J.T. stood inside the corral, holding the end of the long lead rope clipped to King's halter. With softly spoken words, he coaxed the horse into in a wide circle, allowing the spirited stallion a minimal amount of control before he started the tedious breaking process. King's blue-black coat gleamed in the sun, and he tossed his head rebelliously. J.T. knew his display was more an arrogant act than any real sign of a threat.
Every day J.T. worked with King, usually in the mornings after the hands rode out and Laura left for school. Spending time with the horse made him feel closer to Caitlan's spirit. She'd left him with the special gift of King's fragile trust. Now, it was up to him to hone that bond into something more. J.T. was determined to one day saddle and ride the stallion that had shown so much promise before Randal started abusing him.
Randal. Anger welled in J.T. He still found it difficult to believe his own cousin had tried to kill him. Randal had admitted to everything. Open murder threats, even after Randal had been apprehended, combined with his murder attempt and arson, would land him years in prison. Even though it pained J.T. to see his cousin in such a position, he refused to compromise the safety of his family or his men. Pressing charges had been difficult, but his only choice. Randal had shown no remorse for his evil deeds, or for shooting Caitlan.
Familiar grief and anguish twisted J.T.'s insides. Two weeks had passed since Caitlan had left the Circle R never to return. Two weeks since he'd become nothing more than flesh and bones, his heart merely an instrument to pump blood. He was empty inside, more lonely and desolate than he could ever remember being.
Everyone believed she'd gone to County hospital, then flown back home to be with her family. J.T. knew better, but there were times when he caught himself believing the same thing…hoping and wishing that she was a mortal and would return to the Circle R to live with him forever.
She was gone from this lifetime, and some days he didn't think he'd survive the endless years until they were joined.
She'd told him the memory of her being on Earth and the pain of losing her would ease in time. With the medallion, everything remained sharp and clear, reassuring him that he hadn't dreamed Caitlan's brief existence-reassured him he wasn't slowly going crazy.
Some days, he truly wondered.
King's canter slowed and he whinnied soulfully, bringing J.T. out of his thoughts. Coming to a stop, the stallion's ears pricked forward and he stared off into the distance. A gentle breeze blew around them, rustling the leaves in a nearby tree and scattering a warm, spring scent.
"What is it, boy?" J.T. slowly approached the horse. King glanced at him and whinnied again but didn't shy away. Reaching up, J.T. stroked his hand down King's sleek neck. "Good boy," he murmured.
"You handle him well."
J.T.'s hand froze in midstroke and his insides twisted into a huge knot of trepidation. Caitlan… Amanda. Oh, God, now he was hearing her voice. J.T. clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut to ward off the sweet voice filtering through his mind.
The corral gate unlatched, and King started forward, neighing softly. The lead rope tugged in J.T.'s hand, and he dropped it, allowing the horse to roam freely.
"Hello, King," came the feminine voice again, then light laughter that ribboned around J.T.'s soul. "I missed you too, boy," she said.
Drawing in a deep breath to release the tension coiling his body, J.T. opened his eyes and turned, finding Caitlan-Amanda, he corrected himself-rubbing King's muzzle just five short feet away from him. The horse nudged her hand affectionately, his eyes shining with devotion. J.T. stared at the two of them, the pressure in his chest increasing with each passing second. She looked so… real.
She glanced his way, her violet eyes dancing mischievously. "Is something the matter, Johnny?" The laughter in her voice belied the concern creasing her brow. "You look as though you've seen a… ghost."
"Oh, God," he choked, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "I amgoing insane!"
A beautiful smile wreathed her face. "No, you're not," she said softly. Leaving King, she approached him. The breeze sifted through her silky brown hair, ruffling the strands like caressing fingers. Like his fingers itched to do. She stood in front of him, love and promises sparkling in the depth of her gaze.
He swallowed back the thickness in his throat, unable to believe she stood within touching distance. Curling his fingers into fists, he curbed the impulse to reach for her and haul her into his arms-to reaffirm that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination.
"Amanda?" he asked tentatively, afraid if he spoke too hopefully she'd disappear like a wispy curl of smoke.
She shook her head. The bright sun shot gold threads through her hair and added a slight flush to her cheeks. "Caitlan," she corrected. "Amanda died over sixteen years ago. You know that. She can never come back."
"You left me, too, and you said you weren't coming back," he replied, unable to contain his bitterness over what had happened to her. To them. "So what are you doing here?"
She stepped closer. With a gentle smile, she lifted her hand and smoothed her palm inside the collar of his shirt. He sucked in a breath and flinched at the unexpected sensation of her fingers sliding over his collarbone.
"Caitlan," he said on a low groan infused with all the anguish filling his soul. "Why are you here?" he asked again, his voice brimming with misery. "To torment me even more than I already am?"
"No." Her fingers curled around the gold chain just inside his shirt and withdrew it and the medallion. Holding the pendant in her palm, she met his gaze steadily. "My Superiors are quite upset that you won't relinquish the medallion."
She'd come to sever the only link he had to her. The thought sent a shaft of anger through him. "I don't want to give you up, or the memories of our time together," he said fiercely, grabbing her hand and dislodging the medallion from her grasp. "I won'tgive you up, or let those memories fade, even if it means keeping the medallion. I love you, Caitlan."
Pleasure brightened her eyes and a warm, sensual smile curved her mouth. "I love you, too, John Thomas Rafferty. Even more than I thought possible." She gave him an upswept look that heated his blood. "They say the second time around is always better than the first."
Her subtle insinuation teased him, made him wish for things that could never be. His fingers circled her delicate wrist, and the pulse beneath his thumb leapt rhythmically, throbbing with vitality. His own heart thudded in unison with hers.
Damn. She felt so real, so warm. So alive.
He pushed her hand away, irritated with himself for hoping and believing in the impossible. "Dammit, go away!" he growled, spinning from her. He plowed both hands through his hair, nearly pulling out the strands in frustration. "I can't take this anymore. Just go away," he said, his voice a desperate plea.
When I turn around she'll be gone. Poof. Back to heaven where she belongs. He did, and she wasn't. Fury built in him until he wanted to explode. Why was she tormenting him this way?
"Go away!" he yelled, the words booming like thunder. Then he glanced around surreptitiously, grateful to find the area still deserted. King whinnied uncertainly at J.T.'s tone and cantered to the far side of the corral. When J.T. looked back at Caitlan, she was smiling-smiling, for chrissakes!
"I can't go away," she said, shrugging negligently. "Unless you want me to take your truck and find a motel room in town-"
"What the hell are you talking about?" he cut in. He jammed his hands on his hips, his stance rigid with tension.
She tucked an errant wisp of hair behind her ear, secrets sparkling in her violet eyes. "Well, it seems you and I are stuck with one another for at least fifty-two years."