Rustler's Moon (23 page)

He told himself he wasn’t looking for a forever woman, and even if he were, it would never be someone like her. Petite women always made him nervous. Her hair seemed to have a mind of its own. She talked too fast when she talked, and when she was shy she almost disappeared. Hell, she even had a cat. Since she wouldn’t let Doc Holliday out of the house, the damn beast insisted on following Wilkes around. Keeping her safe came with a price, he decided, and cat hair on his office chair was part of the bargain.

But Angie was taking care of Uncle Vern. Wilkes called to check on him while he waited on Yancy to load his gear into the truck.

The old guy told him not to bother coming back because he was eating food cooked in heaven every meal.

Several hours later, when they stopped for gas, Wilkes checked in with the ranch while Yancy picked up snacks.

After a dozen rings Vern answered and said he’d asked Angie to marry him.

Before Wilkes finished laughing, Vern mentioned the trouble in town.

“What kind of trouble?” Wilkes frowned. Crossroads was too small of a town to have problems. Maybe the one streetlight was out?

Vern took a deep breath, then delivered the bad news. “Lexie Davis is back. Everyone in town has seen her, including Angie.”

Wilkes fought not to react.

“You’re sure?”

“Yep, Rose Franklin called Miss Bees at the retirement village and she told Miss Abernathy, who told Cap. We used to fight grass fires together, me and Cap, and he knows how bad Lexie hurt you. I guess he felt the need to call and let me know.”

“We were over years ago, and by the way, I hate living in a small town. No one ever forgets anything. If I’d been born with a birthmark on my ear, I’d be that boy born with the funny ear for the rest of my life.”

Vern’s answer was simply, “You ain’t got no birthmark on your ear, boy. What you’ve got is a beauty queen who grew up to be a bitch.”

“She’s not mine. The beauty queen or the bitch. She never was.”

Wilkes fought down a few cuss words and went back to the real problem. “I haven’t seen Lexie since I left for the army.” He could still picture her crying at the airport swearing she’d be waiting in the exact spot when he got back. He learned later that she had a date with some guy that night. “I’m not interested in Lexie, and besides, she’s married.”

It crossed Wilkes’s mind that one of the reasons he didn’t come home when he got out of the service was knowing that he’d have to walk past the spot where he’d kissed her goodbye, and she wouldn’t be there.

Vern cleared his throat. “Something is up with that girl. Rose Franklin thinks she might be getting a divorce. Seems to need money. After two husbands she couldn’t boss around, maybe she’s decided to come back and give you another try.”

“You got any facts about her moving back, or just the Franklins talking?” Wilkes didn’t have to fake the little interest he showed.

“Well, one thing, she’s not in Dallas. Two, she’s trying to sell off her inheritance and her aunt’s not even dead yet. Seems to me if she’s still with that rich doctor, she wouldn’t be here.”

“I really don’t care.” Wilkes was ready to hang up but he had to ask one more question. “She still as beautiful as ever?”

“I don’t know. I ain’t seen her,” Vern answered. “But she’d have to really ugly up to go down past pretty.”

Wilkes hung up and dialed the museum. He hadn’t realized how over Lexie he was until this very moment. There had been a time when he would have taken her back, but not now.

Angie’s hesitant voice answered on the third ring. “Hello, Ransom Canyon Museum.”

“Angie.” Wilkes grinned just hearing her voice. “Everything all right?”

“Yes. Thanks for letting me stay at your place, Wilkes. Your uncle set up a cowboy patrol around the place just to make me feel safe. He’s a funny old man. Thinks he has to hug me good-night every evening before he turns in, like we’re kin.”

“Thanks for feeding Uncle Vern. And, Angie, you are a very huggable woman.” This wasn’t what he wanted to say to her. He wasn’t even sure why he called. Maybe he just wanted to hear her voice and now he was remembering how great she felt.

Wilkes gripped the phone and mentally pulled his thoughts off Angie. “How are things at the museum?”

“Fine,” she answered. “The ladies are planning to do a Country Christmas theme in the foyer. We’re going to hang quilts everywhere there is a wall. I’m even putting one of my mother’s in the mix.”

Wilkes closed his eyes. She was all right. She was working and happy. He could relax. She didn’t need him.

“I guess Dan told you what we were doing here in Austin. We’re not having much luck. Lots of records of Stanleys but none we can trace back to the house in Crossroads. Appears the house may have been passed down several times from one Stanley to another.”

“I thought Yancy said his mother spent a few years in Crossroads when she was a kid. Maybe she was born here. If so, she could have had relatives who lived here. I could do some checking.”

“That might help.” Wilkes didn’t want to hang up, but he was at a loss for what to say. “Angie, unless we find something, we’re heading back tomorrow. How about going out to eat with me when I get home?”

She hesitated, then finally asked, “Is this a payback for feeding your uncle or a date?”

“It’s a date. Don’t mention it to my uncle. He said he’s getting fat on your cooking. It won’t hurt him to skip a meal. I miss talking to you.” He closed his eyes, trying not to be too obvious. “Just me and you,” he added.

“Just talking?” She laughed, and he thought about how much he liked the way she laughed.

“Among other things. I like the way you feel in my arms.”

“Wilkes, you’ve already reminded me there is no forever or maybe even tomorrow where you’re concerned.”

Her replaying his words hurt. “Angie, I...” What could he say? That he’d reconsidered? That he’d changed his mind? He hadn’t known her long enough to even be thinking about tomorrow.

Lexie walked through his thoughts. She hadn’t waited. Would Angie if he asked her to?

“The date is on, Wilkes, but nothing more.” Angie broke up his worrying.

“Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll call you with details.”

The next morning they might be leaving Austin, but his thoughts were already home.

* * *

A
LITTLE
BEFORE
sunset when Angie and Wilkes walked into Dorothy’s Café, Wilkes wasn’t surprised to see Uncle Vern and Carter sitting at one of the back tables waiting for them.

He leaned close to Angie. “You told him.”

“No, I didn’t. I simply said I had a date.”

Wilkes grinned. She’d given Vern the only clue he needed to figure it out. What Wilkes had hoped would be a few hours alone with Angie vanished.

To depress him even more, Angie hugged them both and then sat down between the old guys. She pulled a tattered book from her purse and began showing them early sketches of the canyons.

Wilkes took the last chair across from her and listened as she told them about a man in the 1920s who had written about caves along one of the shallow canyon walls.

After they ordered, Angie pulled a red stone from her pocket and laid it on top of the worn book. “What I can’t figure out is why I found both this book and this rock in the safe. Neither seems particularly valuable.” The rock looked as if it could have easily been picked up in the canyon, and the old book might go for a hundred dollars in a rare book auction if it were in better shape, but it was as worn as her father’s ledger book. “It took me an hour to figure out how to turn the combination to that huge walk-in safe in my office and this is all I found.”

Wilkes watched both his uncle and Carter lean back in their chairs as if Angie had set poison on the table and not simply a dirty old rock.

“What is it?” she asked.

Uncle Vern took a deep breath. “I don’t know about the book, but the rock is not something you want to keep. I had a cowboy show me a stone like that once. He was part Cree or Comanche, I forget which. Said the rock is called a bloodstone.”

Carter nodded. “I’ve seen pictures of rocks like that. Vern’s right. It’s nothing but bad luck.”

Wilkes had enough and picked up the rock. “How can a rock the size of an egg hurt anyone?”

“It doesn’t hurt. It steals.” Vern crossed his arms over his chest. “Bloodstones steal your memories.”

Wilkes thought of Lexie. “There are a few memories I wouldn’t mind forgetting.”

Carter shook his head. “No. It’s the good and bad memories that make you what you are. You got to take them all or it’s not you. When the stone does its dark magic, it takes them all a little at a time.”

Vern took the rock from Wilkes’s hand and set it back on the book. “The cowboy with Native American blood running through him told me he found a stone like this in the pocket of a man who was lost. Said the man was half dead and couldn’t remember his name or when he last ate.”

“But why would anyone put an old book with pages stuck together and a rock in the safe?” Angie obviously didn’t buy into the superstition.

That night as the wind seemed to howl outside the café, they talked of legends. Wilkes had heard all the stories; out here they were bedtime tales, but Angie was drawn in to every one, so he just sat back and watched her. Those big eyes. That sweet mouth. That quick mind trying to make sense of stories that were nothing but campfire entertainment.

When Wilkes stood to pay, the wind blew in a woman dressed in a long red cape as if she was going to an opera in a big town.

“I got your order ready, Lexie,” Dorothy yelled through the open window to the kitchen. “What kind of salad dressing you want? We got Thousand Island or French.”

Wilkes turned and came face-to-face with the one woman he felt he’d spent half of his life trying to forget.

“Wilkes!” Her voice held surprise, but her eyes did not.

She flew into his arms before he could draw in a breath. Her mouth covered his and the kiss had nothing to do with hello. Her lean body slid against his as her arms wrapped around his neck. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was staking a claim on him and he had no say.

He finally got control and broke the kiss. All he’d done was lower his chin, and they were nose to nose thanks to her heels. She whispered something about how much she’d missed him and how she never stopped thinking about him.

As if they were the only two in the place, she pressed her mouth against his ear and added, “You haunt my dreams, cowboy. It is so good to see you.”

Wilkes, on the other hand, felt as if the eye of a tornado had just passed over him, leaving everyone else in the place untouched. The smell of her, the taste, the feel were all the things he’d thought he’d die missing, but he felt nothing in the hole where his heart had once been. Nothing.

This Lexie Davis was no more than a stranger.

He gently pushed her away. “I heard you were in town.” A few other questions came to mind, but he didn’t want to get into the past.

“I came hoping to see you. I thought we might...”

“I’m busy.” Whatever she was selling, he wasn’t buying.

“Oh, but...”

Wilkes cut her off again as he glanced back at the table he’d just left. “Angie, I’ll take you back to the museum if you’re ready. We might as well take your van back to the ranch.”

Vern grabbed Angie’s elbow and pulled her up. “Sounds like a plan. Time we all left.” The old man was suddenly in a hurry to leave. “I’ve been wanting to look at the engine of your old van. It don’t sound right, and we don’t want our Angie having car trouble, do we, Wilkes?”

“No, we don’t.” Wilkes, and everyone in the café, could easily read through the lines of Uncle Vern’s chatter, but Wilkes had to give the old guy credit for trying. Even though he wanted Wilkes married off, apparently just anybody wouldn’t do.

Lexie reached for him, but he stepped away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her straighten. She was not a woman anyone backed away from. Whatever she wanted, he wasn’t interested. If he could grab the bloodstone right now, he’d hit his skull hard, hoping the rock or the crack in his head might allow him to forget every memory he had of Lexie Davis.

For the first time, he saw what she really was, who she was, all wrapped up in pretty ribbons. The gift she was offering only looked good before it was unwrapped.

He nodded once to Angie. She quickly gathered up her things and for once didn’t argue as he opened the door. They were at his Tahoe before he glanced back. Lexie was standing at the counter staring out at him and this time he didn’t see her beauty.

In the darkness, as they headed toward the museum, Angie asked, “Are you all right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He fought to keep the anger from his voice. He could think of a hundred things he should have said to Lexie but all he thought about was getting away from her.

Glancing over, he saw Angie sitting all proper, her hands folded in her lap. He’d frightened her. He half expected her to say she was staying at her own place tonight. All he’d thought about was getting back to Angie and now, apparently, he couldn’t seem to talk to her.

“All right,” she agreed. “We don’t have to talk at all.”

When they got to the museum, she climbed out. “Thank you for the dinner.” She was so formal ice seemed to rattle out with her words. “I need to put the book and the stone back in my office before I follow you to the ranch. If you’ll make the coffee, I’ll be there by the time it’s ready and we can all have dessert. I promised Vern chocolate cake tonight.”

“All?” He tried to sound relaxed. “Does that mean me, too?”

She grinned. “I showed Vern the cake earlier, and he said he’d invite Carter over.” She walked up the steps of the museum.

He cut his engine and stepped out, planning to follow her in. “I’ll go with you.”

“That’s not necessary. Nigel Walls is still in there cleaning. I’ll be safe.” Her words were formal again as if he were no more than a stranger.

Wilkes felt like a jackass. “I’m sorry, Angie. I guess I wasn’t prepared to see an old girlfriend tonight.” He took the steps two at a time and caught up to her. “I hate that she kissed me like I still mattered to her. Like I ever mattered to her.”