“We’re going to pay it.”
“How?”
He was already pushing the covers back. “Look, I’ve got to get moving. I’ll tell you everything. Later.”
“But what about the woman? What about Angela Sheppard?”
He swung his feet to the rug and then paused to look back at her. “She regained consciousness last night. Shane McBride interviewed her. He got nothing. Apparently the blow to her head has affected her short-term memory. She doesn’t seem to have a clue what’s going on—and I do have to get going.” He leaned back, canted toward her and pressed a quick, savage kiss on her mouth. “I need to get to my office, go over the Kincaid Trust documents. We’ve got a meeting about this in an hour and a half.” He slid away and stood.
Lynn leaned across the bed and grabbed his hand. “One more thing. Winona?”
He gave a single shake of his head. “Nothing. Sherrif Rawlings talked to her. She said she wasn’t ‘getting anything’ on the situation, but that she would contact him immediately if anything came to her.”
She released him with a sigh. “That’s…disappointing.”
He said nothing. He was already striding toward the bathroom, heading for a shower.
Lynn sat there in the tangled bed for a moment, her shoulders slumped, wondering what the world was coming to.
But then she ordered some starch into her sagging backbone and jumped from the bed. She gathered up her clothes and put them on, then ran downstairs to get the coffee going.
Ross kissed her goodbye at nine-forty.
She pressed herself against him and put her whole heart in that kiss.
“Call me,” she begged. “After the meeting…”
He said that he would. Then he got into his Mercedes and she climbed into her Blazer. She followed him down the long driveway.
He left her behind when they got to town. He turned for his office and she turned for her house.
At home she showered, then made some calls. To Trish and then to Mrs. Parchly, letting them know of the new developments, warning them not to tell other people that it was Sara and not Jenny the two thugs had kidnapped.
Then she waited. The minutes seemed like centuries.
Finally, at eleven-thirty, the phone rang.
It was Ross, calling as he’d promised he would to report on the meeting he’d just had with Sterling.
He said what she already knew. There was no way that Danielle could come up with a million dollars in the next day or two. So Sterling and Jessica had decided they wanted the Kincaid Trust to pay the ransom. Ross had studied the terms of the trust. It was stretching it a little, but he was making arrangements to free up the money.
He also said the McCallums were worried for Jenny, that she might still be in danger should the kidnappers learn they’d taken the wrong child. Arrangements had been made for Jenny to stay someplace safe for a while. Ross said he couldn’t tell her where. The fewer people who knew, the better for everyone.
Lynn had to agree. “Now what?” she asked.
“Now we wait,” he said. “The kidnappers said they’d call soon with further instructions.”
He said goodbye right after that. Lynn stood by the phone, feeling useless and frustrated.
There had to be something that she could do.
The idea came to her like the proverbial bolt out of the blue.
Was it crazy?
Maybe.
Silly?
Perhaps a little.
But, as Sterling McCallum had said last night, at this point, anything was worth a shot.
She looked up Winona’s number. The woman took six rings to answer the phone. Lynn chewed her lip and waited.
Finally she heard the psychic’s voice. “Winona’s Stop ’n Swap. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
Lynn said hello—and then made her request.
Winona hedged a little. “Child, the spirits are not a radio program. You can’t just…flip a dial and expect to tune in.”
“Please, Winona. Won’t you please try?”
Winona sighed and agreed that she would.
“Would you like me to come out there, to the Stop ’n Swap?”
“No, dear. I’ll come to you.”
“When?”
“An hour?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Exactly sixty minutes later, Lynn opened the door to admit the psychic—and Lily Mae Wheeler, as well.
“I hope you don’t mind, honey.” Bracelets ajingle, Lily Mae patted her hair, which was now blond. “I just happened to be out there at Winona’s when you called, looking over some earrings she found in a cigar box. I had to come along.”
They settled in the living room. Lynn had her red shoe ready. She handed it to Winona.
Winona went through the motions, holding the shoe to her breast, closing her eyes, rocking back and forth.
Lynn and Lily Mae waited, still as statues, afraid to move lest they disturb whatever currents of psychic energy Winona might be trying to receive.
Finally Winona’s eyes popped open. She let out a gusty breath. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing. Just nothing at all.” She looked down at the shoe. “It’s just a shoe to me now. And hugging it feels…pretty darn foolish, I must say.”
Lynn had that urge again: to scream. To tear her hair. She jumped to her feet. “Maybe some tea, do you think? I have Oolong, and herbal tea. We could…draw all the curtains. And…candles. Yes. I have candles, in the kitchen drawer, for when the power goes out. We could—”
“Honey.” Lily Mae was shaking her blond head. “You’ve got to settle down….”
“No. No, this will work. It has to work. Just…stay there. I think we can skip the tea. But the curtains. And the candles. I’m sure they will help.”
The two older women shook their heads. Lynn ignored them. She flew to the kitchen drawer, got the votive candles in their little jars, and the matches as well. When she returned to the living room, Lily Mae was already up, drawing the curtains.
Lynn lined up the candles on the coffee table. “There are six of them. Is six a good number?”
“Child…” Winona clucked her tongue sadly.
“Well, six is what I’ve got. It’s going to have to do.” Lynn lighted the candles. Then she and Lily Mae sat down again.
Winona hugged the red shoe some more.
But it was no good.
“I’m sorry,” the psychic said. “So sorry, about this—”
“Wait.” Lynn jumped up again. “Please. Stay right there. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I promise you.” She scooped her purse from an end table and raced for the door.
She drove straight to the school, left her Blazer running in the bus lane and dashed to her classroom.
The shopping bag was waiting, on her desk, where the janitor must have set it when he was cleaning the room. She grabbed it and ran out again.
“Oh, no,” she muttered to herself when she swung back into her driveway. “Ross.”
The black Mercedes SUV gleamed in the afternoon sun, right there at her curb.
She didn’t need his presence right now. She loved him with all that was in her to love, but, oh, not right now. Right now she simply couldn’t afford to see the skepticism in those beautiful dark eyes.
With a tiny, distressed moan, she scooped up the bag and leaned on her door handle.
They were all there, in the living room. Lily Mae and Winona. And Ross.
And they all shook their heads at her when she walked in.
She glared at Ross. “If you stay, you had better not say a word.”
Lily Mae actually chuckled. “I think she means it.”
He sucked in a breath, then nodded.
“Not a peep,” Lynn insisted.
He nodded again.
“Fine, then. Sit over there.”
He dropped to the free end of the sofa, down from Lily Mae.
Lynn took the second red shoe from the bag. “Winona, t
his is the shoe that was missing, that morning when you picked me up. I thought—”
“I understand, child. Sit down.” Lynn took the vacant chair. “Now.” Winona snapped her fingers. “The shoe.”
Her heart pounding triple time, Lynn handed it over.
Winona clutched the shoe close. “Hmm,” she said. “Hmmmmm…” The wrinkled eyelids drooped shut. She rocked back and forth.
On the table before them the candle flames rose up, shrank down, and then rose up again, higher than before.
Joy surged through Lynn, hot and bright, fierce and triumphant. It was happening. It was working….
That humming sound went on, seeming to come from Winona but not from Winona. Sounding like the pines in the wind, like a song remembered, but not quite known.
Lynn waited, perched there on the edge of her chair—she waited for the words. The words that would tell her, would tell all of them, where to find Sara.
Finally the words came.
“Babies. Two babies. A woman starting over and the little bird who sings. A man who seeks the lost one…a man of healing hands. A child returned. In silence, holly in her hair. And a father…a father returning, as well. A father seeking answers. Seeking truth. And finding…love. The love he thought lost to him. The love that still lives…in the heart of a woman, who waits now, but not for him…” Winona’s eyelids fluttered open. She turned her head, looked at Lynn, looked through Lynn. The candle flames gleamed in those fathomless eyes, pinpoints of golden light.
“Trust,” Winona chanted. “Believe. Wait. All will be answered. Take this love that is given you, diamond-bright. For it is magic. The only true magic we have in this world…”
Winona sighed. Her eyelids fluttered down again. The candle flames flickered. Then, as one, they went out.
Winona said in a clear, very alert-sounding voice, “Open the curtains, child. It’s too dark in here.”
“Stay put, honey,” said Lily Mae. She popped up in a jingling of jewelry and drew back the drapes.
Lynn leaned toward Winona. “But…what did it mean?”
Winona was smiling, a bright, wide-awake smile. “If I knew that, I’d know everything, wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, I should have taped it, shouldn’t I? How will we remember it all, to tell Sterling and Rafe?”
“Don’t worry,” said Winona. She tapped a finger to her temple. “I have it all. Right here. It’s still quite clear. Every word of it. It’s usually like that, for an hour or two after the event.”
“You have to talk to—”
“Yes. I know.” Winona stood. “Come along, Lily Mae. We must pay a visit to the sheriff’s office right away.”
Moments later, only Ross and Lynn remained in the living room, with the winter sun streaming in through the front windows and the faint smell of candle smoke hanging in the air. Lynn’s two red shoes stood near the candles, side by side. A matched pair again, at last.
Ross spoke softly. “Believe,” he said. “And trust.”
She nodded. “I heard her. I truly did. And she did say again that Sara would be returned, didn’t she? Oh, Ross. Tell me that was what she said.”
He stood. “Yes. She did say it.”
In her heart, Winona’s chant echoed. A child returned. In silence, holly in her hair…
Ross said, “I love you, Lynn.”
There it was. Joy. Moving through her once more, banishing all doubt. “I’m so glad.”
“I want it settled between us. I was sitting in my office, working over the Kincaid Trust, and it suddenly occurred to me that I had something to do that just couldn’t wait. I had to go back to my house. And get this.” He reached into the pocket of his beautiful brown cashmere jacket and pulled out the small black velvet case.
Lynn stared at it, cradled there in his tanned hand. A ring and a lie, she thought, A lie that brings truth…
“Give me your hand.”
She closed the distance between them. He opened the case, took out that big two-carat diamond he’d insisted they buy. He set the little box on the coffee table. Then he slid the diamond onto her hand.
“I said I didn’t know what love was.” His deep voice caught. He swallowed, then went on. “And I didn’t. Until you. Please. Wear this ring. Wear it for real. And forever…”
She touched his face.
He asked, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes, I will….”
He frowned. “There’s something else. Tell me.”
“I…want to wait, until Sara comes back to us. Is that all right? Will you do that for me?”
He reached for her. She went into his arms. “Yes,” he said in a husky whisper. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait, if you’ll make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“I want you to promise me that you won’t lose heart, about Sara. That you will trust and have faith that she’ll be all right. I want you to promise that you will—”
She knew his next word. They said it together. “Believe.”
She held him tighter. “I will. I will believe. Oh, Ross. I love you so.”
He tipped her chin up and kissed her, a long, tender kiss, a kiss that warmed her whole body and set her heart on fire.
Magic, thought Lynn. Oh, Winona. You were so right. Through it all, there really is only one magic.
And that is the magic of love.
Special thanks and acknowledgment to Christine Rimmer for her contribution to the Montana Mavericks series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6950-1
CINDERELLA’S BIG SKY GROOM
Copyright © 1999 by Harlequin Books S.A.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Visit Silhouette Books at www.eHarlequin.com
Cinderella's Big Sky Groom Page 19