by Cheryl Biggs
“Love me,” Kate begged, writhing beneath him, arching her body toward him, silently pleading, begging for more of the sweet torture his caresses and kisses wrought upon her senses.
His hand moved downward, slipping between her thighs, gently urging them apart.
A conflagration of hunger, delicious and volcanic, erupted within Kate. Within seconds whatever rational thought was left her was destroyed as she felt him move gently inside her. “Shane,” she moaned, needing, begging him to release her from the pleasure-filled torment of his touch, pleading with him to go on torturing her forever, to hold her in his arms and love her until there was no more life in her body, nothing left but an eternity in his arms.
His lips claimed hers again as they moved together, almost as one.
He whispered her name over and over, his voice deep and throaty.
An intense rending suddenly filled Kate’s body, shattering the tremulous waves of pleasure coursing through her and turning them to violent, desperate, sense-reeling currents of euphoria. She clung to him tightly, tears filling her eyes, his name on her lips.
The bedroom door suddenly opened and Lorie peeked around its edge. “Can I come in?”
Kate ripped her gaze from the bed and, momentarily disoriented, lost in her memories, looked at her stepmother.
“Kate, are you all right?” Lorie asked, approaching her.
She wanted to say no. Her knees felt suddenly weak, her insides were nothing but one big ache, and in spite of her father and Lorie being in the house, she felt so alone she just wanted to sit down and bawl like a baby. All she wanted was to be left alone, but, reaching out toward her dresser to steady herself, she smiled and nodded instead. “I’m fine,” she said. “Come in.”
Her stepmother sat on the chair before the dressing table as Kate took a pair of jeans and a shirt from the closet and struggled her way into them. She slid a boot onto her good foot, and left her other merely encased in a sock.
“Why are you a cop, Kate?”
Startled, Kate looked up and frowned. “Why am I a cop?” She laughed. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to be. Dad was a cop. My grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather were cops. In fact, my great-great-great-grandfather was a deputy for Wyatt Earp for a while.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s in the blood. I don’t know.”
Lorie nodded. “But Shane won’t accept it?”
“No.”
“Do you know why?” Lorie persisted.
Kate sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Everything between a man and woman in love matters, Kate,” Lorie said softly. “Are you certain you really can’t give up being a police officer?”
Kate’s ankle began to throb. She hopped to the bed and sat down, turning to face Lorie. She was nothing like Kate’s mother. Margaret’s hair had been like fire, her eyes the color of a Southern lagoon. Lorie was blond, her eyes brown, and she was so petite that from a distance she could be mistaken for a child.
There hadn’t been another woman in Harry Morgan’s life since the day Kate’s mother had died, until Lorie. There had only been Kate and her dad. They’d done everything together. She sighed. “My mother gave up her career when she got married, and she regretted it so much that she killed herself.” Kate drew back her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly. “I won’t let that happen to me, Lorie. I can’t.”
Lorie stared at Kate for a long moment. “Have you ever said this to your father?”
Kate shook her head. “No. It would hurt him, if he found out I knew the truth.”
“Harry!” Lorie called suddenly, rising and walking toward the door. “Harry!”
“No,” Kate yelled. “Lorie, please!”
Her father barged into the room, eyes wide, face red. “What’s wrong?”
Lorie turned to Kate. “Tell him,” she ordered sternly.
Kate shook her head, and looked away, wishing she’d never trusted the woman. What was the matter with her anyway? She’d only known Lorie for a year. She should have known better.
Lorie took Harry’s hand and drew him into the room. “Harry, Kate thinks Margaret killed herself because she was unhappy about giving up her singing career to be a wife and mother.”
“What?” Harry looked at Kate, his mouth hanging agape, his eyes wide with shock.
“Daddy, I—”
He walked across the room and sat down beside her. “Honey,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that’s what you thought?”
Kate turned to look at him. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Daddy, I didn’t want you to know I knew the truth.”
He smiled, but she saw the sadness in his eyes. “Your mother was dying, Kate. The doctors had given her a few more months, but...” He shrugged. “Do you remember those little vacation trips she used to take?”
Kate nodded.
“They were stays in the hospital.” He sighed deeply. “Tests. Treatments. Exploratory surgeries. The bills were mounting at a pace I couldn’t keep up with, the insurance was running out, and your mother was getting worse. She was in a lot of pain, but she tried to hide it. Especially from you.”
“But I heard her say she should never have married you,” Kate said. “That she should never have left the stage.”
“She did say that,” Harry admitted, “but you didn’t hear it all, honey. She meant if she hadn’t married me I wouldn’t be losing everything. The medical bills were eating us up. Our house was mortgaged to the hilt, and the bill collectors were coming after what was left.”
Kate shook her head. He was trying to make it easier for her, like he’d been doing ever since that day. “You don’t have to lie to me, Daddy. She gave up her career to get married and wasn’t happy. I’m sorry, but I know that’s the truth. I heard her.” She inhaled deeply and looked into his eyes “And I won’t make that same mistake.”
Harry shot up off the bed. “Katherine Marie Morgan,” he said, his deep voice as much filled with anger and determination, as love, “I swear, you are every bit as hard headed and stubborn as your mother was.”
“Daddy—”
“No,” Harry snapped. “No more talk. There’s something you need to see.” He walked to the door. “Stay put. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Kate’s father had been gone twenty minutes when the phone rang. Lorie answered it and whispered the caller’s name as she handed the receiver to Kate. She gritted her teeth as Captain Aames’s voice snapped into her ear. “There is no one else I can assign to this case, Morgan.”
“But—”
“No buts. I realize you can’t compete now, but your cover’s still intact, which means you have every right to be at the arena without arousing suspicion. So unless you’re telling me you want to be put on disability leave—”
“No,” Kate said, “but—”
“Good. Then do your job.”
The connection went dead with a solid click in her ear. Kate looked at the receiver, then placed it back in its cradle. “Well, I guess I’m still on the case,” she mumbled.
Lorie smiled. “Good. Want another cup of coffee?”
Harry Morgan didn’t say a word when he returned. He merely handed Kate a small leather-bound book, then accepted a cup of coffee from Lorie and sat down. That had been an hour ago. Kate turned the last page of her mother’s diary, then slowly closed it. Her father had told her the truth. Not just what she’d wanted to hear, but the truth. She wiped away her tears and set the diary on her coffee table, then looked up at her father. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Me, too,” he said gruffly, “for not knowing that’s what you thought all these years.”
“But it doesn’t change anything,” Kate said softly.
Harry frowned. “Kate, when you love someone, sometimes you have to make compromises to make it work.”
She nodded. “I know, but...” She glanced at the pictures of her ancestors that lined the mantel; her gr
eat-great-grandfather, her great-grandfather, her grandfather, and her dad, all with badges pinned to their shirtfronts. “Being a cop is a tradition in our family,” she said softly, “and I’m the only one now who can carry it on.”
Her father’s eyes filled with tears. “I taught you how to defend yourself, buttons, I taught you about the law, about right and wrong, and family values and traditions,” he said softly, “but maybe I taught you too well.” He shook his head. “You don’t have to be a cop to please me, honey, all you have to do is be happy.”
She stared into his eyes long and hard. “But there’s no one else but me to carry it on, Dad.”
“Marry Shane and have a bunch of little babies,” her father said. “Maybe one of them will want to carry it on. If not—” he shrugged “—we’ll love ’em anyway, and we’ll be happy to boot.”
Just then the sound of a car pulling up in the drive drew Kate’s attention. Her breath caught in her throat as an image of Shane jumped into her mind, and hope filled her heart.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Lorie said, and hurried to answer the door. She returned to the living room a minute later. “Some nice young man just handed me the keys to your car.” She dangled them in front of Kate. “It’s parked in the driveway.”
Kate looked at the keys. A sense of emptiness settled into her chest. I’ll send someone back with your car.
Her father rose. “It’s time we left. Our honeymoon was great, but now we’re back and ready to settle in to that new house we bought. We stopped here before even going home, and frankly, I’m bushed.” He looked down at Kate. “Go talk to him, Kate. Make things right for you two.”
She watched him walk to the front door.
“Harry,” Lorie said, pausing and looking back at Kate, “trade cars with her. She can’t drive that thing of hers now—it’s a stick shift.”
Harry nodded and walked back to where Kate sat, but instead of just trading keys with her, he hunkered down before her, and took her hands in his again. “Buttons,” he said softly, “the day your mother died was the worst day in my life. I lost her, and there was nothing I could do about it.” His eyes glistened with tears as the memory of that day washed over him. “Don’t let that happen to you, honey, not when it doesn’t have to.”
Kate sat on her patio, deep in thought, as the sun slowly began its descent toward the mountains. In just a matter of a few hours everything she’d believed had changed. All her reasonings and rationale, based on that one comment of her mother’s that she’d overheard as a child, had been wrong.
Kate sighed and struggled against the upheaval of emotion warring inside of her. She’d been so wrong, so foolish, but would Shane understand if she tried to explain? Would he even listen to her? Tears of regret filled her eyes. More to the point, she thought finally, would he even care? Kate looked across the valley at the distant mountains, their rugged peaks a gray silhouette as the sun setting behind them turned a brilliant gold, edged with pink. She slammed a fist down on the bare ground beside her. “He has to at least listen,” she snapped, the determination and strength that had seen her through the last three years returning to her twofold. Pushing to her good foot, she grabbed her crutches and turned to the house.
Three years ago he’d given her an ultimatum that had angered her to the core, but not for one minute had she believed he would follow through on it. They had loved each other so much she hadn’t been able to fathom a day in her life without him in it.
I won’t have a cop for a wife, Kate. Give it up and marry me, or we’re through.
Furious, and outraged that he would demand such a thing, she’d told him she would never quit her job. She’d been confident he wouldn’t really leave her, but he had, and a part of her died that day. Even though she’d devoted herself to her job since then, and accomplished a lot, none of it had ever made her feel as complete as being in Shane’s arms. She just hadn’t let herself realize it until now.
At the door to her bedroom, she remembered the question her stepmother had asked her earlier. Why wouldn’t Shane accept her job as a cop? She’d never asked. Guilt joined the other feelings still battering her. She’d had her reasons for saying no, but what had been his reason for asking?
She shoved her driver’s license into her pocket, and scooped up her father’s keys from the coffee table. Without thinking, she automatically strapped on her leg holster and slipped her gun into it, then yanked her pant leg back down over her boot and grabbed her cell phone. She locked the house up and hobbled across the drive to the dark green Grand Prix Lorie had picked out only six months ago.
Kate swore at herself softly. How could she have been such a fool for so long? She’d let Shane walk out of her life once, but that wasn’t going to happen again. Not if she could help it. If she had to throw her broken body at him, he was going to listen.
On the way down the mountain she tried to think of what she was going to say to him. Then she remembered Dee Brant. Unconsciously Kate stiffened as jealousy and uncertainty threatened to overwhelm her and undermine her determination and self-confidence.
“No,” she said, sternly and aloud, refusing the little voice inside her that was urging her to turn the car around and go back to the house.
But what if he was with Dee Brant now? Kate shoved the thought aside, not wanting to think about it.
Half an hour later her cell phone rang as she was pulling into the rodeo’s parking lot.
“Morgan?” Captain Aames barked.
Kate nearly groaned aloud and wished she hadn’t automatically answered the ring. “Yes, sir.”
“Those kids you wanted checked out...we’re getting the reports back now. Most of them are coming in clean, a few priors on some, but nothing serious. We still have a couple that haven’t come in yet though.”
Static suddenly filled their connection.
“You on your cell phone?” Aames barked. “You can read this stuff yourself if you’re on the way in here.”
“I’m not,” Kate said. “Which ones haven’t you got yet?” She heard the rustle of paper over the phone.
“Tim Gregson. My notes say he works with one of the vendors. Jimmy Kent, son of an association member, and Josh Lawyler, kid brother of one of the contestants, Craig Lawyler.”
She pulled into a parking space not too far from where Shane’s trailer was parked. “Let me know when you have word on them. Especially Lawyler,” she added, not even certain why. The kid was a smart mouth, she’d heard him lip off several sarcastic remarks about Skip Magruder, but she hadn’t actually seen or heard about him doing anything but talk. Nevertheless, she had a feeling. He was built light, and he was blond—just like the person she’d spotted sneaking away from the stalls that night.
She cut the connection and replaced the car phone in its cradle. Climbing out of the low-slung Grand Prix wasn’t quite as easy as hopping down from Shane’s pickup. She dropped a crutch. “No!” The thing smacked against the door of the car and the wing-tipped screw at the crutch’s handle scraped the paint. Kate stared at the jagged little scratch it left in her father’s brand new car. Inhaling deeply, she tried putting a little weight on her injured foot, just as a test. Maybe she could do without the blasted crutches. Pain shot up her leg and she winced. When she could get her breath again, she held on to the door handle and bent to retrieve the crutch.
There were no lights on in Shane’s trailer and she didn’t see his pickup, so she headed toward the arena.
Tim Norris was standing near the Snack Shack, talking to one of the flag girls. “Tim,” Kate said, touching him on the arm when he didn’t notice her.
He turned. “Hey, beautiful, how are you doing?”
“Have you seen Shane?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “Not tonight. I was looking for him myself a while ago, but I figure he’ll show up before his ride.”
She nodded and turned toward the stalls. Maybe he was there with Samson. She hadn’t gotten more than
half a dozen steps when the PA system crackled to life and the announcer declared the next barrel racer into the arena would be Dee Brant.
Dee. Maybe he was watching her ride. Kate hurried to the arena fence, but as she looked around, her heart sank. She didn’t see him anywhere. She was about to turn away when Dee and her horse charged out of the gate. Kate watched, nearly mesmerized, having never seen a better barrel racer. They moved as if in perfect tune with each other, horse and rider stretching long for the runs, then leaning just right into the curves.
If Dee Brant didn’t win herself a buckle and prize money here, Kate thought, it would be because the judges were blind. Her gaze moved toward the shadowed area beneath the announcers’ booth. Several bulls were being ushered into the waiting pens, a half dozen cowboys were preparing for their rides, but Shane wasn’t in sight.
She remembered that his truck hadn’t been in the parking lot, then tried to still the anxiety that attacked her. He wouldn’t have left.
He left three years ago, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered. But no sooner had it spoken to her than a commotion to her left drew Kate’s attention. She turned to see Shane, Skip Magruder, Tim Norris, and several men with cameras and microphones exiting the publicity house.
Shane’s gaze momentarily met hers, and Kate started at the coolness she felt exude from him. Every dream she’d been clinging to threatened to disappear as she felt her hopes dashed by that hard glare.
Dee Brant, who’d finished her ride, rode past and waved at the men.
Kate’s gaze momentarily followed the woman. What was she to Shane? The thought nagged at her, nudging her guilt and igniting her jealousy. If Shane was in love with Dee, why had he been with Kate? She looked back at where Shane had been, needing to ask him, needing to explain herself, hoping he would understand and still want her, still love her....But he was gone.
