Authors: Jodi Thomas
The weapon connected against the side of the man’s face. He fell backward, screaming and swearing. Polly just stood three feet from him staring at him.
“Polly!” Lauren rushed forward and grabbed her roommate’s hand. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
It took several steps, but finally Polly was running with Lauren.
The man’s yelling and cussing raged behind them like rolling thunder.
“Faster,” Lauren said, pulling Polly into the trees on the other side of the road.
“If...he...catches...us...” Polly gulped out a cry.
“He won’t.” Lauren sounded far more determined than she felt. She pulled Polly down and they rolled under a barbed-wire fence. A few feet later they were on the edge where the canyon dropped down toward the lake. Lauren quickly untied Polly’s wrists. The path looked like no more than an incline where water ran off the pasture above.
They slid down the incline to the lake. Branches, left bare of leaves, scratched and tugged at the girls as they worked their way down. Finally, they reached the lake. Hand in hand they ran along the water until they reached the back door of Lauren’s lake house.
Even in the low lights of the deck, Lauren could tell Polly’s bandaged arm was bleeding, and dark bruises were coloring the side of her face. They ran all the way to Polly’s bedroom, damp with sweat even on the cold night.
“Get under the covers,” Lauren said softly. “Do you think you’ll be all right for a minute until I can get help?”
Polly nodded. Blood began to drip across the white sheets, but she didn’t cry. “Thanks for finding me,” she whispered.
“Just rest for a minute. I think we’re safe now.”
Polly’s nod was jerky as if adrenaline still bounced through her body. “I’ll get Pop. I’ll be right back.” Lauren stared, trying to take in all that had happened. “You’re going to be all right, Polly. You put up one hell of a fight. He must have thought you were Angela, but I don’t think he’s going to be bothering anyone again for a long time.”
Polly pulled the covers around her. A grin brushed across her bloody lips. “Go find Pop. I’ll wait.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Angie
W
ILKES
FLEW
DOWN
the dirt road along the back of the dam. He clenched his jaw in concentration and worry. Finally, he turned off on another trail that couldn’t even be called a road. Wilkes crossed over an old cattle guard that rattled as if it might fall apart at any moment, but he kept going.
“Before they built the dam, this was the main way into town,” Wilkes said without expecting her to comment.
No lights from town glowed in the distance. The night seemed to close in around her. She had to keep reminding herself she was going to safety, not hunting danger.
Wilkes slowed. “We’re in the Cottonwood Pasture now. Have to go slow and watch out for cows.”
He was silent for a while, then his voice came low and calm. “If you look up ahead, you can see an old oak mixed in with the cottonwoods. It’s well over a hundred years old. When all the leaves finally fall, you’ll see the thick branches are in the gnarled shape of a fork. That’s why we called the ranch Devil’s Fork.”
Angie knew what he was doing. Trying to calm her. Trying to get her mind off what had happened at the cabin.
“Uncle Vern says that when he was a boy, he knew of several trees around the area that were bent or twisted in strange shapes. He said some of the Plains tribes used them as signposts pointing the way to go. Tribes were nomadic, traveling by the seasons to different camps or to follow the herds of buffalo.”
Angie didn’t want to talk, but she had wondered how on such flat land people could tell directions. On cloudy days it would be hard with no ocean or mountain range, or even hills for as far as a man could see.
She saw the light of his headquarters in the distance.
Doc meowed from the backseat.
“You remembered Doc.” She smiled at Wilkes. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten about the cat.
“I put him back there while you were looking around your cabin. Figured you wouldn’t be staying there tonight, no matter what. When I told Doc he was going back to visit his friends in the barn, he got real excited.”
“We’d better keep him in your house. He might run off.”
“He didn’t run off last time. He was hiding in the barn.” Wilkes met her stare. “Besides, when he sleeps in the house, he wants to share my pillow, and a cat is not who I’m willing to share it with.”
As they pulled into the circle of lights around the house, she saw something in his eyes. A need. A longing like she’d never seen before when a man looked at her. “Are you saying I’m overprotective of Doc?” she managed to ask even though she knew the cat was not on his mind.
“Maybe,” he said as he turned his attention back to parking.
She watched his profile and told herself she’d imagined the way he’d looked at her. Wilkes was probably right about letting Doc out of the house, though.
Angie came from a long family of people who were overprotective. But the world seemed a frightening place. She never rode her bike alone. By the time she could date, she was afraid to go out with boys. Even her aunts always had her call when she left the campus, so they could time her drive home.
Wilkes pulled the car under the pergola attached to his house and walked around to open her door. She slid out just as he neared.
“You want something to eat or drink?” he offered.
She shook her head. “Can we wait out here until the sheriff calls?”
He motioned to an old swing in the corner of the porch. “If I turn off the yard light, we can watch the stars.” While she settled in on the swing, he went inside and grabbed an afghan.
When he sat down beside her, he opened his arms and she cuddled in next to him. It felt so right to be here with him. She felt so protected.
“Angie, I know I was a little early tonight, but why were you still at the museum? I thought we agreed I’d pick you up at the cabin?”
“I would have been there, but I got a call asking if I wouldn’t mind holding the museum open a few minutes later than usual. A man said he wanted to show his wife a picture of his relatives on the Pioneer Wall. I thought it odd, but since the volunteers offered to stay late with me, I agreed. We’d already waited over thirty minutes when you called me from the cabin phone.”
Wilkes was silent for a while, using one boot to rock them both in the swing. The slight tapping sound and the gentle swaying were like the steady beat of a heart, calming her.
“Maybe whoever called asking you to stay open late was the same person who ransacked your place. That way he’d know he had extra time, and he knew where you were.”
“But why? I’ve already given that agent, Dodson, my father’s ledger. He said it would be helpful in the investigation and that was why someone was stalking me. He said that I would be safe now.”
Wilkes tugged her to him. “Go over everything you brought with you. There must be something you have that is worth committing a crime to get.”
Resting her head on his chest, she began. “My mother’s quilts, most of which are old. One set of dishes plus coffee cups I’d collected over the years. My father’s fishing equipment almost too old to use. A pair of pearl earrings I got for graduation. A necklace that is a replica of an old Greek coin. My clothes. Books I’ve kept and loved. My mother’s sewing machine, a featherweight Singer.” She looked up at him. “I can sew, you know.”
“I never doubted it,” he answered with a funny smile as if she’d told a joke.
“Where is the sewing machine?” Wilkes asked.
“I saw it still in the corner of my bedroom.”
“Where is the necklace?”
“I left it in my desk at work. It sometimes gets in my way when I’m leaning over my desk doing detailed work.” She sighed. “That’s all except the food in the fridge. I didn’t have much to pack when I left my parents’ home. I tried to leave as soon as possible.” She couldn’t tell him why. He’d think her a coward, for running away from home, afraid of her own shadow. Afraid of what truth she might find if she looked too deeply.
Angie’s phone rang. “Hello,” she answered tentatively.
“Angela, it’s Dan Brigman.” The sheriff’s voice came through so loud she had no doubt Wilkes could also hear. “We found Polly. She’s safe. You guys all right?”
“We’re fine.” Angie let out a long breath of relief. “What happened to her?”
“How about I fill you in tomorrow? I’ve got my hands full right now. Tell Wilkes to keep close to you and stay armed until we catch whoever got into your place tonight.”
“Will do,” Wilkes answered. His head touched hers as he listened.
The sheriff rang off, and Angie smiled. “The girl’s safe. I’d love to know what happened.”
“I would say call the Franklin sisters, but they’d blow the story up so much, you wouldn’t recognize the truth. I’m guessing she just fell asleep in one of the deck chairs. We’ll hear all about it tomorrow.”
“What about the blood at my place?”
“From the looks of it, the burglar was an amateur. I’m guessing the blood was his.”
Wilkes rocked back and let the swing fly. “You know, all I was hoping for was a dinner with you alone. No excitement. Just you and me. At this rate, we’ll be into middle age before we go out to dinner alone.”
Angie raised her head. “Where’s Uncle Vern?”
“He’s sleeping over at the Kirkland bunkhouse. Carter Mayes, Jake Longbow and he are heading out at dawn to find an old rock corral, and from there they plan to search for Carter’s cave. They shouldn’t get into too much trouble, since they’re taking a four-wheeler. If I know Kirkland, he’ll make sure Jake has everything he needs to take care of all three old guys.”
“Wilkes,” Angie whispered. “We are alone. I’ll go pack that basket you’ve got stashed above the cabinets, and we can have a midnight dinner anywhere on this place. Alone. If only for a short time, I need to feel normal.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“No, I’m still keyed up. I’m tired of waiting to be alone with you.”
By the time she made their picnic, he’d spread blankets in the loft and set up hanging lights that made the barn look almost romantic.
“I decided if Doc Holliday loved it out here, we might give it a try.” He took the basket and climbed up far enough to lift it into the loft. Then he retraced his steps down the ladder and stood close behind her as she climbed up. His arms braced her on either side of the ladder. “I like how you feel,” he whispered as they reached the top. “I think I have since that first day in the museum when you attacked me.”
She had no idea how to answer. She simply ignored his words and tried not to notice the way his hand rested lightly on her waist as he guided her to her place on the blanket.
They used the picnic basket as their table to eat what he claimed was the best meal in the world. Cheese, crackers, grapes and cold slices of brisket she’d put between leftover breakfast biscuits. She’d even thought of paper cups and wine.
They talked and laughed as they ate. He told her of life out here where they seemed to be the only two people in the world. He loved the ranch and was proud of all he’d done in the years he’d been running the place. His love for history surprised her when she talked of the museum.
Doc pestered them out of all the scraps, then curled up on the corner of the blanket when only wine was left.
Angie couldn’t stop smiling. This was the most romantic time in her life. Wilkes was unlike any man she’d ever met. Strong and good with a stubborn streak that made him believe he lived in the best place in the world.
She couldn’t stop touching him. First his arm as they talked. She liked stroking her fingers over the muscles just below the cotton of his shirt. Then she moved to his jaw, running featherlight fingertips over his whiskers.
When she laid her hand against his heart, he stopped pretending he didn’t notice her touch.
When the moon was high, Wilkes floated another blanket over them both, and they sat in the opening of the barn’s loft to watch the stars. Her hand rested on his back and his arm warmed her shoulders.
They might not be talking as much, but they were learning more and more about each other. She loved the feel of him near. The way he smelled of fresh air. The way he leaned his face against her curls and breathed deep as if taking her in.
Wilkes held her close and moved his hand along her side, almost touching her breast, almost brushing over her hip. “You’re so beautiful, Angie.”
“No, I’m not,” she whispered. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better. I’ve never been beautiful or sexy or any of that stuff. The few men I’ve dated said I was
cute
or
nice
, but never beautiful. My father always said I should be practical, never lift my head in the clouds. That kind of thing is not for girls like me.” She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop. “And don’t look at me like you did earlier in the car. Like you were longing for me or hungry to touch me.”
Wilkes laughed. “Shut up, Angie, and kiss me.”
She lifted her chin. “All right. I will, but not because you said it. I was already thinking about kissing you anyway.”
She leaned in to him and kissed him. A quick kiss just to prove that she was doing it because she wanted to and not because he told her to.
He waited, just staring at her, after she broke the kiss. “You’re wrong, Angie. You are beautiful, and I do want you.”
Shaking her head, she whispered, “Men like you aren’t interested in women like me.”
Putting his big hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her to him and began brushing the curls that had come loose from her bun long ago. “Men like me want a woman who is real. A gentle kind of beauty that no amount of makeup can cover or improve.” His thumb moved up and brushed the line of her jaw. “You’re wrong. There is something very sexy about you.”
His hand moved over her shoulder and along her arm. “I love touching you. I can feel every cell in your body react to my touch.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “When Lexie kissed me the other night, it was like I finally woke up. I couldn’t push her away fast enough. I knew she wasn’t what I wanted. If I kissed her every day for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t have made me feel like I felt when you kissed me.”