The Ranchers: Destiny Bay Romances Boxed Set vol. 1 (Destiny Bay Romances - The Ranchers)

by Helen Conrad

  Phyllis looked up in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  Carly looked her square in the eye. “I don’t think Joe would have married Millie, even if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. I don’t think Joe loved her that way. Ever.”

  Phyllis gave her a look of pure, unadulterated scorn. “You know nothing about it,” she said. “Past mistakes kept them apart. But, finally, everything was falling into place. Trevor was going to have Joe for a father. Beth and Jeremy were going to have Millie for a mother. And Joe was going to have the wife he’s deserved all these years.” Her penetrating eyes pinned Carly to the wall. “And then you came along.”

  Carly nodded slowly. “I haven’t done anything, you know.”

  Phyllis dismissed that as a poor excuse. “You’re here, aren’t you? Tempting Joe.”

  Tempting Joe? Somehow she’d thought it was the other way around.

  “The best thing you could do, my dear,” Phyllis advised, getting up and smoothing her blouse, “is to go on back to Washington and leave the rest of us alone. Think it over, why don’t you?”

  She gave Carly a brittle smile and left the room, but Carly was still frozen by what she’d said. Washington? Washington? Why did Phyllis always seem to know everything?

  Well, that did it. The jig was up. If she knew about Washington, she knew who Carly was, and what she did, and probably all about Mark, too. The next thing she knew, the woman would probably be threatening to go to the tabloids and ruin Mark’s career. With what, though? Damn it, she hadn’t done anything!

  Millie came breezing back into the kitchen and flopped down onto a chair. “Where’s Phyllis?” she asked brightly.

  “I’d love to say she was in full retreat,” Carly said casually. “But I’m afraid this is just a chance for her to regroup and fight another day.”

  Millie wasn’t too sure what Carly was talking about and it was obvious she was pretty sure she didn’t want to know. But before she had a chance to think of an inane topic of conversation that would keep them from the meat of any matter at all, Carly leaned forward on the table and spoke bluntly.

  “Tell me the truth, Millie,” she said wearily, her shoulders slumping, her eyelids drooping with fatigue. “Do you love Joe?”

  Millie wasn’t shocked by the question. In fact, she seemed almost to welcome it. Her face softened and she smiled. “Of course,” she said. “I’ve loved him all my life.”

  Carly reared back as though the woman had slapped her in the face. Millie laughed softly.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I said I loved him. I didn’t say I was in love with him. And you know very well he doesn’t love me. At least, not the way his mother wishes he would love me.”

  Worry? What on earth did she have to worry about? He wasn’t hers. Still, it was good to know for sure that he wasn’t Millie’s, either.

  “Would you marry him if he asked you?”

  Millie considered for a moment. “No.” She flashed Carly a quick smile. “I know it would certainly fulfill Phyllis’s dreams. She’s been scheming and planning for us to get married since we were kids. When I messed everything up by getting pregnant, she nearly died.”

  She frowned, remembering. “It was so awful. Sixteen years old and pregnant. They worked hard on me, Phyllis and my mother. They wanted me to have an abortion, not tell anyone. Not even Joe.” She smiled gently. “Of course, I went right to Joe and told him, and he helped me fight them. So then Phyllis thought, well, maybe we would end up together after all. But when Joe went away to college, he came back with Ellen on his arm. And that was the end of that.”

  How awful. If Millie had been harboring dreams all those years, it must have hurt to see Joe with another woman.

  “Did you hate her?”

  “Who? Ellen?” She smiled. “No, I didn’t hate her. She was beautiful, with long, shiny red hair and a face like a model. But she never could adjust to country life. No matter how hard Joe tried, he couldn’t make her happy. He changed everything he could to please her, but it was never enough.”

  That seemed to confirm what Joe had told her. Carly felt a wave of quick sympathy for Joe. And for Millie as well. But this was no time for sympathy. Sympathy didn’t get anyone anywhere.

  “Well, I suppose he should never have married her in the first place.”

  Millie didn’t comment on that. She thought for a minute, then went on.

  “I don’t know how much Joe has told you about Ellen, but she had a problem. She had something of a mental breakdown about a year before she left. There was instability in her background, things Joe didn’t know about, things he thought they could work through. But things just got worse. It’s hard to feel sympathy for a woman who leaves her children behind, but believe me, Ellen went through her own personal hell before deciding to do it. And you know, she could have hurt him so much worse. She could have taken the children with her and left him with nothing.”

  Carly hadn’t thought of Ellen’s departure in those terms. “You’re right,” she said softly. The thought of Joe without the kids was a heart-wrenching one. “But Phyllis must have been happy when Ellen left.”

  “Oh yes.” Millie grinned. “She was ecstatic. She was sure we would get together. She moved back in here to work on it, calling me with bulletins every day. But Joe resisted. He can be so stubborn. And he didn’t want any more females steering his life around.”

  “From what you’ve told me, I can hardly blame him.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? We haven’t done him much good, have we?”

  Carly wondered if she were included in the “we,” but it hardly mattered. Millie was right. Joe had reason to be wary of women.

  They chatted for a few more minutes, and Carly studied Millie. She was really so nice, and she loved the children, loved Joe. Phyllis was probably right. They should get married.

  That thought cut through her like a knife, and there was no reason for it. Did she want him for herself? And if she got him, what would she do with him? It was crazy, all of it.

  She should leave. But how could she leave Joe and the children? How could she miss the avocado harvest and Jeremy’s birthday, which was coming up in a few weeks?

  Suddenly she felt claustrophobic. She had to get outside, get into the fresh air.

  She rose from her chair. “Millie, I—I think I’ll go for a walk. See you later?”

  “Sure.” Millie looked concerned. “Will you be all right?”

  “Oh yes. I’ll be fine.”

  She threw back a wan smile and went for the door. She needed to be alone, and there wasn’t much time left.

  He heard the car coming up the dirt road and he didn’t turn around. He knew who it was. He did look for his shirt, but he’d hung it up a few yards away in the little caretaker’s cottage that sat like a reminder of yesterday on the corner of his lot. He certainly wasn’t going to go all that way to put it on just for her benefit.

  He swung the ax again, savoring the jolt of metal against wood, the hard clang, the shock that went through his body as he hit, the sweat that beaded and dripped from his temples, down his back, across his chest. His old, torn jeans were slung low on his hips and felt tight and threadbare against the swelling muscles of his legs. The late afternoon sun was baking his naked shoulders. As he swung the ax, he could feel every muscle in his body. And that was good. The more you felt, the less you thought.

  “Joe.”

  He stood still, not turning, the ax resting against his leg, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. Maybe if he didn’t answer her, she would go away.

  She should go away. It would be much better if she would go away and never come back. Then maybe he could wipe her out of his mind, out of his soul.

  And out of his heart. He swore softly to himself. After Ellen, he’d promised himself there would be no more women in his life. For a long time that promise had seemed easy to keep. Carly was the first real temptation he’d faced. And he’d crumbled with barely a fight. How could he hav
e let her become this important so quickly? Now he had to do something to stop it.

  “Joe,” she was saying. “I think maybe you’re right. It’s time for me to go.”

  Everything in him clenched, but he still didn’t turn around and he still didn’t say a word to her.

  “I’ve talked to Phyllis and I’ve talked to Millie, and the more I think about it... I realize you’re right. I’m just in the way here. I’m the foreign element. All I do is throw monkey wrenches into everyone’s plans. If I weren’t here...” Her voice faded and she shrugged helplessly.

  “If you weren’t here...” He turned and looked at her at last, and wished he hadn’t. She stood tall and beautiful, her silver-blond hair flying out around her shoulders, her lovely face etched in misery. It was all he could do to keep himself from reaching for her, smoothing back her flyaway hair, kissing her forehead, holding her to his chest and soothing her unhappiness.

  “What do you think would happen if you weren’t here?” he said instead.

  She shook her head. “You could marry Millie,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “The two of you could provide a home for all the children.”

  Exasperation shot through him and he threw out his arms. “How many times do I have to tell you that I have no intention of marrying Millie?” He took a step closer, face indignant. “Did I marry Millie before you got here? No. So what makes you so sure I’ll marry her once you’re gone?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Everybody wants you to.”

  He shook his head, disgusted with them all. “How about you? Do you want me to?”

  Her chin rose. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “Maybe I do.” He took a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And maybe I don’t.”

  They stared at each other, and then he threw back his head. He was falling again. Goddamn it, he couldn’t stick with his convictions for even five minutes.

  “Millie has nothing to do with this,” he told her shortly. “It’s you.”

  She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Me?” she asked, bewildered.

  “You.” His eyes narrowed and he turned his gaze toward the trees. “You came here and messed with our lives, Carly. You’ve got the kids loving you. You’ve got me...” He shook away that thought in anger. “You’ve only been here a few days and already we all depend on you. You’re not going to stay. You’re going to go back to where you came from and make your Mark idiot happy and leave us with nothing.” His anger was directed at her again, through his dark, scorching gaze. “No, that’s not right. You’ll leave us with something. A big empty gap where you used to be.”

  She felt as though she’d been hit in the stomach with something hard and heavy. She couldn’t quite catch her breath. He was only telling the truth, but... but did it have to be the truth? Things could change. She could stay....

  She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. What was she thinking? She couldn’t stay. She had a life that was waiting for her in Washington, even if Mark wasn’t a part of her plans any longer. Besides, Joe didn’t really want her to stay at all. He’d made it clear from the first, and things she’d learned about Ellen and his pain over her betrayal only confirmed it. He didn’t want to tie himself down to a woman again. Ever.

  But right now she couldn’t think straight. He was too close, too beautiful, too tantalizing. Her mind would have to go on hold; her body was taking over.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking at the interplay of muscles across his shoulder, the sinews of his neck, the hollow at the base where his pulse throbbed like the heart of a hawk. “I didn’t mean to...”

  Her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps. He was so close the heat of his body seemed to shimmer around her. She looked at his chest, at the shiny slick of sweat that covered it, at the dark, curling hairs that matted and glistened, at the brown nipples that were wide and smooth and flat, at the way the dark hair thickened around his navel, and then thickened again going down into his jeans. She could see the hard lines where his hipbones curved, see the angles where muscles were flexed.

  Her body began to throb and ache with longing. She felt like a dancer in a pagan movie, compelled to act like a wanton, compelled to reach for what she wanted most. And so she reached for him, stretched out a hand until it connected with a charge that snapped through her, and then slid her palm slowly down his chest, catching his heat in her hand.

  He stood very still while she touched him, his eyes half closed. Her hand moved up and down, caressing him as though she were in a trance, and his body began to tremble with desire. He caught hold of her hand and held it in his, held it away from his chest.

  “You shouldn’t have come up here, Carly,” he told her, his voice low and hoarse.

  “I know.” Her eyes were as clear as the sky on a spring day.

  He held her hand more tightly, fighting a battle within himself. “Why did you come?”

  She looked into his face and she smiled. “Because I couldn’t stay away.”

  His breath was coming faster and faster, but he had to make things clear to her. “You understand that... now that you’re here, I can’t let you go.”

  She nodded slowly, still caught in his eyes. “I want you, Joe,” she whispered. “Can’t you see that?”

  There was no hope left after that. He sank toward her like a man leaping into a rushing stream. His hands cupped her face, drew it to him, and his mouth took hers with a hunger that snatched her breath away.

  She clung to him, her hands sliding across his wet flesh, her mouth as hungry as his, wanting more of him, deeper, harder. She was frightened, scared to death, but she was exultant, too. Though it had only been a little over a week that she’d known him, she felt as though she’d waited for this all her life.

  Joe had waited even longer. At least, that was how it felt. Forever. For eternity. Her body was too soft to believe in, too warm to leave. He slipped his hands up under her sweater and ran them down her back, following her spine and then down under the belt of her slacks, to take hold of her soft, rounded bottom, cupping her with his fingers, pulling her toward him, pressing her to his hips. He wanted her to feel him, to make sure she knew what she was getting into, because he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to stop if she changed her mind.

  It was crazy. There were so many reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this. Not the least of which was Mark, the man she was supposedly going to marry. Mark, for whom he had a deep and abiding hatred.

  He had no idea what would happen later, where she would go, what she would do. But for now, there was no Mark. There was only the two of them, and they were in a virtual primal struggle. He had killed Mark, and she was his. His, and nobody else’s.

  He looked around groggily for where they could go. The ground was too rough and rocky here, too open. The caretaker’s cottage. It was old and empty and unused, but there was clean straw on the floor. Drawing back, he took her hand and led her quickly to it.

  Pulling her inside, he closed the door and looked at her in the gloom. “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked in a husky whisper.

  She looked into his burning eyes and reached down to pull off her sweater, bra and all. As her high, pointed breasts swung free, he made a sound deep in his throat, and reached for her with one hand, at the same time he reached for his belt with the other.

  They were on the straw, still writhing out of their clothes. Joe buried his face in her, drowning in her softness, tasting one nipple, then the other, then her navel, her long, slim thighs, the moist focus of her need. She cried out, her hips beginning to move, her sanity gone in the spiraling urgency of her longing. She reached for him and stroked, gasping at his beauty, the texture of velvet over steel, taking him, urging him to come where she needed him.

  Shudders rippled over him and he murmured her name. She whispered back, something incoherent, something that expressed her wonder, her greed for him. He pushed her back against the straw then came over her, looking
down, and she looked up at his eyes, his wide shoulders, and thought she’d never seen anything so large and dark and powerful. And he was hers. And she wanted him.

  She cried out as he penetrated, arching her hips to take him as deep as she could. And then she had to hold on, because the wild, impossible ride had begun. He came hard, again and again, and she clung to him, taking every drop of pleasure she could, riding on and on, like a princess on a stallion, holding him with her legs, her arms, her body.

  Despite his desperate need, he held off until he was sure she was well on her way, and then he let himself find the incredible release that he needed so badly.

  And when it was over, he thought he might have died. It had never been so intense before. Could a man really live through this and rise to love again?

  She lay very still. If she moved, he might move away and leave her. And she couldn’t stand to think of that happening.

  This had been an insane thing to do, but it had become impossible to avoid. The desire between them had built until it had to be released. Of course, she could have taken care of it by leaving—but, she thought dreamily, a silly smile on her happy face, that wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying. Joe knew how to make love to a woman. She’d never been so fulfilled.

  Her fingers played with his dark, curly hair. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

  “You can’t leave,” he said softly, reaching to touch her cheek with his knuckles.

  She raised her head and looked at him. Who was talking here, the real Joe, or the love-starved man who had drawn a wondrous response from her just now? “I thought you wanted me to leave.”

  He groaned. “I haven’t wanted you to leave. Not ever. You know that.” His hand stroked her throat.

  She sank back down. She knew what he was saying—that a part of him didn’t want her to leave, even though he knew it was inevitable. “I’ll have to go eventually.”

  “I know. But in the meantime...” He reached for her with both hands.