No One But You

by Leigh Greenwood

  He had been standing at the corral, staring vacantly out at the horses enjoying a late evening frolic before settling down for the night. He turned to see Sarah standing a short distance away, a mysterious smile playing across her lips.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I was lost in thought.”

  She moved a step closer. “Anything you want to share?”

  Salty’s throat closed. He was about as capable of communicating as one of the corral rails he was leaning against. Did he dare tell Sarah what he’d been thinking? Why not? If she wasn’t happy about it, she couldn’t throw him out any farther than he was right now. Besides, he was tired of Bones as a nighttime companion. He was tired of wanting to know what exactly she felt toward him.

  “I was thinking about us.”

  Framed in a halo of golden light cast by the sun that sank toward the far horizon, Sarah took another step closer. “In what way?”

  She had just put the pony squarely in his corral, so he decided to tell her the truth. “I was thinking that my feelings for you had changed, and I was wondering if yours had changed, too.”

  She stepped so close he could practically feel the heat of her. Maybe it was his own heat, or maybe he only imagined it—but he didn’t imagine the fire in her eyes. “How? How have your feelings changed?”

  There was no trace of disapproval in her tone, yet he felt he was about to take the biggest gamble of his life. “I promised to make you dislike me if I noticed a softening in your attitude. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

  “I’m glad,” she said.

  He breathed an inward sigh of relief.

  “Is that all?” she asked. She moved to the corral fence and looked up at him rather than at the horses. The heat of her presence was like a brush fire.

  “Before I say anything else, I need to know if your feelings for me are the same.”

  She hesitated. When she spoke, it sounded like a sigh. But her answer was, “Yes.”

  Yes? Damn. That’s what he got for listening to a seventeen-year-old kid’s advice about women. He and Dobie were just two frustrated men with so little to occupy their minds that they were indulging in fantasies of what they wished were true. Everything he’d seen in her eyes was a projection of his own desire.

  “Yes, I’m still attracted to you,” she said. “But now it’s a lot more than just physical.”

  He was silent, surprised.

  “Do you like more about me than my looks?” she asked. “Roger told me that’s the most important thing about a woman.”

  He thought she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Entranced by her nearness, he murmured, “A man appreciates beauty in all things, whether it’s his horse, spring flowers, or the woman he hopes to marry.”

  In the nearby pen the pig snorted.

  Sarah’s smile became one of amusement, and her eyes danced. “Hopes? We’re already married.” Was that an invitation, or merely a statement of fact?

  Salty shook his head. “I guess I wasn’t very clear. I see my horse as a valued partner in the work I have to do. I appreciate flowers for the lift they give my spirits. I look for all that and much more in a woman, especially if she’s my wife.”

  “How’s that?”

  He wasn’t sure what he was saying. He was rambling. He’d compared her to a horse! He wished Rose were here; he was sorely in need of advice. “I’ve never been married nor kept regular company with a woman, so my ideas about what I want are so vague I’m not sure I can put them into words.”

  She seemed unperturbed. “Except for being married to a man my father chose against my wishes, my experience hasn’t been that different from yours.”

  “You have two children and have managed a ranch for six years.”

  She shrugged. “You fought a war, watched people die, and lost everything you had—all without losing your basic decency, honesty, and love of life. And you have a wonderful ability to care deeply for others.”

  “It’s easy when others care about you.”

  “People don’t care about people who aren’t worthy,” she pointed out. “They might fear them or feel a duty toward them, but they don’t care about them the way you care about Jared and Ellen.”

  Why did he care so much for her children? Was it because it was natural for adults to care about children? Was it because they’d suffered misfortune with bravery and cheerfulness, and he wanted to somehow make their bad luck up to them? Did he care because they were Sarah’s children? It was all of that and more. They were people with different personalities and needs. They’d shouldered the responsibilities of adults yet still looked at the world with the openness of children. They’d accepted him without reservation and looked for reasons to be with him.

  He was distracted by the sound of the chickens squabbling over the best tree limbs as they searched for a place to roost for the night. That reminded him of the fun he’d had building the pen with the children’s help, of Ellen chasing down escaped chickens, of Jared’s relief that he no longer had to search through bramble patches for eggs. He hadn’t realized it until now, but he loved them. The two children had drawn him into their family, giving him the love and acceptance he’d never had. He’d have to be stone-hearted not to love them in return. His feelings for Sarah were like that, too, but with some very important differences.

  “I never knew what it was like for two people to truly love each other until I went to work for George Randolph,” he said. “Rose runs that family with an iron hand, and the others let her because they know she does it out of love. They’re such a strong-willed bunch, the boys can get into an argument over the shape of a cloud, but they’d each face the world alone to defend Rose. I didn’t know that kind of love was possible. It’s like a circle. Inside, everyone is allowed to be himself, no matter how obnoxious, but they all stand together to face the outside.” He paused. “I’m not saying it very well.”

  “I think you’re doing just fine.”

  He wasn’t. How could he describe what he’d never experienced? “I didn’t have brothers or sisters, and my family did its best to tear itself apart. I want the love that keeps the Randolphs together despite their differences.”

  “Jared and Ellen love you,” Sarah said.

  He nodded. “But they’re children. A man needs the love of a woman to make his life complete.”

  There was a brief pause. “Are you asking if I love you?”

  They’d stood close to each other for the last several minutes, but they hadn’t moved closer. Salty eyed the horses being swallowed by lengthening shadows, then the darkening sky. Now, when he needed to see her face, to be able to read her expression, he couldn’t. It was that awkward time between dusk and dark, when there was no longer any reflected light from the setting sun, when the sky was still too light for the moon to achieve its full brightness. Everything was shrouded in hazy shadow.

  The chickens had settled in for the night; the pig was quiet. The horses glided noiselessly through the gathering twilight. The breeze had died, leaving the dry grass stiff and motionless. He hadn’t intended to ask Sarah anything, but now, even if he was in danger of pushing for an answer too soon, he wanted to know. “No, but I won’t stop you if you want to tell me.”

  Sarah turned to face him, reached out to rest her hand on his forearm. “Until I married you, I thought all men were like my father and husband. I didn’t want to be with a man again because I had found it distasteful and humiliating. I was certain I could never care for any man enough to join my life with his.” She paused. “Do you care for me enough to help me change my mind?”

  Salty hadn’t expected a bald statement of her feelings, but her words were clear enough for him. He traced the outline of her jaw with the tip of his finger. “I don’t care what you think about other men. Just about me.”

  “I have no more experience with men than you do with women,” she expl
ained. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I don’t want you to say anything,” he replied. “I want you to show me how you feel.”

  “How?”

  “Like this.”

  Salty had nothing to guide him except his instincts and a powerful desire to take Sarah in his arms. Remembering Rose’s admonition not to be shy about letting a woman know how he felt, he reached for Sarah and pulled her into his embrace. He hoped she couldn’t tell that his heart was pounding in his chest and, brushing aside all worry, he kissed her. The effect was so powerful it nearly took his breath away. He had held women in his arms and kissed them, but it had never been anything like this. Before, it had been more like having a plan and systematically following through. This time he acted on impulse. His reward was a feeling that he’d never really been alive until now.

  What was he supposed to do next? Was one kiss enough? Should he stand back and wait for her to make the next move? He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, though he had no doubt about what he wanted to do, and that was to keep right on kissing her. He could never get enough of Sarah, because every little bit left him wanting more.

  Her mouth was soft, her lips sweet, her kiss firm. It took him a few moments to realize she was neither shy nor reluctant; she was kissing him back with an eagerness that matched his own. Rather than attempt to hold herself apart from him, she had pressed forward until their bodies were connected from chest to thigh. The effect on him was so rapid and pronounced he was certain she would pull away. Much to his surprise, she actually leaned closer, pressing herself against his hardness until he felt he would burst.

  It was hard to keep his mind on something as simple as a kiss when his body felt like it was on fire. He felt like he was losing control, even losing contact with reality. He was on sensory overload. Not even the heat of battle had affected him so forcefully.

  It took every bit of willpower to break the kiss and hold her at arm’s length, and she looked bewildered and hurt. “Did I do something wrong?”

  He could only shake his head. It was impossible to find words to describe her effect on him. George had never appeared to be rendered senseless when he kissed Rose, so why should it affect him this way? Was it because this was the first time he’d kissed Sarah? Because the situation was so unexpected?

  “Something is wrong,” she pressed.

  “No.” He managed to force his brain to focus. “I was just surprised. I’m not sure my heart can stand it.”

  Her smile was teasing. “I’ve seen you wrestle a steer to the ground.”

  “That was easy. The steer wasn’t kissing me.” Taking her hand, Salty turned her so they could both lean against the rails.

  Sarah’s laughter hung in the air like the sound of chimes in the wind. Funny how everything sounded and felt better after a kiss from the woman you loved. “That’s something I’d like to see.”

  Salty shivered at the unintentional image he’d created. “Not a chance. I much prefer kissing you.”

  “Then why aren’t you?”

  He didn’t waste time trying to answer. Pushing off from the rail, he wrapped her again in his embrace.

  Their second kiss didn’t affect him as powerfully, but he was able to enjoy it more for that very reason: he could explore the softness and sweetness of her mouth, revel in the sheer ecstasy of having the woman he loved welcome his kisses. He didn’t have to follow some protocol he didn’t understand, like he’d sometimes felt with other women. It wasn’t like a reward for good behavior; it didn’t seem that if he didn’t do it right he’d fail some test. All he had to do was kiss her.

  He loved embracing Sarah. It was a simple act, and yet he couldn’t explain why it felt so good to wrap his arms around her. He didn’t know whether it was feeling like she belonged to him or that she was giving herself to him; all he knew for sure was that he wanted to do it for the rest of his life.

  He thought of her as strong and independent, but Sarah felt small and fragile as he held her. In contrast, he felt big and powerful. He liked feeling that she’d turn to him when she needed a shoulder to lean on. He liked that she had surrendered her physical self to him. Yesterday he’d have said all of this was too much to surmise from a single embrace. Now he realized he’d been given only a glimpse of what love could make possible.

  “I’m still waiting for the answer to my question.”

  The intrusion of Sarah’s voice startled Salty. He’d been so caught up in the moment that he’d forgotten there was a question. There was no way out; he had to confess. “Uh, I’ve forgotten what you asked.”

  She laughed. “Then I guess I have my answer.”

  He was more and more lost. “Answer to what?”

  “I wanted to know if you cared enough about me to change my opinion about men.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care what you think about other men, just me.”

  “You already said that.”

  “Then what do you want to know?”

  “I want to know how you feel about me.”

  “Haven’t I shown you?”

  “You’ve shown me you want me, but that’s not what I’m asking.”

  He flushed. He didn’t have to be an experienced lover to know that showing Sarah he wanted her physically before he even said he liked her, much less that he loved her, was the perfect way to kill her affection before it had time to put down enough roots to take hold. It was time to put his cards on the table and to play out his hand.

  “Sarah, I don’t know if you want to hear this, but I’ve fallen in love with you. I liked you from the beginning. I knew you didn’t want that, but I wanted so badly to have the chance to own my own land that I thought I could deny my feelings and my attraction. If not deny them, control them. It wasn’t long before I realized I was wrong on both counts.”

  Evening had deepened, but the light of a full moon now flooded the corral. The fence rails looked like black ink across a silvery-gray background, the horses like weird splotches of color, their true shapes morphed by the shadows of trees. Heat radiating from the ground clashed with the cooling air above to create drafts that eddied about them like swirling water. In the moonlight, Sarah’s face took on a luminous quality that made everything about the evening seem surreal.

  “I knew I was attracted to you, too,” she said. “I was determined it would never be more than that…but you aren’t like other men.”

  “I’m pretty ordinary.”

  Sarah smiled in a way that did uncomfortable things to Salty’s stomach. “There’s nothing ordinary about you. You’re kind, generous, hardworking, straightforward, and honest. My children adore you, Arnie and Dobie respect you, and Rose Randolph made it clear she thought you were the best cowhand on the place.”

  It was nice to know other people liked him, but he wasn’t interested in other people. Not right now. He was interested in only one person: the woman in his arms. “Is that what you think of me—that I’m a good cowhand?”

  “Yes.”

  He’d been hoping for more, a lot more. Was it so hard for her to say she loved him? She might as well have said he was the family’s faithful hound dog. It was pretty much the same as a pat on the head. He should take his arms from around her, but he couldn’t make himself give up the chance to hold her a little longer. It might be the only chance he ever got.

  “That’s what I think of you, but it’s not what I feel for you.”

  Salty’s spirits revived. The door hadn’t slammed shut. He wouldn’t give up hope until she actually said she didn’t love him. He was sure those words would kill him. “What do you feel?” he asked.

  “Love.”

  It was only one word, a single syllable, but it was more potent than the most masterful speech ever given. It had the power to change his life.

  “Are you sure?”

  Sarah looked startled at his que
stion. It was obviously the wrong thing to ask, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Why do you ask?”

  “Because no one has ever said that to me.”

  “Didn’t your parents—?”

  “No.” The word was spoken softly but firmly.

  “My parents didn’t, either, but I was sure everybody else’s did…”

  Neither one of them had grown up surrounded by love, so how could they be sure this wasn’t merely a strong liking driven by physical attraction? While it wouldn’t be the worst marriage in the world if only one of them was in love, he didn’t want to settle for that.

  “I never thought I would feel love for anyone except my children,” Sarah went on. Moonlight caused the tears glistening on her cheeks to sparkle like diamonds. “I thought only a woman could feel such depth of emotion. That’s why I intended to choose Walter over you.”

  He stared at her. “You never told me why you changed your mind.” She appeared reluctant to explain. “You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not.” But how could he believe her feelings were genuine if she didn’t?

  “It’s not that,” she said. “I just don’t want you to think I fell in love with you only because of my children.”

  “Why would I think that?”

  “Because of the way you were drawn to them, the way they became attached to you. Right from the start. It’s what caused me to change my mind.”

  He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that. He’d grown very attached to Jared and Ellen. He’d caught himself thinking of himself as their father, even someday playing with their children as his grandchildren. But as much as that picture appealed to him, it lacked an ingredient that would make this marriage everything he wanted: Sarah’s love.

  “At least, that’s what I thought at first,” she said.

  Salty had always thought he was unable to experience the strong feelings that plagued other people. Now he realized he was just like everybody else, at least when it came to falling in love. He wasn’t sure he could take many more emotional ups and downs.