by Carol Rose
Bret's laughter rang out, causing Chessie's ears to twitch in his direction. Nora kept the reins steady in her hand, empathizing with the horse's reaction. Bret's laugh frequently caused various parts of Nora to twitch, too.
They turned west as the road dwindled into a pair of tire ruts across open pasture dotted with scrub brush. An easy silence descended on them, broken only by the creaking of their saddles and the occasional jingle of the bridles.
Birds fluttered in the brush along the fence line, rising in a flurry of wings as the horses neared. The fields showed yellow in the sun, the whisper of winter weeds moving in the breeze.
"Want to do a little exploring?" Bret asked, stopping General at a broken spot in the rustic fence. "I don't think old lady Turner would mind if we just look around."
Nora shifted Chessie's reins. "You don't think she'd care?"
"Naw," he clicked softly to his horse, "besides, it's always easier to get forgiveness than permission."
"Sounds like your life motto," commented Nora, following him through the gap in the fence.
Bret grinned. “Works as good as any. Come on, we'll inspect the buildings."
Excitement thrummed in Nora's veins at the thought of showing him her dream. "Most of the acreage is west of here, isn't it?" she asked, trying to maintain her equilibrium.
He slanted her a glance. "You’ve decided to buy the place and you don't know the lay of the land?"
"I'm mostly interested in the house and barns," Nora replied. "Although I will need some pasture land."
"Well, you're right. The biggest part of the property lies west of the house. You can see the stock tank over there. I think there are one or two others in the far pastures." The brim of his hat dipped as he nodded toward the western horizon.
A cluster of farm buildings came into sight as they crossed the open field. Nora studied the simple white house huddled beneath a grove of oaks. There was nothing grand about the house or barn, but something about the homestead called to her. It was a feeling so personal she'd never been able to explain it.
"So this is it," Bret said as they skirted the corrals around the barn. "Your Shangri La."
"Yes," she retorted firmly, knowing he was seeing the place in comparison to the well-kept Maddock spread. Even before the years of neglect, this small ranch didn't compare to Bret's.
He halted his horse with a low-spoken word. "So tell me what you have in mind."
''I'll show you." She dismounted eagerly and looped Chessie's reins loosely around a corral post.
Bret followed suit and walked with her.
"It's not as large as the set-up you've got," she admitted, "but the barn's in good shape. I'd have two riding rings outside and build a small indoor working arena later." Nora pointed to the left of the barn, the new building clear in her mind.
"What about the house?"
"It looks like it'll need some updating, but I'm sure it's livable." The thought of having a place to herself, any place, made her feel warm and comfortable.
"Have you been inside?"
"No," she said. "I just peeked through the windows, but they're big enough to give me a good idea of how it looks."
"You've got lots of ideas," he said, as they walked around to the front of the house.
Bret tried not to look discouraging as they stood on the cracked sidewalk, surveying the dilapidated building. He could practically feel Nora's excitement about the place. Her voice held a vibrancy when she spoke about her plans, her face glowing with enthusiasm. All Nora had to do was breathe, and shivers went through him.
The house, on the other hand, made him tired just looking at it. Nora couldn't have any idea of how much work it needed.
Winter honeysuckle framed the porch, its tall, shrubby shape dotted with small dirty-white blooms. From this angle, he could see three broken windows and a roof that sagged ominously. How on earth could one woman take this on?
"Nora, honey," he said. "Have you thought about what you'd do if you don't get the riding school thing off the ground?"
She glanced up at him swiftly, a challenging light in her eyes. "I’m going to make a go of this."
Taking her arm, he turned her gently toward him. "Sometimes things don't work out the way we plan. It's not anyone's fault. You've got to be able to see other possibilities."
"No," she declared, turning away from his grip to stalk up to the porch. "I know the academy will be a success if I can get beyond the gossip." Nora sat down on the front porch, her oval face transformed into a picture of determination.
"It's not just the gossip," he said softly. "You're fighting an uphill battle to get folks around here interested in paying to learn how to ride a horse. They grew up riding."
She shook her head, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "If I can get beyond the stuff about Richard and convince Mrs. Turner to sell me this land, I'll make a go of it. I'm just afraid all the talk will keep her from selling to me."
A niggle of guilt tugged at Bret. In the beginning, it hadn't seemed necessary to tell Nora about his plans for the Turner property. He hadn't thought she'd go this far with the riding school. But standing here with her now, his body half aroused by her presence, he was beginning to see problems ahead.
All her dreams were tied up here. She had her heart set on having her riding school in this exact spot. Stealing land out from under a woman wasn't the way to win her over.
Not that she really had any claim on the property. He'd seen it first and had already put out feelers about buying the place for a landing strip complete with a hangar. Its proximity to his family's ranch house and his cabin made it perfect.
Bret had no doubt that the old lady would listen to the recommendation of the guy who handled her finances. Fortunately, he and Jim Carlyle went back a long way.
"You know, honey. This isn't the only piece of land hereabouts." Bret sat down next to her on the top step.
"This is where I belong." Nora threw her arms wide. "It feels right. I can see myself living very happily here."
Her perseverance felt like a stone on his chest. "Why did you come back here, Nora, where Richard has such influence? You could have gone anywhere to start your school."
She shrugged. "When I first came home, I didn't realize what Richard had told his parents. It never occurred to me that anyone would think I'd tried to seduce his boss."
"But now," Bret pursued. "Why are you staying now? People have been so nasty I'd think you couldn't wait to leave."
Her moving away would make things so much easier. Not too far away, but out of Stoneburg where she faced such unfair treatment and where the land they both wanted could end his hopes for winning her.
What had started as a casual pursuit was fast taking on larger proportions. Bret wasn't totally sure what all he wanted with Nora, but he knew he wanted her in his life.
"I don't know," she sighed. "My mother refuses to move away. And Stoneburg is home. I never realized how much so until I lived in Dallas."
Sitting close like this, her scent drifting over him, Bret longed to touch her, to slide his hand beneath the weight of her hair and pull her to him. "Not much of a homecoming."
"I don't know how to explain it," Nora said. "It just seems like I have to stay. Not run away from this. Sticking it out here, starting the academy—I feel like I have to do it."
A restless wind teased the trees above them, scattering sunlight like a fall of golden confetti. Bret plucked a weed from the overgrown bed beside the steps, twisting the stem.
He'd wanted her to stand up to the gossips. Sitting next to her, watching the play of expressions on her face, he realized that Nora was taking a stand just by staying in Stone burg.
Unthinking, he reached for her, sliding his arms around her slim shoulders. She looked up, her face tilted for his kiss.
In all his years, no woman had tempted him more. He felt drawn to her in ways he couldn't explain. When his lips met hers, the thunder of his heart became a roar in his ears. It wa
s always like this with her, this sudden burst of hunger and urgency consuming him, primal urges surfacing faster than he could contain them.
He felt her hands clutch at him, a small reflexive movement. She tasted like honey, the stroke of her mouth like velvet beneath his. The scent of her—her bewitching body pressed against his—conjured heaven and hell.
It was too much for him, too much to expect him to let go of her. They'd sort out the details later. Now he needed the feel of Nora around him, beneath him, needed her more than air.
******
Chapter Five
He tasted of heat and sunshine and wicked, wonderful things. Nora leaned in for his kiss, the swirl of doubts and anxieties in her head dissipating with the rising tide of desire.
Her hands clutched at his broad shoulders, steadying her against the whirlwind of their kiss. Sensation shivered through her with the brush of his lips and she opened her mouth without hesitation, clung to him without thought. Nothing felt more natural than losing herself in the warm earthy scent of him.
She heard him murmur, a low hungry sound as he gathered her closer, lifting her up onto the porch until she lay against him.
This was a new thing, this sense of merging with a man until she wanted nothing but him. Nora trembled with the urgency of it, driven to hold the mating of their mouths.
He held her cradled in the crook of his arm, his damp, urgent mouth dropping to the curve of her neck, his hand cupping her hip to draw her closer.
Nora whimpered. Every part of her bloomed for him, aching for his touch. She moved against him, hunger thrumming in her. The sound of his ragged breathing mingled with the roar in her ears and she gasped as his hand trailed up her body to surround her breast. Bret took her mouth in a rough assault, the arc of his body hard against hers.
Kiss melted into kiss until Nora felt on fire, writhing against him and arching for his touch. His hand lingered on her breast, stroking her gently through her shirt until she could no longer think, craving the feel of him against her bare skin.
She lay back panting when he lifted from her mouth, his hands fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. When he brushed back the fabric, she trembled for the heat of his mouth against her. In a tangle of sleeves and arms, he did battle with the clasp of her bra until it came free, baring her to his touch.
Bret knelt above her, his face ablaze with desire, his hands stroking her flesh as if he'd found gold. He bent to nuzzle her, his breath hot and damp against her skin.
She lay on the porch, her hands caught in the tousle of his hair as he fondled and kissed her breasts. Each caress and suckle of his mouth drove her higher, tighter, hungrier.
In the back of her mind, caution cowered, held at bay by the ferocity of her need for him, the full, bright moment of fantasy come to life. And it was better-better than her dreams.
Yes, he was reckless, wild and undependable. But she'd been empty and cold for so long, had denied herself for so long.
Shifting, Bret knelt on the top step between her bent knees. He laved and suckled her breasts, his rock hard body inciting a riot of sensation despite the layers of clothes between them.
Dazed, Nora stared up at the ceiling of the porch, the cool air sharp against her heated skin. She felt herself moving against him, felt the thundering of her blood as she raced toward the cliff.
Her mind was a jumble, a frenzy of urgency. And yet, some part of her balked, pulled back on the reins.
This was Bret holding her in his arms, loving her like the devil's most proficient artisan. Reckless, risk-taking Bret, who'd never been true to one woman. How could she trust him? He was a man and, by nature, a fickle one.
He lifted from her breast, straining forward to capture her lips, his pelvis rocking against hers. Nora's mind disappeared in an explosion of fireworks, rivulets of pleasure showering her. The snap on her jeans popped free beneath his searching hands.
Nora bolted upright, her movement sending Bret rocking back on his heels.
"No," she gasped, groping for her discarded bra. Balanced on the porch steps in front of her, Bret's breathing was labored, his hand outstretched as if to steady her.
''I'm sorry," she babbled. "I…we, I let it go too far."
"Hold on, sweetheart," he managed, his voice still rough with passion.
Nora fought the tears welling in her eyes as she awkwardly scrambled into her clothes. She'd never felt lower, never been so ashamed of herself. It was bad enough to allow herself to be this foolish, but to lead Bret on and then to stop him made her feel like a tease. She fumbled with her shirt. ''I'm sorry."
"Nora, honey." He slid onto the porch next to her, tugging her into his arms. "It's okay, sweetheart. Nothing happened."
"This is nuts. I should never have let you kiss me. I didn't mean to ... tease." She wrenched herself out of his arms, unwilling to be in such tempting proximity.
"Honey, don't give yourself grief." Humor laced his voice as he gave her a crooked smile. ''I'm always hotter than a tamale when you're around."
"I didn't mean to let things get so carried away," she said again, struggling to tuck in her shirt.
"Well, there's where you're better than I am," Bret confessed. "I've been meaning to get carried away with you for a long time."
She glanced up at him, profoundly disturbed by the glow in his eyes. "It's not a good idea."
He held her gaze, his dark eyes smoldering as he said softly, "Seemed pretty damn good to me."
Nora looked away, her heart rate revving irresponsibly. How could he look so desirable, kiss her like she was the only woman on the earth ... and still be such a man? Unreliable, intrinsically dishonest, incapable of putting a woman's needs before his own.
But it wasn't his fault he had the Y chromosome.
Finally, she said, "—I don't need any complications."
His smile faded. "Is that what this is? A complication?"
The words sounded gentle, but she couldn't read his face.
Nora got up from the porch, thrusting suddenly nervous hands into her jeans pockets. "I've got plans that will require all my energy. I can't afford to get...distracted."
"Distracted," Bret repeated the word as he leaned back, his elbows propped on the top step.
She looked away from the disturbing stretch of his taut, muscled body. 'I’m not going to deny that I find you very attractive. It's just that right now--"
"—you can't be bothered with love," he concluded, an edge in his voice.
"No. I can't." She turned to face him. "All my life I've tried to do right by people, to be responsible and fair. You might have noticed it hasn't gotten me far. Now, I'm putting my dreams first. I just don't have the energy for a man."
Bret looked at her, his emotions shut out of his normally open expression. "So even though you like me and I like you, you don't want to take this any further because kissing me takes too much energy?"
"It's more than kissing," she said, forcing the words out through a tight throat.
Bret got up from the porch, dusting off his jeans. "This isn't about your plans for the riding school. It's about Richard. You're scared of getting hurt again."
"Thank you, Dr. Freud," she said sarcastically, fighting off a wave of anger, sadness and frustration all mixed together. "I suppose I should just sleep with you for the hell of it."
He walked to where she stood, stopping inches away. She met his gaze without flinching.
"What I think," Bret said softly, "is that you've never really loved a man or let him love you. This thing with Richard bruised your pride and sent you home with your tail between your legs. I think you're running scared, Nora."
"And sex with you would prove something?" she demanded angrily. "Hot, torrid sex would cure my problem?"
"I don't know," he said, turning toward their horses, "but you've got to give your heart to someone if you're ever going to meet life halfway."
"Leaning on a man got me into the situation I'm in," Nora declared, determined not to let
herself cry. "Now I have to make my own way, my own life. I don't have any other choice."
"You always have a choice," Bret said, meaningfully. "There's no situation that can't be finagled if you work it right. Love isn't the enemy. Fear is."
Watching him turn and walk away, Nora fought against the jumbled mess in her mind. She'd been very clear on it all, ever since leaving Dallas. If you put too much reliance on a man, you'd live to regret it. But now with Bret's words spinning in her head, she felt like she'd stepped into an alternate universe.
You've never really loved a man.... Hadn't she loved Richard? And what the heck was Bret up to? Men who just wanted a quick tumble didn't usually talk about love.
"Of course I'm not going to the Boys' Home Benefit," Nora declared. "Why on earth would I want to go to anything sponsored by the Riding Club? The worst gossips in town are on the Board."
Facing her friend Eve, Nora crossed her arms, determined not to allow her attention to stray toward where Bret was standing nearby. Even so, her peripheral vision faithfully responded his every movement as he lifted the saddle from his horse's back, the flex of his muscles evident through his shirt.
"Everyone goes to the benefit," Eve said, picking up a piece of paper that had drifted out of Jessica's open backpack.
"Here's your hat, Jess," Nora said, as the child trooped past on the way to her mother's car, her arms loaded with her backpack, sneakers and baseball mitt.
"I just think you ought to go," Eve persisted. "You don't have anything to hide. The gossip seems to be dying down...despite your indiscretion."
"The benefit is the same every year," Nora retorted, ignoring Eve's comment. "Bad barbecue, Lex Martin's Rough Rider Orchestra and, this year, too many people who hate me. I can't see any reason why I should go."
"I can." Bret entered the conversation without preamble. "You should go to promote your business. If you're going to make your riding school work, you have to advertise it."