by Karen Rock
Katie-Lynn waved her hands in front of her face and then let out a huge sneeze.
Cole studied her, and his mouth twitched with humor. In baggy overalls over an army-green tank top, her hair tousled around her grime-streaked face, she looked ready for war, not a close-up. But she was pretty this way. Approachable. And the urge to kiss her naked lips, to hold her, had ridden him hard all day. “Did you take your allergy pills yet?”
“An hour ago.” She stopped her search for a tissue when he held one up to her nose.
“Blow.”
She honked loudly then laughed, rueful, as he tossed out the tissue. “Bet you do that for all the girls.”
“Nope.” Cole tore off the ancient box’s tape, pinning his attention where it needed to be.
Needed, not wanted to be.
Because every minute he spent working with dogged, determined Katie-Lynn drew him more and more.
“Some of the girls?”
At her teasing tone, he glanced up into her warm blue eyes and was lost. She was the only girl—the only woman—for him.
“Hey.” Katie-Lynn waved a hand in front of his face a moment later. “You in there?”
He ducked his head and tore open the box. “I’m here all right.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“I’m happy.” Cole pulled out broken and mismatched sets of salt-and-pepper shakers.
Katie-Lynn examined a pair of ceramic corncobs. “No, you’re not.”
Cole peered at her briefly then returned to ripping old newspapers off figurines.
“You forget, I know you.”
“Knew me,” he clarified.
“So what’s changed? You’re still working at the ranch. You’re not dating anyone. You only hang out with your family. Oh...and you’re leading an Al-Anon group. That’s different. In a good way. I’m proud of you for that, by the way.”
He ignored the rising warmth following her praise. Why, after all this time and heartache, did her good opinion still affect him this way?
“What prompted you to do it?”
“The town held meetings about the rehab clinic, Fresh Start. Some wanted to shut it down. They said people with mental health or addiction issues didn’t belong here. It got to me.”
“Your mother wasn’t happy in Carbondale.”
Cole grunted.
“Are the meetings helping you?” Katlynn scooted to his side and grabbed another lump wrapped in brittle newspaper.
“Nothing left to be helped with.” When he shrugged, his shoulder brushed hers, her bare skin silky soft against his. “She’s gone.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m not affected by it anymore.”
“Liar.”
He stopped sorting and peered at Katlynn. They were so close, their eyelashes touched. “Why are you poking at me?”
She passed the back of her hand across her face. “I don’t know. I just... Being around you again... I guess I still care.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“You’ve got everything you wanted—fame, fortune, rich men taking you out on yachts.”
“So what if they have yachts? Money?” Exasperation filled her voice.
“They can give you things.” His voice grew rough. “Things I’ll never be able to.”
His pulse raced as her gaze drifted from his eyes to his mouth. “You brought me flowers every day.”
“Daisies were your favorite.” His voice grew husky with memory, and his body tingled with sweet memories.
They looked into each other’s eyes and Cole felt the earth shift. He wanted to tell her he’d missed her. That he was happy to have her back in his life again, but he was too afraid of ruining things to voice that thought. Heck, he was too afraid to even have that thought.
Katie-Lynn held herself still as if debating. Struggling. “No one else can give me this,” she whispered.
Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifted her face and brushed her lips against his. The delicious taste of her, raspberry tart, made his eyes close and his hands fall to cup her waist. Coherent thought fled. With a groan, he kissed her back.
She was warm, her body needy. It had been a very, very long time since he held a woman—this woman—whom his body instinctively recognized. Longed for. Welcomed home. He took the kiss deeper, made it richer.
She was as bold and audacious as ever. She wasn’t waiting for things to happen, and neither should he. Her hands were on his chest, then around his neck as he pressed her down to the attic floor. She was soft, in all the right places. He devoured her mouth, nips and bites that made her sigh. His hands slid up her sides then rose to tangle in her thick hair.
He angled her face the way he wanted, kissing her senseless, and her breath quickened, matching his, their gasps loud in the echoing space. When she dug her fingers into his back, urging him closer still, he let his weight fall on her fully. Their hearts thundered against each other. One leg rose, her knee pressing the side of his hip.
Cole knew he should pull away, but Katie-Lynn was intoxicating, grabbing his hair, kissing him like he was the very oxygen she needed to survive.
Narcotic. The woman was a narcotic. He ripped his mouth away, struggling for control where there was none. This was why you didn’t get involved. Not even a little bit. Kissing Katie-Lynn for him was like an alcoholic having just one drink. No maybes. Just no. Her breathing was warm against his cheek, tightening even more of his muscles.
He rolled over and flopped on his back beside her, chest heaving. “I’m sorry.”
Her fingers wound in his. “I started it.”
“Are you sorry?”
Her grin was wide and unrepentant when he faced her. “Nope. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
“How long?”
“Twelve years. I’ve regretted leaving you a million times.”
His heart stopped in his chest. Stunned. “But you never came back.” When she’d left, it’d felt like she’d taken pieces of his heart with him. Pieces he needed to be whole.
Her expression turned inward. “There’s nothing for me here.”
Stung, he sat up and shoved to his feet.
Fool. She doesn’t want you back.
A soft hand landed on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know what you meant.” He looked at his feet and then slowly back up at her. “Been through it before. All my life.”
“You’re thinking of your mother.”
His shoved his balled hands in his pockets. “She wanted to be a singer, but she got pregnant with me instead. Carbondale, my father, us... We weren’t enough. It’s the same for you.”
She hung her head. “Do you blame yourself for what happened with your mother?”
When he didn’t respond, Katie-Lynn’s eyes rose to his. “Say anything, Cole.”
His jaw clamped hard enough to break. At last, he bit out, “Every day.”
“You were a baby.”
“An unwanted one.” He stared out the attic window at the distant, lonely mountain range.
“Your father wanted you.”
“I made Ma’s life miserable. It’s why I...” He stopped and scooped figurines back into the box, resealing it with fresh tape.
“Why you what?”
The acrid smell of Magic Marker stung his nose as he wrote salt-and-pepper shakers on the carton’s side.
“Cole. Please. Why you what?”
His eyes circled the boxes still stacked in the suffocating tight attic space, avoiding looking at her as the answer weighed down his tongue. It was a piece of his soul he’d buried, even from himself. “Why I never tried to stop you from leaving me.”
Silence, heavy with unspoken words, unfurled in the space between the
m. Regret. Longing. Despair. Cole capped the marker and heaved the box. “Better get this downstairs. We’re finished here.”
“How come you never told me that?”
Cole turned at the door. Katie-Lynn’s blue eyes glistened. “Would it have changed your mind?”
Her lips trembled. “Maybe. Probably.”
“Then there’s your answer. I don’t want a woman sacrificing to be with me or who feels sorry for me.” His wounded pride bled inside, steady and ice-cold. When she didn’t speak, he trudged to the door.
“I’ll look around a few minutes longer,” he heard her mutter as he headed downstairs, grateful for the small reprieve. He needed to collect his thoughts and build his walls back up in case he revealed more.
“I’ll take that,” his father said, pointing to the box when Cole reached the bottom of the stairs. “Go grab a drink. We all just finished our break.”
“Thanks, Pa.”
A few minutes later Cole drained the last of his soda and surveyed the mostly organized living room. The dachshund snoozed in a dog bed, provided by Sierra, he’d wager, and the cats clawed a new scratching post.
“Cole!” Katie-Lynn shouted.
He stomped back up to the attic. “What is...” His voice trailed off and his mouth dropped open.
From Katie-Lynn’s fingers dangled an old saddlebag with the initials ESL tooled in its leather.
“I took a last look around and spotted this, wedged up high in the back of the rafters.” Her eyes were so electric, they practically sparked. “ESL. Do you think this belongs to—”
“Everett Samuel Loveland?” His heartbeat thundered. “Only one way to find out.”
His breath stalled as Katie-Lynn pulled out each item: a midsize sheath knife, a tinderbox, a honing stone, a tobacco pouch and papers, a paper box of cartridges and a hair comb.
“Paper cartridge puts it in the right time period.” Cole opened the small box and peered at the ammunition. “This was for a Colt revolver. Might be Everett’s.”
“I wish we could know for sure.” Katie-Lynn scrounged around inside the bag then turned it upside down and shook it. A seam came loose, and a yellowed edge of paper poked out.
Cole cocked his head.
“Do you see that?”
Katie-Lynn’s eyes lit. “Something’s in there. Must be sewn inside the seams.”
Cole unsheathed the knife and cut through the cloth lining of the saddlebag. Adrenaline surged when a piece of paper appeared. “Got something.”
Katie-Lynn gripped his arm and peered over his shoulder. “Is that? Are those...?”
“Letters.” He freed the envelopes and carefully deposited them on the floor. They were faded and worn, the ink barely legible.
“No return addresses.” Katie-Lynn eased out folded sheets of paper with a shaking hand. She read aloud.
Carbondale, Colorado
May 2, 1907
Dearest,
I have but one thought, Everett, this afternoon of May, and it’s of you; and I have one prayer, only; my heart, that is for you. That you and I might walk together again, might linger in our sacred spot, forget these many months and these mournful cares and become lovers again—I wish it were so, Everett, and when I look around and find myself alone, I sigh for you; a little sigh, a vain sigh, which will not bring you home.
I need you more and more, and the great world grows close, pressing me until I can barely breathe. I am comforted to hold a piece of you, dearest, inside me. To feel it grow, as does our love and our future, I pray. Each movement within drives away the shadows preying on my doubts, my fears that our blessed plans will be for naught. Surely, fate must give us a life together when we have already created one.
Everett, forgive me, darling, for every word I say—my heart is full of you, my thoughts, too. When I strive to share something beyond our world, the magical space we inhabit, words fail me. If you were here—and oh, that you were, my darling, we need not talk at all; our eyes would speak for us, and your hand tight in mine. Our love would be in darkness no more, but revealed, so bright, all will love us, too, and celebrate our happiness, our desire to be together. Always.
My daydreams bring you nearer, thoughts of you to chase the weeks away till they flee. My heart scampers so. I have much trouble to rein it back again, and school it to be patient. Four months is not forever, though it might feel so. I shall grow more and more impatient until that dear day comes.
All my love, and another’s,
Maggie Elizabeth Cade
Katie-Lynn and Cole stared at each other, stunned.
Downstairs, the voices of Cole’s family rose and quieted. A tree branch scraped against the attic’s lone window. Somewhere a door slammed. An engine rumbled then quieted as a car drove away.
“This—this—” Katie-Lynn gasped, bright eyes wild. “This is everything.”
“Sheds light on the situation.”
She swatted him on the arm. “Tell me you’re as excited about this as I am.”
“On the inside.” Which he was. His gut clenched, and his heart spun fast enough to make him motion-sick.
“Everett and Maggie were in love. A secret affair.”
“And she was pregnant. She mentioned movement...”
“She signed it ‘all my love, and another’s.’”
“Baby Cade.”
“Baby Loveland,” Cole corrected, a sadness for Everett taking hold. Everett would have been a father, something Cole longed to become. But since the only woman he’d ever loved didn’t share his feelings on the matter, his chances looked dim.
“It must be Everett’s baby.” Katie-Lynn pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. “Can’t imagine it otherwise.”
“She seemed awfully keen to have Everett home.” Cole stood and helped Katie-Lynn to her feet. “Plus, her expression in the engagement photo. She looked trapped.”
“Unhappy for sure.” Katie-Lynn returned the letters and items to the saddlebag. “Let’s bring these back to the ranch. Wonder what other secrets we’ll find?”
Cole shouldered the bag and ushered Katie-Lynn down the stairs. “Only one way to find out.”
One thing was certain. Maggie Cade loved Everett Loveland, and it still hadn’t been enough to ward off tragedy. Katie-Lynn kissed him and said she still cared...and it wasn’t enough, either.
Whoever said love conquered all needed a swift kick followed by a heavy dose of reality.
* * *
“CARBONDALE, COLORADO, A sleepy town nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, is a peaceful, family-friendly place to live in America’s heartland. Unless you’re a member of the Loveland and Cade families, that is.”
“Cut!”
Katlynn dropped her smile and struggled not to droop under the intense afternoon sun. Unseasonable temperatures hovered at seventy-five degrees. The sky looked as though it’d never even heard the word cloud, let alone seen one. How many more takes?
“That was fabulous, Katlynn. Truly. Genius.” Gabe, her director, raked his hand through his unruly graying hair. “Phil!” he hollered to their lighting director. “Go to softbox to hide Katlynn’s crow’s feet.”
Katlynn hid her wince as Phil emerged from an oak’s shadow, a baseball hat shading his narrow face. “Not possible unless you want to move her under the tree or on the porch.” He pointed to the Lovelands’ ranch house.
“Crow’s feet, my patootie,” muttered Mary, blotting and powdering Katlynn’s face. “You don’t have a line on you.”
“Maybe I should get Botox.” Katlynn shuddered, imagining needles poking her skin. Many in the entertainment industry used it by their twenties. She was past due, really. In Hollywood, there was always someone younger, prettier and hungrier to take your place. Her pulse jumped like a rabbit at the possibility.
Mary
clucked as she spritzed. “Who wants to look like frozen plastic? You have beautiful skin, Katlynn.”
Katlynn smiled her thanks, her mind in overdrive. Hollywood gave her the spotlight, but it didn’t give her love. Not the real kind. Not like...her eyes lit on Cole. He was vaccinating calves in a distant pen, his cowboy hat and rolled-up sleeves accentuating his rugged good looks. Why had she kissed him yesterday? She blushed as she recalled the delicious weight of his body atop hers, the firm press of his lips taking control.
She’d like to blame it on impulse, but knew the reason was deeper—something she didn’t dare name.
“And do something about those freckles, Mary!” thundered Gabe. “She looks like Pippi Longstocking.”
Mary rolled her eyes and dabbed on concealer.
“I keep forgetting to wear sunscreen.”
Katlynn held still as Mary gripped her chin and peered at her intently. “I think they look cute. Plus, they give you extra color. No one’s calling you a corpse at least.”
Katlynn and Mary exchanged a wry smile. “There’s that. Sorry about not fitting into the rose dress.”
Last night, while reading through Maggie’s letters, Cole grilled her a steak and a big, foil-wrapped potato she couldn’t resist. Not when he’d heaped it with melted butter and lots of sour cream. Her mouth watered at the remembered taste of fluffy, buttery potato and juicy meat. Still. She should have resisted. Carbondale was sapping her willpower. Or was it Cole?
Mary waved an eyebrow pencil. “Jen sent backup wardrobe. Not to worry.”
Katlynn smoothed down the body-hugging material of her yellow dress. Thank goodness for Spandex. Even if she could hardly catch her breath. No more steak, she vowed. Or equally tempting kisses with Cole.
“We’re moving up to the porch,” Gabe shouted to the crew. He turned and lowered his voice. “Katlynn, whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”
“Sure thing.”
She tromped over to the porch, angled her body, lowered her chin, sucked in her gut and opened her mouth for another take.
Three hours later Katlynn stood outside the county clerk’s office, cell phone to her ear. “Hey, John. This is Katlynn. Leaving my fourth message. Will you please call me back or have Ma call? My number is...”
