A Land Called Deseret

by Janet Dailey

  "And the other names on the card are their children?" LaRaine felt stiff and brittle, an eggshell with a hammer poised above it.

  "Missy is Colter's daughter from his first marriage. Ricky is Natalie's nephew. Stephanie…is their daughter."

  "Travis, I'm sorry." Her heart ached for him.

  "Are you, Rainey?" he challenged, a grow lifting in mockery. "I'm not."

  Her throat worked convulsively as she turned away. "I don't know what to say."

  "Neither do I." His voice sounded tight, heavy with impatient anger. "I thought you'd changed, but I was wrong."

  "W-what?" LaRaine faltered in confusion.

  "One of the few times that I don't bother to lock my desk, I find you going through it." The condemnation was there again.

  "I told you I wasn't snooping," she protested again. "It was an accidental thing. I wasn't looking for that card."

  "Would you like to see my financial statement?" Travis eyed her coldly.

  "Outside of yourself, I thought money was your sole concern," he jeered.

  "Maybe it was once," she admitted, "but—"

  "—but not anymore." Travis finished the sentence for her. "You're no better at lying than were at acting. You can plan on packing your things and leaving for California the day after tomorrow."

  "But--"

  "I'll give you the balance of whatever money you need." His offer stung.

  "I don't want you to give me money!"

  "Consider it a going-away present," Travis stated. "You're used to accepting presents from men."

  Grabbing up his hat, Travis moved toward the door, his long strides gliding over the distance. When the screen door slammed shut behind him, LaRaine winced. The door was being slammed on her. Travis was paying her to leave. He didn't want her around anymore.

  If he had given her money two months ago, she would have kissed him for it and gone merrily back to California. But now the only place she wanted to be was here, on this ranch with him. Travis didn't want her to stay. He wanted her out of his house and out of his life.

  Inside LaRaine was a frozen ball of pain. There was so much irony in the situation, but she found none of it humorous. There was no one to blame but herself. This was one lesson she hadn't counted on learning—how to hurt to the very marrow of her soul. She didn't feel bitter. The punishment seemed to be all that she deserved for the shallow and callous existence she had led before she met Travis.

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  Chapter Twelve

  ONE SUITCASE was packed and another was barely half-filled. LaRaine had been attempting to pack her clothes all day, but she kept finding excuses to postpone it. First she washed so all her clothes would be clean. In order to fill the loads, she washed the men's laundry, too—at least that was the reason she used.

  Naturally there had been meals to cook and dishes to clean afterward. The meals had been silent affairs with neither LaRaine nor Travis saying more than a handful of words. Joe had observed their frozen silence, but he seemed unaware of the cause, and unaware that LaRaine was leaving.

  Convincing herself that she didn't want to leave the house dirty, LaRaine had thoroughly dusted each room. Now it was evening and she was alone in the house. There were no more excuses not to pack. She stared at the care sitting open on the chair. Sighing in resignation, she changed into the nightgown that she would wear to bed that night and laid out her clothes for the next morning, a practice she had only recently begun.

  With that done, she began taking the folded clothes from her dresser drawer and laying them in the suitcase. As the suitcase slowly filled, so did the tears in her eyes until they welled over the dam of her lashes and began spilling down her cheeks. Her sniffling attempt to hold them back became hiccuping sobs.

  Finally she gave up trying to check the flood and crumpled on the bed to bawl in earnest. She wasn't crying because she hadn't got her way or because her pride had been hurt. She cried because the one person she loved was sending her away. The lumpy bed shook with her sobs.

  "Rainey?" Travis's haunting voice came to her, gentle with concern.

  A hand touched her shoulder and she realized she hadn't imagined his voice. She rolled away from his touch with a start, her blurred gaze finding him sitting on the edge of the bed. His rugged features were drawn into a frown at the sight of her tea-washed face. She could imagine how terrible she looked with her eyes all swollen and red, and wisps of black hair clinging to her wet cheeks.

  "What's the matter?" he questioned.

  LaRaine turned her back to him and sat up. She didn't want him to see her like this. "Nothing." She choked out the word between sobs. She scrubbed at the tears with her hands, but more kept racing down to take their place.

  "Why are you crying?" Travis wasn't put off by that lie.

  "I'm not crying." LaRaine laughed a painful denial. "These are crocodile tears. Can't you tell?"

  "No, I can't tell."

  Iron fingers clasped her shoulders to turn her forcibly toward him. Her hands made a futile attempt to ward him off, her efforts were pathetically weak. She kept her face averted, burying her chin against her shoulder and letting the tousled black curtain of her hair fall forward in concealment. Travis was just as determined to see what she hid. When he attempted to push the hair away from her face, she tried to elude him and brush his hand away.

  "Go away. Leave me alone," she pleaded.

  Weaving his fingers into her hair, he cupped her head in his large hand and forced her face up to him. She kept her eyes tightly closed, but more tears squeezed through her lashes. Each time she breathed it was a sob.

  "Those are real tears," Travis stated.

  "Why are you here? What do you want?" LaRaine sobbed. Her shaking hands attempted to strain against the steel muscles of his arms.

  "I knew you were packing, so I came to return your makeup," he explained. "I promised I'd give it back to you when you left."

  "My makeup?" Laughter bubbled hysterically among her sobs. "My God, isn't that rich? I'd forgotten all about it!"

  The hard shake Travis gave her stopped the laughter, but it also broke what little control LaRaine had on her tears. She no longer tried to fight out of his hold, but simply covered her face with her hands and began crying anew.

  She didn't even make token resistance when Travis folded her in his arms and pressed her head against his chest. It was the one place in the world she wanted to be, whatever the reason. There was comfort and warmth and something strong and solid to lean on.

  "Rainey, what's wrong?" Travis questioned in a low, soothing voice.

  "Hold me, Travis. Please, just hold me," was all she asked.

  He held her close and LaRaine buried her face in his shirt and cried. Her fingers curled into the material, holding onto him in case he let her go. His shirt absorbed the bulk of her salty tears.

  When her crying at last began to abate into silent, sobbing breaths, she felt the gently pressure of his mouth against her hair. She moved against it in a feline gesture that seeks the comforting touch. Travis repeated it near her temple, then brushed to her forehead and down to the damp lashes of her eyes. He kissed them dry and went on to her cheeks; he seemed intent on kissing away her hurt. LaRaine turned her face to receive his ministrations.

  Soon her pain-dulled senses began to feel gain. There was more than just comfort in the warm pressure of his mouth against her skin. It was a slow stimulating of her nerve ends, making them tingle with awareness. His hands were no long simply holding her, but had begun a mobile and provocative exploration of her back and shoulders.

  When his mouth moved near her lips, LaRaine moved her head the fraction of an inch necessary to intercept his path. Immediately his mouth hardened in possession, claiming the trembling softness he had previously avoided. She could taste the salty moistness of her own tears on his mouth. It only seemed to increase their thirst for each other.

  Her hands crept around her neck, fingers sliding into the sensuous thickn
ess of his jet-black hair. The silk material of her nightgown made a slick surface for his hands to glide over in their searching and exciting caresses. Travis lifted her the rest of the way across his lap, crushing her to the upper half of his body.

  The blue silk of her nightgown had twisted beneath her and ridden up. She could feel the roughness of his denim levis against the bareness of her thigh. The buttons of his shirt made a row of imprints on her middle.

  His mouth worked over her lips, then moved to her ear, his warm breath igniting fiery responses. The bite of his teeth played with a lobe before he shifted his attention to the creamy curve of her neck. The nuzzling investigation turned her bones to water, waves of exquisite pleasure rushing through her.

  The strap of her gown slipped from her shoulder. Tipping her head back, LaRaine gloried in the exploration of his mouth on her throat. The fresh, clean male smell of him, an intoxicating fragrance to senses that were already high, surrounded her. She seemed as high as the sun—bathed in golden light, afire with amber flames, and glorying in the magic.

  Her fingers sought his face, trembling over the strength of his rugged features and drawing his head up so her lips could find the hard male shape of his mouth. The elemental hunger of its possession consumed her with its primitive needs until her heart was drumming to a pagan beat. Locked in a heated exchange of passion, LaRaine pressed lingering kisses over his face.

  "Love me, Travis," she pleaded in a husky murmur. "Even if it's only for this one time."

  "I will." Not letting her go, Travis began to lean back, drawing her with him until they were lying side by side.

  She had heard the rawness in his voice and knew he ached with the same needs she had. His hands slid across her stomach to cup the fullness of her breast. It seemed to swell beneath his touch with all the love she felt for him. To know his possession, she was willing to sacrifice her pride.

  "It doesn't matter if you pretend I'm Natalie." She abandoned it completely. "Just love me, Travis."

  His mouth bruised her lips, as in punishment for raising a ghost. Just as roughly, it moved down her neck. The faint bristle of beard on his jaw scraped at her skin. A hand at her hip molded her more fully to his length, letting her feel all the hard muscles and taut desire.

  "I can't hold you, Rainey, and pretend you're Natalie." Travis spoke against her skin.

  Shivering from the rejection, LaRaine felt her hope dwindling. She had wanted him to show feeling when he made love to her, even if it was for someone else. She didn't want it to be just a physical thing, prompted by lust.

  "When you're in my arms and I kiss you and touch you, all I feel is you." His voice seemed to vibrate over her skin. "I can't hold you and think of anyone else."

  LaRaine breathed in sharply, then couldn't seem to release it. His large hand was sliding the drooping shoulder strap the rest of the way off her arm. The strong fingers running down her skin sent delicious goose bumps over her flesh.

  "But Natalie—" She stopped, frightened of misunderstanding what he had meant.

  Travis brought his attention back to her lips, his mouth teasing the parted softness. "You aren't standing in for her, Rainey." It sounded like a promise.

  The bodice of her gown was pulled down, the opposite strap digging into her arm, and a caressing hand explored the exposed territory, climbing the white mountains to the rosy peaks. Its touch added to her disturbed excitement.

  Wanting the same freedom of unrestricted touch that he had, LaRaine worked at the buttons of his shirt, loosening them until all were unfastened. His hard flesh burned with life. Curling, dark chest hairs tickled her palms, sensitive now as was every part of her.

  One minute she was on fire in his embrace, but in the next, Travis was levering himself up to sit on the bed. Confused, LaRaine half rose, with an arm braced to hold her. She reached for his arm, wanting him beside her.

  "Don't leave me, Travis." She was conscious of begging, but she didn't care.

  His gaze burned over the rumpled cloud of her raven hair, down the kissed softness of her face to the half-fallen bodice of her nightgown. Slowly it returned to her beseeching dark eyes.

  "I'm not leaving," he told her, and shrugged out his shirt to toss it on her suitcase.

  Then he was leaning back to her, his hand reaching out to slide off the one strap before he gathered her into his arms. The bared softness of her body was crushed to his naked torso, flesh meeting flesh and kindling one consuming flame. His embrace was unhurried as he kissed her eyes closed. Assured by his answer, LaRaine felt no need to rush, either, wishing to prolong the time in his arms.

  "Why were you crying?" He nuzzled her ear. "You never did tell me."

  He knew so much about her and soon would know so much more, there seemed no reason to hold back the truth. Vaguely, LaRaine was amazed that he hadn't guessed the reason. Her actions seemed to have made it so obvious.

  "I don't want to leave tomorrow," she admitted.

  "I thought you could hardly wait to get back to California." His teeth tugged at her lobe, his warm breath exciting her nerve ends.

  She denied that. "I want to stay here."

  She intended to answer that, the hard pressure of his mouth covered her lips and the long, stirring kiss made her forget what she was going to say. When it ended, she hadn't time to recover before Travis moved downward to kiss her breasts and she was lost in a whirl of golden sensations. Yellow fire licked through her veins at the intimate touch of his tongue. When he had her a shuddering mass of desire, he came back to toy with her lips.

  "I love you." It was an unconscious release of the limitless joy that filled her heart.

  His mouth became still for an instant. Lifting his head, he framed her face with his hands. There was a frowning look to his rugged features as his wary gaze ran over her expression.

  "What did you say?" he demanded.

  LaRaine wouldn't take it back, no matter what humiliation it might cost her. "I love you, Travis."

  "Do you know what you're saying?" There was an angry tightness to his mouth.

  Unable to meet the blackness of his eyes, LaRaine directed her gaze at the tanned column of his throat. It roamed over the breadth of his muscled shoulders to the springing mass of dark hair that wandered down his chest to the flatness of his hard stomach.

  "I love you," she repeated. "I don't want to leave tomorrow. I want to stay here."

  "A bird in the hand, is that it, Rainey?" The caustic sting in his taunt lifted her gaze to his compelling male force. "Have you decided that I might not be bad husband material after all since you don't have prospects in California?"

  His doubt that she truly loved him hurt. The pain from the wound shimmered in her dark eyes. "I do love you, Travis." Her voice was small.

  "Enough to give up the cocktail parties, jewelry and designer clothes?" He was skeptical. "There isn't any glamour here. Just hot sun, dust, and hard work. Is that what you want?"

  "I've had glamour…and a certain amount of fame. It's pretty empty, Travis," LaRaine whispered, fighting the ache in her throat. "Look at my hands. I have stubby nails and even a couple of calluses. I know what I'm letting myself in for when I say I want to stay here."

  "Do you, Rainey? My God, do you?" There was an almost desperate ring to his demand. His hands unconsciously tightened around her face, inflicting pain.

  "It might be years before I can afford to give you any of the luxuries you dream about."

  "I don't want you to give me anything," she protested. "I only want love you and help you and work with you to make this ranch the best in Utah. I know it's hard to believe, coming from me. I even find it strange, but deep down inside that's the way I really feel."

  His taut muscles began to relax. "You haven't hated it here? All the hard work? The isolation?" he questioned further.

  "It's been work, but I haven't hated it. In a way, I've kind of enjoyed it." Which was something she had been slow to admit herself. LaRaine ran her hand lightly over his pow
erful shoulder. "Except at night. It was empty in this house all by myself." She looked at him, loving the vital, male face. "Would you sleep with me tonight, Travis, so it won't be so lonely in this bed?"

  She could almost hear a silent chuckle in the warm breath he expelled. His mouth came down to lightly take her lips and nibble at their softness.

  "If you thought it was lonely here—" his warm breath mingled with hers "—you should have tried sleeping in that shed! It was hell sleeping in that cot and imagining you in my bed."

  "Did it really bother you?" she whispered.

  "Bother me? You've bothered me since the day I saw you in that sultry pose when I rode up." Travis kissed her hard, driving her lips against the white barrier of her teeth. After a punishing minute, the pressure eased to a gentler level. "That's why I moved to the shed. I knew you wouldn't be sleeping in this bed alone if stayed in the house."

  "Really?" LaRaine drew back, wanting to see his face.

  "Yes, really." A smile deepened the corners of his mouth.

  "But…why?" She didn't understand.

  "I'd already been burned once by falling in love with the wrong woman. I didn't it to happen again. The problem was there wasn't a whole helluva lot I could do to prevent it," he told her.

  "You mean…" She breathed in. "You said you loved Natalie? That I almost made you forget her?"

  "In the beginning, it was true. But it didn't take me long to realize that when I kissed you, I wasn't thinking about Natalie." Travis kissed her again, as if to prove it, and it was a while before he let her up for air.

  "Do you still love her?" LaRaine questioned. His hands had begun a series of arousing caresses. Soon she wouldn't care about his answer.

  "Not in the same way I once did. I care about her, I admire her. If she needed my help tomorrow, I'd be there," Travis told her. "I felt gentle and protective toward her. With you, the love I feel is strong and fierce, something I can't control."

  Rocked by his confession. LaRaine wound her arms around him, too happy to speak. When she attempted to hide her face in the curve of his neck, Travis lifted it to claim her lips in a branding kiss and she abandoned herself to the delights of his embrace and the persuasive ardor of his mouth. She placed herself in the hands of an expert and learned more lessons from him in the art of giving.