People Will Talk

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People Will Talk Page 9

by Carol Rose


  Nora arched toward him, empty and yearning, her body calling out to his. He brushed a finger against her most sensitive spot, his movement agonizingly slow. The roar in her ears increased a notch, the blood pounded through her veins like flood tides.

  She reached for him, urging him forward.

  "Wait a sec, honey." His voice was strained as he got off the bed and rummaged in a drawer. "Damn." Slamming it shut, he pulled open another and heaved the contents onto the dresser.

  Propped on an elbow, Nora watched his search with a concerned anticipation that turned to relief when he pulled a dark square from the pile. Returning to the bed, Bret tore open the packet and swore to himself, fumbling to put on the condom.

  He slid between her legs, bending to kiss her again. Their tongues met as he slowly entered her body. Pleasure rippled through Nora. She bent her legs, her body welcoming him. Each movement brought a cascade of sensual bliss.

  They rocked together, locked in each other's arms, lost in their own private paradise. She felt the roar and sweep of her blood, the raging, driving rush of her heart. He was everything. Ecstasy.

  Taking him in, she stroked him with her body, cherished his rising excitement as they hurtled toward release, each pulse faster, each thrust harder. She felt rather than saw a sudden burst of light showering through every cell, and then a sensation of free fall as her body clenched around his.

  Dimly, she heard his hoarse cry, felt the spasming of his body as he joined her in the heavens.

  They drifted down together, clinging to one another with soft murmurings and touches.

  Stars still seemed to spin above Nora when she opened her eyes in the darkness, marveling at a moment that she knew had changed her forever.

  How could she have thought that making love to Bret just this once would satisfy her? And how was she ever going to keep her heart safe now?

  ******

  Chapter Seven

  Nora breathed in the warm, morning air as a Mockingbird warbled from a nearby bush. Her riding helmet swung loosely from her fingers as she crossed the parking area in front of the barn.

  The usual array of weathered vehicles there gave testimony to the size of Bret's ranching operation. Feeling strangely shy and excited at the same time, she noticed his truck parked near the barn and quickened her steps.

  To her own amazement, she had no regrets about the night before, even though she'd gone home to sleep alone. She'd never been closer to heaven than during those moments in his arms.

  As Nora entered the shade of the barn, a familiar high-pitched giggle made her steps falter. What was Cissy Burton doing here? Walking more slowly, Nora followed the sound of voices into the coolness of the barn, crossing to where the north door stood open. As she went, her ear recognized the lower tones mingled with Cissy's irritating voice.

  Stopping in the open doorway, Nora saw them. Bret stood by the corral gate, screwdriver in hand as he tinkered with the gate catch. Standing close enough to breathe the same air was Cissy Burton, encased in tight jeans and a skimpy knit top.

  "You're so handy," she said, giggling and smirking at him.

  "Yes, ma'am," he winked as he continued his work. "I have all kinds of talents."

  ''I'm glad Daddy finally got around to cleaning his office. Bringing back that report he borrowed from you gives me a good excuse to visit even if I do have to stop by four more ranches. He's terrible about borrowing things." She pouted prettily.

  Bret straightened, grinning as he shut and opened the gate latch to check his work. "You won't mind running your dad's errands. It'll just give you a chance to flirt with all the ranch hands around here, you wicked heartbreaker."

  Cissy giggled again. Bret's laughter joined hers, low and easy as he went on adjusting the gate.

  Nora stood in the doorway, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She'd known he was this way with women. Bret Maddock, the town risk-taker, horse race champion and heart slayer.

  She'd always known he was a flirt. Every woman in town knew that. Last night hadn't meant anything special to him, it was clear. That fact should have comforted her. She was the one who had wanted to avoid complications.

  But as she stood there watching him flirt with Cissy Burton, of all people, she wanted to throw up. Of course, his warm, flirtatious words meant nothing more than the bantering and sexual innuendo he shared with any willing, attractive woman.

  He'd never promised her anything, never told her he loved her, never said she meant more to him than a roll in the hay.

  That was how she wanted it, she reminded herself furiously. So why did she want to hurt him at this moment? God, she'd let him get to her, let him come to mean something. She'd made the stupid mistake she'd sworn never to make again.

  Nora took a step forward, and Bret's head turned toward her.

  "Nora." His smile welcomed her and she found herself struggling with an overwhelming impulse to smash his teeth in.

  Cissy glanced over, another smirk crossing her face. "That was some party you missed last night, Nora. Richard is a wonder on the dance floor," she finished , with satisfaction.

  Richard could have made love to Cissy on the floor of the VFW hall for all Nora cared. Not with her world splintering around her. Without saying a word, she turned away, blindly heading back into the barn.

  "Nora," Bret called. "I didn't know you had lessons today."

  She swiveled around automatically.

  "I don't have any," she spoke for the first time, her voice feeling rusty in her throat. ''I'm just taking Chessie out."

  "Hang on a minute and I'll go with you," he offered. "This gate is almost finished."

  Cissy glanced between the two of them, obviously unsure how to interpret the interchange.

  "No, thanks," Nora said stiffly. ''I'd rather ride alone." She spun on her heel and left the doorway.

  "My! How rude." Cissy's voice followed her.

  Bret said something to Cissy, his response too muffled to hear. Nora reached Chessie's stall and quickly saddled the mare.

  Absorbed in her need to get away and try to make sense of the emotions jumbling in her, Nora barely noticed footsteps echoing in the barn, followed by the revving of an engine. After securing Chessie's girth, she took the reins to lead the horse out of the barn.

  Bret stood in the opening. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," she said, glancing at him just long enough to register an uncertain expression on his face. A few more steps and she was outside, Chessie dancing beside her.

  With trembling hands, she mounted the horse and urged her away from the barn. Please don't come after me, she prayed.

  Almost unconsciously, she took the opposite direction from the way they'd ridden together. Her hurt was too fresh, her mind too confused to confront the sweet memories of that day, their passionate abandon on the porch of the Turner house.

  All around her, the air was fresh with birdsong and humming honey bees. Nora rode on sightlessly, oblivious to everything.

  What a fool she'd been. Was she doomed to be this way always? Unable to keep her heart safe? When would she stop handing her life over to other people, first to Richard and now-without even knowing it—to Bret.

  Setting Chessie on a path, Nora wrestled with memories. Bret had been right about one thing. She'd never really loved Richard. At the time it hadn't seemed liberating, but the debacle with Benton had set her free. If it weren't for him, she might not have realized how unsatisfying her life was.

  Sad to say, even with the gossip and hostility in Stoneburg, these past few months had been the best of her life. She was doing something she'd always wanted to do. And her student list was growing steadily, despite Cissy and Richard's mother.

  True, Nora still faced the hurdle of convincing Mrs. Turner to sell her the land. In all likelihood, that dream had been dealt a death blow last night. With her illustrious background, Mrs. Turner had a reputation to maintain. Why would she sell her family's homestead to a woman who caused such controversy?<
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  The greatest heartache was Bret, however. Nora had been fooling herself to think she could indulge her passion for him and not get burned. Like an idiot, she'd fallen in love.

  Surely, he'd never meant to earn her heart. He was a captivating man, ever willing to engage a woman's attention, but he never courted entanglement.

  Nora's chin lifted, her hands steady on Chessie's reins. Regardless of the mess she'd gotten her heart into, she had to take charge of the situation now. Working at the Maddock barn was no longer in her best interests. Seeing Bret every day and knowing he was spreading his charm around might just kill her.

  If she wanted the Turner property, she'd have to go after it. She had planned on waiting until she was in a better position to ask for a loan. But she needed to take a positive step right now. The damage of last night's confrontation with Richard was done. Waiting another week or two wouldn't change what had happened, and she might as well make Mrs. Turner an offer today.

  Shifting the reins, she turned Chessie back to the barn, determination giving her battered heart new hope. Trotting up to the barn, Nora noted with relief that Bret's attention was engaged with several men she didn't recognize.

  She dismounted and swiftly walked Chessie past the group. Despite keeping her eyes focused in front of her, Nora felt Bret's glance on her, almost a physical touch as she passed. With swift, economical movements, she rubbed the horse down and watered her. Ready to go, she buried her face in Chessie's mane. "Wish me luck, girl. I'm going to seek our fortunes."

  Chessie huffed, blowing softly against Nora's hand. Leaving the stall, Nora walked around the front of the barn toward her car. If she could get there without having to face Bret, she'd be all right.

  She'd have to talk to him eventually, but her feelings were too fresh to hide right now, and she'd probably burst into tears.

  "Nora!" he called as she darted past.

  "I can't talk now," she tossed back. Jumping into her car, she couldn't resist looking in the rearview mirror as she backed out.

  Wearing a perplexed frown, Bret watched her drive away.

  Nora's steps echoed on the porch of Jim Carlyle's office. She'd discovered weeks ago from Hoyt that Carlyle handled Mrs. Turner's financial affairs. Finding his office had been a snap in a town as small as Stoneburg.

  The wide, wrap-around porch of the converted house that served as Carlyle's office was empty save for the honey bees that buzzed in the bushes nearby. Nora pushed open the front door and found herself in a small parlor that appeared to be the reception area.

  On the other side of the room, a door stood open revealing an inner office where a man sat bent over a desk. Nora felt her pulse skittering nervously.

  Crossing the reception area, she paused by the open door and knocked hesitantly. A chair squeaked as the man stood up.

  "Come in," he invited her, his face open and friendly as he rounded his desk to usher her into the room. ''I'm afraid my secretary is running an errand. Can I help you with something?"

  "Are you Jim Carlyle?" Nora tried to keep her voice businesslike. He looked familiar, but she couldn't be sure if they'd gone to school together. The years changed people.

  "I certainly am," he beamed as he offered her a chair across the desk. "Please sit down."

  As he returned to his seat, Nora had a moment to study him. She'd been expecting someone different, more polished perhaps. Jim Carlyle looked like a hundred other small town guys. A receding hairline topped his friendly face, and he wore a western-style plaid shin beneath a corduroy blazer.

  Nora felt her tension ease a little. The jumble on his desk held family photos, a smiling wife and kids. A dusty shelf behind his desk held a framed championship rodeo belt buckle.

  She'd never seen one framed before, nor could she quite imagine him doing anything as adventurous as rodeoing. Still, his office seemed as open and above-board as he did.

  "Now, how can I help you?"

  Her heart rate picked up again. "I'm Nora Hampton," she said baldly, hating that she tensed for his reaction.

  "Oh, uh...yes." Jim Carlyle cleared his throat.

  "How can I help you, Miss Hampton?"

  "I understand you handle Mrs. Sara Turner's business affairs." Nora made herself meet his gaze calmly. She was here to make him an offer, not to try to sell him a vacuum cleaner.

  "Yes, I do." He looked puzzled, but still friendly. Taking a breath, she forged forward. "Well, I'm interested in buying some property she owns—the old Turner homestead?"

  "Umm, yes." Jim hesitated, clearly taken by surprise. "As far as I'm aware, that property hasn't been put on the market."

  "I know that," Nora sat forward in her chair, "but I’m prepared to make Mrs. Turner a fair offer on the property, taking into consideration the condition of the land and buildings."

  "Surely," he nodded. "Well, ah, I'll be happy to pass your offer along to Mrs. Turner if you bring me a formal contract."

  Relief flooded her. He hadn't immediately dismissed her! She half expected him to bodily throw her from his office for her presumption. Standing up on shaky knees, she said, "Thank you. I'll have it back to you within a week."

  “Certainly, certainly.” Jim Carlyle rose with her.

  Thirty seconds later, Nora bounded down the steps to her car, elated that she'd taken a significant step toward her goal.

  She might have foolishly lost her heart to Bret in the last few weeks, but she could still salvage her dreams. Hopefully, focusing on the academy would ease her heartbreak.

  "Please, please, Ms. Hampton. I'm just dying to learn how to jump," Kaybeth pleaded.

  Nora considered the bright, youthful face looking up at her. "If you concentrate on your groundwork at our next lesson, we'll talk about jumping."

  Kaybeth let out a whoop of joy.

  "Remember what I said," Nora warned, as Kaybeth turned toward the barn, her hand on her horse's reins.

  "I will," the girl promised, picking her way around a puddle of water left over from last night's rainstorm.

  Nora's gaze followed the small figure as she headed toward the barn. Then she saw Bret, leaning on the corral fence, one boot propped on the crosspiece. His eyes met hers steadily.

  A flush seemed to suffuse her body, the memory of tangled sheets and lovers' words flooding her mind.

  The confrontation was unavoidable. They hadn't really spoken since the night at his cabin. Fortunately, she'd had some time to come to terms with her feelings.

  She was an idiot. He was a typical irresponsible male, and she couldn't help loving him.

  Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans, she crossed the corral to where he stood. Caution told her to avoid him, cut off any interaction and bury herself in her work. But she knew that they would have to meet sometime.

  "So am I still being punished for fraternizing with the enemy?" A faint smile hovered on his face, the tiniest hint of challenge in his eyes.

  He had to mean Cissy. Nora shook her head.

  "What were you mad about?"

  "I'm not mad." She lifted her chin and decided to change the subject. "I went and talked to the guy that handles Mrs. Turner's business. I'm making a formal offer for the land."

  Something unreadable flickered in his eyes and was gone. "So soon? You think that's a good idea?"

  "Yes. I can't wait around for this town to forgive me for something I didn't do," Nora declared with a snap.

  A smile curled his mouth. "Attagirl." he approved.

  Nora looked down, scuffing the toe of her boot in the damp ground as warmth flooded over her. His approval felt better than it should to a woman determined to regain her heart.

  "Don't get too excited," she recommended. "I don't have her agreement to sell."

  “Of course not, but it's a big step, taking on massive debt. Keep your eye on that bottom line,"' he encouraged, his eyes dancing.

  She couldn't help but smile back at him, the insidious warmth he provoked melting her bones. Just his presence made th
e day seem more glorious, the air more invigorating.

  "How about going for a ride?" he asked. "You owe me one."

  "No, I don't," she retorted immediately.

  "But you'll come with me, anyway?" he wheedled.

  Hesitating, she looked away from his handsome countenance, battling her own urges with disgust. When would she learn?

  "Okay," Nora agreed after a moment. She'd already lost her heart to him. How much more damage could one ride do?

  Minutes later, she clutched the seat of Bret's banged-up jeep as they bounced over a cow pasture. "I had something different in mind when you mentioned riding," she called out over the roar of the engine.

  Bret flashed her a grin. "This is just the beginning. You look like a woman who would enjoy a few loop-the-loops.”

  "What?" Nora grabbed at her seat as they jounced over another rocky mound, her teeth nearly rattling in her head.

  "You'll see," he promised with a wicked laugh. They bounced over two more pastures, careening over the uneven surface at daredevil speed, the wind whipping Nora's hair into tangles.

  Topping a rise, they coasted to a stop at yet another pasture, this one bare of cattle and flatter than the others. At one end of the field sat a small aircraft, its slender wings glinting in the sun.

  Bret killed the Jeep's engine. "Welcome to my world."

  Sweeping her hair out of her eyes, Nora surveyed the scene. "We're not really gonna do 'loop-the-loops,' are we?"

  His laugh was low as he pulled her into a fierce hug. "I knew you were game."

  Nora rocked back in her seat as he let her go, her senses still spinning from the rush of pleasure at being in his arms. "Wait a minute," she protested, realizing he was out of the Jeep and halfway over to the plane. "What exactly am I game for?"

  Bret just kept walking.

  Untangling her feet from a loose rope in the floor board, she got out and followed him across to the plane.

  "I didn't know you had your own runway out here."

  Bret snorted. "This is a pasture that works as a runway in certain seasons. I'll be moving the plane to an airfield soon. When the spring storms come, this place will be a pig wallow."

 

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