Thanking Jessica for the tea, Rachel squeezed a bit of fresh lemon into it. “I’m okay … really, I am.”
Jessica sat down across from her and frowned. “It’s been four days now since it happened. You just mope around. Something’s wrong. I can feel it around you.”
The tart, sweet tea tasted good to Rachel. Gently setting the china cup down on the saucer, she stared at it and said softly, “I wonder why Jim hasn’t come by?”
“Ahh,” Jessica said with a burgeoning smile, “that’s it, isn’t it? Why, I didn’t know you were sweet on him, Rachel.”
Looking up at her youngest sister, Rachel whispered, “I guess what happened out there in the meadow did something to me—ripped something away so I could see or feel more… ?.” Lamely, she opened her hands. “I know he probably thinks I think less of him because of what his two brothers did to me.”
“Hmm,” Jessica murmured, “I don’t sense that.” She laughed, pressing her hand to the front of the green plaid, flannel, long-sleeved shirt.
“Your intuition?” Rachel valued Jessica’s clairvoyant abilities.
“Maybe Jim hasn’t come around because he’s busy. You know, with two brothers in jail, someone has to run the Bar C, and he’s got a part-time job as an EMT with the Sedona Fire Department. I imagine between the two, it has kept him hopping.”
“Always the idealist.”
Chortling, Jessica asked, “Do you like the alternative?”
“No,” Rachel admitted sadly, sipping her tea. “I think Jim’s avoiding me.”
“I don’t.”
There was a knock on the front door. Jessica grinned and quickly stood up, her long blond braids swinging. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No,” Rachel said.
“I’ll get it. You stay here.”
Rachel was about to protest that she wasn’t an invalid—and that Kate and Jessica were doting too much over her—when she heard a man’s low, husky voice. Jim. Instantly, her heart began to beat hard in her chest and she nearly spilled the contents of her cup as she set it askew on the saucer.
“Look who’s here!” Jessica announced breathlessly as she hurried back into the kitchen, her eyes shining with laughter.
Jim took off the baseball cap he wore when he was on EMT duty. He saw Rachel stand, her fingertips resting tentatively on the table, her cheeks flushed a dull red. Would she rebuff him? Tell him to leave? He was unsure as he held her widening eyes.
“Hi,” he said with a broken smile. “I just thought I’d drop over and see how you were coming along.”
Jessica patted his arm in a motherly fashion. “Believe me, you’re just what the doctor ordered, Jim. Listen, I gotta go! Dan is helping me repot several of my orchid girls over in the greenhouse and he needs my guidance.” She flashed them both a smile, raised her hand and was gone, like the little whirlwind she was.
When Jim heard the front door close, he met and held Rachel’s assessing, forest green gaze. “I wasn’t sure if I should drop over unannounced or not,” he began, the cap in his right hand.
“I—I’m glad to see you,” she said. “Would you like to have some tea? Jessica just made some a little while ago.” The look on his face tore at her. She saw dark smudges beneath his bloodshot eyes and a strain around his mouth. He looked as if he hadn’t slept well at all.
“Uh … tea sounds great,” and he replied, maneuvering around to the chair and pulling it out. He placed his dark blue cap on the table and said, “I can’t stay long.” He patted the pager on his belt. “I’m on duty.”
Nervously, Rachel went over to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out another cup and saucer. Jim was here. Here! How could she tell him how much she missed his presence in her life? Compressing her lips, she poured him some tea and placed it in front of him.
“Kate brought over some fresh doughnuts that Sam picked up from the bakery this morning. You look a little pasty. Maybe some food might help?”
Jim looked up. “That sounds good,” he said. “I’ll take a couple if you have them handy.” He studied the woman before him. Rachel’s hair was combed and hung well below her shoulders, glinting with red-gold highlights. She wore a pale yellow, long-sleeved blouse, tan slacks and dark brown loafers. In his eyes, she’d never looked more beautiful. Her black eye was gone and he saw only the slightest swelling along her right cheekbone. She almost looked as if nothing had happened. But it had.
Thanking her for the chocolate-covered doughnuts, he watched as she sat down next to him after pouring herself more hot tea. He gauged the guarded look on her features.
“How are you surviving?” he asked, munching on a doughnut. For the first time in four days, he found himself hungry. Ravenous, in fact—but even more, he was starved for her company, her voice, her presence.
“Oh, fine … fine… ?.” Rachel waved her hands in a nervous gesture. “But you don’t look too good.” She avoided his eyes. “I’ve been worried about you, Jim. About you having to go over to your father’s home and live there and take the heat from him about your brothers.” She gestured toward his face. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping well, either.”
With a grimace, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “A lot’s changed since we last were together,” he admitted slowly.
“Is your father okay?”
He heard the genuine worry in Rachel’s voice. Her insight, her care of others was one of the many things he loved fiercely about her. Putting the cup aside, he laid his arms on the table and held her gaze.
“He had a stroke four days ago.”
“Oh, no!” Rachel cried.
Scowling, Jim rasped, “Yeah… ?.”
“And what’s his prognosis?”
He shook his head and avoided her eyes. “The docs up in Flag say he’s going to make it. His whole right side is paralyzed, though, and he can’t talk anymore.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Rachel whispered, “Oh, Jim, I’m so sorry. This is awful.” She opened her eyes. “Why didn’t you call and tell me about it?”
Shrugging painfully, he put the doughnuts aside. “Honestly?”
“Always,” she whispered, reaching out and slipping her fingers into his hand.
“I was afraid after what happened that you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore … because of my brothers. You know, the Cunningham name and all… ?.”
Rachel felt her heart break. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh, Jim, no! Never … not ever would I let how I feel toward you change just because of your last name.” She reached out and took his other hand. “Is there anything we can do to help you? Or your father?” She knew Frank Cunningham would be an invalid now, confined to bed unless he went through therapy. And even then, Frank would be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. She saw tears glimmer in Jim’s eyes and then he forced them away. His hands felt strong and good on hers.
Without a word, she released his hands, stood up and came around the table. Moving behind him, she slid her arms around him and pressed her uninjured cheek against his and just held him. She felt so much tension in him, and as she squeezed him gently, he released a ragged sigh. His hands slid across her lower arms, and she closed her eyes.
“I feel so awful for all of you,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry all this happened.”
The firmness of her flesh made him need her even more. Without a word, Jim eased out of her arms and stood up. Putting the chair aside, he faced Rachel. Tears ran down her cheeks. She was crying for his father, for him and for the whole, ugly situation. Her generosity, her compassion, shook him as nothing else ever could.
“What I need,” he said unsteadily as he held out his hand toward Rachel, “is you … just you… ?.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AS RACHEL pressed herself to Jim, his arms went around her like steel bands. The air rushed out of her lungs, and she felt his shaven cheek against her own. A shudder went through him as he buried his face in her thick, dark hair. Clinging to her like a man who was dying
and could be saved only by her. Her heart opened and she sniffled, the tears coming more and more quickly.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to cause this kind of trouble … and your father—”
“Hush,” Jim whispered thickly, framing her face with his hands. He was mindful of her fractured right cheekbone, and he barely touched that area of her face. He looked deeply into her dark, pain-filled eyes. Tears beaded on her dark lashes. Her mouth was a tortured line. “This isn’t your fault. None of it, princess.”
He winced inwardly as he realized he’d allowed his endearment for her slip out. Rachel blinked once, as if assimilating the word. She gulped, her hands caressing the back of his neck and shoulders.
“There’s been so much misery between our families,” she whispered unsteadily. “I was hoping … oh, how I was hoping things would settle down now that Kelly was gone.”
Caressing her uninjured cheek, Jim wiped the tears away with his fingers. “We aren’t going to pay the price that those two decided to pay one another, Rachel. We aren’t. You and I—” he looked deeply into her eyes, his voice low and fervent “—can have a better life. A happier one if we want it. We can make better decisions than they ever have. We should learn from them, not duplicate their actions.”
Closing her eyes, she felt a fine quiver go through her. “Not like Chet and Bo,” she admitted painfully.
He nodded grimly. “We’re nothing like those two. They have to find their own way now. Father is mute. He’ll never speak again. He’ll never be able to wield the power or call in the chips like he did before his stroke.” Caressing her hair, Jim added wearily, “Chet and Bo will go to prison for at least a couple of years. I’ve talked to the district attorney for Coconino County, and he said that, based upon the evidence and our testimony and their past jail records, the judge won’t be lenient. He shouldn’t be.”
Numbly, Rachel rested her brow against his chin. She felt the caress of his fingers through her hair and relaxed as he gently massaged her tense neck and shoulders. “It’s all so stupid,” she said. “They could have done so many other things with their lives—good things.”
“They made their bed,” Jim told her harshly, flattening his hands against her supple back, “now let them lie in it.”
Surrendering to his strength, Rachel flowed against him. She heard Jim groan in utter pleasure. Breathing in his masculine scent, she reveled in his warm, tender embrace. As the moments flowed by, she closed her eyes and simply absorbed his gentle and protective nature.
Pressing a kiss to her hair, Jim finally eased Rachel away just enough to look into her languid eyes. There was a sweet, spicy fragrance to her hair and he inhaled it deeply. Rachel was life. His life. He saw the gold flecks in the forest-green depths of her eyes, and he fought the urge to lean down and take her delicious, parted lips. Instead, he asked wryly, “We never got to finish our conversation up on the Rim, do you realize that?”
Heat burned in Rachel’s cheeks as she stood in his arms, her hands on his hard biceps. “You’re right … we didn’t.”
“What do you think? Am I worth the risk? I know you are.”
Shyly, Rachel searched his serious features. “Yesterday,” she whispered, “I thought a lot about you … how long I’ve known you, and how I hadn’t realized you had a crush on me back then.”
“My crush on you,” Jim told her, moving a strand of hair away from her flushed cheek, “never ended.”
Swallowing hard, Rachel nodded. “I began to understand that.”
“I’m scared. Are you?”
“Very,” Rachel admitted in a strained voice, her fingers digging a little more firmly into his arms. “When Bo knocked me off the horse, I thought I was going to die, Jim. I could see the hatred in both your brothers’ eyes and I knew …” She swallowed painfully. Her eyes misted and her voice softened. “I knew I loved you and I didn’t have the courage to tell you I did. And I was sorry because I thought I’d never see you again.” A sob stuck in her throat, and she felt hot tears spilling down her cheeks again.
Jim held her hard against him and gently rocked her back and forth. “It’s okay, princess. I know you love me.” He laughed a little shakily. “What a crazy time this is.” He kissed her hair and then carefully cupped her face. “I love you, Rachel Donovan. And ten thousand stampeding horses aren’t going to stop me from seeing you whenever I can.”
His mouth was warm and strong as it settled against her tear-bathed lips. Rachel moaned, but it was a moan of surrender, of need of him. She tasted the sweet tartness of the lemon and sugar on his lips, the scent of juniper around him as he deepened his exploration of her. Her breath became ragged and her heart pounded. The power of his mouth, the searching heat of him surrounded her, drugged her, and she bent like a willow in his arms.
Just then, his beeper went off.
“Damn,” he growled, tearing his mouth from hers. Apologetically, he eased Rachel into the nearest chair. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at the pager. “Larry and I are on duty. It’s probably an EMT call.”
“The phone’s in the living room,” Rachel whispered, dizzy from his unexpected, tender kiss. Touching her tingling lower lip, she felt euphoria sweep through her. Just the sound of his steady, low voice as he talked on the phone, was comforting to her. He loved her. The admission was sweet, filled with promise. And filled with terror. But as she sat there remembering the taste and touch of Jim, Rachel realized her terror hadn’t won. It was still there, but not as overwhelming as before. Maybe the fact that she had almost died made her realize how good life was with Jim in it.
Jim walked back into the kitchen, his brow knitted. “I’ve got to go. There’s been a multiple accident about a mile down 89A from here.”
Rachel nodded and stood up. Her knees felt weak. Before she could speak, he slid his arm around her, drew her against him and captured her parted lips with his mouth. It was a hot, searching, almost desperate kiss. Before she could respond, he released her and rasped, “I get off tomorrow at noon. I’ll bring lunch.”
Then he was gone. Rachel swayed. Touching her lips gently, she felt a stab of fear—only this time she was worried over Jim and the accident scene. She remembered his promise of lunch tomorrow and the thought blanketed her, filling her with warmth. Never had she felt this way before. Her heart throbbed with a joy she’d never known. Love. She was in love with Jim Cunningham.
A little in shock over the realization, Rachel sat down before she fell down. She heard a knock at the front door, and then Kate’s voice rang through the house.
“Rachel?”
“In here,” she called. “Come on in.”
Kate took off her cowboy hat and ran her fingers through her dark, tangled hair. She grinned as she came into the kitchen.
“I just saw Jim leaving in a hurry. He on call?”
“Yes. There’s been a bad accident a mile down from our ranch on 89A. Are Dan and Sam here?”
“Yep,” she said with a sigh, going over to the kitchen counter and pouring herself a cup of tea. “It’s really nice,” she murmured, “that you’re home now. I like having an excuse to escape from vetting horses and cattle and to come over here and see you.”
Smiling up at her older sister, Rachel patted the chair next to her own. “Isn’t it great? Come, sit down. You’re working too hard, Kate.” Rachel knew her sister was up well before daybreak every day, and rarely did she and Sam hit the sack until around midnight. She didn’t know how Kate did it. Perhaps she had Kelly’s drive and passion for the ranch more than any of the sisters.
Flopping down on the chair, Kate sipped her tea. “Mmm, this hits the spot on a cold day.” She crossed her legs. Her cowboy boots were scuffed and dusty. “Did you hear the latest? Sam and I just came in from Sedona.”
“No.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “I hate town gossip. You know that.”
“Mmm, you’ll be interested in this,” Kate said. She took another gulp of the steaming tea and
sat up. Tapping the table with her finger, she said, “We heard from Deputy Scott Maitland that Bo and Chet are probably going away to do federal prison time.”
Rachel nodded. “Yes, Jim just told me the same thing.”
“They deserve it,” she growled. “If I’d been there, I’d probably have blown their heads off with my rifle, and then I’d never live outside of prison bars again.”
Rachel grimaced. “Thank goodness you weren’t there, then. You’ve seen enough of that place.”
Kate made a face. “No kidding.”
“Did you hear that Jim’s father had a stroke? He’s up at the Flag hospital recovering.”
Shocked, Kate sat up. “No. What happened?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it was the shock of Bo and Chet being in jail.”
“Or you pressing charges,” Kate muttered angrily. “I’m surprised that Old Man Cunningham didn’t keel over of a stroke a decade ago. He’s always blowing his top over some little thing.”
“Two of your sons going to prison isn’t little,” Rachel said softly. “The ranch, from what Jim said, is in his brothers’ names.”
“Is Old Man Cunningham paralyzed?”
“Yes. He’s pretty bad,” Rachel murmured worriedly.
“Well,” Kate said, pushing several strands of hair away from her flushed cheek, “that means Jim is going to have to assume the running of the Bar C.”
Surprised, Rachel bolted upright. She stared at Kate. “What?”
“Sure,” she said, leaning back in the chair and sipping her tea, “someone’s got to run it now that the old man can’t. Chet and Bo are probably looking at five years in the pen. Maybe they’ll get off in two and a half for good behavior. If Jim doesn’t quit his job as an EMT and return to the ranch, it will fall apart. Who will be there to pay the bills? Give the wranglers their checks? Or manage the place?” With a shake of her head, Kate said, “Boy, what goes around comes around, doesn’t it? Cunningham was trying to put us out of business and look what’s happened to him.” She brightened a little. “Come to think of it, that trumped-up lawsuit he’s got against us will die on the vine, too.” Smiling grimly, she got up and poured herself another cup of tea. “This disaster might be a blessing in disguise. If we can get his lawyer off our backs, we won’t have to spend money filing—money we don’t have.”
Tough Enough Page 33
