Eric wondered if Mariah’s hands were calloused. He hadn’t noticed when she’d touched him, but he’d bet they were.
Hard hands, soft heart. Just like his grandmother.
“So why did you do it?” he asked. “Why didn’t you just give up and let it go—start somewhere else? This place must have a lot of painful memories for you.”
She looked surprised. “Painful? Maybe. But the Double M is home to me. It reminds me of the good times. Those memories were the only things that kept me going after my parents died. That and knowing that someday I’d come back here. This is the only place I feel safe, at peace with what happened.”
“At peace with it, or bound to it? Maybe it’s time you let go of the past, moved on to a new future.” He scowled. “Sorry, none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay. This is my future. I have Jet now. He’ll make the ranch successful. Profitable.”
She looked at him as she said that last word as if she thought profit was the only thing he cared about.
“That’s good for the ranch, but what about you?”
“I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
Dreams again. Eric looked around at the cozy house, the stately barns. The Double M was the kind of place that inspired dreams. It made him think of cutting down Christmas trees by hand and dragging them through the snow to the house; sipping brandy in front of the fire; fishing a quiet stream.
Only none of those dreams meant anything to a person alone, like Mariah. What good was a Christmas tree without presents underneath it for a family? What good was a fire without a warm wife to curl up with? A fishing stream without a son to teach to fish and respect the land.
Mariah’s ranch, her mountain, embodied the durability of the earth and the cycle of life that required a mate. So why did she dream her dreams alone?
He would have asked, if right then the silver in Mariah’s eyes hadn’t melted into shimmering mercury pools, and if he hadn’t known she was thinking about how much she’d lost all those years ago, and how much she still had to lose now. Besides, who was he to judge someone for choosing to be alone, when he’d made the same choice himself?
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, anxious to bring the conversation back to safer ground. “So this trustee, your neighbor Granger, raises horses, too?”
“Among other things. He grows wheat and alfalfa, and runs a few head of cattle.”
“And you and Jet are a threat to his business?”
“I suppose.”
“Come on, Mariah, you’re not helping me here.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just hard to believe...” She sighed, absently scratching the gray horse’s jaw as the mare chewed. “Will was never friendly, not even to my parents. After they died, he tried to buy the Double M. He still tries pretty regularly, and I always turn him down.”
Eric had more questions, but he decided not to press the issue too hard, with her feeling down already. “You can’t think of anyone else who would want to hurt you?”
She shook her head.
Eric couldn’t believe anyone would want to hurt her, either, despite the fact that just yesterday, for a little while, he’d believed she’d been responsible for his brother’s disappearance. In some ways, he wished he could still believe it. Hating her made it easier to deny that he felt anything for her. That he worried about her. That he wondered about her. What her lips would feel like under his. What kind of little sounds she might make as he kissed her.
He shifted gears so quickly he nearly dropped his transmission. Thinking like that was a dangerous diversion on a warm, starry night all alone with a beautiful woman—a woman who kick-started his engine every time she looked at him with those brilliant, innocent eyes.
“You still haven’t remembered anything from Thursday?”
“No. So what are we going to do now?”
Staring at a jewel more brilliant than any star in the night sky, Eric knew what he’d like to do. But that was out of reach to him. Even if she was willing—and he didn’t really think she was—he couldn’t make love to her. Not if he wanted to walk away whole when it was over. And he would have to walk away, because she had her ranch. She had her dreams. And they didn’t include him.
“Eric?” she asked. “What do we do now?”
He picked himself up off the fence. “Come on.”
“Where?”
He grabbed her hand and tugged. “It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
The anticipation in her voice released a warm flood of gratefulness in his belly. She sounded like a child at Christmas. He could almost hear the silver bells tinkling. And he was happy to have lifted her heavy mood.
Pushing open the door to the equipment shed with one hand, he flipped the light switch with the other. Without waiting for her, he climbed up onto the seat of her dad’s old tractor.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
When he looked down, she was standing with her feet apart, her hands on her hips, her head cocked and her eyes sparkling. For a moment he wanted to forget the tractor, turn on the radio propped on the floorboard to some slow station, take her up in his arms and dance with her. Just imagining the feel of her chin tucked in the crook of his neck, her breast pressed to his chest, her thighs brushing his, brought a pulse to his groin. His body tightened, hardening.
He cleared his throat. “I need a drumroll, please.”
Playing along, Mariah beat her hands rhythmically on the fender of the tractor. Eric pulled out the choke, pushed in the clutch and prayed for luck.
The old engine coughed and sputtered, then caught. The smile on Mariah’s face widened as the noise rose in a steady crescendo, finally settling into an all-out roar. Eric took a moment just to revel in her pleasure, then waved her back.
He put the tractor in gear and drove out the barn door. Cruising around the circular drive out front, he shifted gears and raised and lowered the front-end loader in mock salute to Mariah, who stood in the center of the circle, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. He couldn’t hear her over the engine, but he knew she was laughing. Watching her like that made him laugh, too. He could look at her like that all night.
Finally he stopped the tractor and shut down the engine. She rushed over to him as he hopped down, and he found himself unexpectedly close to her. Close enough to kiss her.
“You did it! You fixed it!” She looked up at him, her lips parted slightly. “Thank you, Eric.”
He didn’t think she was breathing. He tipped his head closer, testing her. He was always testing her, wasn’t he? Maybe testing himself, as well.
He dipped his head until it hovered a hairbreadth above hers. Until he could feel the breeze from the flutter of her eyelashes. If he lowered his head another fraction, he could brush her lips with his, just a hint of a kiss, a stroke more of his breath than his mouth. Just thinking about it sent a burst of desire exploding through him.
The little worry-furrow deepened on her brow, but she didn’t run. He should know by now. She never did what he expected.
He raised his head, shocked at the rate at which his lungs screamed for oxygen. He hadn’t even touched her. What power did she have over him, to reduce him to a single raw nerve so quickly and still seem so unaffected herself?
Damn him and his little tests, anyway. She had yet to pass with anything less than flying colors. He was the one who kept failing.
Cursing himself, he walked away without looking back. He couldn’t look back. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to leave.
Mariah stepped out of the shower and hung the damp towel on the rack next to the linen closet. Running a comb through her wet hair, she studied her naked body in the mirror.
It wasn’t a bad body, she supposed. A little on the boyish side, not voluptuous, the way her mother had been. Though years ago, in school, the boys had seemed appreciative of what curves she did have. She wondered what a grown man would think of her body. A man like Eric Randall.
What had ever made her think having Eric at the ranch would be safe?
He jeopardized everything she had worked so hard to achieve in the past twelve years—peace, happiness, contentment, if not fulfillment. He upset the precarious balance she’d found between wanting everything and accepting what she couldn’t have.
His physical allure alone could drive her crazy. Then on top of that, as she’d watched him scrabble around the floor of his brother’s rental cabin, the broken remnants of Mike’s life sifting through his fingers, she’d realized he possessed a strength even greater than muscle and bone—a strength of heart, an ability to love, deeply and forever.
He made her wonder what it would be like to be the object of a love that powerful.
She wished she dared try to find out. She had a feeling it would be all-consuming, infiltrating every pore, every aspect of her life.
She let her fingers fall from her lips, slide down her neck and splay across her chest. She closed her eyes and imagined his hands stroking her, lifting her. How would it feel when the silky shadow on his jaw razed her sensitive skin? Just thinking about it caused heat to pool inside her, swirling like a gentle bath.
Her breathing deepened as her hands roamed down over her abdomen to her thighs and then back to her breasts. She imagined the feel as he took her in his mouth, wet and warm. Were his eyes open or closed? She opened her own eyes to find out but saw only her own flushed reflection in the mirror.
Feeling foolish, she dropped her hands. Eric Randall wanted only one thing from her—the truth about his brother. Even if he was interested in her, she couldn’t have a man, a family, of her own. She couldn’t risk it.
Besides, even if she could have someone, if she ever found a man who could love her, a man she could love in return, he would be someone patient and gentle. Someone who would give her time to work through her fears. Definitely not some overbearing, hair-trigger-tempered, sexual powder keg, with a grudge.
Laying her watch on the bedside table, she picked up the yellow T-shirt she’d borrowed from him this morning. When she held it close, she thought she could still detect a hint of him, a very male aroma—soap and aftershave and musk.
Refusing to question why, she slipped the shirt over her head. As big and cozy as any of her nightgowns, the shirt made her feel safe.
Pulling back the yellow-and-white-flowered comforter on her bed, she slipped between the sheets. The quiet surrounded her like a living thing, its stealthy fingers stealing over her. What would it be like to hear the creak of the mattress as a partner settled into the bed with her? Hear the rustle of dark hair against the mate to her pillow? To laugh at a soft snore in the darkness?
Chastising her foolishness, she turned her head away from the empty side of the bed. She fell asleep reminding herself that she’d come home to her mountain, after years away, to find peace. She liked the quiet.
At least she used to.
Chapter 7
“I’ve come up with a way to help me remember,” Mariah said, staring at him with inviting amethyst eyes.
Eric rolled his eyes up at her, suddenly glad he hadn’t made any breakfast to go along with his coffee. After a nearly sleepless night, he had a feeling his appetite wouldn’t survive this discussion. “How?”
“I’m going to ride back up the mountain. Retrace my steps that day.”
The bottom dropped out of Eric’s stomach. “No way.”
“Why not?” Mariah planted her hands on her hips.
“It’s too dangerous for you.”
“For me? I’m not the one who came down from the last trip with a chest that could pass muster as full camouflage.”
“Exactly. Who’s to say next time, you won’t? Forget it. You’re not going.”
“Since when are you my guardian?” Her cheeks turned cherry red as she spoke.
Since I agreed to this crazy deal. Since I kidnapped you. Since I put you in danger by letting the man in black see us together.
Since you got under my skin.
He opened his mouth to lob another round but never got the words out.
“Hi, y’all!” Gigi bobbed into the room. Her arm rose upward to reach a glass from the cabinet, but she stopped, then slowly turned around, her face furrowed. The silence at the table was deafening.
“Did I interrupt something?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Eric squinted his eyes at Mariah, who retrieved a glass for a stunned-looking Gigi and poured her friend a glass of OJ.
Mariah smiled. “Would you mind stopping by and feeding the animals for me this evening, Gigi? I have some business to take care of, and I’m afraid I might not be back in time.”
“Sure.” Gigi’s head swiveled from Eric to Mariah and back. “No problem.”
“Great.” Mariah looked pointedly at Eric. “I’m leaving as soon as the kids are gone. If you want to tag along, be ready.”
“I really don’t think—” Eric frowned. “Kids?”
He’d hardly finished the word when, out the kitchen window, he saw a blue bus with Pine Valley Youth Home blocked in large letters along the side pull up the drive. The vehicle sputtered to a stop in front of the barn, belching a black cloud out of its tailpipe. A dozen noisy, rambunctious children spilled out of its doors.
“Kids,” Mariah said.
“Thank God,” the bus driver said to Mariah as the last child hopped out. “They’re all yours. Now I can rest.”
Mariah had a feeling she wasn’t the only one who looked forward to Wednesday. She had turned to head to the barn and help Gigi round up the kids when she caught sight of a sandy cowlick pressed against the back window.
She sighed deeply. Tucker.
Walking alongside the bus to the back window, Mariah pasted on a smile. Tucker had been at the Pine Valley home for youths nearly two months and had been coming to the Double M for the kids’ weekly riding lesson for the better part of that time, but Mariah had yet to coax him anywhere near a horse.
She knocked on the bus window by his head “Come on, Tuck. Up and at ’em!”
The twelve-year-old sunk lower against the seat cushion. “Don’t wanna.”
“Everyone’s waiting. You don’t want to make the others miss out on riding time, do you?”
“Don’t care.”
Mariah ground her molars. The other kids seemed to love their weekly trip to the Double M almost as much as Mariah loved having them. She’d been donating her time—and the use of her horses—to the group home since she’d returned to the Double M after her own three-and-a-half-year stint under the state’s care. If these kids found even a fraction of the peace and healing on the ranch that she had found there, then all her efforts would be worthwhile.
She was good with kids, and her own experiences made her time with these children extra special. Besides, these kids might be as close as she ever got to having children of her own.
But Tucker seemed determined to push off her advances. The harder she tried, the further he withdrew.
He was a real tough guy. Or at least he thought so.
Mariah let her breath out slowly and forced a firm but light tone to her voice. She didn’t think it would help for Tuck to know he was breaking her heart.
“Well, at least get out of the bus and come down to the barn where I can keep an eye on you. Let Mr. Staley get some rest.”
Mr. Staley seconded that with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, kid. Let me rest.”
Slowly Tucker disembarked and trailed after Mariah to the barn, his sneakers kicking up rocks as he dragged his feet along.
Gigi was already at the barn, breaking up the usual who-got-to-ride-what-horse squabbles and overseeing the grooming and saddling. Mariah count
ed herself lucky again to have Gigi’s help. Not just any veterinarian would take two hours out of her business day every week to help shepherd a scraggly-looking bunch of kids through basic horsemanship lessons, but Gigi had been helping Mariah with the lessons every week without fail for nearly two years, ever since Mariah had asked her if she knew of any horses for sale in the area that were suitable for the kids—extra gentle.
As Gigi walked to her position at the far end of the corral, Mariah glanced up to the house. Eric sat on the porch steps, his long legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his elbows, apparently taking it all in. Even at fifty yards, she felt the weight of his stare. And the heat.
“Hey, Mariah, are you ready?” Gigi called.
Mariah snapped back to attention and threw her buddy a mock salute. “Let the games begin!”
Forty-five minutes into the lesson, while Gigi supervised the gang’s rest-and-water break, Mariah went in search of Tucker. She wanted to make sure he was okay, and make one last attempt to get him to join the group.
She worried at first when she couldn’t find him, then stopped, hearing a telltale scuffling on the ceiling above the tack room. He must be in the loft. She climbed halfway up the ladder and stopped, her breath frozen in her chest. Tucker wasn’t alone.
“I don’t blame you, kid. You wouldn’t catch me down there, either. I don’t know what all the excitement is about. I mean horses are just dumb animals, aren’t they?”
Mariah frowned. What was Eric doing? He was going to ruin what little progress she had made with the boy. She started to climb the rest of the way up to the loft, then stopped again when she heard Tucker’s wistful sigh.
“Yeah. Just a bunch of dumb animals.”
“I mean, it’s not like we couldn’t ride if we wanted to, right?”
“Right.”
“We just aren’t interested.”
“Not interested.”
That was it, she was going to chew Eric Randall out royally for his interference. She raised her hand to the top rung.
Virgin without a Memory Page 10