CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

C AIN WATCHED THE BEDROOM DOOR OPEN AND INWARDLY GROANED as Jenny stumbled into the living room.

"Well, hello there." Nell's smile held the welcome of a mama tiger protecting her cub.

"Umm . . . hello." Jenny was fresh out of the shower, her hair still damp, her face free of makeup. She looked delectable. After last night, the sight shouldn't have made him want her again, but it did.

"My grandmother wasn't supposed to get here until this afternoon," Cain grumbled, tossing a dark look at Nell. "I could hardly toss her out."

"Of course not," Jenny said.

"Besides, I knew it wouldn't be long before she figured out something was going on between us." Not that he knew exactly what that something was—aside from incredible sex and this over-protective feeling he had toward Jenny.

"I think I see a coffeepot over on the bar," Nell said from her perch on the sofa. "Why don't you go get dressed? I imagine I can persuade Jenny to make us a cup."

Cain didn't argue. He had learned not to argue with Nell Barrett when he was six years old. He hated throwing Jenny to the wolves in the guise of a sweet old lady, but he had a feeling Jenny could handle it.

Cain smiled as he closed the bedroom door.

Figuring she had no choice, Jenny brewed a pot of coffee and found two cups in a cabinet over the wet bar. "Black, if I recall."

"That's right."

Same way Jenny drank it. Neither of them had led a pampered life. Maybe black, no-frills coffee was a symbol.

"So you and my grandson . . ." Nell blew over the surface of the steaming brew to cool it, then took a healthy swallow.

Jenny just sipped her coffee. There was no way she could deny Nell's insinuation.

"All right," Nell said. "I'll tell you the truth. As soon as I realized my grandson had a woman in his bedroom, I wanted to find out who she was. He might be a grown man, but he's still my boy. I was just hoping it wasn't that Millicent woman or that schemer Anna Hobbs."

Jenny's chin came up. "I don't think he's seeing either one of them." Or he'd better not be. Jenny had no idea what was happening between her and Cain, but for the brief time they were together, she wasn't about to share.

"I can see by the look in your eyes that would be a deal-breaker for you."

"For the time we're together, yes."

"Good for you." Nell sipped her coffee. "Actually, I'm a little surprised to see you here. Perhaps my warning was too subtle."

"If you think I'm expecting wedding bells and picket fences, you're wrong. Along with your warning, my brother made me well aware of Cain's track record. What you don't know is I was married before, and it was a disaster. Marriage no longer holds any appeal for me."

Jenny set her mug down on a coaster on the coffee table. "You told me the truth, so I'll do the same. My husband and I were not . . . that is, we were not . . . sexually compatible. I thought it was my fault, that I just didn't like sex. Then I met Cain."

"Well, now, this is finally getting interesting."

Jenny steeled herself. Nell wanted to know what was going on, and though it was really none of the older woman's business, Jenny knew how much Nell meant to Cain, so she would tell her.

"I was attracted to Cain from the start. That was several months ago, when he began coming into the saloon. I stayed away from him on purpose. People talked about him. I knew his reputation with women. But he never came on to me, never used the same old, worn-out lines my male customers tossed out."

"Certainly not. My boy has higher standards than that."

"Cain offered me a job. I needed the money, so I took it. And the job presented a challenge. I hadn't realized I was missing that in my life."

"So you went to work for him." Nell sipped her coffee. "And something changed."

"That's right. Things started happening, crazy things, stuff spinning out of control at the hotel. Cain always seemed to be there when I needed him. Not once, but over and over. There's a chance he saved my life."

Nell nodded. "The night you were attacked."

"Yes. The way things were going, anything could have happened."

"So you're here out of gratitude."

Anger surged. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Jenny took a steadying breath. This was Cain's grandmother, the person he loved most in the world.

"Cain fought for me. I'll always be grateful for that, but that isn't the reason I'm here." In his suite, in his bed. "When I realized Cain was also attracted to me, I decided to take a chance, find out something about myself."

One of Nell's silver eyebrows went up. "What was that?"

"I found out I'm a normal, red-blooded female, with normal female desires. I'm not the cold woman my husband made me believe I was. Whatever happens, I'll always be thankful to Cain for helping me figure that out."

Nell leaned back on the sofa, a wide smile breaking over her wrinkled face. "Bravo, Jenny Spencer. You have more gumption than I first thought." Her smile widened. "Now all we have to do is hope my grandson is smart enough to appreciate what he's got."

Jenny said nothing, just rose from the sofa, carried her mug over to the wet bar, and set it in the stainless sink.

"I'm afraid I have to go. I'm late already, and I have a ton of things to do. I'm sure Cain will get you settled in."

Nell tried to push herself up from the sofa.

"No, please don't do that," Jenny said. "I know the way out." She smiled. "Cain has a private elevator, so I can escape out the back. I won't have to embarrass myself any more than I have already."

Nell laughed. "I hope I'll be seeing more of you, Jenny Spencer."

Jenny thought about their conversation and smiled, discovering, as she had before, that she liked the older woman. "I hope so, too." So what if Nell was protective of Cain? She had raised him. She was the only mother he had ever known; she had every right to be.

Jenny tried to imagine what she would be like as a mother. There was a time before Richard when she had wanted children. She could only hope she would have done as good a job raising a child as Nell had done with Cain.

Towing her overnight bag, Jenny rode the elevator down to the parking lot and started walking across the asphalt, down the hill to the Copper Star.

* * *

Cain sat across from his grandmother and her caretaker in the dining room, having lunch. Nell and Emma were both settled in their new rooms. Emma had helped Nell unpack. There would be more boxes coming, but the basics were here.

Things were beginning to move along more swiftly in the hotel. The dining room was finished; the distant hammering and orders shouted by the men were coming from another area.

Opal was cooking, trying out different recipes, some of which Jenny had suggested, meals people consistently liked to order or happy-hour snacks that were cheap and easy to make. Done right, she said, there could be a great profit margin there.

"I like your Jenny," Nell said as she delicately picked at the chicken Caesar salad Opal had prepared for her, while Cain and Emma lunched on Swiss-and-mushroom burgers.

"She isn't my Jenny," Cain said. "Not exactly. We're dating, just like two ordinary people."

" Dating isn't exactly your style, Cain. I hope you realize your Jenny is a one-man woman. She expects you to be a one-woman man. At least, as she put it, for as long as it lasts."

Cain set his fork down next to his plate, not the heavy, black pottery dinnerware Millicent had insisted they use, but a lighter, more easily handled version, thanks to Jenny.

"I'm not interested in anyone else," he said. "If I start to feel an attraction for another woman, I'll end things with Jenny. I don't intend to do anything that would hurt her."

"I assume that goes both ways. If Jenny gets interested in another man, she'll just tell you, and you'll acquiesce to her wishes and let her go on her merry way."

An image surfaced of Jenny naked in his bed this morning, her long, golden brown curls spread over his pillow. The notion of another man touching her, kissing her, making love to her, sparked a red haze behind his eyes.

"What other choice would I have?" he said, deliberately keeping his voice even.

"I don't know. I guess you could fight for her. Oh, that's right. You already have."

Cain shoved back his chair. "I don't know what kind of bee you have in your bonnet, but my love life is none of your concern. It never has been, and it never will be. I love you dearly, but I have a life of my own."

He rose from his chair and spoke to Emma. "If you need anything, you both have my cell. More staff will be arriving today. You'll be able to get meals served in your rooms or come down here, whichever you prefer."

He rounded the table, leaned down, and kissed his grandmother's powdered cheek. "I'll see you both at supper. With luck, Jenny will be joining us. I hope you'll keep your opinions on our relationship to yourself."

Nell just smiled. "Of course, dear."

Cain shot her a look and headed for his suite. He had work to do in his office that would occupy him for the rest of the day. Jenny would be working in the hotel this afternoon. He squashed any thoughts of an hour with her upstairs in his suite. He couldn't afford to let her distract him.

It bothered him to think a woman could cloud his mind and interfere with his work. It had never happened before.

Cain didn't like it.

* * *

Jenny worked through the lunch rush, then headed for her small office in the hotel lobby.

She went over to the stack of journals on top of a file cabinet, picked up a couple, and sat down at her desk. The first ledger was full of the same type of entries as all the others, problems with the room or the bathroom, accounts of hearing noises in the hall or in the room—ghost experiences, the guest believed.

One reported seeing a hazy figure at the foot of the bed that disappeared. Eerie laughter, cold spots, objects moving, and doors opening and closing. She had been hearing those sorts of tales since she was a kid and never given them much thought. But after the unexplained experiences she'd had upstairs herself, she was paying closer attention.

She picked up another journal, this one dated fifteen years ago, and began thumbing through the pages. Her fingers stilled at a lengthy account scrolled delicately in what appeared to be a woman's handwriting.

Mr. and Mrs. Don Dennison October 1 st, , guests in room 10.

Jenny's interest sharpened.

We had a terrifying night. Don and I have been married for twenty years, and I have never seen him behave as he did last night. It was after two in the morning when I awakened to the sound of heavy breathing in the room. Someone is in here, I thought, feeling uneasy, but there was enough moonlight coming in through the window that I could see no one was there.

A ghost, I thought, amused. We had both read stories about Jerome. We thought it would be fun to actually see a ghost. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't even sure I believed in spirits.

The heavy breathing faded, and I started to go back to sleep. That's when I realized Don was awake. He was sitting up in bed right beside me, staring straight ahead.

"Don, are you all right?" I asked.

Don didn't answer. When he turned toward me, his eyes looked black and empty. The way his mouth had flattened out, the way his nostrils flared, he looked like a completely different person.

For the first time, I began to feel afraid. I started to get out of bed, but Don pulled me back down and climbed on top of me. Though he had never acted this way before, I didn't try to stop him. Not until I felt his hands slide up around my throat and he began to choke off my air. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. He was always a gentle lover, but that night he pried my legs apart and forced himself on me.

This wasn't my Don. This man was rough and cruel. It was as if another man had invaded my husband's body. I started crying, tears streaming down my face as I tried to pry his hands away from my throat so I could breathe.

I started whispering his name over and over. Don, please. Don, you're hurting me. Don, I love you.

For the first time, the words seemed to reach him. He started shaking. He looked down at me, at his hands wrapped around my throat, and his eyes widened. A look of horror came over his face, and he jerked away.

"Mary, dear God! Mary! Did I hurt you? Mary, are you all right?" Don knelt on the floor at my side. "Oh, God what have I done?"

I don't know how, but I knew it wasn't his fault. In twenty years, he had never acted this way. I told him we needed to leave. We had to get out of the hotel right this minute. We packed and headed downstairs.

There was no one in the lobby. A green glass lamp on the desk cast dim light into the room, and the journal sat open next to the lamp. I had read pages when we had checked in. While Don went to get the car, I started writing. I want someone to know what happened.

What you are reading is a true and accurate account of what occurred last night in room 10.

* * *

Jenny just sat there. Her muscles felt frozen. She had to force herself to breathe. Dear sweet God.

One thought after another tumbled through her brain. Uncle Charlie had closed that section of the hotel not long after the entry in the journal. Had he read what Mary Dennison had written? Or had something even worse occurred?

She sat another minute, her mind darting from the past to the present, to the murder that had just taken place in the same room. With a steadying breath, she bookmarked the page and closed the journal.

She glanced at her watch. She was past due at the Grandview. Nell Barrett would be there. Nell knew things about Jerome, things that had happened over the years.

Jenny grabbed her purse and the journal and headed for the door.