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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Soul Dreams

  Copyright © 2012 by Desiree Holt

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-433-1

  Cover art by Scott Carpenter

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

  Look for us online at:

  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Also by Desiree Holt

  Joy Ride

  1Night Stand Stories

  Night Mission

  He Came Upon a Midnight Clear

  The Edge - Valentino’s Delight

  Lust Becomes You

  Naughty Sleepover

  Overnight Sensation

  Soul Dreams

  A Western Escape

  By

  Desiree Holt

  ~DEDICATION~

  To my wonderful CP, Cerise Deland, who lets me burble in her ear interminably and reads my typo-ridden drafts, who lets me bounce plots off her fabulous brain and always seems to know where I’m going even when I don’t.

  This one and all the others are for you.

  Chapter One

  Nina Foster finished rearranging a shelf to make room for new Books and More stock, all the while casting glances at her computer screen.

  It chimes when you get a message, idiot. Staring at it won’t help. Besides, what are the chances it will be him again? You don’t even know him, for pity’s sake. Or anything about him.

  What she did know was a man who called himself Blake Massie had found her website and begun ordering books. There was nothing odd about the fact in and of itself. Since she’d set up an Internet site for the store, she’d been overloaded with online business. Half of them were for e-books, but a lot of people still like the printed word. And she’d learned people using the website enjoyed the convenience of it, especially if the store was far away. Nearly every day, the express delivery truck pulled up to her back door for another load of packages.

  She peered over her shoulder at the computer again. What made Blake Massie different was he lived in Freewill. He could just walk into the store himself and pick out what he wanted. Instead, he ordered from her, always online and never by phone.

  Why doesn’t he come in like most of the locals do?

  Most of her orders she received via the computer came from people who lived too far out of town to make the trip, something she understood. But even when the locals ordered that way, they came in to pick up their purchases. People liked her conversation corner with its coffee and cocoa and fresh baked cookies. Why didn’t Blake do that?

  The bell at the front door jingled, startling her from her reverie, and she glanced up to see the huge presence of Sheriff Hawk Blackwater. He pulled off his gloves and rubbed his hands together.

  “Damn, it’s cold out there.”

  Nina smiled at him. “No kidding. I can’t believe there are any crooks running around in this weather.”

  Hawk chuckled. “Even idiots know enough to stay in when the temperature hovers near zero.” He walked over to where she was working. “Bet the delivery truck driver was cursing when he brought these today.”

  “You bet. But I really needed this shipment in time for Christmas.”

  He scanned the calendar on the wall behind her. “Hell, it’s more than six weeks until then. People shopping already?”

  She nodded, lifting a small stack of books onto the counter. “Absolutely. Used to be Thanksgiving was the official start of shopping. These days people are out shopping right after Halloween. And I want to be ready for them. Although I won’t decorate for Christmas for a couple of weeks yet.” She brushed back a stray hair from her forehead. “Can I help you with something? Need a book for Riley?”

  Hawk’s wife of one year was six months pregnant, and everyone in the county knew he’d carry her around on a cushion if he could. Nina couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a couple as ecstatically happy. Riley had been running from a fiancé who wanted to kill her, and Hawk had been trying to solve the riddle of the mysterious lights that came and went in the foothills of the Laramie Mountains. When their two situations intersected, he’d been the one to save her, and they were married soon after.

  In the five years since Nina settled in Freewill, she’d been sociable to everyone but never let anyone get close. She refused all offers from local men to take her out and kept everything light. With everyone.

  But she and Riley had connected from the moment the woman first walked into Books and More. Nina’s parents had been killed in an auto accident the year after she left Forrester Literary Agency. Riley and Hawk were the closest thing to family she had, and she treasured their friendship.

  “Hawk?” she said. He was staring at a new book about the history of Wyoming. “Book? For Riley?”

  “Oh, yeah. Actually, yes. Some more of those romances she loves so much, if you’ve got any new ones in.” He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t think I’d be any good at picking them out.”

  Nina laughed. “No problem. But can I make a suggestion? You should get her an e-reader.” She picked one up from a shelf display. “Much easier to carry around, and you can load it with hundreds of books.”

  He took the thin device from her, studying it from all angles. “You know, she mentioned she’d like to have one of these.” He grinned. “Maybe I’ll give her an early Christmas present.”

  “I’m hooked into a lot of Internet distributors,” Nina told him. “How about if I load it with some books I know she’d like?”

  “Good enough. While you’re doing that, I’ll help myself to some of your tasty hot chocolate if you don’t mind.”

  “Go on ahead. I just made some fresh.”

  She knew her special coffees, hot chocolate, and cookies were as much an attraction as the books and gifts she sold. As she started to put Hawk’s order together, the computer dinged.

  Nina stared at the IM signature on the screen.

  Blake.

  Why doesn’t he have an Internet ID like most users do? Is it possible I’m the only one he does this with, so he feels no need to disguise himself? She tried to still the little flutter in her stomach as she opened the instant message.

  Blake: Your choices for me continue to be right on target.

  She took a deep breath and replied.

  Booklady: Thank you. It’s hard making choices for someone when you can’t talk to them.

  Blake: We’re talking.

  Booklady: Not so much. How about face-to-face?

  There was a long pause, and she was afraid she’d somehow ticked him off. As she was trying to think of what to say, words suddenly scrolled across the screen.

  Blake: Things are fine the way they are. What do you have for me today?

  Nina sighed. One of these days she would either convince him to talk to her or barrel her way into his house. But today, she typed in the titles she’d set aside for him.

  Blake: Good
. Will you deliver them tonight as usual?

  Nina bit back a quick retort. What made him think she’d even bother? It wasn’t as if she’d included personal delivery on her website. But he was a customer, and she didn’t want to antagonize him. Yet.

  Booklady: I may be working late, but I can have someone else bring them.

  Another long pause.

  Blake: No, you. Otherwise cancel the order.

  Nina wanted to smack the computer. Who the hell does this jerk think he is?

  Booklady: All right. I’ll do my best.

  She hit Send and waited, but there were no further messages. So, he flat out expected her to do his bidding? For almost a full minute, she considered actually asking someone else to make the delivery. But she only lived a mile from him, and if nothing else, he was a good customer. She didn’t want to piss him off, at least during the holidays.

  “More orders from the mysterious Blake Massie?” Hawk asked.

  “Yes.” Nina gave an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, the man is a real jerk. Why can’t he call the store? He lives in town, so it isn’t long distance. Or come by and pick out the books himself?”

  The mysterious Blake Massie had become a hot topic of conversation in town.

  “I tried making some inquiries,” Hawk told her, “but the realtor who sold him the old Crider ranch is tighter than Aunt Millie’s girdle.”

  Nina laughed. “You don’t have an Aunt Millie, and no one wears girdles any more.”

  “Well, if I did, she’d wear one.”

  “Seriously, Hawk. Who buys a place like that for cash? And think about all the work he had done on the house. And the huge fence around the house and three acres with an electronic gate. He might as well have giant Keep Out signs.”

  Hawk shrugged and took another swallow of his hot chocolate. “Wherever he came from, he’s part of our community and not giving anyone any problems. That’s all I care about.”

  Nina leaned on the counter. “But aren’t you the teeniest tiniest bit curious about him? And why no one ever sees him, except for the old cowboy who works for him?”

  She recalled his first email message when he placed his order.

  Blake: I’m surprised to find a bookstore so well stocked in this out of the way place.

  She’d wanted to ask him if he thought it was so out of the way, why had he bought a house here. Ticked off, she’d sent him a snarky reply, momentarily unconcerned with saving the sale.

  Booklady: We even have electricity and running water.

  Blake: Sorry. Forgive my lack of manners. Will someone bring the books to my house?

  Deliver the order? She’d gotten very irritated with him.

  Booklady: If you are unable to come to town to pick up what you’ve selected, I suppose I can have someone bring the books to you.

  Then a momentary pang of guilt had struck her. What if he was disabled in some way? But wouldn’t there have been someone to do his errands?

  Blake: Not someone. You.

  Why on earth did he want her to make the delivery herself? But by then her curiosity had been tickled.

  Booklady: Yes. No problem.

  Blake: Thank you.

  Then he’d signed off.

  Somehow, after the initial flurry of emails, they’d exchanged instant message IDs, which was how they now conducted their business. She sometimes thought it strange her most intimate social contact came through the Internet with a man she’d never met.

  “Taking a short nap, Nina?” Hawk’s voice held a touch of humor.

  She blinked, realizing she’d zoned out again. “Oh! Sorry about that. Did you say something?”

  He grinned and picked up a cookie from the plate on the counter. “You asked me if I was curious about the reclusive Blake Massie. I said sure, but unless he breaks the law, I’m stuck with minding my own business. You still carrying his books out to him?”

  “He only lives a mile down the road from me,” she reminded him. “So it’s not really a big deal.”

  “How do you get inside the fortress he’s made out of his place? Or do you leave the package outside the gate?”

  “Of course not.” She reached behind her head to tighten her ponytail, having found it easier to work with her hair back from her face. “They have a camera at the gate. They verify who I am and let me in.”

  Hawk leaned on the counter, munching the cookie. “Then you got to see what the mystery man looks like.”

  “Nope. Sorry.” She loaded books onto the e-reader for Riley. “Some man who’s at least sixty opened the door for me. You know all those books you read in school about the West describing the typical grizzled old rancher? That’s him. Worn jeans, flannel shirt, leather vest, and all.”

  “Lily at the real estate office told me he had someone there with him. The same person who took care of stocking the place. I think his name is Grange.”

  Nine nodded, remembering how mad she’d been when the man took the books from her, thanked her, and shut the door in her face. She’d been tempted to refuse future orders, but she didn’t want to cut off her nose to spite her face.

  “The big question is the reason why he insists I be the one to make the deliveries when he never comes to the door himself. Or even has Grange invite me inside. I could send anyone, and it wouldn’t matter.”

  “Maybe it matters to him,” Hawk pointed out. “His one real link with the outside world. You’re a good person for putting up with it, as long as it doesn’t turn out to be a problem.”

  She shrugged. “Hey, it’s business. He buys expensive books and a lot of them.” She frowned. “I can’t figure out how he reads them so fast.”

  “I guess if you have nothing else to do, reading passes the time.”

  Nina finished loading the books, boxed the e-reader, and rang up the sale.

  “Thanks for this,” Hawk said, sliding his credit card out of his wallet. “I know Riley will appreciate it.”

  “How’s she doing, anyway?”

  Nina didn’t ever remember seeing two people more besotted with each other. She was glad for them, considering the histories they came from. But sometimes she couldn’t help the jealousy creeping into her system.

  Is it possible love has passed me by? I’m thirty-three, for God’s sake. I always wanted the romantic dream. Maybe my two ill-fated relationships are all I’ll ever have.

  The thought depressed her, and she tried to shake it off. Freewill was her sanctuary, and she loved it. She just hoped she hadn’t also made it her prison, a place where she was afraid to step out of the person she’d created.

  I’ll be the old maid bookstore owner. What a cliché.

  “Great.” Hawk signed the receipt and tucked his card away in its slot. “But I think she’ll be happy when this whole thing is over.”

  “I suppose since winter’s here you don’t let her out of the house by herself,” Nina teased.

  “Not unless the roads are plowed and there’s no threat of a storm.” Affection and love sparked in his eyes. “Can’t take chances with my precious cargo there.”

  “And I know she appreciates the care you take with her, especially after the bastard she was engaged to before.”

  “I like to think so.” He took the package from her. “Thanks again for this.” He glanced out the big front window. “You ought to think about leaving soon, Nina. More snow’s predicted for tonight, and you should be home before it hits. I don’t know why the hell you like living so far out of town, anyway.”

  She forced a smile. “I like my own company. You get out of here and go on home to your terrific wife.”

  “Okay, but only if you promise to lock up soon.”

  “I will,” she agreed. “It’s close to closing time, anyway.”

  After he left, she flipped the Open sign to Closed and locked the front door. Open cartons of books still waited to be checked in and shelved, but she figured she’d be better off coming in early in the morning. Besides, if she planned to deliver Blake Massie’s
books before the snow hit, she needed to get a move on.

  As she gathered her jacket and purse, she thought about Hawk’s words. He wasn’t the first person to ask why she’d bought the little house sitting well past the town limits. Her stock answer was she got a good price because the little bungalow had been empty for a long time. The truth was when she’d landed in Freewill, she wanted to be as isolated as possible. Once she’d decided to stay and committed to buying the store, she wanted a place to retreat each day where she wasn’t surrounded by people. A solitary situation wasn’t likely to cause her any pain. She’d had plenty of that.

  Without warning the agonizing memories she’d worked to keep buried came slamming back.

  ***

  Five years ago

  Nina sat at her desk, trying to concentrate on her work and sure life could not possibly be any better. Finally. At twenty-eight, she held a responsible position as a publicist for Forrester Literary Agency. She handled the media and worked book signings and other special appearances for some of the agency’s top authors. She’d come up the hard way, earning her stripes and putting up with excessive tons of bullshit. But Nate Forrester never failed to compliment her on her accomplishments, and her salary showed it. He always told people she had a natural talent and a good set of brains.

  Tom Ridgeway, the agency’s hot new property, was her latest major client. He was a perfect poster boy, tall and rugged, thick brown hair lightly touching his shoulders, and piercing green eyes. He could have been the hero of the thriller they were launching. Just thinking about him made her body heat and go liquid.

  He’d come along at a moment in her life when her confidence in herself was at an all time low. Her fiancé of three years, a financial advisor, had dumped her for the trophy widow of one of his clients. It had taken months for her to put herself back together, her self-assurance badly shaken. The job was all she’d had to cling to. But finally, her life was taking an upward swing. Way up. While working through lunches and dinners and endless interview preps, the chemistry between them had ignited. She’d been so ready, her esteem as a woman so shaken. Tom had been so good at making her feel special again.