Beware the Ranger

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Beware the Ranger Page 8

by Debra Holt


  Just when she thought her heart would burst with the need to be even closer to him, a sudden jerk with a rude rocking motion dropped them back to reality. He broke off the kiss then. Kaitlyn realized the falling sensation was simply the return of the gondola seat to the ground.

  But nothing had been the same after that kiss. Clay found more reasons to come by the house each evening. He always spoke first to her grandmother. Then they invariably would spend a good deal of the evening together in the old porch swing under the sheltering limbs of a huge pecan tree in her front yard. Kaitlyn would walk him to his patrol car at the end of the evening. The chaste kisses would soon deepen into fervent French kissing. But he never let it get out of hand. She was always amazed by his ability to pull back for both of them.

  Clay kept saying that until she was of age and out of school, he was not going to let things go any further. Kaitlyn lay awake so many nights, aching for him until she thought she would go crazy. She might be young according to a number, but she knew her mind and her heart. Clay Morgan was the man she wanted to spend every day of the rest of her life with. She knew that as certain as she knew Sunday followed Saturday. She had to make Clay understand and see they belonged together. Thus, her plan of seduction was hatched. Prom night would be the most important turning point in their lives. She had decided.

  Kaitlyn wanted Clay Morgan. She wanted to be with him as his friend, lover, wife, mother of his children. That was what she envisioned her life to be, even though her grandmother had plans for her to pursue her drama career in New York. The woman had saved for years to give her a good nest egg for that chance. Kaitlyn simply told herself her grandmother’s nest egg would help build the dream house she had drawn—their house—hers and Clay’s. It would be a house to fill with their love and their children and grandchildren. Yes, she had it all planned out. Surely her grandmother would be able to see how happy Kaitlyn was with her plan. Why did she ever need to go to New York when the whole world, everything she could ever want was right in her own backyard? When she stood inside Clay’s arms, there was no other place to compare it to. No, she had her own plans for her future. And tonight, she would put them all into motion.

  That was what had led them to the moonlit barn.

  Kaitlyn took a silent, deep breath and stepped from him. Her skirts rustled. She slipped the button and let her jacket fall onto the edge of the quilt. She sank down on the quilt, splaying her skirts around her. She looked up at Clay as she patted a place beside her. The moonlight coming in through the open loft doors set her bare skin aglow.

  “Please come and sit beside me.”

  He slid his hands into his pockets but remained where he was, lounging against the doorjamb. The dark look of earlier had returned to his face. There was no sign of the warm smile.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Don’t you want to sit beside me?”

  “Wanting has nothing to do with it.” His voice sounded a bit strained, his hands were buried inside his trouser pockets.

  She rose again and went to him, sliding her arms around his waist. Even with the high heels, she was still inches shorter than his tall frame. “I love you, Clay. I have for so long. Don’t you want me?”

  The muscles went hard under her palms.

  His hands left his pockets and moved to cup the sides of her face as if she were a delicate flower he was afraid of bruising. A beautiful, slow smile creased the sides of his mouth into deep grooves.

  “Want you? You have no idea how much.” He bent his dark head and claimed her mouth.

  The kiss was so incredible… taking, yet giving also. With such clarity, she knew she could die without those kisses.

  “Then show me.” She breathed against his lips, her voice a soft plea.

  She wound her arms around his neck and let her fingers lose themselves in the soft hair at the back of his head. She shivered down her spine, as his mouth left hers and began a hot trail of kisses along the curve of her jawline, then down the side of her neck, and ever so slowly across her bare shoulder. Nestled in the crook of his left arm, his right hand had begun a slow ascent up her back and then around, strong fingers first lightly brushing the underside of her breast, then moving to circle over her before finally cupping her fullness. A hot flame ignited at this unexpected yet yearned for touch. It began deep within her inner core and flared outward. Kaitlyn moved against him, seeking more.

  Clay’s uneven breathing matched hers, as his lips claimed hers once more. Somehow, she found the strength to move away from him. His eyes asked the question, but his breathing was too ragged for coherency at the moment.

  It was now or never. Kaitlyn’s hands went behind her to the zipper. Slowly, she lowered it. Her gaze never left his. The heat she saw in his made her bold. With a deep breath, she let the material fall from her hands to land in a cloud of blue around her feet. His gaze moved slowly from her face, then down over the expanse of her shoulders. They flared as they moved down to the naked beauty of her breasts. Her nipples were a dark pink and stiff with newly ignited passion.

  His gaze moved on to the pale blue lace panties and down the long legs with the daintiest of blue high heels. His hungry eyes retraced the same path. Kaitlyn felt she would die until he spoke or moved. What if he found her unattractive? Perhaps she didn’t please him. Had he read her mind?

  “Perfect.” It was a one-word benediction that quickly put all her fears to rest.

  Clay moved to stand just inches from her. His arms reached up and engulfed her slender body, crushing her to him, as his mouth claimed hers again. Months of frustration—all the months of wanting came unleashed for the both of them. Strong hands moved down her back and still further down, pressing her tightly to him.

  Kaitlyn became aware then of just how much she aroused him as the hard maleness of him press against her. This was so new to her, yet she felt no fear. This was Clay. He held her total trust.

  Fingers moved to loosen the hair clips holding her hair. A golden mass of soft curls cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Her hands were seeking, moving hungrily over his body as she opened her mouth to his exploration. One part of her brain registered the fact this was what it felt like to be a desired woman—to love a man so completely she surrendered every thought and reason. Nothing mattered but being lost in his arms and his lovemaking. Her inexperience was forgotten in the deep longing and months of wanting him. She met his kisses with equal fervor.

  It took a moment to register he had stopped kissing her. His arms still held her tightly against him. Clay’s breathing was irregular and heavy. Looking at the flush on her face, he dropped his forehead to hers, the heaving of his chest indicating his attempt to grasp some form of control.

  “Kat, you drive me insane. This shouldn’t be happening, not like this, not now.” His breath was hot against her skin.

  “Why not now?” She gazed up at him, her eyes imploring. “I love you. Don’t you love me?”

  He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Looking down at her face in the moonlight, his eyes glittered with emotions unknown to her.

  “How could I not love you? I’ve done everything in my power not to. But I might as well stop breathing air. It would be easier.”

  Her heart sang with his words. He loved her! Clay loved her. Nothing would ever be as perfect as this moment.

  With wisdom far beyond her age, she led them toward the edge of reason and common sense.

  Her hands pressed his head down toward her mouth as she breathed against his lips. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to worry about. Make me yours, Clay—please.”

  A floodgate opened and, after a moment of hesitation, he surrendered. Strong arms crushed her to him. His hands were hot and set fires wherever they touched her bare flesh. Clay lowered them to the quilt, breaking contact with her mouth only long enough to shrug out of his jacket that was swiftly tossed aside.

  He settled himself alongside of her, his mouth assaultin
g the soft skin of her neck. This sent chill after chill down her flesh. She sought his heated body. Fingertips searched out and found the buttons of his shirtfront. Soon they found the taut skin of his stomach and moved across his broad chest. Kaitlyn reveled in the feel of him under her palms… hot skin and soft, wiry curls of male hair were open to her exploration. Clay raised his head, his eyes flaming with desire and she saw herself reflected in them. A sudden shyness stilled her hands. The shyness and any uncertainty soon disappeared. Kaitlyn felt the age-old power of woman over man.

  That was when things went crazy.

  Kaitlyn caught a blurred image of long, sharp talons coming out of nowhere over Clay’s shoulder. Next, wings were flapping crazily and wisps of straw were flying up in the air. She screamed in startled surprise. Clay rolled onto the hay to her right.

  “What in the blue blazes!” His shout echoed in the barn. Silence followed.

  When Kaitlyn opened her eyes next, she and Clay lay side by side on the hay-covered floor. They were not alone. Two very large eyes, atop a mass of ruffled feathers, looked down upon them from a rafter. The solemn gaze fixed on them. There was stunned silence in the old barn. And then, Kaitlyn just couldn’t contain herself any longer. A chuckle escaped… and then a full blown laugh. More would have followed but she looked over at Clay. He was definitely not smiling. In fact, his face was downright thunderous. No laughter there. It was obvious if he had his gun with him at that moment, there would be one less barn owl, endangered or not.

  Clay sat up then, his hands going for his clothing. That was not so funny. It was suddenly serious.

  Kaitlyn rose next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He pulled away and stood, but not before tossing her dress over to her.

  “Get dressed.” With his back still to her, he zipped his trousers and shrugged on his shirt.

  What was happening? She had to get him back. Her mind was in a jumble now. She stepped into her dress but she didn’t zip it, she just clutched it against her chest.

  “Clay, it’s just a bird. He won’t say anything.” She tried to be flippant and more sophisticated than she felt, but it fell flat.

  “He won’t have to.” Clay rounded on her then. The light of desire now banked in his eyes, and replaced by something else. Regret? “There won’t be anything to tell. Fact is, he arrived just in time. Now finish getting dressed.”

  She wanted to stomp her foot, preferably right on his big toe. Why was he acting that way?

  “No, I won’t.”

  He stopped tucking his shirttail in. With a determined set to his jawline, he grabbed her arms, but instead of bringing her up against his chest as she had hoped, he spun her around. His hands then very quickly and none too gently zipped up the back of her bodice. She whirled on him as he straightened from picking up his jacket.

  “I don’t understand,” she began.

  Clay saw the hint of moisture in her eyes. His face softened out of the scowl it had been set in. A long sigh escaped from him, but he still didn’t touch her.

  “I know you don’t understand, Kat, and that’s why I’m glad we were interrupted. I almost lost my head.”

  “But I thought you loved me. If you loved me, why not make love to me?”

  With two long fingers, he brought her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “It’s because I love you, Kat, that I’m stopping this right now, before it goes any further. When I make love to you, it isn’t going to be in an old barn in secret. It won’t be limited to a stolen hour or two. You’ll be my wife and I intend to take hours making love to you.” He dropped a swift kiss on her parted lips. Clay moved toward the stairs then, leaving her to watch in stunned silence.

  Wife… he said wife! The words echoed through her mind and carved themselves in her heart. In that case, she could wait. Kaitlyn fairly floated on air from that moment on.

  Chapter Seven

  The buzzing of a persistent fly too close to her cheek brought her back from her sleepy remembrance of things past. Kaitlyn swatted at the pesky intruder and sat up, a couple of fingers picking out stray sprigs of hay from her hair. The day had definitely grown warmer. It was time to stop the trek down memory lane. It would do no good. No use crying over spilt milk. She could hear her grandmother’s voice in her head, repeating the saying she so often used. No use crying period. Kaitlyn had done too much of that over Clay Morgan. Whatever it was between them, it was over and had been for a long time. She wasn’t a child any longer, and hearts got broken every day. And those people managed to survive it just fine. So would she. She had been raised to keep her head up and never let them see her cry. It was time she remembered who she was and acted like it.

  Standing, Kaitlyn brushed off the remaining bit of chaff from her pants and swung the doors closed again—physically to the loft and mentally to her memories. The heat was really building along with the humidity. Beads of perspiration began to trickle down the back of her neck as she retraced her path across the field. Kaitlyn had forgotten how quickly the humidity could climb in this part of Texas. It was feeling more like a full-blown summer day than an early spring one. A flash of recall came to her. Reaching into her side pocket, Kaitlyn dug out the hair tie she had slipped in earlier that morning before breakfast. She did the best she could to lift most of her thick hair off her neck and confine it on top of her head. As the light breeze drifted across her neck, she smiled at the relief. It was a bit of walk back to the main house.

  Glancing at her watch, she was surprised to see her little adventure had turned into a two-hour trek. They would be leaving for the hospital in an hour. She found her way down to the stream again and paused, mentally choosing the rock pathway to get her back across.

  “Hello.” The voice brought her head sharply up and in its direction. Across the stream, stood a slender young boy, his hands holding the reigns of the horse he had evidently just dismounted. The horse ignored them and began a slow sipping of the cool water of the stream.

  “Who are you?” The brown eyes looked at Kaitlyn with curiosity.

  “My name is Kaitlyn. And you are?”

  “Joshua. Joshua Morgan. I live here.” He volunteered. “Does my dad know you’re on our land?”

  So this was Clay’s son. A lump formed for a moment in her throat. Silly emotions. The boy had his father’s height… or at least he would. He was already tall for his age… ten? Eleven? Her mind wasn’t into doing math at the moment. His sudden appearance had thrown her.

  “Yes, he does. He brought my friend and me to your ranch last night. I believe my grandmother, Georgia Russell, has been staying here with you both for a while?”

  “Gran?” His eyes lit up and a grin crossed his face. “She’s cool. ’Course she isn’t really my grandmother, she’s yours. But she said I could call her that.”

  Kaitlyn was a bit surprised at the news. It was also the first time she had heard anyone describe her grandmother as “cool.” Her smile met his. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Joshua. I knew your dad a while ago, when I was in high school.”

  “That’s a long time ago. Did you know my mother too?”

  A shadow passed over the spot they stood in… or that was how it felt to Kaitlyn. This child asked an innocent question. He didn’t need to be tainted by human drama.

  Her heart already ached for his loss. “I’m afraid I never got to meet her. I’m sorry that you and your dad lost her.”

  “That’s okay,” he replied, his eyes dropping to the stream between them. “It was a long, long time ago… when I was born. I never saw her.” He looked over at Kaitlyn again. “Are you afraid to cross the stream? It’s a little slippery but I bet you can do it. I could help you.”

  “Thanks, but I came over just fine. I should be able to make it across again.” She noted a slight shadow cross the boy’s eyes and they went to where his horse stood patiently, his interest in the water done. Something came to mind.

  “I really was standing here thinking how hot it is and how long it’s been s
ince I actually went wading in a stream like this. It’s really tempting.”

  “The water’s really cool, but it’s fun.” His attention was on her again and a hint of that lopsided grin.

  “Well, no time like the present.” Kaitlyn should be getting back to the house, but she couldn’t resist the sudden impulse.

  Just five minutes. Slipping out of her shoes, rolling her pant legs up to her knees, she stepped cautiously into the ankle deep water of the rushing stream. It had been years since she had gone wading in a creek on a lazy, sunny afternoon. The water was surprisingly colder than she expected but she didn’t let that deter her. Soon she was standing in the middle of it, her toes sliding over the slick pebbles along the bottom. Another smile crossed her face and a chuckle escaped her. “This is fun. You just going to stand there and watch?”

  The horse was tethered to a bush and it took Joshua only a few seconds to shed the boots and socks he wore.

  Soon they were both laughing at the oddity of two strangers acting like a couple of kids playing hooky. “You’re pretty fun for a grown-up lady.”

  “Thanks… I think,” she responded. “It’s been a long time since I’ve spent time like this.”

 

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