Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (34 page)

He thought of Annie, the intensity
of their love and then the ultimate deterioration of everything in his life,
taking her love with it. Her big eyes were there, filled with fierce
determination before a barrel competition, softened in love play, their
conversations by turn razor sharp and playfully innocent. He and Annie had been
buddies, friends, and for a few intense weeks, lovers. Then it had all gone
sour. She'd chosen to stay with an ill-tempered old man and had done nothing
when Tyler was run out of town. He had never figured that one out; sweet,
loving Annie, letting him take a fall. He looked up at the sky, deliberately
easing the tension in his shoulders. How had he thought her sweet?

He wondered how Annie would feel
if he told her she'd be a rich woman if she'd left with him that night long
ago. Instead, the years had been tough on her and by all accounts she was
losing everything.

Tyler exited the barn, his boots
scuffing up bits of old hay and gravel. Hearing the sound of a fast approaching
horse, he walked outside and around the side of the barn toward the open
pasture. Hooves beat the ground in a flat out run. A horse and rider appeared,
galloping hell-for-leather through the soft mist clinging to the grass.
Recognition slammed him. He'd never forget that intensity of control, Annie's
fit and trim body, hair the deep color of dark chestnut out behind her. Tyler
couldn't take his eyes off Annie. He admired the pure symmetry between horse
and rider as they skimmed the ground. He was reminded of the skill that had
made her a champion barrel racer.

Tyler's heart hammered. How he
loved the beauty of running horses. There was nothing like it, especially on a
dead quiet morning. He tried to tell himself it had nothing at all to do with
seeing Annie again after six long years.

He'd thought he was prepared for
this meeting with her. Instead, he resented that he felt sucker-punched.
Christ, it seemed like only yesterday he'd chased her across this very field on
horseback. When he'd caught her and pulled her from her horse, it was as if
they couldn't get enough of each other. They'd made love under the hot sun, the
grass cushioning their bodies. Six years ago time had been meaningless to them.

As he watched, Annie wheeled the
wiry gray horse around a lone barrel in the pasture, then urged the animal into
a ground-eating lope in his direction. Tyler stood still as a gust of wind
lifted his hat from his head, tossing it like a challenge onto the grass.

Annie drew closer. Three yards
away her horse's hindquarters dipped and rear hooves slid, digging up clods of
grass and dirt. The gray's front legs were almost straight as she came to a
stop, narrowly missing Tyler's hat. Tyler ran an expert glance over the
animal's flexing muscles. Annie maintained only light contact with the horse's
mouth. He almost smiled.

"Tyler!"

Dust swirled around them. Bending,
Tyler retrieved his hat and slapped it against his leg, then stared at the new
crease along the hat brim. "Still the same old Annie. Bouncing your horse
around to get attention."

"Same old Tyler, too,"
she came back. "Smart remarks and all." She sat stiffly, staring away
from him. Her rigid shoulders told him he wasn't the only one being poked by
memory shards. "You're the last person I expected to see."

She didn't look at him, but kept
her upper body half-turned in the saddle. Dark shoulder length hair swung past
her cheek, hiding part of her face. The back of his legs stiffened and Tyler
stifled an urge to move closer. She was thin, almost too thin.

"Nice horse. Pretty
magnificent riding across the flat like that."

"Didn't know I had an
audience."

Annie's horse tossed its head, the
jangle of the bit the lone sound as she brushed long elegant fingers over the
animal's withers. Tyler found he could breathe again, hadn't even realized he'd
been holding his breath.

"Can't you look at me,
Annie?" It grated on him that it bothered him so much. He smiled grimly.
He could wait, he had plenty of time.

The sun suddenly shot out from
behind a cloud. Annie turned to shield her eyes from the glare. The light,
bright and unforgiving, shockingly outlined the scars marring the entire right
side of her face. Her skin, once flawless, was now mottled and discolored, the
flesh a mix of uneven red and white patches that ran like licking flames right
to the corner of her mouth.

"Annie!" Tyler knew
shock laced his voice. Pain split him in half, shooting to his toes and jetting
back up to his brain. His legs trembled where they'd been stiff a moment
before.

She jerked her head back and if
possible, her face turned even whiter except for the scars, and her eyes. . .
her eyes were a deep, wounded green.

"I prefer Anna," she
said tersely, now looking at him. "I didn't expect to see anyone or I'd
have put on my concealing makeup and spared you seeing this. People don't
usually come around unless calling first."

Tyler pressed a fist against his
hip. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such terrible scarring. But it was the
first time he'd seen it marring Annie's face. She'd always taken pride in her
looks, her skin and makeup. She'd hated being teased about her facials and hair
appointments.

"Now that we have that out of
the way --" hostility cracked in Annie's voice.

"How did it happen?" His
voice sounded grating, even to himself. Inside, he was gasping for air.

She seemed to move back, even by
the slightest fraction.

"Why are you here?" she
asked.

Tyler shoved back the sympathy for
what she must have suffered. It was obvious she didn't want it.  He'd figure
that part out when he was alone, the ache in his gut. "I guess you never
expected to see me again."

She turned just enough to conceal
the scarring, but he saw the tremble of her fingers on the reins.

"I'm sorry that Martin
died," he said gruffly. "No matter what had happened between us, I
know how much you cared about him." He stepped back and cleared his
throat. "I saw your ad in the horse quarterly." He was used to dealing
with people, but now he felt momentarily at a loss, too aware of her watchful
eye. He felt a curious empathy, but he didn't want to feel even that slight
connection to her.

She pulled at the frayed material
of her jeans while a light breeze played at the edge of her faded shirt.
"If you saw the ad then you know the ranch is up for lease."

"There's no sense in beating
around the bush. I want to buy it."

Her glare was hostile. "It's
not for sale."

"I've been checking around.
You might not have a choice."

Her fingers twisted into the
frayed holes at her knee. "You've been talking to people?"

"My lawyer made a few
discreet inquiries. Sell it to me now and I'll make it a painless
transaction."

"Go to hell."

"The old man tried to hand
deliver me and my father there, or did you forget?"

"I remember everything."
Her eyes, now greenish hazel, held a haunting sadness.

He looked away, hating that he
felt off balance. He needed to retain the anger that had driven him back here
where his life had so drastically changed. Seeing her pain shouldn't matter
after all this time, not after what her family had done to his.

"Good," he said.
"Then we're all on the same page as far as the past goes. I'll make you a
fair offer on the property. You owe me first shot at it."

Her eyes widened in outrage.
"I don't owe you or anyone else a thing! Everything I have I paid for a
long time ago."

"Is that how you sleep at
night?" He asked grimly. "We have a different recall of the
past."

"All the charges against you
and Grant were dropped."

"My father never got over it.
Lack of evidence doesn't clear a man's name. Sometimes a man's good name is all
he has. Martin was an unscrupulous bastard -- you know it had to be him who
falsified those breeding records. He turned on my father when he got caught.
Listen to your conscience, Annie . . . I know you have one."

"You don't know anything
about me."

"I can't believe you're
changed that much."

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Excerpt Echoes from the Past

Christie Jenkins once again counted
the bills in her pocket. Seventeen dollars. The gnawing hunger in her stomach
attested to the fact that she hadn’t had a decent meal in two days.

Shading her eyes against the
bright sun, she let her duffel bag slide to the cracked pavement and stared at
the royal blue sign beside the road, at the beginning of a long, curved
driveway.

Winding Creek Farms, Emerson,
Kentucky

The same address as her sister
Judith’s letter. Christie stuffed the crumpled bills back in her pocket and
looked up the curved driveway lined with dusky pink Dogwood trees. Various
barns and sheds sat at the top of the drive where gently rolling hills and
ribbons of white fence seemed to go on forever. Horses grazed lazily in fenced
paddocks and a short distance from the barns stood a house, the midnight blue
roof and cupolas lending it a fairytale look. Pure heaven. The sharp nag of
pain in Christie’s gut cut such thoughts short. Given the events of this year,
she was certain there was no heaven on earth.

As she reached for her bag Christie
suddenly noticed a movement in the tall grass beside the driveway. A child of
about eight or nine, creeping on her hands and knees, pushed her way through
the grass. Long blond ponytails fell across her pink shirt. When the child’s
feet cleared the grass, Christie smiled to see that red cowgirl boots peeked
beneath denim overalls.

"Here, Albert." The
child’s voice was coaxing. "Come on, now."

That’s when Christie noticed the
small gray kitten near the driveway’s edge. A sudden swipe of the little girl’s
hand as she tried to grab the kitten sent the animal darting out onto the dirt
driveway. With the unpredictability of cats, it just as quickly stopped in the
middle of the driveway and hunched its back upward. Cautious again, the child
slowly rose to her feet to follow the kitten.

Christie heard a new sound and
noticed a large hay truck pull away from one of the barns and start down the
driveway. The child didn’t seem aware of the vehicle as she continued to coax
the kitten toward her.

"Hey!" Christie waved
her arm at the child.

The little girl stopped abruptly
and looked toward Christie, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Get out of there!"
Christie called. The hay-laden truck sounded like it was slowing down, but it
didn’t stop moving toward them. The little girl finally looked at the truck,
staying almost frozen in the driveway. Afraid, Christie raced toward the little
girl.

#

Garrett McIntyre heard his
daughter’s scream and spun from the barn doorway. Hannah! He ran toward the
driveway, fear a tight fist gripping his throat when the sound of grinding
metal followed Hannah’s scream. The hay wagon that had just loaded up at the
barn veered off the driveway. He saw a dark-haired woman pull Hannah into the
grass. Garrett ran hard. The truck rolled past the woman and Hannah into the
small gully beside the driveway. It rocked to a drunken stop.

A trail of smoke. The little
sports car tilted nose down into the ditch. The unending blare of the horn.

When he reached Hannah, the woman
had her arms around his little girl. Hannah’s eyes were closed, her skin stark
white. Terror pulled his breath away and he dropped to his knees in the tall
grass. He couldn’t pass out.

Garrett met the woman’s dark eyes,
reflecting the terror he was sure was in his own. His gaze jerked immediately
to his child, then the truck sitting at an angle behind them.

The knot in his throat restricted
his voice, but he tried again, his first fear for his daughter. He touched her
cheek, then the dark blond hair that was so much like his own. "Hannah, are
you all right?"

She gave a quick nod as a tremor
shook her body.

"She was suddenly in front of
me, Boss!" Emmet blurted, dropping from the driver’s seat to the ground.
"I couldn’t stop. The brakes!" Emmet was barely out of his teens and
right now his face was drained of all color. Droplets of sweat beaded his
forehead as he rushed on, "This woman pulled Hannah out of the road - God
Almighty! I thought I was gonna hit ‘em both."

"Sit down, Emmet."
Garrett thought the young man looked ready to fall down.

Emmett pushed his lank dark hair
from his forehead and dropped to the grass. "Yeah. I feel sick." He
put his head against his up-drawn knees.

"Come here, Hannah."

The dark haired woman removed her
arms from around his daughter. Hannah leaned toward him, her deep blue eyes
awash with tears. "I’m sorry, Daddy. I know I’m not supposed to be down
here. I was trying to catch Albert. I didn’t want him lost."

Garrett sucked in a deep draft of
air. "Albert the cat? He’s long gone." The animal was nowhere in
sight.

"Oh! Albert is gone!"
Hannah launched herself into Garrett’s arms and began crying loudly. Garrett
quickly checked her legs and arms for injury, all too aware of how his hands
shook.

"You could have been hurt
bad." His jaw hurt from holding it clenched. "It’s a good thing
you’re so tough. Dammit, Hannah, I couldn’t take it if something happened to
you, too."

"I’m not hurt Daddy, but
Albert’s gone forever!" Hannah wailed, tears now streaming down her face.

Garrett felt the back of her head
carefully, making himself stay calm for her benefit. No blood, no bumps.
"Hannah, barn cats aren’t used to being carried around. Anyway, he takes
better care of himself than you seem to be doing lately. Come on, we’ll go to
the house and have Ruth check you and this young lady out." He stood and
held his hand out to the woman who’d saved his daughter. "Thank you."
Quickly, he added, "Are you all right?"