Reunited with the Rancher

by Sara Orwig

  Nodding at her, he stepped out of the car and closed the door quietly.

  She couldn’t imagine any danger, but then she had never expected to receive such a hateful message from Maverick, either. And so now she was under the same roof with Tom again—that seemed the biggest threat, but it was a threat to her heart when she was just pulling herself together and beginning to establish a life without Tom in it.

  He vanished into the house. It was still dusk. She could still see outside, but inside the old house, darkness would prevail. She could imagine Tom checking out each room. He would be thorough and silent.

  Her nerves were on edge by the time the lights were switched on in the house and she could see him coming through the kitchen. As she took in his broad shoulders and purposeful stride, she knew she would feel totally safe with Tom in the house. In the past she had always felt completely safe when he was around, but then, in the past, she hadn’t worried about any kind of threat.

  He passed by the windows and a light went off in what Uncle Woody called his front parlor. Next the hall light went off and she realized Tom was going to turn off all the lights and leave the downstairs in darkness.

  She didn’t even see him coming when he tapped on the car window.

  He opened the door for her, pushing a button to keep the car light off. “Thanks for humoring me. I feel better about the house now.” She stepped out and closed the door. He reached to help her, taking her arm. It was casual, something he obviously wasn’t thinking about, but like any physical contact with him, she was intensely aware of his touch.

  “Emily, you have no security here. You don’t have one damn window covering except in a bathroom downstairs, and anyone watching can see where you are in the house at any time. We’ve got some work ahead of us. Do you have curtains or sheets here?”

  “I have sheets.”

  “Okay, come on. Let’s get moving. We need some windows covered, and you need to move upstairs.”

  “I don’t suppose there is any point in arguing with you about moving upstairs.”

  “No, there isn’t,” he said. “That’s what you’re going to do.”

  “When did you get so take-charge?”

  “When someone threatened you. You’re on that troll’s hit list, and until he or she is caught, don’t forget that for a moment. You’ve crossed someone in some way and they want to get even. It could be me they’re after, but if it is, that’s a damn roundabout way to get at me. Just remember someone wants to hurt you.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to let me forget it.”

  They walked around to the back door and entered the dark house. Night had fallen and there was no moon. She realized he hadn’t left any lights on in the back hall entrance.

  Tom took her arm and, again, the minute his fingers touched her, she had the usual tingles from head to toe. How would she live with him in the same house, work with him to restore it? How would she get through this one night? She was always attracted to him, but she needed to resist him now. She couldn’t bear to go through all the emotional upheaval she had in the past. There were no solutions to their problems, and their divorce would be finalized as soon as this threat from Maverick ended.

  “Tom—”

  In little more than a whisper, his breath warm on her ear, he said, “Wait until we’re upstairs.”

  Four

  They moved silently in the dark through the back hall into the breakfast room and then the main hall. When they stopped for a second, Emily collided with him.

  Tom slipped his arm around her waist. The minute he did, everything changed. He became aware of her softness, the faint trace of perfume, her hair spilling across his hand. He held her lightly. Her soft blue sweater fit snugly and he could feel her warmth, her lush curves, her soft breasts pressing against his arm. Desire was sudden and intense.

  Off balance, she grabbed his arm, but he held her and she wasn’t going to fall. It took an effort to hold her lightly, to keep from wrapping his arms around her and kissing her until she responded. She was soft, alluring, warm.

  Time disappeared and took along with it memories of the bad times and the loss. At the moment memories of holding her and kissing her consumed him, making his heart race. He tightened his arms to pull her close, feeling her slender arm slide around his neck.

  “Some things between us haven’t changed,” he said quietly. He shifted, fitting her against him, still holding her close. The pounding beat of his heart was loud and he fought to keep control. Even though he knew the trouble it would cause, he wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her all night long.

  “We can’t do this, Tom,” she whispered.

  He couldn’t answer. He was hot, hard and he wanted her. It was physical, a hungry need because he had been alone so long. He had to let her go and get upstairs, but he didn’t want to release her. It had been so damned long since he had held her, kissed her or even just touched her.

  He released her slightly, still holding her arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I just stumbled,” she answered. She sounded breathless and tense, and that just added to his desire. He tried to focus on the situation and stop thinking about kissing her.

  “I don’t want to turn on a light. You have all these damn windows. With your sunroom, you have thirty-two windows downstairs that are not covered, and anyone looking in can see what you’re doing. Let’s take this gear upstairs.”

  “I know this house even in the dark,” she said. They talked in quieter tones, but he wasn’t sure he was making sense, because all he could think about was kissing her. He was already tied in knots over her. Even while they talked, he continued to hold her arm and she had hers on his shoulder.

  “I’m glad you know this house. We won’t have to turn on lights until we’re upstairs. Can you get up the steps in the dark?” he asked.

  She leaned closer to his ear, her breath warm on his neck. “How many times do you think I turned out all the lights downstairs and tiptoed upstairs in total darkness after you brought me home from a date later than I was supposed to stay out? I can’t recall you worrying then whether I could get up the steps in the dark.”

  Her words eased some of his tension and he chuckled softly. “Okay, you go ahead and I’ll follow.”

  Reluctantly, he released her. Today, there had been moments when tension fell away. It was the way things used to be. This was a bubble in their lives—when they could live together again while Nathan and others tried to discover Maverick’s identity.

  Tom stayed right behind her as she silently went up the steps in the dark, leading him to a large bedroom at the back of the house. “We’re in my room, Tom. I’m going to turn a light on now.”

  “Go ahead. I’ve checked out the house and we’re the only ones in it. I’ve been in the attic and basement. No wonder these old houses are in scary movies. Plunk one of these in a scene and you already have atmosphere before you even start.”

  “I love this old house and there isn’t anything scary about it, including the basement.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. Let’s start hanging sheets and get you some privacy. Tomorrow you buy whatever you want—shutters, shades, curtains. Get something that will be easier to deal with than sheets on the windows for these upstairs rooms. Downstairs we can hang sheets and leave them.”

  Lost in thoughts about Emily, Tom worked fast. He was tall enough to hang sheets in front of a lot of windows without getting on a ladder, but he needed a stepladder for others.

  “This place doesn’t have an alarm system. You should go ahead and get one tomorrow and make arrangements to have it installed as soon as possible. I can recommend a good one. The guy who has the franchise is an ex-Ranger and a friend. He’ll do a rush job.”

  “You’re getting really bossy,” she said. Her
voice was light and he knew she was teasing.

  Tom got hot working, so he yanked off his shirt. When he turned around to reach for another sheet, he glanced at Emily. She stood transfixed as her gaze danced over his chest. Her cheeks were pink, her breathing fast, and desire filled her expression as she stared at him. She looked up and met his gaze, making his pulse speed up.

  Without breaking eye contact, he crossed the room to her. The temperature in the room climbed and memories tugged at him—of holding her, of kissing her, of making love. Desire intensified as he looked down into her green eyes. He slipped his hand behind her head, feeling her soft hair, looking at her mouth. Memories tore at him of kissing her and how soft her mouth was. She looked up at him with a dazed expression as she shook her head.

  “No,” she whispered. “Tom, I was just getting adjusted to being on my own—I don’t want to do this.”

  He could barely hear her over his pounding heart. “The hell you don’t.” His voice was low and gruff. “Emily, it’s been so long. A kiss won’t change anything. We can kiss and walk away.” He was fighting to control desire because he wanted her more than he had dreamed possible. He hadn’t made love to her in so long and there had been no other women. He was hard, ready, with visions taunting him of Emily naked in his arms. Memories poured over him of how she responded, of her scalding kisses and her hungry zest for making love.

  He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately, wanting to take her now, hard and fast, yet knowing when she agreed to sex, he should take his time. And he felt she would agree. One look into her big green eyes and he could tell she was as ready as he was. Maybe not tonight, but soon, so soon. Heat filled him at the thought.

  He bent over her and continued the kiss, dimly aware that her arms were wrapped around him and she held him tightly, rubbing against him, moaning with pleasure.

  She was soft, warm, luscious in his arms. He slipped his hand over her breast and felt he would burst with hungry need to just take her now. Fighting for control, he caressed her. Her softness sent his temperature soaring. She wriggled out of his embrace and stepped back, gulping air.

  “I can’t do this. I just can’t. It’s emotional turmoil and I get too worked up and torn up. We’re not good for each other. We’re getting divorced.”

  He turned away, trying to control his desire and emotions. She wanted him out of her life. “I’ll be downstairs,” he said, yanking on his shirt and leaving the room, knowing he had to get that divorce and move on, let go of Emily because he made her unhappy.

  He went down the steps, moving quietly, his gaze adjusting to the darkness as he reached the first floor. He looked over his shoulder and saw the light in the hall that spilled from her upstairs bedroom. She had been right—how were they going to stay in the same house, live together and not constantly hurt each other?

  He wanted her, but the damned attraction between them that had been so exciting, sexy and fantastic in the early years was now an albatross for both of them.

  Yet he had to stay with her. He couldn’t walk out of here and leave her alone in this big rambling house that came straight out of a horror movie. She had zero security. She might not want him here any more than she had in the big house on the ranch, but he had to stay until she repaired the windows and installed alarms. Maverick scared him. What could either of them have possibly done to make someone so angry?

  Tom stepped outside, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. Was anyone watching Emily? Was she in any danger?

  He looked up at the house. The second story in front was as dark as the downstairs. Tom walked back to the porch and sat in the dark, trying to cool down, to stop thinking about her kiss or how soft she was. To stop thinking about divorcing Emily. It still seemed impossible.

  He remembered that night on the bus in Colorado. They’d spent the day on the ski slopes near a new lodge with an indoor water park. By the time they started back to the hotel where they were staying, the weather had changed and the driver said they would skip the planned stop for dinner. In a short time, it had turned into a blizzard.

  On a curve on the side of a mountain, the bus hit ice and slid off the road. Going down the mountainside, the bus crashed into trees and then rolled. Seat belts gave way and people and belongings were tossed into the aisle. The sounds of screams, yelling and crying rose above the howling wind. Emily had screamed to him to get Ryan. He wanted to protect both of them, but she was right that he had to focus on trying to help their son. Tom had tried to hold Ryan in his seat and protect him as the bus crashed down the mountain. Ryan kept crying, “Daddy! Daddy!” until his screams went silent.

  Something had struck Tom, causing pain to shoot across his shoulder and arm as the bus slid on one side. Another blow brought oblivion. Seconds—or minutes—later, he’d come to and fought to stay conscious. The headlights were still on and Tom had seen a sheet of gray ice illuminated in the bus’s headlights and fading into darkness—and he’d realized the momentum was carrying the bus to a frozen pond.

  To Tom’s horror, Ryan and the seat he had been buckled into were gone. “Ryan!” Tom’s shout had been lost in all the chaos and noise. His cousin appeared and Tom yelled to Jack to look for Emily. People screamed and children cried. Most chilling of all, he couldn’t hear his son’s voice, and in the darkness he hadn’t been able to see.

  The front of the bus had lurched as it slid onto the frozen pond. At the same time, he’d heard the loud crack of ice breaking. The bus tilted and in seconds the bus slid partially underwater. Water gushed into the bus through gashes ripped in the sides and windows broken during the slide down the mountain. He’d had only minutes to find Ryan and get them both to the surface before the bus slipped deeper into the water.

  It probably only took a minute for him to find his son, but it had seemed like forever. Holding Ryan’s unconscious body against his chest and with his own lungs about to burst, Tom fought to get out of the wreck and to the surface. When he finally broke through, he swam the short distance to shore, where someone hauled him up onto the ground.

  Red-and-blue lights flashed, sirens sounded, people were crying and yelling and screaming. To his relief there were already ambulances, and Tom had fought to get Ryan on one and climbed in with him when Jack appeared with Emily. Tom hauled her into the ambulance. An attendant started to say something to him, looked at Tom and merely nodded. The paramedics hovered over Ryan after a cursory look at Tom and Emily.

  She had a head wound with blood streaming over her face and into her hair. Tom collapsed in the ambulance. He had broken bones, sprains, a ruptured spleen, deep cuts and pneumonia. He and Ryan each ended up in surgery. Tom was moved off the critical list after a day, but Ryan lived eleven days on life support.

  Tom would never forget the day they’d returned to the ranch and walked into the empty house. Emily had started sobbing. He had embraced her, holding her while she cried quietly, and he’d felt as if his heart was shattering. He couldn’t console her. All he could do was tell her he was sorry.

  “You couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him. We’ve lost our baby,” she cried.

  Tom couldn’t keep back tears and his throat was raw. He held her close and stroked her head and knew there were no words to console her.

  It was a crushing loss they would have to live with all their lives. Her words—“You couldn’t save him”—would also be with him the rest of his life.

  As he reflected on the difficult times, Tom wiped his eyes, then ran his hand over the scar on his knee. He would always have scars on his body and his heart from that night. Tom put his head in his hands. He should have been able to save Ryan. It was his fault and he had failed Emily.

  He was beginning to get some peace in his life from working on the ranch, beginning to be reconciled to their separation, when Maverick sent the message to Emily.

  Now Tom was back with her, and there
was no way he could stop their attraction. She was irresistible, yet when they were together, it conjured up all the old hurts.

  Tonight was the first time he had kissed Emily since he moved out of the house last year. It had stirred his desire and probably ruined his chances of sleep for the night. How long would they be together? Was she in danger, or was Maverick just a coward who would go away after a while?

  Until Tom knew, he wasn’t going to leave her alone. He should have saved Ryan. He damn well wasn’t going to let Emily get hurt.

  He just hoped Nathan caught Maverick soon so life would settle down and he could try to pick up the pieces of his torn-up life again and move on.

  He sat for an hour on the porch, gazing into the night, listening for any strange noises. He heard the sound of a frog croaking somewhere nearby. There was a slight breeze. There were no cars on the residential street. He dozed and woke and finally decided he should be closer to Emily, so he went inside. Emily had kept some odd pieces of her uncle’s furniture, like the kitchen table and a rocker, but she’d gotten rid of the beds and sofas, leaving nowhere to sleep except the floor or his sleeping bag. Or with Emily.

  “Damn,” he whispered, thinking he had to get her out of his thoughts or he would not have another peaceful night until they caught Maverick. Then he went upstairs quietly and crossed the room adjoining hers with a door between them left open. He stretched out on his sleeping bag. He was asleep instantly. Twice in the night he stirred and went back to sleep, only to wake before sunrise.

  He showered and dressed and went to the kitchen, where he cooked oatmeal.

  As he poured orange juice, he heard footsteps and then Emily appeared. He was unable to resist letting his gaze drift to her toes and back up again. His breath caught in his chest.