Rescued by a Rancher

by Mindy Neff

  He pressed his lips to her eyelids, her temple, the corner of her mouth, wanting to rush, needing to rush, yet taking his time. Hovering a breath away from her lips, he murmured, “Mrs.”

  He didn’t give her an opportunity to respond. With lips and hands he mapped her body, gauging her desire, watching, aching, enjoying, taking her up to a fever pitch, then gently easing her down.

  He loved the little moans she uttered, the way her body responded to his slightest touch. She reached for him, but he evaded. He wasn’t finished with her. Not by a long shot.

  “I’ve waited a lifetime for you, Tracy Lynn. Indulge me, okay?” He wondered what she would do if he told her that he’d watched her from afar ever since he was just a boy. That he’d yearned.

  Would she think he was a sap if he admitted that she’d always been his dream girl? That every year she was the wish he’d made on his birthday candle?

  That hers was the name he whispered when loneliness closed in?

  Knowing the words would only complicate the temporary situation they’d been thrust into, he let his hands and lips speak for him, groaning when he felt her restless surrender.

  “Linc…” Impatience hummed over her heated skin, thickened her voice, her hands fisting the sheets.

  “Uh-uh. I’m thinking this is going to take all night.” He wanted to call the shots, wanted to make sure that any thoughts or experiences she’d had with other men were wiped from her mind. Replaced by only him.

  This urgent need was new to him. In the past when he’d taken a woman to bed, he’d only been interested in the satisfaction of release. Mutual gratification with no strings.

  But Tracy Lynn was different. With her, he wanted strings.

  “I’ll be dead before morning,” she complained. He felt her tense, knew that reality had intruded, that she’d just reminded herself of her father’s uncertain fate.

  “I promise to revive you.” His mouth closed over the peak of her breast.

  Tracy Lynn usually obeyed rules, but not this time. She wanted to return the pleasure, participate, touch him as he was touching her.

  She gripped the back of his neck, pressed him more firmly against her aching flesh, arched her back as sensations held her in the grip of the most intense pleasure she’d ever experienced. She felt drugged, her limbs heavy and weak with desire.

  His hair slid through her fingers as he moved down her body, his tongue tracing a path down the center of her stomach.

  A distant part of her mind realized his intention. She thought to stop him, yet within seconds, with his mouth, he brought her to a climax so explosively exquisite she nearly fainted. Giving her no respite, his fingers replaced his lips, prolonging the spasms, intensifying the orgasm.

  She screamed, writhed and pleaded. If she could have formulated a coherent thought, she might have told him she really wasn’t kidding about that dying remark. Surely there was a limit to the amount of pleasure a woman could endure.

  Oh, but what a way to go. Her heels dug into the mattress, her breath coming out in whimpering pants.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “That’s the way, babe. Once more.” He moved between her legs, entered her in one smooth, powerful thrust.

  Scooping his arm beneath her hips, he lifted her, held her steady as he pressed into her. Feminine muscles squeezed him, pulsing hot and slick around him. Sweat beaded at his temple, prickled over his spine.

  He ground his back teeth, felt his release building as her body milked him, prayed he could maintain control. She was so sensitized, he knew she needed a minute to settle before he took her over the next soaring hurdle.

  But she snatched the reins right out of his hands. Wrapping her legs around him, she rotated her hips in a way that drove him wild.

  “Now!” she panted. “Right now, Linc!” He thrust into her, hard and deep, faster and faster, until she cried out, her fingernails digging into his back, her legs gripping him.

  Release slammed though him with the force of a charging stallion, uncivilized, powerful, the sensations so stunning and intense he thought he’d shatter.

  And in that moment he knew he’d made a big mistake by turning his lifelong fantasy into reality.

  Because now he would never stop wanting her.

  Chapter Seven

  Tracy Lynn wanted to know who let the darn cricket into the house. She wasn’t a morning person, and the incessant chirping was driving her batty. She burrowed deeper into the pillow, trying to shut out the noise and drift back to sleep. The sound changed to an insistent beep, and she groaned.

  Alarm clock. Suelinda must have accidentally changed the setting while dusting.

  Eyes still closed, she reached over to slap the snooze button, but her hand merely whooshed through vacant air. Seriously annoyed that she was forced to wake up before she was ready, she opened her eyes. Frowned.

  Memory pushed through the fog of sleep and she shot straight up in the bed. Linc’s bed.

  Two things registered at once. She was stark naked. And she was alone.

  Looking around wildly for the stupid clock, she found it on the floor, made a dive for it and managed to get it turned off. The electronic numbers read 5:30 a.m. Good grief. The chickens weren’t even up this early!

  Her heart thudded in her chest as she flopped back onto the pillows and pulled the covers to her chin, the events of the previous night at last registering in her brain. She felt the heat of a blush steal over her skin from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

  Mercy. Never in her life had she experienced anything like Linc’s brand of lovemaking.

  Where was he now? She hadn’t anticipated ending up in bed with him the very first night, and now she was suffering some morning-after jitters, unsure of the ground rules, unsure of where she stood.

  She dragged the sheet off the bed and got up, heading toward the arched opening that led to the master bathroom. When she’d toured the house yesterday with Becca, Sunny and Donetta, this bathroom had literally taken her breath away. It mimicked the size of the master suite and housed the most awesome shower she’d ever seen. Completely enclosed floor to ceiling with a solid wall of thick glass on one side, polished stone on the other three and a skylight above, it could easily hold a king-size bed.

  She dropped the sheet to the floor and turned on the water. Heat lamps, camouflaged in the stone, chased away the morning chill. With multiple shower heads cascading water from the stone walls, it was like walking into a private grotto.

  And it was a crying shame to be all alone in such an extravagantly romantic surrounding.

  She finished her shower, wrapped herself in a lusciously thick towel, then crossed the hall to the guest room to unpack and dress.

  By the time she set out in search of Linc, the sun was just beginning to light the sky. Her breath clouded on the early-morning air, and she pulled her coat closer as she stepped off the back porch and headed toward the elaborate outbuildings.

  Sounds seemed sharper at this time of the day when the world was just coming awake—the coo of a dove, the whistle of a bobwhite, the whinny and nicker of horses. Mist, permeated with the scent of animals, hovered over the ground.

  The plank fences cordoning paddocks, corrals and property borders were painted a nutmeg hue rather than the traditional white. Several men were already out exercising horses.

  She found Linc in the horse barn, his coat off, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he forked hay into an empty stall and spread it around. For a moment, she stood in awe—of the man and of the facilities.

  His house was at least six thousand square feet. This barn was twice that size.

  Tethered outside the stall that Linc was feverishly raking was a beautiful chestnut horse. Tracy Lynn didn’t know squat about Thoroughbreds, but this one seemed exceptionally well formed, reminding her of the sleekly toned body of an athlete.

  The horse lifted its proud head and made a sound as though clearing its throat. A chicken streaked across the center aisle of the ba
rn and dove beneath one of the stall doors like a woman who’d been caught half naked when the preacher came to call.

  Both occurrences startled her. She must have made a noise, because Linc straightened and looked at her, leaning his weight on the pitchfork.

  “Hi,” she said, feeling a little awkward. She wasn’t quite sure how to act after last night.

  He dipped his head in a nod, the brim of his hat partially concealing his expression.

  Okay. Not the most demonstrative greeting, perhaps, but cordial enough. She started toward him, but the horse swung its head around and she halted, deciding not to go any nearer.

  “You here to help muck out stalls?” Linc finally asked.

  “Is that what you’re doing?” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “Your horse doesn’t look like he wants me to join you.”

  “She,” he corrected. “Her name’s Pride of Priscilla—Prissy for short. She’s a sweetheart. Just don’t walk behind her and startle her.”

  A subtle change came over him when he talked about the mare. His face lost the guarded tension that was usually there. Horses are easy, he’d said. Even if he hadn’t made that remark, she would have pegged him as a man more comfortable around animals than people.

  She moved forward once again and cautiously reached up to rub Prissy’s nose. The horse jerked her head and Tracy Lynn snatched away her hand, quickly stepping back. Prissy did the same, yanking at her tether rope.

  “Whoa,” Linc said. Abandoning his pitchfork, he was outside the stall in less than a second, his gloved hands gently stroking Prissy’s neck, urging her head back down. “Easy, girl. You’re okay.” Neither his voice nor his movements would have stirred the hair on a fluffy rabbit. “Haven’t been around horses much, hmm?”

  “Not a lot, no.” Her knees felt like spaghetti. She wondered if Prissy could sense that.

  “I’d have thought the gal who was a cheerleader, prom queen and Miss Hope Valley would have surely taken riding lessons and entered fancy competitions.”

  She frowned at his tone. It sounded almost mocking. What had happened to the tender, loving man who’d shown her bliss last night? This morning, he was acting as though they were barely acquainted.

  “When I was a child, one of Daddy’s horses got spooked and broke my collarbone when she pinned me against the wall of the barn. Since then, I’ve been a little leery. I know it seems irrational, but even now that I’ve grown considerably, their size is magnified in my mind. It’s as though I’m seeing this horse through a little girl’s eyes and height—and I’m a bit intimidated.”

  Linc swore softly and ducked under Prissy’s neck, putting himself between her and the horse. “Childhood trauma is tough to get over on your own. You seem to want to, though, am I right?”

  “Yes. They’re beautiful animals, and I feel foolish.”

  He tugged off his leather glove and held out his hand toward her. “Come on. I won’t let her step on you. Trust me.”

  She took his hand.

  “Stroke her neck. Let her see you.”

  With Linc standing next to her, she was able to indulge her fascination. She’d always had the urge to put her arms around a horse, lay her cheek against its neck and hug, much the same as she’d do with a dog.

  And that was exactly what she did now. Although her heartbeat drummed in her ears, she laughed delightedly.

  “She’s so soft and warm. I could just cuddle right up to her.”

  Prissy seemed to agree and bobbed her head, bumping against the top of Tracy Lynn’s head.

  “She’s not eating my hair, is she?”

  “Not much. You should still have enough left to fix in a ponytail.”

  Tracy Lynn pulled back and grinned at him. “I never knew you were such a clown.”

  He didn’t return her smile, just stared at her, and she started to get a bad feeling.

  “We need to talk about last night,” he said.

  Okay. She wasn’t real crazy about his tone, either. He didn’t have to elaborate. She could tell by the look on his face that he regretted sleeping with her.

  Hurt and embarrassment stung her insides, but she would drink out of a slimy horse trough before she’d let him know that. She gave Prissy’s cheek another soft scratch, then stepped back.

  “It was no big deal, Linc. Let’s not turn it into one. We’re two consenting adults who acted on a perfectly natural need. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Do you honestly believe that?”

  “Does it really matter?” she countered. “We made a deal.”

  “Sex wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “Well, we can’t very well take it back, now can we? What do you want from me? My word of honor that I won’t try to entice you back into bed? Fine. You’ve got it. God, this is embarrassing.” She whirled around. “I’m going to the hospital.”

  “Babe.” He caught her arm. “I’m only thinking about you.”

  “I’m a big girl, Linc. I can think for myself.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re too trusting.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. Did you plan to hurt me?”

  He let go of her arm. “Not intentionally.”

  The flash of anguish in his eyes and his tone dissolved her irritation in an instant. She knew enough about his past to understand his inner wounds—after all, her best friend was married to his brother. Last night she’d felt his outer wounds—the scars on his back—and had nearly wept. She hadn’t asked about them because making love wasn’t the time to resurrect bad memories.

  “I understood what you were telling me the other day when you said you’d be leaving after the first of the year. I wish I could erase all the old ghosts for you, but that’s something you have to do on your own. I went into this with my eyes open, Linc. Neither one of us made promises, so unintentionally hurting each other shouldn’t be a concern. I won’t cling if you decide to go back to Dallas.”

  With that, she turned to leave. Honor had prompted him to marry her when he’d clearly had one foot out the door, and now he was trapped, forced to subject himself to reminders he shouldn’t have to deal with on a daily basis.

  “Trace?” At the sound of his voice, she paused. “Let me know if they move up the surgery schedule, and I’ll come sit with you.”

  She started to object, then just nodded.

  That was what a real husband would do.

  TRACY SPENT THE NEXT TWO DAYS at the hospital. It wasn’t easy dodging her father’s questions, and she felt as though she was simply digging herself into a deeper pit of lies.

  “Everything going okay between you and Linc?” he asked.

  “Yes. Just fine.” If you considered being ignored fine.

  “Can’t help but notice he hasn’t been around.”

  “He has work to do, Daddy.” In that respect, Linc and her father were very much alike. Both were workaholics.

  “You said you renewed your acquaintance with Linc when you went to Dallas?”

  “Mmm. Would you like some water?” She picked up the plastic pitcher, remembered it was empty. “Sorry. I forgot they starve you before surgery. It’s a good thing you already had the IV in. Dehydration makes it difficult to find a vein.” She tidied the hospital tray, shifted the box of tissues and aligned it with his reading glasses—for the third time in as many minutes.

  “I remember how they used to poke Mama’s arms, trying to find a vein that wasn’t collapsed. She was such a trooper through it….” Her mouth snapped shut as her father put his hand over hers.

  Oh, God. What was she thinking? He was about to have major surgery and she was babbling on about Mama—who’d died in this very hospital.

  What if he died? What if he died still believing the lie between them?

  “Come on, sweet pea. Don’t go diggin’ up the graveyard and borrowing trouble.”

  She laughed, embarrassed that the sound was partly a sob. “Linc always says that to me—that I’m borrowing trouble.”

 
“That’s because you do.” She jumped at the sound of Linc’s voice. He placed his hands on her shoulders from behind.

  “Darn it, Linc. You scared me half to death.” The last word was out with no hope of recall when she realized its inappropriateness.

  Linc grinned and reached past her to shake hands with her father. “Your daughter is a real worrier,” he said.

  This moment of male bonding was all well and good, Tracy Lynn thought. But she didn’t appreciate being the subject.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She was touched beyond words that Linc had remembered the surgery. That he’d come. For her. She hadn’t thought he would, despite the fact that she’d told him the date and time as he’d requested.

  Since their “morning after” in the barn, she’d slept in the guest room. They’d hardly crossed paths, and she didn’t need a written memo to figure out the avoidance was deliberate. Yes, she’d been at the hospital a good many hours over the past two days, but not all of them.

  The passionate lovemaking of their wedding night might never have happened.

  The man had a noble streak as wide as Texas, and a misguided notion that she needed protection from herself—evidently so she wouldn’t get her feelings all tangled and start setting up housekeeping for real.

  Of course, he was too late for that. Her feelings had been engaged even before they’d made love. And neither avoidance nor a divorce would change that, so it was flat-out silly that they couldn’t just act like two normal adults living under the same roof.

  “Maybe you ought to come on over here and slip your arm in this boa constrictor machine, sweet pea. Make sure you’re not overrevving your blood pressure with all that excess worrying.”

  “My blood pressure’s fine, thanks, Daddy.”

  “We could hook you up to these alien skin suckers.” He plucked one of the wires taped to his chest. “Feed your heart information out to Ellie’s monitor at the nurses’ station.”

  Linc chuckled.

  “Cute,” Tracy Lynn drawled. “What got you so perked up all of a sudden?”