Granite Man m-4

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by Elizabeth Lowell


  And in the pauses between ecstasy came Mariah’s voice singing a husky litany of her love for Cash.

  13

  Kiss me goodbye, honey. The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back.

  Mariah had heard those same words of parting from Cash many times in the five months since she had come to the Rocking M, including the one time she had declared her love. Cash’s goodbyes were woven through her days, through her dreams, a pattern of separations and returns that had no end in sight. Even though Cash was no longer teaching at the university, his consulting work rarely allowed him to spend more than two weeks at a time at the Rocking M. More often, he was free for only a handful of incandescent days, followed by several weeks of loneliness after he left. Each time Mariah hoped that he would invite her to Boulder, but he hadn’t.

  Nor had Cash told Mariah that he loved her.

  He must love me. Surely no man could make love to a woman the way Cash does to me without loving her at least a little. Carla and Luke assume Cash loves me. So does everyone else on the Rocking M. He just can’t say the words. And is that so important, after all? His actions are those of a man in love, and that’s what matters.

  Isn’t it?

  Mariah had no doubt about her own feelings. She had never expected to love anyone the way she loved Cash – no defenses, nothing held back, an endless vulnerability that would have terrified her if Cash hadn’t been so clearly happy to see her each time he came back to the ranch.

  He was gone for only four days this time and he called every night and we talked for hours about nothing and everything and we laughed and neither one of us wanted to hang up. He loves me. He just doesn’t say it in so many words.

  It will be all right. If he hadn’t wanted children he would have used something or seen that I did. But he never even mentioned it.

  The emotional fragility that had plagued Mariah for too many weeks sent tears clawing at the back of her eyes. It had been more than four months since her last period. Soon she wouldn’t be able to hide the life growing within her by leaving her pants unbuttoned and wearing her shirts out. Cash had noticed the new richness in the curves of her body but hadn’t guessed the reason. Instead, he had teased her about the joys of regular home cooking.

  He loves children and kids love him. He’ll be a wonderful father.

  It will be all right.

  Fighting for self-control, unconsciously pressing one hand against her body just below her waist, Mariah stood on the small porch of the old house and stared out through the pines at the road that wound through the pasture. She thought she had seen a streamer of dust there a moment ago, the kind of boiling rooster tail of grit that was raised by Cash’s Jeep when he raced over the dirt road to be with her again.

  “Are you going to tell him this time?”

  Mariah started and turned away from the road. Nevada Blackthorn stood a few feet away, watching her with his uncanny green eyes.

  “Tell who what?” she asked, off balance.

  “Tell Cash that he’s going to be a daddy sometime next spring.” Nevada swore under his breath at the frightened look Mariah gave him. “Damn it, woman, you’re at least four months along. You should be going to a doctor. You should be taking special vitamins. If you don’t have sense enough to realize it, I do. Have you ever seen a baby that was too weak to cry? Babies don’t have any control over their lives,” he continued ruthlessly. “They’re just born into a world that’s more often cruel than not, and they make the best of it for as long as they can until they either die or grow up. Too often, they die.”

  Mariah simply stared at Nevada, too shocked to speak. The bleakness of his words was more than matched by his eyes, eyes that were looking at her, noting each telltale difference pregnancy had made.

  “You must have decided to have the baby,” Nevada said, “or you would have done something about it months ago. A woman who has guts enough to go through with a pregnancy should have guts enough to tell her man about it.”

  “I’ve tried.” Mariah made a helpless gesture. “I just can’t find the right time or the right words.”

  Because Cash has never said he loves me. But she couldn’t say that aloud. She could barely stand to think it.

  “The two of you go off looking for gold at least twice a month, but there’s never enough time or words for you to say ‘I’m pregnant’?” Nevada hissed a word beneath his breath. “If you don’t have the guts to tell Cash this time, I’ll take you into Cortez after he leaves. Dr. Chacon is a good man. He’ll tell you what the baby needs and I’ll make damn sure you get it.”

  Mariah looked at Nevada and knew he meant every word. He was as honest as he was hard. If he said he would help her, he would. Period.

  “You’re a good man,” she said softly, touching his bearded jaw with her fingertips. “Thank you.”

  “You can thank me by telling Cash.” Despite the curtness of Nevada’s voice, he took Mariah’s hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “You’ve got about twenty seconds to find the right words.”

  “What?”

  “He’s here.”

  Mariah spun to face the road. When she saw that Cash’s battered Jeep had already turned into the dusty yard of the old house, her face lit up. She ran to the Jeep and threw herself into Cash’s arms as he got out. Cash lifted her, held her close, and looked at Nevada over Mariah’s shoulder. Nevada returned the cool stare for a long moment before he turned and walked toward the bunkhouse without a backward glance.

  “What did Nevada want?” Cash asked.

  Mariah stiffened. Cash’s voice was every bit as hard as Nevada’s had been.

  “He just – he was wondering when you would get here,” she said hurriedly.

  It was a lie and both of them knew it.

  Cash’s mouth flattened at the surprise and the pain tearing through him. Somehow he hadn’t expected Mariah to lie. Not to him. Not about another man.

  A freezing fear congealed in Cash as he realized how dangerously far he had fallen under Mariah’s spell.

  “Nevada wanted something else, too,” Mariah said quickly, hating having told the lie. “I can’t tell you what. Not yet. Before you leave, I’ll tell you. I promise. But for now just hold me, Cash. Please hold me. I’ve missed you so!”

  Cash closed his eyes and held her, feeling her supple warmth, a warmth that melted the ice of her half lie, leaving behind a cold shadow of memory, a forerunner of the betrayal he both feared and expected.

  “Did you miss me?” Mariah asked. “Just a little?”

  The uncertainty in her voice caught at Cash’s emotions. “I always miss you. You know that.”

  “I just – just wanted to hear it.”

  Cash pulled away from Mariah until he could look down into her troubled golden eyes. The unhappiness he saw there made his heart ache despite his effort to hold himself aloof. “What is it, Mariah? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, took a deep breath and smiled up at the man she loved. “When you hold me, nothing is wrong. Come to the big house with me. Let me lust after you while I make dinner.”

  His expression changed to a lazy kind of sensuality that sent frissons of anticipation over Mariah’s nerves. Smiling, Cash dipped his head until he could take her mouth in a kiss that left both of them short of breath.

  “I’d rather you lusted after me in the old house where we can do something about it,” Cash said, biting Mariah’s lips with exquisite care, wanting her even more than he feared wanting her.

  “So would I. But then I’d never get around to cooking dinner and the cowhands would rebel.”

  Laughing despite the familiar hunger tightening his body, Cash slowly released Mariah, then put his arm around her waist and began walking toward the big house. The time of reckoning and payment would come soon enough. Anticipating it would only diminish the pleasure of being within reach of Mariah’s incandescent sensuality.

  “I don’t want to be responsible for a Rocking M rebellion,” he said.

&
nbsp; “Neither do I,” Mariah answered, putting her arm around Cash’s lean waist. “I tried to do as much of dinner as possible ahead of time, but Logan and Carolina decided they didn’t want a nap.”

  Cash looked down at Mariah questioningly. “Where are Diana and Carla?”

  “I’m watching the kids during the morning so Diana and Carla can work on the artifacts that keep coming in from September Canyon.”

  “And you’re cooking six nights a week for the whole crew.”

  “I love to cook.”

  “And Diana is making an archaeologist out of you three nights a week.”

  “She’s a very good teacher.”

  “And you’re taking correspondence courses in commercial applications of geology. And technical writing.”

  Mariah nodded. “I have my first job, too,” she said proudly. “The Four Corners Regional Museum wants to do a splashy four-color book about the history of the area. They commissioned specialists for each section of the book, then discovered that having knowledge isn’t the same thing as being able to communicate knowledge through writing.”

  Ruefully Cash smiled. Despite the fact that his profession required writing reports of his fieldwork, he knew his shortcomings in that department. In fact, he had begun writing all his reports on the Rocking M. Not only did it give him more time with Mariah, he had discovered that she had a knack for finding common words to describe esoteric scientific data. He had been the one to suggest that Mariah pursue technical writing, since she obviously had a flair for it.

  “So,” Mariah continued, “I’m translating the geology and archaeology sections into plain English. If they like my work, I have a chance to do the whole book for them.”

  Cash stopped, caught Mariah’s face between his hands, kissed her soundly and smiled down at her. “Congratulations, honey. When did you find out?”

  “This morning. I wanted to call, but you were already on the road. I thought you would never get here. It’s such a long drive. And in the winter…”

  Mariah’s voice trailed off. They both knew that driving to the Rocking M from Boulder was tedious under good conditions, arduous during some seasons and impossible when storms turned segments of the ranch’s dirt roads into goo that even Cash’s Jeep couldn’t negotiate.

  The difficulty of getting to the Rocking M wasn’t a subject Cash wanted to pursue. If Mariah hadn’t been Luke’s sister, Cash would have asked her to stay with him in Boulder months ago. But that was impossible. It was one thing to go gold hunting with Mariah or to steal a few hours alone with her in the old house before both of them went to sleep in separate beds under separate roofs. It was quite another thing to set up housekeeping outside of marriage with his best friend’s little sister.

  The obvious solution was marriage, but that, too, was impossible. Even if Cash brought himself to trust Mariah completely – especially if he did – he wouldn’t ask her to share a childless future with him. Even so, he found himself coming back to the idea of marriage again and again.

  Maybe Mariah wouldn’t mind. Maybe she would learn to be like me, accepting what can’t be changed and enjoying Logan and Carolina whenever possible. Maybe…

  And maybe not. How can I ask her to give up so much? No matter how much she thinks she loves me, she wants children of her own. I can see it every time she looks at Logan and then looks at me with a hunger that has nothing to do with sex. She wants my baby. I know it as surely as I know I can’t give it to her.

  But God, I can’t give her up, either. I’m a fool. I know it. But I can’t stop wanting her.

  There wasn’t any answer to the problem that circled relentlessly in Cash’s mind, arguments and hopes repeated endlessly with no solution in sight. No matter how many times Cash thought about Mariah and himself and the future, he had no answer that he wanted to live with. So he did what he had always done since he had realized what being effectively sterile meant. He put the future out of his mind and concentrated on the present.

  “Come on,” Cash said, kissing Mariah’s forehead. “I’ll peel potatoes while you tell me all about your new job.”

  If he noticed the uncertainty in her smile, he didn’t mention it, any more than she mentioned the fact that he was gripping her hand as though he expected her to run away.

  *

  Motionless, aware only of his own thoughts, Cash let himself into the old ranch house in the velvet darkness that comes just before dawn. Mariah didn’t expect him. They had decided to spend the day at the ranch and not leave for Black Springs until the following dawn.

  But Cash hadn’t been able to stay away. He had awakened hours before, fought with himself, and finally lost. He had just enough self-control not to go into Mariah’s bedroom and wake her up by slowly merging their bodies. Fighting the need that never left him even when he had just taken her, Cash went into the house and sat in what had once been Diana’s workroom and gradually had evolved into an office for him and a library for Mariah’s increasing collection of books.

  He didn’t even bother to turn on the light. He just pulled out one of the straight-back chairs, faced it away from the table, and tried to reason with his unruly body and mind. His body ignored him. His mind supplied him with images of a night at the line shack when Mariah had teased him because his body steamed in the frosty autumn air. He had teased her, too, but in other ways, drawing from her the sweet cries of desire and completion that he loved to hear. The thought of hearing those cries again was a banked fire in Cash’s big body, and the fire was no less hot for being temporarily controlled.

  The sound of the bedroom door opening and Mariah’s light footsteps crossing the living room sent a wave of desire through Cash that was so powerful he couldn’t move. A light in the living room came on, throwing a golden rectangle of illumination onto the workroom floor. None of the light reached as far as Cash’s feet.

  “Cash?”

  “Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  Mariah was silhouetted in the doorway. The shadow of her long flannel nightshirt rippled like black water.

  “I’m here.”

  “What are you doing sitting in the dark?”

  “Watching the moonlight. Thinking.”

  The huskiness of Cash’s deep voice made Mariah’s heartbeat quicken. She walked through the darkened room and stood in front of Cash.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.

  “You.”

  Big hands came up and wrapped around Mariah’s wrists. She whispered his name even as he tugged her down into his lap. He kissed her deeply, shifting her until she sat astride his legs and he could rock her hips slowly against his body. The heavy waves of his need broke over her, sweeping away everything but the taste and feel and heat of the man she loved. When his hands found and teased her breasts, she made rippling sounds of hunger and pleasure.

  When Mariah unfastened her nightshirt to ease his way, Cash followed the wash of moonlight over her skin with his tongue until she moaned. Soon her nightshirt was undone and he was naked to the waist and his jeans were open and her hands were moving over him, loving the proof of his passion, making him tighten with desire.

  “If you don’t stop, we’ll never make it to bed,” Cash said, his voice hoarse.

  “But you feel so good. Better each time. You’re like Black Springs, heat welling up endlessly.”

  Cash’s laugh was short and almost harsh. “Only since I’ve known you.”

  Without warning he lifted Mariah off his lap.

  “Cash?”

  “Honey, if I don’t move now, I won’t be able to stand up at all. I want you too much.”

  Despite Cash’s words, he made no move to get up. When Mariah’s hands pushed at his jeans, tugging them down until she had the freedom of his body, he didn’t object. He couldn’t. He could hardly breathe for the violence of the need hammering through him. When she touched him, the breath he did have trickled out in a groan that sounded as though it had been torn from his soul. />
  Mariah’s eyes widened and her breath caught in a rush of sensual awareness that was as elemental as the power of the man sitting before her. Her fingertips traced Cash gently again. Closing his eyes, he gave himself to her warm hands. When the caressing stopped a few moments later, he couldn’t prevent a hoarse sound of protest. He heard a rustling sound, sensed Mariah’s nightshirt sliding to the floor, and shuddered heavily. When he opened his eyes she was standing naked in front of him.

  “Can people make love in a chair?” Mariah asked softly.

  Before the words were out of her mouth, Cash’s hand was caressing her inner thighs, separating them, seeking the sultry heat of her. She shivered and melted at the caress. When his touch slid into her, probing her softness, her knees gave way. Swaying, she grabbed his shoulders for balance.

  “Cash?” she whispered. “Can we?”

  “Sit on my lap and find out,” he said, luring her closer and then closer still, easing her down until she was a balm around his hard, aching flesh and her name was a broken sigh on his lips. “Each time – better.”

  For Mariah, the deep rasp of Cash’s voice was like being licked by loving fire. She leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck. The movement caused sweet lightning to flicker out from the pit of her stomach. She moved again, seeking to recapture the stunningly pleasurable sensation. Again lightning curled through her body.

  “That’s right,” Cash said huskily, encouraging Mariah’s sensual movements. “Oh, yes. Like that, honey. Just… like… that.”

  Shivering, moving slowly, deeply, repeatedly, giving and taking as much as she could, Mariah fed their mutual fire with gliding movements of her body. When the languid dance of love was no longer enough for either of them, Cash’s hands fastened onto her hips, quickening her movements. Her smile became a gasp of pleasure when he flexed hard against her, enjoying her as deeply as she did him.

  He watched her, wanting all of her, breathing dark, hot words over her until control was stripped away and he poured himself into her welcoming softness. Mariah held herself utterly still, drinking Cash’s release, loving him, feeling her own pleasure beginning to unravel her in golden pulses that radiated through her body, burning gently through to her soul.

 

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