She sat up, raised her seat and smiled. Popping an Altoid in her mouth, she took a long swallow of the bottle of spring water in the cup holder and asked where they were.
“About an hour from Louisville, honey. The traffic is getting to be heavy, so bear with me. This is one of the best-attended events in this part of the country, so folks flock here every year.”
Ruth nodded agreeably. “I’ve always seen those huge crowds, even when the weather is dreadful. I hope we have a nice sunny weekend. I’m always terrified for the horses when the track is muddy. Some horses like a muddy track, but it’s so dangerous for them! When something happens to a horse I just die a little inside because it’s so awful for them,” she added. “I’d make a terrible trainer because I’d be so scared my jockey would get hurt I’d pull the horse from the race or something. I’m just a big ol’ chicken, I guess.”
There it was again, her loving, giving nature. If bad weather arose at a horse race most women would complain about getting wet or ruining their outfit, but Ruth’s concern was all for the horse and rider. He reached over and took her hand, loving the feel of her soft, moist skin. She squeezed it gently and won his heart all over again by bringing it to her lips to plant a kiss on the back. Then she surprised him totally by saying, “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve to be this happy, Julian. You’re like a beautiful gift that was delivered to the wrong house,” she said in a small voice.
Just ahead of him traffic came to a complete halt and he had to extricate his hand and maneuver carefully to avoid rear-ending the poor sap in front of him. From then on it was stop-start-curse-stop-start, so he didn’t have a chance to ask her why in the world she felt like that. He made a mental note to ask her at his earliest opportunity, though. But sooner than he imagined, they were pulling into Falling Water Farms, the large and very well-kept horse farm that was their destination. His questions would have to wait as they were greeted by their hosts Lincoln Alexander and his sister Marilyn.
They were attractive and friendly people in their early fifties. Neither of them had ever married; they were orphaned at an early age and devoted themselves to raising their younger siblings. Without betraying any confidences, Mac had hinted at the truly difficult time they’d had keeping the family together.
“Most people would have given up and let social services take over, but Line and Marilyn aren’t like most people. They made some tremendous sacrifices to keep their younger brothers and sisters together. Maybe one day you’ll hear the whole story. You won’t believe it, honey. Even now I can’t completely comprehend what they went through,” he told her as they made themselves comfortable in one of the guest cottages on the premises.
Whatever problems they’d overcome didn’t show on their faces, however. Lincoln and Marilyn were both tall, with deep permanent tans from working outdoors so much and lean, muscular frames that spoke of daily physical exertion. They were warm and friendly people, but modest and quiet by nature. Whenever Ruth complimented Marilyn on the beauty of the ranch and the main house, she accepted the accolade with a shy smile.
“Thank you. It’s a combination of Lincoln’s vision, our hard work and God’s goodness to our family,” she said quietly. “Would you like a tour? We can walk or ride, whatever you prefer.”
Mac was impressed when Ruth eagerly said she’d ride. She did so like she did everything else, with a natural grace.
“You seem totally at home up there,” he teased her when she was astride her mount, a pretty black filly with a lot of spunk.
“I dated a horse trainer for a while. He taught me everything I know,” she said, patting her mount, Ebony, on the neck. It was a good thing she wasn’t looking at Mac or she’d have seen a totally new expression; a flash of anger blazed across his face so quickly that no one saw it except Linc, who wasted no time in getting on Mac’s case. The two men were ahead of the women and as they trotted the paths around the ranch, Linc let him have it.
“Mac, I’ve known you for a long time and I’ve never seen you like this. I didn’t think you had it in you but you’re jealous! Admit it, you want to go find that horse trainer and beat him senseless, don’t you?” Linc’s warm gray eyes were full of merriment.
“Aww, here you go,” Mac grumbled. The deeply possessive streak that had been an integral part of every Deveraux man for generations was indeed coming to the fore. Mac couldn’t have said why the idea that some other man had taught his honey how to ride was galling him, but Linc was dead right, Mac was as jealous as a schoolboy over what amounted to nothing.
“Just you wait, old man. Your turn is coming. You’re going to find yourself head over heels with some woman one day and then it won’t be so hilarious,” he groused. “You might have escaped matrimony up until now, but that doesn’t mean your day isn’t coming.”
Lincoln laughed self-consciously, his light brown skin taking on a reddish hue. His gray eyes crinkled in amusement as he shook his head. “I don’t think so, partner. I’m way too old for that stuff. No woman in her right mind would put up with me,” he assured his friend.
“Don’t say ‘never,’ Linc. You’re just setting yourself up for some woman to pounce on you. Look at me; I was sitting around minding my own business when my daughter, of all people, introduces me to this incredible woman. And now—” he said, only to be cut off by Ruth.
“Now it’s time for lunch,” she informed him as she cantered up next to him. “I’m going to help Marilyn.” She leaned over to kiss him lightly. “Don’t forget who loves you,” she whispered.
Mac watched the two women ride off with a smile on his face. “See what I’m telling you? Never say never my friend, it’s a big bold word but it really doesn’t mean that much.”
Marilyn seemed genuinely happy to have Ruth’s company, especially since Falling Water Farms was hosting a big party that night. “We’re not big party people. We don’t go to a lot of them and we sure as heck don’t give them. This is a working ranch and we just don’t have a lot of time for a social life. But since Rainy is doing so well, we kind of felt we needed to do something festive,” she said wanly.
Ruth’s heart went out to the woman. She was obviously uncomfortable with her new role as hostess to a multitude of friends, neighbors and strangers, and fortunately, entertaining ran in Ruth’s blood. She patted Marilyn on the shoulder and assured her it would be a great evening. “I’m going to tell you a secret,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “All you really need for a great outdoor party is a lot of good food and some good loud music. If the weather cooperates, you’ve got it made.”
Marilyn brightened at once. “We did get the best caterer in the county. From what I understand she and her staff are like magicians. She was on the Food Network and she’s been in Gourmet magazine and Bon Appétit,” she recited, and then reddened along her cheekbones. “I have no idea what that means,” she confessed. “I read it in her brochure. I don’t spend a lot of time watching television and when I do, I’m so old-school it’s pitiful. I watch Columbo and Matlock reruns, stuff like that. And the only magazines I ever read are about horse breeding and training.” She blushed again. “I’m pretty hopeless, huh?”
Ruth wanted to hug her, but sensed it would just embarrass her to tears. Marilyn was tall and naturally slim with the muscle tone that came from years of hard work. Her wavy brown hair with natural blond highlights was pulled back in a long sensible braid and she had piercing gray eyes that were just like her brother’s. She had a strong profile and beautifully chiseled features, the kind of aristocratic beauty that couldn’t be bought or painted on, yet she seemed as shy as one of her foals. All she needed was a little dose of self-confidence, something Ruth had in abundance and was more than happy to share.
“You’re hardly hopeless. I admit to an addiction to Charmed and Murder, She Wrote, so we’re even. Marilyn, relax. The caterers are taking care of the setting up, the decorations and the serving, right? The music is covered because your neighbor’s son has a jazz band that�
�s playing and you hired a DJ to alternate with the live music,” she said as she ticked off points on her fingers. “The only thing you need to do is get yourself ready to have a good time tonight because this is going to be the party everyone’s talking about tomorrow. Trust me,” she said, linking her arm through Marilyn’s. “All you need is a long bubble bath and a great dress and you’re good to go.”
“Then we have a problem,” Marilyn said dolefully. “A great dress is not something you’ll find in my wardrobe.”
“Well, let’s go look in mine,” Ruth said. “I like shopping way too much,” she confided. “We’re about the same size and I know there’s something that will fit you. Come with me and we’ll work some magic.”
Magic was a good word for the party that night. The caterer was every bit as good as Marilyn said she was; she and her efficient staff provided ribs, grilled chicken, steak and Brunswick stew, all done to perfection. The side dishes were equally delicious and included grilled corn on the cob, cole slaw, potato salad, green salad and fruit salad, potatoes baked on the grill, cornbread, garlic bread and cheese biscuits. There were too many desserts to count, and an array of nonalcoholic beverages in addition to a well-stocked open bar. The decorations were in the Falling Water Farms colors of emerald green and royal purple and everything was festive and beautiful, including Marilyn, who’d bowed to Ruth’s insistence that she accept the loan of a dress. It was a simple dress in a heavenly shade of seafoam green. The bell skirt was knee-length and it was sleeveless with a low-cut back. Ruth also had a sexy pair of low-heeled sandals in the same color to go with it. Marilyn looked like a different person, regally elegant, but also happy and approachable. Everyone at the party was stunned by her appearance, except Mac, who knew the identity of Marilyn’s fairy godmother.
To him it was just one more example of the kind of woman Ruth was. He knew that the dress and shoes were new, he’d seen the tags. He couldn’t think of another woman, except maybe Paris, who’d have gone out of her way to do something so kind for a near-stranger. Ruth had just finished dressing in a different ensemble, a formfitting violet dress. It would have been totally plain but it had a halter neck with wide straps set far apart to allow her beautiful collarbones to show. It also had a sweetheart neckline that emphasized her bosom. Her breasts might have been small by some standards but as far as he was concerned they were perfect. Ruth was adding a rose-gold lip gloss to her luscious lips when she saw Mac staring at her.
“Is something hanging out that shouldn’t be?” she asked as she tried to look over her shoulder in the mirror.
Mac laughed before he pulled her into his arms. “Nothing’s wrong, darlin’. You look beautiful, as always. I was just thinking what a special person you are. How did you persuade Marilyn to borrow that dress from you? She looks great in it, but I’m surprised she took it. She and Line are very proud people,” he said thoughtfully.
Ruth rubbed her nose in Mac’s thick moustache. “I really want a kiss. A big juicy one, but I just put on my makeup and I’ll mess it up,” she murmured. “You’d better make sure I get my fair share after this shindig. And what’s wrong with borrowing a dress from a girlfriend? Marilyn needs more girlfriends in her life, I can tell. She’s worked too hard for too long and she needs some fun. That dress is a gift, by the way. She’ll figure it out by the time we’re halfway to Atlanta,” she added with a smug grin.
Mac held her tighter. “I love you. I love the smell of you,” he murmured as he buried his nose in the crook of her neck. “I love the taste of you, the feel of you and the heart of you. Your big, loving heart that opens to everyone like a rose in the sunshine.”
Without warning he led her into the sitting room of the guesthouse and sat her on the floral settee. Going down on one knee, he pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it, showing her the ring it contained. “Marry me, Ruth. I love you with all my heart and I’ll do anything in this world to make you happy. Marry me, please, so we can live the rest of our lives together in happiness.”
As he spoke he took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her ring finger, a finger that was trembling like the rest of her body. She glanced at the big oval ring for a moment, but her eyes went to his and she couldn’t look away.
“Are you serious, Julian?” she whispered.
Mac broke into laughter. “Of course I’m serious, woman. Would I be down here on one knee if I was playing around? You have to know how I feel about you, honey. Other than my children there’s no one in the world who’s as precious to me as you are. And you can’t convince me you don’t feel the same way about me. I can see it every time you look at me, I can feel it every time you touch me, and I can hear it every time you call my name.”
By now tears were running freely down Ruth’s face and it was like a knife in his heart. He stood long enough to scoop her up in his arms and sit down on the settee with her in his lap. “Honey, you can’t cry like that. Even if you’re happy, seeing those tears just does something to me. Stop crying and talk to me, darlin’. Tell me what’s in your heart,” he crooned.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I’ve never loved anyone like this, not even Jared and I loved him with all my heart. I go to sleep thinking about you and I wake up smiling because I know I’m going to hear your voice. When I’m with you I feel something way beyond happiness, I feel like a real woman. Not just because you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever met in my life, but because I feel your respect, your admiration, your love and protection. I’m so glad we met, Julian. I feel like buying Paris a small island or a diamond mine or something to show my gratitude,” she said with a shaky attempt at a smile. “When you look at me sometimes I wonder what I ever did to deserve this happiness,” she said as yet another tear trickled down her cheek.
Mac kissed her tears away and pulled her even closer. “Honey, you make it sound like I’m some kind of superman. Believe me, I’m not. I’ll be happy to prepare a list of all my shortcomings for you and my housekeeper will gladly attest to the fact that I’m lucky to be able to afford household help or I’d be living in squalor,” he teased her. “All I am is what you see, a hardworking man who loves you more than air. Marry me and let me prove it to you.”
“But it’s only been three months,” she began, only to have his lips cover hers.
“Marry me.”
“I’m selfish and demanding,” she whispered.
“Liar. Marry me,” he answered as he licked her neck.
“I’m bossy and uncooperative,” she murmured.
“Are you going to marry me or are we going to miss the whole party while I sit here and beg you?” Mac asked sternly.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what? I want to hear the words,” he growled as he kissed her again.
“Yes, Julian MacArthur Deveraux, I, Ruth Theresa Bennett, will marry you, because I adore you and I can’t begin to imagine living without you. I love you, Julian. I’m sure I’ll give you a hard time sooner or later, but I love you with all my heart.”
Mac roared with laughter. “I’d rather have a hard time with you than a good time with twenty other women. I like making up so we can fight anytime you like. As a matter of fact, can we make love right now?” he asked in a seductive voice. “I haven’t made love to you as my official fiancee.”
Ruth scrambled off the settee. “No, we can’t because the word quickie means two hours to you. It’s a good thing this dress is silk faille and doesn’t wrinkle,” she said, smoothing the front of it down. “We’re going to the party and acting like civilized people for three hours. And then we’re going to come back here and I’m going to give you a bath.”
Mac raised an eyebrow. It sounded nice, but not earth-shattering—they’d done that many times.
“With my tongue,” she cooed.
Mac groaned and leaned over while he tried to clear that image from his brain. “Say, aren’t you going to look at your ring? You may hate it,” he cautioned.
Ruth’s fingers splayed out in fr
ont of her and she stared at the most gorgeous ring she’d ever seen. It was a five-carat oval green stone with fiery purple flashes and it had three smaller stones on either side in a paler shade of green that flashed gold. Set in eighteen-carat gold, it was feminine, yet bold and modern. She covered her mouth with her other hand while the tears started again.
“It’s incredible, Julian, what in the world is it?”
“It’s called a bicolor tourmaline, honey. I wanted something to go with those fascinating eyes of yours. The smaller stones are chrysoberyl. If you don’t like it, you can keep it for a regular ring and we’ll go get you some diamonds or something. I had this one made for you because of those beautiful eyes of yours. Those beautiful leaky eyes,” he added fondly as he used his linen handkerchief to dab them away.
“Julian, I’m never taking this ring off again, are you crazy? I love it and I love you for giving it to me. I have to fix my face and we have to leave here now or we’ll never make it to the party. But,” she cautioned him, “We’re not staying long. Not long at all,” she said in a dreamy voice while she stared at her ring again.
The only thing that could have made the weekend any better was a victory for Kentucky Rain and Falling Water Farms. A sumptuous brunch was prepared by the catering staff, who had been hired for two days, but everyone was too keyed up to eat much. Everyone except Mac and Ruth, that is. They both ate with great appetites because they’d made love with such intensity and passion they were both starving. No one seemed to notice the amount of food they were putting away and it was just as well. Scrambled eggs, sausage, grits, cinnamon coffee cake, raisin toast and fresh pineapple disappeared from their plates in a very short time and they were sipping tea and making goo-goo eyes at each other while everyone else was preparing to leave for Churchill Downs where the race was held.
Before the Storm (The Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 9) Page 13