"Seems he's met his match. That stallion is sure a stubborn one," Pete said. "But Case won't give up. I know that boy and when he wants something bad enough, nothing stops him."
Sarah shuddered. Case had taken a hard fall. She'd noticed a grimace of pain streak across his face before he'd put on a smile for his audience. "I can't watch this."
Pete grinned. "He's all right, Sarah. No need to worry over him."
"I'm not worried, Pete." But Sarah knew Pete could see straight through her. She was worried about Case. She cared for him more than she wanted to admit. She couldn't stand by and watch him punish his body that way. Heck, Case had made a living riding bucking broncos, but she'd never had to witness it before. "I've got to get the baby down for her nap. I'll see you later, Pete."
Another wave of groans from the crowd told Sarah, Case had taken another fall. She dashed into the house and closed the door. "Living with your uncle is a trial I surely wasn't expecting," she whispered to the baby.
Sarah spent the next thirty minutes nursing Christiana and humming a soft lullaby to get her down for her afternoon nap. Christiana loved her naps, thank goodness, and the baby fell right to sleep.
Sarah kissed her softly on the forehead and laid her down in her crib. Tiptoeing out of the room, Sarah bumped into a rock solid chest. "Oh, sorry," she whispered.
Case backed away, his fresh lime scent drifting away with him. "No problem."
Not for him, she thought. Heat shot up her spine from the innocent contact and she knew for certain that unruly hormones had nothing to do with it. Case's presence created a fiery furnace in her body and his touch, the strike of ignition.
"Did you break the stallion?" she asked.
On a modest shrug, he nodded. "Yep. Is Christie asleep?"
"Yes, she's napping."
"Wait right here, Sarah," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I've got something for you."
Sarah stood motionless in stunned silence, waiting, her curiosity peaked. When Case came out of his room a moment later, holding a ring box in his hand, all sorts of strange sensations played havoc with her mind.
But nothing compared to the heart-wrenching emotion Sarah experienced when Case opened the box and handed her grandmother's emerald ring back to her. Tears immediately welled up and her heart pounded hard and furiously against her chest. "Oh, C-Case. I c-can't believe what I'm s-seeing. H-how did you get this?"
"Bobbi Sue gave me some details and I hunted down the jeweler who bought the ring."
"B-but I was just with Bobbi Sue and she didn't mention anything." Sarah's hand trembled as she gazed down at the ring that had been in her family for generations. Her body shook with joy, heartache and myriad emotions she couldn't name.
"I asked her not to say anything."
"I—I, uh, I don't know what to say."
Sarah peered into his eyes then her gaze went to his lips. She wanted to kiss that somber twitch away, to show him how much this meant to her. She wanted his arms around her, the way they'd been the other night when Pretty Girl had had her colt. She wanted more from Case than his brooding eyes would allow.
"Say you'll never get a fool notion in your head again about selling off your ring." Case cast her a stern look.
Tears streamed down freely now. She couldn't hold them back. But her heart swelled with joy. "Okay, I promise."
"Then, that's all there is for you to say."
"Thank you, Case. I could say that, too. It means...it means so much to me."
She clutched the ring to her chest.
Case granted her a quick smile before a frown stole over his face. He glanced down at his right wrist. It was two sizes larger than the other one. "Case! What happened?"
"Nothing. It'll be all right. I landed on it wrong when the stallion threw me. It's just bruised."
Strawberry-red and completely swollen, Sarah doubted Case had merely bruised his wrist. "It doesn't look good, Case. Let me ice it to get the swelling down. Then we can see how bad it is."
Case backed away, shaking his head. "No, thanks. I'll have Pete take a look at it. He can wrap it if he thinks it's necessary."
"O-okay," Sarah said, hesitantly. If Case didn't want her help, she couldn't force the issue. He was still angry with her. "But let me know if you need anything."
He smiled again, another brief lifting of his lips. "I won't." She watched him head down the stairs and a feeling of dire desolation churned in her belly. He didn't want anything to do with her and oddly now, Sarah wanted everything to do with him.
Later that night, Case rested his head on his pillow, stretched out flat on his back on the bed, favoring his right hand. Pete had taped it this afternoon, thinking that after the swelling went down somewhat, the wrist should be immobilized.
He had better things to do than busting stubborn stallions, but the challenge had been made and Case rarely backed down from a challenge. More so, he owed Bart Winslow a favor and though it put his wrist sorely out of commission, he hadn't minded climbing up on that feisty paint. For old time's sake.
His rodeo days were behind him now. He'd made up his mind not to go back. Leaving Sarah and little Christie just wasn't in the cards. He wanted to settle down, stay on the ranch and make a go of it, with the two of them by his side. He wanted roots again. He was through ambling from town to town, competing during the day and engaging in rowdy rodeo antics at night. None of that mattered now.
He wanted the family that he, Sarah and Christie seemed to portray to the world.
He wanted Sarah for his own.
Wanting and getting were two entirely different matters.
Hell, he was still smarting from Sarah's lack of faith in him. He hated the thought that she'd never change her mind about him, no matter what he did, or how he tried to prove otherwise. Sarah would always look upon him as the bad seed, the brother who had abandoned the ranch when he had been most needed. She'd always see him as the man who had played one too many hurtful pranks on her.
The truth of it was, Case really believed Sarah had deep down, honest, feelings for him. When they'd made love, she'd responded with fiery passion and sizzling heat.
There was no denying that they had a connection, an electrifying spark that left them both yearning for more. He knew Sarah wasn't the type of woman to make love to a man without genuine feelings. She'd said she'd needed him, and he understood that, but she'd wanted him, too. She'd told him with every female sigh, every arch of her willing body and every whimper of pleasure that she'd wanted him as much as he did her.
Yet, she wouldn't allow her feelings to surface. She wouldn't see him for the man that he was. Case couldn't abide by that. He was through trying. This was one challenge he wouldn't take on, because the pain of losing would make living here, under the same roof with Sarah, far too hard to bear. He'd pretty much reconciled himself to life on the ranch, watching out for Sarah and the baby, loving them in distant silence and most important, keeping the vow he'd made to his brother. With decided resignation, Case closed his eyes and hoped welcomed peace would claim him.
Little Christie's cries from the nursery put a smile on his face. Case rose from the bed, slipping on his jeans with his left hand and walked into the nursery. Dim yellow hues created by an angel cherub night-light cast the room in a dewy glow. "Hello, little beauty," he said, bending over the crib.
Christie stopped crying the minute she saw him, giving him a bright-eyed look that warmed his heart. At least, this female appreciated the love he had to offer. And he wouldn't let her down. Not ever.
Case picked her up. "Want to rock a bit?" he whispered, taking her up in his left arm then moving to the rocker. "We'll let your mama sleep."
Christie cuddled close to his chest, grabbing at his hairs, making him cringe from the tight grasp she had on him. "Easy now," he said with pride, uncurling her fingers a bit. "There, that's better." Jarretts were strong and even this little one displayed her strength with powerful hair-tu
gging hands.
Case began humming a cowboy tune they used to sing around the campfires at night. He didn't know any lullabies.
"Hi," Sarah whispered, coming into the room. She wore an oversize white T-shirt, that landed somewhere just above her knees. Glimmering light cast her in silhouette, her form outlined by the soft radiance. Case stopped humming and swallowed hard, noting the contours, the pebbled peaks lifting the shirt up higher in front than in back. There was slight moisture there, just a hint of it, but enough for Case to know, Sarah was ready to nurse the baby. "I guess she's not going to sleep through tonight. I didn't hear her, but woke just a minute ago and came to check on her. Did she cry?"
It hurt to look at Sarah, to know the life they could have, if only she'd allow it. Anger and pain surfaced again taking hold of him. "She cried."
Sarah stood above him, watching him snuggle with the baby. Awkward silence ensued. Sarah shifted her stance and Case tried damn hard not to notice the sway of material, the way it pushed tight against her breasts. Damn hard. Problem was, he couldn't forget touching her there, his hands roving over each swell, his body growing harder each time she moaned from the pleasure.
"I can take her," she offered, reaching her arms out. "I, uh, need to feed her."
Carefully Case rose from the rocker. He handed the baby over to her. Instantly she noticed his wrapped wrist. "How's the injury?"
He shrugged. "I'll live."
Sarah nibbled on her lower lip and nodded, those blue eyes filled with hesitation. "Thanks for getting up for her."
"No thanks necessary. She's my niece."
"I know, but I don't expect you to—"
"Christie is my flesh and blood, Sarah. I love her. You're just going to have to get used to that."
Case strode out of the room before he said any more. He'd been harsh and cold and every cell in his body screamed Jerk, Jerk, Jerk. Yet, it was his only defense, holding on to his anger and pain was the only way he knew to protect himself, to keep from falling any harder for Sarah.
Ten
"Damn it!"
Sarah heard Case's oath from her bedroom. He'd cursed three times in as many minutes. Although he'd been in a sour mood lately, he hid his ornery disposition with infuriating politeness. Yet, Sarah knew, Case had been stung by her mistrust and after pondering it for a time she'd come to the conclusion that she owed the man a deep apology.
He'd come through in a big way, but Sarah hadn't given him an ounce of her faith. She'd believed him capable of abandoning her, the baby and the ranch. Yet, he'd not only proven that he'd been capable of fixing their monetary problems, he'd returned her grandmother's ring. It was by far the sweetest, most sincere gesture she'd ever received from him.
Yes, she owed him one heartfelt apology. It wouldn't come easy. She'd been putting it off for days, hoping to see a glimmer of the easygoing Case she knew him to be. But that Case had all but disappeared from the Triple R and she feared it was all due to her.
"Ah, hell!" His low raspy curse rattled her nerves.
On impulse, Sarah wandered toward his room, but instead, found him in the bathroom just off the hallway.
"Case?" She peeked inside the doorway and squinted against the early morning sun streaming through the curtains.
He turned to her, his face a patchwork of tiny tissues dotted with red blood. His blood. The man had been trying to shave with a bandaged and very sore wrist.
"What is it, Sarah?"
His frown was enough to back her up a step. "Uh, I heard you in here. Can I help?"
"No, I'm doing just fine."
He wasn't doing fine. He'd barely managed to scrap off one layer of his three-day growth of beard and there was more blood on his face than shaving cream.
"You're not doing just fine, Case Jarrett, and don't try to bulldoze me. You're bleeding all over the place."
"Well, shoot, Sarah. I can't get the right angle with my wrist hog-tied like it is."
"I know," she offered softly, taking a look at his bandaged wrist. "Have a seat and let me shave your beard."
He pointed his finger. ‘‘You?'' Dark eyes narrowed on her. "You know what you're doing?"
"Scared?"
His lips curved up slightly, a crooked smile erupting. Sarah realized she'd missed those smiles in the past few days. "Yep."
"Good, now take a seat." She gave him a little shove toward the bathtub rim and he plopped down, his brows arched and his expression, curious. "And watch me work." She handed him a moistened towel to wipe off the remnants of shave cream from his face.
"I don't know, Sarah..." he began, juggling the towel in his fist, ' 'putting a sharp razor in your hand and coming at my throat. If you'd wanted revenge—"
"For hiding all of Snowball's kittens and telling me she'd eaten them."
His lips twitched. "You were nine. I didn't really think you'd believe me."
"I was eight and I didn't, but I didn't know what you'd done with them, either."
His tone became defensive. "I wouldn't have hurt them. They were cute. And I gave them back that same afternoon."
"Hmm. And how about when I was in the seventh grade and you dumped water down my blouse right before I had to give my report on the Civil War?"
Case outwardly cringed, his expression filled with regret. ‘‘Can I apologize now, for that one?''
Sarah lifted the razor from the tile counter. "I worked the entire weekend on that report."
Case eyed her warily. "You must've hated me."
Sarah hesitated, thinking back. "I didn't really." And that was the truth. Case had teased and played tricks on her, but Sarah hadn't hated him. She didn't have hate in her heart for anyone, either now or then. But, she'd never trusted him and had learned early on to never believe a word he'd said. Those habits died hard. Yet, Sarah found herself fumbling for a way to apologize to him. He'd done a good thing this time, and he deserved her apology.
Sarah shook the can of shave cream, pressed the nozzle and let the snowy lime-scented cream flow into her hand. Case watched her, then after a moment, wiped his face clean with the towel in his hand.
"That's what I liked best about you, Sarah. You never went crying home to Mama. You never wilted away. I admired that about you. Your strength." "I didn't think you liked me at all." Case inhaled, eyeing her now, from the top of her ponytail down to her leather boots, not missing anything in between. Case had a way of looking at a woman, at her, that made her feel soft and feminine and desirable.
He sat there perusing her, looking mighty desirable himself, wearing faded jeans and a sleeveless tank that exposed a fair amount of tanned muscle. And when he spoke quietly in a husky voice, Sarah's bones nearly melted. "I liked you, Sarah."
She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She'd better get her apology out before she wasn't able to speak at all. "I'm sorry, Case."
He shifted uncomfortably and raised his voice a bit. "That I liked you?"
"No, no." Sarah let out a nervous chuckle. Lamely she tried to explain. "I meant to say...I've been meaning to say, well, I apologize for not believing you the other day. You got the money we needed, just like you said you would. I, uh, I guess I should have had more faith in you."
Case didn't say anything. She was certain she'd shocked him. He sat there, dark eyes wide, staring at her. Was he still angry with her? "Will you forgive me?"
Case blinked, then his gaze softened and he lifted his lips in a small smile. "Yeah, Sarah. No problem."
Encouraged, Sarah finished her apology. "Returning my grandmother's ring was...the sweetest thing in this world."
Case couldn't believe he'd heard right. Sarah apologized to him. She'd thought he'd done something sweet. If that didn't beat all.
Case never thought he'd hear Sarah admit she'd been wrong about him. Well, she hadn't been wrong in the past. He could acknowledge that now. He'd been hurtful toward her and he'd be forever sorry about that, but maybe Sarah was beginning to see him differently now. Ma
ybe she could forget the past and begin to see him for the man he was today. ' 'That ring will belong to Christie one day, Sarah. No matter what happens on the ranch, you keep that ring."
"I will." She took a moment to exhale.
"Good," he said, right before Sarah's hand came up to spread shave cream all over his face. Her touch, the soft way she rubbed her fingers through his beard, put notions in his head, of other things she could do with those hands. She stood close, between his legs and her flowery scent penetrated his nostrils. With task at hand now, Sarah concentrated on shaving him.
Ah hell, he thought, as his entire body went tight from watching her perform the simple act. He had a great view, a first-class view of Sarah's ample cleavage and was having a dickens of a time trying to keep from focusing there. After a time, he gave up. Sarah was intent on taking her time, stroking his face with utmost care to notice where his gaze wandered, so he treated himself to her. All of her, up close and wanting to get more personal.
She smelled so damn good. And every so often, she'd rest a hand on his shoulder for balance, or she'd meet his eyes briefly and smile. Once when she turned to rinse the razor, her breast rubbed against his arm. She hadn't noticed, or if she had, she'd pretended she hadn't felt anything. But for Case, there was no pretending away the soft swell brushing against him, teasing him, tempting him, far beyond his limit.
Case didn't know such torment existed. He wanted to hold her again and kiss her senseless. Hell, he wanted to toss that razor out and set her on his lap, make love to her that way.
Case's mind flashed hot erotic images of the different ways he'd like to make love to Sarah. He knew how she would respond now. Sarah had a passionate nature. He'd been lucky enough to make love to her once and just thinking about that night got him overheated. Moisture pooled on his brow. If Sarah noticed, he'd blame it on Arizona heat, but it was her heat and the intensity of his feelings for her, causing him to break out in a sweat.
The Heart of a Cowboy Page 12
