After the Midnight Hour

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  There was something in her expression that had him thinking of Rachel. Not that it took much for him to think about her.

  “What did you do to Caleb, Maya?” he asked softly. He knew Rachel could sense people around her, but he wasn’t sure how much she could hear, and this was one conversation he didn’t want her eavesdropping on.

  For a moment the woman’s eyes shone, hinting at the secrets within. For the first time, she unnerved him.

  “There can be punishment exacted against those who deserve it,” she said in just as soft a voice. “No one deserved it more than Señor Caleb. I asked my gods to avenge what he did to Señora Rachel. They did as I asked.”

  He could feel his stomach tightening. He was finally hearing more of the real story. “The article in the newspaper back then said he was literally torn apart.”

  She smiled. “He was not a good man. He was a demon who had to be destroyed. Someone like him could not have been allowed to live. Even before my Rachel came here, he took many young women to his bed and he enjoyed hurting them. He whipped anyone who talked bad about him. He liked to see people in pain, because he thought that made them fear him. And if they were afraid of him, they would work even harder, praying he wouldn’t hurt them anymore.” Her nostrils flared as she spoke. “He deserved what happened to him.” Every fiber of her being showed that she didn’t regret the score she’d settled in a horrific way so many years ago.

  Jared sensed the scars Maya carried were physical as well as emotional.

  “Maya, my love, I’m glad you’re on my side. I’m going up to take a shower.” He was halfway up the stairs when he paused and looked over his shoulder. “When you’re…wherever you go at night, do you…?” He feared he looked as uncomfortable as he felt voicing the questions in his head.

  Maya looked suspicious. “Do I what?”

  “I take a lot of showers at night and—”

  A corner of her mouth lifted. “I told you before. You are not my type.”

  “Right. Sure.” He pointed his finger at her. “Okay, I’m going to clean up.” He started back up the stairs.

  “That does not mean that Rachel might not look when you bathe in the daytime.”

  Jared promptly tripped over his feet. He swore loudly as he caught himself and ran up the stairs to the sound of Maya’s laughter.

  Since Jared moved into the house, Rachel had made sure to be in one of the upstairs bedrooms when sundown came, just as she now ensured she was alone at sunrise. The only time she’d erred was that one morning when she’d stayed up all night with Jared.

  She took care not to let it happen again.

  She wondered what he had been doing the past few days. He’d worked like a man demented as he destroyed almost half the wall. She’d hovered in the room those days, watching him work. She especially enjoyed watching him after he took his shirt off.

  Rachel thought that Jared had a body better than any picture of a Greek god she’d seen. The hard muscles in his arms and chest had her thinking of a man meant to protect a woman. Not hurt her.

  If I cannot find the key inside the house, he might be able to find it outside, niña. He could have been sent to us to help.

  Over the years Rachel had come to the conclusion that the key and the treasure were two more fabrications of Caleb’s. He’d enjoyed his cruel jokes, and the idea that she would spend eternity looking for a nonexistent key would have amused him to no end.

  She stopped in front of the mirror and took down her hair to brush it and put it back up in a loose knot. She’d been grateful when, one day, she’d found a brush and comb sitting on a small chest. The brush wasn’t silver with boar bristles like the one she’d had before, and the comb seemed smaller, but she discovered they did what she needed. She knew Jared had left them for her, and that made the gift all the more special.

  She studied her reflection in the mirror set up on the chest. She looked as she had more than a hundred twenty years ago.

  As a child she had wished for eyes like everyone else’s. The children she’d grown up with had all had blue or brown eyes. She remembered a few with green eyes, but she knew no one else who had eyes the color of dark violets. She’d once asked Pastor Davis and his wife the color of her mother’s and father’s eyes. The saintly couple had looked horrified at the question and urged her to never voice it again. They’d informed her in cold tones it was best she not even think of the people who had created her. It was best she think of making her life a righteous one. After that, she’d never asked again. What little she gleaned from unashamedly eavesdropping on conversations during the Ladies Missionary League meetings held in the church basement had her believing her parents had consorted with the devil. The few young men who showed interest in her never came courting after their fathers informed them they were better off not romancing a girl who had no proper family. When Pastor Davis told her her Christian duty was to do the right thing and become a teacher, she gladly took the position in hope of saving enough money to leave Atlanta and go to a place where no one knew her and she could have a fresh start.

  Rachel always thought it ironic that while the townspeople didn’t think she was good enough to marry their sons, she was good enough to teach their children.

  Perhaps that was why she’d jumped at the chance of marrying Caleb. For once a man wasn’t put off by her lack of family history. Instead, he’d woven tales of a land where an individual mattered more than family background. What she didn’t know was that the minister and his wife, people who supposedly deplored lies, stretched the truth more than a little by spinning a tale about a poor orphaned plantation owner’s daughter who’d lost everything during the War of Northern Aggression. They’d told him about a young woman of good breeding who taught because she wanted to work with children until she married and had a large family of her own. Rachel saw her marriage as her chance for a new beginning. She just didn’t expect a deadly ending to it.

  She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, ironing out nonexistent wrinkles. It had been a long time since she’d wished she had something else to wear. While she never suffered from feminine vanity, the idea of wearing a pretty dress appealed to her as it hadn’t in years. But she knew it wasn’t to be. While Maya’s gods granted her a bloodstain-free dress for eternity, they hadn’t thought to give her a change of wardrobe.

  She decided it was time to forget about herself, and picked up one of the three books lying on the chest.

  Property of Sierra Vista Public Library was stamped on the inside cover.

  Sierra Vista—Its Past and Present.

  Faded photographs from her time period stared back at her.

  A sense of loss washed over her as she looked at pictures of a town once familiar to her, until Caleb decided she wasn’t allowed to go visiting. She closed the book and put it back, noticing the other two books also dealt with local history.

  She knew Jared had left these for her, too.

  When she’d first sorted through his reading material, she’d found only magazines about guns or motorcycles. Lately, magazines meant for women, as well as history books, had shown up. She smiled at his thoughtfulness.

  Rachel felt an awareness of Jared that puzzled her. She had read enough magazines to understand that after the way Caleb treated her, it would be understandable for her to feel fear around men.

  She had been wary of Jared in the beginning because of the darkness she felt that surrounded him. That he had the ability to rein in his temper impressed her. She understood that while Jared had the look of a man who lived with violence, he didn’t embrace it as Caleb had.

  Over time she’d dropped the habit of thinking of Caleb Bingham as her husband. She knew a husband wouldn’t have treated his wife, the woman he had promised God he would love, honor and cherish, the way Caleb had. He wouldn’t have brutally murdered her because he felt she was inadequate. Rachel preferred to think of him as a frightening chapter in her life that was best kept closed.

  Especiall
y now, when she was experiencing feelings for Jared that left her…unsettled. Feelings that she knew could never be realized, since she had no future to give him.

  She didn’t think ghosts were supposed to have feelings or experience emotions—unless it was the need for revenge.

  It was a shame no one told her that because she had fallen in love with Jared Stryker—even though she knew it was a love already doomed.

  “What if there really is a key?” she murmured. “What if there is the slightest chance for me to have what I didn’t have before?”

  As always, there weren’t any answers to the question she had asked so many times.

  Jared knew the second when the sun dropped behind the horizon. He had become so attuned to the rhythms of the house that he felt a shift of energy within the building, as if the air itself changed as Maya disappeared and Rachel returned.

  He felt a stirring of anticipation at Rachel’s reaction when she viewed the French doors for the first time. He’d left them open to allow the cool evening air to flow inside the house, bringing with it the faintest hint of jasmine from the new shrubs. This time, he knew the scent wasn’t warning him of Rachel’s approach. He could hear her moving around upstairs. He stood at the open doors, looking out onto the drive that led to the road.

  A faint electric sensation skating across the surface of his skin warned him he was no longer alone.

  “Oh, Jared.” Her voice was breathless with wonder.

  He didn’t turn around, but felt her move to stand beside him. He’d made sure to stand far enough back from the threshold.

  He turned his head to look down at her. Tears glittered on her eyelashes. Even with no makeup on her face, she looked beautiful. Gazing at Rachel, he understood the term natural beauty.

  “They make the room look larger, don’t they?” he said, more pleased by her reaction than feeling pride in his handiwork. “You didn’t believe in big windows back then, did you?”

  “Glass was too expensive,” she murmured.

  She reached out as if to attempt to walk through the doors, but drew her hand back before it could be rejected. She suddenly laughed.

  “Jasmine! I smell jasmine!” She stood up on her tiptoes so she could look outside, and saw the tops of the bushes planted at the foot of the steps. “But my bushes died from lack of care years ago.” Her laughter was a mix between surprise and pleasure.

  “The nice thing about nurseries is that they carry all sorts of flowers and plants and bushes,” he said. “We have a nursery in town that’s owned by a cranky old woman and her son, but she carries a good assortment. She’s familiar with the property here. She suggested I might want to plant trees for a windbreak along the drive. Claimed she’d give me a good price.” He winced at the memory of Mrs. Crandall’s idea of a good price.

  Rachel nodded. She looked pensive. “There were trees lining the drive, but over the years they died from neglect, just as my flowers did.”

  Jared shifted uncomfortably at the idea of planting flowers. Lea’s teasing remarks about gardens and white picket fences were becoming all too real.

  “But these beautiful doors. This is what you have been doing. This is why you have practically gone without sleep.” Her eyes shone brightly. “Thank you.”

  “You have so little, yet you’ve never complained,” he said awkwardly. “I thought if you couldn’t go outside I’d try to bring some of it inside to you.”

  Rachel practically danced on her toes as she carefully inspected the white painted doors.

  Jared winced when she got a little too close to the threshold and suddenly appeared to be bumped backward, as if an unseen hand pushed her. He saw distress shadow her eyes momentarily, then she seemed to shake it off. She lifted her head, threw her shoulders back and pasted a smile on her lips.

  “Maya seems to think I’m not very good with plants,” he said in an attempt to divert her from realizing she’d never be able to move past the doorway. “She said she’ll take care of the jasmine bushes for you.”

  Rachel nodded. “She has a magic touch with flowers. I would think a plant was truly gone and she always found a way to bring it back and make it bloom.” Rachel spun around to face him, her hands clasped in front of her. “Saying thank you isn’t enough.”

  “You already thanked me,” he reminded her.

  Her smile didn’t leave her lips. Joy seemed to bubble up inside her and reach out to Jared. “I did, didn’t I?” She moved slowly toward him. “But I still feel that just saying the words doesn’t seem enough for a gift this glorious.”

  Hope rose up inside him. “It doesn’t, huh?”

  She nodded. She stopped in front of him, the hem of her dress swirling around his boots.

  “Maya had the television on this afternoon while she cleaned the room,” she told him.

  Jared had no idea why Rachel suddenly brought this up, but as he watched her sparkling eyes and smiling lips, he realized he didn’t care. All that mattered was that his efforts gave her this much happiness.

  “Yes, I see she’s discovered talk shows,” he said.

  “And something else.” Rachel fairly bubbled. “So I know exactly how to say thank you.”

  Jared wasn’t prepared for her to grab hold of the front of his shirt and pull him to her. But he wasn’t about to object when her lips fastened on his and heat immediately exploded inside him.

  What the hell kind of program had she watched that afternoon?

  Chapter 10

  Jared Stryker didn’t believe in not taking advantage of a good thing when it came his way. Especially when the best thing to ever come into his life was kissing him as if her life depended on it. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and pulling her hard against him. She was a perfect fit.

  He wasn’t sure if the jasmine scent was coming from Rachel or had drifted in from the bushes outside. Then he wondered why it even mattered—as long as Rachel was in his arms and she was kissing him like a dream come true.

  She was so slight of build that she felt like a feather resting against him. The heavy cotton fabric of her dress was slightly rough against his palms, but what mattered to him was the woman inside the dress. Out of habit he ran his hand down her back, searching for a zipper, but he only found fabric. That was when he realized he wouldn’t find one.

  Jared transferred his attention to her face. He cupped it with his hands, his fingers tangling in her hair as he studied her smiling features. He noted the contrast between his sun-bronzed skin and her own luminous pearl-like complexion.

  If the guys at the station knew I just compared a woman’s skin to a pearl they’d be laughing so hard they’d split themselves open, he thought.

  “What are you thinking about?” Rachel asked in a breathless voice.

  “You.” He liked how her face lit up when he told her she was on his mind.

  She rewarded him with another kiss.

  Jared smiled at the naive way she kissed, with her closed lips slightly pursed. Her hands rested lightly on his forearms.

  “Open your mouth a little,” he whispered.

  Confusion clouded her eyes. “Why?” she asked, at the same time Jared showed her. A soft “oh!” escaped her lips as his tongue slipped inside.

  Puzzling thoughts kept racing through his head.

  If Rachel was a ghost, why did she feel so real in his arms? How come she tasted like the best thing to come from heaven?

  But she couldn’t be a dream because there was no way he could ever conjure up a woman as perfect as her. Plus, if she was nothing more than a dream, would she have come to him like this? Could she have kissed him so sweetly?

  Jared didn’t think of himself as any prize, but that hadn’t stopped women from coming on to him in the past. He knew some chose him because they considered a man wearing a badge a turn-on. Others thought his bad-boy-on-the-road-to-hell image was a real turn-on. But none of those women had ever bothered to look at the man below the surface. None of them cared for more than
a night, sometimes two, of hot sex. And because he knew how they felt, he hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything more for them. It was easier to just walk away and not run the risk of being hurt.

  But this was different. He sensed that Rachel saw all of him. Into him. The idea that she had delved below the surface was frightening to him. With good reason, he’d kept a good part of himself hidden away, yet somehow she’d found her way in. As a result, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe. But for now, he wanted her to just plain feel.

  He heard the moan travel up her throat as his tongue stroked her lips. The soft sound seemed to vibrate across her lips. He tasted surprise and desire there. He felt that same surprise move through her body, and was glad to know he could affect her that way.

  She suddenly pulled away and took a step back. Her eyes were wide and a darker purple than usual.

  “Oh my,” she breathed, staring at him in surprise. She had no idea how desirable she looked with strands released from the neat coil of hair pinned to the top of her head, giving her a slightly disheveled look instead of her usual prim appearance. Her lips were moist from their kisses and her cheeks flushed a dark rose color, while her eyes were ablaze with sensual awareness.

  He’d say the lady was turned on and liking it. He’d also bet this was something very new to her, which amazed him because he could see that Rachel was one very sexy lady once she allowed herself to give in to it. He intended to see how far that would go.

  “Yeah,” he agreed with a broad grin as he reached for her again.

  Rachel didn’t hesitate in returning to the circle of his arms and lifting her face to his. Jared didn’t waste any time in taking up her unspoken invitation.

  “Please tell me that Maya can’t see anything we’re doing,” he murmured against her lips.

  “She once told me she feels as if she’s fallen into a deep sleep until morning arrives.” Rachel’s smile seemed to imprint itself on his skin.