Cry Mercy, Cry Love

by Monica Barrie

  “I haven’t had much choice,” he said. Then Reid saw another truth. Heather had not run from him, had not turned away in disgust when he’d told his story. In actuality, it had been just the opposite. She had come closer.

  “Reid, what happened to you was a...a terrible but unpreventable accident. Which in no way makes it right, but neither does running away from your own life to give those children back their lives.”

  “I haven’t been running away from what happened to me in the war,” Reid told her, feeling the sting of truth in her words. “I’ve learned to live with it. Now, I need you to kiss me.”

  Heather felt tears well up in her eyes from his request. She moved along his length until her lips were on his. When she tasted the saltiness of his mouth, she could no longer restrain herself and again her tears flowed freely. Together they held each other until the fierceness of their emotions subsided.

  “I love you, Reid, for who you are. Remember that, and never doubt it,” she said.

  Reid heard her words and pressed her tightly against him. He kissed her, tasting the woman that she was, and again heat flowed between them.

  Heather tried to absorb all his pain and anguish within her as she kissed him. She realized now why he had tried to avoid their love. No longer would she wonder about him. She would just love him, on his terms.

  They made love again, but this time they gently and tenderly drew comfort by giving each other their love in the early hours before dawn.

  FOURTEEN

  With the July sun bathing her in its midday warmth and the grass soft beneath her, Heather lay near the edge of the pond. The sensitive fingers of one hand absently stroked the sleeping shepherd lying next to her, the fingers of her other hand rambled through the grass, pausing to feel the texture of each individual blade before moving on to the next. This grass was special; planted by her mother, just after her father had dug and filled the man-made pond, and was different from all other varieties found on the ranch. The grass’s smooth surface combined with the coarser, almost saw-like edges was a tactile massage Heather could truly appreciate. A blade of grass was so fragile, yet so tough, she thought, knowing grass gave life to barren land, gave strength to grazing animals, and gave comfort to feet that walked upon it.

  For a ranch, grassy plains, rolling plateaus, and rich valleys were its lifeblood, whether they be buffalo grass, Indian rice grass, sagebrush, or any of the other multitudes of vegetation found in Nevada. Ranching demanded much from those who would reap its benefits, and those benefits, too, were like the grass—smooth, with rough edges. You had to be strong to live, fight, and succeed. You needed strong people to help you, people who were like the blades of grass she held in her fingers—strong and sharp, but at the same time loving, gentle, and giving.

  Like Reid. The name rolled thunderously within the pathways of her mind. Like Reid—the smoothness of his skin and the rippling of the hard muscles laying just beneath the surface, the calloused hands that could grasp a rope and make it do whatever he willed, and the gentleness of those hands as they had roamed the contours of her body. Like Reid—soft, hard, firm, yielding, intractable. Like the single blade of grass she suddenly broke off, there was so much more beneath the surface.

  In the days and nights, which flowed into weeks following that fateful weekend of their discovery of love, Heather had begun to live on a tightrope balanced between two worlds. She had the day-to-day world of the Strand Ranch and the nighttime world of her love. She worked, spoke, and interacted with Reid in her role as owner, with him as foreman. At night, when the ranch slept, she loved and was loved. After those first nights of lovemaking, of discovering each other, of admissions and long-buried truths, they became a couple.

  Heather could almost feel Reid next to her as her fingers continued to explore the grass. Night was the time she truly came to life. The learning about each other, the hours spent talking and then falling asleep in his arms, far exceeded the nights spent in passion. Yet, with each waking Heather had felt renewed. Just being with him, talking, holding, touching—those things had become so vital. Not even those lonely walks home, before Reid and the ranch woke, were able to diminish the strength of her feelings.

  Now, although it was not five months since she’d hired Reid, the ranch was beginning to grow again. The money from the loan had been used beneficially.

  Reid had told her in full detail of the plans he’d drawn up for the possible cattle-ranching operation. Accompanied by Heather and Tom Farley, Reid had met with one of the smaller local provisioners about supplying him with prime-grade beef at a low but fair price under the stipulation the meat went to the smaller, independent businesses rather than to the larger resorts, whose inflated prices meant for the tourists. This way they would not be in competition with the larger ranchers who sold for a higher margin of profit and expected their beef to go to the major market for top dollar. The amount of cattle the Strand Ranch would be selling would not make a noticeable difference to the larger ranchers but would help to stabilize the ranch financially. The distributor had seemed both impressed and agreeable to their ideas.

  Just last week, Heather thought, the first of the new breeding studs had arrived. The stallion was a Thoroughbred/Morgan mix, who Reid was positive would sire the type of foal that would grow into a strong and tough range horse, a similar breed to the horses the Strand Ranch were known for in the past. Heather realized the stud signaled the beginning of the return of the Strand Ranch to the position it had held for many years.

  Yes, she thought, everything was turning out well. The ranch was on the upswing, thanks to Reid’s capable guidance. The problems, which had plagued Heather and the ranch, were disappearing one by one—all except her newest problem.

  Heather pulled out another blade of grass and passed it back and forth across her lips. The tickling sensation felt good, but she could not shake the ugly thought that had arisen. Her problem, she admitted, was herself.

  It had been a small thought at first, hidden in one of the many compartments of her mind. She had tried to keep it closed off, but the harder she tried, the more urgent the problem became. Heather recognized the fact she was questioning the very basis of her relationship with Reid.

  In the beginning, she’d accepted the rules governing them. But her mind would not let it stay there. Something told her it was more than the antiquated cowboy creed governing their relationship. She knew, too, it was more than just his haunting Vietnamese past holding him back. Still, just what it was she couldn’t figure out.

  There were too many small things, when put together, just did not add up. Reid’s way of always finding the right thing to say and his ability to articulate above the level of his background had started to bother her. His artfulness in building stone walls deflected the most direct and penetrating personal questions made her wonder what he was really hiding from.

  There was something stopping Reid Hunter from acknowledging his love for her openly, and it was more than being her foreman. Heather also realized that not since the time when he’d told her to leave and her hand was on the doorknob and he had said I love you had he repeated it.

  Heather tensed. The one thing she tried to avoid came roaring into her mind; her throat tightened painfully and she felt moisture rise into her eyes. I was the one who forced everything, she reminded herself. I went after Reid. I pushed myself on him at every opportunity. My feelings must have been more than obvious in everything I did. Emma saw it plainly, and Reid must have thought he had no choice.

  Then Heather’s tortured thoughts told her something else, something that made her cringe. She remembered Reid telling her how desirable she was, how beautiful she was. Am I? Was he only telling me what I wanted to hear? How do I know if I’m desirable, if I’m really beautiful? I don’t. I can’t. I can only believe what I’m told.

  Was Reid using her? Another memory came, one she was ashamed of. She had been walking the other night and had passed Reid’s house. She had heard Reid and Tom t
alking loudly, arguing. She had stopped, knowing she shouldn’t, and listened. She had been able to hear some of the words, but not all. Again, she replayed the conversation in her mind.

  “Why’d you lie,” Tom had asked. Heather had stiffened at the harshness of Tom’s voice.

  “Lie?” she had heard Reid reply.

  “’Bout who you…” Heather had not heard the last word and had strained harder.

  “How’d you find out?” Reid had asked, and she had felt her stomach knot.

  “I met someone who works at the...” Heather missed the name. “We talked for a while. Seems he knew you a long time...” Tom had said, but again, Heather had missed some of the words.

  “Higgins?” had been Reid’s response.

  “Yes. Reid, I like you. I don’t understand what you’re doing, but I can’t believe you’re working this hard for nothing. I just want to know one thing,” Tom had said.

  Heather had heard only silence for a few moments, and then she had heard Tom speak again. “Are you doing this for…?”

  Again, Heather had missed the word. Her heart was telling her to leave, not to listen to more, but her mind had fought and won. She had to hear it out.

  “Higgins has a big mouth,” Reid had replied, his voice stronger and filled with more confidence. “I’m not here for any other reason than for the job I took. I’m here to get this place back on its feet. My family has nothing to do with this. They don’t know where I am!” Reid had finished. These new words had Heather’s mind spinning...here to do a job. My family has nothing to do with this.” My family! The words had kept repeating endlessly in her mind as she stood there in the night.

  “I want to believe that,” Tom had said.

  “Believe it. It’s the truth,” Reid had replied.

  “I think it is. Reid, as I said before, I like you. I won’t say anything ’bout this,” Heather heard Tom promise.

  About what? her mind had screamed. Hearing the voices grow louder, Heather started to walk away. She’d been in shock and had spent the night alone, trying to comprehend what had happened. Her only point of reference was Tom Farley, who had told Reid he trusted him. Unless she told Tom about herself and Reid, she too had to trust him. So, she had pushed the conversation she had overheard to the back of her mind, hoping her own dark thoughts would stay there. But the thoughts had returned. What family did Reid have? There had been no mention on his resume of family, no mention of a wife. Had he done that purposely? Was he married? Was that why he wanted their love hidden? Had she let herself become a plaything for her foreman? No! her heart cried. Heather knew it was something else. Not knowing how, she knew he was not married. Still, the mystery remained lodged within her mind, and she knew she would have to find out.

  Heather could no longer be satisfied with a hidden, nighttime love that left with the arrival of the sun.

  Polaris raised his head quickly, dislodging Heather’s hand in the process and bringing her thoughts back to the grass she was lying on. A low woof escaped Polaris’s throat and she felt the breeze from his wagging tail as he stood.

  Heather sat up as she heard her name called out. “Miss Heather,” Gregg Farley said, catching his breath as he stopped running. “Miss Emma sent me to fetch you.”

  “It must be mighty important for you to be so out of breath,” she said to him as she willed her troubled thoughts away and smiled at the boy.

  “I don’t know if it is, but I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you. This was my last try ’fore I gave up.”

  “I told Emma I’d be here,” Heather said, puzzled as to why Emma hadn’t told Gregg.

  “She said so, but when I came by before I didn’t see you. I didn’t ’spect you to be lyin’ down.”

  “Don’t you ever lie in the grass?” Heather asked. She stood, stretched, and began to walk.

  “Yes’m. But I never seen you lie in it before.”

  “Saw,” she corrected.

  “I never saw you lying’ down on the grass before,” Gregg repeated, carefully choosing the right words. At the office door, Gregg said good-bye to Heather, returning to his school friend, who was visiting him for the day.

  Heather stepped into the air-conditioned coolness of Emma’s office and shivered at the instant change of temperature.

  “You called?” Heather said as she shivered again. “Are you trying to freeze to death?” she asked the older woman.

  “It’s barely comfortable in here, and, no, I didn’t call. I sent a messenger for you. If I had called, I would have frightened your new stallion half to death.”

  “Em…ma!” Heather drawled out her friend’s name in exasperation.

  “Take it easy. I have some papers for you to sign. I have to get to the bank soon.”

  “Which ones?”

  “The ones that are on your desk—the license applications for the camp,” Emma reminded her. Heather remembered and smiled as she went into her office with Emma trailing behind. She stopped at the front of her desk and held out her hand for a pen. Emma handed her the pen, then guided her hand to the spot. Heather signed the three copies and put the pen down with a flourish.

  “Ta-ta,” she said as she stood up again.

  “Now, my dear, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to town.” Heather smiled and nodded. She heard Emma open the door and then pause as the echo of a car door closing reached her ears. “I wonder who that could be?” Emma said, and Heather heard her turn and walk to the window. “Expecting any visitors?” she asked Heather.

  “No. What does he look like?”

  “Tall and thin, with long dark hair about waist length.”

  “I take it it’s a woman, not a man.”

  “So does Tom Farley. A very pretty one. His mouth just fell wide open. Whew—he made a good recovery.”

  “Emma, what’s going on?” Heather asked.

  “We’ll soon find out. Tom and the lady are headed this way. Have a nice afternoon. Think about what we’ve discussed. I’ll see you about four,” Emma said as she left the office, quietly closing the door behind her very confused boss.

  Heather stood between the door and the desk, smiling at Emma’s last words. The outer office door closed loudly and she heard Emma greet Tom, but missed the low-voiced introductions. Taking a deep breath, Heather stood and went to the door. Her hand was on the knob when she heard the static of the CB fill the air. She paused then, for some unknown reason.

  Tom’s voice, loud as was his habit when he used the radio, carried clearly through the closed door. “Rover One, come in,” he said. Heather opened the door slightly, when she heard him calling Reid.

  “Rover One,” came the voice.

  “Reid, you’ve got a visitor. When are you heading back?” Tom asked. Heather tensed as she heard Tom’s question, realizing the visitor was for Reid. A strange sensation akin to anger began to creep into Heather’s mind as she listened intently.

  “I’m not expecting anyone, but I’m already on the way back. Who is it?” Reid asked.

  “One of the two prettiest sights I’ve seen on this ranch in a long time,” Tom said. Heather felt another surge of anger spread throughout her body, and because of it failed to notice the different way Tom Farley sounded.

  “You want to run that by me again?” Reid requested. Heather heard the woman take two steps and then heard her voice.

  “You always were the slow one,” she said.

  “Gwen?” Heather heard the doubt that filled Reid’s voice. “What the hell…” Reid said, cutting himself off in midsentence. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Rover One, out.”

  Suddenly Heather understood what was happening to her. She was jealous! Jealous of the way Reid sounded, jealous of this woman she did not know, and feeling again the knot of tension in her stomach. Was this the family Reid and Tom had talked about? Heather closed the door quietly and went to her chair. She sat for a few minutes, and when her mind had calmed, she stood. As she did, she heard a knock on her door.

  “Hea
ther,” Tom called. Heather went to the door and opened it, a feeling of dread holding her in thrall.

  “Yes, Tom?”

  “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her into the main office. “Heather Strand, I’d like you to meet Gwen Hunter, Reid’s sister.” A wave of relief flooded through her at Tom’s words.

  “A pleasure, Miss Strand,” Gwen said. Heather heard the woman take several steps toward her and she moved in the direction of Gwen Hunter’s voice. She held out her hand and Gwen grasped it firmly. She liked the feeling of the handshake. It was cool, strong, and decisive.

  “Call me Heather. Glad to meet you,” she said truthfully as she released the other woman’s hand.

  “I hope you don’t mind my coming here so unexpectedly?”

  “It’s no problem, Gwen, although I think I heard a bit of shock in your brother’s voice.”

  “He’ll get over it...I hope,” Gwen finished. “Please, don’t let me stop you from your work. I’ll just wait here for Reid. Mr. Farley, thank you for your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” Tom said. A quiet moment passed before Tom spoke again. “I guess I’d better get back to work. I hope I’ll see you later, Miss Gwen.”

  “I hope so too,” she replied. “That’s if Reid doesn’t break my neck.”

  “Don’t you worry. He wouldn’t do that. Your neck’s too pretty.” Heather couldn’t believe her ears. Before she could say a word, the office door closed and Tom was gone.

  “My goodness, you must be something. I’ve never heard Tom say anything like that.”

  “He is cute, though, isn’t he?” Gwen said in a faraway voice.

  “I’ve never heard Tom called cute either,” Heather replied.

  “Oh, didn’t you see the way he blushed just before he left?” Gwen asked.

  “No, I’m afraid I didn’t,” Heather said lightly. Suddenly she sensed Gwen peering at her and Heather knew Gwen hadn’t realized until then that she was blind. “Why don’t you sit and relax. I’m sure Reid will be here any moment.”