Under the Midnight Stars (5 page)

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Authors: Shawna Gautier

BOOK: Under the Midnight Stars
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He stepped off the porch and trudged his way through the tall grass to the creek.

THREE

Brielle hopped into Jack’s car. “It’s about time you showed up.”

Jack stared at her, squinting his eyes in irritation. “How in the hell was I supposed to know you’d get off early? And besides, it’s only been five minutes since you called.” He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the ranch.

“It sure is muggy out today.” She turned the knob of the air conditioner as far as it could go to quickly dissolve the stickiness of sweat that enveloped her. As soon as she was comfortable she settled back in her seat and stared out of the window at the green countryside. She thought of Colt, disappointed that she wouldn’t be seeing him for lunch. She didn’t know why not seeing him made her feel that way. All she knew was that he was handsome, easy to talk to, and made work more bearable.

She sighed, figuring if she couldn’t see him, she’d at least talk about him. “So did you sell your truck?”

“Sure did.” Jack grinned. “For twelve hundred more than I was asking.”

“What?” she replied in disbelief. “Why would he do that?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t really care. I’m just glad he did it is all.”

Now she wasn’t so sure she liked a man of his nature. Arrogance was unattractive to her, the whole reason she’d turned Billy away until now. But she would prove to Billy once and for all how mismatched they were … she hoped.

She sighed again, disappointed that the tall handsome new man in town threw his money around like he hadn’t a care in the world — like he owned it. “That’s just not right, someone just handing out two thousand dollars for a truck that was only being sold for eight hundred.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “It was only worth eight hundred when it wasn’t running. He made a few adjustments and she fired right up.”

“But he had to fix it himself,” she pointed out, her opinion of him set in stone.

“It was a fuel filter, Gab. And some spark plugs.” He grew irritated. “What’s the matter with you anyway? Why do you even care?”

She became nervous, hoping her interest in Colton Tayler didn’t show. Though they bickered often, she and Jack were as close as twins, telling each other almost everything. Usually, when she had an interest in a man, she brazenly talked about him, her excitement shining through. But Colt was different for some reason, and she couldn’t put a finger on it. All she knew is that she wanted to keep her true feelings about him a secret — whatever those true feelings might be.

“I don’t!” she snapped defensively.

“I don’t,”
he mocked.

“Shut up or I’ll shut you up! And don’t call me Gab, or Gabby, or Gabrielle!”

“Then what in the hell do you suppose I call you, besides the obvious?”

Brielle’s eyes widened before narrowing into angry slits. She smacked him in the shoulder. “Just wait ’til we get home, little brother!”

He smirked in satisfaction, ignoring the sting.

In the distance she saw a truck similar to Jack’s parked in the driveway of the abandoned neighboring farm. “Is that your truck?”

Jack slowed. “It was.”

“Why is Colt here?” she whispered aloud. “Stop!”

Jack pulled over. “Why?”

“Do you think he’s moving back here?” She warily eyed the overgrown wreck of a farm — the very farm that her father had been trying to unsuccessfully purchase from Zeke over the years. It didn’t matter how generous the offer, Zeke had always had the same reply, “Sorry, Roger. Come hell or high water, I ain’t sellin’.”

“Beats me. Can we go now?” Jack sighed impatiently. His cell phone rang. He pulled it from the cup holder in the center console and answered it.

“Hmmm.” Brielle wanted to see what Colt was up to now more than ever, wondering what explanation she could give as to why she was there. She smiled and counted exactly thirteen ones and thirty-seven cents from her apron.

“All right, we have to go.” Jack snapped his phone shut. “I just got called into the station.”

“Fine.” She opened the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna say hi to Colt. Careful out there.” She climbed out and shut the car door. The humidity blasted her senses, forcing her lungs to work harder for each breath. The heavy moisture quickly dampened her skin.

Jack lowered the passenger window. “Are you sure?”

Leaning in the window, she reassured him. “Yes, I’m sure. Don’t worry. Colt’s a good guy.”

After hesitating briefly, Jack sighed. “You’re right. He is a good guy. I’ll see ya later.”

“See ya, Jack.” She turned and carefully made her way along the thick brushy path to the old run-down farmhouse, shooing away the insects stirring about her face, praying she didn’t step on a rattlesnake. She was glad to have finally reached the front porch, but frowned in dismay at its fragile appearance. She wondered if she’d fall right through it. Carefully, she tested its sturdiness with her white sneaker. Relieved it was sound, she ascended the stairs.

The front door was slightly agape. She pushed it open, listening as it creaked loudly. Without stepping in, she peered into the creepy abandoned home. It had always given her chills driving past it, especially late at night. Because of its neglected appearance, she’d always assumed it was haunted — that the previous owners had just up and fled their doom one day.

“Colt?” she called warily, afraid to enter.

When he didn’t respond she turned and scanned the waist-high jungle for any movement. Seeing no sign of him anywhere, she took a deep breath and stepped into the house.

“Colt?” she called more loudly, but was still met with an overwhelming eerie silence.

She began to worry, wondering if the house were either haunted or a makeshift abode for some deranged maniac. Maybe Colt was lying somewhere hurt or unconscious … or
dead.
She gulped fearfully, eyeing the trashed living space, glad to see no apparent signs of any blood or body parts.

Standing at the base of the stairs, she eyed the upstairs hallway. Slowly she ascended the stairs. To her immediate right was a bathroom — a foul-smelling one at that. Flies were buzzing around the toilet. Holding her breath, resisting the urge to gag, she quickly shut the door.

To her left was a large bedroom cluttered with more debris. She continued down the hallway to another door to the right, a larger bedroom, just as littered as the previous. Seeing no signs of blood or bodies, and more importantly, seeing no maniac, she made her way to the door at the end of the hall. Unfortunately, that door was closed. Taking a deep steady breath, with a trembling hand, she reached out and turned the knob.

The door creaked open slowly. She kicked it the remainder of the way open and peered inside. Its appearance matched the others, including being void of Colt.

Anxiously she made her way back downstairs. She glanced down the hallway and noticed the open back door.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself, “he must be out back.”

She walked down the hallway, toward the kitchen. As she passed the basement door she heard a loud thump.

She screamed and jumped back against the wall, staring in horror at the door. Then she giggled to herself, feeling silly for being so scared. After all, it was just an old farmhouse.

“Colt, is that you?” She opened the door, but her smile immediately faded as she stared into the looming blackness of the silent basement. Her heart began to race with fear. “Colt?”

Suddenly, out of the darkness, a black shape came barreling straight for her.

She screamed and instinctively guarded her face with her hands, falling backward, her back against the wall.

A large crow squawked frantically above her before it flew away and out the front door.

Colt’s heart stopped when he heard a woman’s shrill screams coming from within his house. As fast as his legs could carry him, he bolted through the thick brush, up the back steps, into the kitchen. He saw Brielle sitting on the floor.

“Brielle?” His breathing was ragged as he rushed to her side.

“Colt?” She looked relieved to see him as she placed a shaky hand over her heart.

“Are you all right? What happened?” He grabbed her arm and helped her to her feet. Sweat from his panicked sprint beaded his brow.

“Nothing, it was just a stupid crow,” she scoffed.

Colt grinned, partly because she was okay, and partly because he was glad to see her.

“You think it’s funny?” She glared at him as she dusted off the back of her jeans and straightened her white work blouse.

He looked down and tensed when he noticed the top button on her blouse had worked its way undone, exposing her upper bosom. The sensual vision of her cleavage and softly mounded breasts partially aroused him.

Averting his eyes quickly, he met her angry gaze. “No. I wouldn’t make fun of you, Brielle. I’m just glad to see you is all. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Though she still appeared flustered, she exhaled and her tension lessened. “Yes, I’m fine. So what are you doing here anyway?”

Colt was surprised by her bold question. He chuckled slightly. “I think I should be asking
you
that question.”

She looked away, her cheeks a rosy pink. “Oh, right. Um, oh…” She reached into her pocket and handed him a crumpled ball of money.

“What’s this?” He stared at the wad of money lying in his palm.

“Your change.” She smiled smugly. “You forgot it, along with a proper good-bye.”

As he shoved the money into the front pocket of his jeans, he grinned sheepishly. “Right. I guess I was just anxious to buy the truck.”

The heat from the early summer day was quickly warming the inside of the house. Colt took off the long-sleeved shirt he wore over his T-shirt and hung it on the knob of the basement door. When he turned back to Brielle, he took pleasure watching as her eyes roamed over his biceps and settled on his chest, before she looked him in the eyes again.

He smirked. It appeared that he had the same effect on her as she did him. “Do you see something to your liking?”

Eyes wide, she immediately shook her head. “No! I was just … just … wondering what color blue that was?” Her cheeks flushed pink.

Colt smiled a half-smile, admiring her modesty. He was used to women who weren’t afraid to show their lust for him. They would’ve simply replied, “Yes.” But not Brielle. She was different. The kind of woman he respected.

He had a sudden urge to take her into his arms and kiss her. Shaking the thought away, he looked down at his shirt and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know? Navy?”

She nodded agreeably. “Well, that’s all I wanted. I’ll see you later … sometime … at the diner,” she blurted awkwardly. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and quickly headed out the front door.

What? She’s just leaving?
Colt chuckled under his breath, amused at the way she handled being caught gawking. He quietly followed her.

Once she was safely outside, Brielle took in a deep calming breath. She felt uncomfortable at how taken aback she was by Colt, and even more so that she had no control over it. For some reason his touch had sparked an inner desire she’d never felt before. And seeing nearly every contour of his bulging muscles through his shirt heightened those desires. To make matters worse, he’d caught her ogling his chest.

Way to make a fool of yourself.
She hurried down the porch steps. She came to an abrupt stop when she focused in on the tall field of green. Moving only her eyes, she followed the narrow break in the grass and weeds that marked the path to the main road. But her trek wouldn’t end there. It’d continue about a mile down the road through the insect-filled mugginess of the hot Texas summer.

“Need a ride?”

Brielle jumped, not expecting Colt to be standing behind her. Pushing her humiliation aside, she turned to face him.

“I could use a ride.” She smiled lightly.

Colt grinned and headed down the steps. “I didn’t expect you to walk home in this heat. Follow me,” he said as he passed her and entered the trail.

She tromped closely behind him through the thick weeds, wondering what she could say to redeem herself. Nothing came to mind that would ease the embarrassment. She decided to swallow her pride and accept the fact that her nerves had gotten the best of her again, and made her look like a dimwit …
again.
The only thing she could do now was change the subject.

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