Rustler's Moon (11 page)

“I’m sorry.” If he hadn’t been cramped in a booth, he would have hugged her.

She blinked away tears. “I’ll be all right.”

He fought to keep from pulling her closer. They weren’t friends, maybe never would be, but this woman made him feel more alive than he had in a long time.

Wilkes wished she’d share more, but he could put the pieces together. Her dad died, she broke up with her fiancé. There must have been nothing left to keep her there. She was a woman on the run from her life.

“Where did you say you came from?”

Her sadness turned to alarm. “I didn’t.”

Wilkes swore silently. So much for casual conversation.

“None of my business,” he said as he mentally moved away even if he couldn’t leave physically.

“Right. I just don’t want to talk about me.”

This woman’s emotions were wired with so many land mines he’d be lucky to survive long enough to understand her.

“Keep it professional. No personal questions.”

“I agree.”

Something about the way she straightened and nodded made him want to kiss her senseless, but every brain cell shouted that kissing her might not be a good idea.

“How about we start as friends?”

She finally seemed to relax. “I can handle that.”

When Yancy turned back to them, he seemed totally unaware that they’d been talking while he’d been flirting with the waitress.

They continued in casual conversation like old friends. Wilkes was still confused why he liked being near her and, worse, why he didn’t want Yancy flirting with her. Yancy flirted with every woman in town under fifty.

Then, probably just to mess with his brain, Angie acted as if she didn’t notice he was sitting two inches away from her. If he touched her any more often, she’d think he had a twitch.

She’d spent most of the meal ignoring him and asking questions about the old house. Yancy didn’t know much, and Wilkes handed over all he knew. When he went for more coffee, he came back to find Yancy and Angie staring into each other’s eyes.

“You’re right,” she said. “One of your eyes is gray and the other green.”

“I told you. Someone said that means I could have Gypsy blood in me. Maybe that is why the house calls me. It knows I’m blood.”

Angie laughed. “How exciting.”

Wilkes didn’t want to look in Yancy’s eyes and he wished he could think of something about his Wagner ancestors that was interesting.

By the time he paid the bill, Wilkes was frustrated. He was used to women playing up to him but Angie made no attempt. It was as though she didn’t care if he was there or not. He told himself he would turn her down gently anyway, but it was a shot to his pride that she didn’t even try.

Several times during the meal she’d glanced out the window. He had the feeling she was watching for something. But what? She hadn’t lived in town long enough to make an enemy.

The wind had turned cold by the time they left the café. Wilkes pulled his hat low as the first hint of rain splashed across the windshield of his Tahoe.

Yancy waved goodbye and darted across the street to his apartment in the front of the retirement community.

Wilkes walked close to Angie and opened the door for her.

“I told you, you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked innocently.

“Open doors for me. No one does that anymore.”

“We do here,” he said. “Where did you say you came from?”

“I didn’t, but I...I was born in New York, and I grew up in Florida. If everyone stopped to open doors in New York, the whole city would come to a standstill.”

“So, you liked living in New York?” He was finally making progress. She’d told him something about her background.

“S-sure.”

She had hesitated just long enough to make him wonder if she were telling the truth. She seemed so innocent, almost newborn to the world, but there was a shadow following her. The lady had a past.

“I’m just being polite when I open doors.” He fought the urge to touch her again, just to make sure she was all right. “All you have to say is thank you.”

“Oh, I see. I have to say thank you for something I didn’t ask for.”

There it was again.
That smart mouth just under her shy act. Once she lost her fear of him, she’d probably cut him to shreds. Damn if he didn’t find the lady’s attitude sexy.

Wilkes circled around his car thinking he needed to get in as fast as possible. If she started arguing without him, he wouldn’t have a chance at keeping up. Maybe his mind had been sharp enough to handle a woman like her when he’d been in college, or even right after he got out of the army, but not now that his brain had been rusting for years.

An old memory danced across his thoughts. When he’d been in college, his steady girlfriend, Lexie, used to talk on and on about nothing. At the time he thought it was cute. She even talked during sex.

Thinking about it now, Wilkes decided that wasn’t cute.

He used to think that he knew every thought in Lexie’s head. Obviously not. She dumped him within two months of his deployment. Friends claimed she’d already roped a new guy before he was out of United States airspace. Some commented that she did the same between husband number one and husband number two.

Angie was a totally different kind of woman. She didn’t flirt, or play silly games when she talked. He decided maybe she was the never-marry type, or maybe one of those women who marry someone years older and wiser so they can have long evenings of conversations. He figured he was out of luck if that were the case. First, he wasn’t that much older than her, and second, he’d always thought his communication skills were more on the nonverbal side.

Wilkes had a feeling she’d love one man if she ever decided to love at all, and he wasn’t ready for an all-out kind of love. Maybe he could talk her into being just friends. No, better yet, friends with benefits.

No, she’d never go for that.

To say he didn’t understand her was an understatement. They weren’t just from different planets; they were from opposite solar systems. She was mad at him for opening her door. Hell. That made no sense. And besides, she hadn’t mentioned much of anything about her fiancé. He thought all women ran down every old lover within the first two hours of meeting anyone new. It was a comparison-shopping kind of thing.

“Okay, Angie, you don’t have to say thank you.” He kept his voice calm. All his anger was turned inward as he realized he’d been dating girls by their bust size and not their IQ. He wouldn’t be surprised if a few he’d picked up at the Two Step around closing time didn’t know
how
to open a car door. He usually drove them home and gave a quick kiss, then spent the rest of the night wondering why he’d put his tongue in the mouth of someone who was brain-dead.

“Fair enough,” Angie said, unaware he wasn’t paying attention to her as they passed down the main street of Crossroads. “I had fun talking with you and Yancy over dinner. I usually eat meals alone. Just me and Doc Holliday.”

“Doc’s been gone for quite a while, Angie. You talking to his ghost?”

“Doc Holliday is my cat.”

Damn! Now he felt sorry for her. She ate all her meals with a pet. “You should try eating meals with Uncle Vern. He’ll make you long for silence.”

“How long has he lived with you?” she asked, as if just making conversation.

“All my life. But he doesn’t live with me. He has his own place on the ranch. I think my grandfather built it for him when he was about thirty and hadn’t moved off. I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but when I was in the army, I missed the old guy. My folks were always busy with their lives. I was simply an accident they had to raise, but Uncle Vern always had time for me.”

Wilkes almost laughed aloud. “Some of his stories go on for days. He can remember every detail about the blizzard of ’72, but can never find his truck keys. Even in his seventies, he’s still the best cowboy around. Last winter we were in the saddle for days during a storm. Heifers were dropping calves in the snow. He found twice the number I did and brought them home to his cabin so the newborns could thaw out. If it’s below freezing, ice forms on the calf’s mouth and he can’t suck.”

She didn’t ask any questions as they turned down the road toward the museum. He guessed he was telling her more information than she wanted to know.

Wilkes expected her to ask about what he’d done in the army, but she didn’t. Which was fine. He’d been telling his stories for so long he wasn’t sure which were memories and which were lies.

An hour with Angie reminded Wilkes of what a boring man he’d become. He’d earned a degree. He’d traveled all over the world, mostly to places no sane man would want to go. But he couldn’t keep a conversation going with this clever woman who had a love for history, a subject he once majored in.

When he pulled up to the only vehicle left in the museum parking lot, he lowered his voice. “Angie, I don’t want to frighten you, but there is a car parked near the entrance with a man sitting in the driver’s seat. Not something we see around these parts. He had to pull off the main road and into weeds to park there.”

She leaned over the console and looked out his window. “I thought I saw it sitting there earlier. It looked like a Mercury Marauder.”

“Could be some guy just pulled over to check his phone messages.”

She shook her head, brushing away her curly hair that had long since tumbled out of the hair band. “No, the car was parked there before dark. I’m surprised you noticed it at night. I barely saw it.”

“There was a time I was trained to notice things out of place. Old habits die hard.” Like now, he thought. He’d never forget the smell of her hair. No hair spray or dye, just fresh as a spring breeze.

Even in the dashboard lights he could see the tension in her face. The car frightened her. Maybe everything frightened her. She’d been afraid of him when they’d met. But in the café, she’d seemed calm.

“Maybe he’s waiting for the museum parking lot to be empty so he can rob the place.” Wilkes doubted his own idea. All the items in the museum were priceless to the folks around here, but they would be a hard sell on an open market.

“Maybe.” She didn’t sound as if she believed him. “Can I ask a big favor?”

“Sure.” If she wanted him to confront the guy in the car, he’d take the .45 in his glove box with him. If the guy was simply checking his messages, he would have stopped at the historical marker a quarter mile back, not in the weeds behind a line of trees. Only, from the marker he wouldn’t have been able to see the front of the museum.

“Would you drive me home?” she whispered. “If he stays here when we leave, I’ll notify the sheriff to watch the museum.”

“And if he follows us, you think he’s looking for you, right?” Wilkes couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble someone who looked so innocent could be in. Cupcake thief? He frowned. Maybe the Mercury belonged to the ex-fiancé who never got over her honey kisses. Maybe Jones changed his mind about the marriage and moving to Texas.

“Right,” she whispered again. “He could be looking for me.”

Wilkes frowned. Damn if her voice in the darkness wasn’t turning him on. “So, I take you home and lose the guy on the way. That’s the plan.”

She nodded. “If he knew where I lived, he’d be waiting for me there.”

Wilkes pulled out of the parking lot and headed through the entrance. The stranger’s car pulled in behind him. He grinned, already knowing exactly where he was going. “How about a tour of the canyon, Angie? Within ten minutes I’ll have him so lost on the trails, it’ll take him till dawn to figure his way out. Once we’re at the bottom, I’ll speed up and lose him.”

Angie turned in her seat so she could look out the back window. She watched the car following them as they took the winding road down into the canyon.

The black car dropped farther behind, probably trying not to be noticed. When Wilkes reached the bottom, he turned off the main road taking first one trail and then another, speeding up on the turns. The black car couldn’t have caught them even if he’d tried. Then Wilkes took a sharp right into a camping area, killed the engine and turned off his lights.

Minutes later the Mercury raced past, barely making the curve.

Wilkes took her hand in the darkness. “He’s gone, Angie. You can breathe now.” His thumb moved over her small fingers in comfort.

After a moment she straightened and pulled her hand away.

Using only the moonlight, Wilkes slowly retraced his path, watching the dark outlines of brush on the sides of the dirt road as his guide. When he made it back to the main road, he flipped the lights on low and drove out of the canyon.

“We lost him,” she whispered near his ear as she watched out the back window.

He reached over and brushed her cheek lightly. “And we know two things. One, he’s not planning to rob the museum, and two, he is looking for either me or you.”

“Do people ever chase you?” she asked.

“Never.” He turned his head slightly. For a moment he just breathed her in.

Then, slowly, she turned those summer-green eyes at him, and he had no doubt Angie guessed what he was doing. She shifted back in her seat without a word.

He turned his eyes back to the road and felt like an idiot. They weren’t a couple of teenagers on a first date. He was simply helping the curator out.

Twenty minutes later they were at her cabin. He grabbed a flashlight from the backseat and climbed out of the car a few seconds behind her. She could follow his flashlight beam as he circled the house, then returned to the car. Angie stood and held up her hand as he walked toward her. “Thank you, but you don’t have to walk me to the door.”

Wilkes closed his fingers around her raised hand and lowered it to her side as if he were opening an invisible gate latch. “I was checking the perimeter to make sure no one has been here.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

Wilkes studied her outline in the shadows. She had the sexiest whisper without even trying. If he were a blind man, he’d fall for her with that voice alone, and the way she smelled and how her kiss tasted and the soft feel of her skin. Hell, if he’d been a blind man, he might not notice that she was too short.