Peppermint Creek Inn (41 page)

“You’re right, Sara. I should remember meeting someone like that.”

She spun on him and caught the mischievous glint glowing in his green eyes and a disarming smile tugged at his lips.

“Oh! You are a son of a bitch!” She attempted to take a swipe at him, but his hand gripped her wrist. He pulled her closely against his hot chest and pressed his hips against her, allowing her to feel his hot cock.

“Are you jealous?” he teased softly into her ear.

“I will not dignify that question with an answer,” she replied stubbornly.

“You are jealous!” Tom laughed.

“For Pete’s sake, wipe that smile off your face.”

Pushing him away, she whirled around and tramped angrily up the walkway.

Halfway up the stairs, she felt his hand on her arm and flames of desire erupted within her pussy from his touch.

“Sara, sweetness. Admit it, you’re jealous.” Tom’s voice was low and seductive. Slowly, he turned her around. The knowing smirk on his face pissed her off.

“I wouldn’t know jealousy if it came right up and bit me on my nose.”

His finger gently touched the tip of her nose and he teased lightly. “There’s a big chunk out of it right here.”

“Bastard,” she whispered and found herself smiling at his teasing glint. “You’re right, I am jealous.”

“I know.”

“It was silly of me to act that way toward her.”

“Yes, it was.”

Sara frowned. “Do you have to agree with me all the time?”

He answered by bringing his deliciously crushing mouth over hers.

Sara accepted his greedy, sweet tongue as it played against her teeth and opened to him. Fantastic jolts of electricity made her knees go weak. When he raised his head from the kiss, she felt totally breathless.

A moment later, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

“What about the dishes?” she whispered huskily.

“Forget the dishes,” he murmured in a thick voice and stomped up the stairs.

—

After they made love, they lay in each other’s arms, the blonde woman still on her mind. And so was a whole bunch of other things. Things she needed to get off her chest.

“Tom?” she whispered. “You awake?”

“Mmm?” he replied sleepily.

“When we went to town the other day, I went to visit a friend of mine.” It took a good few seconds for her confession to register, and when it did he tensed beside her.

“You didn’t say anything about me, did you?”

“No, I didn’t tell her about you.”

He relaxed and to her surprise, he chuckled. “I guess I’m not so important to brag about to your friends.”

“My friends ever see you, they’ll snatch you away from me.”

He popped one eye open and stated firmly, “Never. I’m yours forever.”

She sighed her contentment and snuggled closer to his wonderful naked body.

“My friend. She was my psychiatrist.” She let the last word dangle a moment, but Tom didn’t respond, so she continued. “I asked her what she knew about amnesia.”

His other eye popped open and he smiled at her. “You don’t have to worry about me, y’know.”

“I know.”

“So what did she say?”

“Well, she said amnesia can be caused by different things. A blow to the head or a traumatic experience. She said memory could come back in pieces or right away. Or it could be triggered by something.”

Tom moved, turned to face her. The muscles in his biceps bulged wonderfully as he propped his elbow under his head. “Just as I began remembering things when I saw Jackfish. I found the keys and the motorcycle, and remembered what happened in the basement of the cabin. And I know whatever those cops are searching for is somewhere in Jackfish. Just like I know the reason I didn’t stay here at Peppermint Creek Inn that first time was because I was afraid I’d bring trouble to you if I got caught here.”

“On that map you found in your motorcycle bag, Jackfish was circled. You can’t remember who told you about the ghost town?”

Tom shook his head. “I remember cruising around looking for it. But I don’t know how I knew Jackfish even existed.”

“What if they already found what they were looking for in the cabin? I mean they ripped the house apart pretty good.”

Tom shook his head. “It wasn’t in the house. It’s a strong feeling I have. It’s in a safe place.” His voice lowered to an endearing whisper. “I just wish you went with your sister and Garry so you’d be in a safe place, too.”

“I am in a safe place when I’m in your arms,” Sara whispered. “And before I lose my train of thought there’s one other thing I need to warn you about.”

“What’s that?” he said huskily as he reached out to wrap his arms around her, pulling her against him.

“There’s a chance you might not remember me when you regain your memory.”

“I’ll never forget you.”

“But Smokey said—”

He placed a gentle finger on her mouth. “Shh. I’ve already regained some of my memories and I haven’t forgotten you, right?”

Sara nodded, suddenly feeling as if a million tons had just been lifted off her shoulders.

Yes he was remembering his past, and yet he still remembered her. She wasn’t going to lose him. At least not that way.

“Don’t worry, sweetness, okay?”

“As long as I’m in your arms, I won’t worry.”

Tom nuzzled against her ear, catching her ear lobe gently in his mouth. Sara gasped in pleasure.

“You like?”

“Very much. I didn’t know you were an ear man.”

He didn’t answer as he trailed fiery kisses down the full length of her neck making Sara shiver with delight.

“And a neck man.” Sara giggled.

He showered her naked shoulder with light kisses.

“And a shoulder man, too,” he said huskily, and Sara watched his magnificent eyes darken with desire.

Her breath quickened as his luscious mouth lowered hotly over her left breast. A low moan escaped from deep inside her throat and he smiled. A few moments later, for the second time in two nights, Sara threw caution to the wind as Tom’s mouth worked over her stomach, abdomen and beyond, working miracles on her body. Miracles she never knew existed.

A stiff, cool autumn breeze blew against Matthew McCullen’s face as he sat high in the bright red combine seat, staring in awe at the smooth creamy gold field of ripe grain awaiting him.

The healthy crop extended for acres, fence to fence, as far and wide as his eyes could see. Deep into Montana’s foothills. He watched excitedly as the robust wheat, their heads fat and full of hard kernels nodded and waved to him in the wind.

He jumped as Dad shouted at him to get a move on from the edge of the field. Hesitantly he started the engine of the combine and slowly moved forward into the lush, picturesque fields. It was almost a shame to cut all this beauty down. But it was harvest time.

He smiled as the wheat fell before him under the header of the combine and he listened to the satisfying whisper as it rushed out of the auger into the truck box behind. They didn’t have to tell him twice this was the bumper crop. It was written all over his parents’ faces. This was the harvest of their dreams.

Mom and Dad had been pretty tense all summer waiting for the crop, trying not to get their hopes up. Aside from a couple of close calls, the weather had cooperated. Now he was cutting down his last crop, the crop that would put money on the table, allowing him to head into the big city early next year.

He’d been accepted into the police academy. His parents were both proud of him and sad to see their eldest son go. But he wanted some adventure in his life. He wanted to see the big city. He wanted to help people. What other way to have it all, than by being a cop?

The police academy in Billings was waiting for him. Leaving didn’t produce too much guilt. His two younger brothers were still around to help out. Matt gave a happy howl and drove headlong into the swaying fields of gold.

—

Tears of pain washed out from beneath Sara’s lashes as hours later she lay awake in the early gray predawn listening to Tom’s uneven breathing. Only two short weeks ago, a bedraggled stranger had entered her dull life. A man covered in black leather and scruffy hair. Little did she know the beautiful feelings of life he would stir inside her.

He’d taught her how to feel alive. He’d given her back her happiness, her joy of painting and most importantly shown her how to love again.

She didn’t want to lose him. Couldn’t even bear to think it. Maybe she could still persuade him to run. She could wake him up. They could leave right now. Disappear. People disappeared every day without a trace.

She sighed wearily. Deep down she knew no matter how hard she begged him to leave, he wouldn’t. He’d made up his mind earlier on the cliff when she’d first suggested leaving. He wanted real freedom. Even if he had to take such a horrible risk in achieving it. Oh, God, why did she have to fall in love with such a stubborn man.

A sob caught in her throat.

She almost didn’t hear the strange sound.

A creaking noise that drifted through the slightly open window, mingling with the singing crickets and the croaking frogs. Sara’s eyes fluttered open just in time to see the quick blink of lightning flashing in the windows. A momentary shot of panic burst through her body. But almost instantly, she smiled contentedly and snuggled closer to Tom’s warm frame.

She wouldn’t be frightened, she told herself. Storms couldn’t hurt her, only people hurt people.

Another creaking sound spilled into the bedroom. Instantly Sara sat up in bed, fully alert.

Tom rolled onto his back, mumbled something but remained asleep. Sara listened for what seemed a long time but heard no other sound. Could it have been the porch swing out on the veranda? It always made creepy noises when the wind blew. She found herself staring at the curtains, willing them to move. They didn’t so much as flutter.

Maybe it had been a raccoon or even a porcupine scuttling across the veranda. She wished she could believe it wasn’t something bad lurking around out there, but what if it was?

Another flash of lightning lit up the sky. A little closer this time.

Without warning, a shadow flew by the window. So quick, she hoped she’d imagined it. Paralyzed by the sudden fear clutching her throat, Sara froze, and listened.

Above the crashing beat of her heart, she heard the unmistakable moaning protest of dry hinges, as the front screen door was slowly pulled open.

A shiver of familiar fear uncurled inside her body.

Could it be the cops? Her frightened gaze flew to Tom who shifted uneasily in the bed.

Another thought jumped into her head. Garry had said Jo might return early this morning. Sara’s eyes flew to the alarm clock sitting on the night table. Exactly six a.m.

It had to be Jo. Perhaps she had good news.

Slowly, so as not to awaken Tom, she eased out of bed, slipped into her track pants and top. Hesitantly she picked up Jo’s handgun off the night table, where Tom had placed it.

Just a precaution
, she told herself.

Casting another quick glance at Tom, she opted to let him sleep. If Jo had bad news regarding his case, they could wait to tell him.

On her way out of her bedroom, Sara checked to make sure the back door was locked.

It was.

The hallway was semi-dark as she started down the corridor and a feeling of unease swept through her as she passed the slightly open door leading to the upstairs bedrooms.

Her hand tightened around the gun as she remembered seeing a shadow move past her window and the distinct sound of creaking hinges as the screen door had opened.

Maybe she should go back and wake up Tom. If it had been Jo she would have come inside by now.

Just as she turned around, she saw the dark shadow step out of the hallway leading to the upstairs bedrooms, directly into her path. For the briefest instant she prayed it was Jo. But the shock of white hair instantly dashed her hopes.

Sara’s scalp prickled with fear and her heart jumped wildly. A warning scream died in her throat as she spied the gleaming gun in the man’s hand. And it was pointed directly at her head.

Oh, God!

Her heart sank and she went completely rigid. She could kick herself for not leaving the gun with Tom. She’d left him unarmed and may very well have signed his death warrant.

Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to show her anger not her fear. “What do you want?”

The briefest hint of a smile tugged at his lips and the suddenly familiar-looking man cocked his head sideways.

“Where is he?” he spoke in a low crisp voice. A strong confident voice commanding attention and she found it extremely hard to ignore his question.

“I suggest you leave my property before I call the police.”

“Now there’s really no need for that, little lady,” the man drawled. “I’m already here.”

Sara jumped to attention as the man’s free hand slowly slipped into his open jacket and he produced an official-looking police badge. Her heart crashed against the prison of her chest as she tried to read the badge in the growing dimness of dawn.

Chief Jeffries of the NYPD.

Before Sara could think of a reply, she heard the distinct sound of a footstep behind her coming from the area of the front door.

Her hopes soared. Had Tom heard they had company and woken up? Had he gone out the window and was now sneaking in through the front door to see who she was talking to?

Had the white-haired man also heard the footstep?

Sara didn’t think so.

“Why don’t you put your gun down, mister, and I’ll do the same.”

The unmistakable click of a safety catch being released made an icy sensation crawl up Sara’s spine. She felt her entire body begin to shake when she smelled the sickeningly sweet perfume of the woman who’d come earlier in her car.

Suddenly she knew why the man looked familiar. He had roughly the same facial features as the woman who’d stopped by last night looking for directions.

Her sister had always told her to pay attention to her gut instincts. Last night when she’d seen this woman, her instincts had screamed bloody murder. Tom had been shaken also.