Then Jaimie walked past the window, her hair flowing in luxurious abandon. She paused for a moment and stared straight out the window. He knew she couldn’t see him. Not with the way the interior light would be reflecting in the window. It was too dark outside. He stood in complete shadow. She couldn’t see him standing out there, watching.
Then she turned and disappeared from his view, and Matthew let out a long breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Stifling an oath, he turned back in the other direction, walking past the big house. Until the gravel road ended and his boots hit the crunchy, thin layer of snow covering the field. He headed for the stand of trees on the moonlit horizon. But he didn’t stop to admire the glistening surface of the swimming hole as it reflected the white moon. He headed around to the other side, then stood looking down at the headstone of his mother’s grave.
He didn’t need any sunlight or moonlight to read the inscription below her name. Though it had been thirty years since he’d stood at this spot, he remembered it perfectly well without any aid.
“Beloved Wife. Devoted Mother.”
He crouched down and touched the cold, hard marble. The breeze kicked up and whispered through the bare branches of the trees behind him. It danced over him, ruffling through his hair like her fingers had once done, and Matthew shook his head at the whimsical notion.
Well, son, what do you need?
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. A year ago, six months ago even, he could’ve easily answered that. He needed his ranch. He needed his family. That was all. That was it.
When had it all begun to change?
Again the breeze washed over him, more cold than anything, and he looked down at the headstone once again.
He knew exactly when it had begun to change, but he’d been too stick stupid and stubborn to acknowledge it.
And folks said his brother Jefferson was the stubborn one in the family.
Matthew shook his head and decided that he’d stood out in the cold air long enough. It was freezing his good sense into an ice cube of nonsense. He pushed to his feet, grimacing at the lingering twinges in his chest.
It would be a few more days, still, before Matthew could put the physical effects of his tangle with the snowmobile behind him. He looked down at the headstone. If it hadn’t been for Jaimie, his family would’ve been putting another stone there beside this one.
He still couldn’t figure how she’d managed to get him to the cabin. Jefferson had told him how he’d found her, bundled against him, sharing what body heat she had with him. Daniel had told him how it had taken several men to pull the powerful snowmobile from the creek. Yet Jaimie, somehow, had succeeded in getting him out from beneath it.
And he’d been afraid that the life here would be too tough for her. His redhaired city girl might be all soft and sweetly scented on the outside. But inside she had a will of iron. She was as different from BethAnn as night was from day.
He turned his head into the breeze. He really had been standing out in the cold too long. In his head, he’d imagined the scent of lemon on that breeze.
He turned to go, then stopped. Pushing his fingers into his pockets again, he looked at the inscription on the headstone and said the words that he’d never said before. “Goodbye, Mama. You and BethAnn take care of each other.”
When he walked back to the house, his ribs didn’t hurt quite so much. And his step was, perhaps, a little lighter.
Jaimie stood in the mudroom, loading the washing machine, when he returned. He stopped at the familiar scene.
She looked at him when he closed the storm door, then turned her attention back to the washer. She busily fed a long blanket evenly into the basket
“What are you doing?”
Her shoulder lifted. She reached to replace the soap on the shelf above the machines, and the hem of her black sweater rose a few inches, baring the creamy skin above her jeans. “I wanted to get a head start on some of this stuff.” She closed the machine lid. “Before I—”
“Go.”
She nodded, brushing her palms across her denim-clad thighs.
He shrugged out of the coat and tossed it onto a peg. “How are Maggie and the baby doing?”
“Fine.” Her palm moved again across her thigh, distracting him. “What about your—”
“You’re still—”
They both broke off, watching each other. Hectic color came and went in her cheeks.
“You first,” he said.
The tip of her tongue dashed over her lower lip. “I was just...I wanted...that is...your rib,” she finished, flushing even brighter.
He automatically lifted his hand to his side. “Coming along.”
She swallowed, nodding. “Good. That’s good.” The washing machine chugged into action, and she glanced back at it. “You were saying?”
Ashamed as he was to admit it, Matthew lost his nerve. He just shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Oh. Well.” She stepped toward him, and every nerve in his body went on alert. But she only reached past him for her purple coat and pulled it on, leaving it unfastened. She reached for the door, then pulled her hand back. She looked up at him. “Matthew, I...”
He had to clear his throat. “Yeah?”
She dashed her bangs out of her eyes. “Thank you,” she finally said. “For all you’ve done.” She met his eyes, then glanced away, reaching for the door with finality. “There’s a fresh pot of coffee on,” she said.
He stopped the progress of the door with his hand. “Don’t go.”
Jaimie saw him nudge the door closed, cutting off her escape. “I don’t—Coffee will keep me awake,” she said, hoping that the trembling in her limbs didn’t sound in her voice. Knowing that they did.
“I’m not asking you to stay for coffee.” he said gruffly.
She went still. “Oh.” The washing machine chugged again. They both looked at it. “I’ll come back and finish the load later.”
He leaned back against the storm door. “Getting kind of late.”
She shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “I’ll be up. I, urn, told Maggie I’d stay to help with J.D., so she could get as much sleep as she could.”
“You’ve been a good friend for her.”
“She’s more than a friend,” Jaimie murmured. “She and Joe are the only family I have.”
“And now J.D., too.”
She nodded.
“About that. You don’t have to leave.”
Jaimie’s heart thudded unevenly at his low, husky voice. “Once Maggie is up to snuff again, I’ll just be in the way over there. The house was barely large enough for us adults to begin with. Now with J.D.—”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Matthew reached over and worked a thick curl loose from the collar of her jacket. She steeled herself against the need to press herself against him. For his hand to curl around her neck in that way he had of doing when he lifted her head for his kiss. Maybe he knew how he was torturing her. Maybe this was just some cat-and-mouse thing for him. “Well, then, what did you mean?” She took refuge in the tartness of her demand.
He smiled faintly. Brushed his thumb down the satiny curve of her cheek. “This place would be entirely too tame without that sass of yours.”
Behind them the washing machine clicked and started spinning noisily.
“I don’t want you to leave the ranch.” His eyes met hers. “Or me.”
Jaimie’s head was going as crazily in circles as the blankets inside. the washing machine. “What are you saying?”
“Don’t you know?”
Her heart leaped, but her brain stomped down on it. Hard. “Maybe you’d better...elaborate,” she managed.
“Don’t go to Gillette. Don’t go anywhere.” His hands settled on the shoulders of her coat and under his gentle nudge, it slipped off. “Stay with me,” he murmured, sliding his hard, warm palm behind her neck.
Her brain was no match for her heart. It jumped clear
up into her throat. “Why?”
“Because I care about you.”
He didn’t stumble once over the words. Not like before. She moistened her lips. “Do you really mean that?”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Yeah.”
Her knees turned to mush. “Oh, Matthew.”
“Oh, Jaimie,” he mimicked gently.
She threw her arms around his neck. He laughed softly. Then, taking her by the hand, he quietly led her through the kitchen. At the base of the stairs he lifted her easily into his arms.
She caught her breath. “Put me down. You’re not in any shape—”
He swallowed her words with his lips.
“I’m too big—”
He kissed her again. When he lifted his head, Matthew seriously considered just taking her into his office. It was a lot closer.
“You’ll hurt yourself,” she said in a rush.
With barely a twinge in his midsection, he headed up the stairs. “Where did you get this idea that you’re some amazon,” he murmured. “You’re tall, sure. But that just means I don’t have to break my neck bending down to kiss you. And you’re slender as a willow.” He paused halfway up the stairs. “Until you get rid of your clothes and show off those sweet curves.”
She swallowed. “Really?”
His laugh was abrupt and short-lived as he continued up the stairs. “You must be kidding. My fingers can practically circle your waist. Your breasts overflow my hands, and your hips—”
“Shh!” She buried her face in his neck. “Everybody will hear you.”
Matthew reached the landing and turned toward his big bedroom. “Who everybody? Daniel’s out checking the stock. It’ll take him hours yet. Squire’s already turned in.”
He turned sideways to enter his bedroom and let Jaimie’s feet find the floor. The lamp on his nightstand cast a golden glow over the wide bed. “We could make a heck of a lot of noise before Squire would hear us from his bedroom downstairs.”
Heat filled her cheeks. Matthew’s big bed loomed large and obvious behind her.
“About your hips.” His tone lowered.
Her breathing quickened. Matthew stepped toward her. Then right on past into the attached bathroom. Surprised, she followed, seeing him leaning over to turn on the taps. Water gushed into the oversize tub.
He settled on the edge and pulled her to him, his hands molding her hips. “They’re perfect. For me.”
Her soft moan could barely be heard above the rush of water. But he heard it all the same. “Now, you’ve seen me before a bath. And I’ve seen you after yours. This time, let’s get our timing better.”
Jaimie’s head lowered over his. Her lemon-scented hair drifted around them. “Our timing has been just fine,” she whispered shakily. “But I’m willing to work on it as long as you are.”
“I don’t know,” he pondered slowly. “It might take a long time.” His fingers delved up her back beneath the short, loose sweater. They encountered nothing but satiny skin.
“Whatever it takes.” She arched like a contented cat. “I’m your girl.”
He reached over to shut off the water, then held her steady while she pulled off her boots and socks. His fingers found the snap of her jeans, and unzipping them, he pulled them from those perfect hips. She kicked them off and stood before him, wearing nothing but her tiny, flirty panties and the cropped sweater.
“Matthew.” Jaimie’s eyes grew heavy when his thumbs brushed across her nipples, urging them to even tighter peaks. “I love you,” she breathed.
The deeply blue rim of color surrounding his pale irises seemed to darken to black. “Ah, Jaimie.”
He would never have to return the words, she thought fuzzily. As long as he said her name the way he just had.
She stepped back and pulled off the sweater, then tugged him to his feet and began unbuttoning his shirt. “We wouldn’t want the water to get cold.”
He shrugged out of the blue plaid flannel and tossed it to the floor. It landed atop her sweater. “No, we wouldn’t,” he agreed.
The clothes that they’d left littering the floor got a good soaking from the splashing. And the water did grow cold, but they were too absorbed in one another to care.
It was after midnight when Jaimie, wearing a sweatshirt of Matthew’s that hung to her knees and a pair of his jeans rolled up and hitched in with a belt, walked back to Joe and Maggie’s house. Matthew walked with her.
She turned to him on the steps. “I think you should pinch me,” she said faintly.
He raised his eyebrows, and his teeth flashed in the moonlight. “Getting kinky are you?”
She shoved him. He laughed softly and kissed her lightly. “I’ll talk to you in the morning,” he said. “Well, later this morning.” She nodded, and he tugged her near. “I wish you could’ve stayed with me tonight,” he murmured.
She wished the very same thing. “Maggie’s counting on me.”
“I know.” He kissed her again, then set her away. “You’d better go in, Red.”
“Yes.”
Still, he sneaked in two more kisses before Jaimie went inside.
Matthew stared at the darkened house, shaking his head. Then he laughed. When he returned to his bed, he yanked the pillow to his face and fell asleep with her scent filling his head.
Chapter Sixteen
The kitchen was empty when Jaimie walked over to the big house shortly after six that morning. She’d snatched a few hours’ sleep between taking turns with Maggie tending to J.D. But she didn’t feel tired at all.
It didn’t matter that Squire had told her not to worry about breakfasts anymore. She planned to fix the Clay men the best breakfast in the world. She busily began chopping potatoes for Matthew’s favorite hash browns.
They were snapping and sizzling in the frying pan when Dan walked in. She grinned at him, not caring that she probably looked like an escapee from the county sanitarium. “Hope you haven’t already eaten,” she greeted him.
He shook his head and retrieved a coffee mug. “Smells good. Sure looks like you’re cooking enough for an army, though.”
“Just you guys.” Jaimie turned back to the hash browns. “I know it’s a little late. But I still hoped to catch you and Matthew before you went out.”
Dan poured his coffee. “Well, I’m here,” he said. “But Matthew headed out this morning already. You missed him by about thirty minutes. Said to tell you he’d see you as soon as he got back.”
“But I saw Jasper grazing...”
“He drove down to Cheyenne,” Dan said. His eyes squinted above the steam from the coffee. “You know that prime bull that Matt’s had his eye on for the past year? The owner called last night. Told Matt if he wanted to buy him, to get his tail down there today.”
“But he never said anything about leaving.”
He shrugged. “He didn’t get the message until this morning.”
She knew how much Matthew wanted that bull. Disappointment still gripped her. “Oh. Well. I hope you and Squire are hungry,” she said, turning to the potatoes before they could scorch.
“Squire’s gone, too. He left right after Matt. But I’m hungry,” he grinned. “Matt’ll be back tomorrow morning, probably. Evening at the latest, depending on what kinda hassle he has with the weather and the trailer.”
Jaimie would concentrate on that. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have plenty to do in his absence. She had to call the hospital day care director, for one thing. And caring for J.D. was enough to keep both Maggie and Jaimie busy.
Matthew would be back soon. And he didn’t want her to leave. She hugged the knowledge to herself as she finished cooking up breakfast and served Daniel. While he ate, she dashed up to Matthew’s bathroom and cleaned it up. Then she changed his sheets and carried wet towels and bundled sheets down to the laundry room.
She pulled out the blankets that she’d put into the dryer before Matthew had walked her back to the cottage last night, and folded them, then started another
load.
Even the never-ending laundry couldn’t quell the bubble of excitement inside her. In between dashing back and forth to check on Maggie and the baby, Jaimie cleaned the big house from top to bottom. By noon the house gleamed.
She had just added a drop of oil to the squeak in Matthew’s office chair when the phone rang. She picked it up. It was Emily looking for Matthew.
“Well, shoot,” the other woman muttered when Jaimie told her he was gone. “I need him to give me some check numbers.”
“Maybe Dan—”
“No. Don’t disturb him,” Emily said. “He and Jefferson had plans this afternoon. Listen, would you do me a huge favor?”
Jaimie set aside the bottle of lubricant. “Sure.”
Emily walked Jaimie through the production of booting up Matthew’s computer and providing the information that Emily needed. “Okay,” Emily finally said. “I told the general manager at Wayland’s that I’d get this stuff to him this afternoon. Maybe we can find out where the mix-up is with those invoices of Matt’s. Thanks a lot, Jaimie.”
“Sure.”
The two women visited a few moments longer, then Jaimie hung up. She finished with the chair and went to the kitchen to pull a casserole from the freezer. Then it was back to Maggie’s, and a brief hunt for D.C., who had been absent long enough to arouse Jaimie’s curiosity.
She found the cat in the horse barn, curled in a corner of the tack room atop a saddle blanket that had fallen from the shelf. She had to step over Sandy, who slept in the doorway, to get to them.
“Oh, D.C.” Jaimie fell to her knees beside the cat. Four...no five...kittens were wrapped protectively within the circle of the cat’s body. Jaimie oohed and aahed over the newborns.
Jaimie brought a bowl of food and water for the cat, then, knowing that she could waste hours with the kittens, made herself go back into the house. Donna called, and Jaimie scrawled a message for Matt, taking it into his office to leave on his desk.
The Rancher And The Redhead Page 25