“Don’t even think about that now. You’ve got enough on your mind. Are you leaving right away? You can take one of the trucks. Take the small one. You can leave it somewhere for me to collect later. The tank’s full, and if I have to go into town, I can drive the duelly. Do you need to call someone first?”
“I had a cell phone with me when all hell broke loose.” He smiled, but it faded quickly. “I also had a brand-new car, the top half of a good suit, a tape recorder, a briefcase and a few other things I’ve probably forgotten about.” He would worry about the car later. With any luck it hadn’t fallen in the wrong hands. “Right now what I need is to figure out some way to get in touch with a couple of friends without broadcasting my present whereabouts.”
“A phone call?”
“Not from your number. I honestly don’t think anything would come of it, but those two guys who came around the night of the storm had to have had some reason to check this place out. I don’t know where my car was found, or if it ever was, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if they didn’t have a tail on me as soon as I left town that day. A few more miles out of town and I might have had a fatal accident. The weather just fouled up their plans.”
“Oh, God. If anyone had had to get caught in that twister, why couldn’t it have been those two creeps?”
“I’m not sure they’d have both fit into your wheelbarrow.”
She ignored his feeble attempt at a joke. “At least I didn’t tell them anything.”
“How about your friends, Booker and Clyde? They know exactly how long I’ve been here. For that matter, Pete might have mentioned something to his friend Joey. No reason why he wouldn’t…we didn’t ask him not to.”
She lowered her face to her hands. “Oh, Lord. It never even occurred to me.”
“Of course it didn’t. Look, this is probably just a mild case of paranoia on my part, but humor me, will you? Another couple of days won’t matter after this length of time. It’ll give me a chance to think of some way to make contact with certain people and to find out what’s going on behind the scenes before I make my grand comeback.” Meanwhile he could work out some way to protect her until he had things under control again.
“Then you’ll stay here?”
It was the hope he saw glowing in those clear green eyes that nearly broke him. “Another day or so, if that’s all right. By tomorrow or the next day I should have a pretty good idea of how things are shaping up in town. Once I do, I can figure out the best way to deal with it.”
Neither of them spoke for several moments. Spence wasn’t thinking about the situation in Mission Creek, he was thinking instead about what was going to happen in the downstairs bedroom once Pete had gone upstairs and they were sure he’d fallen asleep. God knows, he had no business involving her any more than she already was, but it was too late now. That particular genie was already out of the bottle.
“Ellen—”
They could hear Pete yelling all the way from the barn. “Mama, Mama, come quick!”
Ellen jumped up from the table. So did Spence. They raced out to the barn expecting the worst and found, instead, a wet, shaky foal, barely out of the sac.
Pete scampered back up the side of the stall, hanging over the slatted sides. “Look at it, Mom. See? Moxie did it all by herself! She didn’t cry or anything, either, and boy, I bet it hurt real bad!”
The rest of the day, naturally enough, was taken up with admiring the new foal and checking on Miss Sara, who seemed more irritable than usual. Pete said it was because she was jealous. Moxie had a baby and Miss Sara didn’t.
“I expect you’re right. We’ll keep a close watch on her,” Spence told him.
The vet showed up a few hours later and pronounced the new arrival sound. Pete said, “Can we call him Bowser?”
So much for adding to her breeding stock, Ellen thought ruefully. “Bowser’s a fine name, but wouldn’t you rather save it for when you get a new dog?”
Pete tilted his head thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t be right to have two dogs named Bowser, but this Bowser’s a horse, so that’s okay.”
While he was there Doc Leonard checked on Miss Sara and predicted that she’d drop her own foal within the next twenty-four hours. “Cross your fingers that this one’s a girl,” Ellen said, hiding her disappointment over the new male addition to her breeding herd. Maybe she’d have done better breeding rabbits, only there wasn’t much of a market for them.
Just before dark, claiming long-neglected bookkeeping, Ellen suggested Spence and Pete go exercise the geldings while she brought her records up to date. “If we’re going to establish a creditable breeding operation here, I’ve got to record every detail.”
“You mean like who the mama is and who the daddy is,” Pete said.
“Even the grandparents. I’ve got all the papers, I just haven’t looked at them in ages. You two run along, have a nice ride, and I’ll get caught up here before Miss Sara goes into action.”
They rode out to the work site. They’d made a good start on repairing the fence before dark last night, but there was still work to be done. Spence said, “What do you say we finish up today? One of us can wait here and the other one can go get the truck and bring the tools.”
“I’ll go get the truck,” Pete said, two big front teeth flashing in his thin, tanned face.
“Yeah, you do that. Your mama needs something else to worry about.”
“We could both go and I could steer while you did the other stuff. Mr. Caster let me steer the John Deere once, and he said I was a natural.”
“How about we get the fencing done and then worry about driving lessons?”
“Cool!”
Spence knew he’d spoken too hastily the minute the words left his mouth. A plan was beginning to come together in his mind as he stood, feet apart, hands on his hips, and looked down the row of wire fencing that had been erected back when the land had held cattle instead of grapefruit trees.
Pete, planting his small booted feet apart and his hands on his hips in an unconscious imitation, nodded soberly. “Yeah, we’d better finish the fence first, then we can teach me to drive.”
The work went better than expected. They finished up well before dark, and then Spence ran the bench seat back as far as it would go and let Pete sit on the edge in front of him and steer. The ruts mostly did the job for him, but by the time they pulled up beside the tractor shed, the kid was grinning from ear to ear. In hog heaven, as Ellen would have said.
“Can I practice shifting gears tomorrow?”
“Let’s not rush it. Give the first lesson time to sink in.”
“Yeah,” Pete said softly, his big dark eyes glowing in anticipation.
Spence could have kicked himself. Things were bad enough without setting up any false expectations.
Ellen protested that she really should set up a cot in the barn, but there was never any real question of who was going to sleep where. Or with whom. She said if he was still sore, a hot bath in the tub upstairs might help. There was only the small shower downstairs they’d had installed when the pantry and utility room had been combined to make another bedroom.
A cold shower might have made more sense under the circumstances, but they both knew what was going to happen. And wise or not, he wasn’t going to turn away. So while Spence soaked some of the soreness from muscles unaccustomed to such physical activity, Ellen made one last check on the mares. By the time he pulled the plug on what had to be the fastest tub bath in recorded history, he barely had the patience to dry off. While he was shaving off his late-day growth of beard—that much, at least, he could do for her—he heard the downstairs shower running.
Bath towel knotted around his hips, he hurried down the stairs. Ellen was already there, in his bed. The small bedside lamp shone warmly on her tangle of damp, dark hair and he remembered that her hair dryer, along with all her other gear, was still upstairs.
Not that it mattered. She was beautiful just as she was, lying in
his bed with the spread pulled up to her shoulders. No false modesty, no pretense that she didn’t know what was about to happen. That was one of the things he liked most about her—her honesty. In his line of work, all the players worked an angle.
Not Ellen. As some sage had once remarked, “What you see is what you get,” and God knew he wanted what he saw. Wanted it so much he was shivering.
“I found some, um— They’re in the drawer.”
It had been twenty-one years since Spence had had his first woman. She’d been nineteen, five years older than he was at the time. He hadn’t been nearly as nervous then as he was now.
“Yeah…that is, thanks. I mean—”
“Spence.”
“Huh?”
“Come to bed.”
Shaking his head, he had to grin. To think he’d once considered himself pretty sophisticated, a suave man-about-town.
After that there were few words. It was as if both of them knew that this might be the last time they would be together this way. He dropped his towel and she gazed openly at his naked body, as if to memorize it. Reaching up, she placed her hands on his sides and began to stroke, pulling him down beside her. “I love the way you look, all sleek and firm and muscular. The way you feel.”
The way he felt was explosive. Combustible. Spence stood it for as long as he could before he joined her on the bed. Leaning over, he braced his weight on his hands, determined to make it last as long as possible. Not until the instant before his lips touched hers did he close his eyes. Rocking his mouth against the moist softness of hers, he angled his face, tugging her lips apart.
Take it easy. Make it last. There might not be a second chance.
Taking it easy was never an option. Taking advantage of that one small opening, he deepened the kiss, abandoning any pretense of a more leisurely approach in the face of his increasingly desperate hunger. Her skin was warm and soft and smelled of soap, baby powder and essence of Ellen. If he lived to be a hundred years old, he would never forget it—never forget this sweet, independent, sexy, wonderful woman with the callused hands and the incendiary touch.
Conscious of the fleeting moments, he took the time to pay homage to each part of her body. Her breasts with the dark, rigid peaks and the shallow valley between them, her narrow waist, the gentle flare of her hips and the soft cradle of her belly.
When the dark thicket between her thighs drew his gaze, his touch, and eventually, his lips, she shuddered convulsively. He savored her there, then groaned and rose quickly above her. In the warm glow of lamplight, he found her ineffably beautiful and told her so, his voice gruff with emotion, and when she closed her eyes, her lashes were gleaming with moisture.
This won’t be the last time, he vowed silently. He had no right to make promises—had no way of knowing where he would be tomorrow or if he’d even be alive. If tonight was all they could share, he would do his best to make it a memorable one.
Turning aside, he opened the drawer in the bedside table with one hand. A moment later, when he moved over her, she was ready, lips parted, eyes glowing softly. He could see the faint flutter of her heart echoed in the shadows of her breasts.
Carefully, he positioned himself and slowly entered her. This time there was a sense of inevitability in the act, almost a sense of sadness.
One thrust, and then like spark to tinder, they burst into flames. She wrapped her long, cool legs around his waist and whimpered, her fingers clutching his sweat-damp sides as together they raced toward the explosion of sheer, unimaginable pleasure.
Long after the race ended, she lay in his arms, breathing softly through parted lips. “I need to…” she began drowsily, and he laid a finger over her mouth, still swollen from his kisses.
“Shh, you need to stay here until I decide whether or not I’ll need that crutch again to get out of bed.”
She smiled. At least he thought she did. Moving his head to look was too great an effort at the moment.
“Stay here. There’s no need for you to get up, but I really should go out to check on things in the barn again.”
“You stay here. I’ll go check on the girls,” Spence said without opening his eyes.
Neither of them made a move to get up. Spence wasn’t at all sure he could walk. Aftershocks still reverberated through his body from what had to have been the most profound sexual experience of his entire life. He didn’t know if the aura of danger had added the extra element, or if it was sensing that this might be the last time.
“Knowing Pete,” Ellen said, “he’s probably sneaked downstairs and is camping out in the barn.”
“Let’s hope Miss Sara waits awhile before going into her act. I don’t think I want him bursting in here right now with a progress report.”
“I’d better get up,” Ellen said sleepily.
“I’ll go. If Pete’s in the barn, do you want him to come inside?”
“Wouldn’t do any good. He’d just hang out his bedroom window trying to see what was going on.”
“Mmm…” He nuzzled the place behind her ear where she was incredibly sensitive. He had discovered more than one place on her body where a single kiss could have her gasping for breath.
But as it turned out, they both got up. Just as Spence was reaching for the bedside table drawer again, the phone rang in the kitchen. He froze. Ellen sat up, grabbed her bathrobe and went to answer it. Who the devil would be calling at this time of night? Spence wondered as he pulled on a pair of jeans. The vet? Hardly. The old guy had struck him as adequate, but about ten years past retirement age. Besides, why would old Doc Leonard be calling at this hour?
“Hello?” Ellen said hesitantly. He could hear her clearly through the door she’d left open. After a brief pause she said, “Who’s calling? Who is this?”
Zipping his fly, Spence hurried into the kitchen to see her standing there, the phone dangling from its cord. The look on her face was more puzzled than frightened.
Catching sight of him, she said, “That was odd. It was for you…I think.” From the other side of the room, Spence could hear the dial tone. She made no move to hang up the receiver.
“Ellen?”
“He said— It was this man. When I said ‘Hello?’ he said, ‘Tell your sweetheart we’ll be paying him a visit.”’
The room was not particularly cold, but Spence felt as if he’d just been doused with a bucket of ice water. “And when you asked who was calling?”
“He just said, ‘You tell him that, you hear?”’
Twelve
Ellen finished putting on her bathrobe and made coffee, then raced upstairs to check on Pete, who was sound asleep in his own bed. Evidently the fencing plus the preliminary driving lesson had worn him out.
They agreed that the horses would have to wait. Whatever was going on was serious, possibly even dangerous. Even now Ellen shuddered, remembering the sound of that gravely voice on the phone.
Wordlessly, she placed a cup of black coffee on the table at Spence’s elbow. Funny, she thought, how quickly she’d gotten used to thinking of him as Spence and not Storm. Although he’d apparently been in the middle of a storm that had nothing to do with the weather when she’d found him.
Finders keepers. The childish phrase popped into her mind, and she shoved it away. She was just beginning to realize that no matter how intimately she knew this man, he wasn’t hers to keep. Up until two weeks ago he’d had a full life that hadn’t included her at all.
He was talking now to someone named Flynt. “I have a feeling time’s running out, so let’s make this fast and get off the line. Here’s what I need.” Speaking rapidly, he proceeded to read off the items he’d scribbled on the back of her grocery list.
The man sprawled out on one of her kitchen chairs, barefoot, bare-chested, the top of his jeans undone, was a stranger, Ellen told herself. A stranger who snapped out questions and demands as if he were used to being in command.
“Someplace that can’t be connected—something well off the beat
en track.”
Was he describing her farm? Connected to what? To whom? It was most definitely off the beaten track.
By the time he finished she was too furious to listen to the rest of the conversation, which was cryptic, at best. The moment he hung up, she nailed him to the wall with a furious glare. “What do you mean, you’re going to need a place to stash a woman and an eight-year old boy?” she snapped.
“Shhh, don’t wake Pete. Calm down and I’ll explain.”
“Nobody stashes me and my son anywhere. Besides, my horses are right in the middle of having their babies. I can’t walk out now.”
If his nerves weren’t on razor edge, Spence might have been amused by the small bundle of fury glaring at him as if he were a mouse she’d just discovered in her lingerie drawer. “Back off, Ellen. Things are coming together faster than I’d expected. Unfortunately, you and Pete are involved.” He broke off, paced a tight circle, massaging the back of his neck with one hand, his mind racing down half a dozen avenues at once. “All right, the first thing we have to do is get you and Pete somewhere where you’ll be out of the line of fire if worse comes to worst.”
“What do you mean, the line of fire? Shooting? You mean—”
“I’m trying to tell you what I mean,” he explained with patience dredged up from some deep reservoir. “The men who came looking for me were part of the mob. The Texas Mafia.” She gasped. He waited to let it sink in. “Honey, I told you they played hardball. The case I was working on when I got sidetracked involved the murder of a federal judge—a man who’s responsible for my being who I am and what I am today, instead of just one more bad apple. The guy who’s on trial for Judge Bridges’s murder is named Alex Black.”
“I remember reading something awhile back…”
Spence nodded. Quickly he outlined the case in which he hoped to discover who was pulling the defendant’s strings. Black might have done the hit, but professional hit men didn’t kill for the fun of it, they killed for the money. Spence needed to know who had paid him and why. And whether or not it had anything to do with the fact that it had been Carl Bridges who had cleared Spence and his two closest friends of any implication in the disappearance of Haley Mercado, a woman who had supposedly drowned.
The Quiet Seduction Page 15