His Daughter's Laughter (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Hudson, Janis Reams

  From every direction she assaulted his senses. With a groan, he held back his own deliverance. It couldn’t end yet, not so soon.

  Carly slumped against him, her throat raw from gasping for air, sweat trickling between her breasts. It was a long moment before she realized what the tension in his arms meant. He was still hard and full within her.

  She raised her head. “You didn’t—”

  “I will.” He reached over and turned off the ignition and killed the lights. Then his arms worked their way be- neath her blouse and pulled it up until her breasts were bared. “Now,” he added, as if it were an afterthought.

  He moved inside her, slow and strong, making her breath shudder.

  “And so will you,” he swore. “Again.”

  Her head drooped to his shoulder. “I don’t think I can.”

  His hands splayed across her ribs. “You will,” he vowed, and pushed her away from his chest to take one nipple in his mouth.

  With a moan of sheer ecstasy, Carly clenched her thighs around his and thought, yes. She would. Again.

  Tyler purposely tormented her, suckling on her nipples until she was practically weeping, rotating his hips until she trembled. He would show her body what her mind re- fused to acknowledge—that they were right for each other; they belonged together.

  The air in the cab chilled, but their skin slicked with sweat. The only sounds were those of harsh breathing and the occasional groan of profound pleasure.

  “Tyler, please. Now. I need you now.”

  He flicked his tongue across her nipple. “Then tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” she managed to say.

  His thumb tormented the other bud. “Tell me you love me. Say it.”

  “Tyler, don’t.”

  Grinding his teeth against the urge to pound into her, he withdrew almost completely. “Say it.”

  She reached for his hips, trying to force him back home, but he held back. “Damn you.”

  “Say it!”

  “I love you!”

  With a low growl of triumph, he filled her, pushed into her until she took all of him.

  “I love you,” she said again. “I love you.”

  Then it was on him, and he couldn’t stop. With one final thrust, he reared off the seat and she stiffened in his arms. Her scream and his sharp cry burst from the enclosed cab and echoed across the empty plains.

  Tyler told himself the dampness on his cheeks was sweat.

  Amanda knew something was wrong. Grandad was try- ing not to show it, but she knew. He was acting like she had the time she was little and one of the barn cats had had kittens. One by one, the kitties had all gone to new homes. When it came time to give the last one away, Amanda had carried it with her everywhere, trying to hold on to it as long as she could before it left for its new home.

  That’s just how Grandad was acting with her. Like she was the last kitten. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

  Now it was almost bedtime and Daddy and Carly still weren’t home. All Grandad would say was that they’d had to go to Jackson Hole, but they would be home soon.

  He’d told her that before supper. They still weren’t home yet, and as far as Amanda was concerned, it was way past soon.

  Then, finally, she heard the old pickup outside. They’re back. Whatever was wrong and had Grandad worried, Daddy and Carly would fix it. They could fix anything.

  But when they came in, her daddy hugged her and hung on to her just the way Grandad had. If that weren’t enough to scare her, Carly’s eyes were red and puffy. She’d been crying.

  Oh, how Amanda wished she could talk, so she could make them tell her what was wrong! God? Are you up there? Amanda waited, but there was no answer. If you’re gonna give me back my voice, now would be a good time, God. Again she waited. She worked her voice, tried to speak. Nothing happened. God wasn’t listening.

  “It’s late, sweetpea,” her daddy told her. “You’ve got school tomorrow. Run on up and get ready for bed. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Just like a grown-up. Never tell her what was wrong, just scoot her off to bed. But Amanda went anyway, knowing she didn’t have any way to argue.

  She took the fastest bath on record, got her toothbrush wet in case anyone checked, then put on her nightgown and snuck to the top of the stairs. Maybe she could find out what was happening if they didn’t know she was listening.

  There was a lot of cussing going on down there. Then Grandad’s voice boomed. “The hell you are. Amanda still needs you.”

  Amanda wrapped her fists around the stair railing and leaned forward as far as she could.

  “I can’t help Amanda anymore,” Carly yelled. “I can only hurt her, and Tyler, and I won’t. Do you hear me? I won’t let them use me as an excuse to take Amanda away from her father.”

  Amanda’s hands turned icy cold. What did Carly mean?

  “So you’re gonna cut and run, is that it?”

  “I’m leaving in the morning.”

  “If you think I’m going to help you—” Daddy started to say.

  Carly interrupted him. “If one of you won’t give me a ride to the airport in Jackson Hole, I’ll get there on my own. Hell, with what you’ve been paying me, I can call a damned cab. Either way, I’m going.”

  “Go, then, damn you,” Amanda heard her daddy cry.

  At the top of the stairs, Amanda pushed herself to her feet. Carly was leaving? Going away? No, no, she couldn’t leave!

  It’s my fault, because I can’t talk.

  That had to be it. Carly had come to help her talk, and it wasn’t working. Oh, why, why was this happening? Mother had left because Amanda wouldn’t shut up, now Carly was leaving because she wouldn’t talk.

  Amanda had never had the chance to make things right with her mother, to realize she should have done what her mother told her. But Carly was still here. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix things this time.

  With tears clouding her vision, Amanda raced barefoot down the stairs. What if it didn’t work? What if she couldn’t do it?

  I have to try, I have to.

  She ran into the kitchen where the grown-ups stood next to the table, still talking. Amanda couldn’t hear them for her own harsh breathing and the thundering of her heart in her ears. She threw herself at Carly and wrapped her arms around her legs.

  Startled, Carly hugged the child close, feeling a pain deep inside with the knowledge that this would be their last night together. For Amanda’s sake she forced a calmness into her voice that she didn’t feel. “What are you doing down here, honey? We thought you were in bed.”

  When Amanda looked up, Carly saw the tears and misery on the girl’s face. She knelt and took the child in her arms. “Oh, honey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  Tyler came and knelt beside them. “Sweetpea, why the tears?”

  Amanda turned her gaze on him and he nearly wept at the pain in her eyes. She must have overheard them and knew Carly was leaving. She moved her lips and worked her throat, but as usual, only a breath of air came out.

  If Amanda could have made a sound just then, it prob- ably would have been a scream of sheer frustration. She had to be able to do this! She had to.

  She looked, up at Carly, begging her silently to change her mind. Don’t go, Carly, please don’t go away.

  She could tell by the look on Carry’s face that her efforts weren’t good enough. Carly didn’t understand.

  Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go.

  Not good enough! She had to try harder! Angry and scared, Amanda swiped the sleeve of her nightgown across her nose, then looked up at Carly again. She took a deep breath, parted her lips and placed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Don’t…go.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The room fell into an instant hush.

  Kneeling on the floor beside Amanda and Carly, Tyler held his breath until his chest burned. Was he hearing things? Dear God, had Amanda really spoken?

  He watched her stare up
at Carly and caught the instant that realization dawned across her young face. Her eyes widened. Her arms jerked. She swallowed and for a mo- ment, looked lost and frightened.

  “Baby?” he whispered, hoping, praying, reaching out a hand that trembled violently. “Sweetpea?”

  Amanda turned her wide-eyed gaze on him and swal- lowed. “Daddy?” came her soft, tentative voice.

  Never in his life had he heard a more beautiful sound. No music could have rang sweeter, no birdsong more pure. “You did it, sweetpea.” He opened his arms, and she came tumbling against his chest.

  “Daddy, Daddy,” came that pure, sweet sound again.

  Now it was Tyler who could not speak. His heart was too full of the miracle still ringing in his ears. Thank God, thank God.

  Blindly, because his vision had suddenly fogged over as if he was wearing glasses and had walked through steam, he reached for Carly and felt her take his hand.

  His chest tightened until he feared his lungs would burst with sheer emotion. At his shoulder, he felt his father’s hand. With his eyes squeezed shut, Tyler rubbed his face against Amanda’s hair and finally managed to speak, al- though shakily. “Oh, baby, you did it. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I can talk!” came Amanda’s excited cry as the knowl- edge finally sank in. “Daddy, Grandad, Carly, I can talk!”

  “’Course you can,” came Arthur’s voice, husky with emotion. “We knew you could do it, sugarplum.”

  Amanda squirmed in Tyler’s arms, making him realize he was practically strangling her. He loosened his hold.

  She turned and faced the woman kneeling at his side. “Carly?”

  Tears streaming unashamedly down her face, Carly gave Amanda a wobbly smile that nearly broke Tyler’s heart “You are the smartest, bravest, strongest girl in the world, Amanda Barnett, and I’m so proud of you.”

  Amanda met her gaze at eye level and swallowed again. “Does that mean you won’t go away now?”

  Tyler stiffened, holding his breath for her answer.

  Carly hung her head and sniffed. “Oh, honey, how I wish I could stay. I love you, you know. Very much. But I have to go.”

  “Daddy,” Amanda wailed, turning to him. “Don’t let her go. Tell her she has to stay.”

  He couldn’t look at Carly. If he did—hell, he was already on his knees. Next thing, he’d be begging. And that, he’d already done in the car. He couldn’t do it again. Still, when her name fell from his lips, it sounded an awful lot like a plea to him.

  Carly put her hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “Honey, I can’t stay.”

  “Is it…because somebody wants to take me away from Daddy?”

  Carly stiffened, her gaze flying to Tyler’s.

  “I heard you say it,” Amanda said softly. “But who would want to take me away from Daddy?”

  “Sweetpea,” Tyler started.

  “It’s Grandmother and Grandfather Tomlinson, isn’t it?”

  Suddenly weary beyond belief, Tyler slid from his knees to his rear and sat on the floor cross-legged. So much for keeping secrets in this house.

  “I don’t want to live with them,” Amanda cried. “I want to stay here with you and Carly and Grandad.”

  The three adults looked at each other, bewildered by the turn of events, unsure what to do next, how to explain.

  “Honey,” Carly said into the stillness. “Your grandpar- ents aren’t doing this to be mean or to hurt you. They…they love you very much.”

  “Remember that litter of kittens we had in the barn when you were little?” Tyler asked. “Remember how you hung on to that last one? Then that boy from town came out and took it away, and you cried and cried?”

  Amanda sniffed. “I remember.”

  “He didn’t take the kitty away to hurt your feelings or to make the kitty unhappy. He took it because he wanted it for himself, because he thought he could take care of it and give it a better home than that drafty old barn.”

  “But I don’t live in a drafty old bam, I live in the house! I don’t need a better home. I don’t want to live in Chi- cago.”

  “We know that, honey,” Carly offered, smoothing a hand down Amanda’s hair. “That’s why I have to go away. As long as I’m here; they think you’ll be better off with them. If I go back to San Francisco, maybe they won’t try to take you away.”

  Amanda opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, be- wildered by things no six-year-old should even know about, let alone have to come to terms with.

  Tyler silently called his former in-laws every filthy name he could think of for putting them all through this.

  Amanda sniffed again. “You’ll come back, won’t you?” she asked Carly.

  Tyler held his breath, waiting for her answer.

  Her voice shook when she said, “I can’t, honey. If I come back, they might try to take you away again.

  “But why?” Amanda wailed. “Don’t they like you? Don’t they know how nice you are?”

  Carly shook her head. “I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to them when they were here.”

  Amanda’s eyes widened. “Is it…because I stuck my tongue out at them?”

  “Oh, Amanda.” Carly hugged her close and rubbed her hand up the girl’s back. “No, honey, no. That they don’t like me has nothing to do with you. Nothing at all, I prom- ise. They made up their minds about me long before that.”

  Sniffing, Amanda stood back and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her nightgown. “Wh-when do you have to leave?”

  Her heart breaking, Carly whispered, “In the morning.”

  Amanda stared at her a long moment, her face creased with dismay. “Can I…can I come see you sometime… maybe?”

  Her stomach in knots, her throat filled with a huge lump, Carly looked at Tyler. His gaze was fixed stonily on the back of his daughter’s head.

  “I…” Carly tried to swallow, but her throat wouldn’t work. “I’d like that very much.” Then, before she could lose her courage, she gave Amanda a hug and a kiss, told her how much she loved her, and made her way slowly upstairs to her room. She had thought to run, but her feet seemed weighted down.

  Odd how painless everything suddenly seemed. Leaving Amanda and Tyler in the kitchen didn’t hurt the way she’d feared it would. Nothing hurt anymore, because she couldn’t feel anything. She saw her hand grip the banister, but could not feel the smooth wood beneath her palm. She couldn’t feel her clothes against her skin, nor the shoes on her feet.

  And when she looked at her reflection in the mirror of the dresser in her room, she dimly realized she couldn’t even feel the tears streaking down her cheeks.

  The numbness lasted through her encounter the next morning with Tyler, who handed her a check for the re- mainder of the hundred thousand dollars he’d promised her.

  “Now you’ve got money of your own. You more than earned it,” he’d told her. “No one can accuse you of being after mine.”

  She didn’t want the money, wished she had the energy to tear up the check. Instead she tucked it into her purse without looking at it. She knew what he’d meant—now that she had money, her excuse for leaving was no longer valid. He must be blind, she decided idly, not to see what the animosity of his friends and family—animosity that would not go away just because she now had money of her own— would do to the relationship he claimed he wanted.

  The numbness hung on even when Arthur drove her to the airport in Jackson Hole that same morning. It was cu- rious that he made no snide comments about the trouble her presence had caused Tyler, but she didn’t expend any great effort wondering at his uncharacteristic silence.

  On the flight home Carly felt nothing but the dull vibra- tions of the airplane that carried her farther and farther from those desolate sage-covered plains and hills, closer and closer toward…nothing.

  While waiting for her downstairs neighbor’s sister to va- cate the Nob Hill apartment, Carly stayed two weeks with her mother in Vallejo. She spent most of her time staring out the window of the den i
nto the backyard, ignoring her mother’s and stepfather’s probing questions and worried glances.

  It was nearly a month after moving back into her own apartment before the paralyzing numbness lifted. Feeling it go, Carly frantically clutched at it, trying to hold on, but the dullness slipped away. In its place came the sharpest, most crippling pain of her life.

  Not a moment went by that she didn’t picture Amanda’s tear-streaked face begging her to stay. Amanda stepping from the house in blue jeans for the first time; feeding Carly ice cream from her spoon; sticking her tongue out at her grandparents.

  Every vision brought a new pain, a new awareness of all Carly had once had and lost. Amanda. The ranch. The stark beauty of mile after mile of gray-green sagebrush blending slowly into the darkness of mountains and pines.

  And Tyler. She didn’t want to think of Tyler at all. She couldn’t bear to remember the way his blue-green eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled; the way he’d teased her about where milk and eggs came from; the many times he’d cornered her for a stolen kiss in the kitchen, the hen- house, the laundry room; the heat from his touch, the taste of his lips, the feel of his solid weight pressing her into the mattress. The way he filled her body, her heart, her very life, with his presence. The way he dominated it by his absence.

  No. She couldn’t think about Tyler.

  But neither could she stop.

  All she had left of him was his money. Damn him for leaving her with even that reminder, when all she wanted to do was put the last few months out of her head.

  Yet all that money sitting in her bank account fairly screamed at her, reminding her every day of Tyler, Amanda, Wyoming. Well, hell, she could get rid of the money, couldn’t she? Maybe then the memories would let her be and this agony in her chest would ease.