by Bobbi Smith
"I'll try to get in to see you as often as I can," he promised.
"Good." She knew she would be counting the days.
They reached Diablo far too quickly to suit Crystal.
"I had a wonderful time, Brent. Thank you for inviting me," she said when he reined in before the boardinghouse.
"I did, too."
So much had happened that day, he could hardly believe it had just been that morning that they'd attended church.
"Would you like to come in for a minute?"
"Sure." He wasn't ready to say good-bye to her yet, and he did want to see her safely inside.
Brent followed Crystal indoors after tying up the team.
"Anne?" Crystal called out as she walked into the parlor. She saw a note on the table by the sofa and went to read it.
Crystal
I have a meeting tonight for the Ladies' Solidarity and will be gone until about ten. Hope you had fun today.
Anne
"Is she here?" Brent asked, coming up behind her.
"No. She's at a meeting." Crystal turned and looked up at him. She'd been hoping for the chance to kiss him before he had to leave.
"
"Alone," she provided with a soft, alluring smile. She was the only boarder in the house just then.
"Good." Brent needed no further invitation to gather Crystal to him and kiss her.
She linked her arms around his neck and held him close, treasuring their last few minutes together. Being with Brent was her joy. When she was with him, she could pretend that the world truly was a wonderful place and that heroes really did exist. It was a fantasy, but she didn't care. For a little while, with Brent, it was real.
Brent knew he should kiss Crystal only once and then leave. He knew what a temptation she was to him. He knew it was dangerous to hold her this way, to feel the softness of her against him. He'd learned earlier that day just how exciting her embrace could be, and he knew he should walk away from her while he still could. Brent fought for control. He broke off the kiss and looked down at her.
"I have to go," he told her, knowing that if he spent another minute in her arms he wouldn't be able to leave her.
Crystal gazed up at him and lifted one hand to caress his cheek. "But I don't want you to leave. Stay with me."
Brent was torn between doing the right thing and losing himself in the glory of her love.
And then she kissed him.
Brent found he couldn't deny himself the excitement of having Crystal in his arms. She was warm and willing, and they were by themselves in the privacy of the house.
He deepened the kiss.
Crystal responded instinctively, eagerly meeting him in that rapturous exchange. Excitement coursed through her. She wanted to be even closer to him.
Any trace of restraint was lost to them. Their passion was unleashed.
Brent brought Crystal fully against him. He began to caress her, loving her and arousing her.
Crystal drew away for a moment to whisper, "My room's upstairs."
He needed no further encouragement. He swept her up in his arms and cradled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her up the staircase. She pointed out the room, and he went in, kicking the door shut behind them.
Brent laid her upon the wide softness of the bed, then went back to lock the door. He returned to the bedside, gazing down at her as she lay before him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes heavy-lidded with passion.
Crystal looked up at Brent as he stood over her. He looked so wonderful to her-so tall and broadshouldered and powerful. She wanted to touch him, to be close to him, to love him-forever.
Brent was her hero.
Crystal lifted her arms to him in unspoken invitation.
Brent went to her. He lay down beside her and drew her to him, holding her close. Crystal responded eagerly. When he began to caress her, she gave free rein to her desire.
Their passion grew with each kiss and touch, until finally they could stand no barrier between them. With eager hands, Crystal worked at the buttons of his shirt and pushed the offending garment from Brent's shoulders. Her hands explored him, sculpting the hard muscles of his arms and chest. Then she traced an arousing line across his stomach at the waistline of his pants.
Brent shuddered at her intimate touch. He stood and drew her up from the bed. They shared one long, lingering kiss as he finished unfastening her gown. They had to move apart for her to step out of it, but it was worth the momentary separation. He went to her as she stood before him, clad only in her chemise, and kissed her softly.
Crystal felt shy and daring at the same time. She loosened the ties on her chemise and slipped it from her. She stood before him, her beauty fully bared to him for the first time.
"You're beautiful," he told her in a love-husky voice.
"So are you." Crystal reached for him.
They returned to the bed and came together in a firestorm of excitement. The moment was rapturous as they each sought to please the other with every kiss and touch. Crystal had never known such pleasure. The flame of their desire grew, searing them both, until there could be no denying their love.
Brent left Crystal only long enough to finish undressing. Then he went back into her arms, and they gave themselves over to the splendor of their need. Crystal thrilled to his every caress. When he moved over her, she accepted him eagerly, wanting to know the full glory of his love.
Caught up in the ecstasy of her embrace, Brent wanted only to make her his in all ways. His mouth sought hers in a passionate claim as he moved to make them one. But when he breached the proof of her innocence, he was jarred back to reality.
Crystal was a virgin...
"Crystal..." He went still and drew back to gaze down at her.
She looked up at him and smiled softly. The momentary pain of his possession was quickly forgotten in the glory of this moment.
They were one.
She kissed him.
He began to move again, not wanting to stop, needing to know her completely. They sought the heights of passion, giving and taking, each wanting to please the other. In exquisite harmony they crested. Rapture burst upon them. They clung together in love's aftermath, aware only of each other and the glory of what had just passed between them.
Brent held Crystal close as the passion of the moment quieted.
She had been a virgin.
As surprised as Brent was by the discovery, he was also delighted. She played the part of seductress so well, yet she had been an innocent.
And she had given her innocence-her greatest gift-to him.
As the ecstasy of the moment faded, reality returned. Brent didn't know why she hadn't told him of her virginity, but he knew what he had to do. He had to protect Crystal and do the right thing.
"Crystal," Brent began as he moved away from her.
Caught up in the beauty and peace of the moment, she looked up at him dreamily.
"You should have told me. I didn't realize..." He hesitated, uncomfortably, trying to figure out what to do. "I'm sorry."
His apology jarred her from her fantasy world. Brent was sorry?
"We'll get married right away," Brent declared.
"Married?" Crystal repeated, still stunned by his apology.
Oh, she wanted to marry Brent. She wanted it with all her heart. Being Mrs. Brent Hunter would be pure ecstasy for her-a dream come true. And Brent was a true hero. His offering to marry her proved that yet again.
But as much as she wanted to spend the rest of her life loving him, Crystal knew it could never be. Not in the real world. In the real world, she was wanted for murder.
Her brother had almost caught up with her in San Antonio, and the law might just be waiting for her around the next comer. Her life was in turmoil- she could not accept his proposal. She couldn't do that to him. She loved him too much.
"We can go to Reverend Crawford right now, tonight," Brent said, taking charge as he always did, and already planning
how best to handle the situation.
"Brent-no."
He went still. "What?"
"I can't marry you."
Brent had never proposed to anyone before. He had never even thought seriously about marrying until now, until Crystal.
And she had just turned him down.
Proud man that he was, Brent wasn't about to take no for an answer.
"Crystal, we should get married. Now. Tonight. You were an innocent and I-"
"Brent, you don't have to marry me just because we made love. I wanted this to happen as much as you did."
"But-"
"It's all right." She moved closer and kissed him with great tenderness.
"No, it's not all right as far as I'm concerned."
"I know you're trying to do the right thing. You're being my hero again," she said wistfully as she gazed up into his eyes and gently touched his cheek. "But I don't belong in your world."
"Crystal, for God's sake, what kind of world do you think I live in? Do you think I'm some kind of knight in shining armor from some perfect kingdom?" He gave a harsh laugh. "I'm a man whose father just got out of prison after serving time for murder-I'm not living a fairy-tale life. I live in the real world, and sometimes the real world isn't a very pretty place. You can't change the way things are, but you can learn to live with reality."
It didn't matter to Brent that she worked in a saloon. He knew how special she really was.
"You are so wonderful, Brent Hunter." Crystal smiled gently at him. "We'll talk about this more later, but right now it's getting late. You'd better go.
She didn't want to risk the possibility that Anne might return early and find them together.
Brent knew she was right. He had to leave while he could. He got up from the bed and started to dress.
"We're not done discussing this yet," he told her in his most authoritative voice.
The tone he used with her was the one that always commanded instant obedience from the hands on the ranch and, most of the time, from Abby, but it didn't intimidate Crystal at all. She just smiled at him.
When he'd finished dressing, Crystal wrapped the sheet around herself and went to stand before him. She kissed him once more, a tender, heartfelt exchange.
You are a very special man."
"And you are a very special woman." He held Crystal close one last time, then put her from him. He knew he had to go, and her tantalizing nearness was too much of a temptation for him.
"I'll be back." It was a promise.
"I'll be waiting."
Darkness claimed the land as Brent made the trek back to the Half-Moon. His mood was as dark as the night. He kept trying to understand why Crystal had turned down his proposal. Nothing made sense to him. They had made love. He had taken her virginity. There had been no reason for them not to get married that very night.
Unless she didn't love him.
The thought surprised Brent, but as he thought back over their time together, he realized neither one of them had ever expressed their feelings.
Did he love her?
He wasn't sure. He'd never been in love before. He cared about Crystal. She was beautiful and gentle, and she had made him laugh more than he'd laughed in years. But love her? He didn't know.
Brent made up his mind then and there that he was going to find a way to spend as much time with her as he could. What they shared was to be treasured, and he couldn't risk letting it slip away.
As the house came into view, thoughts of his father returned. He hadn't confronted Jack about the liquor earlier that day, but now that Crystal was gone, he was going to have it out with him.
A short time later, after taking care of the horses down at the stable, Brent went up to the house.
It wasn't very late, yet the place seemed awfully quiet as he let himself in. Only one lamp was burning, and he saw no sign of Abby. He hadn't thought she'd go to bed this early. Then he turned toward the study and stopped. There, seated at the desk, was his father, and it was obvious from the way he was sprawled in the chair that he had passed out. On the desk before him was a nearly empty whiskey bottle.
Rage filled Brent at the sight. It took all his selfcontrol not to drag his father outside and throw him into one of the watering troughs to sober him up.
"Brent?" Abby said in a low voice, appearing from her room down the hall.
"I'm here. I was wondering why you'd gone to bed so early, and now I know. Has he been in the chair all night?"
"After you left, he got his bottle and kept drinking. I tried to talk to him, but there was no use. I gave up and went to my room. I wasn't sleepy, but I couldn't stand to be around him anymore." She looked over at their father. "Should we try to get him into his bed?"
"Hell, no," Brent ground out. "Let him sleep right there. If he falls out of-the chair in the middle of the night, he's got no one to blame but himself."
She nodded in understanding as she stared sadly at her father. She looked at Brent and asked, "Everything went all right on your trip into town?"
"I stayed on at the boardinghouse talking to Crystal for a while," he told her casually, not revealing just how wonderful their visit had really been.
"You are going to see her again, aren't you? She's different from the other women in town."
"You're right. Crystal is different. I care about her, and I do plan to see more of her."
She glanced at their father once again. "Brent..."
"What?"
"I'm sorry about Papa. I know how upsetting it is for you to see him this way."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry about," Brent reassured her. "Pa's the one who made the decision to start drinking again."
"Are our troubles ever going to end?"
"Don't worry," Brent assured her. "I'll take care of things. I always have."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know yet, but I'm going to have a serious talk with him in the morning. We've got to get a few things settled between us."
He sat alone in his darkened hotel room. Fury ate at him. He had been close to catching Crystal in San Antonio-so close-and yet she had eluded him again.
Crystal was still out there somewhere. She hadn't just vanished. He would find her. And when he did, she would pay.
Brent went to bed hoping to dream of Crystal, but the visions that came to him in his sleep that night were tortured, not loving. In his nightmare he saw his father standing over his mother's dead body, holding the gun in his hand. The memory was powerful and painful, and Brent came awake with a violent start. He sat up in bed and stared around himself in the dark, trying to erase the vision of that hellish time from his mind.
After a while he lay back down, but peace did not come to him. He was beginning to wonder if it ever would, living in the same house with his father this way.
Brent was still awake and still tired when dawn finally began to brighten the eastern sky. His mood was tense as he got up and dressed. He wasn't look ing forward to the confrontation with his father to come, but he had to do it. He had to speak his mind. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't.
Brent left his bedroom, ready for whatever the new day would bring.
When Jack awoke, his head was pounding, and the light pouring in through the window beside him only magnified the pain. He quickly closed his eyes again and groaned in pure torture. He reached out and groped around the desktop, trying to grab his bottle. If there was one thing he needed, it was another stiff drink to make the pain go away.
"We have to talk." Brent's voice alerted him to his son's presence.
Jack was in no mood for conversation. An image of Beth haunted him, and he had to make it go away.
"Where the hell is my..." He barely opened one eye as he tried to locate the whiskey.
"I said, we have to talk," Brent repeated as he stood facing his father, holding the bottle of whiskey out for him to see.
"About what?" Jack said in a snarl. The pounding pain in h
is head was so severe he could barely think, and Brent's arrogance infuriated him even more.
"I think you know," he answered.
"No, I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" Jack said with a sneer.
"I told you on your first day back here that I don't allow liquor on the ranch."
n
"So look at yourself." Brent was disgusted with him.
Jack got to his feet and glared at him. "Give me that bottle!"
Brent's anger flared even hotter. Without a word he stalked to the front door, opened it, and threw the bottle out of the house.
Jack ran outside, desperate to get his bottle back. He picked it up, ready for a drink, but the bottle had cracked when it hit the ground and what whiskey was left had drained out.
"You arrogant bastard!" Jack snarled, throwing the bottle back down in disgust. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"I know who I am," Brent answered seriously. "I'm the one who provided for the family and saved the Half-Moon while you were sitting in prison for the last ten years!"
"This ranch is mine," Jack declared, resentment filling him. "What I say goes on the Half-Moon!"
He turned and started to walk away from Brent."
"Don't you turn your back on me, you son of a bitch!" Brent ordered. He had had all he could stand. "Do you think you can come back here to the Half-Moon and just take over like nothing ever happened?"
"You're damned right I can!" Jack countered hotly. "And if you don't like it here, you can leave!"
"You know what? Maybe you're right!" he exclaimed. "Maybe I should go. Maybe I should just up and leave, and let you try to figure out how to run this place all by yourselfl"
"Maybe you should!" Jack snapped, beyond fury.
"Well, Jack, if Brent goes"-it was Hank's voice, surprising them both-"I go." The ranch hands had seen the whiskey bottle come flying out the door and had heard the sound of their argument, and had come up to the house to see what was going on.
"Me, too," another one of the hands added. They were solidly behind Brent, whom they respected and trusted.
"Well, then, maybe I should be the one to go," Jack said sarcastically.
"Maybe you should," Brent said bluntly. He turned around and went back into the house, furious over the whole confrontation.