by Debra Holt
Davis wasn’t a man to second guess himself… usually. Except, he had been doing a lot of that since coming face-to-face with Stacy Smith in that hotel gym. No woman had ever had such an effect upon his senses and he had been intrigued and then some. What the “some” was, he didn’t place a name on. He needed more time to examine the strange feelings when he was alone. Standing in a hospital corridor wasn’t the place or time. While he waited for Stacy to be released, his mind went over the last few days. Had it only been a matter of under a couple of weeks?
When she had walked toward him yesterday afternoon in the lobby of her building, his whole body took quite a jolt and his pulses had set off like a thundering herd of mustangs. He wasn’t a man given to public displays of affection, at least not until he met her. There was a definite yearning inside him to sweep her up against him and taste her tempting pink lips. Could they be as soft and sweet as his imagination led him to believe?
In the elevator, he had found himself attracted not only to her beauty but there was something else he couldn’t put a name to. She had brought out more feelings in those few minutes than he had experienced before with any female in his thirty-eight years of life. He knew an overwhelming need to not let her go until he had it figured out. But she had left him… because he was a cowboy. The woman definitely had some issues there. He understood more about them as she had opened up on their ride into the country the day before.
Unfortunately, she had a rough time of it growing up. Her mother had not been like his. He had seen what happened to people along the way when their childhood injuries… both the physical and emotional ones… were skewered. Stacy had a fighting spirit and she had drawn on that reservoir to sustain her through some disgusting circumstances. He could probably talk until he was blue in the face about how she was coloring all men with one crayon. But he had to hope by showing her some of his world, and the good people in it, her mind might open a bit to possibilities… that it might open enough to give him a chance.
His father had once told him to trust his gut instinct in all things. It had served him well. His gut instinct that first meeting with Stacy had told him she was someone who was about to change his life. And with each moment with her since, that had only been reinforced. And then, when he had found her in the clearing, he had experienced the highest of highs that she was alright… and yet, when the man took aim at her with a gun, a cold fear like none other had gripped his heart and he had reacted. He had some sorting to do in his mind, but he was still trying his best to exercise restraint.
However, his restraint left him in the exam room. She had sat there looking so forlorn and vulnerable and his instincts took over as he had gathered her to him. He was encouraged by the fact she didn’t throw up her bristles when he had instinctively drawn her into his arms. The fact she seemed to welcome his embrace had brought all sorts of sensations racing through him and he was sliding down a slippery slope of no return. Especially after he took the chance and kissed her last night as he was leaving the house. And he had been elated at her response. Cautiously optimistic was better. He hoped for the best in most things but she still had reservations and he could wait. As long as it took… he knew without a doubt the wait would be worth everything.
*
The door opened and Stacy stepped out of the room with the nurse not far behind. At the same moment, an orderly appeared with a wheel chair.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I can walk just fine,” Stacy spoke up, eyeing the chair.
“It’s hospital policy,” Davis replied before the nurse could do the same. “It’s the only way you’re getting out of here today.”
Stacy wanted to tell them what they could do with the chair and their policy but she was beginning to get that “weak as a kitten” feeling again in her limbs. She sank down into the chair and let them do as they would with her. Soon, she was outside with the bright sunshine on her. She was grateful for the strong arms that practically lifted her from the ground and slid her onto the leather seat. Davis made certain she was seated comfortably inside his truck before he shut the door.
The combination of warmth and movement and meds were potent. Stacy was surprised to realize she had fallen asleep almost as soon as they pulled away from the hospital. She only woke when Davis cut the engine and opened the door of his truck. Her eyes took in the fact they were in front of his home once more. She wasn’t certain she would ever see it again. “Why are we here? I thought we were going back to the city?”
“It’s best you get some rest and be close enough to the doctor in case you need to see him again. Plus, the local district attorney will need some questions answered tomorrow before you leave. Give it twenty-four hours and then we’ll get you home.” Davis didn’t wait for a response.
He walked around the truck and opened her door. She went to step out, but he was quicker and, before she knew it, he had swung her up into his arms.
“I can walk, you know. I’m not an invalid.”
“I’m sure you aren’t, but it makes me feel useful. So, you can humor me.”
Humor him. Who was humoring whom? Her pleas to put her down fell on deaf ears. He set her on her feet again only when they reached his bedroom. Frying pan to the fire. She needed all her strength faced with her current predicament but she couldn’t summon much.
The bedcovers were turned back and she had to admit it looked very inviting. Davis stepped to the chest of drawers, opened the top one and then closed it. He came back to stand in front of her with a neatly folded shirt held in his hands.
He presented it to her. “Put this on and I’ll get your clothes laundered while you sleep.”
Next, he walked into the adjoining bathroom and came out a few moments later with a glass of water and two small white pills in the palm of his hand. “This is the pain pill and the antibiotic that the doctor prescribed. After you get some sleep, we can see about a shower for you. I’ll check back in a few minutes to get your clothing and see if you need anything else.” For a moment, he looked as if he were about to say something else, but changed his mind. He left her alone.
Stacy felt every bone in her body. Part of her mind wanted to argue with him, but another part just wanted to put her head on that oh-so-soft looking pillow. That was the part that won out. As soon as the door closed behind him, Stacy went into the bathroom, changed out of her soiled and slightly torn clothing into the soft flannel shirt, took the prescribed medication, and slid under the comforter. She purposely avoided the mirrors. She had managed to sponge off and look presentable in the small restroom in the exam room at the hospital. She had no energy to do anything else. Pulling the bedcovers up, she turned on her side. It felt like heaven. She was curled up on a soft cloud… floating along… safe and warm and home. A slight smile curved her mouth.
*
Stacy did not stir when several minutes later the door opened and Davis quietly approached the side of the bed. He stood for a few moments watching her sleep, her hand tucked against the side of her head, her body half curled into a fetal position under the covers. She was definitely in a deep sleep.
A smile came to him as he looked down at her. He had her in his bed. Not exactly as he might have envisioned it to happen, but still it was a start. Stacy Smith was quite a woman… not only beautiful but obstinate and courageous. What other woman would have listened to her gut instinct and headed off in the dark of night into the woods on a hunch, looking for a kidnapped child? While she might exhibit a strong side on the exterior, there was a vulnerable one, too. She kept it hidden for the most part, but he had caught a glimpse of it a couple of times. She would fight anyone tooth and nail rather than admit it.
A realization was taking hold in the center of his chest. His life had changed from what he had known, to the uncharted territory he stood his ground in now. Stacy Smith had walked right into his heart and he had no idea what to do about it. She made it very clear that friendship was the only option available. And then he had changed his side
of the bargain. She wanted no part of a cowboy. Yet, for all her bravado and denial, he couldn’t help feeling that she had softened in that stance in the last couple of days. Davis slowly bent down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
*
The next time Stacy opened her eyes, the room was dark, except for a sliver of light coming from the hallway through the semi-closed bedroom door. She quietly lay on her side for a few moments, giving her mind time to focus, as well as her eyes. That was when the faint aroma of something wafting up from downstairs brought a rumble of response from her stomach.
Not able to resist any longer, she moved the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Stacy’s palms gripped the side of the mattress. The rest of the room took a few moments to settle down around her. The doctor had been right. There were aches and soreness in places she had not expected. Her head had to be the after affects from the pain meds she had taken.
When was that? She wasn’t too clear on the passage of time. She managed to stand and make her way into the bathroom. A wince came from her as she glimpsed her reflection in the mirror. After splashing some cool water on her face, she ran a comb through her hair. Just as she guessed, she found even more leaf debris hidden in it. Shower or food? The stomach won out.
After she was reasonably satisfied she had done her best with her hair, she looked for her clothing, but found no sign of it. Then the memory of Davis having said something about it before she fell asleep jogged into her brain. He said something about laundering it.
Her gaze fell to the huge blue and white plaid, flannel shirt she wore at the moment. It covered a fair amount of her body. It was definitely one of Davis’s. The sleeves had to be rolled up quite a bit on her arms. Add a belt and it could have passed for a dress. Its sizing might not be the best fashion, but it had other qualities.
Its softness felt nice on her bruised skin and there was a faint smell of the man lingering on the fabric and that was also pleasantly comforting. It would have to suffice until she could find her own things. Her bare feet made little noise as she crossed the room and padded to the head of the stairs. There was the faint sound of fingers working on a computer keyboard somewhere on the floor below, just out of her sight. He must be in his office.
Stacy was two steps from reaching the bottom floor when the familiar deep voice made her pause.
“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?” The voice came from her right.
Davis stood there, his analytical gaze slid slowly over her from head to toe, softening as it returned to meet her eyes. She hoped that wasn’t another blush making her cheeks feel suddenly warm. There was no way to stand nonchalantly composed in front of this man when his gaze was the same as if his hand had touched her wherever it fell in his assessment.
His blue eyes were far too potent and her resistance level was way too low. The fact she stood clad only in his shirt, alone in his home, with his bedroom not far away… well it was one of those moments that would be a real page turner in one of her books. But it was reality and she had no idea what to do next. She felt decidedly at the disadvantage.
Slightly nervous fingers tucked her hair behind her left ear. Her other hand curled around the wood railing beside her. In her bare feet and standing on the second step, she was still not quite eye level with him. However, it was still too close for her to easily be able to respond with coherent thoughts.
“My head feels a little like it’s stuffed with cotton and, the doctor was right, I’m very sore where the scratches are and stiff in other places. I think I’ll live though,” she finished, along with what she hoped was a brave smile.
“You’ve got to be hungry. Darcy brought over a pot of homemade chicken soup earlier. Think you’re up for some?”
“That’s the aroma.” She managed a wider smile. “That’s what brought me down here. I think I can certainly eat something.”
“I can bring a tray upstairs, or if you think you’re up for it, we can get you into the kitchen.”
“I think the kitchen is my choice. If I—” Her words were cut off when her feet left the step. He was very quick. “Really… I can walk.”
“Just humor me.” Davis spoke with a smile, his arms carrying her as if she was but a feather and as fragile as spun glass. “It’s good for my ego. Besides, I haven’t been able to get to the gym the last couple of days. You’re helping me out.”
He was definitely finding the whole scenario amusing. That much was evident. They reached the kitchen table and he bent to place her in the chair. That brought his mouth much closer to her eye level and her gaze was mesmerized by its perfect shape. She remembered how nice it had felt on hers. The meds were playing with her mind. That was the excuse she was going with for having such thoughts.
“What else can I do for you?”
Stacy’s eyes blinked a time or two at the words. Could he read minds? Then she realized he had to be talking about something else… or was he? He was close enough she noted the darker shading around the center of his deep ocean blue eyes. She really needed to keep things light between them. Her head was still too foggy to match wits with the man in her weakened state.
“Darcy was really sweet to bring the food.”
If he noted anything about her purposeful change of subject, he didn’t let on. Davis slowly moved away to the cabinet, opened one of the doors and began taking out bowls. He then ladled them with Darcy’s aromatic soup. Stacy watched in silence as Davis set the soup bowls, along with a basket of warm bread, and a couple of glasses of tea on the table between them.
“I feel useless sitting here while you wait on me. This is going far above being a good host… allowing me to crash in your bed and now feeding me. The last thing I want to be is an inconvenience.”
Davis sent her a smile as he pulled out his own chair and seated himself. “I think I said much the same thing to you just last evening at this very table. I confess I had a different scenario in mind when I said I would treat you to dinner next time. But I won’t complain if you don’t. Believe me, this is not an inconvenience of any kind. In fact, it’s very nice, having you here to share my house and another meal. I could get used to it.”
His words, coupled with the look that darkened his sexy eyes, made her pulses skip more than a time or two. Try not to look at him. It was time to get back to safer ground while she could.
Stacy took a spoonful of the soup and broke out into a pleased smile. “This soup really is delicious. You’re lucky to have a sister who is such a great cook. And living close by… she can drop in with food for you anytime. I confess I did note the containers in your refrigerator from the diner. That must be nice.”
“I suppose it does have its advantages. However, there are other times when it can be a real pain,” Davis responded, taking a sip of his drink.
“Other times?”
“When she tries to lecture me on my eating habits, or when she tries to play matchmaker.”
“Matchmaker?” That word alerted on her brain. Stacy didn’t know how she felt about that news. It was more than a little unsettling. “She thinks you need to settle down, and you don’t?”
“I do want to settle down, but I’ll do it on my own time and in my own way.”
“Is that why you’re working on this house?” Stacy ignored the little voice warning her to stick to safer subjects and more shallow water.
“Yes, I think it’s a good place to raise a family. This land’s been home to five generations of the McKenna family. I hope to carry on that tradition. There are a lot of good memories that Darcy and I have growing up here. There are a lot more to be made.” His eyes held warmth in their depths that was almost palpable when he spoke of his plans.
They touched something within the region of her heart. It was an area she noted more than once of late that he had no trouble reaching. Stacy could picture him in this house, seated at the dining room table, with a wife and three or four children. It was a pleasant thought, and a sad one. She did
n’t dwell on why it saddened her.
“It’s a beautiful house. You can certainly be proud of the restoration work you’re doing. I’m surprised you have the time though.”
“Thanks. I’m very glad you like it. Once it’s completed, it’ll be a good home for a family for a few more generations. And I make time for it. It’s a good stress reliever from the job. I suppose it’s far different from what you’re used to, given your address in the city.”
“Actually,” she replied, with an unguarded wistful tone in her voice as she toyed with the last of the bread on her plate, “this is the kind of place I wanted to grow up in… at least in my daydreams. You and Darcy were lucky, having this house and all the room to roam and ride your horses, have dogs and cats and whatever else. You have deep roots in this community. You have a history and you know where you belong. You developed lifelong friends in a town like this.”
“Wasn’t there ever a place you felt you belonged?”
“Not really. We moved around quite a bit in my mother’s vain attempt to lasso the right cowboy… or at least the right one for that moment. Although, I must admit, it all wasn’t for nothing. I did see a lot more of Texas than most kids experience. It also made me much more independent in spirit,” she finished, along with a slight smile. “I don’t expect people to feel sorry for me. I had it a lot better than some kids. It gave me a maturity that others might not have. It’s not bad when you can make a positive from any situation.”
There was a length of silence. Davis stood, picking up their used bowls and utensils and carrying them to the sink. “You are definitely that… an independent spirit.”
“Is that bad?”
He turned toward her after he placed the dishes in the dishwasher, added the detergent, and then pressed the power button.
There was a thoughtful tilt of his head as he considered her. “No, that’s never a bad thing… unless you take it to the extreme and then it can become reckless.”
Stacy straightened in her chair and her chin rose a bit. Her eyes locked on his. “You think that’s what I did when I went out on my own to investigate those lights?”
