The Price of Passion

by Stephanie Morris

  He didn’t respond.

  “Is it true?”

  “Could be.”

  “So why did you come home?”

  “My mother’s health was failing.”

  Lifting her head, Sierra stared at him. From the faint light inside the room, as well as the moon’s radiance, she saw shadows deep within his eyes.

  “Andy called me in Redfield, told me Mom was alone.”

  “After all you’d been through, you came back to take care of her?”

  “She was my mother.”

  “Easy as that?”

  “Easy as that.”

  * * * *

  For him, it was.

  He’d spent his entire childhood and the first part of his adult life telling himself no one mattered. But in that moment—when the phone rang and Andy informed him that his mother was alone and dying—Kaden had known the truth. Everything he’d run from caught up with him in that instant.

  The same blood that coursed through his veins also ran through his mother’s. She’d given him life. She was the only family he had, and she was important. No matter how far he ran, how deep he buried the past, he couldn’t change who he was.

  He’d never intended to tell Sierra any of this, figuring it was no one else’s business. But there was something about the way she looked at him, her lips slightly parted, her hand extended toward him on top of the water.

  It was her eyes that melted the rest of his resistance. The green flares in the hazel depths told him he’d touched something inside her. She cared about him. It had been more years than he could recall since he’d experienced a woman’s tenderness for him. Why she did, he didn’t have the slightest. But he found himself opening up, revealing the deepest, darkest secrets he’d never even told Leah. “I’ve been drunk three times in my life. The first was the day I left home, the second the day I came back.”

  Sierra reached for him. Sliding closer, she rested her small hand on his chest, near where his heart raced.

  No woman had ever touched him with such compassion before, and it kicked up a response that was way more than physical. It shocked him to the core, coming from a place so deep it might have actually been in his soul.

  “I was sixteen when I left, sick of the rank smell of stale sex and the sound of my mother’s headboard slamming up against the wall. That day, a man—one I’d never seen before—came out of my mom’s room, must have been around dinner time. He didn’t have on a stitch of clothing and he was scratching himself and demanding to know why I was there.”

  He paused to collect himself. “Mom came out of the bedroom, putting on some clothes. We looked at each other, and I saw she was going to choose that asshole over me, like she had when I was a kid.” He shook his head. “I snatched up a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey and left. Mom didn’t try to stop me, even though she had to have seen the tears I was struggling to hold back—trying to be a man.”

  “You were just a teenager.”

  “True, but I thought I was grown up, though.”

  A bird screeched overhead, diving from a tree.

  “I drove around for a long time, at least a few hours or so. Somehow, I ended up at Andy’s home. His dad threw me in the shower. His mom fixed me something to eat. Most of all, they took me in. They forced me to go to school and to church, made me do chores. The more I resisted, the more they requested I do.”

  “Kaden—”

  “It was the first time I recall anyone having the slightest concern about me and what I did all day. I said I didn’t want them to, but I did. It was the first time in my life I saw what love looked like. If it hadn’t been for the three years I spent there, I don’t think I’d have believed love existed.”

  Even now, he wondered if it was only meant for other people. The first woman he’d offered his heart to had trampled on it and taken away the baby he would have given anything for. He knew one thing for certain, that sure as hell wasn’t love.

  “Norman Dunn taught me about ranching, about the land. When I graduated, Ruth Dunn was in the stands, but my own mother wasn’t.”

  Kaden wrapped his hand around Sierra’s wrist, holding onto her and the empathy that she radiated. “I went to Redfield, got hired on at a ranch and worked my way up to foreman. What Norman didn’t teach me, I learned it in South Dakota.”

  “Then your mom became ill.”

  For years, this had been buried deep down, dormant but not forgotten. “Yes. She was still in the same shack, a rundown piece of trash. I purchased a few acres with the money I’d saved, purchased a small house, and moved my mother in with me.”

  “The same home you have now?”

  “It was a lot smaller back then. Colby helped me add the second story. In the eight months before she died, I got to know my mother.” His lip curled. “Lived with her for sixteen years and never knew her.”

  “Did you forgive her?”

  He met Sierra’s stare head on. “I understood her.”

  “Yes, but did you forgive her?”

  “No. I’m low on forgiveness. But the land helped us both to heal. She’d sit on the porch and look off into the distance, said she’d never had a view like that before. And for the first time, no one expected anything from her. She had a hard life, but she told me the last few months were the best. I guess we both found peace.”

  “She must have been proud of the man you became.”

  He arched a brow in her direction.

  “I would have been,” Sierra continued.

  A vise clenched around his heart. “Would you?”

  “Of course. You discovered what was important, you work hard, have decency and lots of respectfulness.”

  “Even if I’m low on forgiveness?”

  “I don’t buy that, Kaden.”

  His hold on her tightened.

  She shook her head, and the steam rising from the tub made her curls cling to her cheeks. “If our child is half the person you are, I’ll be proud, too.”

  Her words meant more to him than he could ever possibly hope to convey. They filled a hole in him he hadn’t known existed.

  He kissed her, long and deep, trying to express what he felt and knowing it didn’t come close. But it was all he had to give.

  He prayed it was enough.

  * * * *

  Sierra gradually awoke, aware of Kaden’s arms embracing her tightly, even in sleep. Her hair fanned across his bare chest, and his hand was spread across her back, is fingers resting against her spine.

  He’d made love to her twice before they fell asleep—and he’d said he liked numbers thirty-five and sixty-nine equally.

  She grinned. She liked both of them, too.

  Shimmering moonlight slid through the glass patio door, and the lamination from the clock said it was still a few hours until sunrise.

  Underneath her ear, the rhythm of his breathing changed.

  “You should be asleep,” he whispered.

  “Is there anything you don’t miss?”

  “Not when it comes to you.”

  She was starting to believe it, starting to enjoy it.

  “Come here,” he commanded, arranging them both until her head lay cradled in the nook of his arm.

  She already knew he jeopardized her control, but right now, that didn’t seem to matter. Tonight, this instant, she wanted his comfort. Tomorrow was soon enough to stress over him being too possessive.

  He wrapped an arm around her, his fingers playing with her hair.

  “Kaden?”

  “Yes?”

  “You said you had been intoxicated three times in your life.” Would he tell her?

  “The third time was when my divorce was final and the judge rejected my request for visitations rights to see Jacob.”

  His hurt, unveiled and strong, tore through her like an open wound.

  “Until then, I didn’t believe I’d never hold him again.”

  Knowing him as she did now, Sierra ached. With his truthfulness, the way he loved Leah and car
ed for his ill mother, he’d started to work his way inside Sierra’s heart. And she had no idea what to do about it.

  “Go back to sleep,” he eventually told her.

  After placing a kiss on his firm chest, she finally did, wondering how she’d keep from falling in love with him. Leaving Tim had been hard, but he’d never affected her as potently as Kaden did.

  * * * *

  Sierra dressed without turning on any lights, pulling on a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt. She moved around the room on tip-toe, easing the bathroom door closed and running only a small amount of water.

  Not enough noise to wake him, she probably thought. But she had. Kaden lay without moving. He wondered what she was doing, but decided to say nothing.

  Without even looking in his direction, she snuck from the room, the door closing with a barely audible click.

  His stomach tightened.

  Without intending to, he thought of Leah, the way she’d acted, telling him one thing, doing another, spending the night away from home without calling.

  But Sierra isn’t Leah.

  He knew that, but that didn’t make her leaving him without a word or a note any easier to deal with. Anxiety ate at him. He got out of bed, showered, and dressed. He killed almost an hour, and she still wasn’t back.

  Kaden paced the room, remembering the sounds of her sighs, the scent of her, sweet and tempting, topped by an innocently floral fragrance.

  She was getting to him.

  He cared about her, cared where she was and what she was doing. Damn it, he wanted her here, with him. He wanted to show her the affection he couldn’t bring himself to speak into existence; he ached to hold her, touch her, explore her.

  A key slid into the lock.

  He forced himself to sit at the table and look at ease.

  Realizing he was tapping his fingers on the table, he curled his hand into a fist and held it still.

  Closing the door and playing a balancing act, she grinned. “Good morning,” she said softly.

  Panic, something he hadn’t realized he’d been feeling, disappeared.

  “I wanted to do a little shopping,” she said.

  “I’d have gone with you.”

  “I know, but I needed to do this alone.”

  “Oh.”

  She made her way across the room, holding her hands behind her back. “I brought you something,” she said, leaning down to brush her lips across his cheek. “A wedding gift. I wanted to give you something, too.”

  “You’re all I want.” He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her soundly.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “Now wait, I want to give you this.”

  She wiggled out of his lap and took a box from the bag. It was wrapped in Christmas paper depicting penguins and snow, and even had blue and silver ribbons, accented with a red bow.

  It had been several years since he’d received a Christmas present.

  Frustrating him to Florida and back, his hand trembled as he slid a finger beneath the tape.

  “Tear it open,” she instructed.

  Inside, he found a toy Santa Claus.

  “I spotted it in the gift shop on the way in. The sales clerk said it was left over from their Christmas in July. Do you like it?”

  “It’s...” How did he say thanks for something that meant more than words could express? How did he apologize for not trusting her? “Perfect...” he whispered.

  “I got him because you said you stopped believing in Santa Claus. I figured now that we’ll be having a real Christmas this year, maybe you could believe again.”

  He released a shaky, pent up breath. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “I was hoping maybe you’d show me?”

  He could think of nothing he’d like better.

  * * * *

  “Will you move into my bedroom?” he asked when they arrive back at the ranch.

  The honeymoon had been too short, but if it had been any longer, she knew she would have been prone to forget how hazardous he was. Mindful of her every need, he’d been a devoted groom, everything she’d ever dreamed of wanting in a husband.

  But that wasn’t reality.

  Several nights ago, he’d opened up, honestly showing her the pain he carried. And because she understood, knew what made him the man he was, she was defenseless to him twofold.

  And that was something she couldn’t let happen. She’d been hurt, too, and needed to guard herself against him. The past had taught her she was the only person she could depend on. She’d sworn to never forget it.

  He came around the SUV and opened her door. “Sierra?”

  His legs were spread to shoulder width and his arms were folded across his chest.

  She wished she could disappear into the seat. Instead, she unfastened her seat belt and climbed out of the vehicle, making him take a step back.

  “I’ll move into your bedroom, Kaden, but only because it will be less complicated for our child that way.”

  A few of the ranch hands had stopped working. Relaxing against the rail of the corral, they observed the exchange with extreme curiosity.

  Kaden didn’t seem to care.

  That was, until he removed his hat and, blocking her from their view, kissed her passionately. After ending the kiss, he murmured, “I really need to get inside you. It’s been more than a few hours.”

  Disoriented, she didn’t argue when he slid his arms beneath her legs and swept her up into his arms, kicking the door to their room shut with his heel.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Where have you been?”

  Sierra put the bag of groceries onto the kitchen table. The song she was humming died off abruptly.

  After four weeks of marriage, she’d learned to recognize his stance.

  The throbbing pulse in his cheek pounded with his harnessed annoyance, and the bite of the harshness intertwined in his words.

  With a heavy sigh, she leaned against the refrigerator. She glanced at the picture of the sonogram of their child taped to the front of it. There was another on their bedside table and another copy in Kaden’s wallet. Both of them had agreed not to learn the sex of their baby. They wanted it to be a surprise.

  What wasn’t a surprise was the fact that Kaden now stood across the room from her, ticked off.

  “To town,” she said needlessly. “Shopping. I was purchasing stuff for dinner and getting things for the nursery.”

  He moved toward her slowly. His heat singed her, but she titled her head back, meeting his gaze. “We have employees that can tote groceries.”

  “I know.”

  Boot heels scraping the hardwood floor, he took another step. “That is, if it didn’t occur to you to ask your husband for assistance.”

  This close, she saw how hard Kaden struggled to rein in his anger. Hers sparked to match it. “I wasn’t aware of the fact that I had to answer to you for every more I make.”

  “You don’t.”

  Her eyebrows bunched together in confusion. “Then?”

  “I don’t want my pregnant wife lugging heavy bags around.”

  “It’s food, Kaden, not bricks.”

  “You could still ask for assistance.”

  “I attempted to find you before I left, and I couldn’t. I didn’t know where you were.”

  “And you couldn’t wait?”

  “No. Not if you expect dinner on the table at a reasonable hour.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Didn’t what?”

  “I will never demand that you have dinner on the table when I come in.”

  “You won’t?”

  “Sierra, damn it, you—the baby—that’s what’s important.” He ate up the rest of the space between them. “I’ve lived alone most of my adult life. I can cook, clean and even do laundry.” He took hold of her shoulders. “I didn’t marry you to wait on me hand and foot. Get this through your skull—I’m not Tim. You weren’t married to him. You were in a snare.”

 
“Is there a difference?” She hadn’t intended to ask the question out loud, but there it was.

  When she’d married Tim, she hadn’t realized he’d take the “obey” part so seriously. She’d loved him, wanted their relationship to work. Love hadn’t been enough.

  “I don’t want to dictate your life, Sierra, and you’re free to come and go as you please. This is a partnership, not a totalitarian relationship.” Kaden released a pent up breath, and his shoulders relaxed, as if his frustration dissipated. “When you leave, I want you to write a note, not because you have to answer to me, but because it’s a common courtesy. And I’ll leave you one when I go somewhere.”

  His grip on her lessened. “Don’t shut me out, Sierra. I won’t allow you to.”

  “You’re not being fair, Kaden. I wasn’t shutting you out. If you’d open your eyes, you’d see that. You have to trust me. In fact, I won’t accept anything less. Without it, this marriage is doomed.” After exhaling heavily, she said. “I’ll leave notes in the future, but it if slips my mind, you can’t make these sorts of assumptions again.” She paused, studying him for a few moments. “I don’t give myself to men easily. You of all people should know that.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn it, Sierra, I was concerned about you.”

  She sighed, seeing past her own reaction and looking into his eyes. Sierra saw hints of worry there. “This isn’t about trust?”

  “No. I was afraid that you might be at the doctor, that you might be injured.”

  “I was mistaken.”

  “Yes you were. Let me help you, Sierra. Let me be your partner, not some weasel of a man you’re comparing me to.”

  She reached out to cup his cheek in her hand, feeling the tension there. “I’m—”

  “Don’t apologize,” he interrupted gently. “Let me welcome you home properly.”

  He kissed her long and deep, leaving her wobbly. When had he become so important to her? If only he returned the feelings. But she didn’t dare reveal it, didn’t dare take the risk of loving a man who would never return the feelings. For her own sake, she should continue on the way there were. Until now, she hadn’t had any idea how hard that might be.