Authors: Cathy McDavid
Evidently so. She skimmed her fingers over his stomach, let
them drift upward through the hair on his chest. Stopping over his heart, she
laid her palm flat and exhaled slowly.
“Dallas.” He placed his hand atop hers, incapable of saying
more than her name. For several moments, they didn’t move.
“I want you, Conner,” she whispered. “Do you understand?”
He did. Because he wanted her to the very center of the heart
both their hands covered.
“Show me,” he told her.
She reached for his erection.
“No. Not that. Show me
you.
”
After a moment, she nodded and presented her back to him.
“Unzip me.”
He did, his fingers fumbling.
The slinky dress came away, like the petals of a flower opening
to the sun.
She wore some sort of one-piece bra and panty combo that was
made of the sheerest material Conner had ever seen. It left little—and
everything—to the imagination. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to take it off.
Then she did, squirming out of it in a seductive dance that
sent his blood coursing through his veins.
When she finished, she sat on the bed before him, her legs
tucked under her, every vulnerable and voluptuous inch of her exposed.
“You’re mine,” he said.
“Always.”
He wasn’t certain which one of them moved first. At the same
moment Dallas drew him down onto the mattress, he covered her body with his,
their mouths meeting in a hungry kiss, his hands already roaming.
She arched, shifted, opened herself to him, and he committed
every touch, every sound, every taste of her to memory. Her tiny moans and gasps
of excitement were like a magic elixir, healing the ragged tears in his soul and
making him whole again.
He groaned when her fingers skimmed his ribs, and then cupped
his buttocks. Lifting her hips, she rubbed herself against him. He shot like a
rocket straight to the edge.
She let go of him and reached for the condom.
“Not yet.” Speaking required tremendous effort.
“You’re ready.”
“You’re not.”
He brought his head to her breasts, filled his hands with the
pliant mounds and teased the nipples with his teeth and tongue.
She moaned, and her head collapsed onto the pillow.
“Am I hurting you?”
“Yes. No. I’m tender.” Another low moan escaped her. “Just keep
doing what you’re doing.”
He was happy to, until temptation won over. Starting in the
sensitive valley between her breasts, he forged a path of damp kisses that ended
at her rounded tummy.
She jerked and tried to push him away.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not...my belly isn’t flat anymore.”
“Your belly is gorgeous.” He splayed his hand across it and let
it remain until she relaxed. “Don’t think otherwise.”
“I can’t help being self-conscious.”
“There isn’t anything about you or your body that isn’t a
complete and total turn-on for me.”
His hand ventured to where her legs joined, and parted them.
Carefully, then with increased vigor, he stroked her moist center, first with
his fingers, then his mouth. He was more than content to satisfy her this way
for as long as she wanted. Till she came apart.
She writhed, trembled, and he sensed she was nearing her peak.
Suddenly, she grabbed his arms and drew him up until they were once again
face-to-face.
“I want you inside me.”
Who was he to disappoint her?
Sheathing himself in the condom, he entered her slowly. She
wrapped her legs around his middle.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“Very.” She arched into him, urging him on.
“Look at me.” He thrust deeper, but still slowly.
She did look, and when she saw him, really saw him, he
increased his momentum. Her climax was swift and complete and stunning to watch.
Only when she started to return to him did he let go. She was still trembling
with aftershocks when he buried himself deep in her one last time, the force of
his release leaving him weak.
He fell on his side next to her, his heart beating like a giant
fist pounding his chest.
“Are you okay? No pain?”
“I’m a whole lot more than okay.” She rolled toward him,
snuggled into him and flung an arm over his middle. “I’m exactly where I should
be.”
“You are.” He wasn’t referring to her bed or in his embrace. He
hoped she knew that. “I want to see you again.”
“You will.”
“I’m talking about a date. Movies, a concert. Not at the ranch,
when you happen to be stopping by for work.”
“If you insist.”
He felt her smile against his neck. “Tomorrow?”
“I’m having dinner at my parents’.”
“I like your parents.”
“Are you trying to wrangle an invitation to dinner?” She
propped herself up on one elbow to stare pointedly at him.
“Am I succeeding?”
“I’m sure Mom will be delighted.”
“It’ll give me an opportunity to thank your stepdad for his
help.”
“Luckily, you don’t need any more contacts.” She pressed a kiss
to his lips, let her tongue trace the outline. “Since you’re going to be Sonoran
Bottling’s newest systems analyst.”
Conner didn’t correct her as he’d been doing. He was applying
her advice and thinking positively. It had worked great the last hour.
“Tired?” he asked.
Her fingers were painting lazy patterns on his chest and her
eyes, he noticed, had drifted closed.
“No, content.”
She sounded it.
“It’s late. I don’t want to keep you up.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Are you tired?”
“Not at all.” If anything, he was energized.
“Good.” She pushed him onto his back and slid her body onto his
so they were once again heart to heart.
Conner approved of the change.
Her hands, ever curious, went on a mission to completely
familiarize themselves with him. Any residual shyness was completely gone. He
was starting to anticipate where things were going to lead when an unexpected
visitor plunked down onto the bed right beside them.
Conner turned his head, only to encounter two golden eyes and
an angry hiss. Charming, apparently upset that there was an intruder in his
personal territory, was displaying his less than charming side.
“Sorry.” Dallas tried to dislodge the cat and send him on his
way.
The little beast would have none of it, turning himself into a
solid and unmovable object. Then, with another small thunk, Snow White appeared.
She instantly started swatting Charming’s tail, which twitched angrily.
Conner decided he liked the dozing Sleeping Beauty best of all
of Dallas’s cats.
“Honestly,” she complained, giving Charming another push. “I
can’t figure out what’s gotten into him.”
“It’s all right. They can have the bed.” Conner swung his legs
onto the floor. Grabbing her hand, he hauled her to her feet. “We can go
elsewhere.”
“Like?” Her smile grew.
“Wherever you want.”
They ended up in the shower, where they played beneath the
water’s spray. Afterward, wrapped in towels, their hair still wet, they padded
to the living room. His target was the couch. Hers was the rug in front of the
unlit fireplace. He let her choose.
When he next came over, Conner thought, he’d bring wood and
light a fire, then make love to her in the golden glow of the flames.
Tomorrow, perhaps. After dinner with her parents.
For the first time in a very long time, Conner’s future
contained endless and exciting possibilities.
And it was all because of Dallas.
Chapter Thirteen
Dallas gripped the steering wheel of her Prius so
tightly her fingers cramped. Would the darn stoplight ever change to green? When
it finally did, she hit the gas, wishing for once she owned an eco-
un
friendly fuel guzzler with decent get-up-and-go.
In her favor, there were only stop signs between here and
Powell Ranch. She wanted to arrive before the elderly gentleman in order to
capture his expression on film when he saw the mare and colt for the first
time.
Hard to believe someone had finally stepped forward after
nearly two weeks, claiming not only to have information on the mare but to be
her owner. According to Conner, the man had pictures and registration papers to
prove it. She’d be interested in seeing them.
Along with everyone else, she’d become attached to the horses
and had an emotional stake in their future. It was imperative they be returned
to their rightful owner. The man’s expression when he saw the mare and colt
would go a long way in convincing Dallas.
She was also looking forward to seeing Conner. They’d found a
chance to be together at least a few hours every day since the charity event
last Saturday. Each moment had been a whirlwind of excitement. She didn’t know
where things would ultimately lead, and tried not to dwell on it. Eventually,
they’d have some decisions to make. Like when and what to tell Richard.
If he chose to, he could make things difficult for her and
Conner. He already suspected something. He’d called just this morning for no
reason in particular, and then again a few hours later. When she questioned him,
he said he was concerned. That there was a difference in her voice.
A difference?
If Richard had noticed one small change in her, were others
noticing, too?
She and Conner probably wouldn’t be able to hide their
relationship for much longer. That was fine with Dallas. When they were both
ready, she was going to shout it to the world.
For now, she chose to concentrate on his job. The interview at
Sonoran on Tuesday had gone well. Very well. While Sunday hadn’t formally
extended the offer—something about passing it by the board first—she’d inferred
he had the job.
He had to be going crazy waiting to hear. Dallas was on pins
and needles, jumping every time he called or texted. Maybe he’d get word this
afternoon, and she’d be lucky enough to be with him. Then they’d
really
celebrate.
One less hurdle for them to overcome.
She still couldn’t believe how accepting Conner was of the
baby. Perhaps by the time she gave birth, they’d have such strong feelings for
each other, be so secure in their relationship, that Richard’s presence in their
lives wouldn’t make a difference.
The white SUV Dallas had been following for over a mile turned
in to the drive leading to Powell Ranch. She slowed, and when they reached the
office, parked alongside it.
Grabbing her camera bag, she bailed out of her car, and came to
a stop. A young woman was assisting an elderly man from the SUV, situating his
walker in front of him so that he could support himself as he stood. Dallas
placed him in his late eighties, if not early nineties.
This had to be the owner of the mare. Supposed owner, she
reminded herself. The photos and registration papers would determine that for
sure.
She went up to them and smiled, something inside her softening.
The pair didn’t strike her as horse thieves or media thrill seekers, and there
had been a few of those since the story broke.
“Hi, I’m Dallas. I work with the Powells. Are you by chance
here about the mare and colt?”
“We are,” the woman answered brightly, helping the man maneuver
his walker over the uneven ground. “I’m Marjorie. This is my grandfather, Darius
Edenvane.”
“Welcome to Powell Ranch.” She fell into step with them. “If
Gavin’s not in the office, you can wait there while I find him.”
“I want to see my horse,” the man said, his gravelly voice
firm.
“Grandpa, shouldn’t we meet with Mr. Powell first?”
He shook the walker, which had become stuck on a rock. “I can
meet him in the barn just as easily.”
“I’m sorry,” Marjorie said. “When Grandpa makes up his mind,
there’s no changing it.”
“No problem.” Dallas pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’ll
have Gavin meet us at the mare’s stall.”
“Thank you, young lady.” He gave his granddaughter a smug look.
“See? She doesn’t think I’m being difficult.”
Marjorie simply smiled.
Dallas guessed the two had frequent arguments of a similar
nature.
As they walked, she spoke to Gavin, who informed her that he
and Conner would be right there. Her heart gave a small start at the mention of
Conner. It had been only this morning since she’d seen him, and yet she couldn’t
wait.
Gavin and Conner were standing at the mare’s stall when they
arrived. Dallas made introductions, her gaze continually going to Conner. His
smile lingered on her in return.
The elderly man and his granddaughter were oblivious, their
attention elsewhere.
“Look, Grandpa. It’s her,” Marjorie said, her plain face made
pretty by delight and amazement.
“I have eyes in my head. I can see it’s her.” Despite his
grumpy protest, he was visibly moved.
The mare stuck her head over the stall door and sniffed at the
man. First his sleeve, then his head. Snorting happily, she bumped him with her
nose.
“Chiquita,” he muttered affectionately, and stroked her face
with his gnarled hand. “That’s a good girl.”
“We found her. I can’t believe it.” His granddaughter wiped her
damp eyes. “We looked for months. Hated giving up but we had no choice. We just
kept hoping she’d come home.”
“How long has that been, Mr. Edenvane?” Gavin asked.
“Two years this January.”
The timing coincided with what the vet had said about the
length of time Chiquita had likely been roaming in the wild.
Distracted by the scene unfolding in front of her, Dallas
almost forgot her camera. She hastily removed it from the bag and shot picture
after picture, the most charming of which was the mare resting her large head on
the man’s shoulder. If he hadn’t been grasping the walker, the weight would have
toppled him.
Her own misty eyes made seeing through the viewfinder
difficult.
“What a fine baby you have,” he said. “Come here, little
fellow.”
The colt had edged closer, curious about the new visitors. When
the elderly man tried to pet him, he instantly darted behind his mother. After a
moment, he inched forward once more, nostrils quivering. When the elderly man
tried to pet him again, he allowed a single brief touch.
Dallas was shocked. Up till now, the only person who’d gotten
close to the colt was Conner, who’d been working with him daily.
“If you want, we can trailer the horses to your place.”
Apparently Gavin didn’t need to see any proof, either.
“Nothing I’d like better.” Mr. Edenvane gave both horses
another fond pat. “But my ranch got to be more’n I could handle, even with my
granddaughter and her family living with me. I sold it off a year ago.”
“We’d be happy to keep her here until you find a new home for
her or sell her.”
Sell her? Dallas was prepared for the mare and colt to go to
their rightful owner, or even a friend of the owner. But sold? To strangers?
“Don’t suppose you have any interest in buying her?” the
elderly man asked. “Seeing as she’s from some of the same original stock as your
horses.”
“She is?”
She was?
“Her lines go back sixty years. To the original mustangs that
roamed this valley. We read up on you and your ranch before we came. On the
internet. I know nothing about computers and have no intention of learning at my
age. But Marjorie here’s a whiz.”
“You do a lot of great work for wild mustangs,” she said, her
gaze encompassing everyone. “I don’t think Chiquita and her son could have a
better home.”
Please, please say yes!
“Sir, I’d very much like to own Chiquita. I’ll pay you a fair
price for her.”
“The money’s not important. But I do have a condition. I’d have
to be able to come visit her whenever I had a hankering.”
They shook hands. “You’re welcome anytime.”
Dallas held back the tears. She felt Conner’s touch on her arm
and shrugged, as if to make light of her weepy display. He winked, letting her
know she wasn’t fooling him.
“We brought her papers,” Mr. Edenvane said.
“Why don’t we go inside? Have a cold drink.”
“Don’t suppose you have something a bit stiffer? Marjorie’s
always hiding my Jack Daniels.”
“Oh, Grandpa. I only hide it because of the kids.”
He harrumphed.
Gavin chuckled. “No Jack Daniels, but I might have a bottle of
Jim Beam tucked away.”
“I think you and I can be friends.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Before we go in, I’d like to see that mustang stallion of
yours. If you don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind at all.”
Mr. Edenvane ran his gnarled hand along Chiquita’s neck one
last time, pausing at the healing wound. “They ever find the son of a bitch who
did this to her, I swear I’ll wring his neck.”
“I’ll be in line right behind you,” Gavin said.
They started down the barn aisle.
“It’s a ways to Prince’s stall.”
“I can make it.”
When no one was paying attention, Conner brushed Dallas’s
fingers. She would have liked to take his arm, but they weren’t ready for public
displays of affection.
Telling Gavin, Ethan and Clay was another of those hurdles
looming in the distance.
Frankly, she wasn’t completely confident of their response.
They’d probably be happy for their friend. They did like Dallas, after all. But
they might worry about Conner taking on too much by dating a woman carrying
another man’s baby.
They wouldn’t be out of line, either. Dallas imagined all their
family and friends would feel the same.
* * *
“I
COULD
BE
WRONG
, but I think that colt is out
of your stallion.” Mr. Edenvane sat on the living room couch next to his
granddaughter. He sipped a whiskey while she drank iced tea.
“We’ll know soon.” Dallas had told them about the DNA testing
on the colt after Mr. Edenvane had seen Prince and remarked on their
resemblance.
To her, the colt looked like his mother. Mr. Edenvane saw
things she didn’t. The shape of the colt’s head. His body structure. His
temperament.
“The vet’s expecting the results any day,” she continued.
“Will you call me when you hear?”
“Absolutely,” Gavin assured him.
He stood next to the wingback chair where Sage sat holding
Milo. The baby sucked his thumb and stared at the twirling ceiling fan,
disinterested in anything or anyone else. Dallas and Conner were squeezed
together on the love seat. Another time, she might have been acutely aware of
his nearness. Today, Mr. Edenvane had her full attention.
She couldn’t say why she found him so fascinating. Despite his
withered and frail body, his eyes were bright and intelligent and his wit sharp
as a tack. She’d love to take his picture in a different setting other than the
barn. His granddaughter, too. The way she gazed at him with respect and
devotion...there was a story there.
“Tell us about Chiquita,” Conner prompted. “Where did you get
her?”
“Had her parents. Grandparents and great-grandparents, too.
They came with the ranch when I bought it.”
“You aren’t from here?”
“West Virginia born and raised. Moved my wife and boys out here
in the mid-fifties, I guess it was. When I bought that place, there wasn’t so
much as another shack for twenty miles.”
Mr. Edenvane’s ranch was on the east side of the McDowell
Mountains, near the Verde River. Chiquita had traveled far in her
wanderings.
He took another sip of his drink. “I was told by the man I
bought the place from that he traded with the Pimas for the horses. In those
days, mustangs were still roaming all over these parts. About the time I bought
the ranch is when they disappeared for good. Or so the stories go.”
Something in his tone made Dallas curious. “You believe
differently.”
“I saw them. Horses. Plenty of times.”
Dallas scooted to the edge of her seat cushion. “Tell us about
it.”
“In the mountains. Along the river. On the reservation. Always
a small herd, six or eight head. They’d come to my ranch when water was scarce
and vegetation lean. After they busted down my fences enough times, I started
putting hay out for them. Be gone the next morning, every last stalk. They
disappeared about ten years ago.”
“Only ten years ago?” She turned to Conner. Prince wasn’t much
younger than that.
“Bud Duvall has a story like yours,” he said.
“I know him. A cattle rancher. His son owns that rodeo
arena.”
“Bud and his father rescued a small herd when he was just a
boy,” Conner continued. “They kept the horses, incorporated them in their
breeding stock. That had to be...forty years ago.”
“Lots of ranchers did back then.”
“But you saw horses more recently.”
“Don’t know where they went. I guess too many houses being
built for their tastes. Except for your stallion.” He nodded at Gavin. “I’m
willing to bet he’s from that herd. The last one.”
The room went utterly quiet.
Gavin rubbed a knuckle along his jaw. “There’s no way to know
for certain.”
“Have Prince DNA tested.” Everyone looked at Dallas. “There are
plenty of horses here on Powell Ranch related to the original wild
mustangs.”
“How much can the DNA test tell?”
“Ask Dr. Schaeffer.”
“Can you call him?” Sage suggested. “It would be nice to find
out while Mr. Edenvane and Marjorie are still here.”