Wild West Hauntings, page 9
A deep sigh escaped him as his head lolled back.
Rachel had no idea if her 1800’s counterpart ever gave Dalton a blowjob before, but she was more than ready to please her man. In a stealthy move, she yanked his pants down to his ankles and clasped his ass. She encompassed his cock with her mouth, drew long and firm on it.
“Hey!” He jerked but didn’t remove himself from her. “What is this? Where did you learn French talents?”
French talents? Suckling and caressing him with her tongue, she ran through her stores of knowledge from all her classes, landing on a literature and history course she took during her undergrad studies. Oral sex was no stranger to the erotic literature of the 1800’s, and outside of the fictional world when men wanted to receive fellatio, they sometimes had to seek out the services of prostitutes using buzz words such as French, French-house and French talent.
But she couldn’t explain she knew how to do what she was doing to Dalton with references to past relationships and college. How would a lady of his time answer? She released him, thinking fast. “I overheard some ladies one day speaking of certain matters and … and I—”She tapped into Rae’s memory to help come up with a story. There was an older woman, Clara. The lady was a friend of the ranch, and all the men called her Auntie. Auntie worked in a saloon and that’s where the men had met and befriended her. Knowing where the woman worked and what she did for a living, Rae couldn’t bring herself to use the nickname. Decorum wouldn’t allow it. She realized, though, that Dalton would buy the fib. “I asked Miz Clara if she knew what they spoke of. She appeased my curiosity quite adequately.” She glanced up at him. A smile lit his face. “I guess you don’t mind?” she inquired, just to be safe.
“Not at all,” he drawled in his sexy voice.
“Good.” His cock was full and heavy on her palm. She flicked her tongue over its slit again, wrapped her lips around the thick tip. Stroking its base with one hand, she caressed his thigh with the other.
A long moan sounded above her. Fingers threaded through her hair. His hips thrust toward her, and she edged him in even deeper. Rachel bobbed her head up and down, licking, sucking, enticing him.
“Ah, darlin’ Rae, you ignite my passion.” Dalton slid out of her mouth.
“Why’d you stop me? Didn’t you enjoy it?”
“I enjoyed it just fine.” He slid his hand over her hair, knelt down in front of her. “I love you. I want to feel you encompass me. I want to hear my name whispered in lust and desire from your lips.” He kissed her forehead, gazed into her eyes. “Well, I will pray to God on high that thou my constancy mayst see,” Dalton quoted lyrics from Greensleeves, “And that yet once before I die, thou wilt vouchsafe to love me.”
The universe condensed between them to one solid moment in time. Her counterpart blossomed under his loving gaze, returned his sentiments a hundredfold and then some. All the scientific beliefs and presumptions she’d held about life, love and the great cosmos were overridden.
Rae accepted her connection with Dalton with total faith. Rachel decided she should, too. She no longer needed theories, experiments and hypotheses to rationalize the bond she and Dalton shared across the ages. Through her Wild West counterpart, she experienced a devotion she never thought she would. The man who stood before her was the love of Rae’s life, of hers. Her heart belonged to Dalton as much as his heart was hers.
This is what the poets and lovers meant when they spoke of enduring love, forever and eternity.
Dalton was hers for all time, just as she was his. The primal axiom comforted her. She was loved, and she loved, forever and always. Wasn’t that what life was all about anyway?
A tap on her shoulder jarred the moment between her and Dalton and brought her crashing back to present day. Jumping from the shock of where she’d been and the sudden loss of what she’d been feeling, tears sprung to her eyes. She spun to face the interrupter.
“Are you all right, Rachel?” Miguel’s long-lashed gaze stared at her with concern.
“I… I don’t know.” She shuffled to a couch and plopped down. Off balance and unsure what to believe anymore, she surveyed the room. I probably appear like I’m looking at the place for the first time and confused to boot. Not far from the truth either.
Marianne rushed to sit by her side. “Oh my God, Rachel. You had another episode, didn’t you?”
Rachel couldn’t find the words to explain the situation—the feelings and epiphany she’d had. She nodded.
“It was crazy,” her sister continued. “You just stood there. You didn’t say anything, didn’t move, didn’t respond to any of us. You scared the living daylights out of me.” She swept out her arm. “Of all of us.”
“Sorry. I don’t… I don’t quite know what happened.”
The doors flew open, and Cassie came running in. She cradled books in her arms. “I figured out where I know you from.” She occupied the empty space next to her. “Look at this.” Cassie opened what turned out to be a leather-bound photo album and pointed to an old brown-gray picture.
Rachel’s stomach clenched around what felt like a rock.
“Doesn’t it look like you?” Cassie inquired with an excited voice.
Afraid to admit it out loud, Rachel bobbed her head once. The woman looking up at her from the page was the same one she’d seen in the mirror.
“And this other book is a journal. It chronicles the Dougan family when they settled in Nevada. From what I’ve read, this woman here.” Cassie tapped the picture. “Is the same who’s mentioned in the journal.”
“Rae,” Rachel stated in a hint above a whisper.
Cassie slanted her eyes, giving her a peculiar, questioning look but continued, “Yes. Rae. It says she was married to Dalton Cameron Dougan, one of the two sons of the Dougans who founded the ranch. After Dalton died, Rae moved back east to live with her close friend, Deena, from finishing school, who just happened to be Dalton’s sister. Earlier in the journal, it said that Dalton and Rae met when he’d visited Deena at school. The two had that love at first sight thing going on between them. Despite what her parents wanted for her, she left school and followed him out west. Anyway, I digress. Dalton died. She moved in with Deena and her husband, Jackson, and a few years later she passed on.”
“Does it say from what?” Marianne inquired.
Cassie leafed through the book. “It reads in Darlene’s penmanship, ‘The poor thing. Deena wrote to us that Rae had hung on for as long as she could for the sake of her children, but the chest affliction overcame her. Deena believes, and I concur, that she died of a broken heart. She did love my Dalton so. Darlene.’ Then it goes on that Rae had left all her worldly goods and the care of her twin sons, Dante and Dorian, to Deena and Jackson.”
Dalton died? Broken heart? Rachel’s whole body shook, even her hair follicles seemed to be quaking in their spots. The universal soul connection they shared hiccupped across the fabric of time, struck fear in her heart. No longer able to laugh, love, hold her. He’d had such zest for life, too. “Does it say how—” She coughed. “Does it say how he died?”
“Let me check.” Cassie flipped through more pages, skimmed some passages with her finger. “Ah, here it is. He went to rescue some cattle during an ice storm. Doctor certified that he froze to death.” She shrugged. “Guess nowadays it’d be called hypothermia.”
“Oh, Rachel—” Marianne started but stopped when Rachel threw her sister a glance that said ‘not now.’
A cold like she’d never known settled within her. Rachel rose and went to the fireplace. She tried to warm herself but couldn’t. Behind her, the doors squeaked open and slammed shut.
“Hey everyone,” Dakota’s voice boomed into the room. “I found the star. I had to shine it up a bit.”
Wanting to see the item Dakota had to make sure it was Dalton’s, but at the same time not wanting to face that reality, yet knowing she had to, Rachel slowly turned. Dakota held up the tree topper Dalton had made.
A rush of dizziness and nausea swept over her. She needed to escape from the stares, the lodge full of reminders of a love she once shared—had I ever had it to begin with?—and her thoughts. She grabbed a heavy afghan from a pile near the hearth and ran to the doors.
“Rachel,” Marianne called after her.
“Not now, sis. I just need to be alone.” She sprinted from the lodge to the one place where she knew she’d find the answers.
No memories of her previous jaunt down came to her mind. The lack of clarity and remembering how she’d come to be there when she’d been in bed dreaming scared her. But there was a reason why she’d been drawn to the place. If what Cassie read was true…
She hated to think of Dalton dying from hypothermia, being put into a box and laid to rest in the grave. Then there was Rae. She couldn’t imagine the pain the woman went through losing the love of her life.
Yes, I can. I experienced pain, probably just a fraction of what she’d gone through but heart ache all the same. If I intensified it. Multiplied it.
Her heart tearing in two, Rachel stumbled into the family graveyard. Through watery vision, she checked the stones. Unlike in her dream, they were clear of debris. The broken headstone had been fixed.
Not right! her soul cried. She dropped to her knees and crawled to it, afraid to see the name there but realizing she had to. Rachel reached toward the name, her fingers looking like pale twigs in the moonlight. Her skin made contact with the cold stone, and frigid bolts shot up her arm. Tracing Dalton’s name, the dam of her control opened. Tears poured forth and flooded her eyes and face.
Emotionally, mentally, and spiritually drained, she collapsed to the ground, wanting to encompass his grave, embrace the man she once knew and loved.
As she lay there and grieved, a scene took shape on her mind’s screen.
Dalton and Rae lay on the living area floor of the home near the Christmas tree. By the clothes scattered around them and their naked limbs poking out from the blanket covering them, it was obvious they’d finished a round of lovemaking. Dalton had his arms wrapped around her. Her head rested on his chest.
Why am I not a part of this? In Rae and living this through her? Before she could overthink the change of the process, a man barged into the room. He stopped short when he noticed the couple on the floor then turned his back to them. “Dalton, you’re gonna have to finish up with your lady and quick. Several cattle have gone missing, along with some horses, and we’re gonna need your help rounding them up.”
“All right. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be at the stables.”
You can’t go!
Rae placed a hand on his chest. “You can not possibly consider going out there in this weather. I will not allow it.”
You tell her, girlfriend. If Rachel couldn’t be there in person to argue the point, she’d at least try a different approach by willing her thoughts across the ages.
Dalton kissed the top of Rae’s head and removed himself from her hold. He looked to his ranch hand. “Go on, Colton. I’ll be right there.”
Colton nodded without looking back and left their home.
“Dalton, please, don’t go out there. Let your ranch hands take care of the matter. That is what you have them for, right?”
“Yes, sugar. But what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t go out and help my men? That’s our livestock, our livelihood and hopes and dreams. I have to go and save it all for us.”
Appearing displeased, Rae shook her head. “I understand, Dalton. I just don’t like it. It’s so cold out there. It’s not normal.”
“I know, sugar,” he stated, putting on his boots. “But we need all the heads accounted for, and I want to make sure they are.”
“I still don’t like it.” She rose, her naked body glowing golden in the candle and fireplace light. Rae stood in front of Dalton, pressed her body up against his. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here with me and make sure your seed took?”
Rachel wondered if some of her modern mind-set had rubbed off on Rae. She smiled. That a girl. Play the woman card. Maybe he’ll stay and…
Dalton grasped her upper arms and moved her out of the way. “Rae, stop. I have to go.”
Damn. Stubborn man.
“Fine.” She gathered her clothes to her. “Leave me. Leave the warmth of our house and my arms, regardless that I have a bad feeling about it. Go get your cows, since you can not seem to let your workers do their jobs.”
He tossed her a glare and put his black felt hat on his head. “Rae, my star, I love you, but the pretentious attitude you have courtesy of your family puts burrs under my chaps. I have to go. I won’t be long.” Dalton slammed the door behind him.
It seemed like forever as Rachel watched Rae dress then pace around the small home, apparently worried about her husband. After some more time passed, the redhead put on a coat, wrapped a blanket around her and went out to the porch where she continued to pace.
“It’s so cold out.” Rae rubbed her arms. “Such unusual weather.”
Thick wet drops hit the wood planks and her. Soon the freezing rain came down in stinging sheets, chasing her inside. She dried off, seeming to grow more upset with each passing moment.
“I can’t believe they’d risk life and limb to save some cows. If we need money, I could always write my parents. They would be happy to help.”
Rachel’s anxiety beat quick. Where the hell is he?
“Where are you, Dalton?”
Just as their questions finished, the doors banged open. Colton and another man dragged Dalton in. He was slumped between them, his feet scraping along the ground. They brought him to the fireplace.
“Oh my word. What happened?” Rae rushed to them, grabbing a blanket on the way then tossed it over her husband as they laid him on the floor.
“He fell into the pond. The water was almost frozen over but not enough to hold him and the calf he was trying to get off the ice. The air’s so cold out there, too. We tried to get him back as fast as we could. Zack went to fetch the doc.”
Rae dropped to her knees next to him. “Dalton?” She tapped his cheek. “Dalton? Sweetheart? Wake up. Please wake up.” She looked up at the men surrounding her and her love. “He’s not responding.”
The panic on Rae’s face and the returning heartache over losing him was too much to bear. Rachel turned away from the painful scene, not wishing to relive any of the past anymore. She’d obviously loved big and lost big. She didn’t need to know anymore. Rachel closed her eyes.
Cool wind wafted over her. She opened her eyes. Dalton’s headstone sat in front of her.
Back in the graveyard. Good.
She rose and brushed the dirt off her, picked up the blanket and shook it out.
“Rae?”
A light, tentative voice startled Rachel. She spun. Dalton sat on one of the larger headstones. His form was mist-like, a semi-transparent silvery cloud figure. She shook her head. “Rachel. Rachel Star.”
Dalton tilted his head. “Star. Yes. Why don’t you come to me?”
“Cause you’re dead.” She couldn’t help the words from tumbling forth, nor the pain and hurt from coming through. “In the time period I’m in, you’re gone. Buried. Here in this grave. I don’t know how I’m connected to you or how you found me. I do know one thing, this wasn’t how I envisioned my Christmas vacation or birthday. I expected to visit with my sister. Exchange some presents. Have some cake. Not find out the man of my dreams was a guy I loved in a past life and have fallen in love with all over again, and that he died from stubbornness and stupidity.”
A sad expression crossed his ghostly features. He cocked his head more. “Different time? Dead?” He looked around the area, his face changing from sadness to confusion. “You seem different. This place does, too. More headstones.” He strolled over to her. A weary sigh escaped him. “I’m sorry. I only did what I thought was right. I wanted to support you, give you a good life. I love you, my star.”
“I loved you, too, Dalton, and in a way I still do. But I can’t live like this, existing with you only in dreams. As much as it pains me to say this, we had our chance. It’s gone now.”
He stroked her cheek. It was a chilled feather-like touch on her skin. Then he squatted next to his headstone. “Destiny works in mysterious ways, my star. Somehow our spirits, our souls if you’d rather, are searching for each other, crossing the vast deserts of time to connect.” He traced the letters on the stone like she had earlier. “Yep, that’s my name. So I’m dead.” Dalton sat and faced her. “Maybe you’ll find my contemporary, corporeal counterpart. Thing is, for that to happen, we’d have to let each other go. I have to let you go.”
Rachel shook her head. Though she protested not wanting to deal with the past life and dream stuff anymore, she didn’t want to give him up either.
Dalton appeared in front of her, lifted her chin with a frozen finger. “You have a lot of living to do, and you’re right, we can’t go on like this. I’m happy for the few years we had together. I love you, Rae. Rachel. My pretty Christmas star.” He kissed her forehead. “If you get a chance to love again, take it. As we know, life’s too short not to be happy.”
“You’re not saying good-bye already, are you?”
“No. Not quite yet.” His head shot up and turned as if listening to something. “I have to go for now.”
“Don’t go.” But her request was too late. He’d faded away, leaving her alone in the cemetery.
She left the graveyard and shuffled her way back to the lodge, thinking how her ride on the crazy train would make good fodder for a PhD thesis.
Chapter Ten
With the strange day behind them, and the first massive snowstorm of the winter headed toward them—Mount Charleston had already gained several inches in the last few hours—Damon and Bristol said their goodnights to the gang and retired to their bedroom.
