by Amelia Autin
Chapter 12
Rennie woke, the heavy weight of a man’s arm across her waist anchoring her in place. For one minute she was disoriented, then she remembered. She was in Gideon’s bed. She smiled drowsily to herself, luxuriating in the sensual pleasure of waking in the arms of her husband.
The shadowed room was early-morning cold, but she was warm under the covers, warm from the body heat exuded by the man curved against her back. Her gaze wandered around the part of Gideon’s bedroom she could see without shifting position.
A man lived in this room. Of that there was no doubt. The furniture was austere, utilitarian, built to take the rough usage of a man with little time for anything but the bare necessities. Certainly no woman had had a hand in decorating this room, which was a startling departure from the rest of the sprawling ranch house. Everything looked fairly new, even the drab brown-and-tan drapes, and she surmised that he’d replaced all the furnishings in the room after Johanna’s death.
Feeling a twinge in her hip from lying in one position for so long, Rennie stretched a little, careful not to wake Gideon. Small aches, wonderful aches, reminded her of last night.
They’d made love twice: the first time blazingly fast, a hungry wildfire raging out of control, consuming everything; the second time tormentingly slow, a phoenix rising from the still-warm ashes of their spent passion to rekindle the flames. Both times he’d made sure she was with him every step of the way, refusing to take his own pleasure until she was poised on the brink with him, sobbing for release. And both times their climaxes had been shattering.
“That’s a Mona Lisa smile if I ever saw one.”
Rennie felt as well as heard the rumble of Gideon’s voice. She turned in his arms and snuggled up to him, her fingers tracing a random pattern on the strong muscles of his chest. “Good morning.”
“Yeah.” He smiled in satisfied agreement. “Yeah, it is.” His hand journeyed possessively down her spine, over her hip, and back up to cup one rosy-tipped breast. He caressed it almost absently, rubbing his thumb over the nipple until it beaded, his eyes drifting shut. “What time is it?”
“Early.” Rennie’s heart began the all-too-familiar pounding associated with Gideon’s touch, and she couldn’t breathe. Would he always have this effect on her? God, she hoped so.
“How do you feel this morning?”
Correctly interpreting this husbandly question, she answered by hooking one leg over his and rubbing her inner thigh up and down his hip. She butterfly-kissed his raspy chin and purred, “I feel great.”
“Oh, yeah? Me, too.”
He slid his thigh between hers as their mouths met in a lazy, I’ve-got-all-morning kiss. His hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer, and she could feel his arousal, hard and throbbing, pressing against her stomach.
“What are you doing?” a childish voice asked.
They both froze, the mood abruptly destroyed by the innocently curious question. Rennie grabbed for the sheet, grateful when she discovered that it still covered them both. She twisted around as best she could, hampered by the sheet and by Gideon’s arms and legs, which were tangled up with hers.
Trina was standing in the doorway in her nightgown, her hand on the doorknob. Rennie wondered how long she had been there, and felt her face turn a fiery red. Next to her Gideon began shaking with silent laughter.
“Stop that,” she hissed at him. When he continued to laugh, she elbowed him in the stomach, hard.
He gave a very satisfying “ooph,” then wrapped his arms tightly around Rennie to prevent her from inflicting further damage. He ducked his head and kissed her quickly, then looked over at his daughter.
“What are you doing up so early, sweetheart?”
“Nicki woke me up.”
The grin left his face. His gaze sought Rennie’s, and she stared back at him, then nodded confirmation of the thought that had sprung immediately to both their minds. Nicki had done this deliberately.
Gideon’s lips twisted ruefully, then his gaze moved back to the doorway. “This is private, Trina. Close the door and go on back to your room. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Okay.” The cheerful disinterest in her voice indicated to Rennie that Trina hadn’t really seen or heard much of what had been going on between the two of them before her interruption. At least that was one fewer thing to worry about.
When the door closed, Rennie dragged the sheet off Gideon and wrapped it around herself sarong-style, stalked to the door and clicked the lock into place. Then she flicked on the overhead light and turned around to confront her husband.
He lay on his side, one arm propping up his head, completely at ease with his nakedness. For an instant she let herself be distracted. Just as she’d imagined the first night of their honeymoon, his tanned body was dusted all over with sun-kissed golden brown hair, especially his chest. She’d touched him everywhere, had felt the softness of that hair overlying the iron muscles beneath it, but she’d never seen him naked like this. He was truly magnificent, and obviously aroused.
He smiled an invitation and patted the bed. Rennie blinked, then stared at him in disbelief.
“You must be crazy if you think I can just pick up where we left off.”
“Why not? The door’s locked, Trina’s gone back to her room, and the sun’s not even up. We have time.”
Rennie snorted and gave him a look that said, “Men!” She grabbed the oversize L.A. Lakers T-shirt she wore as a nightgown off the floor and pulled it over her head, oblivious to the fact that it was inside out. Muttering to herself all the while and irrationally getting worked up by the second, she shimmied out of the sheet, bunched it up and threw it at Gideon’s head. He fended it off easily and laughed.
Frustrated, she picked up his robe and threw it at him, too. He dodged it, leapt off the bed and pounced on her. For a big man, he could move fast when he wanted to. He slung her over his shoulder and carried her back to bed, ignoring her struggles for freedom.
“What are you doing? Put me down!”
He complied, dropping her on the mattress. She bounced and tried to scramble away but he was too quick for her. He landed on top of her, catching most of his weight on his forearms. He didn’t do anything else—he didn’t have to. She was effectively pinned to the bed by the long, muscled length of him.
“What are you so worked up about?”
She pushed futilely against him. “Lots of things.”
“Name one.”
“Get off me and I’ll tell you.”
“Uh-uh. Tell me first.”
Rennie gave up trying to dislodge him. It was impossible. And besides, even though she was annoyed and frustrated, it had more to do with the situation and the lost mood than with him.
“Why didn’t you lock the door last night?”
“I didn’t think of it—it’s been a long time since I’ve had to.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “And I was distracted.” He kissed her, a tantalizingly brief kiss. “I’ll remember next time.”
Her gaze traveled from his mouth to his eyes. “I...it was embarrassing.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the end of the world. I’ve been in more embarrassing situations than this. At least we were both decent.” He chuckled softly. “I remember one morning, a few months after Trina was born, when Nicki walked in on Jo and me, and we were—” He broke off abruptly, his lighthearted expression draining away as if it suddenly occurred to him that it wasn’t quite right to talk intimately about his first wife with his second.
“Sorry.” He started to roll away from Rennie, but she wasn’t going to let that be the end of it. Not this time. She rolled with him, ending up draped across his chest. She propped herself up.
“Don’t do this, Gideon. Please. Not again.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t cut off your memories of Johanna, especially the good ones. I’ve told you before, you don’t have to do that for me. She was a big part of your life and neither of us can pre
tend she wasn’t. If I’m going to share your future, I need to share your past, too.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Don’t shut me out.”
He hesitated, then gently closed his arms around her. “I don’t mean to. It’s just...you make me forget...and then I remember, and I...oh, hell. I’m not saying this very well.”
“You’re doing all right. Don’t stop.” The male scent that was uniquely Gideon filled her nostrils, and she closed her eyes in frank enjoyment.
His big hand tangled in the curls behind her ear, alternately tugging and stroking. “I never thought things would turn out like this. It was only supposed to be a business arrangement.”
“I know. You told me when we first met.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I never expected anyone like you. How could I? There isn’t anyone like you. And I never expected to be hap—” He stopped in midsentence. Rennie finished it for him.
“Happy.” She raised her head, her face softly glowing as she dared to hope. “You never expected to be happy.” Her eyes were shining. “Are you, Gideon? Do I make you happy?”
He stared at her, somber and reflective, his eyes puckered at the corners as he considered the question.
“Yeah. You do,” he said finally, a strange, wondering expression on his face. “I never thought I’d say that to a woman again, but it’s true.”
Her heart overflowing, she had to tell him something of what she felt. “You make me happy, too.”
“Do I?” Doubt crept in to replace the wonder. “With everything that’s happened, how can you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” She touched a finger to his lips, tracing their shape. “When you smile at me, when you treat me as your wife, when you trust me with your children—those are the things that make me happy.”
“Doesn’t seem like much to me.” He remained unconvinced.
“And...there’s the way you touch me.”
“You mean like this?” His hands slid down her body, making her shiver deliciously.
“You must know.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she faced him honestly. “I didn’t know it could be like that. I didn’t know I could be like that. I wanted to tell you that first night, but then you got the phone call about Nicki, and, well, there really hasn’t been an opportunity since.”
“So tell me now.” His voice was like warm honey, deliberately seductive. His work-callused hand slid under the hem of her T-shirt and caressed the soft curves of her bare bottom. It should have felt rough against her delicate skin, but it didn’t. It felt sinfully good. “Tell me,” he repeated.
Rennie struggled to remember what the question was. “You’re already too cocky as it is.”
He grinned his best big-bad-wolf grin. “Cocky? You think so? Why don’t you check for sure?”
She caught the double meaning immediately. “Oh, you...” She cuffed him playfully on the arm, her fist glancing off the eagle decorating it.
His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. “Hey, you know what?”
“What?”
“I never got to see your tattoo.” He rolled her over unexpectedly and wedged his powerful body between her legs. “Where is it?”
“Hah! I’ll never tell.”
“Then I’ll just have to search for it,” he teased, sliding both hands under her T-shirt. “More fun that way, anyway.”
Blushing furiously, Rennie opened her mouth to tell him, when they both heard a child’s sudden, frightened wail.
“That’s Andrew.” Gideon was off the bed in a flash, grabbing his robe and throwing it on. Rennie beat him to the door and unlocked it.
“I’ll get him. This happened yesterday morning, too.” She didn’t wait for his assent. She ran down the hall, opened the door to Andrew’s room and switched on the light.
The little boy lay hunched facedown in the middle of his bed, sobbing brokenheartedly. Rennie picked him up and cradled him in her arms, gently pressing his tousled head against her shoulder. He clung to her, tears soaking her T-shirt.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” She stroked his head reassuringly and rocked him back and forth.
“Emmy, Emmy.” He caught his breath on a sob. “I want Emmy.”
“Aunt Emily’s not here, sweetie, remember? But I’m here.” She turned and saw Gideon standing in the doorway. “And Daddy’s here. See?” She held the little boy so that he could see Gideon.
Andrew buried his face against her neck as fresh sobs broke from him. “I want Emmy.”
“Let me take him.”
Reluctantly she surrendered him to Gideon. “Shh,” he said to Andrew, his voice calm and soothing. “It’s okay.” He began walking up and down the room with his son, his hand rubbing concentric circles on Andrew’s back. Eventually the little boy quieted, and his arms crept around his father’s neck.
In an undertone, Rennie said, “He woke up like this yesterday morning, and I was terrified. I couldn’t find anything wrong and I didn’t know what to do, except what you’re doing now. I think maybe it’s the strange room that frightens him. He’s not used to it.”
“But it’s always been his room.”
“How long has it been since he lived in this house?” she reminded him. “Even a few months is a long time for a child his age.”
Pain flashed across Gideon’s face, and Rennie’s heart ached for him. It wasn’t by Gideon’s choice that Andrew had been denied the chance to live in his own home, to recognize his own bedroom.
Movement in the doorway to Andrew’s room made Rennie turn her head. Trina and Nicki both stood there.
“My goodness,” Rennie said with forced cheerfulness. “Everybody’s awake now. Who’s ready for breakfast?”
“Me. I am,” said Trina. “I’m starved.”
Andrew’s head lifted from Gideon’s shoulder and Rennie turned to look at him. “Hey, pardner. Are you ready for breakfast, too?” He nodded slowly. “What would you like?”
He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with a little fist, then said, “Waffos.”
“Yeah, waffles!” Trina chimed in.
Rennie looked at Nicki. “Waffles?”
Nicki glanced at her father and nodded reluctantly.
“Then waffles it is.”
* * *
That day set the pattern for the ones to come. Rennie made breakfast in the large, airy kitchen, with Trina’s dubious help, while Gideon, already dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, drank his morning coffee at the table and read out loud articles from the local weekly newspaper. In one corner Andrew played noisily with two pot lids and a ladle. And Nicki fed the cats in another corner, beside the stove.
Rennie smiled to herself at the domestic scene they all made, and sent up a small prayer that things could stay this way, at least for a while. They’d all been through enough emotional turmoil to last them a long time.
She’d found a waffle recipe in one of several cookbooks stacked beside the stove and hoped it would turn out okay. As she folded beaten egg whites into her waffle batter according to the recipe, she noted that whoever had planned this kitchen had done a good job of taking advantage of natural light. The window over the sink faced east, the windows by the large kitchen table, south. Even though the sun wasn’t up yet, fingers of early-morning light found their way in. It reminded her of her grandmother’s kitchen in the homestead on the Circle F when she was growing up. And she remembered her tiny grandmother standing in that kitchen, teaching her the basics of cooking in much the same way she was now teaching Trina.
Her smile deepened. She poured batter into the big four-square waffle iron, closed the lid, checked the recipe again and set the timer. As she got down plates from the cabinet she began to hum to herself.
Gideon glanced up from the newspaper. “What song is that? It sounds familiar.”
“It’s an old hymn my grandmother used to sing to me, ‘Be Thou My Vision.’ I’ve always loved it.”
She resumed her hum
ming, and from the corner Nicki looked up, an arrested expression on her face. Neither Rennie nor Gideon noticed.
The waffles turned out perfectly, to Rennie’s relief, and after breakfast, Nicki and Trina cleared the table, stacking the dishes on the counter while Rennie washed syrup from Andrew’s hands, face and hair. She smiled to herself. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but there was syrup on his eyelashes, too.
“All clean,” she said finally, dropping a quick kiss on his baby mouth. She set him back on the floor in the corner, where he resumed his drum solo. She turned around to see Gideon retrieving his Stetson from a nail by the door, where he’d hung it this morning when he came in from doing his chores.
“I’ve got a horse I have to check on in the barn,” he said, “and then I need to see a man in Carter’s Junction. I can take the girls with me this morning and drop them at school to save you a trip.” Both girls brightened at that. “But we’ll have to leave by seven.”
Rennie glanced at the clock on the stove. “That gives Nicki and Trina a half hour to get ready for school. Shouldn’t be a problem. I can finish up here, and I’ll make sure they’re outside and waiting for you by the time you’re ready to go.”
“Okay.” He started for the door, then he remembered something and he turned around. “I almost forgot. When did you want to go to Sheridan to do your shopping?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to wait for the weekend, but the timing’s kind of tricky. According to Emily, Andrew takes a two-hour nap every day right after lunch, and someone has to pick the girls up when school lets out at three, so no afternoon during the week is good. How long will your meeting take this morning?”
“Not more than a couple of hours. I should be back by ten.”
Rennie considered things, then nodded. “That sounds good. Andrew and I will be waiting for you.”
“All right.” He stood there a moment, obviously undecided about something, then he made up his mind. Ignoring the interested gazes of his daughters, he crossed the kitchen, leaned down and kissed her, taking his time about it.
