Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set (6 page)

His eyes flickered with the memory, then his
gaze shifted across the small field separating them from a forest
of Aspens. “And you take my word over his? He was a business owner,
an upstanding, well-respected pillar of the community.”

For all the hurt and anger in his voice, she
heard an underlying ring of hope.

“I had another dream last night.” Her soft
statement drew his gaze to hers again. “Tell me what happened that
day,” she requested. “I want to hear it in your words.”

“Why? Why do you even care?”

“You’ve existed in the shadow of lies long
enough. After all these years, isn’t it time someone knew the
truth?”

Andrew blinked before sliding his gaze
away.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked.

“I was a damn fool.”

He shot to his feet and raked both hands
through his hair as he paced before her.

“Did you love her?”

He appeared surprised by the question,
making Melanie dread his answer even more. Finally, he lifted a
shoulder and said, “Back then, I would’ve said yes without
hesitating. Now, I can honestly say I loved the idea of Lorena more
than anything else. She possessed the refinement of the women back
home, yet she had a wild streak that I found so exciting. I thought
I’d found the woman of my dreams…until that day at the bank.”

“She was very beautiful,” Melanie
murmured.

“Yes,” he agreed without emotion. “And
cunning. She rode into town with her father that morning and we’d
arranged to meet at the bank so I could take her to lunch. When I
stepped into Jacob’s office, Tucker grabbed Lorena and held her at
gunpoint as Jacob emptied the safe. When he was done, Tucker shoved
the bags at me, told me to ride the hell out of town and meet him
at Rockledge Pass where he’d exchange Lorena for the money. She
looked so frightened, pleading with her eyes for me to save
her.”

“She was a good actress.”

Andrew continued as if he hadn’t heard her.
“Jacob must’ve had second thoughts. Or he was making it real, I
don’t know, but he drew his gun on Tucker.”

“And you seized your opportunity.”

“Yes, I—” Andrew spun around to stare at
her, his gray eyes stormy with confusion. “I…what? What did I do,
Melanie?”

“You hit him. Hard. Knocked him on his ass.
The gun went off, Lorena screamed. You were terrified she’d been
shot, but had to make sure Tucker was down.”

“How…?”

“When you knocked Tucker out, Lorena grabbed
the money and ran. Shocked and betrayed, you went after her. You’d
almost caught her when the little girl fell into the river. As you
kicked free of the stirrups, the bullet hit you, piercing your
right lung. You used the last of your strength to save her, but no
one saved you. Not one single person would reach out to help
you.”

A deep breath restored her depleted oxygen
after the torrent of words.

Andrew sank onto his knees in front of her,
anguish in his eyes. “You dreamt all that?”

She swallowed hard and wiped the tears she
just now realized streaked down her cheeks. “I lived every moment.
I felt your anger. Your desperation. Your pain.”

Andrew lifted his hand toward her, then
hesitated and dropped it back to his thigh. “I am so sorry,
Melanie. I do not understand this connection—why you would be made
to experience such a terrible thing. I would never want to cause
you pain.”

One more tear slid down her cheek as she
gave a tremulous smile. “My great-great-great-grandmother’s name
was Vanessa Brisbane.”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. His
nostrils flared as his chest expanded.

“She married in 1870 and moved from
Lindeman’s Crossing to Milwaukee, Wisconsin.”

“You are Vanessa’s granddaughter?” he
breathed in wonder.

“Third generation, yes.”

He sat back on his heels. “I watched her
grow up—looked forward to every time she came to town with those
wild, red curls framing her beautiful little face and those amazing
green eyes.”

His gaze traveled over Melanie’s face.

“Just like yours. I see the resemblance now.
I missed her so much when she left. She was the one bright spot in
those first years when my soul was so dark.”

Melanie ached to touch him, but twice now
he’d shied away from her, so she kept her hands in her lap. “I
think I was meant to feel what you went through to save her, what
you sacrificed. And now I also know what I need to do. I’m going to
tell the world what really happened.”

He looked away, across the field again.“The
world isn’t going to care what happened to me.”

“I’ll make sure they care. John and I
already spoke yesterday—he plans to investigate what happened to
Jacob, see if he can find any proof of his involvement. Anyone who
learns the history of this town will know the truth of what you
did.”

He shifted around to sit with his back
against the tree. “John’s a good man—distant relative,
actually.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Melanie sensed a change in him. If she had
to define it, she’d say he seemed relieved. She frowned. No, not
the right word.

Drawing up one leg, he rested his forearm on
his knee and brushed the palm of his other hand over the short-cut
blades of grass in the foot or so of space between them.

“It tickles.”

She realized he was talking about the grass.
Touching it. Feeling it.

“And it’s cool,” he added. “I can feel the
moisture.”

Peaceful
. That’s the word. The
sensation resonated in his voice, seeped from his aura into
hers.

He looked up suddenly and all thoughts of
peace fled from her mind. She’d never seen his eyes darker, and
when he spoke, his low voice soothed her tender heart.

“It started yesterday when you touched my
arm. I was so startled by your words about the river being cold
that feeling your touch didn’t fully register until after you’d
left with John.”

She smiled slightly. “It was rather
shocking.”

His gaze held her captive; started her heart
on a race without a finish line.

“I want to touch you, Melanie.”

All she could manage was a nod.

The muscles in his throat convulsed. “I’m
afraid.”

“Of what?” she asked softly.

“What if everything goes back to the way it
was before?”

Her heart tripped, but she gathered her
courage. “Are you still angry, Andrew?”

He shook his head slowly. “I feel at peace
for the first time in one hundred and...some years. Time doesn’t
seem to matter anymore.”

She took a deep breath and said a silent
prayer. “Then I believe, whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

He rose to his feet. When he extended his
arm to assist her up, she glanced first at his hand, then his
vulnerable smile. Raising her own hand, she slipped her fingers
into his. The warmth of them curled around hers, gripped, and
lifted her to her feet as if she were a feather. A tingle worked
its way along the length of her arm and spread through her entire
body.

He raised their hands, fit them palm against
palm, then intertwined their fingers. Their heartbeats pulsed
together in perfect rhythm, gradually increasing in speed the
longer they stared at each other. Melanie realized she held her
breath at the moment Andrew spoke.

“Forgive me if I am too forward, but…I would
very much like to kiss you right now.”

She willed her lungs to work, inadvertently
inhaling his musky scent. “I thought you would never ask.”

His slow, confidence-infused smile took her
breath away all over again. His other hand rose to her face and his
knuckles brushed lightly against her cheek before he threaded his
fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck. He lowered his
head, gray eyes mesmerizing.

The touch of his lips against hers sent a
jolt clear to her toes.

He kissed her as a gentleman of 1860. She
closed her eyes and kissed him back as a modern woman who knew what
she wanted and had waited too long for the real thing. Andrew
stiffened at her boldness, but when she began to pull back, his
arms drew her tight against him. She felt every inch of his length,
reveled in the lean hardness of him. Passion flared as he took
possession of her mouth without holding anything back.

He was more man than she’d ever dreamed of,
and in that moment, she knew without a doubt she’d fallen in
love.

His lips gentled, passion giving way for a
tenderness that swelled her heart near to bursting. When he lifted
his head and gazed down at her with the emotion of her heart
shining in his eyes, tears blurred her vision.

“Melanie…I…”

She blinked rapidly to clear the moisture.
She wanted to see his face when he said
I love you
.

Only he still didn’t come in clear. Lifting
a hand, she quickly dashed any lingering tears from her lashes,
then stared as her heart plummeted. She could see through him.

“Andrew?” Fear and confusion raised her
voice an octave higher than normal.

His hand lifted to her cheek, but all she
felt was a faint brush of air.

“Melanie, it’s okay.”

“No.” She shook her head, then repeated more
firmly, “No.”

He smiled at her, sad and reassuring at the
same time.

Anger stirred within her. She clenched her
fists and glared up at the heavens. “Not now! You can’t take him
yet! Not now that I’ve finally—”

“Melanie.”

Andrew’s gentle voice cut through her
anguish. She looked back at him and was relieved to see he’d
stopped fading away. He now stood before her, brighter than ever
before.

“From the bottom of my heart, I thank
you.”

And then he was gone. Disbelief warred with
cruel reality. Melanie dropped to her knees as fresh tears
flowed.

I love you
.

Her head jerked up at the sound of his
voice. She whirled around, but saw nothing other than the mountains
and the trees and the tombstones—

The tombstone!

With her heart beating frantically, she
rushed to his grave and touched the granite.
Cool
. No, not
just cool—
cold
. She flattened her palm over his name,
willing it to warm beneath her touch.

She remembered his dry remark about her
summoning him. Yes, damn it, that’s exactly what she was doing
now.

“Andrew? Please.”

But by the time darkness fell, she had to
face the fact that Andrew would not return that night. The stone
remained cold and the air had turned chilly as well. She made her
way home with a heavy heart and crawled into bed to await the
dawn.

Something had changed with their kiss. That
wonderful, beautiful, soul-melding kiss. But the way he’d said,
“Thank you,”
—she feared she’d never see Andrew’s ghost
again.

Melanie called in sick to work for the first
time in twelve years. One day. She’d give herself one day to mourn
her loss and then she’d have to move on with her life. The only way
she could be so stoic about the situation was to keep reminding
herself that Andrew had assured her all was okay.

His soul had found peace, as it should. As
he deserved.

Today, she planned to go to the cemetery for
a final goodbye, then find John to talk about her idea of writing
the book. She would not go back on her word to Andrew that the
world would know the truth about what happened. She already knew
the title:
If Tombstones Could Talk
. No longer would the
local historical society debate good and evil in the name of Andrew
Lindeman.

The walk to the cemetery took forever and
yet did not give her enough time to prepare. Hoping against hope,
she halted beneath the giant red oak and knelt beside the
tombstones. She felt the plain rock first.
Cold
. But it
always had been. It was the other stone, the tall one placed with
her family’s love that had always warmed with his presence.

Her hand trembled as she reached
forward.

She traced the A in Andrew, then flattened
her palm over his name. Nothing happened. Head hung low, she kept
her hand there and said a prayer for his soul. She’d expected
tears, even brought tissues, but her eyes remained dry. Her heart
hurt, but not as bad as she’d thought. Knowing he finally rested in
peace eased the ache.

She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there,
but suddenly the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on
end.

“I hoped you’d come back.”

Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of his
deep, sexy voice directly behind her. Holding her breath, she rose
to her feet and slowly turned around. “I had to say good—”

She stared in shock. Her hand reached of its
own accord, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to touch.

“My God,” she whispered. “What…how?”

He lifted his arm—his flesh and blood
arm—and stroked her cheek. His thumb brushed her mouth, parting her
lips as he stepped closer. “I’m just going with the flow here.”

His head dipped, and she rose on her tiptoes
to meet him halfway. He urged her arms up around his neck, then
skimmed his hands down across her back to pull her tight against
him. As his seeking tongue parted her lips and caressed hers, he
lifted her off her feet in a slow turn. His heat burned her inside
and out, her softer curves molding to his hard contours.
Yesterday’s kiss had been amazing; this one was pure heaven.

Though she didn’t want the magic to end, she
finally leaned back in his arms and gazed deep into his slate-gray
eyes.

“Andrew…before I lose my chance…I mean, if
you were to go away again, I want you to know—”

He silenced her with another kiss. “You set
my soul free. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Much as I pray that’s true, you don’t know
that for sure. After what happened yesterday—”