Head bent, she made much of wiping a napkin across greasy fingers. “I don’t know. I should have tried to see who it was, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I wanted to be with other people. Being followed is always a worry for a woman driving alone at night.”
“This was more. You know that, and so do I. When we were at the antiques sale, people were assuming because you were with me that you were helping me. I never gave a thought to the idea that someone might feel threatened.” He paused, nodded a hello to two men passing by to the bar. “Do you want to back out?”
After trying to persuade her to work with him, just like that, he asked if she wanted to stop. He had a nice soft center. She’d never say that to him, though. “I don’t scare so easily.”
“Glad to hear that, but…”
His voice faded. Images came with no warning. Two men. Embracing? Wrestling? A Stetson sailed through the air. She heard a barking dog. A rottweiler. Here. The images were here. “We should leave,” Tessa urged.
Colby rounded a look over his shoulder and traced her stare to the bar. “Is one of the guys there the one who followed you?”
“No.” Tessa stood and reached for her umbrella.
“But one of them bothers you? Bad aura?”
She knew he thought she was out of sync with the rest of the world. “The guy in the Stetson is going to sit on your lap.”
He released a deep chuckle. “No way.”
Tessa didn’t bother to argue. Soon enough he’d learn she was right. “We’d better leave. Or…” She didn’t bother to say more. It was too late.
At the bar, the guy in the baseball cap swung his arm and smashed his fist into the cowboy’s chin. As the cowboy’s head jerked back, the Stetson flew off. He spun and sailed in Colby’s direction.
“Damn,” Colby muttered. His hands went up, blocked the cowboy from landing across his lap. With a hard push, he propelled the cowboy toward the guy in the baseball cap. “Let’s get out of here.” Rising, he snagged her hand and propelled her toward the exit, toward the rottweiler, barking.
She laughed as he led the way. “Told you.”
“How did you know they were going to fight? Lucky guess, right? Body language stuff,” he mumbled as if talking to himself. “You read something in the way those fools were standing, looking at each other.”
He was trying so hard to explain what happened. She realized then that nothing he was told would make him believe. He’d need irrefutable proof about her. “Could be.” She preceded him outside and raised her face to the rain, though she held her umbrella. The air felt cool but smelled musty. In the distance, fingers of lightning stabbed toward the ground. A fire alert was on. The woods were dry.
“Where are you parked?”
She pointed to her right. “Over there.” Before she could protest, he caught her hand in his. Tessa felt the strength, the calluses in the hand wrapped around hers.
“Why are you carrying the umbrella?”
“It’s only drizzling.”
He grinned in the manner of someone who didn’t understand but was amused by another person’s action. He probably thought she wasn’t very sensible. She could have told him she took a daily vitamin, always carried an umbrella on cloudy days, wrote on a calendar the due dates of bills so she wouldn’t forget to pay them in time. She was sensible, practical, normal—except she saw visions.
“I’ll follow.”
Tessa balked, stopping him. “Follow?”
“Don’t even think about arguing.”
“What would be the point?” Why would she argue when she was so grateful for the escort home?
He did more than follow her home.
“It’s nice of you to walk me to the door,” Tessa said when she paused with him on the short landing at the second floor.
Colby reached around her to open the door. “I’m coming in.”
The thank-you riding Tessa’s tongue remained unsaid. He stepped in ahead of her and began working his way through each room. “Find anyone?” she called.
Grinning, he entered the kitchen. “Not even a ghost. You need locks.” He sniffed the air. “What is that smell?”
“I make poultices and sell them in the store.” His look of disbelief didn’t go unnoticed. “There are a lot of healthy ways to cure things besides drugs,” Tessa added.
He said nothing, but she assumed that someone who followed traditional paths would have trouble with what she’d said. Her hair dripping, Tessa tugged at a wet strand and wandered into the bathroom for a towel. “Where was the Christmas photo taken?” she called.
“In Boston. Why?”
Briskly she rubbed the towel over her wet hair. “Harriet was in love then, wasn’t she?”
“I guess.”
Because his voice sounded near, she yanked the towel off her head. His hair glistening with dampness, he stood in the doorway, blocking it. “You’re all wet.” She tossed him the towel, and as he went to grab it, she stepped around him quickly to the kitchen. Pausing beside the table, she touched one of the photos, determined to keep a strictly business relationship between them. “These weren’t recent enough for me to learn anything.”
“But you saw something?”
“Images.” She took a quick breath at his nearness.
Standing beside her, he dragged the towel over his wet hair. “What images?”
“Sometimes smells come with them. Pine came through clearly when I touched the Christmas photo,” she said, looking at it. “I have precognition, knowing of something in advance, of its happening, is the way it’s scientifically explained, and—”
“You see something that’s going to happen. Are they foggy images?”
“Foggy images?” She met dark brown eyes. “Dreams, I thought, when younger. Actually they seemed like nightmares then, because I didn’t understand what was happening. And I can see by touching objects.”
“And people?”
“Yes.” Was she imagining how close his lips were to hers? So close. All she had to do was stretch, press her mouth to his. “Sometimes.” Too much about him made her want to relax, be herself. That wouldn’t be smart. She didn’t want more hurt. She really didn’t want this. She needed to keep her mind on her store. She wanted no emotional involvement with any man. “Colby, you should leave.”
With a featherlight touch, he brushed strands of hair from her cheek in the manner of someone needing to touch. “I’ll leave.” He leaned toward her. Before she realized what he planned to do, he lowered his head and kissed her. It was a quick kiss, a mere brush of his lips across hers, but Tessa felt heat radiate down to her toes, sensed the passion he effortlessly could raise within her.
“My leaving won’t end this. You know that.”
Colby braked on the gravel driveway outside his ranch house and climbed out of his truck. Something was happening he hadn’t expected and couldn’t explain. She wasn’t the scatterbrain he’d envisioned. And it didn’t matter that they probably had nothing in common. He wanted her. It had been a long time since he’d wanted a woman’s sweetness. There had been women to satisfy a physical need, but since he’d walked into her store, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Maybe she’d hexed him.
She claimed to be a psychic, not a witch, he reminded himself. But what was the difference? How did he know? Hadn’t one of her customers mentioned a ghost? What kind of world did she belong to? To him, ghosts belonged with goblins and other scary creatures on Halloween. Logical people didn’t talk about them on a hot summer day in July.
How much should he believe of what she’d said regarding her mother, the women in her family having psychic powers? She could be feeding him nonsense about a childhood filled with visions of things about to happen to make him believe in her.
No, he didn’t believe that. In all honesty, he thought she believed her claims about her special power. Some people were intuitively smart. She might be one of them. That made sense.
Slowly he wandered into his kitchen, aware o
f the ticking of the clock. He’d never minded being alone. He was comfortable with his own company. When traveling the rodeo circuit, he used to search for places to be alone.
With a beer in his hand, he ambled to the back porch. The silence bothered him tonight. He settled on the swing to concentrate on the plopping sound of the rain instead of his own thoughts. But his imagination played tricks on him. He heard a laugh, a soft, feminine laugh— Tessa’s laugh. It rippled on the night air as if taunting him.
Maybe she had cast a spell.
Chapter Four
Unable to sleep past dawn the next morning, Colby grabbed a cup of coffee, then spent the first few hours after sunrise cleaning out stalls. He worked up a sweat, thought about the cost of a new roof for the barn, considered a drive to Whitehorn to see a movie that evening, looked for anything to distract him. But when he finished his chores hours later, he was still thinking about Tessa, about a kiss that had only tempted and made him want more.
After a cold shower, he gave up and drove toward town. This was downright crazy. He didn’t believe in what she was, what she believed. He kept telling himself to go home, but then he was driving down Main Street and parking in front of Mystic Treasures. Muttering under his breath, he climbed out of his truck. Nothing made sense these days, including his actions.
He looked for an excuse for being there and crossed the street to the massive two-story brick building that housed Rumor’s police department. Holt Tanner, the deputy sheriff, sat behind one of the steel, beige-colored desks. Tall with black hair, he had a brooding quality that Colby guessed the ladies found exciting. An ex-city cop, Holt intimidated a few folks in town. Colby liked the man’s straightforward way. With a few short sentences, Holt filled Colby in on the latest news of his investigation into Harriet’s death. “Figured you’d want to know right away. I received verification of a marriage between your aunt and Warren Parrish.”
That wasn’t news he wanted to hear. “Harriet really was married to him?”
Holt gave a slow nod and stood to wander toward the exit with him. “When they were both living in Boston. I have the name of a neighbor,” he said as they stepped outside. “I might be able to learn more from her, but I haven’t had a chance to call her yet.”
“Let me,” Colby urged. He looked past Holt. Across the street, Tessa whisked out of the shoemaker’s. She had the best walk he’d ever seen. He gave his head a small shake. When had he ever been so enchanted with the way a woman looked when walking? He regarded her legs in the washed-out jeans, eyed the skimpy leather straps of her sandals. Several gold chains hung at the V of her black sleeveless top, and a bright purple sash draped her waist. “Give me the phone number. A neighbor might be willing to tell more to one of Harriet’s relatives than to a cop.”
“We’ll both give this a try.” Holt handed Colby a sheet of paper with the phone number. “Make sure you get back to me with whatever she says.”
Colby scowled at the number. How would he tell his mother that Harriet had actually married that slime? Damn, why had she? Was she that desperate for a man? At forty-three, Harriet had come across as strong, independent. Yet she’d chosen Parrish. But why was she in Rumor without him?
Colby had been raised by people who believed in their marriage vows. Thirty-six years after their wedding, his parents still acted in love. His father brought his mother flowers, grabbed her hand when crossing a street, snatched a kiss before he left the house. Never would they consider a long-distance relationship.
Steps from Mystic Treasures, Colby slowed his stride. Sunlight glaring in his eyes, he squinted at the long white box propped against the door. A florist’s box.
He climbed the stairs to the porch, then bent and reached for the box. The card was addressed to Tessa Madison. As he stared at the box, a tinge of something twisted his stomach. He had no problem naming the emotion. He was jealous, and that made no sense at all.
He’d never even dated her. They’d shared one kiss. Hell, it wasn’t even a kiss, not really. But he knew what he was feeling. He knew he wanted to crush the lid on the box and ram it in the closest garbage can.
Don’t drool, Tessa, she warned herself when she spotted Colby waiting on the porch for her. He looked luscious in snug-fitting jeans and a chambray shirt. With a slower stride, she climbed the stairs.
Perhaps this attraction for him was nothing more than a need for affection. She truly missed the physical contact with a man. Not sex, but touch—the warmth of his hand around hers, the heat of his palm against the small of her back, the caress of a kiss against her lips.
“Hi,” he said when she reached the top step.
She nodded but sensed something was wrong. He was upset. About what? While leaving the shoemaker’s shop, she’d seen him come out of the sheriff’s office with Holt. “Has the sheriff’s office learned more?”
“Guess these were just delivered,” he said, holding out the box and acting more interested in talking about the flowers.
“For me?” Frowning, Tessa accepted the box. Who would send her flowers? She squeezed around him to open the door. She hadn’t dated since returning to Rumor.
Stepping inside, she spotted the envelope tucked beneath a red ribbon on the box, but shook off a curious impatience to read the card. “What did Holt say that upset you?”
He stilled steps behind her. “How did you—you saw us talking, didn’t you?”
Always he looked for an explanation. “Yes, I did,” she called as she headed to the storeroom.
“And you assumed it wasn’t good news,” he said, trailing her.
Tessa merely smiled. He really resisted the concept of clairvoyance. “What did he tell you?”
“That Parrish was telling the truth. He and Harriet were married.”
Tessa set the box on what used to be the kitchen counter. “It seems strange that they weren’t living together.” Her head bent, she stood with her back to him and slid the card from its envelope.
“Not the actions of two people who can’t live without each other.”
Tessa knew he’d said something, but his words didn’t register. She couldn’t look away from the card in her hand.
“Secret admirer?”
With his gentle touch on her shoulder, she swung a look at him and held up the card. Beneath her fingers, she felt anger. Such anger from the sender. “It’s blank.” Danger for her was near, she knew. “What will you do now that you know they were married?” she asked to try to distract herself.
“There’s a neighbor in Boston. Maybe she’ll know more.”
Her heart went out to him. He hid his pain well, but his sorrow teetered close to the surface. “That would be good.” She had to stop being so receptive to him. Years ago she’d allowed her guard to drop with a man. She’d left herself vulnerable to hurt. Her ex-boyfriend, Seth, had taught her a lesson that she didn’t dare forget.
Giving in to curiosity, she lifted the lid on the box. Someone wanted to send a message. Brown, dried-out flowers were nestled in the green tissue.
Uneasy, she dropped the card on the counter. Was all this happening because she’d become involved in Harriet’s killing, or was someone trying to discourage her from staying in business?
“Someone’s idea of funny?” Colby said, peering over her shoulder.
“Not very.”
“No, not very.” Inclining his head, he forced her eyes to meet his. “Who told you that you always had to be brave?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“That’s what it looks like to me.”
“I’m all right,” she insisted, but she wasn’t. Someone was trying to frighten her, and was succeeding.
The heat of his breath flowed across her face. “If you need someone to lean on—” Lightly he pressed his hand against the small of her back. “I’m strong.” He smiled, a full one that bracketed the corners of his mouth with deep grooves. “Reliable.”
And too sexy, Tessa mused. She waited a
moment to make sure her voice was steady. “Colby, I’m not easy to be with.”
“High maintenance?”
When necessary, she chose the protectiveness of her crackpot image. “Our auras clash.”
“Do they?” A tease sprang into his eyes, warmed them.
“It’s a warning.” She thought he should wear a warning. Stay clear of this man. He breaks hearts.
“Fine.” His hand touched her arm, gently tugged it to bring her close. “I’ve been warned.”
Her heart beating harder, she placed a palm against his chest. She wanted to laugh, make light of the moment, but she couldn’t talk. Even as she took deep, calming breaths, she still wanted him to kiss her, really kiss her. “You’re much too sensible, and I’m much too—”
A fingertip pressed to her lips, silencing her. “Fascinating.”
Oh, don’t be too charming, she wanted to plead. She watched his eyes flick to her mouth. Was he going to kiss her? Would one kiss end her desire for it? Don’t want it, she railed at herself, but as he lowered his head and his mouth hovered near hers, she nearly moaned in anticipation.
Against her cheek, she felt his smile, then slowly his lips tasted one corner of hers. As he tangled his fingers in her hair, he nibbled at her bottom lip. She needed to think. This wouldn’t work. She struggled to remember that. It would only complicate everything. If she stopped now, there would be no chance for that. “Colby—”
A slow smile tugged up the edges of his lips. “Since I left, I’ve been thinking about kissing you.”
Tessa drew a deep breath. She didn’t want to think about the threats or Leone. She didn’t want to think about what Seth had done. Mostly she wanted to stop fantasizing about how great Colby’s kiss would be.
When his lips pressed down on hers, she coiled her arms around his neck. As long as she kept thinking about him doing this, she’d never be able to keep every thing only business between them. They’d kiss and feel nothing.
Big Sky Cowboy Page 5