A Cowboy's Touch (27 page)

Her words were like salve on a wound, yet he rejected them. He looked away before he lost his resolve, before her words made sense.

“You think you’re defective or something,” she said. “I refuse to believe that. You’re a good man, Wade. Do you think God made you incapable of having a healthy relationship? He wouldn’t do that. You’re believing a lie.”

He hadn’t thought of it like that. He wanted to believe her—she’d never know how much. He’d tried so hard to protect others—Maddy, other women . . . Abigail.

She was so tempting, but what if she was wrong? What if he took a leap of faith and failed her too? He’d never forgive himself. He was already half in love with her.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I don’t want to be stupid. Or careless.”

“You’re neither of those things.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” she said. “I’ve kind of been out of the God-loop for a while, so maybe it’s crazy to mention this, but have you asked God about this?”

“Not really.”

“Don’t you think you should? If you’re going to give up women, maybe you should check with your Creator first.”

He released his breath with a grunt. For a woman who was out of the God-loop, she made a lot of sense. It was something to think about—pray about. Some Christian he was, not even praying about something so crucial. Maybe she was right—maybe it was a lie. But he’d believed it so long.

Wade was suddenly aware of her thigh touching his. Of the faint scent of her sweet perfume. It was becoming as familiar as the fragrance of a summer meadow, and just as welcome. She smelled so good, so . . . Abigail.

“Is it true you don’t dance with other women?”

He nodded slowly, the memory of holding Abigail stiffly in his arms so fresh. Not his finest moment.

“Got the ladies in there jealous. Now they’re all going to hate me.”

She was teasing, but it was a ridiculous thought. He’d seen Abigail in there tonight. In two months she’d managed to charm not only him and Maddy, but the whole town of Moose Creek.

“Nobody could hate you, Abby.”

As the seconds ticked by, the twinkle in her eyes faded.

And then he was gone. Gone in so many ways. Not just lost in the moment, but lost in Abigail. She’d come into his home and found her way into his boarded-up heart. She’d pulled off the sheets, dusted the corridors, and let the sun in again.

It felt good. He felt alive.
She
made him feel alive.

With his eyes, Wade followed the line of her nose down to its curved tip, to the fullness of her lips. Six days were too many. How’d he live so long without touching her that way again?

He leaned in, and she came to him willingly. She was soft and pliable. She touched the hair at his nape, and he shivered. He pulled her closer, and she fit like a missing puzzle piece, right into his chest. Right into his heart.

You love her, Ryan. No denying it
. God help him, it was true, whether he wanted to believe it or not. He’d meant to shut her out, had tried to shut her out, but there was no stopping it.

His old fear surfaced, poked its sharp claws into his flesh. What if something happened to Abigail? What if she was wrong? What if it
was
him? What if, in the moment she needed him most, he failed her?

No.

He tightened his arms around her and deepened the kiss. It was too late to turn back now. Even if it was true, he wouldn’t let any harm come to Abigail. He’d protect her with his life if necessary, same as Maddy.

Abigail framed his face with her soft hands before plowing them through his hair again. Her touch was getting him. His heart galloped in his chest, setting off tremors through his body. He had to call it quits before he did something they’d both regret.

Wade drew back, setting her away with hands on her shoulders. Abigail’s eyes opened, questioning. If only she knew how much strength it had taken. “Know what you do to me, city girl?”

The question seemed to ease her mind. The corner of her lips curled up. “Good to know.”

Wade pulled his gaze from hers before he got stuck there again, then retrieved his hat from where it had fallen. He set it on Abigail’s head and looked at her appreciatively. She made one heck of a cowgirl. “You were born to wear that thing.”

“A little big.”

He gazed at her face, loving the planes and curves that were becoming so familiar. “Fits just right.”

Abigail smiled. Her eyes told him she agreed.

“Go back inside?” he asked.

“Sure.” Abigail removed his hat and set it back on his head. She held his eyes for a long second. Just before she turned away, he thought he glimpsed a shadow passing over them.

28

A
bigail woke early the next morning, despite her late night. She stretched from her prone position, reveling in the feel of her muscles lengthening after being still all night.

She pulled the quilt to her chin and reviewed the kiss in her head just one more time. Who was she kidding? She’d revisit that one all she liked. And she liked it plenty.

She’d apparently danced with Wade enough times to stake her claim, as Dylan had put it, since no one else vied for his attention. She wondered what Maddy thought of them spending so much time together and realized it was a conversation they’d need to have. She hadn’t seemed bothered. She’d smiled and waved across the floor a few times.

Wade had loosened up once they went back inside the Chuck-wagon, and the group had cut up together at the table. Abigail hadn’t laughed so hard in ages. And then the slow dances would come, and she’d feel as if she were in a dream, his strong arms around her, her head tucked into the nook under his chin. She wanted to stay there forever.

And maybe she would. Maybe her story wouldn’t come between them the way she feared. Maybe he was tired of hiding here. Maybe it would come as a relief. Especially when he saw the good things she was writing about him.

And there were so many good things about him. A smile curved her lips, just thinking about him. Something she’d said last night must’ve made sense, because gone was the guarded Wade, and in his place was a man Abigail could spend the rest of her life getting to know.

So this is what it feels like
, she thought, sighing. This warm feeling that flowed through her at the very thought of him. She bent her knees, tenting the quilt. After church she’d have lunch with Aunt Lucy, then she’d spend the afternoon with Wade and Maddy. Maybe later they’d pack a picnic and head to Boulder Pass. She envisioned the kisses she and Wade might sneak under the weeping willow and let out another contented sigh.

First, though, church. She had a few minutes before she had to get ready, so she propped up on the bed and grabbed her laptop. Reagan was supposed to go out with Dr. Steve again last night, and Abigail wanted to see how it had gone.

Nothing from Reagan, only an e-mail from her mom. She clicked on it.

What do you think?
her mom had written.

Below the message, an attachment was embedded. Abigail scrolled down.

Her stomach dropped to her toes. The mock-up of the
Viewpoint
cover filled the screen. Wade stared back at her with those startlingly blue eyes and cocky smile.

Cowboy Corralled
, the blurb said in a large, bold font.
Where has J. W. Ryan been hiding, and why did he disappear after the mysterious death of his wife?

Abigail stared at the cover. Reread the words, seeing it as Wade would when it hit the newsstands. He wouldn’t be relieved at all when he saw this cover, read those words.

Was there any way he’d forgive her? Any way his feelings for her would remain steadfast in light of such a betrayal?

The warm pleasant feeling that had flowed through her was replaced by a heavy weight. The flip side of love: loss. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Wade. Couldn’t stand the thought of him and Maddy feeling she’d betrayed them.

Abigail slapped the laptop shut, not wanting to see the image, not wanting to think about the story from Wade’s perspective. She sprang from the bed and paced the confines of her room.

What could she do? What would happen if she told him the truth? If she told them how the story had fallen into her lap?

But what if Wade told her to leave? How could she leave when she’d only just discovered she loved him? And more than that, she loved Maddy. They were good for each other. She’d begun to think of them as a family, had begun to imagine that they could become a real one. How could she hurt them?

She couldn’t. She had to get out of this.

Abigail retrieved her cell and dialed her mom. While the phone rang, Abigail looked at the laptop sitting innocently on the nightstand. She thought of the magazine and its precarious position. She loved Wade, but she loved her mother too. The column was scheduled, the cover designed, the marketing planned. How was she going to get out of it?

Her mom answered groggily.

“Hi, Mom,” Abigail said quietly.

“Abigail. Did you get the cover?”

Abigail ran her hand over her face. “I did.”

“And . . .”

She didn’t know what to say or how to say it. How could she let her mother down? The whole thing had been Abigail’s idea. She’d started this chain of events, and now she was going to bail? No matter what she did, it seemed like the wrong thing. Abigail nearly moaned.

“Abs? You didn’t like it?”

“Mom, I . . . I don’t know if I can do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“The story, Wade, the magazine . . . I’m so confused.”

“You’re scaring me, honey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Abigail smothered a hysterical laugh. What’s wrong was that she was in love with the subject of her investigation. What’s wrong was that he was going to hate her when he found out.

“Mom, I have feelings for Wade—for J. W. Ryan. Real feelings.”

The pause rang loudly over the phone. “I see.”

“I know everyone’s counting on me, on this story, but—”

But what? She was ditching her mom and the entire
Viewpoint
staff in favor of a new guy in her life?

“You’ve never had trouble separating your emotions from a story. Is your hypertension acting up, affecting your work? You’re under too much stress.”

“It’s not my health, Mom. I’m just having second thoughts.”

“Honey, I sympathize, really, I do. But these things have a way of working themselves out.
Viewpoint
’s future is dependent upon this story. The cover gets finalized tomorrow. It’s too late to go back to the drawing board.”

“I’ve barely started the article anyway. And I still haven’t gotten to the bottom of Elizabeth’s death.”

“I don’t mean to play the guilt card, but a lot of people are counting on this story, Abs.”

“I know, I know.” So many jobs at stake. It was selfish to back out.

“There’s still time to get the rest of the facts. And you’re a talented writer, sweetie. You said you were sure he had nothing to do with her death. You could cast J. W. in the role of hero. By the time you’re finished, he’ll be thanking you.”

Ha. She doubted that. But maybe she could paint him so favorably he’d come off, well, just like he was. She’d only have to tell the truth.

“Tell him about the story before the issue hits the stands. Surely he’ll see your side. It’s not like you went there intending to deceive him. You happened upon the story and agreed to it before you had feelings for him. If anyone understands what it’s like to be backed into a corner, it’s him.”

That was true. “But the media, Mom. You know they’ll descend on this town for interviews. He and Maddy came here to get away from all that. He just wants to be left alone.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that. A press conference might get them off his back—wait a minute. Didn’t you say Moose Creek was struggling financially? Something about trying to become a tourist destination?”

“It’s a failing town. The mayor wanted to restore its position as the Gateway to Yellowstone, but it’s not working out.”

“Wouldn’t the media’s presence benefit that effort? With so much publicity, people would rediscover Moose Creek. Wade’s living there would kind of make it the chic new rustic getaway destination.”

Abigail hadn’t thought of that. Could her article possibly save Aunt Lucy’s shop, the Chuckwagon, Pappy’s Market, the other shops? Wasn’t a little unwanted publicity for Wade a small price to pay to benefit the whole town? She hoped he’d see it that way.

“I’ve got it,” Mom said. “We can feature Moose Creek as a destination in the travel section for the October issue. Elaine had a piece on New Orleans, but we’ll table that. You can write the article yourself if you’d like.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Maybe by the time this was over, the town would thank her. Surely Wade would forgive her when he saw how hard she was working to help Moose Creek.

“I know J. W. might be angry at first, but a lot of good will come from this. If he has feelings for you, surely he’ll understand.”

Maybe he would. If she wrote the biggest story of her life and handled it with care. The publicity would be short-lived, a small price to pay for the benefit to the whole community.