Time's Enduring Love

by Tia Dani

A flash of white floating out among the oak trees caught his attention. He opened the window a little wider. Renegades? Looking for trouble?

  "Come outside."

  Matthew jumped a foot, barely missing the edge of the open window frame with his head. He cursed under his breath and leaned out over the sill. Standing left of the window was Libby's father. "What are you doing here?"

  "Come outside. She needs help."

  The tension in Theo's voice raised the hairs on the back of Matthew's neck. He snapped into action and hurriedly donned his shirt, pants and grabbed his boots.

  The instant he was outside, Theo motioned him to follow. The older man limped a few yards away, stopped, and pointed toward the trees.

  "Go after her, son. She needs help getting back."

  "Go after...?" Matthew looked around and saw no one.

  "Libby's sleepwalking and I can't keep up."

  The white flash. Libby in her nightgown.

  Immediately Matthew tugged on his boots. There had been a young man in his volunteers who walked in his sleep almost every night. Someone had to keep an eye on him continuously. Matthew didn't need to be told what might happen to Libby if someone didn't look out for her. There are other things walking around at night and they weren't all friendly.

  "Does she do this often?"

  Theo hesitated before answering, "No, only when she's upset. She doesn't know she's doing it." He sighed and rubbed his healing leg. "Normally, I go after her and bring her back, but..." Lifting his cane, he shrugged. "You'll have to go."

  Matthew didn't hear any censure in the man's tone but knew it was there. He upset Libby today. "I'll bring her back."

  "Don't wake her."

  "I won't. I know how to handle sleep walkers."

  He took a step toward the oak trees, but Theo stopped him.

  "Son. There's something you should know."

  Matthew turned. "Yes sir?"

  "She's not what you think."

  Chapter Ten

  She's not what you think.

  Theo's words haunted Matthew as he headed for the trees. How in the hell did the old man know what he thought? Was he a mind reader?

  The snap of a breaking twig intruded on his thoughts, and he made long strides toward a stand of young trees. He didn't have time to worry about Theo's meaning. Libby could get hurt stumbling around in the dark.

  Within the cluster of cottonwoods, Matthew squinted, grateful for the brightness of the full moon.

  Lightning flashed faraway to the north. He brushed concern aside. There wasn't a hint of moisture in the air. Heat lightning usually showed up this time of the year.

  "What the—"

  A hand grabbed his arm so unexpectedly he was yanked off balance. Surprise worked against him, and he hit the ground hard.

  Libby. She seemed to possess the strength of a woman twice her size. Shadows cast darkness across her form. She stared at him, wide-eyed and frightened.

  "What took you so long, Dad?"

  Dad? Her whispered questions threw him off guard. Matthew opened his mouth to answer when suddenly Theo's advice surfaced into his mind.

  Don't wake her.

  Matthew cleared his throat and lowered his voice to sound more like Theo's. "No. I was...uh... Hey? What are you doing?"

  Libby's fingers pressed against the side of his throat. Matthew swallowed and tried to lean away. Her touch was satin and silk.

  She's not what you think.

  Matthew's heartbeat increased a hundredfold. To keep his thoughts sane, he repeated Theo's words over and over in the back of his mind.

  Don't wake her. She's not what you think.

  "Your breathing is irregular and your pulse is up."

  Hell, of course his pulse was up. His heart pounded against his chest like a hammer on an anvil. Anyone within five feet would have known it. He wouldn't be surprised if the entire world heard it.

  Matthew licked his lips against the sudden dryness. He scanned her face. What was she thinking?

  Even though the trees shadowed the moonlight, Matthew saw Libby's face clearly. Genuine concern was there, unclouded by mischief or deceit. She truly believed he was her father. A bit of wistful envy tugged at Matthew. What would it feel like to have someone look at him with love? And mean it?

  "Are you all right?"

  Softness and caring filled her voice. Matthew couldn't accuse her of trying to deceive him, not after hearing her concern. Damn, he had no choice but to go along with her until he figured out a way to get her back to the house without waking her. Inhaling and releasing a deep breath, Matthew said in a low tone, "I'm fine."

  She must have sensed his lie, for she shook her head. "No, you're not. I can tell." She pushed against his chest and forced him to lie flat on the ground beside her. "Your pulse is way too high."

  Then as if to prove her point, she bent over him and placed her fingers at his throat again. The whiteness of her nightgown glowed in the darkness above him, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. Struggling against the urge to take her in his arms Matthew closed his eyes. The thought of pulling her down on top of him sent his pulse leaping like a prairie dog scuttling for home.

  He wasn't the only one to notice.

  "See," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. "Your heartbeat is too fast to count."

  No joke, he thought, keeping his eyes closed. Matthew shifted his hips uncomfortably. His heart rate wasn't the only thing rising.

  She's not what you think!

  He groaned and dropped his hands weakly to his side. He wasn't the type to take advantage of a woman when she wasn't awake and willing, no matter how much his desires raged.

  Disappointment warred within him, and Matthew groaned a second time. Libby's hands moved to his inner thigh, and his groan became a gasp. He jerked his leg away. "What are you doing?"

  "You told me you were in pain. I'm looking for the cut in your pants." She hauled his leg back. "I need to check you out."

  "Wha...aaa...t?"

  All attempt to sound like Theo dissolved. Her fingers stroked the inseam of his pant leg, heading directly for his swollen member. Horrified, he reached out to grab her hand then halted. He remembered Theo's admonition.

  Don't wake her.

  "Libby...I...don't think...this is such a good idea." Matthew dropped his half-raised hand. Too late. Her fingers were there. Beads of sweat broke out on his brow. It wouldn't be long before she felt his arousal.

  "Where's my case? Where's my case?"

  Matthew blinked, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. She made no sense, but, at least, her hands stilled. He struggled onto his elbows and looked around. "What case? I don't see—"

  "It was here. I had it right here."

  She patted the ground, and Matthew scanned the area again. "Are you sure you brought it?"

  "Of course! You carried it, remember?"

  "I did?" If Theo had carried a case at one time while they were together, there wasn't a thing Matthew could do about it now. "When did you see it last?" he asked, trying to be helpful.

  "I...I..." Libby cocked her head and went silent. "Oh, now I remember. That nice man brought it to me."

  An image of Libby standing beside Luke and hugging a strange looking case came to him. Matthew frowned. He hadn't thought much of it at the time. Now he wished he had. "What's in it?"

  Impatience furrowed her brow, but her eyes remained wide and vacant. "You know what's in it. You watched me pack it, remember?"

  Matthew shook his head. "No, sorry, I don't."

  "Honestly, Dad. You're usually not this forgetful." She sighed. "No matter, I suppose it's the shock you're experiencing. Here..." She shoved him hard on the chest. "You'd better lie down again."

  Matthew's head hit the ground with a thud. He gritted his teeth, trying hard to ignore the ringing in his ears. Shock? Hell, he was totally confused and frustrated. For a moment, he considered asking her about her purpose in coming to Kansas. "Libby, let me up. I'm all right."

&nb
sp; "No, lie still."

  She touched his neck again. Matthew grabbed her hand and held it firmly. No way would he let her check him again. His meager defenses were frayed to the breaking point.

  "No, no, I can't."

  The sudden change of her voice sent shivers throughout his body. "You can't what?"

  "I can't tell Matthew the truth. He'd never understand."

  He froze. She was talking about him. Maybe if he played his cards right, he could have his real questions answered. "I think he'd understand," he said quietly. "Tell me what you're thinking."

  She shook her head. "He wouldn't. He's too chauvinistic."

  The word resonated like a curse, and Matthew didn't like the sound. He decided to try again. "I think he would. Why don't you pretend I'm Matthew and tell him what's on your mind?"

  He held his breath, waiting to see if she would go along with his suggestion. When she spoke, her words emerged in a garbled rush.

  "Imamedicaldoctor!"

  "What? Say it slower."

  "I'm a medical doctor."

  "Impossible." Confusion ran rampant in his mind.

  "See," she cried. "I told you he wouldn't understand."

  Her words finally registered. A doctor? She was a doctor? Christ Almighty, he would never have guessed that was her deep, dark secret. Never in a thousand years.

  "It's not that I don't understand, Libby," he pointed out. "I guess you're right. I don't understand. Why would you want to become a doc...ah...don't cry."

  Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Matthew's guilt increased. He sat up and patted her hand. "I'm sure you have a good reason to think you're a doctor."

  "Of course, I have a good reason." She sniffed and inched closer, burying her face in his shoulder. "But, if I told Matthew, he'd really hate me."

  "Hate you?" Matthew smiled and gazed at the top of her head. He might not particularly like her at times, but he certainly didn't hate her.

  "Yes. He thinks all women should do is cook, sew, clean houses. I can't do any of it. He already thinks I'm not a woman."

  Not a woman? How could he help but not think it? Her left breast pressed against his arm. Oh, she was a woman, all right, every inch of her. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore his engorged manhood. Wanting her to feel better about him, he said, "Listen, Sweetheart, I'm sorry I've made you unhappy. I didn't realize it was upsetting you this much."

  To his relief, she sighed and squeezed his arm. "You sound so like him." She giggled. "But, I doubt if he'd ever call me sweetheart."

  Matthew stiffened. He'd forgotten they had been pretending. Had he really called her such an endearing term? He stared off into the darkness, gathering his lost wits. She had him so mixed-up he didn't know what to think anymore. God, how had he gotten into this mess?

  The silence of the night gave him no answer. Since the moment she'd burst from the pantry and into his life, she'd confounded him. She aroused in him a need no other woman sparked before.

  A fantasy began to build in his mind. He pictured Libby in his arms laughing up at him. Sounds of children played in the background. His children. Their children.

  "I'm sleepy." Her voice, thick with sleep, jarred his thoughts. "I think I'd better go to bed."

  A huge yawn followed her words, and Matthew nodded, relieved she was finally tiring. "Okay. Let's go."

  He needed to be alone and think through these new feelings. A man didn't come across this kind of a revelation every day. To his surprise, Libby stood and started walking without waiting for him to follow. Only she didn't head for the house. She stepped in the opposite direction. Matthew leaped to his feet.

  "Wait. It's this way."

  "No," she said in a quiet, faraway voice. "It's this way. You know that."

  Matthew stared in the direction she pointed. Nothing stood before them but open prairie. Sighing, Matthew caught up with her. "I see. Tell you what, why don't I carry you back? I know how tired you are."

  Her soft laughter teased him. "I'm not a child anymore. I'm too old to carry to bed."

  Matthew paused. How was he going to get her back to the house without waking her? Suddenly, he had an idea. If it worked before, it might work again. "Hey, remember? I'm Matthew, not Theo. Matthew's young and strong. He would enjoy carrying you to bed."

  Her eyes traveled up and down the length of him. Matthew barely breathed. Was she going to go along with the pretense?

  "You know," she said softly. "Right now, you do sort of look like him."

  He held out his arms and gave her a smile. "Are you ready?"

  Libby stepped into his arms, and, as he lifted her, she whispered. "Do you remember how you used to throw me over your shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes and carry me to bed? It's one of my favorite memories."

  Matthew grunted. Throwing her over his shoulder was the last thing he wanted to do. She felt fine in his arms the way she was. Suddenly, he noticed she stared at his face in wonderment.

  "What?"

  "Your whiskers are showing." She ran her hand across his jaw. "You need to shave."

  He chuckled and pressed his jaw against her hand. "It's nighttime. I always shave in the morning."

  "I know you do. I don't remember them being so rough or dark before."

  Her fingertips scraped against his cheek and chin. Sensual pleasure rolled over him, and he tightened his grip on her. Holding her in his arms felt right, reaffirming the thought he'd had minutes ago. She belonged there.

  He turned toward the house. Tomorrow, when she was awake, he'd tell her how he felt.

  The house lay ahead. He could see Theo and Katherine standing outside, waiting for him to bring Libby back. Not quite ready to share her with them, he slowed his steps.

  "Dad, no matter what happens in the future, I'll always love you. Forever and forever."

  Matthew stumbled to a stop. Libby's innocent words ripped the strength from his body. His muscles twisted into painful knots. Oh, God. Elizabeth. Those were her last words.

  Matthew stared blindly across the yard. He had no right to think about Libby. Too many lives and losses haunted him.

  Elizabeth was the worst. He'd promised to keep her safe and failed. At least he could keep his final promise to stay true to her memory. As much as he desired the woman in his arms, he had to atone for his mistakes. He had to. Otherwise as a man what was he worth?

  Libby's slow, relaxed breathing told him she was sound asleep. Her head nestled between his neck and shoulder.

  Stone-faced, Matthew lengthened his stride and passed the older couple, ignoring their surprise. He entered the house and climbed the stairs and headed straight for Katherine's room. He gently lowered Libby to the bed.

  Katherine followed him. She said nothing, but, as she covered the sleeping girl, Katherine studied him with a worried frown.

  He shook his head silently and headed for the door.

  Outside, Theo stepped forward.

  "Thank you for bringing her back. I don't think I could have managed it."

  Matthew acknowledged Theo with an abrupt nod, but kept walking. Beyond the barn lonesome darkness waited him, and he needed it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Libby yawned, covering her mouth with a flour-coated hand. Flour tickled her nose, and dusted the front of her dress, and probably her hair. Four more pie shells were rolled out, waiting to be put in the oven. Katherine had to fix her first three attempts before she finally got the hang of it, but she'd done it.

  Mid-morning sunlight streamed into the heated kitchen. Libby yawned again and thought about her cool bedroom upstairs. "I can't believe how tired I am today."

  Katherine stood at the stove, stirring the boiling concoction she planned to put over berries picked in the garden. "After sleepwalking last night, you should be."

  Another yawn threatened to escape, but Katherine's words stifled it. "What? Did I walk in my sleep last night?"

  "Yes. Very much so."

  Libby frowned. She hadn't done it in years. Not s
ince her freshman year in college. "Did I do anything strange?"

  Katherine hesitated a moment. "I don't think so, but I wasn't with you."

  Libby's stomach sank. "Who was? Dad?" she asked hopefully.

  "No."

  "Oh great." Libby groaned. "Matthew."

  "Yes, he followed you at your father's request and brought you back to the house."

  "Why him?"

  "Why not?"

  "Please, Katherine, I'm not up to playing Twenty Questions."

  Katherine smiled, lifting the pot off the stove. She carried it to the table. "Because he was the only person strong enough, I suppose. Since your father wasn't able, and I wasn't awakened until later, naturally, Matthew needed to be the one."

  "Naturally." Libby's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And, I suppose, he laughed his head off the entire time, too."

  Katherine's smile slipped. "No, he didn't."

  "Ah, he wasn't pleased at having to rescue me again."

  "He appeared more sad than irritated."

  "Explain sad."

  "He walked into the bedroom, put you on the bed and walked out again. He never said a word the entire time. His expression looked like someone had walked on his grave."

  Libby closed her eyes, hating her faulty memory. What in the heck happened between her and Matthew while she sleepwalked?

  "Elizabeth walked in her sleep, too."

  Libby opened her eyes and sat in the chair beside Katherine. "She did?"

  "Yes, John let the family dog sleep in Elizabeth's room. She couldn't leave the house without the dog waking us."

  "Dad did too. Only it wasn't a dog. He installed a ringer over the outside doors. Anytime one of the doors opened, the noise woke him up."

  "I know, he told me."

  Libby grinned. "Mom said she thought they'd never get a full night's sleep when I was little."

  Katherine spooned the heavy syrup over the berries Libby had already placed in each baked pie shell. "I know the feeling. Once we sold our place and started our move here, Elizabeth stopped sleepwalking. John believed she was an extra-sensitive child, aware of everyone's moods. Both my husband and I were apprehensive about leaving the safety of our old home and moving to an unknown land where there was so much danger."