She pressed her hands to her temples. “Why can’t we just be friends?”
Caleb knew she was afraid. Hell, so was he. But he also knew she felt more than friendship for him or she never would have given herself to him the way she did in the sunshine that morning.
Oh, she might have sex with a man now and then. A woman had needs, just as a man did. Then, too, she’d had to prove to herself and to whoever else she felt needed proof last year that she was, indeed, over Sloan. She’d spent the night with some joker from the next county, and then had never seen the man again. Caleb would be damned if she would dismiss him the same way.
But that wasn’t sex he and Melanie had shared that morning. No, they hadn’t had sex, they had made love, and she had cried in his arms because she’d been overwhelmed by emotion.
“Why can’t we be just friends?” he asked. “Because of this.” And he kissed her. Not a peck on the cheek or a friendly brush of lips, but an all-out liplocking, breath-stealing, mind-numbing kiss.
Melanie’s head reeled. It had been so long since she’d tasted him. Hours and hours since they’d shared a real kiss. She hadn’t known how much she had craved it.
It was weak of her, wasn’t it, to want a man this badly? Was she doomed to fool herself, to make a fool of herself for another ten or fifteen years over yet another Chisholm?
But she wasn’t a child this time. There was no one urging her to please him, to eat her vegetables, tie ribbons in her hair, rope that steer faster so Caleb will like her better.
This time there was only Caleb and her. Just the two of them, and she didn’t think she had the nerve to open herself to him the way he seemed to want. What if she opened herself, and there was nothing there?
She was afraid to find out.
He wanted too much from her. She wasn’t brave enough to love him. She got along just fine without being in love, didn’t she? Why did things have to change?
She pulled away from him and stepped back. Her chest was heaving, trying to supply air to her lungs.
“I’m going home,” she said. “We’ve been gone too long.”
He let her go, reluctantly, it seemed. She turned away, and in that last glimpse of him in the moonlight she saw in his eyes that she had hurt him.
She stopped, hung her head.
He walked past her and kept going.
“Caleb, wait. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” But he kept walking.
A new fear seized Melanie. What if she was wrong? What if these confused and confusing feelings she had for Caleb meant she was truly in love with him? What if this was her last chance with him? What if she hurt him, pushed him away one too many times and he let her put distance between them, let her hold him at arm’s length?
Was that what she wanted? To lean on him but never hold him again? To confide in him rather than kiss him? To shake his hand or slap him on the shoulder as one good friend might do to another, instead of making sweet hot love the way they’d done that morning?
Or, maybe, if she pushed him away hard enough and far enough, to lose him altogether.
Oh, God, no. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. Didn’t that mean something?
“Caleb, I’m sorry. Wait. Please?”
Ten paces ahead, he slowed to a stop.
Melanie rushed to his side. “Please don’t be angry with me,” she begged.
He let out a long breath. “I’m not angry.”
“I’m scared, Caleb. You want something from me I’m not sure I can give you.”
He turned and cupped his hands on her shoulders. “All I want is for you to be yourself, Melanie. Just be honest with me, and with yourself. That’s all.”
“No.” She smiled sadly. “That’s not all, but even if it were, it’s not so easy a thing you ask, for me to be honest with myself. That’s the part that scares me. Can we just…”
“Be friends?”
“I was going to say take it slow, so I don’t feel quite so much like I’m in over my head with you. I don’t want to hurt either one of us, and I’m afraid I will.”
He let out another long breath and slipped one arm around her shoulder and started them walking again toward her house. “Sure, we can take it slow. But, Melanie, the one thing I don’t want you to do is hurt yourself. I don’t ever want that.”
As they topped the rise and the house appeared two hundred yards ahead, the true meaning of his words sank in. He loved her that much, that he would rather she hurt him than herself. No man had ever loved her that much before. It made her feel all soft and quivery inside. Her eyes stung and her heart hurt.
What did a woman do when she was loved by a man like Caleb Chisholm?
That question echoed over and over inside her head as they crept quietly along the fence and came up to the house at the angle that would keep them hidden from Little Donnie.
She was still pondering the question as Caleb pushed open the window in the den and gave her a leg up. She crawled through into the room as quietly as possible, hearing nothing but the television from the living room.
It was as she straightened and turned back toward the window that the truth hit her, and when it came, it seemed so simple, so inevitable and natural, that it took her breath away.
Suddenly she leaned out the window. “Caleb?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I just wanted to tell you I love you, too.”
While he stood there and gaped, she ducked back inside the room and rushed out to find her parents before she had to face Caleb again. She’d said the words and meant them. But what if she’d been wrong and they weren’t what he’d wanted from her? What if he was standing out there right now laughing because she thought he loved her? He hadn’t actually said he loved her. He’d said he wanted her to love him. There was a big difference. Wasn’t there?
A woman could go crazy thinking about such things.
Okay, so she loved him. That didn’t have to change everything, did it? They could still be friends. They’d just be closer friends than before. Intimate friends.
That had a nice ring to it. Intimate friends. A little on the hollow side, but a nice ring, nonetheless.
Caleb stood outside the open window, too stunned for a moment to do more than stare at the empty spot that had, only an instant before, held Melanie’s face.
Had she really said she loved him, or had it all been in his head, because he’d had a sharp, burning need to hear those words from her.
There was only one way to find out. He practically dived through the window, only to find the den empty. He found her in the living room explaining to her parents what had been happening.
George was still slumped in the corner of the sofa, snoring lightly.
“And she had the baby right there on the ground,” Melanie said.
“In the woods?” Fayrene gasped. “That poor woman.”
“I’ll say. With nobody to help her but Caleb and me. Oh, Caleb, there you are. I was just—”
“What did you just say?” he asked carefully.
Melanie pursed her lips. “There you are?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Before that.”
“Maria had the baby on the ground in the woods?”
“Melanie.”
“Later.”
“Is there something the two of you would like to share with us?” Fayrene asked.
“No,” they said in unison.
Ralph shook his head. “Illegal aliens, right here on the PR. What was Bruno thinking?”
“That he was going to get away with it,” Caleb said.
“I’m sorry, Daddy, but we couldn’t leave those people there. That leaves you in a bad spot with Bruno.”
“Well, I’m not going to just lie down for him, now, am I?” He reached behind the sofa and hefted a shotgun. “I owe him the money, and I should pay him. But I should never have agreed to this. I won’t have my family threatened and held hostage. I won’t have my
ranch used this way. I thought it would be stereos or computers or something, and that would have been bad enough. But people, no way.”
“You were coerced,” Melanie said.
“Threatened,” Caleb added. “Got another shotgun?”
“Oh, Lord.” Fayrene started fanning herself. “I think I might faint.”
“Faint, my aunt Fanny.” Ralph chuckled at her. “You’re the one who drugged the fellow with the gun.”
“Why, Ralphie.” Fayrene patted his arm. “You say that like you’re almost proud of me.”
“Of course I’m proud of you, darlin’.” He patted the hand she’d left on his arm and kissed her cheek. Then he passed a pistol to her and another to Melanie. “Now, we better be figuring out what we’re gonna do.”
After several minutes of discussion, during which they more or less decided they didn’t know what they were going to do, Ralph proclaimed that he was in charge. It was his house, his ranch and his debt. Therefore, his problem.
“While Sleeping Beauty here is still snoring away, I want the rest of you to sneak out the back, like the two of you did earlier, and stay away from the house until Bruno and his crew have come and gone.”
“And leave you here alone?” Fayrene cried.
“Shh,” he warned. “You’ll wake up George.”
“We’re not leaving you,” Melanie stated firmly.
“We can signal for help whenever we need it,” Caleb told him. “If you can talk the ladies into leaving, power to you, but I’m staying. You can’t take on George, Little Donnie, Bruno and whoever else he brings with him.”
Melanie narrowed her eyes. “Did I hear you just suggest—”
“That we all stay,” Caleb said in a rush.
Melanie beamed. “Smart man.”
“I’m learning.”
Ralph glanced across the room toward the kitchen. “Looks like talking time’s up. Here comes somebody.”
They rushed to the kitchen in time to see two pick-ups, each with a camper shell, drive past the barn and head toward the pasture.
“Well,” Caleb said. “Shouldn’t be long now.” If he said he wasn’t worried, he’d be lying. He pulled out his grandmother’s cell phone and called Sloan with the prearranged signal. It was time to line up the reinforcements.
Sloan and Justin had said they would head to the PR, by way of the back woods, as soon as they got their new guests back to the house. The signal was to let them know to hurry, in case they hadn’t left home yet. The plan was for them to slip into the house by way of the same window Caleb and Melanie had used, the window Caleb had left open.
Caleb’s brothers would come armed, but they knew to come quietly, stealthily, and not barge in without knowing what was going on. The last thing anyone wanted was for someone to get hurt, and with the number of guns already in the house, not to mention those that soon would be, someone getting hurt was an all too likely possibility.
Still, Ralph was right to have the guns ready. When a rattlesnake slithered into your house you didn’t wait to see what his intentions were before protecting yourself.
Having already taken George’s gun away from him, Ralph now walked over and kicked the man’s foot. “Wake up, George. Wake up. Bruno’s here.”
George blinked his eyes open and looked around, clearly confused. Slowly he pushed away from the back of the sofa until he was sitting upright on the edge. “What happened?” He scrubbed his face with both hands.
Ralph stood facing him on the opposite side of the coffee table. “You fell asleep.”
George stared up at him blankly. “I what?”
“Here.” Fayrene brought in a fresh mug. “Have some coffee. It’ll wake you up.”
When everybody chuckled, George frowned. He took the mug from Fayrene and stared at it. “Did I…? Never mind.” He took a sip, then nearly dropped the mug when he spotted the shotgun dangling from Ralph’s hand. “What the hell?” He looked this way and that, from his lap to the sofa to the floor, moving and jerking so fast he sloshed coffee over the back of his hand and yelped.
“If you spill any more of that I’ll make you sorry,” Fayrene warned. “I’ll not have my sofa and carpet ruined by the likes of you.”
“I’d pay attention to her if I were you.” Ralph smiled at George. “I learned a long time ago never to upset her when she’s armed.”
From his spot in the wide doorway between the living room and kitchen, Caleb shook his head and chuckled silently. The things a man learned about his neighbors when he popped in on them uninvited.
A few hours ago Ralph had looked like a whipped puppy. Now he was his old self again, steady and sure and not in the mood to take any crap from anyone. That was the Ralph Pruitt Caleb had known all his life. The man who’d raised Melanie into the intriguing, infuriating, marvelous woman she’d become.
The woman in question, with pistol in hand, strolled over to his side. “What’s that look mean?”
He smiled. “What look would that be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like maybe you just won the lottery.”
“Didn’t I?”
She smiled, then glanced out the window over the sink. Her smile faded. “We’ll discuss it later, if we’re still in one piece. Here they come. There’s three pick-ups now. They brought the one that was already out there.”
“Ralph,” Caleb called. “It’s time. Where do you want us?”
“George, you come with me. Have a seat there at the kitchen table. And keep your mouth shut.”
“Man, are you crazy?” George jumped up and rounded the coffee table to confront Ralph. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re almost home free with Bruno. Why do you want to go and mess it up?”
“You don’t need to worry about it.” Ralph raised the shotgun one-handed and motioned toward the kitchen. “Just get in there and sit down.”
“Bruno’s not gonna like this, Pruitt.”
“You think?”
“They’re driving out to talk to Little Donnie,” Caleb said, looking out the kitchen window. “I don’t suppose we could be so lucky as to have them all just drive away. Nope. Here they come.” When the three campers parked next to Caleb’s pickup, doors popped open, men piled out. “I count three,” Caleb said. “One’s staying in the pickup. Little Donnie stayed at the driveway. We’ll need to keep an eye on them so they don’t surprise us.”
“You people are toast,” George said with a growl. “All of you.”
No one bothered to answer him.
The back door burst open and in came three men. The one in the lead was the biggest, both in height and girth and hair. He stood about six foot two and weighed at least two-fifty. His carrot-orange hair stuck out around his head like a giant red afro. When he walked he rolled from side to side like a man striding the deck of a wave-tossed ship.
This, Caleb knew, had to be Bruno McGuire. He looked every bit as Irish as his last name indicated. To go with his orange-red hair he had blue eyes, fair skin and more freckles than an Appaloosa had spots. And he was definitely the man in charge. Or rather, thought he was.
“What the hell’s going on around here?” he demanded, gaping at the guns pointing at him.
Melanie stood in the doorway to the living room with her pistol. Ralph stood next to the kitchen table, shotgun aimed at Bruno. Caleb leaned against the sink. He covered the two men behind Bruno. Fayrene was their backup, standing hidden in the dark pantry behind the men who had just barged in, a big honking Colt 45 held steady in her hands.
“You look surprised, Bruno.” Ralph stared at his bookie dead on.
“There’s no need for guns, Pruitt.”
“Are you going to tell me you and your men aren’t armed? You all just keep your hands in plain sight.”
“I don’t want any trouble here,” Bruno said. “You and me had a deal, Pruitt. Are you welching?”
“I never welch on a bet,” Ralph protested. “I owe you money, and I’ll pay it. I don’t know how, but I will. You had no
call to threaten me and my family into going along with this business tonight.”
“It was just a simple merchandise drop,” Bruno complained.
“Your man here,” Ralph said, nodding toward George, “held a gun on my little girl.”
“And his little girl,” Melanie said, sauntering forward, “didn’t like it. She also didn’t like what she found in the back of your pickup. She especially didn’t like your using this ranch to smuggle what amounts to slaves. I mean, stereos or computers or cigarettes I could have tolerated. But not people. Poor people desperate enough to believe the lies they were told about what waited for them here.”
Everything would have been all right, Caleb thought, if Melanie had stopped where she stood. Instead, she took one more step, putting her within reach of George, still seated where Ralph had ordered him, at the kitchen table.
Even as Caleb opened his mouth to warn her, it was too late. She put herself within inches of George.
George gave her a hard shove directly toward Bruno. Melanie’s gun went flying, hit the refrigerator and landed on the floor. Melanie landed against Bruno.
Not one to miss an opportunity, Bruno spun her around and twisted her arm up behind her back.
Melanie cried out in surprise and pain.
“Drop your guns,” Bruno ordered. “Or I’ll break her arm. Do it!”
“Just take it easy,” Caleb said. “There’s no need to get excited.”
“Excited? I’ve got two guns pointed at me.”
“Now you know how we felt today,” Ralph said.
“Put ’em down!” Bruno jerked Melanie’s arm again.
“All right.” Caleb couldn’t stand seeing her face contort in pain. “Ralph?”
“Yeah. Okay, we’re putting ’em down. Turn her loose.”
“Put ’em down first.”
Caleb and Ralph placed their shotguns on the floor. Caleb had no idea what Fayrene was doing, as the pantry was too dark.
The instant their guns were down, the two men with Bruno pulled pistols from beneath their jackets and covered the room.
The Chisholm Brothers:Friends, Lovers... Husbands? Page 36