by Linda Conrad
She made tons of promises to herself, as well. She vowed not to lose her senses ever again when he was near. She was done with that, she hoped. And when he left, she would not look back. She'd go on with her life and become the best danged ranch foreman that ever existed.
She rather neatly buried the rest of her weird vision, too. She pushed deep into her heart the part she'd failed to mention to Gray. Those elders must've been mistaken in their predictions about her being the mother to their sons. It was clear she wasn't the chosen one. At least, not as far as Gray was concerned.
"You want to run the part about a 'vision' by me one more time?" Cinco asked the question with disbelief in his voice. He leaned back in his huge, leather chair and waited.
Gray had known this would be difficult. He'd worried about it all night while trying to sleep on the couch in the Gentrys' great room. Explaining his beliefs to a white man who didn't have an open mind seemed rather fruitless, but Abby had insisted that they try with her brother. Gray set his jaw and folded his arms over his chest.
"I'm trying to, if you'll please listen," Abby pleaded.
She began to pace back and forth in front of Cinco's desk while she flung her fisted hands in the air, punctuating her points. Gray leaned against the wall of Cinco's office, amusing himself by watching her while he waited to see what her brother's response to her interpretations would be.
Abby replayed both of their visions—and Gray's grandfather's explanations as well. She did a fine job, but Gray still had to wonder what it was that she'd been told in her vision that she continued to leave out.
When she finally wound down, Cinco turned to him. "Okay, Parker. Let's say for the moment that I buy this vision thing. What do you have that someone would want badly enough to kill you for? Not the mustangs, I know better."
Gray straightened up and shrugged a shoulder. "Beats me. But I do know that yesterday afternoon someone was watching us while we were at my lodge on Skaggs property."
Abby swiveled her head hard to stare at him. Her eyes shot little daggers of dark meaning and he guessed he should have told her about the stalker first. But she didn't make any remarks about what he'd said to Cinco.
"Tell me a little about how you came to own the mustangs," Cinco calmly inquired as he steepled his fingers in front of his face.
Gray told him the best he could about his mother's will and his stepfather's response to it. The legal proceedings had been mercifully short. Gray didn't understand wills and trust and such, but fortunately the judge had dismissed Joe Skaggs's claims almost as fast as he'd brought them up.
"Hmm," Cinco murmured, when Gray finally finished with all he could remember. "Mind if I do a little checking around? I'd like to dig into your stepfather's business a bit, and I have a friend at the county courthouse who might be able to shed some light on the subject. Lawsuits are public proceedings in this county."
Gray shrugged. "Be my guest, if you think it'll help."
"Knowledge is always powerful," Cinco told him. "The more information we have, the easier it will be to dig out a motive for what's been happening."
Cinco pushed back his chair and stood. "In the meantime," he began, addressing both his sister and Gray. "Just to be on the safe side, I think you should change the way you've been going about things."
Abby jumped in front of her brother with a scowl on her face. "If you're about to suggest that we split up, don't bother, bubba. We're sticking together and that's all there is to it."
Cinco grinned down at her, then lifted his eyes to include Gray. "I wouldn't think of splitting you up, sugar," he drawled. "But I do think it's odd that all your troubles have been occurring at or near the Gentry-Skaggs fence line."
Gray imagined that fact had just proved their point. "You're saying you believe the threat is really mine?"
"Well, it's a definite possibility. One we can't afford to ignore." Cinco laid a hand on Abby's shoulder. "Why don't you two try staying as far removed from the border between our two ranches as possible?"
He turned to Gray. "In fact, I think it'd be a good idea for you to stay off Skaggs land entirely for a while."
"I can't. I have a responsibility to the mustangs."
Cinco shook his head. "You could teach one of the Gentry Ranch wranglers what to do. Why don't you call your stepfather and tell him you and Abby are going away for a few days and that she'll be sending a hand over to feed and check on the mustangs."
Gray started to object. He didn't know if he could trust someone else with the care of his herd. But then he glanced over at Abby. At the angry red scar on her cheek and the vulnerable look in her eyes. And let duty make his decision.
"Yes, I'm sure my stepfather would allow that. But I'll need to pick up a few things."
Cinco nodded. "Right. Leave Abby here at the house and take Jake Gomez with you to watch your back. Do you have to enter the Skaggs main house to get what you need?"
"Hold on just a minute, bubba," Abby interjected. "Why do I have to stay here?"
"I don't want you anywhere near Skaggs property until this whole thing blows over," Cinco told her. "I'm sure Gray understands what I mean."
Gray reached toward Abby and took her hand into his, giving her strength through his touch. "Your brother is right, Abby. I can go quicker and easier if I don't have to worry about you being hurt because of me." He didn't drop her hand but turned to address Cinco. "I don't have to go anywhere near their main house to pick up my things. Most of what I need will be at my lodge."
"But, Gray…" Abby broke in.
He turned his attention back to her. "I won't be gone long. A couple of hours at most."
"Yeah," Cinco broke in. "And you'll be real busy getting a few of your things together, too, missy."
"Me?" she asked. "Where am I going?"
"I think it might be very clever if you two really put on a show of going away," Cinco urged. "That way, anyone who would be a danger to you from either the Skaggs or the Gentry ranches will let their guard down until you return. We should get the break we need before then."
"But where'll we go?" Abby inquired with a grumble. "I don't want to leave the Gentry."
Cinco chuckled and shook his head slightly. "No, sugar, I know you wouldn't let some potentially dangerous threat push you off your beloved ranch. But I've had another thought. You remember Granddad Teddy's little cabin down by Rockridge Creek?"
Gray watched Abby's eyes light up with something very different than he'd ever seen there. Something soft maybe. Or wistful might be a better word, he couldn't be sure.
"Of course I do," she told her brother. "We played there day after day when we were little. How could I forget that. I love that cabin."
Cinco inclined his head. "Well, Meredith and I were down that way a few weeks ago. The cabin needs some work, but the roof is sound and the well is still pretty decent." He flicked a glance over to Gray. "If I take a truck with supplies, some tools and a generator, can you make the place livable for a week or two?"
"Sure. I suppose so." Gray thought about the possibility of spending a couple of weeks alone with Abby and very nearly told Cinco his idea stunk. How would he ever be able to keep his hands off her under those circumstances? Especially now that he knew what treasures awaited him.
"But, uh, how many rooms does this cabin have?" he asked her brother.
Cinco laughed and put a hand on Gray's shoulder. "Why? You worried that Abby's friends and relatives will think poorly of her for spending a week alone with you?" He punched Gray's arm. "No one will know where you two are except Meredith and me and Jake. And we're not overly concerned about our engaged sister sleeping in a cabin with her fiancé."
Gray felt a constriction in his chest at the thought of lying to Cinco. Gentry was a man who'd always treated him honorably. He was the first white man Gray had ever trusted implicitly, and Abby loved him without reservations.
In addition to the he about the engagement, Gray didn't want to think about staying night after n
ight in the same one room with Abby, the woman he was trying desperately to keep at a decent distance. He decided he didn't care much for either of these looming circumstances.
"Okay. Look, Cinco," he began. "I think we'd better tell you…" Gray hesitated as Abby tightened her grip on the hand she still held, squeezing down with a fierce grasp.
She caught Gray's gaze with a sharp and pointed stare. Her meaning was quite clear.
"Tell me what?" Cinco prodded.
Gray shook his head and backed off. "Oh, never mind," he saw the relief flood into Abby's eyes. "It's just that I've had some experience in remodeling houses, and you might not like everything I will do to this little cabin of yours."
That brought a smile to Cinco's suddenly serious face. "Oh, don't you worry about that any. You go right ahead and improve whatever you want," he said through a wide grin. "I suspect my sister will keep you way too busy to get much remodeling done, though."
And that, Gray muttered to himself, was exactly what he was afraid of.
Abby was still mumbling cuss words under her breath twenty minutes later as she jammed a few more pairs of jeans into a soft duffel bag. Her mind was reeling with questions and goofy emotions she wished would go away. There was nothing she hated worse than all this confusion and turmoil.
If Cinco hadn't suggested that she and Gray go to the Rockridge Creek house, she might've confessed the truth right then and stayed here at the main house far away from the confusing temptation that Gray presented. But the little cabin from her childhood drew her.
Actually, she'd been sorely missing the cabin ever since her parents' disappearance. But she hadn't had the nerve to face the place alone. The rough-sawn rooms and quaint stone fireplaces reminded her too much of her mother. Abby tried to think why that was. She shrugged and decided it must've been because her mother had always been so fond of the place.
Abby's mother's family had been Texans for even longer than the Gentrys—nearly two hundred years now, and Kay Gentry had treasured her roots. Mom always said the cabin reminded her of the stories she'd been told of the early settlers and the hardships they'd endured to make a home.
Abby blinked and found wetness on her cheeks. Drat. Maybe going to the Rockridge cabin was not such a terrific idea. Not only would she be faced with having to deal with what she felt about Gray, but she might also have to deal with the buried memories of her mother.
Kay Gentry's memory was something Abby needed to keep folded gently away inside her heart. No one could help her with it, no one could bring her mother back.
But the problem of Gray and the things he made her feel, that was something she had to talk to someone about. Someone who had a little more experience with this kind of thing.
She zipped up the bag and tugged it down the stairs in search of her sister-in-law. Meredith was someone she could ask without being too embarrassed. After all, Meredith was married to Cinco now and would at least understand why she needed to know.
Abby found her sister-in-law in the office that Cinco had made especially for her. Here Meredith kept flight plans, maps, books and two computers. But it wasn't a sterile, dry workroom. No, the walls were painted in a soft, sage green, the couch covered in butter-colored leather and the polished wood floor gleamed with a feminine shine.
Cinco had put Meredith in charge of the ranch's fleet of aircraft. She flew the corporate jet when necessary, did her turn as one of the range pilots and scheduled all the other flights that flew in and out of the Gentry Ranch airstrip.
She was a fantastic pilot, Abby knew, but Meredith was also approachable and understanding. The two of them had shared a special bond since almost the moment they'd met.
Meredith loved Cinco with a passion that showed clearly in her eyes, and Abby loved her for that, too.
"Hey, you got a minute?" she asked after she knocked softly on Meredith's open door.
"Abby Jo." Meredith moved toward her, grabbing her up in a huge hug. "How're you feeling, sweetie? I've been so worried about you."
"Well … physically I'm fine, but…" She hesitated, not really knowing how to begin.
"Ah. You've got heart troubles, is that it?" Meredith dragged her into the room. "Come on in, have a seat and we can at least talk them out."
Meredith offered her a glass of water. "I've been meaning to talk to you about Gray, anyway."
Abby absently accepted an icy bottle and set it down on the old stage-coach chest Meredith was using as a side table. "Oh? What do you want to know about Gray?"
"I guess maybe it's not really Gray I want to know about," Meredith began. "But I've been doing some research on Texas history … as a surprise for Cinco. You see, I figure if I'm going to be a Texas rancher, I should know what's happened to the land and the people in the past."
Abby took a swig from the water bottle and nodded. That sounded like something her very thorough and precise sister-in-law would tackle.
"Anyway…" Meredith opened a bottle for herself and took a swallow. "I've come across the name Parker a couple of times and I was just wondering if maybe Gray is related to them … even though he doesn't claim Texas as his home."
"Parker?" Abby searched her brain for that name in her state's history.
"I recently finished reading the story of Cynthia Anne Parker who was captured in a raid and was raised by the Comanche," Meredith explained. "The name and the fact that the Indians were Comanche sort of rang a bell with me. Do you know anything about it?"
"Sure, I do. Everybody knows that sad story. Most of us 'round this part of Texas have Comanche blood in our backgrounds, but that story makes us want to keep it quiet. I don't have any idea if Gray is related to that Parker."
"You and Cinco are part American Indian?"
Abby nodded. "A little. Way, way back."
"Tell me your version of the Parker story will you?" Meredith asked. "It's always better to hear from a native."
"Okay." Abby brought the old story back to the forefront of her mind. "It was 1836 and Texas was barely settled. Mexico still claimed most of the land, but that was the year we won our independence. The Comanche were trying to keep the range open so the buffalo herds and wild horses would have room to roam. Anglos that came from the east to settle here faced dangers from several fronts.
"Cynthia Anne Parker was nine years old when she was captured by a Comanche raiding party," Abby continued. "Instead of killing children during those times, the Indians generally took them and raised them as then-own. Most of the kids were never found or heard from again."
Abby took another swig of water and could clearly hear her grandmother's voice retelling the wretched tale of the kidnapped little girl. "Anyway … when Cynthia Anne was about thirty-three the Texas Rangers found her with her new Comanche family. They recaptured her and killed her Indian husband, but her children managed to run away and escaped back to their tribe.
"But Cynthia Anne had been Comanche for too long." Abby shook her head sadly. "She didn't want to come back to her white roots. But her Texan relatives refused to let her go home to her children. She pined away, couldn't accept the strange white man's ways that she'd forgotten.
"In less than four years poor lost Cynthia Anne died of a broken heart."
"What happened to her children?" Meredith asked quietly.
Abby thought a minute. "I'm not sure about them all, but I do know that one of her sons grew up to be a very famous chief, Quanah Parker." She smiled at the memory of his story. "He lived a long time and married many women. Had over twenty children I've heard tell."
"So Gray might be related to him?" Meredith probed.
"Maybe," Abby murmured. "I'll ask him." Something in the story she'd just told was important, she mused. But for the life of her she couldn't think of what it was she'd said or why it would be of any consequence.
Abby dragged her thoughts back to the present and decided she'd better get to why she'd sought out Meredith in the first place. "I was just wondering if you could tell me a little abou
t … how to make a man, uh, want to make love."
Abby clapped her hand over her mouth the minute the words were out. She couldn't believe she'd had enough guts—or was that stupidity—to ask such a question.
After a momentary surprised look, Meredith's whole face wrinkled up in a mirth-filled smile. "Oh? Haven't you two—you know—done the deed yet?"
Oh, God. This had been truly a stupid move. "Of course we have," Abby quickly clarified. "It's nothing like that. He just… Well, the truth is, he said he doesn't want to do it again." She hesitated and remembered to keep up the pretense of their story. "Until we're married that is. Do you think that's because he didn't like what we did?"
"Oh, I doubt that. But you liked it too well to wait?" Meredith guessed.
"Yeah," Abby sighed. That was the real truth. Even though she didn't want a long-term commitment any more than he did, she'd realized she did want to be close to Gray again. She needed to find out more about the strange feelings she had when they were lying in each other's embrace.
Meredith threw an arm around her shoulders. "Well, I know a couple of things that might help." She grinned. "But first, show me the clothes that you've packed to take with you to the cabin."
"Clothes? You mean like jeans and shirts?"
"No, sweetie," Meredith purred. "I mean like underwear and nightgowns."
* * *
Ten
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"Abby, please talk to me." Gray thought the silence had gone on long enough.
Cinco and Jake Gomez had just left with their trucks and trailers, and Abby was busying herself with carting supplies into the cabin. On their entire long ride over here on the backs of Thunder Cloud and Abby's mare, she'd said no more than a few words.
Gray had tried to get her to tell him what she was thinking, whether she was angry at him for almost revealing their secret to her brother. But she'd simply shaken her head and stayed quiet. He didn't want to make her any madder—but enough was enough.
