Forgotten Memories

by Theresa Stillwagon

  Had she just imagined it all?

  “This could wait until tomorrow.” The cowboy pulled his hat from his head, exposing longish dark blond strands of hair curling around his neck. “I was up in the summer pasture for three days. It can wait another one.”

  “Are you sure?” Jen asked. “I won’t be back in Winter Creek until Saturday. I have a few classes I teach at the college.”

  “A couple of days won’t make that much of a difference.”

  Adam had changed, become less cocky, less sure, less interested in her. Her heart sank in her chest.

  “I’ll bring my brother by on Saturday with the exact count and possible moving dates.”

  “Don’t you need to have those animals moved by November?” Barb asked. “That’s only a month off.”

  “It doesn’t take long to actually move the cattle.”

  “I’ll change out of this dress,” Jen said suddenly, wanting to get away from the sexy cowboy. “Why don’t you show Adam around the town? He says he knows Mr. Thornton. Maybe he’d like to see the livery stable and corral. Or maybe even the stagecoach.”

  “You have a stagecoach here, in town?” Interest brightened his voice. “I would like to see that.”

  Barb winked at Jen before walking toward Adam. “Yes, and it’s an original. It was actually built in the 1800s. We also have a half built replica back at the stagecoach station about a mile from here.”

  “They’re not in town?”

  “Not now.” Barb glanced at Jen, waving her toward her private room. “Jen, don’t worry about Adam here. I’ll show him around the town while you change into your regular clothes.” Barb looked back to Adam. “You are interested in seeing the stagecoaches, aren’t you?”

  Jen grinned, expecting her friend to return with a possible sponsor for their last unfinished business in the town—the stagecoach and station.

  And that would be nice.

  Her grandfather would be glad when she told him.

  But why did it have to be that cowboy?

  * * * *

  Noise penetrated Adam’s exhausted senses, young and older voices, yelling, laughing. Joking voices fought through his exhaustion, pulling him down the dusty street toward Dark Day. That rickety old barn-like building had been standing on its last legs, ready to fall to the ground, yet it remained strong, tall and proud, with an ingenious set of bracing bars holding up all four corners and a large beam directly in the middle of it. Only a temporary fix, he thought, yet he knew Thornton wouldn’t be deterred by it.

  Thornton would have his hands filled with this endeavor.

  A loud, gruff voice yelled out a woman’s name, jerking him out of his stupor again. Now he stood on the wooden sidewalk with his hands on the rough wood of the swinging barroom door. He smiled before pushing at the creaking door and stepping inside the warm building,

  A gentle snort, a soft whinny brought his glance back to the post holding the reins of his horse secure. “Relax, big guy,” he said lightly. “We’ll be getting on home in a few minutes.”

  He should just get on him now and ride out of this town, away from the history professor. The feeling he’d experienced right before he’d allowed Barb to grab his arm and walk him out of the saloon still lingered in his system. That strange unearthly wintriness still froze in his mind.

  And the frightened look on the professor’s face when she’d turned and looked toward him.

  “Adam.”

  Pushing the door open, he looked around the dim room. “Jen, where are you?”

  “Come,” she whispered.

  He froze in the doorway of the bar, holding onto the edge of its curved side. Something wasn’t right here. That coldness was back, pressing into him as if trying to get inside his body.

  “Adam.”

  He shook the feeling away, forcing his feet to move through the barroom to the opened door of Jen’s private office. He stopped at the doorway.

  She stood in the middle of the room with her back to him, her right shoulder bare of the red gown, and the fasteners at her back opened to expose the richness of her creamy naked skin clear to her small waist.

  The history professor was naked under all that material.

  He raised his hand toward her, wanting to run his fingers down the expanse of her soft back.

  “Adam.”

  His hand dropped back to his side as the sinister atmosphere of the place once again pressed hard into him, freezing him to the ground. “No.”

  Jen moaned then, and as he glanced at her, the right sleeve of her dress slid slowly down her arm, showing the upper right section of her back and the gentle swell of one creamy breast.

  With his heart pounding rough in his tight chest, blood rushing hot into his penis, he stood frozen at the door and dragged in a harsh lungful of air. He needed to move, to leave this saloon, to get as far away from Winter Creek as Dark Day could take him, yet he couldn’t find the strength to do it.

  Damn, he’d never wanted anyone as fiercely as he ached for this woman now.

  Not even his sometimes sex partner Erin.

  Another soft moan whispered from Jen’s throat, sending his glance to her bare back. Thick brown hair fell over her shoulders, somehow escaping from the tight clip holding it high on the top of her head.

  “Oh, Adam.”

  Damn, what was going on here? “Are you okay?”

  She didn’t respond except to drop her head to her left shoulder and draw in a loud, rough breath. His heated gaze lingered on the soft swell of her breasts before he forced his stare back to the flowing strands of her slightly curly hair, caressing the top of her head, to the large clip hanging in mid-air.

  Hanging in mid-air?

  What the hell is going on? He closed his eyes and reopened them a second later. The damned thing was still dangling in the air.

  He couldn’t be seeing this. No way could that wooden hair clip be hanging in plain air.

  The clip moved on its own then, drifting in the air to stop only an inch from his astonished face. He must be more tired than he’d thought. He couldn’t be seeing an inanimate object flying toward him without help.

  “Adam?”

  The clip fell hard to the floor at the sound of the enraged voice.

  “What are you doing?” Anger, slight fear, and a hint of curiosity sounded in her tight voice, the warmth of unrequited desire. No whispery soft sexy tones now, the no-nonsense history professor was back. “How dare you sneak up behind me and…touch me like that? Why did you pull my clip from my hair?”

  “I…didn’t touch you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then how did my clip end up on the floor by your feet? Why do I feel as if…” She dragged in a long, cleansing breath. “I think you better leave now.”

  “Beautiful, I’m just as…confused as you are.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Her temper stiffened her still bare back rigid. “My mom and sister were the pretty ones in my family.”

  “Jen?”

  “I’ll talk to you about the cows on Saturday,” she said, reaching to the floor for the clip. “I need to talk to William and Jack before I make my final decision.”

  If she could forget about the strange goings on, so could he. “I’ll have Mark call you.”

  “Mark?”

  “My brother knows more about the herd than I do.” A lie, yes, but it was a necessary one. The further he got from her, the better. “He’ll call you on Saturday.”

  Her look seemed to penetrate deep in to him, stilling his movement at the door. Could she read his discomfort now? Could she truly see the reason why he felt it?

  She nodded. “Yes, that would be better. It’s what you need to do.”

  Chapter 3

  The image of that damn clip hanging in the air stayed with Adam as he raced his stallion full force toward his family’s ranch. They were a third of the way there before he realized he needed to stop and give the sturdy animal a breather. He stopped for a longer rest period a couple mo
re miles down the road when the horse started to show real discomfort.

  Why take it out on Dark Day, just because he was uncomfortable?

  Could Jen really see his discomfort?

  Pulling the horse to a slow walk when the barn came into view, he shook off his unease and stopped Dark Day a few minutes later at the large corral to the left of the sturdy structure. No one can read minds. Jen might be more intuitive than other women, but she didn’t have the ability to see into his brain.

  Or did she?

  “Hey, Adam,” yelled Wyatt, his foreman. The lean man whipped his cowboy hat from his head and wiped his forehead, staring with accusing eyes at the panting horse. “What did you do to him? It looks like you rode him hell-for-leather all the way from Winter Creek.”

  “He needed to run.”

  “He did?” Wyatt stood taller, replacing his Stetson back on his head before shoving his gloved hands into his back pockets. Not too tall, not too short, the blond-headed man looked rough and firm, a hard frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. “What in the hell were you thinking, Adam? That ghost town is a good ten miles away.”

  “He can handle the miles.” Adam rubbed the horse’s face, moving his hands over his sweaty neck. Guilt assaulted him at his foreman’s angry look. “Don’t worry I stopped a few times.”

  Wyatt scowled.

  Adam ignored him, brushing his hand lightly over both sides of his head. He needed to make it up to the horse someday, but not today. Right now he needed to go to sleep and not wake up until the sun rose tomorrow morning. “Could you get one of the hands to brush him down for me? I have some important calls to make.”

  “You don’t look too happy.” The foreman’s frown deepened. “The people at the town aren’t gonna let us drive the cattle through, are they?”

  An image of a sexy back and curvy shoulder filled his mind, along with the soft delicate flesh of the side of her full breasts. He leaped off the horse, handing Wyatt the reins.

  “Did you even get a chance to talk to anyone there?”

  “I talked to the Winter Creek Historical Area’s deciding members,” he admitted. “But nothing has been decided yet.”

  “And what about at that hotel?” Wyatt stared hard at him. “Did you talk to the manager?”

  Anger burned hot in his throat, rising up to choke him. “That…bitch!”

  Wyatt grinned. “I guess that didn’t go any better.”

  “I can’t believe that woman is dishonoring granddad’s contract with her company.” Adam moved the horse closer to the lanky man. “I would appreciate it if you’d do me this one favor and take care of Dark Day for me. I did run him hard back to the ranch.”

  Wyatt latched onto the reins with one hand, and with the other he slapped Adam’s back. “Go on, boss, get some sleep. I’ll take care of the stallion.”

  “Thanks,” he said gratefully. “Being out in the summer pasture for the last three days was tough. Hard to sleep in that rugged old cabin.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Squeezing the man’s shoulders in a friendly gesture, Adam dropped his hand and turned to the house. “Is Mark around?”

  “I think he’s checking out the calves in the upper pasture.”

  “If you see him before I do, tell him I need to talk to him.” Adam added, “I’ll be in the house.”

  “Sure thing,” his foreman replied.

  “Thanks.”

  Adam’s shoulders slouched downward as exhaustion settled into his bones, causing his legs to feel less than sturdy beneath his tired body. He stepped toward the house up a slight incline from the barn. Wandering slowly toward the large, old-fashioned family home, he envisioned his comfortable bed.

  He did need to make a couple of phone calls, but they could keep until he’d gotten some rest. Well, all of them expect for one, which was important to his mental state now. Calling the family’s lawyer could wait, but calling his special friend Erin was a necessary evil. He needed to set up a date with her, and soon. That history professor and her strange behavior set his blood boiling deep in his veins.

  Adam hadn’t been this frigging horny in a long time.

  Erin’s hard voice didn’t exactly sing in his ears, but it was beautiful to hear all the same. “Well, hello to you too, stranger.”

  “Tell me you’re not busy on Saturday,” he said.

  “I should be.” Abrupt and to the point. “You don’t call for three or four months and now you expect me to drop everything.”

  “I miss you.”

  “Yeah, right.” Sarcasm hardened the edge of her voice. “I just bet you do.”

  Guilt drove past his exhaustion. “I’m sorry about that, Erin. Things have been hectic around here the last few months.” He lowered his voice an octave. “I really need to see you.”

  “Another woman you don’t want to get involved with getting you all hot and bothered?”

  “What?” He jerked the phone from his ear. How did she know that? The history professor had gotten to him. His poor abused horse was proof of that. He sank deep into the plush chair and closed his eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right, Adam.” Her voice softened a bit. “But I can live with that. I’m not looking for love, you know.”

  That’s what he liked about this woman. He always knew where he stood with her. They’d met close to a year ago, just three days after his wife had walked out on him, and they’d used each other for release ever since.

  It had been enough for him.

  At least until a few months ago when he’d sensed sex wasn’t enough for him anymore.

  It used to be.

  He wanted it to be again.

  But it wasn’t.

  The image of the dark-haired woman in a flowing, old-fashioned red dress covering modern Reeboks moved through his brain.

  “I’ll see you on Saturday,” Erin said. “Meet me at the diner around five. I’m working the early shift for a change. And I’m off on Sunday. You can stay the whole weekend.”

  But sex had to be enough. He’d tried the marriage thing, and that hadn’t worked out. Debbie had wanted more than the small town life a cowboy like him could offer. He wanted the peacefulness of the country; she’d wanted the brilliant chaos of the city. She’d gotten her wish.

  “Sounds good.” Maybe when he woke up in the morning, Adam would actually believe it. “I can’t wait.”

  “Looking forward to it myself, sexy,” Erin whispered before hanging the phone up. Even her whisper sounded loud to him.

  Adam set the phone into its cradle and leaned back in the soft chair, drifting off into a trance-like state halfway between a dream and sleep. A hard slap against his shoulder jerked him up and out of his chair.

  “Damn it, Mark,” Adam yelled, re-adjusting his cock-eyed hat back on this head. “What are you trying to do, scare the hell out of me?”

  “Like I could ever do that,” his brother said, grinning.

  Adam glared at his smirking older brother. In Mark’s eyes, Adam saw his own reflection, but that was where the sameness ended. Mark was taller and broader around the shoulders and chest. He had dark, almost black, hair and bright green eyes, while Adam had soft brown hair and hazel eyes.

  “I thought you’d stopped seeing her,” Mark said.

  “I have,” Adam said, refusing to feel guilty for needing sex. “I just…need…”

  “Yeah, I know what you need.” Bright green eyes burned him, and Adam turned away from him. Instead of persisting in his lecture, Mark said, “Wyatt said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “It’s about the cattle drive.”

  “Did those people at that ghost town give you permission to drive them through or not?” He cocked his head at him, brushing his hat against his thigh.

  “Not yet.” Adam glanced up at his older brother. “That’s why I needed to talk to you. I think you should take care of it.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  Disbelief r
egistered in Mark’s pointed stare. “I don’t think so, little brother. You know I hate doing that kind of thing. You or Bruce always take care of that stuff. I just handle the physical operation of the ranch.”

  Adam sighed. He’d had a feeling Mark wouldn’t agree to help him.

  “Why do you want to change things now?” Mark stood up straighter, staring hard at Adam for so long he thought he could sense Mark reading his mind. Jen had made him feel like that earlier, her wide-opened beautiful eyes seeing way more than he wanted anyone to see.

  “I’ll be willing to go with you,” Mark conceded. “I’d like to see that old town again. People say it’s all fixed up now.”

  “It is.”

  “People also say it’s haunted.”

  The floating clip came to his mind, the way the woman had spoken out his name in a breathy, soft voice.

  He jerked upward. It wasn’t her voice, he suddenly knew that. Her voice was deep, throaty, sexy, and it didn’t get all soft and feminine.

  Damn, but he’d noticed a lot about that history professor.

  He didn’t remember much about Erin except how wild and loud she got at the end of really intense, fulfilling sex, her voice sounding sharp and piercing when she came. How would Jen sound as she experienced orgasm? Did her voice get even lower? Or did she just hold her breath?

  “Damn!”

  “If you’re not willing to compromise,” Mark said, misreading his swearing. “then I can’t help you. I could go see the town anytime. Maybe that’ll be better.”

  “I wasn’t swearing about that, Mark.” He stood and crossed the room, stopping at the narrow staircase at the other end of the hall. “I’m just tired. I think I’m going to crash for a few hours.”

  “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’ll wake you up when Mom has dinner ready. Things will be better after you get some sleep.”

  Adam nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”

  But he doubted sleep would help this new problem threatening to pull him into another joyful and sad time. Being with Erin was easier. She didn’t expect anything more than a few hours of good, healthy sex.