Immortal Cowboy. Alexis Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Chapter 2

      The road leading up to Ray’s cabin was in far better condition than she’d remembered, but otherwise it all looked the same. Funny, it felt as if the cabin had been patiently waiting all these years for her return, but this time as owner rather than guest.

      Rayanne eased her car around a slow bend to the right, her pulse picking up speed even if the car didn’t. After fifteen years, she was about to catch her first glimpse of the chimney that marked the location of her new home. The trees had grown taller, but she could just make out a glimpse of gray stone.

      Tension had been riding her hard ever since she’d learned of Ray’s death. All the arguments about her decision to take a last-minute leave of absence from her job and move to the mountain hadn’t helped. But as she neared the cabin and the freedom it had always represented, the muscles in her shoulders and neck eased, and her mood lightened.

      “Well, Uncle Ray, we’re almost there.”

      Wouldn’t her mother freak out to hear Rayanne carrying on a one-sided conversation with her uncle? Well, not him, exactly, but the pewter urn that contained his last remains. One of the sidebars in his will was a request that Rayanne scatter his ashes on the mountain. He’d left it up to Rayanne to pick the time and place.

      But until she carried out his wishes, she found comfort in the notion that her uncle was riding shotgun and could actually hear her. Maybe she was losing her mind just like her mother had said when she learned Rayanne had willingly accepted the terms of the will without a court fight.

      Not that her mom’s opinion mattered. The mountain and the town that had haunted Rayanne for years was now hers, lock, stock and belfry. That is, provided she moved there and stayed through the entire summer. Come September, she was free to stay on or move back to the city. But if she didn’t follow the dictates of her uncle’s will to the letter, the entire estate would pass to a distant cousin. She couldn’t bear the thought of that happening.

      It hadn’t been a surprise that Shawn had agreed with her parents. However, if there was any hope of a future for the two of them, she needed to find the answers she’d been looking for.

      “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Uncle Ray, but I don’t plan to live up here for the rest of my life.”

      A stab of guilt had her giving the urn a remorseful glance. “But I will stay long enough to find answers to questions that my folks would never let me ask. And with luck, I can find enough information about the short history of Blessing itself to write a paper.”

      Her mouth curved in a wide smile as she considered the possibilities. If she didn’t have enough information for a scholarly paper, there was another option. She loved historical romances, and she already knew the time period inside and out. Surely she could come up with a story line that fit the few facts about Blessing that she’d been able to uncover.

      The ideas twirled and danced through her head. A beautiful schoolteacher for the heroine would be just the ticket. And the hero would be the sheriff, strong and valiant and handsome. She could picture Shawn in the role, his arm around her waist as together they defied the bad guys.

      But then a vision of a gunslinger dressed in black shoved that picture aside, replacing it instead with a man who moved with predatory grace and had a killer’s ice-colored stare. Wyatt McCain. Rayanne flushed hot and then cold. A woman would have to be a fool to think a man like that could be anyone’s hero.

      The excitement died just that quickly.

      Finally, the last of the trees faded into an open meadow. Her breath caught in her throat as the cabin came into sight. She hit the brakes, bringing her car to an abrupt halt, needing time to adjust to the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. It was almost impossible to sort them all out—relief, trepidation, remembered joy and a great deal of pain that Uncle Ray would never be waiting there to greet her again.

      She put the car back into gear and slowly pulled up in front of the cabin. The sun was already sliding down the far side of the sky. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be unpacking in the dark. The idea worried her more than she’d expected it to.

      She pulled out the ring of keys that the attorney had given her at their last visit. Each one was carefully labeled in Uncle Ray’s familiar scrawl. She picked up the urn and stepped up on the porch.

      As the door swung open, Rayanne stepped back through time. Her uncle hadn’t changed a thing since she’d left all those years ago. Maybe there were a few more books stuffed in the shelves and the sofa was a bit more worn, but that was all. She set the urn down on a small table in the corner and got busy settling in.

      * * *

      Bedtime always came early on the mountain. As Rayanne brushed her teeth, she studied her image in the mirror. Uncle Ray’s hair had been a little curlier than hers, but the color had been the same, a shade somewhere between blond and red. They’d also shared a tendency to freckle during the summer and the same bright green eyes. In a lot of ways, she’d resembled her favorite relative more than she had either one of her parents. Once again, the thought of him had her eyes stinging with the threat of tears.

      It was definitely time to crawl into bed. Would coming here intensify her nightmares? She sure hoped not. The past several nights she’d slept without incident, a huge relief. She stepped across the threshold into her bedroom, happy that her childhood sanctuary had remained unchanged.

      She turned down the quilt that had covered the bed for longer than either she or Ray had been alive. Trailing her fingers over the familiar patches of fabric, she wondered again about the people who had worn the various bits and pieces of cloth in shirts and dresses.

      Had they been happy in their lives? She closed her eyes as she caressed the cloth, worn smooth and soft by the years. Maybe another girl had slept under this very same quilt, tucked in by loving hands with a kiss and a wish for sweet dreams or maybe the quilt had been a wedding gift for a bride about to start her new life as a wife.

      She doubted she would ever know the real answers, but it didn’t matter. The warmth of the quilt gave her a connection to the past, one that appealed to her deep interest in history. Stretching out on the narrow bed felt like heaven. A huge yawn surprised a giggle out of her as she turned onto her back to watch the sweep of the stars and moon through the skylight overhead. Just as she had as a small girl, she fell asleep counting the stars twinkling in the night sky.

      * * *

      A new energy had arrived on the mountain, altering the patterns and drawing his attention toward the cabin. Ray’s niece was back. He recognized her even though she’d grown into a woman with long legs and ridiculously short hair.

      Drifting closer to the porch, he stared up at the open window high up near the peak of the roof. The man’s room had been on the other side. He’d always kept his window closed and the doors locked against the perils of the darkness, real and imagined.

      But the girl had her window open to the night. Would she continue to keep it that way if she found out about him and the others? A grim smile crossed his face briefly. Hell, even the others knew to steer clear of him. They certainly recognized bad news when they saw it; maybe the girl would, too.

      The light in the window winked out. He lost interest in his vigil and moved away, back toward town. Folks still called it Blessing. What a joke that was, one he doubted the others appreciated. But then he didn’t give a damn what they thought, any more than they cared about him.

      He СКАЧАТЬ