picked up a stack of CDs and shuffled through them like they were a deck of cards. 'Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Vilvaldi, Kid Rock, Mellencamp, Bach, matchbox 20.' She looked up at me and raised her eyebrows. 'You've got quite an eclectic collection here, don't you?'
I shrugged and told her about my sister. 'With her room next to mine, it was either get used to it and like it, or live day after day in misery.'
She smiled, then walked to the end of the loft and looked out the north windows at the tree-lined drive. When she turned around, it seemed to me that she had noticed my bed for the first time. She glanced from it to me and walked purposefully back into the kitchen. The long-haired cat squeezed out from under my bed and trotted over to her.
'Oh, what a beautiful cat.' Rachel crouched down, and the cat rubbed against her legs.
I didn't look at the cat, however, having a definitely more interesting view elsewhere. Rachel's skirt was very short.
I cleared my throat. 'You've made a life-long friend.'
'I've never seen a cat that's so friendly.' Rachel laughed when the cat flipped onto its back. 'What a wiggle worm. What's her name?'
'Far as I know, she doesn't have one.'
Rachel was on her hands and knees, and her hair had fallen forward over her shoulders. 'How could you have a cat and not name it?'
'But it's not my cat.'
Rachel shook her head and rose to her feet. She put her hands on her hips. 'Don't you ever pet her?'
'Of course I do. That cat has an insatiable desire for affection.' Not unlike my own, I thought.
We spent the afternoon paddling around Wilde Lake. We checked out every cove, risked getting stuck in the shallows, and went to dinner when the sun dipped below the horizon.
The food was delicious, but I couldn't, for the life of me, remember eating it. Rachel had candlelight in her eyes, and her hair glowed with a warmth and vibrancy of its own. We talked about everything and nothing while light seeped from the sky, the glass turning black with the night.
When the crowd thinned, and one of the waiters started pushing a sweeper across the carpet in the next room, I said, 'Are you ready to go?'
She nodded.
Outside, it was chillier than expected, and neither one of us had dressed for it. Ignoring the cold, we followed the path as it hugged the shoreline. Where the woods thinned, we paused and looked across the lake. A half moon hung low in the east and reflected off the water's surface. A sure, straight path, cutting across the lake.
'How beautiful,' Rachel murmured.
I took her in my arms and kissed her, not a drop-down-and-do-it kiss, but a gentle one that she returned in kind. When I felt her shiver, I wrapped my jacket around her, and she rested her head on my chest and slid her arms around my waist.
Above our heads, a gentle breeze moved through the trees. It would have been peaceful except for the primitive feelings brought to life by her body's closeness to mine. I felt the quiet rhythm of her breathing against me; yet, I was having a hard time controlling mine. I smoothed my fingers through her silky hair and breathed deeply. Her scent was barely perceptible on the shifting air currents. She looked up, and I kissed her again.
After a while, we headed back to Foxdale. Ignoring the fact that the roads weren't all the great, I put my arm around her shoulders, which I probably shouldn't have done. All I could think about was sliding my hand into her blouse. After maneuvering the truck out of a particularly sharp curve, I decided I'd better keep my eyes on the road and my hands on the steering wheel.
I clamped both hands on the wheel and glanced down. Shouldn't have done that, either. If I lowered my hand just a few inches, I would be touching her legs. And with that short skirt, one thought led to another, and I was right back where I'd started.
I was almost relieved when I turned into the lane at Foxdale.
I clenched my teeth. 'Damn it.'
Rachel shifted in her seat. 'What's wrong?'
'The gates aren't locked.' I glanced at my watch. It was almost midnight.
'Is that a problem?'
'I hope not. I forgot to ask Karen to lock up, but she should have thought about it. Everything else better be locked up, or-'
'Maybe she didn't know what to do because my car was still in the lot.'
I glanced at her. Pale light from the dash shone on her face. 'Yeah,' I said softly. 'You're probably right.'
I pulled in alongside the Camry and scanned the grounds before I got out. Rachel swiveled around on the seat to face me. When she slid down to the ground, quite a distance for her, the skirt hung up on the vinyl bench for a brief second. Damn, she looked good. I pulled her to me and gave her an open-mouthed kiss. She felt perfect in my arms, and I thought I had better send her on her way before I wasn't as controlled.
Rachel unlocked her car. As she slid behind the wheel, I checked the back seat. We said goodbye, then I watched her drive away until her taillights disappeared around the bend.
I walked through every building, checked every corner, every horse, jiggled every doorknob, and felt bone tired by the time I climbed into the Chevy. As I slotted the key in the ignition, light flashed across the windshield. I swiveled around as a car headed down the lane.
A cop car. The cruiser angled across the parking lot and pulled in behind my truck. The driver lit up the interior of my truck with s spotlight and approached the truck with an interesting blend of confidence and caution. I kept my hands on the steering wheel.
He shone his flashlight in my face, then lowered the beam. 'What are you doing here this late?'
I recognized him from Monday. Officer Dorsett, tall, lean, black, with a thin mustache and a gold hoop in his left ear that didn't quite go with the otherwise military turnout. 'I was on a date,' I said. 'We met here. I dropped her off a little while ago, then checked the barns.'
His radio crackled. 'One-twenty-three, status?'
Dorsett keyed his mike. 'One-twenty-three. Ten-six. No need to check further.'
'Clear.'
Dorsett switched off his flashlight. 'You leaving?'
'Yep.'
He followed me off the parking lot, waited for me to lock the gate, then followed me part of the way home. I stayed within the speed limit.
By late Friday afternoon, new locks had been installed wherever possible. I flipped through a ridiculously large bunch of keys, thanks to Dave's brilliant idea that multiple keys would confuse the enemy, and tried to remember which color tape went with the new feed room lock. Pink? No, yellow. I unlocked the door and pulled the feed cart away from the wall. I had organized the supplements and medications and was turning the cart around when I heard Marty yell my name.
I ran outside and found him standing between the barns, his back toward me. 'Marty. What's wrong?'
He spun around. 'I'm surprised you didn't hear.'
'Hear what?'
'Whitcombe was riding that gelding of his. The plain bay…'
'Rennie's Luck?'
'Yeah, that's the one. Well, Lucky wasn't so lucky.'
'What do you mean?'
'You know how he's been stoppin' at the jumps lately?'
I waited for him to get on with it.
'Well, Whitcombe took a whip to him and cut 'im up pretty-'
'Where is he?'
'Whitcombe?'
'No,' I said. 'The horse.'
