by Joan Wolf
“Oh,” said Caroline softly. “Aren’t they darling.”
They watched the mother as she nuzzled and licked and groomed them. Then Caroline lifted her face to Jay. “There’s something about babies— all babies—that just melts you inside,” she said in her low husky voice.
For a minute he looked back at her, his eyes almost black in the dimness of the loft. Then— “Caroline,” he groaned and reached for her.
She tried to resist, remembering last night, her hands braced against his chest to push him away. But though his mouth was hard on hers, it was the urgency of passion and not of anger. His hands were on her back, pulling her toward him, and after a minute her arms slid up to circle his neck and her lips opened under the pressure of his. The scent of the hay and the masculine smell of his flesh and hair were in her nostrils. The length of her body was pressed against his, and she could feel his kisses all the way down in her stomach.
His mouth withdrew, and she stared up into his face, into narrowed, slitted eyes of midnight blue. He put his hands on her waist and gently pulled her down with him to the hay.
Caroline went. She was a little afraid of what she had seen in his face, but her will to deny him seemed to have evaporated. He began to unbutton her shirt.
“Jay,” she said, huskily, uncertainly.
“You’re so beautiful, Cara,” he muttered. “Christ, you’re so beautiful.” He leaned over her, silencing her mouth with his own. His hard body crushed hers down into the hay.
Caroline lost all sense of place and time. He was kissing her bared breasts, and she felt the rising throb of desire growing in her. She wanted him, she wanted to take off her clothes for him, wanted to please him. Her hands slid up under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his bare back under her palms.
“Jay!” The loud voice right below them shocked them both. After a minute Jay released her and sat back on his heels. He raised a shaking hand to push the hair off his forehead.
“Jay! You in here?” The voice was coming closer to the ladder.
“Yeah, I’m here!” Jay called. “I was just showing Caroline the kittens. What do you want, Hank?”
Caroline was acutely aware of the picture she presented, her long hair filled with straw, her shirt opened, her bra unhooked. She sat up and started to reassemble herself.
Jay had tucked in his shirt and gone to stand at the top of the ladder. Caroline could hear the two men’s voices, but for some reason the words made no sense to her. She was trembling convulsively. She had never felt desire like that in her life.
There was the sound of spurs as Hank Rogers strode away, and Jay came back across the loft to meet her. She jumped to her feet and backed up a little as he approached.
“He won’t come back,” he said.
But Caroline shook her head. “No more, Jay. Please.” She slipped past him and hurried to the ladder. He made no attempt to stop her, nor did he say anything more. Caroline almost ran all the way to the house.
* * * *
Dinner that evening was a strained occasion. Jay scarcely spoke, and Caroline had to struggle to keep from looking at him, at the absurdly shiny thick hair that hung long to the collar of his shirt and had a habit of falling across his forehead; at the sinewy brown hands whose caresses she remembered all too vividly; at the beautiful mouth.... “So, Joe,” she said heartily, “I saw your stallion today.”
“What did you think of him?” the rancher asked, and for the remainder of the meal Caroline recounted the story of her ride. It lasted until dessert. Then Jay pushed back his chair.
“I don’t want any cake, Ellen, thank you,” he said. “I’ve got to drive down to see Hank about something.”
“Not want any cake!” Ellen said in astonishment.
“You saw Hank only an hour ago,” Joe expostulated.
“See you later,” said his son and left.
He came back at ten o’clock, and as he walked in the living room Caroline rose. “Well, I’m for bed. All of this healthy air is utterly exhausting.”
Joe chuckled. “It’s good for you. You’ve got roses in your cheeks.”
Caroline smiled, kissed the older man, said, “Goodnight, Jay,” and beat a hasty retreat up the stairs. She read for a while and then turned out her light. But sleep wouldn’t come.
The afternoon’s scene between herself and Jay kept replaying itself over and over in her mind. The more she tried to banish it from her memory the more intrusive it became. It was not an episode she was particularly proud of. She knew that if Hank hadn’t interrupted them when he did, she would have let Jay take her—right there on the floor of the hayloft. It was humiliating but true. The reaction she had to her stepbrother was something that seemed to be beyond her own control.
It was something that had never happened to her before, this intense physical attraction to a man. It worried her and upset her. She didn’t even approve of Jay Hamilton, she thought in confusion. And he most certainly did not approve of her.
He wanted her, though. He was as physically aware of her as she was of him. He might not like her, but he would like very much to get her into bed with him. Caroline would like it too, but, unfortunately, she did not believe in sex without commitment. And she just couldn’t fool herself into thinking that there was anything between herself and her stepbrother but sex. Caroline’s morals, though certainly not orthodox, were deeply ingrained. She could not go to bed with Jay simply to get him out of her system.
“Damn,” she said aloud. She was finding it impossible to go to sleep and decided to try some hot milk.
She went down the stairs quietly in the dark and was surprised to see a light coming from the kitchen. Was Ellen up? She walked in the kitchen door and saw Jay. He was leaning against the sink, a glass of milk in his hands. He was still wearing the jeans and shirt he had had on at dinner. He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him. “What’s the matter?” Caroline asked innocently. “Couldn’t you sleep?”
He gave her a sour look and took another drink of milk. Quite suddenly the humor of the situation struck her and she began to laugh. “Got any extra?” she asked after she had gotten her breath back.
He looked at her mischievous face, and unwillingly the corners of his mouth twitched. “It doesn’t do any good.”
“Oh dear,” said Caroline. “All the novels recommend it. Perhaps we should try heating it up.”
“We could try finishing what we started this afternoon,” he said. His eyes were darkly brooding on her face. “We’d both sleep better then, I bet.”
In spite of all that had happened, Caroline was not prepared for the stab of desire that went through her at his words, his look. “I don’t think so,” she said after a tense pause.
“Why not? You want it as much as I do.”
She did, of course. That was what was so hellish. She cleared her throat and tried to speak firmly. “I only go to bed with men I’m engaged to,” she said. “And you don’t qualify.”
He put his glass down on the counter. She had come into the kitchen and was standing about seven steps away from him. His blue eyes were still intent on her face, and the look in those eyes was enough to make her knees feel weak. He held out a hand. “Come here,” he said softly.
“No.” She shook her head and backed away.
“Cara ...” His voice was so soft, gentle and coaxing. The voice she heard him use to the animals, only deeper, more tender. She knew that if he touched her, she was lost. She had to put up a stronger defense.
“No, Jay.” Her husky voice sounded oddly in tune with his. “Just about the last thing I need at this moment is to wind up pregnant, and with my luck that is precisely what would happen. So stay away from me, will you please?”
As she finished speaking, his whole face seemed to change. The beautifully cut mouth thinned, and he stared at her out of eyes that were wide and blue and hard as diamonds. Then he said, with unforgivable deliberation, “I thought girls like you were always prepared for that c
ontingency.”
Caroline was as stunned as if he had smashed her across the face. She stared back at him for a minute in hurt and bewilderment, too shocked even to be angry. A hand went up before her, blindly, as if to ward off further attack. Then, without a word, she turned on her heel and left the room. Through the hum of blood in her ears and the blur of tears in her eyes she thought she heard him call her name. But she didn’t turn around, didn’t halt until she had reached the shelter of her bedroom. She flung herself down on her bed and tried to keep from crying. She couldn’t wait, she told herself fiercely, she couldn’t wait to get away from Wyoming and from Mr. Joseph Alan Hamilton, Jr. If she never saw him again in her whole life she would count herself a very lucky person.
Chapter Eight
Caroline finally drifted off into a troubled sleep and didn’t awaken until after eight the following morning. She deliberately stayed in bed for another hour to make sure Jay would not be around when she got up. The weather had finally broken, and the sky looked gray and cloudy when she peered out her bedroom window.
“Joe said he’d be back at ten,” Ellen told her as she ate some toast in the kitchen.
Caroline gave her a preoccupied smile and decided to get away from the house immediately. She was not up to Joe’s genial kindness at the moment. She went down to the barn, saddled up Dusty, and headed toward the mountains.
The day got progressively darker, and by noon Caroline was thinking she’d better get back to the ranch. She was sitting relaxed in the saddle, planning a phone call to Washington that would get her out of Wyoming tomorrow, when the first streak of lightning shot through the sky. Dusty reared and then bucked, and Caroline, completely unprepared, went over his head. She landed with her ankle bent and felt a flash of pain as sudden and stunning as the lightning had been. Dusty, panicked by the storm and by losing his rider, took to his heels at full gallop. Caroline was left behind, helpless on the ground.
The storm was terrifying. Great crashes of thunder roared over her head and echoed down the mountains. The lightning petrified her with its brilliance. She stayed in the open, stretched flat on the grass, as the cold rain pounded into her, soaking her clothes through to her skin. When the storm finally passed over she sat up, soaked and shivering, and tried to get to her feet. She couldn’t put any weight on her ankle; the pain was excruciating. With grim fortitude she managed to hop to the trees and after a few minutes she found a branch strong enough to use as a crutch. Dusty would go home, she thought, and someone would come looking for her. She had to get down to the dirt road the men drove the pickups over.
It took her forty minutes to cover the area to the road, and she made it by an act of sheer will. She collapsed on a rock by the roadside and bowed her head, afraid she was going to pass out with the pain. She was soaked through, and in spite of her exertions she was shivering convulsively with chill.
She had been sitting for twenty minutes when the pickup came along. When it stopped beside her and Jay got out she was conscious only of a rush of thankfulness. “Dusty came home without you,” he was saying in a strange, harsh voice. “What happened? Are you all right? You’re drenched.”
“I think I’ve sprained my ankle,” she said in a thin voice.
He came and knelt in front of her. “Let me see.”
He was very gentle, but even his light touch when he moved her foot was excruciating. Caroline’s eyes went black with pain and there was a white line around her mouth. “Is Dusty all right?” she managed to get out.
He said something under his breath as he looked at her ankle. Then, “Yes, he’s fine. In better shape than you are, I’d say.”
“Thank God for that. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. Stupid.” She was speaking rapidly. “I’m afraid if I try to walk to the car, I’ll faint. I almost didn’t make it to the road.”
“You won’t have to walk.” His voice was calm. “I’m going to carry you. Can you put your arms around my neck? Good. All right now, I’m going to lift you, Cara. Okay?” He was on his heels beside her, one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees. As she nodded mutely he rose slowly, taking her full weight in a smooth controlled movement. He walked with her to the pickup.
“You’re freezing,” he said. He could feel the convulsive shudders that were running through her. “All right, now, I’m going to put you down on the seat. I’ll be careful not to bang your ankle.” Caroline nodded, and very slowly, very carefully, he lifted her into the cab of the pickup and sat her on the front seat. Her foot just touched the floor, and she saw black spots in front of her eyes. When they cleared the first thing she saw was Jay’s face. He looked pale under his tan. “Christ,” he said.
She summoned up a rather shaky smile. “I’m okay, really.”
He came around the truck and got in behind the wheel. “Where were you when you fell?”
“About half a mile up there.” She gestured.
“You walked half a mile on that ankle?”
“Yes. I knew I had to get to the road.”
The shivering was becoming worse, and he began to unbutton his plaid flannel shirt. “Get that wet top off you,” he said. “You can have mine.”
She didn’t argue, and when her blue oxford shirt was unbuttoned he helped slide it off her shoulders. “That too,” he said impassively and unhooked her wet bra. Caroline was in too much pain to object and let him take that as well, baring her breasts to the cool air. But Jay put his shirt on her right away, and she buttoned it with unsteady fingers. It was warm from his body and felt soft and dry against her chilled flesh. “That’ll have to do until we get home,” he said and leaned forward to start the motor.
As if from a great distance Caroline noticed the ripple of muscles in his back and bare brown shoulders as he shifted gears and began to turn the pickup on the narrow dirt road. She felt every vibration of the motor in her ankle. She clenched her hands together until the knuckles were white with pressure. By the time they had gone ten minutes there was sweat on her forehead. She hadn’t made a sound, but Jay said, almost conversationally, “It shouldn’t be too much longer. Try not to faint. You don’t want to hit that ankle again.”
“I don’t think it’s broken,” she managed to get out.
“How do you know?”
“I checked it before it swelled up and I couldn’t see anything out of shape. And a simple break doesn’t feel like this. I’ve broken bones before.”
There was a pause, and then he began to talk. He talked about the ranch, about what it had been like to grow up there, about his first dog, his first horse. Caroline listened, his voice her lifeline on consciousness, hearing all he was saying without absorbing it. After what seemed an eternity they were pulling up to the ranch house. The door opened immediately and then Joe was coming down the steps. Jay turned to her and put a bracing hand on her shoulder. “All right,” he said in an extraordinarily gentle voice, “now you can faint.” And she did.
* * * *
Joe called the doctor in Sheridan, and he said they would have to bring Caroline in for X-rays. By this time her ankle was horribly swollen and discolored. Ellen had helped her get her wet dungarees off—she had had to slit them up the side of the injured foot—and Caroline was lying on her bed clad still in Jay’s shirt and a pair of warm-up pants of her own when the two men came in to see her. She could guess how she looked by the grimness of their mouths.
“I don’t have anything stronger than aspirin in the house, Caroline,” Joe said. He looked extremely worried.
“I have something,” she said exhaustedly. “In my case over there.” She pointed to the flowered makeup kit on the dresser. “Tylenol with codeine,” she said and closed her eyes. “Maybe that will help.”
Without a word Jay went over to the dresser and unzipped her bag. He found the small prescription bottle and read the label: “For menstrual pain—take as needed.” The prescription date was six months ago, and the bottle was full. He brought it over to the bed and said,
“Get a glass of water, will you, Dad?”
Joe left the room, and Caroline opened her eyes. “You haven’t used many of these,” Jay said neutrally.
“No. I try to get by without.”
He nodded without saying anything more, and when Joe came back with a glass of water Jay sat down on the bed next to her and put an arm under her to help her sit up. He held her braced against his shoulder and handed her a pill. She took it and drank some water. He handed her another and she took that too. He exchanged a glance with his father and handed her a third.
“No!” said Caroline. “Two is plenty, honestly.”
“It’s a long ride into Sheridan,” said Jay. “Don’t be a martyr. Take it.” And after a minute she did as he commanded.
They waited half an hour for the codeine to take effect and then put her in the back of the station wagon with her ankle cushioned against the bumps by pillows. Jay drove; the normally two-hour trip into Sheridan took almost three as he took extra care not to jolt Caroline unduly on the winding mountain roads.
They went immediately to the hospital emergency room, and Caroline was sent off for X-rays. The ankle was so badly swollen by now that to Caroline’s eyes it looked grotesque. But it was not broken.
“Caroline.” It was Joe’s voice, and she opened dark-smudged eyes. “The doctor is going to admit you to the hospital, honey. You can’t make a trip back to the ranch now. And they can give you something for the pain here. All right?” “Yes,” she whispered. “Fine.” “Do you want me to notify your father?” “Of course not. It’s only a sprain, Joe. I’ll be fine.”
“You will be. But you must stay off of that foot, young lady.” It was the doctor, and after him came Jay. The doctor was holding a hypodermic syringe.
Caroline eyed it nervously. “What’s that?” “Something for the pain.” The doctor picked up her arm, and her eyes went, automatically, to Jay.
“You need something, Caroline,” he said. His face looked impassive. “It’ll help you get some sleep.”