He looked at her as if she'd suggested they blow up the capitol dome in Carson City. He put both hands on her upper arms and gently squeezed. "Listen, Anne, I'm not some hedonist who only cares about having a good time. I adore that little girl and I would never forgive myself if something happened and I wasn't there to help."
"But..."
He shook his head sternly, his frown harsh. "Don't use Zoey's illness as a wedge between us. If you don't want to be with me, just say so. But don't look at me like I'm you're ex-husband. I'm here for you both. Now, get in the car."
Will was pretty sure he'd blown it. One minute he and Anne were flirting like teens, the next they were silent strangers. Normally, he wouldn't have come on so strong to her suggestion that he stay at the party, but the inference--that he only wanted one thing from her--had wounded him deeply. Did Anne really think so lowly of him? Or did she expect the worst from men, in general?
He wanted to ask but could tell by the way she twisted the beaded bag in her lap that now wasn't the time for an in-depth analysis of their relationship. Besides, his gut was in knots, too. Emergency rooms, scalpels, needles and sutures were such a common part of rodeo life that Will didn't give them a second thought--where his body was concerned. But picturing Zoey in respiratory distress, like that first morning when A.J. left, was enough to make his knees weak.
He stepped on the gas. "Most of the younger cowboys carry cell phones. I wish I'd thought to bring mine."
"How would that help? Only a trained paramedic knows what to do when her airway is blocked."
Her voice sounded surprisingly strong and calm. "I could have had them run to the main house to check on things. If Joy called an ambulance, we're going miles out of our way when we should be headed to the hospital."
Anne let out a sigh. "I could be wrong, but I'm hoping that this is a false alarm. I tend to panic where Zoey is concerned, but Joy is very capable. Did you know one of her grandchildren had asthma as a child? He's in his twenties now and very healthy."
Will didn't know that. The only member of Joy's family he'd ever met was Judy, who, from what he'd heard at the party tonight, was happily married and living in Alaska.
Anne nodded, "If this had been a real emergency, I'm sure Joy would have asked one of the guests to come and get us. Don't you think?"
He eased off the gas. What she said made sense, but he couldn't let go of the tension that gripped his insides. He wasn't used to caring about someone else.
And this little episode tonight proved to Will that his feelings for Anne and her daughter ran deeper than mere caring.
He stepped on the brake to turn into the Silver Rose driveway.
The fact was he loved them. There. I said it.
He loved Zoey and he was pretty sure he was in love with Anne. There'd always been something between them--familial, sexual or whatever--but what he felt now was way too intense to be anything but love.
Not that he intended to tell her. She had enough on her plate without fretting over his declaration of love.
"I'm coming in," he told her, pulling to a stop in front of the house. A cloud of dust enveloped them. "If we need to go to the hospital, I'll call ahead to alert the emergency room."
"Okay," she said, leaping out before the dust had settled. She left her purse and shawl on the seat. He turned off the engine and picked them up. As he walked to the house, he lifted the bundle to his face and inhaled her scent. Not perfume, but some indefinable quality so Anne, he could have picked her out of a lineup with his eyes closed.
He was at the foot of the stairs before he realized something was wrong. The house was dark. No bluish stutter of television from the parlor windows. No lights in the kitchen or dining room. If this were a crisis, he would have expected a bustle of volunteers.
Inside the foyer, he paused to listen. The creak of footsteps overhead told him Anne was in her room or Zoey's, but apparently everyone else was asleep. He set Anne's purse on the hall table, then hung her shawl and his hat on the coat rack before heading upstairs.
He was concentrating on being quiet and didn't realize Anne was standing at the top of the stairs until he bumped into her. She put a finger to her lips and motioned for him to go back downstairs.
Was she shutting him out? He hesitated for a second then turned around. To his surprise, she followed.
"Let's talk in the office," she said softly when they reached the foyer.
Will's curiosity mingled with relief. Whatever had happened, at least Zoey wasn't in danger.
Anne flipped on the overhead light and closed the door behind him. She leaned against it with a long sigh. "Turns out Joy overreacted. It must have been a minor attack. Joy said by the time she read through my emergency list, Zoey was already doing every step. She used her inhaler and went into the bathroom and ran the hot water so she could breathe the steam. She's fine. Sleeping like a baby."
Will felt his tension dissipate. He let out a bark of relief. "That's great. Why didn't she call you back and tell you?"
Anne looked down sheepishly. "Apparently, she did. I just listened to the first message and panicked. I'm sorry."
Will stepped to her and pulled her into a hug. "Don't apologize. Your reaction was completely understandable. It was a big night and Zoey was excited. Frankly, it crossed my mind when we left that she seemed a bit wired. I'm just glad it didn't turn into something more serious."
Anne gave him a peculiar look then slowly relaxed against him. "You never cease to amaze me."
"Oh, yeah? That's what everybody says. Everybody who doesn't know me."
She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I know you, and I think you're wonderful. Empathetic and kind. Pushy when needed. If you hadn't driven me home. I probably would have had a wreck along the way. I kept seeing visions of Zoey choking and passing out."
Me, too. He squeezed her tighter. "But it didn't happen. So, let it go. How 'bout a night cap?"
"Like what?"
Will stepped back and looked around. "I don't know, but I'm sure Gramps has some kind of liquor in the house. Esther was rather fond of a little toddy by the fire on a cold winter's night."
He crossed the room to a cabinet near the fireplace. As he did, he noticed the pile of bedding at the foot of the big leather sofa. He'd forgotten about the arrangement--Joy was sleeping in Anne's bed while Anne took the sofa. His mouth went dry.
He misjudged the force necessary to open the sticky doors of the hutch. The bang made his heart jump. His hand was trembling when he reached inside for a bottle. Cognac. Do I like cognac? Do I care?
He poured an inch of amber liquid into two short glasses then turned around. Anne was standing in front of the map where A.J.'s trail of postcards was making progress across America's heartland. "Try this," he said. "Should be well aged if nothing else."
Her nose crinkled like a rabbit's when she lifted the glass to her lips, but she closed her eyes and took a sip. Her wince wasn't as prominent as he'd expected. "Not bad. My ex used to drink cognac. He thought it made him look classy."
Will polished his off in one gulp. The burn felt good. "I used to drink on a regular basis until I found out I don't have the head for it. In my job, you need all the balance you can get. Alcohol messes with that."
Anne took another ladylike sip. She looked like a princess in her pretty yellow dress and sexy shoes, so beautiful it almost hurt him not to draw her into his arms and kiss her. But this was her call. He would make no move until she gave him some kind of signal.
"I'm seeing some progress in your grandfather's cards," she said, turning toward the wall again. "Wouldn't you agree?"
We're going to talk about A.J.? "He seems to make pretty good time each day."
"Not mileage--emotional healing. Each card seems a bit lighter in tone. And he says he misses us. That's good."
"Why is that good? He still has a long way to go. Do you want him to be unhappy all the way to Maine?"
She set the glass on the corner of the desk an
d walked to the wall. "No, of course, not, but it shows that he's healing. Listen to this... She plucked a card from central South Dakota. The photo was of a giant buffalo statue. She flipped it over and read aloud:
"Dear family,
Had breakfast at Al's Oasis in Chamberlain this morning. Coffee was a nickel. Do you remember suggesting we raise buffalo on the Silver Rose, Will? Can't recall why we didn't give it a try. They seem like an interesting animal.
Bought you a book of Sioux legends, Miss Zoey. Maybe you can read me one when I get back home."
Looking up, she gave Will a satisfied smile. "See? He's planning ahead. That's a good sign. And he obviously misses us. Especially you."
"Especially me?"
"Yes. He mentioned you by name. That means he's thinking about you. Men aren't always real obvious with their feelings."
Will took a step closer. "There you go again making rash generalizations. It should be pretty obvious what my feelings are. You're the one sending mixed signals. Do you want to clear those up for me?"
She stood her ground, but Will could tell she was debating how to reply. After a pause--eight seconds to be exact--she said, "What are the chances that we have a key for that door?"
Will's heart flipped and twisted. "As a matter of fact, I ran across one the other day. I meant to give it to you this morning when you mentioned that you planned to sleep in here. Guess I forgot."
"Do you still have it?"
He gave her a slow grin. "Oh, yeah. I've got it."
Anne reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Show me."
Chapter 9
Anne felt eighteen again. Nervous. Insecure about her body, her looks. But something was slightly different this time, and she was pretty sure it had to do with the way Will was looking at her. As if she were a genie who'd just granted him three wishes.
While flattered and excited, she was also scared. What if I’m not good enough?
"Um, I think it only fair to warn you, I'm not very accomplished in the art of love making," she said, stumbling over her choice of words.
She expected him to laugh. Instead, he rested his butt on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms. "Is that a standard disclaimer? Or do you think I'm some kind of cowboy gigolo?"
She wondered if she'd somehow hurt his feelings. She walked to the grouping of chairs and sat down, her skirt making a poofy puddle around her. "I'm just being honest. I haven't had a lot of experience in man-woman things, especially when it comes to sex."
"You were married. You have a child. Both are things I can't claim."
"True, but my relationship with Barry was sort of...perfunctory. Even from the beginning when I told myself we were in love. I think for both of us marriage was a means to an end. We'd graduated from college. Had good jobs. Time to marry, right? Settle down?"
"Perfunctory. What's that mean? Businesslike?"
Anne smiled. "Actually, that's a good description. We were never an in-each-other's-pocket kind of couple. We were independent, with separate agendas, and when our paths crossed we sometimes made love."
Will didn't say anything but Anne could tell he didn't approve. And she knew instinctively he would never settle for that kind of relationship. Just being his date for one night had proven that he took his connection to a woman seriously. From the minute they walked into the hall, Will had made it clear to everyone present that Anne was with him. And she'd liked the feeling. But, in defense of her former life, she added, "Believe it or not, that kind of relationship worked for us. We took great trips. Ate at marvelous restaurants. Seldom argued...until Zoey was born."
"Barry was an idiot."
Anne suddenly had a clear image of the last party she and Barry had attended. He'd left her at the door to "work the room." Their paths never crossed until she sought him out to leave because their baby-sitter needed to get home. Anne remembered hearing someone ask, "They're a couple? I never would have put the two of them together."
Will rolled his shoulders. "Was Barry the only guy you ever dated?"
Anne looked at her hands clenched in her lap. "No."
"Was he the best?"
She assumed he meant in bed. "No." That title belonged to Eduardo, her impetuous fling in Spain.
"I take it you were involved with someone before Barry," Will said. "Was he married?"
"Of course not." I don't think so. Although he was mysterious, and their meetings had been on the secretive side. She would go to his studio at a specified time. He'd paint. They'd eat bread and cheese and drink wine. Make love.
"He was a winter break fling during my junior year of college. I spent a three-week internship in Spain."
Will nodded. "I remember hearing about that trip when I came home for Christmas. A.J. was afraid you'd fall in love with some 'furinur.' "
She did fall in love, almost from the first moment when Eduardo approached her in the small café and showed her the sketch he'd made of her face. The pencil drawing made her more beautiful than she was, but he vowed that that was how he saw her.
"In retrospect, it was impossibly romantic and doomed from the start," she said, picturing the cluttered loft where they overcame a language barrier and laughed and made love on the floor. She never met his friends or family. He told her they would have disapproved, and while this had hurt her feelings, Anne still agreed to pose for him in the nude.
"He was my attempt to be cosmopolitan. I failed miserably. Instead being glad that he didn't ask me to rearrange my life and stay with him in Spain, I returned home with a broken heart and an oil painting I eventually gave away.”
That was a lie. An odd, impressionistic wash of body parts, the painting was in her closet at home. The only aspect that resembled her was the heart-shaped mole on her left breast.
She looked down at her chest. Will's very interested, very male response was flattering, but what if it was due to the dress? And her excellent bra? Childbirth and a grueling schedule that precluded time at the gym had taken a toll on her muscle tone. Nerves and a demanding job kept her thin, but was she too thin for Will's taste? So far this summer, her most revealing outfit had been shorts and a crop top.
Marshaling her courage, she looked at him. "I want to do this, Will, but I have to admit that I'm really nervous."
His lazy grin sent a shot of something far more potent than cognac through her veins. "And I'm not?"
"It's not the same. You're a guy."
"And guys don't get nervous when faced with the possibility of making love with a beautiful woman? Anne, I think it's time to burn your outdated guy manual. This is a new world. Men are just as insecure as women."
His lighthearted banter helped her relax. She crossed her legs, and her hemline exposed a few more inches of leg.
Maybe the cognac was doing its job, she thought, replenishing her drink from the bottle Will had left sitting on the lamp table.
"Hoping to relax your inhibitions or do you need a shot of courage?" he asked, a teasing quality in his tone.
"Both," she admitted. "I haven't been with a man since Barry left."
"Five years ago?" He sounded shocked.
"Hey, I've been busy. You try climbing the corporate ladder while taking care of a sick kid. See how much time you have left for a social life."
He pushed off from the desk and walked to her. Lowering to a squat, he balanced on the balls of his feet and touched her cheek. "That wasn't meant to sound critical. I'm just amazed that any woman as beautiful as you wouldn't have to turn down a hundred propositions a day."
"Eighty, minimum," she said lightly. "But I'm not big on having sex with someone who sees me as a way to advance his career or some guy who's in town for the week and decides I meet some highly refined criteria. I don't have time for meaningless friendships, much less meaningless sex."
"So you're saying what happens between us will mean something?"
Of course, it would, but Anne didn't want to think about that right now. "Yes, it means we like each other. But let's
be honest, Will. Even though we're drawn to each other and we have this slight unrequited history between us, what's happening here is more about proximity and opportunity than long-term possibilities."
Will's eyes narrowed. He started to say something but Anne took advantage of his slight hesitation. She pressed her lips to his.
She'd tasted him before, but this was different. Her cognac added an exotic element that fired an intense reaction in her belly. "You taste minty," she murmured, shifting her mouth to explore another angle.
His tongue was dexterous and playful. His nice white teeth nipped her upper lip before he drew back slightly. "Gramps left a supply of breath mints in the drawer," he said. "I'd offer you one, but I happen to like the way you taste. Rare. Perfectly aged."
She tossed back her head in laughter. "Never use the A-word when you're seducing a woman."
"Who's seducing whom?" he growled, pressing his lips to her throat. When he licked the pulse point in the hollow under her jaw, Anne nearly melted.
"Maybe you should give me some pointers. It's been a while for me, too. What should I talk about? How fair your skin is?"
Anne felt her face heat up. Not fair now.
"The texture is smoother than a polished agate buckle your mother once gave me."
His tongue traced a pattern downward to the plane of her collarbone. "And I love its color--sort of a gold and bronze mixed together." He slipped the strap of her dress aside. Anne was glad her bra was strapless. "But I can't wait to see more of this color." He nuzzled the outline where her tan stopped. "It reminds me of the pinkish white inside a seashell."
Anne put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back. "My artist friend used to describe my attributes as he...um, painted me."
Will rocked back and rose in one fluid motion. "Paint you? Now, there's an erotic idea. What color do you want to be? Where can I start? Belly button and work out or toes and work in?"
She knew he'd deliberately misinterpreted her remark and she was reminded once again not to underestimate his sharp wit. "Not this time, thanks. Passionate-pink toe nails are quite enough for me."
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