Midnight Thunder

Lexi wasn’t surprised. Cade had always been a magnet for animals—and people. She was only one of many who’d longed to be close to this warmhearted but complicated man. As she stepped back from the open door to let Cade walk in, Ringo eyed her as if suspecting she had plans to separate him from the person he adored.

She had enough experience with cats to know that releasing Ringo into a large house where he could find all sorts of hidey-holes was a bad idea. “Let me open a can of tuna, and then we’ll take him into the guest bath so he’ll be contained in one spot. The tuna might distract him enough for you to slip out of here without too much fuss.”

“Good idea.”

“I’ll be right back.” She started toward the kitchen.

“You look great, by the way.”

She glanced over her shoulder to find him watching her with warmth in his green eyes. “Thanks. You, too.” Her heart beat faster as she hurried into the kitchen. She knew that look far too well. It had gotten her into a lot of trouble in the past. She didn’t need that kind of trouble now.

Rosie’s pantry was neatly organized, which made the tuna easy to find. As Lexi carried it over to the electric can opener sitting on the counter, she heard Cade murmuring to the cat. The soft rumble of his voice stirred more hot memories, damn it. She shoved the tuna under the can opener’s blade so the sharp buzz of the motor could drown him out. She’d seriously underestimated his ability to arouse her just by being Cade.

Then his murmurs turned to a surprised “Hey!” A second later Ringo wound his furry body through her legs, his plaintive meow announcing that he’d smelled the tuna.

“Sorry about that.” Cade appeared in the kitchen. “I didn’t anticipate his leap for freedom. He’s probably really hungry.”

“How about you?”

“I’m fine. I’ll get something after I see Mom.”

“Okay.” Lexi tamped down the urge to offer a sandwich for the road. She didn’t need to leap into her former role of nurturing girlfriend. He was a grown man who’d managed to take care of himself without her help for the past five years.

Instead she opened a cupboard, took out a shallow bowl and dumped the tuna into it. “I’ll bet if I carry this into the bathroom, he’ll follow me. You might as well go unload your horse and save some time.”

“Hang on—let me see if Mom has carrots.” He opened the refrigerator door and rummaged in the vegetable bin with the ease of someone who’d done it thousands of times. “Perfect. I’m outta here.” He edged the door closed with his hip and backed out of the kitchen while keeping his attention on the cat. Ringo stayed right by Lexi’s feet and continued his frantic meowing.

Once Lexi heard the front door shut, she walked down the hallway and into the guest bath with Ringo in hot pursuit. She set the bowl on the tile, and he buried his nose in it. Quietly she backed out and closed the bathroom door. Later she’d find something to use as a litter box.

After putting on her boots and jacket, she stepped outside in time to see a large black horse backing slowly down the trailer ramp. Cade had a gentle grip on the lead rope. And he was singing.

He had a decent voice, one of the few things about him she’d forgotten over the years. She remembered it now as she listened to his rendition of “Red River Valley.” The kids had sung it around the campfire at Thunder Mountain. Back then she’d joined the others in making fun of the sentimental words, but tonight they made her heart ache.

Cade completed the maneuver and paused at the bottom of the ramp to reward the horse with a piece of carrot. Apparently a sound track helped the animal behave. Her career had brought her in contact with a riding instructor who encouraged her students to hum or sing when they were nervous. Lexi had adopted the technique for calming uneasy riders, but she hadn’t considered using it for the horses. Now she would.

She waited until Cade finished his song before she left the porch and walked slowly over to him. The horse’s coat gleamed in the dusk-to-dawn spotlights that illuminated the circular drive. “He’s a beauty, Cade.”

“I had to buy him so I could get him away from my former boss. If he’d stayed there, he would have ended up dead sooner or later.”

Lexi shuddered. “Then I’m glad you bought him. What’s his name?” She approached with care.

“Hematite. He was abused as a colt, dismissed as a discipline problem by the time he was two and sold cheap to my boss less than a month ago. Thornwood expected me to straighten him out.”

“Looks as if you’re making progress. He unloaded well.”

“And I’m damned glad he did. There were no guarantees.”

“It’s dumb to make guarantees where horses are concerned.” Lexi surveyed Hematite. “But as of now, he seems docile enough. Want me to take it from here? I know you’re eager to get to the hospital.”

“I am, but I think it would be best if I lead him into the barn. Just let me know where to put him.”

“Follow me.” She wasn’t about to push it. Cade knew his horse, and she didn’t relish the thought of dealing with an unpredictable animal tonight. Swinging open the double barn doors, she turned on the lights along the aisle between the rows of stalls. “Second one on the right. I laid down fresh straw and put a flake of hay in the feeder. Water’s turned on, too.” She walked ahead of him and opened the stall door.

“Thanks. This is great.” He led Hematite into the stall, unhooked the lead rope and rubbed the horse’s neck. “You’re safe now, buddy. I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours.”

Hematite bumped his nose against Cade’s arm. Then he walked over to the hay rack and began to munch.

Cade let out a breath as he left the stall and latched it behind him. While he coiled the lead rope, he gazed at the horse. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he understood what I just told him. I’ve never seen him so relaxed.”

“At the very least, he probably picked up on your relief.”

“I am relieved. I had no idea if this would work, if I could transport him from hell to heaven.” He glanced at Lexi. “Thanks for making it possible.”

She shrugged. “Don’t thank me. I’m only doing what Herb and Rosie would have wanted.”

“I appreciate it, all the same.” He looked around the barn as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. “Wait, why are there three other horses in here? I thought they were only planning to keep Navarre and Isabeau.”

“I have the same question. The last time I came out to see them, they only had those two, but that was a couple of months ago. When Herb called tonight, he wasn’t all that coherent, but I gathered they’re boarding.”

Cade frowned. “Boarding? Why?”

“You’ll have to ask him. I have no clue unless they need something more to take care of. That would fit.”

He repositioned his hat in a typical Cade gesture. “I suppose so. They love to be of service, thank God. If they hadn’t come along...”

Her heart squeezed. “I know.”

“Yes, you do.” He held her gaze. “You know that more than anyone. Lexi, I—”

“Go see Rosie.” She wasn’t ready for a heart-to-heart. “We’re both tired. We’ll talk later.”

He nodded. “All right. But let me say this much. I’ve missed you every single day.”

She swallowed her instinctive response. She’d missed him every single day, too, but she wasn’t going to admit it. “Go see Rosie.”

He turned as if to walk out of the barn. Then he swung back and reached for her. Before she could protest he’d pulled her into his arms and brought his mouth down on hers. It was a hard kiss, a kiss filled with frustration. There was no tenderness, only heat and confusion. It was over before she could respond.

He left the barn without looking back. Heart pounding, she pressed her fingers to her mouth. She still loved him with every fiber of her being. And he still loved her. But as she’d learned five years ago, love wasn’t enough.

3 (#ulink_2b1a18e8-fee7-5d7c-bc50-eb5f3be557cc)

CADE WASN’T A fan of hospitals, especially this one. His mother had died here when he was barely thirteen, before he’d had a firm grasp on the concept of cancer. Years later he’d concluded that the actual cause of death had been hopelessness. But that wasn’t a medical term, so cancer had been listed instead.

Coming back here took some white-knuckled determination on his part, but Rosie lay in one of these rooms, so that meant he had to slay his dragons. Everyone he met on his way to her room was wonderful. It wasn’t their fault that he dreaded walking these halls with his mother’s ghost at his side.

When he came into the room, the sight was terrifyingly familiar. Rosie appeared to be asleep in that sterile white bed, and she was hooked up to a bunch of monitors. Herb rose from a chair and came over to enfold him in a fierce, silent hug. The guy was more bony and fragile than Cade remembered.

For the first time he realized that these people who had been the seawall standing between him and drowning were now vulnerable and in need of protection. That thought focused him more than any other. He could do this.