Chasing the Sun

by Kaki Warner

  Tonight, he thought, laughing softly as he unsaddled the horses. Was there ever going to be a grander night than tonight?

  After he’d brushed the animals and turned them out into the back pasture, he put the tack away, secured the barn, and headed toward the house.

  He took the stairs as quickly as he could. His leg was sore from the ride, but not as painful as yesterday, and certainly not troublesome enough to put him off his plans. He paused outside Daisy’s door to catch his breath and realized his hands were sweating and his heart was racing like a schoolboy’s. Which was stupid. He’d been bedding women for almost half his life. He’d bedded this woman. Many times. Probably. But this was different. This time it was important.

  He pushed open the door. The room was dark, but he could see by the moonlight coming through the French door that Daisy wasn’t there. Then he heard movement in the water closet and smiled, picturing her in the tub, naked and soapy and sleek with water, her skin rosy from the heat. He wanted to go in there and strip off his clothes and climb into the tub with her. But he decided not to. She was still holding back for some reason and he didn’t want to rush his fences. Even as young as she was, Daisy was headstrong. She wouldn’t like being pushed too hard.

  Stepping across the hall to his bedroom, he went through the dressing area and into the adjoining water closet. Quickly, he washed off the horse dirt, changed his shirt, and checked his teeth. When he went back into the hall, he almost plowed into the nursery girl as she came out of Kate’s room.

  “Everything all right?” he asked, peering past her into his daughter’s room.

  “Sí.” The young woman nodded and stifled a yawn. “Todo está bien.”

  After thanking her for staying with Kate, Jack sent her on to bed then stepped through the door, closing it softly behind him.

  Daisy was bent over the crib, humming softly as she stroked Kate’s back. He could smell the same flowery soap she used on Kate and saw that she had changed into a long flannel gown that seemed to hang on her small frame. She’d replaited her light brown hair, and the thick braid hung down her bent back, the end brushing against the rounded bottom that showed pink through the worn cloth.

  His heart pounded even harder.

  Grinning, he walked up behind her and slid his arms around her slender waist. He felt her startle, then relax as he pulled her back against the length of his body. She clasped her arms over his, and they stood in silence, looking down at their daughter. “We made a beautiful baby, didn’t we?” he finally said.

  “Yes, we did.”

  “Before you came, I never thought of being a father. Now I can’t imagine a life without her.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of Daisy’s head. “Thank you for bringing her to me.”

  He felt tension move through her. He thought she was about to say something, but she didn’t, and slowly relaxed back against him again. Her body felt small and soft and warm next to his. Lowering his head, he kissed her temple and whispered, “I want you.”

  “I can tell.”

  Chuckling, he slid his hands up and cupped her breasts. Her perfect breasts. “My room or yours?”

  Turning within his arms, she faced him. She looked sad, and he could almost feel her pulling back even though she hadn’t moved away. “Jack,” she began hesitantly.

  He cut her off, recognizing in her tone that same finality he’d heard in Elena’s voice when they had talked in the cemetery weeks ago. “I know you have things you need to do. But can’t we do them together?”

  “I can’t—”

  “Or is it the words?” He drew back to see her face, still holding her, but loosely, so she wouldn’t feel trapped. He put on a smile. “I can say them if you want, even though I’m not exactly sure what they mean or if there really is such a thing, but if there is, then I guess I come closest to it with you.”

  Hell. That made no sense whatsoever.

  Her frown of confusion told him she agreed. “What words?”

  He shrugged. A different kind of heat moved through him and up into his face. “You know. The words.”

  “Oh. Those words.” She smiled.

  Encouraged, he added, “I only said them once and that was in anger, so I don’t think it counts.”

  “To Elena?”

  “I’m not sure why I said it. Or even if I believe in it.” He gave a laugh that sounded odd in his own ear. “God knows there weren’t a lot of tender feelings floating around here when I grew up.”

  Her smile faded. She drew back as far as she could within the circle of his arms. “How can you say that? Your brothers adore you.”

  “Adore? I don’t think they even know the word.”

  Pulling all the way free, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Perhaps not the word, but the feeling is there. Just look at their faces when they’re with their wives. Or their children. Or you.”

  “Fine. Okay.” He waved the notion aside, embarrassed to be talking about his brothers in such a way. But before he could get back to what he meant to say, she cut in again.

  “I would give anything to have a family like yours. To have brothers or sisters, to have my parents back. You have no idea what it’s like when there’s no one left in the world who really knows you, or knew you as a child, or has the same memories you do. It’s like losing a part of yourself.”

  “I do care about my family, Daisy. But I’m ready to make another family. One with you and Kate.”

  “Even though you don’t love us.”

  “I didn’t say that.” He had to work hard not to let his frustration show. “I said I didn’t know exactly what those words meant. Does it mean wanting to spend time with you, share your bed, protect you? Talk to you about childhood memories, or hopes, or plans that stretch into old age? I don’t know.”

  He had her full attention now and he sensed that this was his one and maybe only chance to break through that wall she had been keeping between them. And this time, a smile wouldn’t do it, or even a touch. It had to be words straight from his heart. Christ. He was starting to think like a girl.

  Taking a deep breath, he let it out, then tried to put voice to all the confused emotions churning inside him.

  “But what I do know, Daisy, is that I want to wake up each morning with you beside me. I want to be able to touch you every day, hear you sing and laugh, look into your eyes when I make love to you. I never wanted that before. Not with Elena. Not with anyone. Is that love?” He spread his clumsy hands in a gesture of confusion. “I don’t know.”

  Surprised to see his hands were shaking, he dropped them back to his sides. “When I thought I’d lost you and Kate”—he hesitated, his throat going tight, his mind struggling to put those terrifying moments into words—“it was like all the breath and color and light went out of me. I felt ... empty. Like there was nothing left—no reason to go on. And I knew without any doubt that you and Kate and I belong together. Without each other, we’re like lost pieces of a puzzle that will never make sense on their own. Whether it’s here or in San Francisco or somewhere else, it doesn’t matter. You belong with me, Daisy. And I belong with you. I’m just trying to show that’s how I feel.”

  “By taking me to bed.”

  He nodded, hope sparking. “That’s the best way I know how.”

  She continued to study him.

  “I’ll even say the words, if you want,” he added lamely.

  “Will you? How generous.” A smile played at her lips. “Say them.”

  “Now?”

  She raised her brows.

  “Yeah. Okay.” For a moment that smothered feeling returned. He felt like he was back on the bluff, with the open sky above him and the ranch spread below, and all he had to do was lift his arms wide and take a step and he’d be flying.

  But what if she didn’t love him back? What if saying the words and opening up his heart wasn’t enough and she still left?

  He would fall like a stone.

  But for a few moments, at least, he would know
how it felt to fly.

  He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and stepped off solid ground into thin air. “I love you, Daisy.”

  Oddly, it wasn’t as difficult to say as he’d thought, although it did sound peculiar hearing those words spoken aloud in his own voice.

  “I love you,” he said again.

  Her gaze didn’t waver, but he thought he saw a look of sad resignation come into her eyes. It bothered him because he didn’t know what he had done to put it there.

  “Okay,” she finally said.

  Okay? What the hell did that mean? “Okay what? That I love you?”

  “Sure.” Pushing past him, she walked across the room and opened the door. In the doorway she stopped and turned back. There was challenge in her smile and devilment in her eyes. “You do know how to do this sober, don’t you?”

  He did. And excellently so, even if he said so himself. It was something a man never forgot, since it was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before he went to sleep ... and most of the time in between. He looked forward to showing her how much better he was at it sober.

  “How do you expect to do this with that bad leg?” she asked a moment later when he slid under the covers beside her.

  “Oh, I’ll manage. Besides, that’s not the leg I plan on using.”

  “Don’t be crass.” But he heard the laughter under the reprimand. Then the way her breathing changed when he loosened the tiny bows holding her gown closed.

  “Ah, there you are, my beauties,” he murmured, pushing the flannel aside so he could kiss one soft, warm mound, then the other. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Are you talking to my breasts?”

  He looked up with a sheepish grin. “I know I’m not supposed to notice them, but they’re so round and jiggly and—”

  “Who said you couldn’t notice them?”

  “My brothers.” Bending his head, he returned to his task. “They said women didn’t like it when—Ow!” he muttered when she bolted upright so unexpectedly her shoulder cracked his nose.

  “You discussed my breasts with your brothers?”

  He blinked at her through watery eyes. “Not discussed ... exactly.”

  “Then what exactly did you say to them?”

  Lifting his fingers to his nose, he felt for blood and was surprised to find none. “Remember the night you came to the ranch and I accidentally looked at your ... em, chest, and you hit me for it?”

  “I hit you,” she reminded him in an unfriendly tone, “because you didn’t remember who I was until you looked at my ... em ... chest.”

  “But I did remember you,” he defended.

  “And accidentally? How do you accidentally look at a woman’s breasts?”

  It happened all the time, but he didn’t mention that. “My brothers said I shouldn’t ogle.” Like that would stop him.

  “They were right.”

  He didn’t debate that either.

  She flopped back with a labored sigh. “I just wish when God was passing out parts, He’d given the breasts to men. The world would be a lot simpler.”

  But not as much fun. “If he had,” he quipped in an effort to put things back on a friendly track, “nothing would ever get done. We’d still be sitting under the ole apple tree fiddling with them and having a grand time.” He grinned.

  She scowled back.

  “That was a joke, of course,” he lied. “Now where were we? Oh, yeah. I was about to do this.” And before she could start another argument, he ducked down under the covers and commenced doing what he did best. And with grand results, judging by Daisy’s reaction. She was panting like a racehorse when he finally came up for air. “You’re right. This may be too much for my leg.”

  “W-What?” She lifted her head off the pillows to stare dazedly at him. “Really? You’re sure?” Was that disappointment in her voice?

  “Here’s an idea,” he said as if suddenly inspired. “If you were on top, it probably wouldn’t bother me as much.” He pulled her closer.

  She rolled away. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’ll be fine. Not to worry.”

  “But, still, I—”

  “Damnit woman,” he cut in, trying to sound severe but ruining it by laughing. “Will you just shut up and climb on.”

  She did, and it was a wonderment.

  WITH A SIGH, DAISY SMILED UP AT THE CEILING AS THE first glow of dawn tinted the exposed beams a soft pastel pink. What a night. What a lovely, astounding, exhausting night.

  She should have regrets, but she didn’t. When she and Jack parted this time, it would not be in anger or panic or drunken confusion. And the memories they would carry away with them would not be shameful or despairing. She had made the choice to bed the man she loved, and she was glad she had. Oddly, sharing these beautiful hours together seemed to make the prospect of leaving him a little easier. Like closing the back cover on a good book, or finishing a satisfying meal, or hearing the last notes of an exquisite aria. Tonight was a perfect memory and it would linger in that perfection forever.

  Oh God. Who was she trying to fool? It would kill her to leave.

  But it was over. Finished. The night was done.

  Turning to the window, Daisy saw the light was growing stronger. Beyond those pink-tinted panes, life was awakening to the day. But inside the house, all was quiet except for the soft snores of the man sprawled on the bed beside her.

  She breathed deep, filling her mind with the scents and sounds and memories of their lovemaking. Memories sent heat into her face. The man had played her like a lute, orchestrating her every response until she arched beneath him, gasping and shivery with delight. He could make music with those hands.

  She glanced over at him.

  He had made a shambles of the covers; Jack, in sleep, was as full of life and energy and vitality as he was when awake. But he should be tired now, since he hadn’t slept that much during the night. He wouldn’t notice if she left.

  Quietly pushing back the covers, she rose and retrieved her gown from the floor. As she was tying the bows down the front, restless movement on the bed told her Jack was awake. Turning, she found him smiling sleepily at her.

  “Don’t go,” he said in a gravelly morning voice. “It’s early yet.”

  Reaching up, she pushed loose hair out of her face, aware of the way the action drew his attention to her breasts. The breasts that had once embarrassed her and she had tried to hide. The breasts that now tingled under his gaze, as if he were actually touching her and not just looking. Amazing how he did that.

  “You and Elena will be leaving in a couple of hours,” she reminded him. “It’ll be a long day. You should rest while you can.”

  “I don’t want to rest. Come here.”

  Jack had always been especially amorous in the morning. In the past, she had thought it was because by morning he had finally sobered up enough to appreciate what he was doing. But seeing that familiar look in his eyes now, she realized it was more of a personal preference. Not that she minded. But today was going to be one of the most difficult of her life, and every moment she spent in Jack’s arms would only make it worse.

  Thank God he was departing first. She didn’t think she would have had the strength to be the one to leave him.

  “Go back to sleep,” she said, bending down to give him a kiss, then laughing and moving out of reach as he made a grab for her breasts. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Damn right,” he muttered, his eyes drifting closed.

  Daisy didn’t bathe right away, afraid the knocking of the pipes would awaken the house. Instead, she forced herself to write the letter she had left unfinished the night before when she had thought she might simply tell Jack everything.

  She was glad she hadn’t. Although a letter was more cowardly, it was easier, and Daisy hadn’t the conviction or will to say this to his face.

  She told him everything, even how broken she had been when he’
d left her before. She wrote that no matter how much he might want to stay with them, she feared his drive to keep moving would eventually pull him away. She understood that and didn’t blame him for it. She explained about the dream she had cherished for most of her life, and how because of Madame Scarlatti and the money Jack had so generously given her, she now had a chance to make it come true. She added that if he still wanted them after her training was complete in two years, he could contact her through Mr. Peter Markham of the Elysium Theater. And finally, she wrote that she cared for him with all her heart, and would always treasure their time together and think fondly of him. She closed with the promise that even if they never saw him again, she would make certain Kate remembered him as the father who loved her so much he almost gave his life to keep her safe.

  Then with trembling hands, she folded the letter away, curled into a ball, and wept until Kate awoke and called for her.

  Twenty-four

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE’S GONE FOREVER,” JESSICA SAID.

  “I know.” Brady thought he’d prepared himself, but the finality of seeing Jack and Elena’s buggy pass under the high arched gate was like a blow to his chest.

  Was it really forever?

  He couldn’t fathom it. Elena had been a part of his life for so long he couldn’t imagine never seeing her again. But if that’s what she wanted ...

  Beside him, Jessica gave a wobbly sigh. “First the horses, now Elena, and soon Daisy and Kate. I feel as if my family is breaking apart.”

  Her grip on his hand was so tight Brady’s fingers tingled. “It’s not.” Leaning down, he pressed his lips against her temple, drawing in the flowery scent that was his wife’s alone. It calmed him. Just having her within reach restored his balance. Even as he straightened to watch the buggy roll over the last rise and out of sight, some of the emptiness of Elena’s leaving was already fading.

  “Families have to spread to grow,” he told her. “We can’t keep everything the same forever.”