by Anne Stuart
He was more than used to the sudden surge of homesickness. He’d felt it often enough, but usually not quite so soon. He’d be on the trail, in the midst of some wilderness or the center of a city, and a longing for home would sweep over him. He’d start, then and there, for New Mexico.
But he wasn’t used to having it happen so soon. He’d only been gone ten days this time. He usually didn’t feel that pull for months and months. Maybe there was hope for him after all.
He saw Mazey’s broad, bay rump in the shadowy stall, next to a narrower, chestnut gelding. Ellie was two stalls over, her voice a low, soothing murmur as she talked to the biggest, blackest, meanest-looking, most gorgeous stallion he’d ever seen in his entire life. Covetousness swept over him, wiping out all previous emotions, and he started forward.
“Don’t come any closer.” Ellie’s voice stopped him. She was edging out of the stall, her strong, narrow hands running over the high, beautifully muscled back of the black as she went. He stopped where he was, too much of a horseman to disobey, but his hands itched to touch that smooth back.
Ellie shut the door of the stall behind her and walked toward him. The cane was under her arm, and she was once more forgetting to limp.
“Shaitan doesn’t like strangers,” she said, gesturing toward the barn door.
Tanner didn’t move. “According to Maude, he doesn’t like friends either.”
“That’s right. He doesn’t like anyone but me. You go near him, Tanner, and he’ll savage you. What he doesn’t accomplish with his teeth he’ll finish with his hooves once he gets you down. He’s had a bad time of it with people, and I’m the only one he trusts.”
A small, cautious smile curved his mouth. “You think you’ll have the same luck with me?” he said softly. She didn’t reply, and he looked over her shoulder to the beautiful shape of the stallion. “He’s too much horse for you, Ellie.”
“You touch him,” Ellie said again, “and what he doesn’t do I will. I’ll cut your heart out, Tanner.”
“Tsk, tsk. That’s not the way to earn my trust.”
“The hell with your trust,” she said fiercely.
“Is he all right?”
“What do you mean? Oh, you mean because he didn’t eat? He was just in a mood. As soon as I showed up he chowed down. He loves me.”
He stared down at her defiant face. “Just because he loves you doesn’t mean he can’t be very dangerous. Love doesn’t always mean safety.”
The barn was oddly quiet, silent but for the soft whirrup of the horses, the muffled sounds as they lipped their hay. “I know,” she said, looking into his eyes with her direct, fearless gaze. “But sometimes safety’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Do you want some lunch?”
I want you, lying in the straw, wrapped around me, he thought, keeping his face absolutely expressionless. “Peanut butter sandwiches?” he said. “I can’t wait.”
* * * * *
She didn’t let him near Shaitan again. The day clouded over, threatening rain, and Shaitan was terrified of thunderstorms. Maude kept plying the two of them with fresh-baked bread, coffee that was almost as strong as Tanner’s wicked brew and anecdotes about Morey’s Falls before 1972. She never mentioned Charles Tanner—she didn’t have to. Instead, she gave Tanner a feel for the town his family had come from for generations, and he listened with complete fascination.
It was one of the few pleasant things he could take away with him, Ellie thought, sitting at the table and watching him surreptitiously. Most of his search would turn up tragedy, depression and despair. At least Maude was showing him a part of his more distant past that wasn’t tainted with murder.
For the time being his defenses were lowered, just enough for her to guess what he might have been like if he’d lived a normal life. Those eyes of his were no longer coldly challenging, no longer deliberately seductive. They were simply eyes, of a beautiful blue shade, and the lashes shielding them were wickedly long. His dark-blond hair was pushed back, his expression was both relaxed and intent, and his mouth was curved in a slight smile that held no threats. His skin was deeply tanned from years in the bright sun, and lines fanned out from his eyes, lines that couldn’t have come from smiling.
His hands were wrapped around a mug of Maude’s coffee. Ellie remembered the feel of those long, hard fingers on her wrist, touching her cut lip. She remembered the brief, tantalizing feel of his mouth on hers, and she shivered.
“I’ve got to be heading back,” she said suddenly. “Bridge club is at my house tonight, and if I don’t make tracks nothing will be ready. As it is I’ll barely have time to get Tanner home.”
“You don’t need to ‘get Tanner home,’” he drawled. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
“Don’t be silly, boy. Your family’s place is on the other side of town; it must be ten miles from here,” Maude said. “Besides, this is a lonely stretch of road. I don’t like you being out here alone. There’s too much bad feeling still simmering around here. No need to ask for trouble.”
“You think someone’s gonna shoot me in the back?”
“You forget, Maude knows this town and the people in it a lot better than you do,” Ellie said. “And I wouldn’t put it past several of them to do just that.”
“I guess I’d better run for cover then.” Tanner’s voice was cool and remote. “I could always skulk along the side of the road and dive into the underbrush if someone came along. Except that there isn’t much underbrush around here. I guess I’ll have to risk it. We can’t have Ellie late for her bridge game.”
“Cut it out, Tanner.” Ellie rose and carried her empty coffee cup over to the old iron sink. She almost picked up his, and had to force herself not to. She wasn’t going to wait on him, do for him, on any level. It was too tempting, too dangerous. “It’s very simple—you can drop me off home and take the car out to your place. I won’t be needing it, and you can drive it tomorrow morning so that we can get an early start.”
“No thanks.”
Ellie sighed, leaning over to kiss Maude’s withered cheek. “We’ll argue about it in the car. Thanks for everything, Maude. You’re a great lady.”
“No,” said Maude, “I’m not. You’re the good one around here.”
To Ellie’s surprise Tanner came over and kissed Maude too. Ellie held her breath as Maude blinked back tears of surprise and emotion. She hadn’t seen Maude cry in years. Maybe she’d never seen Maude cry. “Thanks, Maude,” he murmured, smiling at her, that rare, sweet smile that he’d bestowed on Addie Pritchard and no one else.
Ellie, watching that smile, felt a knife of longing twist inside her, one that she didn’t dare let Tanner see. Without a word she headed out the door, letting the screen door slam shut behind her. This time she remembered to limp.
* * *
Chapter Nine
* * *
Ellie headed straight for the passenger’s side and climbed in before Tanner could protest. “You drive,” she announced. “The keys are in the ignition.”
“I thought I warned you about that.”
“You and I have something in common, Tanner,” she growled. “We don’t take kindly to advice.”
They were halfway to town before he spoke. “You’ve got her fooled too, haven’t you?”
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“Maude. She’s swallowed the Saint Ellie image like everyone else.”
“Don’t goad me, Tanner. It just so happens that I am a saint. I’ve spent almost—” she looked at her watch “—almost nine hours with you and I haven’t killed you yet. Surely that qualifies for sainthood in some parts.”
He laughed, a short, sharp sound that wasn’t unpleasant. “My mother would have agreed with you.”
“Your mother must have been a wise woman.”
“Not particularly. She had phenomenally lousy taste in men,” he said calmly.
There wasn’t much she could say in response to that. He was driving at a surprisingly decorous pace, and he hadn’t
had a cigarette in hours. She would have thought he’d be a demon behind the wheel. Right then she could have used a little bit of lead-foot. The last thing she wanted was to show up late to her own bridge club and start having to make explanations. People were going to be nosy enough.
“Is there any way I can talk you into taking the car?” She tried it one last time. “It would make things easier on both of us.”
He glanced in her direction, his smoky eyes reminding her of a timber wolf. “All right,” he agreed abruptly. “Though I disagree with you. Nothing is going to make things easier on either of us.”
She considered, then rejected the notion of asking him exactly what he meant. She was afraid that deep in her heart she knew, and it was something she wasn’t ready to face.
“I don’t really like bridge.” She changed the subject, her voice slightly rushed. “I just sort of fell into it. People were always looking for a fourth, and it was one thing that had nothing to do with the past. So we started meeting at people’s houses, first four of us, then eight. I expect we’ll make up three tables tonight. Actually, we spend more time eating than playing. And our table talk is outrageous. I hate to think what serious bridge players would think if they heard us.”
Tanner made a noncommittal sound, clearly uninterested, but Ellie plowed on, no longer comfortable in silence. “Sometimes I don’t think the others care that much about bridge either. It’s just a chance to get away from their husbands and kids, or an empty house with too many memories. It’s a chance to let their hair down and gossip.” Her voice trailed off guiltily.
“So I imagine I’ll be a major topic of conversation tonight. Over the chips and dips?”
“How about over the crudites?” she found herself saying.
Again that short, sharp laugh. “Tarnishing your image, Saint Ellie? You’re supposed to turn the other cheek.”
She sighed, recognizing the truth of it. She shouldn’t rise to his bait, shouldn’t fight back. Tanner was the one with psychic burdens weighing him down. He was suffering fully as much as his father’s victims, and if she could comfort the others, why couldn’t she extend comfort to Tanner?
“What are you going to do about supper? It’s already after seven,” she said instead.
“Why, Ellie, is that an invitation?” he mocked her. “I didn’t think so. Don’t worry, I won’t starve to death. Pete’s Fireside Cafe looked like a good possibility.”
“No!”
“Do you want to tell me why, or should I guess?”
“Pete Forrester’s daughter was killed in the massacre, and Pete took it even harder than most. He’d be one you’d want to avoid.”
“Maybe. Or the one I most want to talk to.”
“Don’t ask for trouble, Tanner.”
“I did by coming here.”
“Wait until I can come with you,” she said, and her voice held a note of pleading in it. “Please, Tanner.”
He said nothing for a moment. They were coming into the outskirts of Morey’s Falls, and the approaching storm had brought early-evening shadows down around the barren-looking buildings. “Do you want to tell me where you live?” he said, ignoring her earlier plea. “Or shall I just drive around and guess?”
“Take the next left,” she said. “It’s the house on the corner.”
Tanner pulled into the driveway next to the Judge’s huge old house, and his expression was sardonic. “Very impressive,” he said. “No wonder you married him.”
“Don’t. I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“True enough.” He turned off the motor and opened the door.
“What are you doing?” she demanded nervously.
“Seeing you to your door. It’s the least I can do. My mama did try to make me into a little gentleman. She failed, but a few things stuck.” He strode around the car and opened her door with all the aplomb of a uniformed chauffeur.
Ellie looked over her shoulder nervously. The gathering shadows of the storm darkened the streets that should still have been light at that time of year, and there were lamps shining in the windows across the way. No faces there, watching the sinner and the saint. “There’s no need....” she began.
“There’s every need.” His hand was under her elbow, guiding her up the uneven sidewalk to the back porch, moving her with such gentle force that she had no chance to limp, no chance to pull back. He paused on the porch outside the back door, releasing her, and opened the door. “You don’t lock your house either, do you?” His voice was deep with disapproval.
“There’s no need.”
“Lock your door, Ellie,” he ordered. “And I’ll keep away from Pete’s Fireside Cafe.”
She looked up at him. The shadows were all around them, the smell of the approaching storm thick in the air, and a sudden, waiting stillness caught at her. He was so close, and so locked away from her. His blue eyes were hooded, unreadable, and his mouth looked hard and unyielding.
It wasn’t. Before she realized what he was doing he’d pulled her into his arms, out on the back porch in plain view of anyone who cared to look. His hand cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place as his mouth came down on hers.
She stood rigid in his arms, surprise and panic holding her still as his mouth moved expertly across hers. His lips were soft, warm, damp, and the knot in her stomach tightened and dropped. The long fingers behind her neck were kneading the tense muscles, lightly, erotically, as his lips tugged gently at hers.
She didn’t know what to do. Half of her wanted to respond, to kiss him back, but she didn’t know how. The other half wanted to shove him away from her, remove the tempting warmth of his lean, strong body. She did neither. She stood there in the circle of his arms, unmoving.
He lifted his head, his mouth leaving hers, and his eyes glittered in the shadowy half-light. “You kiss like a virgin,” he said, his voice softly mocking.
She kept herself from flinching. “I wasn’t kissing you,” she pointed out with an attempt to sound matter-of-fact. All she sounded was shaky. “You were kissing me.”
“Then let me do it properly,” he whispered, and the sound played across her spine like a thousand tiny leaves. “Open your mouth.”
She could no more deny him than she could have stopped her heart from beating. His hands moved up, cupping her head, as his mouth caught hers, and her mouth opened, obediently, passively.
She wasn’t expecting his tongue. She jumped, but he held her still, tracing the soft contours of her lips, dipping inside, lightly at first, getting her used to the unfamiliar invasion. Her lips were damp, soft beneath his, and she began to tremble in reaction. His tongue touched hers, sliding over the rough surface, and the intimacy of it was unbearably sweet, teasing, tempting, arousing. Suddenly it was more than she could take. She twined her arms around his neck, pressed her body against his and kissed him back, desperately, inexpertly, passionately.
She could feel the hardness of him against her thighs. She could feel her nipples pressing through her cotton bra and shirt, pressing against his muscled chest. She could feel her heart race and her mind soar as she lost herself in the overpowering sensation of his mouth on hers. If she could she would have crawled into his skin. She wanted to rip off his shirt, to feel his flesh beneath her hungry hands, his body against hers, hot and hard and wanting as she was wanting.
His heart was pounding against hers and his mouth was no longer gentle; it was as hungry as hers. Her lip began to bleed again, and the small touch of pain was just one more point of arousal. She wanted to break the kiss, to pull him into the house, to lock the doors behind them and push him down on the old linoleum floor of the Judge’s kitchen.
The rumble of Ginger Barlow’s aging Camaro stopped her before she could make an even greater fool of herself. In sudden panic she ripped herself out of his arms, and he was too startled to try to hold her. She backed into the corner of the porch, her back against the clapboard, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She could feel the dampness on
her mouth, the heat still rippling through her body. She looked at Tanner and wanted to weep. He looked watchful, patient, expectant. He didn’t look as if he’d just experienced the most profoundly erotic moment of his life. He probably hadn’t.
“Well,” she said, her voice low and trembling, “now you know. I’m human after all.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “You are.”
“Damn you, Tanner,” she said desperately. “Don’t play games with me! Leave me be!”
If she expected pity or compassion, she was getting none of it. “You’ve been let be for too long. Didn’t the Judge ever kiss you?”
Color flamed her face. “Sorry I was so inadequate,” she mumbled.
“You weren’t inadequate. Just...inexperienced. Why?”
“There you are, Ellie!” Ginger shouted out gaily, moving up the sidewalk with the sinuous stride she kept for susceptible males. “And Tanner, my goodness. I didn’t realize you were there.”
The hell you didn’t, Ellie thought savagely, and then thought better of her anger. Ginger had prevented her from having to answer a very uncomfortable question. Though she suspected Tanner knew the answer. He just wanted to make her admit it.
“I’m just leaving,” Tanner said. “I’m keeping Ellie from her bridge club.”
“Well, I’m part of the bridge club, and it’s okay with me. I tell you what—I’ll give you a ride home while Ellie puts out the refreshments I brought.” She was wearing too much of her current musky scent, and even out in the evening air it hung about them like a cloud.
“No thanks,” Tanner said distantly. “We’ll finish this tomorrow, Ellie. First thing.” And with that parting threat he left them, moving down the steps to the car with a loose-limbed grace that caught Ellie in the pit of her stomach and warred with the panic that had settled there.
Ginger let out a gusty sigh as he drove away. “That is some man, I tell you,” she said. “They don’t grow too many of them in these parts.” She turned her attention to her friend, and her wide blue eyes narrowed. “What were you two talking about when I got here? It must have been something pretty intense.”