The Devil's Cowboy (14 page)

Ellen turned to Rafe. “You weren’t kidding. Apparently it really is an old cowboy remedy.”

“Who’re you callin’ an old cowboy?” Jeb broke in, indignant.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” She stopped when she saw Jeb and Rafe exchange a sly grin. “You’re teasing me,” she accused.

“Yep. Can’t resist it. Yer kinda easy ta tease.” Jeb grinned as he handed her a steaming mug of coffee. “I put in plenty ‘a sugar too. You’ll be needin’ the extra boost of energy after a day spent out on the range.”

Ellen sampled the brew and sighed with pleasure. “It’s perfect,” she told Jeb. “I’ll need the caffeine tonight and that shot of whiskey gives it a nice kick.”

She followed Rafe down the long hall in one wing of the house. He opened the door to a spacious bedroom flooded with light from the slanted rays of the sun, now low in the sky. A rustic log bed covered with a colorful quilt stood in the center of the far wall, flanked by a pair of pine nightstands that would have fetched a handsome price in one of the Dallas antique markets. Rafe opened a door on one side of the room to reveal a large bathroom with an old-fashioned claw foot tub.

“There’s towels on the stand,” he said as he started filling the tub with hot water. Ellen saw a wicker basket perched on a rough wooden footstool within arm’s reach of the tub, with half a dozen fluffy white towels rolled up inside it. The artistic presentation didn’t look like anything Jeb or Rafe would have done. She guessed Sierra had been at work here.

Rafe rummaged in the small linen closet behind the door, coming out with a carton of Epsom salts. “Best thing for aches and pains,” he declared, pouring a generous handful into the stream of hot water flowing into the tub. He swished his hand through the water, making sure the bath salts were dissolved. “Half an hour soakin’ in here and you’ll feel like a new woman,” he promised.

Sure enough, thirty minutes later Ellen toweled off, marveling at how quickly her assorted aches and pains had been eased. She found the suitcase Rafe had quietly deposited in the bedroom while she was half-asleep in the tub. As she prepared herself for the night’s encounter, Ellen repeated the comforting prayer she’d composed long ago when she first began her psychic work. She asked her spirit guides to accompany them that night, calling upon heavenly light to protect and surround both her and Rafe.

Leaving her damp hair hanging loosely down her back, she slipped into the floor-length dress she wore every time she did a space cleansing. She’d designed and sewn the dress herself, then blessed it before she put it on for the first time. It was made of pure cotton, dyed a deep, rich purple with natural plant dyes. The sleeveless dress flowed smoothly over her body with a double sash that came from the shoulders, crossed under her breasts and tied in back to trail nearly to the floor.

She wore no bra or underwear. Only the simple dress, without metal fastenings or zippers. No perfume, no jewelry, no hair clips. And when she worked in a house that needed cleansing, she wore no shoes either, always leaving them outside at the front door. Barefoot, unadorned, she came to the space as near to a naked druid priestess dancing under the moonlight as modern times would allow. Ellen wanted no lingering energies from manmade materials getting in the way of the powerful forces she would summon tonight.

She took one last look in the mirror, adjusted the sash under her breasts, and headed back to the great room.

* * *

Rafe drew in a sharp breath when he saw her walking down the hall. Till tonight, he’d never seen Ellen wearing anything but pants and shirts. The woman coming toward him was stunning. She wore her simple flowing dress like a regal robe. Its lines suited her full figure, outlining those lush breasts he loved to touch and cinching in her waist to reveal curvy hips that swayed enticingly with every step she took. One glance told him she was naked underneath. His blood quickened. Attractive though it may have been, suddenly he couldn’t wait to get that dress off her.
I can’t seem to get enough of this woman,
he admitted to himself, surprised when he realized they’d made love a scant few hours ago.

Her hair was loose and still damp, a soft dark cloud that framed her face and flowed down below her shoulders. She sent him a calm smile and he felt a wave of well-being wash over him.

“You’ve been meditating,” he said, taking her hand as she came closer. “I can feel it—the peace, the stillness.”

“I have a ritual that centers me when I prepare for a session,” she replied. “Saying a special prayer I wrote, putting on this dress, calling on the spirit for help.”

“You look like an ancient priestess. I can just imagine the horny palace guards escorting you to the temple for some hot fertility rite, wishing they were going to be taking part in it.”

She laughed. “Is sex all you guys ever think about?”

“Mostly. That and food—and then maybe sports, but only after we’ve come.” He laughed too and changed the subject. “Would you like to have dinner before we head out?”

“It smells wonderful, but right now food is the last thing I want. I find it’s much harder to do this work on a full stomach. I’m sure after we finish tonight I’ll be starving though. Do you think Jeb will save us some?”

“Jeb always cooks enough for an army. There’ll be plenty of leftovers—and his meatloaf only gets better after it sits a spell.”

“Great! Maybe we can plan a midnight supper.”

“Darlin’, if we’re through by midnight, I’ll be satisfyin’ another kind of hunger first.”

He saw the faint blush appear and reached out a hand to caress her cheek. “I love the way you go from shy maiden at times like this to wild vixen when you’re naked in my arms.”

“I’ve never been like this before. It’s only with you, Rafe,” she admitted softly. “You can have me blushing like a schoolgirl one minute and then begging you to do all kinds of hot, nasty things to me the next.”

Rafe grabbed her head, capturing her mouth in a feverish kiss, grinding his hips against hers so she could feel his hard-on. “You’d better quit talkin’ like that or we’ll never get out the door tonight,” he said, reluctantly letting her go. He picked up the well-worn leather satchel that held all his supplies and led her out the door to his truck.

Twilight was falling as they pulled into the driveway of Melanie’s house. Ellen got the key from its hiding place on the porch, slipped off her shoes, and unlocked the door.

Rafe insisted on entering first. All his senses were on alert as he stepped across the threshold. The house was quiet, still. But there was an ominous heaviness in the air. He’d felt that once before. It was as though the forces of evil lay in wait, reining in their dark energy to unleash it in a torrent on whatever unsuspecting soul was foolish enough to awaken them.

He saw Ellen’s eyes widen, heard her sharp intake of breath, and knew that she’d felt it too.

“It’s all right, darlin’,” he said aloud, as much for the benefit of the dark one as for her. “We have a power together that is much greater than either of us possesses alone. And the white light surrounds us here tonight, protecting us.”

* * *

Rafe moved to set up his makeshift altar once again on the dining room table. This time as he unpacked his treasured ancient statue of the archangel for whom he was named, Ellen made herself busy as well, lighting votive candles and whispering prayers. She called on her angels again, asking for their guidance and protection. Bending forward, she touched the edge of the dried bundle of white sage Rafe handed her to the flame of one of the candles. After letting it burn for a few moments, she waved the string-wrapped bundle of sage through the air, putting out the fire and turning it into a smoldering torch.

Ellen picked up the bowl made from a pearly white abalone shell and laid the sage into it to catch the ashes. Waving Rafe’s sacred eagle feather over the bowl, she moved around the room, fanning the distinctive fragrance of the smoking herb into every corner. The bundle of sage did its work, giving off unusually large quantities of smoke, a sign to her that this room needed purifying.

It billowed around her as she heard Rafe’s voice chanting what sounded like an ancient cantata. Hairs rose on the back of her neck. It reminded her of music she’d heard once before, when she wandered into an old cathedral in Montreal one afternoon. The solemn voices of a choir of monks at practice swelled on every chorus to fill the huge structure. Now, although Rafe’s low voice was the only one singing, the haunting melody echoed through the entire house.

Faintly, through the hypnotic chanting, she heard the whispers.

“Why won’t you listen to me? Get away now, while you still can. He’s cruel and evil. He’ll make you do things—unspeakable things.”

The voice went silent for a moment. Ellen stiffened as she felt an alien presence invading her thoughts, rifling through her naughtiest secrets. She focused, slamming shut the part of her brain that opened when she spoke to souls who had passed. But it was too late. The angry, grieving being, the soul of the woman trapped in the house, had gained access to the darkest recesses of her mind.

“He’s already begun, hasn’t he?” the sly voice whispered, as a slide show of Ellen and Rafe’s most savage, sensual moments played out unbidden in her mind’s eye. “He’s done dirty, nasty things to you, made you love them, shown you a world filled with forbidden delights. But he cares nothing for you. He’s only using you for his own pleasure, bending you to his wicked ways so he can force you to do his bidding later.”

More scenes appeared, this time bringing back the faceless creatures ready to ravage her naked body as Rafe urged them on—the same horrible vision the woman’s tormenter had conjured up in Ellen’s mind here in this room last night. Ellen shook her head, fighting desperately to make the gut-wrenching images disappear.

“Rafe loves me—and I love him.” She repeated the words in her mind like a mantra. Each time it became easier to say as the awful pictures faded, taking with them the stabbing pain they conjured up in her heart. “We have chosen to spend countless lifetimes together on this earth. Giving each other pleasure as we do is not wicked or dirty or evil. I’ve chosen to submit to Rafe, doing whatever he tells me to do, as an expression of my love for him. We both enjoy these acts and we aren’t hurting ourselves or each other… or anyone else.”

She drew in a breath, asked for guidance yet again, and spoke aloud, sending a message to the tortured soul trapped here. “I’m so sorry for your loss—loss of your dreams, your innocence, loss of the love you thought you once had. But real love isn’t selfish and cruel. You’re right about him. He never loved you.”

She went on, trusting the spirit to guide her words. “Believe me, all men aren’t like him. But now your hatred and your anger at him are only hurting you. That’s what’s keeping you trapped here. Forgive him—and step into the light. There you will experience love in its purest form. Embrace the lesson of forgiveness that your unhappy life was meant to teach you. Forgive him—and more important, forgive yourself. It’s the only way to be free.”

“Forgive myself?” The voice sounded less angry now, confused.

“You’re as angry and disappointed with yourself as you are with him. But you have no reason to be.” Ellen spoke from her heart, letting the words pour out. “You were a battered woman, an unwilling captive. You bonded with the one who held you here, did everything he demanded of you, no matter how nasty and distasteful it was to you at first—to insure your survival. Later your body responded, learning to find pleasure in what you did. There’s no sin in that. No shame in doing whatever you had to do to stay alive. You never hurt anyone else. You were the one who suffered—and ever since you died, you’ve only tried to protect those who came here, innocent and unknowing as you once were.”

“You’re right. I tried to help them.” The whispered tones grew fainter, sorrowful now. “All of them… especially the little ones, the defenseless, powerless ones. I tried to warn them, to keep them safe.”

“You’ve done your work here,” Ellen replied gently. “You’ve done a good job. Your warnings brought us here to drive him away. Now it’s time for you to let go and let us finish it.”

Her voice grew stronger, louder, ringing out into the room. “I call upon the blessed angels who were entrusted with your care on the day you were created. Come now and escort this soul into the light. Her work here on earth is done. Let her enter at last into the peace and love of her new Home—until the day that she may choose to come back once again to the physical world and continue her journey to enlightenment.”

The far wall suddenly faded away and Ellen saw an archway appear, with a warm golden light pouring through it into the room. “It’s time. Time for you to go,” she said softly. “All is well. Step into the light. Embrace it. Let yourself feel love.”

In front of her, a stooped wraith-like figure materialized, wearing a long black dress, like an old woman perpetually in mourning. She moved hesitantly toward the glowing archway. On the other side, Ellen saw vague shapes materializing in the light, all dressed in white. At first, she could only make out a few indistinct forms, but as she watched, more and more of the luminous beings took shape. They came forward, arms outstretched as if to welcome the shadowy figure into their midst as others appeared beyond them in the distance, forming an endless parade.

Hands trembling, the woman reached out, almost touching the being closest to her. She stopped, looking back. Ellen saw her face for the first time. It was that of a young woman, not much more than a girl herself. Gentle brown eyes met Ellen’s. “Thank you,” her voice whispered, soft now. She straightened her shoulders, standing tall, as though an enormous burden had fallen away. Then she turned, clasped the nearest outstretched hand in hers and stepped through the glowing portal.

Ellen heard a ferocious cry behind her as the archway disappeared, and with it, the woman. She turned to find Rafe standing behind her, glaring at her, his eyes filled with hate.