One Stubborn Texan

by Kara Lennox

  “Then one day, it wasn’t enough. Winnie threatened to break things off with Sammy unless he married her. So he did—in a bogus ceremony that was never registered with the state.”

  “That’s how I found you,” Sydney said. “The bogus wedding records. You were, what, about three at the time?”

  He nodded. “I don’t remember it. So they were supposedly married, but Sammy still wouldn’t move Mom in with him.”

  “And she put up with that?”

  “For a while. Eventually she got tired of his lies and she wanted to leave. But by then she was so addicted to the high-flying lifestyle, she couldn’t. The idea of having to get a job, a real job—her showgirl days were over—terrified her.

  “Then one day, Sammy made the decision for her. He’d fallen in love with one of Mom’s so-called friends and wanted to marry her, which of course infuriated Mom even more since by then she’d figured out her marriage wasn’t legal.”

  “Paula,” Sydney added.

  “Right. But Sammy had to get me and Mom out of the picture. I think I already told you that part. He paid us off to move far, far away.”

  “How old were you then?” This story both fascinated and repulsed Sydney. She’d gotten the idea that Sammy Oberlin wasn’t a kind and gentle soul, but it sounded as if he was downright cruel to string along a woman—the mother of his child—for years on end.

  “I was twelve. We moved to Dallas, which was far enough away to suit Sammy. Mom thought living in the town where Neiman Marcus was born would be the ultimate. But it turned into a nightmare. Sammy paid Mom a chunk of money to go away and she seemed intent on spending it as fast as she could. But life in the fast lane caught up with her. After her third trip to rehab, social services took me away from her.”

  “Oh, Russ.” Sydney couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for a twelve-year-old boy to watch his mother self destruct.

  “It was the best thing that could have happened, a wakeup call of sorts. Mom decided to move back to her hometown and live with her mother. She sobered up, regained custody and she took what remained of Sammy’s settlement to buy the Cut ’n’ Curl and go to beauty school. It was the first time I can remember that she set a goal and actually stuck with it. She was working harder than she ever had and for the first time in her life she was happy.”

  “So because of that…you think having money is bad?” Sydney wasn’t going to try to change his mind. She’d promised. But she did want to understand.

  “Money is bad for Winnie. Even though she knows it’s bad for her, she still plots out big-bucks schemes. She’s only had one real relapse, when my grandmother died and left her some cash. Not a whole lot, but enough. She took off for the casinos in Shreveport. I got a call a week later from the police. She’d lost it all—more than twenty thousand dollars—gambling. Got into a drunken brawl at a casino. Thankfully they agreed to drop the charges if I would take Winnie home.”

  “How old were you then?”

  Russ had to think. “Nineteen? Something like that.”

  “Okay, let me see if I understand. Your mom’s quality of life is much higher when she doesn’t have access to wads of cash. But the inheritance would be strictly yours. Winnie isn’t mentioned in the will.”

  “So you think I could inherit ten million dollars and not share? I shudder to think what my life would be like. Winnie would see an endless supply of cash—and her son, standing in the way. Try to imagine it. She would be pestering me constantly, just like she did Sammy. She’d want a new car, a mink coat, a vacation. And if I didn’t give it to her, I’d be a selfish pig. Even if I gave it all away to charity, she would be furious that I couldn’t spare her a measly million or two. But I believe a million dollars would kill her. Hell, twenty thousand nearly did.”

  Russ shook his head. “We’ve built a great life in Linhart, but it wouldn’t take much to ruin that forever. I won’t do that, not to myself, not to Winnie.”

  Finally, Sydney understood. Russ was protecting his mother, the only real family he had. Just as Sydney was trying to save her father. The same money that could put her father’s life back together could very well destroy Winnie’s—and Russ’s.

  She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Okay.”

  With that one word, she conveyed her total understanding and acceptance of his situation. And everything changed between them—everything. Gone were the suspicions, the antagonism, the frustrations that had marred their earlier encounters, leaving nothing but the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other.

  “You’re, uh, soup’s getting cold,” he said, his voice a little rough.

  She hadn’t taken a single bite, she’d been so focused on Russ’s story. “I’m not really that hungry.” Not for food, anyway. She was hungry for connection. Now that they’d forged this thread of understanding, she longed for more. Clearing the air between them had cleared the way for true intimacy.

  Provided Russ felt the same way.

  He released her hand and stood suddenly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. His gaze never left hers as he walked around the table. She quaked at the intensity of his gaze, the purpose in his movements as he pulled her chair out, with her still in it, and helped her stand.

  “Thank you for understanding,” he said.

  “Thank you for telling me. I know it can’t be easy, delving into such painful memories.”

  “No, I’ll tell you what’s not easy. Standing here and refraining from ripping your clothes off.”

  Okay, he got points for honesty. She straightened the collar of his shirt. “So why are you refraining? Yesterday you took off my shoe. In some countries, that means we’re married.”

  He grinned, but only for a moment, because he soon had her in his arms and was kissing her with an intensity that literally stole her breath. She was light-headed and she clung to him to keep from falling. He smelled faintly of smoke from the fire and it was sexier than any high-priced designer cologne.

  He broke the kiss and froze, looking off into space. “There’s a problem.”

  “What?” No, no problems. Please. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with those.

  “Birth control.”

  “Don’t you have something here?” she asked, slightly desperate.

  “Never brought a woman here. But maybe…” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and opened it. “Yes.”

  Oh, thank goodness.

  Without further ado he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  Russ couldn’t believe this was happening. How had a woman he’d tricked and lied to transformed into a willing lover? He didn’t deserve any consideration from her, but he wasn’t stopping to question it, not aloud. He just wanted her naked.

  The cabin had warmed up during the day, thanks to a lot of winter sun. So though the bedroom was the coldest room in the cabin, it wasn’t nearly as inhospitable as it had been yesterday—and he wanted to make love to Sydney in a real bed.

  The bed was unmade; neither of them had touched it since Russ had carried Sydney to the sofa the previous night. He set Sydney on it then found the light in the dark room and turned it on. He wanted to see her when he made love to her.

  When he turned back to her, she was working on the buttons of her faded flannel shirt—an old shirt of his, actually, but it looked a helluva lot better on her.

  “I thought you wanted me to undress you,” he teased, taking over the job of removing her shirt. Underneath she wore a silky bra the color of the inside of a shell, with lacy half cups that allowed her shadowy nipples to peek through.

  She looked so pretty in the sexy garment, he almost didn’t want to take it off. But before he could even figure out how it fastened, she unclasped the front hook and shrugged out of it.

  “Too slow.” Then she surprised him by reaching for his jeans and unfastening the buttons with unwavering purpose. No hesitation there.

 
; Lord, he loved a woman who knew her mind, who craved sex and enjoyed it as much as he did.

  Given the layers of clothes they’d been wearing for warmth, they undressed in record time. Russ fluffed the covers up and urged Sydney to climb under where they could be warm and cozy, and he followed her.

  For a few moments he just held her, letting her get accustomed to his body next to hers, enjoying every inch of her soft skin pressed against his. He soon couldn’t resist kissing her again. She was responsive to his every touch and he explored her curves with his hands and mouth, pressing his face against her belly, blowing on her nipples, feeling her every shiver and sigh down to his marrow.

  Sydney had never been made love to like this before. Though obviously fully aroused, Russ seemed in no hurry to get anyplace special. He explored her the way she might take in the sights, sounds and smells of an outdoor market, darting from booth to booth, tasting a sample of an orange here, a cantaloupe there, delighting in a pyramid of shiny red apples, feeling the texture of an avocado skin.

  She got into the spirit of his style of lovemaking. She nibbled his earlobe and buried her fingers in his hair, pressed her nose against his neck and smelled the down-to-earth scents of soap, shaving cream and smoke.

  Just when she thought she might explode with the fury of her desire for him, for every part of him, he dipped his finger inside her.

  “Oh,” she said, as if she’d just made a discovery, for in a way she had. Nothing had ever felt quite like this before. “What are you doing?”

  “Having fun.”

  “I know, but…ohhh. Do you want me to…aren’t we…” Her body tensed as her climax hit her full force, with swirling colors and a swooshing in her ears, and for a moment she thought she’d had a stroke or something because she went away for a bit, but if this was dying, she was all for it.

  “That’s it,” Russ soothed, “let it go, don’t hold back.”

  “Trust me,” she gasped, “I’m not.” He hadn’t left her with enough control to do anything but accept what he was doing to her.

  As the ripples of pleasure slowed and her body relaxed, she realized Russ was just holding her.

  “That was hardly fair.”

  “No?” He raised up on one elbow and looked at her curiously.

  “You took advantage.”

  “You’re right, that’s not fair. So I’ll let you take advantage of me now.”

  “I can’t move.”

  “I bet you can.”

  And sure enough, he was right. He started playing with her hair, then kissing her and in a few short minutes she was writhing beneath him as if she hadn’t been so recently and so incredibly satisfied.

  He pulled away only long enough to take care of protection. When he finally entered her she was crazy with passion for him, and she surprised herself by reaching another peak just as he did, as if somehow their minds had merged along with their bodies and all sensations were shared.

  Finally they fell into an exhausted heap and slept like hibernating bears, but early in the morning, long before sunrise, they woke and did it all over again.

  Sydney knew she would never think of sex the same way again.

  “Is it always like this for you?” she asked later as they lay entwined under a down comforter, their breathing in sync.

  “Good gravy, no. This was…life altering.”

  Of course he would say that and she knew her question had sounded like she was looking for reassurance. But she’d been genuinely curious. She’d read all the books. She thought she knew her way around the bedroom. But making love with Russ was something else. Something else, indeed.

  SYDNEY DOZED AGAIN, and when she woke, the sun was up and she was alone in bed. “Russ?”

  “Out here,” he called from the main room. “You were sleeping soundly, so I went ahead and showered. I have a surprise for you.”

  “Unless it’s bacon and eggs I’m not getting up,” she called back, figuring he was concocting one of his imaginative meals.

  “This has nothing to do with food.”

  Hmm, that had possibilities. She hopped out of bed, too late remembering her injured ankle. But it didn’t hurt as much as before when she put weight on it. She was able to limp as opposed to hop. She grabbed her discarded shirt from last night and shoved her arms into the sleeves, then left the bedroom to see what Russ was up to.

  She found him in the bathroom, pouring a pot of hot water into the tub. He’d made a hot bath for her. It was even full of bubbles.

  It was such a sweet gesture, it made her eyes fill with tears. She quickly dashed them away with the back of her hand, not wanting Russ to see. “Thank you,” she managed.

  The tub was short, but it was deep, and if she bent her knees she could immerse herself all the way to her neck in the steaming water. Russ made her bath even more pleasant by scrubbing her back and shampooing her hair for her. She loved having her hair washed and she fully indulged in the luxury of Russ’s strong fingers massaging her scalp. He occasionally placed a kiss on her shoulder or ear, something the shampoo girl at her salon rarely did.

  “Mmm, why don’t you join me,” she said lazily as he rinsed the last of the soap from her hair.

  “I don’t think we’d both fit in that tub,” he reminded her. “Anyway, much as I’d love to dally, we need to get moving if we want to get home today. Some of the ice melted yesterday, but it’s still going to be slow going. How’s your foot?”

  “Better,” she said as he dried her off. “I think with the boot laced tight to provide some support and a walking stick for balance, I can make it. I’m not sure I can carry a pack, though.”

  “I can carry what we’ll need.”

  Yesterday she’d been impatient to see the last of this place, but today she hated the thought of leaving. Yeah, it was rustic, but Russ had made staying here seem like a grand adventure.

  She knew, too, that when they returned to civilization, their romantic interlude would come to an end. She had to suck it up and deal with reality. Loathe as she was to call this a one-night stand, that was exactly what it was. A spectacular one, but still…

  Russ didn’t disappoint her with breakfast. He fixed oatmeal with walnuts and raisins, not the instant kind out of an envelope, either. Sydney savored her last cozy meal with Russ. Then she stuffed her feet into her new hiking boots, wrapped herself in her borrowed jacket, gloves, knit hat and scarf, and prepared for the grueling hike.

  RUSS HAD TO HAND IT TO SYDNEY, she didn’t complain. Though she took every steep incline on her butt rather than risk depending on her iffy ankle to support her, she bore it all stoically, with only an occasional hiss or ladylike groan.

  She even asked him a few questions about the wildlife after spotting raccoon prints in the mud and hearing a birdcall drifting on the wind.

  “The only birds I ever see are pigeons, sparrows and starlings,” she said glumly.

  “Pigeons aren’t so bad. Everybody hates them, but did you know they mate for life?”

  “No, I didn’t know that.” She sounded surprised. “But when I was a little girl, I watched a pair build a nest and raise babies right outside my window. They nested under the eaves of our garage. I remember admiring how tirelessly they took care of the babies.”

  He was actually pleased to hear she took some interest in nature and wildlife. Maybe they weren’t quite as opposite as he’d first thought. Yeah, they lived in different places, but they’d found common ground.

  Oh, hell, who was he kidding? They’d found common ground in the bedroom and he was trying to rationalize the fact he’d slept with her when they both knew it was going nowhere. Though neither of them had whispered a word about anything long-term, he was still old-fashioned enough to feel he’d taken advantage of her. Especially since it was his fault she’d been stranded at the cabin in the first place.

  It was really too damn bad. Because despite everything, they’d gotten along remarkably well. They’d found lots of things to talk about. But their
geographic differences were too big to overcome. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he’d made a home in Linhart and he wasn’t going to budge.

  And he could hardly expect her to uproot her life. She had a business and a sick father back in New York.

  Every time he looked at her, he felt an ache in his chest that troubled him. As short as the time was they’d had together, he suspected she was going to be harder to get over than any of the others. Much harder.

  Chapter Twelve

  What should have been a three-hour hike took them six. It was actually closer to five miles than four, despite what he’d originally told Sydney. The last section of trail was the slowest, even though the terrain was flatter, because Sydney’s ankle was starting to hurt more after having been put through so much abuse. But given that the trail was still slippery, she wouldn’t let Russ carry her.

  “You’ll fall and then we’ll both go down on our heads,” she’d said. “I can make it, if you’ll just let me go slowly.”

  He’d let her go, he thought, as slowly as she wanted. Because once they were back in Linhart, she would climb into her BMW and drive out of his life forever and he’d just as soon delay that event.

  The final creek crossing was the most difficult; the water had risen in the past couple of days, and falling in meant a good soaking and instantaneous hypothermia. Russ insisted on taking Sydney’s hand as they crossed the slippery log, though if she fell she would probably pull him right in with her.

  Somehow, they made it across without mishap. And a few minutes later, his Bronco came into view, parked exactly where he’d left it, partially covered with melting ice.

  “Man, I hope your heater works,” Sydney said, picking up her pace slightly now that the end was in sight. “The boots kept my feet warm, but everything else is numb.”

  “The heater in my car is like a blast furnace,” he assured her. “But I wonder what I did with the keys.”

  “You’re joking, right?” The look of panic she gave him was priceless.

  “I’m joking.” He reached into his jacket pocket and extracted the keys, walking to the passenger side to open the door for Sydney. But before he did, he turned to face her.