Angel's Dance (2 page)

Clear awoke early in the predawn dusk.
Her legs were numb and her back was killing her. She felt
disoriented. She knew that she was not in her bed, but was not
certain where she was. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she
realized she was in the library. The cobwebs slowly dissipated
reminding her of the events from the night before. Putting her hand
tentatively in her lap, she felt Grant’s curly hair. She ran her
fingers gently through it, reviewing what he had told her the night
before. Absentmindedly she continued to stroke his hair.

His daughter had been missing four
days as of today. She had left for school that morning and had
never made it to school. Her mother had not even realized she was
missing until later in the evening. The police had already checked
into the case, but there were no leads. No one had seen or heard
anything. Her friends said she hadn’t been complaining about home
and nothing was missing from her room, so it didn’t seem that she
had run away. There were no leads and Grant was desperate for her
help. As a cop, he knew that the longer someone is missing the less
likely it is that they will be found alive. He was distraught
beyond reason, begging her to go with him to Chicago and help him
find his daughter.

Chicago, far larger than any city she
had yet experienced. Could she handle it? Clear was terrified by
the idea. Her past experiences in large towns had been overwhelming
to the point of debilitation, and those cities were nothing like
Chicago. Not committing to anything last night, she had merely
listened to his pain as he sobbed out the story in jumbles and
pieces. She had held him through an emotional breakdown, but knew
that he would be more collected when he awoke and would want
answers this morning.

She could tell him that she had
accomplished blocking it all out, but deep down she was ashamed of
the cowardly thought. It was true that she had learned to block it
out. As of last night she had not had a vision in months. But when
Grant had broken down she had gotten most of the information from
what he wanted to say more than what he actually did say. She could
literally feel his heart breaking. The guilt over not being there
for his daughter, the anger and rage at who would dare to touch his
daughter; Clear even now knew what the girl looked like, all from
him.

But she was terrified of the pain she
might feel in Chicago. More importantly, she was afraid that she
would not be able to help, being overwhelmed by all the chaos
around her. What if she could not help? The idea of spending such
close and intimate time with him was both thrilling and agonizing.
She could not let him hurt her again. Her duties at the ranch
barely registered in her brain. She was not considering that at
all.

He shifted beneath her and a breath of
hot air escaped his lips and seared her skin through the dress. How
could he not know or care how deeply he hurt her and then come here
begging for her help. How could she travel with him to Chicago and
be around him for days on end without any hint of love? Her heart
was breaking as much, if not more than his, as she sat there
holding him. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and she
quickly swiped them away.

When she stopped caressing his curls,
he stirred gently. It was time for him to get off her anyway, so
she gently shook him to wake him. He didn’t budge. Sighing in
exasperation, she carefully pulled his arms from their vice-like
grip around her waist. No wonder her back was killing
her!

She squiggled out from under him and
stretched like a cat. Every muscle screamed in protest from the
actions. Groaning, she padded quietly to the kitchen. Her brain was
too foggy to think, so she decided to make some coffee. She
breathed deeply, inhaling the intoxicating scent as it brewed, and
tried to calm her fluttering heart. As soon as it was done, she
poured a mega mug and moved into the den curling up on the couch
and cradling the hot mug in her hands. It was too hot to drink, but
she felt solace from the heat. Rain pitter-pattering gently on the
window reached her ears, and absentmindedly she wondered how much
more they would get. It had been an unusually wet winter, and
spring seemed to be promising the same. She let her thoughts run
over her randomly and merely followed the flow of consciousness
loosely.

Chapter Two

Grant awoke face-down on the floor
with a sour taste in his mouth. The pungent smell of coffee filled
his nostrils. He was disoriented and in pain. Knowing he was far
too old to pass out on the floor, he mentally kicked himself as he
struggled to his knees. He knelt for a moment getting his bearings.
He was definitely not at home. Hazy images of Clear holding him as
he sobbed swam in his mind and he grimaced. How could he fall apart
like that in front of her? His shame burned his face.

He crawled over to a chair in the room
and pulled himself slowly and painfully to his feet. Running his
hands through his hair, he tried in vain to straighten it up a
little bit. He was not sure where Clear had gone. Opening the door
quietly, he moved down the hall toward the kitchen. A counter light
was on. Looking around the kitchen, a feeling of dread crept over
him. The last time he had gone searching for her in this house, he
had found her bathed in blood. Shaking the chills away, he looked
past the gloom into the den. She was curled up on a corner of the
couch clutching a huge cup. Steam simmered above the rim. She
looked at peace with her eyes closed. He wondered if she had fallen
asleep. Grant moved quietly forward to remove the cup when he
realized that tears leaked from her eyes. He stood quietly watching
her. She was so beautiful that it hurt to watch her cry. He
wondered what private torments fluttered beneath the placid face to
cause such large tears.

He eased down onto the seat next to
her. Her eyes flashed open and those large sad eyes stared at him,
unaware of the tears trembling on her cheeks. He reached out gently
and made to swipe them away, but she pulled back and swiped at them
herself.

“
I’m sorry,” she gasped.
Her voice was raspy and full.

“
No, I’m the one who
should apologize,” he murmured. “Especially if you are crying
because of me.”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “No,
I often sit in the dark crying for no reason.” She bit her lip and
sighed. “That was rude.”

“
I can understand why you
might not want to help me.”

“
Do you?” she queried,
looking deeply into his eyes for a moment. She broke contact just
as he began to feel squirmy. She stared into the kitchen. “You’re
right, I don’t want to help you.” Her voice was dead
pan.

His heart dropped like a stone. He
deserved as much, but he thought she would. To hear her say no hurt
more than he could imagine. What would happen to his sweet little
girl?

“
I’ve thought of so many
reasons why I shouldn’t, of so many ways to tell you no… of all the
progress Anne and I have made…. You know, I don’t even have visions
anymore. I don’t even have to try and block them. I’ve never slept
so well. I could have refused on that alone.”

“
You don’t have to justify
your answer,” he bit back the sarcasm.

“
That is the problem, I
can’t. None of it warrants leaving your daughter to whatever fate…
I just need you to know now that I don’t know how much I can help.
I know that I have seen her in visions tonight. I’m pretty sure
that they are what I’m seeing through you, but if I can see that
then I may be able to see more. I’m just not sure.”

“
Wait, are you saying you
will help?”

She nodded solemnly. “I’ll
try.”

He leaped up grabbing her in a giant
bear hug. She stiffened under his touch and he mentally cringed.
Pulling back, embarrassed, he took her hand. Even this seemed too
personal.

“
I can’t begin to tell you
how much I appreciate it… When can we leave?” He cautiously looked
into her eyes. The eyes that he had seen full of fear, tears, mirth
and life were not the eyes that looked back at him. These eyes were
still the same sunflower eyes ringed in blue, but they were
guarded, the set around them harder than he remembered. He supposed
he deserved it after how everything had ended.

“
Well, we should be going
as soon as possible. Let me just pack some stuff and get a quick
shower in, then I suppose we should head out.” She pulled her hand
free and headed upstairs. For the first time Grant reflected on how
this might not be such a good idea. It was so damned hard for him
to walk away from her last time. Now they were going to be spending
a lot of time together. He would have to be a saint to not get hung
up on her again, but for both their sakes he would have to try.
Unfortunately Grant knew he was no saint.

Clear pulled out her travel bag and
jammed clothes in it angrily. Already she could feel the pull to
him, but damn her if she would let him break her heart again. Fool
me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me! She was so
frustrated that she barely paid any attention as she packed. She
steeled her resolve as she showered, determined that she would not
let her personal feelings get all muddled up. She despised Grant
for his cowardly behavior and she was damned sure not going to be
made a fool again! Getting out of the shower, she threw on sleeper
pants and a baby tee, then grabbed a hoodie in case it was cold.
She thought about throwing some make up on, but what was the point?
She glowered at herself in the mirror. Grant was not going to
tangle her heart up again, she would not allow it!

Taking the stairs two at a time, she
pulled up in surprise at Grant waiting for her by the
door.

“
Are you ready?” he
asked.

“
Yes.” She took a deep
breath, “No, I need to let my foreman know I’m going.” Stomping out
the door, she tried to make herself angry with him, to keep from
caving under those perfect blue eyes. Tossing him her bag, she
muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

She took off at a jog toward the barn.
It was barely six in the morning, but she knew that Mr. Smith would
be in the barn tending the horses. He was a morning person. As she
flew into the barn a few of the horses nickered. They could
probably sense her mood and it made them uncomfortable.

“
Mr. Smith,” she called
out. She wasn’t surprised when his head came up from behind the far
stall. She was surprised when Mr. Yarbrough stood up next to him.
‘
Damn
!’ She had
completely forgotten about the English buyer. “Uh, Mr. Yarbrough,
good morning. I’m sorry about last night… I uh.. Well, I have a
friend who is having a personal emergency and he really needs my…”
what was she going to say? Psychic abilities? “.. personal support
right now. I’m afraid I will have to be leaving for Chicago.” She
took a deep breath hoping he wouldn’t pry, not that she’d really
given him enough with which to pry.

“
I hope it’s nothing too
serious. When will you be leaving?” Mr. Yarbrough asked politely.
It was still prying.

“
Actually it is quite
serious and I’m leaving today… right now, in fact. I was just
coming to ask Mr. Smith if he would take over the ranch for me
while I am gone, and all the business that pertains to it.” She
looked pointedly at Mr. Yarbrough, clearly including him in that
business.

Mr. Smith didn’t bat an eyelash. “As
always, Miss. I believe Mr. Yarbrough was interested in Starlight
and wants to sign up for one of your horses that will be trained
next Spring.” He smiled at Clear, obviously proud of his own
maneuvering.

Clear smiled back. That was the way to
show this stuff-shirt. “Sounds good. I really must be going.” As
Mr. Yarbrough looked her up and down she half wished she had put on
some make up, but brushed the thought off as she dashed out the
door.