Too bad he couldn’t say the same about himself. He doused the grill with water for the last time and checked to be sure there was nothing left on the long folding table Lyn had set out, but the women had cleaned up everything. Even the table cover was gone.
He stepped through the mudroom into the kitchen, hanging his hat and jacket on their hooks. Glancing at his watch, he decided it was too late to watch the weather. He’d catch it tomorrow. One of the other ranchers had said it was supposed to get cold over the weekend.
As he put up a hand to switch off the kitchen lights, Lyn walked in from the living room with her hands full of used paper cups and plates. “Wait right there,” she said. “I have to toss these out. I forgot to check the inside of the house when we were cleaning up.”
He waited, one hand on the light switch. As she dumped the load into the trash, she glanced at him. “I didn’t mean it literally.”
He should have grinned and said something light. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I was angry with you earlier.”
Her head came up, and she held his gaze as she moved to the sink to wash her hands. “Apology accepted.” Pause. “Who were you angry with, then?”
He shrugged. “Nobody. Seeing my mother here just caught me off guard.”
“You weren’t pleased to see her.”
He exhaled heavily, and his hand fell away from the switch. “It was a surprise.”
Lyn was silent. She dried her hands on a dish towel and slowly, methodically folded it over the oven handle.
“I grew up out here with my father,” he found himself saying. “I don’t know her that well.”
One dark eyebrow rose, then her expressive face settled into a smooth blank mask. “The only memory I have of my mother is this song she used to sing at bedtime. She sat on the edge of my bed and rubbed my back and sang.”
“I don’t have any memories of my mother from my childhood,” he said, not even knowing why he was telling her. “She left my father and me and went back to Virginia before I was a year old. I never even met her until I was six and my father sent me to visit for a week one summer. After that, I went every summer. For a week or two. Then after I graduated high school I lived there for a little while until I started college.”
Lyn knew why he’d left Kadoka after high school. Deck Stryker’s twin sister had died in that accident, and Deck had blamed Cal at the time. “Have you ever asked her why she left?”
“I know why. It was too rough and rural for her. Not as civilized as good ol’ Virginny.”
“But have you ever talked to her about it?”
“No.” He reached up abruptly and switched off the lights. “I’m bushed. Good night.”
“You should, you know.” Her voice came from behind him in the darkened kitchen. “While you still can.”
He stepped aside and allowed her to precede him out of the kitchen. She was a silent shadow in the nighttime quiet of the old house, but he could discern the straight line of her back as she walked ahead of him toward the stairs. As she set one foot on the first step, he reached out and caught her wrist. Instantly, she stilled, but she didn’t turn to face him.
“Don’t judge me,” he said in a low voice.
She did turn then, stepping back down. Her hair drifted around her and he could smell the clean scent of the fragrance his sister had given her for her birthday. And though it had to be his imagination, he could feel the heat of her body only inches from his, searing him with hot interest.
“I’m not judging you.” Her voice was low, too, aimed at the floor.
“You’re not happy with me.” Her wrist felt so fragile beneath his big hand that he was sure one careless move could break a bone. Slowly, stealthily, he stroked his thumb along the delicate veins he could feel beneath the skin. Her pulse beat there and he pressed lightly, counting the rapid beats in silence.
“No,” she said, still looking down. “I’m not. I’m saddened. Disappointed. You’re a good person, Cal. You took me in out of the kindness of your heart. I can’t believe you wouldn’t extend that same kindness to your own mother.”
The words stung. He seized on the one statement that he could face. “I told you when you came that I’d give you a chance and you could stay if you could handle it. You’ve earned a place here. I’m not motivated by kindness.”
He lifted his other hand and circled her neck, using his thumb beneath her chin to lift her head. Her eyes gleamed in the shadowed night; then she lowered her lids. He inspected her features and his thumb crept up to probe at her bottom lip.
“Why did you kiss me the other day?” He could tell by the way her eyes snapped wide and her body jerked a little bit that he’d startled her with the change of topic.
The silence stretched breathlessly as their eyes caught, held, spoke of things unsaid. Then she shrugged, a small smile curving the corners of her lovely lips. “It seemed like the thing to do.”
He nodded, considered. “How does it feel now?”
“Like…” She smiled, a shy smile that held growing knowledge, and her eyes caught the moonlight and sparkled. “Like the thing to do?”
She was tired; so was he. It probably was a huge mistake, but he was sick of forcing himself to back away from the woman every cell in his body told him to touch. With intense deliberation, he slid one arm around her, his gaze locked with hers. Then control fell away and he swiftly pulled her against him, forcing her legs to part and pressing himself into her body. He heard her draw in a startled breath. His other hand shifted to clasp her chin and he placed his mouth on hers, swamped by an overwhelming sense of relief at the feel of her soft mouth beneath his.
She was as still as a doe in a meadow beneath his hands. Losing himself in the experience, he molded her lips for long moments, barely aware that she was beginning to respond as his body urged him on. This was the woman he wanted, the woman he’d dreamed of every day for weeks. Using his tongue to trace the outline of her lips, he flicked it lightly across the closed seam until her body relaxed in his arms. She made a soft sound, a sigh or moan, deep in her throat, and a hot rush of awareness coursed through him. She was pliant and willing, exactly as he’d wanted her to be, and she was real.
Her palms slipped into his hair, spearing through it to cradle his scalp. It felt so intimate that he shifted again, moving both hands to her back to stroke and mold her to his longer, larger frame. He slanted his head and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to open her lips, slipping inside and then sucking her tongue lightly, encouraging her to explore his mouth as he explored hers. When her tongue tentatively met his, he groaned deep in his throat and a shudder worked its way down his backbone. Her delicate hands slipped down to grip his shoulders, and he dragged a hand to the back of her neck, plunging it deep into the thick mass of her hair and holding her head still.
His body was on fire, burning as hot as the prairie grass had last week, and he tightened his arm around her waist, drawing her onto her toes. He walked her backward until she came up against the wall, until all that held her up was his hard, aching body pinning her in place. His breath caught in his throat; he thrust his hips against her again and again in a mindless haze of need. His body had been begging for her touch for days and it felt better, more right than anything ever had before in his life. Within minutes, he could feel the urgent beat of impending release rushing through him with relentless force. He had to have her now. Putting a hand between them, he fumbled for the zipper on her jeans—
And then someone whimpered. A hand came down and closed over his, breaking his concentration, and he realized it was Lyn whimpering, Lyn’s hand clasped tightly about his.
He froze. So did Lyn, her slim body growing stiff and still in his embrace.
Holy hell! He released her as if she were boiling and stepped back as her feet touched the ground, spinning to face away from her. Scrubbing both hands over his face, he took a long moment to remember who and where he was as he forced himself to ignore the rag
ing demands of his flesh. What had happened?
What do you mean, what happened? The inner voice was mocking. You almost took your own employee by force.
“Lyn—” His voice was deep and strained. “My God, Lyn, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—” Well, that wasn’t true, but… “There’s no excuse for my behavior. I promise you it will never happen again.”
Is that a promise you’re going to be able to keep?
Of course it was. He wasn’t an animal, driven by instinct. He was a man. And Lyn was a woman who’d been manhandled enough in her life. Remorse struck and he flinched beneath its whip as he remembered the hell of a marriage she’d been trapped in. What had his thoughtless mauling done to her?
There was silence behind him, and he realized she still hadn’t said a word. In fact, he didn’t think she’d moved at all. His mind flashed a vivid mental picture of her cowering against the wall as he slowly turned around. And his worst fears were realized.
She hadn’t moved. One hand covered the luscious lips he’d been devouring. Another memory intruded and he forced himself to forget that for a moment or two, or more, her mouth had moved under his and her tongue had joined his in a seeking, slippery dance of foreplay.
He swore violently under his breath, and her eyelids flinched, as if each word were a stroke of a whip on her soft skin. “Lyn,” he said again. “I’m sorry. If you want to leave, I’ll understand. I’m sure you can stay with Silver. I can take you over there right now and have someone bring your things tomorrow—”
She dropped her hand from her mouth, and her eyes flared wide in the shadows. “Are you dismissing me?”
“Of course not.” He was making a huge hash of this.
“I’d like to keep my job.” Her voice was low and intense, huskier than usual, and his damned stupid body reacted to the throaty, sexy tone as if it hadn’t figured out the fun was over.
“I’d like you to keep your job,” he said. “I swear you’ll never have to worry about me manhandling you again.”
Her eyes grew blank and she dropped her gaze from his. After another tense moment of silence, she turned from him and walked sedately up the stairs, treating him to an eyeful of rounded bottom that did nothing to quell the fires inside him.
His body was still hard and throbbing, but he was so glad she hadn’t run screaming that he didn’t say a word. He started to the second floor behind her, castigating himself with every step. What was wrong with him, forcing himself on a defenseless soul like Lyn? Granted, he wanted her with an almost painful intensity every day, but he knew that was only a reaction to their forced proximity. He just needed to get away from her for a little while, maybe call that widow in Rapid or meet some other woman with whom he could have a hot, harmless fling, and then everything would be fine.
If that’s all you need, then why didn’t you jump Marty’s date the other week?
Shut up, he wanted to snarl at the voice in his head. He reached the top of the stairs and tried one more time, aiming his words at the back of her head.
“Lyn, I’m sorry. I’ll say it as many—”
“Don’t apologize.” Her voice carried a snap of authority that surprised him and shut him up in mid-sentence. Then she whirled, and the look in her eyes froze him in his tracks. She placed a hand right in the middle of his chest, palm flat against him, searing his flesh like a hot branding iron. “In three years of marriage, my husband’s kisses never made me feel like that. I’m not sorry and I’d rather you weren’t, either.”
As her words rang in his head, he turned them over and over. He’d frightened her. Hadn’t he? He’d practically forced her. Hadn’t he? He wasn’t sure of anything at the moment except that somehow, someway, Lyn had forgiven him already for his crude advance.
No. She hadn’t just forgiven him, he realized. She’d liked his touch, his caress, his kiss. As he struggled to fit together the confusing pieces of the puzzle that was his housekeeper, the heated emerald of desire that had shone from her eyes lingered in his mind, prodding his body with inescapable memories, making it impossible to forget how she’d felt wrapped around him earlier. And as she said good-night and disappeared into her room at the other end of the hall from his, he wondered where in hell this crazy attraction was going.
He couldn’t see an end, couldn’t imagine one that wasn’t messy and hurtful. And that made him pause. He liked Lyn. Both as a friend and as a hardworking faithful employee. And he knew that as badly as he wanted her, sex would ruin all that. He might be on fire for her now, but he’d been on fire for women before and had managed to resist leaping into the flames.
He’d just have to resist this time, too.
Five
An inch of ice had formed on the stock tanks and over the dam when Cal checked the next day. It was a sure sign the weather was turning. He broke the ice and then started distributing cake since the grass was too short to fatten the cattle.
He got into the yard in midafternoon with three cows and calves that needed to be weaned. The bawling was still echoing in his head when he went into the house to clean up and start on the monthly ledger.
Lyn was in the kitchen rolling out something with a rolling pin and he hollered hello, then went to take a shower. She was still working at it when he came into the kitchen twenty minutes later.
Strolling over to the counter, he eyed her work. “Pie dough?” he asked hopefully, letting her know from his tone that he was willing to keep it light if she was. He wondered how things would be between them after last night.
She shook her head. “Slippery pot pie. I had a taste for it.” She smiled at him and he saw that her eyes were faraway in another time. “My aunt used to make it.”
“Your aunt?” Lyn rarely spoke of herself or her childhood and he was curious. Just natural, he told himself. I’d be curious about anyone.
“After my mother died, she used to take me over to her place every now and then. I wouldn’t know beans about cooking if it wasn’t for her.”
“Judging from your skills, she must have known more than beans,” he said honestly. “You’re a great cook.”
“Thanks.” Her fair skin flushed lightly beneath the golden freckles that dotted her face.
“You’ve never mentioned any family. If you’d like to invite anyone over, it’s not a problem.”
Her face closed up instantly. “My aunt isn’t living anymore. She was the only family I had other than my father.”
Her hands were clenched into small fists over the handles of the rolling pin and he reached across the counter and laid his palms over hers, gently prying her fingers off the handles and straightening them out of their tense state. “I didn’t mean to make you think of unhappy things.” And it was true. It was just that he was intensely curious about Lyn’s childhood. She’d told him little more than he already knew, that she’d grown up without a mother on an isolated ranch with an alcoholic father. How had she stayed so sweet, so soft and gentle? Why hadn’t she grown tough, lost the air of innocence that surrounded her like the subtle perfume she wore when she dressed up?
“It’s all right.” She exhaled slowly, then picked up the roller again. “My memories of my aunt are wonderful ones. She was warm and funny and she used to bake chocolate-chip cookies every time I came over.”
“Mrs. Stryker used to make cookies a lot.” It was one of his own fond memories. “I never had anything like that around since it was just me and Dad, and going over there was like heaven.” He smiled. “I should have learned to bake them.”
“You should have.” She grinned at him. “Who says a man can’t learn to cook?”
“I can cook now,” he informed her with great dignity. “In New York, I lived alone in an apartment. It was either cook or eat takeout for every meal.”
“What’s it like? In New York, I mean?” Her tone was unconsciously longing.
“Rushed. Like an anthill. People hurrying everywhere you look.” He chuckled. “It’s impossible to imagine unless
you see it for yourself. The buildings are so high you feel like you can’t get enough air or light. It’s exciting. But I never got used to it.”
“But you were there for…”
“Six years. And I never stopped looking out my window expecting to see prairie. When I decided to move back, I felt like I’d finally taken the step I’d been considering for a long time, even though I didn’t realize it.”
“I guess it was a thrill to learn your old home was for sale.”
He nodded, then remembered it had been her home, too, for a while. “Does it make you happy to be back?”
She hesitated, and he saw the flat blank look he hated slide over her face yet again. “My memories of living here aren’t…that good.” She jerked her head in the direction of the outbuildings. “I spent a lot of time in the barn, grooming horses and such.”
“Hiding.”
She glanced at him. “I suppose so.”
“From your father?”
She nodded, one quick, short jerk of the head.
“I’m sorry if it brings back bad memories.”
Her head flew up, making her hair dance wildly around her shoulders. “Oh, I don’t mind being here now. You’ve made it a completely different place and I love being here with you— I mean, I love living at the ranch and working for you.”
The telephone rang with a shrill br-r-r-ring, interrupting their conversation.
The intrusive noise irritated Cal. He felt as if he’d been on the verge of some meaningful discussion, some irretrievable moment that was gone forever now. Holding Lyn’s gaze with his own, he slowly rose as the phone rang a second time, then he reached over and lifted the handset.
“McCall.”
“Hello, Cal.”
He straightened in his seat, suddenly wary. “Hello, Mother.” He sensed Lyn’s attention in the way her hands stilled on the rolling pin.
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