A Haunted Twist of Fate

by Stacey Coverstone

  “Pleased to meet you, honey,” Hannah said, smashing Shay to her expansive bosom.

  “Your mother?” Shay’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish’s as Hannah set her back. Then she remembered the sign they’d driven under. “The Double M,” she mused, pointing an accusatory finger at Colt. “Would that happen to stand for Morgan and Morgan?”

  “It would,” Hannah said with pride. “I’m one Morgan and Colt’s daddy is the other. I’m the brains of the operation and Chet’s the brawn.”

  Shay rolled her eyes playfully at Colt. “You ambushed me. This is your family’s business you told me about.”

  He nodded and a pink blush crept into his cheeks, which she found appealing.

  “Aren’t you a pretty thing?” Hannah said, sliding her gaze up and down. “She sure is a pretty thing, Colt.”

  “Yes, Mama. I completely agree.”

  Feeling like a doll on display, Shay took some steadying breaths as Colt’s intense gaze held her in an iron grip.

  “Come this way,” Hannah said, grabbing Shay’s hand and leading them to one of the tables in front, closest to the stage. “I’m giving you two the best seats in the house. That’s one of the benefits of being related to the owners.” Her cheerful laughter rang out.

  Colt placed his fingers at the small of Shay’s back and whispered in her ear, “I bet you’ve never met a man’s folks on the first date before.”

  A tingle raced from the spot where he touched her out to every nerve ending in her body. “This is our second date,” she reminded him before thinking. “Breakfast was the first, you said.”

  “That’s right.” He grinned. “In that case, it was about time you met my mama.”

  Eight

  After supper, the Double M Cowboy Band took to the stage and performed a rousing hour of current country songs, authentic cowboy music, and comedy. Shay recognized a couple of the old-time tunes as ones made famous by Roy Rogers.

  One corner of the barn was designated as the dance floor. Many couples, as well as children, took to the floor as the band played both fast tunes and ballads.

  When one slow song started up, Hannah magically appeared and nudged Shay and Colt onto the dance floor and then stood by, watching them with a smile plastered on her face.

  “I think Mama likes you,” Colt said, squeezing Shay tight.

  “I like her, too.”

  Dancing in his arms sent a river of shivers cascading down her spine. He held her in the traditional way, with one hand at the small of her back and his other arm stretched out, clasping her hand in his. He was a good dancer. They didn’t speak anymore while the music played; just swayed in rhythm, bodies pressed together. She hadn’t expected to feel such a rush of emotion or any kind of sexual stirring when she agreed to come with him tonight, or when they took to the floor. However, as Colt squeezed her tighter, she became aware of what a powerful aphrodisiac music was. She hated for the song to end. When it did, he walked her back to their seats.

  “Thank you for the dance, ma’am. I enjoyed it very much.” Even the way he called her ‘ma’am’ in that smooth drawl involuntarily sent her senses reeling. Northern men had nothing over a western gentleman.

  As if the entire evening hadn’t already taken her by surprise, Shay received yet another shock when the M.C. of the show called Colt up to the stage minutes later. When she tossed him a questioning look, he simply grinned and strode up the steps onto the stage and picked up an acoustic guitar that was propped against a speaker. He straddled a wooden stool and adjusted a microphone stand.

  The M.C., a handsome man with silver hair looking to be in his sixties, clapped Colt on the back and spoke to the crowd. “Performing our finale tonight for you folks is my eldest son, Colt Morgan, singing that pretty little song by King George, ‘Blue Clear Sky,’ accompanied by the Cowboys. Come on now. Let’s hear it for Colt and the boys!”

  As applause thundered in her ears, Shay shook her head in amazement. Colt played guitar and was a singer? The evening couldn’t have gotten any more perfect. And he was singing a George Strait song? The coincidences were beginning to pile up like pancakes.

  The room hushed when the band began. Colt stared directly into her eyes, and her heart melted as the lyrics took on a beautiful meaning with him singing them to her. His voice was as smooth as silk, and his gaze was powerful and passionate. It seemed they were the only two people in the room. Not once did his eyes waver from hers during the entire song. Shay’s heart pounded so hard, she thought for sure he’d be able see it beating through her shirt, even from up on stage.

  When the performance ended, she joined the other guests in a standing ovation, and he took off his cowboy hat and waved it in the air as thanks.

  “Thank you for joining us tonight,” Colt’s father hollered into the mike, as the band played its swan song. “We sure enjoyed having you at the Double M Ranch. Come back and see us again real soon. Good night!”

  The crowd around her began to disperse, but Shay barely noticed. Her eyes were only for Colt, who shook hands with his dad and then strolled off the stage and sidled next to her. Flashing a boyishly shy smile, he waited for her to speak first.

  “That was a bombshell I didn’t expect,” she said, still fluttering with emotion. “That song was wonderful. Do you sing with the band often?”

  “Not as often as I used to. I felt inspired tonight.”

  His deep gaze was evidence that she’d been his inspiration. After only two short days, she knew it would be easy to fall for this man. But she wouldn’t let it happen. This had been a fun night, but that’s all it could be. She’d been burned twice before. There was no way she was going to touch a hot stove again.

  “Are you going to introduce us to your friend, Colt?” a man said, breaking in. He had the same build and sandy hair color as Colt. Shay recognized him as the band’s drummer. Colt’s father also sneaked up to appear at his side.

  “Shay, this is my kid brother, Brady, and”—he looked over his shoulder—“my dad, Chet. Dad. Brady. I’d like you to meet Shay Brennan.”

  Both men greeted her with grins as mischievous as Colt’s and pumped her hand with vigor, one after the other.

  “That was a terrific show,” she told them, “and the food was out of this world. I had no idea this was your family business when I accepted Colt’s invitation to dinner, or supper, as you call it out here.”

  Chet laughed. “He didn’t tell you this was our ranch?”

  “No.” She nudged Colt’s shoulder. “I didn’t know he could sing or play the guitar either.”

  “Colt’s one of those guys that don’t say much,” Brady offered, with a wink. “It takes him a while to warm up to people.”

  “Is that so?” She met Colt’s steady gaze. “He’s done a pretty good job getting to know me so far.”

  Brady’s eyebrow arched. “Then you must be easy to get along with. How long have you two known each other?”

  “Two days,” Shay answered.

  The expressions on both men’s faces showed their obvious astonishment. Brady elbowed Colt in the ribs. “Fast work, brother.”

  “What are we discussing over here?” Hannah swooped in to interrupt the joshing and gave Colt and Brady each a kiss on the cheek. “Nice singing, Colt. Good drumming, Brady.”

  “What about me, Hannah banana?” Chet gave her his whiskered cheek. She pecked it like a chicken pecked the ground.

  “Good show, sweetie, as usual. And please don’t call me Hannah banana in front of Colt’s friend.” She gave his arm a spirited smack. “She’ll think we’re hillbillies.”

  That was the last thing Shay thought. She was enamored by the genuine love and devotion that radiated between Colt and his family. It made her long for her own loving parents and the camaraderie of a family she no longer had.

  “I think it’s a sweet nickname,” she said.

  “See? She thinks it’s sweet,” Chet teased.

  They all laughed. “You two want to come ov
er to the house for some coffee?” Hannah asked.

  Colt answered without asking Shay, but she didn’t mind. As much as she would have enjoyed getting to know his family, there was no point in pretending this was something it wasn’t, or that it was bound for something more. Tonight had simply been a casual date.

  “Thanks for the invite, Mama,” Colt replied, placing his hand at Shay’s waist. “But I think we’ll pass this time.”

  Hannah gave him a knowing nod and a wink. Shay felt the urge to tell her not to get her hopes up, so she wouldn’t be let down when she discovered they weren’t dating. But that was up to Colt.

  “Okay, you kids run on then. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Shay. I hope to see you again soon.” She took her hands and squeezed them warmly.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Morgan. Mr. Morgan, Brady. I’ve enjoyed meeting all of you, and I had so much fun tonight. You have a great setup here.”

  She and Colt said their goodbyes and stepped outside. The temperature had dropped. “It’s cool,” she said, shivering.

  “Will this help?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they walked to his pickup that way.

  It had been a long time since she’d been touched by a man, or felt a strong arm around her. It felt good. She glanced at his profile. She’d have to stay firm in her convictions if she was to escape Colt’s charismatic ways.

  Once she was in the truck and he’d shut the door behind her, he slid onto the driver’s seat and stuck the key in the ignition. “Let me get this thing started up, and I’ll turn on the heat.”

  Shay smiled, despite herself. You already have.

  Nine

  The moon floated high in the sky when they returned to the Buckhorn. Colt held the passenger door open and offered Shay a hand. He couldn’t help but admire her shapely legs once more as she swung them out of the truck.

  It was hard to comprehend, and completely unexpected, but the woman had done something to him. There hadn’t been this spark with anyone, this tug on his heart—not since Denise. What was even funnier than feeling this way so fast was that he believed Denise would have liked Shay.

  In fact, he believed Denise had been telepathically communicating with him all day. He never would have admitted such a ridiculous thing to anyone, but he swore he’d heard her voice speaking to him clearly in his head. It had been as if she’d been sitting next to him, urging him to go for it, to pursue Shay. That kind of thing had never happened to him before. He’d tried to tell himself he was imagining it, but her words had echoed in his mind all day that she didn’t want him to grow old alone.

  If anyone had asked him, Colt would have said love didn’t happen so fast. Even with Denise, it had taken over a year for him to tell her he loved her. But from the first moment he touched Shay, he physically desired her. Did that make it love? More likely the churning he felt in his gut and the fire that burned in his loins was lust, or infatuation. When he touched her, electricity raced through his body, lighting up his insides like a Christmas tree. He wanted to kiss her and hold her, but that didn’t mean he was falling in love. Love was a tricky business. Business he didn’t need to get mixed up in. That fact aside, he was a man, with a man’s needs. Sex was a different animal from love.

  The two of them stood next to the truck with her back pressed against the passenger door. She fumbled with the latch on her purse and fished out her keys. “Found them,” she said, jingling them in the air.

  When her chin lifted and she peered up at him, the moonlight danced on her face. Her eyes sparkled and her skin shimmered, like an angel. He had the strongest yearning to cup her cheek in his palm and slide his fingers under her hair and over her slender neck. The craving for her was nearly uncontrollable.

  “What would you say to inviting me in for a nightcap?” he asked quietly.

  The question seemed to have taken her off guard. “I don’t have a living room, or even a comfortable place to sit and talk,” she apologized, “but I guess you could come inside, if you don’t mind sitting at the bar or at a game table.”

  Not at all ready to say good night yet, he nodded and slipped his hand into hers, and they stepped onto the sidewalk. His mouth went dry as sawdust and his groin swelled with anticipation, but another peculiar sensation suddenly swept over him.

  Feeling like eyes were upon him, he looked up and glimpsed what he thought was someone standing in the second floor window. Was it a woman? Wearing a slip or a nightgown? Her penetrating gaze slowly shifted from the street to Colt. But the moment their lines of vision connected, she disappeared in front of his eyes, and he marveled at whether he’d only imagined her.

  “Shay, is that your bedroom window?” he asked, pointing.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I think I just saw…”

  “What?” Her gaze flew to the window. “Did you see the woman I told you about?”

  He shook his head, not wanting to admit it. “Maybe. I don’t know. It was probably the curtain moving in the breeze, and the light from the street lamp reflecting in the glass.”

  Shay squeezed his hand and expelled a long breath. “You can tell me the truth. If she’d show herself to you, you’d know I’m not crazy.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.” Deep down, that verdict was still out with the jury. He took the keys from her hand and felt his arousal wither. “Let’s go inside. We’ll talk about what you think is happening here.”

  After Colt unlocked the front door, Shay flicked the inside switch and the saloon was bathed in light. “At least it’s bright in here,” he said, closing the door behind them. “Ghosts do their haunting in the dark, right?” His attempt at joking fell flat, because Shay acted as if she hadn’t heard.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Suddenly, she seemed distracted. “I can put a pot on.”

  “Don’t make it special for me. I’m strictly a morning coffee drinker.”

  “I don’t need it this time of night either.” She slowly glanced around the room. Rooted to her spot, she chewed her lip. She was edgy, and understandably so. The hair had stood up on the back of his neck the moment they’d walked in.

  “We’re not alone in here,” he stated.

  “So, it’s not just me. You sense them, too?”

  Colt angled his head and listened to the murmuring that sounded like distant thunder. “Yeah. Feels like this room is crowded with people. I can almost feel them moving around us.” He sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

  Shay snuggled against his shoulder. “It’s cigar smoke. I smelled it yesterday, too.”

  They stood as still as statues. He heard what sounded like poker chips clinking together on the game tables. When the piano in the back suddenly plinked out a few notes, his spine grew rigid and sweat trickled down his back. What was going on here?

  Shay wedged herself into his chest. His arm moved around her shoulders. As he held her secure, he could feel her heart beating in rhythm against his. The staccato rasps of their breathing seemed to be the only living noises in the room.

  There was no such thing as ghosts, Colt reminded himself. There has to be an explanation for the smells, the sounds, the feeling…

  Shay suddenly grew stiff in his embrace. She whispered, “Do you sense him?”

  Colt nodded. As much as he didn’t want to believe, he was sure a powerful presence had entered the room. Without a doubt, its intent was to assert itself in a formidable manner. What felt like a dense blanket of fog surrounded them, bringing with it the stench of something rotten, like seaweed or spoilt food.

  Something that felt like a fist punch to the stomach made Colt grunt and suck in a sharp intake of air. When he doubled over, Shay disentangled herself from his arms.

  “Are you all right?” Her eyes were wide.

  He nodded, while acutely aware that whatever was in the room with them was of a sinister nature.

  Shay’s gaze moved around the room. “He’s pure evil.” Her voice was barely audible.

  Without warnin
g, Colt grasped at his throat. It began to close and tighten, as if someone had stuffed a rag into his windpipe.

  “Colt! What’s wrong?” Shay hit him on the back a couple of times and screamed into the air. “Stop it! Leave him alone!”

  The weight of the invisible hands immediately lifted, and his throat opened up again. He drew fresh air into his lungs. Whatever Colt thought he’d felt in the room disappeared in an instant, along with the awful smell.

  “Are you okay?” Shay’s eyes bulged with terror, and her hands clutched at his arms in a death grip.

  “Yeah.” He rubbed his throat gingerly. “Who were you calling out to just now?”

  “The ghost. I wanted him to stop hurting you. I guess it worked.”

  “I guess so.” Colt had no idea what he’d experienced, but there had to be some logical explanation. There was no such thing as ghosts. He stared into Shay’s face, trying to figure it out. Her pretty hazel eyes reflected back at him.

  “That’s one ghost with anger management issues,” she said, apparently trying to lighten the mood. “He’s definitely upset about something. Maybe he doesn’t like that I’ve moved in. Tomorrow I’m going to start researching the history of this saloon. I want to know who the woman upstairs is, who this demonic spirit is, and whether they have some connection.”

  Colt nodded, still in disbelief about what seemed to have happened. He’d felt hands on his neck. He’d smelled cigar smoke and heard poker chips clinking. He’d heard the piano play on its own, and he’d felt something ominous around them. What it all meant was anyone’s guess.

  “I don’t think you should stay here alone tonight. You were frightened to death a moment ago. It’s not safe. That goon might hurt you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could reel them back in. What was he saying? That he believed a ghost had throttled him and might do the same to her? It wasn’t possible. Saying things like that would only serve to keep Shay’s illusions alive.