Rachel swallowed and came up behind his chair. This wasn't interference, she told herself. Not when his pain needed to be assuaged. Not when her heart ached to ease it.
Raising both hands she put them on Luke's shoulders. Gently Rachel began to knead his shoulders, moving up to the muscles of his neck. Iron would have been more malleable.
"Tell me about Rob."
The words were stiff at first, but slowly the tempo picked up, the sentences became smoother. Luke described escapade after escapade, surprised to find himself laughing over the mischief they had got into as boys. Then later there had been girls and college. A deep and abiding sibling friendship had enriched their lives. They had always been able to talk to each other, count on each other.
When Luke stopped talking, Rachel simply said, "Good memories are their own strength aren't they?"
And Luke had to acknowledge they were. As he had talked he had felt Rob's presence in the room and it had been like a shaft of sunlight aimed at his heart. Warming, healing, erasing.
"If it had been you, and not Rob and Chris who had been killed," asked Rachel going straight for the jugular, "how would you have liked to be remembered?"
He went so still she thought he wouldn't answer. Then Luke said softly as if raising the curtain on a certain thought for the first time. "I would have wanted to be remembered with love, with joy."
"By the way you were in life, not the manner of your death?" Rachel prompted softly.
She didn't say anything more for quite a while. Didn't need to. A clock ticked each passing moment. She could sense the difference in Luke.
Luke looked at the tray. When had Rae stopped working on his shoulders and slipped into the chair pulled up to his desk? She had pushed a plate towards him, nudged the wicker basket of crusty rolls in his direction but said nothing. He had done justice to the meal while he had talked. Now he had to do justice to his brother's memory.
Rae was right. There was so much happiness packed into his memories of Rob, so much to hold on to. As reason drowned the pain, Luke knew he would never again allow bitterness to cloud his memories.
The knowledge freed him from an iron ball and chain of his own making. He felt drained, refreshed, whole.
Rachel stood up and reached for the tray. Her work here was done.
Luke caught the hand she put out for the tray, meaning only to thank her. But the feel of her small wrist ignited a voracious fire inside him. A tug and she was in his lap. He wanted her close to him, just for a few minutes, he told himself, just long enough to reassure him his angel was a flesh and blood human being.
His senses reeled under the impact of her in his arms. She fitted perfectly. If she had been stiff he would have exercised caution but she snuggled up to him like Gordie might have. Boneless, trusting, eager. The scent of crushed roses teased his nostrils and they flared as he tried to rein in desire.
"Luke?" The excitement threaded with apprehension on her face heightened his awareness. Her breath warm and sweet flirted with the muscles on his cheek.
"Thank you for helping me put things in perspective." Odd he should sound so hoarse. He didn't want to frighten her with the force of his feelings. Maybe words would help him cool off. "I had things under control till Dad called this morning. He sounded so sad, so tired. He said the greatest sorrow any man could face was to live long enough to see his children die. Something snapped in me then, and I had to get away."
"I know." One hand came up and for a fleeting moment her fingertips rested against his cheek. The strongest always fell the hardest. Luke had been so busy getting on with life he hadn't even realized he owed his mind time to grieve, to adjust.
Luke tensed under her touch. It was the first time Rachel had touched him like this. He looked at her and suddenly he wanted her closer. Much, much closer. Lowering his lips he delved into the comfort she was offering so freely.
Rachel wasn't aware of threading her fingers through Luke's hair of urging him to increase the pressure of his mouth. All she knew was every nerve in her body was straining towards him. Their clothes seemed to be in the way. She slid her hand into the neck of his shirt splayed her fingers against his skin exploring the satiny surface.
Luke knew it wouldn't take much to make love to Rae here and now, but there were too many other things to consider. Sympathy wasn't to be mistaken for love. It was part of her giving nature that she wouldn't hold anything back, wouldn't regret anything. But he would. There was more at stake here than the need to lose oneself temporarily. Rae deserved nothing less than the best.
Gently he placed his hands on her upper arms, held her away. When she came to him, it would have nothing to do with sympathy or compassion.
Luke hugged her as he saw the embarrassment dawn on her face, claimed one last kiss and then put her on her feet. "I think I hear Angela in the family room."
Rachel pressed her palms against her hot cheeks to cool them. She had latched on to his change of mood. She didn't need it spelled out to realize that she had been a hairsbreadth away from making an utter fool of herself. "I have to check on Gordie."
She was almost at the door when Luke stopped her. Hand on the knob to keep it shut he lifted her chin with a finger, "Rae, don't misunderstand what just happened in here," he ordered sternly. "I want you, but when we make love it will stem only from our feelings for each other: nothing else." He watched the rich color flood her face before he said, "Loving is a celebration of a man and a woman's commitment to each other. Nothing should be allowed to mar that celebration. Not compassion, not doubts."
He opened the door for her and Rachel walked out on legs that had lost all sensation. She didn't know what she said to Angela who fortunately was already immersed in her favorite television series.
In her room Rachel leaned against the door, pressing a hand over her heart. It was beating like a sledgehammer. Fast, furious, excited.
She had thought of love. Of loving. Often. But never in her wildest dreams had she thought of it as a celebration. She shivered thinking of Luke's dark eyes, the hands that were so clever. Yes, the woman Luke loved wouldn't be in any doubt that she was taking part in a celebration.
Luke watched her mount Sabrina from the office window. She rode as she did everything else. With quiet confidence.
He thought of the way she had felt on his lap yesterday and his eyes narrowed. If he had taken what she had offered so readily how would she be feeling today? Or had she already decided to have an affair with him and then go back to Bangladesh, heart whole and fancy free, content with the knowledge she had loved a man?
Juan was saying something about supplies. Luke listened absent mindedly.
No, Rachel wasn't capable of a cold blooded decision like that. The armor she had donned had more cracks now than the San Andreas Fault in California. She cared about people deeply. To her caring was synonymous with giving. He thought of the way she was with Gordie, the look on her face when Hannah had said her back hurt, the way she had bullied Mojo into listening to her. Rachel Carstairs was all woman. A lifetime of loving her wouldn't be enough. The problem was to convince her of it.
"I know it's a large order," Juan said, "but at this price and if the quality is consistent with the samples we've been sent, we could be getting a real bargain."
"Um," said Luke.
Take yesterday for instance. She had got through to him as no one had since the accident that had taken Rob and Chris. But he couldn't delude himself into thinking it was because he was who he was. Rae would have done the same for anyone in his place. She had the magic of healing at her fingertips, an instinct that went beyond mere knowledge or experience. Surely, he thought, that same instinct would let her acknowledge her true feelings. Mentally she was stronger than anyone he knew, definitely stronger than him. Would that same mental strength make her hold on to the thought she wasn't cut out for any other life except her work with MRA?
Luke wondered what he would do if Rae decided that there was no place in her life for
him. For the first time in his life he was at a point where thinking things through didn't seem to serve any purpose.
"Rainbow's End died last night," Juan said quietly, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth as he tested Luke's concentration.
"Um."
Rachel was saying something to Mojo who was riding beside her. Incredibly enough it had been the Indian who had got her to start riding. He had simply saddled Sabrina and brought the mare to the house one afternoon on a leading rein, informing Rachel the horses needed exercise and they were going for a ride.
A surprised Rachel, Theresa had informed Luke later, had looked at the Indian silently for a minute and then nodded, "Wait a minute while I change into jeans."
Friendship based on respect had taken root immediately between the pair. They rode every day. Mojo talked to Rachel, something he rarely did with anyone else, and she was perfectly at ease with him. Her riding skills were improving and she didn't seem afraid of the horses any more.
"Two men broke into Stable A last night," Juan said his grin threatening to split his face.
"Good," said Luke.
He would send for that beautiful hand tooled saddle he'd seen in the catalog last week, maybe give it to her at Christmas.
"Luke, shall we do this some other time?' Juan asked patiently.
"What?' Luke spun around.
"Your mind's not on horse feed at the moment," said Juan politely but the twinkle in his eyes said a lot more. He glanced at the window. "Maybe you should go for a ride too."
Luke grinned, not in the least embarrassed to have his thoughts guessed so accurately. He had nothing to hide from the man who was like an uncle to him. "I'm sorry Juan," he said unrepentantly. "You have my full attention now."
Pulling a chair up to the desk he straddled it and tried to shut out thoughts of the child-woman who robbed his nights of sleep.
"Now that Hannah plans on returning Friday morning, would you like to go to L.A. with me on Saturday?" Luke asked Rachel on Thursday morning, "It will give you a chance to get some shopping done. I have some business to take care of, that shouldn't take too long. We can see a show at night if you like, stay overnight, and return in time for Sunday dinner."
Hannah had called last night to say her back was fine now. Rachel smoothed Gordon's baby fine hair back. Holding one of his hands she brushed his fingers against her lips reveling in the downy softness of his hand, taking her time about answering Luke.
Ever since their last kiss he had been like this. Not crowding her in any way, but letting her know he was waiting for her to come around to his way of thinking. What he didn't know was she could be as stubborn as a gold miner's mule. That she had no intention of giving in to her feelings.
"Let me call Dr. Smith and see if I can get an appointment with him Saturday." Rachel said quietly. "I have to fix up details of my next assignment."
Black clouds moved across Luke's brow. "Dr. Kenton hasn't given you an all clear yet," he pointed out.
"I'll have a blood test done at the MRA headquarters," Rachel replied. "There's nothing wrong with me now. I'm eating like a horse, I can walk for miles without tiring, I sleep like a log and am getting as fat as one of Theresa's cows."
The small dairy that supplied the Diamond Bar with milk was Theresa's domain.
Luke wasn't the least bit amused but he didn't argue, simply said, "Let me know what you decide." The banging of the study door was the only sign of his tension.
Rachel looked at Gordie sitting comfortably astride her hip and her chin wobbled. He had become so much a part of her it was going to be hard to let go. Not that she would have it any other way, now. He turned to her for every little thing, as if he sensed her love for him went deeper than a woman's for just any baby.
"It's for the best you know," she whispered to him. One hand came up to gently finger his curls, file the memory of their silkiness for when she would be on the other side of the world.
Rachel leafed through the latest issue of Parents as she kept an eye on Gordie. The sun room had been converted into his private domain when he had started crawling. The only things in here were his toys, an enormous beanbag, a couple of soft armchairs and the rocking chair. Watching him haul himself to his feet and look around at her triumphantly, Rachel said, "That's great, Gordie."
Her mind revolved around a remark Theresa had made a little while ago. She had said something about how much Robbie and Chris had loved each other and then concluded with, "The wisest people are those who grab at love when it comes around.”
Was Theresa trying to get a message across? That life was short, and people who didn't grab at happiness when they could, were fools? Rachel bit her lip. But foolish was also going into a contract as sacred as marriage without being sure of one's ability to deliver.
Gordie had crawled over to his walker and was banging on it. Rachel put him into the red seat. Propelling himself backwards across the room at his normal speed, Gordie came to a halt against the large cushions placed at the end of the room to stop him. As always he looked amazed when something blocked his way.
Rachel frowned down at her hands. Her body clamored for more of the feelings Luke roused in her, for the right to give those feelings rein. The longer she stayed here the less will power she had. But she mustn't weaken. To grab what she wanted now, and find out later it wasn't enough to last a lifetime would be disastrous for all of them. There had been enough grief on the Diamond Bar to last everyone a long time.
Gordie let out a wail and Rachel got up to turn the walker around, her decision already made.
As soon as Marie came out to watch Gordie, she would call Dr. Smith in L.A. and insist on being given her new assignment.
CHAPTER 9
Saturday was picture postcard perfect. The sky looked as if a blue sheet had been fitted over it. There was not a single cloud in sight. The temperature promised to go up to the seventies and even the usual early morning chill didn't seem quite as cold with the sun shining so brightly.
Luke had mentioned leaving early. Rachel was up by four thirty, oddly restless. By five she couldn't stay in bed any longer. Hannah found her in the kitchen taking a pan of perfect muffins out of the oven when she came into the kitchen an hour later.
"Good morning!" Her raised eyebrows conveyed her surprise. "You're an early bird today aren't you? Those muffins look just about perfect."
"I found your cookery book in the drawer and Theresa said you wouldn't mind if I used it." Rae wondered if she should have gone for a walk instead.
"Of course I don't mind you using the cookery book," said Hannah briskly, "and the fact you've made those is going to give me time to finish my list. Are you sure you don't mind doing some shopping in L.A. for me? Don't worry if you can't get everything on the list. Mid-week Betty and I are going to L.A. for the day." Hannah looked at the list, then at the table searching for something. "Oh dear. I forgot the wool sample."
"Shall I get it for you?" Rachel offered her eyes on her masterpiece. The muffins really were perfect. Now, if only her other attempts were as successful. Yesterday her cheese sauce had had more lumps than an old pillow and the day before her cake had been trashed.
"Thanks but I'm not sure where I put it. My memory's getting worse every day." Muttering Hannah left the room.
The remark captured Rachel's attention. It was the first she had heard of anything being wrong with Hannah's memory. The housekeeper was the perfect historian. She could remember things Grandpa Rob had said clearly. Dates, times, even the season. Listening to her talk about the early days on the ranch was better than reading a book.
Turning to the tiled counter, Rachel made herself some tea. Hannah had returned yesterday with a present for her. A mug with her name on it. Touched Rachel had hugged her and almost started crying.
"Gaga."
"Good morning sweetheart." She could barely finish the greeting. The navy sweatpants Luke wore rode low on his hips. Impervious to the cold, he hadn't stopped to pull on the
top. Water glistened like dewdrops on his chest and his hair wet and damp testified to the fact he had just got out of the shower. The baby's softness against Luke's powerful muscled chest was incredibly provocative. A pulse broke into a gallop in Rachel's throat.
"He's in a hurry for his bottle." Luke reached out to the refrigerator.
"Here let me help." Shrugging off her trance Rachel reached for a bottle and plugged in the warmer. This close to Luke the scent of soap mingled with a citrusy aftershave was all around her. Rachel shivered under the combined assault.
"Want me to take him while you get ready?'
Luke skimmed her from head to toe and Rachel felt her color rise. Dressed in jeans and sweater for comfort, she wished now she had something more elegant to wear. But fine feathers stuck on a duck didn't change it into a swan.
"Sure." Luke said easily. "It looks like we're going to have a nice day but take your jacket anyway. It will get cool at night."
"Okay."
Hannah came in as Rachel sat at the kitchen table with a diaper clad Gordie watching him tug at the bottle in his usual hurry. "Let me take him so you can have a muffin while they're still warm." she said. "The list was in my pocket all along."
"No thanks Hannah," Rachel looked down at the navy blue eyes fixed on her face. "I'll eat with you and Luke."
This was one of the few times in the day that Gordie allowed anyone to cuddle him. He was growing so quickly and the fact she wouldn't be here to revel in the changes made her throat tighten. Gordie smiled up at her and Rae knew at that moment she wouldn't have changed places with anyone in the world. Maybe one day when she was very old she would come back and watch the pictures Luke was always taking with his digital camera, catch up on what she had missed. Maybe Hannah would email her some each month.
Hannah paused a minute and looked at the picture they made before turning away with a self-satisfied smile. She had timed that little incident just right. That man-eating fortune hunter who had visited them last year had done some good after all. Remembering the way the woman had carried on about how the sight of Luke's bare chest turned her on, Hannah had thought of letting Rachel have a glimpse of it. He usually came in like that first thing in the morning.
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