To Wed and Protect

by Carla Cassidy

  “But I believe in you,” she said softly.

  He turned to look at her, his eyes deep pools of smoldering flames…flames that threatened to instantly consume her.

  He didn’t say a word, but rather took her in his arms and captured her lips in a hot, hungry kiss. Just that quickly, they were out of control.

  From the moment he’d fed her those strawberries on the blanket in the pasture, in the back of Abby’s mind she’d yearned to make love with him once again.

  And she’d known it had been on his mind, as well. She’d seen the hunger in his eyes when he gazed at her, felt the electricity flowing from him when their hands brushed or their shoulders bumped.

  In the instant their lips met, any and all reasons they shouldn’t make love again fled Abby’s mind. All she knew, all she could comprehend was the hunger for his touch, her need for his body against hers.

  He deepened the kiss, his tongue touching hers as his hands tangled in her hair. As he pressed her closer she could feel his heartbeat banging, racing in rhythm with her own. And she could feel his obvious arousal.

  “Abby, sweet Abby,” he murmured as his lips left hers and trailed down the side of her jaw to the sensitive skin just below her earlobe.

  He gently tugged her hair, tilting her head back to give him better access to the hollow of her throat.

  His mouth nipped and kissed, shooting fire through her, filling her with a heat she knew only he could stanch. He raised his head to look at her, to see the assent in her eyes, then he stood and scooped her into his arms and carried her into her bedroom.

  Johnna had arrived early enough that morning that Abby hadn’t had an opportunity to make the beds. Luke deposited her gently in the middle of the jumbled sheets, then stepped back and pulled his T-shirt over his head.

  As Luke undressed, Abby did the same, driven by a fever of need, of want. She wanted to be naked with him, for him. She wanted immediate skin-to-skin contact.

  When he joined her on the bed, she moaned in pleasure as his warm flesh made contact with hers and she was surrounded by that woodsy, spicy scent that always drove her half-wild.

  He gathered her into his arms, the hairs on his chest teasing her nipples, the length of his legs wrapping around hers. Once again his mouth sought hers in a kiss of fiery intensity.

  When the kiss ended, his eyes bore into hers. “I feel as if I’ve been on fire for months…years…and the only thing that can put the fire out is you.”

  “I’ve felt the same way,” she replied, her voice husky to her own ears. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer for another kiss, lost in splendid sensual pleasure, lost to everything but the magic of Luke.

  And it was magic…every stroke of his hands, each touch of his lips created an enchantment that momentarily swept away all the cares of the world, banished all fear and uncertainty.

  Time seemed to stand still as he stroked the length of her body in slow, languid, torturously wonderful caresses. His mouth found every erogenous zone, lingering here and there to bring her the most exquisite pleasure.

  He took her to the peak over and over again, but held back giving her the ultimate release. Over and over again he left her trembling with need, until finally he paused to put on a condom, then entered her.

  Slowly, he moved deep within her, then pulled back slightly, hot friction sending Abby again to the peak of pleasure. Again and again Luke repeated the give and take, stepping up the rhythm as his breaths became short and shallow.

  She felt Luke’s rising tension, felt his muscles growing more taut, his body filled with immense heat that only served to enflame Abby.

  As Luke cried out her name and stiffened against her, she tumbled over the edge, every nerve ending in her body tingling in splendid delight as she gasped breathlessly.

  For long minutes afterward they lay in one another’s arms, in an embrace so close Abby could feel Luke’s heartbeat slowly resuming a normal rhythm.

  “I’m sorry Johnna upset you,” Abby finally said as she lay with her head on his chest.

  He stroked a hand down her hair and drew a deep sigh. “She upset me because she reminded me that I’m probably an alcoholic.”

  Abby raised her head and looked at him. Despite the sunshine pouring into the room, his eyes were dark with more than a hint of self-loathing. “But Luke, you haven’t drunk the whole time I’ve known you.”

  “I’m a recovering alcoholic, and Johnna’s words just reminded me that I’ll always be only one drink away from failure.”

  Abby placed a hand on his jaw. “But until you take that drink, you are a success. And I know you’re brave enough, smart enough to stay strong.”

  He grinned, the darkness in his eyes lifting. “You are something else, Mrs. Abigail Delaney. I think in the next couple of days I’m going to build you the most beautiful kitchen cabinets in the entire state of Arizona.”

  “Luke, you don’t have to do that,” she protested.

  He smiled again. “I know I don’t, but I want to.”

  “I can pay you for your work,” she said. “Now that Justin knows where I’m at, there’s no reason for me to not access my trust fund.”

  “I don’t want your money,” he replied. “It will be enough for me to know that when I’m in Nashville, you and the kids will be living in a place that’s nice.” He pulled her to his chest and stroked her hair. “But for the moment I just want to stay here with you in my arms.”

  When I’m in Nashville. His words swirled around in her head, filling her with a profound sadness. She knew she shouldn’t be sad. She’d gone into this arrangement with her eyes wide open.

  Luke had never promised to love her, to set aside his dreams of singing for her and the children. He’d never promised to spend the rest of his life with her. He was here only until the custody battle was decided.

  Two weeks. Johnna had said the trial was set for two weeks. There was both pleasure and pain in the short waiting period. She was glad the custody issue would be over, that she didn’t have to wait an eternity to find out if she would be able to raise the children she loved.

  Two weeks. It wasn’t enough time for her to spend with Luke. She wanted more. She was in love with Luke and she wanted a lifetime with him.

  She wouldn’t make love to him again, knew that to do so would just make it that much more difficult when the time came to tell him goodbye. And she would have to tell him goodbye.

  In six and a half months he would leave Inferno, but in two weeks he would leave her. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed against a sudden burning of tears.

  She wasn’t sure what was worse—the possibility that in two weeks she would lose the children or the absolute certainty that in two weeks she would lose Luke.

  “I really hate to leave you and the kids,” Luke said as he and Abby stood on the front porch. The sun was dying in the west, splashing the horizon with vivid colors.

  “But you promised you’d do this,” Abby replied.

  “We’ll be okay, Luke. Justin hasn’t shown hide nor hair around here. There’s no reason to believe he’ll suddenly make an appearance.”

  “I know, but I still don’t like it.” Luke sighed, his gaze lingering on Abby. “I wish I hadn’t promised Jim Grogin that I’d sing tonight.” He wondered if there would come a day when he tired of looking at her, when the scent of her didn’t stir him to distraction.

  “But you did promise.” She reached up and straightened his collar, then brushed a piece of lint from the navy shirt he wore. “This Jim Grogin is a friend of yours?”

  “He was a peer of my father’s. When I was thirteen, he talked my father into letting me work a couple hours a day at his ranch. I don’t think he really needed me, but I think he knew I needed a couple hours a day to escape from my old man.”

  Once again Luke directed his gaze away from her and toward the quickly setting sun. “He’s a good man, and those hours I spent on his ranch were good ones.”

  It was a v
ast understatement. Jim was quick to praise the young Luke, and it was Jim who had taught Luke a love of wood and the basic elements of woodworking.

  “Anyway, the six months I worked for him were the happiest months of my adolescence.”

  Abby tilted her head slightly and looked at him curiously. “Why only six months?”

  “My father refused to let me work for him any longer than that. I think my old man saw that I was developing some pride and some independence, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.”

  “Then it’s important that you go. And if you don’t leave now you’ll be late.” She smiled at him. “I swear we’ll be fine here until you get home.”

  “I’ve got my key, so lock up tight and don’t open the door for anybody. If you hear anything odd, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call Sheriff Broder. He can be out here in minutes.”

  “Would you get out of here?” She laughed and gave him a nudge to move him off the porch.

  “I’ll be home by midnight,” he said as he walked backward toward his truck.

  “I’m sure the kids and I will be asleep, but Peaches will greet you with her puppy enthusiasm.”

  Luke grinned, waved, then got into his truck. On Wednesday afternoon when the kids had gotten out of school, Luke had taken Abby and the kids to a dog breeder he knew. There they had discovered Peaches, an eight-week-old golden retriever who had greeted Jessica and Jason as if they were long-lost best friends.

  Peaches had come home with them, along with a bag of dog food, water and food dish and a large cage for housebreaking and nighttime sleeping.

  When the two kids had fought over who got Peaches in their bedroom for the night, it was decided that Peaches’ cage would stay in the living room with Luke.

  Three days that week, Abby had gone with Luke to the ranch so he could get his twenty-five hours for the week in. She spent the hours sitting at a picnic table in the shade, watching the guests and reading a book.

  However, it wasn’t the dog or working at the family ranch that was on Luke’s mind as he drove toward the Honky Tonk. He was nervous about leaving Abby alone.

  There was absolutely no reason for him to be nervous. Justin had given no indication that he intended to do anything but battle them in a court of law, so there was really no reason to be worried.

  It felt strange to be worried about somebody else. Luke had spent all his life until this point not worrying about anyone. But Abby pulled out of him feelings he’d never felt before.

  Still, that certainly didn’t change his plans for himself. He was going to be somebody, become somebody important. In six and a half months, he’d be gone from here, on his way to his destiny.

  He parked his truck in the lot in front of the Honky Tonk. For a moment he sat and stared at the gawdy neon sign, the dusty, smoke-filled curtains that hung in the window. He hoped this was one of the last dives he’d ever have to work, that when he got to Nashville he’d be working better places.

  He also knew this place was one of his greatest temptations. The moment he walked through the doors, he’d smell the booze in the air, get that old sweet yearning as each and every bottle in the place sang a siren song.

  He thought of Abby’s words, of her assurance that he was strong enough to make good choices. Funny, but he wanted to make good choices for her. He wanted to be a better man…for her. Sighing, he got out of the truck, slightly disturbed by thoughts of Abby.

  Although it was only a few minutes before nine, the place was already jumping. As Luke grabbed his guitar from the back of his truck and headed toward the front door, music drifted out along with the sounds of raucous laughter and the clinking of beer bottles.

  Luke entered the large, dimly lit bar and was greeted by half a dozen of the regular customers. He returned their greetings as he wove his way through the crowd toward the tiny stage.

  The guest of honor, Jim Grogin, was seated with his wife and grown children at the table just in front of the stage. He stood as he saw Luke approach. “Luke, I’m so glad you could make it,” he said as he slapped Luke on the back. “When I heard that you’d gone and gotten yourself married, I wasn’t sure you’d be here at all.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Luke replied, and smiled warmly at the gray-haired man. He nodded to Jim’s wife, Sadie, and to their two sons and their wives.

  “Looks like you’ve got the whole gang here.”

  Jim nodded. “All except the grandbabies.” His pale blue eyes twinkled merrily. “Can’t have my sweet grandbabies in a dive like this.”

  “And the only way he got me into this dive is by promising me I would get to hear you sing,” Sadie said.

  “Let me buy you a drink, son,” Jim said, and motioned for the waitress. “What will it be?” he asked.

  “As I recall, you used to be a Scotch man.”

  “Used to be, but now I’m strictly a soda man. I’ll take a ginger ale,” he told the cute little waitress.

  “So, tell me about the woman who finally managed to capture your heart,” Jim said. “I haven’t seen her, but I heard through the grapevine that she’s quite a looker with long dark hair and blue eyes.”

  “Green,” Luke corrected. “Her eyes are green.” He smiled as he thought of those lovely green eyes. He’d learned to watch her eyes, knowing that her moods and feelings would be reflected there. She would make a terrible poker player—her eyes would never allow her to bluff.

  “And I understand she’s got a couple of children,” Jim continued. “I got a feeling she couldn’t have picked a better stepdad for her babies. You learned firsthand about bad fathers. I got a feeling you’re going to be a great one.”

  His words filled Luke with a crazy kind of guilt. He wanted to confess to Jim that fatherhood wasn’t part of the deal, that the whole marriage thing was merely temporary. Instead he excused himself, telling them he needed to get set up and ready to perform.

  Setting up required little more than positioning the microphone and a chair in place on the stage. He’d just finished doing that when the waitress came with his drink. “Just put it there on the edge of the stage,” he said, then did a quick tune-up of his guitar.

  It was nearly ten when Luke began his first set. He sang for twenty minutes, singing songs requested by people who yelled out their favorites.

  He set his guitar aside, downed his soda and grinned at the waitress, who instantly replaced it with a fresh one. He took a ten-minute break, visiting with people who had become acquaintances over the years, then he began another set that included a rousing version of “Happy Birthday” for the guest of honor.

  He was into his third set when he noticed the stranger watching him intently from the back of the room. Although Abby had never given him a physical description of Justin Cahill, Luke instantly recognized him. Jason and Jessica had the dark eyes of their father and the same cheekbones and slender face.

  The man had the shoulders of a steroid freak, thick and bulging, made more apparent by the tank top he wore. There was a challenging glint in his dark eyes as he held Luke’s gaze from across the room.

  Luke was unsurprised when he finished the set and Justin Cahill stood at the foot of the stage. “Thought it was time I introduced myself to you. I’m Justin Cahill.” He held his hand out for a shake.

  Luke looked at his hand, the hand that Abby believed had killed her sister, and he deliberately shoved his own hands deep into his pockets.

  Justin’s eyes flared with the heat of suppressed rage. “So that’s the way it is,” he said tightly.

  “It would appear that’s the way it is,” Luke replied.

  Justin took a step toward him, invading Luke’s personal space, but Luke didn’t give the man the satisfaction of stepping back. “I just thought I’d stop by and let you know that there is no way in hell you’re getting my kids. They belong to me.”

  Not “with me” but rather “to me.” A definite indication that the man had no right to have his children. “We’ll just have to wait an
d see about that, won’t we?” Luke replied, refusing to rise to the man’s baiting tone.

  “I’m just giving you a friendly heads-up. I don’t intend to lose this fight.” With those final words Justin spun on his heels and headed for the exit.

  Luke grabbed his soda and downed it, feeling as if he needed to wash a very bad taste out of his mouth. He set the empty glass down and headed for the back office of the tavern, where he knew there was a telephone.

  “Toby, can I use the phone?” he asked the owner of the Honky Tonk, who sat at his desk going over paperwork.

  “Help yourself.” Toby waved toward the phone on the corner of the desk, not taking his gaze from his work.

  Luke grabbed the receiver and quickly dialed. “Abby,” he said when he heard her voice at the other end of the line. “Justin was just in here and just left. That means he knows you and the kids are there alone. He probably won’t bother you, but I’m leaving here now and should be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll keep the doors locked until I hear your voice,” Abby said.

  “Trouble?” Toby asked.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” Luke replied. “Would you do me a favor and lock up my guitar? I’m just going to sneak out the back door.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Toby replied.

  Luke started out of the office, but hesitated in the doorway, a wave of dizziness overtaking him. He shook his head, thinking he must have moved too fast, then headed out the back door.

  He stepped into the night air, and the ground seemed to be moving, twisting and undulating beneath his feet. He slammed his back against the building and closed his eyes, drawing deep breaths and fighting against the blackness he sensed descending.

  His drink. Justin must have put something in his drink. He shook his head again and took several steps forward. The blackness reached out, insidiously pulling Luke in.

  Abby, his mind cried. It was his last conscious thought.