by Gerri Hill
She found she was blushing profusely as Martha eyed her. She poured coffee, trying to ignore the look she was getting. She had no idea how Martha would take the events of last night, but she didn’t think she would be shocked by them.
“Slept in, did you?” Martha finally asked.
Kerry sipped her coffee and nodded. “Yes. Very tired,” she said.
“Yes. What with the storm and all, must have been hard sleeping. I know it was for me.”
Kerry blushed anew and looked away. “I suppose the nurse told you about Mr. Cartwright?”
“Yes. A blessing, really. Poor man has been suffering for weeks now.” Martha went to refill her own coffee cup. “How did Miss Carson take it?”
“You must know by now that there was no love between them,” she said.
Martha nodded. “Yes. Sad. But why did she come back then?”
“I think she wanted to reconcile with him. I don’t know if she would admit that or not, but I think that was the real reason,” Kerry said. Carson may say for closure, but Kerry really suspected that Carson wanted to reconcile, she just was not able to. Perhaps if her father had been more receptive to it. But he hadn’t been.
“Is she going to make the arrangements?”
“Chance left her instructions. I think the arrangements were already made.”
Martha stared at her again, and Kerry grew uncomfortable under her watchful eyes. She was startled when Martha patted her hand.
“Are you okay this morning?”
Her question was spoken quietly. Kerry didn’t pretend that she didn’t know what Martha was referring to.
“I...I think so, yes,” she said. “This is new for me,” she admitted. “I’m—”
“You don’t have to explain. Not to me.” She moved away then, back to her cutting board. “Cody, however, will probably be surprised.”
Kerry did feel the need to explain. She didn’t want Martha to think she’d just fallen into bed with Carson without so much as a thought given to the consequences.
“Martha, I’m thirty-four years old, never once close to marriage,” she said. “I blamed my choice of career, the constant travel. Truth is, I just never met anyone who I was attracted to. Insanely attracted to.”
“And now you have?”
“Yes. And it isn’t Cody.”
“Well, it’s certainly none of my business,” Martha said. “But, well, it’s been quite fun to watch you two,” she said with a smile.
“And fun to plan your romantic dinner settings?”
“Yes. But when the guys come back, you’ll need to be careful,” she warned. “Even though they are men, I doubt you’ll be able to hide this. It’s written all over your face.”
Kerry blushed again. “I’ll try to be careful,” she said as she put her coffee cup down. “I better go see how Mr. Burris is doing.”
She walked to the bunkhouse, even though it was nearly a half-mile from the ranch house. She needed the time to think. No, she didn’t regret the night—or the morning—but they’d not considered what they would do once the brothers returned. She stopped suddenly, wishing they’d had time to talk. Was she being presumptuous to assume that she and Carson would have more nights like the one they’d just shared? Or was that it? One night together?
No. Even though she had no experience with this, it wasn’t going to be just one night. There was too much attraction, too much heat between them. Even when she dared to dream about meeting someone who set her on fire, she never thought it would be a woman, and she never thought she’d spend an entire night making love, drifting in and out of sleep, only to wake, to touch, to love again.
Her face felt flushed as she continued to the bunkhouse. Was she really the same woman who had begged Carson to touch her? Had she really cried when Carson brought her to orgasm for the first time with her mouth? Had she really held Carson down, her own mouth seeking—and finding—her most secret spots? Was she the one who had begged Carson to take her just one more time, even when her body was spent?
Yes to all of those and more. She didn’t need to analyze it, she didn’t need to make sense of it. What had happened was inevitable.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Carson sat in a chair by the window, feeling terribly out of place as she watched them preparing to take her father’s body. She felt like an outsider. Chance should have been here. They all should have been here. Why did they leave this chore to her? She had no part in the family, yet here she was, watching the proceedings without emotion, without any sentiment.
The men murmured quietly to each other as they lifted the body onto the gurney. The nurse was busily packing her things, her glance going often to her father, then occasionally to Carson. Carson was convinced it was an accusatory glance but she wasn’t certain why. Yes, they’d quarreled each time she’d come to visit him, but not last night. No, last night she’d lied and told him she’d forgiven him. She let him die in peace.
She, however, felt no such peace at his passing. She hadn’t reconciled things with him, she didn’t get the closure she knew she needed. And of course, now she never would.
“Miss Cartwright? We’re ready to take him.” Harry Hanes, the same man who had buried her mother, walked over and held his hand out to her. “Again, my condolences.”
“Thank you,” she said, shaking his hand lightly. “My brothers should be back in a couple of days. Chance will call you.”
“Of course. Is there anything else we can do?”
“No. We’ll be fine. Thank you.”
He nodded politely, then ushered the others from the room, leaving her alone with the nurse. She sighed, her gaze going out the window and to the lake. It was a sunny, warm day, hinting of summer. After last night’s storm and rain, everything looked fresh and new, the grass a little greener this morning.
“I’ll be taking my leave soon. I just have my clothing to pack.”
Carson turned from the window, nodding at the nurse. “Is there any paperwork to finalize? Do we owe you anything? I’m not sure what arrangement you had with them,” she said.
“No. That’s all taken care of.” She didn’t move, and Carson thought there was something else the nurse wanted to say, but she finally just nodded and turned to leave.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Carson said, feeling she needed to offer some appreciation.
The nurse stopped, looking back at her. “I don’t know anything about the circumstances of your estrangement, but I do think he was genuinely sorry for his part of it.”
“Do you?” Carson shook her head. “I think he wanted to be sorry but just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to take any blame.” Carson stood up, not feeling the need to explain any of this to the nurse. “Thank you again,” she said dismissively.
The nurse took her cue and left without another word. Carson knew she’d been rude but really, how dare this stranger try to patch up the broken pieces of their relationship?
She shoved her hands into her pockets, standing again at the window looking out. Was she wrong to hold on to her anger? Wouldn’t it all have been a lot simpler if she could have forgiven him? Truth was, she didn’t want to forgive him. It was almost like there would be emptiness inside of her if her anger, if her sense of abandonment, of rejection, left her. She’d devoted so much energy to hating him. If she gave that up now, what would she have? Would she regain some of the happiness that she’d lost in her youth? Would the bitterness fade? Could she learn to love?
Not surprisingly, Kerry’s face popped into her mind, and she felt an involuntary smile on her lips. She didn’t deny how good it felt to give of herself last night. To truly give. In the past, it was only a sexual act. She never allowed it to turn emotional. In her circle of friends—acquaintances—she’d slept with nearly all of them. That was the reputation she carried with her. They all knew it would be nothing more than sex. It was all Carson wanted, all she needed. She’d learned that from Rebecca.
That’s why i
t surprised her that she wanted more with Kerry. Kerry was nothing like the women she socialized with. Kerry was real. Carson had let her guard down, she’d let it become emotional between them. And when they’d made love, she didn’t hold anything back. She let Kerry see it all—her desire, her need, her longing for the physical and emotional connection she felt with her. Kerry didn’t shy away from it, she embraced it.
And none of that sent Kerry running. Quite the opposite. She’d taken everything Carson offered and gave it back with the same fervor. Oh, no doubt Kerry needed to talk about it. She was probably questioning her sanity right about now. That’s what really scared her the most. Would Kerry come to her senses? Would she think she’d made a huge mistake and keep her distance? What about Cody?
Carson took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. So many questions and none she had answers for. She turned away from the window, her eyes lighting on the empty bed. Again, no sense of loss and a twinge of guilt— but she could not summon up any grief.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kerry fidgeted with her laptop, barely able to concentrate on what Mr. Burris was asking her. She was torn between doing her job and the consuming need she had to see Carson. She knew Carson was alone now, knew they’d left with her father’s body. What was Carson doing, thinking? Did she feel lost? Did she need comfort?
No. Not because of his death. As Carson had said many times, she felt no sorrow or grief. But loneliness? Yes, Kerry thought. It hovered around Carson. She wondered if that wasn’t part of her allure. She appeared aloof and indifferent, but it was only a pretense. She’d let her facade slip with Kerry, showing her the woman behind the mask. Kerry doubted she did that with many people. Had the mask slipped back into place today?
“So? The extra large shower liner?”
Kerry blinked several times, forgetting that Mr. Burris was waiting for her. She glanced at her laptop, happy to see she’d at least gotten as far as pulling up the plans.
“I think so. That only takes a foot away from floor space. Let’s go with it,” she said, giving him a quick, apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m not focused today.”
“It’ll take us a couple of days to get the plumbing run, if you’ve got something else to take care of,” he said, offering her a reprieve. “With Mr. Cartwright and all,” he added.
“I may actually head back to the ranch house to see if there’s something I can do.” She held up her phone. “You’ve got my number.”
She closed her laptop, leaving it in the kitchen. Now, she wished she’d driven instead of walked. She’d just started up the path when she saw Carson strolling down the road toward her. Or toward the stables. Carson seemed to find solace there with Windstorm. So she waited, leaning against the same tree where they’d shared breakfast. She was nervous and wasn’t sure why. Was she afraid Carson would walk past her? Was she afraid the closeness they’d established would be diminished somehow?
But as Carson got closer, close enough to read her eyes, Kerry’s fears were laid to rest. She felt her pulse increase but she didn’t move, presenting a relaxed demeanor as she rested against the tree.
Carson stopped in front of her, and Kerry saw the questions in her eyes. Of course there would be. She didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her earlier that Carson must have her own fears. Kerry shoved off the tree, stepping close to Carson, letting her hand find Carson’s.
“Okay?” she asked, knowing the question was ambiguous.
Carson nodded. “You?”
Kerry squeezed her hand and gave a slight smile. “Did you think I was going to run and hide?”
“That occurred to me, yes.” Carson glanced quickly at the bunkhouse then back at her. “Is this a good time? Do you want to talk?”
“Mr. Burris has all but kicked me out, so yes, it’s a good time.”
Carson tugged on her hand, leading her to the stables. “We’ll have privacy there,” Carson explained.
They were silent as they walked, but Carson did not release her hand. Their fingers were entwined, and Kerry was content with the light contact, thinking it didn’t feel strange at all to be holding hands with Carson.
It was warmer in the barn, the sweet smell of hay overshadowing the scent from the stables. The horses were out in the pasture, and they stood there together, the quiet surrounding them. At that moment Kerry wasn’t sure there was anything to talk about. The air was thick between them, crackling with an energy that still surprised her. She could see Carson’s pulse in her neck, its rapid pace telling Kerry that their closeness wasn’t only affecting her. But there was something in Carson’s eyes that wasn’t there last night—a wariness, guardedness. Carson always exuded such confidence and Kerry wondered what she could be worried about. Maybe it was her. Now that it’s the light of day, Carson could be worried that Kerry may be just a curious straight woman after all.
Well, Kerry knew of only one way to ease Carson’s doubts.
“Can we talk later?” she asked playfully. At Carson’s raised eyebrows, she smiled. “Why don’t you show me your hayloft?”
Carson smiled too, that wariness leaving her eyes. “You mean my teenage lair?”
“Is that what you called it?”
“Yes. I lured Cody’s unsuspecting girlfriends to it, then pounced,” Carson teased. She took a deep breath, her smile fading. “Seriously, are you okay? I mean, for you, last night was—”
“New? Different?” Kerry nodded. “Yes. In so many ways. It was also the most intimate lovemaking I have ever shared with someone.” Kerry moved away, debating how much she should confide in Carson. She felt a closeness with her, more so now, but the fact that they’d slept together changed things between them. There wasn’t much a person could hide after being as intimate as they had been. “I think maybe your first assumption about me was true.”
She watched Carson, seeing doubt cloud her eyes again. Kerry understood what she was thinking and shook her head.
“No. No, not that I’m just a curious straight woman.” She went to her, taking her hand. “When you first met me, you assumed I was a lesbian. I denied it. Carson, you weren’t the first person to say that to me. But I always denied it. The level of comfort I felt around women, well, I didn’t associate it with physical desire, certainly not sexual. It just never was a consideration of mine.” She paused, daring to meet Carson’s eyes, not knowing what all she was revealing. “It was different with you from the start. I was drawn to you in a way I didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to fight it. I couldn’t. And being with you last night, making love with you, it felt so right. It still does. These feelings don’t seem alien to me.”
Her words finally had the desired effect as the shadows of doubt left Carson’s eyes. She could tell Carson was relieved.
Carson cleared her throat. “Then I should confess something as well. I’ve slept with a lot of women, Kerry. When I was younger, it was nothing more than a game. Rebecca, the woman I told you about, taught me how to play it. She taught me how to keep it physical only, never emotional.”
Carson moved away, pretending to be interested in the bridles hanging on the center post. Kerry kept quiet, letting Carson gather her thoughts before she continued.
“It was easy for me at first,” Carson said. “I was still bruised inside from my mother’s death, from losing my home. I didn’t want an emotional attachment with anyone. I didn’t want to be close to anyone, I didn’t want to love anyone. Love brought pain and I’d had enough of that.” She turned back to Kerry, her eyes reflective now. “I’ve lived a rather solitary life, moving about from place to place, calling a sterile apartment in Manhattan home. The last few years, I haven’t had much physical contact with anyone, really. I got tired of that game, yet I still never met anyone who I wanted to give more to, more than the physical part of me. But then, I hadn’t yet met you.”
Kerry’s heart was pounding as the meaning of Carson’s words sunk in. Before she could speak, Carson moved closer, her hand cupping Kerry’s face, he
r gaze dropping to her lips.
“I haven’t let anyone have any power over me, any control,” she said softly. “Yet here I am, scared to death of this thing between us. It’s new for me too, Kerry.”
Kerry turned her face, her lips grazing Carson’s palm. “Don’t be scared,” she whispered. “I don’t want either of us to be scared of these feelings.”
They stood close together, their bodies nearly touching, close enough for Kerry to feel the heat. Carson’s hand slid from Kerry’s face to her neck, slipping under her hair. Kerry didn’t hesitate, her mouth meeting Carson’s, opening to her, inviting her in. Again, she was amazed at how quickly their passion ignited, how swiftly the fire spread between them.
She was gasping for breath, but she wasn’t shy. She tugged Carson’s shirt from her jeans, her fingers moving over warm, soft skin. She impatiently shoved her bra aside, her hands cupping both her breasts, Carson’s moan sending a thrill through her.
“Kerry, not here,” Carson murmured against her lips but she made no move to pull away.
“Too late,” Kerry said as she rolled Carson’s nipples between her fingers. Yes, it was too late. She couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop.
But Carson stilled her hands, her mouth still on Kerry’s. She smiled against her lips. “Come on then. Let me show you the loft.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“And she just left without a word?” Kerry asked.
“Yes. Just packed her things and left. Of course, it wasn’t like she socialized any while she was here,” Martha said of the nurse. “Stir that for me, Miss Kerry,” she said, pointing at the pot on the stove.
Kerry opened the lid on the soup that had been simmering, dutifully stirring as Martha had requested.
“Is Miss Carson okay?”
Kerry nodded, not wanting to look at Martha for fear she’d see right through her. They’d spent the better part of two hours in the hayloft and Kerry had been as worthless as a slug the rest of the afternoon.
