by Diana Palmer
“Would you…tell him I said I’m sorry?” she asked.
Patty studied her. “Wouldn’t you like to come with me and tell him yourself?”
“No!” Mandelyn took a steadying breath. “No, I don’t think so. It’s too soon yet.”
“Well, I’ll relay the message. Feel better now? He isn’t hurt. He’s just dented.”
Mandelyn nodded. “Thanks for coming by. I’m sorry I was ratty.”
“No problem. I know what guilt can do to people. Say, you weren’t getting sweet on Carson, were you?”
“Who me?” Mandelyn laughed nervously. “As you said, that would be something, wouldn’t it?”
“A pretty wild match. What interesting kids you’d have. Okay, I’m going!” she laughed when Mandelyn started to look homicidal. “See you!”
Mandelyn sat by the window for a long time, thinking over what Patty had said. Bits and pieces of conversation came back to her, and she began to realize that it might have been true. Carson might have been falling in love with her. But whatever he’d felt before, he hated her now. He hated her for trying to live in the past with Ben, and for what she’d said to him at the ballet. He hated her for making him feel worthless and savage.
She fixed herself a light supper, trying to decide what to do. Her life was so empty now that she didn’t know how she was going to survive. Perhaps she could go back to Charleston.
That thought appealed for only a few minutes. No, she couldn’t leave Sweetwater. She couldn’t leave Carson. Even if she only caught glimpses of him for the rest of her life, she couldn’t bear being half a country away from him.
Several times, she went to the telephone and stared at it, wanting to call him, wanting to apologize. Or just to hear his voice. Finally, after dark, she dialed Patty’s number.
“Hello,” Patty said cheerfully.
“It’s Mandelyn. Is…is Carson still there?”
“No, honey, he went home to nurse his bruises alone,” Patty said. “He’s feeling pretty low, though. You might try him there.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“My pleasure,” Patty murmured, and a male voice laughed softly in the background.
Mandelyn hung up, smiling faintly. It had sounded like Jake’s voice, and she was glad that for Patty, at least, the long wait was over.
She dialed Carson’s number and waited and waited until finally he picked it up.
“Hello,” he said deeply, in a defeated kind of voice.
She was afraid he’d hang up on her. So she only said, very softly, “I’m sorry.”
There was a long pause. “Why apologize for telling the truth?” he asked coldly.
At least he was talking to her. She sat down and leaned back against the sofa with her eyes closed. “How are you?”
“I’ll live,” he said curtly.
She couldn’t think of anything to say. Except, maybe, “I love you.” Because she did, so desperately. Patty had said that he loved her, but those days were gone for good. She knew she’d killed the delicate feelings he had for her.
“Do…do you need anything?” she asked hesitantly.
“Not from you, Mandelyn.”
She knew that, but hearing it hurt. She swallowed down the tears. “I just wanted to see how you were. Good night.”
She started to hang up, but he said her name in a way that made her toes curl up.
“Yes?” she whispered.
There was a long pause and she held her breath, hoping against hope for some crumb, some tiny clue that he still cared.
“Thanks for the lessons,” he said after a minute. “I’ll put them to good use.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, and hung up. Maybe Patty was wrong, she thought desperately. Maybe there was a woman neither of them knew about, a woman in Phoenix or some other town. And that thought tortured her long into the night.
Chapter Nine
The next few days were agonizing ones for Mandelyn. She lost her appetite for food, for living itself. For the first time, work wasn’t enough to sustain her. And her memories of Ben, which had kept her going for years, had become nothing more than pleasant episodes from the past. She missed Carson. It was like having half of her body cut away and trying to live on what was left.
Once, she accidentally ran into him in the local fast-food restaurant. She’d stopped to get a cold drink as she walked back to her office after an appointment, and he was just coming out.
Her heart leapt up into her throat and she dropped her eyes. She couldn’t even look at him. She turned around and went back the way she’d come without bothering about the cold drink. The look in his eyes had been chilling enough.
The second week, Patty stopped by the house to invite Mandelyn to go with her to the Sweetwater Rodeo.
“Come on,” Patty coaxed. “You’ve been moping around for days. You need some diversion.”
“Well…”
“You can go with Jake and me,” she coaxed, grinning. “Things are going very well indeed in that department, by the way. I’ve almost got him hooked.”
Mandelyn smiled. “I’m happy for you. I really am.” But she couldn’t bear the thought of driving in the pickup with Jake and hearing him talk about Carson. “I’ve got something to do earlier in town, though, so I’ll just drive in and meet you there. Okay?”
“Okay.”
She imagined Carson would be there, and she almost backed out at the last minute. But he’d be a competitor, as he usually was, and she wouldn’t get close to him. She’d be able to see him, though. And the temptation was just too much for her hungry heart. Just to see him would be heaven.
She left her house fifteen minutes before the rodeo started and had a devil of a time finding a parking space at the fairgrounds. She managed to wedge her car in beside a big pickup and left it there, hoping she could get out before the owner of the pickup wanted to leave.
Patty waved to her from the front of the bleachers, where she was sitting beside Jake, his arm around her.
“Just in the nick of time,” Patty said. “Better late than never, though.”
“I couldn’t find a parking spot. Hi, Jake,” Mandelyn said as she sat down next to Patty. It was as if they had changed roles for the day—Patty was in a green print sundress and Mandelyn in jeans and boots and a blue tank top with her hair loose and sunglasses perched atop her head.
“Hi, Miss Bush,” Jake said with a wicked smile. “I didn’t know you liked rodeos.”
“I like a lot of strange things these days,” she returned. “Looks like you didn’t need to learn the guitar after all.”
Jake laughed and hugged Patty close. “Good thing, since I’ve got ten thumbs.” He glanced toward her curiously. “Boss is riding today.”
Her heartbeat faltered. “Is he?”
“In the steer wrestling and bronc riding. He’s been practicing. We got two steers with permanently wrenched necks and one poor old bronc with a slipped disk.”
“Nasty old Carson,” Mandelyn said.
“I expect he’ll take top money.”
Mandelyn glanced around the ring, looking for a city woman somewhere. “Doesn’t he have a cheering section with him?” she asked with barely concealed curiosity.
Jake and Patty exchanged amused glances. “Sure. Right here. We’re it.”
Mandelyn glared toward the dirt ring. “Amazing. I would have thought the object of his affections would be around somewhere. How’s the house looking?”
“Just great,” Jake returned. “He’s kind of lost interest, though. Says it’s no use anymore.”
“There isn’t any woman,” Patty murmured under her breath. “I’ve told you already, it was you.”
Mandelyn’s face went hot and red. “Not now.”
“Do you stop loving people just because you get angry with them?” Patty asked.
No, Mandelyn thought miserably. She’d never stop loving Carson. But what good would that do her? She’d just die of unrequited love, that was all.
He rode magnificently, Mandelyn thought dreamily, watching his lean figure. His bat-wing chaps flew, his body whipped elegantly, gracefully, as it absorbed the shock of the bronc’s wild motions. And by the time the horn blew, everybody knew that top money was going to Carson that day.
“Damn, isn’t he good?” Jake laughed.
“I thought you’d be riding this time,” Mandelyn remarked.
Jake looked down at Patty with a dreamy expression. “No. I’ve got more important things on my mind.”
Patty blushed and snuggled closer and Mandelyn felt empty and cold and alone.
The sun beat down as rider after rider competed in bulldogging and calf roping. And then came steer wrestling. Carson was the last competitor, and there was a wild cheer as he came down off the horse squarely in front of the long horns of the animal. He dug in his heels, gave a quick, hard twist with his powerful arms, and the steer toppled onto the ground. Applause filled the bleachers, but Mandelyn was holding her breath as Carson got to his feet. The bull headed straight for him.
“No!” she screamed, leaping to her feet. “Carson!”
But it was all unnecessary. Lithe as a cat, he was onto the fence rail even as the animal charged. The rodeo clown made a great production of heading the steer off, finally leaping into a barrel and letting the animal work its frustration off by rolling him around.
Mandelyn managed to sit back down, but her face was white. Patty put an arm around her.
“Hey,” she said gently. “He’s been doing this a long time. He’s okay.”
“Yes, of course he is,” Mandelyn said, swallowing down her fear. She clasped her hands tight in her lap and sat stiffly until the end of the competitions.
Later, she was about to head for her car when Patty caught her arm and tugged her along the aisle behind the pens. Carson was just loading his horse into the trailer behind the ranch pickup, and Jake went forward to shake his hand.
“Hey, boss, you done good.” Jake grinned. “Congratulations.”
“And you kept saying you were too old,” Patty added, hugging him. “I was proud of you.”
He hugged her back, smiling down at her in a way that twisted Mandelyn’s heart. At least he and Patty were still friends. She hadn’t wanted to come this close; she hadn’t wanted to have to talk to him.
He looked up and saw her and his face froze. His expression went from sunshine to thunderstorm in seconds.
“We’re going to see Billy for a minute,” Patty called. “Be right back!”
She dragged Jake away, looking smug and triumphant. Mandelyn twisted a knot in the necklace she was wearing while Carson glared at her.
“You…did very well,” she said, hating the long silence.
Around them, animals snorted and whinnied, and there was a loud buzz of conversation among the milling cowboys.
“I didn’t expect to find you at a rodeo,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “It isn’t exactly your thing, is it?”
“I like rodeos, actually,” she returned. Her eyes went down to his opened shirt, and there was a red welt across his chest, visible through the mat of black curling hair. “Carson, you’re hurt!” she burst out, moving close to him with wide, frightened eyes. “The bull got you…!” She reached out her fingers to touch it, and even as they made brief, electric contact with his skin, he’d caught her wrist bruisingly hard and pushed her away.
His eyes blazed like blue lightning. “Don’t touch me, damn you!” he whispered furiously.
Her face went white. She could feel every single drop of blood draining out of it as she stared at him, horrified. So it was that bad. She was so repulsive to him that he couldn’t even stand to have her hands on him now. She wanted to crawl off and die. Tears burst from her eyes and a sob tore out of her throat.
She whirled and ran sightlessly through the crowd, crying so hard that she didn’t hear Carson’s wild exclamation or his furious footsteps behind her. She pushed people aside, jumped over saddles and trailer hitches and ran until her lungs felt like bursting. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get away. It was the only thought in her tortured mind.
She rounded the corner of the fence and squeezed by the pickup and into the front seat of her car. She was so blinded by tears that she could hardly see how to get the key into the ignition, but she managed it. She’d just started the car and was fumbling it into reverse when the door was jerked open and a lean, angry hand flashed past her to turn off the ignition and pull out the key.
“You little fool, you’ll kill yourself trying to drive in that condition!” Carson said harshly. He was breathing hard as he stared down at her furiously.
The tears grew more profuse. “What the hell does it matter?” she asked brokenly. “I don’t care if I die!”
“Oh, God,” he ground out. He eased himself into the front seat beside her, facing her. His hands framed her face and he brought her mouth under his, tasting tears and mint and trembling lips. And the sob that rose from her throat went into his hard mouth, mingled with his rough breath.
He eased her head back against the seat with the pressure of his lips. His tongue caressed her, probed into the soft sweet darkness of her mouth. His sweaty chest pressed against her soft breasts and she could feel the hardness of muscle and the warmth of flesh and the wild thunder of his heart.
It was so sweet. So sweet, after all the long days and nights of wanting and needing and loving and pain. She slid her hands over his shoulders, up into the thick dampness of his hair and sighed shakily as her mouth opened and answered the tender pressure of his own.
His lips lifted, then came down again, kissing away the tears and the pain while she sobbed softly and tried to stop crying.
“Carson,” she whispered achingly.
“It’s all right,” he whispered back. His hands trembled on her face. He kissed her again, so tenderly that it hurt, and she moaned.
“I’m so hungry…for you,” she moaned. “So hungry…for your mouth, your…hands.”
“Baby…” he protested.
She crushed her mouth against his, drowning in sensual pleasure as he answered the hard kiss. His arms slid under her, pulling, crushing, and she thought if she died now, it would be all right. Life would never offer anything more beautiful than this, than Carson wanting her.
A long time later, she felt his mouth lift, and the breeze cooled her moistened lips. Her eyes opened, dark gray, still hungry, worshipping his face.
His nostrils flared. His own eyes were fierce and hot with unsatisfied passion.
“I want…to have you,” she whispered softly, searching his eyes.
His eyes closed. His teeth clenched. “It’s no good! It won’t change anything!”
“It will give you peace,” she said, smoothing his hard face gently.
His eyes opened again, searching hers, and there was pain and hunger and loneliness in them.
She managed a tremulous smile. “Patty said once that I should seduce you. That you’d probably let me.”
His fingers traced her mouth, unsteady and gentle. “That would be one for the books, wouldn’t it? A shy little virgin seducing an outlaw like me?”
“Would you like it?” she whispered, wide-eyed.
He trembled before he could get his body under control, and she touched his hair, his face, with hands that loved the feel of him.
“I’d be…very careful with you,” she said unsteadily, on a nervous laugh. “I wouldn’t even let you get pregnant, I promise.”
He burst out laughing, but his eyes were solemn and quiet. “Mandy…”
“Please,” she whispered, beyond pride.
a harsh word. “Look, it’s no use,” he said after a minute. “You and I are too different. Desire…it fades. So I want you. And you want me. But
if we had each other, it wouldn’t solve the problem. It would only make things unbearable.” He sighed roughly and put her away from him. “No, honey. You go your own way. Someday you’ll find some cultured dude with fancy manners and you’ll live happily ever after. I was a fool to think anything would change. Goodbye, Mandelyn.”
He got out of the car and left her sitting there, staring after him. She thought about what he’d said and a slow, easy smile came to her lips. That one tremor had given him away. She dried her tears and drove back to the house. She had things to do.
About midnight, she had a nice warm bath and doused herself in a faint, subtle perfume. She powdered her smooth, pink body and pulled on a button-up yellow dress, and nothing else. She brushed her hair until it shone. Then she slid into her sandals and got in her car and drove to Carson’s house.
The lights were all off. She ran up onto the front porch, sure that the boys were all gone because it was Saturday night. She smiled wickedly as she thought about what she was going to do. Drastic situations called for drastic measures, and nobody had ever been this desperate, she decided. She knocked hard on the door, noticing that the woodwork was freshly painted. The porch looked nice. Very white and different, and there was a white porch swing and rocking chairs, too. She approved of the renovation.
There were muffled curses and thuds as she knocked again. The door flew open and Carson stood there, in the lighted room, without a stitch of clothing on his powerfully muscled, hair-roughened body.
Chapter Ten
Carson blinked, staring at her as if he thought he was having a dream. “Mandy?” he asked softly.