She had spent the day alone. Waiting for a knock at the door. Waiting for the phone to ring. Well, she was tired of solitary confinement and she was tired of being ignored. Bits and pieces of her memory kept coming back. Fragments. Like tiny pieces of an intricate puzzle. And she wanted to share that puzzle with Luke. She needed him to help her put the pieces together, so that the whole thing made sense.
Luke might not love her anymore. He might even still hate her. But the one thing he couldn’t deny was that, on some level, he still wanted her. The only weapon in her arsenal was sex, and if using it was what it took to get Luke’s attention, then she’d use it. And the world be damned!
Montrose covered eighteen thousand acres and Luke could be anywhere on the ranch. She just hoped he was close by, but it didn’t matter where he was, he wasn’t going to escape her. If it took her all day and half the night, she’d find him.
Deanna made one final adjustment on her shirt, then straightened the small gold hoops in her ears. With her chin tilted, her head held high and her shoulders squared, she walked out of the guest cottage and marched straight over to the main house. She knocked at the back door several times before someone answered. A short, squat middle-aged woman opened the door and peered out.
“Yeah, what can I do for you?”
“I’m Deanna Atchley. I’m staying in the—”
The box-shaped, dark-eyed woman stepped out onto the porch. “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Atchley, is there something you need?”
“I’d like to know where Mr. McClendon...where Luke is.”
“Well, as far as I know he’s over at the corral. Mrs. McClendon told me she was headed over that way to watch Luke gentling one of the new mustangs.”
“Thank you, Mrs....Mrs....?”
“Name’s Alva.”
“Thank you, Alva.”
“Do you know how to get to the corrals?” Alva asked.
“I can probably find them.”
Alva smiled broadly, then gave Deanna specific instructions on the location of the corrals.
The afternoon sun was Texas-hot, but still cool this time of May compared to what it would be like in July. She had pulled her hair up in a ponytail and chosen a short-sleeved shirt so she’d be more comfortable. She’d decided against shorts. Shorts would have been too obvious. Luke had always said she had the sexiest legs in the world. No, the jeans were a better choice. Sexy, but subtle. She just hoped she wasn’t making a mistake, going after Luke this way. But what other choice did she have? He wouldn’t come to her.
She had chased him once and he’d loved being caught. Was it foolish of her to hope that she might be that lucky a second time?
From yards away, Deanna caught a glimpse of Kizzie standing outside the corral, watching her stepson as he gentled the black mustang. Approaching Luke would be easier if she didn’t have to face his stepmother first. The woman had made no attempt to welcome her to Montrose. And why should she? Kizzie probably hadn’t wanted her on Montrose in the first place.
When Deanna approached the corrals, Kizzie turned abruptly, shading her eyes with her hand. She turned her back on Deanna and focused her gaze on the action inside the corral.
Deanna hesitated. Apparently, Luke’s stepmother wasn’t going to be friendly. Deanna breathed deeply, then released the breath and marched directly over to Kizzie.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. McClendon.”
“Hello, Deanna,” Kizzie said in a sharp tone.
“Beautiful day today.”
“Right pretty weather for May.” The sharpness in her voice dulled slightly.
“I was looking for Luke,” Deanna said. “I stopped by the house and Alva told me where I could find him.”
“You should have known Luke wouldn’t be at the house at three-thirty in the afternoon. There’s too much work to be done on this ranch for him to stay inside while the weather’s this cool.”
“Alva said he was gentling a new mustang.”
Deanna glanced out into the corral and her breath caught in her throat. Luke stood in the middle of the corral rubbing the horse’s neck and head. She didn’t know who was the more magnificent, or which was the untamed beast. The mustang wasn’t an elegant horse by any means, but there was a wild beauty about him just as there was about Luke.
Luke’s old jeans were faded and dusty. He had rolled the sleeves of his chambray shirt up to his elbows and had cocked his Stetson back away from his forehead. Sweat stained the armpits of his shirt and dotted his forehead.
“Luke’s got a way with animals. Just wish he was half as good with people,” Kizzie said softly.
Deanna made no reply. Indeed she didn’t know what to say. Kizzie was right. Luke did have a way with animals, especially horses, but he was as wary of other people as they were of him. He was a man alone, separated from the rest of the world by some invisible barrier that he had erected to protect himself.
Deanna watched as Luke touched the stallion’s ears and then his muzzle. Slowly, cautiously, he eased his thumb into the left corner of the horse’s mouth. The mustang relaxed his lips and opened his mouth for the man with the magic touch.
Deanna shuddered as a shiver raced through her. Luke had such big, hard hands, but his touch could be tender and loving. With a horse. And with a woman. Closing her eyes, she could feel and see Luke making love to her. Slow, sweet love. The kind of loving that could last all night.
“He’s going to try putting a bridle on that wild boy today,” Kizzie said. “He’s been working with him for a couple of weeks now. That’s been one stubborn horse. Luke even had to use molasses the first couple of times to get him to open his mouth.”
“Molasses?” Deanna moved closer to the edge of the fence where Kizzie stood.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know that old trick.” Kizzie chuckled. “You stick a little molasses in a horse’s mouth, let him taste it and then before you know it, he’s working his mouth and opening his lips.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Notice how Luke’s got him haltered and the lead rope draped over his left arm? Luke’s training the horse to lower his head to Luke’s comfortable working level.”
Well, at least now Kizzie was talking to her in a pleasant tone. She didn’t want Luke’s stepmother against her, but she had no idea how to win the woman over.
“You’re very fond of Luke, aren’t you.” The words were a comment, not really a question.
Snapping her head around, Kizzie glared at Deanna. “Yeah, you could say that. I love Luke like a son. I didn’t at first. He wasn’t an easy person to like, let alone love. But when I looked past all that huffing and puffing he did, I realized what a lost soul he was. If ever a boy needed to be loved and accepted, Luke did.”
“You and your husband welcomed him into your family. You did everything possible to—”
“You destroyed him. He’s never been the same since the trial. He wouldn’t let us come to Huntsville to see him, you know. And he never answered a one of my letters.”
“But why—”
“A man that doesn’t care about anyone can’t ever be hurt. During those five years in prison, Luke finished the job of isolating himself from human emotions. He came home to us, but he’s never been a part of us. He won’t let himself be.”
“I hope that when we can prove who really killed my father, Luke will be free from the past and can learn to reach out to the people who love him.”
“Do you love him, girl? Is that what this is really all about?”
Deanna was taken aback. She’d never expected the woman to see so deeply into her heart and find those hopes and dreams she had buried there long ago.
“I don’t know,” Deanna said. “A part of me still cares about Luke...the Luke I knew and loved fifteen years ago.”
“He’s not the same. You’ve seen what he’s like now.” Kizzie grabbed Deanna’s arm. “I don’t know what scares me the most—you hurting him or him hurting you. Either way, it’ll finish him off. And I can’t bear to
see that happen.”
“I’m not going to hurt Luke. I promise you that.” Deanna patted Kizzie’s hand.
Jerking her hand away, Luke’s stepmother turned her attention back to the corral. “With a little work Luke could even lower that wild boy’s nose all the way to the ground. The mustang has learned to yield to that pressure now.”
Luke held the headstall in his left hand, with the reins draped over his right arm, while he lowered the mustang’s head. He raised his left hand and the headstall up to meet his right hand and the horse’s forelock. Then he transferred the top of the headstall from his left hand to his right, simultaneously grasping the forelock in his right hand.
Deanna watched, amazed at the ease with which Luke handled the stallion. Not only did Luke know exactly what he was doing, he considered the horse’s feelings every step of the way. Was it easy to care about animals, knowing they wouldn’t love you and then leave you? Wouldn’t betray you. Wouldn’t rip out your heart.
Luke held the headstall and forelock with his right hand, then raised the bit to the horse’s mouth with his left hand. As he rubbed the stallion’s gums and tongue with his left thumb, he waited patiently for him to open his mouth. He didn’t force any action. Didn’t rush in any way.
There was such patience and caring in the way Luke managed the horse. He had touched her, loved her—once—and just as this horse was doing, she had given him whatever he’d asked of her.
After letting the mustang take the bit into his mouth at his own speed, Luke gently pushed the horse’s ears forward and the headstall over them, one at a time. Then he adjusted the headstall and the throat latch.
The horse worked his mouth, running his tongue over and under the bit. Luke petted the big animal, speaking low and soft to him. Deanna wondered if he was praising the stallion, telling him what a fine beast he was.
She remembered when Luke had praised her, his words sincere. Strange how she was standing here wishing that Luke would treat her the way he treated that horse. With gentleness and patience and understanding. And with respect.
Deanna turned away, no longer able to look at Luke, to think about what it might have been like for them if she’d had the courage to run away with him that night. If only she hadn’t been so afraid. For Luke. And for herself. If she had gone with him when he’d begged her to go, what would their lives be like now? She’d be Luke’s wife and the mother of his children.
When Deanna started to walk away, Kizzie grabbed her arm. “I thought you wanted to see Luke.”
“I did, but—”
“Don’t you think I’ve watched him with the horses and wished, just once, he’d show me, or one of his brothers, or even a stranger, the same kind of caring he lavishes on those animals?”
“I wanted to tell Luke that more of my memory has returned,” Deanna said. “I remembered that Luke threw the pitchfork into the ground and walked away. He asked me, one last time to go with him, and when I refused, he left the Circle A that night.”
“Oh, mercy! You actually remember Luke walking away, leaving your father alive?”
“Yes, and I’ve been waiting for Luke to come to see me so I could tell him. I even left him a message to call me.”
“He’s stubborn as a mule, He’s not going to meet you halfway, you know.” Kizzie released her hold on Deanna’s arm. “Stay until he finishes up with the mustang, then talk to him. Tell him what you remembered.” Kizzie walked past Deanna. “I’m going back to the house. You two will need to be alone.”
Luke glanced up and saw his stepmother leaving. He called out to her, but she just waved and kept on going. He tried to avoid eye contact with Deanna. He’d known for quite some time that she was watching him.
“Luke.” Deanna waved at him.
He nodded his head but didn’t respond verbally. While she returned to the fence, he watched her. Damn but she looked good. Tight jeans encasing those long, slender legs. Legs that went on forever. Legs that had wrapped tightly around him when they’d made love. And a shirt with just enough buttons open to tempt a man’s gaze. Nobody could convince him that she hadn’t known exactly what she was doing dressing that way. She was out for bear and had set her trap accordingly.
“Luke, when you finish up here, I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t have time,” he told her. “When I get through here, I’ve got to ride out and check the water troughs and windmills. That’s something that has to be checked at least every other day. I didn’t get around to it yesterday, so it has to be done today.”
“I’ll ride out with you and we can talk.”
Deanna was temptation personified. He didn’t love her. Hell, he didn’t even like her. But he sure did want her. How could a man dislike a woman—hate a woman—and still want her to the point of madness?
“Go over to the stables and ask Herb to saddle Fair Weather for you. I’ll come on over in a bit.”
“Thank you, Luke. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but...well, I have something important to tell you.”
A cold shudder racked Luke’s body, then he looked away, turning his attention back to the mustang. The last time Deanna had said that she had something important to tell him, she’d told him she was pregnant.
Deanna had kept up with Luke as they covered as much of Montrose as was possible in one afternoon. He hadn’t said more than two words to her while they checked the water troughs and windmills. And she had kept silent, waiting for the right moment to tell him what she had remembered. But as the hours passed, she grew impatient. When she’d waited as long as she could stand it, she asked Luke to stop.
“Please, Luke, can’t we talk now? I really do have something to tell you. Something I think you’ll want to hear.”
“When I finish up, we’ll ride up there—” he nodded toward the hills “—and talk.”
An hour later, they rode up into the hills—the glorious hills that were alive with the blush of springtime. A profusion of wildflowers, especially bluebells, lined the paths and covered the fields, adding a purple hue to the land. The sun lay low in the western horizon, an orange fireball descending from the heavens.
She hadn’t ridden into the hills on the northern side of Montrose in fifteen years, not since the night she’d met Luke at their cabin and told him that she was going to have his baby. But Luke wasn’t taking her toward their cabin. He led her up the path and to the right. The old cabin lay to the left of the well-worn route.
When they reached the summit, a high ridge that overlooked the ranch, Luke dismounted, but he made no effort to assist Deanna. He used to help her off her horse, lift her into his arms and carry her to the ground, eager and passionate, his body hungry for hers. Now, he didn’t even pay her the courtesy of offering his hand. Deanna dismounted and followed Luke, who stood on the ridge, gazing out over Montrose.
With his back to her, he said, “So what’s so important that you had to tag along with me while I worked?”
“If you’d bothered to return my call, to drop by and see me for a few minutes, I wouldn’t have had to track you down today!”
“I told you, when I agreed to help you, that I wouldn’t have much time for you. This is a working ranch and my job comes first with me.”
She grabbed his arm, her fingers biting into the hard muscle. “Dammit, Luke, I’m not a fool. Don’t you think I know why you’re avoiding me?”
His big body tensed. The muscles under her hand tightened. “I’ve been busy. I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“You’re afraid of me. Afraid I might make you feel something. And you couldn’t handle that, could you? You’re a big, strong, tough guy who doesn’t need anybody, but you haven’t got the guts to risk caring about anyone or anything!”
Knocking her hand aside, he turned on her, his eyes wild, his jaw tight. Deanna backed away from him. He reached out, took her shoulders in his big hands and glared at her. She trembled beneath his touch. For one instant, she was actually frightened. Luke looked so fierce when he
was angry.
“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you, babe?” He practically growled the words. “You’d like to think that I still give a damn. That I still care about you. Well, I don’t. You don’t mean anything to me.”
“Does anyone?” She wriggled, trying to free herself from his tenacious hold.
“No. No one and nothing, except Montrose.”
“Not even the truth? Doesn’t the truth mean something to you?” she asked.
He dropped his hands away from her shoulders, but continued glowering at her. “What are you talking about?”
“The truth, Luke. You know—telling it like it is. Facts. What really happened.”
“If you’ve got something to tell me, say it!”
“I had another memory flash,” she said. “While I was talking to Junior.”
“So?”
Why did Luke have to be so nasty to her? Why couldn’t he understand that he wasn’t the only one who had suffered? Because, nitwit, he has no idea what you went through at Millones. For all he knows, you’ve spent the last fifteen years happy as a lark.
“I remembered that you grabbed the pitchfork and told Daddy that he’d never whip you again. You started walking toward him. And I think Daddy was actually scared. He backed away from you. And you—you walked toward him, then you threw the pitchfork into the ground and kept on going. You glanced back over your shoulder and asked me to come with you. I wouldn’t go, so you left.”
Luke stared at her as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of what she’d told him. “That’s exactly what happened,” he said. “But what I don’t know is whether you’ve suddenly just remembered that vital piece of information or whether you’ve known all along.”
“You think I’ve known all along! That I lied on the witness stand. That I let you go to prison when I could have saved you.” Deanna rushed at him, her fists lifted against him. When she was within a foot of him, she halted. Her breathing ragged, her face hot, she stared at him and saw all the doubt and distrust in his eyes. She lowered her arms.
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