She tried to remind herself why she was in this mess in the first place. Because of him. Because of a mistake he’d made years ago. But hating him in the abstract, from far, far away was much easier than hating the flesh and blood man who held her at night and told her he wanted her to stay.
When they’d finished eating—food Kate couldn’t even look at, much less touch—and the rain had stopped, Olivia had hugged Kate at her car.
“I don’t know exactly what happened out there, but listen to me. Don’t you forget,” she’d whispered in her ear. “You are in charge of your life, Kate. Not Melissa, not even Finn. When you live in ‘what could happen,’ you miss out on all the good stuff that is right in front of you. Listen to your heart, not fear. In my experience, your heart will never steer you wrong.”
Easy for you to say. Her heart seemed to do nothing but steer her wrong.
Now, she sat at home—Finn’s home—trying to drown out that fearsome little voice that always grew louder and bolder than the one that preached bravery. She had to tell him. There really was no choice. But she dreaded his reaction. Once this deception came out to that Missoula judge—and it would—he would look like a liar to the court, despite the fact that the only reason he’d married her was for the sake of his children, which was the whole point. But the job she’d kept from him was somehow, even worse. A much more personal lie that would drive the final nail in the coffin.
We’re kind of cut from the same cloth. Aren’t we? Melissa had accused. Was she right? Was she simply in denial that her habit of running from men was any different from what Melissa had done? Were the lies and half-truths she told not self-preservation, but simply a sign of a much darker issue?
Oh, what a tangled web we weave...
Finn’s truck pulled into the driveway a little after three p.m. and she jumped up at the sight of him. Relief that he was back after a long radio silence momentarily superseded her worry about herself and the mess she’d created, and she called to the children.
They were at his truck door before he got it open. Through the driver’s side window, Kate could see the weary look on his face. The tough weekend and a long flight home showed on his face. But his eyes met hers with something even heavier than weariness. Something had happened. A chill ran through her.
Not until he stepped out of the truck did she see the neon-green cast on his left arm. Oh, no. His movements were stiff as he reached for the children to pull them into a hug.
“Daddy!” Cutter exclaimed. “We’re twins now! Did you break your arm, too? What happened?”
“Just a fracture, like yours, Snip. No big deal. You like the color?”
Cutter and Caylee were all over him, then, dragging his suitcase between them and herding him into the house. When he reached Kate, who was staring at him in dismay, he reached out and put his good arm around her shoulder, dragging her along with the pack—a gesture the children didn’t miss, or seem to mind.
“I’m okay,” he murmured. “It’s nothin’.”
“Oh, Finn. It’s not nothing.” Kate leaned her head against his chest and threw her arm around his waist. “I’m sorry. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t see the point in worrying you.”
She sent him a ‘really?’ look. “The point is, you should know better than that. I was worried when I didn’t hear from you last night.”
“It was complicated. I’ll tell you what happened later.” He pulled souvenirs from his bag for the twins, a toy bull for Cutter and a rodeo princess pink t-shirt for Caylee. After a few minutes of the two peppering him with questions—which he seemed to answer with extra care—they disappeared with their treasures into the backyard to entertain themselves on the wooden swing he had hung from the tree for them.
“What happened?” she asked when the kids were out of earshot.
He braced his elbows on the sink, looking out the window at the twins. “This,” he began, shrugging at his arm, “is nothing. A little inconvenience.”
Bracing herself, she waited for more.
“Right before my ride, a friend of mine, Brody Walker, had a bad wreck with the bull he was riding and got hurt pretty bad. He got whipped down onto the bull’s horns, knocking him out, then got hung up, pulled into the well and nearly killed. The bullfighters couldn’t get him loose. It was bad. He was in surgery most of last night and I was at the hospital with his wife and daughters after they patched me up.”
“Oh, no...” She couldn’t help but picture that happening to Finn and she tried to keep her gaze from falling to his casted arm.
“I almost didn’t ride. Probably should have withdrawn and gone to the hospital with him right then and there. But that would have been bad form. My mind wasn’t in the game and this is the result,” he said, indicating his broken arm. “I made nearly eight seconds, before High Jinx took a bad spin on me and I lost my balance. He stomped on my arm for good measure and the rest of me feels like I went through the blender. But that’s nothing compared to Brody. They airlifted him to Boise this morning. He’ll likely never ride again. They’re frankly hoping he’ll walk.”
She exhaled an in-held breath and thanked God that he wasn’t the one nearly killed. Did that make her a bad person? “He must be a good friend. That’s awful. I’m...I’m so sorry, Finn.”
He turned his back to the counter and leaned a hip there tiredly. “Losing the money feels kind of inconsequential right now. But as far as this place goes, it’s not. That means I still have to do Copper Mountain Rodeo.”
“But your arm—!”
Weary, he shook his head. “That’s my free hand. As long as I can manipulate the rope to release my other hand if I need to at the end of the ride, I’m good to go. I just need to...clear my head. Get my focus straight. I let myself get distracted in Springfield. That won’t happen again.”
She didn’t want to think about him on a bull right now. Frankly, the whole thing made her feel a little nauseous, with him landing inches away from something much, much worse. But she felt suddenly clear about one thing: distracting him now about what had happened with Melissa might just be a fatal mistake.
“Let’s not talk about that now. C’mon.” She extended her hand to him. His warm fingers closed around hers as he moved away from the counter, real slowly, beside her. She studied his movements. “See that? You’re in no shape to be thinking about riding again right now. You need to go lie down and get some rest. Even though you’re too stubborn to admit it, I know you’re in pain right now.”
“Nah, I’m all right,” he said, but she could tell he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t all right. Not even close. His friend’s wreck and his own brush with disaster had etched a haunted look in his eyes. She’d never known him to lose confidence in the arena before, but seeing your friend nearly killed was more than enough to mess with the head-game required to climb on the back of a two-thousand-pound bull.
Now was not the time to tell him about her disastrous encounter in Crawford Park. She would have to wait until he’d had a chance to get his feet under him again before pulling the rug out from under him the rest of the way.
Then he did something that caught her off guard. He pulled her up against him and hugged her, tucking her head beneath his chin and sliding the fingers of his good hand into her hair. Kate closed her eyes, and tightened her arms around him, inhaling the manly scent of him, wishing things could be different.
“I know things haven’t been...easy between us,” he murmured against her hair, “or uncomplicated, but this weekend reminded me that I can’t take anything for granted. Like time. Or you. I don’t want to fight with you, Kate. I don’t want us to take to our separate corners and pretend there’s not something else going on here.”
There were a hundred things going on here, she thought, none of which she could even mention. She pressed her forehead against the strong plane of his chest.
“Whatever is standing between us,” he went on, “I want us to put that behind us. I know you didn
’t sign up for a real marriage, but I want a chance at that. No, don’t pull away. Just listen for a second.”
She settled against him as tears threatened and guilt clogged her throat.
“I know you care about the kids. They’re crazy about you. Maybe you could even come to love them.”
“Finn—”
“Maybe you could even forgive me. But if we keep backing away from each other this way, nothing will change.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I want to give you and me a chance.”
At his words, her heart leapt and raced ahead, only to sink again at the thought of what he’d say when she told him what she’d done.
Timing. Timing was everything.
“I know I’m not wrong in thinking you still feel something for me, Kate. What happened the other night, outside, you can’t deny that.” His thumbs brushed against her back in a slow circle.
Heat stirred inside her like an eddy at his touch. Oh, yes. She felt. She wanted. She wished for more than he even imagined. But none of those meant anything now. They were all based on lies. Lies and secrets she couldn’t seem to help keeping. “It’s...it’s so much more complicated than what happened out there.”
His sweet breath fanned her face, warm and steadying. And he pressed his lips against the crown of her head in a long, lingering kiss—the kind husbands must give their wives. The kind of kiss that meant “I’ve got you. I’ll protect you.” The sort of kiss she didn’t deserve.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he murmured. “Only if we make things that way. Putting our past aside can be as simple as taking things one day at a time. As simple as saying yes.”
If only the answer was that easy.
Her impulse was to run. Exit stage right before the wheels fell off the cart. But saying ‘yes’ to Finn was something she’d already done—albeit on a temporary basis. And only now, when she’d already done that kneejerk, irrevocable thing, did he ask her for more.
The irony didn’t escape her. But to admit what she’d done to him now, when he was already down and needed all his confidence for the Copper Mountain Rodeo, would be unforgiveable. She couldn’t be responsible for him losing that, too. Or, ultimately, everything he’d hoped for on this ranch.
No, she would have to find a way to repair the damage she’d done on her own and try to fix things. Somehow.
With his arms still around her, she spread her fingers against the corded muscles of his back, wishing she could be that girl he used to know, but knowing that was impossible. “All right. Let’s call a truce, then,” she said softly. “Let’s just pretend we both believe in a happily ever after—” whatever that means—“and just enjoy the time we have.”
If that was her last gift to him, she decided, so be it. Even if she withdrew her name from the job in Missoula—which she would do on Monday morning—it was already too late. The damage was done. The court could only see their ‘marriage’ as an attempt at deception—which was certainly true—and rule accordingly. Once Finn learned what she’d done, and he’d lost everything he held dear, he rightly would blame her. There would be no reconciliation between them. No pretending there could be a happy ending. But she’d known that all along, hadn’t she?
***
That night, after the children were fed and long asleep and she and Finn had said good-night, Kate lay in her bed alone, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Every sound in the quiet house was amplified and after they’d both been in bed for an hour, she heard his shower go on.
She sat up with a frustrated sigh. Longing, deep and impossible, rippled through her as she imagined him, wet and naked. There really was no point in doing what she was thinking of doing, except to make things harder. On the other hand, how could things be harder than they already were? But he was right about one thing: taking to their separate corners was getting them nowhere.
Quietly, she left her room and made her way to his. She heard the sound of his shower and as she made her way closer, and through the bathroom doorway, she could see his casted arm, wrapped in plastic, braced against the wall of his shower. His head was down and the water sluicing over his strong, beautiful body was not steamy, but cool, leaving his skin chilled with goose-flesh.
She inhaled sharply at the sight, feeling like a peeping Tom, but unable to tear her eyes away. Everything about him was beautiful, from the curve of muscle in his bicep to the strong lip of his lats, carving a line down the cage of his ribs. He stood with one knee bent, braced against the wall, and her eyes fell to the many scars his encounters with bulls had left on him. There, on his shoulder and another in the small of his back near his hip where bruises from this latest ride also marked him in purple and blue.
And then, he lifted his head and saw her.
Surprise warred with heat in his golden eyes and his pupils grew dark as she moved toward him. The nightgown she wore slipped off and puddled on the floor.
His lips parted, watching her walk toward him. With a flick of his wrist, he changed the temperature of the water as she opened the glass door of the shower and stepped inside. Swallowing thickly, he took in the sight of her nakedness with a longing that stirred him down below with a quick flicker of movement before he pulled her up against him to drop his mouth on hers.
Hungrily and with abandon, she kissed him back, wanting him to understand everything she meant by that kiss and all the things she could never say. The kiss was an apology and a wish at once and she melted into the delicious press of his mouth on hers. His tongue breached the seam of her lips on her invitation and danced with hers.
With his one good arm, he tugged her up hard against him, his fingers spreading across her skin like fire. Steam rose from the hot water pouring down on them, but that couldn’t begin to compete with the heat that stirred between them.
His touch made her ache. Every female part of her begged for his attention. And almost as soon as she had that thought, he did just that, dropping his mouth on her beaded nipple while kneading her other breast with his good hand. And he drew her nipple into his mouth until she felt her knees go weak and he pressed her back against the warm wall of the shower.
“Ah, Kate...I thought for a second I conjured you up,” he said, puckering her skin with a trail of kisses, making his way toward her belly.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, threading her fingers into his wet hair. “And I see, neither could you.”
“Something chronic since you came back in my life.” He ran his hand down the side of her hip and traced the shape of her thigh toward the juncture of her legs. When his fingers found her hot, slickness there, a low animal sound stirred in his throat.
She hissed in a breath and tucked her leg around his hip, giving him access and a way to ease the ache he’d discovered. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his hair, but she meant she was sorry for so much more. “What about your arm?”
“Shhh,” he murmured, lifting his head and watching her expression shift into surrender as he touched her there. She tilted her hips against his hand to ease the ache he was stirring. A smile curved his mouth and she closed her fist around his velvety hardness, giving him a sweet taste of his own medicine. She stroked him with a fierce tenderness.
“Ahhh...” he gasped into her ear. “Mercy—” He curved his body around hers like a quarter-moon and she basked in his glow.
“No mercy. That would be too easy,” she breathed. “Since rules one, two and three just swirled down the drain.”
Against the hot column of her throat, he said, “Technically, the sharing the bed rule still stands since this is a shower. But,” he said, sliding another finger inside her, “we can dispense with that forthwith.”
She clutched his wrist and held firm. “Ohhh, no. Don’t you move.”
He chuckled and she felt him sink down, leaving wet trails of kisses down her belly until he reached that spot where his fingers had, a moment ago, teased her. With a last glance upward, he replace
d his hand with his mouth.
Her head fell back. Holy rule breaker!
She flung her arms backward to support herself, praying she wouldn’t slip and fall because the strength in her legs was deserting her. Feeling herself slowly disappear, aware only of that small spot of torture and the flick of his tongue, she wondered why she’d thought this was a bad idea. She couldn’t seem to recall any valid reason, whatsoever.
Oh, yes. There was that one, but she wouldn’t think of that now, because he was pushing her onto some razor’s edge of need, tugging her like a ribbon through the eye of a needle and on the other side...on the other side was—
Suddenly, he was standing, filling her completely—the missing piece of her puzzle. She gasped and nearly came at the exquisite pleasure. An answering shudder tore through him and he stilled inside her, dropping his mouth on hers to kiss away any reservations she might have. But she had no coherent one. Only welcome.
They moved together with the steamy water pouring down on them, slowly at first, then letting the ancient rhythm choose them until the friction ignited between them. Locked together with his good arm supporting her, she came with a fury and cried out into the curve of his shoulder. And he followed her right after, holding her as if he’d never let her go.
There they stood for a long time after, holding one another until the water cooled and their breathing calmed. And then he carried her to his bed, breaking the third rule once and for all.
Chapter Nine
They fell into a pattern, over the next week, of hard work during the day and long nights spent together in his bed. Finn found her gone before the sun rose and the children were never the wiser.
When the kids were in school, Kate volunteered to become his left hand in the field. Since fixing the leaky barn roof with his left arm out of commission was out of the question—and even with two good hands, such work might be too dangerous for him to tackle on his own—he turned his attention to the other projects that needed doing before he could bring the stock here. With a rented posthole digger, they managed to build a new bull pen beside the barn for the bull he hoped to purchase with the winnings at Copper Mountain Rodeo.
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