“See what you do to me? I spend half the day in pain, wanting you. Can you tell me what the heck I’m going to do when I have to go back to work next week?”
She laughed, a low sultry sound that made his cock twitch. “I could stop by at lunchtime and we could eat together in your office.”
Instantly, he pictured locking the door of his office, setting her on his desk, and sliding his hands under that micro-mini leather skirt she’d had on last fall.
“Have mercy on me, Erin. I don’t think I can wait for the bathtub to fill.” He pushed her panties aside with his fingers, and when he felt how wet she already was for him, he lifted her hips and plunged inside of her, his hips rocking back and forth.
Erin clutched him with her fingers and her femininity, her cries muffled because she had her mouth buried against his chest. Would it always be like this? Would he always be able to make Erin glow and her whole body vibrate with the need he saw in her expression? Heaven help him, he hoped so. When his fingers slid between them to caress her, she arched back and cried out.
“That’s it, baby,” Sam coaxed hoarsely. “Come for me.”
Erin shattered. She was so limp in his arms he knew she couldn’t move on her own. Sam picked her up and took them both to the oversize tub and sat in it. As the water splashed around them and onto the floor, they both laughed. Erin traced her fingers down his stubbled cheek. Sam grinned at her.
She’d changed him since she’d first arrived in Mountain Meadow. He laughed and smiled much more often, like he had when he’d first met her so many years ago.
“I love you, Sam.” She leaned back against him, smiling in enjoyment as his hands moved over her slick, wet body. She didn’t seem to want or need a response from him, one that Sam was still unable to voice, though he felt it. He loved her to the soles of his feet, but just couldn’t find the words—or the nerve—to tell her.
He could show her. And he would, every day in every way until he could tell her. Sam knew what caused his hesitation. Neither of his parents had been demonstrative. It simply wasn’t their way. So Sam had never learned to be comfortable with putting his emotions into words. But he wanted too. Soon.
* * * *
They agreed to meet Rachel Hastings at the library that afternoon. The whole way in to town, Sam went over the importance of her staying inside the library, of being aware of who was around her. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, Erin’s palms were sweating. She wiped them on her thighs and chewed on her lower lip. Smart people had always intimidated her, but to hear Sam and Evan talk, Rachel Hastings was beyond smart. She had skipped ahead grades and graduated from college early. Erin had dropped out. What could she possibly have in common with someone like that?
Sure, everyone kept reassuring her how great Rachel was. She sounded like the embodiment of everything wondrous and helpful, and that just made Erin’s case of nervousness that much worse.
As they got out of Sam’s truck, Betty Gatewood stepped up to Sam with a frown on her pug-like face.
“The town Facebook page says you got her living with you, Sam Barnes. What are you thinking, taking someone like that underneath your roof? Just because she’s a Richardson doesn’t mean she’s any better than anyone else. Your mama would roll over in her grave if she knew. And I already warned her. Lot of good it did.”
Sam’s expression was tight. “What I choose to do in my personal life is just that, Mrs. Gatewood—personal. I believe I’m old enough to make my own choices and have been for some time. Erin is also a responsible, intelligent woman fully capable of making her own decisions. If you’ll excuse us? You have a nice day.”
His grip when he took Erin’s arm was just a little stiff. She glanced at the woman who pursed her lips disapprovingly before stomping off to her mid-size sedan. Erin had noticed the looks yesterday at church. As they strode toward the building, her legs pumping to keep up with Sam’s longer strides, she glanced over her shoulder.
“Sam…”
“Betty Gatewood is the nosiest old gossip in the whole town.”
Erin tugged her arm from Sam’s grip. “Sam! I know we talked about it before, but tell me the truth. Is having me at your house going to hurt your reputation? People are posting things on Facebook about us. I mean, you’re an elected official….”
He halted, turning his nearly black gaze on her. His dark eyes snapped angrily. “You think I care about that? You’re at my house for your safety, Erin. The Betty Gatewoods of this world do not matter.”
Ouch. For her safety. Not “because I want you there” or “because I love you.”
She ducked her head and nodded, hiding her gaze from him. How many times would she tell him she loved him and get no response in return? Erin swallowed. It was familiar territory. She’d walked it as a teenager. He had kept pushing her away then too.
When Sam took her elbow again to guide her inside the library, Erin resisted the urge to shake him off. The feeling of inadequacy that had faded in recent days came roaring back as loud as a Harley at a church service.
A few people inside were looking for books or using the computers. Sam guided her past them to a table in the back corner of the library. As they approached, a slender, almost boyishly-figured woman stood. She wasn’t any taller than Erin, but standing next to her, Erin felt like a cow. This was absolutely not going to work. The woman already intimidated her. She looked like a brain and was built like an elf.
“Hi, Erin. I’m Rachel.” Her voice flowed like warm syrup over hot pancakes. The elf stuck her hand out.
Erin took it and reluctantly met her gaze. Why her eyes were just like pansies, just like everyone had said. But it was more than that. As soon as Erin looked into Rachel’s eyes, she felt warm and welcomed.
“Hi.” She smiled.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Sam rumbled from the stratosphere above them. “I want to check in at the department. I’ll be back in an hour. Will that be okay?”
“That will be enough for today.” Rachel nodded and took Erin’s hand. “Sit down. Let’s get started.”
Sam weaved his way out of the library, and Erin felt an almost overpowering urge to run after him. Her gaze shifted along the racks upon racks of books. She couldn’t remember the last time she had willingly stepped inside a library. Seeing thousands of books that were largely hieroglyphics to her was more than intimidating, it was terrifying.
“Erin?”
She swallowed and jerked her head back to Rachel who was already sitting. Her smile, just a tilting of her lips, soothed some of Erin’s nerves. How did such a tiny, delicate-looking woman handle a room full of rambunctious teens?
“Sit down, honey. Let’s just talk for a few minutes.”
Talk. She could do that. Erin sat, tried to smile but felt it came across as just a grimace.
“Sam tells me you’ve been a huge help to him during calving season, and that you even pulled a calf on your own.” Rachel’s pansy purple eyes were bright with interest. It helped Erin relax just a little
“Yes. I found out how to do it on the Internet.”
Rachel smiled. “That’s what Sam said. He said you’ve got your laptop set up so it talks to you and you can talk to it. That’s a great coping strategy for a person with dyslexia. So you’ve already learned one of the most important points for being successful in a world that relies on the written word.”
Erin laughed without any amusement. “Yeah. I wish they’d had that while I was trying to go through school.”
Rachel nodded. “Well, the technology is out there now. You know, Erin, you’re not at all alone. Conservative estimates put the number of people with dyslexia in our country between five and seven percent. Some experts say the reality could be a whole lot higher, maybe even as high as twenty percent. So many people develop their own coping mechanisms, or are just never diagnosed, that the higher figure could easily be more accurate. It doesn’t mean you’re stupid, slow, or lazy. It simpl
y means your brain is wired differently.”
Erin snorted. “Well I’ve always felt different.”
Rachel’s dark eyes softened. “We’ll work on some things to help change that, give you some more coping skills for when you don’t have access to your laptop.”
Erin felt a faint stirring of hope, but she had struggled for so long. “Can you still teach me to read, even though I’m an adult?”
Rachel covered Erin’s nervously tapping fingers.
“The good news is intensive intervention works with children and adults. Plenty of research backs that up. You may never be the world’s fastest, most fluent reader, but I can help you become more competent and confident. The other thing you need to accept is that there are many more definitions now of what it means to be literate. It’s more than being able to read. You are literate through the use of technology and text to voice programs. We’re going to work on strategies to help you with the old-fashioned kind of literacy now.”
Erin blinked, nearly overcome at the idea of being able to read, even if it was just well enough to complete a job application or read the Sunday comics without agonizing.
“I’ll work really hard.”
Rachel smiled again at her. “I know you will. I have plenty of students at the high school who are there because they have to be. Sometimes they’re a challenge to motivate. But the students who come to me because they want to? That’s a huge leap ahead already. It’s one of the reasons I volunteer my time outside of school.”
“You like what you do, don’t you?” Erin gazed at her with wonder. It was difficult to imagine actually enjoying teaching, especially when it involved reading and writing.
Rachel laughed. “Most of the time. Now, let me show you some text….”
* * * *
Sam returned to the library just under an hour later. As he approached the building, he scanned the area out of habit. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe her coming back home had been enough. They hadn’t heard anything more from her friends either. Maybe it was time to relax a bit.
When he walked inside, he immediately spotted Erin and Rachel. They sat next to each other, their heads bent over material Erin had in front of her. He could see the concentration on Erin’s face in the way her brow was furrowed. She spoke quietly to Rachel. As she finished, Rachel said something to her, and a quick flush of pleasure brightened Erin’s face.
Something twisted inside him at that moment, seeing not only the satisfaction but the sense of accomplishment in her expression. Sam stopped, afraid for a moment that he might weep for the pain it was now obvious she’d suffered her entire life, believing she was stupid, that she couldn’t do what seemed to come so easily to others. And somehow everyone had missed that, not just her parents, but everyone. Her whole life she’d been crying out for help, unable or too embarrassed to put it into words.
Like him. Unable to tell her just how much he adored her.
He saw the determination on her face and knew what he’d only partially acknowledged before. Erin Richardson was beautiful, intelligent, determined, and unconquerable—and he loved her as he had never loved another human being in his life.
As if she somehow sensed his presence, Erin caught his eye and beamed at him. Her gaze was so bright, and her face so alight with joy, he laughed from sheer happiness. As the deep sound rumbled out in the quiet library, several folks looked up disapprovingly. Seeing it was him, their eyes widened in surprise.
But he ignored them, weaving his way back through the tables to the one where Erin sat with Rachel.
“How’s it going?” He could see, but he wanted to hear it.
Rachel smiled. “She’s doing beautifully.”
Sam looked at what they were working on. It appeared to him to be simply letters and blends of letters, not actual words. He looked quizzically at Rachel. “Can I help with this on the days you don’t meet with her?”
“Sure. We’re working on training her brain to associate the sounds she knows with all the possible spellings of that sound. For example, the sound ‘shun’ at the end of a word can be spelled t-i-o-n, s-i-o-n, or c-i-o-n. Since many dyslexics don’t automatically translate the sounds in language to spelling or reading a word, I’m trying to tap into another part of her brain. It’s a little like rewiring a car or an appliance.”
Erin laughed. “Yeah, now I’m a toaster.”
Rachel laughed softly, a rich almost sultry sound. Sam truly looked at her, realizing she was far prettier than they had thought in high school with her delicate frame and her large doe eyes. Too bad Luke had moved away before he had the chance to see her transformation. Maybe it would have kept him around here. Sam missed the friendship they’d shared. Occasional phone calls just didn’t do it.
He turned back to Erin. “You ready, baby? It’ll be dark soon, and we need to get back so we can feed and bed everyone down for the night.”
Erin impulsively hugged Rachel. “Thank you.”
Rachel blushed as she smiled. “There is nothing more rewarding for a teacher than to see a student make progress. I’ll give you some material to work on, and let’s meet again day after tomorrow, okay?”
“Yes.”
Sam helped Erin on with her jacket and guided her out to the truck. As he opened the door for her, he waited for her to climb onto the seat before he stepped in and kissed her lingeringly.
“What’s that for?” Erin’s expression was bemused.
“Just because, baby, just because.” As he walked around the truck, Sam decided he would take her out to dinner the next evening. Someplace special where he could finally tell her how he felt. He blew out a breath, still nervous at the idea.
* * * *
Erin yawned as she stepped inside the back door. Who’d have thought just working on learning letters and sounds would be so exhausting. “Sam, I’ll go ahead and start dinner,” she said. “Do you need help with the barn?”
He shook his dark head as he pulled his coverall on over his jeans and flannel shirt. “No. You go ahead. I’m starved.”
She grinned at him. “I’ll make it something quick and simple. How about steak and salad?”
He caught her chin in his hand and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Sounds great. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
She heard the door shut followed by the slam of the screen porch door. Erin pulled the steaks from the fridge, whistling as she began working. She was on a real emotional high. Sam seemed different, more attentive, and he’d stuck by her to begin with; then there was her session with Rachel. That had gone so much better than she could have imagined.
Even better, Rachel was a fascinating lady. She’d recently left her husband and purchased a small farm she was in the process of fixing up. It was the old Crawley place, and Rachel had been able to buy it only because she had family ties. If Erin remembered correctly, old man Crawley had hung on to the place for years, unwilling to sell it, but also unwilling to fix it up in any way. Go figure. What a waste of an asset. At any rate, Rachel had bought it, moved in, and was rehabilitating animals.
Now there was a woman she could admire—someone who was independent along with being super intelligent. Erin grinned. She really hoped they’d be friends. She hadn’t stopped long enough to have many friends, especially other women, but she thought someone like Rachel would be perfect.
As she washed the produce in the kitchen sink, Erin’s eyes drifted to her reflection in the window. Darkness lay beyond, but for just a second, she could have sworn she saw a flash of something. That was silly. There was nothing in that direction but pasture and the woods off in the distance. Probably just her imagination. Still, it gave her a bit of a chill and reminded her just how isolated Sam’s farm was.
At least at Richardson Homestead there were servants in the house and the farm manager not too far away, but here, acres of pasture, woods, and hills separated them from the lights of her parents’ home. The nearest thing bes
ides that was a couple of double-wides on the opposite side of the highway, but even those were a half mile away.
She swallowed, sudden uneasiness creeping along her spine. It was a little too spooky for someone who’d always been firmly grounded in reality. The whole woo-woo thing was more along Tabby’s line, what with her artist’s imagination and all. When Erin finally heard the slam of the screen door and the familiar tromp of Sam’s feet in the mudroom, she sagged against the counter with relief. He entered the kitchen on stocking feet, and she ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him.
“Hey!” He pulled her close. “What’s this? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, squirt.”
Erin shook her head and buried her face against his chest. When Sam’s arms tightened around her, she relaxed against him.
“What’s up, Erin?” Sam’s tone turned serious, concern edging his voice.
She shook herself and sighed. “I don’t know. I got weirded out there for a minute. It’s nothing, Sam. I guess it’s just the excitement today. I mean, I’m not high strung, but I kind of lost it. I’m sorry.”
He ducked his head to her level and grinned. “Well anything that lands you in my arms is fine by me.”
He cupped her butt and drew her into him. Erin wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her face for his kiss. She loved the feel of him against her, the roughness of his jeans and the scratchy softness of the wool flannel shirt. When his tongue teased her mouth open, then plundered inside, she moaned against him and pressed her breasts into him.
“Sweet heaven,” Sam groaned. “How long until dinner’s ready?”
“The salad’s in the fridge. I was just getting ready to put the steaks on.”
He lifted her and urged her legs around his waist. “Hold off on them. I’ve got the biggest hard-on. Sure hate to waste it.”
Erin giggled. “Do you want to take care of it here or someplace more comfortable?”
“I might be able to make it as far as the couch, but that’s about it.”
Erin's Way Page 16