Graceful.
She reminded Kendra of her grandmother. A true lady.
A mournful squeak, like from an old movie, told Kendra that the front door opened. She glanced over her shoulder and straightened when she saw Margaret and Linda exit the house. She strode toward them, not sure what she could say, or if she should say anything.
Guilt rode hard on her back, and she forced herself to meet their moist eyes.
“Kenny,” Margaret whispered, reaching toward her with one unsteady hand. “Thank you.”
Thank you? She didn’t know how to respond. Instead, she took her friend’s mother’s hand and helped her down the steps. Then she turned her over to her husband.
Linda sucked in a deep, quivering breath as she passed Kendra, but she suspected that the young woman received very little life from the automatic function. When Kendra’s parents had died, she hadn’t breathed for a full year. Not really. If it hadn’t been for the babies, she might not have ever breathed again.
Another set of footsteps came down the creaking stairs. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was Michelle. Her honeysuckle scent enveloped her. She closed her eyes for a moment and let it.
The Bastion family climbed into their pickups and followed the ambulance down the dusty drive. The cops followed. Brent and his date went up to his place over the barn. Brad went back into the house, his expression pale; his eyes red. The kid probably couldn’t remember a time that Kennedy hadn’t been hanging around. Soon the courtyard stood hollow. Empty. Quiet.
The ranch seemed to hold its breath.
“Are you alright?” Michelle’s voice resonated with concern. Kendra could feel Michelle reaching out to her as clear as if she touched her. Kendra’s muscles tightened.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you.” Michelle took a step toward her.
Kendra turned to face Michelle in the drive. She’d pulled her hair back again, revealing full cheeks and a determined chin. Michelle shivered and Kendra didn’t know if it came from the morning chill or her scrutiny.
“Why? Why don’t you believe me?”
“You’re human, aren’t you? You’re a woman. It’s been a long, shitty night, and you haven’t slept. You’ve lost someone close to you, on your watch. You can’t possibly be alright.”
“Then why did you ask?” Kendra couldn’t help the small, wan grin that parted her lips.
Michelle shrugged. “It is a silly question, I suppose, under the circumstances.”
If Kendra wasn’t careful, she’d begin to feel again. She braced herself against the temptation to let herself go. She couldn’t afford it. Too many people depended on her to be strong; to always be in control. She couldn’t let them down.
“Life’s a bitch, Miss Loving.”
“I don’t believe that, either. And I don’t believe you believe it. It’s okay to—”
“Okay to what? It’s okay that I let a boy die? It’s okay that I can’t even keep my own people safe? Is it okay that some rich son-of-a-bitch is stealing my ranch, my family’s home, right out from under me? Is it?”
“You’re upset, Kendra.” She touched Kendra’s arm.
Comfort threatened to steal her defenses. Michelle’s warmth and strength flowed into her and she cringed against the temptation to let her be the strong one. Michelle stepped closer.
Yes, she was upset, all right. Michelle upset her. She made her think of things better left alone. Worse, she made her think of herself. Didn’t she deserve some measure of happiness after all these years?
Kendra turned her body into Michelle’s. She was right there. Right in front of her. She could take her in her arms and allow herself to feel. Just this once.
Confusion settled in her mind, and she could feel her eyes begin to narrow of their own accord. She’d just met Michelle. Two days ago, she couldn’t stand the thought of her being here. Yesterday, her very presence made her angry. Now, Michelle just made her weak. Michelle’s strength seemed to outweigh her own; to feed from hers.
Michelle’s eyes searched hers and Kendra knew she was trying to reach her – to find some life somewhere deep inside. She shouldn’t. She wouldn’t like what she found.
A wisp of curly blonde hair rested on Michelle’s shoulder.
Lifting one hand, Kendra brushed it away. Michelle trembled. Short, hesitant breaths made Michelle’s chest rise and fall beneath her thin cotton top. Kendra’s body mimicked hers.
Kiss her.
Michelle’s tongue darted from between her lips, moistening them. Kendra’s entire body moaned with wanting. She couldn’t move. Michelle held her captive with just her eyes and the gentle pressure of her fingers as they stroked her arm.
“It’s OK,” Michelle whispered. She moved her hand to stroke Kendra’s jaw and smiled. “Everything will be fine.”
“How?” Kendra choked on the word.
Michelle shrugged and turned away. “Have faith.”
With both hands, Kendra gripped Michelle’s shoulders and turned her back to face her. “I don’t have any more faith.”
In the next instant, her lips crushed against Michelle’s. Frantic, she drew all of the strength she could from her. Her hands moved to Michelle’s back and when Michelle’s hands did the same, Kendra nearly burst. Michelle tasted of life and joy. Her hands roamed over Kendra’s back, urging her closer. Kendra ignored any lingering doubt and let herself feel.
She ignored the part of herself that would balk and pulled Michelle closer. The peaks of her breasts pushed against her own. Running her tongue over Michelle’s lips, she begged entrance. She wanted to consume her. She needed it.
Just this once.
When Michelle parted her soft, full lips, Kendra’s mind exploded in a riot of sun-washed color. Michelle moaned and Kendra caught the sound in her throat. Moist heat consumed those places ignored for so long. Her entire being throbbed and pulsed. She wanted to be inside Michelle, wrapped tightly in an embrace that would last forever. She could already feel Michelle around her, giving her so much more than she took.
She barely knew her, but she knew that much.
What did she taste like? There...? What would she feel like in her most sensitive places? Silky. Smooth. Warm and pulsing...
Wet.
Kendra would never just take from her. Michelle Loving possessed an honest, pure soul. Nothing about her was tainted. She still believed...
She deserved better.
Kendra pushed her away. Breathless, her chest heaved and her heart beat like a jack-hammer. Wide eyes met her gaze. Confusion played over Michelle’s parted lips as they moved like she wanted it to say something, but couldn’t find the words.
Kendra backed up a step. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Michelle’s eyes narrowed for a brief second. She squared her shoulders. “Like I said. You’re upset.”
“That doesn’t excuse my behavior.” Kendra brushed one hand through her hair and forced herself to turn away.
“It’s OK. Really…”
Her words died in the approaching roar of a half dozen riders.
Crap.
Had they seen?
Michelle stepped back when Kendra’s attention focused over her shoulder. She turned to find six men on horseback racing into the compound. They looked like something out of the Wild West. Cowboy hats, leather vests and chaps, even the horses they rode seemed to be made from something untamed. Dust covered them as if they’d ridden hard and their horses were flecked with white lather.
A lanky cowboy with dark hair past his shoulders dismounted a black horse, tossed his reins to one of his five companions and jogged across the courtyard. Michelle recognized him as one of the men she’d met the day before, on her tour of the ranch. Of course, he’d been downright jovial then. He seemed far more serious now. “Kendra? We found something.”
“What is it?”
Michelle felt invisible. All of Kendra’s energy, focus
ed on her a moment ago, drifted away until she couldn’t be sure it had ever existed. Only the tingle left in her lips told her anything had happened.
Kendra had kissed her. Michelle’s fingertips touched her lips.
And Michelle had kissed her back. What was wrong with her? She had only just met Kendra. Still, the warmth had surrounded her like a blanket; comforting in its protection. When Kendra held her, nothing could harm her. Her aura exuded trust and determined pride. And lonely confidence.
Kendra’s voice carried over the several feet separating them and brought her back to the moment. “This is an arrow, Carlos.”
“I know that, boss. We found eight of them. Someone shot the herd with these, last night. That stampede was deliberate.”
Kendra’s neck turned red. Michelle stepped closer, though she didn’t know why. She couldn’t be of any help. She just needed to be near Kendra.
Kendra held a broken arrow in her strong, tapered fingers. Only the shaft and feathers remained where someone had apparently cut it close to where the tip should have been. The hollow metal crimped in a hard line. The blunt tip held traces of blood.
Michelle ran her hand over Kendra’s arm and felt the muscles bunch beneath her fingers. Kendra didn’t acknowledge her, but she didn’t pull away. The man, Carlos, seemed to notice her for the first time. He nodded and tipped the brim of his hat. “Good morning, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
She smiled and dropped her hand.
“How’s your work coming along?” He was being polite. It was obvious in his speech. Were all of the people associated with the ranch trained on how to treat a lady? She felt like a school marm in a western novel.
The concept of using the Internet to fight Harold Mason, however, suddenly seemed naive, at best. She shrugged and folded her arms. “I’m feeling more than a little useless right at the moment. I imagine you and your men are hungry?”
Carlos looked at Kendra in silence. Kendra stared at the arrow shaft, twisting it through her fingers as if it contained the answer to some question only she knew. Then she nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. We could eat.”
Michelle almost shook her head. Did Kendra have the final say so about everything on the ranch? When people ate. When people slept. When people worked.
When people kissed.
“All right, then. I’ll make some breakfast for everyone. I hope you like scrambled eggs, because that’s pretty much the extent of my culinary expertise.”
“That’ll be just fine, ma’am.”
“Michelle, please. You can call me Michelle.”
Carlos strode back to where the rest of the cowboys tended the horses. Michelle rocked back on her heels and hugged herself against the sudden tension in the air. She peeked at Kendra, standing beside her with her head still bent over the arrow. Instead of examining it now, she seemed to consume it with her eyes. Her white-knuckled grip almost bent the metal.
“What does all this mean, Kendra?”
“Mason wasn’t doing enough damage by just killing my livestock. He spooked the herd last night. Deliberately. He killed Ken Bastian.”
“How can you be sure it was him?”
“Who else would it be?”
Michelle heard the rage in Kendra’s voice, felt it in the tightly reined tremble of her shoulders.
“There’s nothing you can do right now. Let’s go inside and have something to eat. You need to get some rest and we’ll call your friend, the sheriff.”
Kendra snorted. “For all the good that will do.”
Michelle made her way into the house. Kendra followed behind her, so close that she could feel her warmth and hear her quiet breaths. Her skin tingled in remembered sensation. When they reached the foyer, Kendra touched Michelle’s shoulder and she froze.
“Miss Loving. About before…”
Michelle stared straight ahead and then closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to turn around, to look at Kendra. “Yes?”
“I am sorry.”
Brad clumped down the stairs, his boots echoing in the small space. “Sorry for what?”
Kendra cleared her throat. “Nothing, kid.”
Then she was gone. Michelle turned around just as the front door slammed shut. She sighed. The poor gal couldn’t catch a break if her life depended on it.
“Was it something I said?” Brad stared after his sister. No, Kendra would be more like his mother, really.
“No, Hon. She’s just still upset about last night. Did you manage to get any sleep?”
“No. Not really. But I have to go to school, anyway.”
“Can’t you take even one day off?”
“Nope. It’s only a week until finals. I have to go.”
Michelle walked with Brad into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “I’m making breakfast. Would you like some eggs?”
“Cereal is fine for me. I need to hit the road.”
“Did you know Ken Bastian?”
“Oh, yeah. Gosh, he started working here when he was about fourteen or so. I guess I must’ve been about ten. It’s a small town. Pretty much everybody knows everybody, or knows somebody who knows ‘em. Believe me; it’s not easy keeping a secret around here.”
Michelle clutched an egg in one hand and leaned against the counter. “I’m really sorry.”
Brad shrugged. She could see a lot of Kendra in her youngest brother. The same attitude carried on strong shoulders; I can do anything. I don’t need anyone.
Michelle mixed a dozen eggs in a bowl and then added a splash of milk and a few drops of vanilla extract before turning her attention to the stove. The ancient appliance looked like something her grandmother would have used and she estimated its installation date around the turn of the last century. She bent low and searched for any sign of how to turn it on.
A match struck behind her. A small, weather-worn hand circled around her, a single wooden match gripped between two fingers. She recognized the slender, tapered fingers instantly. Sweat broke out on her forehead when she remembered the feel of them on her back, in her hair.
Kendra’s arm circled her back, trapping her between warm body and cold stove. With the palm of her hand, Kendra twisted the far-right knob and then set the small flame of a wooden match to the front-right burner. Kendra lifted the match to her lips and blew out the flame. The burner burst to life.
So did Michelle. She placed the pan over the flame and scooped a tablespoon of butter onto the cast-iron surface. It began to melt almost at once. Kendra’s body pressed against hers, searing her where they touched. Her hot breath disturbed the tiny hair’s on Michelle’s neck, sending shivers across her sensitive flesh.
“They kicked me out of the barn,” she stated.
Michelle faced her. “Did they?”
Michelle’s eyes focused on her lips. Full and sensuous, they called to her like nothing she’d ever experienced. Soft and powerful, she could still taste them.
“Do you need any help?”
Michelle blinked and felt heat suffuse her cheeks. “What?” Oh... um... no. I think I’m okay.”
Liar.
Michelle placed a couple of pats of butter in the bottom of the pan. The butter began to melt immediately, as though it didn’t stand a chance between the heat of the stove and the heat radiating off Michelle’s body.
“I’m going to take a shower, then.”
Michelle swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Okay.”
Kendra didn’t move. Less than an inch separated their bodies. Michelle didn’t move, either.
“Butter’s burnin’,” said Brad around a mouthful of kid’s crunch cereal.
Michelle grabbed the handle of the old-fashioned cast-iron pan and then screamed. “Damn!”
The heavy metal had burned her hand. Hadn’t these people ever heard of Teflon?
Tears stung her eyes as she sucked on the tip of three fingers. Kendra’s fingers, warm and strong, pulled her hand away from her mouth. She dragged Michelle toward the sink
and turned on the faucet. There, she held her fingers and palm beneath a steady stream of cold water and shook her head.
“I hope you’re better at designing websites than you are at making eggs,” Kendra teased.
It was her fault that Michelle had lost track of herself. How long had they been standing there, staring at each other, for the pan to get so damned hot? But she didn’t say anything to Kendra, fearing that any suggestive ideas might frighten her away. Of course, Kendra probably had no earthly idea what she was doing to Michelle.
The water offered some relief, but her fingers still throbbed. Small blisters formed on the pads. “No question about it,” she managed to reply.
A hint of a smile curved the corners of Kendra’s mouth. “Good.”
“I can cook. I’m just used to twenty-first century implements. You know, things like pans with handles that don’t get hot? Microwaves.” Did you know that you don’t have a microwave?”
Kendra nodded. “Yep. Don’t need one.”
“How do you make pop-corn?”
Kendra Chuckled. The sound wove through her like a heavy liqueur and made her knees just as weak. “We don’t make it very often, but when we do, we use cooking oil and kernels. Simple. You just have to keep shaking the pot.”
Michelle wanted to roll her eyes, but the description seemed to fit Kendra so well. Everything about Kendra screamed of the past. Her carriage and her mannerisms, even her build, looked ancient and wise. Masculine and feminine at the same time. Broad shoulders holding up a warm, sensitive heart.
Suddenly, Michelle felt out of her own time and place. She was the one who lived in the wrong century, not Kendra.
Loving the Heartland Page 8