Her Midnight Wedding (Keeper's Kin Book 2) Read online

  “Oh boy.” He picked up the chairs, turning them over and sitting them on top of the tables.

  “I need to start working on my dress. Miss Gertie and I were just talking about it. I’m going to talk to Regina Foster about helping, but I’m still going to do part of it myself.” Felicity sat down at one of the tables, nudging the other chair out with her foot.

  Kade eyed it suspiciously before he joined her. “And?”

  “And you can’t see it, that’s what. It’s tradition. I’m going to have to set up in the kitchen. The table’s the only place big enough to deal with all that fabric, and there aren’t any desks for me to put a sewing machine on in the guest rooms, besides.” Nibbling her lower lip, she held out her hand and laced her fingers with his when he took it. “So you’re gonna need to stay somewhere else until it’s done and put away.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Are you kickin’ me out of the house?”

  She blushed. “I don’t want it to sound like that.”

  “I’m teasin’.” Kade grinned at her, tweaking her nose. “But I can talk to Marshall tonight. See if he can put me up in the bunkhouse once you get started.”

  “Maybe it’d be better if you try to move there sooner,” she murmured, ducking her eyes.

  He paused. “What do you mean?”

  Felicity shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Miss Gertie said something, and... well, it bothered me. About the two of us being in the same house. About people talking about us.”

  “Of course people are talkin’ about us. That’s what people do.” He squeezed her fingers, rubbing her arm with his other hand.

  Flushing, she bowed her head. He was right, of course. “Maybe we shouldn’t do things to aggravate it, though. I mean, I’ve spent my whole life in Holly Hill. I don’t want people to think ill of me. Or ill of you.”

  He stifled a laugh. “I don’t think there’s a soul in the world who would think ill of you. If they think ill of me, I probably deserve it. I ain’t that great a guy.”

  “Oh, hush. A man who buys Christmas trees for strangers can’t be that bad.” She tried to smile, but she couldn’t hold it. “But you coming to see me right after she said that sort of drove it home. I think...” The words stuck in her throat.

  Kade raised a brow, encouraging her to go on.

  She gulped, then tried again. “I think maybe we ought to hold off on... on intimate things. Until we’re officially married, that is.”

  A slow frown worked its way onto his face. “Intimate things?”

  “You know,” Felicity murmured, squirming in her seat. “Like abstinence.”

  “Abstinence,” he repeated. “But we barely-”

  “I don’t just mean sleeping together, Kade.” She hardened her tone, gripping his hand with both of hers to keep from shaking. “I mean all of it. No sex, and no biting.”

  He sobered. “Filly, I... I’m sorry, I never meant to impose on you when I-”

  Felicity leaned across the table, pressing a finger to his lips. He had his own code he adhered to when it came to feeding. Never without permission, and always with respect. “It’s okay,” she reassured him, stroking his jaw. “I don’t mind. I really don’t. The problem is I like it too much.”

  Just thinking of the sensual experience of being bitten made her shiver, awakening senses and desires she’d prefer to stay dormant during a conversation as weighty as this. She licked her lips, forcing herself to go on. “Anyway, it might do us some good, you know? Build a little anticipation before the wedding. Give us something to look forward to, and make it extra special.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Kade murmured, squeezing her hand again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize people talkin’ would bother you that much.”

  She hadn’t realized it, either. “I appreciate that you’re willing to talk about it.”

  “And I appreciate you tellin’ me, instead of goin’ cold. But...” He trailed off, his brow furrowing.

  Felicity tilted her head. “But what?”

  “Well, if you don’t want people to talk, this probably ain’t gonna help.”

  She bit her lip. “I know.” Had she thought about it sooner, she would have sent him to the bunkhouse as soon as he’d proposed. He’d stayed in the Hilltop House since he’d arrived in Holly Hill, and it hadn’t taken her long to tumble into his bed, either. Even if they stopped their midnight sneaking, it wouldn’t change that people assumed they’d done it. And moving him to the bunkhouse on the McCullough ranch now, after half a year together, would only set the rumor mill to turning harder. But there was her dress to think of and, when it came down to it, holding that tradition felt more important than stilling tongues.

  “All right,” Kade sighed, stretching his legs out beside the table and reclining in his chair. “Well, I suppose there’s nothin’ for it. I’ll talk to Marshall tonight. He oughta have room in the bunkhouse. I’ll tell him you need some space while you’re makin’ your dress, see if he’ll put me up startin’ tonight. Will that make you feel better?”

  Cool relief washed over her and she nodded.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “I gotta head that way in a few minutes, anyhow.”

  She smiled when he lingered. “Something on your mind?”

  He coughed and cleared his throat. “Well, before we make that abstinence thing official, is there any way we could...” His eyes trailed down to her throat and he finished the question with a raised eyebrow.

  Felicity burst out laughing, swatting the brim of his hat. “Get out, you!”

  Scowling, he righted his Stetson and stood up. “Fine, I’m goin’. I’ll let you know what Marshall says.”

  “Thank you, Kade.” She smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes and feeling warmth blossom in her chest when he flashed her a crooked grin.

  He nudged his hat a little lower, turning up the collar of his shirt before braving the outdoors.

  TWO

  * * *

  ABSTINENCE.

  She’d asked for abstinence.

  Kade gritted his teeth, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel of his truck and exhaling hard.

  He wasn’t angry. He’d been in Holly Hill long enough to know what people in a small town were like, and he couldn’t fault her for wanting to give the right impression. Even if they were a little late.

  It didn’t matter to him. Kade was no saint and he knew it. He suspected everyone else knew it, too, whether or not they knew the truth. He was well-liked by his fellow cowboys, considered his employer a friend, and was treated well by everyone he dealt with in town. He made an effort to be polite, holding doors and lending a helping hand any time he could. But he’d never shake the shadow around him, and even the people who liked him occasionally cast him furtive glances.

  Like Miss Gertie.

  Kade liked the old woman. She’d been kind to Felicity for... well, forever, he assumed. She was a grandmotherly sort, even clucking over him, when he was the last person needing clucked over. Yet she was suspicious of him. Rightly so, he supposed; if anyone in Holly Hill had a clue what had brought him there in the first place—and what he’d tangled Felicity in over the winter—they would’ve had his head.

  He was a bounty hunter, a cold-blooded killer at heart. Cold-blooded in more ways than one, he thought with a hint of chagrin, jamming his truck into gear. He drove whenever possible in the summer, grateful for the shade his truck offered.

  It was only a few short blocks back to the Hilltop House. The stately bed-and-breakfast had been his home for close to six months, not counting the time he’d spent there on a hunt. He’d never intended to stay. But hunting the monster he’d been sent to kill would have been impossible without Felicity’s help, and the few weeks they’d worked together had tangled his heartstrings with hers so inextricably he hadn’t even tried to shake himself free.

  Truth be told, he liked it.

  He liked having a home full of life and laughter. He lik
ed having a steady, reliable job on Marshall McCullough’s ranch. He liked working with the horses and cattle, even liked the small-town country feel.

  Worst of all, he liked being in love.

  Kade smiled at the thought. A year ago, he would have laughed at the idea. Now he couldn’t imagine life any other way. And for the first time, slinking through the shadow of the house to get inside and gather some of his things, he regretted that his life with Felicity couldn’t be more normal.

  He packed just enough to make a stay in the ranch bunkhouse tolerable. Clothing, his toothbrush and other essentials, and one handgun in a locking case. After so many years flitting from place to place, getting into trouble on more dangerous jobs, he wasn’t comfortable without a weapon under his bed.

  He tossed the bag into his truck, rubbing his eyes before starting the engine. It would be easier if he had everything on hand. There was no reason for Marshall to tell him no; the bunkhouse always had space, so long as the extended McCullough family wasn’t around for holidays. He’d just have to pick a secluded bunk, far away from windows or anything else that might make his stay uncomfortable.

  The first day would probably be misery. Getting used to the other cowboys coming and going, trying to make sure he stayed out of the light, trying to keep the boys from becoming suspicious when he never joined them for meals.

  Food. That was the bigger problem. He counted on Felicity for at least a portion of the month’s blood supply. He’d worked out standing agreements with enough people nearby—outside of Holly Hill—to live comfortably, but Felicity was one of them. Always there to provide him with a quick taste when the cravings got bad, always willing to give him a full meal every six weeks or so. Without her, he had a gap in his feeding schedule. One he could tolerate, but not without frustration. No one liked to go hungry, but right now, the craving burned so badly it made his teeth ache.

  “Just keep your head,” he muttered to himself, heaving a sigh. “Nothin’ to be done for it, at least not tonight.” It wouldn’t be his first time working on an empty stomach and probably wouldn’t be the last.

  Kade parked his truck near the barn at the McCullough ranch, grateful for the shade. Twilight hours were bearable, so long as he wore long sleeves and kept his hat low, but five-thirty in June was still sunny enough to do more than just sting. The closer they got to the solstice, the harder it was to stay safe. He’d been burned several times in the past month, though oddly enough, it didn’t seem to have as much an effect on him as it had before. He chalked it up to the circumstances. Steady access to sustenance made a considerable difference in a vampire’s strength, and he’d never had so regular a supply as he did in Holly Hill.

  Until today, anyway.

  “You’re early, Colton!” Marshall McCullough called from the barn door, checking his watch. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here so soon before your shift in months.”

  “Been busy. I apologize.” Kade strolled over to meet him, trying to look relaxed.

  “Ah, nothing to apologize for. You’re always on time. I just thought you’d be trying to squeeze in a few extra minutes with the future missus. Everything all right?” The rancher’s thick salt-and-pepper mustache twitched as he spoke, and he nudged his tan cowboy hat a little higher.

  Kade sighed. “Sort of. Actually, I was gonna ask if you’d mind me holin’ up in the bunkhouse here for a while.”

  Marshall’s eyebrows climbed toward his hat. “Here?”

  “Yes, sir. So long as it’s all right.”

  “That’s fine by me, but... Kade, is everything okay? With you and Miss Felicity? She’s got that big, pretty house, and you’ve never...” The rancher trailed off, frowning.

  “It’s fine,” Kade replied, a little more gruffly than he intended. “She’s supposed to be makin’ her weddin’ dress. Says I’m not allowed to see.”

  “And that requires you to leave the house completely?” Marshall cocked his head to the side, clearly not buying it.

  Kade shrugged. “Man, I don’t know. Women. Think you got ’em figured out, and that’s right when they throw you for a loop. Thank you, though.”

  The rancher nodded stiffly. “If you need anything, just let us know. Alberta and I are always happy to help where we can.”

  “I appreciate it. I’ma go see to Dex, now. Holler if you need me for somethin’, since I’m here anyway.” Kade managed a grin, slipping into the barn and resisting the want to sigh.

  He didn’t have anything against staying in the bunkhouse. When he’d first accepted the job in Holly Hill, he’d planned on staying there. But after the comforts of the Hilltop House—the private suite he kept upstairs, clean towels every morning, the privacy, and Felicity’s presence—thinking of the drab cabin-style bunkhouse with its long row of beds made him want to groan.

  His tall bay gelding greeted him with a quiet whicker, leaning over his stall door to push Kade’s hat down in front of his eyes.

  “Quit,” Kade grumbled, nudging the brim of his Stetson back up with his thumb.

  The big Quarter Horse moved back when he entered the stall and, for just a moment, the peaceful nature of Dex’s presence offered a bit of comfort.

  Half of what made him irritable was the hunger, Kade decided. He wasn’t starving yet, but he’d gotten spoiled. Going without the meal he’d expected put a damper on his mood. He could set up another supplier, but that would take time. Plus, if he was living in the bunkhouse, he wasn’t sure when he’d have the privacy to take care of that kind of business.

  Not that he had an easy way to do it. He’d abandoned his cell phone years ago and had never looked back. It wasn’t a problem until times like this. When he’d been an active hunter, he’d tried to keep a burner phone in his truck, just in case he needed to get ahold of his Keeper. There was no reason he couldn’t call from a land line, but the idea of standing in Alberta McCullough’s kitchen arranging midnight appointments to drink blood was less than pleasant.

  There was all of one person in Holly Hill who knew what he was and Kade intended to keep it that way.

  The repetitive motions of grooming his horse settled his nerves and quieted his thoughts. Only once Dex was thoroughly dirt-free did he saddle up. Then he petted the bay’s nose and set to preparing himself, tying a bandana around his neck and pulling on his work gloves. So long as he kept his sleeves down and didn’t let the bandana slide, he was covered enough to keep from burning—though the sun always stung through the layers he wore. His comrades jokingly asked how he could stay so dark without the sun ever touching his skin. He just smiled and laughed along, never answering.

  Kade led his horse out on foot, keeping his head down. After the first hour or two, it would be dark enough for him to be comfortable. Until then, he watched every step, staying in Dex’s shadow when he could.

  Past the rail, he mounted up. Normally, he’d flag down one of the daytime cowboys and find out where the herd was. Unlike larger outfits, the McCullough ranch had all of one pasture. The cowboys were responsible for driving the cattle around it to keep the grazing even, but they’d established a rough pattern. It wouldn’t be hard to find them, and tonight, they had extra time.

  Dex pranced until Kade gave him his head, letting the tall gelding lope out across the range as he pleased. The wind felt good, and the steady sway of Dex’s smooth canter made it easy to remember why he’d taken up the guise of cowboy to begin with.

  They rode for almost a mile before the scent of blood hit his nose.

  Kade reined his horse to a trot, cutting toward a swell where wide-winged buzzards picked at something he couldn’t see.

  The birds took wing with irritable protests and Dex spooked, skidding to a stop in the dust before pacing back a few steps.

  “Easy, now,” Kade murmured, rubbing the bay’s neck as he slid out of the saddle and dropped the reins. He trudged the last few yards on his own, crinkling his nose at the smell. At the top of the hill, a deer carcass waited.

  Animal blood wa
s different. When he’d been young, he’d thought it might sustain him. But it was sharp and bitter, and made him ill when he’d tried to drink it. His Keeper had laughed.

  Kade crouched beside the dead beast, looking it over. It hadn’t been there long. It wasn’t bloated, and aside from the sour stink of animal blood, it was only just starting to smell. Killed earlier in the day, maybe; possibly the night before. The buzzards had done a lot of damage, but they were just picking at the leftovers.

  He turned his head, scouting the ground around it. The ground was dry, but where the thing had bled, it had softened enough to take tracks. Coyotes, from the look of it. But if they’d killed it, how had it had enough time to bleed that much before they ate?

  Poking at the mess with one gloved fingertip, Kade inspected the remains. The organs were gone. No surprise, there; those were the choice morsels. A good portion of the meat was gone, too, but from the bloodstained ground, it looked like that had come later. Something killed it, ate just the best parts, and left the rest for the coyotes and buzzards.

  Kade shook his head, an eerie feeling of wrongness crawling down his spine. He’d seen kills like this before. Too many of them. He grabbed the carcass by one leg and gave it a twist to see what else it would reveal.

  A bloodied throat. Deep gouges on the other side, where the scavengers hadn’t touched. And grooves in some of the ribs, consistent with teeth too big to belong to a coyote.

  Kade wiped his bloodstained glove in the grass, then stood up and spat. “Looks like I’m gonna be callin’ Thaddeus sooner than I thought,” he commented to his horse.

  Dex whuffed, shifting uneasily as Kade climbed back into the saddle. He turned Dex toward where he figured the herd would be, clicking his tongue and nudging the gelding’s ribs with his heels. The horse didn’t need much encouragement.

  His guess was right on the money and the herd came into view soon. On the other side of the herd, a cowboy raised his arm and waved.

  Kade waved back, slowing Dex to a walk. They paced around the grazing animals and Kade tilted his head, letting the brim of his hat keep the setting sun off his face. He pulled his bandana up over his chin.