Chapter One

Rain, a heavy mist really, had settled around the valley, closing Lori Black off from everything except her thoughts. Because the day had been warm, Lori still wore the sleeveless T-shirt and twill slacks she’d driven in, but now that she’d been standing outside the farm property for five minutes, her clothes were penetrated by moisture. The pale-blue T-shirt clung to her breasts and rib cage; her short, dark hair glistened. Lori absently brushed damp hair away from her forehead and pushed away from the old Mustang she’d been leaning against.

There weren’t any signs to identify the Kadin ranch, but Lori had seen pictures of the place and she wasn’t mistaken. The two-story, white frame house was barely visible through the jungle of trees and overgrown shrubbery; the massive barn to the left looked as if it was listing to one side; a rusting piece of farm machinery sat mired in the middle of a nearly mature wheat field. Because it had been dark for over an hour, Lori couldn’t identify the various species of plants that ringed the ranch house like a green wall, but she’d wanted to come here as soon as she reached the valley.

I’ve got to be prepared tomorrow, Lori thought. At least I can say I’ve been out here.

She stepped hesitantly up to the open gate leading into the winding private drive. There weren’t any Keep Off signs, but she still didn’t feel right about walking right in, especially at night like this. She thought about going up to the house and introducing herself, but hesitated. According to the information she had on the Kadin ranch, an elderly woman lived alone here. It might frighten her to have a stranger show up on her doorstep on a moonless, misting northwest night.

Lori’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something padding along the wet gravel toward her. She stiffened, recognizing the sound as coming from a dog but having no idea whether the dog was friendly or not. She heard the animal’s breathing long before she was able to make out the dark bundle of fur with a tail wagging so enthusiastically that the animal hit its side with every wag.

“You’re a great watchdog, aren’t you?” Lori asked as she knelt down to receive a wet bundle in her arms. The dog’s front paws raked her thighs and left mud tracks on her pants, but Lori barely noticed. It had been a long time since she’d been accepted uncompromisingly by a living creature. “Hi, fella. Do you have a name? You’re wetter than I am. You know that?”

As if the dog understood what was being said, it squirmed and wriggled until its nose was buried tightly against Lori’s side. It breathed loudly through its nose, the first true sound Lori had heard since she stepped into the mist. She hugged the dog back, not denying the flood of emotion that swept through her. She missed Zero more than she thought possible. The red male mutt she’d brought home from the Humane Society had been her one confidant during the months before her divorce. “What do you think?” Lori asked the wet, black bundle. “Do you think Mrs. Kadin is going to have a heart attack if I ring her doorbell?”

Unfortunately, the dog didn’t seem capable of imparting that kind of information. With a sigh Lori rose to her feet, brushed absently at her slacks and started tentatively up the crushed-rock drive. Vines and low-hanging branches from several massive oak trees threatened to block off her path, but at least they provided some kind of protection from the softly falling rain. Lori shivered once, but she wasn’t cold enough to go back to her car for some kind of wrap. Besides, the mist was promising purification. She stopped for a moment when there was a break in the shrubbery and lifted her head. The clouds hanging low over the valley were more gray than black, a friendly blanket designed to wash away dust but not enough to swell the creeks.

Lori felt moisture on her eyelashes, forehead and lips, accepting the cool penetration. It took her back to a fall she’d spent on the Oregon coast with her father, when fog and mist seemed to begin and end every day. Black Bob would like this place. The acreage around the farm was large enough to keep neighbors at more than arm’s length. In fact, except for the strangely listing barn, Lori couldn’t see any other buildings. That was how Black Bob liked things. “People live jammed up next to other people” was as close as he ever came to philosophy. “That’s what’s wrong with the world. There’s no elbow room. Makes people nervous to have other people living in their pockets.”

There certainly wouldn’t be a problem with neighbors sticking their elbows up next to Mrs. Kadin, Lori thought as she started walking again, choosing her steps carefully because the little black dog was underfoot. A thought warmed her. Her father, Black Bob, would feel at home here. It made her wonder if the elderly lady who lived here ever got lonely, whether it was safe for her to live clear out here.

That not what you’re here for. You want to sound knowledgeable tomorrow. Take a look at what’s around you.

That was easier said than done. There was no way she’d be able to identify what kind of vines were climbing over the edges of the gravel road, seemingly in defiance of automobile traffic, and she had no way of knowing what was healthy or unhealthy growth overhead. Maybe the most she’d be able to tell whoever was going to interview her was that a lot of pruning had to be done in order to allow the sun to penetrate the thick foliage. Obviously, many years had passed since any of the trees had had any attention.

Suddenly, the little dog left Lori’s feet and catapulted its body forward. Its movement was accompanied by a loud chorus of happy barks. Lori stopped. She wondered if the elderly woman was out here, but she was afraid that anything she’d say would startle her.

“Hello out there. Stand and identify yourself.” The voice was masculine, strong and confident.

“Hello,” Lori replied, feeling embarrassed, startled and self-conscious. The hair on the back of her neck rose; meeting a man wasn’t the most comforting thought. She had no idea what he was doing here. “I—the dog said I was welcome.”

“This mutt would welcome Jack the Ripper. You haven’t come to steal the family jewels, have you? I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. There isn’t much except some old furniture that’s too heavy for you to throw over your shoulder.”

At that Lori relaxed. Despite the deep tone of his voice, the man didn’t sound menacing. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “I left my car back at the gate. I hope I didn’t startle anyone.”

“Not really. I heard the car. You have muffler problems.”

Lori laughed. Talking to this stranger was so easy. “That’s not the only problem that old relic has. Ah, I know it’s late, but I wonder if Mrs. Kadin would mind if I looked around.”

The man stepped out of the shadows. Lori could make out glinting, thick, curled hair. He was wearing a T-shirt that looked as wet as hers, but because it was dark, she couldn’t hazard a guess at his age within twenty years. His silhouette was tall and broad enough that she quickly dismissed the thought that he might be Mrs. Kadin’s age. Besides, his strong voice didn’t belong to an old man. “I doubt if she’d mind,” he said. “But Ruth went to bed about a half hour ago. When you’re eighty-five, you need all the beauty rest you can get.”

“Oh.” Lori started to form an explanation for why she was here, but stopped herself. The man certainly was big. His frame seemed to blend in with the night, making it hard for Lori to determine where he left off and the surroundings began. She wasn’t sure how much of herself she wanted to reveal to this wet, impressive stranger. “I guess I should come back in the morning,” she finished instead.

“Is it something I can help you with?” he asked, inclining his head toward her. “Ruth lets me pretend I have some say around here. You aren’t lost, are you?”

Lori shook her head and brushed wet bangs away from her forehead. “No.” She’d never pretended to have any so-called women’s intuition, but something told her she had nothing to fear physically from this man. “Actually, why I’m here is kind of complicated. Is—well, I was going to ask Mrs. Kadin if I could familiarize myself with the place.”

“In the rain? You’re soaking wet.”

Lori glanced down at herself. He was right. There wasn’t much left to the imagination. Thanks to the mist, her sleeveless top clung to her like a second skin. There was no way she could hide the fact that the cold night air had hardened her nipples. She must look like a waif or someone who had decided to take a leave of absence from the state mental hospital. She had no idea what she could say or do to convince him that she didn’t need a keeper. “I like the rain,” she said lamely. “I’ve been in a car all day. It’s almost as good as a shower.”

“Most people take off their clothes when they take a shower.” He smiled. “You’re going to get cold.”

This was ridiculous. Grown people didn’t stand in the middle of what looked like a jungle talking about taking showers when it was too dark for them to have any idea what the other looked like. “I’ll be going to a motel soon,” Lori said, because she couldn’t think of anything else. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.” She took a tentative step backward.

“Hey, don’t run off.” The man reached out and touched Lori’s shoulder but didn’t hold on to her. “Ruth would have my hide if I wasn’t friendly to her visitors. You said you wanted to look around. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I don’t know.” For some reason the man’s touch had a settling effect on her nerves. She no longer felt embarrassed. In fact, what she felt was very human and warm. It made it easier to remember why she’d come here. “It certainly is overgrown. How long has it been since anyone has done any work on the yard?”

“At least twenty years. I don’t know how much you know about the Kadin family, but William Kadin died in the sixties. Ruth has carried on alone since then. She’s had some help with the crops, but the yard has really been neglected. That’s going to be turned around now.”

Lori nodded. She understood the plans for the ranch. That had been included in the lengthy letter from the historical society. What impressed her was how much the man knew. Obviously he hadn’t just been wandering around tonight. “Are you a relative? How much do you know about the historical society? I’m sorry.” Lori clamped a hand over her mouth. “This is ridiculous. I’m asking all these questions, and I haven’t even told you who I am.”

“That was going to be my question,” the man supplied, glancing up as if trying to determine whether something was going to drop on his head. “Who are you?”

Lori stuck out a wet hand. “Lori Jordan, ah, Black. Lori Black.”

“Hello, Lori Jordan Black. I’m Shade Ryan. And don’t ask me about the name. I have no idea why my parents named me Shade. My mother always told me to ask my father, and my father said he’d forgotten.”

Lori laughed. Her laughter carried her past the experience of having her hand smothered in a wet one big enough to crush her fingers if he wasn’t careful. “That sounds like my father,” she said. “His name is Robert Black, but he’s been Black Bob since he was a kid.” It wasn’t until Lori’s hand had been released that she realized she’d just told this stranger something she hadn’t told more than two or three other people.

“Our fathers should get together. It sounds as if they have a lot in common.”

“Sorry. I don’t even know where Black Bob is right now. Maybe—” she said lamely, and quickly returned to her earlier question. “Are you related to Mrs. Kadin?”

Shade Ryan shrugged, and for a moment the movement mesmerized Lori. There was no denying that this man was all male.

“She wouldn’t have me,” he was saying in a voice strong enough to take her thoughts with him. “Says I don’t know enough about farming to keep a rabbit from starving. She’s right, but then we all have our niches in life. You know about the historical society?”

“A little.” Lori shifted her feet. Her tennis shoes were getting wet and chilling her feet. She wasn’t going to be able to stand out here much longer. “I hope to be working for the society. Can you tell me anything about it?”

“I suppose I could, but I don’t want to. You see, I work for the society, and it’s after hours. It’s a good job—don’t get me wrong—but this isn’t the time or place for shop talk. What if I give you the budget tour? That’s all I have time for and about all you can stand if you don’t want to risk getting sick. I’m afraid we’re both going to be locked up for demonstrating blatant incompetence if we don’t get out of the rain pretty soon.”

Lori hung back from accepting Shade Ryan’s offer. He sounded friendly enough, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were the only two people outside tonight. Besides, the truth of the matter was that she was unable to shake his decidedly masculine image. The misting rain had settled down around them like a thick fog, cutting them off from lights and roads and telephones, isolating them from all signs of civilization. While she was alone, Lori hadn’t minded the night rain, but she wasn’t alone anymore. Finding someone like him out here was almost more than her senses could deal with. Learning that he worked for the historical society didn’t dull what she felt.

As if he could read her thoughts, Shade took a step backward. “I promise you I won’t bite. Look, Fang thinks I’m all right. Would he lie?”

Lori had to laugh. She couldn’t very well call the wet, muddy dog a liar. “No. I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“I’d be a lot more inconvenienced if I drove off and left you out here alone. I have a habit of picking up strays. I can’t seem to break myself of that.”

Lori might have imagined it, but she thought there was a certain resignation in Shade’s admission. She couldn’t help but wonder if he thought of her as a stray. Lori would have liked to be able to deny that, but she couldn’t. She felt like an outcast these days. “Do you know what kind of plantings are around the place?” she asked in an attempt to steer the conversation in a safe direction. “That’s what I really need to know.”

“I don’t know poison oak from an oak tree. That’s why Ruth won’t adopt me. But I do know my way around here without getting lost. Will that do?”

Before Lori had time to answer, Shade placed his arm over her shoulder and was leading her down the narrow, foliage-framed road. She felt masculine muscle, hard sinew. A frame like that took work to develop. And maybe effort to control once developed. If it weren’t for the civilized impact of his aftershave, she would have had even more trouble remembering that this was an intelligent, articulate man instead of some primitive creature spawned from her restless, lonely nights. She had to duck her head to prevent being slapped in the face by a low-hanging branch. Shade used his free arm to push away another limb. “You’re right,” he said softly. “It is a jungle here. About all this place lacks is Tarzan swinging through the trees.”

Ground cover of some kind that reached almost waist high was scraping past her pants. She had to lean close to Shade to keep from being tripped up. She could only hope he didn’t know how hard it was to concentrate on anything except his body so close to hers. “Where are we going?” she managed.

“To my favorite spot. You know what a springhouse is, don’t you?”

“I think so.” Lori grimaced as a thorny bush caught her ankle. “Is there one here?”

“Yep. It’s in here somewhere. The ivy has just about swallowed it, but we might be able to find it.” Shade pushed Lori behind him as he picked his way through their jungle-like surroundings, somehow finding a narrow path in the sloping ground. “It’s a good thing Ruth doesn’t need to come here for her water. She’s too independent for her own good. Someday she’s going to get hurt if she doesn’t watch herself.”

Lori started to ask if Shade was some kind of caretaker for the woman who lived here. That was when she was able to make out the barest outline of a low rock building settled in a depression in the ground. A tree seemed to be growing horizontally practically into the building, and she couldn’t tell where the door was. If it had been daylight, Lori probably wouldn’t have resisted the urge to climb the tree and scramble onto the low roof. Probably break her foot when the wooden, moss-covered roof gave way. “That’s the springhouse?”

“That’s it. Ruth’s father built it when they first moved here. They used it as a root cellar for years. There’s a natural underground spring here. Clearest, coldest water in the county. The Kadin farm is like walking into the past. A link I hope we never lose.”

Lori stared up at Shade. His arm was still around her, holding her protectively against his hard, damp side. She dropped the idea that he might be Ruth’s guardian. A historian, maybe.

His comment about the past had been spoken with reverence, as if he shared what she was feeling. He was right. Because there were no streetlights, no moon to break the night, they seemed to be standing in a spot without time. The years, the hours even, didn’t have anything to do with them.

The thought engulfed Lori and left her without the power of speech She was a child again, a young girl trailing after her father as he pushed through a forest on their way to a logging operation. The trees towering over her were ageless. They knew nothing of wars in foreign countries, automobiles, men’s dreams of pushing into space. The forest swallowed the little girl and left her rootless somewhere between prehistoric past and the future. Here the time span wasn’t as great, but the impact on her senses was just as effective. This was one of those rare, special moments to be savored and then locked away, protected by the heart.

“I hope we never lose that link too.” She fought a wave of emotion that wanted to break all the rules and give her the gall to reach up and claim Shade Ryan’s lips. Wondering if she’d discovered a man with emotions that equaled hers was doing things to her senses that she couldn’t try to explain. “At least there’s security in the past,” she said to silence her thoughts. “We know what it holds.”

She could feel Shade staring down at her and wasn’t sure that she’d been able to keep her primitive emotion to herself. “That’s a profound statement coming from a young woman,” he whispered. “Do you feel more comfortable with the past?”

She wasn’t going to answer that question. This man, this stranger, wasn’t privy to her thoughts. It was just her shock at feeling this way that made her feel naked emotionally. Her hands weren’t on his body. He couldn’t know that that’s where she wanted to place them. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable with anything,” she whispered, regretting her comment before she’d finished speaking the words. “I—I guess I’m getting too cold to be able to concentrate on anything,” she amended quickly, her eyes still drawn to the cold outlines of the springhouse. She fixed her thoughts on images of preserved fruits and vegetables stored for the winter inside the cool darkness.

Shade shrugged, taking her slight body with his movement. “I’ll accept that, for tonight. But I’d like to know more about why you feel the way you do about the past. I expect something like that from someone Ruth’s age, not a young woman.” When he noticed the wary expression on Lori’s face, he apologized. “Don’t mind me. It so happens that I’m the director of the historical society, which means I’m constantly juggling history with current concerns. It has a way of getting in the way of many of my conversations. Can I show you any more?”

The director? This man could turn out to be her boss after tomorrow. And she’d let him come too close tonight—emotionally as well as physically. She supposed she should tell him more about herself and why she was here, but that would turn tonight from the mystical thing it was into a business conversation. And as long as he was this close to her, she didn’t have the strength to shatter the mood. “No,” she said softly. Then, although the words were hard to say, she continued. “I’ve taken too much of your time already.”

“Time is something I have a lot of at night. Come on. You’re shivering. Let’s see if we can find the road without getting eaten up by the vines.”

Lori managed not to draw away until Shade had her back on the gravel drive, but as soon as she could take a step without subjecting her ankles to any more thorns, she freed herself from his enveloping arm. It was only the dark, the mist, their primitive surroundings, that made her want to cling to this experience. And to him. “I appreciate the tour,” she managed lamely. “I feel rather foolish inconveniencing you like this.” She started toward her car.

Shade stopped her. “I’m going that way myself. My car’s parked on the road leading to the barn. That’s something I think you’d like to see in the daylight. It’s over a hundred years old.”

Lori concentrated on walking, her now-numb toes unable to discern the tiny hills and valleys in the road. She listened absently as Shade told her about the barn’s uses over the years, the need to replace rotted timbers, but the sound of his voice rather than the words themselves were what reached her. His voice seemed to come from a place so deep in his chest that it had to struggle to make its way out. It spoke of strength, masculinity, competence. A man she couldn’t even see shouldn’t have a voice like that. It made keeping her hands off him harder than it should have been.

At last Shade had her back to her car. He stepped away from her and ran his hand along the car’s front fender. “What is it, an old Mustang?”

“A 1965 Mustang,” Lori said proudly. She couldn’t deny that it was much easier to breathe, to think, now that his attention was focused on the car. “My father bought it for me when it came time for my first car. I’ll probably never sell it.”

“I should hope not. They’re worth more now than they ever were. They’re unique cars, mavericks.”

Like me, Lori thought. “It still needs a new muffler. Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever,” Lori said as she tried to reach into her wet pants for the car keys. She tugged them loose. “Again, thanks. I hope you don’t catch cold.”

“People don’t catch cold from the rain. They get that from other people. Are you sure you know your way out of here? It’s a pretty isolated part of the county.”

Lori saw Shade’s hand reaching for her and shied away. She’d been touched enough for one night. It was too hard to keep her mind on track when he did that. “Yes. No problem,” she muttered, trying to reach for the door handle without it looking too obvious that she was avoiding contact.

Ryan pulled back his hand. “Don’t be afraid of me, Lori Jordan Black. I’m not going to eat you up.”

You’re right, Lori admitted silently. No man‘s ever going to try to do that to me again.