Conard county conspiracy, p.20
Conard County Conspiracy, page 20
Grace laughed. “Three now?” She seemed to remember Jennie had been pregnant way back, but hadn’t thought about it.
“Yup, and they’re all hell on wheels. The youngest, Timmy, is way too young to ride yet, except on a pony, so the older boys can’t go ramming about on their horses because Daddy can’t take ’em out. Because of Timmy. Hell, they say the youngest child is always spoiled, but Timmy will never get the chance thanks to his older brothers.”
“Tough on him?”
“Oh yeah. They also don’t much like it when he keeps them from doing stuff because he’s so young. Not that we let that happen too often, but you wouldn’t believe it because of the way they complain.”
“Oh, I can believe it.”
Jenny raised a brow. “That’s right, you taught elementary school. Lots of experience.”
“Enough to know that many boys are more active and adventurous than most girls their ages. I’ve often wondered if that was social.”
“I’ll let you know if I ever get my daughter.” Then Jenny frowned. “Grace? I heard about your break-in. Are you getting scared? I would. First the barn and then this?”
“I’m not scared, at least not yet,” Grace said with determination. “I’m angry, though, angrier than hell. Scared might come in the middle of the night if this keeps up.”
Jenny nodded thoughtfully. “It seems like an awful lot. At least you have Mitch here. I wouldn’t want to be alone just now.”
“I’m grateful I don’t have to be,” Grace admitted, although it felt a little like weakness to lean on someone else. It had been different with John. They’d leaned on each other. Mitch didn’t seem to need anyone to lean on.
Jenny stayed long enough for Grace to make another pot of coffee, then they joined Mitch on the porch. Jenny sat where Mitch had been perched and looked up at him as he leaned against the porch railing.
“What do you think is going on here?” Jenny asked Mitch.
“Damned if I know.”
“But you don’t think it’s over,” she said, pointing to his shotgun.
“Don’t dare to. Not yet. All of this is moving closer to Grace.”
Grace drew a sharp breath. She hadn’t thought of it that way. That she might be targeted, yes. But that the threat was moving toward her, like a shark circling in the water? The idea went past property crimes, and for the first time a nearly overwhelming fear filled her. She also felt a little stupid for not thinking of this in such a way, not when it was as plain as the nose on her face.
“Do you really believe that?” Grace asked Mitch.
“Like I said, I don’t dare to assume it’s over. We both already knew that, though.”
Yes, they had. The threat hadn’t disappeared for her personally, not yet. It had been against her property, all of it. She had been convinced that it was all directed against scaring her, not against hurting her physically. But she hadn’t noticed the fact that it was indeed moving closer to her. All the way down the driveway, then the barn, then the house.
Jenny finished her coffee just as the bread finished baking. It was too hot to send a loaf with her, so Grace said, “Another time?”
“Any time you get another yen to do all that work, call me. I’ll be over as soon as it cools.”
Smiling, giving another friendly wave, Jenny departed. Grace watched her car pull away, and the darkening day seemed to grow darker.
The air delivered the strong smell of rain and the faint scent of ozone. The storm was coming.
“I need to get out and ride around again,” Mitch said.
“Are you sure you should? Lightning.”
“I haven’t seen any, nor heard any rumble of thunder. I promise I’ll take shelter under a tree if I see or hear any.”
Grace gaped at him. “You wouldn’t!”
Mitch laughed. “Gotta go. As many times as I’ve been through it, I still hate getting drenched.”
Feeling even lonelier, she watched him ride away. At least he had an oiled leather duster for protection.
* * *
She pulled the bread out of the oven and dumped each loaf onto a cooling rack, then set them upright. Pretty darn good, she decided as she looked at them. She hadn’t forgotten how. Then she went back out to keep watch.
Gusts of wind blew rain every which way, driving Grace indoors. The day had darkened until it seeped through the world like approaching night. Inside was even darker, and she didn’t want to open curtains, advertising to any watcher where she was in the house.
Which sounded paranoid, but that was where events had taken her.
In times past, she had always enjoyed storms like this. Unless she and John had been out with the sheep, the graying, wind-and-rain-lashed days had felt cozy. Time for a cup of hot chocolate, lots of laughter, and lovemaking.
That part of her stirred awake again. She wondered if she should be disturbed or feel disloyal. No. She knew as sure as she was walking around her house that John wouldn’t have wanted that. He’d been a generous man and, while his death had been totally unexpected, she knew him well enough to believe he would not have wanted her to spend the rest of her days in lonely grief. In emptiness.
Inevitably, her thoughts turned to Mitch and the desires that had begun to take on life. She had no idea if he might be feeling the same toward her. No idea at all.
But maybe he sensed he might be transgressing. Hardly surprising considering the distance she had placed between them.
She started the casserole heating for supper, the entire dish. It would be more than the two of them could eat, but she had no idea how hungry Mitch would be after riding in this rain. Rain was always cold. Almost icy.
When the squall line finally passed—it had sure taken a sluggish path over the house—the wind settled to more usual levels and stopped driving the downpour in every direction. Excuse enough to return Grace and her shotgun to the porch.
It would have been an opportune time, with the dark sky and flat light, for someone to have approached.
As she was emerging from her cocoon, she saw Mitch ride up to the barn. A wave of relief filled her. Knowing Mitch would take care of his horse before anything else, she went inside to heat water for instant cocoa. With a bit of cream, it tasted almost like the real thing.
Finally she heard Mitch’s boots on the porch. She ran to open the door and saw him dripping despite his duster.
“Did you go swimming?” she asked lightly.
“I thought I might need skin diving gear. Listen, I want to strip out here, so if you wouldn’t mind bringing me the bag I left on the mud porch so I have dry clothes, I’d appreciate it.”
She hurried to get the bag for him, along with a towel. “Dry off, too.”
He flashed a grin. “Now get inside unless you want to see me as naked as the day I was born.”
She wouldn’t have minded that at all. In fact, she quickened between her legs. But he deserved his privacy, so she went back to the kitchen to wait. She could imagine the sight well enough anyway, and a sigh escaped her.
While she waited, the phone rang. Guy Redwing was on the other end.
“We researched that big cattle operator who tried to buy your operation earlier this year.”
“And?”
“Their business practices appear to be aboveboard. No complaints anywhere from property owners. In fact, no complaints or disputes about their contracts, either. Whatever hijinks they might be up to are buried within the corporation itself.”
Grace’s stomach sank. She had hoped for information the sheriff could work on. “I wish I could say that’s good news.”
Guy sounded sympathetic. “I hear you, Grace. We’ll keep looking. You know that. We want to solve this problem as much as you do.”
The nice part of living in an underpopulated area was the attentiveness of police. She was sure they wouldn’t drop this because they couldn’t immediately find good information.
Although how they would, she couldn’t begin to imagine.
Mitch entered the kitchen barefoot but otherwise covered in dry clothing, a khaki safari shirt with faded jeans.
“I’m going to let my stuff hang out front to finish dripping, then I’ll beg for the use of your laundry.”
She smiled. “What would you do if I said no? Of course you can use them.”
She turned to the boiling water on the stove, switched off the gas flame, waiting for it to cool just enough so she wouldn’t singe the dry milk in the mix. “Cocoa?”
“Sounds great.”
She heard the chair slide away from the table as he sat. She didn’t turn around immediately because she was having just a bit of trouble breathing and she didn’t want to devour him with her eyes.
Dang, where had this come from? It was rising in her like a powerful tide. She needed to resist it for Mitch’s sake. What if she embarrassed him? A good friendship might die.
At last she felt comfortable enough to sit with him. She avoided his gaze for a few minutes longer, though.
“This is good,” Mitch told her after he’d sipped. “A package mix made this?”
“Cream helped make it richer.”
“I’m sold.”
What a mundane conversation. “Guy Redwing called. Nothing about the company that approached us seems problematic.”
He sighed. “I should have been smarter than to hope it would be that easy.”
Now she did look at him. “Then what?”
“I don’t know. I’m running out of suspicions, not that I had many to go on at the start.”
A grim prospect indeed. Where did all of this go from here?
Nothing seemed promising.
* * *
Mitch insisted on cleaning up the cups and pan. When he turned around he found Grace right behind him.
He saw the heat and longing in her gaze and was almost afraid to believe it. Good God, was it possible? And why him?
No, it wasn’t possible. He didn’t dare risk the fragility of whatever was growing between them. Too quickly, too soon.
Then she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Don’t hate me,” she whispered. “Just hold me.”
Hate her? That could never happen. Without a word, he surrounded her shoulders and held her close. He would have held her even closer except he didn’t want it to feel like a squeeze.
But his body, damn his body, was reacting to her in the most obvious way possible. Her face rested against his shoulder, a trusting gesture, and he half expected her to break into tears.
She didn’t, though. She turned her face up to his and said one simple word. “Please.”
Chapter 17
Mitch’s head nearly exploded in response to this unexpected development. He could feel her shaking like a leaf against him and couldn’t mistake how much courage that one word had required of her.
All he could do was tighten his hold. “You sure?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
Grace might be using him to make her first step back to a fuller life, just a stepping-stone, but he didn’t care, not at this moment in time, with her leaning into him. Regardless, he couldn’t reject her, no matter how gently, and leave her feeling unwanted.
Well, he didn’t want to reject her. Not at all. Barely formed desires had erupted inside him and he wasn’t going to walk away. If persuasion of some kind was needed afterward, then, damn it, he’d worry about it then.
He doubted her steadiness, so he lifted her in his arms to carry her back to her bedroom. She was too light, too much like a bird in his arms. Fragile.
He was almost afraid he might hurt her. He was equally uncertain of himself. It had been a while, and he feared he might be rusty.
Sitting her on the edge of her bed, he knelt and gazed into her blue eyes. They appeared almost smoky just then.
He had to know before he laid a finger on her. “Grace. You can say no. Now or later.”
She gave a jerky nod but did nothing to send him on his way.
His own hands shook a bit as he reached for the top button on her simple checked shirt. He wished they were snaps but opening the buttons one at a time gave her another opportunity to back off. She didn’t. Instead while he released the buttons, she lifted her hands to his shoulders. Inviting him.
He was leaping off a cliff with no idea what lay below.
His worries soon slipped away as he revealed the beauty hiding beneath her shirt. Her full breasts were encased in a lacy confection that surprised him. She was always dressed in work clothes, and he hadn’t expected to find she had a secret liking for special undergarments.
His mouth dried a bit as he pushed the shirt from her shoulders and reached behind her to release the clasp of her bra. More beauty filled his gaze, large pink nipples rising from the smooth skin of her breasts. So enticing.
He murmured her name, overwhelmed by the desire that pounded through him. How long had he wanted her? It was a question that needed no answer, even as the longing began to be answered. All that mattered was that he wanted her now, and that she seemed to feel the same.
He brushed his thumbs over the peaks of her breasts and wished his hands were smoother, as she surely deserved. Glancing up at her face, he saw her eyes closed, her entire face growing softer than he’d ever seen her look.
Her breath came faster, too, another lure that wrapped around him like a spell. Ensorcelled, he could be stopped by nothing now, except a protest from her. But she didn’t protest, merely leaned back on her hands, welcoming and inviting.
Too much. He rose and began stripping away the clothes that he’d donned such a short time ago. Her eyelids fluttered open and she smiled sleepily as she watched.
Heaven had just entered the room along with rising musky scents.
* * *
Grace watched him strip, her heart jumping and accelerating until she was sure the last air had been sucked from the room.
He was gorgeous, she thought hazily. More gorgeous than her imaginings. Hard muscle from work created a captivating body, so masculine and perfect in every way. A few scars nicked him here and there, but they only added to his desirability.
He was ready for her. So ready.
She throbbed achingly at her center and could hardly wait for his weight to cover her. She needed nothing further to make her eager, and resented the delay.
But there was more. He knelt again, leaning forward to take her nipples into his mouth, sucking so strongly that the pleasure dived through her, coalescing in her core.
His fingers reached for the snap of her jeans, and she didn’t appreciate the last impediments that needed to be removed. He pulled her jeans down until they rode her calves, then pulled her boots off in swift, easy movements. So strong!
At last her jeans were gone, and only a wisp of panties stood in their way. Once again, he pulled back to look at her.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he muttered. Then he reached for her delicate panties that matched her bra.
The moment she was naked, she basked in his hungry eyes, in his faint smile. Then he moved between her legs, teasing her breast with his tongue, reaching out to stroke her petals with gentle fingers.
The last of the world was lost in an explosion of magic so powerful it hurt.
Need. She became a needy vessel, impatient for him.
“Mitch,” she groaned.
With a slow, steady movement he slipped inside her, carrying her ever upward to the stars. She fell back, giving herself completely over to his ministrations, so thrilled by the feel of him deep inside her that she came close to losing her mind in pleasure.
He pumped into her, caressing her sensitive nub with his finger, driving her upward to heights that felt new to her, fresh, as if she had never visited them before.
“Grace...”
Her name reached into her, filling places she’d hardly been aware of.
Need. She was needy and rose ever higher until she trembled on the peak and tipped over, a climax so strong it nearly hurt.
* * *
Mitch felt the exact moment of her culmination, and drove one more time, hard, so hard he could barely stand it. Then he followed her into the slow fall on the far side.
He fell forward, his face resting on her midriff, satisfied as he was sure he’d never been satisfied before.
Then, at last, some strength poured into his muscles. Just enough.
He rose, lifting her until she was under the comforter on her bed. Moments later he fell beside her and took her into his arms, hugging her tightly.
He felt blessed.
* * *
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. At the moment, time no longer mattered to Mitch. When Grace stirred, he asked huskily, “You okay?”
“Better than,” she whispered in response. “Far better.”
Happiness flooded him. Joy. When had he last felt as high as a kite? He couldn’t remember. Life so seldom left room for it.
“Me, too,” he answered. “Me, too.”
She snuggled closer, offering him a trust that made his throat tighten.
“Grace,” he murmured again.
Her fingers touched his lips. “Shh. Let perfection be.”
Perfection? The word crashed through him like thunder. Then he realized she was right. Perfection. She shared the feeling with him. He couldn’t have asked for more.
* * *
Eventually, because eventually always came, they rose and dressed. Hands touched lightly, a few kisses were exchanged but reality had begun to creep into the room once more.
There might be a threat out there, and neither of them could ignore the possibility for long.
