Come to Me (4 page)

It was a
mercifully quiet taxi ride to her hotel, where she sat and stared out at the
city, sleep deserting her.

Excitement and
anticipation buoyed her mood, along with a sickening sense of dread, and the
first day of the conference flew by. She’d see Jack again tonight, she
knew
it. Summer wanted to cling to these last nights with him. She ate a light
dinner, took a long, relaxing soak in the bath and went to bed early. She fell
asleep instantly.

He didn’t come.

Three nights
without him, and she was practically climbing the walls.

Day two of the
conference was followed by another Jack-less night, and by that point, Summer
missed him with a physical ache. Cutting the final day short, she bought a
local travel guidebook, hired a car and set off in the direction of San
Antonio.

Mile after mile
of dusty road later, her back and head ached, and still there was no sign of
any place like she’d seen in her dreams. Silver Creek was maybe thirty miles
further on.

According to her
map, the town of Nomad was the nearest habitation to the ranch, and it was
there she decided to stop for the night. She wanted to be fresh and alert when
she showed up at the ranch.

The roadside
motel was clean and quiet, and Summer had no difficulty getting a room. She lay
on the bed and stared at the ceiling, too exhausted to summon any enthusiasm.
Jetlag was biting with a vengeance. Worse though was the fear that she’d lost
Jack.

One last idea
shimmered before her.

She closed the
curtains and lit a small candle from her luggage, then laid a red velvet cloth
on the small table. She’d only used the planchette once before. She wasn’t even
sure why she’d brought it, but now she was here…anything was better than this
endless waiting. She set up the board—a large thin piece of maple engraved with
the letters of the alphabet and the numbers zero through to nine.

Eyes closed,
Summer relaxed and rested both hands lightly over the pointing device, with
just the tips of her fingers in contact with the smooth wood.

“Jack.” She
spoke aloud, her voice soft in the quiet room. “Jack, come to me.”

She could hear
voices in the distance, the low rumble of a car engine and the dull hum of the
air conditioning, but no Jack. “Jack,” she repeated, “are you there? Come to
me, Jack.”

She waited,
alert to the slightest change in the room, every nerve tingling. The
temperature should drop first.

It stayed
resolutely hot.

She called again
for him, her voice cracking on his name.

Nothing
.

Chapter 15 – Am I Dead?

Somewhere, a phone was ringing. Summer
blocked it out. She wanted to go back to her dream. She imagined warm fingers that
trailed along her bare arm, walking down to her wrist and then stroking the
back of her hand. She smiled in her sleep. Dreaming of Jack was far better than
spending her waking hours alone.

The trilling noise continued, and she
squeezed her eyelids tighter.
Not yet
. She didn't want to wake up yet.
It was no use; the dream had vanished. Summer took a slow, deep breath and
prepared to open her eyes, just as a soft knock sounded on her door.

She snapped awake. What now? She sighed,
grabbed her robe and slid her arms into the sleeves, pulling the cord tight
around her waist as she stumbled across the room. Her eyes were gritty. And who
had been ringing her? She’d check in a minute.

“Okay,” she muttered, when her visitor
knocked again. “I’m here.”

She cracked the door open.
What the hell?

Jack stood in the corridor.

He stared back at her, his brows knitted
together in a puzzled frown, his mouth falling open.

“Jack?”

“Sum-mah?” They spoke at once.

“It’s really you, Shu-gah.”
The words washed over her, the drawling
Texan accent thick and sweet, and shockingly familiar.

Her heart stuttered. “You? But…”

Brilliant white teeth flashed back at her
from a dark, tanned face, and inky black hair fell forwards, giving him a
boyish look. She stared in disbelief. “You cannot be real. You cannot.
Be
.
Here.”

Jack met her gaze. “Hot damn. You called me,
darlin’. An' I came.”

Summer’s eyes darted left and right.
Still
in the motel room.
Her mobile phone jangled once more then tripped
over to voicemail. Jack stood in the doorway, tall, vital and strong.
Real
.
Brilliant morning sunlight splashed through a gap in the curtains… She’d never
seen him in daylight before.

This didn’t feel like a dream
.

“Am I dead?” She blurted out the words and
saw surprise and amusement flashing over his face.

“No more than me, darlin’.” One large hand
reached out, and he ran his knuckles down her cheek. She shivered with
remembered pleasure, her chest tight.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, her
voice trailing away.

“Me neither, Sum-mah. But I had this dream
about you being here, in this little motel. And so I came. And here you are.”
He lifted his hand to touch her hair, as though he didn’t believe it either. “I
thought I’d imagined you, Sum-mah. I dreamed about you living in England.”

She was lost for words. “I do – live in
England,” she managed. “I came here to find you. How did you know my room?”

He huffed an amused laugh. “I went to school
with Billy, the guy who runs this joint. That'll be him ringing you.”

Right on cue, her phone burst to life again.
She reached out with an unsteady hand and picked it up, her eyes never leaving
Jack's face.

“Hello?”

“Miz Meadows? This is Billy Regan on the
front desk. Ah just wanted you to know you've got a visitor on his way. Jack
McKane. Is that—uh—okay? He said as how you’d be expecting him.”

Summer understood the words, but they still
made no sense. She licked dry lips, dug deep and tried to speak normally.
“Yes, that's fine. Thanks.” Her fingers tightened around the phone. Jack’s gaze
swept over her body in a scorching blast. “Before you go—“ She hesitated, and
tried to assemble her thoughts. “Someone told me Jack McKane had died
recently.”

“Died?” The drawl lengthened on the other
end of the phone, and a soft chuckle emerged. “Must be another Jack McKane.
This one's too stubborn to die, and you can tell him I said so.”

She stuffed the phone in her pocket and gave
Jack her full attention. “I don't understand.” Their eyes locked.

“Me neither, Shu-gah, but I can tell you
this. I've dreamed about you, and now you're here. It's like we're meant for
each other.”

Jack flattened his hand against Summer’s
cheek, and she rubbed into his palm, seeking his caress. There were so many
questions; she didn’t know where to start.

He seemed to pull himself together first. “I
want to…can we talk?”

Summer nodded, took a quick breath and
nodded again, more firmly. “Yes.” Remembering her state of undress, she glanced
down at her robe. “Let me shower and put some clothes on. Can we meet
somewhere?”

“I don’t plan on going anywhere, Shu-gah.
How about I wait for you outside?”

***

Summer stepped outside into blazing
sunshine. She squinted and fumbled for her sunglasses. When her eyes adjusted,
she saw Jack. He leaned against a bright red pickup truck, and a smile broke
across his face when he saw her. They crossed the courtyard at the same time to
stand inches apart.

He swept off his hat, then held out his free
hand. “Will you walk with me, Sum-mah?”

Up until now, Summer had almost convinced
herself that she was still dreaming. His hand though, was real—the palm, warm
and slightly calloused, the fingers tangled with her own. He squeezed her hand
and, just like that, the tightness in her chest eased. He felt right.
This
felt right.

They sat on an old wooden bench in dappled
sunlight, beneath huge unfamiliar trees. Jack kept touching her, as though
reassuring himself she was really there: one finger on her cheek; a brush
against her arm; stretching his foot to rest next to hers; his hand sliding
down her back. She welcomed the contact. It anchored her.

Talking
came slowly at first, but Summer didn’t mind. She couldn’t find an explanation
for how they’d met, but then, conventional science couldn’t explain how she
talked to spirits either.

“I’ve
been dreaming about you for weeks, Shu-gah. Maybe even longer.” Jack’s voice
was gentle. He played with her fingers where they rested on her thigh. “You’ve
been lurking there, just out of sight. I’d catch a glimpse of you, sometimes
hear your voice, but I didn’t get to see you until that night when you asked me
if I was Arthur.” He hesitated. “I dreamed we did a lot more than talkin’,
darlin’.”

Summer
smiled up at him. “Same for me.” She licked her suddenly dry lips, her heart
racing. She really wanted to kiss him, see if he tasted the same as in her
dreams. Her cheeks were burning, and it wasn’t just the sunshine.

Slowly,
as if he had all the time in the world, Jack leaned closer, closing the gap
between them. He was so close, she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her
stomach flipped at the intimacy.
Soft
lips traced a pattern down her face before teasing her mouth. “You’re so
pretty, Shu-gah. Even more lovely than I dreamed.”

She kissed him, tasting him, learning him,
her mind whirling in a torrent of jumbled thoughts. One truth stood out: she’d
found Jack. And now she hoped to love him.

***

Summer sprawled on the grass and leaned
against Jack, her head in his lap, his fingers sifting through her hair. This
time, sunlight fell in shifting patterns around them, and there were two horses
grazing by the stream.

 “I still can't believe how this all
happened. I was convinced you were a spirit.”

 He dropped a playful kiss on the tip
of her nose. “I have no idea, Sum-mah, but I'm sure glad you came to find me.”
He bent over her, blocking out the daylight. His mouth sought hers, his tongue
tracing the seam of her lips. “Don't go home, baby. Stay here with me.”

 There would be a million details to
sort out. Her business. Her dog. Her home… At the end of it all, one brilliant
thought beckoned, gleaming and radiant. This was her cowboy – and this was
where she belonged.