Her heart was an aphrodisiac, urging him to draw closer, more deeply, into her life. Even now, with her in his arms, stirring his senses, her spirit was entwined around his heart. It was too soon, of course, to think of commitment. And they still had the issue of his departure, but he wanted more. He wanted Tori.
Tori’s right hand began stroking his chest. Then she pulled his shirttail out of his jeans and slid her hand under his shirt, flesh to flesh, and his skin shimmered with desire. He wanted her to touch him all over. He wanted to touch her.
When she made no resistance, he started on her shirt buttons and then got rid of her bra. The silken softness of her breasts almost had him losing control. He didn’t remember when a woman had so turned him on.
“More, Jon. Touch me more,” she whispered, shoving his shirt off him. He decided to help her by unzipping his jeans and shoving them down until his boots impeded his actions. “Damn, my boots,” he complained, and started to sit up, but Tori, with her arms wrapped around his chest, clung to him, and separating from her was more than he could do.
He felt his entire body bathed in her warmth, her scent, her loving. She wasn’t large enough to match him inch for inch, but the only part of him that lived was what she touched. He kissed her as if he would devour her, and she returned the favor. He could scarcely breathe, but that didn’t matter. He needed Tori. When they were finally naked, there was no way he could hold back.
For the first time, he felt the true sense of what being one with a woman meant. He’d made love before, but he’d never felt a part of his partner, a togetherness that would never end. A mixing of emotions that would bind them together. On the outer edge of his mind, he recognized fear. But it wasn’t enough to block the path he was rushing down.
When he felt her explode with passion and completion, he joined her with relief, with celebration, with completion. An incredible experience. Nirvana. True happiness.
He couldn’t bear to put any distance between them. He trailed his fingers down her back, cupped her hips, stroking her flesh, wishing he never had to release her. Though they had a lot to work out, his mind began planning a future, a time when he could hold her close whenever he wished. When her care and concern would be focused on him. When she would turn to him for support. They’d share everything.
And, eventually, they’d share their lives with children. He imagined Tori, her flat stomach rounded with his child. Of course, he’d wait until she was ready but—he panicked, terror rising in him.
They hadn’t used protection.
All the passion, the pleasure, was wiped away. He sat up abruptly.
TORI WASN’T that experienced. But she couldn’t imagine ever having sex with anyone but Jon ever again. She felt connected, loved, celebrated…and exhausted. She never wanted to move from his arms.
Then he jerked upright. “Are you on the pill?” he demanded.
She automatically answered, “No.” Then she stared at him, as if he’d been speaking a foreign language. Did he feel nothing? Hadn’t their lovemaking meant anything? Had he simply wanted to get lucky? She hoped she hid her sob as he got out of the narrow bed and grabbed his underwear to cover himself.
She lay there on the bare mattress with no sheet to cover her and wanted to scream in his face.
“We didn’t use protection!” he pointed out. “You could be pregnant. Is it the right time of the month? Do you know?”
She rolled off the mattress and grabbed the various articles of clothing she’d willingly shed not so long ago. Then, without answering, she went to the small, rough bathroom that opened off the back of the room.
“Tori? You didn’t answer me,” Jon called through the door.
With tears running down her cheeks, she dressed. Then she wiped her cheeks dry, drew a deep breath and entered the main part of the cabin again. Jon was dressed, pacing about the room.
“Tori—” he began.
She held up a hand to stop him. “I have no idea, and no, I’m not pregnant.”
“I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t—how do you know?”
She didn’t answer. The first man she’d shared her body with had been quite blunt about wanting her but not wanting anything permanent, like children. It broke her heart that Jon was the same way. Crossing to the potbellied stove, she took the old coffeepot, filled it with water and put it on the top burner to heat.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said coolly, not looking at him.
“But Tori—”
The front door opened and Russ Randall staggered into the cabin.
“RUSS!” TORI SCREAMED. She raced to his side, getting there even before Jon could catch him. “Russ, are you okay?”
“C-cold,” he muttered. Then he collapsed.
“Dear God, please—” she prayed, falling to her knees beside him. He was soaked to the skin and he looked as if he’d lost a lot of weight. His skin was pale. He obviously hadn’t taken care of himself as he’d grieved over Abby’s death. Tori began struggling with his sodden jacket.
Without a word, Jon held him up while Tori removed the jacket. He stopped her when she started on the shirt. “I’ll strip him and put him in his sleeping bag. You fix something hot for him to drink. Is there any of that stew left?”
“Yes, I saved some in case—for Russ. I’ll heat it up.” She hurried to do as Jon asked. She wanted to do the best for Russ right now, no matter how she felt about Dr. Jon Wilson.
“Do you think he’s okay?” All she cared about right now was Russ’s condition.
“I can’t tell yet. Wait until we get something hot inside him and I can examine him.”
She made a cup of instant coffee and brought it to Russ just as Jon got him in the sleeping bag. Jon laid him on the mattress, then helped him sit up to drink the coffee.
Tori wasn’t going to let Jon give him the coffee. She knelt beside the bed and held the cup to Russ’s lips. “Drink, Russ. It’s coffee. It’ll help you get warm.”
He clasped two hands around the mug and sipped. When he’d had several drinks, she left him to Jon’s attention and went back to the stove to see if the stew had heated up.
She returned several minutes later with a bowl of stew and a spoon. “Here’s some stew, Russ. Open up.”
“Wait, honey, and let me listen to his chest.” Jon had his stethoscope pressed to Russ’s chest. He frowned and Tori tensed.
“What’s wrong?”
“He doesn’t sound good. Labored breathing. I think he’s running a high fever,” Jon whispered. “Can you hold him and feed him at the same time? I need to get some medicine out of my bag.”
She did as he asked, but she kept her eyes on Jon also. Here was the part where Jon would earn his merit badge. She had brought him here for his medical skills, not his value as a lover. She was going to forget what had happened.
With that idea in mind, she spooned some of the stew into Russ’s mouth even as she watched Jon.
Russ didn’t even appear to be awake, but he swallowed the liquid. So she gave him another spoonful.
In the meantime, Jon took his temperature.
She looked at him, a silent demand for information.
“One hundred four.”
“Maybe part of it is the stew being hot.”
Jon shook his head. “I took it in his ear, not his mouth.” He pulled out his stethoscope and listened to Russ’s chest again. “I don’t like the way he sounds. I think he may have contracted pneumonia. I’ll give him something for his fever and some antibiotics. By the time we get him home, maybe he’ll be better.”
Tori stared at him. “He won’t be able to sit on a horse. How are we going to get him home?”
“Would Devil be able to hold both of us? I could try to hold him in the saddle.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ll figure out something. Can he have anything but the liquid from the stew?”
“Yes, but keep it in small pieces. We don’t want him choking.”
“He’s still shivering. Bring m
y sleeping bag over here.”
There were a couple of blankets she could use. It wouldn’t be as comfortable, but she wanted Russ’s fever broken.
After Jon had followed her orders, he stood looking at Russ. “I’m going to give him the aspirin now. Then I want you to stop feeding him for half an hour. We’ll try again then. He probably hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”
Tori did as he said. After all, he was the medical expert. But that left her with nothing to do. She certainly wasn’t going to talk to Jon about what had happened before Russ had arrived. She had no reading material and no television.
She walked around the room, unsure what to do.
“We never got around to eating our desserts,” Jon reminded her. He picked up one of the packages and tossed it to Tori. She put it back on the table. “I’m saving mine for Russ. He likes them.”
“Then we’ll share mine.”
“No, thank you.”
Jon stood there holding the package of cupcakes, staring at her. “I said the wrong thing.”
She ignored him.
“Tori, I was shocked that I would be so irresponsible. I shouldn’t have—it was great, but—”
She spun around and glared at him. “If you are talking about what happened before Russ came back, I do not want to discuss it ever again. We will forget it ever happened!” Then she turned her back to him.
“Honey, I know I didn’t handle—Tori, we can’t just forget about it. You may be pregnant!”
“Hush! Russ might hear you!” She grabbed her jacket off the drying rack and put it on.
“Where are you going?”
“Outside on the porch. I need some fresh air! And don’t come after me! I’ve had enough of you, Dr. Wilson!” She slammed the door behind her.
Once she was outside, alone in the dark, she let her defenses down. The tears that had been trying to claw their way out of her eyes did so now.
She’d never found sex too appealing. She’d thought that, as she was different from other Randalls in her looks, so too did she have differing opinions about sex. She knew boys liked it, but it seemed several of her girl cousins found it incredible. She never had.
Now, now, she finally discovered what everyone was talking about. She had found a man who made her feel loved, complete, perfect, and he just wanted to get lucky. All he wanted was to be sure he didn’t have to pay for his fun! Oh, no, never. If paying for his fun meant having to be responsible for her child, he didn’t have to worry.
She’d rather be a single mother, raising her child alone, than try to live with a man who didn’t want her, in Chicago of all places.
No, he didn’t have to worry. She didn’t think she was pregnant anyway, but whether she was or not, she wasn’t going to have anything to do with Jon Wilson.
If only she could stop crying.
JON DIDN’T GO OUTSIDE. He feared Tori would run off into the forest if he came out. But he had to talk to her. He had to explain everything. If he knew what everything was. He knew he should not have reacted so quickly, so alarmed, about no protection. He should have explained that his anger was with himself, not her.
He knew he was the responsible one. He was the one who’d said he wouldn’t be staying in Rawhide, that he had no intention of getting involved with anyone. He was returning to Chicago. His father and great-aunt were there, alone. His mother had died. She’d been selfish and demanding, but his father had loved her.
He’d also worked very hard to help Jon with medical school. He owed his father everything. He was going back to Chicago.
But if Tori had a child, he’d certainly marry her and take them both back to Chicago with him. Chicago was a good city for children. There were the beaches, all the parks, museums and theaters. He’d convince Tori. It wouldn’t be a disaster.
In fact, he’d be very happy in Chicago with Tori. The sex had been—incredible. And he wanted a family.
Yeah, everything would be all right. He’d talk to Tori and explain everything. Surely she knew he’d been stunned by the pleasure of their loving. She couldn’t think he hadn’t. And he was a responsible man. He’d even explain to her father.
Everything was going to be fine.
He fed Russ some more stew, because Tori hadn’t come back in.
Then he paced the floor, waiting for her.
Finally he opened the door. “Tori, aren’t you coming in? It’s cold out there.”
“Go away.”
“Russ was asking for you.” He figured the lie was justified, because she was going to get sick if she didn’t come back in. And then what would he do?
As she came into the cabin, he asked, “So you think we have enough food to stay here until Russ is better?”
“No. We’re leaving in the morning.”
Chapter Eight
Jon heard Tori when she first stirred the next morning. Though there was a hint of light in the east, it was at least half an hour before the sun would show itself.
Had she, like him, not slept well? He’d tried to get her to take his sleeping bag, leaving him with those blankets, but she had stiffly refused. They were still in a cold war, and he didn’t see any relief in sight. He just hoped she’d let him follow her off the mountain.
Even more he wished they had a way to contact the ranch. But before they’d made love, she’d explained that a cell phone wouldn’t work up in the mountains. He would have been thrilled to have a helicopter pick them up, but there was nowhere to land. So he was stuck with a ride back down. And somehow they had to get Russ down the mountain, too.
Tori had gone into the bathroom to dress. Now the door opened and she slipped back into the main room.
“Tori? What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” she whispered tersely. Then she picked up an ax, its blade gleaming in the limited light. Just for a second he wondered if he should take cover, then sanity returned. He watched her gather up some rope and then go outside.
He got out of his sleeping bag and grabbed his jeans. Whatever she was going to do, he needed to be there. That ax looked lethal.
He had tried to talk to her last night about staying another day, but she refused to discuss anything except to ask if it would hurt Russ if she could get him down the mountain flat on his back.
He wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.
He checked Russ again before he went out. He’d gotten up at two and at six to do the same thing and given him water and another pill. But it wasn’t time yet for his next one.
Outside, he couldn’t see Tori. Suddenly he heard the sound of metal meeting wood and he moved to the side of the porch. He could see movement near a stand of aspen. Tori was chopping at the base of a young aspen, almost twelve feet tall.
He waited until the ax met the wood again. Then he interrupted. “I’ll do that.”
She glared at him, but, to his surprise, she nodded and handed the ax to him. Then, while he chopped the tree down, she looked around the area. When the tree fell, giving him an urge to shout “Timber,” she pointed out another tree about the same size. “That one, too.”
“Okay. Er, how many are we going to cut?”
“Just two.”
When he moved to the second tree, she dragged the first one to a clear area next to the porch. When he brought the second one over, she’d tied a rope about six feet from the top. “Cut the small end off so it’s about ten feet long,” she ordered.
Jon watched as she zigzagged the rope from pole to pole, wrapping the rope around twice. When she’d finished, she had a rope frame. “I’m going to tie Russ and one of the mattresses to this frame, with it tied between two horses.”
“That’s brilliant, Tori.”
Just then, raindrops began falling. She grabbed the ax and got under the porch roof. “We need to get out of here as soon as possible. Do you have a T-shirt Russ can borrow?”
“Sure.”
“If you’ll put that on him, I’ll gather what we need to take with us. When will he need to
take medicine?”
“At ten.”
“Okay. Get him to the bathroom. Then make some instant coffee while I bring the horses up here to the porch. We’ll want to load Russ last.”
She hurried outside and he couldn’t help but grin. She sounded like a no-nonsense general this morning. But she was taking the most difficult work herself. He made the coffee first. Then he unzipped Russ’s sleeping bag and put a T-shirt on him. After that, he walked Russ to the bathroom. Then he sat him at the table with his coffee cup and a blanket around him.
He scattered the coals in the fireplace, rolled his sleeping bag and stowed the last of the supplies in the satchels that had carried them. He had one empty satchel, into which he put Russ’s boots. Then he stuffed their dirty clothes into a trash bag. He looked around to be sure everything was tidy.
Tori came in, solemn and intense. He wanted to kiss her, ask if everything was all right, but he didn’t dare get near her. Instead, he silently handed her a coffee mug.
“The cookies are—”
“I have them here, but I didn’t know if you wanted any now.”
“Yes. Russ, how are you doing?”
“Fine,” he mumbled, not raising his head.
“Take some cookies, but be sure to chew them. There are raisins and pecans in them. We don’t want you to choke.”
She picked up the neatly folded tarp. “Thank you for packing. Can you come help me saddle up?”
He slid into his warm coat, grateful they’d dried the outerwear last night. Outside, he threw the saddle on Snowflake and then Devil, Tori securing them on the horses. He put the pack carrier on Snoopy. “What do we do about Russ’s horse?”
“Go ahead and put Russ’s saddle on him. He’s coming, too, of course.” After she secured the bridle on Russ’s horse, she tied the reins together and looped them over the saddle horn. “Come hold him while I load him.”
“Won’t he stay, like the others?”
“Not when the reins aren’t on the ground, so don’t let go.”
Randall Honor Page 8
