by Janet Dailey
Stepping into the darkness, Natalie saw Colter almost instantly. He was sitting in one of the chairs, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head tilted back to stare blankly at the sickle moon. She started to speak, then she noticed the can of beer in his bandaged hand, the metal catching the faint glow of the moonlight. As she watched, his fingers moved, slowly tightening around the can, unconsciously crushing the aluminum container without his even noticing the liquid that spilled down his hand.
“You’re supposed to drink the beer,” she murmured softly, walking over to remove the can from his hand, “not spill it all over the patio.”
Colter sighed, but didn’t reply, although she felt his gaze move to her face.
“It’s going on four o’clock,” Natalie smiled at him gently, loving him so very much that it was almost a physical pain. “Won’t you come to bed?”
In a slow, reluctant motion, he rose to his feet, but made no move to enter the house. She wanted desperately to tell him that she understood the silent anguish he was going through. Fear held her words in check, fear that he would reject her sympathy. She stood uncertainly at his side, wondering if she should repeat her question or simply leave him.
“Colter.” She said his name with an aching throb in her voice. “You need to rest.”
“Do I?” His voice, husky and warm, vibrated around her, physically touching her with his evocative tone.
“Yes, you do,” she whispered.
With a fluid turn, Colter faced her, his features hidden in the shadows, the moon trailing a silvery pale light over his light brown hair.
“How long has it been since I’ve touched you, wildcat?” Behind the soft caress of his words was the harshness of mockery that she knew so well. Her watery knees threatened to buckle.
“Please, Colter,” casting aside the surging need his question had aroused, “I want you to rest.”
A soft chuckle came from the shadows of his face. “But that’s not what I want.” Hard decision laced his statement.
Her breath was drawn in sharply as his hands closed over her hips and she was pulled against his male hardness. Before she could control the sudden explosion of her senses, his mouth was covering hers with searing hunger. Her lips parted on contact, allowing him to take all the sustenance he desired. His appetite was ravenous as he demanded the full satisfaction of the melting softness of her body.
Then Colter broke free and an inaudible sigh broke from Natalie’s lips to feel again the consuming fire of his kiss. Steel fingers closed over her wrist, biting into her flesh. Ignoring her involuntary cry of pain, he pulled her through the patio doors, the glass rattling in the panes as he slammed them shut. The momentum of her shaking legs carried her to his side. Using it, Colter swept her into his arms, the gauze of his bandages scraping the bare skin of her arm. For an instant it broke the seductive spell of his touch.
“Colter, your arms,” Natalie protested faintly. “You’re hurt!”
There was no reply until they reached the bedroom, where he let her feet swing to the floor. His arm still circled her waist, moulding her against his length while his other hand brushed the hair from her cheek.
“Then don’t fight me tonight, Natalie,” he murmured.
The beat of her heart fluctuated wildly as the bedroom light illuminated his expression an instant before it was switched off. The forbidding set of his jaw was there and the unrelenting line of his mouth, but there was no remote indifference in his eyes. They had blazed with desire — for her!
NINE
SUNLIGHT DANCED over her face, warming her skin with its golden kiss. Natalie snuggled deeper into the embrace of the strong arms that held her.
“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep until noon,” a low voice whispered into her hair.
Keeping her eyes tightly closed, Natalie smiled dreamily and slowly moved the top of her head against Colter’s chin. The scent of his maleness was like a heady wine. She was afraid to speak, afraid to let all the sensations of love come spilling out.
“You’re a bewildering creature, Natalie,” Colter murmured, shifting her into a more comfortable position and bringing her nearer to his face on the pillow.
“Why?”
The smile remained when her lips moved to ask the throaty question. Her lashes fluttered partially open to let her eyes drink their fill of his handsome face. There was a jade glitter to the eyes that were roaming lazily over her features.
With his usual arrogance, he ignored her question. “I’m hungry. Get up and fix me some breakfast.” The order was softly given, closer to being a request than a command.
Reluctantly Natalie untangled herself from his arms, instantly missing the warmth of his bare flesh against hers. In the darkness of last night, it had been easy to conceal her love from him. The brilliant sunlight would undoubtedly reveal the love she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
There was a desire to keep it to herself a little while longer. Colter was much too observant for her to hide it from him forever. Besides, she wanted him to know. But she wanted to tell him in a moment that was not heavy with the after-effects of passion.
Her gold robe was lying on the foot of the bed and Natalie reached for it as she slipped from beneath the covers. Quickly stepping into it, she zipped it to the top, then glanced at Colter. He had pushed himself into a half-sitting position with the pillows at his back. The white of his bandages stood out starkly against the tan of his face and chest. The half-closed look with which he gazed at her exhibited a lazy thoughtfulness.
“Bacon and eggs?” Natalie questioned, and he nodded. She started towards the door. “It shouldn’t take long. Would you like me to bring it on a tray?”
“I’m not an invalid,” he said drily, “but if I’m not there when it’s ready, I guess you could bring it here.”
The hands of the kitchen clock indicated that it was nearly midmorning. Missy was in school and from the window over the sink, Natalie could see Flo Donaldsen sitting in one of the patio chairs. She guessed accurately that Ricky was playing somewhere nearby.
As she began placing the bacon strips in the square skillet, the door in the kitchen leading outside opened. With a happy smile, Natalie turned to greet Flo, but it was Travis who walked in. He stopped at the sight of her, the expression on his ruggedly handsome face freezing a little.
“Good morning, Travis.” Some of the happiness that bubbled from the eternal fountain of her love crept in to add an airy lilt to her voice.
His mouth moved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as her greeting gave him back his mobility. “Good morning, Natalie. I was just bringing in the mail,” he explained, tossing envelopes and magazines on the table.
“Is there anything important I should take to Colter?”
“Not that I noticed,” Travis answered slowly. “Is that his breakfast you’re cooking?”
“Yes, he’s still in bed,” Natalie answered.
There was a husky undertone in her voice, placed there by the vivid memories of the ardent lovemaking they had exchanged in the pre-dawn hours.
“You look especially radiant this morning.” His dry observation veiled the sparkle in her eyes. The hand holding the fork paused above the bacon-filled skillet as Travis asked, “Is there a reason?”
“Yes,” she answered, suddenly conscious of his feelings towards her.
His hands were resting on his hips in a vaguely challenging stance. “The look of a woman in love, perhaps?”
She bent her head for an instant, wishing she didn’t have to hurt him although she had never once thought that she might be in love with him. Then she slowly turned to him, giving him a faint look of apology but not regret.
“Surely you guessed earlier the way I felt,” Natalie prompted gently. Travis had been there at the crash site when she had discovered she loved Colter.
Dark lashes shut out the look of pain in his brown eyes, a momentary look that was gone when Travis opened his eyes. “I guess I couldn’t
believe that it happened.”
“It did happen,” Natalie smiled faintly, “and I wouldn’t change the way I feel for all the money in the world.”
His long legs moved him towards her in slow deliberation, his brown gaze searching every corner of her face. “I want you to be happy, Natalie,” he said with taut control. “May I — kiss the happy bride?”
She hesitated for only a second before she turned her face up to his. With both hands, Travis framed her face as if memorising each feature. Tears shimmered in her amber eyes at his pain. He lowered his head towards her lips.
“For all the times I’ll never hold you, Natalie,” he said in a husky, aching whisper.
Then he was kissing her, the pressure of severely checked passion trembling the mouth that claimed hers. But his possession was short, drawing away from her as he breathed in deeply. The twisting pain of lost love marred his rugged face in the instant before he spun away towards the door. Natalie wanted to call out to him, to say something that would ease his hurt. She was the cause of his anguish, so there were no comforting words she could offer.
Robbed of a little of her joy, or more correctly sobered by the discovery of the harsh side of love, Natalie turned back to the breakfast she was preparing for Colter. Minutes later, she was sliding the eggs on to a warmed plate and adding the bacon. Juice, coffee and toast were already on the tray where she set the plate. Humming lightly to herself, Natalie picked up the tray and started for the door. It burst open before she reached it and Ricky came tumbling in.
“Morning, Nonnie,” he cried gaily.
“Good morning, Ricky. Good morning, Flo,” she added brightly to the older woman, who had followed Ricky at a more sedate pace.
“Are you just eating breakfast?” Ricky exclaimed in a scolding tone. “I’m going to help Flo get my lunch.”
“I’ll take this to Colter and come back to help you,” Natalie winked.
“Colter isn’t here,” Flo frowned her surprise at Natalie’s words. “Ricky and I just talked to him in the driveway. He’s on his way to the hospital.”
“But he asked me to get breakfast.” She stared in blank confusion at the older woman.
“All I know,” Flo shrugged in sympathy, “is that he said he’d telephoned the hospital. He didn’t sound satisfied with the information he received. I imagine he forgot all about eating.”
“He could have told me he was leaving,” Natalie said in a protesting murmur.
“Colter isn’t in the habit of informing anyone about his plans,” Flo reminded her.
That was true, Natalie admitted. She had rarely known where he was during the day. Yet surely after last night — she shook that thought away. His thoughtlessness had been caused by his concern for Cord Harris. She could not fault him for that.
Colter didn’t return for the evening meal, although Natalie postponed serving it for nearly an hour in hopes he would come. Nor was Travis there, sending word to the house in the afternoon that work would be taking him to the opposite end of the ranch. Flo had naturally returned to her cottage, which left only Missy, Ricky and Natalie sitting around the large dining room table.
It was after midnight when Natalie heard the crunch of the wheels in the gravelled drive. Uncurling her legs from the sofa, she closed the book in her hand, completely aware that she had been reading the same page for over an hour without grasping a word, and tossed it on the adjacent cushion. She opened the front door before Colter’s hand could touch the knob.
“Hello.” Natalie smiled in accompaniment to her breathless greeting.
“I thought you’d be in bed.” His gaze flicked over her tiredly as he walked by.
“I waited for you,” she explained unnecessarily. “I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten and I wanted to know how Cord was.”
“He’s still listed as critical, but his condition is improving, so the doctors say,” he sighed with bitter scorn. “I’m not hungry. Deirdre and I ate at the hospital cafeteria.”
“Deirdre?” Natalie questioned hesitantly. “You mean Stacy.”
“No, they sent her a tray so she could stay with Cord.”
Unconsciously she followed as he walked down the hallway to their bedroom, briskly removing his jacket as he went. She tried to ignore the sinking in her heart.
“What was Deirdre doing there?” Jealousy goaded her pride into asking the question.
“She heard about the accident. So she came to the hospital to see how he was and if there was anything she could do to help,” Colter answered sharply.
“Does she — know Cord and Stacy?”
“No,” he mocked sarcastically, “Deirdre always offers her sympathy to complete strangers. Of course she knows them!” he snapped.
As he tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, Natalie saw him wince involuntarily when the material caught at the adhesive of his bandages.
“Let me help you,” she offered quickly, stepping forward to ease the material over the gauze.
“Save your mothering for the children.” Colter pulled away from her touch, giving her a look of savage irritation. “I don’t need it.”
Hurt pride lifted her chin to a defiant angle as Natalie turned away, leaving him to struggle on his own. With jerky movements, she began her own preparations for bed, trying to convince herself that Colter was tired and worried. Slipping the nightgown over her head, she heard the bed accepting his weight.
“Flo said she would stay with the children tomorrow,” Natalie said stiffly.
“What for?” Colter asked uninterestedly.
Natalie glanced sharply over her shoulder, her gaze sliding away from the impersonal hardness of his. “So I could be with Stacy,” she said, averting her face from his remote eyes.
“There isn’t any need.”
“Why not?” Natalie challenged, the clinging nightgown whirling about her legs as she turned quickly around. “You wanted me to last night.”
“That was because you were available.”
“And I suppose Deirdre will be at the hospital tomorrow,” she murmured cattily.
His gaze narrowed. “Yes, she’ll be there and so will I. You’re a stranger to Stacy. Deirdre and I have known her since she married Cord. Besides, it’s more convenient.”
“Why convenient?” Natalie demanded, jealousy tearing at her heart.
“Because Deirdre has an apartment in town. She can be at the hospital in minutes if Stacy needs her.”
There was a betraying quiver of her chin as she met his mocking eyes. “Maybe you should stay there,” she suggested sarcastically as she walked stiffly towards the bed. “It would be more convenient than driving back and forth.”
“I’ll consider it,” Colter said levelly, and rolled on to his side.
The trembling of her chin started other quivers through her body. Her emotions, muddled and confused, touched off conflicting urges. She wanted to scream at Colter to go to Deirdre now, to throw things at him and arouse him out of his indifference if only to gain his anger. She wanted to bury her head in the pillow and cry with frustration and the futility of her love. Most of all, she wanted to touch him, to apologise, to make him understand that she didn’t want to fight him — she wanted to love him.
In the end, Natalie did none of those, but switched off the light and slid beneath the covers to lie in rigid silence listening to his even breathing. Why had she thought anything had changed, she asked herself, simply because for a short time the night before Colter had desired her?
Natalie was awakened the next morning by the sound of closet doors opening and closing. Through the curtain of her lashes, she watched Colter shrug into a shirt of light blue print and tuck it into the waistband of his denim slacks. As if he sensed her eyes on him, his piercing gaze swung to her. Its discerning quality made feigning sleep impossible. Natalie forced her eyes to open slowly, moving her shoulders to pretend that she was just awakening.
“Don’t bother to get breakfast for me,” Colter drawled, reaching for the matchin
g jacket on the chair.
“Will you be home for dinner tonight?” she asked as though his presence was of supreme indifference to her.
“If I’m not here, eat without me,” was his clipped reply.
But the very fact that he had answered in that way forewarned Natalie that he wouldn’t be home. The entire day and night she was tortured by fears that her spiteful words had driven him to Deirdre, although she silently realised that no one could make Colter do anything he hadn’t already decided to do.
Refusing to humiliate herself by waiting up for him again, she went to bed shortly after Missy and Ricky did, tossing and turning until she fell into a troubled sleep. She didn’t hear him return. The only evidence that he had consisted of the clothes he had worn lying on the chair and the rumpled pillow beside her own.
For two days, Natalie didn’t see Colter, only signs that he had returned to the ranch. On the afternoon of the third day, she, Ricky and Missy were at the corrals where Ricky was resuming the riding lessons that had been interrupted. This time they were under Travis’s supervision, since Ricky had appealed to him the night before.
Ricky was cantering the stocky bay around the enclosure. The horse’s front hoof struck an out-sized chunk of earth and he lurched forward before regaining his rhythmic stride. The slight stumble was all it took for Ricky to lose his balance and tumble to the ground. Travis reached him almost before the first wail broke from Ricky’s lips. Natalie and Missy were only a step behind.
“Oh, Ricky darling, are you hurt?” Natalie reached anxiously for the crying boy as Travis helped him from the ground. His little arms wrapped themselves tightly around her as Ricky buried his face in her neck and continued to sob uncontrollably.
“Put him back on the horse.” The snapped command came from behind them.
Natalie’s arms tightened protectively around Ricky as she turned to glare at Colter, striding towards them in tight-lipped coldness.