by Fiona Lowe
Beau lived and breathed the ranch, and his friends were other cowboys, none of whom would want a mutt for a dog. “Who’s it for?”
But before he answered they both heard voices on the porch and Kirk was calling out, “Katrina, honey, make a pot of coffee, please. We’ve got company.”
The door opened and her father’s voice continued, “Just through there, Doc,” indicating the direction of the bathroom.
Josh? She dropped the spoon she was holding as her mouth dried faster than a puddle in the desert. No. Not here. He was breaking all the rules. Casual lovers didn’t turn up unannounced and meet parents.
Josh being here was wrong on so many levels. Her folks would take his visit as a sign he was interested in her, and although she knew he was, it wasn’t in the way her parents would be hoping.
Beau gave her an odd look as he bent down to rescue the spoon, just as Josh stepped into view.
Dressed in a running singlet and shorts, the scant workout gear didn’t hide much at all. He was all gloriously bunched muscles, sweat-slicked skin and heaving chest.
Just like when you saw him last.
Lah lah lah. So not going there, especially not here.
“Hey . . . Josh,” Beau said, breaking the silence, his slow words tinged with astonishment. “You ran here . . . from the c-cottage?”
“Town,” he puffed out, still getting his breathing under control.
“Town?” Katrina heard herself squeak. “But that’s miles away.”
He nodded. “The wind behind me made it an easy run.”
Beau shook his head slowly, partly in awe at the achievement and the rest questioning Josh’s sanity. “If you say so . . . Doc, but there’s no one . . . around here who runs . . . unless they’re being ch-chased by a bull.”
“I’ll get you a towel,” Katrina said hastily, drying her hands and walking fast toward the bathroom, wanting to separate Josh from her family as quickly as possible. She closed the door behind them and the memory of the first time they’d met rolled back in. “Didn’t you get my text?”
“I got it.” He splashed his face with water.
“So, I was pretty clear. Don’t get me wrong, the sex was great, but I’m busy and—”
“Don’t panic, Katrina,” he said dryly as he accepted the proffered towel. “I’m not here to see you.”
“Oh.” The disappointment that slugged her was ridiculously out of proportion to the miniscule sliver of relief that followed. Then confusion hit. “If you’re not here to see me, then why are you here?”
His gaze slid away from her. “Like I said, I was running past.” Having dried his face, he handed back the towel. “Thanks.”
“No one runs past, Josh.”
He opened the door. “No one from Montana runs past, although I’ve been told Californians have been known to.”
“You do realize the word Californian is code for crazy.”
He gave a half smile and walked away, leaving her standing in the very familiar bathroom feeling as if she were in a foreign country.
She brewed coffee and took it into the living room where everyone had gathered. Boy had settled himself next to Josh, who was absently fondling the old dog’s ears. Her father was chatting to Josh as if his unannounced arrival on foot was a normal, everyday occurrence. Kirk asked him if he’d ever gone fly-fishing. He hadn’t. Her mother was unusually quiet.
The conversation quickly reached a lull, driven by the unspoken questions that filled the room. Bonnie finally spoke. “I’m thinking this isn’t purely a social call, Doctor . . . Josh?”
He ran his hand through his hair and his already tense face contorted for a moment.
Katrina’s building unease heightened and she glanced between Josh and her mother.
Kirk set down his mug. “Bonnie told me that she went to see you yesterday and you ran some tests.”
Josh’s gray eyes sought Katrina’s, his gaze both troubled and resigned. A silent scream rose in her throat. This was why he’d come.
“I did run some tests, and she has an appointment to see me tomorrow morning to discuss the results.”
Bonnie kept her gaze fixed on Josh, but she reached out her hand to Kirk. “I’d rather you tell us now. Here, at home.”
The loud tick of the old clock and Boy’s snoring reverberated loudly in the room, and Katrina thought she’d go crazy. Say it. Say it now. Say it fast.
Josh leaned forward, resting his elbows on the armrests and making a steeple with his fingers and thumbs. “I’m afraid it’s not good news, Bonnie. The tests show conclusively that you have ovarian cancer.”
The silent killer. Katrina closed her eyes as a soundless shriek rocked her with its resounding No!
“Cancer?” Bonnie asked with a quiver in her voice.
“Judy Reynard had cancer and look at her now,” Kirk said loudly, going straight into denial. “She’s as fit as a flea. Cancer’s not the death sentence it used to be, right, Doc?”
“Bonnie needs to go to Great Falls and see the oncologist there,” Josh said quietly and professionally, neatly avoiding giving Kirk the reassurance he craved. The reassurance Katrina knew he couldn’t give. “The cancer will need to be staged to find out how far it’s spread, and the treatment will depend on that.”
Bonnie paled. “And if it’s spread?”
Again Josh glanced at Katrina for a split second. “Then I won’t lie to you. The battle will be a very tough one.”
Katrina moved to her mother’s side and kneeled down, capturing her hands in her own. “I’ll be here, Mom. I’m cancelling Ecuador. I’m not going anywhere.”
Bonnie put her hand on her head. “I should say no, honey, but I think I’m going to need you.”
“D-don’t w-worry about the r-ranch,” Beau said before kissing Bonnie on the cheek and quickly leaving the room.
Kirk went into organizing mode. “When can she see the onc—the cancer doctor?”
“I’ll make the calls first thing in the morning and set up the appointments.” Josh rose to his feet. “If you both come see me at eleven, I should have everything ready.”
Kirk shook his hand. “Thanks, Josh.”
He gave a silent nod, as if being thanked for bad news were an oxymoron, and headed to the door.
Katrina rose to her feet. “I’ll drive you back to town.” She grabbed her keys and walked out into the now dark night, her head spinning with a thousand thoughts.
As if reading her mind, Josh said, “Want me to drive?”
“Might be safer.” She gave him the keys and swung into the passenger seat.
Cancer. Her vibrant, amazing mother had cancer. And not just any cancer. She had the one stealth cancer that had usually spread far and wide, wreaking damage, before it was even detected. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. She didn’t want to have to. “You know, I thought it might have been a rumbling appendix or diverticulitis. I never thought . . .”
“Why would you?” Josh turned onto the main road and reached for her hand. “Ovarian cancer’s a bastard that way. It mimics so many other less noxious things.”
She felt the warmth of his hand in hers, and it suddenly hit her what he’d gone and done. “Do you usually run to patients’ houses to give them bad news?”
He slowed to take the turnoff to the cottage and slipped his hand back on the wheel. “Like so many things in Bear Paw, this was a first. I went for a run to clear my head, but my feet literally took me to the ranch. If your mother hadn’t asked me straight up, though, and told me it was okay, I wouldn’t have said anything.”
She thought of the doctor who’d issued patients with numbers in his first week in town, and she struggled to comprehend the change, especially given the fine line he’d walked with confidentiality. “But why? Why not wait until tomorrow’s appointment?”
He was quiet for a moment. “You texted me saying you were leaving town in the morning. I thought you’d want to know.”
Her heart turned over in her chest—h
e’d bent the rules for her. A lump formed in her throat and she fought it. “You thought right. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” They bumped over the cattle guard and the truck pulled to a stop outside the cottage. The new moon hung tentatively in the sky, one of the few things to defy the wind.
“God, I hope it’s not in her liver,” she blurted out, voicing her worst fear.
Josh didn’t reply, and the silence of the unknown bore down on her, suffocating her with dread. Despite a mammoth effort to hold herself together and not cry, the tears she’d held at bay since hearing the news trickled out quietly, one by one. Soon they were streaming down her cheeks in a river of shock and grief.
Two strong arms went around her, and she buried her face in his shoulder as great, racking sobs shook her. Josh didn’t tell her to hush or offer her empty words of hope; he just held her and gently brushed her hair, giving her a place to shelter. And she took the shelter, seeking it like a hiker looking for a warm and dry refuge from a storm.
Her sobs slowly eased and she gulped in some longer breaths, trying to bring her breathing back under control. As her sniffles lessened, she felt his warmth and care seeping into her, and somewhere buried deep down inside her a voice said This is a place worth staying.
For the briefest instant she agreed, and then common sense thundered in. Once, she’d believed in the dream of loving a man who truly loved her for who she was and not the person they wanted to make her. But she was wiser now and knew it was just that—a dream. Brent had burned her so badly that she was never going anywhere near that dream again. This was just Josh doing what any decent person would do when someone was sobbing their guts out. Nothing more. Nothing less. Neither of them wanted anything of the other, and now it was time to sit up, wipe her face and cowgirl up.
She moved and suddenly became aware of the sticky dampness of his skin under her cheek from her tears, the taste of salt on her lips and his strong masculine postrun scent. Her body stirred with the familiar tingle of longing, and she remembered how she’d lost herself in him in his bed. How he’d driven her to the point of insanity before flinging her out into the stars, far, far away from everything that tied her to her life.
Her less than perfect life that mirrored her many failings.
For a short time she’d floated in bliss, impervious to all thought and utterly lost in the maelstrom of sensation that had consumed her. She craved to feel like that again. She wanted that temporary sanctuary where everything felt amazingly wonderful. She wanted to forget that her mother faced the biggest battle of her life and that her own was disappointing because of her lack of judgment. She wanted to blast away any lingering temptation to feel sheltered in his arms.
Nothing emotional. Nothing but sex. Sex that made her forget.
She raised her wet face to his and sought his lips. At first touch they were cool, but as her tongue traced the seam of his lips, fire burned her. His arms, which a moment ago had cradled her simply and without agenda, now tightened around her, pulling her in against him.
Her body leaped from despair to desire as he returned her kiss, his mouth fusing with hers and greedily taking everything she offered. She wanted to climb up his body, but the steering wheel was in the way so she leaned back, pulling him with her.
He tensed and broke the kiss. “You don’t want to do this in a truck. Also, I’m disgusting after that run.”
She was beyond caring where they had sex; she just wanted it. Wanted the escape. “I don’t mind.”
“I do. Come on.” He pulled her up and they ran to the house and he led her to the bathroom. “I’ve wanted you in the shower with me from the moment I met you.”
She shivered as heat pooled between her legs. “Same.”
He spun open the faucets, only this time instead of stepping straight in, he kissed her. Then he unbuttoned her blouse. She kissed him back and tugged his running singlet over his head. He reached for the snap on her jeans, but as his fingers fumbled with it, she easily pulled his running shorts and briefs down to his ankles. He stood before her, gloriously naked.
“You have way too many clothes on,” he grumbled as he finally got her jeans down over her hips.
She kicked off her shoes, freed herself from the clinging denim and whipped off her bra. “Better?”
He hauled her against him. “Perfect.”
Steam now filled the room, and they stepped under the shower, filling the small space. Water sluiced over them and she lathered him with soap, loving the feel of his skin—taut over muscles—under her palms. He groaned and captured her mouth with his, deliciously lashing her with his tongue.
The bar of soap slipped out of her hands and her legs threatened to buckle as need for him streamed through her, setting every cell alight with begging lust. She wasn’t sure if she crawled up him or if he lifted her or if it was a bit of both, but suddenly her arms and her legs were wrapped tightly around him and her back was pressed up against the tiles.
All of her quivered with unmet need and her body screamed for him. “Fill me up.”
Snowstorm gray eyes gazed into hers, filled with matching need. “Now?”
“Yes, please, right now.”
He pushed up. She pressed down and beseeching muscles gripped him tight, so tight it was as if they were scared he might change his mind.
Finally. Feeling him deep inside her, she gave a momentary sigh of blissful relief, savoring the touch she desperately wanted. The touch that would take her away from everything.
“Okay?” His guttural voice broke through her fog of bliss.
“Perfect.”
He started moving inside her, and relief was short-lived, exploding into all-consuming need and stripping her of coherent thought. She threw her head back, and with each thrust, a tie to her real life unraveled, freeing her to soar.
Josh’s breath came hard and fast. Speech deserted both of them. Her breasts ached, her nipples tingled with pain, every muscle in her body screamed for release but still it wasn’t enough. Like fire hungrily consuming every ounce of oxygen in its path, she needed more.
She needed it all.
Panting, she dropped her head to his and kissed him, sucking his heat and energy into her. He gasped, drove up hard and shuddered against her. Color took over. She swam into it, desperate and dizzy, surfing the crest of the wave of utter fulfillment, clinging to it and never wanting it to end.
The wave rolled out, losing momentum, and she whimpered, frantic to hold on to it for as long as possible. Fighting the pull of reality. She lost. It slipped from her limp body and she sobbed as her arms started to shake.
“That was . . .” Josh’s stunned gaze sought hers. “. . . intense.”
He lowered her down and she slumped against him, the shaking now spreading to every part of her body. She tried to speak but nothing came out.
“Katrina?”
Unease filled his face, but her teeth were chattering so hard she couldn’t talk.
Josh quickly turned off the water and wrapped her in a towel, rubbing her dry. “Do you think you can walk up the stairs?”
Her legs felt like jelly and she shook her head. The next minute she was hanging over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“Sorry, but I can’t get you up the narrow stairs any other way without the both of us hitting the wall or the ceiling and getting hurt.” He carefully made his way out of the bathroom, up the stairs, past the bastard turn and into the bedroom.
He gently lowered her down, pulled up the quilts, dried himself and then crawled in next to her, spooning her into him and absorbing her shakes.
As his heat warmed her, the trembling slowly eased and she felt her body starting to still. She rolled over to face him, and his hand smoothed the strands of her damp hair out of her eyes. “Feeling better?”
“I am.” She felt self-conscious. “That’s never happened to me before.”
He grinned. “I’ve never sent a woman into postorgasmic shock before.”
&n
bsp; “You want a medal or a chest to pin it on,” she teased, rather ineffectually, because as chests go, his was pretty much perfect.
“A framed certificate will do just fine,” he quipped before kissing her gently on the nose.
Her fingers traced the outline of his tribal tattoo. “When did you get this?”
He rolled onto his back. “When I was seventeen. We were on vacation in Hawaii and I wanted to piss off my father.”
She couldn’t picture Josh being that much of a rebel. “Did it work?”
“Hell yeah. He was furious.” He tucked his other arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “It almost did double duty. I got close to being kicked out of prep school, too, but I wasn’t that lucky.”
She knew her face would have conveyed her surprise. “You went to a prep school?”
“Connecticut’s finest.”
Her brain scrabbled to work everything out, but nothing matched up because Josh was in Bear Paw to pay down his student loans. “That’s serious money.”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “My father called it an investment, only it didn’t pay the returns he wanted.”
She thought about their last conversation that had featured his father, and given what had happened, part of her didn’t want to ask, but curiosity won out. “But you got into medical school, graduated and have continued to succeed, so how is that not paying returns on his investment in your education?”
Chapter 13
Josh’s sigh rumbled through him, eating away at his relaxed postsex torpor. He wound strands of her drying hair around his fingers and for a moment toyed with the idea of not telling her anything about his fractured relationship with his father, but he didn’t want to argue with her. Not today when she was gutted by her mother’s news. Not when she was lying up against him all snuggly warm with her legs entangled in his. But talking about his father always put him on edge, and he didn’t particularly want to lose the languid relaxation that had him feeling mellow and content. There weren’t many times in Bear Paw he’d gotten close to content.
“Josh?” she prompted, propping herself up on her elbows and fixing him with an intense and questioning look.
