Heaven's Gift aka Kiss of an Angel

by Janelle Denison

  Leaving the comfort of the couch, she padded to the kitchen for a drink of water, searching for the source of her unease. Filling a glass with the tap from the sink, she stared out the window, seeing nothing but the murky darkness of night. Black, like an impending doom. An electrical current of anxiety raced along her nerves.

  King's Ransom.

  The stallion's name whispered through her mind without provocation. A chill eddied down her spine. A strong, niggling intuition propelled her into action. Setting the glass on the counter, she started for the front door, stopping for a second at the den.

  She stuck her head in the doorway. "I'll be right back, Laura."

  Frowning at Caitlan's brusqueness, Laura stood and followed Caitlan down the hall. "Where are you going?"

  "To the barn," she said over her shoulder, jogging down the porch steps. "Stay here."

  Laura dogged her steps. "Dad said we shouldn't go anywhere alone."

  "Stay in the house!" Caitlan ordered, her boots crunching on the gravel.

  Laura ignored her. "I'm not letting you go to the barn alone. Dad's gonna freak when he finds out we went down there."

  Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. Caitlan could feel it in her bones; her intuition so strong, so overwhelming, it nearly smothered her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a large silhouette slink around the side of the barn, then disappear behind the structure.

  "Hey!" Caitlan yelled to get the person's attention. A blur of shadowy movement took off toward the bunkhouse. Knowing she'd never be able to catch up to the person, she let him go.

  "Who was that?" Laura asked, her voice full of bewilderment.

  "I don't know." A horse's high-pitched cry, full of terror, rent the night. King. Caitlan broke into a run toward the barn, apprehension rippling through her. Flinging the door open, a cloud of smoke billowed out. The biting, acrid scent of burning wood slipped up her nostrils.

  "Oh, God, Laura. The barn is on fire!" Caitlan's heart pumped furiously and she automatically pushed Laura in the opposite direction, out of harm's way. "Go back to the house and call Frank, and then your father."

  Laura's eyes widened, her expression frightened. She clutched at Caitlan's sleeve, tears of fright filling her eyes. "Don't go in there-"

  Caitlan stole a precious moment to smooth a reassuring hand over Laura's cheek. 'I'll be fine, I promise, but I need you to call for help."

  Bottom lip trembling, Laura nodded. "Please be careful." Whirling around, she ran back toward the house, her long hair flying out behind her.

  Once Caitlan assured herself of Laura's safety, she rushed into the barn. The crackle of fire devouring wood reached her ears. Unable to see more than three feet in front of her for all the smoke hazing the area, she guessed the blaze to be at the far end of the barn.

  Swallowing back the alarm crowding her throat, she started unlatching stalls and quickly guided the terrified horses, one at a time, out the side door leading to the open pasture. With each horse she released, the heat, smoke, and snapping fire intensified.

  King's scream shattered Caitlan's concentration. His fear and panic squeezed her heart like a tight fist. Please let him be okay, she silently prayed, her only request for divine intervention.

  Smacking the last mare on the rump, sending her into the pasture with the other horses, Caitlan headed toward the echo of King's terrified screams. Searching frantically through the cloud of churning, pungent smoke, she finally located King's stall and found the true source of the fire.

  The empty stall next to King's was an inferno of hungry flames, the bright orange flares eating their way into the stallion's pen, lapping the walls of King's stall and sparking the hay covering the ground. King thrashed wildly, trying to escape the blaze consuming his stall.

  She moved forward, grabbing an old towel someone had draped over a wooden bench. The smoke made it difficult to find the coiled lead rope hanging near King's stall, but her searching fingers finally found the nubbly cord. Eyes stinging, she threw open the stall door. Tossing the towel over King's head to shield his eyes, she quickly clipped the hook to his halter and guided the screaming and terrified horse from his burning stall.

  Struggling against King's urge to flee, she blindly found her way through the barn. Smoke choked her. Every breath she took burned her lungs.

  Her grip on the lead rope slipped, and King took advantage of the slack and shied away, his high-pitched neigh of fright piercing the air. A battle of wills ensued. Caitlan jerked him forward, but he was a powerful animal, driven by fear. He tugged on the rope and danced about, neighing. Thick smoke curled around them, making it difficult to see King, or the entrance.

  The crackle of wood splintering sent chills up Caitlan's spine; then a deafening crash shook the ground beneath her, sending King into another fit of panic and throwing her off balance. She knew King's stall had collapsed and the fire was rapidly spreading. In the distance she heard urgent shouts for help from the hands, and tried to focus on the sound, to use it as a guide to lead them out of the barn.

  Disoriented from King's thrashing, she started forward. The roar of raging fire filled her head. Scorching heat seemed to surround her from every angle, closing in like a monstrous shark feeding frenzy. She stopped short, trying to find a familiar landmark, but was unable to see anything through the murky smoke. King jerked wildly against the rope and she stumbled.

  A helpless sound escaped her raw throat. The structure seemed to close in on her, snatching the breath from her lungs. Head spinning and stomach rolling, she groped for the medallion beneath her sweatshirt.

  Heaven help her, she'd lost all sense of direction.

  Bringing his truck to a skidding halt in front of the house, J.T. jumped out of the driver's side before the dust and gravel had a chance to settle. His feet hit the ground running, too anxious to wait for Kirk, who'd pulled up in his truck behind J.T.'s.

  When Laura had called him, sobbing, and told him the barn was on fire and Caitlan was in it trying to save the animals, his heart had stopped beating. All he could remember thinking was that if he lost Caitlan in that fire he'd never be the same again.

  Laura's plea of, "Hurry, Dad, I'm scared" propelled him to hang up the phone and yell the message to Kirk before bolting out of the house to his truck. The drive had taken him less than three minutes.

  Now, adrenaline and gut-wrenching fear for Caitlan's life ruled him. Shoving aside his worry, he ran to the barn, his gaze scanning the area for Caitlan. His men were just arriving on the scene. Frank shouted orders as he opened the storage shed off to the side, flipped on a flood light to illuminate the area, and began tossing out buckets for the troughs, extinguishers, and water hoses.

  Oh, God, where was Caitlan? Stark terror twisted in his heart as he neared the barn. Smoke spewed out the doors, the windows, and even slithered through minuscule cracks in the structure. The sinister sound of flames enveloping wood, and anything else in their path, breached the night. More adrenaline surged through his body at the thought of Caitlan being trapped in there.

  "Dad!"

  J.T. whipped around. Laura stood away from the activity, all alone, her arms wrapped around her stomach. The floodlight shone off her tear-streaked face. Relief poured over him at seeing her unharmed, only to be replaced by dread. "Where's Caitlan?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

  A sob broke from Laura. "She's still in the barn!"

  J.T. swore profanely, hating the fear that made his blood run cold. He despised even more the horrifying memories of another woman's tragic death. And that he'd been helpless to save her.

  Not this time, he vowed, racing toward the barn. He wouldn't lose Caitlan. Not without a fight. Not after she'd insinuated herself in his life and made him fall in love with her. Especially not after she'd made him feel and need and care so deeply again.

  Thinking only of Caitlan, he pushed aside his men and entered the barn first. The darkness of night, mingled with the hazy smoke, momentarily blinded him. He swallowed
to ease the rasp in his throat, unsure if the bitter taste in his mouth was fear or smoke.

  "Caitlan!" he bellowed, charging into the thick of it.

  He heard her cough weakly, and King's sharp cry of alarm, just yards away from him. Breathing shallowly, he moved forward and nearly ran into her. He found her clutching that damnable medallion of hers like a lifeline in one hand and the rope secured to King in the other.

  She looked up at him, gratitude touching her features. "J.T.," she rasped, then coughed.

  Torn between throttling her and hugging her, he took the rope from her fingers and grabbed her arm, navigating her and King around his men rushing to put out the blaze.

  Once outside, J.T. didn't give King a chance to put up a fight or turn wild on him. Keeping up a steady, fast-paced stride, with Caitlan jogging to keep up, he dragged the skittish stallion to an empty corral. Letting go of Caitlan long enough to unlatch the gate, he removed the towel from King's head, then led the horse inside and set him free.

  Then he turned toward Caitlan.

  Now that the crises was over his blood ran hot in his veins and his pulse beat erratically. Knowing Frank and his men could handle things without his assistance, J.T. focused on the more important matters pressing in on him.

  Needing to affirm that Caitlan was truly alive and unharmed, he dropped the towel and took her face in his hands. He cupped her warm, smooth flesh, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, her nose, her lips. Reassured by her presence, giant shudders of relief rippled through his body.

  Her thighs pressed against his and her fingers curled desperately into his shirt. She drew in a deep, cleansing breath; then her lashes fluttered closed and her lips parted on a sigh.

  "J.T.," she whispered, leaning into him, lifting her mouth to his.

  Sensing the same urgent need in Caitlan that flowed through his own body after such a harrowing experience, he crushed his mouth to hers without coaxing preliminaries or gentleness. No, this kiss was meant to possess and brand her as his own.

  God, he could have lost her, he thought desperately, wrapping his arms around her back and hauling her body flush to his. He could have been thrust back into the same kind of nightmare that had shattered his life sixteen years ago. If he lost Caitlan, he'd die inside. She'd become a part of his heart and soul and he couldn't imagine living without her. He refused to think of living the same lonely, desolate existence he had before she'd arrived on the Circle R.

  With a groan of surrender, he opened his mouth wider over hers, kissing her deeply, thoroughly. Her mouth was warm and sweet and generous. The gates imprisoning his emotions broke, and he poured every worry, every need, every feeling he had for her into the hungry kiss.

  She tasted like smoke and woman, like life itself. He saturated his senses in her, took greedily and gave openly.

  When he finally lifted his mouth from hers they were both breathing hard. Shimmering moonlight enabled him to see the exhaustion painting her features and the desire brightening her eyes. As he looked at her, drinking in her disheveled appearance and dirt-smudged face, an incredible protective feeling drenched his heart. This time he accepted the emotion willingly, treasured and cherished it like a rare jewel.

  Sweeping a hand down her spine, he molded her to him. He held her so close they were practically one, so intimately he was certain she felt the hard, aroused length of him straining the confines of his jeans.

  "Don't ever do anything so foolish as that again!" he said fiercely, burying his face in her neck, skimming his lips along her soft, warm flesh. He couldn't get enough of her. Touching her, tasting her, confirmed that she wasn't just an illusion.

  She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. "I had to save King." Her resolute tone clearly stated that she would have risked her life for the horse again if faced with the need.

  Her goodness and loyalty should have surprised him but didn't. Not anymore. "You could have been killed trying to save him." His arms tightened around her. "Don't you understand? I could have lost you!" I love you! his heart shouted, but the actual words snagged in his throat.

  She smiled and touched her warm fingertips to his jaw. "I'm fine, really."

  An abrupt laugh escaped him, releasing the last of the tension coiling his body. He shook his head, unable to believe how unflappable she was about the incident. "Only you would shrug this off as an everyday event. Until I find out what happened in the barn I don't want you around here. Take Laura and go on up to the house."

  Her gaze flickered to the stallion in the corral. "But King-"

  "I don't want you near him right now, Caitlan. He doesn't look in the mood for company." She opened her mouth, but he covered it with his hand. "If you don't stop putting yourself in danger with that horse, you're going to make me crazy," he growled. "And if you don't stop arguing with me, I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and haul you up to the house myself." His voice lowered huskily. "And I won't be responsible for what happens after that."

  His sexy threat registered in her eyes.

  "What's your decision, Caitie?"

  She hesitated a moment, something warm and inviting glistening in her eyes; then she backed away. "I'm going." She gave him one last, lingering glance that filled him with warmth. "Be careful," she said softly, then turned and headed toward Laura.

  J.T. stood there, watching Caitlan take Laura under her arm and comfort the girl as they walked up to the house. Once they were inside J.T. strode into the barn. The fire had been extinguished; now his men were busy sopping up water and piling the debris. The pungent scent of burnt wood and wet ash surrounded him.

  Glancing around the immediate area, he found no fire damage. He moved with purpose down the row of stalls toward the back of the barn and froze when he saw King's burnt and blackened stall, and the stall directly next to his, the only area seemingly devastated by the fire. The beams overhead had collapsed into the stalls and would have crushed King if Caitlan hadn't saved him. Hell, those beams could have been her coffin!

  Impotent anger tangled with new emotions swirling inside him. Who was behind this latest incident? he wondered.

  Frank walked into the barn from the south end, followed by Jack, a lanky hand of twenty-two. "Once we get this mess cleaned up let's start moving the animals back into their stalls," Frank ordered.

  "What should we do about the stallion?" Jack asked.

  Frank picked up a water hose and began coiling it. "Hitch one of the other mares at the far end of the barn and give him his own stall for the night so he doesn't hurt anyone."

  "Who's gonna bring him in?" Jack asked, hands placed defiantly on his hips. "Andy's the only one crazy enough to drag King into the barn, and he isn't here. You can't pay me to get within five feet of the beast."

  "Then leave King in the corral for the night," J.T. ordered. "Andy can bring him in the morning."

  Both men glanced his way. Jack's expression turned sheepish and his hands dropped back to his sides.

  "Here, Jack." Frank passed the other man the water hose. "Take this back to the shed."

  Jack took his cue and left.

  "How's Caitlan?" Frank asked, his tone softening.

  "Fine. I sent her up to the house with Laura. I think I'm more shaken by what happened than she is." J.T. rubbed at the tense muscles in his neck, still baffled at how calm Caitlan had been. No tears over the ordeal, no hysterics, just a hot, needy kiss that reached to his soul and beyond.

  Glancing back at King's incinerated stall, a fresh batch of fury coursed through him. "What, exactly, happened here?"

  Grabbing a rag from his back pocket, Frank wiped his dirty hands. "Seems like a fire started in the empty stall next to King's. All the animals are fine and the damage minimal, thanks to Caitlan's foresight."

  A prickle of awareness skittered over J.T.'s skin. "Foresight? What do you mean?"

  Bewilderment creased Frank's bushy brow. "It's the damnedest thing. From what Laura says, Caitlan ran out of the house earlier like something was wro
ng. She got to the barn just as the fire started and began releasing the horses from their stalls."

  J.T. dragged a hand down his face, somehow not surprised that Caitlan had sensed the fire. Strange. Strange like her drawings. Strange like her medallion. Strange like the link that made her seem so much a part of him, even when she wasn't around. Who could explain any of that?

  Kicking that nonsense out of his head, he rerouted his thoughts back to business. "What do you think about the fire? Was it set deliberately?" Did he even need to ask?

  "Most likely." The tone of Frank's voice bordered on resignation as he concentrated on rubbing soot off his palm. "There was nothing in either stall that could have started the fire."

  J.T.'s jaw hardened as his first two prime suspects entered his mind without any prompting. "Where were Randal and Mike?"

  Frank shook his head, already ahead of the game. "I checked them out first thing. Mike had a solid alibi and Randal said he was watching TV in his cabin when he heard the hands yelling for help. Both men helped to put out the fire."

  Uneasiness crept over J.T. "I want the fire marshall out here tomorrow to conduct an investigation." And maybe he'd mention the strange occurrences that had happened over the past week, just to get them recorded for future reference.

  Frank nodded. "Will do."

  Nearly an hour later, after the animals had been secured in the undamaged section of the barn, J.T. slipped into the quiet, dark house. The guest bathroom shower was running, and J.T. assumed Caitlan was in there, scrubbing the smoke and soot from her body. He found Laura fast asleep in her bed. Placing a loving kiss on her cheek, he smoothed the covers, then left her room and headed back down the hall.

  J.T. restlessly paced the guest room while waiting for Caitlan. He tried not to imagine her in the shower, the warm water and slick soap sluicing over her silken skin, and failed. He wanted her too badly not to respond to the merest thought of her.