him for touching her, but more irritated with herself for her immediate
and turbulent response to his touch.
As she headed for the store, she was aware of him getting out of the
car and following her, that damnable little smile curving his lips.
Drat the man anyway.
She didn't need this kind of complication in her life. She entered
Wiley's Feed Store, immediately embraced by the scents of grains and
leather goods. As she wandered up one aisle and down another, Luke
Black consumed her thoughts.
No, she didn't need the complication of a man in her life, but how
sweet it would be to be held in strong arms, to allow passion to
override all her worries. How wonderful it would be to share both her
fears and her dreams with a special man.
But not a man like Luke Black. Oh, no. If and when she ever decided
to gamble her heart again, she'd risk it to a banker or a lawyer,
somebody who wouldn't heed the call of the wind and ride off when the
vagabond spirit moved him.
She shook her head to clear thoughts of Luke away and instead focused
on the things she needed to pick up for the ranch. She needed to buy a
new gardening hoe. As she picked through the selection Luke stood next
to her, his very closeness distracting her.
"Here, let me," he said as she chose the hoe she wanted. He carried it
and followed her as she picked out a few more supplies.
"That should do it," she said as they approached Walter Wiley, who
stood behind the cash register like a wooden cigar store statue.
"Good afternoon, Walter," she greeted the tall, somber-faced man.
"Abby." He nodded curtly.
"Would you put this on my tab?"
He frowned. "Abby, I told you last time you were in that you needed to
take care of your tab. I can't give you any more credit until you pay
some of your balance."
"But I did." Abby frowned in confusion. "I wrote out a check a week
or two ago." She distinctly remembered writing the check. "Didn't
Rusty bring it in?"
Walter shook his head. "I didn't get a check and you don't get no more
credit."
"
"Just ring up the purchases, we'll pay cash," Luke said. As he pulled
a handful of bills from his pocket, Abby fought a wave of
embarrassment.
"I'll repay you just as soon as we get back to the ranch," Abby said as
she opened the car trunk and Luke stowed the purchases inside.
"Don't worry about it," he said as she slammed shut the trunk. "I kind
of like the idea of you being beholden to me?"
Abby ignored his statement. "What I'd like to know is what happened to
the check I wrote to pay off that balance." She leaned against the car
and rubbed her forehead. "I could have sworn I gave it to Rusty."
"Is it possible Rusty somehow managed to cash it?"
Abby shook her head. "He wouldn't do that. Rusty has been our foreman
ever since I was a little girl. I trust him like I trust all the
members of my family. I guess it's possible he stuck the check
someplace and forgot to bring it in. I'll ask him about it when we get
back."
"Where else do you need to go?"
"Grocery store. I promised Maria I'd pick up a few things for her, and
I know there's no problem with our account there."
He grinned. "Too bad. I thought perhaps I could deepen your debt to
me."
"Trust me, you'll get your money back. I go out of my way to live my
life not indebted to anyone."
Dusk was falling by the time they finished getting groceries and
started the drive home. "Why don't we stop at the diner and get
something to eat before going back to the ranch?" Luke suggested.
Abby frowned. She hadn't been back to the diner since the night of
Greg's murder. Still, it was getting late, Luke would have missed
supper for the ranch hands and Abby was in no mood to go home and
rustle up something to eat. On the other 'hand, she hated facing the
whispers and speculation that seemed to have become a part of her life
since Greg's death.
"You already braved the worst of the whispers in the grocery store,"
Luke said, as if reading her mind.
"So you noticed." Abby sighed. "I don't understand it, these people
have known me all my life. They know the kind of person I am. They've
been my friends and acquaintances for years, but suddenly they're
looking at me like they've never seen me before."
"Murder frightens people."
"If I was going to kill Greg, I certainly wouldn't have telegraphed my
intentions by screaming threats in front of witnesses before
accomplishing the act." Abby swung into the diner parking lot, having
made up her mind to grab a bite to eat before ventUring the rest of the
way home. She'd be damned if she'd forgo the pleasure of a meal out
because her neighbors suddenly found her fascinating.
"Some people will believe your passion got the better of you."
Abby laughed dryly and shut off the car engine. "I've never
experienced the kind of passion that would make me do anything crazy."
She opened her car door and got out.
Together they entered the diner and found a booth near the back, Abby
was grateful the place was less crowded than usual. The dinner crowd
had probably already come and gone, and the late evening coffee
drinkers and pie eaters had yet to arrive.
"I'm ravenous," Luke said, but he made no move to pick up the menu, and
his gaze made her think he wasn't talking about food.
She shoved a menu at him, refusing to be drawn into a game of innuendos
and double entendres. She had far too much on her mind to indulge
herself in a flirtation she didn't intend to follow through on.
"Hi, hon." Sheila waved from the counter. "I'll be with you two in a
minute."
Abby nodded.
"She a close friend?" Luke asked as he took off his hat and placed it
on the seat next to him. "I remember seeing her at the ranch after the
funeral."
"Yes, we're good friends. Although actually, I'm closer to her father,
the sheriff."
"How'd that happen? I mean, the sheriff isn't exactly in your peer
group." He set the menu aside and looked at her curiously.
"Junior and my father were best friends. Not a day went by while I was
growing up that they weren't hunting or fishing, or just sitting at our
kitchen table drinking coffee together."
Abby paused and laced her hands together on top of the table. "I was
eighteen when I got pregnant and Greg and I got married. Two months
before that my parents had died in a car accident. Greg left when Cody
was eight weeks old."
She paused again, this time to swallow against the bittersweet taste of
painful memories. "GOd, that was a summer of such grief. Junior
became the rock I clung to in order to survive."
"Why did your husband leave you?"
Abby sighed. "I don't know. He didn't want to be a husband. He
didn't want to be a father. He was angry because I wouldn't put the
ranch in his name. He wanted me to sell the ranch, but I couldn't do
that. It had been left t
o me in trust. It was not only Colette and
Belinda's heritage, it was Cody's."
She waved her hands dismissively. "I don't want to talk about this
anymore. None of it matters now."
"The past is never completely gone. It has a way of jumping up and
biting you when you least expect it."
Abby looked at him curiously. "What about you, Luke? Where are you
from? What's in your past?"
She got no answers for at that moment Sheila appeared at their booth to
take their orders.
IT WASN'T UNTIL their food had been served that Abby once again
broached the subject. "You never answered me. Where ar you from?"
"Back East."
"Could you be more vague?" she asked dryly. He considered her
question thoughtfully. Best if he stuck as near to the truth as
possible, he decided. "Chicago. My last address was just outside
Chicago." '
"Were you working on a ranch?"
"No, mostly warehouse work." A lie, but a fairly safe one. He
couldn't tell her the truth, not until he got the information he
needed. At the moment the need for revenge was secondary to the need
for answers.
He thought of the stack of letters back in his bunk-house, letters
chronicling Abby Connor's selfishness, her heartlessness, letters that
painted her as the kind of woman who could kill anyone who got in her
way.
He needed to find out the truth, and the only way he knew to get to it
was to get close to Abby, court her, force her to be vulnerable to
him.
"What brought you to Cheyenne? To my ranch?" Luke shrugged. "Fate.
Chance. I left Chicago and drifted for a while, picking up work here
and there. I made my way into Cheyenne and somebody mentioned you
might need' some hands at your ranch."
"And you mentioned on the way to the airport that you have no
family?"
A lump grew in Luke's throat. He swallowed against it and tried to
keep his voice as even as possible. "No family," he replied. He knew
what the lump was . unacknowledged grief. Someday, some-way, he'd
have to face the grief in his life, but not now, not yet.
He watched Abby as she ate. She didn't pick at her food, or take
dainty little bites. She ate with gusto, as if enjoying the act of
appeasing hunger.
He had a feeling there was a wide river of passion in her, despite her
protests to the contrary. He took a sip of his coffee, his gaze
lingering on her thoughtfully.
He suspected she was guilty of killing Greg, and for that act alone she
deserved nothing but his rancor, his revenge. However, there was
something soft and vulnerable about her, as well. And it was that
quality that would make his plans more difficult to stomach, harder to
accomplish.
Still, he'd made a vow years ago, a vow he'd not lived up to.
Redemption for him came in destroying her. But not until he was sure,
and for that certainty he needed facts.
"The police haven't come up with any other leads on your ex-husband's
murder?" he asked.
She shook her head, inner shadows deepening the blue of her eyes. "I
don't think they're looking very hard for leads." She set her fork
down as if his question had chased away her appetite. "I think the
authorities have decided they already know who killed him and aren't
looking hard for other suspects." "Then why haven't you been
arrested?"
She shrugged and stared down at the food remaining on her plate. "I
don't know. I suppose a lack of evidence. What frightens me is that I
think it's just a matter of time and I will be arrested." When she
raised her gaze to his again, her eyes were haunted with fear.
Luke fought the impulse to reach across the table and take her hands in
his, assure her it would all be okay. The last thing he wanted to feel
for her was compassion. That particular emotion had no place in the
scheme of things.
"I've got something for that boy of yours," Sheila said as she
approached their table. She placed a foam box in front of Abby. "I
know how Cody loves our chocolate pie, so you take this piece home for
him."
"Thanks, Sheila. But he won't be able to eat it until tomorrow. He's
spending the night with Billy Wallace," Abby explained.
"How about some dessert for the two of you?" Sheila asked.
"None for me," Luke replied. Abby demurred, as well, and Luke asked
for their Check.
By the time they got back in the car and were headed for the ranch,
night had fallen around them. Dark clouds skittered across the sky and
hid the moon from view.
"Looks like rain," Luke observed.
"We could definitely use some." Abby pulled up in front of the house
and parked the car. "Why don't you come on in and I'll get you a check
for the things you bought in the feed store."
"Okay." He followed her inside the dark, quiet house. As she flipped
on lights, he looked around with interest. The living room was large,
with a lived-in look that immediately forecasted comfort.
He followed her down a hallway to a small office. As she rummaged in
the drawer, Luke looked at the pictures that decorated the walls.
Photographs of the Connor girls were everywhere, pictures chronicling
their growing-up years. Abby was easy to pick out of each photo.
Taller than her sisters, her arms were always around them
protectively.
"You're very close to your sisters."
She looked up from the checkbook. "Yes. We've always had a special
relationship. Growing up on a ranch with no other kids around formed
an especially close bond." She focused back on her task of writing a
check.
Envy raced through Luke. Familial ties were something he'd never felt,
never experienced. Regret surged through him and with it an edge of
anger . anger directed at Abby.
She straightened and tore the check out, then approached him. "Here
you are. My debt to you paid in full."
He took the check from her and moved closer, consciously invading her
space. A blush colored her cheeks and she swept past him and out of
the room.
He followed, watching her hips sway softly in the jeans that molded to
her like lover's hands. He knew she Was conscious of his gaze, knew it
by the way her back stiffened as she moved on wooden footsteps across
the living room and to the front door.
She stepped out onto the front porch with him. The wind had picked up,
portending a storm. It tousled her hair and carded her scent to him.
In the nearby corral the horses kicked and neighed, as if they sensed
the coming storm.
Lightning rent the sky in the distance, followed a moment later by a
rumble of thunder. "You were right about the rain. Looks like we're
in for a storm," she said.
"Definitely," he agreed, and stepped closer to her. "I can feel it in
my blood ... the wildness." He took another step toward her, now so
close he could feel the heat from her. "Can't you feel it?"
Another flash of lightning illuminated her features for just a moment.
Starkly
lit, her gaze radiated a touch of desire, her lips parted in
subconscious invitation.
"You didn't pay your debt to me in full," he said softly, his hands
going to her shoulders.
"I didn't?" Whisper-soft, her voice was nearly lost to another roll of
thunder.
He could tell she wanted him to kiss her, and he wanted the same thing.
After all, it was the next step in his plan to get close to her, get
her to trust him.
He hadn't lied to her about the storm . as he looked at her, smelled
her sweet scent, felt her body heat reaching out to him, a wildness
pounded in his veins. "With any debt, there's always interest to be
paid."
Before she could reply, he dipped his head and captured her mouth with
his. Initially, she held herself rigid, as if refusing to be moved by
the kiss. He slid his hands down her back and pulled her intimately
against him, at the same time deepening the kiss in-vasively.
She surrendered, the unyielding stiffness of her body giving way as she
melted against him. The honeyed sweetness of her mouth, coupled with
the pliant closeness of her body against his, caused his senses to roar
and the initial, calculating reason why he'd wanted to kiss her to
Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes Page 6
