I'll See You In My Dreams (Hell Yeah!)

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I'll See You In My Dreams (Hell Yeah!) Page 7

by Sable Hunter


  “Heel!” He demanded. Finally, he heard the breathing of the dog near the dancing hooves of the horse. Focusing with everything in him, he listened for any evidence of where the big predator was crouching. It seemed as if an eternity past – and then a sound – a snarl. He drew back his arm, flashed the whip in the air and let it go. “Raarrrr!” The sharp, slash of the leather had connected with cat hide. Immediately he repeated his motion, moving the black snake a few feet to the right and he heard the same zing and the same snarl, and then – silence.

  Climbing down from off the horse, he searched for his dog. After a few seconds, Zane found Rex laying a few feet away. “Oh God, Boy, are you hurt?” Feeling over the lab’s body, he felt the slick wetness of blood. There were deep scratches and several bite marks. “Damn” Picking the heavy dog up, he managed to get him across the saddle and climb up with him. “Let’s go, Cheyenne.”

  Cheyenne set off at a lope and Zane prayed that Rex would be all right. Every step of the way, he half expected shredding claws and piercing teeth to tear into his flesh. But it didn’t. In a few minutes, he was back at the gate. Cheyenne slowed to a walk and Zane reined him in. “Frank! Frank! Anybody! My dog is hurt!” Rex was more than his eyes, Rex was his friend.

  “Boss!” Running footsteps announced that several of his employees had heard him. “What happened?”

  “Cougar. Call the vet.”

  Zane sighed. He’d be going to the office without his companion today. He’d be lost.

  *****

  Presley dressed for Zane. She knew it didn’t make any sense, but she did. Today, she wore her version of a power suit she had purchased at a second-hand store. It was appropriate office attire, but she felt comfortable in it. The pants were linen and the top was silk. Presley preferred feminine clothes with soft lines and softer fabrics. With her coloring, she usually chose jewel tones. A short jacket completed her deep blue ensemble. As usual, she avoided looking in the mirror. Even when she put on make-up, she glanced up or concentrated on just one feature at a time. Pink lip gloss was her only choice of make-up for her mouth, anything that would draw attention to her problem was avoided – so no bright colors, just the barest hint of pink.

  What would today bring? She had spent a couple of hours the night before reading everything she could find about Zane online, about his family, about the firm and the cases they had handled. She had felt respect for the man, before – but now she felt awe. Time after time he had taken on people’s problems, represented the underdog, stood between hopeless situations and lost causes. She knew there were some people who practiced law to make money – and apparently he did, but he had high standards and a big heart and Presley wanted to be a part of his life so bad she could taste it.

  But she also saw photo after photo of him with beautiful women hanging on his arm. Just this past weekend he had been a part of the McCoy wedding held at Tebow Ranch. Everyone knew who the McCoys were – and everyone was beginning to know the Saucier brothers. Zane wasn’t married, but it was obvious he could have any woman he wanted. So what would he want with her?

  Zane would never want her for her looks or be attracted to her – but he could need her. So as Presley prepared for her second day of work at Saucier and Barclay, she prepared to make herself indispensable to one handsome lawyer with a heart of gold.

  When she arrived at the office, it was a little different than the day before. Presley didn’t wait to be shown in, nor did she linger at the front desk, rather she went right into the big boss’ inner sanctum – just like she belonged. Without hesitation, she threw herself into the task. Glancing through his calendar, she got everything ready.

  Looking around the office, she checked everything out. His computer was on. His water pitcher was full. The blinds were cracked at just the angle she had noticed they were at yesterday. What else? Presley’s eyes roved the room – ah, the ivy! Yesterday she had noticed it and wondered whose responsibility it was to keep it watered. As no one had – she supposed it might be hers. It was a beautiful display and very real as she could tell from the one or two partially yellowed leaves. Finding a watering can, she pulled a chair over near the window. A shelf over the top held the spreading green vine. But it was high – and she had on high heels. So she had to be careful.

  Stretching up, she almost had it. Dang! If she were only a little taller, biting her lip, Presley gave it everything she had – and slipped. “Ratz!” she squealed and tumbled backwards – right into Zane Saucier’s arms.

  “Gotcha!” He had walked in and after listening for a few seconds, he had known exactly what she was doing. But instead of scaring her, he had placed himself near in case she fell. Talk about something being in the right place at the right time! Now, he didn’t have to wonder what kind of body Miss Presley had, because he held it to his own – intimately. Not being able to see, he had grasped her wherever he could to ensure she hadn’t slipped to the hard floor. One hand splayed over her lower abdomen, her hips ground back into his groin. The other hand cupped one luscious breast like it was made for it – and perhaps it had been – because Zane had never known anything that had felt so right. She was soft, curvy, rounded in all the right places – Miss Presley Grace Love was the perfect armful. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” Presley managed to whisper. “I’m sorry, I landed on you.”

  “I’m not, I’m glad I was here to catch you.” And he wasn’t letting her go very fast. Her breathing was fast and shallow. Zane did move his hands to slightly less conspicuous spots; he had no intention of embarrassing her. But he did enjoy the feel of her in his arms. “You shouldn’t have climbed up there like that, it’s dangerous. We have people to water the plants with long wands and proper tools.”

  “Sorry,” she managed to apologize. “I thought I was helping.”

  “It’s okay, no harm done. I’m just glad I walked in at just the right moment.” He had to smile, she just made him happy. And he needed that. The last twenty-four hours had been full of nothing but worry. First the brucellosis scare had thrown him for a loop and then had come the run-in with the cougar. Rex was going to be okay, but the vet had insisted on keeping him for a day for stitches and antibiotics, and then he would probably need some recuperation time. There had been no life-threatening injuries, but the lab had come away with some deep scratches and a few bite marks. So for the first time in a long time, Zane was having to get around on his own with one of the despicable canes that Margaret had hated so.

  “Me, too,” she conceded. Letting out a deep breath, it occurred to her that she hadn’t moved. She was still lounging in his arms like she was at home. Good grief! What he must be thinking! “Sorry,” she managed to begin pulling her body away from his. It was hard. She felt entirely too comfortable there. “I need to move.”

  “Quit apologizing. Holding you wasn’t a hardship.”

  Presley blushed. Zane couldn’t see, thank goodness.

  Stepping back, she noticed Zane’s tie was crooked. “May I?” she touched his chest. “Your tie needs straightening.”

  “Okay,” he readily agreed. “I thought I was all spiffed up.”

  He held up his head and stood still while she rearranged and tightened it a bit. Being this close to him made her quiver. There was no doubt in her mind that her head would rest naturally against his chest. At this angle, Presley could gaze at his face – the strong jaw, the kissable cleft in his chin. “Smile for me,” she requested before thinking.

  “Why?” he asked but he smiled and she had to laugh a bit.

  “I knew it, you have dimples,” and she touched the one on the right side with her index finger.

  “Turn-about is fair play, let me touch your face so I can ‘see’ you.”

  He lifted his hands and Presley panicked. “No!” she almost shouted and backed up, catching her heel on the leg of a chair and sitting down hard.

  “Presley!” Zane bent over and held out his hand, feeling for her. “Are you alright?”

&nbs
p; “Yes,” she said with a resigned embarrassed tone. “I just landed hard on my bottom. I’m fine.”

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you; I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

  He sounded so contrite that Presley felt ashamed. “It wasn’t you, I’m . . .” The phone rang and she breathed a sigh of relief – saved by the bell. “Let me get that, excuse me.” She jumped up and went for the phone.

  “Hello?” she asked breathlessly.

  Zane was a bit confused. Her reaction to his request to touch her had been so unexpected.

  “That was a Mr. Jacob McCoy. He needs to see you about firming up some plans to adopt his wife’s baby.” Presley’s voice sounded a bit unsure, as if she was speaking of something that should be kept secret.

  “Did you tell him to come in?”

  “He asked for an appointment on Friday. I checked your calendar and made it for that day at two unless you have plans I don’t know about.”

  “No, that’s good. I spoke with him last night; he didn’t mention it – of course we were preoccupied with sick cattle at the time.”

  “I hope everything’s okay.” Zane could hear her get up. “Let me make your coffee today. Where’s Rex?”

  “Thanks,” he heard the coffee machine make its comforting brewing noise. “He’s at the vet’s. We went for a ride this morning and met up with a cougar.”

  Bang! “Dang! I spilled the coffee,” he heard her grumbling and shuffling around. “Did you say a cougar? My God, are you okay?”

  “Rex defended me; he got a little ripped up.”

  She brought a cup to him and sat it by his hand, touching it in the process so he’d know where she placed the warm mug. “You had an active evening, sick cattle and getting attacked.”

  “The cattle problem turned out to be bad feed, I was proud of that. At first they were showing symptoms of a disease that would have forced me to put them all down. And the cougar episode was a freak thing. I had my whip with me, and I got in a couple of licks before I was through.”

  Presley was impressed. “I’m not surprised, I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to. But I’m so glad you weren’t hurt. And I’m so sorry about your dog. He’s so sweet. Don’t you think you ought to have someone close by who cares about you when you ride? It worries me to think of you going about by yourself. I know Rex is trained well, but you need a companion.”

  For a moment, Zane thought she was about to volunteer and he found himself thinking how it would be to have her ‘close by’. But her next comment put that notion to rest. Presley pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.

  “I know I can’t help you at home, but is there anything I can do for you here? Help you in any way?” Presley wanted to do something for him to make up for acting like a fool when he wanted to touch her face. Many visually-impaired people used that technique so they could have a mental image of the person they were with.

  Zane sipped his coffee, trying to get his thoughts together. She meant she wanted to be with him and help him at work. Damn! He needed to get his out-of-control libido in check. “We’ll need to get forms listed in the Uniform Parentage Act and follow the Artificial Insemination Statues for Jacob’s request. His Jesse was a surrogate mother. It was her egg, but a sperm donor was used. Jesse is keeping the baby and Jacob wants to make sure he is listed as the father.”

  “I’ll pull a copy of the Domestic Relations law, just in case he has any questions.”

  Once again, her knowledge was above and beyond a legal secretary. He was about to ask her what law courses she’d taken when something else occurred to him. “Presley, I spoke with a woman yesterday, a Laura Bettes. Would you look up her address in Chloe’s rolodex and send her some flowers? I won’t be able to make the date she suggested.”

  “All right. Any particular message?” His question sorta took the wind out of Presley’s sails. Thinking of Zane with a woman wasn’t a thought she wanted to dwell on.

  “No, just tell her that I appreciate her thinking of me and we’ll get together another time.”

  “Very well,” Presley got up and made herself a note. “How about the Taylor case, is there anything I can help with there? I know you met with the PI yesterday.” She hadn’t been in the room when that happened, Building Security had required her to go and have a photo badge made. All in all, it had been an uncomfortable chore.

  “Adam is heading that one up, but I know we’d both appreciate it if you would just familiarize yourself with the whole thing. That way – if we need anything or if something comes up, you’ll be up to speed.”

  “Good, I will.” Presley went right to it, reading everything she could find. And what she discovered made her heart ache. Justice for Laney Taylor was something she would help win, any way she could. While she worked, she kept an eye out for Zane. It made her nervous that he didn’t have his dog with him.

  “I’m not dead. I’m not dead. I’m not dead.” Laney rocked herself as she sat in a small knot. She wasn’t dead yet, but she soon would be. Kendall fed her only sparingly now, he was gradually cutting her rations down, it was a form of torture, wondering if she had tasted her last bite of food or drank the last bit of water.

  How had her life come to this? Ray had seemed like such a nice guy. She had only gone out with him a couple of times before he had swept her off her feet, promising to build a life and a home with her. Laney had been studious, small and plain. Her experience level with men was negligible, and with her sister out of the country, she was lonely. From the moment he married her – that very night – he began to show himself. Soon she realized she had married a monster. He had not even pretended but told her what he needed from her and what he expected. Some people kept a pet, he kept a toy. He had begun by locking her in a room, but she’d find a way out. Kendall had told her he’d kill her, he confessed that he had killed before, even showing her pictures.

  People began to ask where she was – neighbors, the postman. Sometimes she could hear their conversations out in their front yard. But he told them all she was sick, not right – a paranoid schizophrenic. His games were varied and destructive. Laney was beaten, water-boarded, burned, tortured in unspeakable ways. Not long ago she had escaped and gone to the police, but he came after her. And when he got her back, he told her that was her fatal mistake. Laney had fallen into the hands of a serial killer and she knew survival was unlikely.

  Time ceased to have meaning; there was no difference in night or day. Laney didn’t know when hours or days passed. The only thing she could do try and keep her sanity was fantasize. Laney escaped her prison and dreamed of a hero who would rescue her from this nightmare. She saw him, she talked to him, she begged him to come and rescue her. And even though it seemed impossible, Laney had to believe that someone somewhere had heard her prayer.

  *****

  Adam tossed and turned in his bed. He couldn’t get Laney Taylor out of his mind. It was absurd. She was dead. But he dreamed about her. He dreamed she called out to him, he dreamed that she held her hands out and begged him to help her and the idea that he couldn’t do anything for her ate at his very soul.

  For the past several years, Adam had played the field. He had dated all kinds of women, but none of them had captured his interest or his heart – until he had opened a file and looked into sweetest face he had ever seen. His heart had thudded, hunting her name until he had read enough to realize it was too late. Adam had missed her. She was missing, presumed dead. But even the knowledge that he had no hope of ever holding her didn’t deter his heart. If he couldn’t speak to her or touch her, get to know her, he would give her the only gift he could. Adam would give her peace.

  *****

  Over the next few days, Presley began to feel at home with her duties and with Zane. Whatever she could do for him to make his day go smoother, she did. She tried to anticipate his needs and make sure everything he needed was in its proper place. If he had a meeting, she made sure he was prepared. Whatever case he was work
ing, she did her own research so she could save him time and trouble. Not surprisingly, she enjoyed it all and every word of praise he gave her was worth more than diamonds to her attention starved soul.

  None of this escaped Zane’s notice either. Very quickly Presley was making herself indispensable to him. She was also becoming important to him in other ways. He liked her. He was also attracted to her – big time. In all of his adult life and experience with women, he had never met someone so unselfish and giving. If she ever thought he wanted something, it wouldn’t be long before he had it. Every morning, she met him with coffee; several times he found delectable pastries on his desk that he finally got her to admit she made herself. One thing that amused him and touched him was her preoccupation with the window blinds. He knew she was concerned that the bright shafts of sunlight would bother him. He wished that were true. Oh, he felt the warmth of the rays of the sun, but he saw nothing. But it was the warmth of Presley’s spirit and her capacity for caring that touched Zane.

  Chloe, God forgive him, was a mediocre employee compared to Presley Love. She did all the leg work for him. When he introduced a new case or task, she went the extra mile to gather all the information he would need to make a decision or plan a strategy. No associate could have done a better job.

  All she did for him was only the beginning of what Presley managed to do around the firm. As she moved through the building taking care of her and Zane’s workload, if she saw someone needing a hand, Presley pitched in. At least a dozen times this week different employees had told him how considerate she was. Larry Gephardt had mentioned that she helped him at the copy machine, Felicia Richard called him and thanked him for allowing Presley to help her with the United Way drive, and even prissy Melody had commented that Miss Love had impressed her when she had helped a client who was in a wheelchair maneuver through the building. Presley never told him any of these things, nor did she let any work he gave her go undone. As far as he could tell, she asked for no special favors nor did she do anything to draw attention to herself at all. A very rare woman indeed; and what she did this morning – just capped it off for him. “Zane, if it would be okay with you, I’d like to take on some pro-bono work. I know I can only go so far with it, but I could do the prep work on wills, custody cases, divorces, adoptions – lots of things – and then it would take a quick review and some signatures for one of the partners for it to go forward. Would that be possible?”

 

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