Grady started the truck’s engine. “I was thinking we could stop at the bowling alley for a pizza.” He glanced at her. “You game?”
“I’m game for anything with you,” she assured him. “But I’ll need to phone Dovie to make sure Maggie’s okay first.”
“No problem.” He backed out of their parking space and they drove to the bowling alley.
After a quick phone call, Caroline joined Grady in a booth at the café. He got out so she could slip in beside him. Not so long ago, he’d have preferred to sit in the cold rather than share her company, Caroline mused. Now they could hardly bear to be separated by even a table.
“Everything all right with Maggie?” he asked.
“She’s fine. Dovie said she’s already asleep.”
“Hey, first grade is a big step for a kid.”
Especially when Maggie had only recently outgrown naps. She fell asleep before her eight o’clock bedtime most evenings.
“Dovie doesn’t mind keeping her a bit longer?”
“Not at all,” Caroline told him. She didn’t mention that she was worried about her friend. Although Dovie hadn’t said much about her breakup with Sheriff Hennessey, it had obviously been hard for her; a smile didn’t come as easily and she seemed listless, de pressed. From what Caroline had seen of the sheriff, he wasn’t handling the situation any better.
Caroline wished she could help in some way, but experience had taught her that Frank and Dovie had to work this out them selves. She wasn’t optimistic, though. Their relationship had been a long-standing one, and if they were going to reconcile, she suspected it would have happened by now.
“I talked to Glen yesterday and he told me something about Cal,” Grady said after they’d ordered the mushroom-and-pepperoni pizza. “You’ll never guess.”
“When it comes to Cal, you’re right—I won’t guess.”
“He’s got a date.”
“A date? Cal?” Caroline was shocked. “Who?”
Grady smiled. “The new doc.”
“Jane Dickinson?”
“Right. He’s teaching her how to ride.”
This was news. “What possessed him to do such a thing? Cal, the woman-hater.”
Grady shrugged. “Hell if I know. I gotta tell you it came as a shock to me, too.” He leaned toward Caroline. “Cal didn’t even tell his brother. Glen found out from his mother, who heard about it from Dovie, who heard from the good doctor herself.”
“Typical,” Caroline said with a laugh. “But still, it sounds promising.”
Love would change Cal Patterson, and she was anxious to see it happen. Ever since his broken engagement, he’d shut himself off from any association with the opposite sex. Caroline suspected falling in love would have a powerful positive impact on him.
Caroline liked Cal and knew that his friend ship was important to Grady. She was pleased that Grady had asked him to serve as best man at their wedding. In every way that counted, Cal was more of a brother to Grady than his own.
“I saw Cal’s truck this evening,” Grady said.
“Parked outside the health clinic,” Caroline guessed.
He nodded. “I have a feeling about this.”
“A good feeling, I hope.”
“A very good feeling,” he said, grinning.
THE CLOCK SAID ALMOST TEN before Jane had finished setting Jeremy Bishop’s arm and securing it in a cast. After giving Nell instructions for the pain medication, Jane and Cal walked the family outside.
“You were a good patient, Jeremy,” Jane told the boy. He’d been in a lot of pain, but despite that, he’d willingly cooperated with everything she’d needed him to do.
“He’s got a lot of his father in him,” Nell said, looking proudly at her son. She stood outside her car, drawn and tired from the ordeal. “Thank you both,” she said. “I was pretty shaken when we first arrived. I’m afraid if I’d gone into the examination room, I’d have done something stupid—like faint.”
Jane had thought the same thing. “You’re his mother. It’s to be expected.”
“You were great with him,” Nell told her. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” It was helping people like Nell and her family that made Jane’s job a pleasure. They hadn’t really met before tonight, but she’d heard about Nell from Ruth Bishop, a heart patient. Nell was a widow and Ruth’s daughter-in-law.
“Go home, get plenty of rest, and if the pain doesn’t decrease, give me a call.”
“I will,” Nell promised, climbing into the car. “Thanks again.”
Jane and Cal stood by the door of the clinic until Nell had pulled out of sight.
“You hungry?” Cal asked, his hand on Jane’s shoulder.
“Starving,” she confessed.
“Me, too.”
They warmed the takeout in the microwave and sat side by side on the examination table, holding the card board containers on their laps.
“This tastes like heaven,” Jane told him between bites. The enchilada sauce and melting cheese dripped from her plastic fork.
“That’s because we’re hungry.”
“I’m sorry our dinner date was ruined.” She did feel bad about that. Cal had been thoughtful and patient—bringing them their meal, comforting Nell, sitting here for hours—and she wanted him to know how much she appreciated it.
“I’m not,” he surprised her by saying. Her reaction must have shown in her eyes because he added, “It was good to see you in action. You’re a damned good doctor.”
His praise flustered her and she looked away. “Thank you.”
“You were great with the kid,” he said and hopped down from the table to toss the container in the garbage.
“I appreciated your help. Nell was frazzled and anxious.” She crossed the room to discard her leftovers; when she turned around, she in advertently bumped into Cal.
His arm shot out to balance her, although she wasn’t in danger of falling. The move had been instinctive, but the moment he touched her, she froze. Cal did, too. It was a little thing, of no importance, but it caught her off guard. The shaken look on Cal’s face told her he was equally affected.
Then before her instincts could warn her, it happened. Cal bent his head and kissed her. It was almost as though that, too, was an accident. The kiss was hard, quick, their mouths moist and warm. Then it was over.
Jane stared at him, unblinking. Cal stared back. They studied each other for a startled moment. He seemed about to apologize when he suddenly grinned, instead. It was one of the sexiest smiles she’d ever seen. Then he kissed her again.
As kisses went, this one was innocent. Simple. Yet Jane trembled with the after shock. She’d been too long without a man, she decided. That was why this rancher had such a powerful effect on her senses.
Desperate to steer her mind away from what had just happened, she said, “I…I spoke with Dovie Boyd recently. She happened to mention a ghost town.”
Cal frowned, but Jane wasn’t sure his displeasure was the result of their kiss or her comment. Possibly both.
“Bitter End,” Jane added. “Have you ever heard of it?”
He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets.
He wasn’t forth coming with any more information. “Then there really is a ghost town in the area?” she prodded.
Cal shrugged.
Jane made herself busy about the room, putting away her supplies. “Have you been there?”
He didn’t answer until she turned to face him, and even then his eyes avoided hers. “Once, as a kid.”
Her excitement grew. “Will you take me there? I’d love to see what it’s like now.”
“Jane, I can’t.”
His refusal bewildered her. “Why not?”
“I don’t even know if I could find it.”
“But we could do that together. I’ll be taking more riding lessons, and we’ve got to move me out of the corral at some point. This would give me a goal, some incenti
ve.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” Jane could tell he wasn’t pleased with her persistence.
“It’s dangerous there.”
“All I want to do is see it,” she said, un willing to give up without an argument. “One time, that’s all I’m asking.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
It was his attitude that got to her—as if she were a child who had to settle for because I said so as an excuse. How could he kiss her one moment and insult her the next?
“Is there a reason for this?” she asked, her voice growing cool.
“A very good one.”
She waited for him to explain himself, and when he didn’t, she said it for him. “It’s because I’m an outsider, isn’t it? Because I wasn’t born and raised here. It’s all right for me to give three years of my life to this community, but I’ll never be fully accepted.” The strength of her feelings shocked Jane. It hurt that he’d categorically deny her the one thing she’d asked.
His features softened. “Jane, that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“First, I don’t know where Bitter End is. I really don’t. Second, I’ve got better things to do with my time than wander around the countryside looking for some old town best for gotten.”
This was quite a speech for Cal. “But you’ve already been there once.”
“Years ago,” he said, “when I was a kid.”
“You should be able to find it again.”
“Jane, no.”
The evening had started out with great promise; now this. What Cal Patterson didn’t understand was that she was an old hand at getting what she wanted. She’d been forced to acquire the skills, to refine the tactics. Medical school had taught her that. She’d learned how to deal with older physicians who felt women had no place in medicine. She’d come face-to-face with the old-boy network more than once. People assumed this sort of outdated thinking wasn’t prevalent any longer, but they were wrong. She’d seen it and dealt with it on a daily basis, and learned there was more than one way to achieve what she wanted.
“I’m sorry to hear you won’t help me find the ghost town,” she said softly.
“It’s no place for a green horn.”
“I see.” Her tone was noncommittal.
He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I have the feeling I’m butting my head against a brick wall?”
So he knew. “I’ll find Bitter End with or without you,” she said matter-of-factly.
Cal’s eyes closed for an instant. “And if I decide not to continue with the riding lessons, you’ll have someone else teach you, too?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t going to lie about her intentions. That was exactly what she’d do if necessary—only she hoped it wouldn’t be. “I’d much rather continue with you, though.” She took a deep breath. “Cal, I’m not trying to be manipulative here. But I want to see this town. I’ll admit I’ve become kind of obsessed with it. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get there.”
It was several moments before he responded. “It’s not safe in Bitter End.”
“So you said.”
“The town’s…evil.”
“Evil? You mean there are ghosts?”
“Not that type of evil.” He paced the room as though it was impossible for him to stand still any longer. “Grady Weston, Glen and I found Bitter End a number of years ago. I must have been about fifteen at the time, high on adventure. Fearless, like all kids that age. Cocky, some might say.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that was so long ago,” she joked.
He didn’t crack a smile. “We searched for weeks, the three of us. It was summer and we went out looking every day we could. We studied maps, even checked out an old journal that had belonged to Grady’s father and had a few cryptic hints.”
“But you found the town,” Jane said, her voice rising with excitement.
“Yes, eventually we located it.”
“Did you explore? What was it like? I’d love to see it! Oh, Cal, please re consider.”
His sigh was deep and troubled. “You can’t imagine how thrilled we were when we stumbled across it. We’d been searching all that time, and then one afternoon there it was. Surprisingly most of the buildings were intact.”
“That’s incredible!” Just wait until her mother heard this. She’d want to know every detail.
“But it wasn’t what we expected,” Cal told her, his eyes somber.
“How do you mean?”
“There’s something wrong in that town. Like I said, something evil. We all felt it the moment we rode down the street. The horses felt it, too. The entire time we were there, they were skittish.”
“Something evil?” This made no sense to Jane. “What exactly was the feeling like?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot in the last few months, ever since Grady told me Savannah’s been out there.”
“Savannah Smith?” Jane wondered if Cal realized he’d handed her a way of locating the town.
“She went there looking for old roses. According to what Grady said, she felt it, too. That same feeling.”
“Well, what was it?”
Cal shook his head. “It’s impossible to describe. I’ve never experienced anything like it before or since.”
“Try,” she pleaded.
“Like there’s a rope tightening around my chest,” he said, struggling to find the words. “A feeling of sadness. Loss. As though more than a century wasn’t enough time to wipe out the grief or the agony of whatever happened.”
“I’d still like to see it for myself,” she told him.
“I figured you would.” His tone was resigned.
“Does this mean you’ll take me?” She clasped her hands, prayer like. She didn’t want another riding teacher. She liked the one she had. And she wanted Cal to be her guide to Bitter End; if there was danger in the town, she’d rather he was with her.
“All right,” he finally agreed. “We’ll go look for it.”
Overjoyed, Jane threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. The next instant Cal wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. Without warning, his mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was urgent. Exciting. Cal didn’t give Jane an opportunity to break it off, not that she would have, but gradually, as though he realized what he’d done, he mellowed the kiss. He wove his fingers into her hair, then slowly, cautiously, they began to relax against each other. Jane moved her lips, opening to him—and the excitement built again.
Cal groaned. He twisted his mouth against hers, seeking more, and Jane was all too willing to comply. She wasn’t sure a man had ever kissed her quite like this. With such need, such intensity.
When he broke away, they were both gasping. “I…I think I need to sit down,” Jane said, reaching for the nearest chair and lowering herself into it.
“Me, too,” Cal said.
In voluntarily she raised her hands to her lips. The kiss had been fierce. Wonderful.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said next. But instead of sitting, he stalked about the room.
“I know.”
“I think you should realize I’ve already decided it would be…ill-advised for us to get involved.”
He sounded so absurdly formal. Had she been in full possession of her wits, she would have challenged him, demanded to know his reasons. But his kisses had left her senseless. Her own pride played a role in her reaction, too. She just looked at him, un willing, unable, to respond.
“I don’t mean to insult you,” he added.
“You didn’t,” she was quick to assure him, then hesitated, more confused than offended. “Are you saying you want to put a halt to the riding lessons?”
“Not at all. When will you be ready again?”
From the intense look in his eyes, Jane had the feeling he was inquiring about a lot more than horse back riding. “Tomorrow?” She raised her eyes to his. She wasn’t shy or cowardly or afraid of risks. M
edicine wasn’t a career for a woman who was weak at heart. If she had been, Jane wouldn’t have lasted a month in medical school.
“I’ll see you at three,” he said on his way out the door.
“I’ll be there,” she called after him. It’d take more than stubborn pride to upset her. She had a strong feeling that Cal Patterson had met his match—and an even stronger feeling that she’d met hers.
RICHARD WAS BORED BUT HE WAS smart enough to realize that the moment he left Bitter End, he’d risk being caught and hauled to jail.
By now, despite switching license plates, the truck he’d “borrowed” would be listed in a police computer as stolen. Relieving his boredom by leaving the ghost town was a risk he couldn’t afford to take, although it was damned tempting.
Leaning his chair against the side of the old hotel, he strummed a few chords on his guitar. Only, it wasn’t nearly as much fun to play without an audience.
He reached for the half-empty whiskey bottle and indulged in a healthy swig. The liquor wasn’t going to last, he could see that. He’d drunk twice as much as he’d estimated. His limited supply would need to see him through the next few months. A bottle wasn’t much company on the long lonely nights, but it was all he had. Hell, a man took what he could get.
He strummed a few more chords on the guitar and sang half heartedly. If his life had taken a different turn, he might have entered show business, made a name for himself. He would’ve enjoyed that.
He returned the bottle to his lips, shuddering at the potency of the drink. Enough liquor would help him forget. Or help him remember. Problem was, he couldn’t decide which he wanted anymore.
He tipped back his head and shouted with everything in him, “Is anyone home?” He waited for a response and was both relieved and disheartened when none came.
Even a ghost might be some company.
According to the days he’d marked off on the calendar, this was Friday night. If he’d still been in Promise, instead of hiding up in this godforsaken ghost town, he’d probably be at Billy D’s, drinking with the boys. Shooting the breeze, playing pool or maybe a game of darts.
He’d be singing, too, along with the jukebox. A little David Allan Coe, the ex-con turned singer. His music could get raunchy and off-color, but Richard didn’t mind. It was just the thing for a Friday night at the saloon.