Three days later, Cal eyed the rigid line of Lyn’s back as she walked across the yard to where he had the stock trailer hitched to the truck. He was taking a couple of dry cows to the sale barn over in Philip today, and Lyn had asked if she could ride along to do some shopping.
It was going to be a damned long drive, if the silence of the past couple days was any indication.
The way he got along with his mother was his affair, he told himself for at least the hundredth time. He’d been a good host. What more could she ask? He ignored the little voice in his head that prodded at his guilty conscience, the mental pictures of his mother’s sad eyes. He owed her nothing, dammit! He didn’t even have to invite her into his home, and he had. He’d been perfectly friendly and scrupulously polite. After the way she’d abandoned him, he thought his behavior was pretty magnanimous.
So what in hell was he thinking about it for? That was ancient history.
He followed Lyn to the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. “You ready?”
She nodded. Just nodded. Didn’t even bother to speak. As snooty as she’d been, it wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d written a note to ask him about riding along. Then she wouldn’t have had to speak to him at all.
He was right. It was the longest forty minutes he’d ever spent in a truck. And possibly the chilliest, too. He dropped her off on Pine Street in front of the variety store.
“Thank you,” she said, never meeting his eyes as she slid out of the truck. “I’ll walk over to the sale barn and meet you when I’m done.”
Three hours later, the auction was winding down. He stood with one booted foot against the wall in the very back of the tiered seating area, watching the bidding on a big three-year-old black gelding that was dead lame. He was reasonably pleased with the price his cows had brought. Absently, he eyed the horse again. Too bad it was lame. It was a good-looking piece of horseflesh. His father had owned horses trained by the same fella who broke this one, and Cal still remembered how well they’d handled. Breaking colts was a gift. Some people were better at it than others. He’d always preferred to buy horses that had been broken by someone who knew what they were doing. Absently, he wondered what had become of the horse that had been his during his youth, when Lyn appeared at his elbow.
“Hey,” he said, wondering if shopping had worked any of the kinks out of her recent attitude. “Want to get some lunch?”
“Can you buy that gelding?” She pointed at the sale board and he heard excitement in her voice. “He’s going to the processing plant if you don’t.”
“No. Look, he’s lame.” He pointed to the horse’s hobbling gait. “Too bad. I’d have liked to have bought another Triple Creek horse.”
“I looked at him outside,” she said in an urgent whisper. “The guy selling him says he thinks it’s navicular disease, but I’m pretty sure it’s an abscess back near the heel. I borrowed a pair of tongs from the vet and checked. I can heal it, Cal; I know I can.”
He took his eye off the horse and stared at her, wondering how far he should trust her judgment. Navicular disease was an erosion of the bone that couldn’t be cured, and the horse would have to be put down anyway. On the other hand, an abscess could be cured with a hoof knife, some soaking and antibiotics in the right hands. Lyn wasn’t one to offer opinions idly. She had a good touch with the animals that needed healing at the ranch. And she’d worked for veterinarians for several years….what the hell. He raised his bid card.
Two minutes later he was the proud owner of a lame gelding that he hadn’t intended to buy in the first place. “You’d better be right about this,” he told her.
She nodded. “I am.” Then she placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed it lightly. “Thank you. I couldn’t bear to see that horse destroyed. He’ll make you a good cowhorse.” Her eyes were a deep mossy green and her cheeks were pink from her walk in the cool air; she looked about as delectable as any woman he’d ever seen, and his pulse hammered as his body reacted to her nearness. He couldn’t even recall why he’d been annoyed with her.
“You’re welcome.” As usual, her lush, wide mouth drew his attention. He had more fantasies about those full lips on his body than he could even remember any more. The urge to slide his arm around her and pull her to him for a thorough kiss was strong, and for a moment, the air around them seemed to still and thicken to a frozen instant in time. Her breasts rose and fell as she took several shallow breaths and his gaze dropped lower, to where the soft flesh made gentle mounds beneath her denim jacket. His body stirred and he hastily dragged his attention back to her face. The jeans he was wearing weren’t going to hide anything and he’d be damned if he’d have all the ranchers hanging around here today snickering about McCall and his…his what? Household help didn’t exactly define Lyn’s place in his life anymore.
“Hello, folks.” A hearty slap on the back would have made him stagger if he was a smaller man, and he turned to see Marty Stryker grinning at them both.
“Hi, Marty.” Lyn seemed pleased to see him and Cal felt his hackles rising at the familiar way Marty slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.
“You still hanging out with this fool?” he asked her. “Just say the word and I’ll whisk you away from your life of servitude. We could be married tomorrow.”
Lyn laughed, and the husky music touched a chord in his chest that traveled straight to his groin. He shifted uncomfortably as she said, “Sure, Marty. And of course, if I married you, I would live a life of luxury.”
“You would, sweet thing.” Marty’s sky-blue eyes twinkled. “The only small favor I’d ask is that you be a mother to my daughter. Cheyenne’s a quiet, well-behaved child. You’d barely know she was around.”
Cal snorted at the mention of Marty’s wild child as Lyn hooted. “Do you have Irish ancestors?” she asked. “Because you sure know how to spin a tale.”
Marty laughed, too. “How come nobody falls for that line?” He reached for the double doors that led to the front hallway. “I’m going to have some lunch before I head home. You guys want to join me?”
Five minutes ago, lunch with Lyn had been at the top of his agenda. Now, however, he was anxious to get going. To have her to himself again. “Sorry,” he said to Marty. “I just bought a horse and I want to get him home.”
Marty shrugged. “No problem. Lyn can eat with me and then I’ll drop her by your place on my way home.”
There was a small silence. Lyn looked at the dusty concrete floor rather than at Cal. “I have to stop by the pharmacy before I leave,” she said. “Is that a problem?”
Marty shook his head. “Not at all.” He crooked his elbow and offered her his arm. “Your meal awaits,” he said to her. He grinned over the top of her head at Cal. “See you later, buddy.”
He was so frustrated he had to grit his teeth as he watched Marty turn and walk away with Lyn. Damn that sneak! No way was he going to let Lyn marry Marty. Everybody knew how desperate the man was to find a woman to keep his household and his kid in line. Lyn had had enough of men dictating her life—he wasn’t going to have Marty trying to be the next one.
Noble of you.
Silver entrusted me with Lyn’s welfare when she came to work for me, he told the mocking voice in his head. I’m just looking out for what’s best for her.
So kissing the girl silly and then picking a fight is how you look out for her?
Well, hell. There was no answer for that one. In a filthier mood than he’d been in when he arrived, he stomped out of the sale barn through the sloppy parking lot and pulled his trailer around to pick up the horse he hadn’t planned to buy.
Six
Lyn waved as Marty backed his truck around and left the yard. She’d had a pleasant afternoon catching up on the latest local gossip with him, though she’d had a moment of bitter disappointment at the sale barn when Cal had abandoned her to Marty’s invitation.
So what had she expected? He’d been surly as a bull since the night his
mother had eaten with them. She knew she’d overstepped her bounds. She was just his employee. It was none of her business how he and his mother got along.
Even if he had kissed her senseless twice in the past week.
For the twentieth time, she cautioned herself not to read too much into those kisses. Cal hadn’t dated another woman since he’d been in Kadoka. She probably looked good to him solely because she was the lone female in his life day after day.
Still, she had looked good to him, at least a little. And she was still trying to get up her nerve to let him know it was all right for him to…to enjoy her body if he wanted her. He’d given her so much that she’d do anything to repay him.
The weather had turned downright cold and a hefty wind was blowing; a light snow was whirling around and she’d heard they were supposed to get maybe a foot. She shivered as she took her purchases indoors but she came out again immediately and headed for the barn. She couldn’t wait to see the new horse.
Cal had put him in the roomiest stall. She walked clear up to the rail before she realized Cal was inside with the gelding.
“Hello,” she said, feeling awkward. She remembered the look in his eyes when she’d agreed to stay in town with Marty. “How’s he doing?”
Cal grunted. “Settling in fine. The leg doesn’t look very good, though.”
“Let me see.” She frowned and opened the door, slipping into the stall and rubbing the horse’s velvety nose after he’d inspected her. She moved to his side and lifted the gelding’s leg, checking the suspected abscess carefully. After a moment she looked at Cal. “If you’ll hold him, I’ll cut it down and let it start draining,” she said. “He really should be on an antibiotic, too.”
“I picked up some before I came home.” Cal tossed a bottle at her. “Figured you’d want to get him straightened out right away.”
She barely caught the big plastic bottle with both hands. “Thank you.”
“I did it for the horse.” His voice was surly.
It seemed there was little she could say that wouldn’t irritate him so she didn’t say anything more, just gathered antiseptic cleanser, a hoof knife and other things she would need. They worked in silence, except for occasional soothing murmurs to the gelding and the rising howl of the wind as it brought the snow. Finally she rose. “I was sure it was an abscess. You’ll be able to start working him before you know it.”
Cal muttered something she didn’t catch as she cleaned up and gave the horse the first antibiotic, but when she started for the house he was at her side.
The wind was screaming around them as Cal pushed open the heavy barn door. She started forward right behind him, but just then a capricious blast wrested the door from Cal’s grasp and sent it slamming shut—right on her.
Her breath whooshed out and she saw stars as the door caught her directly between her breasts and pinned her against the frame. Too stunned to figure out exactly what had happened, she tried to gasp for air and couldn’t. Pressure squeezed her chest; she opened her mouth to cry out but no sound came forth. Her arms flailed; she couldn’t get a grip on the edge of the door, though it would have been useless in any case. The wind had to be blowing around seventy miles an hour. Combined with the weight of the door, there was no way she could move it.
In the next instant, Cal yanked the door away. She started to slide to the floor but he was there, swinging her into his arms and shouting an order at one of the hands who’d appeared. “Shut that goddamn door!”
He jolted her as he ran full out across the yard and into the mudroom, and she groaned as her desperate lungs filled with a necessary breath of air.
“God, baby, I’m sorry, oh, God.” Cal laid her on the braided rug and started working on the buttons of her jacket. “Can you talk? How bad is it?”
“I’m—okay.” She wheezed, but as her breathing steadied she found her voice again. “I think I’m okay.”
“Any pain in your legs?” He ran his hands down each of her legs from hip to toe, his fingers probing.
“No.” She struggled to sit up, to reassure him. “It didn’t hurt me badly. Scared me silly, though.”
He held her upright and stripped the jacket away, then pressed her back again and started on the buttons of her flannel shirt. His big fingers fumbled repeatedly, and after a moment he muttered a vivid curse. Then, before she knew what was happening, he took the front of the shirt in both hands and ripped it apart. Buttons flew.
She gasped, and this time it wasn’t because she couldn’t breathe. “Cal!” Her hands flew up to encircle his wrists.
His rough fingers unclasped the front hook on her bra. Her restraining hands barely slowed his progress; for all the notice he gave, she might as well have saved her energy. Then he folded back the edges of the shirt, and she realized with gratitude that he’d been careful not to expose her nipples. It was a silly thing, but she felt slightly less bare. His index finger traced a gentle path down the midline of her body. “You’re going to bruise.”
She stopped moving, stopped trying to tug his hands away. The sensation of his callused finger on her skin was an exquisite torture. Compared to the shimmering excitement coursing through her, the minor dull ache of the bruising barely registered.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze lifting to meet hers. “The wind tore that door right out of my hand. I wasn’t expecting it—” He stopped and bowed his head, and a shudder ran through his big body. “God, you could have been hurt badly.”
She couldn’t bear to see him so distressed. “It wasn’t your fault.” She raised herself on her elbows, wincing a little as she inspected the six-inch red line streaking down her breastbone. She’d seen worse. She sat up, forgetting her discomfort. “Cal, it wasn’t your fault,” she repeated. She put her hands on his shoulders and massaged lightly, then leaned forward and laid her cheek against his hair. “It was an accident. I’m not hurt badly.” She chuckled. “And I should know.”
He stirred then, lifting his head, and she realized with jolt that their faces were only inches apart. His eyes were shielded from her gaze; he was looking down at her body again, and the sight of the long, dark eyelashes lying against his cheek brought a strange intimacy to the moment. Something softened and stirred in her belly, and she shivered.
Then he lifted his hands, slipped them inside her opened shirt around her rib cage just above her waist. His hands were so big his fingers nearly met around her slender frame, and his thumbs lightly rubbed up and down, sliding almost to the underswell of her breasts with each stroke.
It was as if he never heard her reassurances. “I’m sorry,” he said again, so quietly that she could barely hear him. He bent slowly and leaned forward, pressing his lips to her flesh directly between her breasts where the red mark was already showing purple mottling. “Your skin is so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing featherlight kisses against her. “Like warm satin.”
Her hands slid from his shoulders up the column of his strong neck and into his hair, gripping the thick strands in an involuntary shiver of pleasure. “Cal,” she whispered.
He stilled for a moment. She almost stopped breathing, sure that he was going to draw away, and her disappointment of earlier in the day was nothing compared to the bitter regret she felt now.
Then he moved again—
And instead of moving away, his mouth moved slowly, purposefully over the rise of one breast until she felt him tug her nipple into his mouth with a gentle suckling.
She whimpered as great waves of sexual arousal shot through her, swamping her awareness of everything but Cal and his clever hands and seeking mouth. She held his mouth to her breast, arching her back and pushing herself at him. Never in her whole life had she felt as she felt now, and she cradled his head in her arms, pressing kisses against his hair.
He lifted his head then, sliding his palm up to cup the breast he’d abandoned as he sought her mouth. She lifted her face to his, meeting his lips with a soft moan that made his big body tremble. He spear
ed the fingers of his other hand through her hair and tilted her face even more, dropping quick, urgent kisses over her cheeks and eyelids and forehead and nose before coming back to drink deeply from her mouth again.
When he lifted his head, they were both panting.
“What am I doing?” He grinned crookedly. “I mean, I know what I’m doing, believe me, but why am I doing it? You’ve just been smashed in a barn door. You need—”
She stopped his words simply, by pressing her mouth to his. “You,” she whispered against his lips. “I need you.”
He drew back a fraction. “You aren’t afraid…you know, of being with a man?”
“You’re the only man I’ve thought of being with.” She looked into his eyes. “And I could never be afraid of you.”
He hesitated, and fear chilled her. Was he going to stop?
Then her fears evaporated and she closed her eyes as his strong arms flexed, drawing her closer as his mouth began to move against hers again with masterful purpose. He drew her to her knees against him and she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal behind his jeans as he pressed against her body. “Maybe you should be,” he said, but there was a smile in his voice, and in response, she rolled her hips against him.
He groaned then and tore his mouth from hers, and her eyes flew open. He helped her to her feet, and she stood uncertainly as he turned away from her, but he only took a moment to lock the back door. Then he was with her again, tearing open the buttons of his shirt and shucking out of it before ripping his T-shirt over his head. He gathered her to him, leaning back a little, and she shivered at the gleam in his hooded gaze as he surveyed her flesh uncovered by the shirt he’d torn open. He pushed the edges of the material back and gently pulled her against him, and she inhaled sharply as the sensitive tips of her breasts crushed against the hard-muscled planes of his. He slowly rubbed back and forth against her nipples. The tender peaks drew into taut little points at the sensual contact. He smiled at the sight, rasping his thumbs across them, moving in steady circles, stroking and tugging with just the right amount of pressure until an unending river of sensation streamed from her breasts to her womb and she was rocking restlessly against him.
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