Her carryall dangling in his hand, Colby rounded the front of the truck. “Come on.” He slammed the truck door for her. “You’re probably tired.”
She had been. Now, curious about this place he called home, she felt less weary. She brushed back hair that was tossed forward by the wind, then climbed the steps to a wide front porch. Before stepping inside, she noted the swing, made a mental plan to sit on it tomorrow.
The living room was masculine, rustic, leather and wood with Western art on the walls. And immaculate. She eyed the big-screen television, the speakers and audio system. He liked his toys.
He gave her a semblance of a grin. “Still skittish?”
“A little.” Though the flowers were scare tactics, Tessa sensed the sender’s anger when she touched the florist’s box. The person who sent them was feeling frustrated, desperate. “It’s amazing how a few dead flowers can be so unnerving,” she said, trying to make light of everything. But the idea that someone had walked into her home uninvited to leave the flowers churned up nerves.
“That’s the plan, probably.”
What she detested most of all was the fear, she decided while climbing the oak staircase with him. The person had made her afraid to stay in her own home. Somehow she had to get past that feeling. She’d never considered herself a coward, didn’t plan on starting to be one now.
“You need to rest.” He opened a door. “Here.”
The room was feminine. The wallpaper had tiny blue forget-me-not flowers on a white background. A patch work quilt mostly done in blues draped the bed with its brass headboard. Nearby on a mahogany dresser was an antique pitcher and bowl, and on an adjacent wall was a small mahogany desk with a brass lamp. “This is so nice. Do you take care of the house yourself?”
He gave her a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look before he angled away to set her carryall on an upholstered chair done in the same color blue as the quilt. “You mean do I dust?”
She laughed, because the idea did sound silly. “I guess not.”
“No, I guess not. I have a neighbor lady who likes to earn some extra money and comes in once a week to keep the place up. She dusts and vacuums.”
Tessa doubted the woman was overworked. The house was straight, incredibly neat. She realized she hadn’t expected him to be sloppy. A person with an organized mind didn’t usually live in chaos.
“I’m at the end of the hall if you need anything.”
She nearly smiled. He was everything she thought she’d never have and everything she’d always wanted.
His fingers skimmed her cheek. “You’ll be all right here,” he assured her.
Tessa watched the door close behind him. She had no doubt that she’d be safe, but she wasn’t sure she’d be all right. What about heartbreak? she wanted to ask him.
Facing the shower nozzle, Colby closed his eyes and let the spray rush over his head for a moment before reaching for a towel. Quickly he dried off, then wandered into the bedroom. Every time he looked at her, his gut tightened. Temptation swept through him to touch her—her hand, the slim curve of her neck, her cheek.
He liked the way her hair looked, tousled from the wind. He looked for ways to make her laugh, because her laugh had an infectious quality that roused a good feeling within him. He had it bad, he decided.
Go to bed. In the morning, rested, he’d be less—what? Smitten? Infatuated? Obsessed? He plopped on the bed. Enchanted.
Hazy sunlight streamed through lace curtains. In preparation for the heat, Tessa finished dressing in a lightweight sleeveless dress in pale green, then left the room and started down the stairs.
The rich aroma of coffee met her when her foot hit the last step. In the kitchen, he stood at the counter, pouring coffee from a black coffee brewer. He drew fantasies to a woman’s brain. She watched big hands, callused and strong, and thought about them on her. How would they feel? What would his caress be like? She’d felt the touch of Harriet’s lover. He’d been impatient, but gentle. Would Colby be tender or…
“Must be a doozy of a daydream.”
Tessa snapped her attention to him. She’d kill herself if she blushed. He can’t read minds, she reminded herself. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” His eyes stayed on her lips for a long moment, as if he planned another kiss. Or was she imagining the look? She needed to stop making so much of every glance her way.
“Do you want coffee?”
“Yes. Thank you.” The faint, spicy scents of oregano and garlic lingered in the air. A clue that he cooked.
She took a seat at the round oak table and fingered a piece of a jigsaw puzzle that was half-finished and strewn across the table. She studied one piece that was shaped like a Y, then stared hard at the partially completed picture. “This is such a great kitchen.” She meant that. It had a warm, homey feel. When she’d been a child, she used to imagine what the other kids’ homes looked like. She’d have ranked this in the category perfect. “What is this a puzzle of?”
“A sailboat on the ocean.”
She rolled her eyes. There was an abundance of tiny blue pieces. “Don’t pick anything easy.”
He gave her a wry grin. “I can scramble eggs, but if you want something else—”
She breathed deeply. “Coffee is enough.”
He scowled at her. “No, it isn’t. You can’t go until lunch on only coffee.”
“I’ll buy a candy bar somewhere.”
“Candy bars, lemon meringue pie. Junk food. You need to eat something that will get your feet moving.”
She laughed. “Me or you? Are you trying to persuade me to make breakfast for you?”
“Me?” asked Mr. Innocence.
Tessa smiled and moved to the counter. “What would you like?”
As his hands went to her shoulders, a faint shock wave shot down her spine. “Sit down.” He turned her around to head to the table. “I must have something that’ll tempt you.”
She searched for some simple way to tell him that she’d decided to go home. She needed to before she began to want too much. Her imagination could easily conjure up a more lasting visit. Perhaps that’s what had been happening. Perhaps she hadn’t felt anything really unusual at the first meeting. He was virile, sensual in a macho, tough way. Her imagination may have gone haywire over a really great-looking guy.
“No toast or cereal. Right?”
“Colby—”
He opened a cupboard door. “Aha.”
“Aha, what?”
Like a prize, he raised one arm and dangled a bag of chocolate-chip cookies. “I knew I had something you’d like.”
Tessa took his tease good-naturedly. The cookies were favorites of hers, the ones advertised as loaded with chocolate chips. “I’m really very easy to please—if you have leftover popcorn.”
He set the bag on the table before her. “For breakfast? You eat that?”
With the sound of a cupboard closing, she craned her neck to see what he planned to eat as he brought out a box of cereal from the cupboard. A laugh rippled out. “That’s a kid’s cereal, Colby. Cocoa Munch ’n’ Crunch.”
“Want some?”
“You phony.”
“You, too.” He held her with a look.
The seriousness came so quickly it threw her off balance. “What does that mean?”
“The store was always a cover-up, a way to get people to accept you.”
She released a short laugh. “Hardly. You know that there are some people, like Leone, who believe I’m too odd for this town, believe I’m wacky, a space cadet because of what I sell.”
“But that’s easier, isn’t it? The mumbo jumbo lets you hide.”
“I’m hiding nothing. People know I’m psychic.”
“They know now because of this investigation, but except for a handful, most people don’t believe it. And you want them to go on thinking that way. That’s why you have the store. They can excuse something as a lucky guess by the eccentric who owns that store with the crystal balls.”<
br />
Tessa held firm beneath his scrutinizing stare. “People accept eccentrics like fortune-tellers, but weird they have trouble with. I make a good living at fairs.”
“You said you don’t predict.”
What was he trying to prove? He wouldn’t understand. People never understood the foreboding that consumed her when she knew something wouldn’t go well or the gray fog that took shape before her reeled images at her. “I’ll tell what is true now, but I don’t predict anything that might alter the way a person lives.”
“Even if it’s to protect them?”
Tessa looked away. He understood her better than she expected.
“You’ll take risks to protect someone, won’t you?”
More than once, she’d exposed herself to do just that. She’d been ridiculed. Worse. She’d been arrested. “Yes, I will. How did you know?”
“My mother’s feelings, not me, are what swayed you to help.”
Despite everything he’d said, she believed he was a man who’d never believe in her without irrefutable proof. He might be accepting her claim that she could see, but that didn’t mean he believed.
“Who hurt you, Tessa?” he asked when she looked up.
He shouldn’t have possessed such sensitivity. Louise had raised him well. But then he understood heartache, had experienced it, lost a love. Tessa pulled back, not letting herself connect with the hurt that he harbored. “We’ve all been hurt or disappointed at some time. It’s part of living. Isn’t it?”
He shrugged instead of answering and turned away to begin breakfast. A trace of melancholy shadowed Tessa. She’d always wished for a confidant, someone close, a best friend. Will you be my best friend, Colby? What man would want to live every day with someone others viewed as a freak? She’d seen the derision her mother had endured. If Tessa had learned any lesson, it was not to let people see too much of the real Tessa Madison.
“Before I can leave, I need to do a few chores,” he said.
“I’ll finish getting ready.” She wasn’t surprised that he’d asked no more. She thought he was dodging the truth in her question. They’d both been hurt. As she wanted to avoid the memory of her heartache, he was dodging his own. It was best for them not to share. There was too much intimacy in such an act, too much chance that she’d begin to believe in them.
After breakfast, she hurried to pack her things and make the bed. Minutes later, she entered the kitchen and looked out a window to see Colby crossing from the corral to the stables. He whipped off his Stetson and rubbed a forearm across his brow. Sunlight gleamed on his hair, casting blond highlights through the brown strands.
She pushed open the screen door and stepped outside. Leaning against a porch upright, she watched his long, easy stride while he entered the stable.
Slowly she descended the stairs. This was his home, the land that he loved. She’d seen a few ranches outside Rumor with weathered-looking buildings. At the bottom step, she rocked back on her heels and stared at the house, a white, two-story farmhouse with Wedgwood blue shutters. All the buildings were crisp and newly painted, displayed pride of ownership.
Pivoting, she took in the huge trees bordering the driveway. Sounds surrounded her. A horse snorted. In nearby trees, birds chirped. Men perched on the rails of the corral and yelled encouraging words to a cowboy who danced around a spirited colt while he tried to slide a bridle and reins over its head.
Beneath a bright sun promising another sweltering hot day, Tessa walked past the corral and entered the stable. Morning light spilled across several stalls. Horses whinnied as if in duet with the whirl of the fans. In each stall, one was positioned toward the horse to cool it off. As she stepped in, hay moved beneath the soles of her shoes. She was midway when she spotted Colby standing in one of the horse stalls beside a tan horse with a gorgeous white mane and tail. The pregnant one, Tessa knew. “She’s beautiful.”
He swung around, smiling. “I thought so.”
“What’s her name?”
He grinned. “Do you know?”
“Beautiful.”
“That’s not it.
“You’re beautiful,” Tessa cooed to the horse, running fingertips down her nose.
“She’s the palomino that’s supposed to be pregnant,” he said as an introduction. “Ladyfair.”
Tessa ignored the trace of skepticism in his voice. Soon enough he’d learn that she was right about the horse. “I know.” She rested her face against the mare’s. “No wonder you care so much for her. Who’s her lover?” He chuckled, drawing her gaze to him. “That’s funny?”
“Different. I’ve never heard anyone say that before. You’re a romantic, aren’t you, Tessa Madison?”
She knew that was true. She wanted to believe in happily ever after. She’d always hoped that Mr. Right really existed for her but had begun to doubt the possibility. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“A neighbor has a fellow for her. They’ve been together twice now.” Though he shrugged as if not concerned, Tessa took a moment to concentrate and opened herself to his feelings, then knew differently. He loved this horse. He wanted her lineage to go on. Turning, she watched him move to a horse across the aisle. “You’re really busy. I can’t ask you to take time to help me.”
“I’m almost done,” he said, not looking back while he finished wiping down the horse to cool it. “You wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t gotten you involved.” She returned his smile as he turned and faced her while he wiped his hands on a towel. “We need to find out who’s so afraid of you. I doubt we’ll get any answers about who bought those flowers, but we might try florists in Billings.”
“I can’t this morning.” Tessa checked her wristwatch. “I have a shipment coming in. I can’t have Marla lifting anything. She’s pregnant.”
He pulled a face. “I didn’t know that.”
Tessa stroked the mare’s nose. “No one does.”
“Does she?”
Tessa swung around. He looked stunned by his own question. Before he saw her smile, she turned away. Perhaps in his own way, he was beginning to believe in her.
Colby left Tessa in front of her store. He’d had a lousy night. But he’d told her no strings when he’d asked her to come to the ranch, and he was an honorable man. He was also a stupid one, he decided. Only a stupid man would make such a noble gesture.
He drove in the direction of the Kincaid ranch for a meeting with a neighbor whose son had started rodeo a few months ago. Colby had the perfect quarter horse for him.
He spent more time than he expected with father and son, answering questions not only about the horse but also about life on the rodeo circuit. Colby hadn’t painted a pretty picture. Life was hard traveling from one rodeo to the next. Sometimes money was nonexistent. But he knew the boy already had rodeo fever and was deaf to Colby’s words about the rough times.
By midafternoon, he was parking in front of Tessa’s again. He couldn’t believe he’d bought in to the clairvoyance bit, that he’d credited her with knowing some woman was pregnant before the woman did. Dumb. That was impossible. Her assistant had thrown up. Or something. With a shake of his head, he climbed out of the truck.
Grinning, Rumor’s mayor stood on the sidewalk, waiting for him. Pierce Dalton’s disposition had definitely improved since Chelsea Kearns came into his life. “I’m glad I ran into you, Colby. A shipment of fans is coming in day after tomorrow—”
Pierce didn’t have to finish. “I’ll be around to help deliver them,” Colby cut in.
The mayor slapped his shoulder before turning away. “I wish everyone was so dependable.”
Colby didn’t envy him. He climbed the steps to the entrance door. The last thing he’d want to be was a politician, trying to appease everyone.
Smiling, Colby doffed his hat to two women coming out. As they passed, they whispered. He’d guess that rumors had begun to circulate about him and Tessa.
When he stepped in, Marla smiled so wide her face should have c
racked. “Hi, Colby.” Not for the first time, her voice sang when she talked to him. “If you’re looking for Tessa, she isn’t here now. She doesn’t work today.”
Why had she said she had to go to the store? “She said she was coming in.”
“She did. And then she left.”
Damn. So to be alone, she hadn’t told him that she wasn’t staying there. She could be in danger, didn’t she realize that? “Where is she? Do you know?”
Marla shook her head. “I don’t think she’s home,” she said, directing a look upward as if she could see through the ceiling into Tessa’s home.
So where the hell was she? He left, cussing, wishing he knew where to look. But she wasn’t easy to second-guess.
“Was that dang Pierce looking for me?” Henry called from a few feet away as Colby’s boot hit the last step. “From down the block, I saw you talking to him.”
Colby was in no mood for passing pleasantries with Henry. “I don’t know if he was.” He looked down the street. Where should he look for her?
Henry gestured with a thumb at Mystic Treasures. “You looking for her?”
He’d said the her with a disdain that made Colby narrow his eyes at him.
“She’s at Whitehorn Memorial.”
Colby swung around. “What?” Tension knotted his stomach. Had she been hurt? How badly? “What happened to her?”
“Oh, hell. There’s Dalton.” Henry started backing away.
“Dammit, Henry. What’s wrong with her?”
“You should know best of all,” he said with a snide-ness that Colby let pass because he was too worried to bother with him. “You spend more time with her than anyone else.”
“Is she hurt?”
“No, no.” He kept backing up. “I don’t have time to help Pierce. Tell him.”
“You tell him,” Colby yelled, hopping in his truck. He floored the pedal and hit the highway at a speed destined to get him a ticket. Henry said she wasn’t hurt. Whatever she was doing at the hospital had nothing to do with her needing medical assistance, he reminded himself.
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