by Cait London
She held him fiercely. He’d never been so close to anyone before. “Tell me, Jonah,” she repeated. “Tell me what you know.”
Instinctively, Jonah picked her up, holding her to him. He shook, too terrified that he would hurt her, too needy to let her go. “Before things happen, I see them. Not really, just impressions. I don’t want this to happen to me... no more... no more…”
He told Harmony what he’d never told anyone, this woman who loved him so fiercely, who kept near him so he could sleep, caring for him... who became his other part when they made love and in the past moments, a woman who knew him better than anyone ever had.
“I love you, Jonah. Remember that, darling....” Harmony was saying.
He closed his eyes, keeping her love wrapped deep within him, knowing it. When the trembling stopped, he eased into a chair and held her on his lap. With his face warmed by her scent, her wild silky hair, Jonah began to open his heart, his locked memories. “When I was a boy, I saw my father fall from that ladder... It seemed like a daydream then... then it happened and he died... Other things happened. My wife— Maggie— I knew she shouldn’t try to have another baby, not when we’d lost others... but she was so happy... so...”
He breathed deeply. “Then Grace... I’d seen her so cold... and then the wreck. I shouldn’t have left her.”
“Jonah, you had no choice. I’ve seen that ravine, that coulee. No one would have seen you.”
“Maybe...” But he was reaching into the past, delving into other times. “I saw a three-year-old boy fall into the river— I was already moving toward him when he actually entered the water.”
He looked at Harmony, not shielding his pain, his agony. “I’m losing my mind. Just when I’ve found you.”
“You’re not losing me, Jonah.” Harmony stroked his tense, damp shoulders, smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “We’ve just found each other.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to be hurt by me. By what I might do—”
He brought her wrist to his lips, kissing the sensitive skin that would wear his bruises in the morning. Harmony drew Jonah’s head to her, rocking him. “You are not leaving me, Jonah Fargo.”
He closed his eyes, allowing Harmony’s comfort to seep into him. He clung to the hope that she still loved him. How could she when this dark abyss quivered and hovered inside him?
Then Harmony was kissing him, taking him away from the terror.
He couldn’t let her be hurt, Jonah thought, easing away gently from her. “No.”
When he stood, chilled deeply without her, Harmony stood very still, fury lashing from her. “I am trying to understand, dear,” she said too patiently. “I believe we shared something quite precious here in the last two days. Though you aren’t what I wanted in my life, it seems I have no choice— because I love you. I believe we are bonded sufficiently.”
“It’s done,” Jonah said, his head aching... more memories, things he’d known would happen... They did happen... He had to keep Harmony from harm.
Harmony swept from the room and frightened for her, Jonah hurried to the bedroom, then her workshop.
“It’s for your good,” he said to the shadows, her white cotton robe catching the moonlight like fear in the night.
“Really? Listen carefully, Jonah. I am not removed so easily from your hard times. When we met— when you were determined to have mind-blanking sex with June Fields— I saw you and a woman inside a flame, mating, burning, bonding forever with your bodies, your hearts....”
Harmony took a deep breath and whirled away, her hand gripping Therapy’s horn, her eyes glistening damply. “And that, Jonah, is what I saw… what you saw when I gave you my necklace... and why you will not— repeat—will not leave me now. Until we are finished. Until the proverbial last note of the overweight lady’s song is finished. Because Jonah, I am that woman and nothing matters but you and me— together.”
Harmony shimmered in the dim light, her hair flowing around her. Jonah realized she was fighting now, struggling to hold him with her and yet fearing he’d moved away. He touched the cupid pendant nestled on his chest. He remembered how she had given herself to him and the heat of their passion.
He’d seen those images, the man and the woman bonding, moving together in the flames, and he saw Harmony now, fighting for their love. “I can’t understand what is happening to me, Harmony. I don’t want it.”
“You have it. Jonah, you are a seer. Those images you saw before the events—”
“You’re not giving an inch, are you?” he asked roughly as he tried to find reason in the way they shared images of the man and the woman making love, more than love, deeper than love. He’d seen the woman place her necklace on him, claiming him for her own.
You are not leaving me now. Not like this, a feminine voice declared firmly, and Jonah sensed the pain running through Harmony, her uncertainties, her love for him. He needed her again, to have the other part of his soul and heart joined to him, making him whole…
Their eyes locked across the distance of the workshop and Jonah sensed Harmony’s body trembling.
“You may go now,” she stated suddenly, fierce pride sweeping through her as she gripped the metal monster.
“It’s pretty hard to move when you’re holding that horn, rosebud,” Jonah stated unevenly, wanting desperately to hold her, to cherish her.
“Well, then, buckaroo, you’ll just have to come and get me, because I am not letting go.”
Jonah walked slowly toward her. Without releasing her gaze, he took her hand from Therapy and lifted it to his lips.
“Hold on, rosebud,” he whispered, stepping into Harmony’s scents and warmth. “But you don’t need this any longer,” he said as he unfastened her bracelet and placed it over Therapy’s horn.
“Jonah, you don’t know. Without my alarm system, I could be dangerous, open to any sort of impulses. You might not be safe.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds good,” he whispered, lowering his lips to Harmony’s as he lifted her into his arms.
~**~
Two weeks later, July spread over the dry, ageless Montana land. Jonah worked every waking hour, trying to reclaim Fargo land for wheat farming.
While Harmony didn’t like him leaving, she understood that he needed to work out his fears, to control and seek what was in him.
Had his Blackfoot grandmother given him a psychic heritage? According to the paranormal books that Harmony had boxed and plopped on his doorstep, whatever was humming in him could be recognized as psychic abilities.
The hard physical work was good, cleansing him, but the nights too long without Harmony. When he was whole— understanding what had or could happen to him— he’d claim her. Jonah didn’t want to be a man needing her strength, a lover too weak to care for her.
“Pride,” she had stated flatly when he told her he was leaving, but that she was a part of him. “Pride and arrogance. You are in for real trouble now,” she had muttered against his shoulder where she had been crying.
I love you, he had thought, wedging the thought firmly in his mind. You are in my heart.
“Oh, sure. In your heart,” she had repeated, holding him closer.
I have to work this out.
Work it out here, with me.
“Harmony?” he had asked shakily. “What is happening between us?”
Figure it out, she thought grumpily.
I’ll be coming for you—
Harmony had frowned at him. You can’t expect me to... Oh, sure. Ugh. You woman, me man. That cowboy logic went out at the turn of the century. Let me help you, Jonah...
No.
Her dark gold eyes, dimmed by tears had flashed up at him, his tiger woman. We are not pleased, she thought royally, then blinked when he rubbed her nose with his.
“Ohh!” Harmony had exclaimed in a frustrated tone. She had thrown her arms around him for a kiss to last until their time came again.
Jonah had missed her like he missed a portion of
his heart. He understood the bonding and the mating terms that had been circling him, humming through his life. Yet the crying hadn’t stopped, and each time he stared at the doll, waiting for answers, he ached more.
Just a doll, the lacy material wrinkled and worn from his handling. A little baby doll... He stroked the gown and whispered, “Shh, Grace. Go to sleep.”
He sensed the cupids guarded him as he searched the shadows. The warmth of Harmony’s love surrounded him, her metal monsters gleaming in the sun.
Harmony’s royal “we” weren’t happy lately. In the two weeks since they’d made love— when June slid into July— she’d fretted about him and he’d ached for her. Very little kept Jonah from bringing her to Fargo land. But he would not wake up in terror beside her, bruising her fragile, pale skin while he dealt with his shifting mind.
The Fascinating Homes lady reporter was determined that he was hiding a fabulous decor in his home and had crawled through his open window one day.
Jonah had sensed her disappointment and received an “I am aghast, simply aghast” reading from her.
Lucky was busy with June and Shrimp had deserted him completely, though she was glad to see him when he dropped by Roderegas’s statue. Lately, one of the farmers had parked his pickup near her post and a handsome male collie had been eyeing her....
The land had waited. Jonah had felt it rise up to greet and to challenge him that first morning; he’d settle his life, work through his problems and then he’d claim Harmony, his other half.
The middle of July heat soaked into Main Street’s brick buildings and spilled onto the shaded street.
Jonah, dirty and sweaty, drove into town for a tractor part. He parked his pickup beside Harmony’s on the street. She emerged from a store, dressed in her work clothes and boots, and promptly leveled a glare at him. So. Happy are we?
Jonah smiled at her. I’m making progress. That spy you sent, the Fascinating Homes lady crawled through my bedroom window.
Humph. With my cupids, you have plenty of company. Harmony tossed her head and swept by him to open her truck door. Out of my way, Fargo—you hardheaded, swaggering, grinning, wicked—
Mmm. I love it when you talk like that, little sweetheart.
She stood between their trucks with him, so close, he could smell her skin, see those wide amber eyes open to his soul.
“How are you, Jonah?” she whispered, running her fingers lightly over his cheekbones, his tense jaw and across his lips.
“Missing you. Wanting you,” he returned, turning to place a kiss in her palm.
She closed her fingers over the kiss and brought it to her heart. “Keep safe, my love.”
“Harmony?” He had to know...
“Yes?”
“Are we talking aloud or in our minds?”
I love you, Jonah. Keep safe, she repeated without moving her lips.
The next day, Jonah— again dirty and sweaty— was talking to Lucky about new machinery when Harmony emerged from a store. She began to walk toward them, her hair flowing out wildly, catching the sunlight in gold sparks.
I’d like to make love to you right now, Jonah thought, focusing his thoughts on Harmony.
No way. You’re working things out. Remember? she shot back, her amber eyes lighting furiously as she came closer. Don’t try those little happy caresser feelers on me, Jonah. I’m not in the mood.
I’d do a lot more than that if I weren’t so dirty.
To test his thoughts— or were they hers?— Jonah concentrated on Harmony’s breasts, shielded beneath her loose, flowing shirt. He thought of the rosebud tips, the soft pale round—
You will not touch me, Jonah Fargo. I can’t be available for your every little feeler whimsy, just when you are in the mood. You know very well that you could be exploring your powers while we are in the same vicinity. All this... self-imposed study without me is really steaming me. We are not pleased, she thought, using the royal “we.”
I’m working on my program, rosebud. I have a real problem concentrating on mind matters when you’re around.
Harmony’s temper flashed back at him: You’re working on your pride. I don’t think I like you very much right now. Get lost, you jerk. There’s two of us in this relationship. Or supposed to be. When you figure that out, we’ll chat.
He focused on her sweetness, on the heat that had welcomed him. Harmony’s lips parted in a gasp as she closed her eyes and stood still, her face flushing to his delight.
Her amber eyes flashed open. You big buckaroo! Lay off!
Make me. Because he was happy and in love, Jonah tilted back his hat, hooked his thumbs in his belt and stood grinning down at her.
You want to play rough, do you? Harmony frowned and studied him, from hat to boots. Jonah shivered, as in his mind, her hands were exploring him, finding the cupid buried beneath his shirt, then sweeping lower.
His chest tightened as he sensed her open lips heating it, her teeth nibbling on him tantalizingly.
Rough? Do ‘we’ call that rough? he thought, inhaling sharply as Harmony walked closer.
She stopped between their trucks and looked up at him. I told you that without my bracelet I will not be held responsible. Get out of my way.
Jonah tilted his head and grinned. You’re an exciting tiger woman when you’re riled, Miss Harmony.
She flicked him a glance. Jonah was getting too good at telepathy and other things. Trust me, cowboy. You really don’t want to try my powers now. You’d better get yourself to someplace safe and take that gorgeous mustache with you.
Anytime you’re ready, Jonah thought with a wide grin, and wiggled his mustache as he imagined her soft stomach.
Harmony inhaled and placed her hand over her stomach, pressing her loose shirt and jeans tightly against her body.
You asked for this. Harmony’s dark gold eyes were enormous in her lightly tanned face. Her body warmed his, that soft womanly scent swirling up and around him in the bright July sunlight. Jonah swallowed tightly as he saw the image of her body ease into his, press her breasts against him and settle over him intimately.
He locked his boots to the street and held his breath as Harmony made hot, quick sensory love to him. Jonah leaned against the pickup for support and pictured his body clenching, his hands, his mouth filling with Harmony’s sweetness.
We’re standing here between two pickups in broad daylight. You are not making love to me now, rosebud. If you are, I’m too dirty...
Aren’t I? This is for your own good, Jonah. Well, maybe mine, too. Don’t count on farm dirt to keep you safe from me. So hold on to something real and do it fast, because I can’t stop now.
His image of Harmony moved strongly over him, on him, taking everything...
In his mouth, her skin tasted like rose petals, her pulse meeting his as their passion grew and burst.
Jonah gripped his pickup’s door handle as he saw brilliant colors, his mind and body arching into Harmony’s, and gave himself to her...
Jonah sagged against the pickup, drained.
Then she was kissing him, bringing his head to her breasts to comfort him. Or was she?
When he summoned the strength to blink, Harmony was fully dressed, straightening her hair and trembling. “So that’s how it is, buckaroo,” she murmured briskly, getting into her pickup. “Get used to it. You wanted me not to wear my bracelet and you deserved every—”
“I sure did, rosebud,” Jonah managed to say as he leaned heavily against the pickup. “You just keep that bracelet off when you’re around me, because the next time you pull a stunt like this, I’ll be ready.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Really? Remember, buckaroo, I’ve had time to adjust to my powers. This is a dimension where big muscles and cocky grins don’t cut it.”
“I’ll get the hang of it,” he promised darkly and resented his weakness now.
“Anytime, buckaroo,” she challenged, reversing the pickup to pull away. “By the way, I love you.”
Jonah
gripped his door handle and hoped his legs wouldn’t collapse. Shrimp sent him a knowing grin and Lucky appeared on the sidewalk.
“Hot, isn’t it?” Lucky asked conversationally around the toothpick in his mouth. He looked at Jonah. “Man. Don’t you look gooney. Real lathered up and sort of weak. Is the heat getting to you, sweetheart?”
~**~
Chapter Eleven
“Stubborn cowboy. An unfit host for my sweet little cupids,” Harmony muttered darkly. She skidded the pickup to a stop and ran inside her house.
Without Jonah, her warm, comfortable home seemed empty. “He deserved that for testing me right there on the street. For taking my bracelet off. It’s open season on Jonah now. I didn’t want him, but I love him and that’s how it is. Trust me to fall in love with an unpredictable man, whose pride won’t let me help him through his dark times.”
Harmony hugged herself and stared out into the golden wheat fields baking in the July sunset.
Jonah had looked tired, dirty and sweaty, his work clothes tattered and grimy with oil. His unshaven cheeks were hollow, and the shadows under his eyes told an aching tale.
Harmony’s fingers bit into her upper arms as she realized how proud this man was, how he wanted to protect her and understand himself. She had to give him time... but that did not make the waiting easier.
~**~
The last day of July, Harmony stormed into the post office for her mail. She’d spent too many aching, sleepless hours waiting for Jonah.
Very little kept her from vamping him... from riding to his ranch and loving him.
The Fascinating Homes reporter had insinuated that she and Jonah were very good friends; according to the “city blonde,” Jonah would be letting the reporter decorate his home soon.
Jealousy wasn’t a hair bow that Harmony wore well. Here she was, already done sorting through her Mark inhibitions, and waiting for Jonah to make his appearance. Who did Jonah think he was anyway?
She crushed the envelopes in her mailbox as she began to draw them out. She began planning how she would make Jonah pay for his too-long interlude. She refused to be reasonable on this point.
