Oh, yeah, Adam thought as he turned to walk up the stairs, sleeping would not help settle this ache.
Hopefully, with the help of Erin’s talented and wild touch, he’d be able to set things back to normal.
* * * *
“Are you sure about that, Jen?”
Jen glared at her friend across the small squared table. “How could I not be? He was standing in the doorway, with a stunned look on his face.”
Barb didn’t say anything.
“But why would he look stunned if he’d just unbuttoned the back of your dress and kissed your neck?” Rose, Jen’s second RV mate asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Stunned wouldn’t be the emotion I’d be feeling if a man was kissing my neck.” Barb leaned into the table. “I would love to tear the shirt off of a certain cowboy and ravish his sweet neck. Oh, no, not stunned. Hot and horny as hell but definitely not stunned.”
“Barb!” Rose pointed her finger at her. “I think you need to tone down your words. You’re sounding like a…whore.”
“Oh, give it a rest.” Barb glanced quickly at the younger woman sitting beside her in the booth-like seat. “You’re not really a virginal schoolteacher, you know?”
Rose grinned.
Jen laughed. “She gets you every time with that innocent schoolteacher act of hers.”
Rose merely continued to smile.
“It’s not funny.” Barb said. “And you can both just wipe those silly grins off your faces.”
Rose’s soft blonde curls fell almost to the seat, her sky blue eyes beaming a friendly stare at both of them, showing an emotion that didn’t quite reach her eyes. A quick flash of a dark-haired man blinked into Jen’s mind. Was the man she sensed the reason for Rose’s unhappiness?
“I thought you were my friend,” Barb said to Rose.
“I am,” Rose said lightly.
“Then why do you always have to…discipline me for how I talk?”
“You asked me to stop you from thinking about Wyatt.” Rose’s soft mouth widened into a sad smile. Jen had never seen her with a truly happy smile. “Well, that’s what I was doing.”
“I wasn’t thinking about that man.”
“Sure you weren’t,” Jen said. “You may not have used his name, but Rose and I both know he’s the cowboy you want…to ravish. You’ve been talking about him all day long.”
“Not anymore.”
“You shouldn’t listen to rumors, Barb. And why should Wyatt having a daughter bother you anyway?” Rose asked.
“Rose is right. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. You know how people like to talk.” Jen reached out and patted her older friend’s hand. “She’s probably a sweet little girl.”
“I hate kids.”
“No.” The schoolteacher in Rose spoke out. “How can you say that? Don’t you ever want to have children of your own?”
Sadness lingered in her words, and Jen wanted to ask Rose about it but she clamped her mouth shut on the question. Both of her friends seemed to be hiding something from her. She could sense it in their demeanor and expression, yet she couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
“And don’t tell me, Jennifer Ferguson,” Barb’s voice echoed in the small enclosed area, “that you didn’t like that man caressing your skin.”
Jen pushed her thoughts down and looked at Barb and Rose.
“Don’t try to deny it,” Barb said. “You liked it.”
She would’ve liked it, if she’d remembered him actually doing it. All she remembered was the other worldly chill before waking up aching with a fierce desire, her hair falling down her back, and a hot cowboy standing in the doorway looking stunned.
Stunned, she thought.
Thankfully, Rose changed the subject. “So, are you going to stay overnight or go back to Helena?”
“I think I’m going to stay.” Jen grabbed at the newer subject. “I don’t really feel like driving all the way back now. And I hate staying in that place all alone.”
“Isn’t your grandfather there?” Barb asked. “I thought he was staying with you until he finds an assisted living place.”
Jen didn’t want to talk about that either. “He’s visiting some friends this week.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Rose said. “It might not be wise to leave him alone in his condition.”
“He’s fine.” Anger sliced in Jen’s voice, replaced quickly by a hint of grief. He wasn’t even gone yet and she already grieved for him. “He’ll be all right. His doctor prescribed a new medication that supposed to slow the progression of the disease.”
“Alzheimer’s is horrible.” Rose laid gentle fingers against Jen’s chilled arm. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m all right.” She placed her hand over Rose’s, enjoying the feeling of warmth moving into her skin. “I wish my grandfather would stay with me longer, I don’t want him living in one of those assisted living places.”
“I think he should.” Barb leaned closer to her. “It might be better for both of you.”
“He’s doing fine now,” Jen said. “Why would he want to move into one of those places this soon?”
“He loves you,” Rose said. “My mother…did that for me.”
“Your mother is sick?” Barb asked. “Does she have Alzheimer’s too?”
The blonde’s hand dropped from Jen’s arm, but not before a frightening slice of fear rushed from Rose’s touch into Jen’s being, a hint of strong emotions. A freezing chill filled her heart as an image of a dark-haired man leaped into her mind, a disturbed man. What in the world was going on? Jen trembled at the barely heard words sounding in her ears, words spoken to Rose in a different time. As if living during that time, she sensed her friend’s past fear.
“So are you going to give us the details on your encounter with your passionate spirit?”
Barb brought Jen’s mind back to the RV. She glanced at Rose for a moment, nodding at her before glaring at Barb.
“Well, spill it,” Barb said. “You really didn’t think we would let you make a statement like that and not want to know more about what happened.”
“It was Adam.” Jen’s temper was getting the better of her now. “Not any damn spirit.”
“Adam,” Rose repeated.
“Yes.” Furious at the memory, Jen added, “It had to be him, because I can still feel his touch.”
“Are you sure of that?” This question came from Rose. “I swear the ghosts in this town are getting more active by the minute. My schoolmaster is always messing with my books and things.”
“And my seamstress,” Barb added. “But she’s never taken over my body.”
“It’s strange,” Jen said, remembering the feeling, the blankness.
Barb glanced at Rose for a brief second before looking back at Jen. “Maybe you have more than one ghost. Did you ever think of that?”
“Great!”
“Like Rose just mentioned, the spirits of Winter Creek are getting restless.” Barb grinned at her. “And you do own the saloon. It makes perfectly good sense to have a sex-starved ghost hanging around in there.”
“I wish he would leave.”
Barb only laughed.
“I don’t think this is so funny, Barb.” Rose’s stern look silenced the other woman’s laughter. “Sometimes I’m frightened to go into the schoolhouse after dark. I’m not sure what he—my resident ghost—will do next.”
“They’re harmless.”
“So far,” agreed Rose, glancing from Barb to Jen. “But what if something happens to Jen when she’s under the saloon girl’s spell? What if she makes Jen do something harmful?”
“I never thought of that,” Jen said.
“Nothing will happen to you,” Barb added with distain. “Has anything bad happened to you yet?”
“No, but still…” Jen sensed something was wrong. “I’ve noticed an unusual amount of ghostly activity lately too.”
“Yeah, so have I,” Barb said, glaring at Rose. “No
w you’ve gotten Jen all worried for nothing.”
Rose lowered her face to her clamped hands. “I just think it’s something to keep in mind, that’s all.”
“Well, I think—”
A knock sounded on the door at the same time as a familiar, young, female voice sang out. “Professor Ferguson? Can I come in for a minute?”
Barb slid out of the booth and unlocked the door, moving aside to allow the tall blonde girl to step into the RV
“Hey, Carrie,” Jen said. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve finished my report for my history class. I’d thought I’ll give it to you. Things are a mess at the campground right now.”
Jen took the paper. “What happened?”
“What hasn’t happened?” She smiled. “Only three of us students are here tonight, but you would think there were more.”
“You’re alone in the campground too,” Rose said. “Maybe one of us grown-ups should make a surprise visit.”
“Yeah, maybe your dad,” Barb added. “He’ll make sure things are on the up-and-up out there.”
“Please don’t tell my dad.” Eyes rolling, Carrie sighed loud in the closed air of the narrow vehicle. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Don’t let it bother you.” Jen waved the report at her. “He means well. You’re a good kid, and he’ll remember it if you give him a little more time.”
“No one has that much time.”
Jen smiled at her. “It’s only been a year since your mother left him.”
“She left me too,” the girl said quietly before turning to step out of the RV.
“Jack is too hard on Carrie.” Rose breathed hard. “He’s going to lose her if he doesn’t give her some freedom.”
As if she knew the feeling of lack of freedom, Jen thought. Intrigued by another glimpse of the quiet woman, Jen stored this bit of information in the back of her mind. Staring at the title page of the report—Female Soldiers in the Union Army—Jen stood from the booth, opened the cabinet directly above her, and placed the pages in a box marked Jen.
“Now that you’ve taken care of Carrie’s history report—” Barb grabbed Jen’s arm and sat her down hard in the booth. “I want to know want happened to make you so upset with Adam.”
She sighed. “I told you everything that happened.”
“You like this guy, don’t you?” she said, tightening her hand on her arm. “Do you need me to chaperone you?”
“Why would she want you to do that?” Rose asked. “She’s a grown woman.”
“She made a promise to her grandfather that she wouldn’t get involved with another man until after the semester is over.” Barb glanced at the calendar on the wall. “And she still has a good six weeks to go.”
“But why would your grandfather expect you to do something like that?”
“I made the promise to more people than my grandfather,” Jen said easily. “He’s just the most important person I promised. Maybe I’ll tell you about David sometime.”
“Who’s David?”
“He’s only the biggest jackass ever to hit the state of Montana,” Barb growled in a loud voice, “who just happens to be the most popular author ever to come out of the college where Jen teaches.”
“I promised never to go to a bar again.” Jen sank lower in the seat. “I shouldn’t have gone to the bar. I should have listened to my instincts and stayed away from David. I knew he’d be trouble for me, but I didn’t listen.”
“I wish I had psychic powers like you, Jen.” Sadness softened the teacher’s words. “All women should be given powers like yours.”
“Don’t be wishing for them, Rose.” Memories from long ago slid into her mind. “Sometimes knowing a thing you shouldn’t know causes you more problems than it solves.”
“But if it keeps you from dating the wrong man,” she said, sadness creeping into her voice. “It’d be worth it.”
* * * *
The dream woke Jen up early the following Wednesday morning, along with sounds of distant voices and slamming car doors. She sat up straight in her bed, remembering only a second before ramming her head on the bottom of the upper bunk that she was in the RV.
Footsteps walked slowly through the town, more than one man walked past the locked RV to disappear into the center of the street.
What was going on?
Slipping out of the bunk, Jen quickly dressed in a pair of old jeans and a green sweatshirt before leaving the small bedroom area. She stepped down to the doorway and stopped, quieting her breathing to listen for any strange sounds. None reached her ears. She reached out with her senses and felt no fear.
Whatever was in Winter Creek wasn’t harmful.
But who’d just walked into the town?
The clock hanging above the pillow-covered sofa read fifteen minutes after four, way too early for any of the kids to be up yet.
But maybe some of the older college kids had decided to get an early start painting the exterior walls of the town. Jack had told her a few days ago he was planning on getting the volunteer seniors to help get the last of the painting done this weekend.
Yeah, it was just Carrie and her friends.
Placing her hands up to her mouth to cover her yawn, Jen shook her head and stared into the dim bedroom. That uncomfortable dream filtered into her mind again, and she pushed it away. She had two classes today, one at ten and the second at four, and she hadn’t looked over her lecture notes.
“It’s as good a time as any,” she whispered in the quiet air.
Slipping into her tennis shoes, she grabbed her coat from the booth seat and slid out the door. Chilled air froze her skin briefly before she wrapped the heavy, warm material around her.
Male voices, deep growling and laughing voices, echoed in the town, getting louder as she walked toward the saloon. She glanced up at the livery stable and watched an elderly man appear in the glare of a huge lantern before he disappeared into the darkness of the old building. A moment later, a second man rose from his crouched position and followed the first man inside.
“Mr. Thornton,” she whispered. As she watched the building, the elderly man walked out and looked down the street at her, saluting her with a hand to his forehead and grin before he wandered to a third man standing at a pile of boards on the ground.
Oh, those two men must be Thornton’s crew.
She hoped they decided to stay with the project.
She waved back at them but they ignored her now. As another man joined them, she stepped up on the wooden sidewalk, swung open the batwing doors, and entered the saloon.
Looked like she was finally going to get some neighbors, along with smelly horses and noise.
“Oh, well,” she said out loud as she walked though the bar area into her private room. “The town needs a livery stable to be authentic.”
The voices and noise faded away as she pulled out her notebook computer from the bottom drawer of her old-fashioned desk and powered it up. A few seconds later her lecture notes appeared on the screen.
But she could barely read them as a chilling rush of cold air froze over her skin, sending her look upward to check out the room behind her.
“Help me,” a disembodied voice whispered.
The eeriness didn’t deepen around her, didn’t completely overtake her body this time. “Are you the same person from yesterday? I need to know who you are.” Feeling slightly ill at ease speaking to an empty room, she asked, “What is your name?”
In answer to her questions, her mind blanked out and she awakened later standing in front of the full-length mirror leaning against the wall near her bed. How did she get inside the sleeping area of her room?
Focusing her eyes on the mirror in front of her, she looked at it in disbelief. Familiar writing, in some red coloring, caught her eye and she placed the tip of her finger on it. Lifting her hand to her nose she scented a hint of lipstick. She glanced at her other hand and spied the circular tube. She’d written these words.
<
br /> She put her now warm finger back on the words and traced the curving lines of them as she read out loud, “Help me.”
And further down the mirror, about at the level of her shoulders, she read, “Danger.”
And still further down, Jen finally got an answer to one of her questions. “My name is Grace.”
“Grace?” She traced the graceful flow of the lettering with her index finger. “My grandmother’s name was Grace.”
Chapter 4
What the hell was she doing here? Jen told him yesterday she wouldn’t be in Winter Creek today. Adam froze at the side of his horse, bending down to look in his saddlebag.
“Man, will you look at her?” Mark whistled under his breath and slapped Adam’s back with a loud clap. “Look up and see what you’re missing, brother. She’s almost worth getting up so damn early in the morning.”
He didn’t want to look up. “What are you bitching about, Mark? You’re always up this early.”
Mark slapped Adam’s back again, ignoring his comment with another outrageous observation. “And look at that sweet looking thing coming up from the church.”
Adam did look up now, at the small blonde woman with flowing hair hanging clear to her waist. Looking around him he held in his breath before realizing Jen had gone back into the saloon on the opposite side of the street from the bank building. His gaze settled on the pretty woman who had drawn his brother’s undivided attention.
“I should have come to town before this.”
Adam grinned. “You can go and say hello after we settle our business with the WCHA members.” At least with two of them, he thought. No way was he going to get tangled up with the third one. “It doesn’t look like she’ll be going anywhere, anytime soon.”
“I hope not,” his brother said, tearing his gaze from her to face him. “Well, let’s get inside and change the committee’s mind.”
Twenty minutes later, Adam followed his brother out of the upper office. Their business of transferring the herd past town still wasn’t settled to either party’s satisfaction. He wanted nothing more than to leave for home, yet he knew he couldn’t. The two male members of the board didn’t think there was enough room between the back yards of the town and the parking lot to move the cows, and again they left the final decision with the lone female member.
Forgotten Memories Page 4