by Vonnie Davis
“Your children’s, too. When you have them, that is.” For some reason that thought saddened her. She looked away; what right did she have to be bothered that he’d have children with a woman he loved?
His silence unnerved her. Had she said something wrong? Oh, right. His recent break-up with his fiancé. Their awkward silence stretched on.
After several minutes, Storm asked if she was getting the feel of her horse. She nodded. “Think you can keep up with us?” His white teeth shone in the moonlight. He tugged on the brim of his hat and kneed Lightning, who took off like a bullet.
“Let’s go, Princess! The race is on.” She leaned over the Appaloosa’s head and enjoyed the exhilaration of the wind blowing through her long hair as her mount ate up the ground. To her credit, Princess did her best to catch up to Lightning as the black stallion galloped across the range and then up a hill.
Storm reined his mount to a halt when they reached the top of the rise. Several large live oaks and cottonwoods dotted the landscape. Storm was laughing, obviously pleased with the ride. He leaned down and patted his horse, murmuring praises to Lightning, who nodded and snorted in response.
Rachel was laughing, too. She hadn’t enjoyed herself this much in ages. Oh, the freedom of riding a horse, she’d forgotten the exhilaration of the ride.
Storm took his hat off and resettled it on his head. “Pretty good riding for a Mississippi Mouse.”
She felt her smile slide off her face as if it were ice cream melting off the cone. Was she really so mousy? First Kyle. Now Storm. Her stomach twisted and sank. She bit her lower lip and looked away. First, the sad thoughts of her selling her home depressed her, and now this. Her emotions were too close to the surface tonight. They had been since their earlier conversation about Drew.
Storm brought his horse around so it was facing the opposite direction from Princess, which put him side by side with Rachel. “What’s wrong?”
She raised and lowered a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Just coming back to reality, I suppose. I was feeling rather attractive earlier tonight in my new clothes and ‘ho-red’ heels. Your remark about my being mousy brought me back to earth.”
Storm muttered an oath. “I never said you were mousy. Good God, woman, you have to know you’re a knockout.”
“It’s okay. It’s something I’ve heard plenty of times before from a guy I used to date. You only reinforced his opinion.” Didn’t she feel like the fool? What possessed her to confide in this man?
He stared at her for a moment and then reached out to place his hands on her waist. “Come here.”
“What?” She felt a sense of panic. What was he going to do?
“Slip your feet out of the stirrups. Come on, now.” For reasons she couldn’t explain, she did as he asked. He lifted her from her saddle and settled her in front of him. Lightning danced to one side a couple of steps, and Storm calmed him with a few words. His strong arms held her against him as she sat sideways on the horse. “Who was this yahoo who said you were mousy?”
He brushed her hair from her forehead and peered into her eyes. Oh Lord, she was in big trouble. If she hadn’t made a big enough fool of herself earlier, her reaction to him just now was practically virginal, which she was not. Yet the force of his blatant sexiness made her feel inexperienced. “Tell me, now.” His voice was gentle, yet commanding.
She looked away and sighed. “I recently broke up with a man who insisted I was plain and mousy. It’s no big deal.”
Storm’s one arm was around her back, supporting her. His other hand went to her neck and pulled her face closer. “The man was twenty times a fool if he didn’t appreciate what he had, who he had. I’ve always had a hankering for mice, myself. Had several as pets when I was growing up. Believe me, I meant no disrespect by calling you a Mississippi Mouse. On the contrary.”
His dark eyes glistened in the moonlight, and his gaze dropped to her lips. “You pull at me, Rachel. God help me, I can’t resist one more taste.” His lips touched hers, and fireworks went off. A groan escaped. He turned her so they were chest to chest and his arms banded around her, holding her tight. His tongue flicked at her lips. “Open for me, mouse.”
“No, I’ll die if I do.” She’d known men before, but this one was too powerful, too magnetic, too…sexy.
“I’ll die if you don’t.” He captured her lips again and kissed her slowly, so slowly she felt the earth rotate or her heart turn over, she couldn’t tell which. His hand went to her breast and covered it. Her nipple rose to make acquaintance with his palm. He groaned and pulled her closer. How could anything be so perfect? Wonderful didn’t begin to describe how she responded in the security of his arms. Mercy, this man knew his way around a pair of lips.
“My mouse,” he groaned as his lips breathed a trail of delicate kisses on her cheek and down her neck. Shivers fueled the fire burning inside her—a contradiction in terms, but that’s what this man did to her. Nothing made sense or mattered, but being in his arms. Yet things did matter. She would not be a woman on a man’s rebound.
She pressed a hand to his chest. “You’ve…you’ve recently broken off an engagement. Sunny told me. I suspect this is just a rebound thing for you. It’s too soon to move onto another woman. I won’t be used this way.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and drew a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I honestly don’t look on you as a rebound allure. I have a lot of respect and attraction for you. I want to get to know you better. You have to decide if you want to give me that chance.” He set her back on Princess, who’d obediently waited by Lightning’s side. “I hope you do.”
While she positioned her feet in her stirrups, he walked Lightning a few feet away as if he needed some space to collect himself. Should she join him? Or should she just head on back to the stables? Would she remember the way?
No, she’d rather take the bull by the horns. She cleared her throat. “Don’t get me wrong, Storm Blackhawk, I find you very attractive. However, I live by a personal set of codes. I don’t cheat on exams. I don’t do anything to harm my patients. Nor do I take things that don’t belong to me, like a man another woman loves. You two might still work things out and get married. It’s only been a few days, after all.”
Storm didn’t look her way. He kept his head turned. “If I didn’t feel lower than a rattler’s belly before, that speech just made me feel lower.” He shook his head once as if he’d come to a decision of some sort. “You’re a good woman, Rachel Dennison. I can’t say what force draws me to you, but something does.” His horse started prancing and he gentled him with low, calm murmurings. “It’s time we get back. Sunrise comes early.” He reined his horse and started to descend the hill.
They were almost to the stables when his cell phone played a tune. “Hello. No, Pilar, I really don’t want to talk.” He turned Lightning and walked him away a few steps. “We’re just getting back from a ride, and I’ll need to rub the horses down. Please don’t cry. You know I can’t take that…”
Rachel and Princess rode on toward the stables. She really didn’t want to hear his private conversation. In her opinion, the two would be back together within the week. Damn, if she didn’t want to cry herself.
Chapter Seven
Early the next morning, Storm was leaning against the corral fence, feeding pieces of apples to the horses. “Here, Beauty.” He presented a quarter of an apple in his outstretched hand. Sunny’s palomino daintily nibbled. “Ever the lady, huh?” Storm chuckled, and Beauty nodded and nickered. “You miss Sunny, don’t you, girl? Maybe she can ride again one day soon.”
He rubbed her muzzle. “I’m starting to have some hope about her illness. That she might have a chance at beating this cancer.” He prayed she would, hoped and prayed with every fiber of his being.
Lightning butted his head against Storm’s elbow where it rested on the top rung of the fence. “Okay, okay, don’t be so impatient.” The large horse blew through his nostrils, and his tail switched. �
��You’re being bossy again.” Storm cut another piece and presented it to his horse. “You’re too spirited for your own good. You know that, don’t you?” Lightning shook his head as if he understood, and maybe he did.
Princess jostled between the two, vying for her piece of the apple. “I didn’t forget you, little girl. Did you like Rachel? I think she kinda liked you.” Lightning nipped at Princess’s ear. “Now, be nice and share.” He fed the Appaloosa some apple and gave another piece to Lightning.
“I’m not spoiling you just ’cause you’re my horse.” Lightning nickered. Storm chuckled. “It’s just that we men have to stick together. Can’t let the fillies get control of us. You’ve got these two to contend with. I’ve got Rachel and Pilar. Gotta admit I don’t much care for the way Rachel stirs my blood. I can’t seem to keep my hands off her.” He rubbed his hand down Lightning’s forehead, and the horse stepped forward so Storm could bury his face in its neck. It seemed to Storm as if the horse were commiserating with his owner.
“Dreamed about her again last night, Lightning.” The horse whinnied. “At least the dream was different, but just as unsettling. Just as arousing. In case you’re wondering, I’m not waiting for another glimpse of Rachel on her run. Did you see that get-up she was wearing this morning?” Lightning nodded and blew out through his nostrils again. “Almost made me sit up and beg for buttermilk.”
He patted the horse’s neck. “God, I don’t know how much more my heart can take. She was probably right last night. I might just be hunting for a quick substitute for Pilar, a rebound thing. Got no business fantasizing about Rachel, but everything about her churns my hormones. She turns me on when I’m awake and taunts me in my dreams. Feel like I’m losing control.”
She’d been wearing a neon-yellow midriff top and blue short shorts this morning. Storm found it disturbing her legs looked as fabulous in sneakers as they had in those “ho-red” heels last night. He hardened at the thought and muttered a curse. How soon could Nurse Rachel get Sunny strong and healthy again and get the hell off his ranch—and out of his life? Did he really want her to leave until he got a chance to know her better?
His cell rang and he looked at the display. Pilar calling again. He let it go to voice mail. She’d called late last night, promised him she’d be more faithful and leave the cocaine alone if only he’d take her back. The woman had whining down to a fine art. All the while she was making her promises, Storm could hear his dad tell him over and over, “If a woman will cheat on you once, son, she’ll be prone to do it again.”
Rachel came around the bend in the long driveway, her sweaty skin glistening in the peach glow of sunrise. Ben, one of his ranch hands, astride his pinto, galloped over to the fence and called out a greeting. Rachel ran in place, waving and smiling at the rider.
Storm’s eyes narrowed in annoyance when Ben, who should have been checking the fence line to the south, got off his horse and leaned against the white fence, obviously checking out Nurse Rachel and her sweat-glistened skin. Storm heard her husky laughter and his mood darkened. Fool woman had no right being so friendly with his men.
Rachel waved a farewell and started running again. Ben didn’t get back on his horse but stood there grinning and watching. Storm whistled a shrill two blasts, and Ben glanced his way. When Storm motioned for Ben to get to work, the ranch hand saluted and got on his horse.
Storm figured now was as good a time as any to tell Nurse Rachel to stay away from his men. The last thing he needed was some ranch romance gone bad. Not when her job here was to focus on getting Sunny stronger. He stalked toward her, calling her name.
She stopped and pivoted. “Morning, Storm. I was on my way to get some orange juice.”
“Not just yet. I’ve got something to get straight with you.” He knew he was sounding gruff, but he hadn’t slept well since she got to the Triple-S, and he was in a piss-poor mood.
“Oh? Can you tell me while I get some juice? I really need…”
“What you need, young lady, is to stay the hell away from my ranch hands. I want them working, not ogling you in that spandex get-up.”
She fisted her hands on her hips, her expression incredulous. “Excuse me?”
His eyes swept over her. “Don’t you have any decent clothes to run in? What happened to sweatshirts and sweatpants? What in hell were you and Ben so chummy about over there?” His chin jerked in the direction she’d been talking to Ben.
Sweat poured off her skin. She trembled and had a faraway, glazed look.
“I’ve got a ranch to run here. I can’t be worried about some…”
“Orange ju…” Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped to the ground.
Storm’s heat stopped, then stuttered back to life. Good God! He scooped her into his arms. “What in God’s name?” He gently shook her. When she didn’t respond, he ran for the kitchen door. “Noella! Noella!”
The housekeeper came running. “Sí, Master Storm. What is it? What’s wrong with Rachel?”
He charged into the cool of the kitchen. “She passed out.” Maybe if he hadn’t been ranting at her, she wouldn’t have fainted, but now wasn’t the time for recriminations. “She kept talking about getting orange juice and started trembling.”
“Ah…her sugar has dropped.” Noella rushed to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of orange juice, reaching for a glass. “I know what to do.”
Storm stood there holding his unconscious burden. He stared at her pasty, clammy skin. “Sugar? What are you talking about?”
Noella bustled over with a full glass of juice and a spoon. Removing the lid from the china sugar bowl, she added two spoonfuls of sugar to the juice and stirred. “Set her in a chair and try to get her awake enough to drink this. She is diabetic. Her sugar levels have dropped too low. This juice will help.”
“A diabetic? You mean to tell me we’ve hired a sick woman to take care of my sister?”
“Stop yelling. Set her down, please.” Noella motioned to the chair with the spoon.
When he placed Rachel on the wooden chair, she moaned and nearly toppled off. He grabbed her arms and settled her in one spot. Then he gently slapped her cheek. “Rachel. Rachel, honey. Wake up.”
Her long brown lashes fluttered on pale cheeks. “Wha…?”
Noella shouldered in between him and Rachel. “Little one, drink this for Noella.” She placed the glass against Rachel’s lips. “Drink now.”
Rachel sipped and choked. Then sipped again.
“More. Drink more, little one.” How many times had Noella cooed those same words to him when he’d been little and hurting so badly after his mother dropped out of his life? He’d stopped eating and refused to talk to anyone. Storm forced those painful memories from his mind. Instead he focused on the attractive woman in front of him.
Rachel sipped again, taking longer gulps. Her eyes fluttered open. “More,” she croaked.
“Sí, you drink for Noella. You should have eaten before you ran, but I say nothing.” The housekeeper clucked her tongue.
“Wanted…wanted to be ready for…” Rachel took another drink. “For mustangs.”
“Next time, you’ll know better. Eat first, then run.” Noella held the glass away from Rachel’s lips. “There’s a couple sips left. You drink it all, sí?”
Rachel nodded and reached for the glass. When it was empty, she handed it back to Noella. “I’ll be all right now. It only takes a couple minutes for my levels to rise.” She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and sighed.
He couldn’t take it another minute. The woman had fainted right in front of him, taking twenty years off his life. When she’d crumbled to the ground, his heart had crumbled with her. He stood in front of her, grasping the back of the chair on both sides of her shoulders, and leaned in so they were nearly nose to nose. “Why in hell didn’t you tell us you were sick?” He hadn’t felt this helpless and angry since he’d heard his sister’s diagnosis.
Her blue eyes popped open and then narro
wed. “I am not sick. I’m a diabetic. Rarely does this happen. I put my excitement over the arrival of the mustangs before my customary routine. Normally I have a container of yogurt before I run so my sugar levels don’t drop so low. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damned right it won’t happen again!” He was shouting at her and couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Maybe if you hadn’t stopped to flirt with Ben, you’d have gotten back to the house before you got so damned sick.”
“Are you deaf? I am not sick. I had a reaction to a low glucose level.” Rachel straightened and shoved at his chest. He leaned all the closer, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. She shoved at him again. “Besides, who do you think you are to yell at me like that? I wasn’t flirting, I was merely being friendly.”
“Oh? Like you were friendly with me out on Longhorn Road? Like you were being friendly with me last night?” He straightened and charged for the door. Stopping, he shot her a fierce frown, the one that usually sent his men scurrying. “When those mustangs come, I don’t want you within spitting distance of them. Is that clear?”
“Crystal clear, your eminence!”
He spun on his heel and shot her another dirty look. She hiked that pointy chin of hers and glared in defiance. Damn, but the woman had sand. A man could depend on a strong woman like that. Not him, of course, but someone else. Some lucky bastard. His eyes narrowed. For the first time in his life he had the urge to kill a man he didn’t even know.
“I’m going to town to pick up a water pump for the old truck. Need anything, Noella?”
“I can have a list ready in five minutes, and I hope your mood improves while you’re gone.” Noella extended both hands in a stop gesture. “But I say nothing.”
He shot both women a scowl before he stormed out of the kitchen.
