A Haunted Twist of Fate (15 page)

“You’re not confused about this,” Colt insisted.
“Look.”  He shoved the sleeve of his shirt up his arm. “The hairs are standing
up on my arms. That must mean something.”

“Don’t be silly.” Shay closed the photo album and
placed it on top of the bureau. “Cynthia Averill was a beautiful woman. I can
see why Dean married her. But I’m often mistaken for someone else. For years,
people have come up to me and told me I look exactly like their sister. Or I remind
them of a friend they knew years ago. It happens all the time. Guess I have one
of those faces.”

Colt shook his head. “No way. How can you not see
the resemblance? With all that’s going on, I’d think you’d find the similarity
between the two of you unnerving. I do.”

“They say everyone has a twin,” Shay said, not
understanding why Colt was getting riled up.

“But not everyone is visited by ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” Frank had been silently observing her this
whole time. He now stared at Colt for a moment and then looked at Shay again. “Are
you seeing ghosts in the Buckhorn?” he asked.

She glanced at Colt, who nodded to give her the go
ahead to tell him.

“Yes, I am. I don’t want to upset you, but I’m
hoping you can help me figure out who the spirits are. Colt tells me your
father inherited the saloon from your grandfather, and then you took it over
for a number of years.”

“That’s right. But running a bar wasn’t for me. I
preferred hardware and tools. Got tired of dealing with drunks and trouble
makers.”

“Was that the real reason you got out of the
business, Frank?” Colt asked. “Several times, I remember Granddaddy mentioning
something about the ghosts that ran you out of the saloon. I never took his
stories to heart until now.”

Frank’s gaze pierced Colt like he was psychically
willing him to shut up. Then his expression softened again when Shay leaned
over and patted his hand. Inside, her heart jumped because she knew Frank was
hiding the truth.

“It would mean a lot to me to know if you had any of
the same experiences I’m having now,” she said quietly. “I feel like I’m being
sent messages, but I don’t know what they are or what they mean.”

“Okay,” Frank relented. “I’ll talk about it.” He
jabbed a finger into Colt’s arm.  “But you’d better not tell a soul about this
conversation. I don’t want to be a laughing stock.”

“Promise,” Colt said, drawing an invisible X over
his chest.  He scooted two chairs up to Frank’s bedside, and he and Shay sat.
She delved into Frank’s clear eyes and took a deep breath before beginning her
questioning.

“Frank, did you ever see the spirit of a young woman
with blonde hair? I think she may have been a saloon girl many years ago. She
would have lived in your grandfather’s time. Her name was Callie Hayes. Do you
recognize that name?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Never heard of her and
never seen her.”

“What about Everett? Do you have any knowledge or
recollection of a man by that name?”

Frank thought a moment. “Everett who?”

“I don’t know his last name.  But I believe he’s the
man who murdered this girl, Callie Hayes.”

Frank flinched. “Murder? What’s she talking about,
Colt?”

Colt explained about the marks around the neck of
the apparition, how the woman had asked for Shay’s help, and all the unusual
things that had been occurring in the saloon, including the entity that had
tried to throw her out the window.

“Oh, no.”  Visibly distressed, Frank squeezed his
eyes shut and clamped his mouth closed. Shay realized she’d gone too far with
the questions. She believed he might have witnessed something evil inside the
Buckhorn, too.  But for whatever reason, Frank was now unwilling to discuss it.

Disappointed, but not wanting to cause the man
further anguish, she tried to assure him. “That’s okay, Frank. You don’t have
to talk about anything you don’t want. Maybe we can visit another time.” Standing,
she signaled to Colt it was time to leave.

“I’ll stop by and see you tomorrow,” Colt told
Frank.  He gently clapped him on the shoulder.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Shay said,
squeezing his hand. “Thank you for talking with me today. I’m sorry if I upset
you. I hope you feel better soon.” As she strolled from the room, she looked
over her shoulder to see he fixed her with a poignant stare.  She realized he
most likely knew his days were numbered.

* * * * *

After Opal had showed Colt and Shay to the door, she
entered Frank’s room to discover him in an agitated state. She rushed to his
side.  “Frank, what’s wrong? Are you having an attack?”

“No. Get me the picture,” he wheezed. “You know
which one.”

Opal pulled open the bottom drawer of the same
dresser where the photo album had been stored and retrieved a five-by-seven
picture frame. Since she’d been working for him, he’d only asked her one other
time to bring it out. The frame usually stayed hidden beneath old shirts Frank
no longer wore. She handed it to him. “You haven’t asked to see this in a
while.”

Opal fell silent as Frank studied the faded color
photograph. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked. “Don’t she look like the
woman who was just here?”

Opal examined the photo and then patted Frank’s arm.
He was becoming more sentimental and befuddled as each day passed. She was
afraid he wouldn’t last much longer. To appease him, she said, “They’re both
real pretty gals, no doubt about it.”

Frank laid the photo face down on his chest and
closed his eyes.

“Let’s take your blood pressure,” Opal suggested,
reaching for the cuff. “Then I’ll give you a pill so you can sleep.”

She felt terrible he had no family to be with him in
his final days. Colt was as close to family as Frank had left. Frank was a nice
old man, and she hated to see him fading. Unfortunately, watching patients die
came with the territory. Still, it broke her heart.

Twenty-Five

“Frank didn’t give us much,” Colt said, helping Shay
into the truck. He jumped in on his side and backed up and headed for Main
Street.

She sighed. “I get the feeling he had paranormal
experiences in the saloon when he owned it, but I didn’t want to push him. He
looks so fragile.”  She felt Colt’s eyes on her. When she turned her head, he
was smiling.

“You really didn’t see the likeness between you and
Cynthia Averill?” he asked.

It was impossible to deny that both Colt and Frank
thought there was a similarity, but it was just one of those things. What she’d
told them was true. All her life, people had mistaken her for someone else.

“I guess we look a little bit alike, if you consider
us both being short and having long hair a resemblance.  The photo was grainy.
Don’t think too hard on it. You told me Frank has his senile moments.”

“True.” Colt reached over and grasped her hand.

The familiarity between them was growing more
comfortable with each touch and kiss. His hand felt warm and comforting and
strong.

“I think you need to forget about ghosts for a while,”
he suggested. “My brother’s birthday is tomorrow and Mama asked me to invite
you over to the house for supper and cake.”

That caught her off guard. Apparently he hadn’t told
his mom that there was nothing between them. “That’s so sweet of your mother to
invite me. Does she think we’re dating?”

A sheepish grin filled his face. “Yes. She’s been
trying to hook me up with ladies for a few years now. She just assumed . . .”

“You haven’t told her you’re not interested in a committed
relationship?” Shay was confused. Why wouldn’t his family know that, if he were
so opposed to marrying again?

“She worries about me being alone. You know how
mothers are.”

Shay did know. Her mother had been a caring and
loving woman, and Shay missed her every single day. Colt’s mom seemed just as
loving. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to accept her invitation. Some down time
with Colt’s family might be what she needed to take her mind off of all that
was going on.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked, not wanting him
to feel pressured.

“Sure. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t.”

“You don’t think your brother will mind my being
there?”

“Hell, no. The more the merrier.”

“Thank you, Colt. It’s been a long time since I’ve
enjoyed a family celebration of any kind. And your family seems so nice. You’re
right. It’ll be good to forget about ghosts for a day.”

He squeezed her hand. “We’re glad to have you.
Especially me.”

He flashed a dazzling smile that caused her insides
to melt like hot butter. Despite the mixed messages she’d been getting from him
since they’d met, she had a hard time controlling the way she felt. She was so
attracted to him, but still afraid of getting hurt. Could be he was acting one
way, but felt another when it came down to brass tacks.

When he slammed the gearshift into park, she
realized they were already at the Buckhorn. “That didn’t take long to get back.”

“We hit all the green lights this time.”

They were still holding hands with their fingers
twined. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” she asked, immediately wishing
she’d left well enough alone.

“Yes, I do. I have a dinner meeting with some other
realtors.”

“Oh.”

“Why? What’d you have in mind?” 

She had no idea what she’d had in mind. Her brain
had not caught up with her big mouth. “I thought I could cook for you. Pay you
back for the pizza. Maybe another night.”

He scooted to the center of the seat and gazed into
her eyes. “I could come over for dessert.”

She shivered when he leaned in and grazed her neck
with his lips. How did he know that was one of her sensitive spots?

“That would work,” she breathed.  She tilted her
neck and closed her eyes, and relinquished herself to the tingles that raced
through her body as Colt lightly nibbled the arch of her neck. The musky scent
of his aftershave drifted into her nostrils, causing her to feel lightheaded. She
knew she should stop him, but it had been so long since a man had wanted her.

When his lips found hers and they melded, he put his
arms around her and crushed her to his chest. The pounding of his beating heart
matched hers in perfect rhythm as they kissed.

She finally pulled back and rasped, “I guess I’d
better let you go.” If she didn’t put an end to this, they’d end up lying on
the seat making out in broad daylight. She wasn’t interested in giving anyone
in town a show, but the devilish twinkle in his eyes revealed he wouldn’t care
if that were to happen.

Passion flashed in his eyes when he replied, “I’ll
be over at eight o’clock. Sharp.”

Shay couldn’t speak. She could only smile as she
pushed open the door and slid off the seat. When he winked, she waved and
stepped onto the sidewalk with her insides jumping. After he’d pulled away, she
inhaled several deep breaths and wondered what trouble she’d just agreed to.

“Dessert. Nothing more,” she murmured, trying to
convince herself that was all there would be. “He’s coming over for coffee and
dessert.”

Well aware of his double meaning when he’d said the
word
dessert
, she was determined not to let him get the upper hand
tonight. Although her foot was still sore, she decided to take her time and
stroll to the corner grocery.  She had nothing in her kitchen, and she fully
intended to have something edible for him when he came over.

While browsing through the aisles, she had no idea
of what to buy. Was Colt a cheesecake man? Did he like ice cream? Was he
partial to pie? All men liked pie, but she’d never made a homemade one before. The
freezer section of the small store had three types to choose from. She picked
the cherry and bought a container of vanilla ice cream, too.

As she ambled home, she was more than aware of the
fact that, besides not knowing what kind of sweets he liked, there were a
million other things she didn’t know about Colt. That was all the more reason
for her to keep her emotions in check tonight. Falling for a man too soon had
gotten her in trouble before.

Unlocking the door to the saloon, she stepped in and
angled her head. All was silent for the moment. There was plenty of time to
bake the pie, so after popping it and the ice cream into the freezer, she walked
up the stairs, feeling light as cotton.

It was not easy to get a man like Colt out of her
head. No matter how many logical protests she considered, there was no denying
the connection she felt to him. If she was a believer in reincarnation, she
would have thought they’d been lovers, or husband and wife, in another time and
place.

Lovers
. The word
conjured up images best put into the locked corner of her mind. At
thirty-three, she’d had a few, including the two men she’d been engaged to. But
lovers came a dime a dozen. That was a lesson both men had taught her. They’d
used her to get to her father’s money. Being a man’s lover no longer meant to
her what it once did.