Anne moved in closer. "She's resting, but conscious."
Cole's weary muscles relaxed at his ma's words.
"It's time you went to bed."
About to protest, Cole noticed the determined glint in his ma's eyes, and decided not to argue. He was exhausted.
"Thanks, Ma. You've been great." Cole kissed her on the cheek and exited the room.
Moments later he sat on his bed. He tugged, with minimal success, at one stubborn boot. He managed to get it half way off before he slumped sideways. His head hung off one end of his bed, his feet off the other. He fell into an exhausted sleep. His last thoughts were of Meagan. Her blonde hair took on a red hue.
CHAPTER TWO
Meagan tossed restlessly in her sleep, disturbed by unwanted images. Images of Cole's arms around her, his warm breath like a gentle caress on her cheek as his deep voice soothed her, his strong hands against her bare flesh. She turned on her side and fluffed her pillow under her head. Soft, silken sheets bunched around her as memories of her childhood passed through her mind.
She was thirteen, almost fourteen and she'd gone to live with her pa on the McAllister ranch. Her pa had been hired as foreman of a breeding operation on the southeast section of the ranch, and Cole and Stephen were there to help her and pa get settled.
The two brothers built their stables, a corral and a small bunkhouse. They put up fences, even added a second room to pa's cabin, for her. She worshipped the ground they walked on. Identical twins, their differences were subtle, but obvious to Meagan.
They both had thick, black hair and deep blue eyes. Both were tall, muscular. But Cole's hair curled up at the ends whenever it got damp, and a small dimple peeked at you from his left cheek when he smiled. Nothing made Meagan's heart beat faster than when Cole flashed her one of those rare, gorgeous smiles.
Cole walked with an air of confidence, his head high, and his stride long and fast. He seemed to know what he wanted from life and wasn't afraid to go after it. He never wasted time on extra words. Meagan never minded filling in the quiet times with constant chatter.
But best of all were those few, precious times when Cole looked at her. Not with that tolerant, patient glance he usually cast her way, but like she mattered. It turned her heart to butter.
She loved him. With all her heart and soul she prayed he would someday think of her as a woman. It was a lot to ask, for she wasn't quite fourteen and he was a grown man of twenty-two. She'd tried to appear older, so he'd notice her.
She followed him wherever he went, asking intelligent, adult questions. She changed her hair from pigtails to loose strands tied back with ribbons. She even read every word in the book papa kept on his shelf, the one she was forbidden to read, to find out how to become a lady. Problem was, she couldn't understand most of what she read, and what she did understand didn't seem to work at all.
She saved money for months to purchase rouge, but the clerk at the mercantile refused to sell it to her without her pa's permission. Undaunted, she plucked a petal from a wild red rose and rubbed it hard against her cheeks. Cole grinned at her antics and teased her for days. Her pa gave her an hour long lecture on the joys of youth and the disadvantages of trying to grow up before her time.
Next, she tried lowering the neckline of her dress, as it showed in the book, but the darn thing would fall off her shoulders every time she moved. Cole laughed, then mentioned a good seamstress in town. Meagan never went, and Cole continued to treat her like a child.
Stephen noticed her. He listened to her and even complimented her that first day she'd changed her hair. But a thousand compliments from Stephen couldn't match a single smile from Cole.
Her fourteenth birthday arrived, and she'd invited both brothers to her party. She wore a brand new lemon yellow dress with smooth lines, a square neckline, tucked waist and sleeves that gathered in a puff just below the elbow. It was her first full length dress. It was a dress made for a woman. She was so excited to see Cole's reaction that she slipped it on and rushed outside. He was in the stables, preoccupied with a mare about to foal. As usual, he paid her little attention.
Meagan flipped on her back as the memories of her birthday resurfaced. She tried to rid herself of the images, but they remained, vivid and painful. She recalled every word, every detail of that day as if it were yesterday.
She had approached Cole, her stomach knotted in excitement. "Cole, are you coming to my party?"
"I'll be there." He didn't even spare her a glance as he answered.
Meagan moved in closer. "Look at the new dress papa bought me. Isn't it divine?" She posed for him in what she thought to be a very grownup manner.
Cole glanced up. His expression changed from tolerant amusement to bitter anguish as his pain filled eyes traveled up her body. His cold, hard stare frightened her, and without a word he rushed past her.
Meagan watched, stunned, as he mounted his horse. She ran toward him, desperate to stop him. "Cole, where are you going? What about my party?"
Cole didn't look at her. He spoke in a harsh, raw voice. "I can't come to your party, Meagan."
Meagan's knees shook. She couldn't help the waver in her voice as she pleaded, "Why not? Did I do something wrong?"
He towered above her, his eyes haunted, distant, staring straight ahead. "You're a child, Meagan." His words seemed strained, forced from his lips. "I'm too old to go to birthday parties."
Meagan planted herself in front of his horse. The sting of tears threatened to humiliate her but she refused to turn away. "You said you would come. Stephen's the same age as you and he's coming."
Cole covered his eyes with the palm of his hand and rubbed his temple. "You don't need me there, Meagan."
"I want you there," Meagan confessed in a broken whisper.
Cole shifted his gaze toward her. His expression changed. She’d never seen such intensity before. It scared her.
"You never wanted me," he spat out.
Meagan froze. He wasn’t really looking at her, yet she felt the pain of his icy stare as if he’d slapped her.
His eyes darkened. "I trusted you with my heart. You betrayed me."
"I didn't do anything," Meagan protested with a sob.
"Liar. Why can't you at least tell me the truth. I deserve the truth."
He'd never frightened her before, but fear curdled within Meagan as Cole's icy blue eyes flashed hatred her way. She couldn't speak.
"I know who you are." He spit at the ground. "I know what you are."
"Cole, please don't," Meagan begged. She wanted to run away but couldn't make her legs cooperate.
"You think you can destroy me? My family?"
Tears fell down her cheeks, but Meagan didn't care. "I'd never hurt you, Cole." She stared at a man she didn't recognize. "I love you," she admitted brokenly .
"You don't love me. You used me. You, and your father."
"No." Meagan sunk to her knees as deep, guttural sobs escaped from her lips. She didn't understand any of this. "No, no, no." She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. "I love you. Truly I do." She couldn't stop the tears, had no desire to stop the tears. She heard the sound of his stallion’s hoofs against the hard ground as he rode away. She didn't look up until he was gone. He never returned.
Meagan woke, surprised to feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks. She hadn't dreamed of Cole in years. In fact, she’d done all she could to never allow herself to think about him at all.
Her heartbeat quickened when she realized she wasn't in her own bed. She studied the foreign room with a sense of foreboding. There were only the necessary furnishings, a bed, dresser, rocker, night table and lamp. But it was as different from her room as night was from day. Her furniture was hand crafted, sturdy, no frills, no womanly touch. Living alone with her pa, she hadn't had the time or the inclination to worry about such trivial matters.
Here, delicate shades of pink and gray surrounded her. An elegant black walnut, marble topped dresser with a large mirror occupi
ed one wall. A pink cushioned rocker with carved oak spindles sat in one corner, the lamp beside it boasted a shade covered in a fabric that matched the fine detailing of pink roses, edged with silver on the cotton draperies that adorned a small glass window on the wall opposite her bed. A delicate ivory china pitcher and glass set occupied the top of a small lace topped table near her bed.
Meagan pulled the covers to her chin, hugging them against her in an effort to hide from her troubled thoughts. She was in the McAllister's home. Proof of that surrounded her. It was the last place she wanted to be.
Meagan's pulse quickened. Every aspect of her life revolved around Cole and his family. If she told Cole about her pa's death, he'd have no reason to allow her to stay on their land. She'd done her pa's work for three months and collected her pa's pay as if he were still alive. She had hoped to earn enough to make a fresh start for herself, but all her money had been destroyed in the fire. She had nothing left.
Meagan felt her stomach churn with anxiety as she considered her predicament. If she didn't leave, she'd have to face the McAllister's with her lie. Up to now, though she'd evaded telling the truth, she hadn't lied. It made her a bit queasy, the thought of lying to them. Especially Stephen, a man she considered her friend.
Meagan contemplated her options as she glanced toward the window. The sun was low in the sky. It was early. She could probably sneak off the ranch and be long gone before anyone realized she'd left. She sat up, wincing at the dull pain in her side. She placed her hand against her ribs and managed to stand. She grabbed the spokes of the headboard for support and gasped as a deep, burning sensation climbed through her fingers and spread across the palm of her hand. She glanced down. Her hand was covered with bandages. She felt lightheaded, dizzy. Worried her legs would no longer support her, she sat on the edge of the bed and shut her eyes. Several seconds passed before the dizziness ebbed, leaving her weak and shaken.
Her head began to throb. She touched a fingertip to her temple and couldn't control a wince of pain as she made contact with a large lump. Her left ankle throbbed, her thigh was sore and sensitive, her back stiff. It seemed there wasn't a part on her body that didn't hurt.
She'd fallen off a horse more times than she'd like to recall, been kicked by an ornery bull, nearly trampled in a stampede, and almost drowned saving a calf who'd wandered too far from his mother and ended up in the river. Nothing compared to this.
She struggled to think past her headache and recall the events as they occurred the morning of the fire. She'd risen early to check on a newborn calf. She hadn't been away from her cabin more than ten or fifteen minutes. When she returned, her home had been engulfed in flames, with Bessie, her dog, trapped inside. After that, everything blended together into a mass of confused memories.
Cole had been there, and Stephen too, she thought. She'd fought Cole in an effort to save Bessie. Had she succeeded? She couldn't remember. Nothing was clear.
Meagan sank into bed and allowed the silky softness of the sheets to surround her, comfort her. She relaxed against the pillow and closed her eyes. She was too tired to leave just yet.
Besides, if she left, where would she go? Her entire fortune was now a single coin, which she kept hidden in the toe of her right boot. Only, right now, she didn't even know where her boots were.
Before a wave of self-pity could completely overwhelm her, there was a knock on her door. A cold knot of dread formed in her stomach as she watched the door open.
"Meagan?"
She recognized Stephen's voice and relaxed as the door opened wider. It had been nearly six months since Stephen had visited her, and she'd missed him. He seemed little enough of a threat right this minute.
"May I come in?"
Meagan nodded. Stephen threw the door wide and ambled in, an easy grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Following on his heels, was Cole.
Meagan's smile faded the instant she saw Cole. She turned away, unwilling to acknowledge him. He had no right to be here.
"Meagan, turn around," Stephen coaxed, his voice only inches from her ear.
Meagan shook her head.
Stephen's tone softened. "How are you feeling?"
Like disappearing under the covers, away from Cole, she thought, but replied dutifully, "I'm okay."
"Can I come over there and sit?"
Meagan moved enough to allow Stephen room, careful to keep her back to Cole. It didn't help. She could feel his presence in the room as if it were only the two of them. Stephen sat beside her and gathered her bandaged hand in his.
"You gave us a real scare yesterday."
Meagan wondered if Cole had been as frightened as Stephen. "I know."
"I've missed you."
Meagan placed her head against his arm. "Me too." She forced a smile. "How’s your ma and pa?"
"They're fine." He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Ma will be in later with breakfast."
Anne McAllister had accompanied Judd on several visits to their cabin. Meagan liked her. "I'll look forward to seeing her."
Stephen nodded. "She wanted you to know that Bethany has some spare clothes in the closet you can wear once you're feeling better."
Meagan heard Cole's feet against the floor. He sounded closer than before.
Stephen's fingertips played with the sleeve of her nightdress. "This is one of Bethany's."
Meagan glanced down at the pretty peach cotton nightdress. She'd never met Bethany, who'd moved away several years before she'd come to live with her pa. It felt odd to accept Bethany's clothes without her permission. "Are you sure Bethany won't mind?"
Meagan focused on Stephen, but it was Cole who answered. "Bethany won't mind."
Shivers darted up Meagan's spine as Cole's deep, smooth voice penetrated her senses. She didn't turn to face him. "I guess I lost everything." It wasn't a question. She'd been a witness to the destruction first hand.
Stephen touched her cheek. "I thought, for a minute, we were going to lose you, as well."
Meagan trembled as she pictured the flames dancing up her skirt. "I did, too."
"It was foolish of you to go back in after Bessie," Stephen scolded.
Meagan ignored Cole's grunt of agreement. "Bessie, is she okay?"
Stephen nodded. "I got her out."
Relief overwhelmed Meagan. She raised her hand and placed her palm against Stephen's cheek. "Thank you, Stephen. You know how much Bessie means to me."
Stephen clasped her hand against his face. "I know."
Meagan scooted forward and hugged him. She needed to feel the comfort of his arms around her. He'd always been there for her. He was the one McAllister she could rely on.
"Hey now," Stephen smiled, "you're soaking me."
Meagan brushed the back of her hand across her nose to stifle a sniffle. Cole cleared his throat. Meagan twisted to face Cole. She felt her heartbeat quicken under his intent stare. "Cole, it's been a long time."
Cole moved in closer. "You've changed."
"I imagine so." She'd grown up, and Cole hadn't been there to see her do it. She watched as he shuffled his boots against the floor. He appeared tense, restless, as if any minute he might flee from the room, away from her. He began to pace back and forth. His tight jeans emphasized the strength of his thighs as each step brought forth small bulges of flexed muscle. His eyes collided with hers, and Meagan felt her face flush with heat. She turned away.
"Cole saved your life, Meagan."
"No." Meagan gave a sharp toss of her head. She didn't want to hear Stephen's words.
"Yes." Stephen raised his voice. "If it weren't for Cole you would have been trapped inside the cabin."
Flashes of Cole chasing her, pulling her from the flames, rolling with her, they all jumbled in her mind. Was it true? Did she owe Cole her life? "Are you sure I couldn't have gotten out on my own?"
"What!" Cole's voice bellowed through the room.
"I only meant," Meagan defended as she faced him, "that I don't recall being tr
apped."
Cole's eyes bore straight into her. "If that bruise on your thigh is any indication, I'd say you were stuck, and stuck good."
Meagan felt her face flush with color. "How do you know about that bruise?"
He shrugged. "I was with you during the doctor's examination."
Meagan stiffened. "How dare you!"
Cole advanced toward her. "Meagan, you were hurt. I wanted to help."
Meagan shied away from him. Stephen's hands clasped her shoulders.
"Stay away from me,"
Anger blazed like blue ice in Cole's eyes. "If you hadn't been foolish enough to go back into that cabin, you'd never have gotten trapped in the first place."
"If you hadn't detained me," she pointed out, "I might have reached Bessie before that log ever fell."
Cole looked ready to strangle her. Meagan raised her chin a notch, her defiant glare intended to challenge him. She wanted to fight. She wanted to sink her claws deep into his skin and watch him suffer, like he'd made her suffer all these years.
He took two steps toward her.
She stiffened, ready for him.
He paused, his face studying hers. The lines vanished from his face as his expression calmed. He ran long, slender fingers through his hair. It stuck up in the front. Meagan felt the familiar need to reach up and smooth it.
"Meagan, do you have any idea how that fire started?"
Caught unaware by his abrupt change of subject, Meagan took several seconds to compose herself. She shook her head.
"Was there anyone hanging around your place? Someone who didn't belong?"
"No." Meagan shrugged. "No one but my brother, and he was gone by the time I woke up."
Cole's gaze darted from her to Stephen. "Your brother?"
Stephen stood, his expression blank as he shrugged his shoulders. "I never knew Meagan had a brother."
Meagan clasped the locket that dangled from a chain around her neck and studied it. It appeared unharmed by the fire. It held her mother's picture, the same picture her brother carried. It was the only keepsake she had of a mother she'd never known.
"I didn't know he existed myself, until he showed up four months ago. Apparently Ma was married when she met Pa, and she had Tony." Meagan refused to show any shame. Her pa had loved her ma with all his heart, and hadn't discovered she belonged to another until it was too late.
Deanna Tompkins Page 3