The Cowgirl in Question Part 19

"I also wrote you about things that were going on in town, the weather, funny things that had happened at the cafe." She seemed to choke back a sob.

"Oh, Ca.s.sidy," he said, closing his eyes as he stepped to her and pulled her back into his arms. "I wish you'd mailed the letters."

He heard Cash come into the room, hesitate then clear his throat. Rourke let go of Ca.s.sidy and turned to face his brother. He didn't need to look far to see the disapproval on Cash's face.

"The highway patrol just picked up Cecil Danvers about a quarter mile from here in the ditch," Cash said, turning his attention to Ca.s.sidy. "He's drunk and bleeding from cuts on his hands. He admitted to coming after you, Ca.s.sidy. Any idea why?"

"I went out there this morning and asked him questions about his brother's murder," she said as if that explained it.

Cash shot Rourke a look. "This is your doing."

Rourke nodded and cursed himself. "I should never have gotten her involved."

"I am am involved," she said. involved," she said.

Cash, to Rourke's surprise, nodded in agreement. "Well, Cecil is in jail so you won't have to worry about him. I doubt there is any chance he could make bail even if the judge allowed it. But you can't stay here. I was thinking I have that big, old house-"

"I'm taking her with me," Rourke said. "I'll see that nothing happens to her out at the cabin."

Cash motioned Rourke outside. "We'll just be a moment, Ca.s.sidy."

"What?" Rourke demanded, once they were out of earshot, although he knew what.

"Ca.s.sidy."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No, I just don't want to see her hurt."

"I don't, either," Rourke said. "I thought we already had this discussion?"

Cash sighed. "You know how you are with women."

"Actually, I don't. I was twenty-two when I went to prison."

"I would have thought you would hook up with Blaze as soon as you got out," Cash said.

Rourke nodded. "I would have thought so, too."

"Don't tell me she's not interested in you."

"Don't spread it around town, but it seems that my taste in women has changed." Rourke hadn't known how much. It was still hard for him to believe that Blaze no longer appealed to him and Ca.s.sidy did but not in the same way. With Blaze it was fun and games, nothing serious. With Ca.s.sidy...he felt shy, he thought with a laugh.

"What?" Cash demanded.

"I think I might finally be growing up. Don't look so surprised. I've got a ways to go."

Cash just shook his head. Back inside, Cash asked Ca.s.sidy what she wanted to do. Before she could answer, Rourke said, "She's coming with me." Then he added quietly to Ca.s.sidy, "Let me do this."

Ca.s.sidy seemed to hesitate, then nodded slowly.

Cash sighed. "I'll see about getting a sample of Cecil's handwriting when he sobers up so we can compare it to the threats you both received. I wouldn't be surprised if the handwriting matches."

Rourke glanced at Ca.s.sidy. She didn't believe that any more than he did. Cecil did things like break into a house with his bull head and no plan. He didn't write notes to scare someone. He came after the person with a sawed-off shotgun or his fists.

"I'll call Simon at the lumberyard and have him secure your house for you until he can put in a new window," Cash said to Ca.s.sidy.

"Thank you, Cash."

He nodded, looking worried. "We don't know yet if Cecil killed Forrest. So, be careful, okay?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he breaks down and confesses," Rourke said. "It would definitely explain why he was acting odder than usual the night Forrest was murdered." He told Cash about what Ca.s.sidy had learned.

"Cecil caught a ride with Blaze?" Cash said. "Then he was there during the fight and even for a while afterward. He could have known where Forrest was headed, could have gone up there easily enough after he got a ride home-or even been waiting for Forrest when Forrest got there."

"Looks like Cecil just pushed himself to the head of the suspect list," Rourke said.

Ca.s.sIDY HAD HEARD about the McCall cabin on the lake but she'd never been there before.

"It's pretty rustic," Rourke said as he parked behind it. He sounded as if he was worried she wouldn't like the place. Was it possible she was the first woman he'd ever brought here?

The inside of the cabin was small but neat, everything in miniature.

"This is your bedroom," he said pointing into a room with four bunk beds and a large chest of drawers. "It's the big one," he said with a laugh. "This is the master bedroom."

She walked the few feet to the next room and peeked inside. He was right. It was just large enough for a double bed. "This must have been your parents' room."

"Way back when. It's funny but Asa never slept in there after her alleged death. He always opted for the porch cot and let us boys fight over who got the big bed." He smiled. "I thought it was because he missed my mother and couldn't deal with her death. Now I'm not so sure."

"Couldn't it just be that he loved her and the room reminded him of everything he'd given up?"

Rourke looked down at her for a long moment. She practically squirmed under his intensity.

"Maybe you're right," he said quietly. "Want to see the rest of the cabin?" He led her through a small living-room area with rustic furniture and a bookshelf filled with cla.s.sics and board games. No TV.

"It's wonderful," she cried, then blushed.

"I'm glad you like it," he said. "I don't have much in the fridge, but I do have beer," he said as he stepped into the kitchen. He turned and held up a bottle of beer.

To her surprise, she nodded, not wanting to call it a night yet. Earlier she'd been so exhausted, she thought as she walked to the wide expanse of windows that looked out on a screened-in porch and, beyond that, the lake.

The moon had scaled the mountains and now hovered over the lake, huge and b.u.t.tery-yellow, the water shimmering like liquid gold.

"Let's go out on the porch," Rourke suggested as he uncapped her beer and handed it to her.

On the screened-in porch, he pushed open the door and she joined him as he sat on the top step and looked out at the lake. Only a slight breeze whispered in the pines above the sh.o.r.eline. The night was still, warm and scented with the last days of summer.

"Pretty, isn't it," he said, beside her, and took a sip of his beer.

"Breathtaking."

"See that spot right over there," he asked, pointing to an outcrop of rocks at the edge of the water. "I was fishing there once when I was about six and I hooked into a huge ba.s.s. I'm telling you, it was the biggest fish I've ever seen in my life. Cash and J.T. were cheering me on, although it was clear they thought I couldn't possibly land it." He was lost in memory for a few moments.

"Did you?"

"Hmm? Oh, I landed it all right. J.T. thought it was a state record. He'd run to get something to weigh it. Cash was yelling at Dad that we were going to have ba.s.s for dinner."

She was watching him, recognized his wry expression and knew. "You let it go."

His smile broadened as he looked over at her. "Yeah. I never heard the end of it." Their eyes met, making her heart compress. Ca.s.sidy could feel the heat, almost see the sparks flying back and forth between them.

Rourke glanced away and took a drink of his beer.

Since the day he'd come back, he had talked to her about nothing but Forrest's murder. Tonight he wasn't that embittered man who'd come out of prison seeking vengeance. Nor was he the wild boy. He was someone in between, someone who made her feel warm and safe and alive sitting next to him. She wished this night would never end.

They finished their beers in a companionable silence, but she was never more aware of a man as she was Rourke. As he shifted to point out one thing or another, their thighs would brush and heat would spread through her. Her flesh felt on fire. She hugged herself, suddenly wondering if she'd made a mistake coming out here with him.

She wanted him to kiss her. No, not just kiss her. She wanted him to make love to her. To h.e.l.l with tomorrow. She would have given anything to lie in Rourke's arms tonight.

Her heart pounded a little harder at just the thought of waking up tomorrow in his arms. Uh-huh. And having him tell you that last night was a mistake? And it would be a mistake. She knew that. Not that it made it any easier to push the fantasy away and rise to her feet. "I should get some sleep."

He rose with her. "Ca.s.sidy, I'm sorry I got you involved in this."

She shook her head. "I was already involved and I volunteered to help you."

"With a little arm-twisting," he said.

"I can take a lot of arm-twisting if I don't want to do something," she said and turned to go inside but he caught her hand-and just as quickly let go of it.

"Thanks," he said, and nodded as if that was all he wanted to say. Or do. But his gaze went to her lips. Her pulse quickened and she knew all she had to do was lean a little toward him, her face lifted to his and he would kiss her.

"Ca.s.sIDY." He hadn't even realized he'd said her name. Nor that he'd moved to her. He looked into her face and wondered how he could not have noticed her eleven years ago. She was so appealing, from her understated beauty and warm brown eyes to her golden mane of hair that tumbled around her shoulders and the soft cadence of her voice.

But it was the tenderness he saw in her eyes, the shyness that tugged at his cynical heart and made him feel weak in the knees around her.

There was something about her that made it easy to talk to her, easy to be around her. There was an intelligence and a determination that exemplified why she had done so well with the Longhorn Cafe. Not to mention, a kindness, a goodness that seemed to radiate from her face.

He admired the h.e.l.l out of her.

But what he was feeling now went beyond admiration.

She was frowning at him, her head c.o.c.ked a little to one side, her eyes bright as sunlight.

Kissing her right then was as natural as breathing. And yet he hesitated. He didn't want to mess this up, and he feared kissing her might ruin something good. He liked her, felt they were becoming friends. He didn't want to lose that.

But he only hesitated a moment. His desire to kiss her overpowered everything. Throwing caution to the wind, he leaned toward her.

She didn't pull back. Her eyes widened, her lips parted. He dropped his mouth to hers. A soft, gentle brush of a kiss.

She seemed to hold her breath, eyes wide. Then she giggled. "Sorry," she said.

He shook his head, pulling back to smile at her.

"I'm a little-" she hiccuped "-nervous."

His smile broadened. She had the hiccups? "Can I get you a gla.s.s of water?"

She nodded and hiccuped again, her face reddening. "Oh, I am so embarra.s.sed," he heard her say under her breath, which only made him smile more as he went into the kitchen and got her a gla.s.s of water.

"Here," he said, when he came back out.

She took the water and gulped it down, holding her head back. "I get the hiccups when I'm...nervous."

"I'm sorry I make you nervous."

She swallowed the rest of the water, then they both waited to see if the water did the trick.

She laughed in relief and he laughed with her, but as their laughter died, the atmosphere between them seemed to change as if the molecules themselves had become charged with electricity.

"I should..." She made a motion toward her bedroom.

He looked at her and smiled. He wasn't going to mess this up. No way. "Good night."

She nodded, seeming disappointed. Not half as much as he was. But the more he was around Ca.s.sidy, the more he liked her. The more he was determined not to hurt her.

As the door closed, he stood on the steps and silently cursed himself. So much for his pledge not to get too close to her. He couldn't believe he'd kissed her. If she hadn't gotten the hiccups...

He smiled to himself remembering. He liked Ca.s.sidy. She seemed to bring out something good and strong in him, something he liked.

He let out a long breath and stared up at the moon. It felt as if he'd never seen it before, as if his life really was beginning all over again. How about that?

He went onto the porch and sprawled on the cot, the moonlight filtering in through the screens. For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace.

Chapter Thirteen.