The Good, The Bad and The Ghostly ((Paranromal Western Romance))

by Keta Diablo

  The crisp flavor of the apple he’d just eaten played over her taste buds. Pleasure overruled the sound logic of keeping him at a distance. Instead, she gave into the tempestuous assault to her senses and slid her arms around his neck. Minutes passed. The hunger inside her growing until she couldn’t catch her breath.

  He tore his mouth from hers, and she gasped for air. "Please, sweetheart, I’m not a patient man, especially when I’ve waited so long for you. I need—"

  "Don’t say it," she whispered and lowered her head to avoid eye contact. She’d tempted him, let him think if he asked for more, she’d willingly give him whatever he wanted.

  Realizing how much she already cared for him, she rebelled against the likelihood of losing her heart to another man. More than once, she’d fallen into the trap of believing a man would love her no matter what.

  Every time, she paid with a broken heart. This time, she needed to give him a day or two to come to terms with the true nature of her abilities. Once he saw her in action, he’d change. The desire he felt would wilt until he had no feeling for her at all.

  "I’m sorry, but we need to take this slow." She lowered her hands and pressed them against his chest. "Now, you should tend to your horses."

  Konnor studied her for a long moment before he slowly released his grip. "Make yourself at home. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve finished my nightly chores."

  She nodded, and he turned for the door with a sigh.

  The light click of the latch falling into place felt like a shot through her heart. She’d come here determined to do her job and leave. However, Konnor had blindsided her with his charm. She’d allowed her attraction for him to get out of control and broken her new rule of not becoming involved with a client.

  Given her track record, she had to step back or find herself walking away with more shattered dreams. Her only consolation would be that she’d helped a lost spirit find its way home and completed her job.

  Now, if she could only figure out a way to keep her heart safe when everything inside her wanted to give in to Konnor’s demands?

  Chapter Three

  The sun peeking over the horizon filled the eastern sky with colors of red, purple, and orange. Konnor walked back to the house, wondering what he should fix for breakfast. Last night, he’d returned to find his guest had retired to her room. Her bedroom door closed, he’d spent the evening alone with his unrequited desires.

  Something told him, today would be hard on both of them. Him because he’d have to behave himself and give her time to adjust to the idea of settling down with him. On the other hand, she had to locate a ghost or at least try to find one.

  He strolled across the back porch and walked into the kitchen. His gaze immediately fell on Ruth standing at the stove. The scent of the coffee he’d made before heading outside filled the room and competed with a sweet fragrance. He sniffed the air and closed the door. Baked apples. His mouth watered for a taste.

  "Good morning." Ruth grabbed a towel and wiped her hands. "I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to make apple muffins for breakfast along with some eggs and sausage."

  "Sounds perfect to me but you didn’t need to go to the trouble. I planned to start cooking once I made sure everything in the barn was as it should be."

  She grinned. "Well, now all you have to do is take off your hat and coat and sit down."

  The table was already set. The coffee pot stood on a hot pad next to the place he’d occupied the night before. "Can I do anything to help?"

  "No, I might travel and stay in hotels, but I still know my way around a kitchen." She waved him to his seat and turned to the counter.

  Fighting the urge to give her a good-morning kiss, he shifted on his feet but didn’t make any progress in either direction. Her gentle curves and petite form reminded him how much he enjoyed holding her, kissing her, having her close.

  Today, she had on the same blue, cotton dress. The tight fit of her top hugged her back and created a V above her hips to allow room for the waves of the material, which formed the skirt’s bustle. His palm itched to circle her narrow waist and draw her close. Perhaps even convince her, they belonged together.

  Lost in the fantasy, he wasn’t prepared when she suddenly swirled toward him with a platter full of food. Not more than two steps from her, she plowed straight into his chest. Grabbing for her shoulders, he juggled her in his arms. Their feet danced around each other while she managed to keep most of the eggs and sausage from landing on the floor.

  "Dang it, Konnor, what were you doing standing in my way?" she grumbled and frowned at him.

  "I am sorry, I—"

  "Never mind." She pressed the edge of the platter deeper into his stomach. "Take this while I clean up the mess."

  Not wanting to rile her any further, he relieved her of the tray and walked to the table. A mound of eggs still sat on one side with a stack of sausages on the other. Not expecting much carnage on the floor, he turned and almost swallowed his tongue.

  Right in front of him like a mare waving her tail at a stallion, Ruth stood with her bustle bobbing back and forth. Her head around her knees, she worked to pluck stray pieces of food from the wood flooring. Need rushed through him, awakening a primal desire to claim her as his. Blood, streaming southward, roared in his ears. He wobbled on his feet, set down the tray on the table and searched for his chair. Finally locating it, he pulled it from under the table and sank onto the hard surface.

  With his mind in a place where no honorable man’s should be with any unattached woman, he fought his basic urges and poured himself a cup of steaming hot coffee.

  After drawing in a few deep breaths, he muttered, "Sweetheart, why don’t you just let that go until after we eat? Then I’ll clean it up."

  "I got it." She strolled toward the table and sat in her chair. "I hope I didn’t stain your coat."

  He glanced down and realized for the first time he still had on his hat and coat. Standing, he walked to the back door and placed them on the hooks on the wall. "Sorry about that, I guess you distracted me."

  "It’s probably my fault. I threw off your routine." She offered him his plate. The portions were more than he normally ate but he wouldn’t complain.

  Waiting until after she served herself, he bowed his head, said grace, and then concentrated solely on eating. The sound of her breathing distracted him. He glanced in her direction and spoke without thinking. "How did you sleep?"

  "Like a log. Thank you." She toyed with her eggs. "Sorry, I didn’t stay awake long enough to wish you a good night. After doing a preliminary survey of the house, I went straight to bed."

  She smiled. "But I have to say I haven’t sensed any malevolent spirits. I’m wondering if your ghost was picking up on your negative emotions for Wilhelmina and wanted to rush things along."

  He blinked, surprised by the comment. "How can a ghost know what I’m feeling?"

  With a slight tilt of her head, she studied him. "You have to remember they once lived on earth too. They had feelings and can pick up strong emotions from the residents of the house."

  "Are you telling me this spook ran off Wilhelmina because I was taking too long to tell her to leave?" Konnor refused to believe this whole ghost thing was that easy. Why hadn’t the spook ever shown up before now?

  "I can’t know for certain what exactly motivated the ghost to show up. I’m just fishing for possibilities." Ruth shifted back in her chair and glanced around. "Darn, I forgot the muffins."

  Konnor laid a hand over hers and kept her from rising. "I’ll get them."

  She stared at his hand and licked her lips. The small gesture had him wondering as to her thoughts. Did she enjoy his touch? Did she want more or was she trying to come up with a way to tell him to back off?

  Standing, he retrieved the basket, set it on the table, and returned to his chair. The moment his butt hit the surface he spoke, "Ruth—"

  "Konnor—"

  Unwilling to talk over her, he waved his hand for her
to continue. "Go on."

  "I merely wanted to say that although I’m honored by your interest in me, my company has a code of ethics, and I need for us to keep this completely professional." She kept her head lowered and talked to her plate until she finished. Her hazel eyes when she glanced up appeared darker, the deep emerald green reflecting her emotional conflict.

  "What if I don’t care? If you stay here with me, you won’t need to work for them anymore." He noted the way her hand fluttered up to her neck and how she rubbed the exposed skin in the V of her top.

  "I’m, huh, afraid you’re not familiar with the true nature of what I do. I—"

  A loud crashing noise erupted from the living room.

  "What the hell was that?" Bolting to his feet, he caught her shoulder and squeezed. "Stay here. I’ll be right back."

  Not bothering to wait, he hurried out of the kitchen and scanned the dining room, then the adjacent living area. Nothing appeared out of order. He walked into the entranceway and glanced up the stairs. What was going on?

  "I believe this is what we heard." Ruth’s voice filtered in from the dining area.

  Walking back the way he’d came, he noticed her standing between the china cabinet and the formal dining table. In her hands, she had a large silver platter that belonged to his grandparents. "Where did you find that?"

  She smiled and pointed to the hardwood floor. "I believe your ghost has decided it’s ready to communicate with us."

  * * *

  Ruth glanced around trying to determine where the tray had resided before it landed on the floor. "Can you give the history of this piece?"

  Not getting an immediate response, she turned and noticed Konnor standing behind the couch. His hand in a death grip on the back, his knuckles white, his mouth was moving, but no words were coming out.

  Setting the platter on the table, she rushed to him. "Calm down. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Your ghost is simply trying to make contact."

  He swallowed and nodded. "And that’s a good thing, right?"

  "Yes. The sooner we figure out what it wants, the sooner your life will get back to normal." She slid an arm around his waist and guided him over to the wingback chair. "Here, sit a moment while I see if I can communicate with your ghost."

  He lowered himself to the soft surface and then shifted his grip to capture her hand. "Wait a second, is this safe?"

  She grinned. "It’s the job your brother hired me to do. Now, stay here."

  With a quick twist of her wrist, she broke his hold and hurried across the room to the dining table. A brush of cold air hit her right arm. She closed her eyes and whispered, "I am so excited to meet you. Can you please give me your name?"

  Ruth cleared her mind of all thoughts. Slowly, an impression formed in her head of a picture of a short woman with light brown hair, wearing a simple farm dress.

  Tell him she was no good for him. A soft female voice whispered in Ruth’s ear. I had to get rid of her.

  Hoping to reassure the spirit, Ruth used a calm encouraging tone. "Konnor is glad that you did. He’d planned not to marry her and was going to tell her so at the end of her visit."

  Smart boy, but he still needs....

  The chilly touch on her arm eased. Immediately, Ruth sensed the ghost moving out of range. "Wait, let me help you."

  Oh, yes, your brother says hello.

  Not willing to comment on that particular subject, she searched the area and opened her senses to catch anything that might be present around her. Naturally, the spirit had disappeared.

  Blinking open her eyes, she shifted her focus to the living room. The chair where she’d left Konnor, sat empty. Where did he go? "Konnor?"

  He stepped in from the hallway carrying her coat and rushed toward her. "Here, you better put this on, you’re shivering. That ghost or whoever you were talking to must have sapped you of all your body heat."

  Without giving her a chance to argue, he wrapped the leather around her shoulders and bundled her up in his arms. He held her tight against his chest and whispered in her ear. "Is it gone now?"

  "Yes, and I suspect it might be someone you know." She wriggled in his embrace. Although she appreciated his added warmth to ward off the chill a ghost could cause, being this close to him tore down the barrier she’d hoped to erect between them. "Why don’t we head over to the couch and talk about it?"

  Before she managed to take a step back, he swept her up in his arm and carried her across the room.

  "Konnor, I can walk," she grumbled and glared at him. "I’m not a sack of potatoes you have to throw over your shoulder whenever you want me to move from one location to another."

  Sitting on the couch, he held her in his lap and grinned. "No, you’re soft and cuddly, and so much fun to have in my arms."

  She freed her hands from the interior of her coat and shoved at his chest. "Have you already forgotten what I told you earlier? We need to keep our distance and maintain a strictly professional relationship."

  "That’s impossible." He pulled her close and rubbed his nose against hers. The tantalizing proximity of his mouth to hers tested her resolve to stay away from him. "Why?"

  He nibbled at her lips, teasing her with butterfly kisses. "Because I want you too much."

  The argument she’d devised last night fluttered through her thoughts, giving her an unclear picture as to why she should fight him. "But we need time to get to know each other."

  He lifted his head a fraction of an inch, and his dark eyes zeroed in on hers. "That’s what we’re doing right now. I want to memorize the taste of your lips on mine."

  The last few words were spoken against her mouth. Unable to resist, she sighed, and he covered her mouth with his. Again, he played, the soft pressure tender and sweet one moment, then turning demanding and urgent the next. Passion ignited inside her. The rapid beat of her heart drummed in her ears. She struggled to remember where she was.

  Konnor’s lips shifted from hers. "Damn. That boy has the worst timing ever."

  The loud knocking noise from the other room registered.

  "Who...."

  Lifting her off his lap, Konnor set her beside him and rose. "That’s Henry. He helps me out around the place. We usually have a cup of coffee together before the day starts."

  The back door squeaked open.

  "Hey, Konnor, what smells so good?" The male voice, coming from inside the kitchen, had Konnor pausing by the end of the couch.

  "Apple muffins, but keep your paws off them until I get in there." He held out a hand to her. "Do you want to go in and meet Henry? Or wait until later?"

  She set her palm against his and shrugged off her coat. "I guess now is as good as time as any. And maybe, we can also finish our breakfast."

  "And have a muffin before Henry eats them all." Konnor tugged her to her feet and directed her to the door.

  "Or we’re interrupted by your ghost."

  Chapter Four

  "I can help you." Ruth walked along the upstairs hallway to the master bedroom. She’d spent the last two days trying to find ways to talk to the residing ghost. Unfortunately, nothing had happened.

  Frustrated, she paused in the doorway of Konnor’s room and noted the furnishings. A large bed sat against the eastern wall, meaning he rose with the sun, robust and ready to face the day. A big wooden chest was positioned against the wood footboard and appeared to be where he stored his clothes. A table next to the door held a lantern along with a bowl and pitcher. Other than a chair in one corner, nothing else occupied the space.

  The thick blue curtains over the sole window helped hold in the heat. A few matching swatches in the wedding ring quilt spread over the bed tied the two items together. Interested in the pattern, Ruth stepped further into the room and ran her hand over the soft cotton fabric. A sizzle of longing brushed over her fingertips.

  Still searching for a connection with the ghost, she moved closer until her legs hit the side. Again, she underwent a blurred sensation of desire as if s
he was picking up entrenched excitement in the cloth.

  Excited by the possibility of finally finding a clue to the resident ghost’s identity, she crawled into the center and rolled over onto her back. With her eyes closed, she opened her senses and allowed her mind to flow. Little snippets of passion filtered across her thoughts. She worked to identify each and relaxed into the gentle pleasure of love, which flowed comfortably to compassion. Then, as if building steam, more sentiments started to bombard her; excitement, lust, heartache, sorrow.

  Unprepared for the sudden surge of feelings, Ruth blinked open her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Speaking to the room at large, she voiced her thoughts. "This is not merely a moment in time. This bed, this quilt reflects a lifetime of emotions. You had a wonderful life. Why do you feel the need to stick around here?"

  Again, she dropped her eyelids, hoping for a thought or image to guide her in her quest to discover the spirit’s identity. A young man with dark hair appeared in her head with the misty quality of a seductive dream. His broad shoulders and height reminded her of Konnor. A name brushed through her thoughts.

  "Patrick," she whispered. A translucent presence materialized by the side of the bed between her feet where they were hanging off the edge.

  A rich male voice answered with a strong Irish brogue, "Oh, my heart, no man on earth could be as lucky as I."

  Ruth understood the words only because her grandfather had the same thick accent. She studied the man’s clothing. The rough fabric of his shirt and the simple cut of his jacket told her he had to have lived at least a hundred years ago.

  Searching for other clues to his identity, she didn’t see him move. Warmth spread over her ankles, and Patrick set his large hands over her calves. Instantly, she threw away the idea of this being the resident spirit.

  Her mind searched for another answer. An unrelenting passion suddenly swept through the center of her, sending her heart racing and causing her nerve endings to tingle. Was the ghost she met earlier sharing her memories from her past? Could this be her lover, husband?