Imminent Danger

by Carla Cassidy

“What about Jesse? How long have you known him?” Allison knew she was foolish to ask questions about a man who was merely a temporary fixture in her life. But with the memory of his kiss on her lips, she found herself wanting to know him from another’s perspective.

  “Jesse and I went through school together.”

  “Is he nice looking?” Allison felt her cheeks warming with a blush.

  Shelly laughed. “Yeah, Jesse is handsome, although personally, I like blond men. He was a real ladies’ man in high school before the accident. His whole personality changed after that.”

  “The accident?” Allison leaned forward.

  “The car accident. Hasn’t he told you about it?”

  “Maybe…I just don’t remember,” Allison hedged.

  “If he told you, I think you definitely would have remembered. It was pretty traumatic.”

  “You tell me.” Allison forced a small smile. “You know how reticent men can be when it comes to sharing little pieces of themselves.”

  “We were juniors in high school and Susan Maxwell had a big party. All the popular kids were invited. I wasn’t, but I heard about the accident the next day at school. Jesse and Paul went to the party, and while they were driving home the weather got really nasty.”

  “Paul?” Allison interrupted her.

  “Yeah, Paul Burke. He and Jesse were best friends. Paul was sort of the golden boy at school. He was good-looking, played varsity football and there was talk about big scholarships coming his way.”

  “And there was an accident as they were driving home from the party,” Allison said, stating the obvious.

  “Yeah, a bad one. They hit a tree. Jesse wasn’t seriously hurt, but Paul went through the windshield. I guess the glass cut up his face pretty badly and he wound up blind.”

  Blind. Suddenly Allison realized what had prompted Jesse’s curiosity about what it was like to live in perpetual darkness. At the time he’d asked, a shiver of pleasure had washed through her. She’d thought he’d wanted to know what her world was like. But it hadn’t been about her at all. “What happened afterward?” she asked.

  “Paul was in the hospital for a while, then his family moved to Grange City, a little town about thirty miles from here.”

  “And what about Jesse?”

  “Jesse changed after that night. It wasn’t real obvious, but rather subtle. He was still friendly, still nice, but there was an aloofness about him, a remoteness that had never been there before.”

  “What about him and Paul?”

  “Jesse never mentioned Paul’s name again, and as far as anyone knows, they never got in touch after Paul moved. I think maybe Jesse couldn’t handle Paul’s blindness.” She laughed self- consciously. “But I guess whatever hang-up he had about it, he got over it when he met you.”

  Maybe, Allison thought. But more likely, Jesse’s agreement to protect her, his kindness, maybe even his kiss, were probably a result of him trying to deal with a trauma that hadn’t been effectively dealt with in his past.

  If she could see, if she was certain she could survive without help, she’d run now. She’d run away from the kiss that had awakened emotions inside her, emotions both thrilling and frightening.

  She’d run away from the man who in the space of two single days had managed to make her realize the loneliness of the life she’d left behind.

  And it was frighteningly impossible to guess what the future might hold for her.

  She only knew one thing for certain. Somehow she would never be the same after her time spent with Sheriff Jesse Wilder in Mustang, Montana.

  That damned kiss. Jesse sat at his desk, sipping coffee, but tasting Cecilia’s sweet mouth. It was a kiss that never should have happened. He wasn’t sure at this moment exactly how it had happened. One minute he’d been sitting in the dark in the closet, and the next he’d been kissing her.

  Scowling, unsure whom he was more irritated with—Cecilia or himself—he focused his attention on the reports in front of him.

  Three women… On the surface they were all apparently victims of Casanova. Jesse had gone to high school with all three of them, considered them friends and yet had no idea how to catch the man who had harmed them.

  He hadn’t been able to keep these women safe, and yet fate had handed him a blind woman with a gang of dirty cops after her. Could life get any more ironic?

  He looked up as Vic entered the station carrying his lunch order along with Jesse’s from the nearby café. He opened the foam container that held Jesse’s hamburger and fries, then opened the second container to reveal a mountain of mashed potatoes smothered in creamy gravy and topped with a thick slab of country fried steak.

  “Still on that diet, I see,” he teased the big deputy.

  Vic’s face flushed a slight pink. “Go ahead, make fun. I admit it, I have no willpower, okay?” The edge in his voice surprised Jesse. Vic was always, unfailingly good-humored.

  “I was just teasing you a little, Vic. What’s up?”

  Vic’s flush deepened. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” He sat down in the chair across from Jesse’s, a troubled frown furrowing his broad forehead. “And what’s up is that I’m just sick about Maggie and what happened to her.”

  “We all are, Vic.”

  He nodded and they ate for a few minutes in silence.

  “You know I dated her in high school,” Vic said suddenly.

  “Yeah, now that you mention it, I seem to remember the two of you dating for a while.”

  Vic nodded, his frown still cutting deeply into his brow. “She’s always been real nice to me. It just kills me to think of her being hurt like that.”

  “You dated Kathy, too,” Jesse said, and picked up the file on the first victim.

  Vic nodded. “We were seniors. We only went out once. I also went out with Krista.” Vic smiled sheepishly. “I think I dated every girl in the high school for at least one date.” His smile widened. “At least you don’t have to worry about dating ever again. Cecilia is real pretty and seems really nice. I just don’t understand why you never told me about her before.” There was a slight touch of hurt in the big man’s voice.

  Jesse frowned thoughtfully. He knew he’d be a fool to trust anyone, but between Cecilia and Casanova, he needed help. And if he couldn’t trust Vic, a childhood friend and his deputy, who could he trust? “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” he began, “but there might come a time in the next week or two that I need you to pull some extra hours. Between Cecilia and Casanova, I’ve got to make certain both bases are covered.” He then went on to explain to Vic the real circumstances that had brought Cecilia to Mustang.

  “So, you and her…you’re not getting married?” Vic asked when Jesse had finished.

  Jesse shook his head. “We hardly know each other. She’s just here for her own safety and we figured it would be easier to explain her presence if we pretended to be involved.”

  “Poor pretty lady,” Vic said softly.

  “Yeah, she’s had a rough time.” He eyed his deputy sternly. “But you realize what I just told you about her is strictly confidential.”

  “’Course I do, Jesse. You know I’m not one to gossip none.”

  “And that’s why I took you into my confidence,” Jesse returned.

  Vic nodded, obviously pleased by Jesse’s show of trust, and again the two men resumed eating their lunches. As Jesse ate, he mentally chewed over the three cases.

  Normally, in a case such as this, it is important to tie the victims together, to see at which places their lives meshed in order to find a perpetrator who would know all three.

  In a town the size of Mustang, there were too many points where the women’s lives would touch. They would have had their hair done at the same beauty shop, mailed packages at the same post office, bought groceries at the same store, had drinks at the same bar. And most likely, as single women, they had at one time or another all dated the same men.

  “Wasn’t Maggie dating some guy befo
re this mess?” Jesse asked suddenly.

  Vic nodded and paused a moment to swallow a mouthful of potatoes. “She was dating Burt Landry, a cowboy working for Cameron Gallagher, but I heard they quit seeing each other a couple of weeks ago.”

  Jesse stood and tossed his foam container into the nearby garbage can. “Maybe I should take a ride out to the Gallagher place and have a little chat with Landry, see what his alibis are for the nights in question.”

  Vic’s eyes lit up. “You think he might be involved?”

  Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know, Vic. Right now we’re grasping at straws.” He looked at his watch. “I should be back in a couple of hours. Give Sam a call and have him meet us here at four o’clock.”

  Minutes later, as Jesse left Mustang, he rolled down the window of his car to allow in the scents of late summer. Outside of the small town, the air was redolent with the smell of pastures and wildflowers, and somehow the scent reminded him of Cecilia. She always smelled of sweet, blooming flowers.

  Damn that kiss. Damn her for molding herself so intimately against his body. Damn her for making him want her when they both knew there would never be anything long-term between them.

  The last thing Jesse needed was a weeklong affair with a blind woman who would eventually get her sight back and return to her full, rich life in another state.

  Jesse had managed to remain blissfully uninvolved with any woman for a very long time. When he’d become sheriff, he’d recognized the danger of dating any of the local women. He did not want his personal life picked and prodded, gossiped and chattered about among the people he served.

  It was enough that he knew people were talking about him and Cecilia and their upcoming wedding. Drat Millicent Creighton. Talking to her was sort of like dodging an oncoming train. Somehow she’d managed to maneuver Cecilia and Jesse into setting a wedding date when no wedding was intended.

  He sighed as he pulled onto the Gallagher property. He’d face that particular mess when it happened. Despite his reluctance to the contrary, he’d play the role of brokenhearted lover for the people of Mustang when Cecilia left to return to her life.

  He got out of his car, steadfastly shoving thoughts of Cecilia Webster aside. He had to stop thinking about her. He had more important things to focus on besides his desire for a woman who would be nothing but a distant memory within two more weeks or so.

  It was after five when Jesse wearily walked up the steps to his porch. As he entered the house, he was surprised to smell something delicious in the air, something that smelled like roast.

  Shelly must have cooked. He’d have to tell her that he didn’t expect her to fix his evening meals while she was spending time here with Cecilia.

  He walked through the living room and into the kitchen, surprised to see Shelly seated at the table and Cecilia standing next to the stove, stirring a saucepan of corn.

  “Jesse?” Cecilia placed the spoon she’d been using on the counter and danced toward him.

  Her face was glowing with a smile he’d not seen before. It lit her from within, removing the dark shadows of turmoil from her eyes and added a dash of bewitching color to her cheeks.

  “I cooked.” The two words sparkled in the air, shimmering in the wake of her enormous pride. “Shelly didn’t help at all.”

  Jesse glanced at Shelly, who nodded her agreement. “She did it all, and I’m getting out of here,” Shelly said, heading for the doorway. “Same time tomorrow, Jesse?”

  He nodded absently and she gave a small wave, then disappeared from the kitchen.

  “I did the entire meal all by myself.”

  For a moment Jesse didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Unexpected emotion reached out to clutch at him, making him momentarily speechless.

  She looked so achingly beautiful, and the simplicity of her accomplishment and her pride therein touched him in places he’d never been touched before.

  “Jesse?” Her brow creased with worry. “Is everything okay?”

  “What could be wrong?” he replied. “Dinner smells wonderful.”

  “I cooked a roast and made a salad and heated up corn. I couldn’t peel potatoes—I hope you don’t mind doing without them.”

  “Potatoes. Who needs potatoes? I don’t even like them that much,” Jesse found himself saying.

  Her brow smoothed and the beatific smile once again took reign over her features. “Good. Why don’t you sit down and relax and I’ll get the food on the table.”

  Jesse nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see his nonverbal reply. “You want me to help?”

  “No. I’d really like to do this on my own.”

  “Okay,” he agreed, although a bit dubious as to how she would manage the serving process. He took his usual seat at the table and watched her work.

  She worked methodically, her features set in deep concentration as she lifted the roast from the cooking pot and placed it on a serving platter. Carefully, easily maneuvering the kitchen space, she placed the platter on the table, then returned to the stove for the corn.

  Within minutes she had everything on the table and she eased down in the chair opposite Jesse’s, a smile of pride once again lighting her face.

  “Does everything look all right?” she asked.

  “It looks great.” It was the truth. The roast looked juicy and cooked to perfection, the salad crisp and colorful with pieces of tomato and baby carrots, but Jesse was having difficulty focusing on the food.

  Cecilia captured his full attention. Since the time she’d arrived, he’d seen her belligerent, filled with fear, angry and grieving. But until this moment, he’d never seen her with the light of sheer happiness shining from her eyes, her lips curved into a smile of pride and delight.

  She was both beautiful and bewitching, and without warning his mouth tingled with the memory of the kiss they had shared.

  He focused on the plate in front of him, realizing he had to keep tight control over his emotions. If he didn’t manage to remain both physically and emotionally untouched by her, he wouldn’t have to pretend to have a broken heart when she finally left his home, his life.

  Chapter 7

  Allison had decided not to ask Jesse about Paul. She knew it was none of her business and that Jesse would probably only get angry with Shelly for talking too much about his personal life. And Allison had grown quite fond of Shelly.

  For the past five days, Shelly had been at the house when Allison awoke. The two women had spent each day visiting with each other. Thankfully Shelly loved to talk.

  She chatted about Mustang and the colorful characters that resided here, her lack of a love life, her crush on Sam Black, and her family, which included two brothers and two sisters.

  Shelly didn’t seem to notice that Allison shared very little of her own life, but Allison felt the stress of having to be careful of every word she spoke. She never forgot that she was playing a role, the role of Jesse’s loving fiancée.

  Initially, Shelly’s company reminded Allison of the times she’d spent with her sister. She and Alicia had often filled hours and hours with idle chat about fashion, men and marriage. Thoughts of Alicia and her husband brought with them a bittersweet pain.

  It was stress that filled her as she left her bedroom early on Saturday morning and stumbled into the kitchen.

  She’d awakened as always, with hope that when she opened her eyes, she would see the sun streaming through the window, see the room where she’d been sleeping for five nights. But the hope had lasted only as long as it took for her to open her eyes.

  The moment she entered the kitchen, she knew it wasn’t Shelly making coffee. “Jesse?”

  “Yeah. How did you know it was me and not Shelly?” he asked.

  “You smell different.” She didn’t elaborate, didn’t want him to know that she found his clean, masculine scent wonderfully distinctive and enticing.

  She sank down at the table. “Why are you home today? Did you break the Casanova case?”

  “Not hard
ly. A cup of coffee is in front of you.” He sat down across from her. “The Casanova case is going absolutely nowhere. No clues, no leads, nothing.” His frustration was evident in his tone. “Oh, I almost forgot, I have a present for you.”

  “A present?” Allison’s heart did a curious, wild leap. He’d bought her a present?

  “Yeah, it’s from Vic,” he replied.

  A wave of disappointment swept through her, instantly producing a renewed burst of irritation. Of course Jesse wouldn’t have bought her a present. Why would he? She was nothing but an assignment to him.

  He scooted back from the table and walked across the room. He returned a moment later and took his seat once again. “Hold out your hand,” he instructed.

  She did as he requested and a flash of awareness swept through her as he placed one of his hands beneath hers and with his other hand placed an object in her palm. He withdrew his hands immediately, taking the wave of heat with him.

  Allison danced her fingers across the surface of the object. She knew it was soap, could smell the distinct minty scent she now realized she’d smelled both times she’d been around Vic. “It’s a fish,” she announced with delight as her mind worked to produce the image she held in her hand.

  “Yeah. Vic carves bars of soap into different shapes. He’s not bad at it, either. He mostly sells them at the county fair and at craft shows.”

  “How nice of him to think of me,” she said, touched by the big deputy’s thoughtfulness. She pushed the soap figure aside and grabbed her coffee cup once again, her earlier irritation returning as she thought of another day of being cooped up in the house.

  “So, you think you might solve the Casanova case by staying home and baby-sitting me?” She knew her tone was peevish, but she couldn’t help it.

  “No, I don’t think I’ll solve it by baby-sitting you, but I did think perhaps a day off might give me some distance and objectivity.” His tone was irritatingly patient.

  He had been annoyingly polite to her since the night they’d shared the kiss. Actually, they’d had little time together alone since that night. Jesse had gone to work at the crack of dawn each morning and hadn’t returned to the house until after eight each evening.