Northern Star (25 page)

The same facts kept somersaulting in her mind. Hunter would be married in three days. He’d marry without her
ever seeing him again. She’d never tell him who she was or what his cousin, Wade, had done to her. She’d never speak of how much just knowing he existed had changed her life, her dreams. She must live her life without ever feeling his touch again, without ever hearing the funny way her name rolled off his Northern tongue.

Tears bubbled over her eyelashes and ran down icy cheeks. She walked without direction, lost in thought. There was something wild within her that wanted to run to him no matter what the cost. But the cost of his rejection would be too much for her to endure. He loved another. He planned to marry another.

When she dried her eyes enough to look around, she recognized the back gate of Hunter’s home. Crumbling on a low bench by the stable door, she studied the house, secure in the knowledge that no one could see her in the darkness. Knowing that Hunter was inside brought her both joy and pain. She closed her eyes and let the icy wind rock her as she pressed against the wood, pretending she was somehow closer to the only man who’d ever touched her with tenderness and love.

*   *   *

The same wind that comforted Perry blew directly into Hunter’s face as he rode down an alley a mile away. He swung around the corner and stopped to check his watch in the yellow glow of the streetlight. Ten minutes late, but the note had been vague, saying only “After midnight.”

Hunter couldn’t believe he’d let himself get into such a predicament. Three days before his wedding and he was waiting outside Jennifer’s house like a thief. He slid from his horse and tied the animal to the iron fence that surrounded her property. He’d give whoever left the note fifteen minutes, and that was all. The whole thing was probably a joke, someone’s idea of a prank. But the words sounded so desperate. “Wait behind Jennifer’s stairs after midnight. Matter of life and death.”

Hunter knew sleep would elude him tonight, as it did every night. So, letting curiosity get the better of him, he’d decided to make this midnight ride, even if it were for naught.

Passing through the unlocked gate into a small garden below Jennifer’s balcony, Hunter’s nerves tightened. He strolled toward a stairway that permitted Jennifer to visit her garden without traveling through the rest of the house. The trees lining the boundary of her garden shadowed his presence as he waited in the cold darkness, wishing he’d ignored the note. But the note took the edge off his restless mind. At least tonight he’d be fighting the cold and not some dream woman who loved him only in his mind. Tonight the wind would cool the passion in his blood that boiled each time he dreamed of his raven-haired angel whose body was soft and yielding.

A carriage slowly approached along the deserted street just beyond the gate. Hunter sank farther into the shadows, waiting, vowing to forget this mystery and return home as soon as the carriage passed.

However, the carriage didn’t pass but creaked to a halt at the gate. A young couple, locked together in an embrace, climbed out. They moved through the gate and to the foot of the stairs only a few feet from where Hunter was standing. The couple held each other in a long, passionate kiss and Hunter shifted uneasily. He couldn’t see her face, but she must be Jennifer’s maid. Who else would be climbing those stairs at such an hour?

With a sigh the young blonde girl pulled away and ran up several steps. When the lamp light touched her face, Hunter’s body jerked slightly, as though his nerves had been snapped like a whip. The muscles along his jawline tightened as he fought to remain rooted in place. His knuckles whitened, his leather gloves twisting into fists. The clear view of his fiancée showed in the moonlight.

Jennifer’s whisper drifted like smoke through the air. “No further, Richard. I must go up.”

The young man braved a few steps. “Oh, please, Jennifer, let me come up for a few hours?”

“No, not tonight. I don’t want the maid coming in on us again.” Jennifer’s soft laughter was like a sword scraping the stone into which Hunter’s heart had just hardened.

“But I won’t see you for weeks,” Richard begged again.

“Of course you will, darling.” Jennifer’s voice was all sweetness. “As soon as I get back from my honeymoon, I’ll send word.”

“But, Jennifer, don’t you see? Everything will be changed after you’re married.”

“Nonsense, Richard. The only thing that will change is that I’ll have more money to spend on you. Hunter’s always going off for days with that silly balloon, anyway.”

Her words grated against Hunter’s pride. She wouldn’t have been in such a joyous mood had she seen the stormy gray eyes that watched her as she told of all the things she planned to buy her lover with Hunter’s money. He remained in the shadows, fighting for control as his blood pulsed through his temples with a powerful force.

“Before I go,” Richard begged in a whiny voice that contrasted with his good looks, “say you love me once more.”

“I love you, I love you, God help me. You’re a worthless leech, but no man will ever make me feel the way you do.” Passion throbbed in Jennifer’s voice as she touched her lover’s cheek with a gloved hand.

Richard captured her fingers and pulled them to his lips. “And you, my lovely lady, are a heartless goddess who delights in having everything her way.”

They both laughed as Richard moved up the few steps and once again embraced her. Neither seemed to notice the cold, but Hunter suddenly felt it to his very core. He watched as they ended the kiss and ran up the stairs to Jennifer’s room, too consumed with their passion even to look back at the garden.

Hunter stood in the shadows, struggling to control his
anger. His first impulse was to storm up the stairs and strangle both Jennifer and her whiny lover. But another feeling mixed with the anger, cooling it like an icy breeze. The feeling, to Hunter’s surprise, was relief. He couldn’t explain why, but a burden he’d been unaware of was now lifted from his shoulders. He’d carried it so long, the weight had gone unnoticed. Now he was free of her, free of the chain of honor that bound him to her. He was angrier at himself for being such a fool than at her for having a lover. He’d always found it hard to talk with or understand women. Jennifer had pushed their relationship inch by inch for years, as if with some detailed plan of attack. She no more loved him than he did her.

Perhaps he should go up and thank poor Richard?

Laughing aloud, he ran to where his horse was tied. As he swung atop his mount a figure moved among the trees. A lean form slipped from shadow to shadow, visible for only a moment. Someone else was in the garden. Someone else had seen Jennifer. And now that someone moved to watch him. Instinctively Hunter knew the other had penned the note he’d received. The informant was waiting to see the outcome of his act.

Kicking the horse into a run, Hunter turned toward home. He didn’t want to share his new knowledge with another, be he friend or foe. Tomorrow would be time enough to deal with Jennifer. Tonight he wanted to be alone to sort out his feelings and file them neatly away, as he had done since his mother had died. File them away so no one could touch him, so no one could hurt him.

As he reached the boundary of his property Hunter jumped from his horse. His hand instinctively swung wide to open the stable door and be done with this night and its secrets.

He froze in mid-step as his fingers touched the cold flesh of another hand resting against the door facing.

He pulled the hand toward him and a woman stepped from the shadows. She faced him, unafraid, as though
they’d touched a hundred times before and she’d never known fear. The shadows were thick but Hunter knew her. The same woman who always came to him in his dreams. The only woman who had ever touched his life, his heart, his passion.

Drawing her into his arms, Hunter let his mind believe that she was real. She made not the slightest protest as he lifted her off the ground in his embrace. There were a million questions he wanted to ask her, but all he could think about was how her lips would feel against his own. He lowered his mouth to her cold lips and warmed them with his passion. To his wonder she opened her mouth to his hungry tongue without any hesitation.

Hunter’s voice was so low, it seemed a thought that passed between them. “How did you know I needed you so desperately tonight?” He gently stroked her hair. “Just when I was about to give up on all beauty, all love in the world, you appear again.”

He kicked the stable door open and stepped out of the icy wind. The shed was black with night and thick with the smell of fresh hay. He wanted to see her better, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from her, even to search the darkness for a lantern. “Shall I find a light?” he whispered against the wonder of her hair.

Her answer was in the brush of her lips against his throat. “Hold me,” she whispered.

Her small hands slid up the front of his coat, her fingers twisting around his lapels. They needed no light. How many times he’d dreamed of her near, so soft, so willing in his arms. He knew her features by touch as perfectly as an artist knows his model before he paints.

“If you are only a dream,” he whispered, “then dreams will be my only reality in this lifetime.”

Pulling off her cap, he moved his hands slowly over the rich wool of her dress. Her hair was the silk he remembered, and the curve of her waist was the perfection of
which he’d dreamed. “You’ll not run away from me tonight, my dream. I need you too much.”

She didn’t answer but only traced her fingers along the arc of his shoulders, as though she’d longed for the feel of him as dearly as he had for her.

Hunter pulled the ribbon binding her hair and buried his face in its fullness. “Lord, how I need you.” He flung her cap over a pile of straw and eased her onto it. The smells blended in his mind with another time, when she’d held him and warmed him as death fought for his soul. He’d loved her then, from the moment she’d kissed his forehead with a prayer for his life.

In the silence of the midnight hour he lay beside her, slowly covering her face with kisses. As he reached the warm flesh of her throat his fingers unbuttoned her dress. The tiny pearl buttons gave way and he slid the wool aside to reveal the thin, silky cloth of her chemise. He spread his fingers wide, loving the warmth of her flesh, with only a light curtain of material between them. He’d always been a reasonable man, but the feel of her in his arms made him know the pure joy of madness for a moment.

He could feel her body move beneath his hand, straining for his touch. He lowered his face to her shoulders, pushing the material aside as he tasted her skin. There was so much that they might have said, but he was starving for her nearness. Touch would have to be his words, and passion the only language spoken between them. He wanted to make love to her more than he wanted life, but tonight he needed the feel of her next to him. He needed not to be alone for a few moments in a life where he seemed always alone.

She seemed to understand, for her hands moved over his shoulders and into his hair. Her fingers stroked his temple, then moved to trace his lips with a feather-light touch. He found himself whispering words of need he’d never told another.

Pressing her body against his, she answered his cry with
kisses that knew no restraint. His mind whirled as he felt the beauty of her in his arms, a beauty so great that he knew he’d never find it in reality. He buried his face against her soft breast as his hand slid up her boot to touch the bare leg beneath her skirts. If this was the joy of dreams, the pleasure of insanity, may he never see reality again.

His angel jerked suddenly. “Hunter!” she whispered in her soft Southern voice as she pulled his face close to her lips. “There’s someone outside!” He could feel the fear in her body as she curled away from him.

Hunter glanced toward the fence and saw the shadow of a man move in the moonlight. The same shadow he’d seen in Jennifer’s garden, a lifetime of emotions ago. Hunter held her trembling hand. “Do you know who he is?”

“I’m not sure,” she whispered. “I must go!”

“No!” Hunter answered, but she pulled away and backed into the corner of the shed.

A twig snapped in the shadows and he heard her soft cry of fear. Hunter bolted toward the intruder, resenting this eavesdropping far more than he had earlier in the garden.

He ran toward the shadow. But when he reached the fence, the shadow had vanished. And when he returned to the barn, so had his angel.

Molly’s restaurant opened as Molly’s Place during a downpour that should have spelled disaster for a first night, but the dining rooms were packed with the curious. The rumors that Molly was a reformed lady of the streets might have drawn some in, but the fine cooking kept them through course after course.

The room had been freshly polished and cleaned until the candlelight glowed off the wood and silver. The furnishings were simple, almost elegant, in design and the prices were fair. Each bolt of lightning from the storm seemed to bring yet another carriage up the drive.

Luke, now wearing a white shirt and dark suit, stood proudly as doorman. He opened the door and seated each guest with a silent dignity while keeping a sharp eye out for any ruffians.

At midnight, with the last guest departed, Molly, Luke, and Perry finally collapsed over a final cup of coffee in Perry’s small office. After paying for the food and salaries of the cooks and waiters, there was still a tidy sum stacked atop the desk.

Luke beamed with pride. “It was a good night. Most folks could barely waddle to their carriages.”

“Reminds me of my working days.” Laughter bubbled
from Molly’s tired body. “No one left without being satisfied.”

The old woman never ceased to amaze Perry. “But in this work you have less trouble with the law,” Perry added.

Molly winked. “You’re right. Plus, it did make me feel good to make a lot of folks happy instead of a few delirious.”

Luke’s full-blown laughter blended with Molly’s chuckles as Perry fought a blush. She busied herself putting bills in a leather-lined box she’d found when cleaning one of the rooms. Deciding it safest to change the subject, she added, “I’ll put the money here for tonight, but if we make this much every night, we will need a strongbox.”