by Marin Thomas
“I wasn’t sure you drank wine.”
He winked. “A girl I once dated educated me on fine wines.”
A burning sensation filled Marsha’s chest. She didn’t care to hear about the women in Will’s past, but she would like to know how she stacked up against them. “May I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Serious love?”
She laughed. “Is there any other kind than serious?”
“I thought I was in love once.” He took another sip of wine. “I proposed to her.”
You wanted to know. Marsha toyed with the piece of chicken on her plate. “Who was she?”
“Her name was Rachel. We met at a rodeo.”
“What happened?”
“I had a dream the night after I’d proposed to her.” Will’s stare bored into Marsha. “I dreamed about you.”
Her heart stuttered. “Me?”
“You were crying and telling me how sorry you were.”
Tears burned her eyes.
“After the dream, I couldn’t stop thinking about you or the day I’d told you to get an abortion.” He shrugged. “I broke off my engagement to Rachel and I haven’t seen her or heard from her since.” Will’s eyes darkened. “For months afterward I wondered about you. Where you were. How you were doing.”
“But you never asked my parents about me.”
“Shoot, no.” Will chuckled. “Your father scares the bejesus out of me.”
“I kept in contact with Hillary Bancroft,” Marsha said. “When we talked on the phone, I’d find a way to ask if she knew what you were doing, who you were dating or if you’d married. She never mentioned that you’d gotten engaged.”
“No one knew.” He grinned. “I’m surprised you kept tabs on me.”
“Why would you be surprised? You’re Ryan’s father.”
“I’ve never understood why you wanted to go to the prom with me in the first place. When Buck told me to ask you out, I thought he was nuts.”
“Really?”
“You were a pastor’s daughter and I was Will Cash.” He helped himself to a second piece of chicken. “Why would a churchgoing good girl want to be seen with a guy like me?”
“Because I was a good girl didn’t mean I was immune to your bad-boy charm. I thought you were the most exciting guy in our class.”
“I should have known not to get carried away with the pastor’s daughter,” he said.
“I got carried away, too, Will.”
“I was more experienced, I should have had better control.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” After their laughter faded, she said, “We made an amazing child together.”
“I won’t argue with you there. Ryan showed me his notebook of ideas and it blew me away.” Will topped off her cup with more wine. “He’s a bright kid.”
She wasn’t sure now was the right time to bring up Will’s dyslexia, but he opened the door when he mentioned the journal. “Ryan’s pretty impressed with your knowledge, too.”
“Impressed how?” Will set aside his plate and wiped his mouth and fingers with a napkin.
“He says you’re a walking encyclopedia of knowledge on the Hoover Dam.”
“He told you I had trouble reading at the prison, didn’t he?”
“He mentioned that.” She searched for the right words then gave up. “Ryan wants to teach you to read.”
Will bolted from his chair and walked to the water’s edge. “They tried to help me in school, but the reading exercises never clicked and my grandparents couldn’t afford to pay for a private tutor.”
“You don’t have to accept Ryan’s offer. I just wanted you to know in case he brings up the subject with you.”
“How did he figure out I was dyslexic?”
“He noticed a few things you did and researched them on the internet.”
“It’s always going to be there between you and me and Ryan, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Both of you are smart and I’m not.”
“Wait a minute. I’ve never discussed your IQ with Ryan. I don’t know what grades you got in school.”
“Ds and Cs.” He scowled. “But you’ve thought about me not going to college, haven’t you?”
“I—” She wouldn’t lie to him. “Yes.” She’d wondered if things between them would have ended differently if Will had gone to college, too. Would he have settled down sooner and offered to marry her, if she’d told him that she’d kept their baby?
“Actually,” she said, “Ryan believes if you were a better reader, you’d be smarter than him.”
“He said that?”
She nodded.
“I’ll talk to Ryan about my dyslexia, but right now I owe you a long overdue apology.”
“For what?”
“I should have apologized when you first arrived at the farm, but I was too angry and confused after learning about Ryan.”
“No, Will. I’m the one who needs to say I’m sorry.”
“Do you regret not being truthful with me from the beginning?”
“Yes. No matter how valid I believed my reasons, you had a right to know I didn’t go through with the abortion.”
“I’m sorry for taking advantage of you the night of the prom,” Will said.
She forced a smile. “Are you sorry because you wished you’d had sex with that cheerleader?”
“Truth?”
The setting sun framed Will in a seductive glow and it drew her out of her chair. “Yes,” she said, walking toward him. “Tell me the truth.”
“Once I got a glimpse of what was under your dress, I forgot all about Linda Snyder.”
Marsha stopped in front of Will—close enough to touch him. She threaded her fingers through his. “You were a bad boy with the most soulful brown eyes. Every day you rode into the school parking lot on that old Harley, my heart raced.”
He squeezed her hand.
“Look at you now. When guys in our class are losing their hair and growing potbellies, you’re as hot as ever.”
His fingers brushed her cheek. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.” She flung her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.
He groaned. “This is a mistake.”
“We’ve made one before, and we both survived.” If the past had taught Marsha any lessons, it was that she worried too much about the future.
Chapter Ten
Will had dreamed of holding Marsha in his arms and loving her—not like a groping teenager but an experienced man who knew how to please a woman.
His mouth hovered over hers, drawing out the anticipation. Her blue eyes softened—did she want him as badly as he wanted her?
He pressed his mouth to hers and thoughts of taking it slow dissipated when her tongue teased his lip. It would be like this between them—hot and raw as the rocky desert beneath their feet. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and tasted a hint of wine then deepened the kiss, making sure there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. Right here. Right now.
He lowered the strap of her sundress, moving the material aside, then nuzzled her bare skin. He worked the buttons of her bodice free and stared at her naked breasts. She was stunning. When he strummed his thumb over her pink nipple, she moaned. Their gazes locked as she ran fingers through his hair, coaxing his head lower. He found her boldness incredibly sexy.
Their passion escalated and when she lifted her leg against his thigh he felt his control slip. “I don’t want us to make love in a pickup again.” They should have a mattress beneath them so he could sink into her body and kiss every inch of her silky skin.
If you had your own place you could take her there.
Will ignored the voice in his head. The last thing he needed when he made love to Marsha was a reminder that he lived in a bunkhouse with his brothers.
“Let’s get a motel room,” he said.
“I don’t want to wait that long.” She pressed her hands against Will’s chest until he backed up a step, then she slipped out of her panties and tossed the scrap of lace on the ground.
She stood before him, breasts exposed and no panties on beneath her sundress. He wasn’t a saint and when her fingers reached for his belt buckle he closed his eyes and gave up the noble fight. He’d make love to her anywhere she wanted—backseat, truck bed or against the tailgate.
Her hand slid beneath the waistband of his BVDs, and she pressed her nails into his naked backside. “Touch me,” she whispered.
“You’re making me crazy.” He buried his face between her breasts and inhaled her feminine scent. Inch by inch his fingers worked the hem of her dress higher. He caressed her thigh then moved to her bare bottom and squeezed a moan from her. She lifted her leg, resting her knee against his hip, then shuddered when he stroked her heat.
Marsha was too damned hot and he’d nixed his plan to finesse his way through their lovemaking after she’d removed her panties. “Get my wallet from my pocket.” Marsha turning up pregnant after they’d had sex once had scared the bejesus out of him. From that day forward he’d never been caught unprepared. She handed him the wallet and he removed a condom.
“Let me.” She rolled the condom on, and he gritted his teeth, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass them both and lose control. As soon as she finished, he shoved her skirt higher and buried himself inside her.
For a moment they froze—barely breathing as they stared into each other’s eyes. A hint of a smile tugged the corners of her mouth and he kissed her, hoping to convey what he felt in his heart. No matter what happened between them after tonight, he’d never regret this moment with her.
Tonight he could pretend that he was the kind of man Marsha envisioned herself growing old with. The kind of father she wanted for their son. The kind of son-in-law her parents would approve of.
He was none of those things, but in Marsha’s arms, he almost believed he was perfect.
* * *
AS SOON AS Marsha opened the door off the garage and turned on the light she swallowed a gasp. Her father sat at the kitchen table in his pajamas and robe. And he didn’t look happy.
“What are you doing up this late?” It was one-thirty in the morning and her father usually conked out in his recliner before the late-night news ended.
“Your dress is dirty.” His gaze raked over her.
“I’m a grown woman, Dad.”
“You’re still my daughter and you’re the mother of my grandson. I expect you to behave appropriately and not—” his gaze zeroed in on the dirt smudges along the hem of her dress “—come home looking like a girl who spent the night with a man she has no business being with.”
“Stop right there before you say something you’ll regret.”
A standoff ensued. Marsha gave in first, hating that her father was ruining a special night for her. Because of his health, she pushed aside her irritation and removed two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with water. Then she added an herbal tea bag to each and placed them in the microwave. When the timer dinged, she brought the mugs to the table and sat.
“I’ve always had feelings for Will, Dad.” She ignored his scowl. “I don’t know where things will lead between us, but life is too short not to take chances.”
“You have a son.” Her father pointed to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Ryan’s your number one priority.”
“I’ve made Ryan a priority all these years.” She blew on her tea. “That’s why I’ve never married or invested my energy in personal relationships.”
“I don’t see how a relationship with William Cash will have a positive impact on my grandson.”
Marsha realized that she and her father had never had it out after he’d learned Will had fathered Ryan. Maybe it was time. “What is it exactly that you don’t like about Will aside from the fact that his mother had children fathered by different men?”
“Aimee Cash was no good,” he said.
“You can’t hold Will’s mother against him. He had no control over her actions.” Good grief, had her father forgotten the home she’d been born into before he’d adopted her? “Will’s grandparents were highly respected in the community.”
“Ely and Ada should have taken their daughter to church every Sunday instead of allowing her to come home pregnant over and over again.”
“Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian, Dad, and it doesn’t make you worthy or better than others.”
“I don’t want to see Ryan get hurt,” he said.
She suspected her father’s worry over Ryan was compounded by his cancer diagnosis and concern that one day he wouldn’t be there for his grandson. “I respect and love you, Dad. You and Mom took me into your home and hearts and raised me as your daughter.” She squeezed his hand. “It wasn’t easy living up to your expectations. I know I disappointed you deeply when I gave birth out of wedlock.” She considered her words carefully. “I wanted to shield you from as much gossip and criticism as I could. That’s why I’ve stayed in California.”
Her father’s already pale face grew whiter. “I never insisted that you stay away from Stagecoach.”
“I know, but it bothered you that I was a single mother and it hurt me that when I brought Ryan home you’d always suggest I attend the second church service on Sunday mornings. I knew it was because fewer people attended that service. And you rarely went anywhere in public with me, but you’d always take Ryan on errands with you.”
He stared into his mug.
She hadn’t said those things to hurt her father, but he had to understand that his decisions impacted her, too. No one was perfect. And since they were having a heart-to-heart, she might as well put everything on the table. “I told you who Ryan’s father is this summer, because I selfishly want your forgiveness before it’s too late.” Her eyes watered, but she refused to cry.
“I should be the one begging your forgiveness.” His smile was tinged with sadness. “You were a gift from God to your mother and me and I’ll always be grateful that you’re my daughter.”
Marsha’s heart swelled to twice its size. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between me, Will and Ryan, but I hope you’ll give us your blessing while we try to find our way together.”
Not a week went by since Ryan had been born that she hadn’t thought of Will. Dreamed of him at night or asked Hillary what he was up to. Marsha’s crush on Will hadn’t dissipated through the years and she needed to deal with her feelings for him so she could move forward with her life—with him or without him.
“Forgiving you for keeping William a secret is easy, Marsha.”
She sensed a but coming.
Her father pressed his lips into a thin line while he considered his words. “But I can’t support you pursuing a personal relationship with him.”
“Why not?”
“You forget that I’m not only a pastor but I’m also a father, and I believe my daughter deserves better than William Cash.”
“What do you mean better?”
“You two aren’t compatible in the broadest sense.”
“Good grief, Dad, we grew up in the same town. Went to the same high school.”
“You’ve g
ot a Ph.D. and William hasn’t gone to a trade school never mind college.” He grunted. “How will you carry on a meaningful conversation with him if all he knows how to do is hammer boards together?”
Shocked by her father’s bluntness, she hoped his declining health wasn’t stealing his compassion for others. “I’ve never heard you speak that way before.”
“You wanted honesty and I’m giving it to you.” He smacked his palm against the table. “I want better for my daughter and grandson.”
“What if Will makes me happy? What if Will and Ryan form a bond?” No way was she telling her father that Ryan was excited about helping Will overcome his reading disability.
“You’re meant for better things than being stuck in a small town with a husband who works sporadically on construction jobs. Are you willing to throw away your career for a man who’ll never reach your level of success? Think about what kind of example that sets for Ryan?”
“You don’t need to worry about Ryan. He’ll blaze his own path regardless of where he lives or who’s in his life.”
“Not with a Cash cowboy as his father,” he protested.
“For a man who isn’t supposed to judge others you sure have a lot of opinions about Will.”
“William won’t encourage Ryan to go to college. He’ll tell my grandson there’s nothing wrong with using his hands to make a living.”
There was nothing wrong with a blue-collar job if the person enjoyed what they did and made a decent living at it. Marsha couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more behind her father wanting the best for her and Ryan. What drove him to say these insensitive things about Will was anybody’s guess.
“What’s going to happen to your mother after I die?” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“The church will continue on, but your mother and I have used up most of our savings fighting my cancer.”
Was money the reason her father decided not to continue treatment for his disease?
“I’ve got a fifty-thousand-dollar insurance policy on myself. Your mother can’t live off of that for long.” He spread his arms wide. “This house belongs to the church. She’ll be forced to move out after I’m gone.”