A touch of love Read online

  Edith opened the drawer in the table beside her chair and withdrew a manila folder filled with faded clippings. "His name was Peter Ferrell. He, his wife, and their twin sons disappeared from their home more than two years ago. Maybe you read about it in the Times."

  Aubrey's heart sank as Edith handed her the folder. She glanced through the clippings but the Los Angeles Times printed accounts of so many heartbreaking tragedies she didn't recall the mysterious disappearance of the Ferrell family. ''Perhaps I did at the time, but I don't remember it now."

  "Take the folder with you and look it over. I'm sure it will help you to know everything before you try to contact them."

  So that was it. Aubrey closed the folder and passed it back to Edith. "Many people misunderstand what I do, but training others in the art of following their hearts and trusting their intuition is in fact the opposite of psychic ability. I encourage people to turn their focus inward, to know themselves. A psychic is a person who sees into another's heart. I'm not a psychic, Edith. I can't locate missing persons."

  Edith appeared distressed for a moment, but quickly grew more insistent. "The police are certain my son and

  his family were murdered. Their only suspect was a man named Harlan Caine, a developer in whose company Peter had invested. They had a bitter argument a couple of days before the disappearance, but there are no witnesses, and no evidence has been found to link Caine to the crime. If you have heightened intuition, couldn't you sense the murderer's guilt if you met him?"

  "I sincerely doubt it, but even if I could, my impressions wouldn't be admissible in court." Aubrey sounded truly regretful. "I'm sorry, but what you ask is impossible. I've enjoyed seeing you again, but I must leave now. I really must." Aubrey rose, bent down to give Edith's cheek a light kiss, and then hurried toward the door.

  Undaunted, the elderly woman nodded to her nephew, and Jesse went after Aubrey. He didn't speak until they reached her car. He was impressed by the fact she had refused his aunt's request He had fully expected her to ask for money and to make an elaborate show, then an undoubtedly unsuccessful attempt to locate his cousin.

  "Let me take you to dinner," he offered.

  Ignoring his invitation, Aubrey faced him squarely. "I know you dozed off during the relaxation exercises, but didn't you hear a word I said today?"

  Jesse jammed his hands in his hip pockets and debated the wisdom of revealing the truth. He had heard her clearly enough. He just didn't believe any of it. "I didn't doze off. I was just more relaxed to start with is all. Let's just say meditation and self-actualization aren't as interesting to me as they are to you. The police are stymied on Pete's case. My aunt can't afford detectives on her pension. Maybe she was wrong to believe you had psychic abilities, but hell, I thought it was worth our time to ask.

  "My aunt never has more than a can of soup in the evenings and I'm starving for a steak. Let me take you to

  dinner. I don't think a couple of cookies is sufficient payment for the time you took to come over here."

  Aubrey sighed impatiently. She hadn't meant to be rude, but she found it extremely difficult to be gracious when presented with requests she couldn't fulfill. "Dinner really isn't necessary. Besides, I prefer vegetarian fare."

  Jesse glanced toward the rapidly darkening heavens. / should have knoxvn, he moaned inwardly. 'Til take you to a place that has seafood, too. Do you eat that?"

  "Occasionally, but—"

  Jesse had noted she didn't wear a wedding ring and knew she was definitely the type who would if she were married. "Do you already have a date?"

  "Well, no, but—"

  "We'll take my truck this time," Jesse insisted, and before Aubrey could argue with him she found herself seated in a comfortable leather booth in a dimly lit restaurant three blocks away.

  "Are you certain they serve food here? I thought the Barkley was only a bar."

  "Best food in town," Jesse bragged with a sly grin. He still thought Aubrey had a peculiar way of making a living, but the troubled look in her blue-green eyes as she spoke with his aunt had been too sincere for him to distrust her any longer. "Look, I know I didn't add anything to your class today, and I hope you won't be insulted when I don't show up again next Saturday."

  "I'll send you a refund."

  "No, you needn't bother."

  "It's no bother. You only enrolled in the seminar to have the opportunity to invite me to your aunt's home. Keeping your money would be unethical."

  "Well, if you consider it a question of ethics, then go right ahead and mail me the refund."

  "First thing Monday morning." Aubrey found it difficult

  to see the Barkley's other patrons in the dim light, but she hoped the place wasn't a hangout for the Hell's Angels or some other raucous group she would sooner avoid.

  Jesse saw her apprehensive glance and gave her hand a comforting pat. "Don't go out much, do you?"

  "Not to places like this," Aubrey replied. The truth was she hadn't dated anyone since her divorce had become final the previous October, but she wasn't about to admit that. Of course, this couldn't be considered a real date.

  Their waitress appeared then in a scanty black satin outfit that Aubrey thought was either two sizes two small, or intentionally cut low in the bodice and high on the thigh to titillate the male patrons. Either way, the young woman's outfit made her feel even more out of place.

  "Do you have Perrier?" she asked softly.

  "Of course, hon. Want that with lime?"

  "Please."

  "I'll have the same," Jesse responded when the provocatively dressed woman turned toward him.

  "My Volvo has a stick shift, so I'm certain I could drive your truck home if you'd like to have something to drink.''

  Jesse shook his head and the waitress left their table, but not before giving him her most alluring smile.

  "I quit drinking a couple of years ago," Jesse explained. "It was after I got so drunk at a party that I fell out of a kid's tree house and damn near broke my neck. I thought if I had no more sense than that when I got a few beers in me, I ought to stay off the stuff."

  "I know what you mean," Aubrey admitted with an embarrassed smile. "I have no tolerance for alcohol. I've never fallen out of a tree house, but whenever I drink I get the giggles and can't stop."

  "I'll bet that's something to see."

  "No, it isn't." With his gende teasing, Aubrey felt her natural reserve melting in spite of her best intentions to

  maintain a professional attitude. 'Tm sorry you didn't get anything out of our seminar. Most people really enjoy them. Everyone has too much stress in their lives, and creative imagery is an effective way to dissolve it."

  Jesse's glance swept over her face, knowing the freckles were there even if they didn't show in the dim light. 'Td say I got something out of it," he remarked with a sly grin. "You're here with me now, aren't you?"

  "Well, yes, but—" The waitress returned and Aubrey took a hasty gulp of Perrier rather than return Jesse's stare when it was now so blatantly appreciative. Trisha usually asked her if she had had a nice weekend. She could imagine her assistant's shock if she admitted she had let the cowboy who had come to their seminar pick her up and take her to dinner.

  Jesse was sure Aubrey was blushing. She had run her seminar with a professional polish, but now she seemed so ill at ease that she reminded him of a teenager out on her first date. "How long have you been divorced?"

  "What makes you think I'm divorced?"

  "All the pretty women in California have been divorced at least once. Come on, tell me your story. I'll bet it's far more interesting than the deep breathing exercises we did today."

  Unconsciously Aubrey squared her shoulders. She didn't confide in anyone the personal details of her life, least of all friendly cowboys. "Tell me something about yourself instead. What do you raise on your ranch?"

  "Cattle, but my specialty is producing Brahma bulls for the professional rodeo circuit."

  Aubrey's eyes
widened. "I've always considered rodeo the most brutal of sports. In fact, I'm not sure it even qualifies as a sport anymore. I can understand ranchhands competing against each other for fun, but to ride bulls for money—"

  "Hell, nobody's going to ride bulls for free!" Just the thought made Jesse chuckle. "Rodeo's a sport all right, and an intensely competitive one. If a cowboy isn't in the prize money fairly often, he has to quit and find steady work. That's the most brutal thing about it."

  "Do you ride bulls, or merely raise them?" Aubrey held her breath, suddenly certain she was dining with a mild-mannered maniac.

  "I used to ride until I was forced into retirement by a particularly obnoxious brute who shattered my right knee. Most people think it's the bull's horns that will get you, but it's the hind feet that are the worst. They pack a real wallop, and human knees just aren't designed to take that kind of punishment."

  "Doesn't that tell you something?"

  "Yeah, I know. It's a damn fool way to make a living, but I loved it. I'm sure you wouldn't quit what you're doing just because people called you a fool."

  "Oh, I've been called far worse things, Mr. Barrett."

  "Jesse."

  "Jesse." Aubrey managed a faint smile. "Perhaps we ought to find something less controversial to discuss."

  "All right. I raise a few llamas, too. They're real lovable even if the bulls aren't." He pronounced the Spanish word correctly, making a y of the double 1.

  "Llamas?" she repeated.

  "Yes, they have a lot of personality and they're becoming very popular for pets. Some cities have had to change the zoning laws to allow them, but they're no more trouble than a large dog, and they're a lot more fun."

  "I've seen them at the zoo, but I didn't realize anyone else owned them."

  "I can make you a real good deal on one," Jesse offered with a conspiratorial wink.

  "Sorry, I don't have room. My pool takes up my whole back yard."

  The lots were large in her neighborhood and Jesse could easily visualize her owning an Olympic-size pool. "You live in that big house all by yourself?''

  He had relaxed considerably since they had first spoken that evening, and while Aubrey had too, she still wasn't inspired to break her standing rule about confiding in others. Opening her menu, she was glad to find her eyes had adjusted sufficiently to the dim light to read the flowery script.

  "I thought you were starving. Hadn't we better order?"

  For the second time that day she had slammed the door of her impressive home right in his face, and Jesse reacted far more negatively than he had before."Sure, we're bound to run out of conversation in another couple of minutes anyway."

  Aubrey peeked around the edge of her menu to check his expression and saw instandy by the depth of his scowl that she had hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that with The Mind's Eye being so popular, I've found I have to guard my privacy jealously or people will take advantage of me."

  "Like my aunt and me?"

  "Not exactly," Aubrey contradicted, but her tone lacked conviction.

  Jesse swore under his breath. "So you do think we tried to take advantage of you?"

  "Didn't you? Didn't you use the fact I'd once been a student of your aunt's to get me to her house? She didn't want to see me for old times' sake, but in hopes I could locate her missing son."

  "Her son's body," Jesse corrected sharply. "Everyone is certain Pete and his family are dead."

  4 'Let's not argue.'' Aubrey stuck her nose back in her menu and tried to find the seafood selections.

  Jesse stared at her right hand since that was all he could see. While they were having tea he had noticed she had beautiful hands, with slender fingers and carefully manicured nails coated with a pale pink polish. They were her own nails, too, not the long acrylic daggers that women had all too often raked across his back. A silver ring in the shape of a calla lily was wrapped around her third finger in a graceful swirl. It looked as though it had been custom-made to fit her hand.

  "You're a real strange person, you know that? You talk about following your heart and getting in touch with our higher selves. But all you're really doing is condoning selfishness if you don't give a damn about anyone else."

  Aubrey set her menu aside with deliberate care. "It's not that I'm not concerned about other people. It's just that I've had some bad experiences with people who wished to use my methods to better themselves. I know your aunt was sincere in wanting my help, but there's nothing I can do to locate her missing loved ones. Now can we please just drop this subject and order dinner?"

  Jesse slammed his menu shut, "Fine, I know what I want."

  Had Aubrey driven her Volvo, she would have walked out on him. Unfortunately it had been a long day and she didn't feel like walking back to Edith Pursely's to get her car. She sat back, took a deep breath, and hoped the shrimp scampi would be better than the company.

  branches. Impatient to finish her work, Aubrey batted the obstreperous boughs aside before chopping them short with clean, vicious strokes.

  Amused to have caught her in such an unguarded moment, Jesse decided to wait at the wrought-iron gate until she turned his way. He stood six feet two inches tall without his boots and he guessed Aubrey was about five feet eight. Like most tall women, she had long legs. Hers weren't simply long though, they were also slender and shapely. In fact, they were downright gorgeous.

  Jesse tipped his hat back slighdy. God, how he loved women with legs like hers. He closed his eyes to savor the delicious vision of those lightly tanned limbs wrapped around him. A superbly proportioned pair of legs was definitely worth concentrating on, but he knew Aubrey wouldn't be pleased if he confessed that was the only type of creative imagery he considered worthwhile.

  "Mr. Barrett?"

  Jesse's head came up with a jerk. "Good afternoon, ma'am." He thought he had recovered quite nicely from his momentary lapse of manners, but Aubrey continued to regard him with a quizzical stare and failed to invite him to come into her patio. From the far corner of the yard a small, blonde dog came running, barking furiously in a valiant attempt to make up for its failure to alert Aubrey to Jesse's presence.

  Ignoring the ferocious imp that more closely resembled an animated mop than a hound, Jesse favored Aubrey with the wide grin he had found to be enormously effective at melting feminine resistance. "I tried your bell," he called out.

  "Sorry, I can't hear it back here."

  Jesse waited as she laid down her clippers and removed her gloves before approaching the gate. The soft fabric of her pale pink T-shirt hugged her breasts with an alluring

  subtlety he found difficult to ignore. He bet she wore a size 34 bra, or maybe even a 36, but definitely a C cup. He knew inches weren't all that important. It was the heaviness of a full breast as he cradled it in his palm that mattered most.

  Aubrey misread her visitor's lust-filled expression completely. "Are you feeling illP" * She swung open the gate and motioned for him to come inside. "I was about to take a break and have some iced tea. Would you like some?"

  As she turned away Jesse was treated to a spectacular view of the slow, undulating motion of her hips as she preceded him up the walk. He couldn't take his eyes from the trim curve of her butt. Her bikini bottom had the high-cut French legs and he wished she would remove her T-shirt so he could fully appreciate her slim figure. When they had parted after a dinner during which neither of them had spoken a single word, he hadn't cared if he ever saw her again. Now he knew he hadn't seen nearly enough. She might be over thirty, but he had seen plenty of eighteen-year-olds who didn't look nearly as good.

  "I'm fine, but tea would be nice, thanks," he finally had the presence of mind to reply as they reached her side door. The dog was still barking, running around them in circles, and when Aubrey bent over to pat the furry pooch, Jesse had to wipe his mouth to keep from drooling. Knowing Aubrey Glenn was definitely not the type of woman who could be grabbed from behind when she bent over to shush
her dog didn't keep him from wanting to do just that. He jammed his hands in his hip pockets when he couldn't think of a better way to fight the impulse.

  Jesse didn't understand what had gotten into him that day but he hadn't been so damn horny since his sophomore year in high school. Maybe it was just the fact it had been more than a week since he had slept with a woman. For him, that was a major deprivation. That was it, he

  decided. He was suffering from withdrawal symptoms, nothing more. Aubrey was very attractive, but certainly not irresistible. Or at least she wouldn't have been had he had another woman handy. Unfortunately, he didn't.

  *'Guinevere is all bark and no bite," Aubrey assured him. "You needn't be afraid of her."

  4 'Me? Afraid of that pitiful excuse for a dog? No way."

  "Of course," Aubrey replied as she straightened up. "A man who rides bulls for sport would never be afraid of a mere dog."

  Jesse doubted that she was teasing him, but responded with a smile as though she were. "You guessed it." Even without an invitation, he followed her through the screen door into a sunny breakfast room separated from the kitchen by a cooking island. While he knew the house was far from new, it appeared to have been recendy remodeled. Decorated in powder blue and white with delicate floral wallpaper, the two adjoining rooms were spotless.

  "You like to cook?" he asked.

  Aubrey had already taken two glasses from the cupboard and opened the freezer compartment to get the ice. "Not anymore."

  Jesse waited for her to elaborate, but as usual she did not. "I know what you mean," he volunteered, although she hadn't given him a clue. "I like to cook for company, but not just for myself. I've found several microwave dinners that aren't half bad."

  Aubrey took the pitcher of tea from the refrigerator and filled their glasses. She then added lemon slices and sprigs of fresh mint. "I try to avoid processed food myself. Let's go back outside. It's too pretty a day to sit indoors."