Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes Read online

  sweet little girl of theirs. I wonder if the two of them will ever

  stop acting like newlyweds

  Abby smiled at thoughts of her younger sister and Hank, the man she'd

  married. "It's only been a month since the wedding, they're still

  allowed to act like newlyweds. Now, if I can just find a good man for

  Belinda."

  Sheila frowned. "Didn't she used to date Derek Walker before he left

  town?"

  Abby nodded. "I think Derek was Belinda's first real love." She

  frowned and took a bite of the pie, not wanting to think about the man

  who had been her first love.

  "Speaking of first loves ... your ex has been in and out of here during

  the last week," Sheila said, as if plucking the thought straight Out of

  Abby's head.

  "Yes, I heard he's back in town. I'm hoping if I ignore him he'll go

  away."

  "Speak of the devil..." Sheila gestured to the diner door, where Greg

  Foxwood had just walked in. "I don't think you're going to be able to

  ignore him this time." Sheila stood as Greg approached their booth.

  "Sheila." Greg nodded, a slow smile stretching across his handsome

  face. "How's the prettiest little waitress in town?"

  Sheila's face blushed a becoming pale pink. "I'm fine, you scamp."

  "Why don't you bring me a cup of coffee?" He slid into the seat Sheila

  had vacated. "I need to have a little chat with my ex-wife."

  As Sheila left, Abby fought the impulse to get up and leave. She'd

  successfully managed to avoid Greg for the past week, but she'd known

  all along a confrontation was inevitable.

  For a long moment she simply stared at the man she'd once loved with

  all the passion of a teenage

  ' girl. He'd changed little in the past six years. His hair was still

  a luxurious black, his blue eyes as clear as a spring Wyoming sky.

  With the wisdom of years and the objectivity of heartbreak, she also

  noticed more telling features. A weak chin she knew indicated his lack

  of character, thin lips that hinted at a hidden cruelty.

  She searched her heart, seeking some remnant of love for the man who'd

  fathered Cody. There was none. "What do you want, Greg?"

  He laced his hands on the tabletop and bent toward her. "You know what

  I want."

  "Let me guess. Money."

  He leaned back against the red vinyl and eyed her lazily. "Nope. You

  aren't going to buy me off this time."

  She quirked an eyebrow. "Why not? Don't tell me you've actually

  managed to acquire some character."

  "Oh, Abby, you wound me." He paused as Sheila reappeared at the table

  and poured his coffee. When Sheila left once again, Greg looked at

  Abby, his eyes hard and cold. "I want a relationship with my son."

  Abby balled her hands in her lap. "That's rich," she said bitterly.

  "Especially coming from a man who walked out when Cody was mere weeks

  old."

  "I did the right thing. I married you, didn't I? I gave the kid my

  name."

  Abby stared at him incredulously. Did he really believe that's all

  she'd needed from him, a cheap diamond ring and his last name? "The

  right thing? You deserted us." She drew a deep breath to steady

  herself. "Greg, if you really want to do the right thing for Cody, you

  won't see him. You've disappointed him so many times in the past with

  your letters filled with empty promises."

  "He's my kid just as much as he's yours. I got rights."

  "Your rights were terminated when you walked out on us." Abby flushed,

  realizing she'd shouted the words and had garnered the attention of the

  people around them. Again she took a deep breath. "Greg, Cody is a

  happy, well-adjusted little boy. If you really love him, if you really

  care about him, leave him be."

  "A boy needs a father."

  "A boy needs a role model and you aren't the one I want Cody to have.

  Twice before you've chosen money over seeing your son. That tells me

  all I need to know."

  "All that tells you is that I was temporarily low on funds." He sipped

  his coffee, apparently unaffected by the turmoil he created in her.

  "Aren't you going to finish your pie?" he asked.

  She Shook her head. Her guts were too twisted with emotion to eat. She

  should have left the moment he walked through the door. "How long are

  you in town for?" she asked. "A day ... another week? How can you

  possibly be a positivel part of Cody's life when you can't get your own

  life together?"

  "Maybe when I leave this time I'll just take the kid with me, teach him

  a little about real life."

  His words sent a cold fear shimmying up Abby's spine. The fear was

  quickly usurped by rage . a rage that nearly blinded her as she slid

  out of the booth.

  She leaned toward him, uncaring who heard her, what disruption she

  caused. "Listen to me, Greg, and listen well. I'm warning you right

  now. Stay away from Cody." She strode toward the door, then turned to

  him again. "You hear me? You try in any way to take Cody from me, you

  mess with our lives in any way--and I'll kill you. I'll kill you."

  She slammed out of the diner and toward her truck, her anger still

  trembling through her. Damn him. Damn his black soul. She got into

  the truck and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, trying to

  get her tumultuous emotions under control.

  Slowly her anger ebbed, leaving behind only a hollow ache of despair.

  She started the truck and took off, knowing she couldn't go home just

  yet. She didn't want Cody or the rest of her family to see her so

  emotionally distraught.

  She drove aimlessly, the window down to allow in the warm night air. If

  she knew for certain that Greg truly wanted to be a father to Cody, she

  wouldn't stop him. But leopards didn't change their spots.

  Greg had proven to her over and over again that his reasons for wanting

  to see Cody were less than altruistic. Twice before Greg had contacted

  Abby about seeing Cody, both times hinting broadly that for a little

  cold cash he'd go away. She'd paid him and he'd disappeared.

  This time was different. He was here in Cheyenne and threatening to

  take Cody. His game had suddenly changed and she didn't know the

  rules. She tightened her hands on the steering wheel.

  Greg had stolen her dreams years ago, seduced away her innocence, but

  she'd be damned if he'd steal her son. She'd see him in hell first.

  Luke BLACK SAT on the bed he'd been assigned in the bunkhouse and eased

  off his cowboy boots. He closed his eyes and rubbed a foot, wondering

  if another day in the damned boots would permanently cripple him. How

  in the hell did the other men wear boots day in and day out?

  The bunkhouse reminded Luke of his army days. Although it was too dark

  to make out the other beds in the room, a variety of snores and grunts

  attested to the fact that they were filled with ranch hands. Most of

  them had been smart enough to go to bed at a reasonable hour, knowing

  daybreak and work came early. But then, most of them didn't have any

  personal interest in Miss Abby Connor.

  In his stocking feet, using the moonlight as his guide, he
walked over

  to the window that looked out onto the ranch house. Several hours ago

  a carload of people had come home, but Abby hadn't returned. He eyed

  the luminous hands on his wristwatch. Two o'clock.

  Where had she gone? He'd seen her drive away hours ago. Did she have

  a lover? Somehow he didn't think so. When he'd spoken to her earlier,

  he'd noted an untouchable quality in her eyes, a cool distance that

  made him believe it had been a long time since she'd been touched by

  passion.

  He limped back to his bed and eased down, grateful that the mattress

  was soft and accommodating. Life as a ranch hand wasn't as easy as

  he'd anticipated. But then, when had life ever been easy for him?

  Still, the physical labor felt good. He'd spent too many years cooped

  up in his accounting office, depending on hours at the gym to keep him

  in shape.

  Throwing an arm across his eyes, he thought of Abby Connor. She hadn't

  been what he'd expected, although he wasn't exactly sure what he'd been

  expecting. He only knew he hadn't foreseen the pale wheat color of her

  short hair, nor the unruly cuds that danced like a frame around her

  face. She'd worn no makeup, but hadn't needed any to emphasize the

  blue of her eyes. He had anticipated she'd be attractive,

  but hadn't been prepared for her fresh-eyed, unspoiled prettiness.

  He wasn't fooled. She might look like a long-legged, milk-complected

  ranch girl, but he knew her heart was black. He wondered if Abby

  Connor had any idea just how difficult her life was about to get.

  Despite THE FACT that it had been nearly three when she'd finally

  gotten home the night before, Abby awoke at dawn. The first thing she

  did was go into Cody's room.

  Standing over him as he slept, her heart expanded with the kind of love

  she knew she'd never feel for another human being. Fierce, so intense

  it stole her breath away, her love for Cody was the sweetest, most pure

  of emotions.

  Gently she wiped an errant strand of pale hair from his forehead,

  breathing in the sweet scent of childhood. One thing Abby had to give

  Greg . he'd made a beautiful son. And if she knew Greg would be a

  healthy presence in Cody's life, she'd accommodate his wish to see his

  son. She leaned down and kissed Cody's forehead, smiling as be

  puckered a frown.

  Belting her robe around her waist, she left his room and padded to the

  kitchen. For a moment she wondered why Maria hadn't started coffee

  yet, then remembered that today was the cook's day off.

  The fight the night before with Greg had left a bitter aftertaste in

  her mouth. She started to make coffee, then decided instead to treat

  herself to a cup of her favorite hot chocolate mix.

  It took her only minutes to heat the water in the microwave, then scoop

  two teaspoonfuls of the mix from the canister where she kept the

  special mixture.

  She sat at the table and wrapped her hands around the warm mug. Her

  sisters teased her about her being the only woman in the world who

  drank hot chocolate year-round.

  She took a sip, enjoying the rich chocolate taste with the hint of

  raspberry sweetness. The concoction was made especially for her in a

  specialty shop in Cheyenne.

  Her thoughts turned back to her conversation with Greg. Was he

  bluffing? Was this just another attempt to extort more money from her,

  or was he really serious about trying to take Cody? Lord kneTM she

  didn't have the money for a custody battle.

  It was hard to believe she'd once thought herself so in love with Greg

  Foxwood. She'd just turned eighteen when he'd drifted into town and

  come to work on the Connor ranch. Instantly she'd developed a crush on

  the flirting, handsome man. She realized now he'd taken advantage of

  her youth and inexperience. They'd made love in the moonlight half a

  dozen times before she'd discovered herself pregnant.

  "Moonlight madness," she said aloud with a frown. "Or temporary

  insanity." Somehow she thought it was more the latter than the

  former.

  While she was thrilled that Colette had found and married the prince of

  her dreams, and she desperately hoped Belinda would someday find a

  special man, Abby had long ago set aside her dreams of love and

  happily-ever-after.

  Luke Black was wrong. She didn't hate men. She just didn't have any

  dreams left to share with a man. She was a single mother running a

  failing ranch. She didn't have the time or energy for a

  relationship.

  With a disgusted sigh, she emptied her mind of nonsense and instead

  focused on making a pot of coffee in anticipation of the others soon

  getting up for a new day.

  Dawn was just chasing away the last of the night clouds when a knock

  resounded on the back door. Frowning, wondering who would be here so

  early, she hurried to answer.

  "Can I come in for a minute?"

  Abby eyed Sheriff Junior Blanchard in surprise. "It's awfully early

  for a social call, Junior," she said as she opened the' screen door to

  allow him in. "This isn't a social call."

  A flutter of anxiety rippled through Abby's stomach as Junior's stern

  features didn't relax into his usual friendly smile. "Hmm, sounds

  ominous. Come on in. I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

  She pointed him to a chair at the large oak table, then poured two cups

  of coffee and joined him. "So, what has you out here so early? And

  without a smile? Did I forget to pay some traffic tickets or

  something?" She grinned, the smile slowly fading when Junior didn't

  return it. "Junior, what's wrong?"

  The sheriff passed a hand through his thick gray hair, his gaze not

  quite meeting hers. "Abby, I've got some bad news. Greg is dead."

  Abby hissed inwardly in shock. "Dead?" Her head reeled as she stared

  at Junior in horror. "How... when?"

  "He was murdered, Abby."

  "Oh, my God." Immediately all kinds of mental images filled her head.

  She'd hoped, she'd prayed, for many things where Greg was concerned,

  but she'd never wanted him dead. Now there would be no opportunities

  for Greg to mature and become the father Cody needed. She looked at

  Junior, still stunned by the news.

  "Somebody took a branding iron and hit him over the head. The branding

  iron was from this ranch. It happened between the hours of ten and

  two." Junior's gaze held weariness, sympathy and something else .

  something that caused another shiver of apprehension to sweep through

  Abby. "Abby, I need to know where you were in the hours between ten

  o'clock last night and two o'clock this morning."

  Abby stared at him, suddenly recognizing the alien emotion she saw in

  his eyes. Suspicion. Heaven help her, Junior thought she'd murdered

  Greg.

  Chapter Two

  Abby stared at Junior in horror. "Junior, you can't actually-believe I

  had anything to do with Greg's death."

  "It doesn't much matter what I believe. I've got to follow leads and

  facts, and facts are, I've got a dozen people who heard you threaten

  G'cg last night hours before he was found dead."
Junior shoved his

  coffee cup aside as if he'd lost any taste for the brew.

  A vision of herself leaving the diner, spewing threats, filled Abby's

  mind. She'd been so angry, so frightened. She didn't even remember

  everything she'd said, but she did remember telling Greg she'd kill

  him. Stupid, empty threats, that's all they'd been. "Junior, you know

  I could never hurt anyone," she exclaimed. "You've known me all my

  life. You know what kind of person I am."

  "I know how much you love that boy of yours, and I figure you never

  know what a person is capable of when they're pushed into a corner."

  Again his gaze didn't quite meet hers. "Abby, now's the time to talk.

  You know I'll do what I can to help you, but I can't help if you don't

  tell me the truth."

  "Junior." Abby reached out and took his big, gnarled hand in hers.

  "I'm telling you the truth. I had nothing to do with Greg's death."

  His hand squeezed hers and his eyes flashed with paternal tenderness.

  "I've got to tell you, Abby girl, right now it doesn't look good." He

  gave her hand a final squeeze, then released itJ "Of course, the

  investigation has just begun. Now..." He took a notepad from his

  breast pocket and flipped it open, then withdrew a pen. "Tell me where

  you were last night between the hours of ten and two."