Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes

by Midnight Wishes(lit)

  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