Rustler's Moon (32 page)

Angie had all she could take. She didn’t know if she believed this handsome man or not, but for once in her life she didn’t want to protect her heart. “Shut up, Wilkes, and kiss me again like you did the other night.”

And he did.

He kissed her long and tenderly in the cool shadows of the barn and again on the porch.

He kissed her like no one had ever kissed her. He kissed her better and deeper than she’d even imagined in her wildest dreams.

“It’s late,” he finally whispered. “I have to let you rest.”

“One more,” she answered, knowing one more would never be enough.

He leaned her against the door and pressed close. “One last kiss.”

But he lied. They made it halfway down the hallway to her room before he pulled her against him and lost control once more.

When she finally pulled away, he took her hand and walked her to her room. “If I touch you again, I won’t be able to leave and you need rest.” Then without a word, he handed her one of his shirts to sleep in and walked away.

Angie closed the door and leaned against it smiling. She knew he would have stayed with her if she’d invited him, but she needed to treasure tonight for a while. Her body could feel his hands still moving over her. He hadn’t tried to take off any of her clothes, but he’d let her know how much he loved touching her. She could feel his strong fingers moving over her hip with a need to pull her closer that shocked and surprised her. Boldly he’d pressed his hand over her breast and circled just below her waist as if promising her there would be a time and a place for more: bolder caresses, longer kisses, deeper loving.

He was waking her to desire. After the heat of his body, she was left cold when she stepped away. She wanted to return to his arms and never run again.

He hadn’t tried to talk her into anything. He’d simply shown her how he felt about her.

Standing behind the door, Angie knew she couldn’t move. If she did, she’d be running down the hallway to his room, begging him to hold her for just a little longer.

The words he’d whispered seemed to move through her, warming her blood. “I love touching you,” he’d whispered over and over. “I love the feel of you. I love the fire in your eyes when I do this.”

As she remembered every word, she could almost feel him pressing against her as his hands moved from her hair all the way down her back. He made no effort to hide his need for her, but he never pushed for more than she willingly gave.

And when he’d kissed her at the door, he’d whispered, “Thanks for letting me know perfection.”

He’d said it as if she’d given him a gift and not the other way around. She’d started to argue, and he’d closed his mouth over hers and given her one last long kiss. This time, he’d held her away. Only the kiss. Nothing more. As if one more brush of her body to his would have been more than he could bear.

More than he could resist.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lauren

T
HE
FIRST
LIGHT
of day broke slowly from the east, stealing away at the darkness where Polly and Lauren had hidden all night in the corner of Lauren’s father’s deck. They’d wrapped up in a sleeping bag after Dan had one of the firemen rebandage Polly’s arm and doctor her split lip.

“My body feels as if I fought a long battle during the night, and I’m now so battered and sore I can’t straighten,” Polly whispered with little more than her nose poking out from the zipped-up bag.

Lauren was too tired to open her eyes. “You’re all right, Polly. Just a few bruises. That’s what happens when you fight with a burglar in the dark.” Lauren giggled. “I bet he’s feeling worse this morning than you are. He’s got the imprint of a tire iron across his face.”

“You think I killed him? He could have bled to death.”

Lauren opened one eye and saw solid bruises along Polly’s jaw. “No. He was cussing too loud. And he still had enough brains to drive away before Pop got out there. You, on the other hand, don’t look so good.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I’m fine, by the way. It wasn’t my first fight.”

“Why’d you leave the party? Upset about Reid or just bored?”

Polly swore. “I’m not as messed up as you and Tim think. I swear. Not usually anyway. Last night, after seeing Reid again, maybe I was frustrated. He was so nice to me. When we met before, I thought he was so hot and last night I wondered why. Not my type.”

“Not mine, either.” Lauren giggled. “Reminds me of something I heard Miss Butterfield say about his dad once. She said if he could buy himself for what he was worth and sell himself for what he thought he was worth, he’d make a million.”

Polly groaned. “My head hurts too much to even think about that.”

Lauren sat up so she could see Polly’s face. “I told you last night he’s not worth thinking about.”

“So if he’s a jerk, why did you go out with him? Tim told me Reid was your date to homecoming.”

“I don’t know.” Lauren was too tired to remember. “My brain is as foggy as yours.”

Compared to all Polly went through last night, a date with Reid seemed pretty minor. “Tell me again what happened last night after you left the party.”

“I already told your dad twice.”

“Then tell me,” Tim said as he bounced onto the deck. “You were being patched up by some big fireman before I knew you’d been found. The sheriff told me to go home before he booked me for trespassing.”

Lauren looked at Tim. “What are you doing here? Dad’s right. Don’t you have a home?”

Tim glared at her. “Anybody ever tell you that you sound just like your old man? I woke up early and decided to come over to check on both of you. I didn’t know when you two would be up, but I wanted to be here when you woke. I’ve got a few questions. Like why are you two sleeping on the deck, for one?”

Polly sat up. The moment she moved her arm, she winced in pain.

Lauren gave up on any attempt at sleep. “I’m here because Polly couldn’t sleep in her bed. I had her curl up there while I called Pop. It’s got blood all over it and we were too tired to try to find sheets.”

Tim sat down between their chairs. “Okay, why was she bleeding?”

“The guy who tried to kidnap her twisted her arm and pulled out several stitches. The fireman butterflied them together but it took him a while to stop her nose from dripping red. We couldn’t both fit on the couch, so we collected the sleeping bags and came out here so we couldn’t hear Pop talking on the phone. Evidently he was up most of the night.”

Tim looked at Polly. “Hanging out with you is like visiting the set of
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
. Blood seems to be everywhere.”

“Last night I was starting to think I was in a horror movie. You’re not going to believe what happened.” Polly showed him her new bandage and her split lip. He could see the bruises without any help.

Tim pulled his chair closer to her and said, “Tell me the details, Polly Anna.”

She shrugged. “I got tired of the party and took a walk.”

“What was your state of mind?” Tim asked as if suddenly the psychiatrist in the group.

“I was down. Thinking of jumping in the lake and forgetting to come up. I’m a total screwup. My arm hurt and I couldn’t find anything to drink around this place. Bad night all around.” She glanced at Lauren and they both laughed at Tim’s shocked face.

Tim interrupted their giggling. “Okay, forget your state of mind. Tell us what happened.”

Polly glared at him. “All right, CliffsNotes. About the time I got close to that cabin hidden in the woods, I heard banging. So I took a walk down the road and saw this guy kicking the crap out of the door. But he wasn’t very good. He had on dress shoes and a suit. One sleeve of his jacket was all ripped from where he must have tried to knock out the glass in the window beside the door. It was too thick and all he’d accomplished was a mess of elbow-size holes.

“I should have run, but instead I yelled, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’” She glanced at Lauren. “I thought he’d run or explain what was going on. That’s what they do in movies. But this guy turns around and takes off after me. I make it about twenty or thirty feet before he tackles me. He starts beating on me like I’m a punching bag and asking questions I had no answers to. When he figured out I wasn’t telling him anything, he started dragging me toward his car.”

Tim and Lauren were now on either side of her listening to every word.

Polly smiled, loving the attention. “I had a feeling this guy was going to kill me. I don’t have much reason to live, but I’d be damned before I let this thug take my lousy life away from me. He was dragging me by one leg and complaining about how I was way too much trouble.”

Polly leaned back in the deck chair. “I must have passed out, because when I woke up, I was in total darkness. It didn’t take me long to figure out I was in the trunk of a car. We drove around awhile. Pop says he was probably trying to figure out how to get out of the lake community without going past the sheriff’s house.

“When he stopped and opened the trunk of his Mercury, I think his plan was to keep beating on me until I told him what he wanted to know.”

She giggled. “When Lauren saw us, she yelled my name.” Polly looked at Lauren. “Great strategy by the way. While he was distracted, I hit him with the first thing I found in the trunk. I think I caught him in the eye and nose. Blood went off like an automatic sprinkler on full power.

“Next thing I know, Lauren grabbed my hand and we were off running. When we made it back here, the sheriff took over. He’s probably still out looking for the guy.”

“Shouldn’t you two be all locked up in the house?”

“Pop said the safest place in the area is here at the lake. The volunteer fire department woke up the whole community. The deputies from Bailee have a roadblock at the entrance and are checking every car.”

Polly agreed. “When we first came out, we watched all the lights coming and going. Then I dozed off knowing Lauren would watch over me.”

Lauren shrugged. “It appears to be my job.”

She leaned close to Tim. “Can you take over for a while? I need to make a call.”

She went to the kitchen and dialed Lucas. When she got his voice mail, she whispered, “Sorry I didn’t return your calls. Can we go back to being friends?”

The machine beeped and she closed her phone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Angie

A
NGIE
WOKE
TO
the silence of the country. She’d spent most of the night reliving every moment in the barn with Wilkes. Despite all the trouble, the late picnic dinner was a memory she’d cherish. Wilkes made her feel beautiful.

It was after nine when she made it to the kitchen. Wilkes probably had finished breakfast hours ago and was working in his study. She tiptoed past his door, not wanting to disturb him.

“Morning, beautiful.” He swiveled around and smiled.

“Morning.”

“Make yourself at home in the kitchen. I’ll be finished in a minute, then I’ll drive you to work.” He turned back to his computer.

He was polite during the drive, but the magic of the night before was gone. They talked of the weather and what she had planned for the day, but he didn’t touch her.

Once they got to the museum, he set up a guard station on the second floor of the museum so he could see both her office and the front door. Several of the ladies auxiliary were in the foyer trying to make up their minds on which quilt should go where and what each card should say beside the quilt.

Angie knew she couldn’t say a word to Wilkes without it drifting down to the ladies, so she worked in her office. She usually left at noon on Saturdays, but today she wasn’t sure where to go. If the police were finished looking around her cabin, she probably should go home and start the cleanup.

Absently, she twisted the necklace her father had given her in her hand. He’d told her to take care of it because no matter what happened in life, it would remind her of her mother and him. She did remember her mother wearing the original coin now and then, before they knew how valuable it was.

Having it appraised had probably started the feud between her uncle and father. Her uncle thought it should belong to the family, but her father wouldn’t turn loose of it. Finally, they’d agreed to display it in the store and sell replicas of it.

The day her father placed it in the case, he seemed to say goodbye to the one thing he’d inherited. He never went by to look at it again that she knew about.

Angie stood and placed her copy of the necklace in the old safe at the back of her office. Her one memory of both her father and her mother belonged on a shelf with an old book of the canyon and the bloodstone. The quilts and the fishing gear wouldn’t last forever, but she could pass this down if she ever had a son or daughter.

She pulled the safe almost closed and cried, really cried, for the loss of her parents for the first time. It was no wonder she had trouble knowing what was real or fake about people. Her one treasure from her parents was a fake necklace.

Moving to the window, she tried to get control once more. The beauty of the canyon always calmed her nerves. With each passing day, the feeling of belonging here in this wild land grew inside her.

She didn’t turn as she heard Wilkes walk into her office.

His warm hand slid along her waist. “You all right, Angie?”

I’m fine,” she answered, loving the way she could feel the warmth of him even though he was an inch away. Of course he’d heard her crying in the silence of the museum. And he’d come to comfort her.

His chin rested atop her hair as he stood behind her, pulling her gently back against his chest. “I know you don’t believe it, but all this mess with the stalker will end. He’ll either give up looking or we’ll catch him.”

Leaning into him, she agreed. “I have nothing of value. He’s bound to give up soon.”

Wilkes kissed her temple. “I don’t know about you, but I’m holding something in my arms that I consider of great value. There is a kindness in you, Angie, that amazes me. A loving way that silently pulls me to you.”