“Look at me,” he said, capturing her face. Gently pulling her to him, he stole a kiss from her swollen lips, then laid back to catch her reaction.
Her green eyes widened with specs of gold in them, full of uncertainly and surprise. Wanting to erase the indecision, he held her gaze and leaned in and touched his lips to hers again, this time lingering to savor the plump curves of her mouth and drawing out his tender exploration of them until her lashes drifted down and with a soft moan yielded, allowing him to deepen his kiss.
He drew her close and she lifted her arms fully entering into the embrace. Her fingers delved into the hair at the back of his head, fanning the wildfire he ignited. Neither of them seemed to know how to put out the flame, nor did they seem interested in wanting to douse their passion.
Her overwhelming need for unconditional acceptance, to touch and be touched vied with his desire to erase the hurts inflicted in her childhood and to assuage her wounded soul.
“I don’t want to take advantage of your emotionally vulnerable state. I need you to offer yourself without fear of any regrets on the morrow.” He kissed her again and trailed his lips down the heated skin of her neck, fighting hard for control.
He had taken her breath away and awakened needs she didn’t know she had. He was thoughtful, kind, attentive and gallant to think he could save her from herself. She nestled against his cheek and kissed his jaw.
“Let me love you and erase your pain,” he whispered as he lightly traced the scratches that remained on her face.
She raised her head and looked at him with regret. “I wish my problems were that easy,” she said, running a finger along the smooth skin on his temple and down his cheek. Sighing, she laid her head against his chest listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, taking in his scent and melting into the comfort of his arms.
Chapter Six
The room was dark when Carolina woke the next morning, and she was no longer cradled against Stede. Something heavy lay across her feet and she was hesitant to move. She lifted her head and shoulders high enough to notice that King had taken on the task of a fur throw. She had to admit her feet were warm.
Touching her face with her fingertips told her there was no need to look in the mirror to verify that her eyelids were swollen. Without risking waking a sleeping dog or disturbing Stede, she tried to adjust to the early morning light filtering in the room through the shutters to determine if Stede was still asleep, but the comforter heaped in the middle of the mattress blocked her view of his side of the bed. She tried to edge her way out of bed, but discovered that her body was as stiff as the slats under the mattress from lying in one position all night. She had never slept with a man before, even fully clothed.
Tentatively she inched her hand toward the other side of the huge bed, hoping she wouldn’t wake him by accidentally touching a private part of his body. The farther her hand traveled without incident, the more at ease she felt until finally, much to her relief, she determined that he was no longer in the bed.
With an audible sigh she sank back into the down pillow and drew the sheet over her head. She couldn’t believe she’d lost control to the degree she had last night, releasing emotions she’d successfully kept locked inside for years.
How on earth was she ever going to face Stede again? No matter how many prayers she had said or church services she attended during her lifetime, nothing ever seemed to cure her of her pride.
The humiliation she’d experienced because he knew about her past had nothing to do with having grown up in a trailer park or being poor. Rather more to do with how he perceived the abuse. Whether he was too much of a gentleman to ever ask or not, he’d surely always wonder about specifics, especially if she had been sexually assaulted.
She was certain his grandmother had to have heard Carl screaming and cussing and beating her and Lizzie in the summertime when the windows were open. Mrs. Dugan knew exactly why their mother sent for Lizzie first, and the terror Carolina lived with thereafter.
She had spent the last twelve years making up a story about her parents being deceased, killed in a car accident, and that wasn’t necessarily a lie, because for all she knew they were no longer alive. But she never intended for Stede, or anyone else for that matter, to know her this intimately or to learn about her past.
Call that stubborn pride, like Carl had, or plain distrust that someone would keep her secrets. Either way, now he knew more than she’d ever shared with anyone. What had gotten into her? Letting out an exasperated breath of air, she slipped her feet out from under King, and patted him on the head as she headed for the shower.
She remained in there longer than was probably legal in Arizona, considering she wasted water, which was a precious commodity in the desert. However, the water was cathartic and mixed with the tears that ran down her face. On one hand she wanted to leave Arizona and Stede behind forever. On the other, she found that the more time she spent with him, the more difficult the idea of walking away from him became.
From the moment he found her unconscious on his property he had shown her nothing but kindness, generosity, and protectiveness and hospitality. She had never met a man quite like him. The better part of wisdom was not to let him get any closer than he already had because he knew too much.
Her emotions somewhat under control after the shower, she took her time getting ready. She put concealer on to cover the circles under her eyes and a gel to help reduce the puffiness on her eyelids before putting on her makeup.
She rubbed the ends of her hair in the towel as best she could until her hair was partially dry. She didn’t want to take time to dry it completely and prolong her stay any more than was necessary. She brushed her hair straight back, secured the sides up with two purple combs, then braided the rest of her hair and secured the end with a black elastic band.
Satisfied, she slipped into a black piqué wrap-around sundress with a square neckline and stepped into a pair of black espadrilles. Black fit her mood perfectly. She put a pair of large round silver loop earrings on and then fastened the necklace Stede’s grandmother had given her around her neck.
The next hour would be critical, and she remained unflinching in her resolve not to fall apart in front of Stede again. Not after the recent revelation that came to her in the middle of the night that she had fallen in love for the first time in her life. That’s what she was afraid would happen if she ever let her guard down and became vulnerable. And that’s exactly what she did.
King jumped off the bed and followed her about the room whimpering to get her attention, but she ignored him. She had a feeling that the dog sensed she was leaving and she avoided him because she knew she would miss him terribly. She gave him a quick pat on the head and proceeded to pack her things.
With the exception of having to grab her books and her computer that she had left in the great room, she was prepared to take off as soon as possible. All she needed to do was to control her emotions long enough to allow Stede to remove her stitches and to say a quick good-bye. Once she was in the car and away from the house, she could better control her emotions.
After straightening the bathroom, she began to make the bed. Lifting Stede’s pillow to her face, she closed her eyes and took in one last deep breath of his scent. The realization that she had fallen in love baffled her and she couldn’t believe she had fallen for him in such a short time, and a cowboy to boot.
When she woke a second time in the middle of the night she found his face inches from hers on the pillow. He slept with one arm draped across her shoulders. She stared at him in the dim light and let her olfactory sense breathe him in slowly, like sipping a thick milkshake through a narrow straw.
The wave of emotions that overpowered her became nothing short of astonishing. She was tempted to wake him and ask him to make love to her. But she had no experience and she had suffered enough indignity without exposing another blemish, especially if he didn’t want to make love to her. She only knew she was in love with him.
In the end she convinced herself that she might have mistaken his care and concern for her as love because she never had anyone show such compassion and consideration for her. In all probability he was simply being kind and would have treated anyone the same way. Or perhaps she had simply become enamored with his home. How foolish she felt.
She took one last look around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, except for the crutches he must have placed there this morning, but she had decided to leave them behind. Lifting up the pull handle on her suitcase, she whistled to King and opened the door.
“Hey, I was wondering when you were going to…” Stede began, but stopped in midsentence. “Where are you going?”
Already convinced that saying goodbye to Stede would turn out to be the third worst day of her life, she answered, “I’ve decided to go back to Washington. I think searching for Carl would be an exercise in futility.” She kept her eyes averted so he wouldn’t detect that she was on the verge of tears.
“Is that a fact?” With a bent forefinger Stede tipped her face up until she was forced to give him eye contact. He leaned toward her and gently gave her a kiss making her uncertainties more complex.
“Come and sit and have breakfast with me and we can talk.”
Carolina inhaled deeply. He had to quit kissing her and showing that dimple and half-smile that made maintaining her defenses a task. She needed her strength to get through this. “I’m not hungry, Stede. I think my ankle will be fine. If I have any problems, I’ll see a doctor back home. But I’d appreciate it if you’d take out my stitches before I go.”
He dropped his hand to his side. “You don’t even have plane reservations. Why don’t you let me fix you something to eat and then you can see about making plans?”
As he headed toward the kitchen, she shook her head. “That’s not necessary,” she said trailing after him. “I’ll stay in Phoenix tonight and fly out tomorrow.”
He rounded the island and laid his palms on the granite top. “Do you have someone special back east waiting for you?”
The question surprised her and she would like to have been able to say yes, or at least have had the nerve to lie to him. “No. But I do have a home and a job.”
“Then I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw and that blue, penetrating gaze of his pinned her as if laying claim to her right then and there. “You’re a challenge, Carolina, and whether you like it or not, I’m in this for the count. I’m willing to take the risk for the both of us. Besides, I make the best southwestern omelet west of the Rio Grande. And, I made plans to take my grandmother to lunch.
“She’ll be delighted to know you’re well and if I told her you were here but didn’t stay to visit, she’d be crushed. Every once in a while she brings your name up and wonders how you got along in life.”
That was an unexpected complication and she really didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see Mrs. Dugan again. “You don’t fight fair, Cowboy.”
He cracked an egg Rocky style and gave her a triumphant lopsided dimpled grin. “Nope.” One fair, winged eyebrow arched at getting no argument out of him about that.
Resigned to stay another day, she picked up a paring knife, hoping the gesture might make him wonder for a minute about the wisdom of leaving a weapon on the cutting board. “May I help?”
“You cook?”
“Of course. I’m a great cook.”
“All right, then. If you stay, I’ll give you a chance to prove your culinary skills.”
“And you think that challenge will make me change my mind about leaving?”
He clanged a frying pan on the stove and turned toward her and said, “Nope.” He winked, “I thought I’d accomplish that on my own.”
Carolina felt the heat of a blush right down to her toes and lowered her lashes, lest he see how pleased his interest made her feel. A reaction that confused her. For a woman looking for a family-oriented man, this rambling rodeo cowboy sure had a way about him that certainly messed up her circadian rhythms.
“Can you hand me the milk, please?”
She drew a bead on the carton of milk sitting on the counter, waiting its turn in the mixing of his masterpiece. She picked up the carton, opened it and took a sniff.
“What are you doing?” he asked amused.
“Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess. My sister and I were fed milk whose shelf life was always questionable. We learned to smell the carton first. To this day, I can’t drink milk without taking a whiff,” she replied off-handedly as she passed him the carton, completely missing the hardening of his countenance at the way she’d been forced to routinely live as a child.
“To my way of thinking, Carl Fox should crawl on his hands and knees over hot coals begging your forgiveness, not the other way around, Carolina. I admire your courage, and my grandmother will be delighted to see you.
“I remember her telling me once how terrible she felt because she never called the police on Carl. But then she said she had been scared that things would go worse for you afterwards and she was afraid he might kill you. She even said she used to hold her hands to her ears to drown out his yelling, and she’d cry.”
“I’m sorry to have caused her that pain. She wasn’t responsible for his behavior and she did the right thing by not getting involved. I have wonderful memories of her.”
Carolina shook her head. The better part of wisdom told her she should head back to Washington, yet she felt happy about remaining. She looked forward to seeing Mrs. Dugan again.
“You look pretty, by the way,” Stede said.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, then began whistling.
****
The rest of the morning breezed by without one mention of the night before or her past life and after she and Stede enjoyed a delicious breakfast on the porch, they did dishes together and he took her down to the hospital to remove her stitches.
Carolina was glad she didn’t have to see Jenny because she didn’t want her to see her face, although the puffiness around her eyes from crying had begun to diminish. Stede took out the stitches and cleaned her wound and gave her some cream to help the scar disappear.
“All great cowboys and cowgirls have at least one scar,” he said.
They waved to Manny who was in the corral tending the horses and Stede told him they were on their way to take his grandmother to lunch.
“You’ve been awfully quiet since you changed your mind about leaving,” Stede said after they got into his SUV.
He reached over and took her hand. “Do I make you feel uncomfortable because I know who you are, or because I was there last night when you cried?”
“Both,” she said, staring at their joined hands and wondering how many other women he had held hands with this easily. His money, fame and good looks were bound to attract women whether they were the one-night-stand rodeo groupies or women in his socio-economic circles bent on a permanent relationship.
“I’ve struggled to control a lot of feelings for many years. Being back here has been an emotional experience in many ways. A lot of ugly memories still haunt me no matter how hard I try to forget. And others that I thought I had already dealt with, but obviously I wasn’t very successful.”
“You shouldn’t feel bad. I’ll never tell anyone about last night. I’m like the cowboys you see in a TV movie. When a lady in distress cries, well, let’s just say you disarmed me and I was happy to be there for you.”
“I never wanted anyone to know about my past.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I think you needed to release some of those deep emotions. Didn’t your father, I mean, Carl, ever have a job?”
“My mother worked cleaning houses when we were young. She always took my sister and I with her. I don’t know if Carl ever had a real job. He and his cronies, most of whom never held regular jobs, used to walk along the two-lane highway and wait to be picked up and
taken to the copper mine where they sometimes worked part time on the graveyard shift.
“And when it snowed in the mountains, there was always a need for drivers to work sanding and plowing the highway. My sister and I loved winters best, especially after our mother was gone, because the weather and Carl were tolerable when he had money to spend.”
“Wasn’t he ever kind to you?”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “On rare occasions when he felt generous, that was the word he used, before he had had too much to drink, he’d treat us to what he considered a wholesome meal—either McDonald’s or KFC. As far as he was concerned life didn’t get any better than that. But for me and Lizzie, the best days were when your grandmother sent us food.”
“She never spoke of any of those details, Carolina.”
“Well, she had to be careful Carl didn’t get the impression that she was offering us charity. But Lizzie and I thought she was quite clever. She never sent full meals. Maybe some leftover spaghetti and meatballs, or a nice piece of roast beef. Half a pie or cake. She sent us treats that were like a holiday dinner my sister and I dreamed of having, but never did.”
“What about Carl? Didn’t he feel obligated to feed you?” Stede asked with a deep frown on his brow.
“Usually we were fed slimy bologna on week-old bread, with milk we sometimes didn’t dare drink. Most of time we ate dry cereal. I often wonder if my sister still smells the milk before she pours it on her cereal?” She wondered, making a sound in the back of her throat.
“Peanut butter became our favorite sandwich because it never seemed to go bad and also made us feel full, and always tasted great when your grandmother would give us a jar of her homemade jam. All of Carl’s money, what there was of it, went for cheap booze and cigarettes and God knows what all.”
Stede reached over and took her hand. “You are a remarkable person, Mary Fox, and should be proud of all you’ve accomplished.”
“Thank you,” she said, swallowing to keep from choking on her tears that threatened to spill forth. Then quickly changing the subject, said, “I can’t wait to see your grandmother. She was the only kind person I ever knew back then, besides my mother, but she…”
Proud Mary Page 5
