Immortal Cowboy

by Alexis Morgan

  She joined him on the porch, all too aware of Wyatt standing only inches away. “Didn’t mean to startle you, but the floor inside this particular building is rotten.”

  Shawn held on to the door frame and leaned inside to get a better look. “Whoa, the whole back half is caved in. Pity the poor sucker who found out the hard way that it wasn’t safe.”

  “Wait a minute.” He took a cautious step forward. “Those breaks look fresh.”

  They were. She just wished he hadn’t noticed. “Yes, I discovered the boards were weak. I haven’t been back inside since. I haven’t decided yet whether to hire someone to patch the hole and reinforce the support from underneath. There’s a cellar under the building that would give easy access for any repair work.”

  When Shawn turned to face her, it was clear he wasn’t buying her matter-of-fact description of the incident. His eyebrows snapped down to frame the anger in his eyes.

  “Let me get this straight. You walked in there and fell through the floor?”

  He moved closer, crowding her into backing up. He followed her step for step, using his superior height to intimidate her. That so wasn’t going to work. She stopped retreating and planted her feet, her hands clenched in fists at her side.

  “No, I did not fall through.”

  Her stomach lurched at the memory of how close she’d come to doing exactly that. She carefully schooled her expression and went on. “A couple of boards broke when I stepped on them, but I caught myself in time to avoid falling through. No harm, no foul. End of story.”

  His response was one note lower than an all-out bellow, his alarm over the situation all too clear. “Damn it, Rayanne, you could’ve been badly hurt in that death trap. What if you’d broken something? You would’ve lain there for hours or even days! You could have died!”

  One of them needed to remain calm to ramp down the tension, especially with Wyatt standing right next to them, his right hand on his gun. She took a long, slow breath before speaking.

  “Come on, Shawn. Clearly, I wasn’t hurt.” She did a slow spin, holding her arms out to prove her claim. “I now make a habit of checking to see if any of the other buildings I enter have a cellar or if they’re built right on the ground.”

  He wasn’t backing down. “Your mother is right. This whole place is a death trap. You can’t stay here alone.”

  Okay, that did it.

  “I hate to sound like a four-year-old, but you’re not the boss of me and neither is she. I’m an adult and a professional historian. Thanks to Uncle Ray, this property and the town itself both belong to me. I can and will stay here as long as I darn well want to. If you don’t like it, that’s too damn bad.”

  He jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “Be reasonable, Rayanne. You’ve got to admit this place is nothing but a disaster waiting to happen. You’ve got plenty of pictures and measurements. There’s no reason you can’t complete your research and write up your findings from your condo or your office at the college.”

  “No, I can’t.” She spaced the words carefully, injecting as much conviction into each one as she could. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the terms of my uncle’s will dictate that I live here until the first of September to finalize the transfer of the deed to my name. If I leave before then, I forfeit my inheritance. I’m not going to let that happen. Blessing belongs to me.”

  He looked thoroughly disgusted. “Your mom told me about your uncle’s crazy stipulations. No wonder she’s been talking to an attorney to see what it would take to break the will. He thinks she has a good shot at it.”

  “On what basis? She’s not the heir. I am.”

  Shawn’s mouth snapped shut, as if he realized just how far out on a shaky limb he was. She waited him out, making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere until he spit it out.

  “On what basis?” she repeated.

  Finally, he caved. “On the basis her brother was mentally unstable.”

  Well, that certainly came as no shock. She didn’t know if her mother was really worried about Rayanne or if she was jealous because her brother had skipped over his sister to leave his home and money to his niece, instead.

  “That’s a crock. He had post-traumatic stress disorder as a younger man, but he was doing fine. Besides, his attorney, who is now mine, as well, assures me that the will is ironclad. Uncle Ray clearly expected my parents would have issues with me inheriting Blessing because he took the precaution of having one of the top law firms in the state draw up his will to make sure the documents were airtight. They even included two different psych evaluations, stating that he was of sound mind when he signed the paperwork.”

  She looked past him at the town she’d come to love and the ghost who had his own space in her heart. “I’m sorry my mother put you in the middle of this, Shawn. I know you’re trying to be a good friend to me, but I’m staying.”

  Then she turned on her heel and marched off, not caring if Shawn followed or not. He could find his own way back to the cabin. About halfway to the end of the street, she stopped and turned back. No matter how mad she was at the whole situation, she wouldn’t leave him standing in Blessing, especially with a pissed-off ghost hovering right behind him.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she said, forcing a small smile. “I don’t want to fight on your only evening here. Let’s go back to the cabin. It’s been a long day already, and I’m ready for some downtime. I’ve got lasagna in the freezer that I can heat up for dinner, and then we can watch a movie if you’d like.”

  His charming smile was firmly back in place. “That sounds great, Rayanne, and then tomorrow maybe we can—”

  “No, Shawn, don’t go there. Come morning, you need to leave.”

  When he started to say something, she held up her hand to stop him. “Alone, Shawn. I’m staying here.”

  This time, when she walked away, he followed her. With his longer legs, he could have caught up with her easily. That he didn’t spoke volumes.

  Chapter 11

  The lights blinked out, leaving Rayanne’s cabin bathed in moonlight. Lucky for Wyatt, he was at home in the darkness, his vision as sharp in the shadows as it was in sunlight. But right now, none of his senses were telling him anything.

  He hated questions without answers. Always had. But when those unanswered questions were about Rayanne, they left him edgy and trigger-happy. Maybe he should head back into the woods to do some target practice but rejected the idea. He wasn’t sure if Rayanne would hear his gunfire if they weren’t in close proximity. More and more often, he felt solid and real when she was right beside him, but not always. Either way, if she was asleep, he didn’t want to disturb her.

  He stared up at her bedroom window hoping like hell she was sleeping alone there. It was none of his business if she’d decided to forgive Shawn’s attempts to bully her into leaving the mountain. Their relationship was a puzzle, that was for damn sure. The man acted as if he’d staked a claim on her, but one that Rayanne didn’t accept.

  On the other hand, it clearly pained her to fight with the fool. Had they been more than friends down below? When they weren’t striking sparks of temper, it was clear they knew each other well and even enjoyed each other’s company.

  Which brought him back to the question he’d been pondering. Where in that cabin had the city man bedded down for the night? Ray had never minded Wyatt wandering inside once in a while. Sometimes he’d lurk in the corner while Ray watched that box with moving pictures in it. Rayanne’s uncle had a fondness for what he called Westerns even though most only had a nodding acquaintance to reality.

  Wyatt had never ventured upstairs in the cabin, but knew Rayanne’s bedroom was at the front of the house overlooking the meadow. Ray’s was at the back, looking toward the woods. No light had come on in Ray’s old room all evening. So either someone was sleeping on the couch
downstairs or else Rayanne had invited Shawn into her bed.

  And damned if the very thought didn’t give Wyatt an even stronger urge to chase the bastard down off the mountain.

  The not knowing was driving him crazy. He’d be better off wandering the woods and town looking to see if any of the others who came to life in Blessing had shown up yet. Most only flickered in and out of existence, gradually staying longer as the time grew closer.

  He hadn’t mentioned anything to Rayanne, but he’d already spotted half a dozen or so of the townspeople over the past few days. Considering she could see him, would she also be able to sense whether others were around? Old Hattie certainly could. She’d pack up and leave for most of August because she didn’t like being bombarded by ghostly images. She’d told him so once.

  Rayanne, stubborn thing that she was, wouldn’t budge a step off the mountain between now and the day it all played out again. He knew that without asking. It was too important for the adult she’d become to face down the demons from her past.

  But with Shawn planning on carrying tales back down the mountain to Rayanne’s mother, she’d be lucky if they didn’t come boiling right back up to drag her back down to their world. If he had any decency left in him, he’d do whatever he could to make sure that she left with them.

  She didn’t need to watch him die, cut down in a hailstorm of bullets. What’s more, he didn’t want her to learn what he’d done there right at the end—something so terrible that he was still paying the price after more than a century of penance.

  He cared what she thought of him. Considering how he’d lived his life, he wasn’t sure what to make of that. True, he’d tried to do the right thing by Amanda and her boy, but look how that turned out.

  It was time to go. Not knowing about Shawn’s role in Rayanne’s life had him too wound up to simply stand there. He studied her window one last time, ready to retreat. Before he turned away, though, he caught a movement in the kitchen window. He moved closer to get a clearer look.

  It was Rayanne. He took two slow steps toward the cabin, hoping to draw her attention. She raised her hand in a small wave and pointed toward the cabin door. If his lungs still worked, he would’ve held his breath in anticipation. A few seconds later, she stepped out onto the porch.

  She didn’t stop there but headed straight for him. He wanted to hold out his arms, to pull her close to his chest, to kiss her long and hard. Anything to mark her as his. None of that was going to happen. It couldn’t.

  Rayanne had that sweet look a woman had when she was fresh out of bed with her hair all tousled and her eyes sleepy. She had on a white shirt over plaid short pants that barely covered her backside. Not at all proper attire for a lady, but he wasn’t about to complain, not when they allowed him to admire those long, tanned legs.

  “What’s the matter? Couldn’t you sleep?” he asked, despite never knowing when she’d be able to hear him or not.

  She nodded as she stretched her arms over her head and yawned. The movement drew the soft, white fabric tight across her chest, drawing his attention to the soft curve of her breasts. From the way they moved, it was clear that they were once again unbound.

  He’d give anything to be able to cup them in his palms, to feel their weight, to coax them into stiff peaks right before he took them in his mouth. Right before he took her, hard and slow. Had he ever wanted to bed any other woman this much in his life? He didn’t think so. Yes, he’d been attracted to Amanda, but nothing had ever come of it. She’d still been in mourning for her late husband, and then there was her young son underfoot all the time.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear all of that between Shawn and me earlier.”

  Even in the dim light of the moon, Wyatt could see the echo of anger mixed with pain in her eyes. All the more reason for her houseguest to depart at first light.

  “I wanted to punch him.” He softened the comment with a small smile.

  Rayanne tipped her head to the side and grinned up at him. “Me, too.”

  They both laughed, savoring the moment. He couldn’t remember ever enjoying a woman’s company so much. Or anyone’s, for that matter. He could’ve spent all night standing in that one spot and staring down into her pretty face.

  She shivered, a reminder that she was standing out there wearing next to nothing.

  Rubbing her arms, she said, “I forget that even in summer the nights are chilly.”

  “I’d lend you my coat if I could. You’d better get inside and try to get some sleep.” He walked her back to the cabin.

  She climbed the steps to the porch and turned to look back down at him. “What do you do all night?”

  Watch her cabin and wonder what it would be like to share her bed up there. That wasn’t something a man said to a lady, especially when he had no right to want her that way.

  “Wyatt?”

  He realized he’d never answered her. “I wait for you.”

  She drew in a sharp breath and took a half step forward, her hand lifting as if to touch the side of his face.

  Before she could do so, the door behind her opened and Shawn stepped out on the porch. “Rayanne, what are you doing out here? I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

  Wyatt retreated. He’d said enough. Too much. He’d wait to make sure she didn’t run into any problems with her houseguest and then go. She kept her back to her friend when she spoke.

  “Sometimes I come out here at night to look at the stars. You can see so many more than back down in the city.” Then she smiled. “I like that there’s always something special waiting for me.”

  Wyatt couldn’t find the words, so he simply nodded. Message received. Then he faded into the night.

  * * *

  Rayanne reluctantly followed Shawn back inside. She poured herself a glass of milk. She held up the carton. “Want some?”

  Shawn leaned against the kitchen counter. “I’m good.”

  She sipped her drink and waited to see what Shawn had to say. It was obvious he had something on his mind. She just wished he’d picked a more convenient time to decide he wanted to chat.

  Finally, he drew a deep breath. “Rayanne, I’ve been lying awake upstairs and thinking about how badly I’ve handled this whole situation. I should’ve called first, but honestly, I was afraid you’d say no. I also shouldn’t have let your mother’s concerns blind me to how important all of this is to you.”

  For the first time since his arrival, Shawn sounded like the man she both liked and respected. “Thank you for that, Shawn. I appreciate it.”

  He sidled close enough to tug the glass from her hand and slid his arm around her shoulders. “I still think we could share something special if you’d give us a chance. I know I sprang this visit on you, and I’ll leave in the morning if you still want me to. But how about this? Why don’t I come back in a few days, even a week from now so you have time to get your ducks in order so you can leave Blessing for a few days. We’ll go somewhere nice, just the two of us, and then I’ll bring you back up here.”

  No, that wasn’t happening. He’d heard what she’d said earlier, but he hadn’t really listened. She tried to step away, to put some distance between them again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? At least give us a fighting chance.”

  If his tone had been an accusation, she would’ve walked away. Instead, he was trying to coax her into letting him try to convince her that there was a spark, a possibility of something more than what they’d shared so far. He leaned closer, going slowly but obviously still determined to kiss her. She didn’t fight him, her own curiosity kicking in.

  His lips brushed across hers and then settled more firmly against her mouth. She had to give Shawn credit for giving it his best shot; it was a far more impressive kiss than they’d previously shared.

  T
hen he broke it off, his dark eyes staring down into hers for a second. Then he shook his head and leaned his forehead against her, his smile rueful.

  “This really isn’t going to work, is it?”

  When he stepped away, she should have felt regret. All she felt was relief. “I’m sorry, Shawn. I know it sounds clichéd, but I hope we can still be friends.”

  His laugh had little to do with happiness, but at least he didn’t press the issue. “The jury is still out on that, Rayanne. Right now all I can promise is that we can try. Tell me, though, is there someone else or is it just me?”

  What could she say to that? Telling him she preferred a dead gunslinger to a live college professor wasn’t going to help. Even so, she couldn’t help glancing toward the picture of Wyatt still hanging on the refrigerator door.

  It was too much to hope that Shawn wouldn’t notice. A brief flash of temper in his expression. “A phantom from the past won’t keep you warm on cold nights. I hope you realize that before it’s too late, Rayanne.”

  As if to prove his point, a cold blast of air shot through the room and sent Shawn stumbling backward into the opposite wall of the kitchen. He looked around as if hunting for the source of the draft.

  “What the hell was that?”

  Rayanne knew full well that it wasn’t a what but a who. However, she wasn’t about to tell him that it was the very phantom he’d just mentioned, a man who’d died a century before Shawn had even been born. She ignored her other uninvited guest, hoping he’d behave.

  “So you’ll be leaving in the morning?”

  “Yes,” he said, “I guess I should.”

  As he spoke, another chill rippled through the room. Shawn’s hair fluttered as if someone had just run their fingers through it. He shivered as he looked all over the room for the source of the cold touch.

  His eyes were a bit wild when he looked back toward Rayanne. “Did you feel that?”

  “Feel what?” she asked, trying to sound innocent but failing miserably. “You know how drafty these old cabins can be. Of course, maybe it’s haunted. Uncle Ray died here, you know.”