Once a Wife by Patricia Keelyn

CHAPTER SEVEN

Reece figured it was well past midnight.

The headlights of Sarah’s car swept over him as she pulled into the yard and parked near the side of the house. He sat in an old wicker chair on the porch, his feet propped on the railing, a half-empty tumbler of scotch balanced on one thigh. He’d been waiting for hours.

In the dark, he could just make out her silhouette as she got out of the car, grabbed her small overnight bag from the back seat, and then closed the door behind her. She moved toward the house and up the stairs, the graceful length of her skirt swaying about her legs.

“Pretty late, aren’t you?”

She jumped and spun around, one hand pressed to her chest. “Reece, you startled me.”

Setting the scotch aside, he dropped his feet to the floor and rose from his chair. “Sorry.” But he wasn’t. He’d wanted to shake her up a bit.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“Waiting.” He moved closer, and she took a step back.

“Waiting?”

“To see if you’d come back.”

She lifted her chin in that defiant manner of hers. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why indeed?” He moved a little closer, backing her up nearly to the door. “Especially since you’re so good at running away.”

Anger flashed in her eyes, but he was beyond caring. He’d been sitting out here thinking of her for hours, damning her for making him wonder whether she’d return. He should have been hoping she’d stay away for good. They’d all be better off. But as the hours had passed and she didn’t show, his anger mounted.

Damn it! Damn her! He wanted her here.

He lifted the single ebony braid that fell across her shoulder, rubbing it between his fingers. It felt like silk, and the faint scent of her shampoo assaulted his nostrils. He’d loved her hair, especially when it had spread across his pillow, its sleek darkness a sharp contrast to the white of the sheets.

“Why don’t you wear it down anymore?”

She stared at him, her eyes wide, like a deer caught by headlights, and shook her head. “It gets in the way.”

“Too bad.”

There had been a time when she’d only confined it for the rodeos. He brought the braid closer to his face, inhaling its scent while never taking his eyes off hers. She’d tormented him all week. Hell, the memory of her had tormented him for years. “You’re a witch.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Not enough.” Not nearly enough. He could still remember. Still want. It would take a hell of a lot more scotch than what he’d consumed to make him forget what it had been like to bury himself in this woman. Lust. If only it was that simple. But with Sarah, sex always got tangled with other things, feelings he no longer trusted. “Seems you bring out the worst in me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She took another step back, coming up against the door.

He let the braid slide through his fingers, the satiny texture catching against his callused flesh. “Don’t you?” He moved in closer, placing a hand against the wooden frame behind her.

She glanced at his arm, then attempted to sidestep him.

He stopped her by placing his other hand on the frame, effectively trapping her. “Not so fast.” For the past week, she’d been everywhere he’d turned, tempting him, teasing him with her scent and that slender female body of hers. She’d invaded his senses as easily as she’d invaded his home.

He wanted her.

God, how he wanted her. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d once walked out on him, or that her reason for being here had nothing to do with him. Just as it hadn’t mattered thirteen years ago that he’d been too young and unprepared for his intense sexual attraction to her. He’d given in to it then, too. And he’d paid the price.

“What do you want, Reece?” He recognized the breathless quality of her voice and let his gaze slide down to the pulse at her throat. It beat wildly, as he’d known it would, and he contemplated tasting her skin, feeling her pulse with his lips as he’d done dozens of times in the past.

“I think you know what I want,” he drawled, bringing his gaze back to her face, to her soft trembling mouth, then to her eyes—dark, frightened, and hungry. “Some things haven’t changed, have they, Sarah?”

She turned her head sideways, as though she couldn’t stand looking at him. “Everything has changed.”

He slid a hand down to capture her face and turn it back toward him. “Liar.”

Again, anger flashed in her eyes. He smiled slowly and moved closer, pressing her against the wall with his lower body. “If nothing else, we’ve always had this.”

“Reece …”

He ignored the plea in her voice and lowered his mouth to hers, but stopped just short of meeting it. “Yes, Sarah, what is it?” He rubbed against her, letting her feel how badly he wanted her, how hard he was for her, until her eyelids fluttered shut and a soft moan escaped her throat.

Only then did he claim her mouth.

For one breathless second, Sarah resisted, her hands coming up to push against his chest. But it was too late. She was lost. His mouth on hers was everything she wanted and feared. Pain and joy. Anger and desire. Hunger and heat. She felt it all, and forgot everything but the taste of him, the hot demanding feel of him. She melted against his chest, her tongue meeting his, her arms finding their way around his neck.

He moved his hands to her waist, tugged her blouse free from her skirt and slid them beneath the thin cotton fabric. The sudden intimate contact, his work-roughened fingers against her skin, sent a fresh wave of desire through her. She arched against him, reveling in his touch, so familiar and yet so new.

Too long.

It had been too long since she’d felt this way. This need, this ache. She wanted it to go on forever. His hands, his mouth exploring her body. She wanted it all. Here. Now.

A low angry growl escaped him, and he tore his mouth from hers. “Witch,” he whispered against her lips, while his hands moved upward to capture her breasts. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

Sarah wound her fingers into his hair and rose on tiptoe, tracing his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. “Now who’s the liar?”

“Damn you.” He slid his hands to her bottom, kneading and then lifting her to cradle his erection between her thighs. She rubbed against him, shifting her legs slightly apart so she could feel him against her.

“Damn you,” he repeated, then again claimed her mouth, roughly, his anger as evident as his lust. And Sarah basked in it, in once again having him hold her, want her, love her—

The thought brought her up sharp, instantly stilling the passion that had overridden her judgment. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let desire overwhelm her. Reece didn’t love her. Not anymore.

She pushed against his chest and broke the kiss. “Reece, stop!”

He let her put a fraction of space between them but didn’t release her. “Why?”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

His eyes flashed angrily. “I don’t like playing games.”

“This isn’t a game. Now let me go.” She twisted away from his hands.

“What’s the matter, Sarah?” Reece took a step back. “Can’t decide what you want? Again?”

She ignored the barb, knowing she’d let things go too far. “I don’t want this. It’s nothing but pure lust, and I won’t let you use me to ease the bulge in your jeans.”

He glared at her for a moment and then said, “There’s nothing pure about lust, lady. And if you think I have anything else to offer you, you’re sorely mistaken.” He spun on his heel and, in three quick strides, was off the porch and heading for the barn.

Sarah sank against the door, trembling, just barely holding back the tears brimming in her eyes. With an effort, she straightened her clothes, tucking in her blouse and smoothing her skirt. She hadn’t asked for this, she told herself. She didn’t need it. Not now. Not on top of everything else.

She watched as he led an unsaddled horse from the barn, mounted swiftly and headed toward the hills. Just the sight of Reece, leaning low over the neck of his horse, broke her resolve. Crumbling into a ball on the floor of the porch, she surrendered to her tears.

Reece rode long and hard, despite the darkness and the late hour. He needed to lose the memory of the past thirty minutes, the feel of Sarah in his arms, the taste of her mouth on his. He’d ride all night if that was what it took, but somehow, he had to forget what had almost happened.

As if he could.

It would be so easy to blame her. She’d bewitched him. Just as she’d done before. But the fact remained he could no more think with her around than he could thirteen years ago. Back then, he’d been little more than a loved-starved boy. He had no such excuse now.

He didn’t love her. Yet his body had its own thoughts on the matter. He wanted her. Still.

She had no right to be angry.

Yet every time Sarah thought of what had almost happened the night before, she wanted to throw something. Preferably something hard. And preferably at Reece Colby’s head. She’d come to the Crooked C to help their son. She’d even foolishly agreed not to reveal her identity to him, and where had it gotten her? Reece had dogged her every step, doubting her at every turn. Then, the first time they were alone, he’d backed her against a door frame and stripped away the last remaining shreds of her dignity.

She could hate him for that.

And for making her want him, for reawakening the passion she’d buried long ago. For making her realize how much she still loved him.

“I owe you an apology.”

Startled, Sarah turned from the window where she’d been standing, staring blindly at the yard below, for God only knew how long.

Reece sprawled in the doorway, tall, handsome, and far from repentant. Just the sight of him unnerved her, brought vivid memories of the night before. And sparked her simmering anger. Straightening her shoulders, she tucked her hands under her arms to hide their trembling. “Yes, you do.”

“Then I apologize.” He tipped his head slightly, but his mocking blue eyes held no contrition. It set her off.

“That’s not good enough.”

“Oh, really?” Sarcasm laced his voice. “And what exactly do you expect? Should I don a hair shirt? Or possibly get down on my knees and beg your forgiveness?”

“I want you to stay away from me.”

“Might be a little difficult under the circumstances.” The sarcasm had been replaced with a lazy drawl that sent shivers down her spine. She ignored it.

“Find a way,” she snapped. “I don’t want anything more to do with you.”

He stood stock-still for a moment, the mockery in his eyes growing hard and unyielding. “Don’t be so self-righteous, Sarah. You weren’t a totally unwilling participant last night.”

Heat flooded her face. “I’m … I hardly asked to be attacked on the porch.”

“Attacked?” He stepped into the room, and she instinctively backed up. Reece stopped short and raised both hands. “I won’t come any closer,” he said. Then with a sigh, he dropped his hands to his waist. “Look, I didn’t come up here to argue with you.”

“Then why did you come?”

He frowned and shook his head. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t.”

He shoved a hand through his hair. “Look, Sarah, you’re here to work with Drew and that’s all. Contrary to my actions last night, I have no interest in you other than as a tutor for my son.”

The comment stung, though it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know. She’d once had Reece’s love and thrown it away. More than that, really. She’d flung it in his face. How could she expect anything but contempt from him now?

“If last week is any indication,” he continued, “you and Drew are getting along well. I don’t want anything to come in the way of that.”

“Just stay away from me and nothing will.”

She turned back toward the window. As far as she was concerned, they had nothing further to discuss. And she didn’t want him to see how the past few minutes had affected her—her trembling hands and the tears brimming in her eyes. Being in his arms last night had been the closest thing to heaven she’d ever known. And the closest thing to hell. Somehow, she needed to put it behind her and go on. The only way she could do that was if he kept his distance.

“Hey, Dad.”

Drew’s voice startled her, but she remained by the window. She hadn’t realized that it had grown so late, or that Drew was due in from outside.

“Son,” Reece answered. “Done with your chores?”

Sarah closed her eyes, praying Drew would drag his dad off somewhere. She needed a few minutes alone.

“Yeah,” Drew answered. “Are you going with us out to the creek today?”

“Well, I …”

Sarah spun around and met Reece’s gaze, just barely stopping the adamant “no” that sprang to her lips. Instead, the steadiness of her voice surprised her as she said, “I’m sure your father has work to do, Drew.”

“But he promised,” Drew insisted.

“I didn’t exactly promise,” Reece said. Then to Sarah, he added, “Drew mentioned that the two of you planned to take your schoolwork out by the creek again today. I told him I might come along.”

“I hardly think that’s necessary.” She needed some space, and she definitely did not need Reece around all day. “Or a good idea, for that matter.”

“Oh? Why not?” He crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow, as if daring her to voice her reasons.

“Well …” She groped for words, though she knew Reece was very aware why she didn’t want him along. “We have a lot of work to do,” she said finally. “You’ll only be bored and end up distracting us.”

“But I did all my work over the weekend,” Drew said. “Did you check it?”

Sarah glanced at the pile of papers she was supposed to have checked for Drew. She’d told him that if he did his schoolwork while she was gone, they’d have a light day on Monday. She’d been sitting here all morning and still hadn’t managed to concentrate long enough to look over Drew’s efforts.

She returned her gaze to Reece, hoping he’d beg off. From everything he’d said, he didn’t want to spend time with her any more than she with him. But his focus was on Drew.

“Actually,” Reece said, “this might be a good chance for me to work with the Appaloosa.”

Drew’s eyes grew wide. “You’re going to take him out?”

“Why not?” He smiled faintly at Sarah, his eyes challenging her to come up with another objection. “He’s okay in the corral, but he needs to be worked out in the open. To see how he handles.” Then he turned back to Drew. “This way, I won’t exactly blow the afternoon off by coming with you.”

“All right! Can I ride him?”

Smiling broadly now, Reece rested a hand on Drew’s shoulder. “We’ll see.”

So much for Reece’s apology, Sarah thought, as he and Drew headed downstairs without bothering to see if she would follow.

It was an unlikely family outing, Reece thought, as he set out with Sarah and Drew for the creek. But then, they were an unlikely family. A woman who’d deserted her husband and infant son and then returned eleven years later looking for God only knew what. A man, unable to forgive or forget what she’d done, while still wanting her desperately. And a boy, caught in the middle.

It seemed ironic, the three of them riding out, Drew in the middle, chattering away, totally oblivious to the tension between the adults.

In truth, Reece would have preferred to let Sarah and Drew go off by themselves today. Getting a little distance from her would be best for both of them. She’d certainly made her feelings on the subject clear. She wanted him to stay as far away from her as possible. A stance he totally agreed with and would have been happy to oblige, except for his promise to Drew.

Glancing at his son, Reece noticed the ease with which Drew sat his saddle, as if he’d been born to it. Which, in a way, he had. He was the product of generations of ranchers who’d worked their herds on horseback, while in his veins ran the blood of his mother’s people, the best horsemen on the plains. It would have been surprising if Drew hadn’t taken to the saddle.

Strange that Reece had never thought of Drew in this way before. But then, there were any number of things Reece was just beginning to learn about his son.

Like how easy the boy was to be with.

With both Elizabeth and Sarah away from the ranch this weekend, Reece and Drew had ended up spending a lot of time together. Reece had worked alongside his son as he did his chores. The boy never questioned or complained, but did whatever Tod asked. It had struck Reece again how much more Tod knew about his son than he did.

Then, in the evening, Drew had asked for help with some math problems that Sarah had left for him. To his surprise, Reece had enjoyed explaining the intricacies of sixth-grade math to Drew. It had been heady stuff, watching his son grapple with and then grasp concepts. The pride he’d felt was unlike anything he’d ever known. That was when he’d agreed to accompany Drew and Sarah today. Reece was just discovering his son and couldn’t go back on his word. Especially when he’d looked into Drew’s eyes and seen how much it meant to him.

When they arrived at their destination, they dismounted, and Drew loosely tied his and Sarah’s horses well away from where they’d be working, making sure the animals had access to grass and water. Then Sarah and Drew settled under a sprawling tree to begin work.

Reece didn’t want to put the Appaloosa with the other animals. The stallion was still too unpredictable. So, holding the Appaloosa’s reins loosely, Reece headed toward the creek. It was a beautiful day, and Drew had picked a great spot. The stream descended from rocky hills of pine and aspen to cut through a meadow of lush grass and graceful cottonwoods. The crystalline water danced through rocky shallows and then settled into deeper pools.

He let the horse drink and then moved a little farther downstream. The warm summer day and the sweetness of the place had a soothing effect on him, inviting him to meander, to forget all his problems. After a moment, he stopped again, squatting down on the bank to dip his hands in the clear cool water. As he leaned forward, the Appaloosa nudged his back, rubbing the bridle against him.

“Cut it out, fella,” Reece said. He pushed at the big stallion’s head.

“Better watch out, Dad,” Drew called from behind him. “He really hates that bridle.”

Reece glanced back to where Drew and Sarah sat under a tree. Obviously, Sarah had been right. He was a distraction.

“You just go on with your studies, Drew,” he said. “I’ll take care of the horse.”

He turned back to the creek, reaching for a handful of water to splash over his face. But the Appaloosa once again nudged him, harder this time, throwing him off-balance. The next thing he knew, he was sprawled face first in thigh-high water. Sputtering, he struggled to his feet and glared at the stallion standing above him on the bank, the picture of innocence. Behind him, Drew and Sarah stared, wide-eyed. Then Drew’s hand flew to his mouth, but giggles erupted despite his obvious attempt to stop them. Sarah glanced at Drew, then at Reece, before she, too, grinned.

Reece couldn’t stop his own laughter. He must have been a sight. Soaking wet, with the big horse standing over him looking smug.

“You got me, you son of a gun.” Reece headed for dry ground, just barely grabbing his hat in time before the stream carried it away.

Still laughing, Drew scurried down the hill with Sarah right behind him. “I told you, Dad.”

“You sure did, son.” Reece took the reins and brought the horse’s head down close to his. “You tricky ol’ bastard. Well, just you wait. You’ll get yours.” The horse snorted and shook his head, and Reece lightened his hold.

“Well, I guess I know how I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon,” Reece said.

“How?” Drew asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Drying off.” Reece plopped his hat on his head, only to be drenched once again with a fresh sluice of water.

Drew nearly collapsed in a fit of hysterical laughter.

Reece watched him, shaking his head. How was he to know it was this easy to please his son? A dunk in a chilly mountain stream seemed to be all it took. Hell, if he’d known that, he could have saved himself and Drew a lot of trouble. They could come out here weekly just so Drew could watch his father make a fool of himself.

“You think this is funny, don’t you, boy?” Reece asked, trying to conceal his own amusement.

Drew nodded, still laughing, holding on to his stomach as if he’d fly apart if he let loose.

“Well, let’s see just how funny it is when you join me.” In one swoop, Reece had his squirming son in his arms, carrying him toward the water.

“Dad! No!” Drew struggled against his father’s hold.

Drew’s strength surprised him, and Reece had all he could do to keep his grip, but he strode back into the water, holding Drew for one tantalizing moment before dropping him. Drew let out a screech that echoed off the nearby hills as he hit the cold spring water. He came up laughing and splashing.

“Teach you to laugh at your old man,” Reece said, grinning down at his son.

“Oh, yeah. Just wait.” Drew launched himself at his father, and the two of them went down, sputtering and laughing as they both ended up in the water.

“So much for schoolwork,” Reece said, refusing to feel even a little bit guilty for distracting his son.

“Yeah.” Drew’s eyes were so full of life. Then he whispered, “Hey. What about Miss Hanson? Let’s throw her in, too.”

Reece had forgotten about Sarah. Looking back toward the bank, he saw her holding the Appaloosa, shaking her head at the two of them. “You’re both crazy,” she shouted.

Drew started toward the bank. “Let’s get her!”

Sarah backed away. “No way,” she said. “You and your father are plenty wet for all three of us.”

“Come on, Dad. Help me.”

Reece thought it was the best idea he’d heard all day. Drew had her hand by the time Reece reached their side. “I’ve got her, Drew. You get the horse.” He scooped her up and headed for the water.

“Reece!” she shrieked. “Put me down!” She struggled, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck, but she wasn’t nearly as hard to handle as Drew.

“I intend to,” he said with a grin.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Then how come you’re laughing?”

She made an effort to stop but failed miserably. “One of us needs to remain dry.”

Ignoring her protest, he reached the water’s edge and strode in without breaking stride. Then, looking down into her laughing brown eyes, something tightened within him. All at once he became aware of the distinctly feminine body he held in his arms, of her long slender legs and narrow back, the swell of her soft breasts pressed against his chest and the changes in her. The differences between this body and that of the young woman who’d been his wife. Her body had matured, filled out, and he ached to explore it.

“Come on, Dad. Dump her!”

Reece glanced back at his son, who’d trailed them to the water’s edge, and then again at Sarah. She’d stopped struggling and met his gaze. She felt it, too. He could see it in her dark sorceress eyes. Her hunger matched his own, and he grew instantly hard, despite the cold water.

“Reece,” she said again, her voice a breathless whisper. “One of us needs to remain rational.”

He thought about that for a moment, then decided he disagreed. For now, nothing that had happened before mattered. The day was bright and warm, his son’s laughter surrounded him, and Sarah was in his arms. “Why?” he asked. And dropped her into the water.

The splash shattered the moment.

“All right, Dad!” Drew cheered and then rushed in to join them.

Sarah grabbed his hand as he got close and pulled him down next to her.

For Reece, the next half hour, while all three of them splashed and laughed in the creek, had a bittersweet quality. At one point, he realized they were ruining their boots, but he didn’t care. His son’s hearty enjoyment mingling with Sarah’s musical laughter stirred a longing in Reece for things that couldn’t be. Things that went deeper than the physical need he’d felt for her last night.

Finally, worn-out and feeling like a drowned rat, Reece made his way back to the bank. He collapsed on the grass and pulled off his boots.

Sarah and Drew followed, but while she moved off toward the horses, Drew plopped himself on the ground next to his dad. “Sure glad you decided to go swimming,” he said.

“I didn’t decide to go swimming.” Reece cuffed him playfully on the arm. “That damn horse …” His voice trailed off as he glanced around, wondering what had happened to the Appaloosa, then saw that Drew had tethered the horse before joining them in the creek. Reece smiled. “Thanks for taking care of the Ap.”

“He would’ve run off otherwise.”

Reece reached out and ruffled Drew’s wet hair. “Yeah. He would’ve.” Drew had grown into a great kid, Reece thought. He wished he could take credit for it, but any number of other people had more to do with how the boy had turned out than Reece. Millie. Tod. Even Elizabeth. That was about to change, however. It was, in fact, already changing. From now on, Reece planned to be part of his son’s life.

“So what’s the verdict on schoolwork today?” Sarah asked as she joined them and handed Drew a package of crackers. “Here, Drew.”

“Thanks.” Drew took the snack.

The casual exchange between Sarah and Drew momentarily stunned Reece. Neither Sarah nor Drew had broken stride over Drew’s need to eat on a regular basis. Sarah had remembered and handed him a snack. Drew had taken it, seemingly without giving it a second thought. It was more the unconscious actions of a woman and child who’d spent their lives together than that of a teacher and her pupil. Sarah and Drew had become mother and son, despite Reece’s best efforts to prevent it.

Surprisingly, the thought made him smile. Then, glancing at Sarah, he answered her question, “My guess is that studying is pretty much a washout for the day.”

Sarah groaned and shook her head at his pun.

Climbing to his feet, he offered her his hand. “Come on. I think it’s time we headed back.”

“Next time,” she said to Drew as she let Reece help her stand, “we leave your father at home.” But she was smiling as she started gathering their belongings.

They took it easy going home. Riding in wet jeans wasn’t the most comfortable way to travel, but Reece suspected their reasons for going slowly had nothing to do with comfort. The day had turned out better than any of them had thought possible, and he suspected that none of them wanted it to end.

Drew was quieter than he’d been on the way out, probably because he was worn out. But every now and then, he’d pipe up with some remembered moment from the time they’d spent in the water. If nothing else, Drew had enjoyed himself.

As for Sarah, she smiled at Drew and laughed lightly at his comments. Other than that, she remained quiet, obviously lost in her own thoughts. Reece wondered what those thoughts were, but couldn’t begin to guess. He could see how easily she and Drew fit together after only a week. Possibly she was thinking the same thing. He couldn’t blame her. Each day she spent with them on the Crooked C, things got more complicated, and today had only aggravated the situation.

Still, he couldn’t regret the day or the fun they’d had together. It was how it could have been for the three of them if Sarah hadn’t run out on them. How it should have been. The thought came at him from nowhere, and he waited for the old resentment to surface. When it didn’t, he realized that a simpler emotion had taken its place. Disappointment.

When he’d married Sarah, he’d wanted very little from life. His wife. His son. To be a rancher. Evidently, it wasn’t meant to be. Today he’d had a little piece of that dream, a glimpse of what fate had stolen from him. That glimpse had ripped the anger from him, leaving only a treasured memory that he’d hold close to his heart. That, and the thought that maybe there could be some measure of peace between him and Sarah, after all.

But Reece’s serenity lasted only until they rode into the yard of the Crooked C and headed toward the barn. Because next to the corral, talking to Tod, stood Michelle.