“Hmm,” Mari mused. “You may be right. So do you think Captain Reese told the truth when he told Kat that his investigation failed to pinpoint a definitive ignition point, and that they’d had two other reports of carelessness with fire that night? That boys playing with matches in the agriculture hall could have just as easily caused the conflagration as Kat’s knocked-over candle?”
Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think it matters as long as the Spring Palace fire was an accident. Accidents happen. If telling her story helped Kat feel better, then I’m glad she did it. I’m even more glad that Captain Reese told her they hadn’t publicized the matches incident, and that they wouldn’t be publicizing her confession, either.”
“Me, too. Hopefully, having this burden off her back will ease her burden.”
Emma sipped her lemonade and waited a full minute before saying, “Yes. Maybe then she’ll act a little nicer to you.”
The swing creaked as Mari rose and walked to the porch rail, and tossed the ice from her glass into the rose bed below. “She’s upset with me because of my feelings for Luke. I hate that. I knew she’d react this way.”
“She told me she wouldn’t object if Luke Garrett came courting.”
“Yeah, she told me the same thing. Joan of Arc never looked any more the martyr.”
Emma smiled. “She’s not lost all her talent for the dramatic, has she? You realize she’s feeling jealous, don’t you? She lost her love, even though it wasn’t real, and you found yours. What’s more, you found true love.”
“Did I?” Mari gave her sister a wistful smile. “He left me. I may never hear from Luke Garrett again.”
“Now who’s being the dramatic one?” Emma rose and linked arms with Mari. “Believe me, you’ll hear from Luke Garrett again. Sooner rather than later, if I have my guess. The man cares for you. He arranged bodyguards for you and Kat before he left town, for goodness’ sake. Even Papa was impressed by that.”
“Yes, well, I’m glad the Dickersons are in jail and those men are off the job. I’ll never again take for granted the pleasure of privacy. It was unnerving to walk out here and know someone was watching, even if I couldn’t see them.”
“I know.” Emma tossed her ice after her sister’s. “I’m hoping that now, life around Willow Hill will return to normal.”
“Normal ear pulling, frogs in our beds, Papa snatching kisses from Mama in the mudroom…”
Emma laughed. “It sounds heavenly. Speaking of frogs in our beds, I think I’ll go upstairs and give my own a thorough search. I saw Tommy with a cup of worms earlier. Are you coming in?”
“Later. Looks like there’s a storm brewing. I think I’ll watch for a while.”
Emma took Mari’s empty glass and headed inside. At the door, she paused. “Mari?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been thinking. I hope you’re right about the necklaces and the tasks we’re supposed to accomplish. It’s nice to think I might have something to look forward to.”
As Emma disappeared into the house, a flash of light drew Mari’s attention skyward. To the northwest, an arched crescent of gunbarrel-blue cloud rolled high and fast toward the city. While Mari watched a trident of lightning claw across the dark churning cloud, her mind lingered on the change in her elder sister.
Emma was healing, finally, and it filled Mari’s heart with gladness. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if her theory regarding the necklaces someday proved true? Emma should have a new man in her life, someone to fulfill her dreams of happiness and love. Someone who would give her a family of her own. She was a good woman. She deserved happiness. It brought Mari such pleasure to see her sister looking forward again, rather than living in the past.
With a sweep of leaves and sand, a slam of cold air hit Mari placed both hands on the porch rail and leaned forward, lifting her face into the wind, experiencing an uplift of spirit. She’d think positively from now on. For Emma, for Kat. For herself.
“Come back to me, Luke,” she said into the chilling breeze. “Come give me another chance.”
The land fell into shadow as cloud consumed the last flame-edged tints of sunset. Lightning forked across the sky. Thunder cracked and boomed while fat drops of rain spatted down through the violent air.
Mari welcomed the bluster and wondered if this would prove to be the first norther of the season. She hoped so. It was time for a change. Time for something new.
A flurry of lightning turned the darkened sky a flickering white, illuminating the black-clad figure half-hidden by weeping branches of the willow nearest the house. Beneath the wide brim of a hat pulled low, eyes gleamed like a cat’s, and Mari gasped. Yet, even as fear flared within her, she recognized the man and love warmed the chill in her blood. “Luke.”
Was she imagining the moment? Had the yearning in her heart conjured up a phantom the likes of which to make Roslin of Strathardle proud?
The wind whipped the hem of his long, black duster as he stepped forward into the rain. No phantom, this, but a man. Her man.
Mari felt the wildness of the storm sizzle through her. Her man, her bodyguard, her lover had come back to her. Cold rain pelted her skin as she dashed off the porch to meet him halfway. With a strangled cry, she leaped into his outstretched arms.
His mouth descended upon hers in an instant, pulling a desperate whimper from her throat. They kissed as if the surrounding storm had unleashed within them. Violent. Endless. Beautiful.
“Mari,” he murmured against her lips. Dragging her back into the shelter of the gazebo, he kissed her again. Then again. His mouth moved across her skin, nibbling on her chin, her throat, her earlobe. “Mari. God, how I’ve missed you.”
“You came back.”
“Of course I came back.”
“But I sent you away.” A sob tore itself from Mari’s throat. “I told you I wouldn’t marry you.”
Luke drew away just far enough to stare down into her face. He tenderly drew his thumb across her cheek. “Sugar,” he chided. “Why would you think I’d give up after the first try? I love you, Maribeth. Now and always.”
She collapsed against Luke’s chest. Incredible joy dissolved her into a mixture of tears and laughter. He loved her. He still loved her. He’d come back for her.
He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her gaze to his. Even in the shadowy moonlight, Mari could still see the fiery emotion brimming in caramel eyes. With a tentative smile, he asked, “So, then. I’m guessing you still love me, too?”
Though he tried to hide it, Mari knew Luke sought reassurance. Like her, he needed to know her true heart.
Needed to hear her say the words. The hopeful note in his voice touched her heart and brought fresh tears to her eyes. “Of course I do, you confounded man. Just don’t ever leave me again.”
His smile widened. Kissing her forehead, he brushed aside her tears with his thumb. “Never again. I promise.” He sought her mouth again, and their kisses melted into a frenzy of urgent desire.
Luke drew her against him, his arms holding her captive in his embrace. “Tell me again,” he whispered against her lips. “Please, honey.”
“I love you.” Moving in a slow circle, they danced to the rain’s gentle music as the storm thickened then slacked around them.
“Again, Maribeth. I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”
Sweet, needful yearning filled her. She wanted him. Wanted nothing more than to sink onto the soft grass of the gazebo floor and yield her body and soul to the man who’d already snared her heart.
“I love you, Luke Garrett.” Affirming her words with her hands, her mouth and the insistent press of her body, Mari knew he’d be powerless to resist. She wanted him, and she wanted him now.
“Ah, hell, sugar,” he said as his hands worked free the buttons on her bodice. “Tell me your daddy isn’t standing with shotgun ready at the kitchen window.”
She tugged his raincoat off. “Only my sisters are home.”
“How’s their aim?
” Cool air caressed her heated skin as his hand cupped her breast. Luke nipped her skin at the base of her throat, his tongue swirling circles upon her skin. He stroked her nipples gently, rolling them between thumb and forefinger. Bending to take one in his lips, he gave it a strong, demanding suckle.
Mari’s head lolled back. “Emma is an even better shot than Papa,” she managed to say. “Oh, yes, there, right there.” She reveled in pleasure as he feasted. Her voice hitched higher, “If Em wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. Kat, on the other hand, can’t hit the broad side of a barn.” She yanked his shirt free from his pants, tore at the buttons.
“So I have a chance of getting out of here alive?” He mumbled against one breast while his hand toyed with the other. “I’d be damn sorry not to finish this.” Recapturing her nipple, he drew it into his mouth with a sigh.
Mari laughed as her hands explored the bare skin of his chest. “Don’t worry, Ranger. You’ll live to see morning. I’ll see to that.”
Luke hissed when she dragged a fingernail across his nipples. “Good. That’s good. Ah, God, honey, you’re killing me.”
Again he took her mouth with a vengeance. Fierce, hard. The rain fell around the gazebo in sheets, the sound blending with their whispered moans and murmured promises.
Mari’s body ached for him, needles of pleasure reaching every muscle, every bone. She wound her arms around Luke’s neck and kissed him ravenously, with as much demand as he kissed her.
He coaxed her to the grass, his lips never leaving hers. His body enveloped hers in another embrace. The heat and power of his erection pressed against her belly and Mari lost herself in the moment.
“Luke,” she whispered, pleading. “Luke, I need…please, can you…”
“Hush, now. I’ll take care of you.” He raised her skirts and his hand froze against her bare hip. “Damn, Maribeth. Where the hell are your drawers?”
She laughed. “I was getting ready for bed. I decided to get some air.” She nuzzled his neck, breathing in his scent “Of course, I didn’t expect to be ravished in Mama’s gazebo by my former bodyguard.”
He placed his hand boldly between her legs, wringing a surprised cry of pleasure from her. Stroking her most intimate place, he informed her, “I’m still your bodyguard. I will be until the day I die.”
He bent and kissed her mouth, her jawline and her eyelids while his hand worked magic against her tender skin. “Mari, honey?” he breathed. “I don’t think this is gonna happen slowly.”
“No,” she told him. “It won’t.” Mari couldn’t resist touching him. He was here, and he was hers. Fast, slow, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except that they loved each other. The rest could take care of itself.
Running her fingers through his hair, she nuzzled his neck, his shoulders, his chest as he pushed down his open trousers and kicked them away. When she reached down and closed her hand around his length, Luke cried out hoarsely and thrust into her palm.
Mari stroked him, feeling a woman’s triumph over her man. His velvet body responded, swelling in her hand. When she daringly leaned down and touched her tongue to the tip, his control snapped. With a thump, Mari landed on her back in the grass. She stared up into Luke’s slightly shocked and feverish face.
“That would finish things for us both, little lady.”
“But I want to.”
“Hell, I want you to, too.” Luke strangled out a laugh. “Just not tonight. And not in the shadow of your father’s house, that’s for damn sure.”
Taking his revenge, Luke returned his hand to her wet heat. He explored her, teased her, made her mindless. Mari bucked toward his touch, tossing against the damp grass, pleading senselessly, calling his name and God’s in one agitated breath. Finally, with one long, satisfying thrust, he claimed her.
Mari almost cried in relief as joy and fulfillment raced to every last nerve ending in a perfect blend of bliss. For a few exquisitely beautiful moments they lay connected, body and soul. Their lips brushed, sweetly at first, then built a momentum that their bodies soon followed.
He took her quickly, finding the easy rhythm that true lovers share. He withdrew and delved again. She met him, urged him. No words were spoken, the language of their loving enough. The pace became more desperate, seeking what they both needed from each other. Rapture. Release. Renewal. They were together again. Nothing on earth would keep them apart.
Luke’s breathing grew ragged against her neck, as his strokes became short, rapid. Her fingers threaded his hair and traveled down to his shoulders where the muscles rippled and tensed. Sensing he was close, too, Mari tilted her hips and angled her thighs to spread further, allowing him greater access. The slight movement was enough to drive him deeper, provoking her release. She cried out as the first tremors ripped through her.
“That’s it, Mari, come with me,” he coaxed in a raspy whisper.
The storm inside the gazebo broke as Mari shattered completely in Luke’s arms, surrendering to his seductive plea. Her body arched, her spirit soared, her soul sang. It was magic, pure and simple. As the rain continued to fall, Luke followed her over the edge with a guttural cry. He swelled and stiffened, then poured himself into her keeping. With a sated sigh he collapsed atop her, his head pillowed between her neck and shoulder.
When their breathing slowed and their heartbeats returned to normal, Mari reached up and brushed a lock of damp hair from Luke’s brow. This was the best part of making love, she decided, the quiet time afterward. The precious lull that followed the exhilaration when a woman doesn’t know where she ends and her man begins. When she cannot fathom his heartbeat from hers. When she wants nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms so she can wake to be loved again.
He was still inside her, holding her close when she smoothed his hair again. Kissing his temple, she closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his. She’d found a love to last a lifetime, and in that, Mari knew, she’d finally found a part of herself.
“I love you,” he told her, his voice a low rumble like faraway thunder. “I don’t deserve you, but I don’t care. I’m not letting you go, Mari-mine.”
“I love you, too. And you deserve me. We deserve each other. We should be happy.”
“I’m happy,” Luke said with a satisfied yawn, as he slipped from her, rolling onto his side. “They say that love makes a man insane, and now I’m inclined to believe it. For I’m nearly naked, loving you in the rain, half-expecting a bullet to graze my bare ass, but I’m happier than I’ve been in all my sorry life. If that isn’t crazy in love, I sure as hell don’t know what is.”
“Truly?” she asked, encouraged.
‘Truly.”
Crazy in love, was he? Mari waited a defining moment, drew a deep breath, then asked, “In that case, Luke Garrett, will you marry me?”
His head shot up. “What did you say?”
“I love you, too, Luke Garrett. Will you marry me?”
He sat all the way up, totally silent, completely still, staring at her. Nervousness had Mari reaching for her soaking wet dress. She slipped it over her head and tugged it into position, then busied herself by fastening her buttons.
When he still didn’t speak, Mari filled the yawning silence with babble. “I figured it’s my turn to ask. I mean, it’s only fair. I had it all planned out. I intended to make you a special piece of chocolate and I thought I’d bring it and a nosegay of flowers—although, come to think of it, I changed my mind about the flowers. I decided on brandy instead of flowers. And here we are and I don’t have either chocolate or brandy…shoot…I don’t even have flowers. But it seemed like the right time. Was I wrong?”
Standing, he cleared his throat as he reached for his pants. “No.”
“All right. Well…” She paused, chilled by both her dripping dress and the delay in his response, and watched him pull on his britches. “Was that a ‘no’ to the first question or to the second one?”
“Oh.” He picked up his shirt. “The second one. D
efinitely the second.”
“Good, then.” On the verge of wringing her hands, she laced her fingers and rested her hands in her lap. “Yes, well…?”
“Wait a minute. I’m confused here.” Luke shrugged into his shirt. “I wasn’t sure you’d even open the door to me when I called at Willow Hill. I certainly never anticipated, um—” he gestured around the gazebo, smiled slightly “—this. And I’d have bet my life that you would not have asked the question you just asked.”
“If I was wrong?”
“No, the other one.”
“You mean the one you haven’t answered yet.”
“Yes.”
“All right. Yes, to which?”
His lips twitched with a smile. He extended his hands toward her. When Mari took them, he pulled her to her feet. Without releasing her, he said, “Both.”
“Oh.” Then, she smiled back at him. “Oh!”
“That’s what I say.” Luke lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed the center of first one palm, then the other. “I’ll be proud to marry you, Mari McBride. It’s why I came back to Fort Worth. I was…I am…determined to make you mine. I, too, had a plan.”
“You did?”
“Uh-huh. I intended to prove to you and your family that I am dependable, trustworthy, and totally in love with you. I wasn’t going to rush it. I wouldn’t lose my patience. And I swore that I absolutely, positively wouldn’t attempt to seduce you back into my bed—no matter how badly I wanted you there.”
“I like my plan better,” she said, her lips lifting in a wicked grin.
“It definitely has some stellar points. Although, something tells me we’ll need to keep those particular points private if I stand any chance of romancing your family. I still will need to win them over, right? The McBrides don’t want an outlaw for an in-law, correct?”
Mari smiled. “That hasn’t changed.”
“So what did change, Maribeth? Why did you do me the honor of proposing marriage to me?”
Straining to see him clearly in the deepening shadows, Mari spoke in a solemn tone. “My family didn’t change, Luke. I changed. I realized the truth in what you tried to tell me that day at Inspiration Point. I am a woman grown. It is time for me to make a woman’s choice, to make a family of my own. If I must choose between you and the McBrides, then I choose you.”
Her Bodyguard Page 26
