by Diana Palmer
“Most children have those,” she reminded him. She leaned back against his arm and looked up at him. Impulsively she reached up and touched the white line of scar tissue on his face, noticing the way he flinched and grabbed her hand. “It’s not unsightly,” she said softly, and she smiled. “I told Sarah it was a mark of courage, and it is. You got it because of me. It was my fault.”
His fingers curled around hers and pressed before he led them back to the scar and let her touch it. “Saving you from a wild bronc,” he recalled, smiling because it was a lot like what had happened to Sarah in the corral. “You weren’t after a lacy white handkerchief. Instead it was a kitten that had run into the corral. I got to you in the nick of time, but I ran face first into a piece of tin on the way out.”
“You used words I’d never heard before or since,” she murmured sheepishly. “And I deserved every one of them. But you let me patch you up, anyway. That was sweet,” she said unthinkingly, and then lowered her eyes.
“‘Sweet.’” His hard lips pursed as he studied her face. “You’ll never know what I felt. The atmosphere was electric that day. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to glare at you. It kept me from doing what I really wanted to do.”
“Which was?” she asked, curious, because she remembered too well the cold fury in his face and voice as she’d doctored him.
“I wanted to pull you into my lap and kiss the breath out of you,” he said huskily. “You were wearing a cotton blouse with nothing, not a damned thing, under it. I could see the outline of your breasts under the blouse and I wanted to touch them so badly that I shook with longing. It wasn’t more than a day later that I did just that, in the stable. You didn’t know,” he guessed, watching the expressions play across her face.
“No,” she admitted breathlessly. “I had no idea. Of course, I was shaking a little myself, and trying so hard to hide my reaction from you that I didn’t notice what you might be feeling.”
“I lay awake all night, remembering the way you looked and sounded and smelled.” He glanced at Sarah, watching her make a pointed castle in the sand and stack twigs around it for doors and windows. “I woke up aching. And then, days later, they read the will, and I went wild. Nina was clinging to me, I was confused about what I felt for you and for her.” He shrugged. “I went crazy. That’s why I said such cruel things to you. I wanted you so badly. When I saw you later, I couldn’t resist one last chance to hold you, to taste you. So I kissed you. It took every last ounce of willpower I had to pull back.”
“I really hated you for that,” she said, remembering. “I knew you were getting even for the will, for what your uncle tried to do. I never realized that you really wanted me.” She smiled self-consciously.
His lips twisted. “Do you think a man can fake desire?” he asked with a level stare.
She flushed and avoided his gaze. “No.”
“At least I know now that I’m still capable of feeling it,” he said heavily, his eyes going again to Sarah. “It’s been a long dry spell. I couldn’t bear the thought of having some other woman cut up my pride the way Nina did. And no one knows better than I do that I’m not much good in bed.”
“I think that depends on who you’re in bed with,” she said, staring at his shirt. “When two people care about each other, it’s supposed to be magic, even if neither of them has any experience.”
“It wasn’t magic for us, and we both fit into that category the day the will was read,” he murmured softly.
“That’s true. But I fought you. I didn’t understand what was happening,” she confessed.
He studied her down-bent head. “Do you think it might be different now that we’ve both had five years to mature?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
His lean hand touched her hair hesitantly and trailed down her cheek to her soft mouth. “I haven’t learned a lot,” he said, his voice quiet and deep. He drew in a slow breath. “And you knock me off balance pretty bad. I might frighten you if things got out of hand.”
He sounded as if the thought tormented him. She lifted her eyes and looked up at him. “Oh, no,” she said softly. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”
His heart stampeded in his chest when she looked at him that way. “Would you go that far with me?” he whispered.
She couldn’t sustain that piercing green-eyed gaze. Her eyes fell to his hard mouth. “Don’t ask me, Blake,” she pleaded. “I would, but I’d hate both of us. All those years of strict upbringing don’t just go away because we want them to. I’m not made for a permissive life. Not even with you.”
She made it sound as if he were the exception to the rule, and he felt a sting of pure unadulterated masculine pride at her words. She wanted to. He smiled slowly. That made things a little easier. Of course, the walls were all still up. The smile faded when he realized that those scruples of hers were going to stop him, because his own conscience and sense of honor wouldn’t let him seduce her. Not even if she wanted him to.
“I guess I’m not either, if you want the truth.” He sighed. “You and I are a dying breed, honey.”
She heard the endearment with a sense of awe. It was the first time he’d used one with her, the very first time. She was aware of a new warmth deep inside her as she savored it in her mind.
“Daddy, look at my sand castle!” Sarah Jane called. “Isn’t it pretty? But I’m hungry. And I want to go to the bathroom.”
Blake smiled involuntarily. “Okay, sprout. Come on.” He moved slightly away from Meredith. “She doesn’t settle for long. Her mind is like a grasshopper.”
“I think it’s the age.” Meredith smiled. She knelt and held out her arms for Sarah to run into, and she lifted the child, hugging her close. “You smell nice,” she said. “What do you have on?”
“It’s Daddy’s,” Sarah said, and Blake’s eyebrows shot up. “It was on his table and I got me some. Isn’t it nice? Daddy always smells good.”
“Yes, he does.” Meredith was fighting a losing battle with the giggles. She looked at Blake’s astounded face and burst out laughing.
“So that’s where it went,” he murmured, sniffing Sarah and wrinkling his nose. “Sprout, that stuff’s for me. It’s not for little girls.”
“I want to be like you, Daddy,” Sarah said simply, and there was the sweetest, warmest light in her green yees.
Blake smiled at her fully for the first time, his white teeth flashing against his dark tan. “Well, well. I guess I’ll have to teach you how to ride and rope, then.”
“Oh, yes!” Sarah agreed. “I can ride a horse now. And I can rope anything. Can’t I, Merry?”
Meredith almost agreed, but Blake’s eyes were making veiled threats.
“You’d better wait a bit, until your daddy can teach you properly,” Meredith said carefully, and Blake nodded in approval.
“I hate to wait,” Sarah muttered.
“Don’t we all,” Blake murmured, but he didn’t look at Meredith as he started toward the car. “Let’s find someplace that sells food.”
They found a small convenience store with rest rooms just a little way down the road, where they bought coffee and soft drinks and the fixings for sandwiches, along with pickles and chips. Blake drove them back to the park, which was beginning to fill up.
“I know a better place than this,” he remarked. “Sarah, how would you like to wade in the river?”
“Oh, boy!” she exclaimed.
He smiled at Meredith, who smiled back. “Then let’s go. We’re between the Canadian and the North Canadian rivers. Take your pick.”
“The North Canadian, then,” Meredith said.
He turned the car and shot off in the opposite direction, while Sarah Jane asked a hundred questions about Oklahoma, the rivers, the Indians and why the sky was blue.
Meredith just sat quietly beside Blake as he drove, admiring his lean hands on the wheel, the ease with which he maneuvered through Jack’s Corner and out onto the plains. He didn’t try to talk while he
drove, which was good, because Sarah wouldn’t have let him get a word in edgewise, anyway.
Sarah’s chatter gave Meredith a breathing space and she used it to worry over Blake’s unexpected proposal. He wanted her to move in with him and Sarah, and she was more tempted than he knew. She had to keep reminding herself that she had a lot to lose—and it was more than just a question of her reputation and his. It was a question of her own will and whether she could trust herself to say no to Blake if he decided to turn on the heat.
He wasn’t a terribly experienced man, but that wouldn’t matter if he started kissing her. She still loved him. If he wanted her, she wasn’t sure that all her scruples would keep her out of his bed.
And being the old-fashioned man he was, she didn’t know what would happen if she gave in. He’d probably feel obliged to offer to marry her. That would ruin everything. She didn’t want a marriage based on obligation. If he grew to care about her, and wanted her for his own sake and not Sarah’s…
She forced her mind back to the present. It didn’t do to anticipate fate. Regardless of how she felt, it was Blake’s feelings that mattered now. He had to want more than just her body before she could feel comfortable about the future.
Chapter 7
Blake drove over the bridge that straddled the Canadian River, but he didn’t stop on its banks. He kept driving until finally he turned off on a dirt road and they went still another short distance. He stopped the car under an oak tree and helped Meredith and Sarah Jane out into the shade.
“Where are we?” Meredith asked, disoriented.
He smiled. “Come and see.” He took Sarah’s hand and led them through the trees to a huge body of water. “Know where you are now?” he asked.
Meredith laughed. “Lake Thunderbird!” she burst out. “But this isn’t the way to get to it! And this isn’t the North Canadian or the Canadian. It’s in between!”
“Don’t confuse the issue with a lot of facts,” he said with dry humor. “Isn’t this a nice place for a picnic?” he went on. “We have shade and peace and quiet.”
“Who owns this land?”
He pursed his lips. “Well, actually, it’s part of what I inherited from my uncle. It’s only fifteen acres, but I like it here.” He looked around the wooded area with eyes that appreciated its natural beauty. “When I need to think out something, I come here. I guess that’s why I’ve never built on it. I like it this way.”
“Yes, I can see why,” Meredith agreed. Birds were singing nearby, and the wind brushed leafy branches together with soft whispers of sound. She closed her eyes and let the breeze lift her hair, and she thought that with Sarah and Blake beside her, she’d never been closer to heaven.
“Sarah, don’t go too near the edge,” Blake cautioned.
“But you said I could go wading,” the child protested, and began to look mutinous.
“So I did,” he agreed. “But not here. After we eat, there’s a nice place farther down the road where you can wade. Okay?”
For several long seconds, she matched her small will against his. But in the end she gave in. “Okay,” she said.
Blake got out the cold cuts and bread, and a heavy cloth to spread on the grass. They ate in contented silence as Sarah offered crumbs to ants and other insects, fascinated with the variety of tiny life.
“Haven’t you ever seen a bug before, Sarah?” Meredith asked.
“Not really,” the little girl replied. “Mama said they’re nasty and she killed them. But the man on TV says that bugs are bene…bene…”
“Beneficial,” Blake said. “And I could argue that with the man on TV, especially when they get into the hides of my cattle.”
Meredith smiled at him. He smiled back. Then the smiles faded and they were looking at each other openly, with a blistering kind of attraction that made Meredith’s body go hot. She’d never experienced that electricity with anyone except Blake. Probably she never would, but she had to get a grip on herself before it was too late.
She forced her eyes down to the cloth. “How about another sandwich?” she offered with forced cheer.
After they finished the makeshift meal, Blake drove them down to the small stream. It ran across the dirt road, and Sarah tugged off her cowgirl boots in a fever to get to the clear, rippling water. Butterflies drifted down on the wet sand, and Blake smiled at the picture the child made walking barefoot through the water.
“I used to do that when I was a boy,” Blake said, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the trunk of the car and watched her. “Kids who live in cities miss a hell of a lot.”
“Yes, they do. I can remember playing like this, too. We used to get water from streams occasionally in oil drums, when the well went dry.” Her eyes had a wistful, faraway look. “We were so poor in those days. I never realized how poor until I went to a birthday party in grammar school and saw how other kids lived.” She sighed. “I never told my parents how devastating it was. But I realized then what a difference money makes.”
“It doesn’t seem to have changed you all that much, Meredith,” he said, studying her quietly. “You’re a little more confident than you used to be, but you’re no snob.”
“Thank you.” She twisted the small gold-braid ring on her finger nervously. “But I’m not in your class yet. I get by and that’s all.”
“A Porsche convertible is more than just getting by,” he mused.
“I felt reckless the day I bought it. I was thinking about coming back here and facing the past,” she confessed. “I bought it to give me confidence.”
“We all need confidence boosters from time to time,” Blake replied quietly, his eyes on Sarah. “She’s slowly coming out of the past. I like seeing her laugh. She didn’t in those first few days with me.”
“I guess she was afraid to,” Meredith said. “She hasn’t really had much security in her young life.”
“She’s got it now. As long as I live, I’ll take care of her.”
The pride and faint possessiveness in his deep voice touched Meredith. She wondered how it would feel to have him say the same thing about her, and she blushed. Blake might allow himself to become vulnerable with a small child, but she had serious doubts about his ability to really love a woman. Nina had hurt him too badly.
They stayed another few minutes, and then Sarah announced that she needed to find a bathroom again. With an amused smile, Blake loaded them into the car and set out for a gas station.
They drove around looking at the countryside until almost dark. Then they went home and Meredith helped Sarah get a bath. After that, she settled down by the child’s bedside to tell her some stories before she fell asleep.
She was halfway through “Sleeping Beauty,” when Blake came into the room and sat down, legs crossed, in the chair by the window to listen. He was a little intimidating, but Sarah laughed and encouraged Meredith, and in no time she was lost in the fantasy herself.
She told the child two more stories and Sarah’s eyelids grew heavier by the second. By the time Meredith had started on “Snow White,” Sarah Jane was sound asleep.
Meredith got up, tucked the covers around the tired little body and bent impulsively to kiss Sarah goodnight.
“That’s another thing she’s missed,” Blake remarked as he joined her by the bed. “Being kissed good-night.” He shifted, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at his daughter. “Showing affection is difficult for me.” He glanced at Meredith. “My uncle wasn’t the kissing sort.” He smiled a little. “And I guess you know that.”
She laughed. “Yes. I remember. He was a sweet man, but he hated touching or being touched.”
“So do I,” Blake replied. His eyes slid over Meredith’s soft oval face. “Except by you,” he added quietly. “I used to love to get cut up when you were here because you always patched me up. I loved the feel of your hands on my skin. I remember how soft and caring they were.” He sighed heavily and turned away. “We’d better get out of here before we wake her up.”
It was obviously embarrassing to him to admit how much he’d enjoyed her doctoring. That was surprising. She hadn’t realized until he’d said it just how many minor accidents he seemed to have had in the old days, when she was around. She smiled to herself. That was one more tiny secret to cherish in the years ahead, when these sweet days were just a memory and Blake was far out of her reach.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked curtly.
She looked across at him as she closed Sarah’s door. “I was thinking how ironic it is. I loved it when you needed patching up because it gave me an excuse to get close to you.” She colored a little as she averted her eyes.
“Isn’t it amazing how green we both were?” he asked. “Considering our ages. We weren’t kids.”
“No.”
The atmosphere was getting tenser by the second. She could almost feel the hard pressure of his mouth on her lips, and the way he was watching her, with that single-minded level stare, made her knees feel weak under her.
“How do you remember all those fairy tales?” Blake asked to relieve the tension that he was feeling.
“I don’t know. It’s a knack, I guess. Blake, you really do need to get her some storybooks,” she said.
“You’ll have to pick them out,” he replied. “I don’t know beans about what kids her age read.”
“All right. I’ll see if Mrs. Donaldson has any in her shop. I noticed some books in the back, but I didn’t take time to look at them.”
“I appreciate your help tonight,” he said. “Some facets of being a parent are difficult. Especially dealing with frilly underwear and baths.” He leaned against the wall, in no hurry to go downstairs, and his green eyes wandered slowly over Meredith’s exquisite figure in the revealing button-up white tank top and well-fitting blue jeans. His eyes narrowed on that top because he didn’t think there was anything under it and her breasts were hard tipped when they hadn’t been a minute ago. “You’re very maternal.”
“I like children. Shouldn’t we go downstairs?” she added nervously, because she felt the impact of his eyes on her breasts.