“That’s all,” she repeated. As her hand smoothed Glory’s mane, Lainie searched for patience for this last battle.
“Yes’m.”
“Does everybody who wants a horse have to present you with an itinerary?”
“No, little missy.”
“Then, Nelly, please...why should I be treated differently?”
“Because you not be them, little missy. You be you.”
She remained silent.
He looked down at his scuffed boots, then back up. “I care about all the people on this here ranch, but you’re special. That’s just the way of it. I don’t never want to be so scared like that again that I’m sick inside.”
And then she felt sick inside. Exhaustion hit her, hard. But there was no defeat in it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, but she wasn’t apologizing for the accident or even the flippant yonder. She regretted her resentment against this wizened old man who stood before her, laying down the law. Yes, she was being treated differently, but that was the way of it. Reed hadn’t attempted to restrict her, Miles had and had then backed down, but Nelly wasn’t going to back down.
And she understood. That was just the way of it.
“No need to be sorry, little missy.” Placing one hand on her shoulder, he laid the other upon Glory’s mane. “Now I’m gonna take care of both these horses here, and I want you to go rest. That be okay with you?”
She nodded, no longer trying to hide how sore and tired she was. “That be okay with me.”
Chapter Twenty
A week later, Lainie was back on top of Glory again, feeling cautious, but not afraid. She and Glory were still friends. She was surprised and grateful she’d healed so quickly—and she was especially thankful that she didn’t resent the verbal itinerary she’d had to present to Nelly.
But she was wary of Miles and Reed. Since everybody knew everybody else’s business, she figured they had to know about Nelly’s new rules, and that possibility bothered her more than the rules did. She wasn’t a child in need of guidance, disliked the appearance of exactly that, and she feared her acquiescence might give them ideas. It was tough enough already holding her own against two bullheaded men. Evidently, however, it seemed that although nothing about anyone else escaped Nelly’s attention, Nelly kept things about himself and his own dealings under his hat.
So life at Lone Tree went on with its surprises, joys and aggravations.
One afternoon Reed entered Miles’s office, had a short conversation with him, then in resignation walked over to the sofa. Standing behind it, he slouched against the back of it, stared at the bronze carpet and folded his arms. His expression told Lainie that if a tin can were handy he’d give it a good kick.
“My own fault,” he muttered. “I should’ve ordered the confounded thing two months ago.”
Lainie had overheard the brief exchange. Reed was tired of doing without a printer, had found the one he wanted online, but it wasn’t stocked in town. He couldn’t spare one of the men or himself, had asked point blank if Miles would volunteer to go after it, but Miles wasn’t volunteering.
“I’ll go,” Lainie offered. “Nothing waiting for me here that can’t wait a little longer.”
Reed’s eyes remained downcast. “It’s close to a hundred miles.”
“They’re positive they can’t deliver it sooner?” Miles asked.
“They said two weeks. I asked three times and got the same answer three times.”
“I said I’d go.” What was the problem? They couldn’t hear her?
“You sure?” Miles asked, looking her way. “Round trip will take up the rest of the day.”
“Not the way she drives,” Reed said.
Her gaze traveled back to him.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He gave her back stare for stare. “You’ve got a heavy foot. You trying to claim you don’t?”
“It’s my foot and your printer. You want to give me the ordering info or not?”
He gave her the info.
*
She hadn’t timed herself, but figured it was around two and a half hours later that she drove around to his side and found him and Randy on the porch. Reed’s gaze followed her, then he looked at his watch.
Lainie shook her head at the steering wheel, released the trunk latch and got out of the car. If he wanted to argue, she’d tell him they’d tossed the box in as she’d slowed down on a drive-by.
But apparently Reed didn’t want to argue. “Go on inside and help yourself to something cold,” he told her. “I’ll just be a minute.”
She stayed put, leaning against the car. That glance at his watch had commented on her driving habits, but the long look told her he had more on his mind than the printer. He may not have had time to go shopping, but she doubted he’d turn down another seduction attempt if the opportunity arose.
Opening the car door, she turned the key to auxiliary and lowered the window. Without the air conditioner running, the car would quickly turn into a hot box.
The conversation ended and Randy tipped his hat to Lainie as he walked by. She smiled back and walked around to the trunk. She tilted the box and had it halfway out before Reed reached her.
“Hey, what—” This was clearly not what he’d intended. But the box was heavy, she already had it, and there was nothing to do but accept it from her. When he attempted to replace it inside the trunk, she closed the lid and smiled.
He didn’t smile back. “What’s your hurry?”
“What hurry?” She walked around him to the car door.
“Take time for a cup of coffee, Lainie. Iced tea? How about that beer?”
At each offer, she shook her head. Her smile deepened as she turned and looked at him. “No thanks, Reed. See you at supper.”
He exhaled loudly. “You surely are the most obstinate woman I’ve ever come across.”
“I’m not obstinate. I just don’t have the same thing on my mind that you do.”
“Oh, yes, you do.”
She pursed her lips as she looked at him, then decided not to argue a point with as little verity as that one. She got in the car and closed the door.
“Lainie?”
“Hmm?”
“One of these days, I won’t have my arms filled with a heavy box, and you won’t be conveniently mounted on a fast horse. What are you going to do then?”
She reached for the key, still in the ignition. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Lainie?”
“Hmm?”
“You do understand that having won the right to name the time and place means that eventually you do have to name a time and a place.”
She stared at the key, then turned and gave him a long look. He returned it. “You sure are pushin’ it,” she told him.
“And you’re draggin’.”
She drove away with her light mood gone. Yeah, she was dragging, had grown into the habit of it, felt weighted with it and was becoming downright tired of it.
That evening, she stepped out of the shower, wrapped the towel around her, then worked on her hair with the brush and blow dryer. Then she gave herself a good look in the mirror. She wasn’t happy with what she saw, she wasn’t happy with anything. She was out of sorts, on edge, and not looking forward to the long night. Nor was she looking forward to tomorrow, nor the next day, nor the day after that.
Doggone that Reed Smith anyway. She had enough on her plate without him coming along and complicating matters. Dealing with Miles—or she should say, dealing with her subterfuge regarding Miles—was a full-time job in itself, yet she seldom gave that a thought anymore. Her mind was full instead of his foreman, who promised the moon with those sky blue eyes. Promising, challenging...
In her gut, she knew he was right. She could fight it as much as she wanted to, but it was going to happen. Eventually. If she stuck around, it was going to happen.
She closed her eyes and swore softly. Doggone that Reed Smith anyway. Yes, she wanted him as much
as he wanted her. His arms around her, hers around him, his hands on her, hers on him. And those butterfly kisses he was so good at, she wanted them all over her. Wherever his lips wanted to light. Just thinking about it made her—
She snapped her eyes open and stared at the ceiling.
In the same sudden motion she turned from the mirror and dropped the towel.
At her closet, she scanned what hung there then chose a simple jumper in lime-green with a square-cut neckline and slipped it on over her head. She wouldn’t need anything else. Quickly, she slipped her feet into sandals. If she ran into a snake out there, it was going to have to take care of itself.
Never having walked between her house and Reed’s before, she was surprised at how long a walk it was, and was grateful to find no one else out. She remembered the evening stroll she’d taken the night that Reed had confronted her, and the conflicting emotions running through her then. Well, she was through with conflicting emotions.
She knocked on his door without hesitation, but was aware of anticipation settling here, there, then somewhere else. So, okay, maybe she’d pushed conflicting emotions aside, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still have nerves.
When he opened the door, he didn’t appear surprised to see her. He looked her up and down, then his gaze settled on her feet.
Her feet, for crying out loud! The man had a fetish. She wore nothing but a brief jumper and sandals, and he chose to look at her shoes. She wondered how long it’d take for him to discover she wore nothing beneath the jumper.
He wasn’t wearing his boots either. Apparently he didn’t plan on looking for any more snakes tonight. He appeared comfortable and relaxed in stocking feet, with his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose, exposing his bare chest. Hairless, she noted, and excellent musculature.
Lainie swallowed past a constriction that had formed in her throat.
“I think it’s time,” she said when she was through swallowing. She told herself her state of breathlessness was due to the long walk over here.
She was certain he understood exactly what she was proposing, but he displayed neither pleasure nor displeasure. He appeared more amused than anything else.
“You do, huh?” He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. “And, tell me, have you given any thought to a place?”
So he wanted to play it that way. No problem. She’d suspected she had the power to disconcert him, too, if she ever wanted to wield it, and she was looking forward to wielding it.
She closed the distance between them, slipped her hand inside his shirt, and with her fingertips lightly traced his bare waist around to his back. His body jerked. She stretched and softly pressed her lips against his neck.
He muttered something she didn’t catch. One arm went around her back, the other beneath her knees, and he swept her up. Kicking the door closed with his foot, he gave it a healthy slam.
He strode fast to his bedroom, twisting just in time to prevent one end or the other of her from colliding with the doorjamb. When he stopped at the side of the bed, his Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed, and their eyes caught and held. Slowly he put her on her feet. She was as much aware of his control as she was of his heat, need, tension, and his ardor that wanted to run pell-mell. She wanted to tell him don’t worry about control, go for pell-mell, but she didn’t have the breath to tell him anything. His hands cupped her face.
“You’re sure,” he whispered.
“I’m sure.”
She heard the tremble in both their voices, and felt the physical tremble in him. Which she shared. Without his support, she wondered if she’d be able to remain upright. He gave her a kiss that started out deep and got deeper. Her arms wrapped themselves around him like they’d wanted to for so long. His hands traveled slowly down her back, to her waist, then her hips.
Then they stilled abruptly, possibly because they’d encountered no straps or seams. He pulled back, his gaze froze on hers, then he got her out of the green dress with lightning speed.
Hot urgency snapped them both up with a vengeance. They silently agreed he wore way too many clothes and she tried to help him out of them while kicking her shoes off at the same time. One sandal hit the wall, and she didn’t know what happened to the other one. His second foot got stuck in his jeans. He staggered, bumped into her, and she was knocked backwards onto the bed. She bounced, rolled, and barely managed not to fall off the other side.
How romantic. At her giggle, which was borne more out of nerves than amusement, he gave her an astonished look. But it didn’t hold as his gaze quickly left her eyes to roam the length of her. At the heat of it, she caught her breath. Then, with even greater fervor, he returned to the job of getting out of the stubborn jeans.
“Oh, wait,” she said. “Do you have—”
“Oh, uh, yeah.” His gaze traveled between the nightstand and the dresser. “Somewhere.” Hopping on one foot, he reached for the nightstand. He opened the drawer with too much force and the whole thing fell to the floor. He found what he wanted, left everything else where it lay, then continued struggling with the pants leg that didn’t want to let go of his foot.
Again Lainie laughed. Neither had planned the evening, but if they’d tried, they couldn’t have written a more unconventional script. He gave her another look of disbelief. Then his face cleared and slowly creased into a grin that said, okay, I could use some help here. He sat on the edge of the bed and allowed her to untangle him from his pants. With his hands now free from the snarl of his jeans, he found something else to do with them.
Twisting her head, she met his eyes. “If you do that,” she whispered, “I can’t do this.”
The jeans surrendered and fell to the floor.
Quickly she found herself on her back and his mouth on hers. No room for languor—hot need had got in its way. And it hadn’t spared Reed. He was like a coiled spring. She felt his desperate, agonized attempt at control.
Raising his head, supporting himself on his forearms, he said, “We’ve waited so long for this. I want to make it last, but—”
“The faster you do what I want you to do,” she breathed, “the happier I’ll be.”
He gave her the sexiest, most devastating grin she’d ever seen, and took her at her word.
*
Having no idea if it was ten minutes later or an hour and ten minutes later, she drew in a deep breath, stared at the ceiling and waited for the world to return to its axis. Next to her, his breathing was as heavy as hers. Heavier.
“Well.” She took another breath. “Well.”
His chuckle was slow and deep. “May take a while for you to make up your mind, but once you do, you know exactly what you want and how to get it.”
“Yeah? You’re not exactly a shrinking violet, yourself.”
She rose onto her elbow and looked down at him. She kissed him, long and slow and easy. He reciprocated. She drew back and traced his cheekbone with her fingertips.
“What’s that smile for?” he asked.
“Just thinking how nice it is not to be holding anything back.”
His teeth flashed in his own quick smile. “I’ll second that.”
“Where did you get your eyes? From your mom or dad?” Ah, pillow talk. Maybe not the best part, but a good part nonetheless.
“Neither.” His voice was lazy. “My grandfather. At least that’s what my grandmother told me.”
“You don’t remember them? Your parents, I mean.”
“Nope. My mother died of pneumonia when I was just a couple months old. My dad died early, too, but I’ve got vague memories, like standing at Four Corners with my foot next to his. His was huge, and I wondered if mine would ever grow that big.”
Her fingers investigated dark beard stubble, aware of a touch of whisker burn on her face, but not bothered by it. In fact, she hoped for more contact with that bristle before the night was over.
“Did it?” she asked.
“Probably not. He was big, six feet or more, and
my mom was petite. I’ve got pictures of them. I’m a mixture, got my build from both of them.”
“Same here, only the other way around. My mom was on the tall side. I’m shorter and lighter, so I guess my father had to have had a small stature.”
“You don’t know?”
She grew still. “Well, yes. I saw a picture of him. He died early, too. My biological father, I mean.”
She relaxed. There wasn’t room for anyone else in her world right now but Reed. Her hand slipped beneath the sheet. She felt sated, not cheated—wow, did she not feel cheated—but she’d missed touching and looking and snuggling and wanted to remedy that.
He caught her hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I thought we could take it slow and easy this time.”
“Is this decision yours?”
“Yep. I won it. Remember?”
“That was for the first time.” Suddenly she was on her back and he was leaning over her.
“Oh,” she said, startled by how fast he’d moved. “Then I take it this is your decision?”
“Yep.” His hand slipped beneath the sheet. Her breath caught.
“And what is your decision?”
“Thought we could take it slow and easy this time.”
*
Lainie awoke before the sun had completed its introduction to the morning. She remained still, watching the drapes lighten, and listened to the unfamiliar but not unpleasant sound of Reed’s mild snoring beside her.
And recalled the night. She swallowed hard. Wow.
But it was time to get herself back to her own house. Her gaze traveled over the dim room until she located the muted green of her jumper. She eased off the mattress, got the dress on and then looked for her shoes. One sandal leaned upright against the closet door and the other had landed on his boots, hitting one just right and knocking it over. The symbolism gave her pause, and she smiled.
Lone Tree Page 15