by Kate Little
For as she moved as one with him, as close as any two people could be, Carey realized that this was much more than scratching some lustful itch. She knew finally that she had given up the fight, the battle she’d fought within herself this past month to keep herself away from Luke, both physically and emotionally.
Now she could see it had all been futile. Her fate had been sealed from that first look, that first slow smile the day she’d found him in the rain. He’d had her heart in his keeping all this time; she’d just closed her eyes to the truth. But now it was clear she’d been ten times a fool to think she’d ever had a choice in the matter.
Carey knew that in the light of day, a flock of worries about this turn of events would surely come to roost. But at that moment, her hands gliding sensuously down Luke’s glorious body, exploring him, pleasuring him, she felt only the wonder of her feelings for him. And sheer relief from the burden she’d carried, denying how much she cared. Now free to give the very best of herself to him, she lay back, opening herself to him like a flower soaking up the sun, surrendering everything, body and soul.
She felt her body tighten around him, exploding with pleasure in the peak of ecstasy. She trembled uncontrollably as she gripped him and called out his name.
He kissed her deeply, stroking her hair as he continued to move inside her. She rocked against him, her hands gliding lovingly over his back and thighs, her lips kissing and caressing his chest. Finally she felt him rock hard inside her as he arched with strength and power, soaring to his own blissful peak. She felt his big body quake in her arms, and the sheer wonder in his voice as he whispered her name again and again sounded like pure poetry.
Luke came to consciousness slowly. The candle on the bedside table flickered with a weak light. He began to open his eyes and stretch, then stopped himself, unwilling even to breathe. Carey slept in the crook of his arm, her cheek pillowed on his chest. He wondered for a moment if he was dreaming again. Then knew he was not.
With one gentle finger, he smoothed back a few dark-gold curls and sighed at the sight of her lovely face. Her cheeks were still rosy from their lovemaking, her lips so ripe and moist looking he had to hold himself back from kissing her again. She looked like an angel—and she sure made love like one, he thought with a grin.
Now he knew for sure what he’d long suspected. Carey was the very embodiment of his womanly ideal. She was all he’d ever hoped for and dreamed of, and long after he’d given up the search, she dropped smack into his lap, changing his life forever with a single smile.
It amazed him that Carey would want to be with him. She was the kind of woman who could have any man she wanted, he thought. What did she see in him, he wondered. He would never understand it.
At first he’d thought it was a purely physical thing. But the way she’d given herself to him last night, the things they’d said and done. Well, he was experienced enough with women to know the difference between lust and love—or feelings that might someday be love.
That was the wonderful thing about Carey—and the worst thing about her, too—she made him feel things he had thought were lost to him, made him believe again in romance…in the power of real love.
God, what was happening to him? How could he dare be thinking this way? How had they ended up in bed in the first place? That run-in with Burkett had been preying on his mind all day. And Carey had only known that half of it. He’d come to her, wanting to apologize to her for stirring up more trouble, and he’d also meant to finally come clean and tell her the truth about Emily and Tyler.
But somehow one thing had led to another…and another…and again. But last night they’d shared more than some first-class, knock-your-socks-off lovemaking, he reflected. He’d asked Carey about growing up on this ranch, wanting to understand why she was so eager to sell out and leave again. Heck, he wanted to know everything about her now.
She’d told him about her father, how strict and cold he’d been, how she could never do anything to win his love and approval. He’d wanted a son, Carey believed, and no matter how hard she’d worked, helping her father, she had never been able to measure up to that ideal.
But in high school, she’d managed to find an escape, an outlet for her unhappiness. She’d discovered the world of acting, a secret world that brought her pleasure and approval from her teachers and classmates. She’d felt so proud to be chosen for the lead in the school production of Damn Yankees her senior year, and somehow managed to keep it from her father. But she hadn’t realized the local paper would print a review and photo.
Carey had continued to confide in Luke that when her father discovered the truth, she’d been afraid he would have a heart attack. He had rigid, old-fashioned ideas about what he called “womanly modesty” and had always forbade Carey to wear makeup, stylish hairdos or clothes that revealed her figure in any way. To know that his daughter had flaunted herself across a public stage, playing a woman of low repute, well, he’d just about lost it, to hear Carey tell it. She believed the shock was so great, his health was never the same. She’d genuinely felt sorry for her father and remorseful for what she’d done. But it was all too late. A few weeks later she used some money she’d saved up for college expenses and ran away to California.
So now Luke understood her a little better, he believed, gazing down at her serene expression. Maybe she wasn’t the money-hungry female he’d first taken her for. Maybe all women weren’t like Emily, after all.
Emily. Now Luke knew his ex-wife had ruined his life twice. For as hard as he’d tried last night to tell Carey about Emily, somehow the words had not come.
She wouldn’t understand. She’d hate him for lying to her, and maybe—most probably—it would cause her to lose her fortune. Maybe he’d been cowardly. But he had never known so much tenderness with a woman, so much peaceful harmony. Those moments were precious to him, and he simply hadn’t been able to force himself to ruin it all.
Luke had also considered the fact that in a court battle, Carey might have a much better chance fighting Burkett if she honestly had not known about Luke’s problems with the law.
Burkett would drag it all back to court, Luke was sure. He’d known hunting dogs who, catching a scent, could track for days without rest. Burkett had that very same look. He’d caught the scent and would not give up until he’d either run his prey, or himself, into the ground.
Luke had a feeling it was only a matter of hours, or a few days at most, before Burkett discovered that Luke had unlawfully stolen Tyler away from his legal guardian. Even if Emily didn’t have the police after him, the truth about his real relationship was easy enough for any investigator to figure out.
So what had either of them to gain if he’d told Carey everything? The only honorable thing for him to do now was to leave here. Take Tyler and keep on running. Maybe send a letter to Grimsby, explaining that Carey never knew the truth about him when they married. Maybe that would help some.
He knew one thing for sure. After last night, he could never bear to see her face when she discovered how he’d lied to her. He would cut his own heart out with a dull knife first.
At least they had shared a few perfect hours together.
“And something that special was sure better than nothing, sweetheart, wasn’t it?” he whispered to her while she still slept in his arms.
It was going to have to be, he reflected as his fingertip tenderly played with a silky lock of her hair. And enough to last him a lifetime of missing her.
Seven
Carey didn’t know how it happened.
One minute Tyler was seated firmly in the saddle as she encouraged his progress with words of praise. The next, he was flying through the air backward, calling out in surprise, before his little body landed on the softly packed earth.
Horrified, Carey yanked in the lead clipped to Bluebell’s bridle and secured it to the corral fence. Though younger and more spirited than Sweet heart, the bay mare was even-tempered enough to move clear of a thrown rider.
“Tyler!” Carey screamed as she ran toward the fallen boy.
As she ran across the short distance of only a few yards she felt as if she had weights strapped to her legs.
He lay completely still. A bad sign, she thought.
She sent up a silent prayer as she dropped to her knees beside him, immediately checking his breath and pulse. He was breathing, though shallowly, and she felt a strong heartbeat.
“Tyler? Honey? Answer me,” she pleaded. She gently patted his face with her hand. Her own heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she dragged in a deep breath to calm herself down.
At least he was wearing his helmet. But his eyes remained closed, his body limp and motionless. Hopefully, it was only a mild concussion. Hopefully. Hopefully, she chanted to herself.
She unfastened the strap of his helmet and pushed it back, but didn’t dare move him, fearing an injury to his neck or spine.
Carey frantically gazed around for help. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Luke and Willie had left hours ago to replace some rotted fence posts, and the two hands, Joe and Kip, had ridden out to move cattle.
“Help!” she screamed toward the house. “Ophelia! Somebody! Help!”
While Carey silently debated whether to leave the boy and run for aid, Luke’s truck pulled into the yard.
Luke seemed to leap out of the vehicle before it had even come to a full stop. Legs and arms churning, he raced toward her through a thick cloud of dust. Willie came loping after him.
“Tyler! My God! What happened?” He kneeled in the dirt staring down at the boy with a pale, grim expression. His raw, terrified tone tore at her heart.
“He took a fall off Bluebell. He’s breathing a-and his heartbeat is steady…” Carey stammered. “But I don’t think we should move him. Not until medical help gets here.”
“I’ll call,” Willie offered, running back toward the house. “They can get here fast. Less than an hour, I’d bet.”
“An hour!” Luke roared. “For God’s sake…. We can’t wait an hour…” He stared down at Tyler again, taking a hard swallow, and Carey could see him forcefully control an urge to embrace the boy, to pick him up in his arms and carry him away.
She rested her hand lightly on his forearm but didn’t know what to say. It was all her fault. Luke had never wanted to let Tyler ride. She’d talked him into it, but he’d known best. And now the unthinkable had happened.
Tyler had to be okay. He just had to.
She felt tears well up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Luke would never forgive her. But she couldn’t think about herself right now.
Carey wasn’t sure when Ophelia had come from the house, but she was suddenly aware of the older woman standing by her side. Ophelia leaned down and gently squeezed Carey’s shoulder.
“I’ll get a blanket,” Ophelia offered. “We ought to keep him shaded while we’re waiting for the doctor to come.”
“Wait—” Luke’s voice was low and urgent. “Look. He’s coming to….” He leaned over the boy and gently touched his cheek.
Tyler’s eyes flickered open. “Dad? Daddy?” he mumbled. He reached for Luke and started to sit up, but Luke leaned forward and gently held him down.
Carey heard Tyler call Luke “Daddy” but she thought the boy was just confused from his fall. At that moment she was more concerned to see if Tyler had any injuries and if they were serious.
“I’m right here, Ty.” He gripped Tyler’s small hand in his own. “You just stay put, pal. You took quite a spill. No sudden moves now, until the doctor gets here.”
“I’m sorry…I shoulda listened to Carey but I—”
“It’s okay,” Luke soothed him. “We’ll figure out what happened later. I just want to see if you’re okay….”
Apparently Luke knew some basic first aid and proceeded to ask Tyler a number of questions to figure out if the boy was hurt. The only injury seemed to be a sprained wrist, and after a few minutes Luke thought it was all right to let Tyler sit up, and he gently removed his riding helmet.
Willie came trotting toward them from the house. “Good news. Dr. Garland is over at the Wilsons’ place,” he said, mentioning their nearest neighbor. “Said he’d send for the ambulance and come directly.”
Willie had barely finished delivering his news, when Dr. Garland’s blue utility vehicle could be seen coming from the direction of the Wilsons’ ranch, crossing over the pastures on the back roads that connected the two properties.
The long, tense silence as they awaited the doctor’s arrival seemed endless to Carey. She didn’t dare look at Luke, but kept her gaze fixed on Tyler, her heart filled with thanks that he apparently hadn’t been badly hurt.
“Am I going to get to ride in an ambulance?” the boy suddenly asked. “That would be cool!”
Tyler’s comment made everyone laugh.
“We’ll have to see what the doctor says,” Luke replied. “You may have to go to the hospital for X rays, just to be sure nothing is broken.”
“You’re going to fine, Tyler,” Carey assured him as she softly brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Just relax. The doctor will be here in a second to check you out.”
Dr. Garland’s examination was efficient and thorough. Along with the sprained wrist he found some bruised ribs and he did want to Tyler to be X-rayed as he suspected a concussion.
Luke rode with Tyler in the ambulance, and Carey followed in her truck. She was thankful for the time alone to compose her emotions and work out her apology to Luke.
The emergency room was noisy and crowded. Luke and Carey took turns amusing Tyler while they waited for attention. By the time Tyler was examined again, X-rayed and the results reviewed by a physician, hours had passed.
Tyler left the hospital with a bandage on his wrist and tape around his ribs and a big sticker on his T-shirt that said Great Job!
Because of a mild concussion, the pediatrician on call at the hospital had instructed Luke to wake Tyler hourly and check the dilation of his pupils. Luke was also instructed to keep the boy relatively inactive for a day or so. The hardest part of the prescription, Carey realized. But luckily, he would soon be fine.
Carey drove them home in her truck, with Tyler seated cozily between the adults. He chatted in an animated fashion at first about his medical adventure. But they’d barely traveled a few miles before he curled up against Luke, his eyes closed, heavy with sleep.
Glancing over at the pair, Carey was suddenly reminded of the afternoon she’d found them on the rain-swept road and driven them back to Whispering Oaks. Luke had worn that same stony expression and the same silent tension had hung between them.
That had been little more than a month ago, but to Carey it felt like years. Her whole world had changed since that day, her life turned upside down.
And now, in the blink of an eye, her world had been rocked again. She and Luke had only just established a tentative bond with each other when it seemed they were again on opposite sides of the playing field.
But she had to speak her piece to him tonight about Tyler, no matter what. She cleared her throat, preparing to begin her apology, when Luke spoke first.
“So what exactly happened out there today, Carey? I don’t believe you ever told me.”
His voice was flat, cold. Unyielding. She dreaded having to go through this, but knew she had no choice.
“I was giving Tyler his riding lesson,” she began, willing her voice to remain steady. “We had to take Bluebell out today, because Joe needed Sweetheart on the range.”
“If Sweetheart wasn’t available, you could have skipped the riding lesson. Didn’t that ever occur to you?” Luke asked curtly.
She felt a defensive response bubbling up, but bit it back. He’d been terrified today over Tyler. He was shaken and scared. He was allowed to vent a little, she decided.
“Yes, I suppose I could have. But Tyler…well, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. And maybe I do give in too easily with him,” she admitted.
&nb
sp; “Go on,” Luke prodded her. “So you took out Bluebell.”
“We took out Bluebell. Tyler seemed pretty relaxed in the saddle and was doing just fine. We did some slow walks around the corral, like yesterday, and I held the bridle the entire time, I swear,” she promised him. She paused, needing to draw a deep breath before relating the last part.
“But right before I was going to take him down, he wanted to make one more circuit. He wanted me to let go of the bridle and hold Bluebell on just the lead. I thought he was ready. I didn’t want to undermine his confidence,” she added quickly to explain her decision. “The horse was just walking. Not even a trot. Tyler looked fine and then…I don’t know what happened. He lost his seat, and the next thing I knew he was blacked out on the ground.”
The frightening vision of Tyler when he’d first fallen rose up before Carey’s eyes, and she had to blink it away. She paused and glanced at Luke to gauge his reaction, but could not read his impassive expression.
“Look, thankfully Tyler wasn’t badly hurt,” she began, “but I do to take full responsibility here. You told me you thought he was too young to learn how to ride, but I pushed you into giving your permission.”
Luke took a deep breath and stared out the side window. More than once, as Carey had stood by him these past few hours, his arms had ached to hold her, comfort her, share their mutual distress—and relief—over his son. But with heroic effort he’d held himself back.
How could he dare encourage her feelings for him that way? And raise her expectations about their relationship? He knew that if Tyler had not fallen off that horse, tonight he’d have taken the boy and sneaked out of Carey’s life forever.
