by Devine,Carol
I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me.
She hadn't experienced the link between her body and her soul until this moment. Desire was a living thing, building naturally until it burst, bright and strong. The Apostle Paul had been correct. Love wasn't wrong. Nor was it something to be feared. Love fed her spirit, reaching upward, outward, seeing the light in the eyes of her beloved. Zach's eyes.
They were a kaleidoscope in turquoise and gray, searching hers. Always searching. She felt the hardness of his body through the layers of clothing between them. So little separated them. And so much.
"No," she whispered.
"Yes." He lowered his head and kissed her softly. The pressure of tears built behind her eyes. She shook her head and his mouth moved with hers, expertly persuasive. Her hands tangled in his hair, disobedient but her heart was more wise and a tear slipped down from under her lashes. She cared about this man. And it tore at her, what she was contemplating, because she did care about him, very much.
"Zach, please, you must listen to me."
"I'm listening," he said into her mouth, using the movement of her lips to create another kiss.
"No, you're not." She shoved, her hands clenched in distress, and when he would have caught them, she raised one and slapped his face.
"No!"
He rubbed the mark reddening his jaw, his gaze oddly triumphant, as turbulent as a stormy sky.
"Don't ever do this to me again," she cried and fled.
Chapter Twelve
Nobility, Zach discovered, was a difficult master. It didn't help that he had so little practice at behaving with someone else's best interests in mind. He tried treating Sarah like a queen. The Snow Queen. He saw her every day for a week and never touched her. At least, not on purpose.
The hundred little accidents, the brush of her sleeved when he reached for his coffee, the press of his palm on her shoulder when he sat down next to her at the supper table, the flick of a finger when he passed platters of food to her didn't count. Neither did the searing looks he sent her way, the ones that made her blush. They didn't count because they caused him more pain than they did her. Awful pain. Terrible pain. The pain of knowing he could never have her. As long as he was subjecting himself to the constant torture of telling himself that, he could get away with calling himself noble.
She, on the other hand, was anything but. Sarah wore her heart on her sleeve. Her eyes followed him when they were in the same room and more than once she brought lemonade to him when he was alone finishing up repairs to the barn. Curiously these were the times he could relax his guard, for she practiced none of the arts of a seductress. Instead she talked, telling him bits about her day. He found himself listening to her in a way he hadn't really done before. As though he really cared.
The thing that saved him was Brazil. He'd promised Manuelo he'd return by the end of the month, just two weeks away, the time when expedition season would be starting in earnest. Zach refused to go back on his word this time. Thanks to his work and that of the ranch hands, the cattle were sold, the last of the fields harvested and the buildings in good enough shape to command top dollar. And so he put the wheels in motion for the real estate people to come out, assess the property, and put it up for sale.
The real estate agent was very optimistic. Forty miles away, the town of Boulder was growing at a great pace and large tracts of pristine land were hard to come by. Builders were scrambling for anything they could subdivide and build homes on and the prices they were willing to pay were mind-boggling. Zach put out of his mind what that might mean for Sarah, the hands, or the Bar M itself. The bottom line was, his brothers and sisters were the end beneficiaries of the bonanza and since he, himself, had been the main instigator of getting rid of the family ranch, now was the time to finish the job he'd promised to do on behalf of the family. He'd been lobbying them for years to get rid of it. No one wanted to run it for themselves and yes, it had been homesteaded by a great, great Masterson grandpa, but circumstances changed with the passage of years and the truth was, the stress of holding onto it broke up the last Masterson family to live on it.
Years ago he'd told himself it didn't matter what happened to the ranch. In spite of what he'd told Sarah and the hands, now was the time to prove it.
The day came right on schedule, two days before Halloween. An early winter snow drove him into the tiny bunkhouse office to put the finishing touches on the ranch books. When the real estate agent called, it didn't take a genius to recognize the offer was generous, designed to get him to accept it on the spot. He would have, too, but lately he'd grown less impulsive, less willing to go hell-bent for leather at the slightest provocation.
"I'll get back to you tomorrow," Zach said.
He left the bunkhouse and headed to the barn, then thought better of riding Nutkin, though the mare was due a good run. He wanted to think, not distract himself.
He veered west and put his head down against the stiff wind blowing from the northwest. He tucked his hands more firmly into the heavy coat he'd borrowed from Coburn and kept his eyes on the ground. Fifty minutes later he arrived at the bank of the creek where he had first seen Sarah, some four weeks ago.
Seeing the bare trees in the clearing where she'd built her fire, the water of the creek still running white in the center, the place where she'd dragged him to the bank edged with muddy grass, he thought he'd have some sentimental attachment to the place. But all it did was embarrass him.
He'd fallen off a horse and hit a rock with his head, and a woman fished him out before he bled to death and drowned. Reminders like that made the decision easy. He'd never been a sentimental man. Of course he would sell. Of course he would let her go, tell her goodbye, return to the absolutes of life, where there were no ties to the past and certainly nothing that tied him to the future. He would return to Brazil, having dispensed with everything that had ever held him back in his life. He'd be flush with cash, too, and thinking of Antarctica after the summer season was through.
He looked at the ridge Sarah had climbed, then disappeared. It probably would have been kinder to have let her go that day rather than drag her back to a job that may or may not have improved her life. What he knew for certain, though, was he would never come back. And though he knew he was doing the right thing, it hurt inside, in a way he couldn't explain. Even though the ranch symbolized all he had rejected in his life, he would miss it. It had served as a motivator, a reason to prove he, too, could be a success no matter what his old man said. This land had shaped him. So had the mountains above him and the clean bracing air. She had shaped him, too, saving his life the way she did, and letting him save hers, even if it was simply a few weeks respite from running and a fornicators come-on to keep her good and scared of him in order to stay chaste.
Now that he would miss.
Chapter Thirteen
Taking care to keep well-hidden, Sarah knelt on the backbone of granite on top of the ridge and peered down. Zach stood on the bank above the creek, staring at the icy water, a motionless figure among the stark, leafless trees. A chill ran through her, caused not so much by the wintry wind as the lonely look of him. She recognized a farewell scene when she saw one.
Since the intimacies they'd shared at the barn, she'd thought long and hard about the difference between love and lust, and why she continued to feel so drawn to him. But it wasn't until today, now, that she understood. For she could see that it was as difficult for him as it had been for her to say goodbye to the only home he had ever known.
She wanted to go down there and tell him that he didn't have to grieve, that in whatever new place he made his home, he would find the solace he was searching for. Yet she knew it wasn't true. Maybe it was true for her but not Zach. Because he couldn't make a new home without facing what had destroyed the old one.
The house, she thought. It always came back to the house and the last family who had lived there. Zach's family.
She could see it clearly, what the rejecti
on of his father had done to him, both good and bad. Yes, it taught him self-reliance, how to be capable and strong, to meet challenges most people dared not face, here, there, anywhere and everywhere. But it also kept him isolated and aloof, unwilling to appreciate the gifts given to him. Especially those that had to do with the Bar M.
So a great horseman and cattleman was lost to the wilds of Brazil. Perhaps that wasn't such a tragedy. The wilderness was the only food available to a lost soul. But it left him without roots, without peace. And she couldn't bear to watch someone she cared about live without peace. She needed to reach out to him in a way he wouldn't reject, and soon. The ranch had been put on the market. Strangers were coming to see it. She was running out of time.
The kiss in the barn had made her realize something else about herself. How human she was. And how vulnerable. In the Bible, temptation sounded like such a cut and dried thing, a simple question of right and wrong. It was wrong of him to pressure her so, to make light of her beliefs. But what was right about standing by and watching a man sell what was essentially the seat of his soul, the very place of his birth?
Very slowly Sarah withdrew from her perch on the rocky ridge. She took the long route back to the house, ambling aimlessly, thinking, praying. What would it take to get him to see the light?
The answer came to her when she stepped into the yard and Butcher came running to greet her. Not wanting to tip off Zach that she was following him, she'd bade Butcher to stay behind. Now the dog was so glad to see her he ran around in circles, yowling joyfully.
It was the joy that struck her, got to her, the sight of such love and devotion, directed totally at her. It was what Zach lacked. If he felt he was the object of such love and devotion, he wouldn't be able to say no.
Kneeling in the dirt, she hugged the wriggling dog. He snuffled loudly, drooled and licked her chin. Laughing, feeling incredibly light, she held him off by pushing him back and rubbed his ears. "That's my boy," she murmured. "I love you, too."
Chapter Fourteen
Two days later Zach told Sarah to prepare a special noon meal for the ranch hands. At the end of it, he announced he'd accepted an offer and that the ranch had been officially sold the previous day. Under the terms of the contract, he had one month to vacate the place. Though they were welcome to leave anytime, he promised they'd be paid through the next four weeks and said point-blank he couldn't guarantee any jobs with the new owner.
A long silence filled the bunkhouse kitchen. Miller was the first to break it. He shoved his dessert plate forward, stood, jammed his hat on his head and stomped out.
"Sorry, Sarah. I ain't too hungry anymore, either." Coburn also rose and the other two ranch hands followed, leaving Zach and Sarah alone.
"I'll clean up," Zach said peremptorily, "if you want to march out of here, too."
"When are you leaving?"
Her question was softly spoken without a trace of rancor. Maybe he should have expected that, knowing Sarah. She was hardly given to histrionics even under the most trying of circumstances. He found himself even more impressed because, although she'd only lived and worked at the Bar M a short time, this was just as hard on her than on the other hands who had worked here far longer. "I'm going back to Brazil the day after tomorrow when I'm sure all the final sale papers are signed. Coburn and the real-estate agent will take care of the transition."
She nodded and took a small bite of her meal, her expression thoughtful.
"What will you do?" he asked.
"Before coming here, I had planned to overwinter in a small town near Boulder, maybe Nederland or Estes Park, wherever I can find a job, a place to live…"
Zach picked up his coffee mug and sipped. "What about your stepfather?"
"What about him?"
"Are you still worried that he's out there, looking for you?"
"I don't know," she said and leaned back in her chair. "Perhaps it is foolish to worry. I do know I want to feel safe wherever I may end up. Like I'm really home, you know?"
"Would you consider coming to work for me in Brazil?" The question just popped out, yet when he heard it, he felt how perfect the idea was and how necessary it was that she say yes.
"Brazil?" she echoed. Her gaze narrowed as she studied him. "Doing what?"
"The same as what you've been doing here. Cooking, cleaning, creating a--" Home he almost said. "A place where our clients feel welcome. Even scientists on an Amazon adventure like their comfort and Manuelo and I have talked about hosting the odd tourist group once in a while. Our clients expect a good meal and a clean bed to sleep in. You'd certainly pretty the place up."
"And what would you expect, Zach?"
"I'm not going to lie to you, Sarah, and pretend I don't want to be with you. But we can set you up in your own quarters, too, let things develop at whatever pace you think is best."
"I thought you might say something like that. It sounds like what you think is best, not what I think is best." The sadness in her eyes spoke volumes.
Zach realized he was going to have to come up with something a whole lot better than a live-in maid. He put down the mug and took one of her hands, sandwiching it between both of his. "In return, I'm willing to marry you at the end of next year, if we both think it's the right thing to do."
Her expressive eyes widened in shock.
"I know, I know. I told you I'd never get married. But I find myself willing to make an exception in your case."
He said it with a lopsided grin, meaning it to be a compliment but she looked at him with something akin to disappointment in her eyes. "A year's time?"
"I need to be sure this is the best thing for both of us."
"And living in sin is the right thing?"
"Sarah, listen to me. I know this goes against everything you've been taught. But try and see it from my point of view. My parents thought they belonged together and look what happened to them. Their long and bitter divorce completely divided my family. Bram, my older brother, is on his second marriage. His first was a disaster. Can you blame me for wanting to be careful about how I go about this?"
"No, I cannot blame you. But neither can I change the person that I am."
"You should know that I've never asked a woman to live with me before. My personal freedom means too much to me. But I'm asking you, Sarah."
"Why?"
The million dollar question. "Why do you think?"
"Because you've come to care for me?"
"Something like that."
"I see." She was far from convinced.
"It's more than that. A much stronger feeling than that," he amended, unable to promise an enormous word like love. It was too binding and he needed to be absolutely, positively sure of his feelings before he made such a commitment. Her feelings, too. It wouldn't be fair to her, either, if she ended up in a place she didn't like or couldn't adjust to. Yet he could sense how much she expected him to make some grand gesture. He got down on one knee, hoping to show what he couldn't in all conscience say. "Will you come to Brazil with me, Sarah?"
"Would we live in the jungle?"
"My base camp is located in a small village on the river, where the natives live much like they do in the Community you've told me so much about. I think you'll appreciate the simplicity of life there as few can."
"Are there mountains in this place?"
"No, not like here," he said, squeezing her hand. "But it's green and full of life. So much life, Sarah. You won't believe it. Trees as tall as towers. Leaves the size of umbrellas. Animals like you can't imagine, birds with feathers as bright as the flowers you grow in your garden. But the gardens there, you'll be able to grow plants like you've never seen before."
"What if I don't like it, Zach? I've never lived anywhere but here, Wyoming and Montana and they are very much the same with the vast landscape and open sky."
"There are places like that all over the world. I'd love to show you if it turns out you don't like Brazil. Hell, I was thinking before I came her
e that it might be time to move on from Brazil and find a new adventure. We can do that, too, Sarah, if that's what you want."
"What about staying here?"
His grip tightened. "That's not possible. The Bar M is gone now."
He waited, unwilling to say anything that might worsen his chances. It was hard, humbling himself in this way, and he chafed at how much he wanted this, how much power she had over him. But it would be worth it if she agreed to go with him.
"Before I give you my answer about Brazil, I have a request to make, one I've been mulling over for some time."
A feeling of dread washed over him because he knew what she was going to say. "Sarah, the ranch is sold along with the house. Having me look around inside it is not going to change anything."
"I want you to tell me I did a good job."
"I don't need to look to tell you that, Sarah. You tackle everything with painstaking thoroughness. You make what's old look new again. I'm sure you did a terrific job."
"I want you to see for yourself. I won't believe the house will be ready for the new owners otherwise."
He didn't have the heart to tell her the new owners were bulldozing the old house to make room for a much larger, modern, highly-efficient log home. "The new owners will serve as my eyes and ears. They'll let me know if anything needs to be changed."
"I am willing to strike a bargain with you in order to convince you."
"Really?" Sarah's brand of bargaining usually had interesting results. "What kind of bargain?"
"My body. I will lie with you as David did with Bathsheba."
Zach almost fell flat on the floor. "You can't be serious."
"It is something you want, is it not?"
