His Heart for the Trusting (Book 2 - Texas Hearts (Contemporary Western Romance)

by Mondello, Lisa

  Guilt stabbed at him. He wanted Sara to stay at the Double T. But this was where she belonged, doing what she loved and what she was clearly good at doing.

  Jonathan started to fuss and Mitch jiggled him up and down just a little to keep him from letting out a howl that would surely bring Sara to his side, and put an abrupt end to the story.

  An announcement came over the intercom that dancers would begin the Jingle Dance. Sara stood up and a group of children rushed to her, hugging her in the leg before their parents peeled them off. Then she made her way to the dancing area.

  Miss Hollywood was definitely gone, Mitch thought as Sara stood in the dance area with the other women who would perform the Jingle Dance. She'd tried so hard to blend in. Well, not blend in. Sara was off the scale beautiful in every way he could name, whether she was wearing that silk suit and fancy gold sandals or this colorful red and blue jingle dress. She was sophisticated and innocent, and both worlds she'd lived in contributed to that.

  The music started with the beat of the drum which was the backbone of most of the Native American dances. Sara's movement with the other dancers was controlled. With the heavy beat of the drum, their feet came down on the hard earth and the hundreds of a little metal fringes that were lined in rows along the dresses fell against each other, sounding almost like rain hitting a tin roof. The dance went on. Mitch wasn't sure if Sara was even aware of the people around her in the crowd. She seemed lost, somewhere on her own.

  But he was with her, where she was. She was beautiful. He wondered if he'd ever told her that, just how beautiful she really was. He lifted Jonathan up higher on his shoulder and patted his son's back. He would tell her tonight, Mitch decided. And suddenly the idea of spending the day at the Powwow seemed much too long. He'd waited for this day and now all he could think about was taking Sara home so he could have her all to himself.

  They stayed the whole day, Hank reconnecting with old friends and family members, Sara introducing both Mitch and Jonathan to the same. The dancing went on, the magic of the day had begun with Mitch opening his eyes and seeing just how much of a special woman he had in Sara.

  But he'd never told her that. Not really. And he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it. Only that he really didn't want her to leave.

  With Jonathan sleeping against his shoulder and Sara saying the last of her good-byes, they left the Powwow. Hank, Corrine, and the rest of the cowpokes from the Double T headed out just behind them. Jonathan hadn't even stirred when Mitch put him in the car seat and strapped him in between Sara and himself. With any luck, his son would sleep through a good clean diaper change and then go down to bed nice and easy.

  * * *

  “You're beautiful,” Mitch said. They had been back from the Powwow for all of twenty minutes. Mitch seemed like he was in an awful hurry to get Jonathan to bed. Sara would have preferred to at least give him a bottle so that Jonathan would sleep through the night. But she had to admit she was anxious to get Jonathan to bed too so she could spend a little alone time with Mitch.

  They'd met so many people at the Powwow, so many faces she hadn't seen in years. She hadn't had much time to talk to Mitch. She'd danced the Jingle Dance and she knew that he was watching her. Just once, she had caught a glimpse of him just as she brought the colorful fan to her face at the end of the dance. She'd never forget those eyes. Never. The way he looked at her, the honey warmth of his dark blue eyes. He was looking at her that same way now.

  “You're really out doing yourself tonight, cowboy. You must want something from me.”

  His lips tilted to a wry grin in a slow, sexy spread, making her knees grow weak for it. “I do.”

  Hooking his arm around her waist, he dragged her close. Somewhere deep down, Sara knew she shouldn't let it happen. She shouldn't want Mitch to kiss her, but she did. And she knew that was exactly what he intended.

  He didn't push the headband from her forehead as she thought he'd do. He just held her, studied her with his eyes, drinking her in. With his thumb, he brushed across her brow and slowly down her cheek, making her head spin and her breath catch in that spot in her throat where her pulse pounded.

  “Talk to me.”

  It wasn't at all what she'd expected. Mitch had a way of giving her the unexpected at times like this. She chuckled.

  “What is it you want me to say?”

  “Anything. Tell me one of your stories.”

  Her brow furrowed. “You want me to tell you a story?”

  “Yeah, how about the one you told today to the kids. Wait, no, tell the one about the eagle who soared to the sky. The one you were telling Jonathan where he couldn't take his eyes off you.”

  Cocking her head to one side she said, “Why do you want to hear that story again?”

  She inched herself away from him, but he only reeled her back, close to him.

  “Because I like hearing your voice. I like listening to you talk in that soft, almost whisper of a tone. It's like a song. It's...sexy.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Talk to me, Sara.”

  She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his shoulders. Everything about Mitch was strong, from the well-defined muscles of his arms as he held her, to the conviction in his soul. He made her feel safe and Sara hadn't felt that in a long time. She hadn't felt the embrace of a man without feeling trapped or too intimidated to enjoy the feeling.

  She couldn't know for sure, but if she chose to step back out of his arms now, he'd let her go. And because of that, she didn't feel threatened.

  “This could complicate things,” she said, staring up into his eyes.

  “It's already complicated.”

  “I don't want to...”

  “What? Tell me.”

  She hesitated a moment, felt the muscles of his arms bunch with frustration.

  “Don't back away from me now, Sara. This is too important.”

  “I don't want to feel trapped again.”

  He nodded, locking his gaze on her. “You can walk away any time. I'm not holding chains on you. I never would want you that way.”

  “Mitch,” she whispered above the musical jingle of her dress as she moved closer.

  She lifted on her toes and brushed a kiss across his lips ever so slightly, just a breath of a whisper. He turned his head to capture her lips but she moved away.

  She was testing him. She couldn't be sure why, and he didn't seem to mind. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to melt there in Mitch's arms and let the drug of his kisses send her away.

  And then he did. Mitch slowly lowered his head until his mouth was inches from hers.

  “I like the way you say my name.”

  “Want me to say it again?”

  He nodded.

  She whispered his name in his ear.

  “I'll take that as an invitation if you don't mind.”

  “Please do,” she whispered just as his mouth crushed over hers.

  It was powerful; more so than that Sara had imagined possible. How could two hearts collide with such force as the bursting of stars? But there they were, his heart merging with hers. Because she knew the difference between a kiss for wanting something and a kiss born of emotion.

  A knock on the door dragged her back into consciousness. She didn't want to come back down to earth and break free of this union. She wanted to hold on to Mitch.

  “The door,” she said, pulling from his kiss.

  “I didn't hear it,” he said, holding fast to her, keeping her from bolting, but allowing her to do so if she decided. She liked that about him. He didn't control her. It amazed her how much trust she put in that after what she'd gone through with Dave.

  The knock on the door was more pronounced.

  “Go away, Beau. I'm not here!” Mitch yelled. She couldn't help but giggle as Mitch dragged her into his arms again and began kissing her again.

  “It's not Beau.”

  Mitch’s arms stiffened around her. It was enough to make all the magic of their kiss fade and her
heart plummet.

  “Mitch?” the female voice called again.

  “Who is it, Mitch?” Sara asked, somehow knowing in advance that it would have been better not to ask.

  “Lillian.”

  #

  Chapter Seven

  Of all times, why did Lillian have to show up now?

  “I'm sorry, Sara.”

  The knock on the door was unrelenting now. Lillian hated to wait.

  “You'd better answer the door then.”

  With a heavy sigh, Mitch dropped his arms from Sara's waist. It was as if he'd let go of a piece of himself.

  Running his hand over his head, he treaded to the door and yanked it open.

  Lillian stood there in her typical designer shoes that probably cost more than this week's grocery bill for the entire ranch. Her hair was slicked back and secure at the nape of her neck with a bright red silk scarf.

  “Aren't you going to invite me in?”

  “What do you want Lillian?”

  She glanced passed him into the kitchen and stared at Sara who was still standing where she was when he'd kissed her. She was still here. Mitch was glad of that, although he knew it shouldn't have made a difference.

  “I came to see my son.”

  As if it were timed just that way, Jonathan began crying in his crib. Sara quickly flew from the room to attend to him.

  “Your son? So now he's your son? What about two months ago when you dropped him off in the arms of strangers like an old suitcase? Was he your son then, too?”

  Lillian’s smile was flat.

  “Of course, silly.”

  He heard Jonathan's cry from upstairs. And within seconds, the sound grew louder. Fear clutched Mitch’s gut. Had Sara brought the baby down? Hadn't he told Sara that Lillian was capable of anything? Lillian never did anything unless it benefited her.

  “Pocahontas seems like...an interesting girl, Mitch.”

  Lillian pushed her way passed him into the room and suddenly his home felt so invaded, so exposed.

  “Her name is Sara, and you leave her out of this.”

  “If she is caring for my child, she's already in it. Or is she here in some other capacity?”

  “That's none of your business.”

  “I have rights—”

  “You threw away all rights when you dropped Jonathan at my door without a word. What kind of mother does that to a kid? You didn't even leave a note or word of when you'd be coming back. If ever!”

  “Did you think that sort of behavior was only reserved for fathers?”

  Her words stung as if she'd slapped his face. Mitch had confided in Lillian about his father's abuse. Why wouldn't he? He thought he was marrying a woman with whom he could trust his deepest fears. What started out as the hope of a lifetime together had merely lasted two weeks before her true nature was revealed.

  “I want you to leave. Now.”

  “Not until I see my son.”

  Mitch let the door slammed shut, shoving his clenched hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He walked in front of Lillian to keep her from wandering any further into the house.

  Jonathan's crying sounded so loud it was as if he were in the next room.

  “Mitch?” Sara said softly from behind. But he ignored her call.

  “What makes you think I'm going to trust him with you after what you did? Abandoning him wasn’t enough?”

  “You have no choice in the matter.”

  “Maybe not before he was born, but I do now. And right now I don't want you anywhere near my son,” he boomed.

  Jonathan began screaming, sharp and piercing, behind him, cutting through Mitch like a knife.

  But it was Mitch’s fault.

  It was rare for Mitch to lose his temper. It reminded him too much of his old man and how scared he'd been when his parents fought. As a child, Mitch would run and hide under the bed, or pull all his toys out of the closet and sit in the dark and cry. This time, it had been his voice that brought on the tears. Deep regret coursed through him with the thought of what he'd done. He wished he could snatch his anger back. Stay in control.

  “I just want to see my baby. That's all.” In an instant, Lillian's face had changed, no doubt because now she had an audience. She had the look of longing in her eyes when she glanced over at Jonathan in Sara's arms. Mitch closed his eyes in defeat.

  “Please?”

  He didn't want to, but he glanced back at Sara then. Her dark brown eyes were pleading with him, her bottom lip trembling slightly. She wanted to hand his son over to Lillian!

  His son!

  Mitch's shoulders sagged. No matter how much he wanted to claim Jonathan for just himself, protect him from the mother who most surely would only hurt him, Jonathan was Lillian's son, too.

  He didn't want to think of Jonathan that way. He wasn’t an object to fight over.

  Mitch had grown up with the fighting and had seen his father always walking out the door after the police arrived and dragged him out into the street. And usually only after Mitch and his mother had gotten the brunt of his old man's anger.

  Then the waiting started. Mitch would come home from school and race to the mailbox, hoping to find a letter or a card. Every car that pulled into his driveway Mitch was sure was his father coming home to him. But it rarely was.

  There was so much disappointment when his dad broke his promises. It wasn't until Mitch was a teenager that he realized the only person he could count on to come through for him was himself.

  He didn't want that for Jonathan. And he didn't want Jonathan to carry around a legacy of anger between his parents his whole life either.

  He met Sara's pleading gaze and nodded once, feeling his gut clench so tight he could hardly breathe as Sara placed Jonathan in Lillian's arms.

  Lillian held Jonathan tight and looked down at him, kissing his forehead as a mother would after not seeing her child for a spell. Mitch looked away.

  “I missed you so much, darling,” Lillian said in a low crooning voice.

  Fear leveled him. Mitch knew this is what he feared the most, why he hadn't wanted to open his heart to his son in the first place. He knew Lillian. She had something in mind or she wouldn’t be here at all.

  “You can't have him back.”

  He reached out his arms, ready to snatch his child from Lillian's arms. Anything to have his son back again without fear.

  But Lillian backed up a step, out of his reach.

  His pulse thrummed wildly and something basic took over. The primal need to protect Jonathan.

  “He is my son, too, Mitch. You can't shut me out of his life.”

  “What do you really want? Because I know it’s not Jonathan.”

  Lillian might have missed Sara's soft gasp, but to Mitch, it echoed around him in a desperate plea.

  He couldn’t look at Sara and see those dark eyes asking him to do what he didn't want to do.

  Instead, he held his gaze, hard and forceful, on Lillian. Jonathan began to scream again and it was all Mitch could do to keep from lunging forward and yanking him away.

  “Hand over my son.”

  “Or you'll do what?” Lillian arched a thinly lined brow in challenge. He'd once thought that was an attractive gesture, now he knew the wickedness behind it.

  “You two need some time alone,” Sara said quietly behind him.

  “No, don't go Sara,” Mitch said at the same time Lillian replied, “I think that's best.”

  Say, something, he silently pleaded to Sara. If you care at all for this child, for me, then say something. He hated the helplessness he felt inside. He didn't want it to be there. It was as if he were eight years old again and hiding in the closet.

  But Sara remained silent by the kitchen doorway, just staring at Jonathan while he screamed and screamed, as if she were about to scream herself. Abruptly, she darted to the refrigerator and seized a bottle already filled with formula.

  “He hasn't had his bottle yet,” Sara said nervously. “He's hungr
y, that's all. It’ll just take a minute to warm up the bottle and then he’ll be fine.”

  She unscrewed the cap off the bottle and placed it in the microwave. As the microwave hummed, Mitch took a long step forward and lifted his son from his mother's arms. Relief washed over him, but an underlying uneasiness remained.

  He hated the look on Sara's face when he handed Jonathan to her. She just stared at him, unshed tears clinging to her dark eyes, pleading with him. Then she looked at Lillian. Jonathan started screaming again and suddenly all her attention was focused once again on the baby.

  Mitch had thought Sara was going to feed the bottle to Jonathan. But from the bewildered look in her eye when he handed the baby to her, it was clear she'd prepared the bottle so that Lillian could feed him.

  “Please take Jonathan upstairs to bed,” Mitch said quietly.

  She nodded. “Okay,” she said in a voice much too shaky for his liking.

  He noticed the slight unsteadiness of her step as she left, and he wished to God she didn't have to be part of this whole scene.

  “Okay, out with it. What do you really want, Lillian?” he asked when they were finally alone.

  Her chuckle was low and quick. “You offend me.”

  “You do a pretty good job of that yourself by playing games. At least, that's the way I remember it.”

  “Is this any way to treat your long lost wife?”

  “Ex-wife. It was a mistake that lasted two weeks. That's why it was annulled.”

  “That was my mistake. See, if I'd only known that your rich grandfather really did have a pile of money, I'd have hired myself a good divorce lawyer instead of letting you talk me into that annulment.”

  Mitch shook his head. “You know as well as I do that our marriage was a mistake. It never would have worked.”

  Lillian chuckled wryly. “That much is true. If I had to live my whole life holed up here in some dusty Texas town I'd have gone mad.”