After Brock parked the truck in one of the sheds, he went inside the house expecting that Kylie had gone up to her room. However, there she was, sitting on the sofa with a mug of tea in her hands.
“I was cold,” she said simply. “If I don’t get warmed up, I won’t fall asleep.”
“I could heat a brick in the oven,” he said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.
“I haven’t tried that yet, though I do use a hot water bottle. It works.”
If he were in bed with her, she’d be plenty warm. If he were in bed with her—
He’d been aroused all night, cold or no cold, confrontation with Trish Hammond or not. It was a condition he was getting used to around Kylie. At first, he’d denied it. Then fought it. Then tried to control it. Tonight he was feeling reckless. He was tired of the guilt and recriminations because maybe part of him wanted her because she’d belonged to Alex. He was tired of weighing the right thing against the moral thing. He had enough of “should he” or “shouldn’t he.” Did it matter that she’d trade one Warner for another? Did it matter that he was second instead of first?
If they both satisfied their curiosity and cravings, where was the harm?
They both knew the score. They both knew he was leaving.
Suddenly, as if maybe she could read his thoughts and was frightened by them, she stood. “I think I’ll take this up with me.”
“Good idea. I’ll make a mug of hot chocolate to warm my toes.”
Hesitating a moment, she looked down at her tea, then finally said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
They smiled politely at each other, and that was the end of New Year’s Eve.
Or so he thought.
Maybe she was thinking there wouldn’t be many more mornings, because as she turned, he thought he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. But she was gone so fast, he knew he’d never be sure. Kylie was like that. All emotion one minute, all action the next.
He made his hot chocolate and was sipping at it when Kylie called down the stairs. “Brock, I forgot something down there. My nightgown and robe are on the dryer. Would you bring them up?”
He’d seen her doing wash earlier in the day. Some of his clothes were in the laundry room, too. “Sure.”
Dumping the rest of his chocolate into the sink, he rinsed the mug and put it in the dishwasher. Then he went to the laundry room. Two of his flannel shirts lay on a pile with her gown and robe. They were flannel, too—practical here in the winter. Noticing the ruffle around the neck of the nightgown and embroidery on the robe, he thought, Practical, yet feminine. Just like she was.
Grabbing the pile, he switched off the lights and then headed up the stairs.
He didn’t mean to barge in on her. It was nothing like the night she’d barged in on him. After all, she was just unclasping her necklace.
What necklace was she wearing? He hadn’t noticed anything lying on her sweater. Then he saw the mustang dangling from the chain.
Tossing the clothes he’d carried upstairs onto the bed, he approached her. He remembered her graduation night, the things he’d felt that he shouldn’t have felt. “Is that the necklace I gave you?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, it is.”
He wrapped his arms around her then, brought her closer and kissed her, much more provocatively than he’d kissed her that night so long ago. Much more provocatively than he’d ever kissed her before.
From Kylie’s fervent response he knew tonight simply kissing would never be enough.
Chapter Twelve
Whatever Kylie had felt for Brock before became deeper, fuller, richer when he kissed her. The kiss was nothing short of explosive and she gave herself up to the power of it…to the power of her feelings for this man. Leaving the previous year behind, she thought about new beginnings. But most of all, she simply felt tonight.
Although Brock’s kiss was possessive and claiming, his hands were almost gentle as they stroked up and down her arms, then went for the hem of her sweater. She didn’t think about who she was, or how she looked, or how Brock saw her. Lost in the experience of simply wanting to love him, she let him undress her as she undressed him. She’d never touched him this intimately before with this much freedom. The night gave her freedom. The New Year gave her freedom. Her love gave her freedom.
By the time she’d rid him of his flannel shirt and T-shirt, he was skimming her slacks down her legs.
They were standing by the bed now, and as she reached for his belt buckle, he stayed her hands. “I’ll get that. You crawl into bed.”
The room was chilly and she knew he was thinking about that. Thinking about her. She slid under the covers waiting for him…yearning to touch him.
Moments later, he was beside her and they were facing each other. The dim light on the dresser still glowed and she was glad because she needed to look at him.
Under the covers, he wrapped his arm around her and began kissing her again. Her hands roamed his body as his roamed hers. His skin was hot, his spine straight.
When her hand rested on his backside, he groaned. “Do you know what you do to me, Kylie? Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?”
It seemed to her she’d wanted Brock for a lifetime. When he kissed her breasts and tongued her nipples, she knew she had. She belonged with him. She should have been his years ago. But time and circumstances and fate had intervened. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but he chose that moment to lay his hand on her tummy. He chose that moment to slide his fingers over her belly and her most intimate place. As he touched her there, she felt as if she was going to come apart in his hand.
After he stroked her, he probed deep with his fingers. She wanted him inside of her, but he didn’t give her a chance to tell him that. The sensations he was initiating were so incredibly exquisite. She closed her eyes tight, held her breath and tried to absorb each one of them. At the same time he probed her, creating a rhythm as primitive as a drumbeat. His other hand, with one finger, touched the nub and sent off a flashpoint of tingles and erotic pleasure so strong, she called out and then cried his name.
She was still catching her breath when he started to turn away.
“Where are you going?”
“That was it, Kylie. That’s what I set out to do. You’re getting close to your due date.”
All right, she was due in a few weeks. All right, she understood that maybe he didn’t want to take any chances. But she would not let him pleasure her without her pleasuring him. So she took his arousal in her hands and felt the pulsing beat.
“Kylie.” His tone was almost sharp.
She knew that was from arousal, frustration that she hadn’t listened to him pliantly and a need he wouldn’t admit.
When she stroked him, he sucked in a breath and said, “You don’t have to…”
Pushing back the covers that were in the way, she touched the tip of her tongue to him. She was going to love him, and he would never forget it. Her fingers teased his stomach and her lips took him as her tongue laved him. He restlessly shifted with the growing pleasure. She touched him everywhere she could reach and she knew she was enhancing every sensation. His groans told her that. The expression on his face told her that.
She thought he was as far gone as she had been. She thought she’d been giving him the most pleasure he could ever experience. But suddenly, he turned from her, grabbed his shirt from the floor and covered himself with it. She watched as the pleasure she’d given him overtook him and he uttered a guttural cry. At that moment, she knew Brock hadn’t accepted his feelings for her and believed she still belonged to someone else. If he could really embrace who he was, who she was and who they could be together, he would have climaxed inside her…he would have joined their bodies and known true union with her despite any practical concerns.
Lying beside him again, she pulled the covers over her to protect herself from the sudden chill. The wind sounded against the side of the house and whistled under the eaves.
After Brock blew out a long breath, he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed.
“You’re just going to leave without a word?” Kylie asked, her voice trembling a bit.
“I never should have started that. I feel as if I used you and that was never my intention.”
If she poured out her love for him, would it make a difference?
She knew it wouldn’t. When he’d seen that necklace around her neck, he’d known what he meant to her. But to Brock, her love would never be enough. Even if she turned her back on Saddle Ridge. Even if she said she’d follow him anywhere. The truth was—she didn’t know if she was willing to do that. Because she would still have Alex’s baby to love, and she would never, ever hold back on that love. She would never, ever put her child in the position Brock had been in when he’d grown up at Saddle Ridge.
“I didn’t feel used…until now,” she declared.
Brock picked up his boots and the clothes that he’d tossed by the side of the bed. Then he left her room without another word.
There was nothing more to say.
Winter raged the first two weeks in January, putting down more snow, creating extra chores for Dix and Brock. Frustrated that she couldn’t help them, Kylie sat in her craft room working on a beaded comb for Lily on Sunday afternoon. She and Brock didn’t have much to say to each other, and they were awkward when they were together.
The day Brock had taken her into town for a checkup with her doctor, she’d met with her midwife as well as her obstetrician. She was ready. Her midwife was ready. Gwen had said to call her anytime…anywhere.
Earlier Kylie had called her mother for a long talk. Her mom hadn’t offered to come to Wyoming to help after the baby was born, but she’d invited Kylie to bring the baby to Colorado for a visit. It would be difficult, but somehow Kylie wanted to do that…to feel her mother’s love again close-up, to see pride as her mom got to know her grandchild.
Even though Kylie had considered it, she’d decided not to go to church today. Her back ached a little from lifting the filled Crock-Pot this morning. Besides, Brock would want to drive her to church, and she couldn’t abide the thought of another tense trip, another spate of silence where neither of them said what they were thinking. Getting through meals was bad enough, and even those Brock was avoiding. He’d grab something with Dix or make sure he was busy doing chores.
Midafternoon she was staring out the window trying to imagine her life in a few months, when Brock came into the room, a sheaf of paper in his hand. She thought maybe he needed to use the computer.
He was still wearing his coat, though, and she looked at him, puzzled. “Aren’t you staying?”
“No, I’m going back out. Dix and I have to take out the wagon and lay out feed. More snow’s coming tonight.”
After he set the papers on the table, she pushed aside the comb she was working on. “What are these?”
“These are a conglomeration of things you need to know about. The first printout is a receipt. It’s a bill of sale for fifty head of Angus. They’ll be delivered at the end of March. I was going to give them to you for Christmas, but I knew you wouldn’t accept them. Not along with the cape. They’re just part of the package I’m leaving you with, so you can get Saddle Ridge going again.”
A package he was leaving her with?
Words were on her tongue but she kept silent, waiting to see what came next. She set the bill of sale aside as she examined the second paper in the pile.
“That next sheet is an accounting of the capital I’ve added to your accounts. Even if you sell that parcel of land, you’ll need that money for horses, supplies and expenses until you get everything up and running again. You don’t need to pay me back. I don’t want any argument on this. We’re family. With this, you’ll be on your feet again.”
As if he were in a hurry, he went on, “The third sheet is a lease agreement for the sugar-beet farming. I found someone willing to take it over. You and he will split the profits. In a year you’ll have that adding to your income. By then, Saddle Ridge will be a well-oiled wheel. You won’t need to be depending solely on any one aspect of it. If you want to start breeding horses at that point, you can.”
“How’s Feather?” she suddenly asked.
Brock looked confused by her change of subject. “Feather’s fine. By spring you should be able to put a saddle on her.”
“Thanks to you. Thanks to your gentling. You liked working with her, didn’t you?”
A neutral expression stole over his face that told her he wasn’t going to let her see anything that he was feeling. “You started the process.”
“And you continued it. You liked exercising Caramel, taking Rambo on runs. Admit it.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with the rest of this.”
“Sure it does, Brock. You love the land and you love the animals. I think part of you even loves Saddle Ridge. But you won’t let yourself feel it. You’re always running away from it.”
“I haven’t run away from it. I just found a different life.”
“No. You found a life that won’t remind you of your old one. There were things in that old life that mattered, too. Like me and Alex. Like the teepee rings.”
That brought a startled expression to his face.
“You think I don’t know about them?” she asked more gently. “You think I don’t know that you’ve always spent time there?”
“So what if I have? I can find teepee rings other places in Wyoming. I can find Mayan ruins in South America. Remnants of the Athabascan heritage in Alaska. I can appreciate where man has come from anywhere.”
“Don’t generalize this, Brock. When I asked you if you wanted your mom to join us for Christmas, you said she’d never come back here. Is that really true? No ghosts remain. Sure, there are memories. But past memories can be changed into better ones…into good ones with new memories. Haven’t we done that while you’ve been here?” She so wanted to pull his feelings from him…to make him admit what they had.
“Memories you and I made that we’re going to regret. A clean break will be best this time, Kylie.”
“And you’re never going to see—” Her voice broke. She was going to say, “the child who could become your son or daughter.” Instead, she said, “your niece or nephew?”
“You have enough people in your life. Your son or daughter won’t miss me.”
“I’ll miss you.”
His face hardened and she knew he was thinking about all the things he’d rescued her from. All the help he’d given her. But none of that was the reason she’d miss him. He wouldn’t believe that, though. He wouldn’t believe her love had begun long before her marriage to Alex. Because he didn’t want to. He was still nursing wounds that would never heal unless he poured the salve of love on them.
She picked up the papers lying on the table. “I’ll accept all of this for now. But you’ll share in the profits and I’ll repay you someday, Brock. I have my pride, too.”
His eyes were black with all the emotion she guessed was rolling inside of him, but he simply said, “Yes, I guess you do. I’ll be out with Dix for the next few hours.”
“I made soup in the Crock-Pot, so it will be ready whenever you’re finished.”
She’d done it because she knew he couldn’t miss dinner that way…he couldn’t completely avoid her that way.
After a last look at the papers on the table, he left the room, walked down the steps and went out the front door.
Leaning back in her chair, she stared down at the gifts he’d given her.
There was one missing—his heart. He couldn’t give it to her if it wasn’t whole. Maybe someday…
She felt as if she’d been waiting all her life for Brock. She’d just have to wait a lifetime more.
Although the grey clouds seemed to meet the fence line, snow had not yet started falling as Kylie’s phone rang.
When she answered it, Amanda Daily’s voice was panicked. “Have you heard from M
olly?”
“I talked to her on Wednesday.”
“No, I mean today.”
“No, I haven’t heard from her. Why? What’s wrong?”
“We can’t find her. This is all my fault. If I had just told her like George wanted me to—”
“Told her what?” Kylie was afraid the couple was getting a divorce and had tried to keep that information hidden from Molly.
“I might lose the cell signal soon. I’m headed out to one of her friends where I think she might have gone. George is out of town with Seth, looking for a horse for her.”
“Did you check the clinic?”
“That’s the first place I went, but it’s locked up tight.”
“What happened?” Kylie asked again. She needed to know before Amanda drove out of range.
A few moments of silence ticked by until Amanda said, “Molly’s adopted.”
Adopted? She would never have thought it. Never would have expected it. She knew Amanda and George Daily loved Molly deeply, richly, fully.
“George and I have been arguing about telling her for a few months. Finally, I decided when he got home today, we would tell her. So I got out her birth certificate and some papers I’d received—background on her biological mom, that kind of thing. I had them in my room on the dresser. Sometimes Molly goes in there to use a dab of my perfume. She must have seen them. I don’t even know how she left the house without me knowing. I usually hear the door. Her coat and hat and boots and gloves are gone. And so is her puppy Buffy. She must have taken her with her. I checked for tracks, followed her boots and paw prints to the end of the street, and that was it. Snow is going to start falling any minute, and…” Amanda’s voice started fading in and out. “I just hope…that her friends…explain…”
The call dropped and Kylie knew Amanda was out of range.
Standing still for a few moments, Kylie considered her options. Although Seth’s clinic was locked up tight, that didn’t mean Molly wasn’t inside. Seth kept the key hidden behind a loose brick at the side of the building and Molly knew about that, just as she knew the security alarm code.
Expecting His Brother's Baby (Baby Bonds #3) Page 18
