The Counterfeit Cowgirl (16 page)

“Thanks, Suzi. Just make sure nobody tells him anything.” She clicked off the phone and despite her best efforts to hide her dismay, found Aaron regarding her thoughtfully. “Yes?”

“It’s Gary Carlisle, right? He’s still looking for you.” Aaron took her hand and led her down the hall to show her the bedrooms. “What do you think stirred him up?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me to find out he has a contact in the Nashville Police Department who’s keeping him updated on the status of the charges against him,” Felicity said. “Mama is still hot on his trail.” She sighed and added, “It’s no good talking to her. The only thing that’ll calm her down is time, and time is not on his side. He can’t get a job or even drive around without risking arrest, so I can’t blame him for being upset.”

“He should have thought of that before he arranged that stupid stunt of his,” Aaron said, frowning. “Sorry, honey. I’m with your mother on this one.”

“Like I said, I won’t get anywhere talking to her, so he’s wasting his time calling me.” Felicity shrugged. “His best bet is to move, preferably to another country, but at least to some state she rarely performs in … like Alaska.”

Aaron chuckled and opened the door to a plainly furnished bedroom that boasted two twin beds with identical blue bedspreads. “This is your bedroom for the night. I’m putting the boys across the hall.”

Felicity entered the room while Aaron placed her tote on one of the beds. The closet door stood open, revealing a neat array of small boys’ shirts and jackets. She peeped inside and saw nothing unusual about the shoes on the closet floor or the suitcases tucked away in the back.

“I don’t suppose there’s a tree just outside the window, or a bush with long branches?” she asked.

“Not a thing,” Aaron said, smiling. “But I’ve got faith in your ability to get to the bottom of this, Miss Clayton.” He took her into his arms. “I’ve got faith in you, period.”

He kissed her, and Felicity found her arms going around his neck with swift, unquestioning desire. How and when had this happened? She wasn’t sure, but she had little doubt as to how it would end. In fact, she looked forward to making love with Aaron Whitaker with so much enthusiasm, it scared her.

She trembled in his arms and wondered if now would be a good time to point out the proximity of a bed.

“Are you going to bed yet, Felicity?” Joey called from the hall.

Aaron let her go, grinning wryly. “I was just showing her the bedroom, Joey. I’m sure she’s about ready for a good night’s rest, after falling into your ghost trap today.”

Felicity looked at the bed, resigned. If she couldn’t make love with Aaron, then she might as well get some sleep, and if she was really lucky, she would solve the mystery of the ghost at some time during the night.

“The sooner we turn out all the lights, the sooner we can get started in solving our ghost problem,” she agreed. “Professional ghost-hunters who go to bed early have a better chance of getting the ghost.”

• • •

“Felicity. Felicity.”

She jolted awake. Joey had crawled into bed beside her and shook her arm frantically.

“He’s here,” Pete whispered. He climbed on the other side of the bed. “Can you hear him?”

Felicity listened, but the bedroom was silent except for the rapid panting of the frightened little boys.

“What are you two doing in here?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be asleep in the bedroom across the hall.”

“We wanted to be sure you were okay and see if you had caught the ghost yet,” Pete explained. “Then, just as we came in, we heard him.”

She sat up. A night light at the far end of the bedroom cast its glow over that corner. She turned her head and noted that her little clock said it was three in the morning. The room appeared empty except for the three occupants of Felicity’s bed.

“Maybe he heard us.” Pete shivered and moved a little closer to Felicity.

“Shhhhh.” Joey clutched her arm.

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard something move in the quiet bedroom. She leaned forward and listened for all she was worth. The lace that lined the neck of her sleep-shirt almost fluttered with the force of her own rapid breathing.

A strange scraping sound came from the closet. Felicity felt the hair on the back of her neck lift gently and admitted to herself that there was something truly spooky about the faint whispering sounds coming from the closet. She had hoped to discover a branch brushing against the window during the wee hours of the night, or maybe even hear the whispering of a distant radio or television set, but this sound indicated life and movement.

Something alive occupied that closet.

Or something that had once been alive and was now dead. The hair on the back of her neck levitated a little higher.

Joey whimpered.

Pete clutched her arm. “It’s the ghost.”

They sat in dead silence for a few minutes, listening intently. The boys’ terrified breathing sounded so loud in the dead stillness of the night, Felicity wondered how any ghost that wasn’t deaf could keep from hearing them.

Strange whispering sounds, followed by a peculiar squeak, issued from the closet. Felicity listened and stared toward the dark, open closet in the semi-darkness. No wonder the two little boys had thought the ghost was talking to them.

More whispering issued forth, followed by a weird and rhythmic scratching sound.

The closet door stood open. She had opened it herself, while the two little boys watched, on the grounds that the ghost wouldn’t be able to hide in there. The idea had sounded good in a fully lit bedroom full of people, but in the darkness, with only the protection of two small boys, Felicity seriously considered leaping up and slamming the closet door shut, as she sped by on her way out the bedroom door.

She reached for the lamp on the bedside table. A little more light on the subject …

More squeaking and whispering came from amidst the clothes and shoes, along with the rustling of a newspaper or paper bag. The boys clutched her arms hard enough to cut off her circulation and plastered themselves against her.

“Okay, ghost. Come out of there with your hands up,” she said to the closet in a low, shaky voice. “We should warn you, we’re armed.”

The sounds ceased. They waited with bated breath, staring at the black void of the open closet door. Felicity gathered her wits and prepared herself to face down whatever was lurking in the closet. What else could she do, with the two little boys expecting her to save them?

While she climbed slowly off the bed, Pete grabbed for the bottle of garlic powder sitting on the bedside table and frantically unscrewed the lid.

The bedroom door swung gently open and Aaron looked in.

“What’s going on in here?” Aaron asked. “You boys are supposed to be in bed across the hall.”

“Uncle Aaron,” Joey whispered. “It’s the ghost. He’s in the closet.”

Aaron stepped inside, but before he could open his mouth, something rustled loudly inside the closet. Startled, he swung toward it and flicked on the overhead light.

Something shot out of the closet — something small, fast, and gray. Pete shrieked and threw the opened bottle of garlic powder in the general direction of the gray streak.

The “ghost” darted across Aaron’s feet and out the bedroom door. Startled, Aaron jumped aside. The bottle of garlic powder struck the wall beside him and spread the fragrant spice liberally over his shoulders in a grainy shower.

There was a moment of breathless, thoughtful silence. Felicity stared at the door and at Aaron, then checked surreptitiously to make sure her sleep-shirt hadn’t hiked up.

“Nice shot, Pete,” Aaron said and looked at Felicity. “Your bedroom and I both smell like chicken cacciatore.”

“As I always say, no ghost can abide the presence of garlic in any form.” Felicity peered in the direction the “ghost” had fled in an attempt to hide her still-racing heart and shattered nerves.

“Well, Felicity, I see you successfully smoked out the ghost,” Aaron said. “I have to admit, you know your stuff.”

Felicity collapsed onto the bed and struggled to maintain her cool. “You bet, cowboy. That’s what ghost-busters are for, you know.”

He wore black pajama bottoms and nothing else. Her mouth went dry just looking at him. His chest was broad and covered with thick, curling hair that called for her touch. For a moment, she wished the two little boys were sleeping soundly across the hall.

Aaron blew garlic powder off his bare arm. The movement made the muscles in his arms move in an utterly fascinating way. “You might try and train your assistant not to throw garlic on the living.”

“Sorry. We were somewhat excited at the moment.” She lifted her brows. “Are you afraid we might mistake you for a big chuck of chicken cacciatore and take a bite?”

“Felicity said that if any garlic touches the ghost, it’ll make him vanish fast,” Pete said, panting with residual fright. “And he did, didn’t he, Uncle Aaron?”

“I’d say it was the light coming on that made this particular ghost vanish.” Aaron came into the room and bent to peer into the depths of the closet. “Let’s see what he found so interesting in here.”

Felicity stared covetously at his back. It was as tanned and muscular as his front. He bent forward and reached toward the back of the closet, moving aside the suitcases and the shoes.

Aaron turned suddenly. He caught her staring and grinned knowingly. Felicity felt her face heat up. He held up a small paper sack that had a large hole chewed in it. “Well, boys, which one of you is hiding peanuts in the closet?”

There was a moment of silence then Joey spoke up. “They’re my peanuts, Uncle Aaron. I forgot where I put them.” He moved cautiously to the edge of the bed. “Do ghosts eat peanuts?”

“Ghosts don’t, but rats do,” Aaron said. “There’s nothing a rat likes better than peanuts.”

Felicity exhaled and wondered if the weakness in her limbs and the continued rapid flutter of her heartbeat were due to the rat’s appearance, or to Aaron’s.

“That’s what made those weird whispering sounds you kept hearing,” she explained to the children. “It was the rat chewing on the peanut shells in order to get to the peanuts inside. The rustling sounds you heard came from the paper sack the peanuts were in.”

Joey and Pete regarded the open bag of peanuts with interest. Then they looked at the garlic powder Pete had thrown over the floor and Aaron.

“The garlic powder must have scared off the real ghost,” Joey said.

Felicity and Aaron looked at each other, dismayed.

“It wasn’t the real ghost,” Pete said, to their astonishment. “It’s like Uncle Aaron says. We thought the rat was the ghost because it kept making weird noises, and we couldn’t see what it was.” He stared at the paper sack in Aaron’s hands with his small brow wrinkled in deep thought.

“You’re right, Pete,” Aaron said encouragingly. “When you can’t see what’s making a strange sound in the middle of the night, it’s scary. Turning on a light does a lot to solve the problem.”

“Yes,” Pete said, and his little face brightened. “Can Joey and I each have our own flashlight, Uncle Aaron? Then we can shine them on the ghost if he bothers us again.”

Joey added his voice to Pete’s in favor of the flashlights.

“I’ll get you both a flashlight first thing tomorrow.” Aaron gave Felicity a wry glance. “In the meantime, let’s let Felicity go back to bed, and you two had better do the same. Now that this particular ghost has been busted, everyone should be able to sleep well the rest of the night.”

“You see?” Felicity asked the room at large. “When you have a competent ghost-buster on the scene, supernatural problems are solved immediately.”

“You don’t know how much I appreciate your kindness to my sons,” Deborah said at the breakfast table the next morning, as she buttered a piece of cinnamon toast. “Aaron and I have been at such a loss to deal with this ghost idea.”

Felicity sipped coffee and gazed out the window at the flat, grassy pastures where Aaron’s purebred, red cows grazed peacefully. She wore slim blue jeans with red-fringed boots and a red shirt trimmed with denim that she had chosen with Aaron in mind.

Alas, Aaron had already left for his office, taking Pete and Joey with him. Her own disappointment surprised her. She wondered what he’d look like across the breakfast table from her then told herself she was an idiot for even allowing the thought to cross her mind.

“I think they’ve decided the ghost is what drove them from their own home.” Felicity decided on bluntness. “Their lives were totally disrupted, and the ghost gives them a really good reason for the disruption.”

Deborah paled and almost dropped her toast. “Do you think so?”

“Judging from what they told me the day I found them hiding in my closet, yes.” Felicity decided she might as well tell Deborah the whole truth whether Aaron liked it or not. “You probably need to sit down with your sons and talk to them about why you’ve brought them here.”

If possible, Deborah turned even paler. “Aaron warned me I needed to be truthful with the boys, but I just can’t. Not yet.” Her beautiful, blue eyes filled with tears. “It’s so hard for me to talk about … about — ”

“I’m sure it must be,” Felicity soothed. “But you don’t have to go into any kind of detail, you know. You can just tell them that you and their father have decided to live apart for a little while.”

Deborah dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. Felicity remained silent and slathered butter and strawberry preserves on a slice of toast.

“What makes you think your husband might kidnap the children?” Felicity asked at last.

“He said … ” Deborah’s voice trailed off, suspended by tears. “He said he was going to come get them and make me come back home if I wanted to be with them.”

Felicity frowned. “I think that’s just what he meant. He wants you to come back home. If there is a good reason why you can’t go back, then you need to tell the boys what it is.”

“That’s what Aaron says,” Deborah choked, trembling visibly. “But he doesn’t realize how angry Tony can get, or what he’ll do. That’s why I’m so afraid he’ll kidnap the boys.”