Sunrise Crossing (4 page)

“I didn't mind you touching me.” She moved one step closer. “Would you mind if I got a little closer to say good-night?”

Before he could answer, her lips touched his. When he didn't move, she leaned against him and put her hands on each side of his face. “Kiss me back, Yancy,” she whispered against his mouth. “Please, kiss me back.”

Something deep inside Yancy broke. Maybe it was reason. Maybe it was the door to his own private prison.

He pulled her against him and kissed her full on, like he'd always wanted to kiss a girl.

After a few moments, he felt her fingers gently brushing against the sides of his face, as if she were calming him down. When he let her go, he realized he'd been holding her so tightly she probably couldn't breathe.

He'd kissed her too hard. Too long for a first kiss.

His hands dropped to his sides, but she didn't pull away. He wouldn't have blamed her if she ran. She had to think he was some kind of wild animal. It would probably be no surprise to her that he'd had very few girlfriends.

But she stayed so near he could feel her breath as she whispered, “Easy now, Yancy. Let's do it again. I'm not going away. You don't have to hold on so tight. I'm right here in front of you, wanting very much to kiss you. Do you think we can try again?”

He moved his hands gently up her body and held her as tenderly as he knew how as she kissed him a second time.

This woman with all her secrets and closed doors kissed him with an openness unlike anyone had ever kissed him. She wasn't just going through the motions, waiting for what happened next, but there was tenderness, caring, as if she'd held all her passion in check for so long that she had to explode.

This time he was the one who couldn't breathe.

CHAPTER EIGHT

M
ADISON
O'G
RADY
WAS
one of the best pilots Fifth Weathers had ever seen. It took him a minute to get used to the cramped space and the vibration of the chopper, but the view was beautiful, both the land outside and the woman so close she was almost touching him.

They flew low across Kirkland land, following the canyon and riverbeds as if running with the wild horses. The landscape took his breath away, and when he glanced at her, Madison smiled as if she understood how he felt.

Finally, he calmed enough to explain how a cowhand had reported seeing a car far down in a gully where not even a truck could go. The canyon was too steep for the cowhand to get his horse close to the car, so he'd called in to the sheriff's office.

“We might not have checked out an old car,” Fifth added, “but for the last week we've been getting info that a woman is missing. We don't have details, but if she was passing through this area and was kidnapped, whoever took her might have wanted to make the vehicle disappear.”

Madison looked down at the treeless, rolling land. “That wouldn't be easy to do in this country. An abandoned car would be easy to spot.”

“Right,” he said. “Short of digging a hole and burying it, the best way is to sink it in water. Only, if a flash rain comes, it'll swell the gullies and drag the car along in a sudden flood. A few hours later, it could be miles from where it was dumped and above water or damming up a creek.”

Much as he hated to brag, Fifth did feel like an expert on the subject. “The one animal, besides man, that does the most to change the lay of the land is a beaver. One den, built on a stream, can end up changing water flow for miles. So, even if it's simply an abandoned old car, someone has to deal with it.”

“So we're looking for beavers?” She made a face.

“No.” He laughed. “We're looking for a car that might have done the beaver's job. Someone reported seeing our missing person driving a red Chev. If we find it and there is a body in it, that's where the law comes in. Of course, there have been other apparent sightings of this missing lady. One report said she might have taken a bus from Oklahoma City. Another claimed to have seen a hitchhiker near Dallas who fit her description. Right now we have no idea which ones are true. All I know is she's missing and someone is in a real hurry to find her.”

They flew for almost an hour, with Fifth marking off their route as they went. Now was a good time to note the flow of streams for future reference. The sheriff liked to walk the land, but Fifth preferred using a computer when he could. Madison was saving him several days of work. Some of the terrain could be reached only on horseback, and that would have taken a week.

No old car appeared. Maybe it went back underwater. Maybe the guy who spotted it was wrong on his location. But, thanks to his mapping, the flight hadn't been a waste of time.

When they finally landed and she cut the engine, he leaned back and said, “Thanks. I can't wait to get all this data into the computer. We might not have found the SUV, but I have a much better sense of the flow of the streams around these parts.”

She grinned. “You are welcome, Deputy Weathers.”

He collected his notes. She picked up her satchel. They walked back to the headquarters in matching strides.

“I'd like to offer to buy you lunch, but I'm afraid you'd think I meant it as a date.” Fifth fought the urge to step out of range as he asked.

“I'm starving. I might go if we both understand it's only a thank-you lunch.” She pointed to where the sheriff's cruiser had been parked. It was missing, along with Staten's huge black Dodge. “Looks like everyone left us.”

“There is a big meeting in town. Didn't they tell you? We may have wind turbines coming in across this part of Texas. Some say it'll double the size of the town. If I know the people of Crossroads, they'll talk it to death before deciding.”

She nodded. “Quinn mentioned it. I'm staying over for a few days, so she said we'll have lots of time to catch up. I grew up around here, but my parents moved to Granbury when I started college.”

Opening the car door, he added to the offer. “If you have lunch, I promise to bring you back to Kirkland's place. I'm guessing you don't have a car and you won't want to wait in town for the meeting to end.”

Madison hesitated. “You're right, but I don't know about a lunch date. Small town. Crowd in town, half of which will know me. All probably know you. They'll have us engaged before we order dessert.”

“Well, then, we might as well do it right here. How about in the back of my cruiser or on the grass? We could skip lunch or dating or marriage. Let's just...”

“Stop it. I get the point.”

He laughed. “Don't tell me you're shy?”

“No, I just don't like crowds.”

He understood. They would stick out by about a head. “I know just the place that will be perfect for lunch, or whatever you have in mind. Trust me.”

She looked like she was about to say “not a chance,” but instead she folded into his cruiser without a word.

He lifted a brow. That was easy.

The conversation was stilted all the way back to town. When he pulled through the Dairy Queen and ordered, she relaxed a little. Five minutes later, when he parked in the empty museum parking lot, she smiled.

“I remember this place. There's a seating area overlooking the canyon.”

“Our table is waiting. No crowds. Only the wind and ants.”

She laughed as he handed her two root-beer floats while he got the burgers and they headed toward the picnic area.

Within a few minutes, they were talking like old friends. She told him stories of being in the air force after college, and he told her about wild car chases and arrests that he'd only heard about.

They figured out that they graduated from high school the same year, but she seemed to have had hundreds more adventures than he had. She'd traveled the world and been in combat once when she'd flown a rescue mission. He'd traveled Texas and had pulled his service weapon once in two years.

Both shared stories of being the tallest in every class picture and the problems they both had dating.

In the end, when he drove her back to the Kirkland Ranch, Fifth felt like he'd made a friend.

Maybe they'd work together again sometime. Maybe she'd call him the next time she visited her relatives, but he saw no sparks between them when she said goodbye.

As always, he was in the friend category.

The only problem was, this time he wasn't sure he wanted to be.

CHAPTER NINE

Crossroads

R
ABBIT
DIDN
'
T
COME
back for two nights, but Yancy went to his barn and worked late. He'd planned the stairs to be his next project, but found himself looking for excuses not to work on it. Finally, on the third night, as he cut the wood for the rails for the staircase, his mind drifted repeatedly to how she'd felt in his arms.

She was small, but after holding her, he had no doubt that she was a woman fully developed. He liked the way she felt and the way she smelled, but most of all, he liked the way she wasn't afraid of him. She trusted him. Maybe not totally, but enough to build hope on.

He worked. He'd wait.

When he heard the creak of the door, he dropped his tools and turned toward the sound. She blew in with the first raindrops from a midnight storm.

She met his eyes briefly, and then she was running toward him as if she had missed him as dearly as he'd missed her.

He opened his arms and caught her as she jumped. For a while he just held her, feeling her body shake slightly. At first he thought it might be from the cold, but then he realized she was crying.

Backing up a few feet, Yancy leaned against a sawhorse so he wouldn't seem so tall. Her face moved between his throat and shoulder and he felt her tears as they soaked through his shirt.

His shy little rabbit was hurting. He patted her back lightly, wishing he could take her sadness away.

A hundred questions came to mind, but he remembered their one rule. He'd have to wait for answers. All that mattered now was that she was safe here in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head and moved his hands comfortingly across her back.

She snuggled against him and cried softly as though her gentle heart was breaking.

“Are you hurt?” he finally whispered.

Shaking her head, she pulled away enough to look at him. “Promise me you'll never tell anyone about me. No matter what happens, no one must ever know I'm here. I've vanished, you see, and I'm not ready to go back. For the first time ever, I'm living my own life. If this time ended, I'm not sure I could bear it.”

“I promise.” Whom would he tell? Yancy thought. No one would even know to ask. Besides, he'd sound nuts telling anyone he'd spent all these nights woodworking with a woman he called Rabbit but hadn't asked who she was or where she came from. “I'll keep your secret, if it will keep you safe.” He pushed a tear off her cheek. “I'd do anything to help you.”

She leaned against him and finally stopped crying. “Thanks,” she whispered as she kissed his lips feather light.

He returned the kiss. Just a touch, not an advance. Her lip trembled slightly, but she didn't move away.

He held her, loving the nearness of her, wanting to help, needing to know what was wrong, but afraid to ask more. For now, it was enough that she was safe and unhurt. It didn't matter what she was running from—only that she was running to him.

He brushed what felt like dried paint from her temple. “You been working in someone else's workshop, Rabbit?”

“No. I was just playing around with oils today. I tried to mix the colors to match the sky at dawn, but I couldn't get it right.”

“So, you paint.” He held his breath, fearing she'd think his statement was a question.

“Not much,” she answered. “Not lately.”

“Maybe I'll give you a chance to do it again.” He smiled at her. “I found an old rocking chair at a yard sale. It needs work, but I could repair the broken pieces of wood and you could paint it red.”

She nodded. “I'd like that. I've always wanted to paint a rocker.” She fought down a giggle but he saw her smile.

The sound of a car passing on the road fifty yards away made her jump, but she didn't leave his arms. When they heard the car pull off the road and head toward them, Yancy held her tighter. He could hear rocks crunching and winter-dead weeds snapping as the tires moved down the rut of a path to the house that no one ever used.

A beam of light flashed through a crack in the door.

They were about to have a visitor and there was no way out except through the barn doors. Yancy felt her panic as he moved his hand across her back trying to comfort her.

He knew she wanted to run, but from the sounds outside, the car couldn't be more than five feet from the barn door.

Without hesitation, Yancy picked her up. With one step onto his toolbox and another on the table, he was high enough to lift her into the loft. “Get back behind the boards and don't move.”

“But—”

“Go, Rabbit. I'll stand guard. No matter what happens, don't come out.”

She scrambled up. A car door opened somewhere outside. Yancy jumped from the table and ran the few feet to the loft ladder. He swung it down and shoved it beneath the table, where it blended with a pile of loose boards and scraps of materials he'd planned to trash.

As he picked up his hammer, he moved so that he faced the door, the table now between him and whoever might be showing up at this hour.

A car door slammed and footsteps sounded, coming closer, making no effort to be silent.

Yancy raised his hammer. If trouble stepped in through the barn doors, he could throw the tool and have another pulled from the wall behind him before the stranger could react. If someone were coming for the woman in the loft, they'd have to get past him first.

The door creaked and cold air rushed in as if the barn were inhaling.

“Yancy?” a low voice called. “You in here?”

Yancy was so relieved that he almost dropped the hammer. “Fifth,” he answered as Deputy Weathers stepped through the opening. “You scared the hell out of me, man.”

The tall officer smiled. “Sorry, I tend to have that effect on people. It's hard for me to sneak into a place. I've tried lathering my whole body with lard because someone said it was shortening, but it didn't work.”

“Very funny.” Yancy tried to calm his nerves, but they were still jumping under his skin. “Sounds like a joke one of the old retired teachers would tell.”

“It is. Mrs. Ollie told it to me the other day.”

Yancy forced himself not to look up at the loft. Rabbit wouldn't come down, and he had to act like it was just an ordinary night. “You must be helping Mrs. Ollie practice so she can get her driver's permit back. She always tells jokes when she's nervous.”

“Yeah, she's doing better with her driving than she is with her stand-up comedy career. Drives fine, just can't remember if she should be in the right or left lane. Which complicates things on all these two-lane roads.”

Yancy nodded. He'd ridden with her once. His life had flashed before him so many times he thought it was in permanent reruns.

Normally, he would have visited, but tonight all he could think about was saying goodbye to his friend. “What brings you out this late, Deputy? Coming in from a date or on official business?”

“No date. I was just driving home and saw the light. Don't usually see you working this late. Thought something might be wrong.”

“No,” Yancy said, “I'm just finishing up a project. I get out here working and forget about time.”

The deputy pulled off his hat, leaned against one of the other tables and crossed his arms. He appeared to be planted there for a while. “I almost had a date a few days ago. One of the O'Grady clan. Tall and lean with the prettiest red hair you've ever seen. We had a lunch date.”

“Really?” Yancy tried to act interested.

Weathers shook his head. “I think I just wanted it to be a date. She was something, but I didn't get any signals that she was interested in me.”

“Why not ask her out again? Maybe you'll grow on her.” Yancy added, “She's still staying out at the Kirkland place.”

Weathers laughed. “This town is way too small. How'd you know?”

“Cap Fuller's grandson waited on you at the window of the Dairy Queen. He told Cap you had a tall redhead with you. Anyone in this county with reddish hair is probably an O'Grady and the only one visiting is Quinn Kirkland's niece. Kirkland told his grandmother when he visited her that she was staying with them.”

Fifth frowned and Yancy laughed.

“That does it,” Fifth swore. “I'm asking her out and taking her across the county line to eat. Nothing ever happens in this town that everyone doesn't know about.” Weathers put his hat back on and headed toward the door. “By the way, this is going to be one fine house when you get it done.”

“It keeps me busy.” The last thing Yancy wanted to do was talk about his work, but he couldn't exactly tell the deputy to leave. Fifth was not only a lawman, but he'd become Yancy's friend. “This is late for you to be out, Fifth. Don't you have to be in the office by eight?”

“Sure, but I'm working on a missing-person case. You haven't seen a woman around? Small build. Long black hair. Midtwenties.”

“Nope,” Yancy lied. “What'd she do?”

“Nothing. She's just missing. Has been since the end of January. Left her car at the bus station in Liberal. Woman matching her description bought a ticket to Santa Fe, but never made it there. Bus driver thinks she must have left the bus somewhere in Texas. He said he had a crowd riding that night and barely remembered her. Once she made the missing persons' list, we've had reports of her buying a SUV in Waco and getting drunk in a bar near Amarillo. That's what happens when someone puts out a quarter-million-dollar reward. She gets more sightings than aliens do.”

“If it's illegal to get off the bus, I'm a wanted man, too.” Yancy kept his voice low and even, but it bothered him that someone was offering money for her. It made her sound like an outlaw.

What if the missing woman was his Rabbit? There were lots of small women in their twenties who had dark hair. Hundreds. Thousands in Texas.

The deputy shook his head. “She's not wanted, just missing. I don't know much about her except there are a hell of a lot of people looking for her. They're calling all the places where the bus stops, asking for information. Even got a few big-time private eyes tracking her, I've heard.”

“There are dozens of bus stops in Texas.” Yancy wanted to ask more questions, but he knew Rabbit was listening.

Weathers shoved the door open. “That's why I'm not wasting too much time looking. If I were on that Greyhound route, this town would probably be the last place I'd climb off the bus.”

“Maybe it was dark. The view of the water tower is better then.”

Both men laughed as the deputy moved out into the night. “Don't work too late, Yancy.”

“I won't,” he answered. He stood at the door and waved as Weathers backed out. The moon was up and the rain had stopped, leaving a shine on everything. Folks laughed about how plain the land was here in West Texas, how the wind seemed to turn everything to shades of brown, but locals saw the beauty.

Yancy closed the barn door and threw the latch from the inside. Something he'd never done before. “You can come down, Rabbit.” He kept his voice low, knowing that she could hear him.

She looked over the edge. “No ladder?”

“I'll catch you.”

And he did.

If he held on to her a little too long, a little too tightly, she didn't complain.

When he set her down, she took her time moving away. She was growing used to him being near and Yancy knew without a doubt that he was growing addicted to her.

They worked in silence for an hour. He had a dozen questions, but he didn't ask a one. She showed him a way to cut the poles that would become a railing along the staircase. The cuts were all different from each other, shaping the poles at various angles, and at first he thought they were mismatched. Only when she laid them out in a row he saw the pattern flowing like a wave up the stairs.

“It reminds me of the way the wind makes the tall grass dip and flow,” she said then bit her lip as if suddenly unsure of her work. “You can change it if...”

“I love it.” He'd never seen anything like it. The staircase seemed to move and flow as he crossed the room. “I'll have a work of art in my house thanks to you.”

“We've still got a lot of work to go before they're sanded and stained.”

“How'd you learn to create something so beautiful out of blocks of wood?” The question was out before he thought.

“My dad taught me. I had a playhouse with a staircase like this.”

Yancy smiled, glad he hadn't upset her with his question. “I had a box in the vacant field next to our apartment once. I called it my hideout, until some homeless guy took it over.”

They both laughed.

When she picked up his coat as if it were now hers, he knew their night was over.

“Sorry about crying,” she said. “And for stealing your coat, which I'll give back as soon as the nights warm.”

“No problem.” He moved to unlatch the door. “One thing I have to ask, Rabbit. Are you safe when you leave here?”

She nodded. “I stay in the shadows of the trees when I walk. I have a safe hideout to live in with no homeless folks nearby.”

“I hope it's not made of cardboard.”

Standing on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “It's not. See you tomorrow night.”

Yancy turned and let their lips touch, making the kiss more than a peck, but just short of passionate.

He felt her tremble again.

Without moving, he whispered against her moist lips, “You'll always be safe here.”

She moved away, but he saw the truth in her rainy-day blue eyes. She believed him. Maybe she wasn't afraid of him. Maybe she was more afraid of being close to anyone.

Standing in the open doorway, he watched her disappear into the night. He'd broken a rule tonight. He'd lied to the law and he didn't care. He'd do it again and again if the lies would keep her safe.