Then the darker side of the story came, the ending to the beginning of J.T. and Amanda's life together.

"We were on our way to tell her parents about our engagement when a drunk driver hit us head on." J.T.'s voice vibrated with gut-wrenching loss. "Amanda was killed instantly."

At that moment Caitlan was thrust into a maelstrom of visions and emotions that echoed through her body and brought on a splitting headache that made her gasp.

The screech of brakes. The grind of metal against metal. Screams that seemed to rip from her soul. Shattering glass. Horrible, awful pain. Darkness. Then a burst of light at the end of a black corridor, accompanied by a peacefulness as she drifted up and away, toward the sky.

The medallion burned like fire between Caitlan's breasts, and she pulled the gold pendant out of her blouse, wanting more than ever to summon her Superiors and ask them what was going on and why she was experiencing such intense recollections that made no sense to her. And why, heaven help her, had she experienced Amanda's terror and anguish during the car crash?

"Caitlan? Are you okay?" J.T.'s hand was on her knee, shaking her back into the present.

Caitlan blinked, and the tears gathered in her eyes rolled down her cheeks. She dropped the hot medallion, deliberately setting it on the outside of her blouse until it completely cooled.

Hand trembling, she wiped away the moisture on her cheeks, still stunned by her reaction to his tale. Sniffling, she offered J.T. a wobbly smile. "That's such a sad story."

"Don't cry, Caitlan. It happened sixteen years ago." J.T. sat up. Caitlan's tears affected him deeply, because he knew they were genuine and offered in compassion. God, she was so sweet and pure, so unpretentious and giving-the same qualities he'd loved in Amanda and had thought no other woman possessed.

He thumbed another tear from her cheek, loving the silky texture of her skin. "I've learned to live with the loss, but I'd be a liar if I said I've never wondered what my life would be like if Amanda hadn't died. I still think about it. And sometimes I've even wished I would have died instead of her."

Caitlan's eyes widened slightly. "No!"

Her heated protest made him smile. "Yeah, you're right. Then I never would have had Laura." Then I never would have met you. Unable to define where that had come from, he mentally shook the thought right out of his head.

And just as easily another thought took its place. He wanted to kiss her, and the soft, sensual look in her violet eyes said she wanted it too. But he'd tasted her before, and he knew better than to think he'd be able to put her aside after one kiss. No, if his mouth so much as touched hers, he wouldn't stop until they'd made love-and it would be a long, slow, lazy process because he'd want to taste and explore every inch of her. Even then he couldn't guarantee that would be enough to satisfy him. Not with her.

His eyes slid from her parted lips to the pendant around her neck: the pendant she'd clutched so desperately only minutes before. The gold glowed as if it held a life of its own, just like the first time he'd seen it in the line shack while she'd checked his head injury. This time, he gave into temptation and picked up the medallion. The warm gold tingled in his palm as he examined the swirled design.

He glanced up at her. A banked wariness lit her eyes, and he noticed she watched him closely. "Where did you get this?" he asked easily.

J.T. heard the reluctance in her voice when she replied, "Its been in the family for years."

"It's… different." The medallion did look like a family heirloom, but there was something else about it that lured and fascinated him. He rubbed his thumb over the surface, and a heat radiated up his arm, tingling along his nerve endings. Then, incredibly, he felt a pull on his senses, like a huge magnet drawing the very life out of him. He was powerless to stop it from happening. In the next instant a part of him seemed to merge with Caitlan, in her mind, in her soul, a union so extraordinary in its power and beauty, he felt intimately joined with her, heart, body and soul. The pendant blazed like fire in his hand and he let it drop back to her blouse.

The whole exchange had happened so fast, he wondered if he'd only imagined the odd experience. The startled look in Caitlan's eyes confirmed that something had passed between them, but he couldn't bring himself to ask and possibly look like a fool for suggesting a psychic encounter had momentarily linked them. The incident had been too weird for his peace of mind, like a quick out-of-body experience.

Maybe he was losing his mind, he thought.

Deciding it was time to get back on the trail and put things into proper perspective, he grabbed his hat and jammed it on his head. He stood and extended his hand to her. "It's getting late. We'd better head back."

She nodded her agreement and put her hand in his, allowing him to help her up. "Thank you," she said softly, her fingers flexing in his palm.

They stood there, neither one moving, gazes locked. Caitlan's eyes darkened and her cheeks flushed with awareness. Her tongue darted out to touch her lower lip, as though the lingering effects of their encounter had aroused her. J.T. swore under his breath as a surge of heat sped through his veins. Hell, his own traitorous body throbbed with sexual excitement, demanding satisfaction. For a reckless second J.T. thought about damning consequences and lowering his mouth to hers and letting things proceed from there. Lord knew they both wanted each other, the sexual tension between them so palpable nothing but a physical joining could ease it.

Knowing nothing could come of them making love, despite the closeness they'd established this afternoon, J.T. summoned every source of willpower he possessed. He tried to convince himself that Caitlan would be grateful he hadn't taken advantage of the situation once she was back in the city, where she belonged, heart intact.

Distance, Rafferty; you need to put distance between you. Letting go of her hand, he stepped away. "You fold the blanket and I'll get the horses," he said in a rough voice. He headed toward Quinn and Blaze, hating the glimpse of hurt he'd seen in Caitlan's gaze. He swore again. Didn't she know how difficult it was to walk away from the sweet promise in her eyes?

Once they were packed up and mounted, J.T. spurred Quinn into a heavy gallop, as much to work off his frustration as to get back to the house and around people so Caitlan wouldn't be such a temptation. He made sure Blaze kept up, but left enough distance between himself and Caitlan so that conversation was impossible.

Coming up the last hundred yards, J.T. slowed Quinn. Looking ahead, he noticed a cluster of people standing around the barn-a few hands, Frank, Kirk, and Randal. Off to the side, Paula embraced Laura in a hug, his daughter's face buried in the woman's shoulder. Laura's friend, Karen, stood beside them, looking as though she'd been crying.

A sense of foreboding twisted in J.T.'s gut. Bringing Quinn to an abrupt halt, he jumped off the horse, tossed the reins to a nearby hand, and strode toward Frank, Kirk, and Randal.

Just as he reached the trio, Laura broke away from Paula and ran toward him. "Dad!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face.

J.T. caught his daughter in his arms. She bawled against his chest, her body trembling violently as she clung to him. Momentarily stunned, he tried to console and calm her with words and gentle caresses, but she only cried harder. The words she spoke were unintelligible, garbled by her sobs and tears.

Fearing something had happened to jeopardize his daughter's life, he glanced up at his men, vaguely aware that Caitlan had come up beside him and was attempting to pacify Laura.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

The three men looked at him uneasily. Kirk spoke, his tone as grim as his expression. "Someone put Missy's kittens into King's stall."

Caitlan gasped audibly, and Laura's sobs increased.

"What?" J.T.'s fear of seconds before liquified to white-hot outrage.

"It's true." Frank shifted on his feet, glancing from Caitlan to Laura, and then back to J.T. again. "King, uh, trampled them to death."

J.T. let out a string of swear words he'd neverused in the presence of ladies before, but anger overruled his manners. "Who the hell would do such a thing?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Randal said, averting his gaze to the entrance of the barn.

J.T. glanced around for Mike. Just before leaving with Caitlan today he'd issued the man a slight reprimand. Would he be spiteful enough to kill innocent kittens? And was this incident at all related to what had happened to him at the creek? Or was this a warning of some sort from the sick person stalking him? Damn, he didn't like not being able to trust his own hands.

"Who found the kittens?" he asked.

Kirk cast a sympathetic look at Laura. "Laura and Karen found them about fifteen minutes ago."

"Ah, Smidget," J.T. murmured, rocking her gently, his heart breaking for her. "I'm so sorry."

Laura looked up at him, her eyes puffy from the tears she'd shed, misery in their depths. "They're… they're all dead." She gulped in a breath, then another sob broke from her.

"Shhh." J.T. comforted Laura for a moment longer, then gently extricated her from his arms, anxious to do some investigating. Wanting to separate Laura from the situation, he glanced at Caitlan beside him, grateful for her presence.

Except she seemed preoccupied. A troubling frown marred her brow and suspicion colored her eyes as she glared at Randal. Hell, was the woman still holding a grudge against Randal for his behavior the other night?