After the Midnight Hour

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  She shook her head, inadvertently rubbing her nose against his shirtfront. “It’s a curse, Jared. It’s not meant to be broken. Because I wanted to leave the house that night, because I wanted to leave him, he intended to make sure I never could.”

  “But it still can’t go on forever,” Jared grumbled. “You said Maya pleaded with her gods to save you. If they were merciful enough to do so, they must have had something in mind that would eventually free you. We just have to find out what it is and break this curse or spell or whatever you want to call it.”

  Rachel inhaled the warm scent of his skin. “You are a very stubborn man.”

  “Damn straight.” Keeping one arm around her, he guided her to the couch. “Stretch out, relax.” Once he was assured she was comfortable, he walked over to his collection player and rummaged through his CDs until he found what he wanted.

  “I love that you can have music all the time,” she said when the rich tones of Faith Hill floated through the air.

  He flopped back down next to her. “There’s an even better reason for having music all the time. It’s great for making out,” he growled.

  “What is mak—?” Her question was cut off by his mouth pressing against hers. A dazed part of her brain pointed out that she should have known Jared preferred to show her instead of explaining.

  She enjoyed the showing part. And apparently, so did her body. She could feel it warm and soften under his roaming touch. He fingered the tiny covered buttons at the front of her bodice.

  “You women must have been a real challenge to men back then,” he teased.

  “I think you would have handled any challenge you faced if you lived in my time,” she told him with a hint of a smile.

  He brushed aside a stray lock of hair and kissed the curve of her ear. She shivered under his touch.

  He shifted on the couch, rolling over with her now lying on top of him. He shifted her until she sat squarely in his lap. He laughed at the stunned look on her face.

  “You are teasing me!”

  “No, I’m just showing you what it’s like if you’re in charge.” He settled her more firmly, and knew the exact second she became aware of his arousal nudging her bottom. There was no missing the bright flush of color blooming on her cheeks. But he didn’t care. Even with their clothes on she felt so damn good against him.

  “You are a very wicked man.” It was clear she sensed what he was thinking.

  “Then you’ll just have to reform me.” He grinned, showing her that wicked side.

  “I do not think you want to be reformed.” Even blushing hotly, she didn’t move from her position.

  “I might. If you were the one doing the reforming.”

  “Except if I tried to reform you, you would be too occupied trying to do the opposite to me.” She rested her hands against the middle of his chest.

  “Just giving you a taste of the modern man, darlin’.” He picked up one of her hands and brought it to his lips. He drew one of her fingers into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

  Rachel’s eyes darkened. As if an invisible thread pulled her, she leaned down until her lips were close to his. Her kiss was tentative, as it had been before, but there was an eagerness that touched something deep inside him.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, as his hands tracked her middle.

  “Jared, you really need to watch your language,” she scolded.

  He sat up. “I can’t believe I missed this before. What is this you’re wearing? Some kind of cage? And then there’s this thing back here.” He touched her bustle. “Talk about a torture device.”

  Rachel blushed and batted at his exploring hands. “Ladies don’t speak of such things to gentlemen,” she chided primly.

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m no gentleman. What is this thing?” He grabbed for her again, but she scooted across the couch, out of his reach. It wasn’t easy with her full skirt and petticoats hampering her movements.

  “It’s personal.” She could feel her cheeks heat up further. She could tell he wasn’t going to back down. She looked at her lap as she whispered an explanation.

  “What?” He leaned forward.

  “It’s my corset,” she said a little louder. She glanced up, with her chin held high. “It’s what ladies wear—corsets and bustles. It’s all the fashion.”

  “Not these days, they aren’t.” He frowned as he rested a hand against her waist. “How do you breathe wearing this thing?” He realized his mistake the moment he said it. “I guess more like how did you breathe in this thing? This isn’t a corset, it’s a cage.”

  She had to smile at his discomfort, even if his interest in her clothing was much more personal than men in her time period had ever displayed. Proper etiquette dictated that gentlemen didn’t show an interest in what a lady wore under her dress. All Caleb cared was that she showed a proper lady’s figure, and that meant a suitable corset even if the one he wanted her to wear was more structured than the new ones that had come out then. By evening, she always had marks etched in her flesh from the constricting garment.

  “We weren’t expected to breathe. We were just meant to give the appearance of a proper lady,” she explained.

  “It feels as if it’s made out of sticks.” He was still frowning. “Like some kind of torturous cage.”

  “They used to be made from whalebone,” Rachel explained. “Fashion dictated that the smaller the waist, the prettier the woman.”

  He shook his head at such an idea. “There must have been a lot of fainting women back then, because I don’t see how a person could breathe wearing this thing. I don’t know how you can even sit comfortably.”

  She chuckled. “Breathing wasn’t always easy. Especially if the laces were pulled too tight. But we managed.”

  He looked off in the distance, his brow furrowed in thought. “Even now I don’t see how it can be good for you,” he muttered.

  “You are doing it again.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Showing what a kind heart you have.” She smiled.

  Jared grinned again. “Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t know anyone at the police station. They’d laugh themselves hoarse if you said that. I told you, Rachel. I’m the bad ass around there.” He took her hand and idly played with her fingers.

  Rachel opened her mouth to argue with him, but a familiar rumbling sound alerted them something wasn’t right. Harley roused from his nap and headed for the French doors.

  “Harley!” The harsh command caused the dog to skid to a stop. Jared jumped off the couch and ran for the doors, quickly closing them and securing the lock.

  “What is it?” Rachel raised herself up on her knees and looked over the back of the couch.

  He rushed to the cabinet and unlocked it, pulling out a shotgun and retrieving ammunition from a drawer.

  “Jared?” Rachel’s voice grew more fearful as the rumbling sounds became louder and more ominous.

  His stark features could have been carved from stone. “We might be having company.”

  “And this company is not someone you want coming here?”

  “Definitely not,” he said grimly.

  “Do you think it is the men who were here before?” she whispered, as if she feared she might be overheard.

  “I don’t know, but we may find out soon.” Once the shotgun was loaded and cradled in one arm, he hurried back to the doors. “Installing bulletproof glass might have been a good idea,” he muttered.

  “Bulletproof glass?” Rachel’s voice squeaked with fear. “But you do not have that! Bullets can break the glass and hit you!” Panic swamped her. “Get away from the door, Jared!” She started to get up. “Please! You could be hurt!”

  “Stay there, Rachel!” His harsh order was firm enough to freeze her in midmotion.

  “But they cannot hurt me and they can hurt you!” she argued, wringing her hands.

  He looked over his shoulder. His eyes glowed in the low light. “Turn off the lamp.”

>   She scrambled to the other end of the couch and switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

  Jared cocked his head to one side, listening intently. “Five, maybe six bikes,” he muttered. “And one needs a tune-up real bad.”

  “Where are they?” she whispered.

  “They’re circling us,” he said in a low voice, looking out the glass door. “They don’t have their headlights on, so we can only hear them. This is their idea of scare tactics. You can hear them, but can’t see them. Makes it more frightening that way.”

  Rachel dug her fingers into the back of the couch. “They are doing an excellent job of frightening me. Should you not call the sheriff? He would come out and arrest them.”

  “The problem is they’re not doing anything illegal,” Jared explained. “Since they’re not close enough for me to make out any details, I’d say they’re right outside the property line, so I can’t accuse them of trespassing.”

  Rachel’s stomach clenched painfully. She had no idea how long the siege went on, only that the horrible rumbling sound was constant. She watched Jared stand by the door, his body like a statue as he stood guard. Harley stood by him, fairly quivering with the urge to go out and chase whatever was upsetting his humans.

  Unable to stay on the couch any longer, Rachel crept over to Jared’s side. Not wanting to distract him, she wrapped her skirt around her legs and sat on the floor. She could see the outline of his head as he glanced down, and his lips curved in a faint white flash of a smile.

  “You’re a stubborn woman, Rachel Weatherly Bingham.”

  She smiled back. “And you know how to make an evening interesting, Jared Stryker.”

  He looked back through the glass, even though he couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “You know, there’s nothing worse than people coming over uninvited. What if we weren’t home?”

  “You are right. They should call on the telephone first,” she said, sharing his dry humor.

  Jared grinned. His grin faded as he looked toward the table, where his cell phone rested. He silently cursed himself for not snagging it on his way over.

  “You’ve seen me use the cell phone,” he said. “So you know what to do if you have to.”

  Her stomach clenched again. Why did he sound as if he wouldn’t be able to use it himself? She didn’t want to think about the possibility of him ending up badly hurt. Or worse. “Jared—”

  He shook his head. “Listen to me, Rachel. I don’t know what these guys have planned. Sure, logic tells me you’re safe, but the rest of me isn’t that logical, and, well, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Can you get over there and grab the phone for me? If things start getting crazy, I want you to punch the numbers 911 and tell whoever answers to get out to the Diamond B Ranch. Tell them a police officer is under fire. And if something happens…” he paused “…just say ‘officer down.’ Got it?”

  She nodded and immediately crept over to the table, picked up the phone and carried it back. She sat on the floor again, cradling the small instrument in her lap.

  “Do you know why they are doing this to us?” she asked in a low voice trembling fear. “You had to call the sheriff when they broke into the barn.”

  Jared thought it probably had more to do with the night he’d been pulled into a van and pounded to a pulp.

  “Could be they know I’m a cop and don’t like it. Could be they just don’t like me. Doesn’t make sense, since everyone knows I’m a real likable guy.”

  “Perhaps they do not like likable guys.” Rachel rested her shoulder against the wall. “We can hope they will make a mistake so you can arrest them.”

  He grinned. “Sweetheart, you can be on my team anytime.”

  Hours later, when the motorcycles sounded as if they were finally moving away, Jared still didn’t relax his vigilance. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, but he kept his senses attuned to the surrounding area as he waited. He sensed Rachel in her curled up position just behind him. That she stayed close by was a comfort to him. For the first time, he didn’t feel alone.

  With their visitors finally gone, he found the silence almost as unnerving as the rumbling of the motorcycles had been.

  As he looked outside, he could see the night sky just start to lighten to a pale pink.

  “I guess everything’s okay now,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

  At that exact second, his cell phone dropped the short distance to the floor. Just like that, Rachel was gone.

  Chapter 11

  After that night, Jared refused to take any more chances. He knew he needed to check a few things out, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving the house unprotected even if the two women occupying it didn’t truly need any physical protection. He realized he didn’t have to worry once he familiarized Maya with handling a modern shotgun.

  “Just don’t try to blow me away when I come back,” he told her as he walked out the door.

  “Then do not surprise me!” she called after him.

  Jared’s first stop was in town. Once he finished his errands there, he drove on past the ranch and took the winding two-lane road up into the hills. He hoped his truck with its tinted windows wouldn’t arouse suspicion among the residents. Thanks to the four-wheel drive, he was able to get off the paved roads and check some of the outlying area.

  Memories of days roaming these hills were still strong. Of nights when his old man had had too many beers and Jared had slipped out of the mobile home, always heading for the empty ranch house. Now he understood why he considered it a refuge. How had he missed not seeing Rachel back then?

  He stopped near a rocky ledge overlooking a meadow.

  “Rachel would love this,” he murmured, looking at the large grassy area with trees in a half circle around it. For a moment he imagined driving her up here. Maybe even bringing a picnic basket. He thought she would like coming here for a picnic. Days like today were perfect for spending the afternoon outside. Then a sharp pang of realization hit him. Rachel would never be able to come out here and have a picnic in the meadow.

  Jared’s frustration was twofold. One part was that he couldn’t find what he was searching for—he didn’t even know what it looked like. The second had to do with Rachel.

  He knew if she couldn’t leave the house, then she would always be there. She would always look the way she did now. And each day he would grow older. He never thought of himself settling down, but what if he completely lost his mind and found someone? What if he got married? How would he explain to a wife that two women lived in his house and, by the way, the ladies were ghosts? That he’d fallen for one of them big time, but it seemed there was no future for them?

  Not an ideal situation for newlyweds.

  As if he could even consider being with another woman after knowing Rachel.

  An afternoon wasted, with only his troubling thoughts for company. He ignored the lengthening shadows as he drove out of the hills. He didn’t bother going back to the ranch. With the way he felt, he knew seeing Rachel just now wasn’t a good idea. Instead, he headed for the only other place he felt comfortable in.

  He knew Lea would sense something was bothering him, but she wouldn’t pester him with questions. She’d wait for him to tell her. He doubted he would be talking about Rachel to anyone else anytime soon.

  Rachel couldn’t stop herself from glancing out each window for a sign of Jared’s return even if she couldn’t see anything in the darkness. Earlier in the day, she had watched him drive away in his truck. She’d spent the hours moving through the rooms, watching Maya worry over nonexistent spots on the windows and specks of dust on the furniture.

  After the night they’d spent listening to the men trying to terrorize them, she felt the strong need to see Jared. She needed the comfort of being with him. The longer he was gone, the more worried she became. She thought back to when she’d sensed the sun setting.

  “I sense your eagerness, chica,” Maya had chuckled. The words barely left her lip
s before she disappeared in the blink of an eye and Rachel appeared.

  Rachel pressed her hand against her stomach now. What if Jared was waylaid on the road? What if he was badly hurt and he couldn’t get help? She knew he carried his small telephone with him, but what if he was so badly hurt he couldn’t use it? What if he was lying in a ditch somewhere? Or worse?

  She stifled the whimper that threatened to crawl up her throat as horrifying images of an injured Jared flashed through her mind.

  Anything could have happened to him and she was powerless to help him. There was no way she could go to him.

  An uneasy Harley remained at her heels as she walked through the house, pausing every few minutes to look out a window. She had even tried to open the French doors, but found them resistant to her pulling on the knobs no matter how hard she tried. Upset and angry, she spat out a curse she’d heard Jared use, and kicked one of the doors. She welcomed the pain that radiated up her leg because it made her feel alive.

  “Where is he?” she cried out, resisting the urge to kick the door again. She wondered if it would open if she kicked it enough times. She settled for stamping her foot. “Dammit!”

  “Ah-ah-ah! Ladies mustn’t swear.”

  She spun around at the sound of the gently mocking voice.

  The front door stood open, with a dark-visaged Jared standing there, radiating danger.

  As he stepped inside, she could see the sparks in his eyes and the wry twist to his mouth. This was a Jared Stryker she had never seen before. She knew she should be afraid of him in this precarious mood, but strangely, she felt no fear.

  “I was worried about you,” she said.

  “You don’t need to be concerned about me. I’ve been taking care of myself all these years without too many problems. But I guess you feel the need to worry about something, don’t you?” He pushed the door shut with his shoulder, then secured the dead bolt. “Since you don’t need to worry about yourself.”

  “What do you mean?” She wasn’t sure where the conversation was taking them, but she didn’t think she liked the direction.