Expecting...in Texas

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Expecting...in Texas Page 9

by Ferrarella, Marie


  She’d come from money and knew firsthand that it didn’t buy happiness. Happiness was a gift.

  Do better? How could you do any better than to marry the person you loved?

  Cruz wasn’t at the corral where she normally saw him. The enclosure was empty. Disappointment bit into her as she looked helplessly around.

  “Are you looking for someone?”

  She turned around to see Ruben approaching her. His smile was gentle, kind. With very little imagination, she could see him as the father she’d always wanted.

  “I’m looking for Cruz—”

  Ruben shook his head apologetically. “He’s not here. He’s training the horse in the meadow today. To see how he does without confinements.”

  Murphy’s law, she thought, frustrated. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  “Not until much later. I could send one of the hands to get him—”

  No, she didn’t want to make Cruz feel as if she was summoning him. He already misunderstood too much. “No, that’s all right. It can wait.” Turning, she began walking away.

  “I’ll let him know you were looking for him,” he called after her.

  “Thank you.”

  Savannah banked down her impatience. She wanted to ride out to Cruz, but there was her own work to see to. She wasn’t about to take advantage of the Fortunes by being lax. She knew they probably wouldn’t mind, but she would. So she went back to the house, to the office on the first floor, and did her work. Or tried to.

  Every so often, she caught herself gazing out the window, but Cruz never returned. His father was right. Apparently, Cruz was gone for the day.

  Maggie’s words ringing in her ears, Savannah grew more restless as the day progressed.

  How could he possibly have thought that she drew some sort of caste line between them? That she had refused his proposal because she thought herself better than him?

  Just how stupid was this man? Couldn’t he tell how she felt? That he made her weak in the knees. That waking up each morning with him beside her was something she held as an unattainable dream? That she was in anguish because she had to turn him down, even though she had it in her power to make her dream come true, at least physically?

  But it was emotional, not physical, commitment she wanted. She wanted Cruz to love her first, then propose—not marry her out of some sense of duty and honor. Duty and honor were all well and good for a soldier, but not for a husband. At least, not as a primary motive for marriage.

  She wanted him to be as crazy about her as…well, as she was about him.

  She sighed. Okay, it was out, if only in her own mind. She was crazy about him. In love with him. So much in love that she was afraid even to acknowledge it for fear that she’d disintegrate under its heat.

  Damn it, he should be grateful to her for being so stupidly noble when another woman would…

  Eventually, another woman would, she thought sadly. Blinking back tears, Savannah turned from the computer screen. Another woman would grace his bed, bear his children, hear the words that she wanted to hear.

  Another woman, but not her.

  “That’s right, make yourself nuts,” she muttered accusingly to herself.

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  Swiveling around in her chair, Savannah saw Vanessa looking at her as she walked in, a bemused smile on her lips.

  “I don’t, it’s just that—” Sighing, she shook her head. It was far too complicated to explain, and she was tired. “Never mind.”

  Vanessa didn’t press Savannah for an explanation. “Devin and I just wanted to ask you if you’d like to come out with us for dinner. There isn’t going to be anyone home tonight, and I didn’t want you to be alone.”

  Perfect, Savannah thought. There’d be no one to question where she’d been if she rode out to see Cruz. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just have a sandwich here, thanks.”

  Vanessa frowned. “When I hired you, I didn’t want you to think I did so with intentions of chaining you to the desk.”

  “No chaining,” Savannah assured her. “I like working.”

  “You never did listen to anyone.” Vanessa looked at her watch. “Well, Devin’s waiting. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Savannah nodded, debating whether or not to say anything. But if she couldn’t trust Vanessa, who could she trust?

  “Vanessa?”

  At the door, her friend stopped to look at her. “Yes?”

  “Do you know where Cruz is?” she asked innocently. “I haven’t seen him all day—”

  “He’s probably gone to his cabin by now.”

  “His cabin?” For some reason, she’d thought he lived in his parents’ house.

  Vanessa nodded. “He has his own place not too far from Rosita and Ruben’s house. Just due south of here. Maybe about five miles. Maybe less.” Thunder rumbled. “We’d better get going if we want to reach town before the storm breaks. I hate driving on these roads in the rain.” She touched Savannah’s face. “Anything you want me to bring back?”

  Savannah made a face. “If you value our friendship, don’t talk about food.”

  “Sorry.”

  Savannah heard Vanessa laugh as she hurried away down the hall.

  Nine

  The next ten minutes felt as if they were being dragged by on a wagon with square wheels. Containing her impatience, Savannah waited for about ten minutes in her office. She didn’t want to run into Vanessa and then have to explain where she was going.

  It was just something she knew she had to do if she were ever to be at peace again.

  When she was fairly certain that she would safely avoid contact with anyone who felt entitled to ask questions, Savannah hurried to the stables. Pixie Dust was in her stall, put away for the night. Ryan had made a point of letting her know that the horse was hers to use for as long as she remained on the ranch. It made Savannah feel less of an outsider, more like a member of the family. It helped, belonging.

  She thought of Cruz. How long had he felt like an outsider, like someone just looking in? Her heart went out to him.

  Although some of the others on the ranch used a Jeep to get around, she found riding a horse preferable in these surroundings. And she already dearly loved Pixie Dust.

  “I know you thought you were in for the day, and I’m sorry to have to take you out on such a gloomy night,” she murmured as she saddled the horse. “But this’ll just take a little while, I promise. Less, if I lose my nerve and turn back.”

  Clouds dipped in soot lined the sky as she led the mare out. And the sky grew darker and more ominous as she rode in the direction of Cruz’s cabin. Never having been there, Savannah was relying solely on Vanessa’s nebulous directions that the cabin was due south of the main house.

  The sensible thing to do was to wait until morning. But she wasn’t feeling very sensible. She had to see Cruz, and it had to be tonight. The words were hot on her tongue and she wanted to say them before she lost her nerve. Things would only continue to grow worse between them until she cleared this up.

  Before she was halfway there, it started to pour.

  The rain didn’t bother him, but Cruz was concerned about the effect the storm would have on Quicksilver, the stallion he’d been training these past few weeks. The animal was already skittish. Cruz’s own horse was well trained to take sudden loud noises in stride, but Quicksilver hadn’t come that far yet. This could be a setback.

  The weather had changed suddenly, bringing with it the promise of a storm. Now he wished he hadn’t remained in the meadow so long. But he and Quicksilver had finally begun to bond, and he hadn’t wanted to stop. Bonding was the first really strong step in mastering a horse, and he knew from experience that it was an elusive thing that needed to be strengthened once it materialized.

  Cruz rode quickly to the stables, anxious to get the horse in before the storm broke.

  “It’s okay, Silver. It’s only noise, nothing else.” The soothing tone of his voice
helped keep the animal calm.

  Hellfire pawed the ground, obviously not happy about having to stand around and wait while Cruz tended to the other horse. Cruz smiled to himself. The animals were behaving just like jealous women.

  He thought of his own reaction to Dallas when the man had been dancing with Savannah. Maybe the emotion wasn’t restricted to women, he mused.

  “I’m going as fast as I can. Your turn will come,” he told Hellfire.

  With long, even strokes, he groomed the gray’s coat until he was certain that the animal was at peace and that none of the headway they’d made today was undone by the whimsy of weather.

  Satisfied he’d done all he could, Cruz led Hellfire back out into the rain. “Sorry, can’t be helped. If it makes you feel any better, I’m getting wetter than you are.”

  Swinging into the saddle, he turned the stallion south and headed for home.

  From a distance, he saw what looked like a glimmer of light coming from his cabin as he approached it. Cruz wondered if it was some trick being played by the rain. Was he imagining lights in the windows? He didn’t remember leaving any on when he left early this morning.

  Rather than stopping to investigate, he guided Hellfire toward the stable. By now, Cruz was soaked to the skin and bone-tired, but he had to tend to the horse before he could see about anything else.

  Maybe he’d sleep tonight, he thought. It would be a relief if he finally could. He hadn’t last night, or any of the nights before. At least, not more than an hour or two at a time. He couldn’t go on like that indefinitely.

  Dismounting at the stable doors, he pushed one open and led Hellfire in. “Bet you’re glad today is over,” he murmured to his horse. “Me, too.”

  And then he stopped.

  Pixie Dust was in the stall that Hellfire normally occupied.

  What the hell was the mare doing here? Cruz glanced toward the cabin behind him. So the light hadn’t been his imagination.

  “Looks like we have company, boy.”

  Banking down the urge to rush into the house and see if she was really there, Cruz forced himself to take care of Hellfire first. It was only fair.

  Besides, he reasoned, he needed the time to pull himself together.

  When the front door finally opened, Savannah jumped and stifled a gasp. She’d been waiting for Cruz for over an hour now, fidgeting as she intently watched the door. Wondering if maybe she was acting rashly and should leave. Her reaction to his entrance showed her just how close to the surface her nerves were, and what state they were in.

  Not good.

  She pressed her lips together. Everything she’d come to say, everything she’d diligently rehearsed on the way over here, flew out of her head the instant Cruz walked in.

  Savannah looked at the puddle of water that was forming around his boots. “You’re all wet.”

  His face impassive, Cruz shed his jacket, leaving it on the back of a chair. He threw his hat on top of it. Rain clung to the front of his hair.

  “Happens when it’s raining.” His eyes slid over her impersonally, and Savannah felt a pang deep in her heart. “What are you doing here?”

  His tone was cold. Savannah pushed on, anyway. “I thought we should talk.”

  He dragged his hand through his dark hair. Drops scattered in the wake of his fingers. “I thought we already had.”

  “Not enough, apparently.” Flustered, she laced her fingers together and told herself that she was an adult, a woman, not a child fumbling with a speech in front of her classroom. It didn’t help. “I talked to Maggie this morning.”

  “Oh?”

  His brow raised dangerously as he pulled off his boots and set them to the side. Like everything else, they were soaked through. He was going to have to polish them if he didn’t want them to be ruined, he thought, his mind bouncing around, touching everything but the woman who was standing in his living room. He didn’t want to think about her, had worked very hard not to think about her all day.

  He could think of nothing else.

  Savannah tried again. “She said something…” Her voice trailed off as she searched for the right words—the ones she’d lost the moment he’d walked in, looking bigger than life and handsomer than any living man had a right to be.

  Cruz gave a careless half shrug. “Maggie is always saying something.” Pulling his shirttails out of his jeans, he began unbuttoning his shirt, completely ignoring her presence.

  Savannah tried again, and found herself faltering. She just couldn’t think right now—not when he was taking his shirt off.

  Frustrated at her own inability to concentrate, Savannah sighed. “Would you not do that, please?”

  He separated the last button from its hole and stared at her. His shirt hung open, framing a chest that was well muscled and hard. “Do what?”

  “Get undressed while I’m talking to you.”

  He paused only a moment. “This is my cabin, and as you pointed out, I’m all wet. I’d like to get all dry.” To prove it, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. It landed on top of his hat.

  “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, coming here.” As a matter of fact, it was probably one of the worst ideas she’d ever had.

  “Maybe it wasn’t,” he agreed. He didn’t want her here. Didn’t want Savannah intruding into his life any more than she already had. She didn’t belong in his life. In his head.

  But she was there.

  And here.

  Cruz watched in silence as Savannah walked to the door. But just as she placed her hand on the doorknob, there was a quick flash that illuminated the room as if it were day. Almost immediately, another rumble of thunder, louder and more fierce than the last, shook the cabin. The center of the storm was on top of them.

  He didn’t like thinking of her out on a night like this. “Maybe you’d better wait out the storm.”

  Angry, hurt, upset, all she wanted to do was get away from him, if not the pain. Refusing to look at Cruz, she squared her shoulders, trying to sound as disinterested as he had.

  “Don’t tell me what I should do,” she snapped.

  “Look, it’s raining hard out there. I just thought you’d be better off waiting and not getting wet. But go ahead, do what you want.”

  “I fully intend to.”

  But when she opened the door, another rumble of thunder echoed, merging with the bolt of lightning that creased the sky less than a moment earlier. Like the center of a fire, everything blazed brightly for a single moment before being cast into darkness.

  The lights in the cabin went out.

  A velvet darkness embraced everything, without and within. Savannah shut the door again. She couldn’t see an inch in front of her. It was like being in an abyss.

  “Damn.” The oath was ripe and vehement as it left Cruz’s lips. “The power went out,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  She hated the dark. She always had. “Will it go back on?”

  “In the big house, yes. They’ve got an emergency generator. I don’t.”

  Turning, Cruz took careful steps toward where he assumed the fireplace was. But instead, he found himself walking into something soft. Belatedly, he realized Savannah must have moved. Because of the impact, he reached for her to keep her from being thrown off balance. His hands brushed against her breasts as he grabbed her shoulders.

  “Sorry.”

  Thin currents of electricity shot through her. “My fault,” she murmured.

  His chest was hard against hers. She could feel his heart beating. At least, she was fairly certain it was his heart. Hers had frozen in her chest.

  Slowly, the feel of his hands on her arms penetrated. She didn’t want to move out of the way. She wanted to remain just where she was, hiding behind the excuse the power failure had created.

  Cruz’s common sense, logic and instinct for survival all joined together and dictated that he back away and let her go. She wasn’t in any danger of falling. But he was.

  Yet Cruz
couldn’t help himself.

  All the tension, all the anger and longing he’d been feeling fused and surged through his veins, demanding release.

  He brought his mouth down on hers, hungry for her taste, for her sweetness. He wasn’t gentle.

  The air whooshed out of her lungs at the first hint of contact. It took her more than a minute to get her bearings, only to lose them all over again as the kiss deepened, taking her with it to a place she’d longed to go.

  Reactions came faster than thoughts. Delight urged her arms around his neck, her body to his. Savannah gave herself up to the moment, knowing it was wrong. Knowing it was probably all she would have. But she had to make the most of it. It was going to have to last for a very long time.

  He lingered just for a moment, absorbing the feel of her, his mouth slanting over hers with an intensity that would have surprised him if he’d been able to think. But he couldn’t.

  And then Cruz knew that if he didn’t let her go now, he wouldn’t be able to, whether he wanted to or not. He didn’t like being held prisoner by his own urges. He didn’t like not being in control.

  The struggle cost him.

  The victory cost more.

  Releasing her, Cruz slid his hands from Savannah’s waist. Reluctance marked every inch. “I’d better see about getting a fire going.”

  Her breath came in small snatches, like that of a woman who had just been saved from drowning. “I think you already have.”

  The muscles on his bare chest tightened as he felt her breath lightly swirling along his skin. Arousing him. “In the fireplace.”

  Her heart was pounding like the surf at the height of a hurricane. “I’d get out of your way, except I don’t know which way to move.”

  That, he thought, was just the trouble. There seemed to be no way to move her out of his way. Every way he turned, she seemed to be there.

  “Just stand still,” he told her. “I’ll do the rest.”

  Nervousness made her giddy, and Savannah laughed.

  In the dark, the sound was seductive, Cruz thought. He shook off its effects as, hands outstretched, he found his way to the fireplace. “What?”

 

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