Authors: Kat Wells
Luisa twisted the reins in her long fingers, and then slapped the end on her thigh. Her gaze slid over him, across his truck and trailer, assessing everything it covered. She wanted in the worst way to throw him out on his ass; he could see it in her eyes. She didn’t have a choice any more than he did.
“All right,” she said. “You have anything valuable in there?”
“No.”
“Then you can put your stuff in that three-sided shed over there. It should give you a place to ... work. The bunkhouse is the one on the far side. Do me a favor and don’t move that rig until I get Knight back in the barn.” She moved away but stopped and turned back. “I work with my animals from five to eight in the evening. You can work on your ... art ... any time except then.”
She led her horse away leaving Drake wondering how best to avoid the queen bee of the ranch--a woman living fifty feet from him--for the next several weeks.
CHAPTER FOUR
The twang of an aluminum pan on the counter brought Rooster at a run. He skidded around the table peddling uselessly on the linoleum and slid into Luisa’s legs. He sat at her feet, placed one paw on her calf, and yipped hopefully.
“Not now, I’m having my soup first tonight. You’ll have to wait.”
She glanced at the dog, saw the pleading in his eyes, and heard his tiny whimper. “Oh, all right. How is it you always get around me?” she asked with a smile. She poured a small amount of the rich, homemade soup into his bowl, added some water to cool it, and then watched as he joyfully lapped up his treat. Why can’t life be that simple? she wondered.
Luisa slipped a grilled cheese sandwich from griddle to plate and carried her meal to the table. The clanging noises made by the stranger as he threw pieces of metal onto a stack in the shed had disturbed her peace and quiet--and her routine. Knowing he was unloading and settling in a few yards from her home unnerved her. She had so counted on peace and quiet for a few months to work and think about everything Cindy had told her. Luisa knew she needed to let the past go once and for all, but was she ready?
Nibbling on the edge of her sandwich, Luisa thought of the man she’d barely spoken to. Dark hair fringed a face that she doubted had seen a smile in an eon. His steel-blue eyes reflected soul-deep pain. Compassion clutched her heart, and squeezed.
Why had he gone to so much trouble to be this isolated? Luisa ran her fingertips over the ridged scar on her cheek. Maybe he was hiding as she once had. Maybe Cindy was right. She was still hiding to a certain degree. She’d have to leave her hair loose when he was around, and she hated it getting in her way. However, she hated more the pitying looks she always got when people first saw her face. Still, he didn’t seem like the kind of man to pity people. She scoffed at the impression.
“Since when are you the expert people reader?” she asked herself. “You haven’t seen three people in the last year.”
At least not up close and personal
.
What else could go wrong today? She took a bite out of her sandwich.
Damn
. How’d he find out about her ranch anyway? Luisa pushed her half-eaten food aside with a disgusted sigh. The shrill ring of the phone made her jump.
“
That’s
what else could go wrong. Another darn phone call,” she grumbled, and snatched up the phone. “Hello.”
“Luisa?”
“Hi, Mother.” She’d postponed calling her mother and now it was too late.
“How are you, dear?”
“Peachy.” Luisa rubbed at the throbbing in her temples.
“I must see you soon,” her mother said. “I’m coming out next week.” The woman’s voice broke, and Luisa thought she heard a sob.
Silence fell between them and mushroomed as Luisa fought the conflicting emotions racing through her. Her mother apparently needed her, but the woman had deserted them. Why did she care that her mother’s voice reflected such pain?
“Luisa?”
May as well get it over with, Luisa thought. “Yes, all right. I’ll see you then.”
She carefully put the receiver into the wall cradle, and then leaned her forehead against the cool, yellow tiles beside it.
What had happened to her beautiful day? Why did her mother suddenly want to come to the place she had always hated? Luisa sucked air deep into her lungs and squared her shoulders, pushing away unwelcome memories. She was an adult now, this was one more challenge for her to put behind her, nothing more. She’d get through this and perhaps feel better for finally telling her mother what she thought of her desertion.
“Come on, Rooster. Time for you to take a short run before bed.”
The dog bolted out the screen door and disappeared into the darkness encircling the house. Luisa followed him out and stood on the porch.
Lights shone from the bunkhouse, rays spilling from the windows into the yard. They cast her temporary neighbor in silhouette where he stood in the dark. He appeared frozen in time as he peered into the dark. Luisa couldn’t tell what he was staring at in the dim light, but she doubted he could see much anyway.
What was he looking for? Something had him on the run, she was sure of it. She’d seen the look reflected on her own features time and again over the last few years. What secrets did he carry?
God knows, she thought, but it’s not for me to figure out. His problems were none of her business.
Luisa whistled and waited. In a couple of minutes, Rooster burst out of the underbrush and raced up the porch steps and through the door she held open. Luisa glanced toward Drake one last time, then subdued her questions and went into the house, letting the screen slap closed in her wake. Luisa wanted nothing more than her privacy. She could certainly give Drake Forrester his.
#
The minute she stepped onto her porch to let her dog out, Drake knew it. Her presence vibrated with a life of its own. In the dim light, he could see the wind lift her hair and fan it around her face before she pushed it aside.
As the dog charged off, the woman stared in Drake’s direction, probably wondering what bad fortune brought a guy like him to her doorstep. The last thing he needed was to get mixed up with a woman, but this one sure was easy to look at. Being hot and tired when he finally drove in today didn’t stop him from appreciating a good-looking woman.
He remembered the hint of red in her dark brown hair, the hazel eyes that had sparked when she’d told him he’d frightened her horse. And the way she walked, hips swaying. Well,
that
defied description.
He scoffed at the image of him scaring the beast she called Royal Knight. The massive animal towered above them both. Drake had to admit his trailer must have made a terrific racket bouncing over the never-ending dirt drive with all that loose metal inside. He conceded it had been loud enough to frighten a fire-breathing dragon, especially if that dragon was a horse.
The contrasting quiet of this place unsettled him. The scurry of unseen animals through brush and the call of owls were a long way from honking horns and blaring sirens.
The dark here--impenetrable depths came to mind--was beyond comprehension. No moon graced the sky tonight and the stars cluttering the vast expanse offered little light. He looked skyward again. Those stars ... My God he had never seen so many. And the Milky Way stood out as bold as a Los Angeles freeway cutting through the suburbs.
The lone ranch light beside the barn shone like a beacon providing some break to the darkness. Insects swarmed to it, and what he assumed were bats dove after them. In the pens, engulfed by the circle of illumination, a handful of cattle lay in huge, quiet lumps. Drake hoped they’d stay that way when he started working on his sculptures.
He slid a hand into the pocket of his tan Dockers, lifting and dropping the coins there. The clicking rattle provided the only civilized sound. What he wouldn’t give for Hollywood Boulevard. Flashing neon lights, clusters of people--some strange and some not--talking under streetlights, flirting and doing business. He could practically smell the cheap perfume, gas fumes, and cigarette smoke that mingled with hot dogs roasted by street vendors.
Drake would find a way to get even with Rick for this. He’d pay dearly for exiling him to this godforsaken place. Drake glanced around again. Maybe he deserved a place like this. He knew he had a debt to pay for killing his partner. Perhaps this was it.
He listened to the eerie silence. Rick had understated the quiet. It pulsed like a living thing. The dreams would come here. Unheralded. Unwanted. No noise, no smoke, no booze existed to stop them. He would relive them again ... and again.
#
With the first heavy thud, her eyes popped open. The velvet black of night surrounded her. Her heart jolted violently against her ribs as she tried to orient herself. Rooster jumped from the foot of her bed and careened to the door barking furiously. A second muffled
whack
echoed across the ranch.
“What on earth is that?”
She threw back the covers. The sun had been down for hours leaving only cool, high desert air to filter in through her open window. It should have been quiet enough to hear a snake breathe. It wasn’t. She pulled on a faded flannel robe and raced to the front door as the rhythmic thumping continued. She wondered for a minute if the well pump had gone berserk.
Rooster barked again, and Luisa hushed him. “I don’t need your noise on top of that.” When the dog quieted, she could tell the sounds were coming from the shed.
As she crossed the living room, she flipped on lights, spotted the clock, and groaned. “Three a.m.,” she muttered. Had the new tenant lost his mind?
Luisa stopped on the porch, pulling the robe closed around her throat. The glow of the barn light illuminated the pitch-dark cloaking the yard. The racket continued. Rooster hovered at her feet, vibrating and ready to charge. A low growl rumbled in his throat.
She started down the steps, then balanced on the lowest one for a moment before retreating to the porch. Thinking about Drake, she wrapped her arms protectively across her body.
The metallic crashes echoed across the sandy yard. “What should we do, Rooster? We’re never going to get any sleep. He’s going to have to wait for morning.”
Luisa hurried off the porch and crossed the yard. She hushed Rooster again as they approached the shed. A circle of light spilled out of the open side. Standing in the dark and peering in, she clutched the front of her robe. The sight of him stole her breath. Naked to the waist, sweat glistened on the rippling muscles of Drake’s back. Biceps bulged as he lifted the mallet and brought it down on a chunk of metal with a tremendous
whack
. A towel was wrapped around the hammer and taped in place.
Light gray gloves protected his hands. She wondered what the palms of his hands felt like. Were they smooth or rough in spite of their protection? Deep in her body, heat unfurled and spread like sun-warmed aloe vera. She imagined those hands on her body. Could they be strong and gentle instead of destructive? She wanted him to touch her, wanted to touch him in kind. Heat slipped from her throat up and across her cheeks as her thoughts took a lusty turn.
Thankfully, he was oblivious to everything around him, including her presence. He pounded the metal as though his life depended on it, threw it down, and picked up another piece to begin again.
Rage vibrated in the small shed. The sides of the building seemed to bulge from the pressure of it. Now was not the time to discuss when he could or couldn’t beat the daylights out of scrap iron.
What drove a man to create in the middle of the night? If you could call that noise creating?
It wasn’t right to intrude. She hated it if anything or anyone interrupted her writing. Her own past drove her to create flawed characters who overcame all their challenges. This noise sounded like he was beating out a lifetime of fury. Her heart twisted in pain. She’d never been able to stand to see any creature in distress and this stranger was no different.
“Come on, Rooster. We’re going back to bed,” she whispered and stepped back into the shadows. Her leg bumped an empty bucket, and Drake swung toward the sound. Pure hatred was carved into his features. Her heart jumped to her throat and she choked back a gasp.
Drake peered into the dark, listened for any sound, then turned back to his work. As the noise again echoed from the shed, Luisa turned and went back to the house, her heart still hammering in her throat.
Who did he hate that much? What had happened to Drake Forrester to cause lethal venom to pour out of his soul in such a way? She supposed she should be afraid of him, but Luisa suspected his loathing was self-directed. Her sixth sense would tell her if he was a danger to her, and she trusted her inner wisdom now where once she’d doubted it. Doubting her inner wisdom had nearly gotten her killed.
It’s not for me to figure out his problems
. On the porch, she listened for a moment while she waited for her heart rate to return to normal. Unable to make out any noises of unease from the animals in the barn, she returned to her room. Grabbing an extra pillow, she crawled under a light summer blanket and buried her head beneath her pillows.
She closed out the racket easier than her questions. What nightmares shattered his sleep, forcing him to savagely pound pieces of metal through a long night? A flash, a shiver of remembrance answered her question. Luisa remembered well the sleepless nights after her accident. Her experiences as a runaway in Los Angeles. She could still smell the stench of rotten garbage and sweaty bodies from alleyways when she had hidden behind dumpsters. The nightmares that came when she finally returned home after running away when she was ten.