Carried Away by Love

by Vickery, Rebecca J.

  "I plum forgot to tell Maria something. I'll be back shortly." He closed the door behind him.

  Shrugging, Skye walked toward the third stall on the left. "Okay, big boy, I hear you are full of yourself... Ahh—" A yelp escaped as large hands grabbed her just before she entered the stall.

  "Close your eyes," a familiar male voice said softly in her ear.

  "Clint," she laughed, "what are you up to?"

  He turned her toward him, and insisted, "Close your eyes and stand here for just one minute."

  "All right, but only for a minute. I've got work to do." After a few seconds, she thought she smelled sulphur, of all things.

  Then he was back and took her hand. "Keep them closed. Closed..." He positioned her inside the stall, and then said, "Open them."

  A blanket lay spread over the clean hay, and red-globed candles hung around the walls. The sulphur-tipped, long matches to light them explained the smell. Heart-shaped pillows were neatly piled on one end of the blanket, while the other end held a large white teddy bear holding a red box of candy. A huge bunch of red roses and baby's breath, tied with a large pink bow, rested beside the bear.

  "I couldn't decide between candy and flowers, and then I saw the bear..." Clint's voice died as he watched tears fill her eyes. "Oh, Skye – I didn't mean to make you cry." He reached to touch her cheek. "Please, don't cry."

  Mr. Harbin and Danny played their parts well in getting her here and sounding the alarm when she arrived. Charlie and the men made themselves scarce so she and Clint could have a special moment. She was definitely home, among people who cared for her. And this wonderful man had chosen her to be his Valentine, once again.

  "You silly man," she looked up and smiled through her tears. "Don't you know happy tears when you see them?" She stepped into his arms.

  * * * * *

  Clint's head rested on her right arm, and she idly slid the fingers of her left hand through his hair. "We have to get dressed. Charlie will be back any time now." Skye really didn't want to move yet. Her body still hummed with pleasure from their lovemaking. Two years had been much too long to wait. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen again.

  "No, he won't come back until I give the signal. Not unless he wants to hunt another job." Clint chuckled low in his throat.

  "And the signal is?"

  "I'd forgotten how nosy you are." He kissed the tip of her nose. "It's a secret thing – between guys." He kissed her lips, careful not to let it become too involved, and then rolled away. "But you're right. We still have chores to do. Where are my jeans?"

  She reached beyond her head and grabbed the thick denim. "Here, I think these are yours. Harold called – I have news about Artie."

  "Yep, you'd look like a penny stick of peppermint lost in a fifty pound feed sack in these." He laughed at his own joke as he tugged on his briefs and the jeans. "What about Artie?"

  Skye loved to hear him happy and she laughed with him and told him about the conversation with Harold while pulling on her clothing. He'd been so sweet, having the barn warm for her, planning the gifts, and then letting her know 'in no uncertain terms' how much he'd missed their lovemaking.

  When she stood to find her boots, Clint caught her hand.

  "Wait a minute, please. Skye," he said softly, then went down on one knee. "I kept this, hoping and praying you'd come back to me. Can we try to do it better this time, sweetheart? Will you marry me?" He held out the heart-shaped diamond ring he'd given her here, in this very stall, three years before.

  "Oh, Clint." She'd yearned for this and done her share of praying, but she never expected it to happen, definitely not this soon. There were still too many things to talk about. The old fear raised its ugly head. What if...

  "Skye, talk to me. Tell me how you feel. I know I love you, and I never want you to leave me again. Talk to me, sweetheart." Clint kept his voice gentle as he saw the fear and doubt cloud her eyes.

  "I love you, Clint. You are the only man I can ever picture loving me, the only man I love and want to be with. But...then I get scared. What if I can't be just a ranch wife or a mother, or whatever you want me to be? And the panic starts, I need to back away...to run. But I realize I have nowhere else I want to go." She shook her head. "That doesn't even make sense to me, and I'm the one who said it. How can you love such a mixed up person?"

  "I think you just need some reassurance." He sat down on the now-rumpled blanket and pulled her onto his lap. "I want you to be you – Skye – the woman I love. If you want a job other than here at the ranch, we'll work it out. If you don't want kids, we'll deal with it. But we better not have too many sessions like this, or it will be out of our control." He grimaced as he realized he hadn't even thought of protection. He hadn't intended to make love to her this soon, but he could never resist her.

  At her frown, he said, "Sweetheart, I don't want to make you be or do anything other than who you are. I do want you to be my wife, and to love me – and to let me love you. I don't want to own you, but I do want to keep you safe and have you with me as much as possible." He planted kisses along the side of her face down to her chin. "I can't get enough of you."

  Then he went on, "But I'm a big guy. I can deal with the rejection if you have to go off on business or to get away occasionally. However, I hope you won't complain if I try to make life so good here you will want to stay all the time."

  Skye laughed, and then she put her forehead to his. "Yes, I will marry you – if you're sure you won't hate me when I want to go on a trip once in a while, or go shopping in a big city, or to see a play or the opera?"

  "I, Clint Sanders, swear I will not hate you under any circumstances. Now give me that finger, woman." He held up her ring.

  She offered him her left hand. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

  Clint kissed her senseless as he slid the engagement ring on the proper finger.

  The End

  Rena's Summer Vacation

  Author's Note

  The Chattooga River, with its wild areas of whitewater and excellent trout fishing, flows along part of the state border between South Carolina and Georgia. The camping, hiking, and trout fishing my husband and I enjoyed there will always hold unforgettable meaning and fond memories. I caught my first trout and spent my first night camping under the stars along the banks of the Chattooga.

  My husband and I would like to offer a special THANK YOU to all who protect, preserve, and enjoy the wilderness and beauty of the Chattooga River National Scenic Wilderness Area and our many parks throughout the United States.

  **The small town of River Cove in this story is entirely fictional. No towns exist within this National Wilderness Area.**

  Chapter One

  "My goodness, I don't remember it being this humid." Rena stepped from the air-conditioned car onto the driveway and almost wilted at the blast of direct sunlight and stifling heat.

  "Not always this bad, ma'am. But we're in for a storm later this evening." The driver removed her luggage from the trunk, and then swiped at his forehead with his shirtsleeve. "Do you want me to carry these in for you?"

  "Just onto the porch, please. I can get them from there." She dug around in her large handbag until she found the house key and her wallet. A low beep indicated a call on her cell phone, but she ignored it as she led the way to the front door.

  "Thank you, ma'am. Hope you have a nice stay," the hired driver said, tipping his baseball cap as he accepted his fare and generous tip. "Be mindful of getting caught out in the storm later. Promises to be a real gully-washer." Then he walked back to his car and drove away.

  Rena breathed in the cooler, far less humid air released from the house as she opened the front door. Thank heaven for central air. She rolled her large suitcase into the foyer, carried in her tote and garment bag, and then allowed herself to take in her surroundings.

  Childhood memories of tossing wet swimsuits and towels aside while racing through to the kitchen and the subsequent scolding from Aunt Bertie, her father's
sister, made her smile. She ran her hand over the smooth walnut of the antique deacon's bench as she put down her purse. Still in the exact spot as when she last visited.

  Her smile faded when she saw there were no fresh flowers on the hall table. With their aunt gone, Katie hadn't bothered, and Rena experienced a slight twinge of sadness. Funny how such a small thing means so much. She shrugged one shoulder and reminded herself of how busy Katie's life had become.

  The low beep of the cell phone distracted Rena from her thoughts, and this time she answered. "Hello."

  "Rena, are you at the house? Sorry I couldn't be there when you arrived, but you're in your old room, if that's all right." Her cousin's voice sped through the words without waiting for an answer. "Cold drinks and sandwich stuff are in the fridge. Sheesh, they're calling for me again – gotta go now, but don't forget to be in work clothes at six and I'll pick you up."

  "My old room's fine and I'll be ready," responded Rena, unsure how much Katie actually heard as the line went dead. Chuckling a bit at her never-changing, always energetic relative and best friend forever, she began the task of settling into the familiar old house.

  * * * * *

  Travis watched people of various ages, sizes, and race as they passed his location, skirting carefully around him, not getting too close. He couldn't blame them since he'd not showered or shaved in a couple of days. With the high humidity and the heat, he offended even himself.

  The scent of grilling burgers, sausages, and onions reached his nose and his mouth watered in response. His stomach growled. He'd have to find something to eat soon, or he wouldn't be up to thinking about the task ahead.

  His gaze skimmed past his target without stopping until his brain recorded and recognized her image, then he focused his eyes directly upon her. She laughingly spoke to Kathryn Caldwell as she closed a car door. Katie had parked the SUV across the road and about a half-block south of him.

  Serena Caldwell looked better in her current attire than in the expensive suit she wore in the photo he'd seen a couple of days ago. A pink knit tank top covered shapely breasts while revealing tanned arms and shoulders, and faded denim hugged her slim thighs. A plaid cotton shirt was tied casually around her waist by the sleeves, obviously in hope the evening would be cooler. Her riotous dark curls were drawn back into a ponytail, but unruly wisps escaped to frame her face and neck.

  Travis pushed away from the concrete wall and sauntered across the road, turning to follow the two women along the sidewalk. Keeping a safe distance behind, he trailed Rena and Katie to a large warehouse where huge double doors hung open. Several small groups stood around talking and he slipped inside, almost unnoticed.

  The long building contained a tow motor and two forklifts near odd platforms and scaffolding erected beside parade floats in the early stages of construction. Building materials, artificial flowers, and bolts of bright fabric were stacked along the walls with the predominant colors being red, white, and blue. Large industrial fans provided extra ventilation, but did little to cool the muggy air.

  Tables in one corner held bottled water and tubs filled with ice and canned drinks, but the covered containers of sandwiches and snacks were what caught his eye. Travis put a hand to his stomach as it growled yet again.

  He temporarily lost sight of Rena, but soon found her when she and Katie, along with several other people, climbed onto a platform near the back of the warehouse. Katie held large drawings in her hands and pointed to the paper then toward the float. She owned a successful outfitter's shop on Main Street and would naturally sponsor a float for the Independence Day celebration.

  Travis wove his way through the scattered crowd while maintaining a view of Rena. Finally reaching his goal, he grabbed three sandwiches, a bag of pretzels, two brownies, and two bottles of water. He sidled away carefully until he reached the end of a stack of lumber. Propping his hip on the wood, he sat his water down and wolfed down the food, glancing at Rena between bites. He drank one bottle of water without stopping, then savored the other more carefully.

  Maybe this won't be so bad after all...

  Chapter Two

  Rena and Katie giggled when an arm fell off the male mannequin they were attempting to dress in an Outfitter Dreams tee shirt.

  "Drat it! Hold him still, Rena. I can't get this arm to snap back into place."

  "I'm trying, ugh...I'm trying. Don't push so...hard—eek!" Rena fell back onto her butt, the mannequin landing on top of her, its head buried face down between her breasts while one of her knees stuck up on each side of the waist.

  Katie became totally useless, dissolving into a laughing lump waving around an unattached arm. Laughter spread through the entire group of volunteers working atop the platform.

  Rena struggled to push the dummy away, but couldn't get any leverage in her current position. She knew she must look a sight with the mannequin face down on top of her.

  "Here, let me help," a deep gravelly voice offered, and the over-sized doll was lifted and set aside.

  "Thank you, kind sir," Rena said. "At least there's one gentleman here tonight." She cast her stare around at some of the other guys, who only laughed harder at her scolding. She accepted his hand to help her rise and looked up into storm-cloud-gray eyes just as a loud rumble of thunder filled the building.

  The lights flickered and everyone went silent, holding their collective breath, hoping the power would stay on. The sudden driving rain pounded against the metal roof and the air inside the warehouse began to cool.

  "The storm finally made it," he said. "Are you okay?"

  Rena realized she still held onto his hand and let go. "Fine, except for my pride. I'm Rena, and the giggling mess over there is Katie. Are you new here?" she finished, knowing she would have definitely noticed him before if he'd been around.

  "Just passing through, and a friend asked me to stop by." Well, that wasn't too far from the truth. "You guys go all out for the Fourth, don't you?"

  Rena laughed. "When else can grown-ups ride floats, shoot fireworks, and eat all the burgers and ice cream they want?"

  "You have a point." Travis couldn't take his eyes from the beautiful woman before him. Her smile came naturally to well-shaped lips, and she didn't seem at all snobbish or condescending, in spite of his two-day's growth of whiskers and unwashed condition.

  Katie finally regained enough control to stick her hand out and greet him. "Hi, I'm Katie Caldwell. I own Outfitter Dreams. Thanks for saving my cuz from the lecherous mannequin. Too bad I left my phone in the car or that pic would have gone out to the internet world." She worked hard to stifle more giggles.

  "I'm Travis. Nice to meet you. Let me fix this for you." He lifted the mannequin again and snapped the arm in place. "Now where do you want this lecherous male?"

  As easily as that, he insinuated himself into their lives.

  The lights flickered on and off a few more times, but the storm moved away, leaving a gentle drizzle of rain behind. Plywood, framing lumber, styrofoam, fabric, glue, and nails disappeared at an alarming rate while the floats took on shape and color. Travis held lumber in place, sanded rough edges, and generally tried to be useful.

  The workers at other floats began to thin out as the hour grew late. Soon Katie called a halt for her group. "Almost midnight, everyone. Great work! See you back here at six-thirty tomorrow evening. Those of you riding the float – be sure to drop by the shop tomorrow for first fittings on your gear."

  Rena cleared away scraps of material from the platform and float surface, saving some while trashing unusable pieces. When she began to climb down carrying a large bucket of garbage, Travis reached up and took it from her.

  "Don't fall again." He hastily set down the load and reached to steady her. Her curves felt just right beneath his hands.

  As she stepped off the bottom rung, she turned to face him. "Wouldn't you save me...again?" Her hands went to his forearms as he held her waist and she laughed up at him. Something about this man created the urge to
flirt – bat her eyes like a vamp, pout after moistening her lips, and give him a come-hither toss of her long hair – such as she'd never dared to do.

  Green eyes met his, and they both stood still. Tingles of electricity excited his skin everywhere her fingers touched. Hypnotized by her gaze, he softly agreed, "Absolutely, anytime."

  "Come on, Rena. We gotta go. I have to open the store at nine in the morning. Won't leave us much time for sleep."

  They jumped apart at Katie's interruption.

  "Will we see you tomorrow night, Travis?"

  "If I'm welcome, I'd like to come. Maybe I can help," Travis offered.

  "The more the merrier, right, Rena?"

  "Of course. Thanks for the help tonight." Rena trailed after Katie, but glanced back to wave at the man she realized could steal her heart without half trying if she wasn't careful.

  Travis found a pay phone in front of a convenience store and dialed the number he'd been given. "I made contact. Now what?"

  Chapter Three

  "Hi, Uncle Avery. Yes, I arrived, safe and sound. How are you?" Rena's last living relative on her mother's side of the family, and guardian of her trust fund, kept close tabs on her.

  They chatted for several minutes as Rena laid out clothes to wear to the shop. "I should be back on July tenth. Can't those papers wait for a signature? My birthday isn't 'til the end of next month, after all, and this is my first vacation in forever. Well, okay – fax them to me at Outfitter Dreams, please. The number should be on the list I left with your secretary." Upon reaching twenty-five, Rena's trust would be fully under her control, as would the shares from the commercial construction company her maternal grandfather began almost a hundred years ago. She could do what she wanted with her investments and funds then, without seeking her uncle's permission, or having to sign all these papers for him.