coffee filled the air. Callie had found all of it comforting over the past year.
She had just finished refilling cups with coffee at the large table at the front of the café where a group of older ranchers met each morning, when she got her first good look at the cowboy who’d come in. She’d felt him staring at her, but hadn’t thought anything of it. She was used to men noticing her. This cowboy was different, though.
His look, as she approached his table, was speculative. Not as if he was wondering whether or not she would sleep with him if he asked her out. No, this was more of a rapt interest that sent a chill up her spine and made her hand holding the pot of coffee unsteady.
He was dressed like the others who came into the Branding Iron. Jeans, boots, Western shirt, all worn enough that he almost blended in. His tan Stetson rested on his sheepskin coat on the chair next to him. There was nothing about the tall, dark cowboy that should have set off warning bells since he looked like the real thing. But her instincts told her he wasn’t just another cowhand.
“Coffee?” she asked as she reached his table.
“Thanks.” His voice was deep, a rumble to it that seemed to reverberate in her chest, making her heart kick up another beat or two.
Her gaze rose of its own accord. The moment she met his dark eyes, she regretted it. They were nearly black. But it was the look in them. She’d found few people looked beyond the surface. This man peered into her as if searching for her soul.
Then he smiled at her, exposing a whole lot of perfect, white teeth. The smile transported his dark chiseled face, making her suddenly aware of how magnificent he was. What surprised her more, though, was her reaction. Chemistry? It had been so long since she’d been attracted to a man, she couldn’t be sure if it was desire or danger. Or maybe a little of both.
She had to suppress a shudder and quickly dropped her gaze, fighting to keep the trembling out of her hand as she poured the coffee. Suddenly she realized that she wasn’t getting a flash of information. Nothing. It was as if the room had fallen silent or she had gone deaf.
That shocked her so much that she wasn’t even aware she was still pouring coffee into his cup until it splashed over onto the table.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried, jerking back.
“No big deal,” he said with a chuckle as he grabbed some napkins and began to mop up the worst of the spill. “Blame it on me. I distracted you.” He gave her a reassuring smile that unnerved her even more.
The cowboy had the kind of good looks that broke hearts. A lock of his thick dark hair had fallen down on his forehead. He hadn’t shaved for a day or two, making her even more aware of his rugged strong jaw. Everything about him said strong, capable and all man. Maybe the cowboy was just what he appeared to be. Maybe.
She didn’t realize she’d been standing there staring at him until her boss, Kate, came over with a cloth to clean up the table. “I’ll give you a few moments to look at the menu,” Callie said and hurried off.
“Are you all right, Callie?” Kate asked when she caught up to her at the back of the café.
“I...I...” No one knew about her “gift.” So there was no way to explain why this stranger had thrown her the way he had. The fact that she’d gotten absolutely nothing scared her. It had happened only a rare few times in her life. Reminded of those times, she shuddered at the memory.
“I guess I’m just clumsy this morning.”
Kate laughed. “Uh-huh. Has nothing at all to do with how handsome that cowboy is,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.
Callie gave her a sheepish grin as if that was all it was. “Would you mind taking his order?”
Kate gave her a sympathetic look as if she’d been there herself. “Sure,” she said before turning to head for the man’s table. Callie could feel the cowboy’s gaze burning into her flesh, even before she looked in his direction. He smiled, then looked down at his menu as Kate approached.
The whole encounter had taken only a few minutes, and yet the memory of his searching gaze lingered, leaving her off balance. She just prayed her worst nightmare wasn’t happening all over again.
Just then, all heads in the café turned as a large construction truck rolled into town and stopped across the street in front of the burned-out site of the former Beartooth General Store. Callie watched as another truck pulled in right behind it. More trucks, loaded with lumber and building materials, followed.
One of the regulars at the large table at the front said, “Hell’s bells, it almost looks as if Beartooth has been invaded by an army.”
“They must be lost,” one of the ranchers joked. “Either that or Nettie Benton is going to rebuild the store.”
“Not likely,” Kate said as she stared across the street at the activity. “She sold that property to marry the sheriff.”
“Well, something’s coming up over there,” a rancher noted. “But who in his right mind would invest in Beartooth? One good wind and the whole town could disappear overnight.”
As Callie looked around the café, she saw that everyone was watching the men unloading building materials across the street.
Everyone but the cowboy at the table in the corner. He was looking at her.
* * *
ROURKE COULDN’T TAKE his eyes off Caligrace “Callie” Westfield. The blurry police photos hadn’t captured her beauty. She looked angelic, from the wide brown eyes to the freckles that bridged her nose and highlighted the tops of her cheeks.
Not only did she look like an angel, she also had an innocence about her that was almost palpable. She wore jeans, an apron over a turquoise T-shirt and a pair of sneakers. As he noticed earlier, she was slimmer than she’d appeared in the photographs, more athletic and in better shape. Rourke estimated that she stood about five and a half feet tall.
He knew looks could be deceiving. Ted Bundy proved that. But he was still having a hard time believing this woman was a serial killer—or even intimately involved with one.
As the owner, a pretty brunette he’d heard called Kate, took his breakfast order, Rourke told himself that he’d been right to question his judgment about coming here. This case had gotten to him. Or maybe Laura was right and Caligrace Westfield had gotten to him from a few grainy snapshots. But right now, he was more than intrigued by the woman.
He hadn’t anticipated his reaction to her—or hers to him, now that he thought about it. For a moment when their eyes had met, he’d thought she recognized him. It was more than possible since he’d been the lead detective on several homicide cases that had gotten him on the nightly news before he’d left the Seattle P.D.
Seeing her in the flesh made him even more curious about her. According to her history, the longest she’d ever worked in one place was here in Beartooth. His P.I. said she lived upstairs in an apartment over the café. Like the other buildings in town, it had been constructed of stone, stood two stories and appeared to be one of the original businesses in town.
The fact that Callie had moved so many times in the past seemed to indicate that she was running from something. He’d thought he had a pretty good idea from what when he’d left Seattle.
