When they finished dinner he struggled to his feet to help her clear the table. "Connor," she sighed, placing her hands on her hips and giving him an exasperated look. "Will you cut it out? Go on into the living room and sit down."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied meekly, suppressing a smile. She had no idea how endearing she looked, standing there with a spatula dripping water onto the floor.
Her couch felt as if it was made in heaven. Sinking into its comfort, he turned and watched her wash the dishes and stack them to dry. Even doing the mundane chore she moved gracefully, her slim hips tantalizing in the worn jeans. She was warmth and fire, and he longed for just a taste of her.
After she finished she brought him a mug of coffee and a piece of pie. Raising his eyebrows, he said, "You've decided that my blood pressure doesn't need protecting anymore?"
"No, you're fine. If you can spend the day walking around Pine Butte, then a cup of coffee isn't going to hurt you," she said dryly.
They ate the pie in silence. When he finished, he set his plate on the coffee table and looked at her. In spite of the way he felt about this town, in spite of the way he felt about her family, he was too damn attracted to her to let things lie between them.
"About our conversation earlier," he began, but she cut him off.
"Forget about it. I have already."
"You can't tell me you've forgotten about your sister and why she died."
"I'll never forget that." She stared at him for a moment, her eyes hard. "But she's dead, and you're a patient, at least for the time being. I can manage to put our … differences aside and be professional."
"Are you ever anything other than professional?"
She looked at him for a long time, then looked away. "No."
He could believe that. Her apartment, although welcoming, was definitely feminine. It didn't look as though many men spent time in her hideaway.
"Thank you for insisting that I stay here in the clinic." He didn't think he'd tell her what had made him agree.
"I could hardly let you wander around town with a concussion and broken ribs. Someone needed to look after you."
"And I couldn't have picked a better person myself," he murmured, watching her from suddenly heavy-lidded eyes. She jumped up from the couch abruptly and went to the window. Dusk was just beginning to fall, and he could see the start of a magnificent sunset splashed against the mountains that ringed Pine Butte.
"Why are you here, Connor?" she asked quietly. "What do you want from Pine Butte?"
"Just what I told your uncle today. Justice."
"It's too late to punish the people of Pine Butte for what they did to you when you were a child. You have to forget about it and get on with your life."
"I never said I was here to extract retribution for my miserable childhood. No one can give me that. But there are other things this town took from me besides my innocence. Things that the people responsible are going to pay for."
She couldn't turn around. If she saw his face, saw the anguish in his eyes that accompanied his words, she would be lost. Gripping the windowsill, she thought she might be anyway. Still staring out at the vivid sunset, she murmured, "Even if you hadn't told me so, I'd know that you always got what you wanted." She paused and a note of sadness crept into her voice. "You know the old saying about being careful what you ask for? Be very certain this is what you want, Connor."
For an injured man he managed to move awfully quickly. When his hand touched her shoulder, she jolted and turned around too fast. Her hand brushed his chest, and she looked up into eyes that glittered with something that wasn't pain.
"There's only one thing I'm certain I want right now," he muttered, and bent his head to hers.
It was not a gentle kiss. There were no preliminary caresses, no soft brushing of his lips against hers. His mouth, hot and hungry, took possession of hers. His hands slid into her hair, holding her head for his plundering kiss.
After the first moment of surprise and resistance, her eyes fluttered closed and she felt herself melt into him. Her brain screamed a warning, begged her to stop and think, but she was beyond thinking. The moment his mouth touched hers she was lost.
Feeling her surrender, he deepened the kiss. His hands combed through her hair, barely touching her scalp. Shivering, she leaned against him and tentatively wrapped her arms around his back. She felt his body tighten and tense, then he pulled her closer. His palms slid over her shoulders and down her back, cupping her hips in his big hands. When he pressed her against him, she felt the extent of his arousal and shivered again.
With one hand he held her close, and with the other he wandered up her back. His lips left her mouth, leaving her aching, wanting more. They glided over her cheek, down to her neck and finally settled in the hollow above her collarbone.
"Sweet Sarah," he whispered into her ear. "I've wanted you since the minute I woke up and saw you standing over me." His mouth returned to hers. This time, his tongue teased her lips and she gladly opened to him. The taste of coffee and forbidden passion filled her head.
Desire curled inside her, heated to a throbbing, almost unbearable rhythm. Her arms tightened around him, trying to bring him closer, and it took a moment for his sudden stillness to penetrate the haze of passion.
Realization hit her like a fist in the stomach. Unwrapping her arms from around him, she stepped back. "Your ribs," she whispered, horrified. "I forgot."
"I did, too." Sighing, he pushed her hair away from her face and let his fingers slide down her cheek. "It seems like I forget a lot of things when I'm around you."
But she was remembering. She took another step back and stood trembling, staring at him. They might have been locked together for a minute or an hour. She had no idea. Wrapping her shaking arms around herself, she felt a little sick. How could she have forgotten who he was, what he'd done to her sister? How could she have responded to him so quickly, so completely?
"Sarah," he began, but she cut him off.
"I think you'd better go, Connor. I'll keep the door open in case you need help during the night."
She turned away, but he didn't move. She felt him behind her, pulsating with energy and frustrated desire.
"It doesn't matter, you know. No matter how much I want you, it won't stop me from getting what I came for."
She whirled to face him, but he'd already started out of the room. My God, did he think she was deliberately seducing him? A bitter laugh caught in her throat. The last thing she needed or wanted was any kind of relationship with Connor MacCormac.
Sinking down on the couch, she looked at the place where he'd disappeared just moments before. She had to be honest, at least with herself. Wanting had nothing to do with it. She'd wanted him from the moment she saw him. But having. Now that was a different story.
He was the last man she could allow herself to care about. Even if the past hadn't stood between them, the ugly accusations and suspicions poisoning the air, the present would. He wasn't a settle-down, stay-in-one-little-town kind of man. He especially wasn't interested in staying in Pine Butte, Colorado. He'd made that more than clear. And unless, by some miracle, they could attract a doctor to their tiny community, Sarah was doomed to stay here forever.
Moving stiffly, she undressed and got ready for bed. At least she wouldn't have to worry about one thing, she thought with lingering pain. If he needed her during the night, it would take her only a minute to respond. She wasn't planning on much sleep tonight.
* * *
When Connor opened his eyes to the pearl-gray dawn light, he looked around for a moment, disoriented. Where was this room?
Memory came back quickly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His side still ached as if he'd been stomped by a horse, but the pain in his head had subsided to a vague throb. When he flexed his left leg, there was only a momentary twinge of pain. As he'd told Sarah, he healed quickly. Listening intently for a while, he finally stood up and fumbled in his pack for clean clothes. There w
asn't a sound from the clinic or Sarah's apartment upstairs. Maybe he could sneak out before she was up. That way he wouldn't have to think about the uneasy guilt he felt whenever he saw the concern in those sea-colored eyes of hers.
Sarah Wesley was concerned only about her precious town, he tried to tell himself. He smiled grimly as he pulled a T-shirt over his head. It sure would be a hell of a lot simpler if he could convince himself of that. But their kiss last night had blown that theory right out of the water.
She hadn't kissed him like a woman who was trying only to protect her town and her family. She'd kissed him like a lover, like she'd meant it. And God help him, he was afraid he'd kissed her the same way.
It wasn't too late to stop, he told himself. One kiss didn't mean a thing. Sure he was attracted to her, but so what? He'd been attracted to a million other women. He'd enjoyed more than a few of them, then they'd said mutual goodbyes without an ounce of regret.
But Sarah Wesley was different. He'd known it from the minute he'd opened his eyes and saw her standing over him in the clinic, soothing away his pain and surrounding him with her warmth. Something in Sarah cut away all the pain and anger, cut right to his core where he had no defenses. And she scared the hell out of him.
He hadn't come back to Pine Butte to get involved with a woman. Especially not Barb Wesley's sister. Of all the betrayals large and small that were his memories of this town, hers had been the worst. The last thing he wanted or needed was to care about her sister.
His stomach still curled with disgust and shame when he remembered the innocent, lovesick child he'd been. He'd been the same age as Barb Wesley, but for all his toughness and bravado on the outside, his heart had been tender and untried.
And he'd fallen in love with her. Maybe it had been the way she'd held him at arm's length, teasing him, letting him take her out but not allowing more than a chaste kiss, that had made him so determined to marry her. Maybe it had been just the starry-eyed idealism of a boy in love for the first time. Whatever it had been, he would never forget the day, just after they'd graduated from high school, when he'd asked her to marry him.
She hadn't actually laughed out loud at him, but he'd known she was laughing inside. When she'd told him she was pregnant, he'd just looked at her, unable to comprehend what she'd said. When her words finally sunk in, when he realized she'd been using him all along, he'd left her without another word. The next day he'd packed his meager belongings and left Pine Butte.
No, the last thing he needed in his life was another dose of a Wesley woman. His heart told him Sarah was nothing like Barb, but he refused to listen. He would leave now, before she was awake, and try not to return until late. By tomorrow he would be able to clean up his mother's house and live there. Once he was away from her, it would be easy to forget her.
As he spun toward the front door he heard a faint rustling behind him.
"You're up awfully early," Sarah's calm voice said.
He spun around and found her leaning against the wall that led to her cubbyhole of an office. She smelled like flowery soap and her hair was still slightly damp from a shower, but no amount of bathing could have erased the huge purple shadows under her eyes.
If she wanted to play it casual, so could he. He ignored the little flare of disappointment. "So are you."
Waving her hand toward her desk, she said, "I have a lot of records to catch up on. What's your excuse?"
"Business." He moved to the door, determined to get out of the clinic and away from Sarah. At the door he paused and looked back at her. "Have you had breakfast?" he found himself asking.
"I'll get something later," she replied, pushing herself away from the wall. "Be careful today."
It looked as if she was as determined as he was to forget about the previous night. Some devil made him ask, "It doesn't look like Earlene has many customers yet. Sure you wouldn't care to join me?"
She was on the verge of saying no. He saw it in her eyes, saw the word form on her lips. Then, slowly, she nodded. "That would be nice." Grabbing the clinic key off the desk, she followed him out the door without another word.
Earlene gave them a sharp look when they slid into a window booth. The faded orange vinyl seats looked the same as they had when he was a kid, and the menu was about as old. Carrying a pot of coffee, the owner of the town's only restaurant rumbled over to their table and stood there for a moment, a hard look on her face.
"Morning, Sarah." The look she gave him was frankly curious.
"Hello, Connor. We heard you were back in town."
Earlene and her cohorts had probably been talking about nothing else for the past forty-eight hours. "You heard right." He lifted the cup of coffee she'd just poured and took a gulp of the scalding liquid, closing his eyes in satisfaction, "Nobody on God's earth ever could make coffee like you, Earlene. Are you sure you don't want to run away and marry me?"
She snorted, her lips curling up in a reluctant grin. "You always could charm the rattles off a snake, Connor MacCormac." Earlene walked away smiling and Sarah raised her eyebrows.
"I didn't realize your affections were spoken for."
He grinned. "Honey, you make coffee like Earlene and I'd probably ask you the same thing. At least in the morning."
Without bothering to ask, their hostess brought two platters piled high with pancakes and bacon and hash brown potatoes. They ate in a comfortable silence, and finally he pushed away his empty plate and leaned back against the stiff vinyl.
"Are they going to gossip about you?" he asked.
She didn't pretend to not understand. Flushing, she said, "This isn't the first time a patient has stayed overnight at the clinic. Everyone knows that."
"But it's the first time I've stayed there." He couldn't help the bitterness that crept into his voice. "I'll leave today."
"No, you won't." She leaned over the table, her face hot with temper. "I don't care what anyone says. You're not leaving a minute before you should. I'd like you to stay at least another couple of nights."
"I'll stay tonight. After that, I don't know." He wasn't sure he could handle even one more night alone in the quiet building with her.
Sliding stiffly out of the booth, he pulled out his wallet and tossed some bills on the table. "Thanks for joining me for breakfast. With you here, at least Earlene was willing to serve me."
"Something tells me she would have been more than willing, anyway you showed up," she answered dryly.
He grinned suddenly. "Yeah. Now she's going to be queen of the gossips, at least for a day. She actually spoke to me."
Sarah stood next to him, a faint trace of sadness on her face. "Not everyone in Pine Butte is like my family, Connor. Give them a chance."
"Oh, I'll give them a chance, all right. I just won't turn my back on them."
They stood on the sidewalk, Connor oddly reluctant to leave her and get on with his business. It seemed as if Sarah wasn't in any hurry to get back to her clinic, either.
Finally she started across the street. "I'll see you later. What are you going to do today?"
"I'm going to see if the kid at the gas station is finished with my motorcycle, then I have some checking to do. I may not be back until late."
"All right," she said softly.
He felt her eyes on his back all the way down the street. When he finally turned the corner, it felt as if he'd left something important behind.
* * *
An hour later, Connor eased the clutch out on the tiny car he'd rented from the gas station and urged it up the hill. His motorcycle wouldn't be finished for a few days, but he was satisfied the kid knew what he was doing. There were parts that had to be ordered, and young Billy Sullivan had been eager to chat about tail pipes and spark plugs. All Connor wanted was to have it fixed and running again, but he'd spent a few minutes with the mechanic. At least there was one person in the town who didn't care about his past.
The car chugged up the hill like an anemic sewing machine, sputtering more the
higher they got. "Just another couple of miles," he muttered to the dashboard. He drove past the gate that led to the offices of Wesley Mining Inc. He planned on visiting the mine today, but he didn't think he'd be welcomed in an official capacity. The back entrance would do just fine.
After a slow fifteen minutes, he parked the car off the road behind a clump of trees. It wasn't hidden from sight, just out of the way. Scrambling between trees and around boulders, he finally emerged just above the main entrance to Wesley's mine shaft. Settling himself in the bushes, he watched the activity below.
Ore cars shot out of the hole in the mountain at regular intervals. A swarm of workmen unloaded them and started them down the other track back into the mine. Watching the frantic activity below, Connor saw how easy it had been for Chet to injure his leg.
Ralph Wesley was determined to get as much work as possible out of his employees. The cars came just a hair too fast. If Chet had been trying to replace a derailed car without having the next one stopped, as the foreman had claimed, it would be all too easy to get trapped between the two cars.
Chet was going to be fine. Connor had been in Sarah's apartment the night before when she'd gotten the phone call. He'd had surgery, and although his recovery would be long and painful, he wasn't going to lose the leg.
Watching the activity below him, Connor was amazed that accidents like Chet's didn't happen more frequently. He watched for a while longer, then stood up and retraced his steps. The scene was enlightening, but it wasn't what he'd come for. Unloading ore cars wasn't what had killed his father.
By the time he reached the car, sweat poured off him. Ignoring the ache in his side, he got into the car and pointed it up the road. Eventually, straining and groaning, the car got him to the place he wanted to stop.
He was far from the mine, and not a whisper of sound from the activity below reached this far. All he heard was the twittering of birds in the underbrush and, close by, the gurgle of a little stream.
He needed to sit and think for a while, to try to plan his next move. He'd come back to Pine Butte to find the truth. His father had died when he was twelve, of a heart attack. At least that's what the doctor had said, and he and his mother had had no reason to believe otherwise.
AN INNOCENT MAN Page 6
