, then there will be no stopping.”
She slid across to the passenger door and jumped out. She didn’t know whether to be angry, flattered or just plain confused. They weren’t kids. They weren’t even young.
Twenty feet down the path she heard him say, “I’ll pick you up same time tomorrow.”
“Don’t play games. Don’t lie. No promises. Remember? Don’t wait too long because I just might not be coming. I haven’t got much lifetime left to be hanging out with a cowboy who hesitates. I knew I should have been the one to set the rules. Not exactly what I thought would...”
His truck was already heading back up the road and she hadn’t finished her rant. He probably hadn’t stayed long enough to hear a word.
At least he’d followed one rule. No talking.
“I won’t be waiting!” she yelled.
The moon winked at her as it passed between branches of the old tree near the curve in the path.
“Oh, shut up!” She pointed at the man in the moon. “Why don’t you go over to the dark side?”
Then for no reason at all, she laughed aloud at her own joke.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GABE WALKED OVER to the gypsy house, moving silently in the shadows out of habit. Neither Yancy nor Tori were there. He knew it was early, but he was too restless to hang around the bed-and-breakfast and pretend to be studying. He’d played so many roles in his lifetime, pretending to fit in, that he’d become an expert in many areas.
Early on, when he’d been in the army, Gabe had studied the history of war. He’d even picked up a degree in history from a little college in South Carolina. Then, for a few years when he was wandering across the South, he’d studied the Civil War. In his thirties, he’d worked undercover for Homeland Security a few years in the arms trade and had learned all about weapons trading. He’d been paid well, but the government kept his work secret for his safety.
When he’d started working for the agency, he’d learned to fit in wherever he traveled. A Southern gentleman who raced horses, a stockbroker in LA, a landman in the Oklahoma oil fields. And each place he went, each person he tracked, he studied. Sometimes he knew the man he hunted well enough to have taken his place.
He was a wealth of useless information, but the constant learning kept his mind off living. Maybe that was why he liked disguising himself as a professor. People didn’t consider professors threatening, and he knew enough to hold his own in conversations.
Crossroads, his hometown, had been interesting to step into as an outsider. He’d learned things most of the locals probably didn’t know. Only he was careful not to ask about the gypsy house, or Yancy Grey, too often. He had to be prudent with his questions. Keep his glasses on. Play his part completely.
If anyone who knew Yancy looked straight into Gabe’s eyes, they might figure out his secret.
So tonight, after circling Yancy’s house, he turned toward town. He’d heard the Franklin sisters say there was a big meeting at the county offices on Main. Talk was, the ranches around here were selling small hunks of pastureland to allow for wind turbines. Most folks were for it, but a few thought it might cause problems. There were already turbines whirling like giant pinwheels, but soon there might be whole fields of them.
Gabe decided to walk over and listen to what was happening. He wasn’t really that interested in the meeting, but he wanted to check out the county offices. Weathers had said the sheriff’s office was in the building. It had been a long time ago, but Gabe had once broken into a sheriff’s precinct to remove evidence. He’d known it was a crime, but the evidence belonged to him.
As he stood in the back of the courtroom, surrounded by people, some he used to know when he was a kid, Gabe tried to imagine what it would have been like if he hadn’t left. Would he have really tried to go to college and make something of himself? Or would he have turned out to be just one of the part-time oil-field workers like his old man, who worked only when money was low?
He’d never know. Life didn’t offer reruns. Only even after all these years he could still remember Jewel Ann’s face. They’d grown up not speaking to each other since their families had bad blood between them.
He’d watched her at school, loved the way her black curly hair flowed around her shoulders. He’d even caught her watching him a few times. He’d been a junior and Jewel Ann a sophomore when he’d offered her a ride home one night.
They’d talked. He swore he loved her before they made it home. After that, falling in love was a game they played having no idea what the consequences might be.
Gabe pushed the past from his thoughts. He couldn’t bear to think of Jewel Ann the way he’d last seen her, knowing that what happened had all been his fault. The script of life couldn’t be rewritten, but maybe he could make sure their son had his chance.
Gabe watched as Rose Franklin presented the Main Street Business Association’s views on the new project. Before he’d checked in at their B and B, he hadn’t thought of the Franklins in years. When he’d been a kid he used to help out on their family’s dairy farm. Both girls had been a few years older than Gabe, but they’d been real nice to him.
He’d pushed every memory of this town so far back in his mind he’d forgotten that it all wasn’t bad. Riding along with the Franklin sisters delivering milk had been fun.
When the meeting was over, Gabe caught Daisy alone for a minute and apologized for the tenth time. “It was inexcusable,” he said. “A fine lady like you should have never been shocked like that.”
Daisy smiled. “Now, don’t you worry over it, Professor. The shock probably did my heart good, and to tell the truth, all I really saw clearly was your hair dripping the second you looked up and saw me. After that, you moved so fast it was simply a blur in the shadows of the room.”
“I’m sorry, just the same,” he whispered.
“You need not worry about it, Professor,” she said again. “And I should tell you that you do look younger without your glasses, but I know you must wear them.”
“I must. Any light bothers me. The only time I can go without them is when I’m walking in the dark.”
She seemed to have got over seeing him nude and was now enjoying the attention of his constant apolog
izing. “I won’t say more about what happened last night, dear lady, if you would allow me to buy you and your sister a slice of pie at Dorothy’s Café.”
Daisy shook her head, but Rose rushed over. “Of course, Professor. Only my sister hates the cold draft in the café these cool nights. Every time we go in to eat the door is constantly opening and closing.”
Gabe didn’t mention doors opening and closing were probably a problem at every café.
Rose was on a mission and didn’t have time for him to talk. “Would you mind if we bought the dessert and took it home? Dorothy does make a chess pie that we can’t match. Also, we both prefer our own brewed coffee to the café. Cleaner cups, you know. Dorothy says she washes every cup but I swear I can still see stains.”
After they’d picked up the pie and returned home, they sat at the little kitchen table and ate, the sisters doing most of the talking and Gabe thinking that they hadn’t changed a bit over the years. He gently guided the conversation around to the families he remembered. Daisy’s recollection was stronger and, he guessed, more accurate. Rose tended to fill in with creative license now and then when her memory failed her.
About ten o’clock the front door opened. All three sat silently as what sounded like two people tried to tiptoe up the front stairs. One laugh was definitely female.
“Who do you think that was?” Rose whispered.
Daisy lifted her nose. “Obviously Deputy Weathers. He’s the only one besides the professor who has a key to our front door.”
“But who was with him?”
“A very tall redhead,” Gabe volunteered. “I saw them in the café.”
“That’d be Madison O’Grady. I heard she was seeing our Fifth. They had kind of a date last week.”
“Oh, that will never work.” Rose shook her head. “She works for the government. I think she’s in the air force or maybe I heard someone mention that she was an independent contractor now for them. Whatever that is. She lives all the way over in Wichita Falls.”
A thud sounded from above and then another laugh.