Silver Bracelets: A Loveswept Contemporary Classic Romance

by Sandra Chastain

  “Sure,” Sarah replied. “This has been a long night. Personally I always feel better when I’m fresh and clean, don’t you?”

  Sarah could see that Asa looked a bit stunned. Losing the woman he had sworn to look after had left him confused. For a person like Asa, that must be a real blow to his pride.

  Sarah was certain that he never lost a crook, or misplaced his squad car, or forgot his gun. He was too careful. This breach of procedure was bound to weigh heavily on his mind. He was hurting.

  Hurt was something she considered herself an expert in. She’d had enough experience concealing it and dealing with others who did the same. Sarah moved into the kitchen and began removing things from the refrigerator. She kept talking.

  “There’s an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and a razor. There’s a robe hanging on the back of the door. It will be too short, of course, but …” She took a quick look at the sheriff, realized that she was overwhelming him, and slowed down.

  “Sorry, Deputy Canyon. I don’t normally talk like this. I guess you may have guessed I’m nervous. I mean you’re the first man I’ve invited up here. I’m not quite sure what to say to you that won’t sound dumb.”

  She was nervous, Asa agreed. Well, she wasn’t the only one. It didn’t take a Supreme Court justice to know that they were both out of their element. She was right about one thing. He felt like hell. His head was still vibrating, and his stomach was grumbling. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember having eaten since yesterday morning.

  “I’m sorry. Nothing you could say would sound dumb. After what happened last night, I’d believe you had E.T. hidden in the closet and Starman in your shower.”

  “Oh no,” she quipped. “Downstairs, maybe, but not up here. This is my home. This is personal. Besides, I’ve never met an alien. Have you?”

  “No. I’ve met a few characters that I was suspicious of, but no confirmed cases. Are you making coffee?”

  “Yes,” she replied, astonished that the man actually had a sense of humor. “According to Pop, a cup of my coffee will really give you a reason to be out of sorts.”

  “I can’t believe it’s that bad.”

  “It is, trust me.”

  “I’ll find a way to live with it. I always do.”

  “Sugar?” she questioned, biding her time for when she could ask him to elaborate on his answer, which she guessed had nothing to do with her coffee.

  “Yes, and cream, too.”

  That was another surprise. Sarah would have bet this man took his coffee with gunpowder and nails. She placed the sugar and milk on a small round table beside a window. She broke two eggs into a bowl and whipped them with her fork. “How?”

  “How what?”

  She dropped bread into the toaster, and poured the eggs into a skillet. “How do you find a way to live with things?”

  “It’s mental. I’m not sure that I can explain. I go over a situation again and again, until I understand. Then, once I have it straight in my mind, I deal with it.”

  “Not me,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “I make my decision instantly, then worry it to death. I took an art class once. We were drawing with charcoal. The teacher thought my simple sketch of an old woman was nice. Then I kept going over it, adding, smearing, until it was awful.… If you’re not going to clean up you might as well sit down. You’re making me nervous again, standing over me.”

  Asa hadn’t realized that he’d gradually moved nearer and nearer as Sarah talked. “I guess I’m trying to understand. What’s the connection, Sarah, between your art class and my anger?”

  “By the time I finished, my drawing had turned into a real muddle. The instructor said I worried it to death. After that I decided that I’m better suited to physical expression than artistic.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, taking in the smooth long lines of her body and remembering the gym downstairs. “That works for you, but I’ve never had much time for physical outlets for my emotions.”

  “Not even with Jeanie?”

  This time he didn’t even make an attempt to hold back his laughter. “Sarah Wilson, believe it or not, without a camera in her hand, Jeanie was as physical as a dress mannequin in a department store window.”

  “But your affair? Didn’t you ever? I mean, surely—” Sarah cut off her own question. She didn’t want to know about their relationship.

  “Sarah, the affair I was referring to wasn’t between Jeanie and me. She’d been with some journalist for over a year when they broke up. I never even kissed her. Well, that’s not exactly right. She kissed me once, when she suffered her first broken heart. Shocked the hell out of us both. She was twenty and had too much wine. I wasn’t the man she wanted to be kissing and neither of us ever mentioned it again. Shows you what an impression my kisses make.”

  Sarah slid the skillet from the burner and looked at Asa. “Oh, how awful. I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, let’s face it, Sarah. I’d make a terrible husband.” Asa was confused by the depth of Sarah’s concern. He didn’t normally open up to a woman, but she seemed so determined to share his great disappointment that he found himself responding in a way he never had before.

  “Oh, but you’re wrong. I mean you kiss wonderfully well. Of course I don’t have much to compare it to, but I thought it was … sweet.”

  “Sweet?” He gripped the countertop with his fingers. “Sarah, no man wants his kisses to be sweet. If you’re going to try to make me feel better about what happened tonight, at least use a passionate term to describe my kiss.”

  “Like what? I’m afraid that I’m not very well versed in love talk.”

  “Like exciting, or hot.”

  Sarah knew that in spite of what he was saying, the stern man staring at her was only using her to take the brunt of his anger. She was the one who ought to be angry. She wanted him to see her, instead of someone she was substituting for. Someone who, in Sarah’s personal opinion, was an idiot when it came to Asa Canyon. Any woman who’d willingly give up his kisses must be an idiot. She herself was having trouble remaining calm just because he was standing near her. Thinking of how he’d kissed her made her situation even worse. Her emotions scrambled in forty different directions.

  The kiss in front of the window had been a necessary diversion, nothing more. She’d intended to ignore it, seal its devastating effect away where it would remain until she could bring it out again later and examine it. But her plan hadn’t worked any better than Asa’s. Her brain, like her charcoal drawing, was becoming more and more muddled as she tried not to think about the kiss.

  Sarah reached over to remove the toast from the toaster. That was a mistake. It only brought her closer to the man she was trying not to think about.

  She froze.

  Asa turned off the burner on the stove. He caught Sarah’s arms, one in each hand, and turned neatly around so that he was leaning against the counter and she was leaning against him.

  Their gazes met and locked, her lashes fluttering for a long minute. Then, slowly, but with certainty, she understood. The first kiss was official business. This was personal. He was asking for solace, for comfort, and she could give it. He’d been hurt and hurt was something she could soothe, if not forever, at least for now.

  With an almost imperceptible nod of agreement, she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. “I’m sure there is a better word to describe your kiss. If you’ll give me another demonstration, I’ll try to come up with something … hot.”

  This time Asa didn’t blink. His body warmed from being pressed against Sarah’s curves. The unexpected tingling sensation that came as a result seemed to vibrate down his chest to his thighs.

  “You’re an unusual person, Sarah Wilson—nice, caring, kind.”

  “Yes, I think I am. And so are you.”

  “Most people don’t think of me as any of those things. Steadfast, determined, and unbending, maybe. But nice? I’m not sure I could ever be that.”

  “I’m sure.
” She looked up at him, her sincerity shining in her eyes. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

  “Yes, we would. You see me as some wounded sparrow you’ve brought home to nurse back to life. I’m not.”

  “Will you please stop talking and kiss me again? I know it’s terribly forward of me, but I think it might make both of us feel better. Of course if you’d rather not, I’d understand.”

  “I’ve been honest with you, Sarah. I’m not known as a gentle man. Are you sure that you want to get involved with me?” Asa asked in a voice so unsteady that even he didn’t recognize it.

  “I’m sure. Kiss me, Asa Canyon.”

  Asa wanted to turn around and leave. He wanted to push himself away from her and run down the steps and out into the pasture beyond. But her eyes held him. And her concern warmed and touched that secret part of him that had been frozen for such a long time.

  He groaned and felt the ice begin to melt.

  Three

  This time when he kissed her it wasn’t for the benefit of someone watching. It wasn’t in the line of duty. It certainly wasn’t planned. With a will of its own, his mouth brushed her lips, slipped over them, meeting, capturing, recognizing the rightness of their touch and melding with them at last in a pool of hot sensation. He didn’t rush, nor did his hands cradle and caress. They were simply together, as if their being together had been meant all along.

  When Asa finally drew back, Sarah looked up at him, her eyes dreamy. “See? I told you so. You kiss wonderfully.”

  He tried not to smile, though it was very hard to resist the urge. He felt confused and to cover his uncertainty he railed out at Sarah. “For God’s sake, Sarah, do you always go around picking up strange men and kissing them?”

  “No. Do you always pretend you don’t like something when you do?”

  “Of course I don’t. We’re not talking about pleasure here.”

  “You may not be, but I am.”

  “What you’re doing is issuing me an invitation.”

  She slipped her hand around his neck. “Exactly. And there’s an RSVP included.”

  “Sorry, babe. I never learned much about etiquette. The only response I have to give you is a warning.”

  “You already responded, Asa. You kissed me back. Kissing a person is a kind of promise.” She didn’t pull away. She was aware of his reaction to her body. His maleness lay hard against her and she was feeling pleasant little twinges where they touched. One sensation was a part of another, which led to another, and another.

  “What kind of promise?” His arms, with a will of their own, slid around her and rested rebelliously on her lower back.

  “Well, I think that when a kiss is right, it’s like making music. I feel it in my body, in your body, as if our very skin is carrying the melody. Like the wind in the trees, like sunlight dappling the water, like the smell of Christmas.”

  Asa knew he ought to pull back and leave. He knew that he’d already gone one step too far. But he couldn’t seem to make himself go. Instead of growling at her, he said, his voice was low and tight, “Sunlight? Christmas? All that from a kiss?”

  “I don’t think you’ve had much time to hear the songs in the trees, or smell Christmas, have you, Deputy Canyon?”

  “No, I guess I don’t know much about those things.” He lowered his head, brushing her lips again. As she parted her mouth to welcome him, he decided that this morning the taste of coffee was like ambrosia.

  Sarah lifted her head and returned his smile. “Ready?”

  He blinked. “Ready?”

  “For breakfast?” she answered, freeing herself from his arms and looking at him with pleasure.

  “My stomach seems to be growling,” he agreed, “but I think my body may have other preferences at the moment.”

  Sarah followed his line of vision to the obvious erection he made no attempt to conceal. She liked that. He responded to her body and that was natural. Why should two people be embarrassed over expressing desire? Her own body wasn’t shy in revealing its aroused state.

  “Anticipation can be half the pleasure. Take Christmas. Wondering what’s inside the box is almost always as exciting as actually having the gift, don’t you think?”

  Was it? Asa didn’t know. If he wanted a woman, he usually got her. If she wasn’t interested, that was fine, too. But he’d never, ever, discussed the wanting so honestly before.

  “Do you feel better?” Sarah asked. She felt Asa’s tension slide away. His body seemed to loosen and relax. He was letting go, allowing the frustration to disappear.

  “Better?”

  “I mean I can understand why what happened threatened your confidence. I just thought that you ought to know that you have nothing to worry about. You’re a caring person. Any woman would be lucky to have you look after her.”

  Her words hit him like a snowball, splattering against his face and showering against his chest. “You mean all this was just to make me feel better?”

  “Well …” She considered her answer and decided that she wasn’t fooling anybody, including herself. “That’s how it started. At least that’s what I told myself. Truthfully, I kind of forgot that it was for you. I mean I was sharing the feeling so much that I lost sight of your needs and just enjoyed it.”

  He forced himself to remember that though she was twenty-eight, she obviously didn’t know what she was doing. “Sarah, do you always make people feel better?”

  “If you mean do I go around kissing men like this, no. This is my first time. Oh, I’ve had dates, boyfriends, but nobody has filled my stomach with butterflies since I was seventeen. But I guess that’s not what you’re talking about, is it?”

  Butterflies? Hell, if she had a stomach full of butterflies he was battling with a pit of giant condors.

  “I guess I do try to make people happy,” she was saying softly. “It isn’t that hard and it’s ever so much nicer than making them sad, don’t you think?”

  “I can’t say that I’ve ever thought about it quite that way. Normally what I do doesn’t make the people I deal with happy at all.”

  “Weren’t the people at the restaurant happy when you caught those robbers?”

  “Yes, but the robbers weren’t.”

  “Did they need the money? I mean did they have families, children who were hungry? Why did they rob the restaurant?”

  “To get money for drugs.”

  “Then they deserved to be unhappy. I wouldn’t worry about it. Are you ready to eat now?”

  “Yes, I think we’d better.”

  They ate scrambled eggs and limp toast, drank hot sweet coffee, and watched the sun burst over the trees and light up the mid-morning sky through Sarah’s hayloft window.

  Asa Canyon learned about Sarah’s father and how he’d died, slowly and painfully over a long period. But Sarah didn’t remember it with sadness. Their relationship seemed filled with joy that overshadowed the bad times. He picked up the hesitation in her voice when she described her mother and her remarriage two years ago.

  In time he stopped trying to make order out of Sarah’s conversation. When she explained that she normally closed her shop on Saturday and that she didn’t open it again until she felt like it, he didn’t argue. He didn’t understand people who ran their lives like that, but the late summer morning was too golden, and Sarah’s brown eyes too caring to allow any further discord. Afterwards they washed the dishes and put them away. He’d delayed his departure as long as he legitimately could when he finally stood up and cleared his throat.

  “Sarah, I appreciate what you did for me last night, the way you tried to make me feel better about what happened. Nobody has ever cared much about my feelings and I thank you. Now, I’d better get back to town. I ought to check in with my office and report my truck as stolen.”

  “No, don’t go, Deputy Canyon. I assume you must be off today, since you haven’t said anything about being late for work.”

  “Well, I did sign out for today and tomorrow, since I
expected Jeanie to be here.”

  “Of course. Naturally, you’d expect to be … with her.”

  “Sarah, you don’t understand,” Asa began. “The truth is there really wasn’t anything like that between us.”

  “You don’t have to explain, Asa Canyon. All I need is to be with you, even just for today.”

  “Sarah, I don’t think you know what you’re saying. I mean you saw what happened when I kissed you. Being with me would not be wise.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. But if it makes you uncomfortable, we’ll explore other ways to release your tension.”

  Asa groaned. Exploring with Sarah was the primary cause of his tension. He didn’t think that he could take much more.

  “I’m afraid to ask what you have in mind?”

  “Softball.”

  “Softball? Sarah, I’m not very good at playing ball.”

  “That’s okay. My team just plays for fun. We’ll find something for you to do. Do you have a glove?”

  “Not since I was in high school. If I remember right my glove was retired during my junior year by request from the rest of the team.”

  “Well, no matter. I have an extra one, and a shirt and running shoes, too. Let me change clothes, and we’ll see what we can do,” she said. “Wait here.”

  Uneasy, Asa watched Sarah dance out of the kitchen and down the corridor. He was lousy at certain sports. Golf, hunting, and fishing, he’d mastered. But football, basketball, and baseball always made him feel like a stick figure dancing on a hand-held board. In everything else he’d played, he’d been all knees and feet.

  Before he could begin to formulate a refusal Sarah was back and he lost every rational thought he might have voiced. She was wearing a pair of shorts and another T-shirt. This one said, “Smyrna Smart Guys” on the front, and had the number 32 on the back. He didn’t know anything about the guys on her team, but if they were anything like the women, the opponents might as well give up.