by Cara North
"Why then?” he asked.
"Because I needed her. I spent all that time going to her rescue, and when I needed her most ... she wouldn't come to me. I had to go see a psychiatrist. Heath.” This was it. The last thing she had to tell him. “I was going to come back a month after I was there. I missed you, and I was miserable. Then, I fell down the stairs at the dorm, slipped on a stupid wrapper. I didn't think anything of it, but then I started bleeding, and it wasn't time, so I went to the doctor."
"Chance?” He rolled over and sat up. His eyes were fierce, and she feared his reaction.
"I had a miscarriage. I know I should have called or something, but you never called me or anything. You paid the doctor bill but didn't contact me even to cuss me out. I thought..."
"Jesus Christ, Chance!” Heath grabbed her arms and shook her. “It was a bill. It didn't say where you were or what had happened. You lost a child, our child? Son of a bitch!” And he was up on his feet in a flash.
"You're mad. I understand,” she started.
"Mad? Mad? I'm not mad, I'm ... I'm fuckin’ falling apart here. I find out a year later that I lost a child? Jesus! God, what did I do to deserve this?” And then he was on his knees. “A baby."
His head shook, and she wasn't sure what to do. Tears were already slipping down her cheeks. She had no idea he was going to be this devastated.
"Heath.” She crawled over to him. “I'm so sorry."
"God, Chance. You should have called me.” Then, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. “I'm so sorry you went through that alone. I'm sorry I wasn't what you needed."
"Don't say that! You are what I needed, what I need!” This was her hole. She dug it herself. She lied and tricked him, and she manipulated him just like she had watched her mother do to men who passed in and out of their lives. He didn't deserve that. He damn sure didn't deserve to hear about her miscarriage a year later. “I was a fool not to tell you. I was afraid that if you knew who I was, about the abortion, my mother ... you can have anyone."
"Anyone but you.” When he pulled back, she watched a tear stream down his cheek. He ignored it and swallowed hard. She didn't know what to do. It was like watching a mountain crumble. To know she had done that to him...
"Heath. You have to forgive me. I'm begging you,” she said between sobs. “Please."
"Come on. Let's go home.” He sniffed and stood. He pulled her to her feet and then guided them both back to the truck. “His name?"
"Who's name?” She sobbed as she crawled into the truck, Heath's hands guiding her.
"Chance.” It was a warning.
"Roy Booker.” She wiped at her face and avoided her reflection in the rearview mirror. She started to slide across to the passenger side, but his hand on her thigh stopped her.
"Just ... sit here.” And she did. They drove back to the house in silence. More silence greeted them as they walked into the kitchen. Only the rattle of his keys on the countertop and the flicking of light switches traveled on the air.
"Man, I'm beat.” He stretched and headed to the refrigerator.
She stared at his large broad back. She wasn't sure what to do really. She had no idea where she stood in his life at that moment, but she was standing there in his kitchen. “Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, but..."
"I'll make something.” The world lifted off of her shoulders, and the relief of doing something familiar, something she was good at, eased the mood. She walked over and nudged him out of her way, so she could see what he had to work with. She frowned, not a lot. “Hmmm, I can make steak and eggs. You like that."
"You don't have to.” She detected the hopeful tone in his voice.
"Go take a shower and relax. I'll be done in no time.” She patted him on his chest. The touch was as soothing to her as it seemed to be for him. His frown lifted, and his shoulders relaxed. He dealt with a lot in the last couple days. “Go on."
"Thank you.” He grabbed her hand and held it there over his heart. The flood of emotions racked her through and through. Could he possibly still love her? Even after all he now knew? So much emotion passed between them in one instant it was hard to tell.
He let go and headed off to the bedroom. She grabbed the defrosted steak and carton of eggs and sat them on the counter. When she knew he was out of sight and hearing distance, she sank against the cold hard refrigerator door and held herself. “You are not going to screw this up again, girl. That man was the only good thing you ever had, and you ruined him, but that was then."
She stood upright, ran a paper towel under the water faucet, and wiped her face. There was no makeup left. She looked at her reflection in the window above the sink. She could see the barn, the fields, and the great Montana sky. Farther away she could see the porch light on at Jack's house. To the right about the same distance she could see a light on inside Jan's. Rafe's house was on the same side as Heath's, so she couldn't see it, but she knew it was there. She knew he was probably in it. And she knew for damn sure this was where she belonged. This was always where she belonged. “This is now, Chance. Live up to your name, girl, take one."
* * * *
Heath stood under the shower and let the tears fall. He hadn't cried since he was a child, but he had lost a child, and that hurt like hell. It cut him bone deep and bled him dry. If he ever doubted her strength, he knew now she was definitely the stronger of the two. She survived so much as a child, then as a young woman, and even as his wife. He scrubbed his face and tried to figure out where he went wrong. What did he do to make her not trust him? She did plenty to sow that seed in his mind; though looking back he could see now, it was her way of keeping him emotionally distant.
She could control him with jealousy or his damn pride. All those years she was taking off for months even years at a time he thought she was just sowing wild oats. Instead, she was risking her life for a woman who didn't deserve her.
"Shit!” He smacked the tile wall. God, he loved her. He realized now he didn't know her at all. A thought occurred to him. Maybe they could just start over. It was a risk, a huge risk. He wasn't sure she would want to take it. His grandfather's letter reminded him there was no time to waste, anymore.
Heath got out of the shower and dried off. He pulled on a pair of boxers and then pulled out the old man's letter to read one more time. Hopefully, it would give him the strength he needed to take a huge chance on Chance.
Heath my boy,
You are the oldest. And your daddy and momma shouldered you with more responsibility than any child should have carried. You rode the range and learned to be a cowboy from him, and you learned to hold back your emotions from her. She always wanted a strong man, your momma. And she taught you boys to be strong as well. But what she forgot during that time was to teach you that the best times were when she let that down. When she let my son, your father, be a man, have a weakness. I was never afraid to show that to your grandmother, so I don't know where your daddy got it from. But I see you follow his trail, and it scares me. Cause I know you are capable of more.
Time, dear boy, is all you got in this world. If you spend that time holding on to things you should let go of, you'll regret it. Just like he did. My son died, and his dying words were of love. Love that he should have expressed every day, not just his last. You were with me when your Me-Maw passed. You saw me cry. You shared those tears. There's no shame in hurting when you lose what you love. Only shame in not letting the ones you love know it. I buried a wife and a child. I wish that on no man, but they both knew that I loved them, every day, not just one.
Don't waste any more time, Heath. Our years grow shorter as each day passes. Take your money, build your family, and love the one you're with. Women are a mystery. They need their secrets. Little things mean the most to them. You remember that. Those are the secrets they should keep. Treasures you give them along the way. And in this box is the letters your grandma wrote to me while I was on the range. You see, men need those little secrets sometimes, too.
/>
Carry the pocket watch with you. And when you look at it, remember, don't waste anymore time.
I love you son,
Paw.
He folded the letter and placed it back in the box. He ran his fingers over the smooth wood. His Paw was right. He had no time to waste. He stood in the kitchen door looking at her for a long moment before speaking. “Come here for a second."
"It's almost ready.” She kept right on cooking. Her back was to him. He watched her slide the eggs out of the skillet next to the steak. She doctored them up he could tell as red and green diced peppers decorated the yellow lumps. It smelled good. Like dinner, dinner he hadn't sat down to eat in this kitchen in forever. When Rafe cooked, they stood around the counter.
He decided to walk over to her since she was preoccupied with the food. He grabbed her elbow, slid his hand along the smooth skin on her arm, and took the skillet from her hand. He repeated the motion on her other arm and then removed the spatula from her hand. He sat them in the sink. They were right next to it at the counter, so he didn't have to move away from her to do so. “I missed you."
She leaned back against him. He wanted to tell her everything he felt, but this was new, and that was a start. She sighed and said, “I missed you, too. I always miss you when you're not right here beside me."
"I'm sorry I kissed that girl. I shouldn't have tried to make you jealous. It was wrong.” He kissed her temple and hugged her tightly.
"You were really trying to make me jealous?” She seemed almost happy about it. For the life of him, he didn't know why his acting like an ass would make her happy.
"Yeah.” He laughed. As he relaxed, he realized there was only one plate on the counter. “Why didn't you make anything for you?"
"I'm not hungry, just tired.” She rolled her head against him, and he hated to let her go. They couldn't just stand there all night next to the sink, though he wanted to.
"Go take your shower. By the time you're done in there, I'll be done in here, and we can get to bed.” He kissed her temple again. So far so good, she hadn't tried to ward off any affection, and she seemed to be compliant.
"Okay.” She nodded then left, taking her softness and sweet scent with her.
* * * *
Why did she suddenly feel like it was her first time? Heath hadn't promised her sex. He hadn't even said he forgave her, but as she showered, she began to get butterflies. The same butterflies she felt when she saw him that first time. It made no sense.
"Stop it,” she whispered to herself in the mirror. “Stop smiling like that or he will think you're a nut case."
"I think you're a nut case anyways, Sweetheart. Why would smiling change that?” He leaned around the corner of the bathroom door. He was smiling, too.
Now, she smiled uncontrollably. He was calling her sweetheart. He hadn't called her sweetheart since they first met. “You know I wish you smiled like that more often. You have the most amazing smile."
"I'll try to put it on a little more, then.” He stepped into the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush. They stood there in front of the double sink vanity and brushed their teeth, almost like the old routine except they were both smiling. Something so silly as brushing their teeth had them both giddy.
After a moment, she had to laugh. He laughed, too. They spit and rinsed and stood there laughing. At nothing. But it felt good.
"Good Lord. I haven't laughed like this in ages.” She tried to stop, but a few giggles remained.
"Me either.” All humor left his face.
Another light giggle escaped. She swallowed hard at his new expression. Heat pulsed over her and soaked into her skin. Her heart began to thunder, and those butterflies were now like hummingbirds fluttering full force in her stomach.
"Heath?” she asked.
His lips did the talking for him. He swept her up into his arms and kissed her lips. Possessive kisses aimed to brand her as his and his alone. His tongue pressed into her mouth and explored like he had never kissed her before. It felt like they had never kissed before. Her legs trembled in anticipation. Her arms pulled him closer, held him tighter.
Heath lifted her completely and started toward the bedroom. When he sat her on the edge of the bed, she was breathless, feeling faint. “You're beautiful, you know that?"
Wow. This really was a whole new Heath she was dealing with. “I'm all right."
"No, Sweetheart, you're more than all right. You're beautiful.” He traced her lips with his fingers.
"I feel lightheaded,” she whispered. “Nervous."
"Relax. I'll take care of you,” he promised; then he put those words into action.
His hands opened the towel she had wrapped around her, baring her completely. “Lay back."
"You mean..."
"I mean lay back.” He gently pressed his hand between her breasts and pushed her down. He climbed onto the bed next to her. “I've always wanted to do this, and tonight I'm going to."
Before she could ask what, he was kissing her again. She tried to pull him on top of her, but he refused to budge. It was then she realized she always pulled him on top of her. They had known each other forever, but they didn't start having sex until the year they started dating, the year she moved in with him and his mother. It wasn't long before she was out of the guest room and into his.
Heath brought her back to the moment when his hand slid over one of her breasts. Gently, he kneaded and stroked her soft tissue. His thumb teased her nipple causing sparks to shoot from the tip directly to her clit. She heard herself moaning. She felt her hands relax around him. Then, she let go of him altogether and raised her arms above her head.
"Now, we are on the same page again,” he said and kissed down her throat. “You taste amazing."
"I do?” She felt amazing under his attentive touch, but taste?
"Yes, you do.” He inhaled deeply. She could smell her own arousal, soft and warm on the air. His inhale only made her a little self-conscious about it. She tightened her legs in response. “You smell delicious, too."
"I don't know about that."
"I do.” He slid his hand along her stomach, over her navel, and down into her curls. “This red hair always made me crazy, you know that?"
"I didn't know.” Why was he talking so much? Didn't he know how much this was affecting her? Making it hard to keep her hands to herself and let him have his way. The thought of him having his way sent another surge of moisture to her already soaked vagina.
"Open up a little,” he said then latched onto her breast.
"Oh my God,” she said as he dipped his fingers farther down and circled her clit with his middle finger. He kept doing it, light and teasing as he varied his suckling from light to little biting nips.
"Open a little more,” he requested as he latched onto the other breast treating that nipple to the same attention. She opened her legs and inhaled the unmistakable scent of arousal. She grabbed the quilt beneath her and held on. She wanted to drag him over top of her and have him inside her. She now loved the way he felt inside her. She didn't want to wait for it. This time she would have to.
He pressed his middle finger deep inside her aching sex. She moaned again.
"I'm glad you like it.” He let go of her nipple with a pop; then he moved down her body until he was off the bed entirely.
"Where are you going?” She started to sit up, but his hands grabbed her thighs and spread them wide, halting all other motion.
Heath pulled her butt to the edge of the bed. “Keep them open, all right?"
"I'll try.” She gulped.
"You can watch you know?” he said as his fingers pulled her lips apart. “I'd like you to watch."
She pushed up on her elbows. The bathroom light cast a soft glow around him. She looked at herself. Her pussy was wet, soaked in juices and glistening. His thumb slid along the inside of her outer lips and spread them. She never really looked at it before. Certainly she never saw it the way he must have.
He took a
sharp breath then bent to kiss it. Her eyelids fluttered as her sex wept in response. “Oh my."
He licked her. His thick tongue swept out and over every inch of her. As the tip tickled her clit before retreating, her hips lifted against her will.
"Oh yeah. You like that.” Heath smiled at her then did it again. “You'll love this then."
He stopped teasing and testing her and began eating her pussy in earnest. He sucked her outer lips, traced them with his tongue. He dipped his tongue inside her, twirled it around, and made her ache for more. When she fell back on the bed, unable to hold herself up to watch any longer, he pressed his middle finger inside her, and she cried out.
"Yeah baby, tell me what you want.” Heath made long slow strokes in and out several times before adding a second finger. He suckled her clit. Right when she thought she would die, he stopped. “Tell me, Chance. Tell me you want me to make you come."
"I want you to make me come.” She would have told him anything he asked her at this point. “Please make me come."
"Anything for you, Sweetheart. I'd do anything for you.” And he did something right then she had no idea he was able to do because she had never given him the chance to do it before.
He suckled her clit and stroked her insides with his large fingers until she came. She yelled out in ecstasy as the walls inside her closed down on his fingers. Her greedy little pussy sucked them back inside when he slowly pulled back. Each pulse pulled him deeper.
"Yeah baby. That's it.” He kissed her inner thigh. She barely felt his lips against the competing sensations of her body.
Slowly, the room stopped spinning. Her heart thundered in her ears. Her legs trembled with weakness, and she became more relaxed than ever before in her life.
"Turn over,” he said.
"Hmmm,” she responded wistfully only half hearing him.
He chuckled. “I said, turn over."
She sighed. He laughed again.
He rolled her sated, limp body over for her.
"I have no strength to hold myself up.” She giggled.
