Colton's Folly (Native American contemporary romance) (13 page)

He felt the wetness and lifted his head, then slowly, gently, kissed each tear, licking his lips to capture the salt taste. Then he pressed his lips to hers in a strange kind of sharing that sent an eerie hot-cold sensation through her. He opened his eyes, and his pupils were black velvet, his lids heavy with desire. His lips parted, showing straight white teeth that seemed to glitter against his dark skin. Abby lay there beneath him, amazed at the transformation.

“I’m sorry, Abby,” he whispered against her mouth. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His lips trailed softly over hers, soothing, caressing what he had bruised only seconds before.

His fingers released her wrists and laced themselves through hers as he shifted position and the long, heavy length of his body covered her. He kept his eyes on hers, holding her, binding her, even though her mind rebelled against his power and vowed to resist.

She fought him silently as his lips caressed her forehead and temples and traveled slowly down her cheeks to trace feathery patterns along her jaw. They came to rest in the hollow of her throat, lingering as if to drink in her scent, then wandered over the strong column of her neck and the areas beneath her ears.

He
nuzzled in the opening of her blouse, feeling her heat, tasting the skin in the valley between her breasts, sending a shaft of pain through her, a shaft of pain that was pleasure spreading through her belly and down her thighs. As if he knew, his hand slid down her leg and then back up, lightly massaging her inner thighs through her jeans. Her free hand clutched at his shoulder, then traveled down his back, enjoying the tactile pleasure of his muscles as they flexed and relaxed beneath their covering of flesh and rough cotton. She wanted to feel his bare skin and to lie naked under his hands, and she despised herself for wanting it.

His lips were gentle and persistent, tantalizing her with sweet denial until she found herself impatient for more. And he knew
that,
too, and his eyes gave her a knowing smile. He released her hands so he could wrap his arms around her; her fingers tangled in his hair, and she moaned softly as, finally, his mouth came down to claim hers in a long, searching kiss that robbed them of breath and resistance to each other.

Time and the world faded away, along with all the inner promises they both had made to avoid exactly what was happening. They lost themselves in their tentative exploration of each other’s bodies and reactions. But the very intensity of their feelings tore at Abby’s consciousness and she struggled once more to break free, pushing against his chest and protesting, “Cat, please let me go. I can’t breathe, I can’t think.”

His mouth lifted from hers, and his eyes opened with dreamy slowness to reveal the same smoldering passion his body had already transmitted to her; she felt herself drowning in their depths. He stared down at her for a long time, his eyes coming into sharp focus finally and glittering with that familiar light she now knew meant both passion and anger.

He moved away and looked at the far shore, cursing himself for losing control, for giving in to his need for her, for knowing that if she hadn’t broken away, he would never have stopped at kisses. His voice was gruff and impatient when he spoke.

“I think you’d better go.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He fairly shouted the words, but for Abby, there was a strange sort of comfort in the return of his anger, which was not nearly as frightening as his passion had been. “Damn it, woman! There’s no room in my life for you. None. And you’d better know that if you stay, I sure as hell will have you. But never on this earth will you have me!”

Every Saturday Abby visited the ranch to spend the day with Penny, but because she worried about the child’s growing attachment to her, she asked permission to bring Anissa with her. After some initial shyness the girls warmed to each other, renewing the brief friendship that had formed during the students’ day at the ranch. Before long, they trotted off hand in hand to Penny’s tree house, and by the end of that first day they refused to be parted.

Arrangements were made for Anissa to stay for the weekend, with Hank acting as chauffeur for the return trip. The visits continued through the summer. Both girls benefited: Penny became more confident and outgoing with each visit; and Anissa, who had a strong mothering instinct, active even at such a young age, was given a means of expression.

The pattern varied one Saturday afternoon just as the school year ended. Hank and Penny came into Twin Buttes to take part in a family reunion at Martha’s, and Abby had the day to herself. She was happily engaged in stripping the paint from an old wooden trunk when she heard a knock on her front door. She opened it to find Cat standing on the middle step of her porch, a mildly embarrassed smile lifting the rncorners of his mouth. The dark blue plaid shirt he’d tucked into his dress jeans brought a midnight sheen to his black hair, and sunlight danced in his eyes. He looked lean and fit, muscular without being muscle-bound, and her heart fluttered in her chest.

“What are you doing down there?” she asked with a smile.

He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

“Then why did you come?” she asked as she walked to the edge of the porch.

“I’m carrying a message from my mother.”

She nodded. “I see.” She sat down on the top step and patted a spot near her. “Well, come on up and set.”

He smiled as he took the place beside her. “Do I detect a bit of the old west creeping into your sophisticated eastern speech?”

“Old west, midwest...” She shrugged. “The lady in one of my foster homes always said that. She was a good person, and her farm was the best time for me. It just slipped out.”

She was caught up in the memory and unaware of his eyes on her. “Were they good to you?” he asked softly.

“I guess. Her boys were decent, treated me like their kid sister... taught me how to ride and shoot.” She smiled. “I even learned to drive a tractor and run a combine. They were good times.” She nodded, then looked at him. “What’s the message?”

“We’re having a family get-together and you’re invited.”

Abby shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Not for a family occasion.”

“It might be better if you came with me,” he suggested.

“Oh really?” she said testily. “And why is that?”

“My mother could decide to get everybody down here to persuade you.” He grinned mischievously. “It would embarrass the hell out of you, I’m sure.”

Abby laughed. “You’re right. It might be easier to go quietly.” She looked down at the way she was dressed. “But I can’t, not like this.” She lifted her head to him. “You go back and tell Martha that I’ll be over as soon as I shower and change.”

“Oh, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll wait right here. I’ve got my orders.” He leaned against the newel post and folded his arms across his chest, obviously prepared to wait. He heard Abby sigh and go inside, and stretched his legs out, shutting his eyes to the bright afternoon sun.

When his mother had suggested inviting Abby to the gathering he’d found himself wondering how she would get along with his sisters, none of whom had met her yet. He had known how his brothers-in-law would react. They would probably fall all over themselves, he thought with a grimace, trying to make her feel welcome, especially Jared, who was an Anglo, like Abby, and would be thankful to have an ally. Annoyed with himself for not remaining silent, he had nevertheless volunteered to act as escort.

Now, when he heard the screen door creak, he opened one eye and turned to look at her. Except for the day of the board meeting, he’d never seen her in anything but jeans or cords; he noticed with a pleasant shock that two pretty terrific legs showed from beneath the skirt of her sundress. The dress itself was a shade of deep blue-green that brought out the color of her eyes, and its almost invisible straps displayed her smoothly tanned shoulders to their best advantage. Those poor guys don’t stand a chance, he thought. His brothers-in-law were goners. He uncoiled himself from the steps and waited for her to join him.

She looked at him with a touch of self-consciousness. “Is this all right?” she asked. “I didn’t know what would be appropriate for a family reunion.”

“It’s fine,” he answered curtly. He was thinking that she would be the hit of the party, and that if he could find a way of leaving without a fuss, he would.

The Tallman living room was full of faces, some familiar to Abby, some not. Feeling suddenly shy, she would have paused in the doorway and tried for a quick escape, but Cat placed his hand in the middle of her back and gave her an unsubtle shove. Martha came forward to put an arm around her shoulder and lead her into the center of the room.

“We’re having a party, Abby. My kids are here, and some of the cousins, and I wanted you to meet all of them.”

“I hate to intrude on a family occasion.”

“Nonsense! I already told them to consider you one of us.”

“And when Mom adopts you, you’ve got no choice but to stay adopted.”

Everyone laughed, and Martha hooted at the young man who had just spoken, but pulled him over. “This is my son- in-law, Jared. He belongs to my oldest, Connie, and he ought to know. He’s a paleface, just like you. But we let him into the family anyway.”

“Yeah,” agreed Jared, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I know all the family skeletons
--got me in with no trouble.” He pointed around the room. “You see anyone here you like, I’ll pass the info on to you.”

“Well,” Abby said with a laugh, “blackmail’s sure easier than walking through fire.”

Amid the general laughter Jared winked at her. “Go get ’em, kid.”

Out of the corner of her eye Abby could just make out Cat’s shadow, and she felt his displeasure.

How she and Cat ended up next to each other at the table was a mystery to Abby, though she suspected a lot of planning by Martha. In some ways the seating arrangement made things easier. Beyond the usual polite, “May I have the potatoes?” or “Would you pass the pitcher, please?” kind of table talk, they never looked at each other or conversed. Cat concentrated on the people to his right and Abby on those to her left, and they managed to ignore each other.

Except that every so often his arm would brush hers, or she’d hear him laugh and discover a lump in her throat. And once they both reached out for the bread tray at the same time, and his touch played havoc with her nerves.

Her apparent acceptance by his entire family bothered Cat more than even he thought it should. He could hear her deep in conversation with his two younger sisters. Particularly unsettling was the way in which Terry, the baby of the family and the most militant of them all, listened to Abby, responding thoughtfully and without her usual belligerence when her turn came to speak. Though they didn’t necessarily agree, they had, it seemed, found a way to communicate.

After the table was cleared and the dishes done, the group splintered, with people moving off to various parts of the house: Martha and her daughters to look at Connie’s baby; the men to watch television. Abby slipped outside to stand on the porch and watch the day end. The air was still, the sky slate-gray. Up and down the empty street, lights shone from windows and made bright patches on the dusty road. It felt good to break away from people and simply enjoy the silence. She heard the sound of the screen door, but didn’t turn around.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?”

Abby shrugged at Hank’s question. “I needed to be alone. I don’t do well in situations like that.” She nodded in the direction of the house.

“I don’t believe that. Whenever I looked over at you, you seemed to be doing just fine, having a great time with Nita and Terry. Everyone likes you.”

“I like them, too,” Abby agreed. “Especially the girls. They’re intelligent, sensitive, concerned. It isn’t them. It’s me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he argued. “You have every bit as much to offer as they do. More, in fact. I don’t like to hear you talk like this.”

She turned to him. “I’m sorry, Hank. I do appreciate your concern, but I’d like to be alone.”

He took her by the shoulders. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, and he went inside, unaware of the figure watching them from behind the lace-curtained front window.

Abby remained outside, trying to reason away the sense of loneliness being with this family had brought to the surface. Observing the love and caring between them, even being a part of it, only served to point up how very alone in the world she was, something she rarely allowed herself to consider for fear of succumbing to crippling self-pity. “That was a touching scene.”

Abby took in the voice; Cat’s unexpected appearances no longer surprised her, but his sarcasm set her teeth on edge. “Why do you do that?” she asked with annoyance. “What?” His tone was one of mock innocence.

“Attack. You’re always on the offensive.”

“You got in a couple of good shots yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tired of being a sitting duck,” she retorted. “From now on, if you want to take potshots at me, you’ll be aiming at a moving target.” She looked at him pointedly. “We’ll see just how good a marksman you really are.”

He grabbed her hand and held it tightly, asking with annoyance of his own, “How come you’re so feisty all of a sudden? Feeling kind of powerful now that you’ve won over my family?”