by Jodi Thomas
Angie didn’t want to talk, but she had wondered how on such flat land people could tell directions. On cloudy days it would be hard with no ocean or mountain range, or even hills for as far as a man could see.
She saw the light of his headquarters in the distance.
Doc meowed from the backseat.
“You remembered Doc.” She smiled at Wilkes. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten about the cat.
“I put him back there while you were looking around your cabin. Figured you wouldn’t be staying there tonight, no matter what. When I told Doc he was going back to visit his friends in the barn, he got real excited.”
“We’d better keep him in your house. He might run off.”
“He didn’t run off last time. He was hiding in the barn.” Wilkes met her stare. “Besides, when he sleeps in the house, he wants to share my pillow, and a cat is not who I’m willing to share it with.”
As they pulled into the circle of lights around the house, she saw something in his eyes. A need. A longing like she’d never seen before when a man looked at her. “Are you saying I’m overprotective of Doc?” she managed to ask even though she knew the cat was not on his mind.
“Maybe,” he said as he turned his attention back to parking.
She watched his profile and told herself she’d imagined the way he’d looked at her. Wilkes was probably right about letting Doc out of the house, though.
Angie came from a long family of people who were overprotective. But the world seemed a frightening place. She never rode her bike alone. By the time she could date, she was afraid to go out with boys. Even her aunts always had her call when she left the campus, so they could time her drive home.
Wilkes pulled the car under the pergola attached to his house and walked around to open her door. She slid out just as he neared.
“You want something to eat or drink?” he offered.
She shook her head. “Can we wait out here until the sheriff calls?”
He motioned to an old swing in the corner of the porch. “If I turn off the yard light, we can watch the stars.” While she settled in on the swing, he went inside and grabbed an afghan.
When he sat down beside her, he opened his arms and she cuddled in next to him. It felt so right to be here with him. She felt so protected.
“Angie, I know I was a little early tonight, but why were you still at the museum? I thought we agreed I’d pick you up at the cabin?”
“I would have been there, but I got a call asking if I wouldn’t mind holding the museum open a few minutes later than usual. A man said he wanted to show his wife a picture of his relatives on the Pioneer Wall. I thought it odd, but since the volunteers offered to stay late with me, I agreed. We’d already waited over thirty minutes when you called me from the cabin phone.”
Wilkes was silent for a while, using one boot to rock them both in the swing. The slight tapping sound and the gentle swaying were like the steady beat of a heart, calming her.
“Maybe whoever called asking you to stay open late was the same person who ransacked your place. That way he’d know he had extra time, and he knew where you were.”
“But why? I’ve already given that agent, Dodson, my father’s ledger. He said it would be helpful in the investigation and that was why someone was stalking me. He said that I would be safe now.”
Wilkes tugged her to him. “Go over everything you brought with you. There must be something you have that is worth committing a crime to get.”
Resting her head on his chest, she began. “My mother’s quilts, most of which are old. One set of dishes plus coffee cups I’d collected over the years. My father’s fishing equipment almost too old to use. A pair of pearl earrings I got for graduation. A necklace that is a replica of an old Greek coin. My clothes. Books I’ve kept and loved. My mother’s sewing machine, a featherweight Singer.” She looked up at him. “I can sew, you know.”
“I never doubted it,” he answered with a funny smile as if she’d told a joke.
“Where is the sewing machine?” Wilkes asked.
“I saw it still in the corner of my bedroom.”
“Where is the necklace?”
“I left it in my desk at work. It sometimes gets in my way when I’m leaning over my desk doing detailed work.” She sighed. “That’s all except the food in the fridge. I didn’t have much to pack when I left my parents’ home. I tried to leave as soon as possible.” She couldn’t tell him why. He’d think her a coward, for running away from home, afraid of her own shadow. Afraid of what truth she might find if she looked too deeply.
Angie’s phone rang. “Hello,” she answered tentatively.
“Angela, it’s Dan Brigman.” The sheriff’s voice came through so loud she had no doubt Wilkes could also hear. “We found Polly. She’s safe. You guys all right?”
“We’re fine.” Angie let out a long breath of relief. “What happened to her?”
“How about I fill you in tomorrow? I’ve got my hands full right now. Tell Wilkes to keep close to you and stay armed until we catch whoever got into your place tonight.”
“Will do,” Wilkes answered. His head touched hers as he listened.
The sheriff rang off, and Angie smiled. “The girl’s safe. I’d love to know what happened.”
“I would say call the Franklin sisters, but they’d blow the story up so much, you wouldn’t recognize the truth. I’m guessing she just fell asleep in one of the deck chairs. We’ll hear all about it tomorrow.”
“What about the blood at my place?”
“From the looks of it, the burglar was an amateur. I’m guessing the blood was his.”
Wilkes rocked back and let the swing fly. “You know, all I was hoping for was a dinner with you alone. No excitement. Just you and me. At this rate, we’ll be into middle age before we go out to dinner alone.”
Angie raised her head. “Where’s Uncle Vern?”
“He’s sleeping over at the Kirkland bunkhouse. Carter Mayes, Jake Longbow and he are heading out at dawn to find an old rock corral, and from there they plan to search for Carter’s cave. They shouldn’t get into too much trouble, since they’re taking a four-wheeler. If I know Kirkland, he’ll make sure Jake has everything he needs to take care of all three old guys.”
“Wilkes,” Angie whispered. “We are alone. I’ll go pack that basket you’ve got stashed above the cabinets, and we can have a midnight dinner anywhere on this place. Alone. If only for a short time, I need to feel normal.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“No, I’m still keyed up. I’m tired of waiting to be alone with you.”
By the time she made their picnic, he’d spread blankets in the loft and set up hanging lights that made the barn look almost romantic.
“I decided if Doc Holliday loved it out here, we might give it a try.” He took the basket and climbed up far enough to lift it into the loft. Then he retraced his steps down the ladder and stood close behind her as she climbed up. His arms braced her on either side of the ladder. “I like how you feel,” he whispered as they reached the top. “I think I have since that first day in the museum when you attacked me.”
She had no idea how to answer. She simply ignored his words and tried not to notice the way his hand rested lightly on her waist as he guided her to her place on the blanket.
They used the picnic basket as their table to eat what he claimed was the best meal in the world. Cheese, crackers, grapes and cold slices of brisket she’d put between leftover breakfast biscuits. She’d even thought of paper cups and wine.
They talked and laughed as they ate. He told her of life out here where they seemed to be the only two people in the world. He loved the ranch and was proud of all he’d done in the years he’d been running the place. His love for history surprised her when she talked of the mus
eum.
Doc pestered them out of all the scraps, then curled up on the corner of the blanket when only wine was left.
Angie couldn’t stop smiling. This was the most romantic time in her life. Wilkes was unlike any man she’d ever met. Strong and good with a stubborn streak that made him believe he lived in the best place in the world.
She couldn’t stop touching him. First his arm as they talked. She liked stroking her fingers over the muscles just below the cotton of his shirt. Then she moved to his jaw, running featherlight fingertips over his whiskers.
When she laid her hand against his heart, he stopped pretending he didn’t notice her touch.
When the moon was high, Wilkes floated another blanket over them both, and they sat in the opening of the barn’s loft to watch the stars. Her hand rested on his back and his arm warmed her shoulders.
They might not be talking as much, but they were learning more and more about each other. She loved the feel of him near. The way he smelled of fresh air. The way he leaned his face against her curls and breathed deep as if taking her in.
Wilkes held her close and moved his hand along her side, almost touching her breast, almost brushing over her hip. “You’re so beautiful, Angie.”
“No, I’m not,” she whispered. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better. I’ve never been beautiful or sexy or any of that stuff. The few men I’ve dated said I was cute or nice, but never beautiful. My father always said I should be practical, never lift my head in the clouds. That kind of thing is not for girls like me.” She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop. “And don’t look at me like you did earlier in the car. Like you were longing for me or hungry to touch me.”
Wilkes laughed. “Shut up, Angie, and kiss me.”
She lifted her chin. “All right. I will, but not because you said it. I was already thinking about kissing you anyway.”
She leaned in to him and kissed him. A quick kiss just to prove that she was doing it because she wanted to and not because he told her to.
He waited, just staring at her, after she broke the kiss. “You’re wrong, Angie. You are beautiful, and I do want you.”
Shaking her head, she whispered, “Men like you aren’t interested in women like me.”
Putting his big hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her to him and began brushing the curls that had come loose from her bun long ago. “Men like me want a woman who is real. A gentle kind of beauty that no amount of makeup can cover or improve.” His thumb moved up and brushed the line of her jaw. “You’re wrong. There is something very sexy about you.”
His hand moved over her shoulder and along her arm. “I love touching you. I can feel every cell in your body react to my touch.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “When Lexie kissed me the other night, it was like I finally woke up. I couldn’t push her away fast enough. I knew she wasn’t what I wanted. If I kissed her every day for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t have made me feel like I felt when you kissed me.”
Angie had all she could take. She didn’t know if she believed this handsome man or not, but for once in her life she didn’t want to protect her heart. “Shut up, Wilkes, and kiss me again like you did the other night.”
And he did.
He kissed her long and tenderly in the cool shadows of the barn and again on the porch.
He kissed her like no one had ever kissed her. He kissed her better and deeper than she’d even imagined in her wildest dreams.
“It’s late,” he finally whispered. “I have to let you rest.”
“One more,” she answered, knowing one more would never be enough.
He leaned her against the door and pressed close. “One last kiss.”
But he lied. They made it halfway down the hallway to her room before he pulled her against him and lost control once more.
When she finally pulled away, he took her hand and walked her to her room. “If I touch you again, I won’t be able to leave and you need rest.” Then without a word, he handed her one of his shirts to sleep in and walked away.
Angie closed the door and leaned against it smiling. She knew he would have stayed with her if she’d invited him, but she needed to treasure tonight for a while. Her body could feel his hands still moving over her. He hadn’t tried to take off any of her clothes, but he’d let her know how much he loved touching her. She could feel his strong fingers moving over her hip with a need to pull her closer that shocked and surprised her. Boldly he’d pressed his hand over her breast and circled just below her waist as if promising her there would be a time and a place for more: bolder caresses, longer kisses, deeper loving.
He was waking her to desire. After the heat of his body, she was left cold when she stepped away. She wanted to return to his arms and never run again.
He hadn’t tried to talk her into anything. He’d simply shown her how he felt about her.
Standing behind the door, Angie knew she couldn’t move. If she did, she’d be running down the hallway to his room, begging him to hold her for just a little longer.
The words he’d whispered seemed to move through her, warming her blood. “I love touching you,” he’d whispered over and over. “I love the feel of you. I love the fire in your eyes when I do this.”
As she remembered every word, she could almost feel him pressing against her as his hands moved from her hair all the way down her back. He made no effort to hide his need for her, but he never pushed for more than she willingly gave.
And when he’d kissed her at the door, he’d whispered, “Thanks for letting me know perfection.”
He’d said it as if she’d given him a gift and not the other way around. She’d started to argue, and he’d closed his mouth over hers and given her one last long kiss. This time, he’d held her away. Only the kiss. Nothing more. As if one more brush of her body to his would have been more than he could bear.
More than he could resist.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Lauren
THE FIRST LIGHT of day broke slowly from the east, stealing away at the darkness where Polly and Lauren had hidden all night in the corner of Lauren’s father’s deck. They’d wrapped up in a sleeping bag after Dan had one of the firemen rebandage Polly’s arm and doctor her split lip.
“My body feels as if I fought a long battle during the night, and I’m now so battered and sore I can’t straighten,” Polly whispered with little more than her nose poking out from the zipped-up bag.
Lauren was too tired to open her eyes. “You’re all right, Polly. Just a few bruises. That’s what happens when you fight with a burglar in the dark.” Lauren giggled. “I bet he’s feeling worse this morning than you are. He’s got the imprint of a tire iron across his face.”
“You think I killed him? He could have bled to death.”
Lauren opened one eye and saw solid bruises along Polly’s jaw. “No. He was cussing too loud. And he still had enough brains to drive away before Pop got out there. You, on the other hand, don’t look so good.”
“Thanks for reminding me. I’m fine, by the way. It wasn’t my first fight.”
“Why’d you leave the party? Upset about Reid or just bored?”
Polly swore. “I’m not as messed up as you and Tim think. I swear. Not usually anyway. Last night, after seeing Reid again, maybe I was frustrated. He was so nice to me. When we met before, I thought he was so hot and last night I wondered why. Not my type.”
“Not mine, either.” Lauren giggled. “Reminds me of something I heard Miss Butterfield say about his dad once. She said if he could buy himself for what he was worth and sell himself for what he thought he was worth, he’d make a million.”
Polly groaned. “My head hurts too much to even think about that.”
Lauren sat up so she could see Polly’s face. “
I told you last night he’s not worth thinking about.”
“So if he’s a jerk, why did you go out with him? Tim told me Reid was your date to homecoming.”
“I don’t know.” Lauren was too tired to remember. “My brain is as foggy as yours.”
Compared to all Polly went through last night, a date with Reid seemed pretty minor. “Tell me again what happened last night after you left the party.”
“I already told your dad twice.”
“Then tell me,” Tim said as he bounced onto the deck. “You were being patched up by some big fireman before I knew you’d been found. The sheriff told me to go home before he booked me for trespassing.”
Lauren looked at Tim. “What are you doing here? Dad’s right. Don’t you have a home?”
Tim glared at her. “Anybody ever tell you that you sound just like your old man? I woke up early and decided to come over to check on both of you. I didn’t know when you two would be up, but I wanted to be here when you woke. I’ve got a few questions. Like why are you two sleeping on the deck, for one?”
Polly sat up. The moment she moved her arm, she winced in pain.
Lauren gave up on any attempt at sleep. “I’m here because Polly couldn’t sleep in her bed. I had her curl up there while I called Pop. It’s got blood all over it and we were too tired to try to find sheets.”
Tim sat down between their chairs. “Okay, why was she bleeding?”
“The guy who tried to kidnap her twisted her arm and pulled out several stitches. The fireman butterflied them together but it took him a while to stop her nose from dripping red. We couldn’t both fit on the couch, so we collected the sleeping bags and came out here so we couldn’t hear Pop talking on the phone. Evidently he was up most of the night.”
Tim looked at Polly. “Hanging out with you is like visiting the set of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Blood seems to be everywhere.”
“Last night I was starting to think I was in a horror movie. You’re not going to believe what happened.” Polly showed him her new bandage and her split lip. He could see the bruises without any help.
