“Yes, ma’am,” Reid replied.
The ride back was as pleasant as the ride out. Neither mentioned the incident at the old homestead, and to Heather it seemed as if it had only been a figment of her imagination. Her regret was that it seemed to take almost no time at all to return to the stable.
When they reached the ranch, Tom and Gregg had already left. Other than Reid, there were two ranch hands on duty tonight and Sunday. After she and Reid unsaddled, brushed, and watered their horses, Reid joined the other men for dinner and Heather went to her own house alone.
The first thing she did was to take a frozen potpie and put it in the oven. Then, feeling the muscles of her thighs begin to tighten from the unaccustomed length of the ride, she ran hot water into the tub and, while it was filling, undressed.
Emitting a deep, heartfelt sigh of gratitude, Heather slipped into the bath. It had been a long day, but vastly different from the day before. From early this morning until she turned on the water for her bath, Heather had not stopped for more than five minutes at a time.
She could feel the hot water working its magic beneath the layers of her skin. The soothing and gentle heat drew the fatigue from her muscles and Heather’s mind and body become separate entities. The scented bath oil she had liberally used coated her skin with a delicious silkiness further added to her comfort.
Slowly Heather began to knead her thigh in an effort to force her protesting muscles to loosen. A smile played on her lips when she thought about the day.
The morning had been perfect, filled with activity and satisfaction. By noon Reid’s clay bust had cooled, and she had examined it minutely to make sure the firing process had been perfect. It had, and she had been relieved. Heather’s biggest worry when working with firing clay had been the final process. Because she was blind, she could not check on the work as it was being heated and then cooled. Even with the special computer modifications, which automatically set the temperatures and checked on the clay’s progress, the procedure had always been a slow torture until Heather could actually “see” the finished piece.
Heather sighed as she moved her hands to her other thigh and began to manipulate the muscles. She remembered again, vividly, her sensation of pleasure with the finished bust. It had been a very different feeling from when she’d completed her other pieces. Usually some depression came with the completion of a work, but today another reaction had overtaken her. The feeling was a combination of the satisfaction of a job well done and the excitement of the knowledge she would be spending the afternoon with the living, talking, and animated version of what her hands had been holding.
As Heather’s thigh muscles relaxed, she sank lower in the tub. Only then did she allow herself to think about what had happened at the homestead. The kiss they had shared. Heather realized it had not been like the first one, so many weeks ago. The suddenness of its intensity had robbed her of her will. Her entire body had surrendered to his, and she’d been unable to prevent it. She also realized, belatedly, she had sensed a similar response in Reid. Only he’d been strong and had stopped himself.
She also learned something else today about Reid. Emma Kline was right. Reid was not your average cowboy, not even your above-average foreman. He spoke too well, too eloquently. He bared feelings she would never have expected when he spoke about the land and, even more so, when he spoke of the camp and the children.
I’ve learned something about me, too, Heather admitted. I’ve learned I’m capable of making a fool of myself. For the first time since meeting Reid, Heather understood what was happening to her. Not once in her life had she ever just bumped into someone. She had an unexplained form of radar that always let her know where the people around her were. It was a sense she had developed and one that had never failed her. It hadn’t today; she had just ignored it and ended up in Reid’s arms. He must think me a perfect fool, she thought, embarrassed by her earlier, seemingly wanton actions. Why am I acting like this? Why does Reid affect me this way? She asked herself the same question she’d been asking almost every day.
Shaking her head, Heather bent forward and opened the tub’s drain. She stood and reached for the large terry bath sheet, and when she stepped from the tub, wrapped herself in its softness.
After drying, Heather applied powder and put on a bathrobe. She slid her feet along the carpet, searching for her slippers until remembering she hadn’t brought them in.
“Polaris,” she called. The dog come into the bathroom. “Slippers,” she told him. Thirty seconds later, Polaris dropped the slippers at her feet. “Good boy,” she said as she put them on.
Heather grew hungry and went to the kitchen to check the oven timer. Barely an hour had passed since she’d put the frozen chicken pie in the oven. She had another few minutes before it would be ready. It was enough time to dress, she decided as she walked to her bedroom. She chose a soft white cotton dress that flowed smoothly from her neck to her ankles. Discarding her slippers, Heather put on a pair of leather-tong sandals. Only then did she deem herself ready for dinner.
~~~
Dinner had been good, but lonely, Heather thought, placing an tape in the deck and sitting back comfortably on the couch. A few seconds later, John Denver’s voice floated in the air.
I’m lonely, Heather thought, because of the time this afternoon I spent with Reid. Now it seemed like the ride had been months ago, instead of hours. She had enjoyed being with him. She had more than just enjoyed it, Heather admitted. Much more.
Listening to the refrains of “Rocky Mountain High,” she thought of the talk she and Emma had had the other night. Emma’s story had affected her deeply, and she knew it had not been easy for Emma to speak of her past. Heather had always suspected something, but until the older woman told her, she had not been sure.
Suddenly Heather stood. Without understanding how, she reached a decision about her life. Striding purposefully to the stereo, she turned it off. Then she walked to the front door, opened it, and stepped outside.
Heather sniffed the air and picked up the scent of moisture. Maybe a rain shower, she thought as she descended the front steps. On the ground, she paused as a chill rushed across her skin, a chill the coolness of the late-night mountain air had not caused. With a deeply drawn breath, she began to walk toward the small house Reid Hunter occupied.
A tremor passed through her, emphasizing how nervous she was. She’d never done anything like this before; but, she knew if she didn’t act, if she did not take her destiny into her own hands, she might lose something very, very important. She might lose the love she now knew had been growing steadily within her heart.
She was going to do what she had to. She was going to confront the man responsible, and one way or another, something would be settled tonight.
ELEVEN
Reid paced the confines of his small living room. The energy possessing him made him feel like a caged animal. His reflection in the window caused him to pause and grin. He looked like one, too. He wore only his jeans. His bare chest, with its mat of curly hair, looked as menacing in the glass as had the scowl on his face.
After the ride this afternoon, he had eaten dinner with the two men who were on weekend duty and afterward had gone to the north range to check on the foals let loose there yesterday. Everything had been all right and he had returned by ten. It was now almost midnight, but Reid did not want to go to bed. After what had happened today with Heather, he knew he would not be able to sleep.
Reid paused in his pacing and thought again about Heather Strand. He knew she was a strong woman, but at the same time, he realized her vulnerability and her inexperience. What was obvious to him was the fact her emotions were telling him a story he was afraid to accept. Afraid, he admitted, because if he let his guard down for even an instant, his own repressed emotions would burst forth, a mirror image of Heather’s, and he knew that it could not happen.
It couldn’t happen because ten years ago he’d given up the ability to be on equal terms with
Heather Strand, when he’d given up his rights, and money, in order to change what his life had become. Reid also understood there could be no future for Heather and himself on that unequal basis—his pride would not allow it.
“Damn!” he muttered as he sank into a chair. But sitting was no good. Reid stood and went to the window then froze when he saw a billowy form change from a shadow into a walking ghost. Not a ghost, rather, Heather Strand in a white dress, walking in his direction.
Fascinated, Reid watched her approach. Like a softly moving vision, her footsteps secure as she moved inexorably, he realized suddenly, toward this very house. She came nearer and, as the light from his porch reached her face, Reid saw the power of determination riding her features. A moment later, she disappeared from sight. Then came the low knock on his door.
“Reid?” her voice called softly. Only five steps were necessary for him to reach the door and open it.
“Is something wrong?” he asked quickly.
“Yes. Invite me in.”
“You’re invited,” he told her and stepped back.
Heather’s pulse raced as she stepped inside his house. Her senses reeled under the assault of Reid’s living quarters: the smell of tobacco, of the old furniture, and, above all, of Reid himself attacked her every step.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned that something bad had brought her here at this late hour.
“Us,” she said.
“Us?” he echoed, stunned by her words. “Heather, there is no us.”
“There is. Reid, please don’t make this hard, but I’ve got to say what’s on my mind.” Heather paused, her heart beating wildly while she waited for Reid to say something, anything. Of course, he didn’t—just as she’d known he wouldn’t. “You’re making this difficult.”
“It’s not difficult, it’s impossible,” Reid said, knowing he had no choice, hurting inside as he watched her. Then he saw her face change. The uncertainty that had been in it a bare second before was gone. In its place, determination rose strong.
“Will you be honest with me?” Heather asked. Concentrating on his reply, Heather willed her mind to see his words.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in a low voice.
“That’s not what I asked. Will you be honest?” she repeated.
“Yes.”
Heather heard the truth in the single word. “You’re a difficult man, Reid Hunter—difficult, honest, and troubled.” Heather paused to take a deep preparatory breath, filling her lungs with the scent of him. “But you’re still a man, and one with feelings.” Heather waited knowing there could be no turning back now.
Reid, knew he must reply this time. He looked at her and felt the longing and desire try to break free. He forced the emotions down and found it was the hardest task he’d undertaken in the last ten years. “I’m your foreman, Heather. I work for you and you need me here. You need me to keep this ranch alive, to bring it back up to the level your father had reached. You can’t sacrifice that—you can’t!” Even as he spoke, Reid was aware of the desperation in his voice.
“Must we sacrifice something more important?” she asked.
“This ranch is what’s important,” Reid told her bluntly.
“Do you believe that?” Heather asked in a whisper.
To Reid’s ears, the whisper was a roar. “I have to, for both of us.”
“Reid, I found out something today—something very important. The ranch is only land—you and I are people. I don’t care what anyone else has to say.”
“You don’t have any choice! We don’t have any choice,” Reid said, realizing he’d admitted what she had said was true.
“The rules of the cowboy?” she said bitterly. This was going wrong, Heather thought. He was avoiding the issue and making her feel like a fool.
“It’s more than just that.”
“Is it what happened to you in the war?” Heather asked suddenly. Some deep-down intuitive process told her to probe, and she did not question why.
“That has nothing to do with this ranch,” Reid replied, but even he heard the lie in his voice.
“I’m blind, not stupid. You’re here because of what’s happened to you in the past. Reid, I know you have feelings for me. I can sense them and you can’t deny them. Instead of doing something about those feelings, you hide behind some antiquated creed making you believe you’re protecting me. I came here because of the way I feel about you—don’t make me any more ashamed of what I’m doing than I already am.”
Reid felt his throat tighten as he looked at her. He knew how brave she was, how much this talk and her admission was costing her. He, too, accepted his part of the shame for what was happening, the shame of watching a person he cared for humble herself. He stepped up to her and took her hand in his. He noticed the way it trembled and pressed it tightly as he spoke.
“A lot happened to me in the war and I can’t talk about it to anyone—I haven’t been able to. I’ve learned to live with it. I’ve made my own sort of peace. But you have to remember I am your foreman, and in order to make this ranch function the way it should, I have to stick to the rules,” Reid said, speaking honestly, believing what he said fully. “You live in the middle of ranching territory and you must deal with the other ranch owners around you. You need them also, and having an... an affair with your foreman will affect your relationship with them.”
“You’re wrong,” she stated.
“Heather, the first time I saw you, when you were in the studio with Gregg, something happened to me. I’ve been fighting it ever since. I know what the results will be, and I won’t allow it to happen. If something happens between us, I know I’d end up hurting you and the ranch. I don’t want that,” Reid admitted.
“I’m a big girl, and I can play by the rules. I’ll live two lives if that’s what it takes to have a little happiness. Reid, I’ve never felt anything like what I have since I met you. I’ve tried to avoid it, to stop it from happening, but I can’t. Today, I found out I don’t want to. Reid, I learned something important at the homestead.”
Reid watched her face, holding her still trembling hand within his. He knew what her next words would be and closed his eyes as she spoke.
“I learned that what I’ve been fighting cannot be fought. To fight is to lose. I learned that I love you. No!” Heather said quickly, cutting off the reply she knew was coming. “Don’t say anything. Please, Reid, just hold me.”
Reid released her hand and drew her into his arms. He pressed her to his bare chest and felt the dampness on her cheek mingle with the hair of his chest. He held her tightly against him for an eternity, until at last he bent down and lifted her face to his.
Heather’s tears flowed as she buried her face against his warmth. She had said it. She had told him. Now there was nothing else to say or do. Nevertheless, against him, now, she was safe. The heat of his body and the security of his arms held her dark world at bay. She had been completely honest, and in doing so, she had unleashed a raw depth of emotions she had not known she possessed.
Slowly, Reid’s hand moved up her back and cupped her head. She felt him draw her head back and then felt his lips on hers. There were no lancing fires, no explosions of desire, only the gentle soft warmth of his mouth on hers. She returned the kiss, aware of the teary saltiness in her mouth but uncaring at the same time. There were no words, only feelings, only the sounds of their breathing and their hearts as they began to beat together.
Then she was lifted from her feet. The sensation of floating securely within Reid’s arms was dizzying. She buried her face in his chest, aware of his movement and of the power and strength of the arms that held her. The heavy beating of his heart filled her ear as he walked from the living room. Soon she felt herself placed on the down quilt of Reid’s bed.
His scent was overwhelming. It permeated the linens and the room itself. When Reid sat next to her on the bed, she reached out her arms and Reid entered her embrace. Her hands were on his back and
she pulled him against her. Their mouths met again and she tasted him. Their tongues danced as their breathing grew strained. His hands explored her body while hers continued to play along his back. Every muscle, every hair became a part of her odyssey, and she reveled in the feel of him. Suddenly his fingers were at the zipper of her dress. She felt and heard, simultaneously, the dress open. Reid drew the dress down to her waist, exposing her to his eyes. After a moment’s anguished wait, came the burning brand of his lips on her shoulder. Then she was floating again as Reid’s hands began to explore her body. When his fingers reached her breasts, she felt herself shudder. When his lips replaced his hands, she cried out. Her fingers went to his hair, weaving through it, feeling the thick waves as if it were a part of herself.
“Love me, Reid, please love me,” she whispered in the silence of the bedroom. Reid left the bed. The only sounds in the quiet the room was Reid undressing. When he returned, his hands went to the dress at her waist. With her help, he slid it free.
His sharply indrawn breath shattered the night and she too held her breath.
“You’re beautiful, Heather, so beautiful,” Reid said in a voice filled with desire as he gazed at Heather. His blood raced through him and his eyes hungrily devoured her. From her face to her feet, Heather was a picture of perfection. Her skin shone in the low castoff light entering through the bedroom doorframe. The rise and fall of her breasts was an invitation he could not ignore. The curves of her body called to him, and no longer did any thought of the consequences of the night enter his mind. So filled with the wonder and the vision of the woman he wanted nothing else could possibly intrude.
Slowly, reverently, Reid joined Heather on the bed. He kissed her forehead, trailing his lips across the tanned skin until they found a closed eyelid. His mouth caressed first one and then the other lid, and then wandered along her cheek until he reached her lips. His hands caressed her shoulders, dropping slowly to cover the soft mounds of her breasts. His hands filling with the heat and warmth of her skin while his eyes feasted on her beauty.
Cry Mercy, Cry Love Page 10