Ropes and Revenge (9 page)

“Because I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “Or myself. Or her. I don’t know, Percy. I just know I don’t have anything to give you. To give anyone.”

“Then let me give to you instead,” she said, leaning in until her lips were so close he could feel her body heat warming his mouth. “Kiss me and take whatever you find.”

His jaw clenched even as his arms tightened around her, crushing her closer to his chest. He was practically dying for a taste of her. He wanted to push his tongue past her lips and explore her mouth. He wanted to kiss her until he forgot about pain and doubt, until he couldn’t think about anything but the rush of his blood in his veins and the bliss of having a beautiful woman in his arms. He wanted to take her back to the hotel and disappear into her, get lost in her kiss, and remember what it felt like to be skin to skin with someone who wasn’t going to vanish when he opened his eyes, leaving him to wake up alone.

But it had been a decade since he’d been with anyone but Lily. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel guilty for wanting Percy, but he knew that once he took this step, he could never go back. He would be starting down a road that led away from his wife, away from the love they’d shared and all the dreams they’d dreamed together.

And he couldn’t take that step, not yet. Maybe not ever.

“I’m sorry,” he said, setting Percy back on her feet. “I can’t. No matter how much a part of me wants to. You’re beautiful and sweet and I know we’d—”

“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” Percy said, arms crossing at her chest as she took a step away. “You don’t have to flatter me. I understand. I’m not— I’m just sorry I let myself…” She brought her hands to her cheeks. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“No, I should be,” she said, shaking her head. “I knew better.” She swallowed and nodded firmly. “But I don’t think I’m up for more strategizing tonight. Could I take a rain check? Talk to you later this week?”

“You still want to help?” he asked, surprised.

“Of course.” She looked up at the darkening sky, down the street to her right, and over at the line of houses behind him, anywhere but into his eyes. “Just give me a day or two to be ashamed of myself and I’ll be fine. Talk to you soon.”

She darted off the curb, weaving slightly before she found her stride and scurried the rest of the way across the street.

“At least let me walk you back to the hotel,” John said, going after her.

“No, please, I’d rather walk alone,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as she increased her pace. “Goodbye, John.” She waved before turning and practically jogging away, her long hair bouncing around her shoulders.

“Goodbye.” He stopped in the middle of the quiet residential street, watching her go with a tight, miserable feeling in his chest.

He didn’t want to let her run away, but he couldn’t go after her. He was trapped between a past he couldn’t let go of and a future he couldn’t imagine, but for a moment, when he was gazing into Percy’s eyes, something had shifted inside of him. She had shaken the foundation of his impenetrable walls, and something had taken root in the fissure left behind. It was new and fragile, but he sensed that it could grow into something special if he had the courage to let it.

But he didn’t know if he had that kind of courage anymore, or if he could stand to start caring for a woman who might as well be from another world she was so different from the women he’d known.

But not so different from one woman.

And that was the scariest part of all and the reason he was determined to keep his hands to himself from now on. He’d barely survived loving and losing a woman like Lily once. He couldn’t risk going there again.

And so he waited until he was certain Percy was back at her hotel before slowly retracing his steps to the truck and driving away, not allowing himself so much as a glance in the rearview mirror.

CHAPTER SIX

Percy

Monday afternoon, Percy arrived at Old Town Lonesome Point a half hour before her scheduled tour. She parked behind a white truck near the entrance to the ghost town, where restored buildings squatted in the shadow of a butte with a spindly rock formation stretching toward the sky. The exhibit was closed on Mondays, but she hoped to have the chance to walk around the perimeter of the fences and read the energy of the historical site before her guide arrived.

But when she slid out of her rental car into the warmth of an Indian summer afternoon, a woman with red curls several shades brighter than her own sticking out from beneath a brown cowboy hat, was already waiting for her in the limited shade provided by the ticket booth awning.

“You must be Persephone,” she said, stepping out into the sun. “I’m Mia. Hope you brought a hat. It’s dangerous for us redheads out here. Not a speck of shade between here and the old mill.”

“Please, call me Percy.” She shook Mia’s hand before popping the trunk and fetching her straw hat from inside. “Thank you so much for meeting me today. I’ve been looking forward to this since we talked on the phone.”

“Me too!” Mia smiled. “I’m so excited to pick your brain. We’ve had other paranormal enthusiasts here, but none of them were the real deal.”

“Oh, well, I’m real.” Percy laughed uncomfortably as Mia looped an arm through hers and led the way toward the entrance to the historical site. “But I can’t promise I’ll be able to make contact with any spirits this afternoon. Sometimes it takes time. And sometimes there’s no one to make contact with, even in places like this, where you’d expect a few troubled souls to linger.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Mia waved a breezy hand through the air. “I’m already a big fan of your work. Layla’s a good friend of mine and she is over the moon about the pregnancy news. She’s had baby fever since my son Lawson was born.”

“That’s a familiar name,” Percy said, ignoring the prick of shame inspired by hearing John’s last name. She couldn’t believe she’d behaved so unprofessionally and had spent most of the day trying to keep memories of last night—and that near kiss—from surfacing in her brain. “I visited the Lawson ranch on my first day here.”

“I know,” Mia said, laughing at the confused look on Percy’s face. “Word travels fast in Lonesome Point, and Bubba, the youngest Lawson brother, has been my best friend forever. He’s the one who bullied me into going on my first date with my husband, so it only seemed right to name a kid or two after him.”

She paused, punching a code into the access panel on the metal gate that sent it swinging inward. “So how long do you think you’ll be in town?” She dropped Percy’s arm and motioned her through. “Long enough to go on another date with John, I’m hoping.”

Percy faltered, tripping over a crack in the concrete and stumbling through the gate. She turned back to Mia, certain her ears were playing tricks on her. “Excuse me?”

“Like I said, word travels fast.” Mia closed the gate behind her. “My grandmother saw you and John walking around downtown last night and couldn’t get me on the phone fast enough. And then I called Bubba, who called our friend Tulsi in Montana, so we could speculate on the situation over FaceTime. We’ve all been worried about John. It’s good to see some signs of life from him after all these months.”

“Oh, well. We w-weren’t on a date,” Percy stammered, refusing to think about those charged minutes when John had held her and she’d been so sure something amazing was going to happen between them. “We’re just friends and I’m helping him with some…things that he’s interested in.”

Mia nodded but didn’t step away from the gate. “Things like what?”

“We have similar interests,” Percy said, not wanting to betray John’s confidence or share too much with a woman she’d just met.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t push,” Mia said, wrinkling her nose. “Just know if you two ever started being more than just friends we’d all be thrilled.”

Percy blinked. “But you don’t even know me.”

“That’s okay. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you’re not a serial killer since the overwhelming majority of serial killers are men,” Mia said. “And I wouldn’t care if you were one of those weirdos who want to eat a car, piece by piece, as long as you help bring John back to the land of the living.”

“Do people really do that?” Percy asked.

“They do,” Mia said, eyes widening. “Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I watched a documentary on strange cravings a few years ago. They had a guy on there who ate his vintage Harley-Davidson motorcycle after it died so they would always be together.”

“But, they wouldn’t,” Percy said, brow furrowing. “I mean, wouldn’t the pieces eventually work their way through? If you know what I’m saying?”

Mia laughed. “I know exactly what you’re saying because that’s what I said.” She winked. “I can tell we’re going to be friends already.”

Percy smiled. “I hope so.”

Mia waved her forward. “Come on, we’ll start with the general store and work our way down the street.”

The next half hour passed pleasantly. As they wandered around the original exhibit, Mia told stories about her Sherman ancestors and other Old West residents of Lonesome Point, making the tour one of the more interesting Percy had been on in years. By the time they reached the newly restored portion of the town and started down the wooden plank walkway toward the hotel and saloon, she could practically see the women in long dresses bustling around town with children in tow and hear the creak of wagon wheels and the huffing of horses in the crowded streets.

“My great-great-etcetera grandmother and namesake opened the hotel and saloon and ran it alone until her death,” Mia said, gesturing toward the swinging doors leading into a large room dominated by a handsome bar and a stage twice the size of the one at the Blue Saloon in town. “But we’ll start this portion of the tour in the jailhouse and then make our way back to the hotel. My husband and his crew just finished restoring the cells in there last week and I’ve been dying to show them off.”

“So far, all the work I’ve seen has been impeccable,” Percy gushed. “It’s so wonderful that your family is doing this right and not cutting corners on the workmanship or materials.”

Mia smiled over her shoulder as she fit a key into the jailhouse’s lock. “You can thank my husband for that. He’s a stickler for historical detail. He spent months redoing a dozen little things in the old exhibit before he and the crew even got started on the new restoration. At this rate, he’ll probably be working on Old Town for the rest of his life.”

“Not a bad life’s work,” Percy said, following Mia into the jailhouse. “I can think of worse ways to…” She trailed off, shivering as she stepped into the front room, where an antique desk and chair sat in front of a window overlooking the street.

“Are you all right?” Mia asked.

Percy turned to find the other woman studying her face more closely than she had before. “I’m fine. Just feels chillier in here than in the other buildings.”

“The jail is built over a series of caverns,” Mia said, gesturing to the floor beneath their feet. “It helps keep it cool in here. The foundation has been reinforced now, but when we first started restoring the building there was nothing but rotten plank between you and certain death. My husband actually fell through the floor during his first tour.”

“How scary,” Percy mumbled, crossing toward the desk, her footfalls echoing in her ears and her skin getting colder with every step.

“Terrifying,” Mia agreed. “But I should have known better than to let anyone walk around in here. Until the restoration started, these buildings hadn’t had a safety inspection since the early…”

Mia’s voice faded away, becoming a distant drone as ice crept into Percy’s bones and her ears filled with a wild, rushing sound. Her lungs froze and her heart clenched tightly in her chest as something old and weathered stretched beneath her skin.

But this wasn’t an angry spirit like the one on the Lawson’s property. This soul was barely clinging to its grip on this world, so close to crossing over its voice was a thready murmur scratching in her ears, whispering something about a secret.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Percy

Percy focused, pain blooming behind her eyes as she funneled more energy into the connection, opening herself completely to the consciousness sharing her skin.

It wasn’t safe to be so vulnerable with some spirits, but there was nothing menacing about this entity. It was gentle and tired but also eager to communicate before its long time wandering was finally through.

It kept saying something about a secret. A secret it needed to share before it could rest.

“What secret?” Percy asked, her voice echoing through the small space. Dimly, she heard Mia respond, but she didn’t try to focus on the other woman’s words. She wasn’t here for the living, she was here for the dead, for souls like this who needed her help to communicate with the world they’d left behind.

The body in the cavern isn’t all. There’s so much more than they know. So many secrets.

“What’s the most important thing you need to share?” Percy asked, knowing from experience how easy it was for a spirit to become overwhelmed by a big picture colored by hundreds of years of living on the fringes of the waking world. “If you could only tell me one thing, what would it be?”