sweet little girl of theirs. I wonder if the two of them will ever
stop acting like newlyweds
Abby smiled at thoughts of her younger sister and Hank, the man she'd
married. "It's only been a month since the wedding, they're still
allowed to act like newlyweds. Now, if I can just find a good man for
Belinda."
Sheila frowned. "Didn't she used to date Derek Walker before he left
town?"
Abby nodded. "I think Derek was Belinda's first real love." She
frowned and took a bite of the pie, not wanting to think about the man
who had been her first love.
"Speaking of first loves ... your ex has been in and out of here during
the last week," Sheila said, as if plucking the thought straight Out of
Abby's head.
"Yes, I heard he's back in town. I'm hoping if I ignore him he'll go
away."
"Speak of the devil..." Sheila gestured to the diner door, where Greg
Foxwood had just walked in. "I don't think you're going to be able to
ignore him this time." Sheila stood as Greg approached their booth.
"Sheila." Greg nodded, a slow smile stretching across his handsome
face. "How's the prettiest little waitress in town?"
Sheila's face blushed a becoming pale pink. "I'm fine, you scamp."
"Why don't you bring me a cup of coffee?" He slid into the seat Sheila
had vacated. "I need to have a little chat with my ex-wife."
As Sheila left, Abby fought the impulse to get up and leave. She'd
successfully managed to avoid Greg for the past week, but she'd known
all along a confrontation was inevitable.
For a long moment she simply stared at the man she'd once loved with
all the passion of a teenage
' girl. He'd changed little in the past six years. His hair was still
a luxurious black, his blue eyes as clear as a spring Wyoming sky.
With the wisdom of years and the objectivity of heartbreak, she also
noticed more telling features. A weak chin she knew indicated his lack
of character, thin lips that hinted at a hidden cruelty.
She searched her heart, seeking some remnant of love for the man who'd
fathered Cody. There was none. "What do you want, Greg?"
He laced his hands on the tabletop and bent toward her. "You know what
I want."
"Let me guess. Money."
He leaned back against the red vinyl and eyed her lazily. "Nope. You
aren't going to buy me off this time."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Why not? Don't tell me you've actually
managed to acquire some character."
"Oh, Abby, you wound me." He paused as Sheila reappeared at the table
and poured his coffee. When Sheila left once again, Greg looked at
Abby, his eyes hard and cold. "I want a relationship with my son."
Abby balled her hands in her lap. "That's rich," she said bitterly.
"Especially coming from a man who walked out when Cody was mere weeks
old."
"I did the right thing. I married you, didn't I? I gave the kid my
name."
Abby stared at him incredulously. Did he really believe that's all
she'd needed from him, a cheap diamond ring and his last name? "The
right thing? You deserted us." She drew a deep breath to steady
herself. "Greg, if you really want to do the right thing for Cody, you
won't see him. You've disappointed him so many times in the past with
your letters filled with empty promises."
"He's my kid just as much as he's yours. I got rights."
"Your rights were terminated when you walked out on us." Abby flushed,
realizing she'd shouted the words and had garnered the attention of the
people around them. Again she took a deep breath. "Greg, Cody is a
happy, well-adjusted little boy. If you really love him, if you really
care about him, leave him be."
"A boy needs a father."
"A boy needs a role model and you aren't the one I want Cody to have.
Twice before you've chosen money over seeing your son. That tells me
all I need to know."
"All that tells you is that I was temporarily low on funds." He sipped
his coffee, apparently unaffected by the turmoil he created in her.
"Aren't you going to finish your pie?" he asked.
She Shook her head. Her guts were too twisted with emotion to eat. She
should have left the moment he walked through the door. "How long are
you in town for?" she asked. "A day ... another week? How can you
possibly be a positivel part of Cody's life when you can't get your own
life together?"
"Maybe when I leave this time I'll just take the kid with me, teach him
a little about real life."
His words sent a cold fear shimmying up Abby's spine. The fear was
quickly usurped by rage . a rage that nearly blinded her as she slid
out of the booth.
She leaned toward him, uncaring who heard her, what disruption she
caused. "Listen to me, Greg, and listen well. I'm warning you right
now. Stay away from Cody." She strode toward the door, then turned to
him again. "You hear me? You try in any way to take Cody from me, you
mess with our lives in any way--and I'll kill you. I'll kill you."
She slammed out of the diner and toward her truck, her anger still
trembling through her. Damn him. Damn his black soul. She got into
the truck and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, trying to
get her tumultuous emotions under control.
Slowly her anger ebbed, leaving behind only a hollow ache of despair.
She started the truck and took off, knowing she couldn't go home just
yet. She didn't want Cody or the rest of her family to see her so
emotionally distraught.
She drove aimlessly, the window down to allow in the warm night air. If
she knew for certain that Greg truly wanted to be a father to Cody, she
wouldn't stop him. But leopards didn't change their spots.
Greg had proven to her over and over again that his reasons for wanting
to see Cody were less than altruistic. Twice before Greg had contacted
Abby about seeing Cody, both times hinting broadly that for a little
cold cash he'd go away. She'd paid him and he'd disappeared.
This time was different. He was here in Cheyenne and threatening to
take Cody. His game had suddenly changed and she didn't know the
rules. She tightened her hands on the steering wheel.
Greg had stolen her dreams years ago, seduced away her innocence, but
she'd be damned if he'd steal her son. She'd see him in hell first.
Luke BLACK SAT on the bed he'd been assigned in the bunkhouse and eased
off his cowboy boots. He closed his eyes and rubbed a foot, wondering
if another day in the damned boots would permanently cripple him. How
in the hell did the other men wear boots day in and day out?
The bunkhouse reminded Luke of his army days. Although it was too dark
to make out the other beds in the room, a variety of snores and grunts
attested to the fact that they were filled with ranch hands. Most of
them had been smart enough to go to bed at a reasonable hour, knowing
daybreak and work came early. But then, most of them didn't have any
personal interest in Miss Abby Connor.
In his stocking feet, using the moonlight as his guide, he
walked over
to the window that looked out onto the ranch house. Several hours ago
a carload of people had come home, but Abby hadn't returned. He eyed
the luminous hands on his wristwatch. Two o'clock.
Where had she gone? He'd seen her drive away hours ago. Did she have
a lover? Somehow he didn't think so. When he'd spoken to her earlier,
he'd noted an untouchable quality in her eyes, a cool distance that
made him believe it had been a long time since she'd been touched by
passion.
He limped back to his bed and eased down, grateful that the mattress
was soft and accommodating. Life as a ranch hand wasn't as easy as
he'd anticipated. But then, when had life ever been easy for him?
Still, the physical labor felt good. He'd spent too many years cooped
up in his accounting office, depending on hours at the gym to keep him
in shape.
Throwing an arm across his eyes, he thought of Abby Connor. She hadn't
been what he'd expected, although he wasn't exactly sure what he'd been
expecting. He only knew he hadn't foreseen the pale wheat color of her
short hair, nor the unruly cuds that danced like a frame around her
face. She'd worn no makeup, but hadn't needed any to emphasize the
blue of her eyes. He had anticipated she'd be attractive,
but hadn't been prepared for her fresh-eyed, unspoiled prettiness.
He wasn't fooled. She might look like a long-legged, milk-complected
ranch girl, but he knew her heart was black. He wondered if Abby
Connor had any idea just how difficult her life was about to get.
Despite THE FACT that it had been nearly three when she'd finally
gotten home the night before, Abby awoke at dawn. The first thing she
did was go into Cody's room.
Standing over him as he slept, her heart expanded with the kind of love
she knew she'd never feel for another human being. Fierce, so intense
it stole her breath away, her love for Cody was the sweetest, most pure
of emotions.
Gently she wiped an errant strand of pale hair from his forehead,
breathing in the sweet scent of childhood. One thing Abby had to give
Greg . he'd made a beautiful son. And if she knew Greg would be a
healthy presence in Cody's life, she'd accommodate his wish to see his
son. She leaned down and kissed Cody's forehead, smiling as be
puckered a frown.
Belting her robe around her waist, she left his room and padded to the
kitchen. For a moment she wondered why Maria hadn't started coffee
yet, then remembered that today was the cook's day off.
The fight the night before with Greg had left a bitter aftertaste in
her mouth. She started to make coffee, then decided instead to treat
herself to a cup of her favorite hot chocolate mix.
It took her only minutes to heat the water in the microwave, then scoop
two teaspoonfuls of the mix from the canister where she kept the
special mixture.
She sat at the table and wrapped her hands around the warm mug. Her
sisters teased her about her being the only woman in the world who
drank hot chocolate year-round.
She took a sip, enjoying the rich chocolate taste with the hint of
raspberry sweetness. The concoction was made especially for her in a
specialty shop in Cheyenne.
Her thoughts turned back to her conversation with Greg. Was he
bluffing? Was this just another attempt to extort more money from her,
or was he really serious about trying to take Cody? Lord kneTM she
didn't have the money for a custody battle.
It was hard to believe she'd once thought herself so in love with Greg
Foxwood. She'd just turned eighteen when he'd drifted into town and
come to work on the Connor ranch. Instantly she'd developed a crush on
the flirting, handsome man. She realized now he'd taken advantage of
her youth and inexperience. They'd made love in the moonlight half a
dozen times before she'd discovered herself pregnant.
"Moonlight madness," she said aloud with a frown. "Or temporary
insanity." Somehow she thought it was more the latter than the
former.
While she was thrilled that Colette had found and married the prince of
her dreams, and she desperately hoped Belinda would someday find a
special man, Abby had long ago set aside her dreams of love and
happily-ever-after.
Luke Black was wrong. She didn't hate men. She just didn't have any
dreams left to share with a man. She was a single mother running a
failing ranch. She didn't have the time or energy for a
relationship.
With a disgusted sigh, she emptied her mind of nonsense and instead
focused on making a pot of coffee in anticipation of the others soon
getting up for a new day.
Dawn was just chasing away the last of the night clouds when a knock
resounded on the back door. Frowning, wondering who would be here so
early, she hurried to answer.
"Can I come in for a minute?"
Abby eyed Sheriff Junior Blanchard in surprise. "It's awfully early
for a social call, Junior," she said as she opened the' screen door to
allow him in. "This isn't a social call."
A flutter of anxiety rippled through Abby's stomach as Junior's stern
features didn't relax into his usual friendly smile. "Hmm, sounds
ominous. Come on in. I just made a fresh pot of coffee."
She pointed him to a chair at the large oak table, then poured two cups
of coffee and joined him. "So, what has you out here so early? And
without a smile? Did I forget to pay some traffic tickets or
something?" She grinned, the smile slowly fading when Junior didn't
return it. "Junior, what's wrong?"
The sheriff passed a hand through his thick gray hair, his gaze not
quite meeting hers. "Abby, I've got some bad news. Greg is dead."
Abby hissed inwardly in shock. "Dead?" Her head reeled as she stared
at Junior in horror. "How... when?"
"He was murdered, Abby."
"Oh, my God." Immediately all kinds of mental images filled her head.
She'd hoped, she'd prayed, for many things where Greg was concerned,
but she'd never wanted him dead. Now there would be no opportunities
for Greg to mature and become the father Cody needed. She looked at
Junior, still stunned by the news.
"Somebody took a branding iron and hit him over the head. The branding
iron was from this ranch. It happened between the hours of ten and
two." Junior's gaze held weariness, sympathy and something else .
something that caused another shiver of apprehension to sweep through
Abby. "Abby, I need to know where you were in the hours between ten
o'clock last night and two o'clock this morning."
Abby stared at him, suddenly recognizing the alien emotion she saw in
his eyes. Suspicion. Heaven help her, Junior thought she'd murdered
Greg.
Chapter Two
Abby stared at Junior in horror. "Junior, you can't actually-believe I
had anything to do with Greg's death."
"It doesn't much matter what I believe. I've got to follow leads and
facts, and facts are, I've got a dozen people who heard you threaten
G'cg last night hours before he was found dead."
Junior shoved his
coffee cup aside as if he'd lost any taste for the brew.
A vision of herself leaving the diner, spewing threats, filled Abby's
mind. She'd been so angry, so frightened. She didn't even remember
everything she'd said, but she did remember telling Greg she'd kill
him. Stupid, empty threats, that's all they'd been. "Junior, you know
I could never hurt anyone," she exclaimed. "You've known me all my
life. You know what kind of person I am."
"I know how much you love that boy of yours, and I figure you never
know what a person is capable of when they're pushed into a corner."
Again his gaze didn't quite meet hers. "Abby, now's the time to talk.
You know I'll do what I can to help you, but I can't help if you don't
tell me the truth."
"Junior." Abby reached out and took his big, gnarled hand in hers.
"I'm telling you the truth. I had nothing to do with Greg's death."
His hand squeezed hers and his eyes flashed with paternal tenderness.
"I've got to tell you, Abby girl, right now it doesn't look good." He
gave her hand a final squeeze, then released itJ "Of course, the
investigation has just begun. Now..." He took a notepad from his
breast pocket and flipped it open, then withdrew a pen. "Tell me where
you were last night between the hours of ten and two."
Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes Page 2
