"Abby, I know you're disappointed. I was hoping to get some answers,
too." He finally broke the silence as they pulled up in front of the
house. He shut off the engine, then turned to face her. "All this
means is that we need to dig deeper, question more people."
"It's hopeless," she said, her voice flat and tone-less. "I'll go to
prison and either Richard Helstrom or Henry Carsworth will end up
owning the ranch." She stared blankly out the front window. "Hank and
Colette will be all right. They have each other and Hank can find work
anywhere. But Belinda will be all alone ... and Cody..." She pressed
her lips tightly together, as if thoughts of her son threatened to undo
her temporary hold on her composure.
"You never struck me before as a quitter," Luke replied. "But if
you're ready to roll over and play dead, then I guess you deserve to
lose the ranch and your freedom."
He got the response he wanted. Her back stiffened and her eyes flashed
with fire as she jerked back to look at him. "That's easy for you to
say," she snapped. "No matter what happens when this is all over,
you'll just get on your horse and ride away, back to your own life in
Chicago. Meanwhile I've got five weeks to figure out who committed a
horrid crime and no clues to follow. I'm not about to give up, but I'm
allowed to be momentarily discouraged." Luke grinned and nodded.
"Good, that's better." She studied his features for a moment, then
returned his smile. "You did that on purpose."
"Anger is always better than despair." He handed her the keys to the
truck. "I wouldn't turn down a cup of coffee if someone was to invite
me in for one."
She nodded. "Okay. I think I could use a cup of hot cocoa myself."
They got out of the truck and went into the house. "Go on in and have
a seat." Abby motioned toward the kitchen. "I'll just be a minute, I
want to check on Cody."
As she disappeared down the hall, Luke went into the kitchen. He found
the coffee and started a pot, trying not to remember that the last time
he'd made coffee in this kitchen it had been before a sweet session of
lovemaking with Abby.
He tried not to think of that, knew such thoughts would only increase
his own frustration. And he was frustrated. He no longer knew what to
believe, no longer knew why he remained here in Cheyenne. He should
return to Chicago, let the judicial system and the legal authorities
figure out who killed Greg and who should be punished.
He sank down at the table, his thoughts moving from Abby to Greg.
Seeing that horrible room where Greg had lived the last of his days had
been difficult. Profound sadness had art owed through him, a sadness
coupled with enormous guilt.
"Thanks for starting the coffee," Abby said as she walked into the
kitchen.
He nodded. "Cody all right?"
"Sound asleep and Belinda is reading." She got a cup from the cabinet
and heated water in the microwave. "I worry about her, she spends too
much time alone. Sometimes I think Belinda prefers the animals on the
ranch to people."
"At least with animals you always know where you stand. They aren't
capable of deceit or manipulation." He sighed and watched for a moment
as Abby opened a container and added a tablespoonful of what appeared
to be cocoa mix to her hot water. "While I was waiting for you, I was
thinking about Greg, and all his deceit and manipulations over the
years."
Abby poured and set her cup on the table, then poured his coffee and
joined him. "Greg wasn't really a wicked man, he was just weak, always
looking for fast money, the easy way out of any problem."
Luke frowned and wrapped his hands around the warm cup in front of him.
"Yeah, but I keep thinking maybe if I'd done something different when
he came to live with me he would have turned out differently."
"What would you have done differently?" Abby took a drink of her
chocolate, her gaze curious.
"Been more stern, been less stern, I don't know." He sighed. "I just
feel like I might have made a difference in Greg's life if only I'd
tried harder."
"That kind of thinking is crazy." Abby leaned back in her chair and
took another sip of her drink. "It's exactly the way I felt for months
after Greg left me." Her eyes darkened with her memories. "I thought
if only I'd been more understanding, a better wife. If only I'd done
something different, he would have stayed."
"You must have loved him a lot."
She smiled, a sad little gesture that touched Luke's heart as strongly
as her tears had before. "I thought I loved him, but I realize now
what I thought was love was more of an infatuation and a need to have
somebody by my side. My parents had just died and Greg seemed so
strong, so sure of himself." She shrugged. "We were both very
young."
"But you grew up and I don't think Greg did."
"I had to grow up. I had a baby to take care of, two younger sisters
looking to me for leadership and a ranch to ran." She finished her hot
chocolate, then looked at him blankly. "What were we talking about?"
"Greg." Luke noticed the hazy un focus in her eyes and he leaned
toward her. "Abby, you feeling all right?"
"I feel fine. In fact, I feel wonderful." She didn't look at him, but
rather seemed fascinated by the wall behind his head. "Everything
looks so bright, so vivid. Can you see the colors, Luke?"
Adrenaline flooded Luke as he realized something had happened to her.
Somewhere in the space of the past ten minutes or so, she'd drifted
into a muddled mental state. Her eyes held the same foggy, dreamlike
quality they'd had on the night he'd found her up in the dragon tree.
"Abby, maybe you should go to bed now?" he suggested, his mind
whirling as he tried to figure out what had set her off, what possibly
might have caused her to lose touch with reality.
"No, I don't want to go to bed." She stood, stumbling slightly. "I
want to ride Blackheart and feel' the night wind on my face." She
closed her eyes, a smile curving her lips as if she already felt the
caress of a night wind. "Yes ... yes, I'll go for a tide." She opened
her eyes and started for the door, then gasped in surprise as Luke
grabbed her arm and stopped her forWard progress.
"Abby, a tide on Blackheart isn't a good idea," he said.
"It's not?" A small wrinkle appeared between her brows. "But why?"
"It's late." Blackheart is probably sleeping. You don't want to
disturb his rest this late at night. " Luke knew he was babbling and
as he continued listing reasons she shouldn't go riding, she reached up
her hands and placed them on either side of his face.
She stared at his face with an unnatural concentration and intensity.
Her fingers didn't remain still, but rather danced over the surface of
his skin, as if she were blind and she was reading his features through
her fingertips.
Despite the bizarreness of the situation, her touch evoked a surge of
desire within him. The sweet scent of her perfume reminded h
im of the
honeyed taste of her kisses, the evocative sounds she'd made when he'd
made love to her.
But desire fought with concern and a curiosity of what had happened to
make the change in her. She'd been fine before she'd started drinking
her cup of hot chocolate. Any flicker of desire fled his mind at this
thought.
He stepped away from her and grabbed the tin of the dry mix he'd
watched her add to the hot water.
"Abby, who else drinks this stuff?." he asked. "Me. Only me."
"Cody doesn't drink it ... or either of your sisters?" She shook her
head, the wrinkle once again back in her forehead. "They don't like
it. Just me. I'm the only one who likes to drink it."
Luke opened the lid and stared into the dark, powdery mixture. "Abby,
the night you climbed into the dragon tree, did you have a cup of cocoa
before then?"
"Oh, Luke, the dragon tree." Her eyes gleamed with excitement. "Let's
go find the dragon tree."
He realized he wasn't going to get rational answers from her tonight.
She was in a world of her own, and the best he could do was make sure
she stayed safe and unharmed.
He stared down thoughtfully at the cocoa mix, his mind whirling with
suppositions. Was it possible Abby was being drugged? It seemed odd
that she'd been fine, rational, before taking the drink, Had she been
drugged the night of Greg's death? And if what he thought was true,
then who was responsible? Abby, where do you get this stuff? "
He looked up and his blood ran cold. The back door stood open and Abby
was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
"Abby." Luke called into the darkness of the night. He narrowed his
eyes, trying to see her form in the sliver of moonlight that peeked out
from behind a bank of clouds. Dammit, how could she have disappeared
so quickly? She was in no condition to run wild in the dark.
He headed for the dragon tree, instinctively knowing that's where he'd
probably find her. As he ran, his mind whirled. If Abby was being
drugged, was it by the same person who called and pretended to be Greg?
And if so, for what reason?
Motive. Everywhere he turned that's what seemed to be missing. If
somebody else had killed Greg, then what was the motive? If somebody
was drugging Abby, then what was the motive? He knew the two had to be
tied together by threads of evil. As far as the phone calls went, the
voice Luke had heard on the tape recorder had been Greg's voice, not
somebody mimicking it. But how in the hell was that possible?
All suppositions and possibilities fled his mind as he reached the
dragon tree and found Abby huddled at the base. She looked like a
frightened child, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her hands
covering her eyes.
"Abby?" He called her name softly.
"Luke. I'm so scared. Something is wrong with me. Something is so
wrong. Everything is too bright, my eyes hurt, my brain hurts." She
didn't remove her hands from her face and Luke's heart ached for her
helplessness.
"Abby, let me take you back inside. You need to sleep. When you wake
up, everything will be fine. Y " You promise? "
"I promise," Luke said. Before she could resist him, before her mind
could whirl in yet another direction, he leaned down and scooped her up
into his arms.
She turned into his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck,
clinging with trust while keeping her eyes tightly closed.
As Luke carded her toward the house, a slow; burning rage filled his
chest. Who was responsible for this? Who had turned a strong,
vibrant, independent woman into a clinging, helpless shell of herself?
Who was playing mind games with her? Making phone calls from beyond
the grave, stealing checks and paying them to Greg?
He took her right to her bedroom and placed her on the bed. As she
remained stiff, with eyes closed, he gently removed her Shoes and
socks. When he'd finished, she opened her eyes and stared at him, her
fear changing the blueness of her eyes to near black.
"What's happening to me? What's wrong with me?" she
"Shh, we'll talk about it in the morning." He pulled down the blankets
and urged her under, then sat in the chair next to the bed. He leaned
over and stroked her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Dizzy ... the walls are breathing. I can see them moving in and out."
She closed her eyes once again. "It's better with my eyes closed ...
like looking in a kaleidoscope." She sighed. "Don't stop," she
murmured as he paused in his caress of her forehead.
"I won't. I'll be right here for as long as you want me." He remained
at her side long after she'd fallen asleep. It wasn't just fear that
she'd awaken and do something crazy that kept him next to her, but
something deeper.
During their lovemaking Luke had felt a connection forged, a bond that
went deeper than their flesh. And in each day since he'd felt that
connection growing stronger. It went beyond admiration into an
emotional caring he'd never experienced before. He didn't want to
analyze it, didn't even want to contemplate that it might have a
future. He knew better. He had no place in Abby's life, wasn't the
kind of "real" cowboy Cody wanted as a father. He was simply a
grieving half brother to a man whose death had left behind a mess. Once
the mess was cleaned up, he'd be gone.
ABBY AWOKE SLOWLY, lingering in the twilight state between the
unconsciousness of deep sleep and the consciousness of full awake ness
Warmth surrounded her, the masculine warmth of an embrace. It felt
good. She didn't question it, wondered only if she were immersed in a
particularly vivid dream.
"Hey, Mom, what's Luke doing in your bed?" Cody's voice ushered in a
cold blast of reality.
Abby's eyes snapped open at the same time Cody bounded onto the bed and
Luke sat up. "Does this mean you really are gonna be my stepdad? Huh,
Luke? Is that why you're in my mom's bed?"
Luke jumped off the bed as if he'd been shot out of a cannon. Abby
stared at him blankly, then as vague memories from the night before flu
tried through her head, she turned her attention to her son.
"No, honey, Luke isn't going to be your stepdad." She couldn't quite
meet Luke's eyes, although she intended to ask him later just what the
hell he'd thought he was doing in her bed. "I wasn't feeling well last
night and Luke was nice enough to stay with me."
"But he'd make a good stepdad, Morn. He makes good pancakes and hot
dogs and he cleans the horse stalls real good. I think we should marry
him."
"And I think you should go make your bed and get dressed for the day,"
Abby replied sternly.
"Okay." Cody crawled off the bed and took off running down the
hallway. "Hey, Aunt Belinda ... Luke slept in Mom's bed last night,"
he announced as he ran.
"I'm sorry," Abby said, finally looking at Luke, who had the expression
of a deer caught in a headlight
He swallowed and forced a smile. "No, I'm sorry. I began the night in
/>
the chair next to the bed, but halfway through my back started hurting
so I crawled
Abby smoothed the front of her T-shirt. "It happened again last night,
didn't it? I went crazy."
"Yeah, but I think I've figured out what's..." He stopped mid-sentence
as Belinda poked her head in the room.
"Everything all right?" Belinda looked at her sister worriedly.
"Fine," Abby replied, her cheeks warming beneath her sister's scrutiny.
"I was ill last night. Luke stayed with me. It's no big deal."
"Want me to start breakfast?" Belinda asked, her gaze still curious on
Abby.
"That would be fine," Abby agreed, embarrassed by the entire scene.
When Belinda left, Abby turned back to Lukel "Now, what were you
saying?"
"I need to talk to you, but I want to run a couple of errands first.
Can I borrow your pickup to go into town?"
Abby grabbed her purse from the dresser top and withdrew her keys. "You
want to tell me what you're up to?"
He hesitated then shook his head. "Not yet. We'll talk later, when I
get back from town." He leaned down and picked up her cocoa mix tin
from the floor by the side of the bed.
"What are you doing with that?"
"Where do you get this, Abby?"
"A store on Main Street. It's called Heavenly Brews. Why?"
"I've got a hunch. Like I said, we'll talk when I get back."
Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes Page 18
