by Laurie Paige
“Thank God for that.” Lorrie wiped the tears that sprang to her eyes. “That must be why the deputy lit out of here with his lights flashing.”
Carey told the housekeeper about going to the ranch for the cattle drive that afternoon. “But don’t tell Sophie. I’d like some time on my own. You can reach me on the cell phone if anything comes up.”
“Good,” Lorrie said, a matchmaking gleam in her eye. “Why don’t you let Sophie spend the night at my place? My granddaughter can stay, too. That way, my daughter can have some quiet time with the new baby.”
Carey considered. “Let me talk to Sophie first. I like to keep my weekends for her. Is she in her room?”
“Yes. She was trying to teach Highway to color, but he ate the crayon. She’s decided to teach him to sit up.”
Sophie was delighted with the prospect of staying with Lorrie and her granddaughter. “This is my second sleepover,” she announced, as if it were a great feat.
They packed an overnight case, ate lunch, then played until Lorrie was ready to leave.
After waving goodbye, Carey pulled on thermal long johns and jeans before heading for the Kincaid place. Her heart beat faster as she approached the ranch.
She’d been there for the wedding of Dugin Kincaid to Mary Jo Plummer—actually Lexine Baxter, but no one knew that at the time—a few years ago. She could vaguely recall what the Kincaid house had looked like inside. Decorating didn’t interest her. However, it was a shame no one lived in the mansion now.
The horse, Smoky, was in the corral as promised. She clipped a fanny pack of food and water around her waist and tied her first-aid kit behind the saddle. A cowboy hat was hung on the saddle horn. Under it was a note that told her to head due west past the old apple orchard. She put on the hat, opened the gate and started out.
An hour of steady riding brought her within hearing of the herd. She pulled the hat snug on her head and urged Smoky into a lope. In a few minutes, she joined them.
“Hi.” Wayne rode up. “Any trouble finding us?”
She shook her head, letting her eyes roam his lean masculine figure. He was a handsome man in the saddle, seated astride an ebony gelding of part-Arabian stock.
“Did you remember to eat lunch?” he asked.
“You’re turning into a nanny,” she warned with a happy laugh. “Lorrie asks me that nearly everyday.”
In truth, he made her feel cherished—a thing she’d never experienced from a man. Her heart bumped around in loopy circles in her chest as she let herself bask in the warm enchantment of his smile.
Longing rose in her. She wanted…she didn’t know what. How much simpler life was for a child. She and Sophie had discussed the merits of brothers and sisters recently. Sophie wanted one of each. And a dog for each of them, too.
“How many puppies does Freeway have?” she called.
Wayne swung a rope and shooed some cows into line. He and the gelding fell back into step with her and Smoky. “There were four in the litter.”
“So there are three left?”
“Yeah. I thought Sophie and I might take one to Jenny. If you think it will be okay. Maybe we could smuggle it up to the hospital and let her see it.”
Her smile went radiant. “Better than that. You can take the pup to her house. She’ll go home next week.”
“Home,” he repeated. “You mean…” He stared at her, hope and disbelief in his expression.
“The transplant took, yes.”
She was jerked forward, almost falling off the horse, except there was a broad chest to catch her. She was very thoroughly kissed before he let her go. She sank into the saddle, her breathing fast.
“That’s great news.” His smile flashed over his tanned face, changing his appearance to one that was gentler. “I’ve been meaning to talk to Sterling about an idea for the ranch. You, too.”
“Me?”
“You have the slopes on your land to make some fine ski runs. The Kincaid spread would be suitable for a vacation spot. With a golf course in addition to swimming, riding and hiking, the ranches could turn into a year-round resort and still run a cattle operation.”
She blinked at him in amazement. “You have been doing some thinking.” She considered the possibilities. At the moment, nothing seemed impossible or too farfetched for her to contemplate. “That’s a wonderful idea. The remains of the old mining town, up where Homer was kept captive by Lexine, would be a great draw, too. We could renovate it and have parties in the saloon.”
“After a hayride.”
“Oh, yes. We could have horse rides along the ridge crest trail up to Crazy Mountain, too.”
For the rest of the afternoon, she planned activities she thought vacationers would like. Until she noticed the laughter in his eyes. She tried to swat him with the borrowed hat, but he and his horse were too quick. They shied away in an effortless display of horsemanship.
It was almost dark before they galloped into the clearing in front of the Baxter cabin. He dismounted first, then came to her. Hands at her waist, he lifted her from the saddle as if she weighed nothing.
“How long have we got?” he asked.
“All night. Lorrie invited Sophie to spend the night with her.”
Flames darted through his eyes. “I’ll take care of the animals,” he said. “It’s getting too cold to be out.”
She rushed inside, started the stove to warm up the cabin, then washed up and changed to sweats she’d left there the last time she’d visited. She unrolled two sleeping bags and laid them on the bunks.
Excitement rushed through her as she worked, making her want to laugh. She was happy, truly happy. Wayne came in on a rush of cold mountain air. She gave him a resounding kiss before removing the food she’d brought with her.
Later, sitting in his lap in front of the stove before going to bed, she sighed contentedly. As much as she loved her child, Sophie’s sweet laughter and youthful enthusiasms weren’t enough to fill the lonely corners of her life. For that, she needed an adult, someone who could be strong for her when she needed a shoulder to lean on after being strong for her patients all day.
Snuggled against Wayne’s broad chest, replete from their lovemaking, she pitted the past against the future. Three years ago, in the aftermath of divorce, her child and her career had taken precedence. She’d thought they would be enough. But that was then.
It was time she reevaluated her goals. Longing rose in her, hot and aching and needful. A companion in life, that’s what she wanted. Someone to love, freely and completely. Someone who would be there for her just as she would be there for him.
She knew who that someone was.
Eleven
The problem with even a short, one-day vacation, Carey decided on Monday morning, was having to go back to work. She stretched and threw off the covers. She’d slept okay, but it had been different without Wayne’s long, sinewy length to keep her warm.
He’d stayed at the ranch yesterday while she came home to have Sunday with Sophie. He hadn’t appeared last night, although she’d stayed up until eleven waiting for him.
He would be busy with the cattle until things were resolved at the ranch. And when they were?
She didn’t have an answer.
The weekend had left her confused and wary. Not that she was confused about her feelings. Fact was fact. She’d fallen in love with Wayne Kincaid. She just didn’t know what to do about it.
She’d relegated him to the role of drifter, a renegade without commitment to anyone, but knowing his true identity made a difference. Some part of her couldn’t believe he’d walk away from his heritage again. Even if he didn’t want to claim it, surely he wouldn’t just leave.
That’s where the confusion came in. She had no idea what he would do. And so she was wary. She had to guard her heart and that of her daughter, who asked about Wayne first thing when she got up that morning.
Carey and Sophie had breakfast together, then left. She dropped the girl at kindergarten, then
went to the hospital. Jessica was waiting for her in Jenny’s room.
Jenny looked tearful. The lab technician had just been in for a blood sample.
“How long will she have to be tested?” Jessica asked. “It seems ungrateful to ask, but she’s so tired of needles.”
“I know.” Carey explained that they had to keep an eye on the blood count so they would know Jenny’s new marrow was performing as it should. “She’ll come in once a month for a while after she goes home, then once every three months, then once a year for a checkup as usual.”
Jessica smiled in relief. “Jenny wants Sophie to come over and play with her when she goes home. Do you think it would be okay? I was thinking you might come for dinner Saturday night if you’re not too busy.”
“That sounds fine. As long as Jenny doesn’t get overly tired, her activities should return to normal.”
They talked about the weather—more snow on the way—and Jenny’s care for the next few months. Carey saw the rest of her patients, then went to the office.
Moriah Hunter, who managed the office for her husband and Carey, stuck her head around the connecting door when Carey arrived. “My father said to tell you the outsiders aren’t as pure as their name. Does that make any sense?”
Carey nodded. “He warned me about outsiders causing the problems at the Kincaid ranch. Lester Buell has made an offer for the ranch. Wayne and Sterling are sure he’s acting for someone, but he won’t say who. I’ll tell Wayne what your father said. It might mean something more to him.”
“It would be odd not to have the Kincaid ranch. The place has been a landmark in the county for so long.”
“Sometimes a change is best,” Carey said, echoing something Wayne, in his alter ego of J. D. Cade, had once said to her.
However, those had been words spoken by a man who had denied his past for twenty-five years. He would have to come to grips with it before he could find the peace he needed to settle in one place and build a life.
“Are they going to sell?”
Carey shrugged and tossed her purse and cardigan on the credenza in her office. “I suppose they will have to. But you know men. They get very stubborn when they feel they’re being coerced into anything.”
Moriah laughed. “Don’t I ever.”
“Are you gals bad-mouthing us guys again?” a male voice inquired. Kane appeared behind his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and proceeded to ravish her neck until she begged for mercy. A becoming flush highlighted her face when he finally lifted his head.
Carey smiled at their play, while ignoring a stab to her heart. She knew their story. They’d fallen in love as teenagers. It wasn’t until Moriah had come back to find her father that Kane had discovered he was also a father. Moriah’s teenage daughter had been his child. He and Moriah had fallen in love all over again. This time it had ended all right for them. They’d put the past behind and married.
“Time to get to work,” Moriah said in a stern tone to her teasing husband. Her eyes were laughing, though.
Carey sighed after they left. She donned a colorful smock printed with fairy tale characters and went to greet her first patient.
She didn’t see Wayne that day, or the next four. Neither did he call. Although she’d thought she was beyond false pride, she couldn’t bring herself to call him.
The promised storm came through on Thursday night. On Friday, they awoke to a wonder world of white.
“The trees look like cupcakes,” Sophie declared, her nose and Highway’s pressed to the window. “All frosted with snow. Let’s make cupcakes tonight, okay, Mom? When is Wayne coming over? Let’s invite him to supper.”
“He’s very busy at the ranch. This snow will be hard on the cattle. The cowboys will have to feed them somehow.”
“Oh.” Sophie skipped to the table when Carey had their oatmeal and toast ready. Highway went to his dish and wolfed down the dog food she set out for him. His tail wagged when Sophie scolded him for eating so fast.
Carey had to wait until the snowplow came through and cleared her drive before she and Sophie could get on the road. When she returned home after dark that night, the snow was falling again. She and Sophie made cupcakes and decorated them with sprinkles. They played with the pup, had cupcakes with milk during a video, then read two books when Sophie was tucked into bed.
Carey, dressed in her warm flannel gown, sat in front of the fire and looked through the latest medical journal. The clock on the mantel chimed ten. She sighed as the loneliness washed over her and hugged her knees to her chest. She had to get a grip.
Her life had been fine before that drifter J. D. Cade had barged into it. He might be Wayne Kincaid in reality, but the golden boy who had once shown her a kindness bore no resemblance to the man who had come back from war. That man had been tempered by fire and come out as hard as stainless steel. It was all so sad.
Before she had time to get more than a little maudlin, she heard an engine on the drive. Going to the kitchen window, she peered into the night.
Snow came out of a vortex centered in the distant streetlight and hit the window with a faint crackling sound. Someone sat in a truck, looking her way, his headlights bright on the garage door.
She realized who it was. She gasped and her pulse increased. She opened the door to the garage and hit a button. The garage door rolled up. The pickup eased inside. The engine was turned off. Wayne swung out, slammed the door and strode toward her.
“Get inside. It’s freezing out here.”
He closed the door behind him, saw her bare feet, muttered something she didn’t catch and swung her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He grinned. “Not all I hope to do. Where did you lose your shoes?”
“At the sofa. I was reading—”
She got no further. He set her down on the cushions and proceeded to kiss her breathless. She shivered as the cold from his clothing surrounded her. He opened his jacket and pulled her inside, wrapping her in the warmth of sheepskin and his body. She sighed and savored it all.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he muttered when they finally came up for air.
“You shouldn’t be out. The weather is terrible.” She touched him as she spoke, stroking his hair, his ears, his cheeks, which were warming slowly. “You could have had a wreck, gotten frostbite or—”
“Shh. None of those things happened. I’m here.”
“Take your coat off. And your boots. I’ll make you a warm drink.”
“Okay if I take a hot shower?”
“Yes. Good idea.” She fussed over him, helping him with his jacket, his boots and finally his clothing. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
Naked now, and in her bedroom, he grabbed her to him, stroking her through her gown, driving her mad with needs denied for the long, lonely week. He kissed her again, then set her away and headed for the shower.
She went to the kitchen and put out cupcakes on a plate, then made a thick sandwich of ham on rye and a pot of decaffeinated coffee. She considered, then set out two snifters and the brandy she kept for her father’s visits. She took everything to the coffee table in the living room. There she sat and waited for him to come to her, while she weighed the past against the future.
She’d trusted her heart once before, and it had been wrong. Tomorrow he could be gone without a trace, just like the fog that crept down from the mountain into the valley at night, then disappeared come morning.
He returned wearing the pajamas she’d provided when he was recuperating from the surgery. Like Highway, he wolfed down the food as if he hadn’t eaten all day. She poured them each a jot of brandy. He raised his glass in a silent toast.
She did the same.
They watched each other as they sipped the liquor. When she set the glass aside, he reached for her again.
“You feel good,” he said, and kissed her.
“So do you. Did you get all the cattle moved before the storm?” she aske
d a full minute later.
His mouth kicked up at the corners. “Yes.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers. “Today, all I could think about was you and being here.”
“Oh.”
She couldn’t think of a word to add to that statement. Something warm and sweet and contented spread through her. It would be okay to tell him her dreams, then she would listen to his. Maybe they would be the same. Tomorrow, she would tell him.
But he was gone when she awoke.
Wayne pulled a blue crew-neck sweater on, adjusted the collar of his shirt, then added a wool sport jacket. The puppy tugged at his pant leg.
He scooped up the little rascal and put her in the box for the third time. “Stay,” he ordered.
The pup tilted her head to one side as if considering, then hopped out again. Wayne caught her before she’d gone two feet. He closed the flaps on the box. She yapped in protest and kept it up until he let her out again.
“Just like a female,” he groused at her.
She sat down, tilted her head to an alert angle and gave him a puppy-dog grin.
He ran a brush through his hair, which he’d had cut that afternoon. He’d been invited to the McCallums’ for dinner. They were going to go over the ranch plans. He’d mentioned them briefly to Sterling the other day.
The deputy had seemed interested in his ideas for a possible ski resort and vacation spot along with a working ranch to attract visitors. There was enough land to run both operations. They could start small and expand slowly, maybe put in cross-country ski trails first.
Carey had mentioned several possibilities. She was a smart woman with a good head for business. That’s one of the things he liked about her. She was capable and practical.
Thinking of her made him think of last night. He’d gone to her against his better judgment. He could feel himself being drawn in, the proverbial moth to candle, by her warmth and caring ways. And Sophie, too. She was a neat kid.
He frowned as feelings pushed against his insides, making him feel tight and uneasy.
All the plans they’d discussed for the combined Kincaid-Baxter spreads sounded pretty far-ranging. It would take a commitment of time and energy. She’d seemed to think he would be around to make all this happen. Had she forgotten he planned to leave when the problems were cleared up?