Last Night's Kiss (3 page)

Easy didn’t seem to be in her vocabulary, since this party was planned for just twenty-four hours after removal of the leg brace. Rosa helped as much as she could and Vida had hired a caterer to prepare the food.

“I’m not planning to stay the entire summer with Vida. I’m taking a house,” she told Bailey.

“Oh,” he said, clearly surprised at this revelation. “Where?”

“I don’t know yet. Liam tells me there are several properties in the area I can rent for a few months.”

Bailey glanced over his shoulder at Liam. He was talking to Wes Gilchrist, the owner of a local dry cleaning business, whose image Liam nearly obliterated. He nodded as if thinking of something, but decided not to say it.

“Bailey,” someone called. “Good to see you.”

A man no taller than Rosa approached them. He had gleaming white teeth, and was near to Bailey’s age. His hair was equal parts black and white.

“Well, Sam, when did you get back?” Bailey smiled and the two men pumped each other’s hand. Rosa didn’t know how long their separation had been.

“Moments ago,” he said. “Came straight here.”

“Sam Stone, meet Rosa Clayton, our guest of honor. Sam consults for a company in Seattle and spends a lot of time in airplanes.”

Sam looked at her, his smile as big as the sky. Saying hello, he shook her hand as if she were a one-arm bandit.

“Vida’s done nothing but talk about your visit for a month,” he said. “Glad you made it.”

“Thank you.” She looked from one man to the other knowing they wanted to reacquaint themselves. “Excuse me, I’ll put this away.” She indicated the bud vase she was still holding.

With a nod she left them, going to the kitchen and placing the flower on top of the refrigerator. She took a moment to breathe. The kitchen was momentarily empty. The caterers were seeing to the tables of food in the other room.

Rosa raised her arms above her head and stretched. The kinks in her back and neck eased. The kitchen door swung inward and she turned. Adam Osborne faced her. His presence surprised her as did the current of electricity that bolted through her when she saw him. Rosa wanted to say something, but could think of nothing. Falling back on her manners, she asked, “Can I get you something?”

She regretted the words the moment she saw his eyes sweep her form from tip to toe.

“Water, juice,” she offered, her tone letting him know she was not part of the available menu.

“Water will do,” he said.

Turning to the refrigerator, she pulled the door open and took out two bottles of water. Her throat suddenly felt parched and dry. Handing him one bottle, she twisted the top from the other and drank thirstily. Adam held his, but didn’t drink.

“Feeling a little overwhelmed?” he asked.

She shook her head, but she was lying and she knew he could tell.

“You know it’s strange to think that someone so used to being stared at and admired could have crowd phobia.”

“I’m not afraid of the crowd.”

“What is it, then?”

Rosa wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her secret to this man. Yet she heard her own voice saying it. “I’m tired of being stared at only because of what I look like.”

“You think that’s how they view you?” He took a step toward her. Rosa held her ground.

She nodded. “How do you think they view you? Your legion of fans? Do you think they look past your face and into an intelligent mind?” She doubted it. The man had a raw sexuality that radiated from him. Any woman in his realm couldn’t resist it, except her. She’d seen this kind of man before. She had brothers with the same attributes, an aura that drew women. And Rosa wasn’t about to let the superficial outer layer of a man sway her. Yet she admitted to herself that her blood pressure had gone up a notch or two when she saw him standing in the doorway.

“I can’t control what people think.”

In lieu of speaking, she nodded. It was a good answer. One she’d adopted herself. It didn’t mean she didn’t want to show off her brain, but her face and body preceded her and men mostly didn’t listen when what they were seeing took precedence. Vida told her she’d constructed an invisible wall around her feelings and she wouldn’t let anyone get close to her. Rosa pushed the notion aside. She moved around too often to commit to a relationship. Of course, she had friends all over the world, but no one special.

“I’d better get back.” Rosa took a step toward the door. Adam moved in front of her, blocking her way. Without thinking, she instinctively moved back. She hated herself for doing it, but somehow she didn’t want him to touch her.

“I’m sure you’re missed out there,” he said. “But I have a question for you.”

“What is it?” Her throat was dry and she opened the bottle of water again and took a drink. Although it was wet, it didn’t seem to satisfy her thirst.

“Why are you here?”

“Here?” Her heart beat faster. She didn’t know what he meant. From what she’d heard from the people in the other room, everyone had known for months she was coming. “I came for the waters. I hear they have healing powers.”

Adam didn’t take to the joke. His face went dark. She could see the blood paint a dark undertone below his brown skin.

“You don’t look broken to me,” he said.

“Looks can be deceiving. And I know the proper use of light and makeup.”

“You can stop being sarcastic,” he said. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Vida doesn’t need someone she’s going to have to wait on. She had a bad fall and she needs to heal.”

“Vida’s not an invalid. And you don’t need to worry about her waiting on me.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m taking a rental. Liam says I might find a house.”

“What? When? Where?” Vida stood in the doorway. She hobbled inside, letting the door swing closed. “I thought you were going to spend the summer with me. When did you decide this?”

“Staying with you would be fine for a weekend, even a week, but I’m here for the summer.”

“So? We were roommates on the road. What’s the difference?”

Rosa smiled and looked at her friend. “We’re not on the road, Vida. On the road we were working ninety hours a day. We hardly did anything in those rooms but fall into a tired sleep and shower. At our age being roommates is like having dead fish in your kitchen.” Rosa spread her hands to encompass the room. “After three days they smell.” She smiled. “And we’d probably be ready to kill each other long before that.”

“But where will you live?”

“I don’t know yet. Liam is showing me some places tomorrow afternoon.”

“I know I’m not going to be able to change your mind,” Vida said. The two of them had spent enough time together to know their minds. “But see if you can find something close by. There are things about Montana you don’t know. Dangers that could get you hurt.”

“Like bears,” Rosa joked.

“Like bears,” Adam stated without the hint of a joke in his voice. “Coyotes, snakes—”

“How about werewolves?” she asked, staring him directly in the eye.

Adam peered at Rosa from across the room several minutes later. She had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. What was she doing in Waymon Valley? Okay, she had a friend here, but this was a nowhere kind of place, a way station, a pit stop on the way to somewhere else. People didn’t come here for the season. They had no tourist industry.

Butte, a stone’s throw away, was a day trip. People came to see the defunct copper mines. Take the tour. They took pictures in western garb, drank Coca-Cola, and piled back into their vans or SUVs and hurried off to Glacier National Park, Yellowstone in Wyoming, or back to their RVs at one of the local campsites. They didn’t hang around for the entire summer.

Rosa Clayton was hiding something. The journalist in him knew it. She was a story in the making. He’d give Ben a call. Suddenly Adam stopped. He was no longer a journalist. He’d left that life behind in Washington, D.C. He was a rancher now. And Rosa Clayton was none of his business.

“So, Adam, what do you think? Is she as pretty as her pictures?”

He glanced at Vida, who’d sidled up beside him.

“I can feel the friction between you two, but you have to admit, you can’t keep your eyes off her.”

“You shouldn’t spend so much time on that leg,” Adam said, distracting himself from Vida’s all too true comment.

“I’ll take care of it,” she said. “Now answer my question.”

Giving his full attention to Vida, he was surprised to find that he didn’t want to look away from Rosa. There was something fascinating about her. Something that commanded not only his attention, but every man’s in the room.

“If I didn’t know better,” Adam told her, “I’d say you were into a little matchmaking.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to get serious about a woman.”

“It wouldn’t help me, either.”

Since Vida had returned to her childhood home, she and Mike Holmes had picked up their relationship just where they’d left it when the three of them were back in high school. Vida thought Adam had put his life on hold and that finding a mate would do him good. She was wrong.

“Besides, she’s way too beautiful for me.”

He lifted the drink he was holding and sipped the glass of champagne. They rarely had champagne at parties. Waymon Valley was more a beer and pretzel place. They had a couple of white-tablecloth restaurants, but their parties were mainly barbecues. Glancing at Rosa Clayton, he understood the reason for the drink. She moved through the room like a queen.

“I don’t think so,” Vida said. “She’s more than a pretty face. She’s got a brain, too. Wait until you get to know her.”

“I’m not going to get to know her. I don’t expect our paths to cross more than a few times the entire summer if she stays that long.” He clearly didn’t see it happening. “Come September she’ll be off to Paris or Rome or Australia and I’ll be tending horses and making sure my father takes his medicine.”

They both looked toward Bailey Osborne. He was talking to Rosa. She laughed at something he said. Bailey was a charmer, Adam thought. Even at his age, women still vied for his company.

“What’s she doing here?” Adam asked. He wasn’t one to skirt an issue. As a reporter, he needed the facts and baldly asked Vida.

“Vacationing, visiting a friend, finding a place to unwind. Being a model is hard work and no one works harder than Rosa.”

“Why here? And for three whole months. This sounds more like hiding out than just spending time with friends. You heard her. Staying with friends for longer than a few days…” He trailed off.

Vida laughed. “You’ve been a reporter too long,” she accused. “This is not the naked city or the nation’s capital. Stop looking for conspiracy theories around every corner.”

“The problem with that,” he told her, “is there usually
is
a conspiracy around every corner.”

It must have something to do with the curvature of the earth, Rosa thought as she look up at the sky from her new patio. She’d met Vida in Greece during a photo shoot, and naturally the two had talked about their origins, their families, and where they lived. When Vida told her how big the sky was in Montana, Rosa took it with a grain of salt, but today she understood. It was something you had to see. It couldn’t be filmed or photographed, at least not with justice to the splendor and vastness. She needed to be able to stand in the space and bathe in the limitless light.

Rosa place a bowl of fruit on the table. She’d moved into her rented house three days ago, two weeks after she’d stepped off the plane. It was freshly painted and had two stories. Unlike Vida’s development house, this place was rustic with a loft bedroom on the top level. She’d divided the space into two areas, using a third of it as an office. She’d found an old fax machine downstairs. Bringing it up, she put it on a makeshift desk and left a place to sit the computer she’d ordered. She used to have video conferencing equipment her brother Dean insisted everyone use for family meetings. In the past few years the Internet had replaced the need to carry that equipment from place to place. And it had come in handy with the six of them living and moving so far from one another.

The bottom floor was one big room. The walls had been painted a deep dark mahogany, making the white molding around the doors and windows stand out. One wall was decorated with pictures of national parks. Rosa was thankful there were no stuffed animal heads staring at her through glass eyes. Because the ceiling was so high, a system of invisible wires had been strung across the room. Suspended from them were small lights with a lot of illumination. To further disguise the lights, an array of figures hung from or balanced on the wires. They added a bit of whimsey to the formal room and Rosa liked the touch.

The floors were hardwood, a rich brown with a hint of red that reflected the walls. The furniture was overstuffed and comfortable, two large sofas flanking a fireplace that spoke of use on cold Montana nights. Islands had been created in the large space using area rugs and group placement. There was a living room area and an alcove perfect for reading. The kitchen counter defined the cooking area, which was long and spacious.

The upstairs had a railing that ran the length and breadth of the room. Standardized spindles composing the structure had been rejected, with the builder opting instead for an intricately carved mosaic that had one blending into the next. From a distance the carvings told a story. Rosa could see horses and wagons in one area while industry had grown in others. She made a mental note to read it or find out what it meant later. A king-size bed dominated the only bedroom. No stereotypical longhorns adorned a headboard or stared down from the walls. A serene scene of snow-capped mountains hung next to a historic map of the Montana Territory.

Rosa spun around. The place was masculine, dark with touches of light here and there. She loved it.

She signed the lease and moved in the same day.

When she’d told her family she was spending the summer in Montana, they’d immediately thought something was wrong. Workaholic that she was, she was always off to the airport heading for the next destination. And Waymon Valley was a small town, not a major metropolis where she usually lived and worked. But she was older now and living on planes and out of suitcases was beginning to wear thin. Vida had done it three years ago. Rosa was twenty-seven. She had many years left on the runway. Her skin was smooth, unmarred by even the hint of a wrinkle, and she could pick and choose her contracts. Money wasn’t an issue. With more time for saving than spending, she’d amassed a nest egg large enough to take into the next millennium.

The one missing item in the place, Rosa noticed, was a television. She hadn’t been able to see the news since she’d arrived. Vida told her the mountains blocked cable signals and there were places were cell phones were iffy. Rosa could get DIRECTV, which bounced off satellites, but this house wasn’t equipped with it.

Rosa was a news junkie and her family suggested she wean herself off it during this rest period. She’d give it a try. Taking this house over the others she’d seen was because it had no access to WNN, the twenty-four hour news station she was addicted to watching. The most she could get would be from the local Waymon Valley television station, but the absence of a television solved that issue. It wasn’t going to be easy. She already missed being able to find out what was going on in the world.

A knock came on the door as Rosa was putting the finishing touches on the patio table. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but Vida’s leg was better and she was now allowed to drive short distances. Waymon Valley wasn’t that large, so driving anywhere posed no problem. Maybe she’d decided to drop by and see Rosa’s new place.

On her way to the door, Rosa checked her watch, or where her watch had been. Wearing one was another thing she was weaning herself from. She’d left it on the end table upstairs. There was no schedule she was on while she was here.

She opened the door and froze when she saw Adam Osborne standing there. A moment later, she looked behind him, scanning the space left and right for Vida.

“I know,” he said, placing his hands on his hips in a purely casual way, but her eyes followed the action. “You weren’t expecting me.”

“No, I—”

“You have a package,” he interrupted. “Or I should say packages.”

Adam picked up a large box and moved to pass Rosa. She stepped aside, allowing him access to the house.

“Where do you want it? It’s heavy so you should put it where you’re going to open it.”

It was the computer equipment she would use to talk to her family and search the Internet. She wondered if it would work here. The mountain blocked cable signals. Maybe they would block the Internet, too.

“Upstairs,” she said.

He took the steps two at a time, running with the box as if it weighed no more than empty air. Rosa watched him with interest. He was a strange man. He did favors for people, but with an air that he’d rather not. At least that’s how
she
saw it. He walked along the loft, passing her bedroom, and put the box in the area she’d set up as an office. Good, she thought. She could open it there and set things up. She’d call her brothers in Texas tonight and see what was going on in the world.

When he returned to the bottom floor, she was frowning at him.

“What?” he asked.

“How’d you get these?”

“I was in town and thought I’d save Matt a trip.”

“Matt?”

“He runs a package delivery service,” Adam said. “I had some business in town and ran into him.” He left her to go to his truck. Returning, he carried three more boxes. “Same place?” he asked.

Rosa nodded. As he disappeared up the steps, Rosa didn’t even try to resist turning to stare. The man had the best ass she’d ever seen. Despite his attitude, his jeans fit in all the right places. There were several agencies she could recommend him to if he wanted to model the sexy jean look. Rosa turned away. She wasn’t about to go dry-mouthed over someone she didn’t like and who didn’t like her.

“These weigh a ton,” he said, straining. What’s in them? Books?” Adam spoke from the loft.

“Clothes and some computer equipment,” Rosa corrected. “The packing weighs more than the equipment.”

Adam came down the stairs. He brushed his hands together, then swept away invisible lint from his pants.

“Thank you,” Rosa said, “but I don’t expect you to run errands for me.”

“No problem. It wasn’t out of my way.”

“I see,” she said. She’d learned that his father’s ranch wasn’t far from her house. In fact, it was the next property. Rosa had yet to see the house. As Liam had driven her here, he’d pointed out the different properties. Mostly what she could see was a driveway and a sign designating the name of the ranch. The last one they’d passed before reaching the house was Bailey Osborne’s place.

“Do you need any help opening them?” Adam brought her back from her musings.

She shook her head. She knew he didn’t like her, and she wondered why he went to the trouble of bringing her packages. “I can handle it,” she said, relieving him of the displeasure her company would cause.

He nodded and shrugged at the same time. Then headed for the door.

“So deliverymen do that out here?”

Adam stopped and turned back.

“Isn’t it against the law for them to allow someone else to deliver packages sent through their service?”

“It’s not against the law. It might be against company policy, but there’s no law governing package delivery by nonfederal agencies. And yes, that’s the way things are done out here. We help each other when necessary.”

“You say that like you’re a native.”

“I am a native.”

“Not anymore. You’ve been back for two or three years. Prior to that you were roaming around the world, doing the news from every hot spot there is. Your experiences have made you a foreigner in your hometown.”

“What makes you think that after being here for two minutes?”

“You get the same reception I do.”

“So?”

“So when you’re not an outsider, people just say hello and keep going. For you they stop, flock around, like you were an outsider.”

“They only do that because of what I’ve done.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. Rosa didn’t wait for another reply. She passed him and moved to open the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned back. She would never understand what happened next. She’d intended to open the door and usher him out. Maybe it was his dislike of her that intrigued her or the fact that she’d been so rude. She didn’t usually act like that. And men didn’t usually react as if she carried the plague. She wanted to know what it was about her that Adam found so unpalatable.

“Adam, I apologize. I’m not usually rude to people. I was about to eat. If you haven’t eaten yet, I’m willing to share my lunch.”

Her admission was unexpected and she could see surprise reflected in his eyes. “The food is already prepared,” she said, gesturing toward the terrace. She hated eating alone. Manners forced her to offer him something for his troubles, but she had other reasons.

Adam swung his gaze in a lazy fashion toward the open door leading to the wood-planked patio that held a picnic table and bowls of food.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t often cook. When I do it’s usually for a lot of people. So I haven’t got the hang of cooking for one.”

She went to the kitchen and got a second place setting.

“Okay if I wash my hands?” He spread them out as she pulled silverware from a drawer.

“Sure,” she said.

He went to the bathroom and she set a place for him on the table.

“It’s not much,” she said, when he joined her. “I mean I don’t do cow often.”

“And you’re from Texas? Isn’t that against the law?”

“Only in Texas.” She relaxed, smiling at him. She hadn’t told him where she was from and she had no Texas twang. She’d studied hard to get rid of it before doing commercials. Vida could have told him. She was quickly learning that everyone knew the story of everyone else’s life in the Valley. “When I’m in Texas, I eat it, but there I have sisters-in-law who are wonderful cooks.”

Rosa spooned salad onto her plate. She’d made a spinach salad with mandarin oranges and raisins. Topping it were julienne strips of chicken, ham, and roast beef she’d bought at the grocery store. Because she loved lemonade and never got any freshly made except at her sister-in-law Erin’s house in Cobblersville, Texas, she’d made a pitcher. The day, which was unseasonably warm, called for it.

“Sisters-in-law,” Adam said. “How many?”

“Two that live in Texas. I have one in Philadelphia and one in upstate New York.”

“You have
four
brothers?” He sounded surprised.

“Four brothers and a sister.” Rosa poured lemonade into their glasses.

“Six children. Parents didn’t believe in birth control?”

“They believed in birth control. They also believed in adoption.”

“You were adopted?” His voice changed slightly. The accusation she read in it disappeared for a moment.

She nodded. “We all were.”

“All six of you?”

“By the best parents in the world,” Rosa assured him, popping a leaf of spinach into her mouth.

“You were lucky. I covered more than a few stories where foster children were abused.”

“We were. Lucky, I mean. Our parents took in the hard-core, unadoptable kids and we all turned out okay.”

“You were unadoptable?” He leaned back in the chair and smiled his skepticism.

“I was four. Abandoned by my mother at a hospital. My adoptive mother was the doctor on call who found me.”

He leaned forward and suddenly became serious. “Did you ever find out why she abandoned you?”

“She died.” Rosa said it without emotion. Devon and Reuben Clayton were the only parents she’d ever known. Her biological mother had no face in her mind and no attachment to her affections. “The police tracked her down. She was an alcoholic. When they found her, she was very weak. She didn’t live long after they got her to the hospital. She did ask for me once. She called me Rosa. My parents kept the name.”