fade.
As she wound her arms around his neck, he felt as if he'd swallowed the
storm. Lightning flashed in the pit of his stomach and thunder
resounded in his rapid heartbeat.
He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected the sweet desire that
kissing her evoked. He hadn't anticipated the mind-numbing sensations
that flooded through him.
A splash of raindrops caused her to gasp and Pull away from him. "You
shouldn't have done that," she said, the words coming out On a
breathless gasp. "I wasn't doing it alone," he said wryly.
She moved away from him. "Okay, we shouldn't have done that."
"Why not? I enjoyed it and you did, too."
"Yes, but I told you I have rules about getting involved with my
workers."
He reached out and touched her mouth with his forefinger. "Rules are
made to be broken. Sweet dreams, Abby." He didn't wait for a reply
but instead turned and walked off the porch and toward the
bunk-house.
Abby watched him go, her lips still burning from his touch. She ducked
inside the house, afraid the raindrops would sizzle as they hit her.
She locked the front door, then leaned heavily against it, waiting for
her heartbeat to slow, her breathing to return to normal.
Oh, she'd forgotten. She'd forgotten how wonderful it felt to be in
strong arms, how it felt to be pressed tightly against a male body.
She'd forgotten how a mere kiss could send her senses reeling and stir
desire to fever pitch. But it wasn't just any kiss. It had been
Luke's kiss that had so stirred her.
She roused herself from the door and shut off the living room lights.
As she walked down the hallway toward her bedroom, thunder once again
boomed overhead.
Stepping into her room, she turned on the light as rain pelted her
window. The rain was welcome. So far it had been a hot, dry summer
and the cattle were having to scrounge to find grass. A good rain
would help.
She pulled the curtains closed, her thoughts jumping back to Luke. As
much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that reveled in
his interest in her. It had been a long time since a man had looked at
her with desire-filled eyes. Something about Luke filled her not only
with a sweet passion, but also with a feeling of inexplicable dread.
She'd promised herself a long time ago that she'd never again risk her
heart to love. But loneliness makes a cold bedfellow, she thought as
she changed into her nightgown.
Luke was not a good bet on which to wager her heart. No family. No
ties. When the harsh Wyoming winter swept the area, he'd probably
leave.
The phone rang and she jumped in surprise at the unexpected sound.
Diving across the bed she grabbed the receiver, hoping the noise hadn't
awakened Belinda.
"Hello?" she answered. There was a moment of silence.
"It's me. Greg."
Abby gasped in horror and dropped the phone. Lightning blinded her
momentarily and thunder crashed overhead. For a moment Abby felt as if
the world as she knew it had tilted, plunging her into an abyss of
madness. It had been Greg's voice. Dear God, how had her ex-husband
managed to call her from beyond the grave?
Chapter Five
Abby stared at the phone, waiting . dreading the fact that it might
ring again. She was unable to grasp how. How was it possible it had
been Greg's voice on the line? And yet she knew his voice, knew it as
well as she knew her own.
Minutes ticked by, agonizing minutes. But the phone remained mute. Had
she imagined the whole thing? Lightning slashed the sky outside her
window, followed by a rumble of thunder that sounded like low, demented
laughter.
She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting off a shiver of fear.
Once again she wondered if the stress of the past several days was
playing with her sanity. Had the phone rung, or had it only been a
figment of her imagination?
Pulling herself up off the bed, she tried to still the frantic throb of
her heart. Calm. She needed to be calm. She couldn't think with
terror filling her mind. She left her room and went down the hallway
to Belinda's. Not bothering to knock on the door, she opened it and
made her way across the dark room to the bed.
"Belinda?"
The lump beneath the covers didn't move.
"Belinda?" Abby reached out and gently shook the sleeping woman.
"Wha..." Belinda reluctantly stirred. Abby reached over and turned on
the lamp beside the bed. Belinda groaned and flung an arm across her
face to shield her eyes. "Abby, what's wrong?"
"Did you hear the phone ring a few minutes ago?"
Belinda sat up, squinting against the glare of the light. "I was
sleeping, I didn't hear anything. Why?"
"I got a phone call a few minutes ago." Abby hesitated, then drew a
deep breath. "It was Greg."
Belinda stared at her. "Abby, that's impossible. Greg is dead."
"I know ... I know, but it was his voice."
"What did he say?"
"He just said, " It's me. Greg. " Then I hung up." Abby stared at
her sister, wanting Belinda to make sense from the madness, needing
Belinda to come up with a reasonable explanation.
"Abby, honey. It was probably just a prank, kids causing mischief."
Abby frowned, wanting to believe, but no kid could have managed to
duplicate Greg's voice. And it had been Greg's voice. "It didn't
sound like any kid. It sounded like Greg."
Belinda placed a hand on Abby's shoulder. "Abby, you've had a rough
week. Your mind probably isn't as clear as it normally is. Greg is
dead and dead men don't make phone calls."
"Of course, you're right." Abby stood, sorry she'd awakened Belinda.
Kids. It had to have been kids and because Abby was stressed, she'd
imagined it sounded exactly like Greg. "I'm sorry I bothered you. Go
back to sleep." She turned off the light and realized her sister was
already once again asleep.
Abby wasn't so lucky. Sleep didn't come easy to her. She sat in her
room, afraid to turn off the lights, afraid Greg might call again,
afraid she was losing her mind.
The storm passed with the darkness of the night, and the last of the
rain clouds skittered away as the sun peeked over the horizon.
By the time dawn arrived, Abby had managed to convince herself Belinda
had been right. The phone call had been a prank. Besides, she had
other things to worry about, like another day of trying to keep the
ranch running smoothly.
As she showered, she remembered Luke and the passion-filled kiss that
had rocked her to the core, stirred her senses as they hadn't been
stirred in years.
Was he truly interested in pursuing a real relationship with her, or
was he merely passing time, indulging in summer passion before moving
on with his life? .
Every man came with a past, but Luke seemed reluctant to talk about
his. She knew almost nothing about him, except that his gaze held a
heat that warmed her, and his lips had tasted like wild desire.
> She'd sworn to herself she'd never get involved with another cowboy,
never trust her heart to the whims of a drifter. But rules are meant
to be broken.
Luke's words came back to her, whispering a sweet seduction in her
ear.
She turned the water to a blast of cold, cooling any heat the memory of
Luke's kiss had evoked. One day at a time. She'd learned to survive
by living that adage.
Once dressed, she decided to find Rusty and ask him about the Wiley's
Feed Store bill. Before heading out to Rusty's quarters, she stopped
in the office to look over the checkbook. As she thumbed through the
stubs, she realized several checks were missing and unrecorded.
She frowned, irritated with herself. She'd been lax lately, not
thinking clearly since she'd heard Greg was back in town. She'd have
to be more careful about recording payments. Hopefully when she got
her next bank statement, she'd be able to straighten things out.
Outside the air smelled sweet and fresh and the sun beat warmly on her
back as she walked to the separate building where Rusty lived. As
foreman, unlike the rest of the hands, Rusty didn't reside in the
bunk-house, but rather had his own living space in what had once been
the old smokehouse.
Although small, with a bathroom and a kitchenette that had been added
over the years, the smokehouse was apparently all the old man needed,
for he'd never complained.
Abby knocked on the door, hoping she wasn't so early he was still in
bed. He answered immediately. "Miss Abby." She rarely came here and
surprise was evident on his face. "Uh ... come in. I was just getting
ready to have a cup of coffee before heading to work."
Abby stepped inside the small room, curious to see the place Rusty
called home. A single bed served double duty as sleeping space at
night and makeshift sofa during the day. A portable television sat on
an end table, an easy chair filled out the remaining space in the
room.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Rusty asked as he went to the area
that contained an apartment-size stove and refrigerator.
For a man who'd. lived in this place for fifteen years, Rusty had made
no permanent personal mark. No pictures, no knickknacks or favorite
items appeared anywhere in sight. Funny, she thought, that Rusty had
spent so many years on the ranch working for the Connors, and Abby knew
no more about him than she did any of the workers who drifted in and
out with the seasons.
"Miss Abby?" Rusty held up a coffee cup.
"Oh, no, thanks," she said, pulling her thoughts back to the matter at
hand. "Rusty, I went into Wiley's Feed Store yesterday and he told me
we hadn't paid our bill. Didn't I give you a check to take care of
that a couple of weeks ago?"
Rusty frowned, his gray eyebrows pulling together to form a single line
across his brow. "I don't remember you giving me a check for
Wiley's."
"Are you sure? It's so clear in my mind. We were standing in the
office and I handed you the check and told you to pay off our
account."
Rusty shook his head thoughtfully. "No, I don't remember that at all."
His face lit up. "Oh, maybe you're thinking about when you gave me the
check for the fencing supplies we bought a couple weeks ago."
Abby sighed and rubbed the center of her forehead. She would swear
she'd given that check to Rusty. The scene was so clear, So vivid in
her mind. But she was also aware that her mind hadn't exactly been
trustworthy of late. "Perhaps," she finally said. After all, what
possible reason could Rusty have to lie about it? A phone rang. "I'll
just get out of here and let you answer that."
Rusty shrugged. "The anSWering machine will get it."
"No, that's all right. Go on, and I'll get out of your hair."
As she walked back to the house, she once again replayed the scene in
her head. She distinctly remembered handing Rusty a check and telling
him to pay the Wiley bill, but she also remembered a phone call from a
dead man.
Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, she decided she definitely
needed a jolt of caffeine if she intended to make it through the day
without a nap. "Morning, Abby."
She jumped at the familiar deep male voice coming from the shadows by
the barn. Luke stepped into the dawn light, an intimate smile playing
on his lips.
"Good morning." She didn't slow her pace, didn't feel up to bantering
with him after her sleepless night. Her mind was already too confused.
At the moment she didn't need or want the additional confusion Luke
Black brought her.
"Sleep well?" he asked, falling into step beside her.
"Not particularly." She lengthened her stride, but his long legs
easily paced her.
"Let me guess. You tossed and turned all night, wishing our kissing
hadn't stopped."
Abby halted and faced him. "It might surprise you, Luke, but I have
other things on my mind besides your kisses."
The smile fell from his lips as his gaze searched her face. "What's
wrong, Abby?"
For just a moment Abby wanted to lean into him, allow him to pull her
into his arms so she could absorb some strength. She wanted to tell
him she'd sleep walked and wound up in the yard, that last night she'd
heard Greg's voice on the telephone, that she remembered things that
hadn't happened and didn't remember things that might have happened.
"I just have a lot on my mind this morning," she finally answered.
"It's more than that," he countered. He reached out and touched her
cheek. "I can see it in your eyes."
She batted his hand away, disturbed by the heat that immediately
swirled through her at his touch. "I'm just tired," 'she said.
"Nothing more." She whirled around to leave. "Tell Rusty to have one
of the men saddle up Blackheart. I'll be out later to take a ride."
Luke watched her disappear through the back door of the house.
Something was bothering her. Guilt? Fear? Various emotions had
radiated from her eyes, shown in the stress lines of her face. Murder
would do that to a person. Sooner or later she'd break completely,
unable to handle the heaviness of her guilt. He intended to be with
her When it happened. And he intended to be the one to turn her over
to the authorities when it happened.
"I saw you last night."
Luke jumped and swore at the voice coming from behind him. He turned
to see Bulldog glaring at him. "You saw me what last night?"
Bulldog took a step closer to Luke, bringing with him the sweet scent
of the peppermints the man ate all the time. "I saw you kissing Miss
Abby."
"That's right, I did kiss Miss Abby last night."
"You ain't gonna hurt her, are you?" "By kissing her? Nah."
Bulldog frowned, frustration evident on his blunt features. "I know
kissing doesn't hurt, but you know what I mean. I don't want you
messing around with
Miss Abby and making her cry. "
"Did Greg make her cry?"
Bulldog's eyes narrowed. "That man was
a devil. He broke Miss Abby's
heart in a million different ways." Bulldog shoved a hand into his
pocket and withdrew a piece of candy. "I may not be too smart, but I'm
smart enough to know a devil when I see one, and Greg was a devil." He
popped the candy into his mouth. "And I'm glad he's dead." He started
to walk away, then turned to face Luke once again. "I might not be too
smart, but I'm smart enough to hunt you down and make you pay if you
hurt Miss Abby." This time when he turned to walk away, he didn't look
back.
Luke watched him go. As big as a mountain, Bulldog was a curious mix
of man and boy. Luke knew Bulldog was most comfortable when in Cody's
company, playing boyhood games that required minimal intelligence and
maximum imagination and energy.
Bulldog's loyalty to the Connor sisters was undeniable. Was it intense
enough for him to kill a man he considered the very devil himself?
For the first time Luke entertained the thought that perhaps Abby
wasn't guilty of the murder. Still, even if she didn't actually kill
Greg, she had much to do with his final fall. He didn't intend to let
up on her, but he did intend to keep an eye on Bulldog. If the man had
killed Greg, Luke didn't think he had the social skills to cover his
Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes Page 7
