by Lisa Jackson
Lights were already glowing from the windows as the sky darkened and night crept over the landscape. Oscar, lying on the front porch, let out a quiet “woof” and thumped his tail, but Bliss barely heard him. Through the screen door she heard the sound of voices. Loud voices.
“Look, Lafferty, I don’t like the game you’re playin’ with Bliss.” John Cawthorne’s voice brooked no argument.
Bliss stopped dead in her tracks. Mason was here?
“I’m not playing any games.” Mason’s voice, clear, calm and cold.
“She’s falling for you again. Just like before.”
“This time it’s different, Cawthorne.”
Different? What was he talking about? Bliss’s heart was like a drum, pounding out a wild, erratic cadence.
“Trust me.” Mason’s voice was stern. Determined. Oh, God, how she loved him. She was about to walk inside but held back. The air was charged and she knew, deep in her heart, that she should just walk back to the stables and forget every word that was being said. Or she should announce herself and barge into the kitchen. But still she hung back, her throat as dry as a desert wind, her heart pumping madly.
“The day I trust you is the day I give up the ghost, Lafferty. I wanted you as far away from my daughter as possible. I thought I made that clear a few years ago. Seems to me we had an agreement.”
“It’s off.”
“I paid you good money.”
Bliss bit her lip. She knew about the cash. So what was the big deal? She reached for the handle of the door.
“Just like the money you paid Terri to pretend she was pregnant?” Mason demanded.
What? Bliss’s heart stopped. Surely she’d heard wrong.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, son.”
“Sure you do, Cawthorne. Paying me to stay out of Bliss’s life wasn’t enough, was it? You bought yourself some insurance by sweetening the deal with Terri. Fortunately for you, she was only too willing to go along with the scam.”
No!
“You’re just blowin’ smoke, Lafferty.”
“Am I?” Mason snorted. “I only wish I’d been smart enough to demand the results of a pregnancy test before I married her.”
Oh, God, please, no! Bliss’s knees nearly gave out. With one hand she balanced herself against the post supporting the roof. Was she hearing correctly? Had her father actually talked Terri into lying? Paid her off? What?
“If I live to be a hundred,” Mason said, “I’ll never believe another woman.”
“Even Bliss?”
“I think we should leave her out of this.”
“She’s the reason you and I are at odds, boy.”
A few passing seconds seemed like an eternity. “Bliss wouldn’t set me up and try to trap me into marriage with a baby—even a nonexistent one like Terri did.”
Bliss’s insides were shaking.
“And besides, Terri was coached, wasn’t she? By you.”
No!
John clucked his tongue, then sighed audibly. “So Terri blamed me? Always knew she couldn’t be trusted.”
“I saw the records, Cawthorne. When I got suspicious, I paid a kid who worked in the lab for a copy of all of Terri’s reports. When I confronted her, she told me the whole sick story.
“Of course, by the time I got the news, it was too late.” Bliss heard the scrape of boots. “I was already married and guess what? By that time Terri really was pregnant.”
“And you ended up with a daughter.”
“The only bright spot in this whole sordid deal. In fact, Dee Dee was worth all of this. But now it’s time to come clean.”
“You want me to tell Bliss.”
“I think it would be a good idea.”
“It’ll never happen, Lafferty,” her father said, but his tone was less firm than before. “Because, unless I miss my guess, Bliss will never believe you.”
Dear God. Was her father really so controlling that he would interfere in her life to the point of all this lying and deceit? Fury pumped through her blood and her fingers curled into fists of rage. To think that—
“It was Margaret’s idea.”
“What?” Bliss couldn’t stop the word and suddenly there was silence—hollow, soul-numbing silence. Steeling herself, she yanked hard on the door handle and marched, ready to do bodily harm if necessary, into the house. Oscar gave out an excited yip and followed her inside, but she ignored the dog and glared at her father. “Why are you lying?” Bliss asked her father.
“So that’s the way it was. I wondered,” Mason said. His face was set and hard, his eyes slits as he stood, his hips balanced against the kitchen counter, his arms folded over his broad chest.
The odors of day-old coffee and floor wax drifted to her nostrils. The only noise for a few long seconds was the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock.
“I didn’t know you were listening,” her father said.
“I didn’t mean to, but I think you’d better explain.”
Sighing loudly, John reached into his breast pocket for a nonexistent pack of cigarettes and avoided the accusation in Bliss’s gaze. He found a plug of tobacco in his back pocket.
“It’s the truth,” he admitted with a lift of one thin shoulder. “Margaret was undone when I let it slip that you were getting involved with one of the ranch hands. She was certain you were going to make the same mistake she did, and since she knew all about Brynnie…well, she threatened to expose Brynnie as my mistress, divorce me and take me to the cleaners. In addition to all that, she was determined to make sure that you never spoke to me again.”
Trembling with rage, Bliss leaned over the table and stared at her father—so old, so tired, so forlorn. “I don’t believe a word of this.”
He blinked before looking at her again. “It’s true, Blissie, and you meant so much to me that I caved in and bribed Terri to claim she was pregnant. Then, after the accident, when you were so hurt, I worked a deal with Mason.” He wiped a hand over his brow and closed his eyes for a second.
“Oh, Dad, how could you?” Bliss suddenly felt cold to the marrow of her bones. She didn’t want to believe that either of her parents would be so manipulative.
“It was for your best interests,” her father said.
“My best interests? Didn’t I have a say in them?” Stunned and reeling, she nearly fell into one of the chairs at the table and fixed her gaze on the man who had sired her.
“You were seventeen. Didn’t know up from sideways.”
“But it was my life. Mine!” She thumped her fingers against her chest. “You had no right—”
“I saw you with Lafferty and knew it would only be a matter of time before you got yourself into big trouble, so I went along with your mother.”
“I can’t believe it.” Bliss cradled her head in her hands. All these years. All the lies. “You…you could have ruined so many lives. Mine. Mason’s. Terri’s.”
“No one was really hurt,” John argued.
“Untrue. We were all hurt.” She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes at the thought of her parents’ betrayal. Whatever their reasons were, there was no excuse, no explanation good enough to justify their actions. “Just because I wasn’t ‘of age’ or whatever you want to call it, didn’t mean I didn’t have feelings, that I shouldn’t have some say in my life!”
Her father’s jaw was rock hard. “I did what I thought best.”
“Because you were coerced into it by Mother.”
“She loved you more than life itself, Blissie. You know that.” He blinked, as if the thought of his wife and how he’d treated her brought tears to his eyes. “We were the best parents we knew how to be.”
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered.
“Believe it.” Mason’s voice was hard and the wrath in his gold eyes reflected his years of pain. “We were both deceived, Bliss.”
“And what about you?” she demanded, hurting and raw, as she stared at Mason. “Taking money
from Dad, staying away from me and never looking back.” Mason, too, had used her.
“I’m sorry,” Mason said. “I should have come to you in the hospital and explained—”
“Explain what? That twenty-five thousand dollars meant more to you than I did? That…that you were willing to marry another woman rather than face me again? I never thought I’d say this,” she whispered, anger burning through her, “but you’re a coward, Mason Lafferty, and I thought I loved you. For years I believed…” Hot tears stung against her eyelids. “I—I mean—Oh, just forget it” She couldn’t stand to remain another second in the house and turned and hurried out the door.
“Bliss, wait!” Mason yelled. “Oh, before I forget why I came here, Cawthorne, this is yours.” There was a slap of paper on a hard surface. “The deed to this place, signed back to Brynnie. Now it’s official. I don’t want your spread anymore, Cawthorne. I don’t want anything of yours.”
“Includin’ my daughter?”
Bliss didn’t wait for Mason’s answer. She ran down the steps, across the yard to the paddock where Fire Cracker was grazing. Run. Get away now. You’ve already lost your heart to Mason, but you can’t let him know. Tears streamed from her eyes. Dear God, she’d fallen in love with him all over again. The one man she didn’t dare trust with her heart seemed to have it in a crushing grip that she couldn’t pry open. How many nights had she dreamed of lying naked in his arms, oblivious to anything but the feel of his breath against her bare skin? How many hours had she spent thinking of him, wondering if there was any way they could have a future together?
“Wait a second!” Mason’s voice and the sound of his boots crunching on gravel caught up with her.
She headed straight for the mare. Hearing the commotion, the horse snorted and pricked her ears forward. Overhead, swallows disturbed from their nests, dipped and fluttered near the eaves of the stables.
“I said, wait,” Mason nearly yelled as he caught up with her.
She whirled and almost ran into him in the darkness. “Why?”
“Because we should talk this out.”
“We could have. When you found out the truth—which, it sounds like, was years ago. But no, you kept it a secret. Were you ever going to tell me?” she demanded, angling her furious face upward and feeling heat pulsing in her cheeks. Curse the man! He was just too damned sexy with his thin lips, thick-lashed eyes and taut, tanned skin over high, angry cheekbones. Just staring into his lying eyes caused a rolling, needy sensation deep inside her. A sensation she suddenly hated.
“If and when I thought it was necessary.”
“If you thought it was necessary. What about me? This was my life, too, you know.” Brushing the condemning tears from her cheeks, she added, “I don’t need any man—not my father and certainly not you—trying to protect me or keep secrets from me or do whatever it is you thought you were doing. Okay?”
“I did what I thought was best.”
“Yeah. Just like Dad. Next time, ask me. Better yet, don’t. There won’t be a next time.”
She strode into the stables and grabbed a bridle. Mason followed and took hold of her arm. “Slow down, Bliss. We need to talk.”
She whistled to the mare—the way she’d learned from Mason so many years before.
“You should have thought of that before,” she said as the mare clomped up to her. Deftly, she snapped the bridle over Fire Cracker’s lowered head. “Goodbye, Mason,” she said, untying Fire Cracker’s reins.
“Maybe you should listen to my side of the story.”
“And maybe you should go straight to hell.” She swung onto the mare’s dusty back.
His eyes were dark with old hidden demons. “I’ve already been there and back.” He stepped forward as she jerked on the reins and dug her heels into the mare’s sides. “Bliss—”
“Hi-ya!”
Fire Cracker took off in a thunder of hooves and over the noise Bliss thought she heard Mason call after her. Damn it, woman, I love you. The words toyed with her mind, but she shoved them aside and told herself she hadn’t heard anything but the voice of the wind.
Mason experienced a sense of déjà vu as he watched her race away. The mare galloped through the twilight-dark fields and he felt every muscle in his body grow tense. Though it was a hot, sticky night, with only a few clouds drifting over the glittering stars, he was reminded of another time, in this very spot, when heavy raindrops had veiled his vision and Bliss had ridden, hell-bent for leather, into the heart of a lightning storm.
This time was different.
Or was it?
A deep, frightening dread inched up his spine and though he told himself he was every kind of fool, that he didn’t believe in fate or premonitions or anything remotely touching predestination, he couldn’t shake the feeling.
He’d come here to give the old man his deed back, and that accomplished, he should just leave, but instead of his footsteps taking him to his truck, he half ran to the tack room, snagged a saddle, blanket and bridle and found Lucifer grazing in a nearby field. With a sharp whistle, he gained the stallion’s attention and within minutes he was astride the blue-eyed pinto, chasing after Bliss and feeling his fear mount with each of the animal’s swift strides.
“Come on, come on,” he urged Lucifer as he silently cursed himself for not watching which of the old cattle trails that webbed over the base of the hills she’d taken. He rode by instinct, sweating beneath his shirt, his eyes narrowed on the terrain ahead.
At the base of the hills, he guided Lucifer upward, heading along one of the dusty paths, hoping to catch a glimpse of Bliss or her dogged little horse. He stopped twice, listening for the sound of hoofbeats and hearing nothing but a train rumbling on distant tracks.
“She’ll be all right,” he told himself. “She’s got to be. Come on, you miserable piece of horseflesh. Run!”
Beneath branches, through swarms of insects, around stumps and boulders, the game horse ran. Across patches of moonlight and past a creek with a tumbling waterfall that sprayed a soft mist, he rode until at last the trees gave way to the ridge.
His heart stopped. He saw her silhouette, darker than the surrounding hills, astride Fire Cracker and riding wildly past the very tree struck by lightning ten years before. The old trunk was leafless and dead, the core burned black by the decade-old bolt from the sky.
“Slow down!” Mason yelled. “Bliss!”
She twisted in the saddle, her hair fanning around her.
“I love you!”
She froze, but the horse kept moving.
“Bliss—”
She gathered the reins back, slowing the mare while rocking.
“Move,” he yelled at his mount. “Come on!” He remembered the last time, how she’d nearly died. Because of him. Again! “Oh, sweet Jesus!” He kicked his horse forward. Bliss toppled. She screamed. Thud! She hit the ground with bone-cracking certainty.
Mason vaulted off his horse. “No, oh, God, no!” He reached her in an instant, dragged her crumpled body to his. “Bliss, Bliss, oh, love,” he whispered, holding her and praying to a God he’d had no words with in years that she was all right. He couldn’t have hurt her again, couldn’t have been the cause of any more pain. But a bruise and scrape marred the perfect skin near her temple and she sagged limply, as if there was no life left in her.
“I love you,” he said and felt tears clog his throat. “Please, sweetheart, don’t…” He couldn’t lose her. Wouldn’t! She was breathing shallowly, but her eyes fluttered open for an instant and a faint smile touched her lips.
“Mason,” she mouthed.
“Hang in there, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
“I…I know…” Then she drifted off again and he felt the cold mind-numbing fear that she might be lost to him forever. He whistled to his horse, rose to his feet and carried her gently. She wasn’t going to die on him, nor was she going to leave him.
It had been ten years and he wasn’t going to wait any longer. This w
oman was the only woman he’d ever loved, the only one who could touch his heart. Somehow, someway, he was going to save her.
* * *
Bliss felt as if she were drowning. The water was warm and calm, a blackness dragging her under.
“Can you hear me? Bliss?”
A voice. Mason’s voice. Oh, Lord, how she loved him.
“Blissie. Wake up now.”
Her father. And he sounded worried. So worried. About her.
“Don’t leave me.” Mason again. She would never leave him. Why would he think…? She struggled to open her eyes, only to allow a blinding flash of light to pierce her brain. Pain exploded at her temples.
“Did you see that?”
“She’s comin’ around.”
“Mason?” she said, but no sound escaped her and her throat felt as dry as sandpaper.
“I’m here, darlin’,” he replied and she felt his hand, big and callused, rubbing the back of hers. Again she tried to force her eyes open and this time, despite the painful brilliance, she managed to blink and stay awake.
“Where—where am I?”
“At the hospital in Medford,” Mason said. His face, all harsh planes and angles, was hovering over hers, and she watched as relief washed over his features.
A doctor appeared, nudged Mason aside and shone yet another light into her eyes as she lay on the starched white sheets. “You’re going to be all right,” he assured her, though she hadn’t been worried. “You’ll be able to go to your father’s wedding.”
“Good.”
“Just as long as she goes to hers,” Mason said.
She blinked again. “Wh-what?”
The doctor moved aside and Mason took her hand, linking his fingers through hers. “Marry me, Bliss.”
“Now, wait a minute—” her father protested from somewhere behind Mason.
“Forgive me and marry me.” Mason swallowed hard. “I love you. I want you to be my wife, to be Dee Dee’s stepmother. To be the mother of my children, our children.”