“You’re so beautiful,” Faron said. “So exquisite.”
Belinda had never felt so loved, so cared for, so much the object of a man’s desire. She ran her hands across his broad shoulders, feeling the play of muscle and sinew. Then her hands slipped up his back and tunneled into his hair. She urged his head down until their mouths met.
It was a kiss of longing. Of belonging. Her to him. Him to her. It was more than sex. It always had been. It always would be. Something magical, something mystical happened between them when their bodies merged. Their souls meshed, as well.
When at last they lay sated in each other’s arms, Belinda didn’t feel grateful to Faron for proving her wrong about needing him. She hated him for being right. Because she was afraid to take another chance. The consequences of her relationship with Faron’s father were too devastating ever to forget.
She sat up with her back to Faron and began putting her clothes on. “This doesn’t change anything.”
Faron sat up, but made no move to touch her. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to let myself get involved with you.”
“You already are involved!” Faron retorted. “You can’t pretend nothing just happened between us.”
“It was just sex.”
“Like hell it was!” Faron was angry. Even though he knew why Belinda was shoving him away, it didn’t make the rejection any less painful. He stood and slipped on his shorts, then yanked on his jeans. “I know you had a tough time with my father, but I thought we’d settled all that.”
“I can’t take the chance you’ll turn out to be like him,” Belinda said in a quiet voice.
“I’m not—”
“You’re an especially bad risk, Faron. After all, like father, like son.”
Belinda could see Faron was furious. She waited for a blow that never came. Instead, he sat back down, pulled on his socks and boots, then stood and retrieved his shirt without saying another word.
He wasn’t like his father. She knew it. And he knew it. Yet he didn’t argue with her. When he was finished dressing he turned to her and said, “I’ll walk you back to the house.”
“I don’t need—”
“Don’t argue with me, Princess.”
She didn’t. She stuffed her nylons and garter belt into the pocket of her denim skirt, stuck her bare feet into her shoes and headed back toward the house.
The house was dark when they returned. Apparently both adults and children had welcomed the day’s end. Belinda began to think she might escape to her bedroom without any further confrontation with Faron. She almost did.
At the top of the stairs Faron caught her hand and drew her toward him.
“It was beautiful, Princess. What happened between us was beautiful. I don’t know what my father did to you. I don’t even want to try to imagine what it must have been like living with him. But I don’t intend to let what happened between the two of you interfere with our relationship.”
“But—”
He put his fingertips to her lips. “All men aren’t like my father. Not even his son. Especially not his son.”
He let her go, and she disappeared into her bedroom. A moment later Faron found himself facing Belinda’s sister, Fiona. Faron held his breath, waiting for whatever she had to say.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was looking for Tut.” The Abyssinian curled himself around her bare ankles and purred. “I think maybe you’ll do for Belinda. I think maybe you’ll do just fine.”
Faron smiled grimly. “All I have to do now is convince your sister of that.”
“You’ll manage. Be patient. All it’ll take is a little time.” She leaned down and picked up the cat, then closed the door, shutting Faron out.
Faron stared down the hall at Belinda’s closed door. He didn’t have as much time as Fiona seemed to think. With the progress he was making turning the ranch into a showplace, they were bound to find a buyer soon. Once they sold the ranch, he would head back to Texas.
If he didn’t get matters resolved with Belinda, he was likely to end up making the trip alone.
Faron clenched his fists in determination.
He would be damned if he’d leave her behind.
CHAPTER SIX
BELINDA MANAGED TO AVOID FARON until her sisters left. She knew he was giving her space. Fiona had told her so—and a lot more besides—while they were sitting at the Casper airport. Dori’s and Tillie’s flights had already come and gone. She was waiting for Fiona’s plane to depart.
“You can’t judge every man by your husband,” Fiona had said.
“What other gauge would you suggest I use?” Belinda demanded.
“Your heart.”
“I don’t have one.”
Fiona laughed. “Don’t you wish! You’ve got one all right. Maybe a little bruised and battered, but it’s in there beating away. And if what I suspect is true, beating a whole lot faster whenever a certain cowboy is around.”
Belinda was helpless to control the flush that rose on her cheeks. “All right, so I’m attracted to Faron Whitelaw. He’s a handsome man.”
“And charming.”
“And charming. But he’s also my stepson.”
“A fact that makes absolutely no difference.”
“How can you say that?”
“It might be different if Faron had grown up at King’s Castle, if you had stood in the role of stepmother and he had been your stepson. But that wasn’t the case.
“You know what I think, Belinda? I think the fact Faron is technically your stepson is just an excuse.”
Belinda laughed nervously. “An excuse for what?”
“An excuse not to fall in love with him. Which you already half are, if I’m not mistaken.”
That nervous laugh escaped again. Belinda lowered her eyelids to hide her expressive eyes, but Fiona exercised the prerogative of younger sisters the world over to ignore her elder sister’s tender sensibilities.
“Look,” Fiona said. “I say you ought to go for it.”
Belinda gasped. “Go for it? What kind of thing is that to urge your sister to do?”
“Look, you like the guy, right?”
Fiona didn’t wait for Belinda to respond.
“And he likes you.”
Again Fiona didn’t wait for Belinda to respond.
“So go for it. Give the relationship a chance. Get to know Faron. Let yourself fall in love—I mean, if that’s what happens.”
“And if nothing happens?”
“Then you’re no worse off than you were before,” Fiona said philosophically.
Fiona’s flight was called. She rose and hugged Belinda, then picked up the cat carrier that held Tut. “Be happy, Belinda. You deserve it. Call me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Belinda waved as Fiona turned and smiled over her shoulder. Before Fiona even got to the door, she had met a man traveling on the same flight. Belinda shook her head in disbelief at her sister’s easy way with men as she turned and headed for the parking lot. But she used the drive back from Casper to think about Fiona’s advice.
Be happy, Belinda. You deserve it.
It was wonderful advice, actually. If only Belinda knew what would make her happy, she would do it. The problem was, Belinda had no idea what she wanted. She had been honest with Faron the day she had met him. She hadn’t ever allowed herself to dream. Right after her parents were buried, she had needed to work to support her sisters. After she had married Wayne, whatever hopes she’d harbored had died a sure, if not precisely sudden, death.
So what would make her happy?
A husband who loved her. A houseful of children, with Madelyn nearby, a doting grandmother.
It was all so very simple. The Princess would just fall in love with the Cowboy and live happily ever after.
But as Belinda drove up to The Castle, the old fears rose up before her. How could she be sure things would turn out happily ever after? Was she willing to take the risk of loving
Faron? They had been forced by circumstance into each other’s company. What if the ranch sold in the next few weeks? Would he leave her behind and return to Texas without another thought of her?
Belinda found Faron sitting in one of the rockers on the stone terrace along the side of the house with Madelyn sitting in the rocker beside him. The sun was just setting, and in the fading light Belinda saw that Madelyn’s head was thrown back and she was laughing. Belinda wanted to be a part of that picture.
When she stopped the pickup, Faron bounded down from the terrace, pulled open the door and practically dragged her out.
“Come on and join us,” he said. “We’re having a glass of tea and exchanging war stories.”
“War stories?” Belinda felt the strength in Faron’s hand as he gripped her fingers and tugged her along behind him.
And yet she knew how gentle he could be. Surely he wasn’t like his father. Surely…
Faron seated her in the rocker where he had been sitting and settled himself on the flagstone terrace cross-legged facing her. “I just finished my war story,” he said. “It’s Maddy’s turn.”
“What kind of war story?” Belinda persisted.
“Be still and listen, girl, and you’ll find out soon enough,” Madelyn chided with a twinkle in her eye. “Now, let’s see. It must have been ’42, or maybe it was ’43. Everyone contributed what he or she could to the War Effort. I did my part. I danced for the USO.”
“I didn’t know there was a USO in Casper,” Belinda said.
“Hush, girl,” Madelyn said. “This is my story.” She leaned back in the rocker and set it in motion with the toe of her shoe.
“His name was Tommy Neville. He had the bluest eyes and the blackest hair I’d ever seen. We met at the USO. He was a navy flier headed to California, scheduled to ship out to the Pacific. It was his last night at home. He said he wanted to hold an American girl in his arms one last time, and feel the touch of her lips on his—because he might not be coming home.”
“What a line!” Faron interjected. “So did you kiss him?”
“What kind of war stories are these?” Belinda asked suspiciously.
“Hush, dear, and let me finish,” Maddy reproved. “Of course I kissed him,” she said with a girlish grin. “What kind of patriot would I have been if I’d let a soldier go off to war without a goodbye kiss?”
Faron clapped his hands. “Good for you, Maddy. Your turn, Belinda.”
“My turn for what?”
“We’re telling romantic war stories,” Maddy explained. “Your turn.”
“I…I wasn’t dating anyone during a war.”
Faron and Maddy exchanged disbelieving looks and then burst out laughing.
“She can’t be that naive, can she?” Faron asked Maddy.
“I wouldn’t have said so, but maybe she is. Perhaps you’d better explain it to her.”
“We’re telling ‘war’ stories about our previous love affairs,” Faron said.
“You’re exchanging romantic escapades with your grandmother?” Belinda asked incredulously. “Whose idea was this?”
“Mine,” Madelyn said.
That took the wind out of Belinda’s sails.
“So, are you going to play or not?” Madelyn asked.
“I’m not!”
“Chicken!” Faron taunted.
“Coward!” Madelyn accused.
“All right!” Belinda retorted. “You asked for it. You’re going to get it!”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Faron said, settling back against the short stone wall that edged the terrace.
“Me, either,” Madelyn said with a chuckle.
“He had the biggest, brownest eyes you ever saw.”
“You like brown eyes?” Faron asked with a frown.
“Shut up and listen,” Belinda said. “And he had curly red hair.”
“So tell us about the date,” Faron urged.
“We spent the whole night together,” Belinda said.
Faron’s eyes narrowed. “The whole night? Who the hell was this guy?”
“His name was Whitey.”
“What kind of name is that for a redheaded man?” Faron asked disgustedly.
“It’s a terrible name for a man,” Belinda agreed. “But a great name for a Hereford steer.”
“A steer?”
Belinda saw the moment when recognition—and relief—dawned on Faron’s face.
Madelyn joined Faron’s laughter. “I guess she showed us.”
Belinda was glad they believed she had told her story as a joke. Because the truth was, there weren’t any other men in her life. Not that she was embarrassed to admit to her lack of experience. No wonder she was afraid to take a chance on romantic love. Having never felt the emotion, she wasn’t sure she would recognize it if it bit her on the nose.
“I’m going in to see if Rue needs any help,” Madelyn said.
Faron jumped up to help his grandmother out of the rocker.
“You’d think I was an old lady,” she muttered.
“No, just a lady,” Faron said with a gentle smile.
Madelyn shot a look at Belinda as though to say, “You’re a fool if you don’t grab him!”
When Madelyn was gone, Faron took her seat and set the rocker in motion. Belinda joined him rocking, and the only sound for a while was the creak of the wooden rockers and the occasional lowing of cattle.
“Did you have a nice drive back from Casper?”
“Yes.”
“I like your sisters.”
“They are nice, aren’t they?”
“Was the sacrifice worth it?”
Belinda sighed. “It was a foolish thing to do. Everything turned out better than I had a right to expect.”
“Meaning your sisters ended up happy, even if you didn’t.”
Belinda didn’t bother to respond because Faron hadn’t been asking a question, he had been making a statement. The two of them rocked quietly, each caught up in his own thoughts.
Faron’s sister Tate had called while Belinda was at the airport. It had been one of the most difficult conversations of Faron’s life.
“I called Hawk’s Way looking for you,” Tate began, “because Adam and I want you to be our son’s godfather. Garth said you’d gone to Wyoming, but he wouldn’t tell me why. He just gave me this number and said you’d answer my questions. So what are you doing in Wyoming, Faron?”
Faron felt a lump in his throat. This is what it meant to be a part of the Whitelaw family. Caring. Concern. Curiosity. But he didn’t have the right to play the role she wanted to cast him in without confessing the truth first. “Tate, I—”
She was too impatient to allow him to get a word in edgewise. “Spill the beans, big brother. What’s going on up there? I’m guessing there’s a woman involved. Am I right?”
Tate had been talking virtually without taking a breath, so when she finally stopped, the silence was awesome.
“Faron? Is something wrong? Talk to me.”
Faron realized Garth had left it up to him to decide whether to tell the rest of the family the truth about his birth. For a moment he thought about making up some kind of story to hide what their mother had done. But Tate was a mother herself now. She was no longer a child who had to be protected from the facts of life.
“I’m here in Wyoming to meet my stepmother.”
There was an absurdly long silence on the other end of the line.
“Is this some kind of joke, Faron? I don’t understand.”
Faron heard Tate’s confusion, her anger and her fear. He shoved his free hand through his hair. “It’s no joke, Tate. Mother had an affair before you were born. I was the result. My real father left me half his ranch in Wyoming. I came up here to…to see this place.”
“Am I…?”
“You’re legitimate, as far as I know,” Faron reassured her. “I guess Mom and Dad got back together after her affair.”
“I’m so sorry, Faron.”
F
aron swallowed over the lump in his throat. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to be godfather to—”
“Oh, no! Please, Faron. You have to be the baby’s godfather. It’s what Adam and I both want. This other…thing…doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’re still my brother, and I love you dearly.”
Faron’s eyes burned with tears. He wanted to tell Tate how much her love meant to him but he couldn’t get the words past his constricted throat.
“Faron? Are you there?”
At last he managed, “I’m here, Tate.”
“Well, will you do it? Will you be Brett’s godfather?”
“I’d be proud and pleased to be godfather to your son.”
He heard a sigh of relief on the other end of the line.
“Everybody’s coming to Hawk’s Way over Labor Day. That’s not a problem for you, is it? Because if it is, we can change the day. We need you there.”
“I can make it. I might bring a couple of people along.”
“So there is a girl involved!”
Faron grinned. “Maybe.”
“I can’t wait to meet her. What’s she like?”
“Goodbye, Tate.”
“Goodbye, Faron. And thanks again. I love you. See you at Hawk’s Way. Oh. Wait. Does Jesse know?”
“I haven’t said anything to him.”
“Do you want me to tell him?”
Faron thought how easy it would be to say yes. “No. I’ll call him. Goodbye, Tate.”
“Goodbye.”
Faron hadn’t waited to make the call to Jesse. It seemed better to get it over with right away. Jesse was considerably more philosophical than Faron had expected him to be.
“I’m not surprised,” Jesse had said.
“You’re not?”
“I’m older than you. I guess I saw more than you did as a child. Mom and Dad…there were some arguments, some hard words. It went on for about a year. Then it suddenly stopped. That must have been when she was having the affair. Their marriage seemed stronger after that.”
Faron Page 7