She always had been fascinated by fire. When forest fires raced through the mountains near Los Angeles, the flames were sometimes visible from her home, jumping along the ridges of the mountains. She'd watch them, fascinated by the orange light, thinking that it was a tragedy that something so beautiful should be so destructive.
And now she found herself drawn to the green fires in his eyes. A fire that was potentially as destructive to her as any forest fire.
He stood up, the blanket forgotten on the sofa. Thin briefs molded his hips, contrasting with the warm copper of his skin. Sara closed her eyes against the impact of him. This was insanity. She should turn and walk away while there was still time. But there was no more time. His hands touched her shoulders. She could feel the faint rasp of calluses put on his palms by years of hard work.
Her eyes opened languidly to meet the fire of his, her hands coming up to slide around his neck. He bent, his eyes never leaving hers. She waited for his mouth to touch hers, feeling the pounding of her pulse as if it were a drumbeat. Her breath left her in a half sob when his mouth at last found hers. He braced himself, feet apart, catching her slight weight as she sagged against him.
They kissed like lovers separated for years, or like lovers about to part.
Sara's mouth opened to the marauding thrust of his tongue. His hands slid around her back, crushing her to the burning heat of his body, while her hands tightened around his neck as he bent and lifted her into his arms. His lips never leaving hers, he carried her from the firelit warmth of the living room to the cool darkness of her bedroom. Sara didn't feel the change in temperature. She didn't feel anything except Cody. He could have carried her out into the snowy night and she wouldn't have cared. All that mattered was that he was holding her, and that she wanted him to never let her go.
Frantic hands stripped the scraps of fabric from their bodies. The springs creaked as they fell to the bed, arms wrapped around each other. He tasted the delicate skin at the bend of her elbow, the tingling place behind her knee, the shadowy well of her navel.
Sara's hands traced every sweat-sleeked muscle. He felt so right beneath her hands. She arched, her throat taut as his tongue found the very heart of her desire. She twisted, her nails digging into his shoulders as he drove her closer and closer to fulfillment. The pleasure was intense but she wanted him with her. She didn't want to walk this path alone. Her hands tightened, tugging demandingly on his shoulders until, reluctantly, he abandoned the sweet territory he'd conquered.
He slid up her body. Sara opened to him, her thighs cradling his hips, her hands tangling in the darkness of his hair. His mouth closed over hers at the same moment that he claimed her for his own. Sara's whimper of satisfaction was caught in his throat, his moan of completion swallowed by hers. They were joined in a more than physical union. Two halves of one soul locked together.
There was an element of despair in their lovemaking. Each of them wondering if this was the last time. The sweet friction of his body on hers brought tears to Sara's eyes. Tears of love, need and fear. They drew it out, savoring every moment. But the passion was too intense to last forever. Sara felt as if she shattered in a million pieces, all flying outward, and yet she was anchored to earth by the inferno of Cody's body over hers. He stiffened, his body shuddering, and for just an instant, she could believe that he was all hers, that nothing would ever separate them.
It was a long, long time before he gathered the energy to shift off her, rolling to one side in the wide bed but slipping his arm under her neck to draw her close.
Sara closed her eyes, not wanting to see the faint tinge of gray that was creeping in through the window. She didn't want to know that morning had arrived.
"It's going to be light soon." Cody spoke the words she'd been trying not to think, breaking the silence that had lain between them.
"I suppose so." Her fingers combed lightly through the hair on his chest. "I guess Cullen and I will leave as soon as he gets up." Ask me to stay.
"I guess so." His hand slid through the warm silk of her hair.
"It's funny, but I'm going to miss this." I'm going to miss you.
"After a few days in Los Angeles, it will all seem like a dream." He let his thumb slide along the line of her jaw.
"Maybe. Los Angeles doesn't seem quite so appealing now." Please ask me to stay.
"It won't take long to get back into your old life." He fought down the urge to beg her, not to go.
"Maybe I don't want my old life." Her mouth shook and she didn't look up at him, afraid to let him see the desperation in her eyes. That was as close as she could come to telling him she wanted to stay.
His hand stroked her shoulder, learning the delicate contours, mapping her collarbone. His eyes looked out over her head, staring at the roughly plastered wall showing worn paint where the rising sun caught it.
"You know, my mother gave up everything when she married my father. Her family were strict Catholics and they were very much of the old country. They never forgave her for marrying outside the faith and marrying an Indian on top of it. They never had any contact with her from the day she walked out of their house to marry my father.
"I asked her once if she didn't miss them, and she said that everyone had to make choices in life. She'd made hers and her family had made theirs, and regrets couldn't change the decisions made.
"She loved my father, but it wasn't an easy life. He tried so desperately to fit into the White Man's world, and he felt he had to deny his heritage to do that. So he did deny it. And the older I got, the more I saw that he'd become little more than a shadow of a man.
"A big reason he made the choices he did was that he wanted to make my mother happy, because he had a deep shame about being Indian and he didn't want that shame to rub off on her. So they bounced from place to place, never really settling anywhere.
"I never doubted that they loved each other, but they were two of the loneliest people I think I've ever known. Each gave up everything to make the other happy, and it left them with little to give."
His hand slid absently up and down her back, but he was looking into the past, touching on old memories. Sara wondered if he even remembered who he was talking to.
"Mother died when I was sixteen and my father died six months later, and I can remember standing at her grave and swearing that I would never love a woman who was so far removed from my life. No one would ever give up everything for me, nor I for her. I would never ask that of anyone."
Sara wondered if it was possible for a heart to physically break. She closed her eyes, squeezing back tears. He couldn't put it much more clearly than that. Even if it had been possible for him to love her, he wasn't going to let it happen. He wasn't going to ask her to stay.
It was for the best, she told herself fiercely. No matter how she felt, their lives lay a thousand miles apart. If he had asked her to stay she might have been foolish enough to agree, but it could never have worked out. Besides, what she felt for him was undoubtedly a product of their being thrown together under extraordinary circumstances.
Once back in L.A., this would all fade back into perspective. She had her job and Cullen, and of course, David was waiting for her. It didn't matter that she couldn't bring David's face to mind. He loved her and their lives lay along similar paths. They could make a good life together.
She shifted with a suddenness that startled a grunt of surprise from him. Her slim body fit neatly over the hard planes of his, her eyes gleaming with some emotion he couldn't read as she looked down at him. It was no longer possible to deny that dawn had arrived. The room was bathed in a clear light that illuminated the two lovers with gentle clarity.
Sara curled her legs along the outside of his hips, her breasts brushing tantalizingly across the furred surface of his chest. His eyes flared with emerald light and his body stirred beneath her. Sara gave him a slow smile, invitation in her eyes.
For just a little while longer, she wanted to pretend that she wouldn't be wal
king away from him. She wanted to pretend that it was all going to work out as it did in storybooks. She wanted to pretend that he was hers to keep.
Their coming together was explosive, hard, powerful and fast, leaving destruction in its wake. Lying across his body afterward, Sara felt drained, hopeless in a way she'd never known before. She wanted to close her eyes and shut out reality.
Cody savored the feel of her slight weight on top of him. His heart was still pounding, and a damp sheen of perspiration molded them together. Her hair lay like a skein of golden silk across his chest. The last time. He shut out the little voice that tolled the end. If he let himself really absorb the fact that this was the last time, he might not be able to restrain the urge to scoop her up in his arms and lock her away forever.
Pain lanced through him, and his arms tightened across her back. He'd come as close as he could to telling her how he felt. If she chose to walk away, there was nothing he could do to stop her. He'd rather lose her now than get caught in the destructive pattern his parents had followed.
They lay there without speaking, each dreading what the coming day would bring, neither speaking their fears out loud. With each upward movement of the sun they were that much closer to the moment of goodbye. A moment neither of them was sure they had the strength to face.
Sara at last sought refuge in sleep, forcing her mind to empty and letting herself drift away on a sea of forgetfulness. Cody listened to her breathing even out and told himself that he should leave. There were always things to be done on a ranch. Every daylight hour had to be used. But his hands tightened, shifting her into a more comfortable position. Just a little while longer.
This time would have to last him the rest of his life.
Chapter 13
If Sara thought she'd reached the absolute nadir of misery with the realization that there could be no future for her with Cody, she discovered that that had been nothing compared to the pain of walking away.
She'd been alone when she woke, and for a moment she'd wondered if the whole thing had been a dream. But there was a delicate soreness in her muscles that had nothing to do with long hours spent in the saddle. No, she hadn't dreamed any of it.
She began to wonder again when she confronted Cody's totally impassive features over the breakfast table. There was no hint of last night's impassioned lover. They might have been casual acquaintances for all the interest he showed in her. There was far more warmth in his attitude toward Cullen.
And he didn't change. He helped her pack her things into her car, helped Cullen ease his stiff leg onto the floorboards, made sure that she felt confident about driving on the snow-covered roads and then stepped back from the car. Sara pulled her door shut with a distinct slam. If he could be so cool about it, then so could she. She put the car in gear, but her foot hesitated on the gas. For just an instant, her eyes met his through the glass, imprinting this last picture of him on her mind. It had to last her forever.
He was wearing jeans and boots and a sheepskin-lined denim jacket. A battered cowboy hat shaded his face from the white sunlight reflecting off the snow, but she didn't have to be able to see his features. They were imprinted in her mind's eye as firmly as her own were.
Dog sat beside him, as impassive as the man. His yellow eyes gleamed at her, but she couldn't tell whether or not he would be sorry to see her go. The man and dog were appropriate companions. Both of them born for this country. Each walking through life without commitments to another.
With a mental curse she forced herself to turn away, and her foot pressed the accelerator. The reason the landscape was foggy was because the defroster wasn't working very well. It had nothing to do with tears in her eyes.
She felt Cullen's eyes on her, but he didn't say anything until the car rattled across the cattle guard and out under the wooden archway that announced the ranch.
"I think the pair of you are the biggest fools I've ever met." His tone was so conversational that it took her a moment to realize what he'd said. The look she threw him would have melted snow at thirty paces. He was not visibly chastened but he didn't add anything to the one statement.
The snowplows had been at work, and the highways to Denver were clear of snow. Sara almost wished they had been covered with snow. It would have given her something to keep her mind off Cody Wolf.
By the time they got to Stapleton Airport, Sara was so numb that she couldn't even get up the energy to be afraid of flying. She'd asked Billy Williams not to call anyone about Cullen's rescue. She would make all the necessary calls from L.A. Cullen was in no condition to answer endless questions, and she couldn't bear to linger so close to Cody.
She busied herself with seeing to Cullen's comfort, shutting out both the big jet and thoughts of what she'd left behind. Cullen let her fuss, knowing that she needed it more than he did. He assured her for the twentieth time that he wasn't afraid to fly again, pointing out that there was very little connection between an airliner and a small plane. She clutched at his hand anyway, and he let her. She needed the human contact.
The flight was uneventful, and they landed at LAX in the early afternoon. It had been cold and snowy in Denver, but Los Angeles was bathed in smoggy sunshine and the temperature hovered near eighty. The change was hard to adjust to, and Sara found herself trying to shed her warm coat, find her sunglasses and remember where to catch the bus that would take them to her car. But at least she didn't have time to think of Cody.
In fact, she had little time to think about anything or anyone but Cullen over the next few days. They hadn't taken him to a doctor in Denver because he wanted to see a specialist who had once treated his father. Sara had argued at first, but Cullen pointed out, with a pragmatism that was almost frightening, that the damage to his knee had already set as much as it was going to. One day's delay wasn't likely to do any more harm.
She couldn't argue with that, but she did insist on calling the doctor from the airport and driving Cullen right to his office. From there, he was immediately put in the hospital for a battery of tests and a series of X rays to assess the damage to his leg.
Somewhere in between all the visits to the hospital, she found time to call the authorities in Colorado to give them the details of Cullen's rescue and Bill Taylor's death. But Cody had been there ahead of her. When she called John Larkin, she found that he already knew everything he needed to know. He was upset that she hadn't called him before leaving the state, but he couldn't argue with her desire to get Cullen to a doctor as quickly as possible.
He told her how happy he was that she'd found her nephew safe and sound, but there was an underlying tension in his voice that made Sara remember Cody's comment that he was uneasy with things that couldn't be explained in a clear, logical manner. It wasn't that Larkin wished she hadn't found Cullen; he just wished she'd done it in a more conventional manner.
He'd already set the official wheels in motion. They were trying to trace down Bill's next of kin. Sara knew of no one, and if indeed it turned out that he had no family, they would take into advisement Cullen's request that they leave the body where it was. Bill had loved the wilderness, and it seemed a fitting place for him to be laid to rest.
Sara hung up the phone feeling as if a just-healing wound had been opened again. The contact with Cody, however distant, was painful. She wanted to turn around to find him there. She was worried sick about Cullen and she longed for someone to share that worry with. David had been doing a shoot in San Francisco when she returned and wasn't expected back for another two days, but even if he had been there, she couldn't see herself turning to him.
She forced herself to stand up and walk into her bedroom. She had only come home to call Larkin. Now that that duty was taken care of, she wanted to get back to the hospital as soon as possible. One day soon she was going to have to pick up the threads of her life, but not quite yet! All she had the energy for right now was to concentrate on Cullen, on his recovery.
"The limp should be slight, hardly noticeable. Y
ou can see how the cartilage will knit here and here." Sara stared at the pictures the doctor was holding up without seeing them. Her hand reached out and found Cullen's, squeezing his fingers without looking at him.
The doctor continued to talk, showing exactly what the damage to the knee had been and just what they were going to do to repair it. He didn't seem aware that he'd lost at least half of his audience.
Sara didn't look at Cullen until after the doctor had finished, closing the door behind him, apparently confident that he'd delivered good news. When she at last turned her eyes to her nephew, he was staring at the wall opposite his hospital bed, his face totally without expression. He looked so much older than his eighteen years that she wanted to weep for the lost youth he could never recover.
"Cullen?"
He blinked and turned his eyes to her. His mouth stretched in a smile but there was little humor in the expression. "It's okay, Sara.'-'
"I'm sorry."
His fingers tightened on hers in acknowledgment. "I know. I was hoping for better news, but I didn't really expect it." He stared at his immobilized leg. "I think I knew that the damage was too bad for them to repair it completely.''
"Oh, Cullen, I'm so sorry." She blinked to hold back tears. His words were calm, but she could see the agony in his eyes, could feel it as if it were her own. At his age, to be told that he would limp for the rest of his life was hardly good news. He let his head fall back on the pillows and shut his eyes. The gesture might have shut her out, but the way his fingers tightened on hers told her that he wanted her there.
Hesitantly, she reached up to brush the dark blond hair back from his forehead. She wanted to put her arms around him as she had when he was a boy and tell him that she'd make it all right. But he wasn't a boy anymore and this wasn't something that she could make all right.
"I'm so sorry." She could only repeat the helpless words.
He shrugged. "It could have been a lot worse. I'm lucky to be alive in the first place. A gimpy leg isn't that bad." His voice cracked and his features twisted in angry rejection. "Damn it!"
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