by Marin Thomas
“I’m glad your father’s found someone he cares for,” his aunt said. “I’ll speak with Royce and Harlan. Maybe they can pick up some of the slack.”
Royce and Harlan already did the work of four men and it was hardly fair to ask more of them without offering a pay raise. Beau doubted his father considered how his actions affected others.
Aunt Sarah nudged his side. “Speaking of old and new flames…”
No way was Beau sticking around for an inquisition about his relationship with Sierra. “Gotta run. Thanks for the cookies.”
“Chicken!” The accusation chased Beau through the house and out the front door.
* * *
“SIERRA, MAY I speak with you for a moment?”
Most days, her aunt waited until ten before making an appearance in the diner, but the clock on the wall read eight-thirty. Sierra didn’t mind the interruption, but this morning the diner was busier than usual because members of the high school booster club were conducting their monthly meeting over breakfast. She ushered her aunt behind the register. “What is it?”
“Please don’t be mad at me, but I took the liberty of scheduling you an eye appointment with Dr. Ryder for 10:00 a.m. today.”
Shocked, Sierra said, “I can’t leave in the middle of all this—” she spread her arms wide “—craziness.”
“I asked Karla to cover for you and I’ll do my best to help.”
As if on cue, the diner door opened and Karla waltzed in. She smiled at Sierra then disappeared into the kitchen. “You shouldn’t have called Dr. Ryder’s office and—”
“If I had left it up to you, you’d have never made the appointment.”
Lest she become the subject of gossip for the remainder of the day, Sierra lowered her voice. “I’m not going.”
“You have to.”
Embarrassed by her childish behavior, yet too scared to care what her aunt thought of her, she whispered, “You can’t make me.” She wasn’t ready to face reality.
“Beau’s waiting outside for you.”
She spun toward the window. Beau leaned a sexy hip against the grille of his truck and waved. “How could you, Aunt Jordan?”
“How could I what, dear?”
“Ask Beau to drive me?” He was the last person she wanted with her when the doctor conveyed the bad news.
“I thought you two were friends.”
“We are, but he doesn’t have time for this kind of thing.”
“Friends make time for each other. If he hadn’t been able to accompany you today I’m sure he would have said so.”
Sierra glanced at Beau and automatically her fingers pressed against her mouth as she recalled the victory kiss he’d claimed after the rodeo last weekend. She’d gone to bed every night since dreaming about that kiss. “Fine. I’ll go.”
She escaped upstairs to the apartment. After powdering her nose and applying lipstick, she collected her coat and purse and marched through the diner and out the front door.
“I’m sorry my aunt put you on the spot and asked you to drive me into Billings. I’m capable of getting there and back on my own.”
“I know that.”
“Then why did you—”
“Because I’ll take any excuse to be with you.” Beau’s slow, easy smile warmed her blood even as she thought his words weren’t something a friend would say.
What did it matter? After today, Beau would no longer be interested in friendship much less anything else.
Chapter Seven
What was taking so long?
Almost two hours had passed since Beau sat down in Dr. Ryder’s waiting room and Sierra had been whisked away by a nurse. In that entire time, no other patients had arrived or left the office. Aside from the receptionist at the check-in desk and the nurse who’d escorted Sierra to the exam room, the clinic remained eerily quiet.
What kind of eye appointment took two hours? Had the doctor performed some kind of procedure on Sierra’s eyes? Beau rose from his chair and paced the professionally decorated room, stopping to stare at the wilderness painting hanging on the wall. The grizzly bear in the picture made him guess the location was northwest Montana or Glacier National Park. Beau had been to the famous park once with his brother and father, but a spring snowstorm had forced them out after only a few days in the area.
Beau’s stomach growled and he continued pacing. He was on his third lap around the room when voices drifted down the hallway. A moment later Sierra appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were puffy—had she been crying? He moved closer and brushed the pad of his thumb against her cheek. “Those beautiful baby blues are okay, aren’t they?”
Tears pooled in her eyes and Beau panicked. “We’re out of here.” He escorted her from the office and straight into the elevator across the hall. They rode in silence to the lobby then stepped outside into the chilly air and bright sunlight. Whatever had taken place inside the exam room hadn’t been good and Beau floundered, wondering what to do first—ask questions or give Sierra time to pull herself together? He voted for the second option.
“Let’s grab a bite to eat.” He helped her into the truck then drove to a Mexican restaurant called the Cantina, which looked like a dive but had excellent food and a cozy, dark atmosphere that allowed for plenty of privacy. Beau glanced at Sierra, but she sat in stony silence. Feeling helpless, he reached across the seat and took her hand. She surprised him when she threaded her fingers through his and squeezed.
The strong urge to protect Sierra proved to Beau that his feelings for her were deepening quickly and he told himself to proceed with caution. He was under a lot of pressure—granted it was self-imposed—but he had to remain focused on his goal to win the Bash if he intended to begin next year’s bull-riding season on a positive note.
When they entered the restaurant, he asked the hostess to seat them at a table in the corner. A waitress delivered tortilla chips and salsa then took their drink orders, promising to return in five minutes.
“The chicken enchiladas and pork tamales are good,” Beau said.
Sierra didn’t open her menu. “You pick for me.”
The waitress set their drinks on the table then tapped a pen against her order pad. Beau chose the enchilada dinners for both of them. Left alone while they waited for their food, he hoped Sierra would tell him what the doctor said, and her continued silence tied his gut in knots. She looked devastated and he wanted to hug her. Had her vision deteriorated to the point where she could no longer drive? Or had the doctor told her that contacts weren’t an option anymore and she had to wear glasses from now on?
“You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m a good listener,” he said.
“I’m ashamed to admit I’d hoped if I ignored the symptoms, the disease would go away.”
“What disease?”
“Fuchs Endothelial Dystrophy. The cornea swells, which causes problems like tunnel vision, glaring, sometimes a halo effect and blurriness.” She sighed. “I just didn’t want to believe I’d inherited the same disease as my aunt.”
Beau’s lungs tightened. “Jordan’s…blind.”
“Blindness is the final stage of the disease.”
Stunned, Beau asked, “There’s no cure?”
“A corneal transplant might be an option down the road.”
The band squeezing his chest loosened. There was hope. “Are there medications that slow the progression?”
“No. As the disease worsens the doctor prescribes medicated drops and ointments to ease the pain.”
Their meals arrived and they ate in silence, Beau barely tasting the food. He wanted to slay Sierra’s dragon, battle the disease for her, but he couldn’t. The powerlessness he felt at not being able to protect someone he cared about was new to Beau and he didn’t like it. Not one frickin’ bit.
He opened his mouth to tell Sierra there were worse things in the world than going blind but reconsidered. He’d tried that speech when bullies had teased Duke because of his stuttering, and all he�
��d gotten for his effort had been a punch in the gut from his brother.
Wanting to cheer her up, Beau suggested, “Why don’t we stay in Billings and shop for Christmas gifts.”
“I’m not in the mood.” Sierra understood exactly what Beau was trying to do—take her mind off the doctor’s diagnosis. She’d known for a while now what the official verdict would be, but she’d clung to a smidgeon of hope that maybe…just maybe her vision problems had been the result of some other issue that was curable. Fear suddenly gave way to anger—a deep, burning rage that made her want to raise her fists toward the heavens and scream at the unfairness of life.
“Have you been to the movies lately?”
As Sierra stared at Beau’s mouth, the raw fury that had control of her body melted into a yearning urgency that left her breathless. Images of her and Beau making love spun through her mind, feeding an overpowering desire to live in the moment and forget about tomorrow. Embracing the newfound feeling of recklessness, Sierra vowed to live life to the fullest while she still had her sight—starting today.
There were so many things she’d dreamed of doing but the clock was ticking on her eyesight. Right then she decided to create her own personal bucket list, and who better than Beau to help her kick off her pledge to live in the moment? She reached beneath the table and caressed his thigh.
“There is something I’d like to do.” She leaned close, her breast bumping his arm. “Let’s get a motel room.”
Beau stared, dumbstruck, and Sierra suppressed a giggle. The thought of making love with Beau felt right and good, and Sierra refused to consider the consequences. She wanted to lose herself in Beau and live as if there were no tomorrow…no next week…no next month. No next year. Before Beau had a chance to respond to her suggestion, the waitress arrived with their check. He paid cash for their meal, then escorted her outside and straight to his truck. His silence continued as he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles whitened.
She shifted closer and played with a strand of his hair. “Please, Beau.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“We should.” The longing in his gaze made her tremble. Why was he fighting his feelings? She nuzzled his neck, flicking her tongue against his warm flesh. He smelled like sandalwood and musk. Sierra’s excitement fizzled when Beau started the truck and headed north on the highway.
The trip to Roundup was the longest of her life. Beau pulled into the parking lot behind the diner shortly after 9:00 p.m. and insisted on escorting her up to the apartment. Sierra wasn’t raising the white flag yet. She veered away from the fire escape and entered the diner through the delivery door. Standing on the threshold she faced Beau.
Ever the gentleman, he leaned in to kiss her cheek, but Sierra turned her face and their mouths bumped. Flinging her arms around his neck, she kissed Beau as if she were marching off to war. She slipped her thigh between his legs and pressed herself against him, rejoicing in the hardness that nudged her hip. She knew the moment she’d won—he grasped her face and thrust his tongue inside her mouth. While tongues dueled, Beau cupped her breasts, squeezing softly.
Please, Beau…for tonight be the bright light in my life.
He inched her farther into the kitchen then shut the door, the quiet click of the lock echoing through the room. The soft glow of the security lights in the dining room spilled beneath the kitchen door, outlining Beau’s body. The thrill of a secret encounter surged through Sierra, feeding the reckless frenzy inside her. Beau removed her coat, tossing it to the floor. Sierra kicked off her shoes and helped Beau out of his jacket. Shirts followed.
“This is crazy.” His fingers released the hook on her bra, then his hand cupped her bare breast and brought it to his mouth.
“Don’t stop.”
Beau tugged Sierra’s slacks off and lifted her onto the stainless-steel countertop. “Are you protected?” he asked.
“No,” she huffed in his ear. “Please tell me you have a condom.”
“My wallet.” While Beau kissed a path down her neck, Sierra reached behind him and pulled the wallet from his pants pocket.
There was no turning back now.
* * *
CRAP. HAD THEY really made love on the countertop in the diner’s kitchen? Even as Beau struggled to comprehend what had just transpired between him and Sierra, he couldn’t resist nibbling her ear. When he pulled back and gazed at her face, her mouth widened in a satisfied smile then she playfully pushed him away and buttoned her blouse before grabbing her slacks from the floor. Jeans bunched around his ankles he turned his back and straightened his own clothes. He’d never done anything like this before and didn’t know what the heck to say.
Sierra, I’m sorry I let things get out of hand? Or what he really wanted to say…Sierra, let’s do that again.
Shoot, she was the one who engineered this…this…tryst. He’d tried to be noble and resist her advances, but he was just a guy—a guy who’d been fantasizing about making love to Sierra for months.
She cleared her throat and he faced her, relieved she smiled. “We should talk about this,” he said.
“No worries, Beau. I don’t expect things to change between us.”
She didn’t? Why the hell not? “I don’t understand.”
“People have sex all the time. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
A queasy feeling settled in the bottom of his gut. He hadn’t a clue what was going through Sierra’s mind. Maybe he should leave. They both needed time to absorb what had happened between them.
“You’re okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” She unlocked the door and stood back.
He slipped on his coat. “You’re sure—”
“Positive.” She held out his wallet.
When his boots hit the pavement, she said, “Good night” and shut the door in his face.
What the hell? Beau had the weirdest feeling Sierra had just used him for sex.
* * *
AFTER BEAU LEFT, Sierra washed up at the kitchen sink, wiped off the counter with disinfectant spray—twice—then made her way up the back staircase to the apartment. When she opened the door she was caught by surprise—her aunt and Beau’s father were locked in a passionate embrace. “Oops.” Sierra retreated into the stairwell. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I should be going,” Joshua said.
After a few seconds, Sierra entered the apartment. She offered an apologetic smile but Joshua’s gaze skirted her face. “There’s a quarantined bull at the ranch I need to check on.”
Jordan grasped Joshua’s hand and she followed him into the kitchen. Sierra thought it was sweet that the older couple always held hands. After Joshua shrugged on his coat, her aunt lifted her face and there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation before Joshua kissed her.
“Good night, Sierra,” he said.
“’Night, Joshua.”
After another quick kiss, Joshua left and Aunt Jordan closed the door. “Sierra?”
“In the living room.”
Jordan sat down on the sofa.
Sierra would have preferred to put off this conversation until tomorrow and retreat to her bedroom where her memory could relive her passionate lovemaking with Beau, but her aunt had waited all day to hear the doctor’s diagnosis.
“You were right,” Sierra said.
“How far has the disease progressed?”
“Far enough that I’ve been warned never to drive at night.” As if she didn’t already know that.
“Did Dr. Ryder give you any idea when you’ll…”
Sierra said the word blind in her head but still refused to accept the offensive word. “Dr. Ryder said there was no way to determine when I’d lose my sight.” But he had predicted that it wouldn’t be for many years and Sierra was grateful for that small blessing. “There’s a chance that I might be a candidate for a cornea transplant.”
“Then there’s hope.”
Yes, but Sierra wasn’t wasting another day waiting ar
ound for hope. From now on, she intended to live each day to the fullest.
“Now that you have an official diagnosis, you can prepare yourself.”
How did anyone map out a life in the dark? “I don’t care to think about that right now, Aunt Jordan.”
“You need to plan for the future, dear. There are ways you can make the transition easier.”
Sierra appreciated her aunt’s advice, and in due time she’d devise a battle strategy, but not now. “Forget about me, let’s talk about you,” Sierra said. “How’s your love life?”
A soft smile flirted with the corner of her aunt’s mouth. “Joshua and I realized that neither of us has ever stopped caring for each other.”
“But you married Uncle Bob.”
“Yes, and I loved Bob, but when I went off to college I left a piece of my heart with Joshua. Every now and then through the years I thought of him and wondered what would have happened if I’d remained in Roundup and married him.”
“You wouldn’t have become a dancer or earned a college degree or traveled the world with Uncle Bob.”
“That’s true. And I credit your uncle with helping me conquer my fear of going blind. With his guidance, I remained independent despite the loss of my eyesight.”
“How did he help you?”
“Because of your uncle’s military background, he viewed my eventual blindness as a war—one he determined I’d win. If not for his insistence that I learn to fend for myself and do everyday tasks without his help, I wouldn’t be able to get around on my own as much as I do.”
“You don’t believe that if you’d married Joshua he’d have helped you live a fulfilling life?”
“Joshua would have become impatient with me and stepped in to help when he shouldn’t have. I’d have become too dependent on him.” Jordan sighed. “Your uncle was a soldier. Not even my tears or pleading for help swayed him to give in to me.”
“Sounds like Uncle Bob used the tough-love approach.”
“Because of Bob’s determination, I’ve enjoyed a rich, full life since I lost my sight.”
