Forgotten Memories Read online

  He was definitely going to have to call his old friend tonight. If this history professor, beautiful as hell or not, got him hard, he needed to get laid.

  And soon.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea either,” the older man said. “William is right about the possible mess. Mr. Craine said he had close to three hundred in the herd.”

  She frowned.

  “And like I said,” Adam added quickly, “they go where they’re directed to go.”

  “It’s your call, Jen,” Jack said, stepping toward the door. “Let me know what you decide. I need to check to make sure my daughter and her friends are getting the list of repairs on the interior of the hotel finished.”

  Adam stood straighter, rigid with fatigue and disbelief. “All I want to do is move a few head of cattle past Winter Creek. Why is this so hard for you? I don’t believe you people at—”

  The phone’s sharp ring stopped the rest of his words. The history professor jerked forward and into him at the unexpected sound.

  “I have to take this call, Jen. Why don’t you go and show him the town?”

  Adam glanced over at the beauty, seeing the unease forming around her expressive jeweled eyes. “Sure, I’d like to see what you’ve done with the old town, Professor. I used to come here as a boy with my brother and friends.”

  Her now blank eyes settled on his face for a long moment before a diminutive grin eased her anxiety away. “I guess I could spare a few minutes. I have to get this—” she said, waving her hands down the length of her, “—back to Barb so I don’t mess it up too bad, but after that I can give you a quick tour.”

  “Lead away, Professor,” Adam said, sweeping his hat in a wide arch in front of her. Without thinking, he pressed his Stetson on his head and angled it low over his forehead. “But it’s not going to change my mind about herding my cows around the town.”

  The woman stared into his face for another long second. She frowned before turning toward her partner in the WCHA. “As soon as you hear from Mr. Thornton, let me know.”

  * * * *

  “Are you talking about Frank Thornton?”

  Jen narrowed her eyes at the lanky cowboy. Normally she wouldn’t care less if a man put his hat on before going outside, except here in Winter Creek. Men were more respectful of women in the 1800s. She glanced at his hat and frowned. He tore it from his head at her look and hit it against the side of the staircase rail.

  “You can put it back on, Mr. Craine. We’re outside now.”

  “My father always told me to take my hat off in front of pretty women.”

  “Only pretty ones?” Jen said before biting her upper lip. Why in the hell was she flirting with this man? “I would think a gentleman would take it off for all members of the fairer sex.”

  “The fairer sex,” he said with a wide grin warming up his face. “I think you’ve been hanging around this old town for too long.”

  Damn, but he was something to look at when he smiled like that. Oh, Barb, where are you when I need you?

  “Some of the women I’ve…” Adam twirled his hat in his hand, refusing to finish his statement. “So, tell me about Frank’s involvement with Winter Creek.”

  “You know Mr. Thornton?” she asked. “You just said his name was Frank, but we never mentioned his first name.”

  “Everyone around this area knows him,” Adam said.

  “He might be the sponsor for the livery.”

  “What?”

  Jen watched him draw his Stetson to the top of his head again before dropping it down to his lean thigh. “We’re hoping he’ll sponsor the livery stable. The WCHA foundation can’t afford to rebuild and run all of the different businesses in the town so we ask associate people if they’d be willing to help us out. My college sponsors the saloon, Jack’s company and other construction firms sponsor the sheriff’s office and jail. William’s old accounting firm is backing the bank building.”

  “And you’re hoping Frank will sponsor this stable?”

  Jen turned toward the saloon across the street and to the left of the bank. “Have you ever heard of a western town without a livery stable?”

  “Lady,” the cowboy drawled. “The way you’re dressed does put me in mind of an old western town, but…”

  His grin deepened as he leaned into her, punctuating the air with the hint of dirt and sweat mixed up with the earthly smell of horses. Not an unpleasant scent, Jen realized.

  “…it doesn’t make me think of horses and stables.”

  His teasing look burned into her, and she shook her head. Barb, oh, Barb, come on out. Jen needed her friend to come out here and remind her she’d made promises.

  She looked up at him, heat burning low in her stomach. A feeling she hadn’t allowed her body to experience since ending her disastrous affair with David. She bit into the side of her mouth, and watched the man’s eyes darken until they were almost black. She could clearly read his desire to bite the opposite side of her lip as his thought seemed to leap from his mind.

  She wasn’t interested.

  * * * *

  “Not in this lifetime, Mr. Craine.”

  What a liar, Adam thought.

  Her eyes widened, lips pouting downward into a deep frown. He could tell by the way she stared at his mouth that she wasn’t being truthful. His mama always said every thought showed clear through in a person’s expression.

  Maybe he wouldn’t have to call his special friend after all. Maybe this fine history professor would be willing to help him out.

  “I never lie,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Jen, Mr. Thornton decided to sponsor the livery stable.” The accountant stood at his opened bank door, on the platform of the outside staircase, staring daggers at Adam. “Did you hear me?”

  His eager tone seemed to draw Jen out of her strange mood, pulling her sharp gaze off Adam.

  “That’s great news, William.”

  “He’s coming tomorrow morning to check out the building.” Excitement leaped in the accountant’s voice. “He said he’ll pick up the grant money, but he doesn’t really need it. Maybe we’ve finally found a winner here.”

  “The Thorntons are well off,” Adam volunteered. “He runs a successful horse breeding ranch twenty or so miles from here. I’m surprised he’s even taking your money.”

  “Do you think he’ll honor his commitment to Winter Creek?” Jen raised her hand to his chest and let it drop quickly without a touch. “He’s the third person who said—”

  “He’s the fourth person,” William interrupted. “I hope he stays with it. The other three backed out after…those people at the hotel-spa offered them a better deal.”

  Deep anger sliced through Adam’s mind. “I’ve had a run-in with that…woman too.”

  “Adam?” Jen touched his callused hand, tracing her fingertip over his knuckles before jerking her hand away. Sweet warmth rushed through him, but he didn’t look at her. “How did you get your cows to the summer pasture anyway? I don’t remember any herd of cows passing by here this year.”

  “We herded them past that hotel.”

  “Then why don’t you herd them back the same way? Wouldn’t that be easier for you?”

  “I tried.” Adam looked at her now. Something on his face must have frightened her, because she took a step back. “But that…person…who runs the hotel refused to honor my grandfather’s contract.”

  “Your grandfather’s contract?

  “We used to own all that land up there,” he said, slamming his Stetson on his thigh. “A few years ago my grandfather sold a portion of the land to pay off some debts.”

  “And he added something to the contract that allowed him the right to move his cows?” William asked, stepping out to the top step of the stairs. “It figures they wouldn’t honor the agreement. They’ve been giving us a hard time too. They even offered me a major sum of money to sell them Winter Creek.”

  “Which we will never do,” Jen said with f
eeling. “This town was…is still…my grandfather’s dream.”

  Adam glanced at her flushed face, watching the front of her coat lift and fall as she dragged in one cleansing breath after another. The material opened wider and he took in her total picture. Pronounced tight breasts above a tiny waist that flared into delicious curves greeted his lust hungry eyes. And, as his gaze traveled down to the snowy ground, he imagined smooth legs leading up to creamy thighs.

  “Mr. Craine?”

  He forced his gaze off the professor. “I wish you would call me Adam.”

  The young man’s lips settled into a grin before he looked at Jen and turned back toward the door. “Jen, why don’t you show Adam the livery and corral?”

  “I don’t have time to play tour guide right now.”

  Her protest sounded weak to Adam. Yeah, he liked that. “Going back on your promises, Professor?”

  ”I’m not…”

  Yeah, he liked her fumbling attitude.

  ”It’ll only take you a few minutes, Jen,” the accountant said. “And you did promise.”

  Jen looked up at William, a little frown lowering the corners of her mouth. “I need to get this dress back to Barb before I pull out all her finely sewn stitches.”

  “Well, you can show Adam her dressmaker’s shop.”

  “I’d much rather see the saloon.” He shouldn’t tease this beautiful lady, yet he wanted to see how far he could push her. “I’d like to see where you spend all your free time, Professor.”

  “All right,” she agreed. “I’ll show you part of the town. But that’s all I’ll show you.”

  Damn, but this lady could read him like a sign on the side of a barn.

  “You understand, Mr. Craine,” she said under her breath. “I’ll show you the town only.”

  “What else is there?” he whispered back.

  “Well, then let’s go.”

  Yeah, we will see about that, sexy professor.

  Chapter 2

  He is one sexy cowboy. Jen glanced at Adam again, taking in the lean hard essence of the man standing so cocky beside her. His cowboy hat sat low on his forehead now, blocking the sight of his eyes from her vision. Faded jeans, a blue-striped flannel shirt, weathered boots, and a long dark coat completed a pleasing picture of a perfect image of an old-time cowboy. To Jen he fit this historical town.

  “So, pretty lady,” he said, with a voice that oozed honey. “Impress me.”

  Oh, yeah, if she were at a bar, looking to find a new body to warm her bed, he would definitely be on her short list.

  But this isn’t a bar, and she wasn’t interested in finding a new body.

  Where in the hell was Barb when she needed her?

  As she stepped away from the protection of the bank building, frosty air rushed against her and became trapped within the folds of her coat, spreading the material wide at her waist. She clutched at the flipping ends and pulled them tight together, but not before she glimpsed a heated look burning from the cowboy’s downward angled head.

  “You look like you belong in a saloon,” he drawled easily. “That’s a…sweet looking dress.”

  “One of Barb’s newer creations,” she said, grinning at both his intense look and slightly telling comment. She moved into the street, toward Barb’s shop. “Would you like to see it?”

  His eyes widened. “I would love to someday, ma’am, but not today.”

  “I was talking about the dressmaker’s shop, Mr. Craine.”

  “I said my name is Adam.”

  “And I’m Professor Ferguson.”

  A frown lined across his mouth for only a second. He nodded before stepping off the wooden sidewalk. “Is that the saloon?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t say another word. They moved slowly across the street, and she sighed in relief at the reprieve from his flirty attitude. She trembled when she spied the large black horse tied to a post directly in front of the batwing doors of her saloon.

  Where in the hell did that animal come from?

  “So why do you own a saloon?” he asked, touching the sleeve of her coat lightly. “Teaching and bartending don’t seem like a very good mix.”

  “It was either the saloon or the livery stable,” she said, sidestepping the large animal. “And I hate horses. And speaking of horses, where did he come from anyway? That horse wasn’t here when I left this building earlier.”

  He shook his head. “And you live in Montana.”

  “Not every person who lives in Montana likes horses.”

  “Everyone I know does,” he said, reaching up to brush his hand down the side of the enormous horse’s head. “Don’t shy away from him, Jen. He won’t hurt you.”

  She froze five feet behind the man and his powerful horse. How could she have missed seeing this…beast when she left the building?

  “Jen.” The cowboy laughed. “You’re going to hurt his feelings.”

  “He’s a horse.”

  “Yes.”

  She stepped back another few inches. The horse whinnied loud, shaking his head and flipping the rough end of his coarse tail against his thick sides.

  “I didn’t notice him when I came out of the saloon. How could I not have seen him?”

  Adam grabbed at the horse’s tough mane and pulled his elongated head down to his forehead.

  Jen backed up even further. “He’ll hurt you.”

  “Don’t listen to the pretty professor, Dark Day,” he whispered softly into the animal’s passive face. “She doesn’t mean what she’s saying.”

  “Like hell I don’t.”

  A grin stretched wide across Adam’s cocky mouth, sparks of fire brightening the brown color of his eyes to a sweet caramel shade.

  Yeah, she may not like horses, but cowboys… Her heart raced in her chest, breath burning hot and heavy in her lungs. If she’d met this guy in the bar instead of David that night, maybe things would be different.

  “Hey, who’s the cowboy?” Barb’s greeting brought Jen’s mind back to her real world, a world where she’d made a promise not to do what she’d just been daydreaming about doing. A world where she’d promised not to pick up a guy like him in a bar and wear him out in her bed.

  “It’s about time you got back here with my dress.” A gush of wind caught at Barb’s jacket as she wandered out of the saloon and stopped beside Jen. “I was about to go back to my shop.”

  Jen watched her friend shiver slightly. Barb looked at the powerful animal before staring hard at the lean cowboy.

  “Some guy just tied that…thing to the rail a few minutes ago. Does he belong to you?” Barb asked.

  “Which one, the guy or the horse?” Adam asked, a hint of laughter singing in his voice.

  His gaze skipped over Barb’s smaller frame to burn into Jen’s eyes, causing a hint of discomfort to form in her mind. His look widened in lustful appreciation as her coat slid open again. She didn’t pull it shut this time. She liked the way he was lusting after her now. She shouldn’t like it, but she did.

  “Actually they both belong to me in a way. Wyatt works for me at the ranch, and Dark Day is my best stallion.”

  “His name is Wyatt?” Interest shined in Barb’s eyes and sounded clear in her tone for only a moment before she shook her head and clutched Jen’s upper arm. “You better tell him to tie it up somewhere else next time. Neither one of us likes horses.”

  Adam shook his head.

  Jen sidestepped wide around the animal, frowning at his smirking demeanor. “If you want to get my permission to move your cows past Winter Creek, you’d better wipe that smile off your face.”

  She walked into the saloon and turned at the side bar, enjoying his unhappy frown and blank look of disbelief. That got his attention, she thought.

  “I need to drive those cows to the winter pasture soon.”

  “How soon?” Allowing her coat to fall off her shoulders easily, she didn’t miss the loud inhaled breath echoing from him. Damn, but his man was good for her batter
ed ego. “And how many cows do you have up in the hills?”

  She twisted around, a grin stretching her face, and froze.

  The image formed slowly in the smoke-like air, lifting up above the lean cowboy and her friend before settling near the right side of the suddenly silent man. She watched him jerk to his right. Did he feel the image of the person forming in the cloud? Or is it a man? She wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Adam glanced toward Barb before pulling his hat from his head and glaring to his right side again.

  “Jen,” Barb said, “what’s wrong with you?”

  The image twisted and turned, swirling around the side of the lean man without touching him, changing into the vague shape of a slender, medium-sized male.

  “What’s wrong?” Adam spoke gently. “You’re white.”

  “Jen?”

  “Professor?” Adam asked again, louder this time. He started to reach for her, but dropped his hand back to his side. “Are you cold?”

  Barb jerked her head up to stare at him. “You’re cold?”

  Familiar iciness spread slowly into her body now, a familiar weakness. A soft, joy-filled voice whispered, “He’s here.”

  The man-like image raised his hands toward her, toward the presence she sensed standing beside her, before he disappeared in a slow, dissipating field of fog. The chilly October air replaced the familiar bone deep iciness, taking with it the strange feelings. Warmth flowed back into her system, strength back into her trembling legs. She fell against the bar, pressing one of the pins keeping the tight dress together, into her side.

  “Ouch.” Jumping up, she touched her waist, saying, “I think I need to get out of this dress.”

  “Are you all right?” Her friend’s hand cradled her shoulder, checking the side of her dress for the offending pin. “Maybe you better before you pull out all of those pins.”

  Jen smiled. “I will as soon as I finish my discussion with Mr. Craine.”

  “Adam,” he said sharply. “I told you to call me Adam.”

  “With Adam,” she said softly, glancing toward the doorway. Clear air flowed through the batwing door. No smoky fog, no vague images forming into the shape of a male, no unearthly coldness, no whispering voice speaking nonsense words.