Give Me Tonight(60)

And then there were the Johnsons, who hated Russell. A lot of outfits would like to get their hands on the Sunrise Ranch, tear down its fences, and take pos­session of its livestock and water rights. Just about everyone around, in fact. But more than anyone else, the Double Bar did. Maybe the Johnsons were in on the murder.

She stopped in her tracks as she remembered Jeff's words again. "He's riding too high these days, honey . . . don't you worry, it won't be long . . ."

That was a threat, plain and simple. There was little doubt in her mind that Jeff and Big George wanted Russell out of the way just as much as Ben did. Were they all planning it together?

"No." She shook her downbent head in confusion. "Ben hates the Johnsons. He'd never plan anything with them. And he loves Russell. He wouldn't kill him. I can't believe he would." She didn't want to believe it.

But Russell would have to be killed by an insider, someone who knew about his sleeping habits and which room was his, and how to get through the house. Someone who didn't have to get past the line riders that protected the property around the clock. It had to be Ben, especially since-according to history-he would leave town after the murder and never come back.

"Oh, Ben, that's not you. It's not you." She leaned against the wall and bit her lip.

Strong hands, touching her gently, coaxing purest fire to blossom inside her. "I want you to remember this. Remember every time you think of me. "

Why is this happening to me?" she whispered in agony. "What have I done to be put through this? I'm still Addie Peck . . . but I'm Adeline Warner too. I'm remembering things from two different lifetimes, and I don't know which me is real." She fell silent as she saw the small figure stirring on the other bed, looking like a lump under the sheets. Leah had awakened.

"Aunt Adeline?" she said sleepily.

"Yes, Leah?" Slowly Addie walked over to her, trying to compose herself.

In I930, Leah said that Aunt Adeline had been a schemer, materialistic and selfish. The memory of Aunt Adeline had made Leah uneasy. Why? What had Leah seen or heard to make her feel that way?

The child yawned and rolled over, staring at her with heavy-lidded eyes. "What are you walkin' around for?"

"I'm sorry I bothered you. I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about a hundred things, and I just had to get up."

"What were you thinkin' about?"

"Someone."

"I saw you go off with Jeff Johnson today," Leah said, those dark eyes losing all traces of sleepiness. "You're thinkin' about him, aren't you?"

"You saw me with . . . but . . . I thought all the children were playing by the corral."

"I came back early. I was followin' you and Mama into the house, and then you stopped an' sneaked off with Jeff Johnson. Mama said I shouldn't tell anyone, or you'd get it from Grampa."

"Yes, I would," Addie said ruefully. "I'd rather you didn't tell anyone. Why are you wrinkling your nose like that?"

"Why'd you sneak off with him?"

"I had to talk with him, Leah."

The girl wrinkled her nose again, as if she had smelled something unpleasant. "Oh."

"What's the matter? You don't like Jeff? Why not?"

"You told me not to say why."

"Oh . . . I. . ." Addie paused and looked down at her, while curiosity leapt inside her. "I don't remem­ber telling you that, Leah."

"You said it was our secret."

It took all of Addie's strength to swallow down her sudden raging impatience and keep from shaking the secret out of the child. She smiled and sat down on the bed, keeping her tone light. "Well, if you don't refresh my memory, I really won't be able to get to sleep. Why would I forget such a thing? Tell me what our secret is. "

"Aunt Adeline, I'm tired—"

"Tell me, and then we'll both be able to go to sleep."

"Don't you remember? I was hidin' under the ve­randa, and you and Jeff were in the porch swing, talkin'. "

"Was it in the morning or evening?"

"Evenin'."

"Was it a long time ago, or a short time?"

"Short time," Leah said solemnly.

"What were we saying?"

"You were talkin', real quiet, tellin' Jeff things about Grampa and Ben . . . and . . ."

"And what?"

"And a will. Grampa's will. And I made a noise, and you got real mad when you saw I was there. Don't you remember?"

"I . . . maybe a little." Addie closed her eyes, feel­ing dizzy. Russell's will.

Rushing down the porch steps, grabbing the frozen, dumbstruck child by the shoulders, hearing her own voice, soft and terrible in its icy rage. "What did you hear? What did you hear?" And then, gentle and ca­joling and cunning: "Don't cry, Leah. I've decided you're a big girl now, old enough to share a grown-up secret. What you heard is our secret, Leah . . . and you can't tell anybody . . ."

That was all she could remember.

"What was I saying about Grampa and Ben?"

Leah turned her face to the wall. "I don't want to talk about it."