Heaven's Gift aka Kiss of an Angel

Chapter Twelve

Caitlan sensed J.T. before she actually heard or saw him. Eyes closed, the hot shower spray rinsed away the last of the soap from her body and hair and pounded the tense muscles across her back. An incredible awareness swelled within her, as if J.T. had reached out and physically caressed her. The shower stall door opened on a soft click and she shivered, not from the cool air rushing in but from the sensual anticipation racing along her spine.

Her lashes fluttered open and she looked at J.T., standing just outside the shower. He was naked and aroused, all sleek strength and firm, hard muscle. Liquid heat fluttered in her belly when his dark gaze slowly, reverently, glided the length of her body, and then back up again. Desire had clouded his eyes by the time he'd finished his visual exploration.

Touched by live flame, she fought the urge to cover herself. She knew what he wanted, knew she should tell him to leave, but her need and love for him eclipsed any semblance of reason or modesty she might have had.

He stepped inside the one-person stall and shut the door. Water droplets bounced off her and clung to his skin. He stood so close she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. So close, his erection brushed her belly like a velvet caress and the tips of her breasts grazed the sprinkling of hair on his chest. Her nipples puckered into exquisitely tight buds, and she resisted the impulse to move even closer and rub against him.

The intense need blazing in his eyes kicked her heart into a heavy beat, reminding her of the desperate way he'd kissed her and held her after pulling her from the barn, as if he never wanted to let her go. Indeed, she hadn't wanted him to release her. At the time she'd rationalized his reaction as an outpouring of adrenaline and fear, but now she sensed his longing ran much, much deeper.

Tentatively, she reached up and touched a streak of soot on his cheek, wiping it away with her wet fingers. He'd put himself in danger by rescuing her from the fire, when it was her job to protect him. A tender ache wove through her.

"You could have died for me," she whispered thickly, her fingers playing over his stubbled jaw.

Catching her wrist, he dragged her hand to his mouth. He placed a kiss in her palm, then nipped at the flesh just below her thumb. "I would have, if it meant saving you." His voice vibrated with emotion.

The love in his gaze was unmistakable, echoing her own feelings for him. In that moment she knew she'd take whatever he would give her. Tonight she didn't want to think… she wanted to feel everything J.T. had to offer.

Curling her hand around the back of his head, she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him without restraint. Water sluiced over them and she pressed her body to his, sliding her slick, naked breasts against his chest.

He growled deep in his throat. Wrapping his arms around her back, he pulled her closer, returning the deep, tongue-tangling kiss with fervor.

And then it wasn't enough for Caitlan. She trembled. She ached. She burned for his touch. Her medallion tingled hot against her skin, but she ignored the radiant sensation for the excitement surging the length of her body.

His lips left hers and trailed down the side of her throat to her collarbone, his tongue lapping the water from her skin. When the wet heat of his mouth closed over a turgid nipple, suckling her deeply, her need mounted. He paid homage to both breasts, then nipped his way lower, exploring with mouth and tongue and the light graze of his teeth every sensitive hollow and curve. By the time he found his way back up, he was as soaked as she. He wiped the water from his face, his gaze so passionately intense she shivered.

"J.T., please," she whimpered, plowing her fingers through his wet hair. She strained into him, yearning for the ultimate union with him, the wonderful ecstasy of being a complete part of him.

"Not here," he rasped, then groaned when she curled a leg around his hip, trapping his thick arousal between their bodies. "Oh, God, Caitlan. I want you in my bed."

Caitlan didn't think she could wait that long.

Two minutes later, their bodies still damp from the quick rubdown he'd given them, J.T. laid her on the soft quilt covering his bed. Leaving the nightstand light on low, he slid on top of her, bracing himself above her on his elbows. Her legs parted eagerly for him, but he didn't take possession of her.

The friction of his hard, muscular body pressing into her soft contours aroused her. The gleam in his eyes blazed savagely and his heart pounded fiercely beneath the hand she'd planted on his chest. Heaven help her, she wanted him like this, wild and primitive and hungry for her.

"I love you, Caitlan," he said, the words sounding rusty and unused. "I love you." Before she could respond his mouth swooped down on hers, open, hot, and wet, ruthless in its demands, a kiss meant to claim. The tip of his arousal touched silky warmth, teasing and tormenting her with the promise of being filled.

He tore his mouth from hers with a low groan. His gaze grew dark and smoky, his breathing harsh. "You're mine, Caitlan," he said, staking the same claim he had in the barn. "Say it," he demanded huskily.

She thrilled to the truth burning in his eyes, the same truth that seared her heart and made her wholly his. Her medallion danced like fire between her breasts, but not hot enough to dissuade her from following her heart. "I'm yours," she said, hooking her legs around his thighs, luring him toward the promise of ecstasy. "Take me."

Caitlan cried out as he drove into her, her body so primed that she accepted him in one silken stroke. He came down on her with an anguished moan, crushing his lips to hers, plundering her mouth with his tongue. His hips moved rhythmically against hers, long, fluid thrusts that escalated into something far more powerful and compelling.

And then it wasn't enough-for either of them. Unbridled passion erupted between them, white hot and untamed. Their bodies strained toward one another, both desperate to bind more than ust flesh. Caitlan gloried in his sleek power, at the pleasure he so easily wove in her. Her hands touched him everywhere, imprinting everything about him to memory, knowing that was all she'd ever have from him. She poured her love into their kiss, although her heart faltered at the knowledge that she would ultimately lose him.

J.T. lifted his mouth from hers, his body rigid with control. He gazed down at her, his eyes glittering with hunger, desperate with greed. "Wrap your legs around me."

She did, hugging him tight. Holding her, he rolled to his back and pushed her to an upright position so she straddled his hips. A startled gasp escaped her as he embedded himself to the hilt. He stared up at her for a long moment, his gaze scanning her face, taking in her tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips. The large hands spanning her waist moved slowly, sensuously upward, splaying over her stomach, then tracing the outline of each rib. A hot flood of desire spiraled through her, and she moaned and arched shamelessly on him, pushing her breasts into his palms.

He touched the medallion with the tip of his finger, and the gold immediately increased in temperature, scalding her skin. Sucking in a quick breath, she reached up to push his hand away. Rebellion flared in his eyes and he grasped the pendant in his palm.

An electrifying surge of energy jolted her, traveling the length of her body like a never-ending shock wave. Sparks of heat showered within her, shimmering just below the surface of her skin and radiating downward to where she joined intimately with J.T. She melted around him, an incredible feeling of oneness meshing her spirit with J.T.'s, leaving her breathless.

J.T. moaned, his body shuddering. She looked into his eyes and knew by the bewilderment there that he'd experienced the same startling sensation. The intensity of the spiritual encounter, and the channel of energy still humming between them, frightened and aroused her.

"Take the medallion off," he said, his voice husky with sexually charged awareness.

Panic gripped her and she grasped his wrist. Allowing him to touch the medallion was one thing, but to take it off…She never took off the medallion during a mission. "J.T., no-"

"Yes," he said adamantly. "I don't want anything between us."

She hesitated for a brief moment, torn between love and duty. Then, with an acceptance that came from her heart, she let go of his hand. She, too, wanted the last barrier between them removed.

He lifted the chain over her head and dropped it off the side of the bed. The pendant hit the wooden floor with a soft clink. "Now ride me, Caitie," he demanded thickly, pulling her hips down at the same time he bucked upward. "Ride me hard."

His bluntness should have shocked her, but it thrilled her instead. "Show me," she said, wanting to please him.

He guided her with his hands and rolled his hips. "Do whatever feels good."

She did, giving free rein to her awakening sensuality.

He groaned, low and rough. "That's it," he murmured, driving deeper, more urgently into her. "So good."

Closing her eyes, Caitlan focused on the tension winding within her. Without the medallion, her response to J.T. was sharper, more searing than ever. Their union went past the physical joining to the emotional link that seemed to make him such an intricate part of her. Tiny shivers of awareness sparkled over her, whispering to her senses, pulling at her soul. She arched wildly on him, reaching for the brilliance glittering on the edge, the promise of fulfillment that sat just beyond her grasp. And something else: elusive thoughts and images that teased her mind.

"C'mon, Caitie," he growled, drawing in choppy breaths in an effort to hold back for her. His fingers caressed the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, skimming higher. "Let it go."

Caitlan wanted to, but the closer she came to reaching that crest, something within her pulled back. Her heart slammed in her chest and every breath labored her lungs. A jumble of emotions raged in her, all tied to J.T. Rich, profound feelings of love and desire… and devastation and loss.

She blinked her eyes open and started to withdraw, afraid of what lay beyond the peak. But then J.T.'s fingers touched her where they became one, stroking silken folds with gentle determination. He murmured encouraging words to her, then more explicit demands.

Keen emotions swelled in her, clamoring for release. Moaning softly, Caitlan arched desperately against J.T. An uprush of sensations burst free, an explosion of the sweetest kind overtaking her body and mind. Sobbing J.T.'s name, she convulsed violently around him, feeling reborn, her soul renewed. From another plateau she heard J.T. call her name, heard him groan deeply, then felt the wet warmth of him fill her.

I love you, J.T., she thought, collapsing on his chest.

"I love you, Caitlan," he whispered, his body shuddering from the force of his climax. "Don't leave me."

Familiar feelings and images spiraled in Caitlan, tugging on her senses, like a powerful, inescapable riptide. She closed her eyes, and a wispy vision materialized of a dismal, gray day in a cemetery.

Dressed in a black suit, J.T. stood beside a polished coffin, pain and sorrow lining his features. He placed a bouquet of handpicked primroses and daisies on the smooth lid, his eyes bleak and empty.

"Don't leave me, Amanda, please," he said, his voice hoarse with desperation.

Amanda, now a spiritual form, looked on at the scene, at peace with herself, but still so much a part of this man she had to leave behind. I'll never leave you, Johnny. I'll always be with you. Always. And then she reached out and touched him one last time, projecting to him all the love in her heart.

"Amanda, it's time to go," her Superior, Mary, called to her. "You have much work to accomplish before you are rejoined with your soulmate."

Amanda. The name hit Caitlan with the force of a bolt of lightning. Mary had been talking to her, Caitlan. She remembered the conversation with clarity, recalled going to see J.T. that final time… she had been there!

A heavy, suffocating pressure compressed Caitlan's chest. She frantically searched the outermost reaches of her subconscious, digging for facts and clues to substantiate what she'd stumbled upon. A sharp pain pierced her temples, and she gasped, momentarily paralyzed by the onslaught. Snippets of her life as Amanda rushed through her mind like a movie on fast-forward: her parents, her childhood, her love for J.T., her death, her years of service as a guardian angel. And finally the memory of her Superiors suppressing her memory for this mission, then giving her the medallion to protect the past. The medallion J.T. had removed. Now, she understood the connection to J.T., the visions that had plagued her on this mission.

J.T. was her soulmate.

With a moan of utter despair, Caitlan absorbed J.T.'s body heat, overwhelmed by her discovery. Her body trembled and her head whirled. An abundance of realizations and memories poured over her, replenishing all the empty areas in her mind, her heart, and her soul. And when the torrent ended she knew with absolute certainty her true identity. Cuddled close to J.T., she began to cry, deep, wracking sobs that shook her entire body.

J.T., still languorous and awed by the power of their joining, basked in the warm, soft feeling of Caitlan curling up to him, and the sense of completion weaving around his heart. He stroked her back and threaded his fingers through her damp hair, wondering how he'd lived for so long without this woman in his life.

The sensual fog cleared from his head and he frowned, suddenly aware of the tremors shaking her body. She clung to him, her face buried in his neck, a hot wetness dampening his skin. Caitlan's tears. His body tensed with alarm. God, had he hurt her somehow?

He rolled so she was beneath him, but she wouldn't let go of the hold she had around his neck. Gently, he pried her arms away so he could look into her face. Tears pooled her violet eyes and total devastation marked her expression. J.T. panicked. "Caitlan? Baby, what is it?"

She shut her eyes, releasing another trail of tears down the side of her face. Her breath caught on a ragged sob. "Amanda," she choked out.

His entire body coiled into a tense knot at the mention of Amanda's name. Remembering the last time they'd made love and she'd called him Johnny, irritation flowed like molten lava through his veins. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded.

Her eyes, glossy with tears, brimmed with a peculiar mixture of awe and torment. Slowly lifting her hand, she skimmed her fingertips over his jaw, her gaze searching his features as if seeing him for the first time. She swallowed thickly, a tentative smile working up the corner of her mouth. "I'm Amanda."

He jerked away from her cool touch as if burned by flame. Fury shot through him. "Stop it," he roared, brows drawn fiercely over his eyes.

She withdrew physically, the bedside lamp illuminating her startled expression. An eerie familiarity swirled around J.T., barraging his senses. He gazed down into beautiful violet eyes so like his Amanda's, had glimpsed the dimple both women possessed, and thought the crashing pressure in his chest would be his undoing. The need and connection he'd experienced with Caitlan had felt so damn real… He squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach churning with terror.

Oh, God, Amanda. But how could that be? He shook his head, wondering if he was going slowly insane. No! he raged inwardly. Amanda was dead, gone from this lifetime.

A spike of anger renewed his fortitude, and he moved away from Caitlan. Rolling off the bed to his feet, he snatched his jeans from the floor and yanked them on, one leg at a time.

"Dammit, Caitlan, what are you trying to pull?" He glared at her, grasping his ire with both hands, welcoming the heated fury in favor of the softening emotions threatening to engulf him. "If this is some kind of sick joke…"

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head wildly. "No." Sitting up, she reached for the bunched-up quilt and covered her naked body. Her eyes filled with hurt and confusion. "Johnny, I swear-"

"Don't call me that!" His jaw clenched so hard, his teeth hurt.

She shrank back at his harsh tone. The pain and vulnerability etched on her face nearly disarmed him, but he refused to fall for the act. What else could this whole farce be? Christ, he'd fallen in love with… an imposter. A fraud.

Cursing himself for a fool, he grabbed his shirt at the end of the bed and shrugged into it. His fingers worked the buttons quickly as he paced the floor in agitation. He zipped up his pants, sparing Caitlan a sharp glance. "Who put you up to this? Huh?" He was going to kill the bastard responsible for this sadistic prank.

Pushing the tangle of damp hair from her face, she drew a steady breath that did nothing to clear the uncertainty from her gaze. "My… my Superiors."

He came to an abrupt stop, staring at her incredulously. "Your what?"

She pressed shaky fingers to her temples and closed her eyes, a low groan of despair echoing in the room. "This is all so confusing," she whispered.

"Well, sort it out and fast," he snapped, jamming his hands on his hips. "I'm losing my patience real quick, Caitlan."

"Amanda," she corrected in a whisper.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, he curled his fingers into tight fists. "Explain yourself before I toss you out on your pretty little ass," he said in a slow, precise tone of voice.

She looked up at him, indecision in her gaze. Swirling deeper, he glimpsed a hopelessness that brushed the edge of his heart and made him want to give into the plea for understanding shining in her eyes.

Turning away, he walked to the window and glanced outside, seeing nothing but the murky darkness of night. Propping his shoulder against the wall, he faced her again. "I'm waiting."

Her fingers pleated the sheet in her lap. "I'm a… guardian angel."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, that's a good one. I suppose you're going to tell me the next time I hear a bell ring, a friend of yours is getting his wings."

Her spine straightened in indignation, her eyes flashing violet fire. "Are you going to listen to me or not?"

"Go ahead." A humorless smile curved his mouth. "This tale should be as entertaining as the one you told me of how you got lost on Rafferty property." He was suddenly struck with the timely manner of her arrival on the Circle R. She'd claimed to save his life-just in the nick of time, from what she'd told him. There had been many inconsistencies in her story, but he'd had no proof other than to believe her. Could she truly be a guardian angel? His Amanda?

He studied her warily from across the room as she worried on her lower lip. He searched for something otherworldly to substantiate her claim, a soft heavenly glow about her, a shimmering halo-albeit crooked after her erotic interlude with him. Something. Anything. But all he saw were her huge violet eyes drenched with a vulnerable weariness.

He shook his head, hard. Oh, you're losing it, Rafferty. You're finally sailing over the edge. An angel, for chrissakes!

"Well?" he prompted.

"Can I get dressed before we discuss this?"

He wasn't letting her out of his sight. Considering her clothes were in the guest room, he grabbed a long-sleeved flannel shirt from his closet and tossed it next to her on the bed. She stared at the garment dumbly.

"Put it on," he said in a crisp tone. "It's as generous as I feel at the moment."

A slight blush rose on her cheeks, and she reached for the shirt. The quilt dropped to her waist, and he sucked in a breath at the creamy perfection of her breasts. His body leapt eagerly, responding swiftly to her beauty. The only thought in his mind was to tumble her back on the bed and forget this crazy conversation. Cursing his lack of willpower, he looked away while she dressed.

"My Superiors aren't going to be happy about this," she said so quietly he almost didn't hear her.

Perplexed by her comment, he glanced back, relieved to see her clothed from neck to thigh. "What are you talking about?"

She bent down and retrieved her medallion from the floor. The shiny gold glittered with life and energy in her hand. She closed her fingers over the pendant and looked at him. "My angel Superiors. Chris and Mary. They're the ones who assigned me to this mission."

Drained from the events of the past couple of hours, J.T. sat down on the far corner of the bed, sighing heavily. He didn't know what to believe anymore, but one thing he did know for certain-Caitlan, or Amanda, or whoever the hell she was, did feel like a part of him, heart and soul. Still, Amanda as his guardian angel…?

He clasped his hands between his widespread legs, doing his best to keep an open mind for the explanation to come. "From the beginning, Caitlan."

Placing the medallion on the nightstand, she sat an arm's length away from him and began her tale. Her Superiors, he learned, were high-ranking angels who assigned missions and kept tabs on the activities down on earth. He listened to Caitlan as she explained how she'd seen him get hit in the head, how her Superiors didn't have anyone to send to earth to save him on such a last-minute crisis, and reluctantly agreed to send her to protect him. They'd suppressed her memory of her past with him and given her a new background and identity.

"I was never supposed to remember my past as Amanda," she concluded softly.

"Then, how…" He followed her gaze to the glimmering gold on the nightstand, recalling all the strange, unexplainable things he'd experienced in connection with that pendant, and with her.

"The medallion," she said, confirming his thoughts. "It links me to my Superiors. Without it on, the medallion could no longer protect my memory." She glanced back at him, her gaze overflowing with love. "My feelings for you are too strong to be suppressed without the medallion."

His anger ebbed away, replaced by a reluctant curiosity. "Changing your name and identity is understandable under the circumstances, but why would your… Superiors suppress your memory of your past with me?"

"Conflict of interest. We're eternal soulmates. They felt if they sent me on the mission without suppressing my memory, my feelings for you would cloud my judgment." She gave him a small, bittersweet smile. "I'm afraid they were right. My love for you is so powerful, it's distracted me from the very beginning of the mission. I've been acting more like a mortal than a guardian angel."

J.T. scrubbed a hand over his jaw, absorbing everything she'd told him. He, too, had experienced that powerful link to her, the awesome need to make her his in every elemental way possible. He could no longer chalk it up to lust; the connection had gone beyond sex, to the very core of him.

"So," he said on an exhalation of breath, "you really aren't a guest at Parson's, are you?"

"Yes… I mean no," she amended, shaking her head.

"Which is it?" he asked, irritation creeping back in.

"It's all part of the mission."

"How convenient." His dry tone held a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Caitlan twisted toward him, anger flaring in her eyes. "You were going to die out in the middle of nowhere! You should be grateful that I was able to reach you in time."

He could have died. Someone had meantfor him to die. And Caitlan had undoubtedly saved him. Springing from the bed, he paced to the other end of the room, a deluge of questions overwhelming him. "How did you really get me to the line shack?"

As if remembering the outrageous tale she'd told him of dragging him to the shack, she lowered her eyes to her lap. "My Superiors helped."

A derisive smile quirked his mouth. "Heavenly intervention?"

"Yes." She shrugged, her hand absently smoothing over the quilt, tracing the intricate pattern his mother had created over three decades before. "Once we got you to the shack, Chris mended your head wound and I worked to get your fever under control." She looked back up, her gaze intense on his face. "I wasn't sure if you were going to make it."

J.T. rubbed at the tense muscles across his shoulders. "I don't understand. Why all the trouble to save me?"

"It wasn't your time to pass on to the next plateau." Standing, she padded soundlessly across the floor to him, her brow creased in concern.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He stared down at Caitlan, drowning in those incredible violet eyes. He breathed deeply, dragging the warm, feminine scent of her into his lungs. God, he wanted her. Again. Regardless of the turmoil between them. That familiar tug pulled on his soul. He stubbornly blocked the feeling. "Come on, Caitlan. You have to admit, this whole scenario is a little bizarre. Even if I didbelieve in guardian angels, I think you're stretching the story a bit by claiming to be Amanda."

Her lips pursed. "I am Amanda."

"Okay," he relented, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me about Amanda."

Holding his gaze steadily, she proceeded to tell him about the pictures she'd sketched on her mission, and how they matched exactly the drawings he kept in the cigar box in the office, the ones Amanda had drawn of him when she was alive.

A shiver snaked down J.T.'s spine when he realized how close he'd been to discovering that particular truth when Kirk had interrupted him with his call for help. Then again, he rationalized, Caitlan could have reproduced the drawings as she'd originally claimed when he'd confronted her out in the meadow with the pictures she'd created in her sketch pad.

He couldn't shake his doubts, maybe because it was the only anchor he had left to reality. "Not good enough. Tell me something no one else but Amanda and I would know."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, as if sifting through memories. Then she smiled widely, a dimple appearing in her cheek. "The pie," she said.

"The pie?" he echoed, frowning.

She grasped his hand, her eyes sparkling brightly. "Johnny, don't you remember? We were just kids. Your mother made three apple pies and set them on the kitchen counter to cool. We stole one of them, along with a half gallon of ice cream and-"

"Ate all of it down by the creek," he finished, stunned by the recollection of the ancient memory.

She laughed, the sound sweet and pure to his ears. "We got so sick! We were both afraid of getting in trouble, so we buried the pie tin and the empty ice cream carton… " Suddenly she grew serious, the humor fading from her eyes. "I remember everything. I remember the day you rescued me from drowning in the creek, the first time you kissed me, the night of my eighteenth birthday." She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek, her voice softening perceptively. "We made love for the first time and you asked me to marry you. It's all I ever wanted in this lifetime, to be your wife and have your babies."

As if he'd just been delivered a punch to the solar plexus, J.T. lost his breath. He stared at Caitlan, seeing her in a different light. He saw Amanda in her soft smile, her violet eyes, and knew without further interrogation that Caitlan was telling the truth.

A maelstrom of emotions welled in him. Afraid to believe in something he'd fantasized about numerous times, he backed away from her. He had to get away, to think and sort everything out.

Spinning around, he strode to the end of the bed and jammed on his boots.

"Where are you going?" Her voice wavered with concern.

"Out." He didn't look at her, knowing if he did he'd never make it out the bedroom door. "I need time to think."

Caitlan watched J.T. leave, her heart sinking to the floor. She understood his need to be alone-he'd been dealt quite a shock-but she hated the loneliness that enveloped her on his departure. That same emptiness echoed in her heart.

"Oh, Johnny," she sighed dismally. The nickname came so naturally to her, she couldn't imagine having called him anything else. "What are we going to do?" But she knew the answer to her question. Regardless of who she was, and despite her love for J.T., she had a mission to complete. She ached with the knowledge that she would have to leave him. Again.

She slipped her medallion back on. Now that her memory had been restored, the pendant no longer shimmered with that strange energy. The vibrant life it had possessed had transferred itself to her, leaving the medallion as a device solely for use in contacting her Superiors.

Running a shaking hand through her disheveled hair, she left J.T.'s room, needing the comfort she knew King could offer her. She changed into warm clothes and a jacket and left the house heading for the corral, praying her Superiors would have a cure for her lovesick heart once she arrived back in heaven.

An hour later, calmer now from his fast-paced walk to burn off the chaos raging inside him, J.T. followed the pasture fence back to the barn. The night air chilled his skin, and he shrugged deeper into the warmth of his jacket.

Rounding the final curve from the pasture to the corral, he saw Caitlan with King and stopped, silently watching the two of them from a distance. Moonlight spilled over them, giving them both an ethereal appearance. Caitlan slowly stroked a curry comb over King's gleaming coat, her soft murmurs soothing the stallion. He found himself fascinated with the gentle way King responded to Caitlan. Now that he knew she was an angel, he understood the uncanny bond she shared with the horse.

Amanda. Caitlan. One and the same. His instincts wanted to deny her claim, but she'd given him too much proof not to believe her. The whole situation boggled his mind. He'd fallen in love with Caitlan, and never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined he'd actually fallen in love with Amanda… again.

Although he'd resolved that Caitlan was Amanda's spirit in different packaging, he couldn't help but think of her as Caitlan, the woman he'd fallen in love with. This feeling of love he harbored for Caitlan was different from the one he'd shared with Amanda. Stronger somehow, full of rich passion. An adult love. Mature and lush with promise. Powerful and everlasting, like the love for Amanda would have grown to be if had she lived.

He no longer cared who she was, only that she made him feel truly alive after being dead inside for so long. He'd been given a second chance, and he wasn't about to give her up.

Quietly unlatching the corral gate, he stepped inside. Caitlan glanced over her shoulder, acknowledging his presence, then resumed grooming King.

Slowly, he approached the pair so as not to frighten the stallion. The smell of damp, burnt wood still hung in the air, and he was suddenly struck with a question he should have asked Caitlan earlier, but had been too swamped by other feelings to think past the fact that Caitlan was Amanda.

Three feet away, he stopped. King eyeballed him warily but stood still for Caitlan's praise and loving ministrations. "Do you know who's behind all the incidents at the ranch?" he asked in a quiet tone.

She hesitated so long, J.T. didn't think she planned to answer him. Finally, she said, "Yes."

"Who?"

"I can't say."

"Why not? You've told me everything else." His voice rose with a touch of irritation, and King shied away.

Caitlan consoled the horse, then glanced over her shoulder at him. Even in the darkness he could see the reluctance in her gaze. "It's Randal."

"Randal? That's ridic-" He stopped abruptly, unable to deny that his cousin had been acting strange lately. Combine Randal's surly attitude and financial obligations with his drinking habit and you'd get a man on the verge of sliding off the edge. But to go as far as to commit murder…? "Randal wouldn't gain anything by killing me."

"I don't believe he's after material possessions," she stated. "Please don't ask me anything else, Johnny. I've already risked fate to tell you this much. Just let me do my job and protect you." Her voice was a shade away from a plea.

Anger passed through J.T. How could he have been so blind to his cousin? Maybe because he didn't want to admit Randal, his own kin, could be so devious. "I'll get Randal help."

"No one can help Randal but himself. He doesn't want to change. That's why I'm here."

J.T. didn't argue, though he wanted to. He didn't excuse Randal's behavior the past couple of weeks, but Randal was family, and he'd do whatever was necessary to put him back on the straight and narrow-starting with checking him into a rehab center for his drinking. Tomorrow, he decided, he'd approach Randal and tell him he's suspended with pay if he agrees to get help.

Satisfied with his plan, he pushed it out of his mind for the time being. All he wanted right now was Caitlan, except she was giving her total attention to King, stroking him and praising him. He was actually jealous of a horse.

"Can I touch him?" he asked, wanting to be a part of the bond between Caitlan and the stallion.

Caitlan framed the side of King's head gently in her hands, her thumbs caressing his muzzle, and looked into his eyes in silent communication. She glanced back at J.T., moonlight brushing her features in pale silver. "You're not a threat to him. I can see it in his eyes. Move slowly and he might let you." Grasping his halter lightly, she moved to make room for J.T.

J.T. approached King cautiously, and the horse whinnied and shied away. Caitlan reassured the stallion with soft words and a gentle caress, until J.T. stood close enough to touch him. He raised his hand and King sidestepped anxiously. Remembering Caitlan telling him King had been abused, he suspected Randal was the culprit.

After a few minutes of sweet-talking the horse J.T. finally touched King, his fingers stroking down the strong muscles in the stallion's neck. That was all King allowed before he jerked away, neighing uneasily. Caitlan let go of King and he galloped to the far end of the corral, tossing his sleek black head, watching J.T.

"That was incredible," J.T. said, a sense of awe filling him. "I can't believe he let me get that close."

"It's a start. He's been through a lot lately." She placed the curry comb on the fence post, a smile of satisfaction gracing her mouth. "Take care with him, Johnny. He's a beautiful horse."

J.T. nodded. Holding Caitlan's gaze, an awareness swirled in the cold night air between them. Heart pounding in his chest, he slowly approached her, suddenly needing to reaffirm that she was truly alive, and not some wispy figment of his imagination.

Sliding his cool fingers into her silky hair, he absorbed her warmth and softness, gradually moving closer until his thighs pressed against hers. Staring into the face of the woman he loved, something magical and promising sparkled between them. Love-pure, sweet, and crystal clear.

With a groan of joy, he folded her into his arms, reveling in the accepting way she came to him. She worked the zipper on his coat down and slipped her hands inside, snuggling into him. Her cheek rested on his chest, and her arms circled him in the sweetest way.

Closing his eyes, he buried his face in her hair, saturating his senses in the unique, feminine scent of her. "Oh, God, Caitlan… I mean, Amanda…" He swore, his eyes snapping open in annoyance. "What in the hell am I supposed to call you?"

Against his chest he felt her lips lift in a smile. "For now, call me Caitlan."

Caitlan… but her spirit belonged to Amanda. Would he ever get used to such a novelty? "I've missed you so much," he breathed against her temple.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with adoration. "I know. I've felt your love all along."

His hands slid down her back to her hips. "How?"

"Our souls are matched eternally."

He liked the sound of that. He'd gladly be bound to her forever. "What happens now?"

She knew what he was asking. Sorrow clouded her eyes, and her smile faded away. Withdrawing from him, she stepped away and focused on King, prancing at the opposite end of the corral. "Nothing has changed," she said quietly, pain in her tone. "Once my mission is over I'll be leaving."

His body went as taut as a bow. "No."

Her gaze found his again. "Johnny, it's all so complicated. I… can't stay." Her voice was thick with the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

"I'm not letting you go." He heard the desperation in his voice but didn't care. "It'll kill me to lose you again."

"No, it won't." Caitlan's heart ached for him, for everything that could never be. "The memory of me being here will fade with time."

Disbelief flared in his eyes. "You're a part of me, Caitlan." Grabbing her hand, he pressed her palm over his heart. "Can you feel that? How could I ever forget you?"

The heavy beat beneath her hand reverberated through her, flowing to her soul in a river of longing. "Oh, Johnny…" A sob of despair caught in her throat.

"I won't let you go twice. Not without a fight."

"You have no choice," she argued.

"I do." His hand curled around the back of her head and pulled her to him, his mouth covering hers before she realized his intent.

Caitlan gasped at the surprise attack, and he took advantage of her parted lips to sink his tongue inside her mouth. She moaned… in pleasure, and at the pain that would haunt her once she left him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him, matching the silken glide of his tongue, stroke for intimate stroke.

Breathless, they broke apart. J.T. buried his face in her neck, his lips brushing her flesh, his teeth grazing her soft skin up to her ear. Caitlan shivered and hugged him closer.

"Come back to bed with me." J.T.'s voice was rough and dark with passion.

Selfishly wanting the time she had left with him to be special, she took his hand, silently leading him back to the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. In the dark hours of night and into the early hours of morning, they made love, their hunger for one another insatiable. Soft moans and whispered words blended with the sensual sliding of damp bodies and warm tangled sheets. Caitlan's love fused with J.T.'s, making the link between them stronger, more intense, more binding. She stored up every feeling, every scent and sensation for when she returned to heaven.

And if she had to suffer consequences for her transgression once she left earth and her only love, she'd gladly pay the price.

Chapter Thirteen

Caitlan gradually woke the next morning, a smile pulling at her lips. Recollections of the way J.T. had found the birthmark in the back of her knee during a very thorough exploration of her body brought a flush to her skin. Stretching languorously, she reached toward J.T.'s side of the bed and met cool, empty sheets. Blinking her eyes open, she leaned up on her elbow and pushed the tousled hair from her face.

J.T. was gone. Sunlight streamed through the window, indicating the start of a new day. The digital clock on the nightstand glowed eight fifteen.

"Eight fifteen!" she said, alarm threading through her voice. Throwing back the covers, she scrambled out of bed, unable to believe she'd slept so late, and so soundly she hadn't heard J.T. leave her. She was becoming lax in her duties.

Berating herself for letting her heart rule her head, she slipped on the medallion J.T. had insisted she remove while they made love. Pulling on the shirt he'd given her the night before, she left his room and went to the guest room to change.

After everything that had happened last night, and her confession that Randal was the person responsible for the incidents, Caitlan didn't want J.T. going anywhere without her. Randal was a bomb waiting to detonate, and nothing J.T. could say or do would change that, except maybe make Randal explode sooner. She knew that for certain, had seen the banked rage in Randal's eyes numerous times. He was on the brink.

An uneasy feeling settled within her, a sudden, dark intuition that made Caitlan anxious. Throwing on her sweatshirt, she left the medallion on the outside, where it would be easily accessible, then pulled on her jeans and boots and raced to the kitchen. Her panic increased when she didn't find J.T. there.

"Good morning," Paula greeted her cheerfully over her shoulder. Putting aside the vegetable she was peeling, she turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. "How about breakfast? I've got some leftover pancake batter and sausage."

The thought of food made Caitlan's stomach turn. The same awful premonition that had filled her last night, before she'd located the fire, had her senses under siege again. A shiver of apprehension skipped down her spine, yet she had no idea why she was receiving such a warning, or where the danger lay. Trusting her instincts completely, she knew she had to find J.T. "Where's John-" she caught her slip-"J.T.?"

"Down at the barn, coordinating the cleanup from the fire." Taking down a mug from the cupboard, Paula smiled approvingly at Caitlan. "He said not to disturb you; thought you'd be exhausted after last night's ordeal."

Which ordeal was Paula referring to? Caitlan wondered idly, a warmth creeping up her neck. The barn fire or the first time she and J.T. had made love? Or the second, third, or fourth time he'd taken her to paradise? All had exhausted her, physically and emotionally.

"Sit down and have a cup of coffee and I'll make you a few pancakes," Paula offered, carrying the mug filled with coffee to the table.

Another ominous warning tugged on Caitlan senses, stretching her nerves to the snapping point. "I need to find J.T." She kept her tone calm so as not to rouse the other woman's suspicions of her sudden fear. "I'll be back up in a bit."

"Bring J.T. with you. He hasn't eaten yet either." A twinkle entered Paula's pale blue eyes. "A man's gotta keep up his energy."

Caitlan couldn't misinterpret Paula's insinuation and blushed. With a promise to bring J.T. back, Caitlan headed out the kitchen door, walking at a fast clip to the barn. With every step, her unease magnified, adding to the anxiety gathering in her chest.

J.T. Her eternal soulmate. The very life of her. Heaven help her, if anything happened to him, she'd never, ever forgive herself.

As she neared the barn, she could hear the men working in and around the structure. She searched for J.T. but didn't see him. In the distance the sky turned dark, carrying the promise of an abrupt storm. Black clouds rolled toward the Circle R, blocking the sun. A slight chilly breeze picked up, ruffling through Caitlan's hair and sending icy fingers of dread skimming over her nerves.

Oh, Lord, she thought. The menacing sky looked exactly like it had the day she'd seen J.T. through the portal, before she'd rescued him.

King, still in the corral, whinnied frantically, capturing Caitlan's attention. Glancing in that direction, she froze, her heart jumping to her throat. Randal, staggering along the corral fence in a drunken haze, bent and retrieved a small rock. He nearly toppled over in his task but managed to straighten up and steady himself.

Muttering a curse, he cocked his arm back and pitched the rock at King, striking his target with an accuracy that astounded Caitlan, considering Randal's intoxication. King shrieked and bolted to the other end of the corral. Whinnying distraughtly, he pranced anxiously back and forth like a duck in a shooting arcade.

Stumbling forward, Randal swooped up another rock.

Caitlan moved forward, her only thought to save King from any more inflicted pain. "Randal, no!" she yelled.

Randal whirled around. Faltering from the quick move, he came up against the fence and saved himself from falling on his butt in the dirt. Hooking an arm around a post, his back straightened. Bloodshot eyes narrowed on her, his cold, cruel smile curling his lips. "Well… if it isn't the heroine of the Circle R." His words dripped with hostility and hatred.

Behind her, Caitlan heard one of the hands say, "Better go tell J.T. there's a problem out here."

She wanted to tell the man no-she didn't want J.T. anywhere near Randal right now-but she lost the opportunity when Randal threw another rock at King, hitting the horse in the neck. King cried out and fled. Eyes wide with terror, the panicked stallion searched for some means of escape.

Randal laughed, an evil sound that slithered down Caitlan's spine. His eyes glittered with sinister pleasure. He picked up another rock, his expression daring her to stop him.

He drew his arm back, and Caitlan charged toward him, grasping his wrist before he could hurl the rock. "Leave King alone, Randal."

He shoved her back, hard. She stumbled backwards but managed to regain her footing. At least she'd saved King from further abuse, she thought.

"Bitch," Randal hissed, forgetting King and stalking her with deceptively steady steps.

Caitlan firmly held her ground, concealing the trepidation coiling in her. "Leave him alone," she said again, her voice calm. "You've terrorized him enough."

Randal waved a belligerent hand in the air, stopping a mere foot away from Caitlan. He swayed slightly, but his anger gave him a powerful fortitude. "That stupid horse of J.T.'s doesn't deserve to live."

The liquor on Randal's breath was unmistakable. Caitlan refrained from the natural urge to turn her face away from the fetid odor. As she met his gaze, something in his eyes changed. Hatred and bitterness swelled into a darkening rage… directed solely at her. The air around them turned icy cold.

Before she could move, he grasped her arms, his fingers biting painfully into her flesh. She winced and struggled to break away, but he tightened his grip.

"I'd have everything right now if you hadn't come along," he said in a low, menacing voice. "You had to ruin everything, didn't you? You conveniently saved J.T. and that wretched horse, but who's gonna save you?"

Mike, one of the hands witnessing the exchange, grabbed Randal's shoulder, trying to prevent the confrontation. "Back off, Randal," he said in warning.

Randal glared at Mike and slid his hand down Caitlan's arm so his fingers encircled her delicate wrist. "Get your goddamn hand off me or I'll break her wrist!"

When Mike didn't do as he ordered Randal applied pressure to Caitlan's palm, bending her hand back. Excruciating pain shot up her arm and she sucked in a breath.

Randal grinned sadistically. "Go ahead," he sneered at Mike, "give me a reason to give this bitch what she deserves."

Mike stepped back, indecision warring in his gaze. Caitlan reassured him with her eyes that he'd done the right thing.

Thunder clapped in the distance, rumbling the heavens. She looked up at the dark clouds churning in the sky and shivered, intuitively knowing the end was near. Her time with J.T. was almost over, and she hadn't even told him how much she loved him, in this lifetime and into the next. Surely after last night he had to know her heart was eternally his.

Out of the corner of her eye Caitlan saw J.T. walk out of the barn. The expression on his face turned to pure fury when he saw the way Randal handled her. Oh, Johnny, please don't do anything foolish, she prayed. Yet she was in no position to escape Randal, or to summon her Superiors for help.

J.T. started toward Randal, a white-hot rage consuming him. He was going to pulverize his cousin for touching Caitlan. His fist itched to connect with Randal's jaw, to pull him out of the bitterness he'd been wallowing in since Boyd's death. He'd be damned if he let anyone hurt his family, and Randal's was pushing things too far.

No one can help Randal but himself. Caitlan's words echoed through his mind, gelling the blood in his veins. Was his cousin really beyond helping?

J.T. stopped a few feet away, not wanting to provoke Randal into doing something that might harm Caitlan. He reminded himself that she was an angel, a spiritual form that couldn't possibly experience tragedy in its rawest sense, yet he couldn't curb the natural instinct to protect her. She was his, and he wasn't about to let Randal's hatred jeopardize the love he'd rediscovered with her.

Meeting Caitlan's gaze, he detected the desperation in her eyes and, deeper, fear… fear for him.

His fists clenched at his sides, and he battled with all the conflicting emotions clamoring within him "Get your hands off her, Randal. Now."

Randal laughed condescendingly. "The high-and-mighty J.T. Rafferty speaks. Well, let me tell you something, cousin. This isn't the first time I've had the upper hand."

J.T. frowned fiercely at Randal, hating the trepidation crawling over his nerves. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Last night I was going to kill that friggin' horse you prize so much, would have succeeded if she hadn't interfered," he said, slanting Caitlan a spiteful look. Then his mouth twisted with a touch of gratification. "And those poor kittens, such a shame they found their way into King's stall, isn't it?"

J.T. didn't want to believe his cousin could be so deranged, yet Randal was openly admitting his guilt. Worse, he showed no remorse over any of his malicious deeds. "Randal, you're a sick bastard-"

"Oh, and let's not forget Stacey," he interrupted. "I screwed her every way I could, and she still wanted more." He leered at Caitlan. "Maybe I'll screw this bitch and let you know how they compare."

Fury exploded in J.T. Rage shook every vital part of him. He stepped forward, ready to tear his cousin apart limb by limb. He came to an abrupt halt when Caitlan cried out from the pain Randal inflicted on her. A sadistic pleasure brightened Randal's eyes. One more application of pressure and the bones in Caitlan's wrist would shatter.

Adrenaline pumped through J.T.'s body, and he resisted the instinctive urge to charge at Randal, even though watching his cousin torture Caitlan ripped him apart inside. Caitlan clearly experienced human emotions and pain, and he refused to run the risk of Randal seriously injuring her.

God, he felt so helpless. Randal held the advantage, and J.T. was at a loss as to what to do. His men stood to the side, but they, too, knew they couldn't do anything to help without risking Caitlan's safety. If he could get Caitlan out of the way, J.T. knew he could take Randal down.

"What do you want, Randal?" he asked, trying to reason with him when all he wanted to do was kill him for hurting Caitlan.

"I want to bring you down, J.T., as low as I've been. I wonder," Randal said, enjoying being in control, "would you get down on your knees and beg for this slut's life?" A slow smile of satisfaction curled his mouth. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. Beg, J.T., and maybe I'll let her go." Randal twisted her hand back.

Gasping at the burning agony streaking up her arm, Caitlan frantically searched her mind for a way out of this mess. She had to find a way to reach her medallion and summon her Superiors' help. Drawing her foot back, she kicked Randal in the shin. He grunted at the unexpected painful attack, his eyes widening. She started to repeat the procedure. Realizing her intent, he shoved her roughly away.

Staggering to the side, J.T. caught her before she fell and thrust her behind him, out of the way. He moved to tackle Randal but stopped short when his cousin pulled a.38 from his waistband beneath his jacket. Randal backed himself up against the barn, pointing the small handgun at J.T.'s chest, a crazed look in his eyes. He was trapped and knew it. The only way out would be by killing J.T.

"Randal, goddammit, put the gun away!" J.T. ordered gruffly.

Randal's finger curled around the trigger. "Not until I finish what I started down by the creek." Slowly, he guided the barrel of the gun to Caitlan, aiming at her heart. "Or maybe I'll put a bullet through her and make you suffer the way I've suffered."

J.T.'s jaw clenched, anger and apprehension blazing through him at Randal's threat to shoot Caitlan. If he had any hope at all of keeping her with him after this whole ordeal, he couldn't allow Randal to harm her in any way.

"Leave Caitlan out of this," J.T. said tightly, his body tensing to spring at any moment. "Your grudge is with me, not her."

"As always, you're right," Randal said mockingly, training the barrel of the gun back to J.T. "You always were the golden boy around here, weren't you? You could do no wrong. Even my own father would ask me why I couldn't be more like you. Funny thing is, I wanted to be like you. I wanted to be you." He waved the gun in the air, his eyes glittering with madness. "You've always had everything handed to you."

"I've worked for everything I've got." J.T. shifted on his feet, the subtle move inching him closer to Randal and the barrel of his gun. "Your father should have been more careful with his inheritance."

"Half of this ranch should have been mine, J.T.," he roared, his face turning bright red in his fury. "Mine!"

Randal continued to rave at his cousin for all the injustices done to him, his gun never wavering far from his target of J.T.'s chest. A few of the hands moved cautiously in to help, but Randal went wild-eyed and warned them back, threatening J.T.'s life. The men obeyed.

A fierce wind blew, whipping through the trees, scattering the scent of danger and peril. The black clouds in the sky churned, and thunder boomed ominously. Keeping a keen eye on Randal's movements, Caitlan slowly reached up and grasped her medallion, rubbing the warm gold with her thumb for comfort as much as as a summons.

"Help!" Caitlan projected.

"Yes, it's time," Mary answered.

Her worst fear confirmed, that her mission was nearly over, a sob of despair caught in Caitlan's throat. She held back the impulse to beg for more time with her only love. Oh, God, how could she leave Johnny again? How could she go on without him after giving him her heart and soul-everything that she was?

"Get your emotions under control, Caitlan!" Mary ordered. "Now, before it's too late. You must be the one to save J.T."

Mentally shaking herself, Caitlan dropped her hand back to her side and concentrated on the situation, trying to anticipate Randal's next move.

Randal's tirade continued, his rage mounting without any provocation from J.T. "I hate you, J.T.," he seethed, his fingers tightening on the gun. "If I can't have the ranch, neither will you!"

In what seemed like slow motion to Caitlan, she watched in horror as J.T. lunged toward Randal, his intention to dislodge the gun from his cousin's hands. Fear tore through Caitlan and she bolted forward to intercept J.T.

Randal's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected commotion. He jerked out of the way and leveled the barrel on J.T. again, his finger squeezing the trigger. A maniacal expression contorted Randal's face.

"Johnny, no!" Caitlan shoved J.T. aside with the force of her propelled body just as a loud crack exploded in the air. An excruciating, ripping pain pierced her chest like a lance of fire.

The impact of the bullet threw her back, and she stumbled into J.T., knocking them both to the dirt.

J.T. rolled to his knees on the ground and shook his head as all hell broke lose around him. He was vaguely aware that it was Mike who rushed at Randal, unarmed him, then threw him on the ground and pinned him there. The other men swarmed around, assisting Mike in any way they could. One of the men shouted to call the sheriff.

J.T.'s head cleared and his gaze landed on Caitlan's limp form laying feet away from him. He scrambled over to her, a deafening roar filling his ears and a sense of dread seizing his insides. He stared in horror at the blood soaking Caitlan's sweatshirt near the vicinity of her heart. She'd taken a bullet for him!

"Caitlan! Oh, God, Caitlan, no!" He scooped her gently into his arms and cradled her close, desperation ruling him. Touching his fingers to her neck, he felt a faint pulse, reaffirming that she still lived. She can't die, he tried to reassure himself, but the panic within him wouldn't subside.

Gingerly, he touched the bright red spot on her sweatshirt. His fingers came away wet and stained, and he moaned like a wounded animal. "Shit, you're bleeding!" he said in disbelief. "You can't be bleeding… "

Her lashes fluttered open and she attempted a smile. A smile, for chrissakes! Pain bracketed her mouth. Her eyes were glassy but more brilliantly violet than he'd ever seen them before.

"I'm not… invincible, Johnny," she said in a wispy voice. She gasped for breath, then an anguished groan slipped past her lips.

Despair clutched at J.T. "Call Dr. Henson!" he bellowed as Frank came running up to the scene. "And have him get an ambulance here immediately! Caitlan's been shot!"

Frank bolted toward the house, and J.T. glanced back at Caitlan, whose face had gone deathly pale. The pain and tears he'd never shed for Amanda gathered in his throat. "Please don't leave me, Caitlan. Please!" he rasped. "Hold on just a little longer."

"It hurts," she said, her breath catching. "I didn't think it would hurt so much."

"Shh," he soothed, brushing her hair away from her face. A tear seeped from the corner of her eye, and he tenderly wiped it away with his thumb. "Baby, hang in there. You've got to hang on!" I won't let you leave me, not without a fight!

Caitlan lifted her hand to his face and touched her fingers to his lips, wincing at the effort it cost her. "Johnny, I have to leave. My mission is over." She drew a breath that trembled the length of her body. "I was sent to protect you. Johnny… I told you I couldn't stay."

A broken sound of torment passed his lips and he shook his head in denial. "No!" Grabbing her hand, he pressed her fingers to his mouth, absorbing her warmth, her softness, everything about her.

She gave him another shaky smile, enough of an attempt to crease the dimple in her cheek. "I never thought it would hurt so much to leave you again," she whispered. "Let me go, Johnny." Her voice was barely audible. "We'll be together eternally… I promise."

"You can't leave me!" Holding her close, he rocked her in his arms. A sob caught in his throat and tears burned his eyes. He lifted his gaze to heaven, ready to bargain away his soul if he had to. "Please don't take her from me again," he pleaded, his voice rough with emotion. Surely if there was a God in heaven he would spare him this loss. "I can't live without her."

He placed her palm over his beating heart, willing to sacrifice the very life of him for her. In the distance he could hear the scream of an ambulance's siren and knew she'd be leaving him soon. Knew, too, that he was powerless to stop her inevitable departure from earth. Again.

The tears he'd held at bay for so many years broke free, filling his eyes so that his vision blurred. In desperation, he grabbed the medallion that had linked them so many times and pulled it off her, clutching the warm gold in his palm.

"God, Caitlan, I love you!"

"I love you, Johnny," she whispered.

A strange, shimmering warmth invaded J.T.'s heart and soul upon their simultaneous declaration. Then she was being lifted from his arms by two paramedics, and it was like they were tearing his heart from his chest. J.T. knelt there, too paralyzed by the loss to move as the two men gently placed Caitlan on a stretcher and hurriedly carried her toward the waiting ambulance.

I'll love you forever, Johnny, he heard whispered on the breeze.

And minutes later, as the ambulance pulled away from the drive, J.T. knew this was the end. Caitlan was gone, and she wouldn't be coming back. Slowly, defeatedly, he stood. An absolute emptiness enveloped him, as dark and black as the sky above, and he knew he'd never be the same again.

"No!" he raged to the heavens, his anguish echoing on and on. He choked on a deep sob, his heart and soul twisting with such agony, he wanted to die. Indeed, a part of him haddied with her departure.

The medallion in his palm retained its warmth, and he defiantly slipped the chain over his head. It was the only connection he had left to his one true love, and he refused to give it up. He refused to let the memory of her being at the Circle R fade.

Thunder rumbled and lightning streaked across the sky, signaling the arrival of the storm. Bloated clouds floated overhead, and the temperature dropped to an icy chill.

With an odd kind of detachment J.T. watched the sheriff take Randal into custody and take statements from the men who'd witnessed the ordeal.

Mike approached J.T., his gaze going over him with concern. He shoved his fingers through his hair, still shaken by the incident. "Are you okay, J.T.?"

No. I'll never be the same again. J.T. looked at Mike, wondering if his eyes reflected the bleak despair eating away at him. He knew he owed Mike his gratitude for helping to apprehend Randal, and an apology for suspecting him of the incidents that had happened around the ranch, but at the moment he couldn't summon the words for all the anguish swirling in him.

"Caitlan's gone," he said instead, his voice sounding oddly distant even to his own ears.

Mike gave him a perplexed look. "They're taking her to County hospital. The paramedics said it looked like the bullet went clean through her shoulder and she should be fine. Heck, she'll probably be able to come back in a week or so-"

"She won't be coming back," J.T. said, his tone harsher than he'd intended.

Mike nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I guess she'd want to go back home to be with her family."

J.T. glanced up at the heavens. Caitlan's home.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he cursed all the lonely years he'd have to endure before they were joined again.

Mike touched J.T.'s shoulder, his brow creased in concern. "Hey, man, you okay?"

"I'm fine," J.T. replied gruffly, already feeling bitter resentment settling in where his heart had been ripped out. He touched the medallion, the warmth comforting him. He wouldn't allow the sweet memories of Caitlan to fade. Ever. Not as long as he wore the medallion that kept her a part of him.

With a loud boom that reverberated beneath J.T.'s feet, the sky split open and huge drops of rain and sleet fell from the heavens. Everyone headed inside the barn to stay warm and dry. Not J.T. He stood out in the storm, waiting for the numbness of the cold, icy rain to make the sorrow and heartache go away.

Amanda sat silently in the Superior's summons room, watching as Mary paced back and forth, her gauzy white gown swirling around her legs. A week had passed since she'd left Johnny, and Amanda still couldn't shake the sorrow insulating her soul. The Superiors had given her the week off to recuperate from the emotional trauma she'd sustained because of the return of her memory, but Amanda knew she wouldn't recover from this particular heartache until Johnny joined her eternally.

She hoped she could survive that long without him.

"We really botched this mission up," Mary said on a heavy sigh, looking from Amanda to Christopher. "The memory of Amanda being on earth is supposed to fade. As long as he wears the medallion it will keep him vividly connected to all the memories of Caitlan being on Earth." Exasperation laced Mary's voice.

"He won't take the medallion off so we can confiscate it," Christopher told her. "He wears it night and day."

"Send Jay to fetch it."

"No!" Amanda said, springing from her seat.

Both Superiors stared at her.

Desperation clutched Amanda's heart. How could she explain that no matter how selfish it might be, she didn't want the memory of her time on Earth to subside from Johnny's mind. They'd shared so much, had forged a new love that superseded the old feelings they'd harbored for one another as children. In a short span of time she'd matured as a woman, had experienced a passionate love so beautiful and rare, she wanted it to flourish to its fullest capacity. That dream, she knew, was an impossible one.

"You know he cannot keep the medallion," Mary said firmly after a few tense moments had passed. "It's bad enough he knew who you were, Amanda, but he cannot continue on like this."

"I know," she whispered past the tight ache in her throat. "But I don't want him to forget me."

Mary smiled gently. "He won't ever forget you. His love for you is too strong. You will always be a part of his heart, even without the medallion."

That wasn't what Amanda meant. She wanted to live in his memory with vivid clarity-Heaven help her, she wanted to be with him on Earth, feel his touch, experience the joy of his love. A chasm of loneliness echoed in her soul, and Amanda turned away, sure her misery reflected in her gaze.

The intensity of her emotions confused her. Why hadn't she felt this same anguish when she'd left Johnny the night of her eighteenth birthday?

"Amanda, what is it?" Mary asked, seemingly sensing her distress.

Amanda looked back at both Superiors, hoping they could help her understand the turmoil swirling in her. "When I first passed on to this plateau sixteen years ago I felt whole and complete and at peace with myself. Now, I hurt way deep down inside, this incredible sadness that won't recede."

Mary and Christopher exchanged worried looks.

"Why do I feel so different?" Amanda persisted. "Why do I miss him so much?"

"Your heart and J.T.'s blended before you left Earth," Mary finally admitted.

Amanda frowned. "My heart already belonged to Johnny. What do you mean?"

Mary grasped Amanda's hand, her touch comforting. "Just before you died, you both declared your love for one another at the exact moment, binding your hearts and souls more intricately than before."

Bewilderment assailed Amanda. "I don't understand. What will happen to Johnny?"

"He will be unable to love another for the rest of his mortal years," Mary replied sadly.

Christopher nodded his agreement. "Before we sent you on the mission we had designs to send him a sweet woman who would bear him two more children and see him through the rest of his years. Now, it will be useless."

"I'm so sorry," she said, ashamed for having caused so much havoc with Johnny's destiny. "I know He must be disappointed in me."

"No, child," Mary began, understanding and compassion threading her voice. "Once in a great while these things happen. He is very forgiving."

"Surely there is something we can do for her," Christopher said.

Mary shrugged. "Short of sending her back to Earth, there is nothing we can do for her heartache."

A slow smile curved Christopher's mouth. "We could petition to send her back as a mortal."

Amanda sat up, anticipation speeding up her pulse.

"Christopher," Mary admonished, squashing Amanda's hope. "That is a highly unorthodox suggestion! It's impossible."

He lifted a brow. "Nothing is impossible."

"It's an outrageous request." Mary dismissed the idea with the wave of a hand. "The board of Superiors will never approve of such an appeal."

"A love as strong as Amanda and J.T.'s is meant to be together," Christopher argued.

"I don't know about this," Mary persisted, her lips pursed. "You and your wild ideas," she mumbled, then offered Amanda an encouraging smile.

"J.T. is being extremely stubborn about letting go of the medallion and the memory of Caitlan's time on Earth," Christopher went on, championing Amanda's cause. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, radiating reassurance to Amanda while he spoke to his equal. "They've both been through so much, Mary, in their previous life and with this mission. Now that their hearts are intricately blended, both of them will be miserable until they are once again joined."

After a long minute Mary let out a defeated sigh. "You always were a softy, Christopher." Her rebuke held a note of fondness.

Christopher beamed at the compliment and squeezed Amanda's shoulders for that one small victory. "I only believe it would be in everyone's best interest if we released Amanda to spend the rest of a mortal life with her eternal love."

Mary smiled, a sudden soft, dreamy quality entering her eyes. "It is kind of romantic, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is." Christopher's grin held triumph. "Who could deny these two the love that brought them together not once, but twice?"

Mary looked thoughtful as she considered Christopher's plea. Amanda held her breath for Mary's response until her lungs began to burn.

"Oh, I suppose you're right," Mary finally relented. "It would be difficult to deny two people so deeply in love and committed to one another. Not to mention that J.T. isn't being very cooperative with the medallion."

"Precisely," Christopher stated.

"Oh, Mary, Christopher, thank you!" Amanda breathed, smiling for the first time since her mission had ended. She embraced both Superiors. Happiness chased away the gloom of despair that had hung over her since her departure from Earth.

"Don't thank us yet," Mary warned gently. "Considering the delicacy of the situation, the board of Angel Superiors must vote on releasing you. Then He must give us his blessing. This is a very rare request, one that will change the course of fate, and must be thoroughly considered before a decision is made."

"I understand," she replied solemnly, trying not to get her hopes raised. Silently, she sent Him her own heartfelt appeal, praying he'd grant her and Johnny's love the opportunity to flourish in a mortal lifetime.

"We'll give you the board's final verdict by the end of the week," Christopher promised.

Five heavenly days never seemed so long to Amanda.

J.T. stood inside the corral, holding the end of the long lead rope clipped to King's halter. With softly spoken words, he coaxed the horse into in a wide circle, allowing the spirited stallion a minimal amount of control before he started the tedious breaking process. King's blue-black coat gleamed in the sun, and he tossed his head rebelliously. J.T. knew his display was more an arrogant act than any real sign of a threat.

Every day J.T. worked with King, usually in the mornings after the hands rode out and Laura left for school. Spending time with the horse made him feel closer to Caitlan's spirit. She'd left him with the special gift of King's fragile trust. Now, it was up to him to hone that bond into something more. J.T. was determined to one day saddle and ride the stallion that had shown so much promise before Randal started abusing him.

Randal. Anger welled in J.T. He still found it difficult to believe his own cousin had tried to kill him. Randal had admitted to everything. Open murder threats, even after Randal had been apprehended, combined with his murder attempt and arson, would land him years in prison. Even though it pained J.T. to see his cousin in such a position, he refused to compromise the safety of his family or his men. Pressing charges had been difficult, but his only choice. Randal had shown no remorse for his evil deeds, or for shooting Caitlan.

Familiar grief and anguish twisted J.T.'s insides. Two weeks had passed since Caitlan had left the Circle R never to return. Two weeks since he'd become nothing more than flesh and bones, his heart merely an instrument to pump blood. He was empty inside, more lonely and desolate than he could ever remember being.

Everyone believed she'd gone to County hospital, then flown back home to be with her family. J.T. knew better, but there were times when he caught himself believing the same thing…hoping and wishing that she was a mortal and would return to the Circle R to live with him forever.

She was gone from this lifetime, and some days he didn't think he'd survive the endless years until they were joined.

She'd told him the memory of her being on Earth and the pain of losing her would ease in time. With the medallion, everything remained sharp and clear, reassuring him that he hadn't dreamed Caitlan's brief existence-reassured him he wasn't slowly going crazy.

Some days, he truly wondered.

King's canter slowed and he whinnied soulfully, bringing J.T. out of his thoughts. Coming to a stop, the stallion's ears pricked forward and he stared off into the distance. A gentle breeze blew around them, rustling the leaves in a nearby tree and scattering a warm, spring scent.

"What is it, boy?" J.T. slowly approached the horse. King glanced at him and whinnied again but didn't shy away. Reaching up, J.T. stroked his hand down King's sleek neck. "Good boy," he murmured.

"You handle him well."

J.T.'s hand froze in midstroke and his insides twisted into a huge knot of trepidation. Caitlan… Amanda. Oh, God, now he was hearing her voice. J.T. clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut to ward off the sweet voice filtering through his mind.

The corral gate unlatched, and King started forward, neighing softly. The lead rope tugged in J.T.'s hand, and he dropped it, allowing the horse to roam freely.

"Hello, King," came the feminine voice again, then light laughter that ribboned around J.T.'s soul. "I missed you too, boy," she said.

Drawing in a deep breath to release the tension coiling his body, J.T. opened his eyes and turned, finding Caitlan-Amanda, he corrected himself-rubbing King's muzzle just five short feet away from him. The horse nudged her hand affectionately, his eyes shining with devotion. J.T. stared at the two of them, the pressure in his chest increasing with each passing second. She looked so… real.

She glanced his way, her violet eyes dancing mischievously. "Is something the matter, Johnny?" The laughter in her voice belied the concern creasing her brow. "You look as though you've seen a… ghost."

"Oh, God," he choked, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "I amgoing insane!"

A beautiful smile wreathed her face. "No, you're not," she said softly. Leaving King, she approached him. The breeze sifted through her silky brown hair, ruffling the strands like caressing fingers. Like his fingers itched to do. She stood in front of him, love and promises sparkling in the depth of her gaze.

He swallowed back the thickness in his throat, unable to believe she stood within touching distance. Curling his fingers into fists, he curbed the impulse to reach for her and haul her into his arms-to reaffirm that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination.

"Amanda?" he asked tentatively, afraid if he spoke too hopefully she'd disappear like a wispy curl of smoke.

She shook her head. The bright sun shot gold threads through her hair and added a slight flush to her cheeks. "Caitlan," she corrected. "Amanda died over sixteen years ago. You know that. She can never come back."

"You left me, too, and you said you weren't coming back," he replied, unable to contain his bitterness over what had happened to her. To them. "So what are you doing here?"

She stepped closer. With a gentle smile, she lifted her hand and smoothed her palm inside the collar of his shirt. He sucked in a breath and flinched at the unexpected sensation of her fingers sliding over his collarbone.

"Caitlan," he said on a low groan infused with all the anguish filling his soul. "Why are you here?" he asked again, his voice brimming with misery. "To torment me even more than I already am?"

"No." Her fingers curled around the gold chain just inside his shirt and withdrew it and the medallion. Holding the pendant in her palm, she met his gaze steadily. "My Superiors are quite upset that you won't relinquish the medallion."

She'd come to sever the only link he had to her. The thought sent a shaft of anger through him. "I don't want to give you up, or the memories of our time together," he said fiercely, grabbing her hand and dislodging the medallion from her grasp. "I won'tgive you up, or let those memories fade, even if it means keeping the medallion. I love you, Caitlan."

Pleasure brightened her eyes and a warm, sensual smile curved her mouth. "I love you, too, John Thomas Rafferty. Even more than I thought possible." She gave him an upswept look that heated his blood. "They say the second time around is always better than the first."

Her subtle insinuation teased him, made him wish for things that could never be. His fingers circled her delicate wrist, and the pulse beneath his thumb leapt rhythmically, throbbing with vitality. His own heart thudded in unison with hers.

Damn. She felt so real, so warm. So alive.

He pushed her hand away, irritated with himself for hoping and believing in the impossible. "Dammit, go away!" he growled, spinning from her. He plowed both hands through his hair, nearly pulling out the strands in frustration. "I can't take this anymore. Just go away," he said, his voice a desperate plea.

When I turn around she'll be gone. Poof. Back to heaven where she belongs. He did, and she wasn't. Fury built in him until he wanted to explode. Why was she tormenting him this way?

"Go away!" he yelled, the words booming like thunder. Then he glanced around surreptitiously, grateful to find the area still deserted. King whinnied uncertainly at J.T.'s tone and cantered to the far side of the corral. When J.T. looked back at Caitlan, she was smiling-smiling, for chrissakes!

"I can't go away," she said, shrugging negligently. "Unless you want me to take your truck and find a motel room in town-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he cut in. He jammed his hands on his hips, his stance rigid with tension.

She tucked an errant wisp of hair behind her ear, secrets sparkling in her violet eyes. "Well, it seems you and I are stuck with one another for at least fifty-two years."

"Quit foolin' with me, Caitlan." He glared at her, annoyed with her nonchalance. "You're not making any sense, unless I'm due to die sometime soon."

"No, you're quite healthy," she said, strolling toward him with a sultry look in her eyes. "And the Superiors don't anticipate anything fatal befalling you for some time yet." Stopping in front of him, she reached out and toyed with a button on his flannel shirt, driving him to distraction with the innocent gesture.

Arousal hummed in his veins. "Caitlan," he warned. His low voice vibrated with longing and need, but he kept his control tightly leashed.

She sighed, as if put out by his insistence. "According to heavenly plan, you'll live to be eighty-six, and you'll have three more children and sixteen grandchildren." Leaning close, she walked her fingers up the front of his shirt, her expression playful. "You'll grow old with one woman. A very special woman."

His lips tightened. "Stop it, Caitlan. That won't happen." How could she think he'd marry another woman when his heart was nonexistent without her?

"It will," she vowed, sliding her palm back inside his shirt, this time to seek out warm, firm flesh, then his nipple. She rolled the nub gently between her fingers, and he drew in a quick breath, his eyes flaring. A siren smile lifted her lips. "Do you think you can put up with me for another fifty-two years?"

"Oh, God," he groaned. He stepped back, stunned at what she was suggesting. His spine bumped against the fence railing, preventing him from escaping her.

She laughed lightly. "There you go again, Johnny, looking as though you've seen a ghost."

Realization slowly dawned, and he stared at her incredulously. He found it difficult to believe Caitlan could truly be his in this lifetime. "How…" He couldn't even find the words to ask the hundreds of questions whirling in his mind.

The look in her eyes told him she understood his confusion. "Between you keeping the medallion and me moping around heaven, Christopher and Mary decided to put us both out of our misery." Caitlan went on to explain how their hearts had entwined so intricately when they'd both declared their love at the same moment. "However, the board of Angel Superiors had to vote on my release, and they almost didn't discharge me from my guardian duties because of the drastic changes it would cause in destiny." She glanced heavenward, smiling appreciatively. "But then He made the final decision and blessed us with a full, rich life together." She transferred her gaze to J.T., her expression impish. "And here I am."

J.T. glanced down the length of her, then back up, frowning. It couldn't be as easy as that. "You took a bullet for me. Everyone thinks you went back home, to Chicago. What will they think when they see you?"

"I'm sure they'll think I recovered from my injury quite nicely." She pulled back the collar of her shirt, showing him the puckered flesh she'd acquired as a result of being shot. "And then they'll think I came to my senses and realized I couldn't live without you."

He glanced at the stitched wound, realizing she'd saved his life not once but twice. This whole angel business still boggled J.T.'s mind, and he knew it would take him a while to understand it all.

"Are you really real?" he whispered, disbelief still holding him captive.

"Flesh and blood." Holding his gaze, she moved closer, until the tips of her boots pressed to his. "Touch me, Johnny."

Tentatively, he raised his hand and cupped her cheek, his fingers caressing silky soft skin. The muscles in his stomach tightened. She closed her eyes and sighed, nuzzling into his palm. A frisson of heat spread up his arm and throughout his body, awakening senses that had shut down when she'd left him. Caitlan felt real, alive; but then, he'd thought that while she'd been a guardian angel.

Then touching her wasn't enough. Sliding his fingers into her hair to cradle the back of her head, he slipped an arm around her, bringing her body flush to his. She flowed into him, becoming a part of him. Reveling in the way her soft contours matched his harder ones, he stared into her bright violet eyes, seeing every feeling in his heart reflected there.

She linked her arms around his neck. Lashes fluttering closed, she pulled his head down to her. "Kiss me, Johnny," she breathed. "I need you."

With a groan of complete surrender, he dropped his mouth over hers, drinking in the honeyed taste of her. The silken glide of his tongue stroked over hers, then deeper, demanding her acquiescence. She yielded, body and soul.

He broke the kiss, breathless and aroused. Hugging her to him, he absorbed her warmth, wishing they were in the privacy of his bedroom, instead of standing out in the corral with King watching them.

Then he decided he didn't really care, because he wanted everyone to know the depth of his love for Caitlan. Holding her left hand, he knelt in the dirt on one knee before her. She glanced down at him, surprise and a touch of delight entering her eyes.

"Johnny?"

"Caitlan, will you marry me?" he asked, his voice strong and sure.

She smiled, her dimple creasing her cheek. "Seems I've heard those words before."

"Except this time I'm never letting you go," he said, twining their fingers together. "You're mine, Caitlan. Now and forever."

"Yes, Johnny," she whispered, love and eternal loyalty glistening in her eyes.

"You'll marry me?"

"Try and stop me."

Joy poured through him, and his body shuddered in relief. Standing in a fluid motion, he kissed her again to seal their vow-a slow, lazy kiss that held the promise of so much more. Her love wrapped his heart and soul in contentment, filling every aching, lonely part of him.

Minutes later, they came up for air, lightly pressing their foreheads together. Caitlan's finger followed the gold chain around his neck to the medallion between them. Holding the golden pendant, she pulled back to look into his eyes.

"I don't think we'll be needing this anymore."

"Not even for a keepsake?"

She shook her head, her mouth lifting in humor. "No."

He sighed, reluctant to give up something that held so much significance. Taking off the medallion, he held it in his palm, a sudden knowledge filling him. Looking deeply into Caitlan's eyes, he smiled. "You're right. I have everything I could ever want right here in my arms. And I don't want your Superiors looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives."

"Then let's give it back."

J.T. stepped back and looked up at the stretch of clear blue sky above them, holding the medallion tightly in his palm. Gratitude wove through him, and he whispered, "Thank you for giving me Caitlan back."

"Take care of yourself and Caitlan. You won't be given another chance."

Stunned by the voice he heard out of nowhere, J.T. glanced sharply at Caitlan.

She laughed lightly, seemingly having heard the advice, too. "No, you're not going crazy," she confirmed.

"Thank God," he murmured. Looking at the medallion one last time, he took a deep breath, then drew back his arm and pitched the gold pendant straight up into the air.

He grabbed Caitlan's hand, and together they watched sparks of sun dance off the gold disk as it soared higher and higher into the sky. A second later, a flash of light burst the medallion into glittering stardust that shimmered like tiny angels up into the heavens, showering love and peace all around them.