by HELEN HARDT
He deserved a woman who could be his equal in that respect. Unfortunately, that wasn’t her.
But he had come for her. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she had known he would eventually. She had wanted him to. As he approached the door to her tiny home, she walked toward him. Then she couldn’t help herself. She ran.
“Zach!” she cried out.
He turned, and his lazy smile lit up his gorgeous face. Oh God, he had grown a short goatee just like she’d asked him to. He looked incredible. So very incredible. All she could think about was how those short whiskers would feel against her cheeks when he kissed her.
And he would kiss her. It was written all over his face.
Within five seconds she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, their lips meshing together in frantic desperation. Her face was grimy and her hair not fit for human eyes, but he kissed her as though she were the last woman on earth. She kissed him back the same way.
After several timeless moments, Zach broke the kiss and pushed her away slightly, holding her shoulders. “You look beautiful,” he murmured.
She couldn’t help laughing at that observation. If she had ever doubted his love for her—and she hadn’t—she’d have been convinced of it at that moment. “I just delivered a litter of ten kittens. I’m covered in blood and guts. Only you would say I look beautiful right now.”
“You’ve never been anything but beautiful to me, darlin’.” He ran his fingers through the thick tangles of her hair. “You’re wearing your hair down.”
She nodded.
“It’d be more convenient to wear it braided. You know, for doing ranch work.” He grinned.
“Yeah, I know.” Then, “You grew a goatee.”
“Someone once told me I might look good with one.” He winked.
“Someone was right,” Dusty said.
“Why’d you leave me, darlin’?” He trailed his fingers down her cheek, down the curve of her neck. She shivered.
“It’s a long story.”
“Will you tell me? Will you let me help you?”
Dusty sighed. He had come all this way for her, and the reasons for keeping secrets no longer seemed important. She wasn’t sure she could even remember them.
Oh, yeah. She didn’t want to saddle him with a sick, infertile woman.
But maybe that was his decision to make, not hers.
“I’ll tell you.” She nodded. “I should have told you sooner. So come on in. The house is a sty. I haven’t been feeling real well so I haven’t done a lot of housework. I’m sorry…”
“I don’t give a damn how clean your house is, Dusty. Is Sam at home?”
“He’s in Billings. Said he’d be home around ten.”
“Let’s go in. I could use a cold drink.”
“Of course. I should have offered you one. Where are my manners?”
“I don’t give a damn about manners either, darlin’, I’m just thirsty.”
She led him into the house and pointed to the kitchen. “There’s some soda and iced tea in the fridge. A couple of beers too, I think. I really need to take a quick shower and burn these overalls. Could you excuse me for a few minutes?”
“Sure. Take your time. I’ll grab my duffel and get settled.”
“You want to stay here?”
“Where else would I stay’? Black Eagle’s hardly a thriving metropolis. What is it, population nine hundred?”
“Nine seventy-eight, I’ll have you know.” She smiled and headed to her room to clean up.
Dusty’s heart pounded as she stepped into the hot stream of water. The shower soothed her soiled skin, her tired muscles. She squeezed some shampoo into her palm, lathered it up, and spread it over her wet head.
“Allow me.”
Zach was behind her, naked and glorious in his maleness. He was even more beautiful than she remembered.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Getting settled,” he said.
“In my shower?”
“Can you think of a better place?”
“At the moment, no.”
“As you will recall, I have a special talent for hair washing.” He massaged her scalp. Between his strong hands rubbing her, his hard chest pressed against her, the steamy hot water, and the aroma of her herbal shampoo mixed with the aroma of Zach, she was in heaven.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “I’ve missed you so much, Zach.”
“Then why did you leave me?”
She opened her eyes and stared into his. Their unique beauty was laced with sadness.
“I’ll tell you. When we’re out of the shower, okay? Right now, can we just relax?”
“Here, let me rinse you.” He turned her and ran his fingers through her long tresses as the shower pelted the lather down the drain. She turned away from him, leaned her head back, and let the water stream push her hair from her face so it hung behind her in sopping locks. This time when she looked into his eyes, they smoldered. He pulled her to him and kissed her.
Their wet bodies slid together under the stream of the shower, and Dusty clamped her arms around Zach’s neck as he hoisted her upward. She wrapped her legs around him and he entered her. So gently, so slowly. Not like in the hay barn at the stock show. This was lingering, soothing love. He pressed into her deeply, and she felt his sweet caress everywhere—in her heart, her soul, her very core. She clamped her mouth onto his and kissed him with passion, with all the love she felt for him. She did love him. So much.
Please, she begged silently. Please don’t let him be too disappointed.
When he broke away, she whimpered, but he licked her earlobe and whispered endearments to her. Then he pushed her against the cool tiled wall of the bath and shoved into her more forcefully. “I love you, darlin’.” He thrust, holding her rump in one hand while the other reached into her private curls. “I love you so much.” He thrust again as he circled her clit with his thumb. “Please tell me you love me, Dusty. Please.”
“Yes,” she said in a breathless rasp. “Yes, I love you, Zach. I love you.”
“Again,” he groaned. “Say it again.”
“I love you. I love you so much. Only you.”
“I want to be your only lover, Dusty. The only man to come inside you. Please. Let me be the one.”
Emotion swirled around her, in her. “Yes, I want that too. I want you to be the only one.”
He plunged into her more deeply, taking, giving. “I want to take care of you.”
He didn’t know what he was saying, of course. But Dusty was determined to let him make the choice. “I love you,” she said again, and then she climaxed. As her walls hugged him in the ultimate caress, she felt him come. She felt every spurt of his seed as he thrust.
And he told her loved her again.
* * *
“Put this on,” Zach said, after they had dried each other and he had pulled on a pair of boxers from his duffel. In his hand was a T-shirt.
“Uh, okay. What is it?”
“Just one of my shirts. The thought of my woman hanging out in one of my shirts has always kind of turned me on.”
“I don’t think you need any help in that department.” Dusty raised her eyebrows at him. “But I love the idea of wearing your shirt.” She pulled it over her head. “It’s so big on me.”
“Here.” He handed her a pair of his boxers, and she stepped into them. He sat down on her bed and pulled her onto his lap. “Time to talk,” he said.
“Yeah, I suppose so.” Dusty fingered the red scar where Zach had been gored. There was an indentation where the surgeon had removed the diseased tissue, an interruption in his hair pattern. She stroked the flesh, smoothed her fingers along the ridges of scar tissue and then over the concave surface. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore, and the redness will fade with time.”
“But you’ll always have the scar.”
“Yeah. I’ll always have the scar.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“We’ve been through all that, darlin’. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He pressed his soft lips to her neck. “Now. You love me.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“I always knew it, anyway.”
“Oh you did, did you?” She smiled and touched his cheek. “Confident of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Just in love. It’s a two-way street, you know.”
“Yeah.” She stroked his moustache. “I suppose it is.”
“So why did you leave me?”
She sighed, holding her breath for a moment, gathering her courage. “I never wanted to leave you. Please believe that.”
“Okay. I believe you. So tell me why you did.”
“There were…that is, there are circumstances.”
“They don’t make any difference to me.”
“You don’t even know what they are yet.” She punched him playfully.
“So?”
“Oh, Zach. If only things were different.”
“Time to talk, darlin’. Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s such a long story, and you already know that our ranch is in financial trouble.”
“Don’t care. I have money. Keep talking.”
“I love you, and I don’t care about your money. I want you to know that.”
“I do know that.”
“Okay. The thing is, your money can’t buy what I need, sweetheart.”
“Which is?”
“My health. I’m sick, Zach.”
“You look great to me.” He smiled and brushed a damp tendril of hair out of her eyes.
“You’re so sweet. The thing is, I…had cancer.”
“I know.”
“What? How did you know?”
“It’s pretty common knowledge around Black Eagle, Dusty. You had leukemia. The same kind your ma died from.”
“How long have you known?”
“Not long.”
She tensed and moved ever so slightly backward. “And you came for me anyway?”
He pulled her back, and her breasts brushed his chest. “What kind of a man do you take me for? Did you think I’d stop loving you because you had cancer? I’m a little pissed you’d think such a thing.”
“No, I never thought that. It was more me. I’m the problem.” Dusty’s heart fluttered. Now was the moment of truth. She had to tell him, and she had to face the fact that he might not be able to handle it. “You see, there’s a good chance the leukemia has returned.”
Tears formed in her eyes, but he brushed them away. His touch was loving, concerned.
“Do you know for sure?”
“No. I get the results of my blood test tomorrow. But I had a test three weeks ago that showed an elevated white cell count, and I’ve been feeling like crap lately. I’m tired, and I’ve been sick to my stomach. Although I feel okay right now.”
“Anything else?”
“I have a bruise on my thigh.” She shifted so he could see the contusion.
“Just one bruise?”
“Yes. But I can’t remember how I got it.”
He chuckled. “You work your pretty bottom off on a ranch all day and you can’t recall bumping your thigh?”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I know it’s not.” He fingered her hair, twirling it. “But Dusty, one bruise isn’t anything to worry about.”
“I suppose not, but along with the fatigue and the nausea, and my elevated white count a few weeks ago…”
“When do you find out tomorrow?”
“The doctor said he’d call as soon as he knew anything.”
“Then we won’t worry about it for now. Whatever tomorrow brings, we’ll face it together.”
“You still want me?”
“Christ, Dusty. What do you think?” He kissed her hard.
She broke away. “You don’t know everything.”
“What else is there to know?”
“I can’t give you what you need, Zach. Even if I go into remission again.”
“What is it that you think I need, other than you, darlin’?”
“A family. Babies, Zach. I can’t give you a child.”
“Because of the chemo?”
“Yeah. I’m infertile. It happens sometimes in women. It happened to me.”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’. You’d have been a wonderful, loving mother. You still can be. We can adopt. Hell, we’ll adopt a whole ton of kids if that’s what you want.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not.” His tone was serious. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to share that with you, to make a baby with you. Mostly because I know how much it would mean to you. But I still want you. I still love you.”
Dusty clamped her arms around him and sank into his hard, warm chest. A giant anvil that had been hovering over her had suddenly disappeared. She kissed his neck, his ears, his beautiful face. “You’re the most wonderful man in the entire world.”
“Then I assume you’ll want to marry me?” He smiled.
“If it’s what you want, Zach.”
“Don’t you know me yet, woman? I don’t say anything I don’t mean. Tomorrow. We’ll get married tomorrow. After we get the results of your test, we’ll hightail it into Black Eagle, find the Justice of the Peace, and we’ll get married.”
“You want to marry me tomorrow?”
“Did you not hear me, woman? I never say anything I don’t mean. Yes, I want to marry you tomorrow.”
“But I might need more treatment. I might…not make it this time.”
“Yes, you will.”
“I’ll lose my hair. You love my hair, Zach.”
“Not more than I love you. Christ, Dusty.”
“I’m sorry…but I just can’t bear the thought of leaving you alone. I want more than that for you.”
“Damn it, woman, there are no guarantees in life. I could be hit by a semi tomorrow. And if I am, I sure as hell want to be spending today with you!”
She burst into tears.
“Come on now, that’s not fair.” He brushed her cheeks with his thumbs.
“I love you so much.”
“Then you’ll marry me tomorrow?”
She sniffed, rubbing her nose on his shoulder. “Yes. I’ll marry you tomorrow. I’d be honored to marry you tomorrow.”
“Good. Now, how are you feeling? This very minute.”
“Pretty well, actually. I was nauseated this morning, but since Jemma—she’s the cat—went into labor, I’ve been feeling a lot better.”
“Then put on your best outfit. I’m taking my woman to dinner.”
“It’s Sunday, Zach. Nothing in Black Eagle is open on Sunday. Small town, you know?”
“To hell with Black Eagle. We’re driving into Billings. I already made the reservation at Chez Nous.”
“Chez Nous? That’s so expensive.”
“Darlin’, there’s something you need to understand about me.”
“What’s that?”
He winked at her. “I’m loaded.”
She burst out laughing.
“Now that’s a sweet sound.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. And there’s something else you should know.”
“What?”
“As soon as we’re married, you’ll be covered under my health plan, so you don’t have to worry about your medical bills.”
“But the leukemia is a pre-existing condition.”
“Doesn’t matter. I have a really good policy.”
She hugged him tightly. “If you only knew how much I’ve been worried about all the bills, as well as everything else. You’re my knight in shining armor, do you know that?”
“I’ll settle for being the man you love, darlin’.” He lifted her off his lap and patted her bottom. “Now get dressed. We’ll worry about this other stuff tomorrow.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sitting at a candlelit table at Chez Nous, staring at her handsome and wonderf
ul fiancé, who looked scrumptious in a blue-and-white striped button-down and navy Dockers, Dusty almost forgot about her blood test.
“Darlin’?”
“Hmm?”
“Could I talk you into telling me one more thing?”
“Maybe. What is it?”
“What exactly happened to your pa?”
Big jolt of reality. Dusty didn’t like talking about her father, largely because she felt responsible for his situation. Rationally, she knew none of it was her fault, but her illness had been the catalyst.
She took a deep breath. “I once promised never to lie to you.”
“You did.”
“The truth is, my father killed himself.”
Zach nodded solemnly, but said nothing.
“He swallowed a whole bottle of my pain pills, and he left a note for Sam and me.” She stopped for a few seconds and then went on. “We’ve never told anyone about it, but I think most people probably know.”
“Didn’t the coroner figure it out?”
“He’s an old family friend, so he didn’t do an autopsy and he kept it quiet.”
“I see.”
“Papa got involved in some bad investments after I got sick. We didn’t have any health insurance, and as you can guess, cancer treatment is expensive. He went a little crazy when I was diagnosed, probably because of what had happened to Mama. He was determined I was going to live, because he couldn’t go through losing someone again.”
“He loved you very much.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he did. So he researched all the options for treatment. He actually considered sending me to the Mayo Clinic, until my oncologist in Billings assured him that my type of leukemia was fairly common as far as cancers go, and the treatment was standard and would be the same no matter where we went. Anyway, a couple months after I went into remission, Papa started selling off our livestock. I was still so happy to be well that I didn’t ask a lot of questions. Soon we had nothing left. He let me keep Regina, though.” She choked up, but took a drink of water and continued.
“After Papa died, Sam and I found out there were several mortgages on the ranch. He had left us a note saying he was sorry, that he knew we were young and strong and we’d be better off without him. Truth is, we needed him.”