Cry Mercy, Cry Love

by Monica Barrie

  Heathers heart beat stuttered with the touch of his lips on her skin, and then skipping along her forehead, across her eyes, and finally when his lips meet hers she thought her heart would explode. Every sense had come alive. She vibrated with his every touch and felt the outpouring of heat from his body as it grazed along hers.

  His hands caressed her shoulders, sending shivers of anticipation through her body. Heather cried out when his gentle hands reached her breasts. Then she knew she was crying again, silently, because of the love she felt for this big, gentle man, who caressed her so lovingly.

  His lips were on her neck, and the desire she had been holding back exploded fully within her. She pressed her body to his and heard a low moan float in the air above. Hazily, she realized it was her own voice. Then his lips burned a path from her shoulder to the valley between her breasts. She bit her lip at the instant his mouth surrounded the awaiting tip of her breast. All the while, her hands wove patterns in his hair until she could no longer restrain the needs crying out within her.

  “Reid,” she whispered, drawing his head from her breast and bringing his lips to hers. They kissed. Heather’s fingers explored his face, touching his eyes softly, tracing the outline of his ears, stroking his cheeks, until she felt him pull away slightly.

  He returned quickly, covering her body with his, fitting his larger, wider frame perfectly on hers. She felt small, dwarfed by his size but safe. Her hands were again on his back, kneading the finely etched muscles, greedily exploring as much of him as she could reach.

  Slowly and carefully, Reid moved. She adjusted to his body, fitting herself around him. Reid’s hands move under her and lifted her slightly. Then he entered her with love and gentleness.

  She took him in, all of him, gladly, wonderfully, and felt sensations she had never before known. She was aware of everything. Every movement he made radiated throughout her being. Every breath he took she felt and heard. He was everywhere: inside of her body and deep within her mind. The desire she had believed to be so strong, multiplied a thousand fold, driving away all rational thought, leaving only the sensation of their bodies moving as one person and knowing they were alone in the universe.

  Heather was sure of only one thing—she loved Reid Hunter. She had no doubts as he carried her to places she had never before known or imagined. Her senses magnified, her mind staggered by the emotions and feelings continually building higher within her, she rose higher and higher, until she reached an unimaginable peak.

  Then, a lifetime later, she was back, her head cradled between Reid’s neck and shoulder, her breath harsh but beginning to ease. She relished the feel of Reid’s hands running along her back, soothing her, comforting her, helping her. She moved her mouth from the skin on his shoulder to his lips and kissed him slowly.

  “I never knew...” she began. Reid stopped her with another gentle kiss. Reluctantly, she felt Reid turn onto his side and pull her with him. He kissed her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her. Heather nestled against him, content with the silence, glad for it, and drew on the strength and warmth of her lover.

  Reid clasped her tightly to him, waiting for his mind to settle and for some semblance of sanity to return. As he held Heather, he could not stop the memory of what had happened only moments ago. He had made love to her. He had felt things he had thought impossible. Just her fingers tracing along his face had sent his desires soaring to heights he’d not been able to contain. The feel of her skin against his, the touch of her hands on his back, and the look of her face as he made love to her had combined to make him forget everything except the two of them. For the first time in so many years, it had been wonderful.

  Smelling her hair, Reid buried his mouth and nose within it. His hands held her close as the heat again began to rise on her skin. Slowly, he turned Heather onto her back and began to caress her. They kissed, and he paused to savor the sweetness of her lips for a long moment.

  This time they made love slowly, moving in a perfect rhythm while they learned more about each other. They touched, kissed, caressed and flowed together for an endless time unto at last, they rose again to the infinite heights before returning to earth and the comfort of each other’s arms. Content and satisfied, they drifted off to sleep together.

  Heather woke slowly and enjoying the comfort of Reid’s arm which was still around her. She lay still, smiling. They had made love and she had indeed learned she had been right. She was in love with him, as she had told him. Even though he had not said so, every action, every move he’d made convinced her he loved her, too. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Heather lifted Reid’s arm and left the bed. When she stood, she waited to make sure he had not awakened.

  Slowly, Heather slipped to the floor and searched for her dress. She almost laughed out loud, thinking how ridiculous she must look, her naked butt sticking in the air while her hands searched the floor for her clothing. She found the dress and put it on. A few more waving circular motions on the floor found her panties. She knew it would be morning soon—she could tell by the air—and she wanted to be gone before Reid awoke.

  Heather accepted she was now committed to his rules. She had known so before she’d reached Reid’s house and promised herself she would obey. Quietly, Heather went to the far side of the bed and bent. She reached out until she felt his hair. Slowly, with the lightest of touches, she traced his lips.

  “Good night, my love,” she whispered, and then straightened and turned. Very carefully, so as not to bump into anything, Heather left the bedroom. Once in the living room, where she had been a frequent visitor when Hank Thompson had been foreman, she moved quickly and left the house. Outside, walking toward her house, something furry brushed her leg.

  “Hi, boy,” she said to Polaris. The dog pressed gently against her calf as he led her home.

  TWELVE

  Heather woke with a start. The sound of a car engine echoed loudly in her ears. She listened for a moment as her heart slowed. Each sound held meaning for Heather. This sound was Reid’s Land Rover. She lay still for a moment, listening to the vehicle’s engine fade into the distance.

  Slowly, Heather willed her body to move. She had slept late—she knew without even checking her clock. When she did, she learned it was ten. Rather than get up, Heather stayed within the comfort of her bed, luxuriating in her rare moment of laziness and let her mind wander. She could still feel last night’s overwhelming sensations—the gentle yet firm caresses Reid had showered her with; the way he held her, and the fires he had ignited.

  When she had left Reid last night and walked the seemingly endless distance between his place and hers, she had immediately blocked out her emotions, suddenly afraid of what she had so brazenly started. Nevertheless, Heather knew she could not deny that this morning her world was now irrevocably changed, and in the new world she had awakened to, Heather Strand had become a different person. Last night she had said what had needed to and had meant every word. She had listened to Reid’s logical words and when she had acknowledged her love to Reid, she understood she would accept those sacrifices, which were part of her growing love. The memory of his caresses returned with a burning force that she had not thought possible, her promises seemed like insignificant shouts in the face of a brewing storm.

  Briefly, Heather wondered what had happened to her once firm resolve that she would never again allow a man to enter her heart, to hurt and cause her pain. I started it this time, she told herself firmly, and I’ll see it through.

  Pushing her thoughts aside, Heather rose and went to the bathroom. She stepped into the shower and let the steaming water run over her skin, chasing away the last shadows of sleep. When she was dry and dressed, she made a pot of coffee and went to the studio. She wasn’t hungry and skipped breakfast. She had work to do today, and she knew, too, she needed to keep her mind occupied. Heather refused to allow herself to dwell on last night’s events.

  She worked furiously, making the mold for the first casting of the sculpture
of Reid’s head. It would take a full twenty-four hours before the plaster dried completely. When it had, she would separate the two halves and begin the process she preferred above all others. When the plaster casts were finished, she would use them as a mold to make yet another cast of the sculpture. This cast of the sculpture would be in wax; once the wax bust was completed, she would need to make her final decision on casting it—whether to cast the metal directly in the plaster, making two halves to weld together; or, use the lost-wax method. Heather preferred the lost-wax method because it required no welding. Moreover, since she could not do the welding herself, the plaster-cast method would mean trusting her work to another’s hands. When she used the lost-wax method, she had one of the ranch hands help her pour the molten metal into the cast, but her hands were part of the process.

  Heather shook away the thoughts, knowing she had already made up her mind. It would be she, with someone’s assistance, who would pour molten metal into a frame encasing the wax sculpture. When it cooled, the bronze would replace the wax. Still, Heather thought, that process was weeks away.

  By two o’clock Heather could no longer ignore the hunger pangs rippling through her. With a sigh of acceptance, she finished pouring the last of the plaster and washed her hands. Drying them with the towel, Heather took another deep breath and left the studio.

  She made herself lunch and, eating in the living room, listened to the stereo in an effort to avoid thinking about Reid. Finally, she gave in and let her mind again replay the events of the previous night. When she was through, she felt a great weight leave her shoulders and realized she had been fooling herself. She could not fight what her mind told her was right, but neither would she break the promise she had made to Reid. She would play by the rules, no matter what the cost.

  Sighing with resignation, Heather took a sip of lukewarm coffee. She tried to figure out what to do for the rest of the afternoon. Usually she spent it working in the studio or doing something with Tom and Gregg. Heather smiled as she thought of the young boy. He was so innocent, so filled with fun, she still found it impossible to believe his mother had left him.

  Just then the CB base in the office came to life. Hearing Reid’s voice fill the air, Heather stood and, with the half cup of coffee still in one hand, moved gracefully through the living room and into the office, where she went to a table against the far wall. On the table was the ranch’s CB base station. With a practiced movement, Heather lifted the microphone and pressed the transmitter switch.

  “Strand base,” she said, and then released the switch.

  “Rover One,” came Reid’s voice again.

  “Reid, where are you?” she asked.

  “At the homestead. I wanted to check in to make sure everything is all right. Any problems?” he asked.

  Heather took a deep breath, forcing the fast beating of her heart to slow. Were there any problems? Is water wet? she almost asked sarcastically, but instead said, “Everything is quiet around here.”

  “How are you?” Reid asked suddenly. Again, Heather felt a flutter in her chest.

  “F-fine,” she replied.

  “Good. I’ll be in within the hour,” he told her as he signed off. Heather cleared the channel, and then stood silently in thought.

  She wanted very badly to hear his voice in person. She needed to touch him, if just for an instant, to prove that what happened last night was not a cruel dream invading the privacy of her sleep. Putting the thought aside, Heather crossed the room and went into her office. She wanted to sit in her father’s chair and think. Heather knew she had a lot to think about, a lot to understand.

  Sitting in her father’s old chair, she drew comfort from its accustomed feel as if it were an old friend. Her fingers would not stay still as they explored the soft leather and suddenly Heather could almost imagine her father here with her. Again, she was unsuccessful at avoiding the things she most wanted to escape from—the combination of thoughts continually running into each other, careening madly in the intricate maze her mind was fast turning into.

  There was the old, always explosive collision of the obligation—the Strand Ranch—which fought against her desire to immerse herself totally in her art. But today, the old battle of logic against emotion had an added feature. Reid Hunter.

  Without trying, Heather found herself thinking about the ruggedly handsome, mustached man with whom she had shared herself. Suddenly the quiet of the ranch and the need to try and cleanse herself of her shadowy guilt forced Heather into a deeper contemplation of what had really happened last night.

  What had possessed her to be so forward? Reid must think her no more than a common hussy, the way she had acted. She had never done anything like it before and she herself hadn’t exactly known what she was going to do when she reached his door last night.

  Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Heather willed her mind to become calm. Realistically, she knew there was nothing she could do about what happened last night. She also acknowledged it had been she, not Reid, who had forced the issue. What would happen now?

  The rumble of the Land Rover’s engine pulled Heather from her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat. Realizing nothing within her mind could be resolved at this point, Heather reminded herself of her promise to Reid. She forced away her desire from her thoughts while she waited.

  Moments later, Reid’s footsteps resounded in the front office. They stopped, and Heather heard him call her name.

  “In here,” she replied. Reid’s steps picked up again and grew louder in her ears until they stopped across the desk from her.

  “’Afternoon,” he said. The silence that followed his greeting hung heavily between them until Heather wanted to scream. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

  “Do I look that bad?” she asked with a smile. “I slept until I heard you drive away.”

  “Good. No, you look wonderful,” Reid told her as the longing that had been with him all day grew even stronger. He tried to push it aside, to thrust it into that special place he had within him, as he had done successfully with all his emotions since returning from Vietnam. However, at this moment he seemed to have lost that hard-earned ability. “About last night…he began.

  His words sent a cry of agony through her mind. Touch me! Hold me! Kiss me! her heart cried silently. “The night was ours—the day belongs to the ranch. It’s your way. I agreed.”

  Reid studied her carefully, and saw the taut set of her mouth and heard the clipped way she spoke. He knew how much those words had cost her…were costing her. He knew all too well.

  “You’re a magnificent lady, Heather Strand,” he told her in a strained voice.

  “But dumb!” she replied, forcing a soft lilt into her voice.

  “No, blind.”

  Heather laughed at Reid’s bantering reply, understanding immediately the joking way he had meant it. “I meant stupid,” she said after another moment of silence. This time Heather was unable to put the light, lilting tone into her words.

  The sudden explosion of Reid’s hand on the desktop made Heather jump. Polaris, hidden behind the chair, rose quickly to all fours, growling deep in his throat as he moved protectively next to his mistress.

  “Don’t ever say anything like that again,” Reid told her in a hoarse voice. “Not to me. Not to anyone!”

  “Reid…” She whispered his name. Heather tried to stop the moisture that his deeply felt words brought to her eyes. Her hand went to Polaris’s head to calm and reassure the dog.

  “I’m sorry, Heather, but I won’t listen to you put yourself down. Not you.” Reid stopped himself before he had added the word too. When Heather had said those last words, a picture of his sister had grown in his mind. She had said the same thing to him six years ago. Gwen had told him she was stupid, stupid to have fallen in love. Reid knew, even though Heather hadn’t said it, she had meant the same thing.

  Reid moved quickly around the desk and pulled Heather to her feet. Her breath left her in a sudden sigh when he
crushed her against his chest. He held her tightly without moving, her only senses that of the rise and fall of his chest and the way his heartbeat within it. She was afraid to move, yet she knew she could not stay there. Slowly, painfully, she pulled away.

  “Tell me about the foals,” she said, desperately trying to ease the charged tension that was between them.

  “They’re fine,” he said to her as he forced himself to think about the seven foals born over the last three weeks. “I think they’ll make good dude stock,” he said, referring to the type of horses they sold to the resort ranches throughout the Southwest. “But I think we’ll do a lot better soon,” he finished as he walked back around the desk and sat at the same time as Heather.

  “It’s still going to take a while, even after we get the new studs.”

  “I’m working on that also. I’ve got a few ideas in mind,” Reid said as his body unwound. The tension of a few moments ago drained away along with the instant desire that had flared so suddenly.

  “Such as?” Heather asked, throwing herself fully into the conversation.

  “Have you ever considered cattle?” he asked.

  “Father had once, but he felt the expenses wouldn’t warrant the small profits. We’re too far from the major shipping points. We’d have to ship them by truck and the profit would be eaten up,” she said as she remembered clearly the discussions she had heard between her father and Hank Thompson.

  “He was right, but he was also thinking in much larger terms than I am. I’m thinking of Tahoe, Reno, and northern California. If we can get good beef, undersell the Texas, Dakota, and Kansas markets to the local distributors, we can build a small, but good profit reserve in order to strengthen our main business—horses. Let me play with it a while, boss lady, and I’ll see how viable it is,” he finished.

  Reid had already been thinking about it. He had even put out some feelers. If his idea worked out, the money coming in from the cattle could support the breeding and raising of higher-grade horse stock, which was exactly what the Strand Ranch was about. Still, even if his plan worked out, he knew they were still several years away from his goal.