by Susan Fox
“You’re not too sore?”
“Not if you take it easy.”
“Slow and easy this time. That’s a promise, honey.”
He eased down and, starting with her lips, began to fulfill that promise. It was like he was determined to kiss every inch of her body. She felt cherished and sexy, melty and aroused, absolutely blissful.
When he reached her tummy, Wade paused. Then, deliberately, he kissed her scars. The ones from when she’d had Jessica, and the ones from the lost baby. She was no longer embarrassed about them, and she liked that he didn’t pretend they weren’t there. They were part of her. Part of her and Wade, too. Of their grief, their guilt, emotions they now shared.
He dropped his face against her skin and she felt new moisture—from tears, not from his exploring tongue.
She clasped his head to her soft flesh and tears seeped from her eyes, too.
They stayed like that for a long moment, and then he began to kiss her again. Each touch of his lips was a healing one, a step toward their new life together.
Chapter 15
Christmas Eve 1995
“Jessica,” Miriam chastised teasingly, “stop nibbling that popcorn. It’s for the popcorn chains.”
“We already have enough chains,” the girl said, undaunted.
“I don’t know how you can have any room left in your tummy, Jessie-girl.” Wade paused in stringing lights. “Not after that delicious meal your mom cooked.”
Miriam smiled from her perch on a two-step ladder, where she was hanging chains of popcorn and bright red cranberries on the full branches of the fir Wade had cut down. Her husband was such a sucker for her lasagna, not to mention the pumpkin pie she’d made for dessert. It felt so wonderful to be full of energy again.
And joy. This afternoon, she and Wade had knocked off work early and gone riding with Jessica. Crisp air, dazzling sunshine on clean white snow, the jingle of harness and puff of the horses’ breath—simple pleasures, but oh how lovely it was to enjoy them again.
Now she said, “That was a beautiful ride this afternoon.”
Her daughter gazed up from hanging her handmade ornaments on the tree. “It’s nice to have you come riding again, Mommy.”
“Yes, it is,” Wade said.
“I’m so glad we’re keeping the ranch,” Jessica said.
“We’re all glad,” Miriam said. It was going to be tough, but they had a viable plan in place, thanks to their parents, neighbors, and friends. She and Wade were determined to make it work—and to keep talking, rather than nurse secrets and worry about things in private. As part of that plan, they had let Jessica, and by extension her friend Evan, know that the budget was tight and everyone had to pull his or her weight. That was true of their new addition, too: the Border Collie pup sleeping in a basket by the fire. The dog, named Dandy-girl by Jessica, would more than earn her keep as a working cattle dog.
Riding their own acreage this afternoon, seeing the gentle sweep of the land under its snowy blanket and listening to the chitter of birds in the evergreens, Miriam had felt a new sense of wonder. She’d always loved the ranch, but now she was coming to understand it in all its complexity. The demands it made and the rewards it offered to those who loved and tended it.
Wade touched her jean-clad leg in a soft caress. “Let me finish that up. You hang those ornaments Evan gave us last year. I don’t dare touch them.”
She climbed down and he caught her by the waist for a hug and a surreptitious pat on her backside. With careful fingers, she picked up one of Evan’s paper lace snowflakes.
“I’m glad Ev’s coming for Christmas dinner again,” Jessica said.
“So am I,” Wade said. “He’s a good kid. Just wish the boy liked cattle.” He shot Miriam a sly look, and she winked at him. They’d already speculated whether as the children grew up friendship might turn into something more. There was nothing Wade would like better than for Jessica to marry a man who wanted to be part of Bly Ranch. Right now, Evan Kincaid seemed determined to leave Caribou Crossing and head for New York City, but the boy was young. Things changed, as he and Miriam well knew.
Chatting lazily about this and that, the three of them finished putting the decorations on the tree. “Now,” Wade said, “we get our reward.” He flipped a switch and the sparkly tree lights came on.
“Ooh, it’s so pretty!” Jessica said.
“It’s lovely,” Miriam agreed as she took a few pictures. “We did good, family.”
Wade came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her. “We did very good.”
She crossed her arms over his and leaned against his warm, muscular body. She’d always found him so strong, so capable, and so sexy. In the past couple of months, she’d learned a lot more about him: sensitivities, vulnerabilities, compassion, creativity, humor. A thought struck her, one she would share with her husband when they were alone.
Jessica came over to lean against her side, and she and Wade tucked her into their small circle as they all gazed at the tree.
Then their daughter broke free again. “Stockings! We have to hang the stockings. And put out the milk and cookies.” She ran toward the kitchen, then paused to look back. “Santa knows we’re here to stay, right?”
Wade hugged Miriam closer. “I made very sure he knows that.”
They all made quick work of getting the stockings hung, and then Miriam and Wade tucked Jessica in. Their daughter figured that the sooner she went to sleep, the sooner she’d wake up to Christmas, and they were happy to encourage that belief.
Once they were back downstairs, they let the puppy out to do her business, then got her settled in the kitchen, filled the stockings, and tucked wrapped gifts under the tree. Miriam put on the Willie Nelson Christmas tape and turned off the lamp, so that only the fireplace and tree lights illuminated the room. Wade poured them both glasses of eggnog and added a hefty splash of brandy. Shunning the couch, they settled on the rug in front of the fire.
Miriam tasted the eggnog, and it took her back to the previous Christmas, at her parents’ house. She touched her tummy and said, “Last year, I didn’t drink Mom’s eggnog because of the baby.” She glanced at the red stockings hanging on the mantel. “There were supposed to be four stockings.”
He rested his hand, that strong, calloused, yet gentle hand, on top of hers. “I know, honey. I miss him so much.”
“Me, too.”
They were silent a moment, and then he said, “The year sure didn’t turn out the way we thought it would.”
“No. But we’ve come out stronger, sweetheart.”
He linked fingers with her. “Very true. You and me, Miriam. Now and forever.”
She smiled, remembering how he’d said those words to her when they danced at their wedding. They meant even more now. Their bond had been tested by fire.
Though they were both working hard, somehow it didn’t seem like a burden now that they had a plan and clear goals. Dealing with the animals and owners at the vet clinic actually invigorated her, as did having regular lunches with her girlfriends. She’d finally mastered QuickBooks, and whipping the ranch’s books into shape gave her a huge sense of accomplishment.
Her grief and depression hadn’t entirely gone, but she’d found a support group and Wade attended now and then, too. But what helped her most of all was a sense of true partnership and intimacy with her husband. They could talk finances, help Jessica with her foal, and chuckle over Evan’s latest word of the day. They could play with the puppy, share worries, shed a tear for their lost baby, and turn to each other in bed.
Earlier, when they’d been admiring the tree, she’d thought of something she wanted to tell him once they were alone. “Remember our wedding night?”
He winked. “Very well.”
She chuckled. “Not that part. Though I’m glad you do remember that part. But when we were dancing in the town square, we were talking about how we’d love each other over the years. Then, I didn’t think I could possibly love y
ou any more than I did at that moment.”
He tilted his head, his beautiful eyes glowing in the firelight. “And now?”
“I know you on a deeper level. There’s so much more to you than I ever realized.”
“Some not so great stuff,” he said wryly.
“You’re human, just like I am. And you’re an amazing person. You’re my lover, my partner, my love. My past, present, and future. I love you so very much. And you still make my heart skip. You always will.”
“Aw hell, Miriam,” he said roughly. “Keep that up and you’re going to make this tough old rancher cry.”
That wasn’t what she wanted, only to let him know how deeply she cared. So she teased, “Can’t have that. Let’s move on to later on our wedding night, when we were in the bridal suite at the inn.”
“I remember. . . .” His eyes danced. “Let’s see. I was with the most beautiful, sexiest woman in the world.” He leaned over to reach under the tree, and pulled out a small package. “Speaking of which, here’s your first Christmas present.”
She studied those dancing eyes and grinned. “I take it this isn’t for Jessica’s eyes?”
“Uh-uh.”
Eagerly, Miriam tore off the paper. Like last year, it was a box from the classy lingerie store in town. But when she opened it, it wasn’t another negligee. She held up an abbreviated black lace bra and matching thong. “Wow.” Amazing that after all she’d put him through this past year, he still thought she was a sexy babe.
“There’s a note,” he pointed out.
She unfolded the gift card to read his messy scrawl: Once a month, wear these under your regular clothes—and tell me you’ve done it. All my love, Wade.
She grinned. “Why Wade Bly, you kinky man, you. What do I get if I do?” Then she had an idea. “No, wait, don’t tell me.”
She grabbed the box and hurried to the downstairs half bath.
Less than five minutes later, she emerged, knowing she looked just the same as when she’d gone in, except for the flush on her cheeks. “I’m wearing them.” She pirouetted in her jeans and flannel shirt.
He sat up, all attention. “Do they fit?”
“See for yourself.” She raised the hem of the shirt and gave him a flash of lace-clad breasts.
“Oh, man, Santa’s come early this year. Come here, wife.”
As she went to her husband, she remembered something else from their wedding night. The song her father had chosen for them: “We’ve Only Just Begun.”
It had never been more true.
Jessica and Evan’s story continues in Susan Fox’s
HOME ON THE RANGE
A Caribou Crossing Romance
A Zebra mass-market paperback and eBook
on sale in August 2013.
Turn the page to begin!
Chapter 1
“You’re out of your frigging mind! You want me to go to a dude ranch?” Evan Kincaid glared across the table at the man who had, until two minutes earlier, been his favorite client.
“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Gianni Vitale, a stocky, middle-aged man, flung out a hand in an extravagant gesture that encompassed the restaurant. Evan’s gaze followed the hand. At one o’clock on a Thursday, Gramercy Tavern was filled with well-dressed people: businessmen like themselves, shoppers pausing for a break, and tourists gawking at the Robert Kushner murals and elegant décor.
The atmosphere was laden with garlic and gossip, and not a single person was staring at them. Why would they? Two typical Manhattan businessmen in suits and ties?
Evan turned back to Gianni and glared again. “I am not making a scene. And no way in hell am I going to a dude ranch.”
“You’re not listening. The Crazy Horse isn’t a working ranch, it’s a resort ranch. You won’t have to play cowboy.”
A ranch was a ranch. “I won’t have to play anything because I’m not going.”
Gianni blew out air. “You’re worse than I was when Elena told me where she’d booked our holiday. But trust me, it’s great. You ride every day and you learn a lot about horses.”
“Ride? No way.” As a boy, growing up in Hicksville, he’d sworn no power in the world would get him up on a horse, and he’d stuck to that vow.
“There’s also a wonderful spa. The facilities and staff are first rate.” Gianni lowered his voice. “The food’s even better than here. You’ll have the time of your life. It’s quite upscale. Upscale rustic.” He took a sip of his dry martini.
“Upscale rustic?” Evan echoed disbelievingly. “Gianni, you don’t have a hope in hell of persuading me.” His client didn’t know Evan had grown up in ranch country and hated it.
Gianni leaned forward, both elbows on the table, and did some glaring of his own. “Evan, you’ve been my investment counselor for five years. When Addison & Carruthers first assigned you to me, I protested—”
Evan’s brows rose. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s true. But Winston Addison told me you were a rising star, and said your style would suit me. It did. Three years ago, when you left A&C to set up your own business, I was your first client.”
It was true. When Evan’s style had diverged too far from A&C’s traditional one, he’d come to an amicable agreement with the partners. An agreement that allowed him to take a few clients with him in exchange for referring appropriate clients to A&C in the future. “I haven’t lost my memory.”
“You need reminding. I brought you millions of dollars of my own business and added more than a dozen clients to your list.”
“And I’ve done very well for you and your colleagues, despite the recession. You’ve gotten your money’s worth, and then some.” Still, a sense of obligation niggled at Evan’s conscience. There weren’t many billionaires who would have left the security of an established firm like A&C to risk their fortune with an upstart, especially in a shaky economy.
Gianni leaned even closer. “I like to think we have become more than client and counselor. Are we not friends?”
Trust Gianni to play that card. “You’re breaking my heart.” Evan knew his words lacked conviction. Gianni wasn’t exactly a buddy, but their relationship was more than a strictly business one. And that was rare for Evan. Although he’d outgrown his childhood awkwardness, sociability still didn’t come easily. Besides, there was little time for developing friendships when you were on a fast track to the peak of the business world. But who needed friends? He’d had one once, and look how that had ended up.
“And you will break my heart, Evan, if you don’t give this opportunity a fair appraisal.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t appraise it. Just not on-site. Have this wrangler person e-mail me her financial analysis, her business plan, her projections, and I’ll give them full consideration. Though I have to say, I’m surprised. This is hardly your normal type of investment. What did you call it again? No-frills riding? What does that mean?”
“There are dude ranches where guests play cowboy, and resort ranches like the Crazy Horse, where Elena and I went. TJ Cousins wants to open a riding camp that focuses completely on horses and Western riding, with no distractions. Riding lessons every day, trail rides, horse care, communication with horses, and—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Evan broke in as an image sprang into his mind. A girl with chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail sitting across from him in the high school cafeteria. Jess Bly. Animated, lunch forgotten, telling him her latest horse-crazy dream.
As always when he thought of Jess, he felt a flood of conflicting emotions. Predominant was a sense of loss. He felt that poignant emotion every time something major happened in his life and his first instinct—bizarrely—was to tell a girl he hadn’t seen in ten years.
Annoyance with himself and his client put an edge in his voice. “God, Gianni, this reminds me of a girl I knew when I was growing up. She and your TJ Cousins sound like two peas from the same pod. And let me tell you, the pod might well have come from outer space.”
&nb
sp; It wasn’t fair to tar the unknown TJ with a Jess Bly brush, but this no-frills horse stuff sounded like just the kind of kooky scheme his old pal would have dreamed up. Jess had been the sweetest, kindest girl—any happiness he’d experienced in his childhood was due to her—but she’d definitely not been the most practical person.
When she was eight, she’d wanted to breed racehorses, ride them herself, and win the Triple Crown. She’d just read National Velvet. When she was ten, it was a riding school that would make its students learn both English and Western style. When she was twelve—
Oh, what did it matter? Jess Bly was a part of his past. A part he tried not to think about. He had messed up badly, in so many ways. And paid the price, all these years. He’d lost his best friend. True, he hadn’t deserved forgiveness after acting like such a shit, but all the same he’d have thought those years of childhood friendship would count for more than a cool e-mail dismissal from seventeen-year-old Jess. She’d said they should make a clean break, forget the past.
Forget? He wondered if Jess had managed to do that. For him, though he rarely thought of Caribou Crossing or his parents, it had proved impossible to forget Jess.
Gianni reached across the table and snapped his fingers, demanding Evan’s attention. “I didn’t write out a check; I came to you. The ideas are exciting, the woman is impressive, and I need you to tell me if it’s a realistic investment. I don’t need a huge return, but I want a reasonable prospect of success.”
Putting aside his guilt trip down memory lane, Evan focused on his client. “How much money are you talking?”
“Investing between three and four million, I’d guess. She already has the property. We’d want to get things started with a few cabins, a lodge, a training ring, and of course great horses. It would expand from there. Also, TJ’s idea is to have a sliding scale on the pricing, basically so guests pay what they can afford.”