Nearly Departed in Deadwood (35 page)

      “Good.”

      “Although I’m weak around hot fudge and whipped cream.”

      “I’ll remember that,” he said, then his grin disappeared. His eyes took on the haunted look I’d seen for the first time yesterday. “Violet, be careful in that house.”

      I tried to laugh off his warning, but I was all off-key. “Because an old woman who died a decade ago told you she doesn’t like my company?” Hell, those damned clowns gave me worse nightmares.

      “Something like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m still working out the details.”

      Details he thought he’d find in the books in front of him? As far as I was concerned, the only important
detail
was that I had a rundown house to hurry up and sell. “Doc, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

      His smirk didn’t match the intensity in his dark eyes. “Well, I do. And this one is very pissed off about being dead.”

     
Chapter Twenty-Two

      Back in front of my bedroom mirror, hiding behind a veneer of hair gel, red lipstick, and my too-snug red dress, I frowned at the broad in the mirror.

     
Violet wears red,

     
Violet wears blue.

     
Violet is befuddled,

     
With no clue what to do
.

      To sell or not to sell? That was the question I’d been volleying since Doc had warned me earlier at the library to be careful at the Hessler haunt.

      I sucked in my gut and lifted my chin. Maybe a little more light to offset the harsh shadows of the setting sun would help. I flicked on the lamp next to my bed and returned to the mirror. Nope, that made it worse. I sighed and tugged out the pins corralling my curls.

      It wasn’t Doc’s ghost that had me wading in a pool of self-doubt, it was the idea of working so closely with Wolfgang over the next couple of months. If his being easy on the eyes wasn’t enough to make my engine hum tonight, we were going to slide into an awkward tailspin when he hit the gas at the same time I yanked on the parking brake.

      The rumble of a car engine rolled through my open window.

      Speak of the devil. I peeked out through my curtains and saw a white Mercedes cozy up to my Bronco’s back bumper.

      Standing there with bated breath, I watched as Wolfgang pushed open his car door. Something small and blue—a shade lighter than his cobalt shirt—fell to the ground as he stepped out onto the drive and shut the car door. He glanced down at the blue thing, his leg blocking it from my view, then stared at the front of Aunt Zoe’s house.

      I took a step back from the window, but still peeked out and admired his finely-shaped backside as he picked up and pocketed whatever he’d dropped. Trying my damnedest to jump-start my libido, I tried to imagine what he’d look like sans his black trousers. Unfortunately, my stubborn body refused to play along and my pulse kept its slow, steady beat. 

      I dashed back to the mirror, combed my hair with my fingers, and then spritzed my neck and the back of my knees with my favorite sweet, musky perfume. I might look like I’d been wrestling monkeys, but at least I wouldn’t stink like it.

      The doorbell rang.

      “Mom,” Layne hollered up the stairs. “He’s here.”

      “Coming,” I yelled back, rolling my eyes at the lack of enthusiasm in my son’s tone. I grabbed my matching, red-beaded purse from the bed while I slipped on my Jimmy Choo heels. After one last grimace at my finger-in-the-light-socket hairdo, I clomped down the hall toward the stairs.

      The living room was deserted. I heard voices coming from the kitchen and stole across the carpet to the arched entryway.

      Harvey lounged against the counter, a half-eaten banana muffin in his hand, crumbs in his beard. It was the first time I’d had a chance to talk to him since our phone conversation about the ear. I wanted to prod him for more details, find out what Coop had to say, see if there were any more
funny noises
going on behind his barn. However, now was not the time.

      As I hesitated in the doorway, he glanced my way and jumped in surprise—not the most flattering of reactions for my self-esteem. “Well, Lord love a duck! Look at you, girl.” 

      My face now matched the color of my dress. Perfect. I wanted to race back upstairs, bar my bedroom door, and hide under the bed. Instead, I smiled at Wolfgang, who stood by the kitchen table, admiring Layne’s horse spine while my son stood stiff-shouldered next to the refrigerator and glowered.

      “Hi, Wolfgang.”

      Wolfgang’s blue eyes widened at the sight of me. “Wow.”

      He stepped back, his gaze crawling over me as he crossed the room and took my hand. “You look stunning with your hair down.”

      Aw, shucks. “Thanks.” I stood up straighter and sucked in my stomach, wishing I had a shawl to hide my soft spots.

      He raised my hand to his lips. “I’m a very lucky man.”

      He was even more handsome close up in his silk shirt and pleated trousers. With his blond locks messed into a bad-boy hairdo and his teeth dazzling as usual, charisma practically gushed out his pores. I could be happy with this man. Right?

      I just wished my heart was as convinced as my eyes.

      The back door crashed open and Addy barged in, her cast banging on the door frame as she carried the small cage she and Layne had built to catch Elvis. She lowered it to the floor and smiled at Wolfgang. “Here it is. You think it will work?”

      Wolfgang released my hand and walked over to Addy, squatting next to the cage. He lifted the door and let it drop. “Definitely. What will you use as bait?”

      “I don’t know.” Addy’s forehead puckered. “What should I use?”

      “Chicken feed, I guess.” Wolfgang looked at Layne, whose glower now included crossed arms. “What do you think?”

      “I don’t care.”

      I sighed and aimed a glare at the little monster.

      Harvey reached over and ruffled the back of Layne’s hair. “Show some respect, young man.”

      “Sorry,” Layne muttered, scowling at his shoes.

      “It’s okay,” Wolfgang let Layne off the hook with another dazzling smile.

      “How about some worms?” Harvey said to Addy. “My chickens love digging for worms.”

      “Really?”

      “Sure. After your mom leaves, how ‘bout we go hunting for some juicy night crawlers?”

      “Okay!” Addy jumped up and down, her excitement bubbling over.

      Layne nodded, his sheepish grin replacing the frown.

      Wolfgang stood. “That sounds like our cue to leave, Violet. You ready?”

      Ready to get this night over with. “Yep.”

      I stepped back for Wolfgang to pass into the living room. I started to follow on his heels, then paused. “I’ll be right there, Wolfgang.”

      Back in the kitchen, I kissed and hugged Layne goodbye first.

      “Mom,” he whispered, clinging to me. “Don’t go.”

      I unwound his arms from my neck. “Sweetie, stop—”

      “I don’t like him.”

      “You barely know him.”

      “He’s weird.”

      Spoken by a boy who once crammed Mexican jumping beans up his nose in hopes of bouncing to the moon. “Give him a chance, Layne.” At least until I unloaded his house. “Wolfgang was kind enough to let you have that toy train. The least you could do is be nice in return.”

      Layne’s gaze dropped, his lower lip protruding a bit. “Fine, but he can’t move in with us.”

      “Of course not.” Sharing my bed with a man under Aunt Zoe’s roof would be like skinny dipping in holy water. I ruffled Layne’s hair and turned to Addy, who beamed at me.

      “I’m not too old to be a flower girl, Mother.”

      “Dream on, daughter.” I hugged and then kissed her.

      “Do I get a kiss, too?” Harvey snickered.

      I pointed at his beard. “You have some crumbs.”

      “I’m supposed to. I’m an old man.”

      “Not that old.” I patted my crazy curls and adjusted my spaghetti straps. “I’ll be home before nine.”

      “What?” Harvey’s bushy brows shot skyward. “That doesn’t leave you much time to fool around with Russell.”

     
Russell?
Didn’t he mean Wolfgang? “Who?”

      “Russell, the one-eyed muscle.” His shit-eating grin almost reached his ears.

      Both of my kids turned to me, their mouths opening.

      “Never mind!” I poked Harvey in the chest. “Keep it PG tonight, you ol’ buzzard.”

      “What? That was PG.”

      “I’ll see you in a bit.”

      “Get a piece for me!” He called to my back.

      Wolfgang waited for me at the front door, holding the screen open. “A piece of what?”

      “Cake. Harvey likes cake.”

      Our shoes crunched along the gravel drive. The aroma of fresh-cut grass blended with Deadwood’s usual pine-tree potpourri in the still air. In spite of its fading hold, the sun continued to dole out warmth, keeping the goosebumps at bay.

      As we backed out of the drive, Wolfgang glanced at me. “You’re quieter than usual. Something on your mind?”

      Yes. He had dark brown eyes and was wining and dining with my best friend at this very moment. “No, I’m just enjoying being here with you.”

      “Good.” He squeezed my hand. “I can’t wait to show you my surprise.”

      If it was Harvey’s buddy, Russell, I’d exit sprinting.

      “I can’t wait to see it.” I tried to make that sound genuine, adding as much inflection as I could muster. Wolfgang was a nice guy—giving, good to my kids. Why wasn’t that enough?

      “Before we go any further,” he reached under his seat. “I want you to put this on.” He held out a black satin sleeping mask. When I just stared at him, he tweaked my chin and added. “I’m serious. It’s part of the surprise.”

      I complied, slipping on the lavender-scented mask and sliding into darkness, but remaining stiff in my seat as he hit the gas.

      “Did you ever find out who was sending you flowers?” he asked.

      He had a good memory. I’d forgotten I’d told him about the daisies. “Yes, actually.”

      The car shifted as we turned left. I clutched the seat.

      “Do I have some competition?”

      “No.” I threw in a chuckle to camouflage my lie.

      The car swung right, then left a little farther up the road, then left again after a bit longer.

      “Good. I’d hate to lose you.”

      I was ninety-five percent sure I was already lost.

      The car slowed. I heard gravel crunching under the tires. Then we stopped, the engine idling.

      “I’ll be right back,” he said and I felt the air pressure change as he opened his door. True to his word, he returned in a jiff. “We’re almost there.”

      “Almost where?” We had twisted about enough that I couldn’t tell if we were close to downtown or somewhere in the boonies.

      “You’ll see.”

      We rolled forward slowly, then he parked and killed the engine.

      “Can I look now?” Curiosity had me sitting forward. I fingered the satin mask and hoped my mascara and eyeliner hadn’t smeared. I doubted Wolfgang would find me so attractive when I looked like Beetlejuice’s twin sister.

      “Not yet.”

      His door clicked shut. I waited, trying to rally some enthusiasm so I could appear as excited as I should be.

      I heard my door open.

      “Okay, darling, just a little further.” His palm warmed my upper arm as he helped me out of the car.

      The slam of my door echoed, like we were inside a building. Yet gravel crunched under my shoes as I stepped away from the car. I opened my mouth to ask where we were and the ground under my feet turned soft and lumpy—grass.

      “Hold on a second,” he said, and let me go. In the midst of a ruckus of caws from a murder of nearby crows, I heard a creak and then a thump behind me. What was that? Some kind of door? Then Wolfgang was back, leading me along the grass.

      “Three steps up.” He saved me from falling on my face when my toe collided with the last step. “You okay?”

      “I think so.” Although, I’d heard a rip from somewhere south of my neck, and that couldn’t be good, especially since the red undies that matched my dress were still at home in the dirty clothes hamper. My heels clomped across a wood floor.

      He had me pause for a second, then said, “One more small step here.”

      I obeyed, and my soles came down on something smoother than the wood I’d been walking on. The aroma of roasted chicken enticed me along as the crow caws became muffled. My stomach gurgled awake, curious as well, now.

      Wolfgang led me across what felt like linoleum underfoot. The melodic sound of a piano accompanied by various stringed instruments grew louder as we walked. I didn’t recognize the tune. My mother must not be a groupie for the composer.

      We turned right twice and then stopped.

      “Here we are.” Wolfgang lifted off my satin mask.

      I blinked in the flickering light. My mouth gaped after my eyes finally focused. Surrounded by what must have been fifty candles, we stood in the breakfast nook in Wolfgang’s house—the place where we’d first had lunch together weeks ago.

      “Surprised?”

      For the second time in twenty-four hours, I had to rummage around for my tongue. “Uh, huh.”

      I peeked at the ceiling. A bit freaked out, too, in spite of the calming music. If I heard one thump overhead tonight, I’d be donning my Speedy Gonzales shoes and disappearing in a cloud of dust.

      Wolfgang pulled out a chair for me. I lowered into it, pretending to tuck under my dress while checking the seams for a tear. I found the hole mid-hip, no bigger than my fingertip. My shoulder blades loosened. I didn’t relish Wolfgang seeing London, France, and my mint-green underpants.

      The feel of Wolfgang’s lips brushing my shoulder cinched me right back up.