Heat Wave (Riders Up)

by Adriana Kraft

  “You may be right. Bobby’s not a real romantic guy, but he did ask if I wanted to go to a movie next weekend. Can I go, Mom? Can I?”

  Setting aside all the worry she’d just gone through, Maggie said, “You may go. But remember, I’ll put the brakes on your social life if your grades go down.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Mom,” Carolyn called out over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs. “Boys aren’t going to come between me and what I want to do with my life. I know I have to have good grades to become a vet.”

  Listening to the muffled sound of her daughter’s bedroom door closing, Maggie wondered aloud, “How much of a chance is there that she will stay that focused over the next several years?”

  Ed’s face lit up. “Oh, she may vacillate some, but Carolyn seems to have a strong dose of her mother’s stubbornness. I’d put money on the girl doing what she wants.”

  “Aren’t you an interesting odds maker,” Maggie teased, feeling much more relaxed than an hour earlier. Would she ever get used to being a mother of a teenager? She looked at Ed. So what did he have in mind now?

  “So, I’d best be going,” Ed said, rising from his chair. “It’s been a stressful night. You need to get some rest. Morning will be here before you know it.”

  Maggie folded her arms and pouted. “Aren’t I even going to get a goodnight kiss from my date? I’m not sure I could sleep if I wanted too.”

  Ed grinned down at her. “Guess I can manage that,” he said. “Must have been an oversight on my part.”

  She felt his finger tip brush lightly across her lips before his mouth settled on hers. She waited, applying no pressure, more than a little curious about how her man was going to handle this goodnight kiss.

  His tongue traced her lips. She loved the care he was taking with her. This would be no peck, nor was it a kiss to comfort.

  In a moment, his tongue moved across the roof of her mouth, teasing, caressing. Maggie held back no longer as she joined her tongue in their play. His hands cupped her butt. God, he had wonderful hands. She stood on her tiptoes to grind her crotch against his stiff arousal. She felt him tense and begin to withdraw; she held on firmly. Without thought, she jumped up into his arms and swung her legs around his rear. She rubbed against his erection, wanting more.

  Finally, Ed succumbed to her rhythm. Maggie bit his shoulder and stifled a scream. He braced himself, holding her steady. She rocked back and forth, slowly at first and then more rapidly. When relief came, it threatened to shatter her soul; she was awash with fire. And then there was nothing—almost no feeling.

  Limp. It would have taken a Herculean effort to move a single muscle. She was grateful that somehow Ed knew all she wanted was to be held.

  How much time went by she didn’t know, but her head eventually cleared some. Her muscles strained. Aware of Ed still holding her, she lowered her feet to the floor. How could it be possible they still could hold her up?

  “I’ve got to go, Maggie. Your daughter just went upstairs, and here we are making out like a couple randy fools.”

  With the back of her hand, Maggie wiped the heat from her lips. As her eyes regained the ability to focus, she said, “You’re right. I didn’t plan to seduce you again.”

  He chuckled. “I know. Let’s just say this one was mutual. It must be those damn rabbit ears.”

  “What!”

  “I’ve been turned on ever since you came down with those rabbit-eared slippers on your feet. Never thought I’d be involved with a bunny.”

  “If that’s what it takes, I may never take these slippers off.” She dropped her eyelids briefly. “I had a great time tonight, Ed. I hope there will be many more. You are full of surprises. I didn’t know you could be so romantic.”

  “Oh, there are plenty more surprises. You haven’t even begun to sample my repertoire.” Setting his Stetson squarely on his head, pulling the brim down some, he promised, “Till next time.” And then he stepped out into the night and made his way toward the loft.

  Maggie watched him disappear in the darkness, feeling suddenly alone and chilled. It had been a marvelous night. And he was full of surprises. But he hadn’t asked her out for another date. Turning off the kitchen lights, she grumbled, “At least Carolyn got a second date.”

  The next morning Ed arrived early for breakfast, his body rigid and his face ashen.

  “Didn’t you get any sleep? You look like hell,” Maggie mocked, glancing up from cracking eggs into a large mixing bowl.

  “Put the eggs down, Maggie,” Ed said firmly, “I’ve got some bad news.”

  “What?” Maggie wiped her hands on a towel. The smoldering anger in his eyes chilled her body. “What happened?”

  “The tomcat.” Ed breathed deeply. “Somebody slashed the tomcat’s throat. I found him this morning in the barn crosswalk when I went to feed the horses.”

  “Oh, my God,” Maggie murmured. Collapsing into a chair, her body shook. “Poor Tom. Someone was here? Someone is trying to scare the hell out of us. Someone is very serious.”

  Ed moved behind Maggie and began massaging her shoulders. “No question, and very sick. Any bastard who’d kill a cat has to be sick. I don’t know if it happened while we were at the dance or later.”

  “He could’ve been killed while we slept. Thank God Johnny or Carolyn didn’t find him first.” Maggie struggled to quell her roiling stomach. She gripped the tabletop; her knuckles whitened. “What next?”

  - o -

  Ed bent to kiss her ear. He’d never seen her so devastated. She’d always been the strong one—now she needed someone to lean on, and he wasn’t sure he ought to be that one. But no one else was available.

  “I don’t know.” He continued rubbing her neck. Maggie leaned forward, giving him more access. He could feel the strain in her neck muscles seeking release. “You should report this to the sheriff. He might do nothing, but at least there will be a record. Killing a cat goes a long way beyond vandalism. I’ll call Clint later today and bring him up to date.”

  Ed worried whether they would find the bastard before any further damage could be done. He cringed at how vulnerable everyone in the household was—as well as some promising, pricey horses. How could he protect them all, isolated from neighbors by a half mile in either direction?

  Maybe he’d go into town later in the morning and buy a gun. He wouldn’t tell Maggie—she’d just be more alarmed. But they had to do something to protect themselves.

  “We can’t leave the kids here alone, singly or together,” Maggie said. She pressed a hand against her throbbing temple. “What if…” Maggie closed her eyes.

  Opening them again, she said, “Who is safe anymore? What is safe?” She turned to look sidewise at Ed. “Are you safe in the barn? Are we safe in the house? There’s a rabid person out there. We’ve got to be careful.”

  “I wholeheartedly support you on that. I’m not sure we can afford a lot of security. The cost of an alarm system for the barn and house would be prohibitive.”

  - o -

  Maggie laid her head down on the table. She was comforted by the warmth of his large hands resting on her shoulders. What would she do without him? She would survive; she knew that. But this was so much better—sharing the good and the bad with someone you loved. Still, none of them were safe.

  She sat back in the chair. “You’re probably right about the cost of an alarm system, but I should at least check it out. We can’t just sit here and be easy targets for any sicko who happens to want this land.” Maggie’s shoulders slumped. “What would compel a person to kill an innocent cat?”

  “I don’t know, but if we’re lucky we’re going to find out.”

  Maggie rose to continue preparing breakfast. Regardless of what else was happening, they had to eat. Squirting oil on the frying pan, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her safe cocoon was in danger of falling completely apart. What if they weren’t lucky? She couldn’t imagine anyone she knew stooping so low. Could she really have an
enemy that hated her that much or who coveted her land that much?

  The hate in Mrs. McPherson’s eyes last night had been raw and intimidating. But could she really be behind the killing of the tomcat? Maggie knew better than to rule out that possibility, but she found the idea preposterous, even for Mrs. McPherson.

  Maggie shuddered. Squaring her shoulders, she focused her attention on what needed to be done. Ed would notify Clint. She had more faith in the Chicago-based detective agency than in the local sheriff’s office. She’d make a report to the sheriff, though. Then she’d see about a security system for the house. There was no way she could afford an electronic system for the barn; a night watchman was out of the question. No matter what they did, they would remain vulnerable to anyone determined to cause trouble.

  Maybe she should get a gun. She grimaced. She didn’t know the first thing about shooting a gun. Her family would likely be at greater risk if she owned one.

  Glancing from the stove to where Ed remained at the table pretending to read the same page of a magazine over and over, she thanked God that she had his help. How long would he put himself at risk for her and her family? Could he be scared off? She would be so much more vulnerable if he fled.

  Was the land really worth all of this? Maggie stared out the kitchen window toward the paddock where horses grazed and beyond, toward the corn fields that had failed her this season. Who was she without the land? What kind of future could any of them have if they were separated from the land?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Two weeks later, Maggie sagged against the mail box, her eyes fixed on the certified letter she held in her trembling hands. The envelope was addressed to Edward H. Harrington; its return address was the Illinois Racing Board.

  If it contained what she thought it did, she should be thrilled for him. So why was she shaking like a leaf? If it was the good news he’d been so afraid to hope for, would he leave her? If it was bad news, would he retreat to the nearest bottle?

  A week earlier, when they’d been in Chicago picking up four broodmares, Cassie had hinted at a possible breakthrough in Ed’s case. She hadn’t been at liberty to say more. Given the glare from her husband, she’d likely already said more than she was supposed to.

  Because of the tomcat being killed, Maggie had insisted on taking the kids with them to Chicago, school or no school. Hank looked after the stock while they were gone and nothing had gone wrong. Her children had been awed by the skyscrapers, though neither Carolyn nor Johnny seemed particularly enamored with big city life.

  Maggie hefted the weighty envelop gingerly. It even felt important. If the Board had decided to reinstate him, Ed would go back to his old life. Why wouldn’t he? This backwater community had to be small potatoes for a trainer of his skill and stature. Cassie had told her about his burning desire to be on the level of a Baffert, a Lucas, a Zito. He’d been on the verge of making the leap to that next plateau when the scandal hit. Maggie knew he’d never make that next level training her horses in Beaverhill, Iowa.

  She sighed, turned and slowly walked toward the house. It had been a good run with Ed and the horses. Smiling, she remembered the close camaraderie they’d shared remodeling the barn and constructing new fencing; the thrill of buying those first horses and then sharing that initial kiss; his running, only to be caught. Her muscles ached recalling each moment that morning in the kitchen when neither one of them could run anymore. She took a deep breath remembering his laughter, his arms holding her securely during a waltz, his body speaking to her own in a language unique to them.

  It was over. With the dead cat and the trip to Chicago with the kids along, there had been little time for romance. And now he would scurry off to Chicago as fast as his beat up old truck could haul him.

  No need to prolong the agony. Maggie walked toward the barn. If this wasn’t a good news-bad news event, she’d never known one before.

  Maggie stood rigidly watching Ed rip open the certified letter with shaking hands. Holding his breath, he scanned it quickly. A smile spread wide across his face. It grew broader. It became his entire face. She heard him hoot, “They did it! I’m cleared. I’m reinstated.”

  Ed threw his cap toward the haymow. He grabbed Maggie by the waist and twirled them across the barn driveway. “I can’t believe it, Maggie. Two so-called witnesses changed their stories and the circumstantial evidence collapsed.”

  He kissed her on the top of her head; she clung tightly to him as if they were aboard a Tilt-A-Whirl.

  “I can dream again,” Ed shouted. “There is life after death. This is cause for celebration, Maggie—get your best dress on. We’re going to go to Des Moines to the fanciest restaurant they have. It might not be like dining at the Pump Room in Chicago, but it will do for tonight.”

  Not wanting to burst his bubble, knowing that she owed him at least this much, she set aside her own fears to celebrate with him. She celebrated wildly, maybe even drank too much wine. He insisted she have the best wine in the house even though he had none. They ate and they danced. She felt so secure and so afraid in his arms. He didn’t seem to notice the tears in her eyes. Or if he did, he must have written them off as tears of joy and pleasure. They weren’t.

  Maggie tried desperately to guard a portion of her heart as she waited for reality to hit—waited for him to announce when he’d leave for Chicago. This might be their last night. She was determined to enjoy the ride as best she could for as long as it lasted.

  There was little conversation between them during the return trip from Des Moines. Maggie even found it difficult to appreciate the late October full moon. Maggie shrank farther into the corner of her seat.

  Ed drove down her driveway and said quietly, “I’d like you to come to the loft, Maggie. Let’s check on the kids, and then come and stay the night with me.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. She wanted one last time. She needed one more memory to tuck away.

  “Leave the lamp on,” Ed said, pulling the blankets off the bed.

  Maggie warmed under his unabashed appraisal.

  “I want to see you. I want to memorize your shape. Your taste and smell are branded into my mind. I intend to memorize every square inch of your body, woman. I’m going to accomplish that with my tongue.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened and then glazed over.

  “Every square inch,” he reiterated. “Nothing will ever be forgotten.”

  His intensity impaled her to her very core. The firmly set jaw, the gleam in his eyes, the burning of his touch. She wanted him now; she wanted him deep inside. His look disarmed her, turning her body to soft clay to be molded however he desired. Normally, she’d struggle with him for control. This time she willed herself to receive and to follow his lead. She willed herself to be patient.

  Quickly, Maggie discovered that she didn’t have to work at waiting, at being patient. Her body could do no other.

  He started by pulling one of her hands to his lips. He nibbled and suckled each finger before moving to her wrist. She sighed heavily as his tongue traced her earlobe and then lapped at her nape. His lips brushed her eyelids, then her nose; Maggie smiled as her nose twitched in response. His tongue traced the outline of her smile before moving to her chin.

  She started to put her arms around his back. Ed raised his head and looked at her. “Not yet,” he whispered. “I’m not near finished.” He placed her arms back on the bed. “Just receive. We have all night. Who knows about tomorrow?”

  Maggie tensed, nearly panicking. “Tomorrow can wait, and so can I,” she managed to say before her heavy eyelids shuttered.

  She luxuriated in his quest to know and remember her body. Ever so lightly, his tongue advanced from the crown of her breast to its nipple, which ached in anticipation. He twirled the nipple with his lips and teeth. Maggie’s back arched in response.

  He moved on.

  After swirling his tongue around her navel, Ed paused, easily rolling her over on her stomach. Lying there surprised, Maggie felt eve
n more exposed, more naked. He started at the base of her neck. She nearly dozed off.

  This was beyond any sexual experience she’d ever had. That smooth rough tongue communicated much more than lust and desire. Love. Pleasure. Delight. Warmth. She was an object of adoration. She’d been loved before, but she couldn’t remember ever being adored.

  His lips graced her buttocks; her skin puckered as he suctioned her flesh. Her loins cried out for attention, but she waited. This was his night. Smiling inwardly, she rephrased that thought—this was very definitely becoming her night.

  She had never known how sensitive the back of her knees were. At last, he turned her over again and his tongue inched its way around her waist, down her inner thighs, and then back up to that ultimate prize.

  She was so wet there was no need for further preparation. Undaunted, Ed continued to explore and apparently memorize. All her senses were drawn to that one singular tingly spot. Maggie could wait no longer; she bucked in response to his probing tongue. She was about to explode into a thousand pieces. She felt him press his open mouth firmly against her straining sex, as if by doing so he could keep her from dismantling. Maggie grabbed his head, pulled his ears, locked his body to herself with her powerful legs; rapidly, she lost herself in an exquisiteness so rare she hadn’t even known it existed.

  - o -

  Minutes later, Ed still smiled into her wetness. He savored her nectar clinging to him like a protective shield. Had he become addicted to Maggie Anderson’s taste?

  If there was but one truth in his life, then he knew what it was—there was no way he wanted to live without Maggie. Memories, while powerful, would never be enough.

  At last, Maggie’s legs loosened their grip on him. “I want to feel you in me, Ed,” she panted. “No more exploring. Please. Just love me.”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing?” Ed teased, easing her over onto her stomach.