Give Me Tonight Read online

  What have I left behind?

  I didn't die… Leah…

  Adeline, where have you been?

  "Adeline, where have you been?" A boy's voice pierced through the darkness, waking her none too gently. "We've been looking for you everywhere. This really gets me! You were supposed to meet us two hours ago in front of the general store, and instead you decide to disappear. You're lucky I found you before Ben did! He's hit the roof about this, no kidding."

  Addie raised a limp hand to her brow and opened her eyes. There appeared to be a small crowd of people standing over her. Bright sunlight seemed to bore right through her skull. Her temples were pounding with the worst headache she'd ever had, and the boy's impatient monologue wasn't helping. She wished someone would hush him up.

  "What happened?" she mumbled.

  "You fainted right outside the tobacco store," the boy said with disgust.

  "I… I'm dizzy. I'm hot-"

  "Don't use the sun as an excuse. If that isn't just like a girl. Faintin' all over the place whenever they're in trouble, and then everyone has to feel sorry for 'em. No use pretendin' with me. I know a real faint when I see one, and this didn't come up to scratch."

  Addie opened her eyes wider and glared at him wearily. "You are the worst-mannered boy I've ever met. Your parents should be talked to about this. Where is your mother?"

  "She's your mother too, and she's at home, blockhead." The boy, who could not have been over thirteen or fourteen, took hold of her arm with a surprisingly strong grasp and tried to haul her to her feet.

  "Just who do you think you are? " Addie demanded, resisting his efforts to pull her up and wondering why the gawking people around them did nothing to interfere with the boy's assault on her.

  "Your brother, Cade. Remember?" he inquired in tones saturated with sarcasm, and tugged her arm until she struggled to her feet and looked at him with astonishment. What an insane thing to say. Was this a joke? Or was he crazy? He was a stranger. But the sight of him was curiously familiar. With a sense of amazement, Addie realized she had seen him somewhere before. He was taller than she was, sturdy-limbed, glowing with the pent-up energy of an adolescent boy. Cade, if that was his name, was a handsome youth with shiny gold-brown hair and rich brown eyes. The shape of his face, the curve of his mouth, the tilt of his head… she knew it all.

  "Y-you look like me," she stammered, and he grunted.

  "Yeah. My bad luck. Now, come on. We gotta leave. "

  "But Leah… " Addie started, and despite her bewilderment, she felt her eyes sting with remembered grief. "Leah-"

  "What are you talking about? Leah's at home. What are you cryin' for?" Immediately the boy's voice softened. "Adeline, don't start leakin' all over the place. I'll handle Ben, if that's what you're worried about. He's got every right to be mad, but I won't let him yell atcha. "

  Only half-hearing his words, Addie turned to look at the end of the street, wondering how she had gotten from her front porch to the middle of town. And then her heart stopped, and her grief over Leah's death was swamped by a wave of shock. The house was gone. The house Leah had brought her up in had disappeared. There was only empty space where it had once been.

  "What's happened?" She put her hands over her chest to slow down the violent thunder of her heart. Nightmare, She was still in a nightmare. Her eyes wandered swiftly over the scene, searching for familiar things, finding only a trace here and there of the Sunrise she had known. Even the air smelled different. The paved street was a dirt road now, gouged with deep holes and thousands of hoofprints. The shiny Ford automobiles had disappeared, and there were only horses and wagons lined up in front of the woodenplank sidewalk.

  The sedate little stores were gone, and… why, the whole street was practically nothing but saloons. Saloons! What about Prohibition? Had they just decided to ignore the law? No electric signs, no movie palace, no bakery, no strings of telephone wires along the street. Sunrise was nothing but gaudy painted signs and rickety storefronts… and the people… Good Lord, the people! It looked like they were all at a costume party.

  The few women she could see had piled their hair on their head in heavy masses, and they wore long, cumbersome dresses with high necks and tight collars. There were cowboys everywhere, wearing sugar-loaf sombreros or low-crowned plainsman hats, soiled bandannas, heavy batwing chaps, spurs with filed-down rowels, boots with arches and pointed toes. Heavily bearded and mustached cowboys, weighted down with firearms and pouches of ammunition.

  A half-circle of them stood right around Cade and Addie, hats held respectfully in their hands, staring at Addie with fascination, respect, and something approaching awe. The strangeness of the scene frightened her. She had lost her mind, or they were all playing a trick on her.

  Let me wake up soon, oh, please let me wake up. I'll face anything rather than this. Just let me wake up so I know I'm not crazy.

  Why are you lookin' around like that?" Cade demanded, taking her elbow and pulling her off the plank sidewalk into the street. He had to shoulder through the group of cowboys, who muttered expressions of concern until he said impatiently, " 'S all right. She didn't really faint. She's just fine."

  Numbly Addie allowed him to lead her down the street. "We gotta find Ben," Cade said, sighing heavily. "He's been lookin' for you at this end of town. God Almighty, he must be hoppin' mad by now."

  "Cade… " There was only one Cade she had ever heard of, and that was Leah's uncle. But Leah's uncle was an elderly gentleman who lived in the Northeast, a respected lawyer. Surely he had no connection with this impudent boy. She spike the name that was on the tip of her tongue, deciding at this point that there was nothing to lose. "Cade Warner?"

  "Yes, Adeline Warner?"

  No. No! I'm Addie Peck. Adeline Warner was my great-aunt-she disappeared fifty years ago. Oh, yes, I'm dreaming. But was Ben Hunter a dream too? Was Leah's death a dream?

  "Where are we going?" she managed to ask, stifling a distraught laugh as she realized that she, too, was dressed in the confining clothes she had seen on the other women. She was swathed in a pink dress that pinched tightly at the waist. It was hard to walk in such heavy skirts.

  "We're going home as soon as we can find Ben. Why were you two hours late? Flirting again? I don't mind you kickin' up your heels, but don't do it on my time again. I had stuff to do today!"

  "I wasn't flirting."

  "Then what were you doing?"

  "I don't know. I don't know what's going on." Her voice cracked. Cade looked at her sharply, seeming to notice for the first time how pale she was.

  "You feelin' all right, Adeline?" But she had no time to reply, because they came to a halt in front of a cast-iron-and-wood buggy with wicker seats, fancier than the other vehicles on the street, and Cade was helping her into it. "Just sit here while I go look for him," he directed. The wicker seat creaked as she settled into it, and she gripped the side of the buggy, hanging her head and breathing deeply. "I'll be back in a minute," Cade said.

  As he left, she concentrated on fighting the nausea that was building inside of her. There was a distinct possibility she was going to lose the battle. Nightmare or not, I'm about to be sick. She looked around, and it seemed that everyone was staring at her. No, I can't. I can't let myself give in to it. By sheer force of will, Addie managed to conquer the waves that had started to rise from her stomach.

  "Here she is." She heard Cade's purposely cheerful voice and lifted her head to look at him. Her heart stopped beating as she saw a dark figure swing into the buggy seat and take the reins in one hand. She couldn't move, she was frozen right in her place as the man turned back to pin her with cold green eyes.

  Oh, God, it's him, she thought, terrified. But it can't be. He's supposed to be an old man.

  "Have a nice time?" he asked softly, not seeming to expect an answer.

  Her throat clenched with fear. He continued to give her that hard stare while the low brim of his hat shadowed part of his face, and she went cold all o
ver as she realized that this was Ben Hunter. Ben Hunter, decades ago. She had seen those same green eyes in the face of an old man with long gray hair and a stringy frame. But this man had short-cropped black hair and eyebrows as dark as coal, and broad shoulders that strained the seams of his cotton shirt. He was cleanshaven, young, hard-faced.

  Murderer.

  "I think she feels kinda sick," Cade volunteered, hopping into the back beside Addie.

  "Good."

  Ben turned around and flicked the reins, and the buggy started forward with a jerk. Addie clung to her seat, her eyes dilated as she stared at him, just barely noticing they were heading out of town. Several minutes of strained silence followed, while Addie's shock increased with each rotation of the buggy wheels.

  Questions flew through her mind too quickly to be cataloged. She watched the countryside roll by, land that was raw and fresh, unrefined. All the houses that should have been there were gone. Sunrise was a little outcrop in the middle of endless miles of land, prairie land that spread wide and unbroken toward the west, whispering quietly beneath the sound of the horse's hooves and the buggy wheels.

  Where were the buildings, the roads, the automobiles, the people? She clasped her shaking hands together, wondering what was happening to her, and suddenly Cade took one of her hands. Startled, she let her fingers remain motionless in his, and she felt the warm clasp tighten.

  Looking up quickly, she met his lively brown eyes, the same color as her own. There was casual affection in his expression, as if she truly were his sister. How could he look at her that way? He didn't even know her.

  "Blockhead," Cade whispered, and smiled before giving her a poke in the ribs. She didn't even flinch, but continued to stare at him. Ben must have heard the whisper, for he turned around and looked at Addie in a way that sent a chill down her back.

  "Not that it matters much to you, but I'd planned on being back at the ranch by now." Ben's voice was taut with exasperation.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, dry-mouthed.

  "I figure looking for you for two hours entitles me to know what the hell you were doing."

  "I… I don't know."

  "You don't know," he repeated, his temper exploding. "Of course you don't know. God knows what possessed me to think you did."

  "Ben, she's not feeling good,” Cade protested, keeping Addie's hand securely in his. Although he was just a boy, she felt a surprising amount of comfort in his presence.

  "It's all right," she said to Cade, keeping her voice steady with an effort. "I don't care what he says."

  "Typical," Ben snapped, turning his attention back to the dirt road in front of them. "You don't care about what anyone says. In fact, I can list on one hand the things you do care about. Dances. Dresses. Men. That's fine, since in the whole scheme of things it doesn't matter what you choose to do with your time. But I draw the tine at the point when you start to interfere with the running of the ranch, infringing on my time and causing delays for everyone else. Did it ever occur to you that your closets full of clothes and your other extravagances are related to the amount of work that gets done on the ranch?"

  "Ben," Cade said, "you know nobody can understand you when you get started with all those fancy words-"

  "I understood everything he said," Addie interrupted, her terror lessening. Whether this was a dream or not, Ben Hunter was only a man. A dirty, cowardly man who had brutally killed her great-grandfather. She stared at him with loathing in her eyes. "I also understand that he has no right to give me a lecture about anything, not after what he's done."

  "What are you talking about?" Ben's sharp glance silenced her immediately. Her spurt of bravery dried up, and she was speechless for several minutes, cowed into silence.

  As they came to the edge of Warner land, a line rider rode up to greet them, and Ben exchanged a curt nod with him. Despite his mustache, the rider appeared to be only a few years older than Cade, and utterly bored with his duty of chasing down strays and keeping neighbors' animals off Warner property. Sooner or later every cowboy had to take his turn at line riding.

  "How's everything?" Ben asked, tilting his hat back on his head and regarding the boy quizzically.

  "Pretty good. Branded a calf today, one somebody missed durin' roundup."

  "One of ours?"

  The boy shrugged. "Most likely it strayed from the Double Bar. But they took one of ours last fall." Respectfully he touched the brim of his hat as he looked at Addie. "Miss Adeline."

  As the cowboy rode off, Addie stared at Cade with wide eyes. "But putting the Sunrise brand on someone else's calf is stealing."

  "Aw, Addie, you know an unbranded calf is fair game. Besides, you heard him. They took one of ours last fall. Now everything's fair."

  "It isn't right-" she persisted, and Ben cut her off tersely.

  "At the very least, it'll teach the Double Bar to keep their strays off our home grass."

  "I'd expect those kinds of standards from you," she replied stiffly. "But to teach a boy Cade's age that stealing is right… it's criminal."

  Suddenly Ben smiled. There was a malicious glint in his eyes as he glanced at her over his shoulder. "Just how do you think your father got his start in the ranching business, Miss Adeline?"

  "My father?" she repeated, and flushed with confusion.

  But I don't have a father.

  "Yes, your father. He started out by working for another rancher and collecting his own little herd of rustled strays. Ask him sometime. He'll admit it without a second thought. "

  Cade seemed unruffled by the information. Apparently he had heard it before. What kind of men were these? What kind of morality was this? Addie averted her eyes from both of them, wondering at the easy way in which Ben had cut her down. Apparently he had known her long enough to have developed a distinct dislike for her, enough to feel comfortable in mocking her. In his eyes there was no respect for her, nothing but coldness.

  The buggy traveled parallel to a gentle stream, and it was miles before any buildings were in sight. The main house was a three-story structure that dominated the center of the Sunrise Ranch, an elegant building with fluttering white lace curtains and a wide porch. To the right there were a corral and a large bunkhouse, to the- left a considerable number of buildings and sheds. It looked like a small town in itself. The scene was liberally dotted with hired hands, horses, and a frisky dog. The sounds of woodchopping and tuneless singing mingled with the shouts and noises that accompanied the busting of a pony in the corral.

  The buggy stopped in front of the main house, and Addie was motionless, paralyzed with bewilderment. What now? What was expected of her? Cade hopped out and stood by the side of the vehicle to help her down.

  "Come on and get out," he said, grinning at her encouragingly. "You know Daddy won't be mad for long. Not at you. Hurry up, I've got things to do."

  "Stay with me," she said quickly, clinging to his arm after she had descended from the buggy. His was the only friendly face she saw, and she would rather have him near her than be alone.

  Cade pulled his arm away from her, however, and started off toward the corral. "Let Ben take you in," he said over his shoulder. "I think that's what he plans to do anyway."

  "Damn right it is," came Ben's hard voice behind her, and before Addie could flinch away, her upper arm was compressed in a steely grip. "Let's go have a talk with Daddy, Miss Adeline."

  She shuddered at his touch, finding it repulsive, but he propelled her up the steps and across the porch with an easy twist of his hand. Addie could sense his considerable strength as he ignored her attempt to resist him. He opened the front door without knocking, and she caught a glimpse of walnut paneling and rich velvet pile carpets before she was pulled to a room that appeared to be the library. There was a combination of masculine scents in the room, saddle oil and cigar smoke, leather and wood.

  "Russ? Ben said, releasing Addie's arm as the man in the library turned to face them. "I thought you'd be here."

  "Yo
u're back late," Russell Warner replied. He looked like an older version of Cade, though his honeybrown hair was frosted with silver and he had a thick, close-trimmed mustache. He was a robust man with healthy coloring and a well-groomed appearance. Some men wore their authority naturally, as if its weight made no impression on their shoulders. Russell was of that class. He was a man who had been born to lead others. As he looked at Addie fondly, his eyes twinkled. "Looks like my baby's led someone on a wild-goose chase again." There was a painful thumping in Addie's chest as she stared at him.

  This is my great-grandfather. And he thinks I'm his daughter. They all think I'm Adeline Warner.

  She heard nothing of the conversation between the two men, just stood there quietly, exhausted from emotional strain, sick of the nightmare, and wanting nothing more than for it to be over. Then she was aware that Russell was speaking to her.

  "Adeline," he said gravely, "this time you went too far. This is serious, honey, and it's time to do some explain in '. Cade and Ben thought somethin' happened to you. What were you doing in town that made you so late?"

  She stared at him dumbly, shaking her head. Should she make up something? Play along with this?

  A new voice entered the conversation, a feminine voice. "What's going on, Russ?"

  Addie spun around to see a woman in the doorway, a slender woman in her late forties. From having seen old pictures of her before, Addie knew that it was May Warner, Russell's wife. She had cornflower-blue eyes and an oval-shaped face that wore a tender expression. Her smooth blond hair was braided in an intricate knot at the nape of her neck, and covered with an indoor cap of lace fastened with a coquettish spray of flowers at the side.