Wish Upon a Cowboy (29 page)

"She might have done some growin' up in time," Elias said, his tone filled with compassion. "But she didn't have the chance. That was fate, boy. Pure and simple. Nothin' to do with you. You tried to make her happy," he added. "Take comfort in that."

"It wasn't enough." The taste of old failures seemed bitter on his tongue.

"No, it wasn't," Elias agreed. "It never would have been, with her. " Releasing his grip on Jonas's arm, he gave the younger man a hard slap on the back. "But you've got another chance now. With a woman grown, who loves you, boy."

Jonas's eyes closed tightly. She did love him. More than anyone else ever had. It was in her touch. Her kiss.

Her smile. And everything inside him wanted to grab what she offered and hold it close.

"Don't lose that," Elias murmured. "It's too rare and precious."

Jonas looked at him and noted the faraway gleam in his eyes. "You still think about her—the woman you loved—don't you?"

Nodding, Elias stared dead into his eyes. "Every damned day, boy. Don't you live like I have. Alone. Missing the one woman who could have made you whole."

Hannah did make him whole, he thought. She filled empty places inside him he hadn't even known were there.

"But," he said, more to himself than to Elias, "what if it all goes to hell again?"

"Don't turn your back on love because of fears of the past." His voice lowering, Elias added, "We've both hidden from the past too long, Mac. It's time we let it go."

Maybe, Jonas thought as another chill crawled through him. And maybe the past couldn't be buried without a fight.

*  *  *

Massachusetts

Blake Wolcott boarded the night train west, carrying only one bag. He didn't need much baggage, after all. It would be a short trip.

With Ed Thistlewaite's telegram tucked into his suit coat pocket, Blake smiled and took a seat at the front of the car. In a few short days, he would be reunited with Hannah.

With his destiny.

*  *  *

The dream came again and Jonas woke up in a cold sweat, air heaving in and out of his lungs.

He sat up, stared around his darkened bedroom, and tried to tell himself that it was only a nightmare. But it was more than that. Much more, and he knew it.

A chant danced through his mind, repeating itself over and over.

He's coming, he's coming, he's coming…

Jonas couldn't quiet the voices any more than he could ease the chill that seemed to have settled around his heart. Then Elias's words ran through his mind again and he couldn't help wondering if his destiny was to always lose the women he loved.

Chapter Seventeen

Elias looked at the two of them sitting on opposite sides of the breakfast table and told himself that stubborn wasn't always a good quality.

He shot a look at Jonas, whose eyes were shadowed by a lack of sleep and haunted by old memories and new fears. Hannah's eyes were clear; it was her expression that told her tale. Staring at Jonas, she looked like a soul peering through the Pearly Gates at Paradise, knowing she hadn't a prayer of stepping inside.

His fingers tightened on the handle of his coffee cup. Ordinarily, he wasn't the man to stick his nose in where it might get punched, but damned if these two didn't need a good push.

"Y' know," he started, and both of them turned to look at him. "I'm not a nosy man."

Jonas snorted.

Hannah scowled at him before turning to the older man again. "Go on, Elias."

He frowned at Jonas and said, "I intend to, missy. Now, the way I see it is –"

"I already know how you see it," Jonas interrupted and pushed up and away from the table.

"Well, I don't," Hannah snapped and stood up, too. "I'd like to hear what he has to say."

"Thank you, missy."

"This has nothing to do with him," Jonas told her.

"Of course it has," she said, leaning toward him. "He's been a father to you your whole life. Who has a better right to offer an opinion?"

Elias sat back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and watched the fun. For the moment, they'd forgotten all about him. They were too caught up in each other. As it should be. His gaze shifting from one to the other of them, he could have sworn he saw sparks fly.

"This is between you and me, Hannah," Jonas said flatly, his gaze spearing into hers. "We decide. Nobody else."

"Oh!" She laid one hand on her breast and widened her eyes innocently.

Elias had seen that look from females before and if he'd had a chance, he'd have shouted a warning to the boy.

But she rolled right on. "Then you're saying I actually have a say in what happens between us?"

"I couldn't stop you if I tried," Jonas muttered. He'd never known a more hardheaded woman. It didn't seem to matter how many times he told her he wouldn't marry her, she didn't quit.

And a part of him loved her for it.

"No, you couldn't," she agreed and stepped around the edge of the table to stand in front of him. Stabbing the tip of her index finger against his chest, she went on. "And you've been deaf to me too long."

"If I'm deaf to you, how come all I do is spend my time arguing with you?" he demanded, looming over her, hoping for intimidation.

It didn't work.

"I don't know why you're arguing with me, Mackenzie," she said, leaning in and going up on her toes. "I tell you I love you and you act as though I'd stolen one of your precious cows."

Elias chuckled and they both glared at him briefly.

"What'd you expect me to do?" he demanded.

"I expected you to say you love me, too."

"What good would that do?" he asked, throwing his hands wide before grabbing hold of her upper arms and dragging her up onto her toes. Her face just inches from his, he carefully schooled his features, not wanting her to know what he was feeling. Just holding her like this sent a bolt of heat lightning right through the core of him. What he'd found with her was unlike anything he'd ever known.

He looked down into her flushed cheeks and over bright green eyes and knew in that moment that he did love her. Loved her more than he'd thought possible. Her passion, her joy, her damned humming. Everything about her, he loved. Yet the knowledge solved nothing. There was still a danger to her. A warlock to face. And old fears to conquer.

"Love doesn't solve a problem," he said tightly. "It just makes new ones. Bigger ones," he released her before he could wrap his arms around her and hold on for dear life. "Ours are big enough as it is."

"So we ignore what we found together?"

"We try," he said simply, even though he knew it would be like trying to ignore the beating of his own heart.

Her eyes flashed green fire that should have singed him. "So you were lying."

"What?" She changed subjects so fast, it could make a man's head swim.

"When you said I had a say in what happens between us, you were lying."

"Of course you have a say." Hell, hadn't he spent most of the last few weeks listening to her say?

"Oh, thank you very much," she ground out from between gritted teeth. "I get an opinion, but only yours counts."

Couldn't she see how hard this was?

"Damn it Hannah –"

A sound from outside caught Elias's attention and he half turned in his seat to look out the window. Frowning, he said. "Someone's coming."

He's coming, he's coming, he's coming… The chant repeated itself in Jonas's mind and he reacted quickly. Pushing Hannah back, he stalked to the window in two quick strides. Staring through the glass, he watched a buckboard roll into the ranch yard and relief poured through him.

"It's all right," he pulled in a deep, steadying breath. "It's a woman."

A woman. Elias's throat closed up as he stared at the tall, elegant creature being helped from the bench seat by one of the ranch hands. He felt his jaw drop as he looked her over from the top of her tiny blue hat to the tips of her shining black shoes.

"Sweet Jesus," he whispered around the knot in his throat. "Thank you."

"What's wrong with you?" Jonas demanded, and his voice sounded like an annoying buzz in Elias's ears.

"Who is it?" Hannah asked and pushed both men aside for a look. Then a moment later, she squealed with delight, shouted, "Eudora!" and raced from the room.

"Eudora." Elias repeated the one word quietly, almost reverently.

"Her aunt," Jonas said and focused his gaze on the woman. She didn't look like a witch, he thought, but then, neither did he. Or like Hannah.

As her name flashed across his mind, she hurried through the main room, darted out the front door, ran across the yard, and hurled herself at the older woman. Laughing and clutching at her hat, Eudora returned her niece's hug, then held her at arm's length to look her over.

Another witch, Jonas thought with an inward groan. He'd gone twenty-five years without knowing a damn thing about witches and magic and whatnot, and in the space of a few weeks, he was hip deep in them. Hell, if he wasn't careful, soon the place would be crawling with them.

From a distance, he couldn't hear what was being said, but he could feel Hannah's pleasure rippling through him like a rising tide, and in spite of himself, he smiled. Gaze shifting from one to the other of them, Jonas told himself the women were as different as night and day. If he hadn't known better, he wouldn't have guessed they were related.

As he watched, though, Jonas began to see that something about the scene was… wrong, somehow. He couldn't put his finger on it. He was still too new to this whole witchcraft business. But this was an instinctive knowledge.

Jonas sucked in a gulp of air and kept studying the women, even as Elias stood up and took up a position alongside him.

"Her aunt, you said," the older man muttered thickly. "Hannah's aunt."

"Yeah." Jonas spared him a quick look. The man's eyes were wide and startled.

"Then she's a witch?"

"Isn't everybody?" Jonas quipped.

"That's why," Elias whispered to himself, remembering the months he'd spent searching for her. If she was a witch, then her parents were, too—and no doubt her father had done something to keep Elias from finding his daughter. "That's why I never found her."

"Found who?" Staring at the man, Jonas turned with him to face the doorway where the women would soon appear. A moment later, he spoke again, confused awe ringing in his tone. "You mean… Hannah's aunt Eudora is the woman you…"

Elias hardly heard him. With his blood thundering in his ears, his mind filled with images past and present of the woman who would, in another moment, be walking back into his life. Would she know him? Did she remember, as he did, every minute of the time they'd had together? Did she ever think of him and wonder?

Every breath cost him. His heartbeat thudded painfully in his chest. His eyes stung with a sheen of tears that were as unexpected as they were unstoppable.

So many years, he thought. Hundreds, thousands of nights, he'd dreamed of this moment. Wished for it. Prayed for it.

Hands trembling, mouth dry, he waited, as he'd waited the last thirty years.

The sound of her voice reached him first. It was as familiar to him as his own. She laughed at something Hannah said and he felt himself smiling, too.

And then she was there. In front of him. Beautiful. More beautiful than he'd remembered. He didn't see the silver in her hair or the fine lines stretching out from the corners of her eyes. Instead, he saw the pretty, sparkling young woman she had been and he knew that as long as he lived, he would always see her thus.

She stepped into the room and the shine in her blue eyes warmed him as thoroughly as it had when he was young.

Elias pulled in a long, shaky breath and realized that thirty years had just dropped from his shoulders. In an instant, he'd become the young cowboy who'd spotted a fine lady on a ship's deck one morning.

He cleared his throat. "Eudora."

She froze.

He spoke her name again, luxuriating in the sound of it on his lips. It had been so long.

She knew.

She remembered.

He saw it.

She turned toward him slowly, as if no more able to believe this was happening than he. He watched her as she lifted one hand to cover her mouth, open now in surprise. Her eyes… those eyes that had haunted him for a life time… glimmered with a sudden sheen of tears. Her breath caught and a soft, tremulous sigh escaped her.

"Elias?"

He nodded.

"Oh, my…"

Somehow, he moved. His unsteady legs took him across the floor. His gaze locking with hers, he drank his fill of her and knew he would never tire of staring into those eyes. The other two people in the room had ceased to exist. It was only he and Eudora now. As it was always meant to be.

"My God," she whispered brokenly as he came closer, and even the tone of her voice was like music to a man long deaf to sound. "It is you." Her breath left her in a rush. She tilted her head to one side and a slow, sad smile curved her lovely mouth. "Elias. My Elias."

His own breath hitched in his chest. The love was still there. As it had been so long ago. As it would always be between them. "Always yours," he told her and opened his arms to her.

She came to him, as she had then, fitting herself into his embrace, cuddling close, resting her head on his chest where she could listen to his heartbeat. And when his arms closed around her, he felt, for the first time in too many years, a whole man. Complete.

"I didn't know," she muttered quietly. "I didn't know you were still with the Mackenzie."

"Still?" he asked, pulling his head back to look down at her. His fingers trailed along the edge of her jaw like a man retracing familiar steps. "Then it was you who sent his parents to me?"

She looked up at him and nodded. "I knew they could trust you."

"Why didn't you come to me then?" he asked, his heart breaking for the lost years.

Eudora reached up, cupped his cheek in the palm of one hand, and smoothed her thumb across his lined face. "I didn't know if you would still want me." She inhaled deeply and let it go again on a sigh. "It had been five years since my father sent me away."