The Cowboy's Choice

by Janalyn Knight

  When he got home, he changed clothes and ate a piece of bread along with a glass of milk, coating his belly with food before fixing a drink. Clouds covered the sun and wind blew the branches of the tree in the yard. He sat on the edge of the pool and dangled his legs in the water. Taking a swallow of bourbon, he considered what to do about Lara. She was shutting him out, and he couldn't let that happen.

  He picked up his phone. Eight o'clock. Dammit, he had to talk to her. He texted:

  You home?

  A few seconds later:

  Yes.

  He typed fast:

  Need to see you. I went nuts all day, thinking about us and worrying about what's wrong.

  He waited, but she didn't answer. Still, he stayed his fingers, giving her time. At last, she sent:

  You're always so honest, Adam. Today was hard for me, too. Yet, I'm not sure seeing each other is a good idea.

  He wrote right back:

  Of course, it is. We belong together. Didn't you feel it last night? I did. I'm not giving up, Lara. Despite whatever problem you're facing, I'm here for the long haul.

  She didn't text. He waited longer, but still nothing. Had she put the phone down? His heart lurched. A weight settled on him. What was so bad that Lara couldn't tell him? They'd always been able to talk about their troubles. They'd shared everything.

  Then she texted:

  This is so hard, Adam. You're a wonderful man. I don't deserve your love.

  He sent:

  Don't move. I'm coming over.

  He threw some clothes and toiletries in a pack and slung it over his shoulder, heading out the door in less than five minutes.

  LARA PACED THE LIVING room, gulping her whiskey. She feared Adam's arrival for what she knew he would ask of her, yet she welcomed it too. Her pain screamed for release. It had been too long inside her, and Adam was the one person on earth who could seize that agony and drive it from her heart. Taking her last swallow, she refilled her glass, needing every ounce of courage the liquor would give her.

  The sound of Adam's truck came from her driveway. Pulse racing, she strode to the door and opened it.

  Dusk had deepened the shadows and she peered through the dim light as Adam headed toward her with a quick, purposeful stride. As he got to the door, he said, "Lara," and kissed her cheek.

  She stepped back, allowing him to precede her inside, her pulse beating so fast she could feel it in her neck. What would he do?

  Walking to the couch, he turned to her, beckoning with his hand. "Come here, Lara."

  With no thought of disobeying his command, she moved to face him and looked into his steady, demanding gaze.

  Grasping her shoulders, he leaned down and captured her lips in a fervent, insistent kiss, one she responded to with an eager burning intensity. His need, his authority, overpowered her reluctance.

  Her qualms about telling him the truth began to fade as he kissed her again with fiery, hot-blooded passion. She said, "Adam, I'm so sorry."

  He drew her into his arms and leaned his cheek against her. "Tell me now. Tell me everything. Don't stop talking until I know it all."

  He'd done it—made her ready to crack open her soul.

  He pulled her down on the couch with him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and snuggling her close. Cradling her face in his palm, pressing her into his breast, he said, "Start from the beginning, honey."

  Thank God he didn't expect her to meet his gaze. Instead, she stared at her hand caressing his broad chest. "I was heartbroken when you left for Boston."

  "I remember. It nearly killed me."

  "When I started school, I missed two periods in a row and found out I was pregnant."

  His arms clutched her tighter, and he sucked in a breath. "You didn't tell me."

  She closed her eyes, her heart a heavy stone in her chest. "You had already made your decision to go to Boston—to leave me. I didn't think dragging you back with an unexpected pregnancy would be right. I didn't feel like you wanted me, or my baby, more than you wanted your Boston Trauma Center."

  He raised her face to him, insisting that she look at him. "I never wanted to lose you. I loved you. I just wouldn't have been able to see you very often."

  She pulled her face away. "Come on, Adam. We both know how you were. Probably still are. Driven, totally focused. Within a few years you would have let me go in favor of excelling at university. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you that way. And what about caring for the baby? Should I have given up school? Which of us would have worked to support us?"

  He clenched his jaw. "I should have had the chance to choose."

  Nodding, she said, "I know that now. Then, I thought it was all on me. I did what I thought best."

  He exhaled loudly. "What happened to our baby, Lara?" His voice strained with the effort to say those words.

  Did he hate her yet? If not, he soon would. She tucked her chin into her chest, her voice low as she said, "The campus clinic prepared me for all eventualities. I had resources for termination provided as well as information for free or sliding scale maternity care if I chose to keep the baby. I was also given brochures for several agencies if I decided to give my baby up for adoption." She sighed, her stomach a ball of lead in her belly. "I chose the last option. The agency I signed up for paid for my maternity care and expenses." How would he look at her now that he knew she hadn't wanted his baby?

  She swallowed hard and tried to pull away.

  Holding her firmly, he kissed the top of her head. "Go on. I'm listening," he said in a tight but gentle voice.

  She couldn't bear what happened next. If only she could bypass it, she could get through the telling. She pulled back. "Adam, I ..."

  He cradled her head against him. "Tell it. I won't judge you. I won't let you stop now, either."

  Oh, God. How could she tell him that she should have been a better mother? That she should have tried harder, wanted her baby more—something—and maybe their baby girl would still be alive?

  "I ... I loved my baby," she stammered. "Even though I signed the papers to give her away—"

  He interrupted her. "Our baby is a girl?"

  She bit her lip, nodding, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I felt her first fluttering movements with such incredible joy."

  His hands clenched her. His eyes drilled into her. "Where is my daughter, Lara?"

  Her hand flew to her face. A sob wrenched from her throat as she whispered, "I lost her. I'm sorry, Adam."

  He forced her face to him. "What do you mean? How did you lose her?"

  She couldn't look at him, couldn't see the anger and revulsion that would surely be in his eyes. Eyes closed, she said, "Spontaneous abortion at four and a half months. If only I'd loved her more. If I'd wanted to keep my baby girl, it wouldn't have happened. I know that. A good mother would have taken better care of her baby. I didn't read any baby books. I didn't study how to be a good mom. I took my little girl for granted." Wrenching herself from his grasp, she wiped her tears away. "It's my fault our baby is dead."

  Adam sat in stunned silence beside her.

  She got up and paced the room. Her pain of a moment before was turning to a numbing hollow ache. Adam could never love her now. Never look at her the same.

  He took a large swallow of his drink and met her gaze, his eyes pained, but also forgiving. She hadn't expected that at all. Rising, he intercepted her pacing and brought her back to the couch. "Lara, thank you for telling me. I was a selfish fool. You should never have had to face your pregnancy alone. My choice to go to school in Boston when I could have made school with you in California happen, took away your trust in me." He scrubbed his hand over his face. "I can see why you didn't think I'd come back." Clasping her hand, he said, "I would have. I would have wanted our baby."

  She pulled her hand away. "Yes, but would you have blamed me? Blamed our little girl? I couldn't bear the thought of that. You made it clear you wanted your career as a trauma surgeon above everything. How
long would it have been before you started resenting losing your dream? Which one of us would have quit school? Me or you? Someone needed to support us. Do you see what I faced? I could kill your dream or kill mine. I could have you blame me or I could blame myself for giving my baby away." Her chest clenched, and she bit back a sob. She would never get over the pain of that horrible, fateful choice.

  "Come here," Adam said as he drew her into his arms again. Holding her tight, cupping her head to his chest, he said, "I'm so sorry, Lara. I can't imagine your pain. It was a terrible choice to face. I know you. You took care of yourself during your pregnancy. Do you realize that up to twenty percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage? It's most often because there’s something wrong with the fetus. Honey, losing our baby wasn't your fault. You couldn't have prevented it. I'm so sorry it happened, and I know you were in agony. I don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself." He brought her hand to his lips, looking into her eyes and letting his love shine a light into her devastated soul.

  His steady, healing gaze poured into her heart, stealing through her cold arms and hands, relaxing her tense muscles. He didn't hate her? Didn't blame her? She closed her eyes, let herself float in the warm cocoon of acceptance his words had given her. She hadn't known so many pregnancies ended as hers did. Did those other women blame themselves too? Adam had said something else. Her baby—something may have been wrong. Lara thought of the mass she'd seen and accepted that it might be true.

  Exhausted, she said, "Thank you, Adam, for understanding. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you so you could have had a choice. It was your right."

  He kissed the top of her head. "Hush. You did the best you could. I share the blame for that decision. I want you to let the pain go, now. I'll help you. You don't have to face it alone anymore."

  He held her for long, silent moments. Then, squeezing her shoulder, he said, "I didn't eat before I came. Have you had dinner yet?"

  She nodded. "I had a salad when I got home. Would you like me to make you something?"

  He smiled. "That would be great. I brought a bag. I'd like to stay and hold you tonight." His gaze locked with hers and the love, the vulnerability in his eyes sent ripples of joy through her.

  "I'd love that, Adam." She kissed him, caressing his cheek, and stood. "I'll make you something. Be right back."

  In the kitchen she took out ingredients for a turkey and ham sandwich, feeling light, free, like she could soar to the moon. With Adam's forgiveness, maybe she could begin to forgive herself. She wasn't a fool—it would take time—but the possibility was amazing. Finishing his sandwich, she set it in the dining room and went to get him. "While you eat, I'll shower. Come on."

  As she washed her hair a few minutes later, she let her mind wander to the night to come, falling asleep wrapped in Adam's arms, feeling his hard body pressed against hers. He was so tall, she always felt tiny in comparison. Healing would be slow, but with Adam it could happen.

  After her shower, she walked into the living room in her gown and robe, towel drying her long hair.

  Adam had finished eating and sat drinking another whiskey. He smiled, his eyes lighting with desire. "I see I have some hair to comb out."

  She grinned. "I'll take that offer. Shower's all yours. Let me show you the bathroom."

  He'd brought his bag in from the truck while she showered and followed her. When she stepped aside so he could enter the room, he dropped his bag and took her into his arms. "Too bad you've already had your shower."

  She laughed. "Hurry up, cowboy. I'll be waiting right here."

  He smacked her butt and headed inside.

  While Adam showered, she locked the doors and turned out lights. Back in the bedroom, she lit two scented candles and took off her robe before sliding into bed; the lamp on the nightstand set on low.

  As he walked out of the bathroom, Adam’s clean spicy scent spread through the room. His chest was bare and he wore a pair of athletic shorts.

  She inhaled, and goosebumps raced up her arms. Her breasts felt swollen and her nipples pressed against the fabric of her gown. The sight of him had set her pulse racing.

  He grinned and laid a condom on the table before slipping under the covers. Reaching for her, he said, "Scoot over here, darling. I need a kiss before I comb that beautiful hair."

  Moving against him, she lifted her face, opening her lips.

  He kissed her gently, almost reverently, running his hand up her side and cupping the back of her head, whispering, "You make me happy, Lara."

  She swept his lips with a kiss. "I'm glad you stayed."

  Patting her butt, he sat up. "Brush, please?"

  Handing it to him, she scooted between his legs, soon losing herself to the intense pleasure his gentle hands gave her as he coaxed her tangled strands into smooth, silken curls.

  Adam pulled her hair to the side, nuzzling her neck until it tickled. "All finished, love."

  She turned her face for a kiss. "Thank you. That was amazing." Scooting to her side of the bed, she switched off the lamp. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, only the two candles throwing light into the shadows of the room.

  A swish of fabric sounded and she knew it for Adam taking off his shorts. She grinned. That man loved to be naked. A lusty feeling of warmth stole over her. He reached across her and a condom package tore open. He would take care of her.

  He pulled her to him in the candlelight, his smile promising tenderness.

  An old familiar shiver coursed through her. He was her Adam, come back to her. She slid into his arms, welcoming his touch. Heat unfurled in her belly. She needed absolution on tonight of all nights.

  He drew her up, face to face and looked into her eyes, his love flowing into her in rivers of emotion. It filled her, helping to wash away the guilt and the pain. With a gentle smile, he lay her on her back. His palm held her face as his thumb caressed her lip before he brushed her lips with tender kisses. He gently removed her gown, then lay her back down again.

  She was adored, cherished. His lips found her hollows, her special, sensitive places, as he brought her alive with his mouth and his touch.

  As she worshiped his body, her kisses and nimble hands made him pant with desire.

  She spread her thighs and he covered her, holding his weight with his arms. Guiding him in, she groaned with pleasure as he made her full and tight.

  He withdrew and slowly filled her again.

  She arched into him, wanting him deeper inside her.

  He looked into her eyes as he entered her with slow gentle strokes, caressing her with his love.

  Clasping his butt, she felt his muscles contract with each move and the evidence of his power heightened her desire.

  He bent and kissed her so softly her lips tingled at the touch. A smile lit his face with a glow only true love could give.

  Her heart swept open and she clasped him, bringing him to her and kissing him deeply. She looked into his soft brown eyes and said, "I love you, Adam, and I always have."

  His eyes widened. He claimed her lips with abandon, sweeping her mouth with his tongue, branding her with his hot kisses. His strokes increased, swiftly pummeling her, his hips slapping against her in a staccato rhythm.

  She curled her legs around his hips as he pounded her pleasure spot. Tension built inside her. She clutched him, muscles tight, sweet bliss coming to her wave after wave in time with his strokes. Moving under him, she moaned with each thrust. Teetering on the edge, she gritted her teeth. He thrust again and her orgasm crested like an ocean wave, ripples of ecstasy spreading through her. She cried out, "Adam," and spasmed around him, holding him with all her strength.

  He thrust once, twice more and came with a shuddering cry.

  She tossed her head, her pulse thundering in her veins. Adam lowered himself on her and kissed her lightly on the lips. Neither one of them said anything.

  Soon, he pulled her into his arms to spoon against his chest and nibble at her ear. She giggled as he whispered, "Did you mean wha
t you said?"

  Knowing what he meant, she reached up to clasp his face. "Yes."

  He squeezed her tighter and sighed. "Thank God. I was getting pretty desperate."

  She turned to face him. "Adam Govain, I love you. Believe it."

  He grinned and kissed her forehead, then cuddled her to his chest.

  She lay still, filled with a peace that had been absent from her life for more than thirteen years. It felt fragile, like maybe she didn't deserve it. Like it could break any minute. Closing her eyes, she prayed that it didn't.

  Chapter Eight

  AS LARA PREPARED BREAKFAST, Adam enjoyed her sweet ass and sexy little feet moving briskly about the kitchen. A contentment like he'd never known eased his tense muscles and he lived this moment fully present, imprinting it on his mind as a favorite memory. He looked forward to spending lots of time with her this weekend.

  She set an omelet in front of him, along with a glass of orange juice, then brought hers from the counter and sat across from him at the dining room table. "Eat up, cowboy, you've got a lot of calories to replace."

  "What? I could make love to you all night with one arm behind my back."

  She laughed and shook her head, taking a big bite of egg. With a full mouth, she said, "Right. My he-man."

  They were back in old habits—her teasing him while he acted like a stud. She never let him get one up on her. Damn, he'd missed it, missed her, so much. He finished chewing. "Eve invited me for dinner at the ranch this evening. Come with me, Lara."

  Her eyes darkened and she concentrated on her plate. "Wow. The ranch. That would be a blast from the past."

  He urged, "You'll love Eve. I'm not sure if you remember her from the funeral. I couldn't ask for a better sister-in-law. And Abi, their baby girl, is the sweetest thing ever."

  Lara looked up, her mouth tight. "I saw you holding her that day. I wondered at the time if she were yours."