Cowboy Protector Page 6
“I sure could use his support,” Neil agreed, guessing that he hadn’t done such a good job at hiding his resentment, after all. “I keep telling myself that ranching isn’t for everyone, that Quin has the right to choose a different life’s path, but he doesn’t seem capable of choosing anything, so why can’t he stick around and lend a hand? It’s getting harder to make a living every day.”
Which he knew personally, since his father had retired and turned over the reins to him. Of course, in a ranching family, being retired only meant that you didn’t work twelve hours a day, seven days a week anymore. Except during calving and branding and roundup, that was.
But his father no longer did the books or the ranch budget or was in charge of paying off the loans. That all fell to Neil as ranch manager. The actual doing and the worrying that went along with the job.
“But we have such a wonderful economy.” Annabeth sniffed. “At least that’s what the politicians keep telling us.”
Neil couldn’t argue with that.
As a matter of fact, he hadn’t argued with anything Annabeth had said all evening. And the evening was almost over. Already in the Old Town neighborhood, he pulled down the side street where she lived. Amazing, but they were getting along better than he’d expected.
Perhaps too well?
And then she said, “So tell me about The McKenna Legacy.”
Which switched on all kinds of warning alarms for Neil. He pulled the truck into the only open spot on the overcrowded city street—next to a fire hydrant.
Feeling her staring at him, waiting for an answer, he caved. “How do you know about the legacy?”
“Jane mentioned it. She’s a nice woman, but that conversation we had in the garden was a little on the strange side.”
“I guess it would be to an outsider.” Hell, it was even strange to him.
“She said something about a terrible, wonderful adventure that I was about to embark on.”
“Mmm,” he murmured, trying to sound noncommittal.
Which proved impossible when Annabeth added, “She made a big deal about you and me being thrown together under dangerous circumstances.”
Sudden tension live-wired from her to him.
“Well, we were, this morning.”
“She said that’s how it always starts. How what starts? Jane said that I should ask you about it. What is this legacy all about?”
Oh, Lord, now he was going to have to tell her. Neil wondered how much he could edit out. He wasn’t sure of anything and he didn’t want to give her ideas that he himself found unsettling and unacceptable.
“Okay, let me start at the beginning. Our grandmother Moira McKenna was what the Irish call fey.”
“You mean she had premonitions?”
“Among other gifts. She could communicate with animals. She could heal people—”
“Heal as in a doctor?”
Not having seen her ability for himself, he hedged, “Of a sort.”
“A folk doctor?”
“You could call it that.” She had used homegrown herbs, after all. “Her talents weren’t always appreciated,” Neil went on. “But different aspects of her gifts were inherited by most of her nine grandchildren. Actually, all of her grandchildren except for Skelly. He has to make do with her love of storytelling.”
“Except…that means that you got one of these gifts.”
“I didn’t think so,” he muttered, wondering how he was now discussing something so awkward for him with a stranger. “But I recently found out differently.”
“How? Did you look into some tea leaves and realize you were able to read them?”
The sudden amusement in her tone set him further on edge. “Nothing so innocent. I touched someone and saw something that happened to her later.”
“So that’s the legacy? That you see things before they happen?”
“Partly. What it really means—or so my sister and cousins insist—is finding both love and danger together within thirty-three days of our thirty-third birthdays.”
There, he’d said it, as stupid as that had sounded…
“And you just turned thirty-three.” Annabeth sank into silence for a moment before murmuring, “Love and danger. Well, I guess the danger part already came true.”
“Only it isn’t over.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had another vision similar to the first. It hasn’t happened to her yet.”
“Her?”
“You.”
“What!”
He could feel her glare at him in the dark. “That was my reaction.”
“You expect me to believe that you saw what happened to us today ahead of time like…like some paranormal broadcast?”
Her sudden indignation was catching.
“Not exactly! I didn’t really know what I was seeing. When you were on your way to Wainwright, I tried to stop you and that’s when it happened. The vision stopped me cold in my tracks and hit me like a freight train. You were terrified, eyes wide, licking your lips,” he said, remembering. “A trickle of sweat trailed down the side of your face, and I could hear your heart pounding…” He snapped his gaze to hers. “I saw and felt what you were going through. Twice!” he insisted.
Her eyes were wide now. He could see them even though the only illumination in the car came from the streetlight.
“You’re serious?”
“Never more.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Then she shook her head, muttering, “This is ridiculous,” and reached for the door handle.
“Don’t you want to know what else I saw?”
She froze, her fingers inches from the handle. “All right. What?”
“You on some deserted city street. Terrified. Not alone.”
“Oh, great, feed into a woman’s biggest fear.”
“I’m only telling you what I saw.”
“When?”
“When Nickels grabbed your arm. He linked us together. I think he was the man in the vision.”
“That’s it!” She grasped the handle.
Not done yet, he grasped her arm.
A high-voltage connection…sending him spinning into the void of the future…
Palpable fear passes between them.
He’s with Annabeth, holding her, feeling the feed of her pulse beneath his palms.
“Neil…”
She fairly breathes his name and the soft sound stirs the short hairs at the back of his neck.
“Shh, it’s all right now.”
“No, he knows where I am…he can get to me at any time…”
“But I’m here with you,” he soothes. “You’re not alone.”
“Not alone,” she echoes.
Her wide-open blue eyes swim with unwept emotion.
Then she touches him. A gentle stroke, her fingers flutter to the side of his face. He sighs and does something unexpected, turns his head so that his lips touch her fingers, then her open palm.
“Neil…”
“Annabeth…”
Their mouths hover only centimeters apart.
Her fear beats against him now, her heart drums a message to his. They’re breasts to chest, hip to hip, lips to lips. He claims her. Everything she knows and feels is his.
Odd how terror turns to raging desire…
Chapter Five
Abruptly thrown back to the present and the cramped front seat of the truck, Neil sensed discomfort along with the pleasure of having his lips locked over softer ones. In his arms, Annabeth sighed into his mouth and opened hers slightly.
An invitation to enter, Neil thought, one that he couldn’t resist.
Hazily, slipping his tongue into the warm crevice, he tried to figure out what had just happened even as he thoroughly explored her mouth, and the kiss went on and on and on.
Suddenly Annabeth gasped and shoved at his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”
It took him a moment to blink back into his conscious mind. “Sa
me as you, I guess.”
“I didn’t kiss you!”
“Damned if you didn’t.”
“Not first.”
“Just the same.”
“Well…stop it!” Annabeth whirled toward the door and jerked the handle.
Neil muttered, “Trust me, Sunshine, you weren’t wanting me to stop anything.”
With a frustrated-sounding shriek, she forced the door open. Even as she slid from the passenger seat, Neil got out on his side.
“I hope you don’t think you’re coming in,” she said, nearly jogging down the sidewalk, as if she wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible.
He stalked her, saying, “I’m walking you to the door.”
All the while keeping tabs on the neighborhood. One kiss hadn’t knocked him senseless. He peered in every direction, into every shadow, aware of potential risks, especially when they started down the dark gangway.
But no danger met them…this time.
Annabeth lived behind a fancy old Victorian. The former coach house had been turned into a garage with a studio apartment above. Not that he’d seen it for himself. She had told him about it when he’d delivered her to change for the party. Since there hadn’t been a parking spot available, he’d pulled the truck next to the fireplug then, as well, and had waited there while she’d cleaned up.
And she’d cleaned up right nicely, he thought.
“Your coming any farther really isn’t necessary, Neil. I can see myself in.”
They were crossing the backyard now. The space was softly lit, so he could make out a patio with flower borders and a tree for shade. No place for anyone to hide, he thought. At least that was something.
“Seeing you to your actual door will make me feel better,” he insisted. “Indulge me until I know for sure that you’re out of danger.”
“The police will take care of the situation.”
“Maybe. Eventually. But until then, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
“Until then?” That stopped her cold. She whirled on him. “What are you planning on doing?” she demanded to know. “Camping out front in your truck every night?”
He was standing over her, wanting to kiss her again. Wanting to stir a little fire in her so that she would ask him inside.
Instead, he kept his arms pinned to his sides and his voice even. “I’m no masochist. I’m just going to wait until you’re inside with your door locked.”
“And it locks well,” she muttered, setting off again. She headed right up the stairs that ran alongside the old coach house. “Two dead bolts.”
“I’m impressed.”
When she opened the door, Neil got a quick glimpse inside. A big, high-ceiling room. Not much furniture. Bright colors. Lots and lots of plants.
Annabeth held out her hand and shoved it at him. “Thanks. Nice meeting you, despite the circumstances.”
Neil took the proffered hand and admired her shake. Firm. No-nonsense. Not one of those limp-fingered deals that some women seemed to think were expected of them. Those non-handshakes drove him nuts.
“Goodbye, Neil.”
Reluctantly, he let go of her hand. “Not goodbye, Annabeth, but good night. I promise you haven’t seen the last of me.”
She opened her mouth as if to squawk some rebuttal, then abruptly clamped her jaw shut, flew inside and locked the dead bolts.
Both of them.
On the way back to his truck, Neil couldn’t help smiling. Until he analyzed what was happening to him.
Love and danger…The McKenna Legacy…his turn…act selflessly in another’s behalf, and my legacy will be yours…
Was it possible?
Was Annabeth Caldwell the one?
That one powerful kiss had certainly made it seem so.
And yet, she wasn’t right for him. She was too impulsive, too outspoken. Neil wanted a woman who could make life comfortable. Which made the rest even more difficult. The stuff that came hand in hand with the legendary attraction. Danger. Lives in peril. His. Hers.
Neil shook his head.
Unacceptable. But also ungovernable.
He had no real choices here. Though he might like to walk away from the situation—from the insanity that could mean lives—he couldn’t. For with his grandmother’s good wishes for him came obligation.
And if there was one thing Neil understood, it was the core meaning of being responsible. Sometimes, he thought being so damn dependable was the curse of his life.
His mood darkened.
He would dread what came next until it actually happened.
If family history were any indicator, he wouldn’t have long to wait. Until then, until he met his real fate, he would be looking over his shoulder, checking every shadow. And to that same end, he had to insinuate himself into Annabeth’s life as quickly as possible so that when trouble came, he would be around to shield her.
Act selflessly in another’s behalf, his grandmother had invited.
Letter or not, he would do it anyway because he kept getting negative glimpses of her future. He would do it because he had to. Maybe that made him foolish, but he didn’t know any other way to be.
As Neil rounded the truck, his mood soured further. For something was flapping from the driver’s-door window.
A parking ticket!
He ripped it from the window, climbed into the truck and turned on the overhead light so he could read it.
Damn! That walk to Annabeth’s door had just cost him a hundred dollars.
Stuffing the ticket in the glove compartment, he started the engine and headed for home. Rather, Skelly’s home, where he would be lucky to sleep past daylight. If he didn’t wake on his own, the triplets would be all over him.
In any case, the morning would come too soon for him, Neil thought, because whether or not he liked it—whether or not she liked it—he would have to insert himself in Annabeth’s life. And he knew exactly how to approach her, at least to start. He would get a new draw, and it was his right as a contestant to go check on his calf.
Assuming this one wasn’t missing.
PROMISE OR THREAT?
As she headed across the rodeo grounds early the next morning, Annabeth couldn’t stop thinking about Neil’s last words to her before she’d slammed the door in his face.
She hadn’t seen the last of him.
Why did that bother her so much? she wondered. Why was she experiencing a sense of anticipation that did nothing more than aggravate her?
Entering the barn, she saw Lloyd, for some reason rearranging the calves. He was shooing a couple of critters into the empty pen.
She cleared her throat and sang out, “Morning, Lloyd!”
He started and whipped around. “Annabeth, honey, didn’t expect to see you here this early.”
“I told you I would make it up to you. I figured you would need help this morning, so here I am.”
“So you are.” He swung the gate closed and hooked it. “But you’re scheduled to work the chutes this evening, and I’m really gonna need you then.”
If she didn’t know better, she would think he didn’t want her around. Her stomach clenched. Surely he wasn’t thinking of firing her for going off to the police station the day before. She needed this job.
“I don’t have anything else on my dance card for today,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “I can fill in wherever.”
“That makes for a really long day,” Lloyd argued. Then suddenly, he softened. “But, heck, I am shorthanded. And I imagine you could use the extra pay. If you’re sure—”
“I’m sure,” she said, sagging inside. Relief turned her bones to jelly.
Lloyd grinned at her. “All right, then.”
“Great!”
She needed to work not only for the money, but to keep her mind occupied. Spending hour upon hour alone after what had happened the day before would be too much for her to bear. She lived inside her head too much already.
“Can you handle things alone in
here?”
“Absolutely.”
Lloyd dusted off his hands. “Good. Good. I got some other problems to attend to.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said to his back as he headed for the outside doors.
Mind-numbing, backbreaking work was just the thing to make her feel better.
ANNABETH CALDWELL—that’s one name he would never forget. If not for her, he would be significantly richer this morning. Because of her, he’d forfeited the winnings of the biggest gamble of his life.
He strode the south end of the rodeo grounds and mourned the loss of what had to be a couple hundred thousand dollars. Sufficient cash to set him up in style.
But enough about the money. His freedom sang a torch song in his head, as if it was kissing him goodbye.
Not if he could help it.
The main thing linking him to a jail cell was working inside that barn. He didn’t leave loose ends, not when he could help it. Annabeth Caldwell had to be silenced before she could bring judgment down on him.
Plotting how to get to her, where to get to her, he was stopped cold by the unexpected arrival of the Lone Ranger, who slipped inside the barn as fast as greased lightning.
What the hell was he doing here, anyhow?
Of course—he was there to see Annabeth.
Her name burned into his brain like wildfire. But it wouldn’t be niggling at him for long. Once he figured out how to tie up this particularly irritating loose end, he could forget that she had ever existed at all.
HAVING JUST DISTRIBUTED a large bag of feed, Annabeth felt the short hairs at the back of her neck stand to attention and knew she wasn’t alone. Heart thumping, gut clenching, she whipped around to face Neil Farrell.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, suddenly weak-kneed. He’d practically scared her to death, not that she would admit as much.
“Looking for a calf.”
“Sorry. Casper hasn’t shown up that I know of.”
He waggled a slip of paper at her. “New draw.”
“Oh, well, help yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
After checking the slip, Neil found the right pen and did a cursory search for the calf.