Vows of the Heart

by Susan Fox

  "I don't have it in for Jessie," Veronica said.

  Cole's face hardened and his eyes shifted away from hers.

  "Jessie denied it, too."

  "Well, Jessie is—" Veronica stopped her angry excla­mation, frustrated that she couldn't be candid about Jessie without sounding vindictive.

  "Lying?" Cole supplied for her, the smirk on his lips conveying his skepticism.

  Just like before, Veronica thought, astonished at the old feeling of helplessness. Cole had never been able to see through Jessie's perfidy. Veronica abruptly stopped dancing, and made a move to leave the floor.

  Cole's hands clamped like steel around her narrow waist. "You're really worked up, aren't you?" His eyes narrowed with faint incredulity on Veronica's flushed face. Violet eyes that sparkled with anger stared back steadily, defiantly.

  "Yes, I'm angry," she said as calmly as her quivering voice would allow. "Jessie could tell you the earth was flat and you'd believe it." Veronica was unaware of the sudden glint of perception in Cole's expression. Her eyes shied guiltily from his and her slim fingers tightened on the thickly muscled forearms beneath her hands.

  "I'm sorry," she murmured contritely. "You love Jessie and I shouldn't have said anything against her. Please don't let anything I've said color your relation­ship with her." Veronica again tried to move away, her eyes veering apprehensively to his when he didn't release her.

  "Would you stay and dance with me some more?" Cole asked as the band began another slow tune. The in­viting smile on his face brought an uncertain curve to her lips.

  "You aren't angry with me?" Now it was Veronica's turn to look surprised.

  "I wasn't angry in the first place," Cole rumbled softly, as he pulled her close and began to lead her gently in the dance.

  But as Veronica relaxed in his arms and felt her senses succumb to Cole's nearness, she knew they were both less than pleased with the way the evening had turned out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "You don't want Curtis to have any fun, do you?" Jessie hissed at Veronica, berating her for her cautious­ness.

  The two young women were standing in the yard be­tween the house and the driveway, one wearing soiled garden gloves and old clothes with grass stains on the knees, the other dressed in a bright red halter top and designer jeans, her sunglasses parked on top of her lush golden head. Curtis stood in the back of Jessie's green pickup watching the two argue, the mutiny on his young face a clear indication of who championed his cause.

  "I mean it, Jessie," Veronica insisted. "I won't let you take Curtis without Cole's permission, and even with it he'd have to be buckled into a seat belt inside the cab of that pickup."

  "What gives you the right to say what Curtis does or doesn't do?" the blonde challenged.

  "Cole left Curtis with me for the morning. He's not going anywhere without Cole's permission, and when he gives it I'm going to suggest that allowing you to give Curtis a wild ride into town in the back of that truck is dangerous."

  "My God, Veronica. Curtis has ridden all over this ranch in the back of pickups from the time he could walk." Jessie's arm swung in a belligerent arc.

  "That may be, Jessie, but I doubt very much that anyone around here pulls stunts like you did just coming in here. If you had wanted to convince me that you're a responsible driver, you shouldn't have fishtailed the last quarter mile then slammed on the brakes just in time to miss my car by a hair's breadth."

  "I know what I'm doing, Ronnie," Jessie insisted. "I'm in control of that truck every moment."

  "And that's what makes you such a dangerous driver—you think you're in control. You've been trust­ing a lot to luck and I won't let you take chances with the boy's life." Veronica was immovable on the subject. She had spent enough time in hospitals and rehabilitation centers to have seen and heard several horror stories, most of the heartbreakingly tragic ones concerning chil­dren who had become tiny projectiles in relatively minor accidents because they were not properly restrained in car safety seats or seat belts.

  "Oh, I get it." Now the amber eyes were narrowed, speculative. "You really are after Cole, aren't you? You must think that keeping Curtis from spending time with me will cut me off from both of them."

  Veronica was distressed at Jessie's words. Further­more she was sure that Curtis could hear every word— whatever Jessie's faults, Veronica knew the boy idolized the woman.

  "I am not 'after' Cole," Veronica said quietly, strug­gling to keep her agitation under control. "And I have no objection to you taking Curtis anywhere—if you get Cole's permission first and see that Curtis wears a seat belt while he's in the truck with you."

  "But I've had Curtis ride with me a hundred times and he's never gotten so much as a scratch," Jessie said dismissively. "All you have to do is tell Cole when he comes to the house that I've taken Curtis into Cheyenne for the day. He won't mind." Jessie turned away and strode to­ward her truck. Curtis's face broke into a big smile as he obviously assumed Jessie had got her way.

  "Jessie!" Veronica moved swiftly on her crutches after her, desperate to keep Jessie from undermining her au­thority and endangering Curtis. If anything happens to that boy while he is in my care. . . Veronica was terrified at the thought. "Wait Jessie! You can't just drive off with the boy."

  But Jessie ignored her and was striding around the truck to the driver's side when Veronica reached the pas­senger door. Quickened by frustration and concern, Veronica jerked the door open and climbed in far enough to pull the keys from the ignition. She had just closed the door and slipped the keys into her jeans pocket when Jessie came around the truck to confront her.

  "That was a childish thing to do, Veronica!"

  "Childish or not, you're going to get Cole's permis­sion first." Veronica's eyes shifted from Jessie's furious face to Curtis's scowl. "Come on, Curtis. Let's go find your father." Veronica turned to head in the direction of the barns, then froze when she saw Cole's iron expres­sion as he stood watching from the corner of the house.

  "What's going on here?" Cole's gaze slid from Jessie to Veronica, his look seeming to lay the blame equally between them. "You can give Jessie back her keys."

  Veronica felt her face warm as she realized Cole had seen how she'd come to have Jessie's keys in her pocket. Removing her glove, she dug into her jeans and handed them to a triumphant Jessie.

  "I told you, didn't I?" Jessie said to Veronica, giving Cole a knowing look that made Veronica feel small.

  "Come down out of the truck, Curtis," Cole said. "You're not going anywhere."

  Suddenly Jessie didn't look so triumphant as Curtis reluctantly obeyed, but began whining to know why.

  "Go to your room, son. I'll be in to explain why in a little while." Curtis's lower lip was trembling and Veron­ica's heart went out to him. When Curtis went inside, Cole moved closer to Veronica and Jessie.

  "I don't want Curtis witnessing anything like this again." Cole's stern look included them both. "Jessie, Curtis was Veronica's responsibility, and from now on I expect you to abide by her decisions without passing judgment on them in front of Curtis. And I don't want you to make any remarks to him later, either," Cole added before his voice went less stern. "I'd appreciate it if you'd forget about taking Curtis today. Maybe one day next week you can stop by."

  Jessie looked stricken. "But Cole—"

  "Please, Jessie." Cole's voice was gentle, regretful, and Jessie seemed to brighten. Flashing Veronica a sat­isfied look, Jessie strode off with her usual easy grace and climbed into the pickup. The smirk that marred her per­fect mouth told Veronica whom the woman believed would bear the brunt of Cole's displeasure. When the green pickup roared out of earshot, Veronica faced Cole.

  "I'm not sorry, Cole," she told him firmly. "And I was going to insist that you not allow Curtis to go with her even if she did agree to buckle him in a seat belt. She's just too reckless."

  "I saw the way she drove up," Cole said grimly, his eyes running over Veronica's defiant look.

>   "I think it would be a good idea if you kept Curtis with you when he's home," she said. "I can't guarantee he won't be in the middle of something just as unpleasant in the future." She took a steadying breath. "And I just don't want the responsibility of taking care of him." Be­sides, she thought bleakly, Curtis resented her presence and would barely heed anything she said.

  "If that's the way you feel." Cole let his voice trail off, his jaw flexing with what she thought was ill-concealed displeasure. "But I think you ought to know that there's no doubt in my mind that you have Curtis's safety and best interests at heart. After what I just saw, I trust you completely with my son."

  Veronica frowned in confusion. "But I handled it all wrong." She was thinking of the way she'd grabbed Jes­sie's keys and stuffed them into her pocket when she couldn't think of a more mature way to handle the situ­ation.

  "Jessie didn't exactly leave you with many polite op­tions," Cole acknowledged, then paused. "I'm sorry, Ronnie. I didn't realize how spiteful Jessie could be with you when she thinks no one else is around."

  Veronica found herself smiling.

  "And I can tell by the look on your face that I'm sev­eral years late with that observation." Cole was rest­lessly slapping the work gloves he had in one hand into the palm of the other.

  "Better late than never," Veronica hazarded as she tugged the soiled garden glove back on her hand. The action drew Cole's gaze downward. He glanced toward the flower bed where she'd been working, and Veronica watched him closely for any sign of disapproval.

  She hadn't asked permission to weed the overgrown beds. The bright Sunday morning air had enticed her out and since it was her regular day off, she'd planned to spend the day recovering some of the straggly perennials from the weeds. Cole turned and walked toward the house, wordlessly surveying the garbage bag of weeds and debris she'd gleaned and the extra bag she hadn't opened yet. The dark earth around each little plant she'd saved had been tilled with a hand rake, then carefully watered.

  "I hope you don't mind." She spoke to Cole's un­communicative back. He didn't answer right away. In­stead he crouched down and tenderly ran a finger beneath a mum leaf.

  "It's a wonder any of these have survived." Cole spoke so softly that Veronica almost thought he was talking to himself. "For quite a while after Jackie died, I had someone keep these up. I guess I haven't thought too much about them lately." Cole was quiet and Veronica sensed he was remembering.

  Suddenly the tragedy of Jackie's death and how hard Cole must have taken it brought a wave of sadness over her. It was apparent that Cole had been very much in love with Jackie, and in his letters to Veronica, Hank had al­ways said that if it hadn't been for Curtis, Cole might not have recovered.

  How different Cole was from the way she remem­bered him. And now that she was getting to know him, she found him to be the reverse of the harsh unfriendly stepbrother she could never please as an adolescent.

  Her gentle heart suddenly constricted with sadness and compassion, and Veronica felt, to her consternation, the welling of tears in her eyes. Cole stood up, and self­-consciously, she tried to blink the tears away before they could fall, but Cole had already seen. He stepped closer.

  "I'm such a sentimental sap," she kidded, smiling sheepishly. A warm callus-toughened palm came up to cup her cheek. Her eyes had cleared now and were fixed on the compelling blue of Cole's. Veronica's senses be­gan to reel as Cole's lips came over hers in a tender chaste kiss.

  In the next moment, his other hand circled her waist and pressed her almost fiercely against the hard thrust of his hips. The tenderness vanished at the burst of raw hunger in his kiss. Her mouth opened, craving more, and Cole needed no clearer invitation. She fairly melted in his arms as his tongue did things to hers that left her trem­bling, her insides like warm butter.

  "I want you, Ronnie," he murmured against her lips. "I think I'd do just about anything to keep you here with me."

  Reality whirled away into the distance, and Veronica wondered if she'd just imagined Cole's words. He moved his lips to the soft flesh of her throat, then nibbled a path to her ear.

  "Will you stay?" his warm mouth whispered. "It will be good between us, Ronnie."

  Veronica's heart thrilled to the velvet edge of his gruff voice, to the sensual promise of more of this taste of heaven. At first she resisted the weak intrusion of sanity, as her slumberous eyes opened to the passion-blackened depths of his.

  "What I feel for you just won't go away," he was say­ing. Veronica was too lovestruck to recognize the differ­ence between what she'd longed to hear from Cole and what he'd actually said. Joy welled up inside and Veron­ica pulled his mouth back to hers, taking her turn at lov­ing aggression. Cole's ragged breathing mingled with hers, his arms tightening almost painfully around her slenderness. Now she recognized the difference between the love she'd thought she'd felt for Eric and the blind­ing intensity of the love she now had for Cole.

  "If we don't stop this . . ." he murmured. "Just stand still for a moment." Veronica was only too happy to comply, delighted that Cole was struggling to restrain his arousal—his arousal for her. He released her slowly.

  "Curtis will think I've forgotten about him." Cole's lips quirked before they came down on hers for a last brief kiss. Then he was leaning down for her fallen crutches. "We'll take up where we left off after Curtis goes to bed tonight," he promised in a rough whisper.

  Veronica was helpless to keep her eyes from following Cole as he started to walk away from her toward the back of the house. He turned momentarily, his eyes still burn­ing as they raked over her in a promise of possession that sent a fresh flood of weakness through her system. Then he disappeared around the corner of the house and went inside.

  Sanity didn't return immediately, and Veronica had finished her work in the flowerbed before niggling little doubts began to creep in. Facing Cole over the kitchen table at lunch with a sullen little Curtis between them had brought what was really happening into clearer focus. By supper that evening, Veronica's feet had finally touched earth.

  I want you, Ronnie. . . it will be good between us. . .I'm afraid I won't be able to wait. . . again and again Cole's words paraded through her mind. We'll take up where we left off after Curtis goes to bed tonight, he had said.

  Cole was offering her an affair.

  Veronica squeezed her eyes closed and felt like an id­iot. How had she let her love for Cole get so out of hand that she'd been unable to understand what he had so clearly said? If she'd doubted her sanity after Eric de­serted her, she was certain she was more than a little crazy now. And when Cole came to her room as he seemed to have every intention of doing, how would he react when he saw her scars and found out the truth about her mar­riage to Eric?

  Heartsick, Veronica realized she had to seek him out— talk to him, make some excuse. Perhaps she could de­fuse the whole situation before it blew up in her face.

  Veronica moved nervously into the hall, then stopped. She was as close now as she was going to come to telling Cole everything about her marriage to Eric. Would that be so bad, she asked herself.

  Before she'd come back to Wyoming, she'd dreaded Cole's finding out about her marriage to Eric because of her fear that he'd either make the obvious comparison between her and her mother, or worse, tell her outright he wasn't surprised that Eric had wised up and dumped her before he'd consummated the marriage. Getting to know Cole better had slowly eroded those fears, but what would Cole say if she admitted her lack of experience and told him she wouldn't, couldn't, let their relationship go any further? Forcing herself to get it over with, Veronica moved down the hall to the den.

  Cole looked up when she stepped into the doorway. Seeing her, he leaned back in the big chair behind his desk, his gaze lazily appraising her slender body. For the umpteenth time that day, Veronica was reminded of the ugliness he'd see if he saw her unclothed.

  Funny how she'd consoled herself with the psycholo­gist's assurances that the man who truly fell
in love with her would not mind the scars. Now that she'd come this close to intimacy with Cole, she realized she hadn't really believed those assurances.

  "I'd like to talk to you, Cole." Veronica suddenly had trouble maintaining eye contact with the roving gaze that had returned to rest on her flushed face.

  "I was just finishing up in here," Cole said, his look gently chiding her for what he must have assumed was impatience.

  "What we need to talk about has to be discussed be­fore then," she said, her voice as firm and as determined as she could manage.

  "Having second thoughts?" There was only a touch of sternness in Cole's voice. From the almost indulgent smile on his face Veronica knew he was confident that a few kisses would remove any reservations she might have acquired since late morning. It also confirmed that Cole did indeed intend for them to make love.

  Veronica was extremely apprehensive and her hands clenched and unclenched on the crutch grips. "I misled you this morning, Cole," she began, watching the slight narrowing of his eyes. "Not intentionally," she hurried to add, "but I just got. . . carried away. I know it was unfair of me to allow you to think I would be willing to. . ." She paused nervously. "I guess I wasn't. . .thinking clearly." Her stumbling speech must have sounded ab­surd. "I'm sorry."

  Cole's expression turned flintlike before he glanced away from her, a crease forming slowly between his dark brows. When his eyes came back to hers, she could dis­cern nothing of what he was thinking other than he must be angry with her.

  "Do you want something a little more permanent than what you thought I was offering this morning?" Cole's gaze was intent, and probing.

  "I don't want you to misunderstand me," she said, her voice sounding abysmally virginal. "I realize you can't offer me a permanent relationship—not that I'm trying to pressure or coerce you into one," she assured him hastily, her mouth going dry. "But I can't have an affair with you." Cole stared at her steadily, unnerving her with his ongoing silence.