The Gift (17 page)

Tears streamed down her face. He thrust into her, and they were one in every way. She was he and he was she, though perhaps only she was aware of it. It was as if she had splintered into two halves that perfectly fit together again as one.

In fact, she’d never felt so complete, so whole.

All the other implications could be dealt with later.

Slowly, she brought her hands to Ty’s face and wished she could see his eyes as she felt his emotions join with hers, just as their physical sensations melded.

There were definitely only two people in this bed, and—in many ways—they were one.

He pushed deep, sure, and powerfully into her. She felt like heated silk to him, and he like molten steel. What a combination. Mother Nature definitely knew what she was doing.

She met and matched his every thrust, ready to revisit the joy he’d shown her, and now, to share his. Tiny fingers of heat bloomed inside her until one climax
blended into the next. The convulsions merged into one long, exquisitely painful sensation.

Then he buried himself inside her and tensed. The heat built along his length. Pulsing pressure reached an unbearable point. He threw his head back and shouted, as did she.

Beth convulsed around him, taking his completion and her own as one. She shared his orgasm, which made her come yet again. He marked her with his completion, and they rocked together slowly. She held him with her body, her arms, her legs, stroking his back and shoulders as he strained against her, and she actually felt him empty himself.

So that’s what it’s like.
A secret, knowing smile tugged at Beth’s lips.
But only women get multiples.

He peppered her face with tiny kisses and eased his weight off her, then rolled onto his side and gathered her against him. Beth rolled to her hip with her back against him, enjoying the tender kisses he rained across her shoulder.

Her throat filled and tightened, and she realized the combination of his emotions and hers had her struggling against more tears. The need to say the words in her heart drove at her, but she bit her lip to silence them.

Were they hers…or his?

Near dawn, Beth had a vague thought that she should tiptoe back to her own bed, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to leave Ty’s side. Besides, the kids weren’t here to worry about.

She’d never known sex could be anything like this. And she’d sure as hell never known her gift could come in so handy. A smile curved her lips in the dark room. At some point, Ty must’ve turned off the light in the hall—probably while ditching the second condom.

She smiled again. If possible, the second time had been even more amazing than the first. And the man had warned her he wasn’t sure how long he could last. She almost laughed.

He was an incredible lover. Patient, attentive, well-endowed, and long lasting. In fact, he’d worn her out. She was exhausted.

This new, unexpected perk to her empathy was a little quirk she wasn’t prepared to share with her cousin, even though they’d always shared in the past. Sam used to say he envied the drama and magnitude of Beth’s gift, while she wished hers could be as simple and undemanding as his. He often compared himself to a psychic errand boy, as the spirits of those
who’d passed with something left undone or lost would seek him out to finish what they’d left, so they could move on to their eternal rest.

Beth felt something amazing drift over her as she lay spooned against Ty Malone, an emotion she’d never really known before. Contentment. She felt warm and wanted and safe in his bed. In his arms…

Her eyes drifted closed, and sleep overtook her sated body and relaxed mind.

“
I know you’re here.
”

The blonde woman’s face appeared in Beth’s dream, again blurred and semitransparent.

“
I know you can help. Please help me.
”

No, go. Leave me. I can’t help you. Helping you will hurt me, Beth tried to tell her.

“
I need to go. I’m trapped. Please help me.
”

Beth didn’t want to know the woman’s name. Something stopped her from asking. Her subconscious didn’t want to know.

“
You have to help me. They hurt me. They killed me.
”

I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to reach me. Please leave me alone. Wait for my cousin. He’ll help you. I can’t. I can’t.

“
You won’t. You can, but you won’t.
”

Guilt pressed down on Beth’s dreamworld. She tried to push it away, but it shoved back with more force.

I can’t help you. It will kill me.

“
I’m already dead. They murdered me.
”

Don’t ask who “they” are. Don’t ask who she is, or was. Don’t ask, Beth. Don’t ask. Don’t care. Don’t help. Don’t go back to that terrible place.

Nothing matters except staying sober. One day at a time, Dearborn. One day at a time.

“
I was drunk,” the woman said.

Could the spirit read Beth’s thoughts? Did this empathy work both ways? She’d never been sought out in quite this manner before. Of course, in the past she’d usually walked right into the middle of these messes and asked for it.

Now she was running away from it with everything she had. Even in her dreams and nightmares.

I don’t want to know about you, Beth told the dream woman. Please go away. Leave me alone. Wait for my cousin. He’ll help you.

“
I was going to get help, but they came for me too soon.
”

Stop! Please stop.

Beth saw the blurry woman walking—no, staggering—to the kitchen here in this house. She opened the pantry door and took a bottle from inside an empty oatmeal canister, and poured the rum into a blue glass. She drank it straight—no mix, no ice. Then she went to the sink, rinsed her glass, reached into her pocket, and squirted breath spray into her mouth.

“
I needed help,” she continued.

Please, don’t. I want to wake up now.

“
I had already called one of those clinics and made arrangements to check myself in the very next day. I can give you the name of it and you can check.
”

Beth stopped arguing with the woman and tried to block out her words. But she couldn’t. The woman’s spirit had gained strength, probably feeding off Beth’s proximity. Hope was a powerful thing, and she’d obviously sensed Beth’s ability, even in its diminished state.

Was Sam right? Did Beth have a responsibility to help this spirit? And what if she was Lorilee?

“
Don’t you know who I am?
”

Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.

“
I saw them together the day before,” she continued. “Sometimes I stopped at a little bar out on the highway. No one ever recognized me there. Until then.
”

Stop. Leave me be.

“
I will leave here forever if you’ll help me.” The dream spirit actually sighed. “Make those who hurt me pay for what they did.
”

I already felt what happened to you.

“
Yes, I know. Will you help me now?
”

I can’t. My cousin can help you. A little more than two weeks and he’ll be here. You’ve already waited this long. Wait. Please wait.

“
I’m not sure I can now.
”

What do you mean?

“
Because of you.
”

Beth bolted up with a silent scream on her lips. She clutched at her throat, her heart lurched and thundered against her bruised ribs. Sweat trickled down her face, her neck, between her naked breasts.

Just a dream. Another nightmare.

But she knew better. She knew. The spirit in this house would not leave her be. To make matters worse, the woman had been a drunk. That was almost laughable, considering.

Beth glanced over her shoulder at Ty. Though she couldn’t see his face in the dark, she knew from the steady sound of his breathing that he still slept soundly. At least she didn’t have to explain her nightmare to him.

And—oh, God—she needed a drink. Which was precisely why she couldn’t have one. She gnawed her lower lip and clenched her fists, trying not to remember the wine in the fridge Pearl had mentioned, or the liquor cabinet in the parlor downstairs.

No, she wouldn’t go there. Not now—not ever.

Sam would be here in a little over two weeks. She could hold out that long.

And there was Ty. She didn’t want to risk driving him away by getting falling-down drunk. And if she took one sip, she’d drink the entire bottle. Zero control, once she tasted the demon liquor.

So stop thinking about it, Dearborn.

She needed to understand why this one man had been able to share his lovemaking with her on an empathic level, when that had never happened with anyone else. There was some significance to that. She knew it as certainly as she knew her own name.

Very carefully, she slipped back beneath the covers, not wanting to disturb Ty. She wanted—needed—to feel his warmth against her. When his arm went around her waist, she sighed.

A lone tear escaped from the corner of her eye. Even so, she smiled just a little.

“You need a what?” Ty asked, shaking his head to make sure he’d heard Beth correctly.

“A gun.” She smiled at him, the sheet tucked just under her arms, her bare shoulders smooth and flawless against the pale sheets. “The sniper’s bullet destroyed my Glock.”

“A Glock, huh?” He chuckled and nuzzled her shoulder. “Well, I know for a fact we don’t have one of those around here, but there are some hunting rifles and an old shotgun.”

“No handguns?”

He sat up and looked down at her. “I guess you have a license to carry a concealed weapon.” Her answering look made him chuckle again. “There’s an
old forty-five, and some ammunition as well. You’ll need to clean it.”

“I just happen to know how to do that.” She threw back the covers and swung her long legs over the edge of the bed. “I want to shower and dress before Pearl or your children show up and catch me in your room.”

He sat up and caught her hand. “Beth, I…”

She bent down and kissed him full on the mouth. “Don’t ruin it. There will be time for words later.”

He nodded in resignation, unsure of exactly what he’d been about to say anyway. “That’s a nasty bruise. Are you sure nothing’s broken or cracked?”

Her smile lit up her entire face. “Think about it, Ty,” she said and patted his cheek. “Think about it.” Then she gathered her clothes off his bedroom floor and left, giving him a magnificent view of her slender backside.

“Mmm, mmm.” Of course, she wouldn’t have been able to perform the calisthenics in his bed—especially this morning’s—with cracked or broken ribs. He grinned and stretched. “Coffee. Definitely coffee.”

He pulled on a robe and slippers, then headed for the kitchen, figuring he’d give Beth first dibs on the hot water. Sure enough, as he passed her room he heard the shower come on. The urge to join her there struck him like a punch, and he actually stopped, turned, considered it, but realized Pearl would be scandalized if she came in to start breakfast and caught them in the shower together.

“Okay.” He sighed. “Coffee.” So he continued his trek down the stairs to the kitchen, ground the beans, measured the water, and started the coffee. While it
brewed, he checked the Barncam from the kitchen monitor. Cissy and her filly looked just fine. Better than fine.

He visited a website to check the weather forecast, and that looked good, too. Then he did something he hadn’t even considered doing until this very second.

He went to Google and typed in
Chicago
and
Detective Elizabeth Dearborn.
The number of hits was phenomenal—mostly newspaper archives and police reports, court records from cases in which she’d been involved. She’d mentioned once that she had been with Avery Mutual for three years, so he limited his search to prior years.

Why am I doing this?

Because he cared about her more than he should. Because she was keeping secrets, and he could never forget that Lorilee had kept secrets. He would always wonder if those secrets had led to her death. Her drinking? Some of her outings?

Was that the reason? Getting involved—he was
already
involved—with another woman of secrets scared the living hell out of him. Yeah, he supposed that was it. Partly. But there was also plain, old-fashioned curiosity. Why would someone give up a glamorous big-city Homicide position to work for an insurance company? Huge demotion. There had to be a reason…

DISTINGUISHED DETECTIVE RESIGNS FROM FORCE

Ty stopped at this headline, dated just a little over three years ago. He scanned the article quickly. It didn’t tell him much, except that Detective Elizabeth Dearborn had solved every single murder case she’d
been assigned with amazing efficiency, and that her sudden resignation had shocked the community. Though her methods had been considered somewhat unorthodox by some, she always brought evidence to the prosecutor that he could use in court. The article didn’t explain the use of the term
unorthodox,
but now Ty’s curiosity was really aroused.

When they grew to know and trust each other better, he would ask her himself. Meanwhile, enough snooping. He closed the browser and checked the Barncam again.

Nice.

“I smell coffee,” Beth said from the doorway.

Ty looked up, startled. “I didn’t even hear you come down the stairs.”

“Barefoot.” She looked down and wiggled her toes for emphasis. Her dark curls clung damply to the sides of her beautiful face.

“You’re gorgeous.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” she said, retrieving two mugs from the hooks under the cupboard. She poured them each a mug of steaming brew. “Black?”

“Yup.” Ty accepted the mug and blew across the surface of the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip. “Mmm. Coffee.”

“My favorite food group,” Beth said with a laugh.

“I’ve heard that about cops.” Ty grinned.

“But cops make hideous coffee, so don’t ask me to do it.” She returned his grin. “They teach us at the academy to make the worst possible pot of coffee imaginable.”

He studied her expression as she sipped her coffee. “Do you miss it?” he finally asked, because he wanted to know.

She looked up, startled, then looked quickly away as if to shield her eyes from view. “Yes. Yes, I do.” She walked around the kitchen and stopped at the computer monitor. “Ah, I see mother and baby are awake and seem to be fine.”

“Yes.” Ty joined her there to look down at the mare and foal. Cecil’s image appeared on the monitor next. “Ah, if he’s up and about, that means I’d better get my ass in gear or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

She reached behind him and patted the ass in question. “I think your ass does just fine.”

He cupped her cheek with his free hand and kissed her mouth. “And yours is magnificent.”

“My, my.”

The moment Ty left the kitchen, Beth launched the browser on the monitor and checked the history. “Damn.” She didn’t feel angry as much as she simply felt betrayed.

Why was Ty checking up on her? Why now? Why the morning after, so to speak?

“Dammit, Ty,” she muttered just as she heard the keys in the back door. That would be Pearl, of course. She cleared the history herself, then closed the browser window just as the door creaked open.

“Up bright and early, I see,” Pearl greeted. “I thought you might sleep in after all the excitement around here last night.”

Beth leaned against the counter, holding her mug in both hands. “Another day, another dollar.”

“You sound like my Cecil.” She chuckled. “He’s already down at the barn checking on the new filly.”

“We saw him on the webcam.” Beth took a sip of coffee.

“Oh, Ty’s awake, too.” She poured herself a cup of
coffee. “I’ll rustle up some breakfast as soon as I start my engines.”

Beth smiled at the older woman—someone she admired more every day. “He headed up to shower after he made the coffee,” she explained. “I told him to never trust a former cop to make coffee.”

“Just like on TV?” Pearl laughed and went to the refrigerator to pull out eggs and bacon.

Beth, when she ate breakfast, was more the yogurt-and-granola type. She remembered last night’s beef stew and asked, “You don’t worry much about cholesterol out here, do you?”