by Cherry Adair
The nursing home had eaten up his savings, throwing the ranch into receivership to pay off the rest of his debts. As far as anyone knew, he hadn't had contact with his son in years.
Lily couldn't imagine bearing a grudge that long. Sean hadn't wanted to talk about it, and at the time she'd imagined the hurt had been so deep he hadn't been capable of discussing it. Apparently Sean's bad habits and even worse behavior had started early.
"So you came to Montana and bought Vern's ranch. Did Sean contribute anything to the purchase?" Lily asked curiously. Sean had told her he had. That as soon as he left his father's spread he'd bought his own place in Texas and made a killing in the cattle market.
"No."
"I should have known." Why would Sean tell the truth about anything when he so clearly preferred the elaborate lie? Lily frowned. "Then why on earth did you allow him to tell everyone you worked for him'?" Sean bragged about his holdings, about how many head of cattle he ran, about his prize bull—he'd let Lily name Diablo, for heaven's sake!
"I wasn't around that much."
The fact that he had another ranch in Texas explained his many absences. "True."
"I figured if Sean wanted to play big man in Montana, what did it matter to me? We both knew the truth," Derek said in her ear, sounding as close as a breath.
It was considerably easier talking to Derek without seeing him. Lily bit her lip. Should she ask him about the bull-sperm sales now? Matt had made her promise not to talk to Derek about it until their investigator had more information. It made sense, she knew. But the bull belonged to Derek. Didn't he have a right to be apprised about what was happening?
Unless he was the one in charge of the illegal sales.
She wondered if the investigator had contacted Matt with any new information. Even now, Sean was making her responsible for cleaning up his messes. Knowing Sean's illegal scheme would have long-term legal and financial ramifications, she had a sudden, and surprising, fear that Derek would just wash his hands of the whole situation. She didn't want to confront the possibility of living without Derek in her life. How scary was that?
God. What a mess.
As far as she knew, the sperm sale was the last bit of Sean garbage she needed to clean up before she could go about the rest of her life. Derek was right. She'd been on "pause" for way too long.
"How do you feel about taking a long break when we get to Rainy Pass?" Derek asked, closing the gap between them just as the trail emptied out on a bushy plateau at the other end of Squaw Creek. They were required to take two eight-hour stops, and one twenty-four-hour stop. As impatient as Lily was to skip those rules, a) it wasn't permitted, and b) at a certain point her body would shut down if she didn't take all three of those lengthy mandatory rest stops. But until they reached the Yukon River it was too soon.
She glanced at Derek out of the corner of her eye as he came up alongside her team. He looked like a wild Cossack with his bulky coat and black fur hat, the earring winking as blue as his eyes in the sunlight.
"Four hours'll do me," Lily said absently as her stomach did a little flip-flop. With hunger, she told herself firmly, trying her damnedest not to think of how smooth and firm his lips had been when he'd kissed her as they'd balanced precariously on the cliff side. Or how hot he'd tasted. Or how her heart had hammered and her knees had gone weak when he'd ravished—and that was the only word for it—ravished her mouth.
Turning her attention back to the trail before she tipped over the sled while fantasizing about his mouth, she controlled the dogs as they smelled food and put on a burst of speed. They were all hungry. A nice long stop was just what the kids needed. And she could get a few solid hours of much needed sleep. The adrenaline rush had left her a little shaky and a lot exhausted.
The kiss had left her with the inability to concentrate. A couple of hours of oblivion would do her good.
"Don't let me hold you up," she said casually as they pulled left onto Puntilla Lake for the last stretch before reaching the lodge checkpoint up ahead.
"Nothing's going to hold me up, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle of amusement, clearly seeing through the cellophane for the puny shield it was. "I'm a man on a mission."
They checked in, then started a fire to heat the dogs' food, then took their bales of straw to a sheltered spot under the trees to spread for their animals. Derek smiled inwardly at how perfectly synchronized he and Lily were as they each performed their tasks and finished up at the same time.
There was one other team there already, the musher inside enjoying a late lunch, his dogs sleeping in the winter sunshine on their bed of straw.
Just as they finished up, two more teams pulled in.
"I want Matt to look at Dingbat's shoulder," Lily told him absently.
"Don't be long. Remember, you're a competitor out here, not a vet. Let Matt take care of the pack. You need to rest as much as they do."
"And I will," she said over her shoulder, wandering off to talk to her stepbrother, who'd already finished inspecting Derek's dogs. "Catch you later."
She had no idea how soon later would be. Derek stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat and strolled over to greet the two other teams as they pulled out of the check-in area.
"Glad to see you made it through the pass okay," he said easily, speaking to Don and Jeff. He scanned the people milling about. Was the shooter here? He kept an eye on Lily and Matt.
"Crap. As if getting through the Happy River steps wasn't hard enough," Don groused, jumping off the sled. "Were you the one who cleared the trail?"
Derek smiled as they shook hands. He didn't much like the guy, and although he always trusted his instincts, he knew that a good portion of his dislike was because Don had dated Lily briefly. Derek tried to see him as a woman might. He just looked like a ballplayer gone to fat to him, but a woman might find his Nordic look appealing. "Pretty much dumped its load on Lily," Derek told the men, "then cleared itself. I reported it when we checked in. You made it through okay?"
"Yeah. Is Lily all right?" Don glanced over to where she stood talking to several of the volunteers.
None of your damn business. "Shaken. But not a scratch."
"Thank God," Don said easily. "Man, I was buried in an avalanche a few years back when I was up here trainin'. Scared the hell outta me, I gotta tell you. Glad she wasn't hurt."
Lily could've been a lot more than hurt and all three men knew it.
Jeff shuddered. "I don't want to do that again in a hurry."
"Not until next year, anyway," Derek said with a smile. Mushers had notoriously short memories for the danger. It was the exhilaration of the race, and the challenge, they remembered year after year.
Don chuckled, rubbing a gloved hand across the back of his neck. "Man, I'd kill for a decent cup of coffee."
"I'm sure they're ready for us inside," Derek told him.
They chatted about the trail conditions for a few more minutes, and when the two men went into the lodge, Derek went to collect Lily.
She walked like a toddler—every step a conscious, wobbly effort. Balancing on a sled for hours on end made for some pretty tight thigh muscles.
"You're making good time," Matt commented as he knelt to examine the first in a line of energetic animals.
The checkpoint was in stark contrast to the hours spent on the trail. Memories of snow and solitude were lost in the bustling activity of busy volunteers and curious bystanders. Automatically, her head turned in the direction of the scent of coffee. As if predestined, her eyes found Derek in the crowd.
His profile was ruggedly handsome, more so when he offered an easy smile as he shook hands with a couple of the other competitors.
"Earth to Lily!" Matt called.
"The trip was…" She paused, realizing she didn't really want to rehash her misadventures on the route with Matt. "It was fine," she lied.
"You and Derek seem pretty evenly matched this year."
"I'm taking it easy on him," she returned wit
h a mischievous grin. "I don't want to humiliate him this early in the race. That would be unkind."
"God forbid you ever be unkind," Matt muttered.
"What does that mean?"
He shrugged as he ran his hands along a dog's leg, massaging the joints at the shoulder and knee. "I'm just worried about you. The last few years have been tough and I'd like to see you start to enjoy life again."
Lily gave him a startled look. "You, too?"
Matt cast her a sidelong glance. "Me, too?"
Lily frowned. "Derek accused me of the same thing this morning. Not true. I enjoy my life just fine. I have our practice, I have my dogs, I have friends—"
"You've forgotten how to enjoy yourself. Which is completely understandable," Matt added quickly. "You've had a very intense burden to carry, but maybe it's time to move on."
"I am moving on," Lily insisted, though her brain was suddenly racing in a zillion directions. Eventually, though, all points converged on the blatantly obvious. There was some truth to Matt's comments. Was her life that bland?
She tried to think of how she might describe herself to a stranger.
A vet? No, that's my job, not me as a person.
A widow? Nope, even worse. That means Sean gets to define who I am even in death.
Lily looked around the tented area, afraid for a minute she'd find people staring at her and pointing. Here she was in the wilds of Alaska having possibly the most important moment of self-realization of her life. It was like being in a bad Fellini movie.
"Something wrong?" Matt asked.
Yes! I don't know who I am anymore. She shook her head. "I'm whipped," she answered with a smile. "And I can, too, be unkind. Ask anyone who gets between me and a hot meal."
"Trail food doesn't stay with you long, huh?"
She glanced over and caught Derek's eyes for a second. "You have no idea how hungry you can get out there."
Ten
"There's a fire up ahead," Derek said in her ear. "Time for a few hours' rest for both us and the dogs. We're stopping."
Lily didn't protest his high-handedness. She was exhausted, and absolutely starving. "Fine with me."
They hailed the camp as they approached. Three teams were gathered beside a roaring fire in the shelter of the trees. The mushers rose to greet them, and the dogs loudly barked hello.
They knew Bob Thompson, but introduced themselves to the two mushers they didn't know, Stan and Dave, and then split up to do what had to be done so they could eat and get some shut-eye.
The snow was coming down a little more densely now. Lily took care of her dogs, then liberated Derek's, and spread their sleeping mats. Then started the paw inspection. Derek, she noticed, was setting up a small tent. It made sense. They were six hours from the next checkpoint, and the predicted snowstorm was making good its promise to dump a few inches on them tonight. Even for a few hours' rest, the shelter made sense.
"No point pitching two," Derek said, coming up behind her.
"Knowing you, you'll be out of here the second your eyes pop open. One will save time." He paused as if waiting for her to argue.
She didn't. "Okay."
She was too tired to argue something that made perfect sense. She'd crawl into her sleeping bag and be fast asleep before he was. And be up and gone before he was awake. Lily planned to get herself and her dogs up after four hours. In the meantime, spending a few hours in the relative comfort of his tent would be welcome. It wasn't big, and she knew it would be a tight fit. But she was an adult, not an adolescent. Derek was too clever to attempt to jump her bones just because they were both prone in a small space. And if he could keep his hands off her, she most certainly could do the same with him.
Once she was done tending the animals, Derek had their coffee and food heated and had spread a sleeping bag beside the warmth of the fire. By the time they sat down to eat another of Annie's wonderful homemade meals, several other teams had arrived, and a party atmosphere built as greetings were shouted over the ruckus of a hundred excited dogs barking and howling to one another. Once the animals were fed, they'd tuck their heads beneath their tails and be dead to the world, but for now it was a madhouse of sound.
The campsite was a hive of activity as everyone took care of their dogs before coming back to the fire. Five small tents were pitched on the lee side of a small hill under the shelter of towering pines. Gather a group of mushers on a cold night beside a fire and the party was on, even though it usually lasted only an hour so. Everyone was equally tired and needed their rest. But it was pleasant to talk about trail conditions and shared experiences.
Somehow Lily found herself leaning back against the solid strength of Derek's chest as she stared into the dancing red and gold flames of their fire. Letting the conversation ebb and flow around her, she leaned her heavy head against him, finding a perfect spot in the curve of his shoulder as, only half awake, she listened to the conversation.
Barb had had a run-in with a moose just that morning, and between her and Derek exaggerating their stories, there was much laughter and teasing before everyone trundled off to their respective sleeping bags with full tummies and smiles on their faces. Lily closed her gritty eyes and let the firelight play on her lids.
"Ready for bed?" Derek asked softly, brushing bare fingers against her cheek in a warm caress.
Lily was too sleepy to move. "Hmm," she answered noncommittally. The sweet sound of a harmonica drifted over the chilly darkness. Holding her so she didn't fall over, Derek rose, then reached down and took her hands to pull her to her feet. Without missing a beat, he drew her body flush to his. There were too many bulky layers to feel anything but safe. Lily looked up at him. "What are you doing?" she whispered when he didn't release her.
"Enjoying a quiet moment with you." He tucked her head against his chest and started moving his feet.
Lily had to hold on to him and follow suit or stumble. His clothes smelled of wood smoke and damp leather. Lily turned her head to rest her cheek against his chest, and let her eyes drift closed, just savoring the moment. "We have quiet all day long." Her voice was muffled against his chest.
"Not like this. Not when I can hold you."
She realized they were dancing slowly. In the dark. Softly falling snow swirling around them. She slipped her hands inside his coat and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was warm, and Lily felt the overwhelming desire to curl up against him and draw that warmth deep inside herself. His utter masculinity emphasized the contrast between them. She'd never felt more female, more aware of her self than when she was with him. The hard strength of his arms holding her made her feel more feminine. She spread her palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath layers of clothing. She ached to touch his bare skin and called herself all kinds of fool for enjoying this so much.
Even though he was a foot taller, Lily fit right against his heart as if she'd been made to fit right there, as if they'd danced this way countless times, and knew each other's rhythm. Powerless to resist, her body rested against his. He was hard and strong, his arms like steel bands around her, keeping her safe, making her feel safe. Which was illogical, since he represented everything that was dangerous right now.
"God. I ache, I want you so badly." He tilted her chin up with his finger and brushed a kiss across her forehead. She waited for him to kiss her; wanted him to kiss her. Instead he tucked her head against his chest again.
"It's good to want things," Lily told him, feeling cheated and trying to be flip as her knees literally went weak at the unequivocal statement. "Doesn't mean you always get them."
He trailed cool fingers across her nape. "In this case we both want the same thing."
She looked up at him, hot and cold shivers dancing up and down her spine as he caressed her neck with gentle fingers. Flip was replaced with a shiver of premonition. For a moment they stared at each other, barely breathing. Lily felt a chaos of emotion fluttering inside her chest. "And do you always get what you want?
"
His gaze dropped to her mouth briefly then rose to capture hers again. "Yes."
"Thanks for the warning." She needed to put a stop to this. Soon. She really did. Her breasts felt achy, her insides hot and liquid.
Derek swayed with her as the harmonica played a sweet, haunting melody that would've been more familiar coming from a fiddle. He wrapped a large hand around hers and held it against him so Lily felt his heartbeat echo in her own body. Her knees weakened further, and she wondered rather vaguely how long they'd hold her.
"I've always wanted you. Never stopped. This is going to be our turn." He and Sean had always been competitive. Derek had met her first, then she'd gone and married Sean. Was this his way of coming full circle?
She struggled to untangle emotion from physical awareness. It wasn't easy. "I'm not interested in having a casual affair with you, Derek. That's not my style." No, getting married was, she thought wryly. And look how well that had turned out. She should have had an affair with Sean. That would've worked out better, and been a whole lot less painful.
She felt the brush of his warm lips against her. "Maybe a casual affair isn't what I want."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. How long was a serious affair, according to Derek? A year instead of a couple of months? His women friends were legendary, but none of them seemed to last long. "Well then, maybe you'd better spit it out." She tilted her head so she could see his face, but it was all shadows and firelight and impossible to read. "Because I'm not sure just what it is you do want. Sex?"
His eyes darkened. "Hell, yes. I want you in my bed. In my arms. In my life." His voice was low, beguiling. He brushed her jaw with his fingertips and drew in a breath as he stared down at her, the sapphire earring winking in the firelight.
Her breath stuttered. Interpretation, she reminded herself. It was all in the interpretation. "You have to slow down."
"Maybe it's time you speeded it up and got with the program." Impatience throbbed in his voice. "You refuse to listen to what I'm telling you, you won't let me tell you how I feel—"