The Cowboy on Her Trail

by Janis Reams Hudson

“Nor you.” She reached for his shoulders and urged him onto the bed with her. “That’s better.”

  In sharp contrast to the fast-paced action adventure movie on the television, Blaire and Justin moved together as if performing a slow ballet, one graceful motion at a time, first by her, then him. Hands stroked, lips tasted, clothes drifted away one article at a time.

  There was no cold flesh, as heat moved from him through her and back again.

  There was no hurry, no rush to reach that peak of pleasure. They knew it was there, waiting for them. They knew it would be all the sweeter for taking their time in getting there.

  On the television, tires screeched and bullets exploded from guns.

  On the bed, breaths held in pleasure, then came out in soft sighs. Touches lingered, gazes smiled.

  When Justin entered her Blaire felt her own completion in the most profound way. This was right, the two of them together, with the child they created between them.

  Her vision blurred. His name left her lips softly, with deep emotion.

  Justin was humbled by the tears in her eyes and the depth of emotion in her voice. For his part, he felt as if he had finally come home, there in her arms. He had felt this way only three times in his life. Every one of those times had been when he was buried deep inside this one woman.

  He knew that had to mean that they were meant to be together, but just then he couldn’t concentrate enough to turn the thought over in his mind. The pressure in his loins was building, and Blaire was urging him faster, harder, deeper.

  Together they climbed that steep slope and slid quietly yet unmistakably over the edge into the mindless world of colors and breathless wonder.

  They slept that night in each other’s arms, flesh to flesh, heart to heart. Four times, now, they had made love, and they had napped together earlier that very day. But they had never fallen asleep in each other’s arms, knowing they need not wake until morning. It was a luxury and a gift, and Blaire closed her eyes and reveled in it.

  Justin woke once to turn off the light and television. So much, he thought with a smile, for Blaire’s belief that she could only sleep in the dark and quiet.

  Outside the wind had died. He lifted one edge of the drapes and peered out, noting that the snow had finally stopped, leaving everything covered in a thick blanket of white.

  When he crawled back beneath the covers, Blaire’s arms welcomed him, even while she slept.

  Now that, he thought, had to mean something. In her sleep she wanted him, trusted him, welcomed him. Surely she could learn to do those things when awake, couldn’t she?

  He tried to wrap his mind around a way to make her want to marry him, but he felt so loose and relaxed that he found he couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together. Within minutes he was once again asleep.

  When Justin opened his eyes, Blaire was staring at him with a bemused smile. There was enough light seeping in around the edges of the drapes across the room behind him that he knew it was daylight.

  “Good morning.” He gave her a smile of his own. “I could get used to this, waking up with you. I think you should change your mind and marry me.”

  A funny look crossed her face. Her lips mashed tightly together, her eyes widened, and her cheeks bellowed. Her skin looked a little on the green side.

  “Blaire?”

  She slapped one hand over her mouth, made a strangling noise, and leaped from the bed and toward the bathroom. A second later Justin heard the clank of the toilet lid being thrown back and the unmistakable sound of a woman tossing her cookies.

  Alarmed, he dashed after her, feeling more helpless than he could remember ever feeling. All he could do was kneel at her side and hold her hair back and away from her face. He nearly got sick himself watching her heave into the commode again and again.

  Finally she sat back on her heels, eyes closed, and panted.

  Hurriedly Justin wet a washcloth at the sink and wiped her face. “Hell, darlin’, if you didn’t want to marry me, a simple no would have done it.”

  Blaire, still a little nauseated, more than a little humiliated at having him witness her throwing up her guts, took the washcloth from him and covered her face with it in time to muffle a burst of laughter. “Don’t be silly.”

  Then, in an abrupt turnaround of mood familiar to pregnant women everywhere, she burst into tears.

  “Aw, come on, honey, don’t cry.” He started to take her in his arms, but she sucked in a sharp breath and made another dive for the toilet.

  Nothing came up this time, for which Justin was grateful. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take without dropping to his knees and joining her.

  After another few minutes, when Blaire felt steady enough, Justin helped her back to bed. He smoothed the covers over her shoulders and kissed her nose. “What else can I do? What do you need?”

  Blaire sniffed. “You’re being awfully sweet about this.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? I assume this is morning sickness caused by the baby, but even if it wasn’t, you can’t help it if you’re sick. I’ve been sick a time or two. I always like somebody to lend me a hand. Do you want some water?”

  She rolled her head slightly from side to side on the pillow. “Crackers. In my coat pocket.”

  “You carry crackers in your coat?” He reached into the pocket of her coat and came up with a cellophane package containing two saltine crackers.

  “They came with my salad,” she explained at his questioning look.

  “Is this enough?” He tore open the package and gave her a cracker. “Just these two little crackers? I can get you more.”

  Nibbling on the cracker, Blaire smiled. “I won’t need more, at least until tomorrow morning.”

  Justin shuddered to think of having to go through, day after day, what she’d just gone through. “Does it happen every day?”

  “Almost,” she said, reaching for the second cracker. “But it goes away pretty fast.”

  “That’s something,” he said. “I guess. How long is this supposed to last?”

  She shrugged. “It’s different for every woman. But with any luck it should go away in another few weeks.”

  “Weeks?” He felt his stomach turn over at the very thought.

  She finished her cracker and traced a finger across his cheek. “It’s sweet of you to care.”

  “Care? It’s our baby that’s making you sick. Of course I care. And I meant what I said earlier. I do wish you’d change your mind and marry me.”

  She smiled up at him sadly. “Are you in love with me, Justin?”

  Her question startled him. Had she been reading his thoughts from the day before? “I…”

  “Don’t you think we should be in love with each other before we get married?” she asked.

  Dammit, she was making his own argument for him. Now he had to argue the other side.

  “I admit,” he said slowly, “that that’s how it should be, but we’ve kinda put things out of order, you and I. And anyway, I don’t know if I even know what love is. I’ve never been in love before, Blaire. I know I feel things for you I’ve never felt for another woman, but is it love? I suppose I could lie and say yes, but I can’t lie to you. The God’s honest truth is, I don’t know.”

  Blaire swallowed a hard knot of disappointment. She shouldn’t have been surprised; she’d known he wasn’t in love with her. Just because she loved him didn’t mean he had to return her feelings.

  “We could still make a go of it,” he said.

  “A go of it?” She felt dazed, bruised. Heaven help her, had she harbored some hope that they would fall into each other’s arms and swear their undying love for each other?

  Nonsense. She pushed herself up and leaned against the headboard, tucking the sheet beneath her arms.

  “Yeah,” Justin said. “I mean, just because we’re not madly in love doesn’t meant we can’t make it work. As long as we respect each other’s feelings, and we’re polite and honest and considerate with each other,
how many problems could we have that we couldn’t see through?”

  She was shaking her head no before he finished speaking. Probably, she thought, because his words made such uncommonly good sense for two people in their situation.

  “Surely we could get through the next few months, until the baby’s born, without doing any lasting damage to each other,” he offered. “If we’re not happy with each other by then, we can go our separate ways. Meanwhile the baby carries the Chisholm name and the two of you get taken care of and don’t have to worry about the future.”

  “Justin, I’m honored that you want to marry me, honest I am. But I told myself a long, long time ago that I would marry for love—mutual love—or not at all. I won’t try to cut you out of the baby’s life, and I won’t turn down your help—when I need help. But none of that means we need to get married.”

  Justin scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “I’ll ask again,” he warned.

  “Not for a while, please,” she said. “Just let it go for a few weeks. Please?”

  Justin let out a long breath. “All right. If that’s the way you want it. But I can’t keep this from my family for much longer.”

  “No,” she said. “That’s no fair. My family knows. There’s no reason you can’t tell yours.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “No. They’re the baby’s family, too.”

  “Do you want to be there when I tell them?”

  She gave him a crooked smile. “At the risk of proving what a coward I am, no. If we were announcing that we were getting married—”

  “Fine by me.”

  “—that would be different. But since we’re not, I’ll let you tell them without me.”

  “They’ll probably all show up at the feed store, one at a time, to see you.”

  She nodded and stared at her hands in her lap. “I’ll be ready.”

  Justin laughed and used one forefinger to nudge her chin up so she would look at him. “They wouldn’t be coming to point fingers and make faces. They’ll be coming to see how you’re doing, if you need anything. They’ll probably start bringing baby presents the day after I tell them.”

  “Oh, they wouldn’t.”

  “They would, and neither you nor I will be able to stop them, especially my grandmother. This will be the birth of her first great-grandchild, so brace yourself.”

  By noon Justin had sat still in the motel for as long as he could. The storm was gone, the sun was shining, the snow was melting rapidly, especially on the roads.

  Still, he wouldn’t take chances with Blaire’s safety. He waited another couple of hours to let the traffic and the highway department do the work of clearing the roads.

  He called a local garage and arranged to have Blaire’s car towed in and checked out. They promised not to do any actual repairs without her permission.

  “As soon as it’s drivable,” Justin told Blaire, “I’ll drive you back up here to get it.”

  Blaire merely hummed, not disagreeing, but not specifically agreeing, either. She had agreed to accept his help, but only when she needed it. Her mother was more than capable of driving Blaire to Stillwater to get her car. Her father was certainly able, if not particularly willing, to handle the store without either of them for a few hours.

  It was with relief that she joined Justin in the cab of his pickup for the drive home.

  At least, she told herself it was relief. But she would probably dream for the next month about falling asleep and waking up in his arms. About his tender care of her when the morning sickness hit. About his thought-provoking solution to marriage when there was no deep love.

  The roads were already mostly clear, but snow-packed and icy patches waited to send the careless off into the nearest ditch. A few miles out of town that was where she spotted her little red car—in the ditch. It was only identifiable because the sun had melted the snow enough that the red roof of the car was exposed.

  She hoped the car would be all right until it was towed to safety.

  Then she faced forward, and looked toward home. It was time to get back to reality.

  Chapter Ten

  The reality Blaire returned to was anything but pleasant.

  Everything was fine when Justin pulled up at her garage apartment and carried her things upstairs for her. He didn’t stay. She didn’t ask him to. Somehow on the way home the silence between them became less and less comfortable until the air in the cab felt thick with tension.

  Still, their parting was friendly enough. And she did remember to thank him for rescuing her from the ditch, and for taking care of her when she’d been sick that morning.

  “You don’t need to thank me,” he’d protested.

  “Maybe not, but I do anyway,” she told him. “Will you let me know how it goes when you tell your family about the baby?”

  “Sure.” He smiled and brushed a finger down her cheek. “But there’s not going to be a problem, as long as they know I’ve asked you to marry me,” he added.

  Blaire stared at him. “Is that why you’ve been asking? Because your family will expect it?”

  “If you think insulting me will get me to stop asking, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “I wasn’t insulting you,” she protested. “I was seeking information.”

  “Your question was insulting. I’ve been asking you to marry me because I want to marry you. For me. For myself. And for the baby. The rest of my family has nothing to do with it, and no say in the matter.”

  “You’ll explain that to them, won’t you?”

  “Yes.” He gave her a sharp nod. “I will.”

  Okay, Blaire thought when he drove off a moment later. That could have gone better.

  Before she could stew about it or even cry, which was what she wanted most to do, she squared her shoulders and headed for her office in her parents’ house. Her mother’d had to handle the books—which, after all, had always been her job anyway until she broke her arm last summer—for several days in a row. She was probably ready to chew nails.

  Yet when Blaire entered the house she found her mother sitting on the couch in the living room, with her feet up, watching a soap opera.

  “You’re home,” she said, her face registering surprise when Blaire walked into the room.

  “I called and said I was on the way.”

  “I know, sweetie, I just didn’t expect you so soon. So, tell me.” Using the remote, she turned off the television and patted the spot beside her on the sofa. “How did it go?”

  Blaire shrugged and took the offered seat. “It went great, until the blizzard. I got to see Connie and Sherry, but Gayle wasn’t home. I know, I know.” She held up a hand to forestall anything her mother might say. “If I had called first I would have known that. But I had a good time visiting with Sherry and Connie, anyway.”

  Nancy Harding tsked and shook her head. “You never used to be so dense, dear. When I asked how it went, I meant with you and Justin.”

  Blaire narrowed her eyes. “Oh, yes, you’re the one who told him where I was and how to find me.”

  “And?” her mother asked expectantly.

  “And, what?” If her mother wanted information, Blaire was going to make her work for it.

  “You know ‘and what.’ What happened when he found you? Are you getting married?”

  “Mother, I’ve told you before, Justin and I are not getting married.”

  “But he asked you, didn’t he?”

  “He did. And yes, I said no.”

  “But, why?” Her mother looked truly baffled.

  Blaire, however, was the baffled one. “How can you ask that? I’ve told you and told you that I will never willingly put myself in a position to end up with a marriage like yours and Daddy’s. The two of you bicker and snipe at each other all the time. I don’t want to live that way.”

  Her mother popped up off the sofa as if on springs. “Now you listen here, young lady. I’m getting sick and tired of your constantly criticizing our
marriage. It’s not your place to approve or disapprove how your father and I are with each other.”

  Blaire closed her eyes and turned her head away. “I know that. I’m sorry, Mama.” Taking in a deep breath, she faced her mother. “I know it’s not my place, and I don’t say these things to hurt you or make you angry. But I see how unhappy you both are so much of the time, and now you’re telling me I need to make the same bed for myself.”

  “Seems to me, missy, you already did make the same bed for yourself. Made it, spent some time rolling around in it, if your condition is anything to go by.”

  “Mama!”

  “Well? You feel so free to criticize me and my marriage, I’m just laying out the truth for you to see with your own eyes.”

  Blaire groaned and pushed herself up from the sofa. “This is getting us nowhere. I came over to check on the bookkeeping.”

  “Fortunately for you, but not your father, business has been slow because of the snow. The books are all up to date and ready for you to take over. And while I’m standing here glancing out the window,” she added with a frown, “where’s your car?”

  Oops. “Uh, well, it’s kinda…”

  “Oh, I know that look,” her mother said. “What have you done? Where is your car?”

  “All right. It’s in a ditch a few miles outside Stillwater.”

  “A ditch?” her mother shrieked. “How bad was it? Were you hurt? Are you all right? The baby?”

  “We’re fine.” It warmed Blaire’s heart that her mother seemed to care so much about the baby. “Both of us. I slid off the road in the blizzard and slid down an embankment into the ditch. It was no big deal, except I couldn’t get out. Justin helped me, and my car’s being towed to a body shop as soon as the tow truck can get it out.”

  Her mother pursed her lips and crossed her arms, a calculating look coming into her eyes. “You ran off the road during the blizzard.”

  “That’s right. What are you getting at?”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Yesterday morning, when the blizzard hit. Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “What way?”

  “Like you think I’m holding out on you or something.”