Slow Fever. Cait London. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Cait London
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472037787
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sharp order to Jack sent him racing across the field. Another order and Jack sailed over a small fence, racing into the wide Montana countryside. Bent low on the gelding’s back, Michael wanted to work off his dark mood before meeting Rosa two states away. Another restraining order hadn’t worked and Mary Ann Lucas was pregnant and needed help. Michael didn’t want his dark mood to complicate the discussion with Mary Ann’s brutal husband. He didn’t want mistakes that could ruin Mary Ann’s chances for a new life. With Rosa, Michael dealt with details, efficiently blocking the women’s past from their future.

      Years ago someone like Mary Ann’s husband had taken Michael’s older sister’s life, but there had been no one to protect Lily, not even the law. He’d made a vow upon discovering Lily’s senseless violent death, that he’d protect other women like her. With each woman he rescued, he felt he gave back a little of what no one had done for Lily.

      “Everyone knows that Michael Cusack is a Cull and that his service truck was parked outside your place for most of the night,” Karolina Jones stated firmly the next day in her small, tidy community library. She slammed the Date Due stamp down on a library card and filed it neatly. An anonymous donor had just supplied the library with a hefty contribution that couldn’t be traced. “If he weren’t a Cull, but a man with a good reputation hunting a wife, you’d be called up before the Women’s Council. He’d be obliged to go before them and ask to court you. They’d slap a Rules of Bride Courting handbook in his hands so fast, he wouldn’t have time to run.”

      “‘Fast Hands Michael’ didn’t get that reputation for nothing. He’s been labeled a Cull by the Women’s Council since he was thirteen, already hot to trot. Every girl rode on the back of his motorcycle—except me, of course, and Miranda and yourself.”

      Kylie smiled as she thought of her sister. Miranda had been elegantly nettled by Michael and his lack of interest in her as she was trying out her flirting skills. Sadie McGinnis, a member of the Women’s Council, had already called as Kylie was struggling out of bed—reminding her that Michael’s reputation was dark and that with the number of children visiting his house, he had the ability to impregnate the state of New York.

      However, Michael had stopped to fix Sadie’s front door light this morning and had informed her that the yard light at Anna’s was more of a problem than he’d suspected. And, Sadie knew that though divorcées sometimes leaped into the arms of waiting male predators, Kylie—as Anna’s daughter—was far too sensible. The Women’s Council had decided to dismiss the incident. However Michael’s Cull status remained. “Scandalous, just scandalous how many women he has visiting him in that house. No telling what goes on there. There are probably leopard skin throws and black satin on round beds in every room, push buttons to close the curtains and turn on seductive music. And the way they look at him, as if he were all they had in the world, their guardian,” Sadie had said.

      Kylie didn’t want to think about Michael, or the way his dark study of her had sent off clanging warning signals. “Mmm. I don’t want to talk about Michael. Are you still hunting information about LaRue and about the woman in Valentina Lake?”

      “LaRue’s the only one on the 1880s Founding Mother’s Council who isn’t really portrayed well. The woman haunting Valentina Lake is supposed to be nothing more than a legend. But once I find the right document, I’ll verify that legend. They haven’t named me ‘Super Snoop’ for nothing. I like mysteries and one of them is finding the person who is donating so much to the town. He paid the well digging company to go out to old Mr. Franks’s farm and drill a new well. Several other incidents have happened, like the Williams girl, Netta, received a notice from an orthodontist that she should set up an appointment for badly needed braces. The Freedmans couldn’t pay their medical bills and their mortgage was up—suddenly the bills were cleared. Weird things—but good things—are happening, and someone with money is behind them.”

      Kylie frowned, remembering the different packages her mother had found on their doorsteps. A widow on a tight budget and raising her three children, Anna had smiled softly when the packages revealed material and lace she couldn’t afford. There were other modest gifts—earrings Miranda had wanted for a prom, a graduation watch for Tanner and a golden locket and necklace for Kylie’s sixteenth birthday. A night shadow went slipping through her mind—the image had haunted her since childhood, of that shadow leaving the gifts on their back steps where they could be easily found. While Karolina may have forgotten her sleuth work from back then, pinpointing Michael’s purchases, Kylie hadn’t. “He’s still around then—the anonymous guy, the benefactor.”

      “None of my leads have paid off,” Karolina said. “But I’ll nail him…. You know that all the single men are worked up since you came home. Some of the married ones, too. They’re wondering what you’ll do…. By the way, Michael left town this morning, all dressed in black and looking tough. He’s going after another one of his women friends—that’s his modus operandi, that’s the scenario. He leaves town for a few days and comes back with a woman. He sure orders a lot of things after they arrive. He just backs his rig up to the back of the post office and piles in the boxes. Sometimes it’s baby stuff. I know because I made it a point to ‘accidentally’ stop by and help him load boxes. The labels are from women’s catalog stores—so what are your plans?” Karolina asked in one of her typical fast-lane mind changes.

      Kylie grinned at her friend. They’d known each other as children, and Karolina was always packed with surprises. “I’m all through the mad and crying part. Now it’s time for the reconfiguring, arranging my life and getting an income of some kind. I can’t live at Mom’s forever….”

      “Why not? Anna would have liked you there, taking care of her things. You have Anna’s way of reaching people, of making them feel good and alive.”

      Kylie nodded slowly. “I like helping people, making them feel better. I learned a lot with Mom and then took courses later. Some people are in the massage business to make money, and they don’t have a real feel for it. This is the place for what I want to do, here in Freedom Valley. Come over for dinner tonight. I’m aching to get my hands into that tense neck of yours. We’ll watch a movie and catch up.”

      Karolina frowned and rubbed her neck beneath her prim lace collar. “It is tight. See? We need you in Freedom.”

      Two days later, Karolina squinted out to the road in front of Anna’s house. She’d heard a car honk and another one return the sound, a greeting along lonely roads. Despite Kylie’s relaxing massage, Karolina couldn’t resist popping up and running to the window. She wrapped the sheet she had been lying on around her shoulders. “Quick. Get my glasses and don’t get that massage oil on them, either.”

      “You’re getting all tense again. Come back and let me finish massaging you. You really need the last relaxing part,” Kylie said, handing Karolina her glasses.

      “Pond scum. Womanizer. Cull,” Karolina muttered as she scooted her glasses onto her nose. “That’s Michael out there and he’s got another woman with him. The moon is bright tonight and I see two heads. See? That is exactly why the Women’s Council doesn’t want him around good marriage candidates. He can’t stick to one woman. Never has, so far as I know. He’s following his typical M.O. He’ll take her to his house. Then tomorrow morning all these packages will arrive. Let’s go see what he’s brought home this time.”

      Kylie watched Karolina scurry out of the room, draped in the sheet. “Spy on Michael? I don’t think so. There are just some things that I don’t care to know.”

      “I’m changing into my clothes—all black spy-stuff,” Karolina called. “I’m going whether or not you are.”

      Kylie shook her head even as she jerked on her jacket. “We’re not kids anymore, you know. I got into enough trouble with you back then.”

      Twenty minutes later, Karolina led down a backwoods path from the road to the knoll overlooking Michael’s redwood and brick home. She parted the brush to view his yard, and in the dying light, Michael was holding the crying woman tight against him. Karolina tugged Kylie to crouch beside her, shielded by the brush.