by Laura Moore
The feeling of dread at the idea of marrying still held him captive. When Cassie hadn’t mentioned the despised M word, he’d breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that he could have everything the way he wanted it, until he felt like changing it.
He could propose when he no longer felt quite so queasy just thinking of it.
Of course, he hadn’t expected that Cassie would resist him in any way. Making him detest the nights spent alone, away from her. That his need for her would overcome any lingering reluctance to marry. She had become too damned important to him.
So the previous week, he’d roared up the interstate to Washington, a slip of paper with Cassie’s ring size tucked in his pocket. Wanting something special, he’d made an appointment at an exclusive jeweler to have a ring specially designed.
He was even ready to pop the question now before he returned to pick up the ring. But proposing in the middle of an argument hardly seemed romantic, and it reeked of opportunism.
He had to tell her how much he loved her, and it had to be done just right. She deserved the perfect setting.
“Okay, Slim,” he sighed heavily. “I won’t push you any more. We’ll do it your way.” He looked across at her, sitting on the porch swing, her knees drawn tight against her chest in an unconscious gesture of defense. His eyes sought hers, the deep shadows of the porch impeding him. He closed the distance between them, dropping down on his haunches, reaching out to clasp her hands in his.
He looked up, able now to see the sadness dimming her eyes. “Slim, I’m sorry. Please don’t be blue. I promise I’ll stop badgering you. It’s just that when it comes to you, I want it all. I’m greedy.” Drawing their entwined hands toward his mouth, he opened her palm, pressing his mouth to its center.
Cassie closed her eyes, keeping back the tears that threatened to spill. Refusing to cry.
It was the right thing to do. She was a mother. Her children necessarily affected her behavior, her choices. She’d been so naive, thinking she could be happy just being with him. She was. But it was all terribly more complex. Conflicted.
Sighing inwardly, she told herself she should be grateful that Caleb wasn’t like Brad, that he hadn’t forced her to choose between him and the twins. He was sensitive enough to realize how important the children were to her. And she knew how deeply, how truly he cared for them.
Dear Lord, she loved him so much. And she was sure that he loved her, too. But not enough, apparently. Not enough to want to marry her. Days had turned into weeks, Caleb making passionate love to her time and time again. Each time binding her closer to him. But never mentioning marriage. It wasn’t a topic she felt she herself could bring up. Her experience with Brad had made Cassie overly sensitive to the issue of marriage. Cassie would only consider marrying a man as eager to be a parent to Jamie and Sophie as she was. Moreover after being so mistaken with Brad, she refused to assume eagerness. And so she’d been waiting for Caleb to propose. How long could she continue waiting?
It was ironic. Ever since she’d realized that Orion was owned by Pamela, a part of her had acknowledged the possibility that she might have to leave, that she wouldn’t be able to stay on at Five Oaks. How sad that the reason she’d have to go would be the man she was desperately in love with.
And now it had come to this. He probably thought that when she insisted on sleeping apart from him, she was being some kind of tease, trying to manipulate him, like Pamela had.
She wasn’t. She was simply desperately afraid of losing herself. Of being unable to survive without him. Those cold, empty nights she spent without Caleb were a sharp, bitter pill she forced herself to take, her personal dose of reality. Just in case. Oh well, at least she hadn’t caved in, she thought with a sigh, determined to chase her black thoughts away and put their argument behind them.
Hands still touching, Caleb felt a tiny involuntary shudder run through her, and lifted a dark brow in inquiry.
“What’s wrong? Are you cold?” His hands moved up her arms, rubbing her skin.
She offered up a small smile. “No, it’s nothing.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “Caleb, can we go to your house? I’d like to spend the night with you if I may.”
Their eyes locked, saying all that their hearts couldn’t. In a fluid motion, Caleb rose to his feet, bringing her with him, off the swing and into his arms. They stood, locked in each other’s embrace, sharing the comfort they found there. Wordlessly, he led her into the night.
She undressed for him. Each garment shed with the delicacy of a leaf falling, twirling to the ground. Revealing the beauty of her body, layer by layer.
Transfixed, caught fast in the spell she wove, he watched her approach. Curling in glorious waves about her shoulders, her hair was like a golden nimbus. Her breasts trembled as she moved, teasing him with their perfection. Their texture like silk, their taste like honey. He knew her so well, and yet his hunger for her remained as keen as a dagger’s edge. He knew, too, that it would never dull.
As her hands touched him, his breath rushed out, unaware until that moment he’d been holding it. His only focus, her. His heart ached at the bittersweet melancholy that enveloped her tonight, aware their argument had caused it, desperate to make it right. As he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, her hands brushed his aside; her quiet “Let me” caused his hands to drop passively to his sides. With excruciating slowness, she peeled away his shirt, tugging the material off his shoulders, bringing her mouth against the warm, resilient skin. Her indulgent tongue bathed him, absorbing the salty, masculine taste of him. Moving lower.
The muscles of his abdomen tensed, the ridges in sharp relief, Caleb’s breath labored as her own fanned softly across his belly, her tongue dipping into the shallow circle of his belly button. His erection throbbed, straining, dying for her touch.
Cassie’s hands moved to his jeans, her heart pounding in anticipation as liquid heat pooled within her. Knowing what she would find. Nothing could ever be more arousing to her than knowing he was hers. That she made him the way she would find him. Hot and heavy for her.
The sight was incredible. Unbearable. Cassie on her knees before him. Her nipples, tight with desire, just visible through the golden curtain of her hair. He watched enviously as her hair brushed, as if caressing, their pink tips. Lower still, her hands were stroking him, her mouth inches away. Coming nearer.
His hands dug into her hair halting her. His words scratchy and rough, tearing at his throat like sandpaper. “Cassie, Cassie, I’m too close . . . I can’t . . .”
Her eyes glittered up at him in the semidarkness. His skin felt the whisper of her breath as her mouth moved once more, meeting him. Humbling him. Destroying him as he shattered into a thousand pieces, helpless to resist.
By the second shrill ring, Caleb’s arm had stretched out, snatching the receiver from its cradle, not willing to risk a third ring disturbing Cassie from her sleep. He glanced down at her lying against him, her head pillowed against his chest, her breathing unchanged.
“Yes,” he answered, turning his head slightly, checking the glowing hands of his alarm clock. One-fifteen in the morning. This better be good, he thought irritably.
“Caleb. Matt here. Sorry to wake you. It’s Mrs. Kline. Says it can’t wait ’til morning, that you’ve got to call her. She sounds close to hysteria, otherwise I’d have waited.”
Caleb sighed heavily. “No, you did right, Matt. Give me her number.” Caleb repeated the numbers to make sure he’d heard them correctly and hung up, punching them in immediately. Mrs. Kline’s voice answered on the first ring.
“Dr. Wells? Oh, thank goodness!” Matt Dupre had got it right. Even saying hello was setting her voice trembling with nerves.
“What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Kline?”
“Belle’s gone into labor. She’s already past term and something seems terribly wrong. She’s been whimpering and panting all night, but nothing’s happening. She looks awful.”
“Mrs. Kline, this is her fi
rst litter. Sometimes these things take a while.”
“But I just know there’s something wrong! My husband’s out of town and I’m alone.” Her voice had risen, a thin wail that attacked his eardrum.
Wincing, Caleb tried again. “Mrs. Kline. I really think you need to relax . . .”
“Relax? How can I relax when my poor dog may be dying in front of my eyes? Dr. Wells, you’ve got to come. You’ve got to help her.”
“All right. Okay. Listen, would you please stop crying? Mrs. Kline,” Caleb ground out. “I can’t hear your address if you’re crying so loudly. Say it again. Slowly. Right. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He replaced the receiver the sound of plastic hitting plastic an audible click in the darkness.
Several seconds passed as he lay in the darkness, stealing this short time to enjoy the sensation of her lying next to him. Finally, he moved his arms carefully as possible, intending to lift her body away from him. Annoyed at having to leave her alone.
“It’s all right, I’m awake.” Cassie’s throaty voice reassured him. “Who was that?”
“A client. Her dog’s in labor and she’s convinced it’s in distress.” His hand reached up to stroke her hair. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. I’m on call tonight.”
“It’s okay, I understand. . . . But”—she lifted her head—“Caleb, do you think I could come with you?”
He rolled, turning to the side to face her, straining to read her features in the dark. “Sweetheart, it’s past one. You sure you want to go? It’s probably nothing, the puppies won’t even be close to being delivered.”
“That doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you . . .”
He was quiet, remembering their earlier argument, followed by the maddeningly sweet hours they had spent locked in each other’s arms.
Hell, he didn’t want to be away from her, either. And it wasn’t as if he gave a damn whether Mrs. Kline was offended by her unorthodox presence or not.
He dropped a light kiss on the top of her head. “Sure, it’d be great.” He swung his legs out of bed, extending a hand to pull her up. “That way you can help distract the wretch.”
“The dog?”
“No,” he replied, reaching for his jeans. “The owner.”
Cassie sat quietly on the floor, not far from where Caleb was positioned, watching him examine Belle. Gently, he eased his fingers inside, probing carefully, not wanting to agitate the dog any further.
From the corner of the room, Mrs. Kline also stood watching. Her hand was pressed tight against her mouth. She’d been that way ever since Caleb had bluntly informed her she’d have to leave the room if she didn’t stop carrying on so. Her cries were only adding to the dog’s distress.
Caleb lifted his head slightly, addressing the older woman. “Belle’s doing fine. The first pup has its head locked in. It’s a bit big, but she should be able to push him out without too much problem.” He withdrew his hands from the dog’s posterior.
“Can’t you do something? Can’t you pull them out?”
Caleb gave a quick shake of his dark head as he rose to his feet to wash his hands in the adjacent bathroom. “Belle’s doing great on her own, Mrs. Kline. Her contractions are hard and strong. She’s not giving up the fight yet. I always try to let the birth process take its natural course. It’s really better for the animals that way.” He dried his hands on the guest towel and turned back to face them, his eyes scanning the room.
“You’ve got everything set up nicely here,” he offered, feeling the woman deserved some credit. “The pups’ll be along soon enough.”
“But . . . you’re not going to leave now, are you?”
“Mrs. Kline, it’s past two o’clock in the morning. I’m afraid we can’t stay any longer.”
“Oh, please, please.” Tears had welled up in the woman’s eyes. She turned imploringly to Cassie, hoping for a sympathetic face.
Cassie looked at the collie as she lay sides heaving, her large dark eyes staring forward. She was a lovely dog. “I’ve never seen puppies being born,” she said simply.
Caleb sighed, raising a hand to massage the back of his neck. That settled it then. “Mrs. Kline, could we trouble you for a cup of coffee while we wait?”
Beaming, Mrs. Kline hurried toward the back of the house.
* * *
Caleb uttered a short whisper of thanks at Belle’s sudden change of breathing some forty-five minutes later. He dropped down from his seat on the wooden chair and crouched by the dog, lifting her tail. The dog was straining mightily, and Caleb could just make out the dark tiny spot of a muzzle.
“Thatta girl, Belle, a couple more pushes and you’ll be home free.” He felt, rather than saw Cassie join him beside the dog, observing intently, waiting with bated breath until at last a pup emerged, slipping into Caleb’s waiting hands.
Cassie’s heart squeezed tight at the sight before her, the tiny fragile pup, slick with birth fluid, cradled in Caleb’s hand. Just seeing the gentle way he handled the pup, how soothingly he spoke to the laboring dog, filled Cassie with love and pride. What an incredible man he was.
His attention centered on the newborn pup, he placed it gently on the large, fluffy beach towel Mrs. Kline had provided.
“The next one’ll be here soon,” he said, aware now of Mrs. Kline’s approach, her presence hovering over them. “Looks like a fine pup, Mrs. Kline. Let’s see how many she gives you.”
Cassie’s eyes were glued to the sight of the minuscule creature, so tiny even she could have held it in one hand. Its eyes were shut tight. Its body so still, just a slight tremor shaking it as it breathed.
“Here comes the next one, Cassie.”
Eagerly, she witnessed the process again, at the miracle taking place in front of her. Thrilled when a second miniature form was placed on the fluffy towel.
Soon there was a third. Slowly, the collie’s breathing began to ease. She lay quietly, panting lightly.
Caleb watched her, saying nothing. Then, reaching out to stroke the dog’s thick coat, he said, “It looks like Belle’s litter might be small, Mrs. Kline. I’ll examine her again in a minute, just to be certain. If that’s the lot, I’ll clean her up so she can begin the job of mothering.” He gave Cassie a surreptitious wink, dropping his voice to a whisper so that only she could hear. “The really hard part.”
Cassie blushed, ducking her head.
“Shouldn’t a dog her size have more than three puppies?” Mrs. Kline asked.
Caleb shrugged. “It’s her first litter. And we don’t know who the sire was. Could have been a big dog. In any case, litter sizes are unpredictable. A dog might birth six pups one time, and the next, thirteen.”
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t complain. It’ll be easier to find homes for three than six.”
Caleb stared at her, truly astounded. “Mrs. Kline, are you telling me you’re not planning on keeping any of these puppies, not even one?”
“Oh, no,” she replied airily. “My husband and I talked it over. We really prefer pure breeds. As you said, we won’t be able to tell who the sire was, it could have been a mongrel. We’ll wait until she can give us some pedigree puppies. Like her.”
“I see.” He was pleased with how even his voice sounded. Obviously that lecture he’d given her on spaying Belle hadn’t made much of an impression. He might as well have been talking to a wall. It wasn’t hard to discern from Cassie’s sudden, unnatural stillness that she, too, was shocked by the woman’s attitude.
Mrs. Kline smiled brightly, unconcerned with the callousness of her previous words. “But I’m counting on you, Dr. Wells, to find good homes for them.” She wagged her finger in his direction as if he were some sort of delinquent child. “Now, remember, you promised.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” he replied curtly. “Mrs. Kline, Belle’s going to need some water soon and a bowl of food later on. Please make sure you keep feeding her the high calorie food I prescribed until the puppies are ready to be weaned. I’ll just
examine her now while you’re getting the water.”
Grimly, he set to work. Well, he consoled himself, at the very least he could find decent owners for these puppies, some with brains in their heads.
“It’s as I thought. Her uterus is empty. I’m just going to clean up the remains of her after-birth.”
When Caleb left the room momentarily to wash his hands once more, Cassie remained captivated, staring at the mass of dark bodies. Less than a minute passed before Belle began to wiggle toward them, her long, pointed muzzle sniffing, then licking her puppies’ damp bodies. Mrs. Kline’s words echoed repeatedly in her mind. Caleb’s body brushed hers as he knelt down beside her, also watching the new mother inspect her pups.
“Caleb,” Cassie spoke softly, so as not to disturb Belle. “Do you think it would be all right if we took one or two of the pups? Would they be okay with the twins?”
He stared. Her face was animated with excitement at the idea, her eyes bright. How could he have been this lucky to find a woman so lovely, both inside and out?
Caleb reached across and let his fingers run across the smoothness of her cheek. Sitting back, he said with a smile, “Let me see what the puppies look like in a few weeks’ time. When they’re a bit bigger, I’ll be able to see how they play maybe even take a stab at guessing the breed of the male. We’ve got to be sure they’re right for you. There are some breeds you don’t want to mess with, Cass, especially when you have small children. You’d just be asking for heartbreak, otherwise.”
“But if they’re okay? Do you think . . .”
He interrupted, kissing her lingeringly. Lifting his head, he smiled, answering, “Yeah, I think so. Hey Slim . . . anybody ever tell you you’re a real softie?”
She shook her head in denial. Then she looked again at the squirming little bodies being washed by their mother. “It was pretty special, seeing those puppies being born. I’ve always liked dogs, lots of different kinds . . .”
