by Debra Cowan
Hardy M. Fine. Matt touched the smoothly finished wood. “I wish my name was on here. If I hadn’t been such a bastard, maybe it could’ve been.”
Beside him, she went still. Did she hate the idea? His heart sank as he frowned down at the marker. “You made yourself a target for scandal and left me out of it.”
“I actually thought about giving him your last name.”
Surprised, his gaze sliced to hers.
“But when I first returned to Whirlwind, I was angry. At the time, I didn’t think you wanted anyone to know you were his father. You didn’t respond to my letter about the miscarriage, so I assumed you didn’t want to claim him.”
“That’s not how I felt.” His voice was hoarse, his chest tight.
“I know that now,” she said softly.
He stared for a moment at the baby’s marker. “We could have a new one made, of stone. Not to put my name on it, just to have a more permanent one. I bet Ef could do it.”
“That’s sweet.”
“So, you wouldn’t mind?”
“No, and I don’t mind putting your name on there either.” She slipped her arm through his and hugged it to her. “Anyone who’s seen the marker now knows I was expecting. They would also know you were his father.”
They stood there in silence for a long moment squinting into the glare of the day’s last light.
The sunset painted the prairie a red-gold; a brighter orange slanted across the wooden symbol.
The fact that Annalise was willing to let Matt add his name to their child’s marker gave him hope that perhaps they had a chance at a future together, but he didn’t want to ask. Not yet.
Partly because he didn’t want to pressure her and partly because he was afraid she might say she had decided they should go their separate ways.
“I’ll talk to Ef about the stone,” Matt said.
Annalise nodded, leaving her hand tucked into the crook of his arm as they walked out of the cemetery.
They moved down the rise and angled behind the livery toward her clinic, her skirts brushing against his trousers. On the soft night air, he caught the clean scent of primroses. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere and he wondered what she was thinking about.
“I won’t be around for a few days,” he said.
She glanced up. “Why not?”
“We’re moving the cattle to the south pasture.”
“All right.”
Disappointment stabbed him. Her easy acceptance suggested she was nowhere near where he was in their relationship. Hell, would she even notice or care that he wasn’t here?
They reached her clinic and after she unlocked the door, he opened it and followed her inside.
“Do you have any idea how long it might be before you’re back in town?”
He shrugged, closing the door. Late-day sunlight spilled through the window. “Maybe as long as a week. Depends on the weather and if there’s any trouble.”
“I’ve gotten used to seeing you more often.” She reached up to remove the dark-blue bowler hat that matched the stripe in her dainty pink dinner dress.
His gaze roamed over her full breasts, the gentle flare of her hips silhouetted by the fiery gold light of the setting sun. As usual, the sight of her set off a low throb in his blood.
Tendrils escaped from her upswept hair and teased the velvety flesh of her neck. He wanted to put his mouth there. Or anywhere, he amended as his attention moved down the buttons of her fitted bodice. “Matt?”
“Hmm?” His focus shifted from her chest to her face.
She smiled at him, a soft smile that hinted at something besides desire. “Thanks for giving me the time I asked for to decide about us.”
He stiffened. This sounded like a lead-in to something. Was she going to tell him that she wanted even more time? He hoped not, but he could do it. He’d been doing it for what felt like a damn long time.
“When you’re ready, I’ll be here. No matter how long it takes.”
She was quiet for a moment. “It’s meant a lot that you haven’t pressured me even though I imagine it’s sometimes been difficult.”
This sounded a lot like goodbye. “Annalise—”
“Let me finish.” She closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his chest, her green eyes searching his. “What you said earlier about wanting your name on the baby’s marker meant a lot to me, as did the fact that you asked about replacing it.”
Covering her small hand with his, he asked hoarsely, “But?”
“While we were in the cemetery, I realized something.”
What? That they were finished? His heart hammered hard.
Before he could speak, she put a finger against his lips. “You’ve been supportive, strong. Dependable.”
“You sound like you’re describin’ a horse.” He couldn’t keep the edge of frustration out of his voice.
Her mouth curved in a smile. “You’ve changed. Enough to admit your mistakes and enough not to repeat them. I know it’s been hard on you yet you haven’t pressured me. You said you didn’t blame me for losing the baby and I see now that’s true.”
“You’ve been coming to terms with a lot.”
“Yes.”
“So, what are you sayin’? Are you trying to get shed of me?”
“No!” She slid her arms around his waist.
Okay, this was a good sign. He put his arms around her, too. Beneath his hold, he felt her tight waist and the heat of her body warming his hands.
“I believe you intend to stick by me this time.”
Well. At her unexpected words, he stared down at her.
She drew back, her green eyes dark with concern. “Have I waited too long? Have you changed your mind about us?”
“I haven’t changed my mind.”
“I want us to try again.” She stroked the dark hair showing in the V of his shirt.
Something big and hot unfurled in his chest.
“I’m sorry for doubting you.”
He grinned, sliding his hands up and down her arms. “Don’t be sorry for finally coming to your senses.”
She laughed, pressing herself right up against him. “I want you.”
The feel of her sleek curves had tension coiling inside him. It took a moment for his common sense to work its way around the hard, hot want pounding inside him.
He held her shoulders, searching her delicate features. There was no mistaking the earnestness there. Or the heat in her eyes. “Is it because we just visited the cemetery?”
“What do you mean?”
“Things were pretty emotional back there. Losing the baby still hurts.” Maybe he was an idiot for even asking, but if all she wanted was sex, he had to know. “Do you only want me for comfort, like the first time? Because that’s not what I want.”
“No.” Taking his hand, she tugged him into the shadowed corner behind the stairs where they were hidden from anyone who might come in or see from the porch.
She didn’t want him to have any doubts about why she wanted to be with him. Staring into his blue eyes, her fingers skimmed his bristly jaw. “It’s not about the baby or the past or for comfort. It’s because I want to be with you. This is about us, you and me.”
“This is a real reconciliation?”
“Yes, if you still want one.”
“I do.” His eyes flashed and warmth curled low in her belly.
She smiled. “You’ve been such a gentleman. Very patient.”
“Not anymore,” he growled, backing her into the pine wall.
He crushed his mouth to hers, thumbing open the buttons on her bodice. He folded back the fabric, pushing it to her waist. Her breasts swelled over the top of her corset and he muttered something. He smoothed one hand over the satiny fullness while his other hand undid the hooks down the front.
He tossed it aside and untied her chemise, pushing the loose undergarment off her shoulders. He stared down at her with a muscle clenching in his jaw. The fierce possessiveness on his face had
Annalise’s breath jamming in her lungs. She slid her hands under his shirt, stroking his supple skin, the long line of his spine.
He reached back and pulled the garment over his head, dropping it on the floor.
Bending, he ran his tongue around one nipple then closed his mouth over the taut rosy flesh. She made a sound deep in her throat, sliding her hand down his muscled stomach to unfasten his trousers. She released the last button on his pants and reached inside, curling her hand around him.
His muscles clenched and he kissed her harder, deeper. “Now,” he grated out. “Here.”
He pushed her skirts up, his hand going between her legs to cup her through her drawers.
She pressed into his touch, whispering his name. That seemed to calm something inside him because he slowed. He dragged his mouth to her neck and gently nipped the sensitive spot where her shoulder met her neck. He worked his way slowly, too slowly down her throat to the valley of her breasts.
She shivered. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not. Just want to enjoy it a little longer.”
A finger delved into her silky heat, his thumb pressing the knot of nerves there. “Oh!”
He watched as she broke apart, the tenderness in his eyes making her knees weak.
Over the past weeks, he’d gotten past her guard. She’d enjoyed their time together and seeing him with baby Tannis had turned her to mush. She couldn’t help but be moved by it, couldn’t help seeing that he had changed.
The only time she’d wavered had been at the Founder’s Day celebration when he’d started talking about his father and wanting her to discourage J.T. from the surgery. She wished the older man would talk to Matt and Russ about it, but he was doing things in his own time, his own way.
If pushed, Annalise would have to tell Matt she couldn’t discourage his father if the man decided he wanted the surgery, but he hadn’t brought it up again.
And that had nothing to do with this.
When Matt had told her how much he regretted not having his name on their child’s marker, something had settled inside her and she’d known she was ready. At some point, she had begun to trust him again.
She wanted to be closer to him in every way. Reaching between them, she urged him to her, melting at the feel of his hot rigid flesh against her slick softness.
In the dusky gold-tinted light, she could see his blue eyes glitter with emotion and her heart ached.
Holding her gaze, he lifted her and slid inside, deep and sure, then began to move. She met every stroke of his body. His hair-dusted chest heaved against her smooth one. For the first time since she had returned, she felt as though she were really home.
She gave all of herself to him, held nothing back. The raw vulnerability on his face made her realize he’d been holding back, too. She saw a burning need in his eyes, the same need that burned in her blood.
It had always been this man for her. It always would be.
He steadily drove her up a dizzying peak. When she felt the tiny urgent pulses deep inside, his muscles bunched and he went over the edge with her.
With his whole weight pressing into her, his head rested beside hers on the wall. His breathing was ragged, his flesh slick on hers.
She moved her hands over the tough sinew of his shoulders, his granite-hard arms, and held him close. The coarse surface of the wall scratched her back; her hair had fallen down. She didn’t care.
He shifted, murmuring in her ear, “I missed you, Angel.”
Tears stung her eyes and she clasped him tighter. Finally, they had found their way back to each other.
Matt hadn’t been able to make himself leave until after midnight. Two days later, he was still thinking about their reconciliation, smiling about it even though he was riding the back end of a cattle line, moving livestock.
He was hot, sweaty, eating red dust and surrounded by the fecund odor of cow flesh and manure and dirt. He had to pay attention. A calf could wander off or a cow could step in a hole or something could spook the herd.
But Annalise was right there in his mind.
If there were no problems, the cattle would be settled in the south pasture by tonight and tomorrow he’d be able to see her.
They were really together, for good this time. She’d left him in no doubt she was ready and not just physically.
He recalled the unguarded look in her green eyes when they had made love. There had been no hesitation, just openness and love. He’d seen it there. He’d felt it.
In her kiss, in the slide of her silky-soft flesh against his, her slender legs wrapped around his hips, the tight grip of her body.
If he didn’t stop replaying how they’d spent the other night, it would become obvious to everyone that he was thinking about a woman. His woman. She was his. He wanted to make it permanent, he realized.
He could take her to the Fontaine or bring her out to the ranch, to that stretch of land she loved near the big oak tree with the patch of bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush.
They’d wasted enough time. They had resolved their differences about the baby so he couldn’t think of any reason to wait.
The baby. Matt went still inside. Baby. Annalise could be pregnant right now. What if she was?
Had she even wondered? He couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered it until now. The possibility made him want to propose even more.
“Matt! Matt!”
He became aware of someone calling his name and the thunder of hoofbeats at the same time. He turned and saw Cora bent low over her black mare, Prissy, flying across the ground toward him.
Something was wrong. Matt hollered to one of his hands to take over his spot and spun Dove around to head toward Cora.
The older woman reined to a stop in front of him, her black mare jolting to a stop hard enough to dig dirt. “It’s your pa!”
“What’s wrong?”
“The pain is bad.” Her hazel eyes were wide with concern. “He can’t get out of the wheelchair, not onto the bed or the sofa.”
Matt kneed his horse into a flat-out run, Cora’s horse keeping pace with him. They reached the ranch and Matt rode right up to the front porch and jumped down, slapping Dove on the rump to send her toward the corral.
Cora was right behind him, dismounting before he could help her down. He rushed inside, saw his pa in the wheelchair looking as white as death. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth; pain etched his features.
The only other time Matt had seen him in this much pain was the day of the accident that had caused his injury.
“Pa!” He rushed over, not sure what to do.
“Help…me…get to the bed,” J.T. panted, his blue eyes cloudy with agony.
Matt yanked off his leather gloves and jammed them in the pocket of his denims before pushing the chair around the dining table and to the large bedroom on the bottom floor where Pa and Cora had moved after they’d married.
She hurried ahead of them and turned down the bed. Her usually calm features were pinched with worry. Between the two of them, they got the big man into bed.
He groaned, sweat glistening on his craggy face. “That already feels better.”
Cora sat on the edge of the bed, holding tight to his hand. “I’m sending Matt for Annalise.”
J.T. didn’t argue, didn’t even shake his head which told Matt the older man must be hurting like blue blazes.
Cora looked up at Matt. “I’ll stay with him.”
“I’ll be back as quick as I can.” He glanced at J.T. and Cora laid a hand on his arm.
“He’ll be all right,” she mouthed.
He looked into her hazel eyes, so steady, and nodded. He turned on his heel and strode out the door, riding hell bent for Whirlwind.
An hour later, he and Annalise drove into the yard in her buggy. Because the rustlers were still on the loose, he had no intention of letting her travel alone. Later, he would take her back to town, where he’d left his horse. He helped her down and followed her inside.
He and Cora hovered in the bedroom doorway as Annalise examined J.T. More than once he caught himself tapping his fingers against the frame. What did Annalise think?
As she quietly questioned her patient, she turned him so she could reach his back. Despite her careful touch, Matt saw his pa’s fist clench in the white bedsheet. That and the fact that his lips were bloodless were a clear sign his father was in excruciating pain.
The older man continued answering Annalise’s questions. She took a bottle from her satchel and asked Matt to fetch a glass of water. He did, handing it to Cora as Annalise measured an amount of medicine into a spoon then fed it to J.T. Cora held his head as he sipped at the water.
Annalise glanced at them. “It’s morphine. It will ease the pain.”
The tightness across his chest eased as he watched her tend to his father.
“I don’t want to give you too much morphine or you’ll go to sleep and we need to talk.”
The older man nodded. The distress in his face began to ease and Matt drew his first full breath since helping his father into the bed.
Annalise motioned Matt inside. Cora stroked J.T.’s thick shock of silver hair. Annalise placed the medicine bottle on the bureau at the foot of the bed.
Matt crushed his hat in his hands. “Why is the pain so bad? It hasn’t been like this before.”
Her look encompassed him and his stepmother. “The tumor has moved and I think it’s grown.”
“So what do you recommend?” J.T. rasped in a strained voice.
“I think it’s time for the surgery.”
“He’s not considerin’ that anymore,” Matt said. “Are you, Pa?”
The older man winced, asking Annalise, “What are the risks?”
“It could paralyze you.”
“What else?” Cora’s voice shook.
“There’s a chance you might not make it, J.T.”
“How much of a chance?” Matt asked harshly, his gut knotting.
“Your father’s in good health—”
“What are the chances?” he insisted.
She met his gaze. “Fifty-fifty.”
“And if he survived, would he walk again?”
