by Jodi Thomas
Sweat broke out on Wilkes’s palms when he saw the second family’s name: Grey.
He picked up his cell and dialed Yancy Grey.
“Hell,” Yancy said after four rings. “Do you have any idea what time it is, Wagner?”
Wilkes didn’t waste time. “Do you have any living family?”
Yancy grumbled a few seconds and answered, “None that I know of. My mother’s family all died off, and she never bothered to tell me my father’s name. Just said they ran off when they were still kids, never mentioned marriage. Mind telling me why we’re uprooting my family tree at six o’clock in the morning?”
“Because—” Wilkes tried not to yell “—the Stanley family who built that old house you keep saying calls to you were once partners with another family, and their last name was Grey.”
“You kidding?”
“Would I call you while it’s still dark to kid about something like that? Get dressed. I’ll pick you up in an hour. I found a few Stanleys living in Austin, and it might be worth a trip to find out if they were related to anyone who lived in the house.”
Wilkes had wanted to wake Angie before he left, but after the way he kissed her that night, he figured she’d shoot him through the door if he came knocking. She had to know how much he wanted her. One kiss and he couldn’t sleep. If they ever did make love, he’d probably self-combust.
Besides, with luck, he might be back in a day or two. Once he calmed down, maybe the feeling would cool. He’d had it happen a few times before with women he swore he wanted but by dawn he couldn’t get away from fast enough.
Only, Angie wouldn’t be like that. Once wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more.
As he tossed a bag in his car, he decided to worry about other things for a few days. Get his mind off her.
But his mind didn’t want to budge.
A little after seven he and Yancy hit the road. Wilkes called and asked Dan to pick Angie up and take her to work.
“Look out for her, would you, Dan?”
“I’ll watch over your girl,” Dan promised.
“She’s not mine.” Wilkes almost wished she was his. It had been a long time since he’d thought of anyone as his even for a night. The one girl he thought would be his forever hadn’t been. Lexie hadn’t waited for him and Wilkes had been trying to shake the feeling that he wasn’t worth waiting for ever since.
When he explained to Dan where they were headed, the sheriff didn’t seem too excited. “You two do realize that this is an old trail you’re trying to follow?”
“I know,” Wilkes agreed, “but for Yancy’s sake we have to see where this leads.”
The sheriff added, “Tell Yancy that relatives you don’t know are usually relatives you don’t want to find.”
Wilkes ended the call already wishing he was headed back home but knowing he had to give it a try.
Only, when they got to Austin, they ran into one dead end after another. Frustrated, Wilkes booked them both rooms at the Driskill Hotel and, after a good night’s sleep, they began again the next day and the next.
He checked in with Dan daily. No sign of the black Mercury. No more phone messages and nothing else left on Angie’s van. The sheriff seemed to think that there was a good chance that whoever had been watching her had left town. But Wilkes wasn’t so sure. If the stalker wanted something from her, he was taking his time.
When Dan mentioned that someone had messed with Carter Hayes’s brakes, Wilkes couldn’t stop asking questions. The sheriff didn’t know much about the brake problem, but Carter’s reasoning made sense. Either it was kids playing around and hoping to push the little travel trailer off the side of the canyon, or someone was simply hoping Carter would leave.
The old man swore he’d heard a car pull up near his camper one night, but he’d thought it was probably just kids parking or a drunk sleeping it off out by the museum.
“Did he leave?” Wilkes asked. “I’ve got another reason someone might want Carter gone. He’s a natural lookout for what’s happening at the museum.”
“Might be,” Dan agreed. “But he’s safe now.”
“Where?” Wilkes didn’t like the idea of the old guy being in danger.
“He took his trailer into the shop and is staying out at your place.” Dan laughed. “Seems Uncle Vern is running a bed-and-breakfast now he found out Angie can cook. I’ve even picked her up early the past few mornings. Best omelets I’ve ever had.”
Wilkes frowned. For Angie’s safety, he couldn’t tell Dan to back off no matter how much he’d like to. “I’ll be home tomorrow. And I’m betting on your second theory. It wasn’t kids. The man stalking Angie doesn’t want the old man around. I’m guessing he’s near, just waiting for his chance to catch her alone.”
After Wilkes ended the call, he thought about Angie’s bodyguards. One sheriff with way too much to do as it was. One old broken-down cowboy who loved flirting with the volunteers. One retired car salesman who was probably unarmed and believed stick figures were chasing him.
“We’re heading home as soon as we can,” he told Yancy.
“I agree. This can wait.”
Wilkes drove back to their hotel, lost in thought.
The way Angie kissed made a man lose all common sense. Hell, at the rate he was going, Wilkes might be Angie’s next stalker. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Every moment he wasn’t trying to find a Grey in Austin, he was thinking about her. Listing things he didn’t like about her and things he liked. After two days without her the “didn’t like” list began to get shorter.
He told himself he wasn’t looking for a forever woman, and even if he were, it would never be someone like her. Petite women always made him nervous. Her hair seemed to have a mind of its own. She talked too fast when she talked, and when she was shy she almost disappeared. Hell, she even had a cat. Since she wouldn’t let Doc Holliday out of the house, the damn beast insisted on following Wilkes around. Keeping her safe came with a price, he decided, and cat hair on his office chair was part of the bargain.
But Angie was taking care of Uncle Vern. Wilkes called to check on him while he waited on Yancy to load his gear into the truck.
The old guy told him not to bother coming back because he was eating food cooked in heaven every meal.
Several hours later, when they stopped for gas, Wilkes checked in with the ranch while Yancy picked up snacks.
After a dozen rings Vern answered and said he’d asked Angie to marry him.
Before Wilkes finished laughing, Vern mentioned the trouble in town.
“What kind of trouble?” Wilkes frowned. Crossroads was too small of a town to have problems. Maybe the one streetlight was out?
Vern took a deep breath, then delivered the bad news. “Lexie Davis is back. Everyone in town has seen her, including Angie.”
Wilkes fought not to react.
“You’re sure?”
“Yep, Rose Franklin called Miss Bees at the retirement village and she told Miss Abernathy, who told Cap. We used to fight grass fires together, me and Cap, and he knows how bad Lexie hurt you. I guess he felt the need to call and let me know.”
“We were over years ago, and by the way, I hate living in a small town. No one ever forgets anything. If I’d been born with a birthmark on my ear, I’d be that boy born with the funny ear for the rest of my life.”
Vern’s answer was simply, “You ain’t got no birthmark on your ear, boy. What you’ve got is a beauty queen who grew up to be a bitch.”
“She’s not mine. The beauty queen or the bitch. She never was.”
Wilkes fought down a few cuss words and went back to the real problem. “I haven’t seen Lexie since I left for the army.” He could still picture her crying at the airport swearing she’d be waiting in the exact spot when he got back. He learned late
r that she had a date with some guy that night. “I’m not interested in Lexie, and besides, she’s married.”
It crossed Wilkes’s mind that one of the reasons he didn’t come home when he got out of the service was knowing that he’d have to walk past the spot where he’d kissed her goodbye, and she wouldn’t be there.
Vern cleared his throat. “Something is up with that girl. Rose Franklin thinks she might be getting a divorce. Seems to need money. After two husbands she couldn’t boss around, maybe she’s decided to come back and give you another try.”
“You got any facts about her moving back, or just the Franklins talking?” Wilkes didn’t have to fake the little interest he showed.
“Well, one thing, she’s not in Dallas. Two, she’s trying to sell off her inheritance and her aunt’s not even dead yet. Seems to me if she’s still with that rich doctor, she wouldn’t be here.”
“I really don’t care.” Wilkes was ready to hang up but he had to ask one more question. “She still as beautiful as ever?”
“I don’t know. I ain’t seen her,” Vern answered. “But she’d have to really ugly up to go down past pretty.”
Wilkes hung up and dialed the museum. He hadn’t realized how over Lexie he was until this very moment. There had been a time when he would have taken her back, but not now.
Angie’s hesitant voice answered on the third ring. “Hello, Ransom Canyon Museum.”
“Angie.” Wilkes grinned just hearing her voice. “Everything all right?”
“Yes. Thanks for letting me stay at your place, Wilkes. Your uncle set up a cowboy patrol around the place just to make me feel safe. He’s a funny old man. Thinks he has to hug me good-night every evening before he turns in, like we’re kin.”
“Thanks for feeding Uncle Vern. And, Angie, you are a very huggable woman.” This wasn’t what he wanted to say to her. He wasn’t even sure why he called. Maybe he just wanted to hear her voice and now he was remembering how great she felt.
Wilkes gripped the phone and mentally pulled his thoughts off Angie. “How are things at the museum?”
“Fine,” she answered. “The ladies are planning to do a Country Christmas theme in the foyer. We’re going to hang quilts everywhere there is a wall. I’m even putting one of my mother’s in the mix.”
Wilkes closed his eyes. She was all right. She was working and happy. He could relax. She didn’t need him.
“I guess Dan told you what we were doing here in Austin. We’re not having much luck. Lots of records of Stanleys but none we can trace back to the house in Crossroads. Appears the house may have been passed down several times from one Stanley to another.”
“I thought Yancy said his mother spent a few years in Crossroads when she was a kid. Maybe she was born here. If so, she could have had relatives who lived here. I could do some checking.”
“That might help.” Wilkes didn’t want to hang up, but he was at a loss for what to say. “Angie, unless we find something, we’re heading back tomorrow. How about going out to eat with me when I get home?”
She hesitated, then finally asked, “Is this a payback for feeding your uncle or a date?”
“It’s a date. Don’t mention it to my uncle. He said he’s getting fat on your cooking. It won’t hurt him to skip a meal. I miss talking to you.” He closed his eyes, trying not to be too obvious. “Just me and you,” he added.
“Just talking?” She laughed, and he thought about how much he liked the way she laughed.
“Among other things. I like the way you feel in my arms.”
“Wilkes, you’ve already reminded me there is no forever or maybe even tomorrow where you’re concerned.”
Her replaying his words hurt. “Angie, I...” What could he say? That he’d reconsidered? That he’d changed his mind? He hadn’t known her long enough to even be thinking about tomorrow.
Lexie walked through his thoughts. She hadn’t waited. Would Angie if he asked her to?
“The date is on, Wilkes, but nothing more.” Angie broke up his worrying.
“Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll call you with details.”
The next morning they might be leaving Austin, but his thoughts were already home.
* * *
A LITTLE BEFORE sunset when Angie and Wilkes walked into Dorothy’s Café, Wilkes wasn’t surprised to see Uncle Vern and Carter sitting at one of the back tables waiting for them.
He leaned close to Angie. “You told him.”
“No, I didn’t. I simply said I had a date.”
Wilkes grinned. She’d given Vern the only clue he needed to figure it out. What Wilkes had hoped would be a few hours alone with Angie vanished.
To depress him even more, Angie hugged them both and then sat down between the old guys. She pulled a tattered book from her purse and began showing them early sketches of the canyons.
Wilkes took the last chair across from her and listened as she told them about a man in the 1920s who had written about caves along one of the shallow canyon walls.
After they ordered, Angie pulled a red stone from her pocket and laid it on top of the worn book. “What I can’t figure out is why I found both this book and this rock in the safe. Neither seems particularly valuable.” The rock looked as if it could have easily been picked up in the canyon, and the old book might go for a hundred dollars in a rare book auction if it were in better shape, but it was as worn as her father’s ledger book. “It took me an hour to figure out how to turn the combination to that huge walk-in safe in my office and this is all I found.”
Wilkes watched both his uncle and Carter lean back in their chairs as if Angie had set poison on the table and not simply a dirty old rock.
“What is it?” she asked.
Uncle Vern took a deep breath. “I don’t know about the book, but the rock is not something you want to keep. I had a cowboy show me a stone like that once. He was part Cree or Comanche, I forget which. Said the rock is called a bloodstone.”
Carter nodded. “I’ve seen pictures of rocks like that. Vern’s right. It’s nothing but bad luck.”
Wilkes had enough and picked up the rock. “How can a rock the size of an egg hurt anyone?”
“It doesn’t hurt. It steals.” Vern crossed his arms over his chest. “Bloodstones steal your memories.”
Wilkes thought of Lexie. “There are a few memories I wouldn’t mind forgetting.”
Carter shook his head. “No. It’s the good and bad memories that make you what you are. You got to take them all or it’s not you. When the stone does its dark magic, it takes them all a little at a time.”
Vern took the rock from Wilkes’s hand and set it back on the book. “The cowboy with Native American blood running through him told me he found a stone like this in the pocket of a man who was lost. Said the man was half dead and couldn’t remember his name or when he last ate.”
“But why would anyone put an old book with pages stuck together and a rock in the safe?” Angie obviously didn’t buy into the superstition.
That night as the wind seemed to howl outside the café, they talked of legends. Wilkes had heard all the stories; out here they were bedtime tales, but Angie was drawn in to every one, so he just sat back and watched her. Those big eyes. That sweet mouth. That quick mind trying to make sense of stories that were nothing but campfire entertainment.
When Wilkes stood to pay, the wind blew in a woman dressed in a long red cape as if she was going to an opera in a big town.
“I got your order ready, Lexie,” Dorothy yelled through the open window to the kitchen. “What kind of salad dressing you want? We got Thousand Island or French.”
Wilkes turned and came face-to-face with the one woman he felt he’d spent half of his life trying to forget.
“Wilkes!” Her voice held surprise, but her eyes did not
.
She flew into his arms before he could draw in a breath. Her mouth covered his and the kiss had nothing to do with hello. Her lean body slid against his as her arms wrapped around his neck. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was staking a claim on him and he had no say.
He finally got control and broke the kiss. All he’d done was lower his chin, and they were nose to nose thanks to her heels. She whispered something about how much she’d missed him and how she never stopped thinking about him.
As if they were the only two in the place, she pressed her mouth against his ear and added, “You haunt my dreams, cowboy. It is so good to see you.”
Wilkes, on the other hand, felt as if the eye of a tornado had just passed over him, leaving everyone else in the place untouched. The smell of her, the taste, the feel were all the things he’d thought he’d die missing, but he felt nothing in the hole where his heart had once been. Nothing.
This Lexie Davis was no more than a stranger.
He gently pushed her away. “I heard you were in town.” A few other questions came to mind, but he didn’t want to get into the past.
“I came hoping to see you. I thought we might...”
“I’m busy.” Whatever she was selling, he wasn’t buying.
“Oh, but...”
Wilkes cut her off again as he glanced back at the table he’d just left. “Angie, I’ll take you back to the museum if you’re ready. We might as well take your van back to the ranch.”
Vern grabbed Angie’s elbow and pulled her up. “Sounds like a plan. Time we all left.” The old man was suddenly in a hurry to leave. “I’ve been wanting to look at the engine of your old van. It don’t sound right, and we don’t want our Angie having car trouble, do we, Wilkes?”
“No, we don’t.” Wilkes, and everyone in the café, could easily read through the lines of Uncle Vern’s chatter, but Wilkes had to give the old guy credit for trying. Even though he wanted Wilkes married off, apparently just anybody wouldn’t do.
