by Linda Conrad
"What is going on in that pretty head of yours?" he tried again.
"We'll have lots of time to talk later," she glared at him. "Right now I want to get this gear stowed and then see about making a lean-to for the horses."
Ever practical, that was his Abby.
The minute he'd thought the words he tried to squelch them. But it was too late. He did think of her as his. At least, he wished for it to be so.
She was so beautiful, so full of life. The woman was the most earthy, erotic creature he'd ever beheld. And yet, she could dream, see visions, be a real treasure when need be. He wanted badly to touch her, to hold her in his arms once again.
The need rose up and choked him. It was so much more than want. He simply had to possess her, fill himself up on the essence of Abby.
"You going to stand around day-dreaming all day? Or do you want to show me all this grand handiwork you've been bragging about?" she urged dryly.
Right, he thought, swallowing hard. He had to get his head out of the clouds and back to reality. She was never going to be his. He couldn't even touch her again, that wouldn't be honorable.
It was a good thing the dusk came so late at this time of year. A long day was about to become even longer.
Gray finished hooking up the generator that Cinco and Jake set up. The cabin appeared to have been wired a generation or so ago, for what purpose Gray wasn't entirely sure because he didn't think the place had been inhabited for more than fifty years. But it did have lights and a couple of small appliances. A refrigerator and a water heater were the best of the bunch.
However, the plumbing was not in the best shape. A trickle of hot water to wash up with was better than none at all, he guessed. Gray could see he had his work cut out for him in trying to make this place more livable.
He stepped back outside and found that Abby had unsaddled her horse and unloaded the pack animals they'd trailed along. Gray was amazed to see her currying Thunder Cloud—and the mustang was standing still for her attentions, too.
Gray had to hold back a chuckle. Looked as if Abby had managed to charm more than just one lone Comanche.
"Come sit a minute and have something cool to drink," he urged.
She looked up at him, but her eyes were hidden by the shadow from the brim of her work hat. "We need to make a shelter for the horses, something to give them a little shade from the hot sun. We'll take a break when we're done."
"Abby, these horses will be fine for a night or two without a shelter. You know that as well as I do. It's spring … not the middle of a sweltering summer … nor the dead of winter. Thunder Cloud spends most of his time on the range, anyway. If you're so worried about shade, we can tether them down under the willows by the creek."
"But…" she fumed. "Oh, all right. If you'll bring out the food and drinks Lupe packed for us, I'll take a break. I just want to give the horses a little feed first."
"Abby. You'll spoil these animals. There's plenty of grass around here." He grinned. She was splendid, caring more for the horses than for herself. But he wasn't going to mention to her now how he felt. It was all he could do to keep his distance and talk in a coherent manner around her.
She ignored him and went to open the feed packs. Gray retrieved the cold fried chicken and the thermos filled with lemonade. If she didn't want to leave the horses, he'd set up a little picnic for the two of them outside.
He dragged the old, rough-sawn table out of the kitchen and set it up outside. Every time he moved to where he could catch a glimpse of her, he marveled at how Abby just seemed to fit here, taking care of the horses and using the muscles in her body the way the Great Spirit had intended.
When he was finally ready, he cajoled her into joining him for a break. Now that the two of them were seated on the benches, he hoped to find a way of getting her to talk more about what was going on inside her head.
Abby surprised him by asking a question first. "By any chance, are you related to Chief Quanah Parker?" she mumbled past her first bite of chicken.
"What a question." He smiled at her, though, thrilled that she might be interested in his background. "But yes, Quanah Parker, son of the chief of the Noconi, was one of my ancestors. As a boy, I remember my grandfather taking me to see his gravesite at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. The granite marker and his statue made quite an impression on me. I'll never forget the words chiseled on that monument."
Gray hesitated, but Abby seemed quite interested, so he quoted the first part for her. "'I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint in snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain.
"'When you wake in the morning hush, I am the swift uplifting rush … of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night.'"
"It's wonderful," Abby sighed. "I didn't know you had the soul of a poet … I mean … that you would care to remember words of such great beauty."
Gray grinned at her and swallowed a last bite of potato salad. "I'm quite a connoisseur of great beauty wherever I find it." He reached to wipe a stray crumb from her chin, leaving his fingers there to caress the soft skin around her mouth and over her lips. "I see great beauty in you, Abby."
Her eyes widened, but she pulled back away from his touch. "I'm not even pretty, let alone beautiful," she mumbled. "But I think you qualify as gorgeous … handsome."
"Ah. I see we have a mutual admiration for each other," Gray said. "That's good. At least, we won't have to look at ugliness while we spend the next few days together."
Abby squirmed in her seat and started to fiddle with the paper plates on the table. "We'd best clean up here, if you're done." Her expression seemed flustered and bothered. It was charming.
"Right," he chuckled. "The evening star is out and it will soon be too dark to work outside. It's time to find a spot inside where we can lay out the bedrolls for the night."
A flash of terror moved across her eyes before she stood and turned away from him. "I think I'd rather sleep outdoors. I'll set up a place down by the creek with the horses. You suit yourself."
He was up and had a hand on her shoulder before he could think it through. "Abby, wait a minute. You're not afraid of me, are you? You said you weren't before."
She shook her head, but he saw a sheen of tears appear in her eyes.
"Sit down and talk to me about this for a second."
She hesitated but reluctantly sat back down on the table's bench.
Gray sat beside her. "You remember I said that what happened between us must not happen again, don't you?" He didn't wait for her nod. "I meant every word of that, Abby. You have nothing to fear from me."
Her eyes grew wide then sad. "No, it isn't that," she said. "In fact, I'd really like to…"
She stopped, drawing in a cleansing breath. "It isn't you I'm afraid of, Gray. In fact, I would like it very much if you'd come lie beside me again."
"Then what are you afraid of?" he asked softly. Whatever it was, Gray wanted to fight it off for her. He wanted to take that look from her eyes.
She twisted and looked at the cabin. "Memories," she replied wistfully. "I just can't seem to make myself stay inside the cabin for very long. It hurts me … deep inside somewhere … it really hurts me."
"But I thought you loved this old place. Didn't you say that?"
"Yes, I did." She blinked her eyes as though in pain. "But that was before I stepped inside and looked around. I can't … I can't seem to make myself go back again."
"Tell me what you saw there that upset you so," he inquired warily. "Maybe I can change it for you … make it easier for you to take."
She shook her head, but gently smiled up at him. "There isn't anything you can do. It's just the ghosts that I see, and you can't make them go away."
Abby fought to put her feelings into words. Gray seemed so sincere in wanting to help. She knew he couldn't fix this problem for her, but he did deserve an explanation.
"I can hear my mother's voice in the cabin, telling me about her Texas
ancestors and how we were going to fix the place up … make it a real home for one of us kids," she began slowly. "Mom always loved this place, she'd played here as a little girl. And when she got married, Daddy fixed the cabin up enough so they could spend their honeymoon here."
Abby felt the burn of tears and scrunched up her eyes to hold them off. "My brother Cal and I spent hours playing in these old rooms. Cinco came along for a while, but he was older and soon found girls were a lot more fun than a younger brother and sister." She shrugged a shoulder. "Cal and I made up stories and acted them out. We became stars, cowboys and plains settlers like our ancestors."
Gray reached for her hands, obviously wanting to soothe by giving her the warmth of his touch.
She shook her head and quietly fisted her hands so she could continue without breaking down. "The last time I ever saw my mother she told me she was going to fix up this old place for me … 'like a little dollhouse' she said. Cal was about to follow Cinco off to college so I wanted a place to go off to, as well. Mom said as soon as she and Dad got back from this cruise they were going to take, that we'd get started here."
Abby bit down hard on her lip and fought the images. "She didn't keep that promise. She never came home. I … well, I decided I didn't need any old dollhouse. Just like I didn't want anybody's old promises, either. Anyway, I'm the kind of person who'd rather be outside with the horses and working on the ranch."
"Abby." Gray slid his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to him. "You don't have to face your ghosts if you don't want to. I'll set up camp outside with you. We'll work mostly on the plumbing, roofing and painting. If there's any work to do inside, I can do it alone."
"Really? You don't mind setting up camp outside?" She couldn't believe he was so tenderhearted and gentle.
His caring words almost caused the dam to break in her resolve not to cry.
"Now what kind of Comanche would I be if I had to spend all my time indoors?" he joked. "We'll just pretend like we're on an old trail ride. Only instead of herding cows, we'll be rounding up a remodeled cabin. Okay?"
Forty-eight hours later, Abby wiped the sweat from the back of her neck with a grimy bandanna and silently cursed the hot spring sun. There were a couple of things about constantly living and working out-of-doors that didn't seem so romantic when you were standing knee deep in them, she mused. Not having a hot shower or a washing machine were two things she missed most of all.
She straightened her back to loosen the kinks and looked around for Gray. He'd climbed down the ladder a few minutes ago, saying he needed a couple more handfuls of shingles.
Speaking of Gray, that was the other thing she would change if she could—having another chance with him. Sleeping in bedrolls by a campfire might be fine for a trail rider or a Girl Scout, but it was sure leaving her empty-handed in the man-teasing department.
She dreamed about sneaking into his bedroll in the middle of the night. Longed to have his hands touching her in all the sensitive places again. But Gray kept his distance, shook his head when she began to beg and told her he had not forgotten his promises. Meanwhile all that fancy underwear that Meredith had rushed her out to buy was still brand-spanking new … unused and waiting to be unpacked.
Gray's bodiless and tentative shout, coming from the ground, startled her, making her scan the horizon to see what might be wrong. "Abby, I think you'd better come down off the roof right away."
She saw it then, the cloud of dust, moving across the prairie and heading in their direction. Someone was on the dirt road, leading to the cabin.
Scrambling off the roof and down the ladder, Abby raced to her packs and pulled out her cell phone. She flipped it open, punching in Cinco's number code as she did.
Nothing happened. She pulled the phone from her ear and starred at a blank digital screen.
"The phone's dead," she told Gray.
"Not surprising. You have to plug them in to an electric current occasionally to charge them up, don't you?" he inquired dryly.
She shot him what she hoped was a "ha-ha, very funny" look. "We brought binoculars. Let's see if we can find them in the packs somewhere."
Gray found the binoculars and adjusted them for the distance to the oncoming cloud. "Looks like your brother's trucks."
Abby picked up her rifle and checked the load.
Ten minutes later Cinco stepped down from the cab of the first pickup. Meredith drove her pickup right in beside his and turned off the motor.
"I hope you don't mean to use that on us, baby sister," Cinco laughed and nodded toward the rifle still in her hand.
She put the gun down and shook her head at her ignorant but endearing brother. "You damn near got blown off the face of the earth, bubba. Why didn't you let us know you were coming out here?"
Meredith moved to grab Abby up in a giant hug. "We tried calling you, but we didn't get an answer. We have some good news to share."
Abby watched her suspicious brother take in the situation with one sweeping glance around the place. It was quite obvious that she and Gray had not moved inside the cabin. She wondered what Cinco would have to say about that.
Gray stepped to her side, as if he wanted to defend her somehow from any possible accusations Cinco might make. But her brother just grinned at him and reached to shake his hand and pat him on the back.
"How're things going?" Cinco smiled and waved an arm toward the trucks. "We've brought another load of supplies for you two … along with a couple of pieces of information."
"Let's sit down at the table," Meredith added. "I'll unload the ice and cold drinks we brought. I can't wait to tell you what's happened, Abby."
Within minutes the table had been swept clear of the tools and sawdust that had littered the top, and everyone was seated with a cold drink in their hands. Abby was a little nervous. She wasn't entirely sure about this turn of events.
"Abby," Cinco began. "Congratulations. You're an auntie."
The shock of his words left her mouth open. This was not what she thought she would hear. In fact, she'd totally forgotten that her brother Cal had been expecting a child.
"A baby girl," Meredith chimed in. "She's a sweet little thing. We saw a digital picture from the hospital's computer-cam."
Cal had not been terribly thrilled about having this baby, Abby knew. In fact, he'd refused to allow any of the family to come to his and Jasmine's quickie wedding a few months ago. Thinking of the tiny brand-new Gentry, Abby hoped her brother's attitude would now soften.
"When can we see her?" she asked.
"Jasmine has asked us to wait until they bring her home from the hospital." Meredith fairly bubbled with excitement. "But that's tomorrow. The hospitals kick them out after a couple of days, I understand."
Abby smiled at her dear sister-in-law. She knew Meredith had never had any family and this new baby was going to go a long way toward making her feel like the Gentry family was becoming her own.
"Cal's named her Kaydie Elizabeth," Cinco said in a hushed tone.
Abby felt the cold fingers of grief reach inside her and clutch at her heart. "After Mom and Grandma?" she whispered.
Cinco nodded solemnly. "I'm hoping that's a sign that Cal is ready to begin accepting everything in his life and will start settling down."
Abby wanted to agree with her brother. Wanted to be able to talk about the family in an adult manner. But she couldn't just now. The sky had suddenly turned from bright cobalt blue to deepest charcoal, and the humidity was oppressive, closing in around her.
She felt something squeeze her hand—hard. Turning, she realized that Gray was by her side and she looked up into his face. He mouthed the word breathe at her. She finally gulped some air into her lungs and fought to steady herself.
Fortunately, her sister-in-law didn't sense the undercurrents, or if she did, she ignored them. "You do want to come with us to see her, don't you?" Meredith asked. "I can pick you up with the helicopter and then fly us to Ft. Worth on the ranch's jet. We'll onl
y be gone a couple of days at the most."
Abby's body was calmer, her breathing regulated. She wanted very much to see her new niece, but…
"Don't worry about Gray, if that's what's stopping you," Cinco cut in.
Gray wished that Cinco and Meredith would go away. He wanted to talk to Abby. Wanted to find out how she was doing and what she was feeling. He'd sensed her pain and needed to do something or say something to help. But Cinco had turned to address him, so he remained still.
"I have some news in that regard, too," Cinco said, smiling. "It looks like maybe we've come up with a good reason why someone would want to see you hurt, Parker. Actually, it seems incredible, but I guess since you didn't hire an attorney to protect your interests when your mother died, there would be no way for a nonlawyer like yourself to understand this."
"What?" Gray asked, with renewed interest.
"Your mother left you something besides the mustangs," Cinco told him. "As you might know, her will transferred everything she had kept separately from Joe Skaggs into an irrevocable trust for you … to be kept for your benefit until you turn thirty and can inherit it outright."
"Yes, I do know that. I won't be thirty for a couple of years yet, though," Gray replied. "What does that have to do with what my mother left me?"
Cinco's eyes became serious. His expression was sober and daunting. "Well, it seems that a few years ago, Joe Skaggs let himself get into big financial trouble. He owed everybody in the state and was on the verge of losing his ranch. Your mother agreed to bail him out of his trouble by using some of the proceeds of the mustang sales and stud fees to pay down his debt."
Gray's heart constricted. Why hadn't his mother ever called him and told him what was going on? He would've come home to help them out.
"But your mother was a real smart businesswoman, Gray," Cinco continued. "With every penny she paid against Joe's loans, she acquired a proportional ownership of Skaggs Ranch in her separate name. Right before she died the part she owned had grown past the fifty percent mark."