Official Duty. Doreen Roberts

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Two

      It was late afternoon, the following day, when Ginny drove the white Taurus she’d rented into Gold Peak. There was only one motel in that whole miserable town and it was the last place on earth she wanted to stay. The motel had been built before she was born and the ancient, decaying building she remembered had not improved with time.

      She’d thought about staying in Rapid City, which at least boasted a halfway decent hotel but that meant driving the extra forty miles back to town and she was already exhausted. A sleepless night and the scramble to get on a plane early that morning had taken its toll.

      All the rooms had outside doors that faced onto the parking lot and the only way to reach the upper floor was by a weather-beaten flight of stairs. Rather than walk up those creaking steps, she asked for a room on the ground floor.

      The room, as it turned out, wasn’t quite as bad as she’d feared. The bedding, though shabby, looked reasonably clean and the plumbing at least seemed to be working. The seascape hanging above the headboard looked out of place—a poor attempt to make the room less forbidding. It failed miserably.

      Reminding herself that it was only for one night, she took a quick, refreshing shower and changed into shorts and a T-shirt.

      Seated on the edge of the bed, she studied the phone for a long time before finally reaching for it. After stabbing out Cully’s number, she waited, heart thumping unevenly, for him to answer.

      His voice sounded wary when he answered, as if he’d known it would be her calling.

      She spoke quickly, afraid her raw emotion would be misinterpreted. “Cully? This is Ginny. I’m at the Sagebrush Motel. I just got into town. I need to talk to you. Is now a good time?”

      A slight pause, then his voice, deeper now, drawled in her ear again. “It’s almost suppertime. How about I meet you at the Red Steer in a half hour? We can get a bite to eat and talk there.”

      She’d deliberately held the memories at bay as she’d driven into town. There were things she didn’t want to remember about her life in Gold Peak. But at the mention of the Red Steer tavern, the past surged back into her mind just as sharp and as painful as if it were just a few days ago.

      It was there at the Red Steer when she’d first stepped into Cully’s arms. He’d asked her to dance and, egged on by Sally Irwin, her best friend, she’d accepted the challenge in Cully’s dark eyes. The moment his arms had closed around her, she’d known that nothing would ever be the same again.

      “Ginny?”

      She jumped and answered quickly. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just have a couple of questions, that’s all. I plan on visiting the graves, then getting to bed early. I have to drive back to the airport tomorrow.”

      “You gotta eat, don’t you?”

      “Well, yes, but I thought a pizza in my room…”

      “The steak’s still real good at the Red Steer. You always enjoyed a good steak. Besides, there’s something I need to tell you.”

      “Can’t you tell me on the phone?”

      “I think it’s better if we discuss it in person. Over that steak and a cold beer.”

      She struggled with indecision, torn between the tantalizing prospect of a wonderful steak dinner and her deep reluctance to face Cully again. She hadn’t planned on meeting him in person. If it hadn’t been for something that had occurred to her late last night and had been bothering her all day, she wouldn’t even have called him.

      Then again, she was hungry. The airline food had been skimpy and unpalatable. And maybe what she needed to ask him was better done in person after all. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

      She replaced the receiver, instantly regretting the impulse. Her mind in a whirl, she rummaged in her bag for the jeans she’d planned to wear on the plane the next day. After a lengthy debate with herself, she decided not to change the T-shirt. A dash of lipstick, a flick of the comb and she was ready. As ready as she was ever going to be, she thought ruefully.

      A few minutes later she drove out of the motel parking lot, followed by a grimy minivan. Its dark tinted windows made it difficult to see who drove it. She slowed to let it pass but it kept pace behind her, following her for the three miles to the tavern. Not surprising really, since there was only one road into town.

      Even so, the long months she’d spent hiding in the shadows had kept her constantly on guard, to the point where the most mundane thing could seem threatening.

      Driving down Main Street, she credited her shivery uneasiness to the memories that jarred her mind. The first time she’d stood, drained of emotion, in the huge living room of Mabel and Jim Corbett’s old house. The confusion of sharing her life with a dozen or so kids, all hurting inside like her, all afraid to trust.

      Cully had been one of those kids. Older than her by ten years, he’d left by the time she was nine. But if it hadn’t been for Cully, she never would have survived that first year in the foster home. She blinked hard, determined not to give in to the past. She’d left it all behind a long time ago. Too long ago.

      She parked in a familiar spot outside the Red Steer, noting with an absurd sense of relief that the minivan had passed on by. No matter how often she reminded herself that she no longer had anything to fear, it was tough to let go of the constant apprehension, the mistrust of anything unfamiliar.

      Her heart skipped when she saw the red Jeep Cherokee parked close to the entrance. It had to belong to Cully. He’d always been partial to red. She’d hoped to get there ahead of him—give herself time to reacquaint herself with the place before she had to deal with him.

      Every muscle in her body felt tight as she pushed through the swing doors that led into the dining room. The orange lamps, fastened to the walls in their wrought iron cages, were turned down low. The huge brick fireplace still dominated the room and in spite of the warmth outside, a crackling log fire spit flames up the massive chimney.

      She saw him at once. He was seated with his back to a window, facing the door as if he’d been watching for her. She pulled in a deep breath and walked unsteadily across the room, wishing like hell she’d listened to her instincts and ordered that pizza.

      Cully rose to his feet as she approached, his expression unreadable. He looked older, she noticed, and remembered with a shock that he was now forty-one years old. Deep creases etched the corners of his eyes. His hair, still springy and dark, showed no sign of gray, except for just above his ears at the temples.

      He’d filled out from the tall, lanky cowboy she remembered. His denim shirt stretched across a broad chest and beneath the rolled-up sleeves his upper arms were solid muscle. He wore the hard, tough look of a man who spent most of his days weathering the harsh environment of the mountains. It looked good on him. Too good.

      She reached the table and hesitated, wondering if she should shake hands or just sit down in the chair he’d pulled out. “It’s good to see you, Cully.” Even to her ears, her voice sounded stilted, almost hostile.

      Something flickered in his eyes, then he held out his hand. “You, too.”

      She watched her fingers briefly disappear in his warm, sunburned grip, then he let her go. His hand had felt strong, secure. It had been a mistake to come. СКАЧАТЬ