“Or both,” added Michelle.
“Who would want to do both? Seriously. If you have the opportunity to have one full time job, why in God’s name would you voluntarily choose two? No, being a homemaker is an honorable and rewarding career choice all by itself.”
Michelle snorted. “One my mother never made.”
“Your mom wasn’t devoted?” Kendra frowned. Her own mother, in spite of her love for the rodeo and the way she helped her father on the ranch, was a dedicated and proud wife and mother. Her family came first. Her husband and her children. The ranch was her husband’s job and she helped during the roundups and such, but otherwise... Mom was mom.
“Well, not how you mean. She had plenty of things to keep her busy outside of the house. Things that made her feel... worthwhile.”
“Raising children is worthwhile.”
Michelle scowled and then sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” Kendra replied, smiling.
“Did you know that Lacey wants to be a reporter? She’s already applied for internships at the affiliate stations in Las Vegas and Reno. And she’s doing really well in school. She has as much chance of making it as anyone, I think.” Michelle’s words rushed together as if she were defending the entire female gender. Even on the tail end of a political rant, she looked more charming than ferocious.
“I know that, too.” Kendra bit into a pickle.
“You’re teasing me now, I think.”
“Yep.” The deep crease in her forehead smoothed. “Well, it really is good chicken.”
A strong gust of wind passed over them. Michelle’s plate tumbled out of her hand and landed a few feet away. She gasped and tossed herself after it. “Holy cow! Where did that come from?”
She caught the plate while Kendra grabbed several items that had been tossed by the burst.
Another downdraft made Michelle plant her hand on top of her hat. “What’s that sound?”
Kendra listened. Something very much like the thunder of a distant train rushed into their hidden pocket. “It’s a microburst. Hang on!”
“A what?”
Kendra could barely hear Michelle over the increasing noise. Before she could answer, the swirling winds of the tornado-like miniature storm broke around them. The air filled with dust, leaves and small branches. She squinted against the grit to find Michelle curled into herself about two paces from her. Kendra fell on her, pulling her as gently as she could to the ground and then shielding her from the torrent. Preakness screamed and Bethany answered as both horses stamped and pawed at the earth. Preakness was unable to move freely, but Bethany didn’t have that problem. With a whinny and leap that sent her front hoofs into the air, she broke free and raced out of what she could only perceive as an immediate threat.
All Kendra could do was to wait until the mini-storm had passed to settle Preakness and round up Bethany. Right now, her attention was fully on keeping Michelle safe.
The hot desert wind trapped inside the vortex mixed with dust and razor-like sand to coat the back of Kendra’s neck. A second later, the backside of the storm pelted her shoulders with debris. She tightened her hold on Michelle’s trembling frame. Even though she could hear nothing over the pandemonium, Michelle’s frantic breaths reached her in the rise and fall of her breasts. “Keep your eyes and your mouth closed! It’s almost over!”
Michelle nodded and pushed her face further in to Kendra’s chest. Kendra’s body tensed. It seemed as if all her blood rushed straight to her groin. God, Michelle felt good when she held her like this.
As quickly as it had started, the haymaker moved away. Kendra opened her eyes and glanced upward. The yellow-brown windstorm rose a good hundred feet into the blue afternoon sky. Michelle pulled her head back from Kendra’s chest as quiet settled over them. Kendra looked down to find Michelle staring up at her with wide, moist eyes. Several streaks of dirt marred her cheek and forehead. Kendra wiped them away with her thumb.
Only a heartbeat separated them. Barely an inch of space kept her lips from claiming Michelle’s. Michelle chose that moment to moisten her lips, dried from the hot wind. She made a face reminiscent of a small child’s first contact with broccoli. “Ew. Dirt,” she choked.
Kendra laughed. “Yeah.”
She should let go of her.
She should kiss her.
Dirt on her perfect lips or not, she should...
Michelle pulled away from Kendra and hugged her knees to her chest. “What the hell was that?”
Kendra, ignoring the heat gathering in her boxers, stood and then helped Michelle to her feet. “It was a microburst. We call them haymakers, or dirt devils, depending on where they show up – in a hayfield, where they can save you a ton of trouble during the harvest, or in the desert, where they do nothing but pick up a ton of dirt.”
“Really? Well, we’re surrounded by your hay fields, not desert, so why am I such a mess?” Michelle laughed and glanced over her shoulder as Kendra settled Preakness, who was still a little skittish.
If Michelle was a mess, she’d be hard-pressed to find a more beautiful disaster. “The desert isn’t that far from here. I’ve seen some storms like that one spin for miles. They aren’t usually that strong, though, or that tall. Are you okay?”
Michelle brushed off her backside and laughed. “Yeah, I’ll live.”
Preakness released a shrill cry and glared at Kendra with one large, black eye. Kendra whispered under her breath, “Yeah, I know, boy. Dirt or no dirt, I should have kissed her.”
Michelle took off her knee-length, cream chiffon skirt covered with light blue flowers and discarded it. Why had she even packed it? Every time she put it on, she hated it. Even if she’d loved it, of course, it would never do. It also represented the very last of the items she’d brought with her. She hadn’t planned on needing anything for a funeral.
Services for Kennedy Bastian were set for Monday morning at ten. Margaret had called an hour ago and asked if Michelle would please attend. She thought the request rather odd, but at the same time, she had been there to offer what comfort she could and perhaps this was the older woman’s way of acknowledging that fact. Perhaps, at the reception afterwards, Michelle could help in the kitchen and free others from the task of filling endless bowls of potato salad, or as Brad had called them last night over dinner, funeral potatoes.
And Kendra might need her, as well. The last couple of days had been a whirlwind of activity. Kendra was in and out of the house, racing to town one minute to help Kennedy Bastian’s family with the funeral plans, running errands for his mother, or putting pressure on the Sheriff to open an investigation into the cause of the stampede.
Michelle had barely spent five minutes with Kendra since their time by the spring. She’d become distant again, it seemed, although in all fairness, Kendra was incredibly busy. It was amazing she’d even had time to go for that ride, now that Michelle thought about it. Why had she done it? Why had Kendra taken an entire afternoon off just to show Michelle that spring? Maybe she was coming around to the idea of a publicity campaign?
Not that it helped her with her current problem one little bit.
She released a sigh and slid on her jeans. She’d have to go shopping.
She hated shopping.
In the kitchen, she found Brent nursing a hangover and Brad frying two eggs, over easy, in the same vile pan that had burned her fingers four days earlier. They still ached and made working on her laptop less enjoyable than it should be. The early Saturday morning sunlight danced outside the window while a hummingbird hovered at a feeder hanging from the eaves.
Everything seemed so at peace, even with the intermittent moan or two from Brent. It was misleading, of course. Nothing was truly peaceful.
“You know, if you would stay home every once in a while, I’ll bet your head wouldn’t hurt so much,” Brad quipped as he flipped his eggs before sliding them onto a plate.
“Forget it, kid. Lif
e’s too short.”
Michelle smiled as Brent moaned again. “He’s right, you know. Why do you do this to yourself? It hardly seems worth it to me.”
“It’s fun.”
“You’re green!” Michelle Chuckled.
“I’ll be fine in a couple of hours.” Brent made a great show of sitting up straight. “So, what do you have planned for today?”
“Shopping.” Michelle poured herself a cup of coffee and took the chair next to Brent. “I have to pick up something for Monday. Any good shops in town?”
“Well, let’s see... There’s the Pick and Shovel. And the requisite big-box or two. Nothing a fancy lady like yourself would use.”
Michelle snorted. “Please. I shop at the big-box all the time. But this time of year, I’m wondering if they’ll have anything in black.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she tried to bite them back.
Brent must have sensed her discomfort. He reached out and patted the back of her hand. “It’s okay.”
“I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” His fingers stroked hers.
The kitchen door creaked open. Brent withdrew his hand and winked at her.
Brad, his plate full of eggs, browns and bacon, sat at the end of the table. “Morning, Kennie. There’s some bacon left if you want some.”
Michelle turned in her chair to find Kendra standing in the doorway. Her eyes, clear and ever alert, showered heat in Michelle’s direction and made her aware of every crevice in her body. Kendra blinked, as if she’d caught herself on some other plane of existence, and made her way to the stove. “Thanks, Brad. Maybe later.”
“Hey, Kennie? Are you still going upstate to the horse auction?” Brent asked.
Kendra nodded, leaning against the counter and blowing into her mug before sipping the strong coffee. “Picking up the new horse trailer, too. I’m leaving in about an hour. Why? Want to come?”
“No, not me. But Michelle here needs to find a real clothes store. I thought maybe she’d like to hit the mall.”
Michelle’s heart leapt in her breast. Nobody knew about the searing kiss she’d shared with their sister. Brent only tried to help. But the chance to spend another day, even another hour, with Kendra made her feel positively twitterpated! Like a school girl with a crush on the quarterback.
Still, she said, “Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience to anyone. I’ll just run into town.”
“Really, it’s fine. Kennie’s going upstate anyway. It’ll be fine. Right, Ken?”
She turned just in time to see Kendra shrug and place her still-full coffee cup in the sink. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure? I suppose I’d be able to get more images for the website if I tag along.”
“Of course. No problem at all. I could use the company, actually. Be ready to leave by nine. It’s a long drive.”
A long drive? How long? Michelle didn’t have time to ask Kendra before she disappeared through the doorway.
“You better get ready to go. If she says she’s leaving in an hour, you can set your watch by it,” said Brent.
“How long a drive is it?”
Brad shrugged. “About two hours, I guess. The auction starts at noon.”
“Are you coming?”
“Nah. I’m working with Apache some this morning, then Lenise and I are catching the matinee in town.”
Brad scraped the remains of his breakfast into the compost receptacle and rinsed his dish. Brent succumbed to his throbbing head and decided to take a nap on the living room sofa.
Her heart racing, Michelle stood and pushed her chair back under the table. “Have a great time at the movies, Brad,” she offered before turning to leave the kitchen.
“What?” he asked.
“The matinee? You’re going to the movies? Have a great time.”
“Oh, yeah, right. We will!”
Michelle hurried upstairs to fix her hair.
So far, so good. Kendra had trouble focusing on the winding mountain pass leading them to the city, but she had managed to keep them on the road. If she kept her eyes on the road and her foot on the gas, she could get through the day without making a fool of herself. Simple, right?
She stifled a self-deprecating laugh. It was a losing battle.
Every few seconds, her eyes left the highway and rested on the woman beside her. Michelle had changed into a light skirt and blouse. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders. Hands folded in her lap, eyes fixed out the window – she looked less than comfortable in Kendra’s beat-up old truck.
A woman like her should be surrounded by luxury. Soft linens. Fine clothes. Refinement, in general. She didn’t need some hick cowboi-dyke who felt more at home on horseback than anywhere else in the world. Hell, was Michelle even gay?
Sure, they’d kissed, but that didn’t mean Michelle was gay, right? Kendra had kissed plenty of women in her life, most of them, in fact, not gay. Michelle had kissed her back, though. The memory struck a hot, wet chord between Kendra’s legs and she shifted in her seat. Heat radiated through her groin like a hot mist. She shifted again, trying to alleviate some of the moisture in her jeans.
The memory of that kiss rode her like a summer storm, insistent and demanding, every moment. Every time she closed her eyes, she relived it. She shouldn’t have done it, but she didn’t regret it. Not one little bit. She didn’t have time for a woman in her life, and she had too much decency to play with women the way Brent did – especially straight women. But a part of her wanted to make time for the headstrong Miss Loving.
Until she was sure that the gorgeous woman sharing the bench seat was gay, she should be off limits. And even then...
The what-ifs wouldn’t go away. What if Michelle were gay? What if Kendra let herself feel something good and pure, for once? What if she opened her heart... just a little... and made time to share her world, including her burdens, with someone special.
What if...?
The last couple of days had been crazy for Kendra, but they hadn’t erased the warm, horrible, wonderful, awful, awesome, frightening feelings that had developed in the few days before that. That day at the spring had been amazing and provided her with just a tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could love again. People got happy endings all the time, right?
But not her. She’d never found one. Not in her entire life. So, the question remained... was any of it worth the risk?
“How far is the mall from the auction?”
Kendra forced herself to swallow before answering. “About twenty minutes or so, depending on the traffic.”
BANG!
The truck lurched and spun as a loud crack tore through the cabin. “Hold on!” Kendra growled.
From the corner of her eye, Kendra noticed the dead-white complexion of her companion.
Refocusing her attention on the road and regaining control of the truck, she fought the steering wheel and brought them to a skidding halt on the side of the road. Loose rocks flew from beneath the tires and a cloud of red dust blew over the hood.
“What just happened?” Michelle’s breathless voice trembled.
“Blowout, I’m guessing. You’ll need to get out, and go stand over by that boulder.” Kendra pointed to the far right, off the road about fifteen feet. “We’re in the Red Narrows, and it’s a dangerous curve here. The oncoming traffic can’t really see us.”
Michelle nodded and slid out of the truck. Talk about dangerous curves... The loose-fitting skirt did nothing to hide the rounded swell of Michelle’s hips and bottom. Kendra licked her lips and stifled a quiet moan.
Circling the truck until she found the offending tire, she cursed under her breath.
“Can you fix it?”
Kendra turned around to find Michelle exactly where she’d ask her to wait. Somehow, that truly surprised her. She leaned against the boulder, looking all vixen and seductive with her hair flying loose in the breeze and her gorgeous
ankles peeking from beneath her skirt.
“Well, can you?”
“Can I what?”
“Fix the tire, silly.”
“Oh. Yeah. It’ll just take a minute.”
Michelle stood out of the way, forcing herself to be calm instead of shifting nervously. If it wasn’t safe for her to stand by the edge of the road, how safe could it possibly be for Kendra to work there?
Kendra took off her worn and faded denim jacket and laid it over the side wall of the pickup truck’s bed. She climbed into the back of the truck and looked for something. A moment later, she bent at the waist to reveal the curve of one of the best blue-jean-covered asses Michelle had ever seen.
When Kendra stood upright again, she had located the jack and tire iron. She tossed the tire iron to the earth without a glance. After leaning the heavy, metal jack against the interior truck wall, she placed one booted foot on the truck’s railing and launched herself expertly to the ground. With seemingly little effort, she pulled the jack over the side and let it thump onto the dusty, red rock-strewn ground.
Kendra applied the lug wrench to the bolts holding the damaged tire in place and twisted. Grunting, she seemed to be having some trouble.
“You need some help?”
Kendra let go of the wrench and released her breath. “No. I got it.”
She tried again to loosen the bolts.
“You sure?”
Kendra growled.
Michelle tried to hold back the laughter threatening to bubble to the surface.
“What?” Kendra called over her shoulder.
Michelle placed a hand over her mouth. Had she laughed out loud? “Nothing!”
The first bolt spun free and Kendra made short work of the rest.
She positioned the jack under the truck near the blown-out tire and began to pump the handle. Muscles made from long hours herding and working cattle flowed like ocean waves beneath the fabric of her white dress shirt. Michelle caught her breath at the sight. There was nothing even remotely funny now.
She remembered the feel of those arms wrapped around her, gentle and feminine, but as hard as coiled steel. Her insides quaked, forcing her to close her eyes. When she opened them again, her heart beat in a solid staccato.
Loving the Heartland Page 10