Straight From The Heart Page 7

  He grinned at her. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, lady, let me tell you something. You’re really hard to read sometimes. Maybe I come on too strong, but it just seemed right.”

  “It did seem right, but it was scary. I just need time.”

  “Take all the time you need. All I want is a chance.”

  Kim was positively glowing with joy. One moment everything seemed wrong, then poof! She was granted her every wish. “Are you serious?”

  “Like a heart attack, serious,” he stated strongly. “And I already know we’re not going to sleep together tonight, so don’t worry, I won’t ask.”

  Kim hid a smile behind her wineglass. “You can’t ask, slave,” she told him. “Only the master can ask.”

  “The master has made it quite clear how she feels.”

  “The master just needs to sort through some feelings and figure out where this is going.” Swallowing a sip, she decided to lay her cards on the table. “The master has to make sure the slave is hoping for some kind of long-term relationship, because that’s the only way it works for the master.”

  “The slave doesn’t jump from master to master like some people seem to think he does. The slave would like to hope for something more, too.”

  “Then anything’s possible, slave,” Kim said boldly, meeting his gaze.

  “Don’t tempt me, woman,” he growled.

  “Master,” she corrected.

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see,” he said with pure masculine ego, and they both broke into laughter.

  An hour later they’d finished washing the dishes and put them away when Stephen called Betsy’s number, feeling relaxed and at ease in a way he hadn’t been in what? Years? Kimberly Harden was a pure heaven. He could easily fall in love with her. He was halfway there already.

  “Hey, who’s this?” he asked, when he’d connected. “Chad?”

  Kim reached around him for the phone. He twisted to keep her out of reach, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and tickled.

  “Get your mom, Chad,” Stephen ordered, fighting back laughter. “What?” He went suddenly still. Sensing a crisis, Kim turned around to gaze into his eyes. His suddenly grim expression scared her. “When did they go?” Stephen demanded.

  “Who?” Kim mouthed. “Where?”

  “The emergency room?”

  That did it. On a cry she yanked the phone from his hand. Stephen let her, numb to the core.

  “What happened?” Kim demanded. “Chad, where’s your mother? Who went to the emergency room? Where’s Bobby?”

  “Jason and Bobby were in an accident,” Chad blubbered. “Mom and Dad are at the hospital. Nobody could reach you guys. Matt’s with ’em, too,” he added, referring to his older brother.

  “What kind of accident?” Kim asked faintly.

  “Car accident. They were just going down the driveway. Jason was taking them out for a Coke. Mom said it was okay, since Jason’s got his license now. A car just smashed ’em, but Matt’s okay.”

  “What about Bobby? And Jason?” Her knees were quaking. Dimly, Kim realized Stephen was holding her up.

  “They’re at the hospital. I don’t know.”

  Stephen pulled the phone from Kim’s unresisting fingers. Still holding her close, he asked Chad for further details. Finally, he hung up the phone and led Kim to the love seat where they both collapsed against each other.

  “Betsy will call as soon as she knows something,” Stephen said woodenly.

  Kim couldn’t think. She was consumed with fear. If she lost Bobby . . . “What was he doing in the car with Jason?” she asked, her voice trembling. “He shouldn’t have been there.”

  Stephen didn’t respond.

  Inside Kim an unfair voice told her that she should have stuck with her first instincts. She should never have gotten involved with Stephen at any level. It was bad karma. Some misalignment of the stars. Somehow, being connected to this man was a threat to her and Bobby.

  “I wish we’d never gotten this far,” she cried half-hysterically. “Bobby and I were fine without you in our lives!”

  Stephen turned his head as if her words physically struck him. Tears welled in Kim’s eyes. How stupid she was! But she couldn’t shake the feeling. It was a pall, and it wrapped around her and fed her most basic fears.

  Romance, which had been thick in the air a few moments earlier, vanished completely. She couldn’t think of anything to say to Stephen, and clearly, he felt the same way. They drew apart from each other and took turns pacing and waiting. In a dull fog Kim walked to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee that neither of them felt like drinking.

  Near midnight Stephen’s cell phone purred. He snatched it up and listened intently. As hot as it was, Kim shivered uncontrollably, and after a few terse words that told her nothing, he handed the phone to her.

  “Hello?” Kim said shakily.

  “Hey, Kimmy.” Betsy’s tired voice brought a new surge of pent up emotion. Kim closed her eyes, fighting new tears and a sense of complete fright. She felt like she was about to self-destruct. “Everything’s going to be okay,” Betsy assured her. “Bobby bumped his head against the dash, but he was seat-belted in. He’s bruised from where the seatbelt yanked against him.”

  “Is he—all right, then?” she choked.

  “Perfectly fine. He’s home with us tonight and waiting to talk to you. Here . . .”

  “Mom . . . ?”

  The sound of her son’s voice closed Kim’s throat. She could scarcely answer. “Hey, you,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “What? It’s okay. You’re okay, and that’s what matters.”

  “Yeah, but Jason’s still in the hospital.”

  Kim’s heart jerked hard. “He is?” Guilt raged through her. She hadn’t even asked about Jason, she’d been so immersed in her own worry and pain.

  “His arm broke, and the bone was all mangled.” Bobby sounded sick. “They had to operate.”

  She shot Stephen a look. He was staring into the charred remains of the fire, his expression stern. His fingers gripped the coffee cup as if it were a lifeline.

  “How is Jason?” she asked Bobby.

  “Okay, I guess. When are you going to be back?”

  “Tomorrow. As soon as the roads are clear.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Mad?”

  “Because I was in the car with Jason? I know you don’t want me to ride with teenage drivers, but we were just going to the store to get a Coke, and this guy came around the corner going about ninety!”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “You’re sure Jason’s all right?”

  “Uh huh. You want to talk to Betsy?”

  “Yes, please.”

  There was a brief hesitation. “I love you, Mom,” he said quickly, as if afraid to be heard.

  “I love you, too,” she said on a choked swallow.

  “I am so sorry this happened,” Betsy apologized. “I feel like it’s all my fault. I told Jason he could go to the store, and I guess Bobby popped in the car with him.”

  “It’s all right. It’s fine. Jason’s coming home tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I told Stephen. Is he okay, Kim? He sounded so monosyllabic, like he was mad or upset. I don’t know what to say to him.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “I had to call Pauleen. She was hysterical. I think she’s at the hospital now, but I’m afraid . . .” Betsy broke off. “Kimmy, she was drunk.”

  Kim winced. “Oh.”

  “I had to tell Stephen. Make sure he’s okay, huh? I feel terrible. Are you two doing okay?” she asked as an afterthought.

  “We’re coping,” Kim admitted, smitten with guilt. Stephen needed her support, not her accusations. Catching his eyes, she held the phone his way, but he shook his head so Kim finished her good-byes and hung up.

  “I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” Kim said awkwardly. “It’s not your f
ault, or Jason’s.”

  “I’d say it’s definitely Jason’s, as he was the driver,” Stephen pointed out grimly.

  “Please, don’t be like that,” Kim begged humbly.

  “You were the one who pointed out you’re better off not getting entangled with the Wrights.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Maybe you did, Kim. This whole weekend I’ve been trying to force a romance between us that you haven’t wanted.”

  “That’s not true!” she protested.

  “Let’s leave it, okay? I’m tired, and I just want time to pass so I can make sure Jason’s all right.” With a snort, he added, “The good news is my drunken ex-wife is there to make things right.”

  “Stephen . . .”

  Her plea went unheard because he walked outside to the porch. He was still standing there, back turned against her, when Kim finally headed, dejected and sad, off to bed.

  It was four o’clock in the afternoon before the water had receded enough for them to return to Riverside. Kim followed Stephen down the mountain and the outskirts of Portland where he turned off to the hospital while she headed on to Riverside and Bobby.

  At the Reeds’, Betsy hugged her so tightly Kim nearly suffocated. “It’s okay,” Kim assured her troubled friend.

  “Did Stephen go directly to the hospital?” To Kim’s nod, Betsy added despondently, “Some babysitter I am.”

  “Things like this happen. Stop beating yourself up over it. Besides, it could have been so much worse.”

  “Jason had barely gotten into the street when this car whipped around the corner and hit him broadside. I was so scared!” Betsy recapped the accident, finishing with, “Matt’s going to be sixteen in a couple of weeks. I am not looking forward to it.”

  Bobby burst into the room at that moment. At the sight of him, Kim gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead Ninja-style, and there was a huge dark smudge beneath his right eye, the beginning of a major shiner. Spying her expression, he grinned like a pirate. “Cool, huh? Jason’s getting out today. He’s got a cast on his arm. I’m going to sign it ‘B. Harden, Crash-Test Dummy.’ What do you think?”

  Betsy looked pained. Kim started chuckling. She couldn’t help herself. While Bobby eagerly awaited her answer, she simply folded him in her arms and squeezed him tight. This was not, however, the reaction he wanted, so he squirmed free and ran from the room, screaming like a banshee with the pure abandonment of a twelve-year-old boy.

  “Do you think I should call Stephen?” Betsy fretted.

  “Let him call you,” Kim suggested. “He will, as soon as he’s got a minute.”

  And will he call you? her needling mind questioned sharply.

  She had no clue.

  “. . . should’ve never let him have a license. He’s always been irresponsible. You should’ve done something before. A long time ago. It’s your fault, Stephen. Your fault, and I never, ever want to talk to you again! I hate you! I hate—”

  Click.

  Stephen glanced down at his finger on the End button of his cell phone, slightly surprised that it seemed to have exhibited a will of its own. Before the message had gelled in his brain, his finger had cut off Pauleen’s angry ranting. She was furious, but then, after a few drinks, she was always furious. People handled liquor in different ways, and Pauleen’s way was to be as obnoxious and flat out bitchy as possible.

  Jason sat in a chair in the living room, pale but upbeat. His left arm was casted from wrist to shoulder, set in an L-shape that made him look as if he were constantly flexing.

  “I swear, that guy was moving. One minute the road was clear, the next he was there, and he just smashed me.”

  “You’re lucky all you got was a broken arm.”

  “When do you think the car’ll be fixed?”

  Stephen almost smiled. Oh, to be a teenager and spend all your time worrying about cars. It was a simpler life.

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Can I drive the Jeep?”

  With a glance at Jason’s casted arm, Stephen said, “Not in the near future.”

  Jason’s expression darkened, but then he flicked on the remote control and lost himself in some evening television show. Without further delay, Stephen placed a call to Betsy, assured her that everything was fine and that he didn’t blame her for a thing, asked about Bobby, then fought the urge to inquire about Kim. Betsy was too distraught to pick up on the vibes, and that left Stephen alone, and lonely, with his thoughts.

  Drumming his fingers on the receiver, he considered calling her. She’d been upset, and she’d tried to apologize, but he’d been too raw and bullheaded to listen. Her accusations had hurt, like the ones she’d thrown at him on the courtroom steps. Maybe she was right. Maybe they were star-crossed, destined to only hurt each other.

  A moment later Stephen snorted in disgust. Was he nuts? When had he ever buckled under to superstition and nonsense? What was it about this woman that got to him so much?

  “I’ll be back in a while,” he told Jason in sudden decision. Then he stepped outside to an inky night sky and the chance to secure his future.

  Cradling a glass of wine, Kimberly curled her feet beneath her on her couch, conscious once more of her painted toenails. She’d remembered the name of the color: Pink Passion. It bugged the heck out of her.

  Her fireplace was the gas kind; it could be ignited with the flick of a switch. The air was still warm and thick and full of the heat of summer, but, feeling like a complete imbecile, she’d switched on the fire.

  She’d called Alan and told him about Bobby’s trip to the emergency room. He’d chastised her for letting Bobby drive around with some “stupid teenage driver,” and Kim had let him rave on rather than explain the circumstances. Alan wouldn’t have listened to that part anyway; he was too good at painting his own scenarios.

  Now, she just felt like taking a deep breath and putting some perspective in her life. Bobby was safe, Jason would be fine, and Betsy would eventually get over her case of the guilts. As for Stephen Wright . . . she shuddered when she remembered what she’d said to him. She owed him one whopping apology.

  B-br-brring . . . B-br-brring.

  Kim frowned at the sound of her doorbell. Who?

  Stephen! her heart cried out, and she rushed to the door, amazed that it was indeed the man she loved.

  The man she loved . . .

  “Stephen, I’m so glad you came. I owe you an apology,” she rushed to explain as soon as the door was cracked open. “I was so selfish and worried. I guess I’ve become an overprotective mother ever since—” She broke off in a gasp as Stephen took both of her hands, pulled her close, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

  “This is the start of a relationship,” he said after several heady moments of kissing. “A serious relationship that could very well end in marriage. Now don’t say ‘I can’t’ again, because each time you do, I’ll have to kiss you until you stop.”

  Kimberly closed the door behind them, leaning against it for a moment. Was she dreaming? It couldn’t be this good. Her lips curved upward and she said teasingly, “I can’t.”

  His mouth swooped down to capture hers. When he pulled back, he arched one brow, waiting.

  “You’re awfully cocky for a mere slave,” she complained.

  “This slave wants an answer: Are we going to start a serious relationship, or not?”

  “The master doesn’t want to be rushed.”

  “Tough,” he said, grinning. He kissed her again.

  “Hey, I didn’t say, ‘I can’t.’”

  That earned her another kiss that had her giggling and laughing in his arms.

  Footsteps pounded on the stairs, and Kim and Stephen broke apart like guilty teenagers. Bobby stopped dead, halfway down.

  “Mom! Are you dating Mr. Wright?”

  “Yes,” Stephen answered, to which Bobby started whooping and screaming in delight.

  “You shouldn’t ha
ve told him that,” Kim scolded. “You know he’s on his way to call Jason.”

  “Was I supposed to hide it? Kim, before long, the whole town’s going to know it. I am personally going to tell everyone I see.”

  “Maybe we should start with Betsy,” Kim suggested.

  “But first . . .” He tugged on her hand and drew her to the couch, cradling her in his arms and burying his face in the sweet-scented lushness of her blond mane. “I’m falling in love with you,” he admitted.

  “Oh, Stephen, I’ve been falling in love with you forever,” Kim declared in pure happiness. “I can’t believe this!”

  “Believe it,” he whispered, kissing her softly and tenderly.

  By the time they got around to calling Betsy, Kim believed with all her heart that she possessed Stephen’s love completely, just as he’d always possessed hers. No more questions or worries or misunderstandings. Their two lives were destined to be one.

  Winds of Change

  “He ain’t comin’ back, Dorry. It don’t take goin’ on two years to ride to Wyomin’, buy cattle, and drive ’em home. And you can’t stay here alone if I hafta leave. A hungry beast is a dangerous one, and old man Cleary’s starvin’ for you and this place. I think I covered my trail good, but there’s no tellin’ what’ll happen when spring thaw comes. I hafta stay ready to ride like lightnin’ if the law tracks me down. If I go, you hafta go, too, or Cleary will trap you.”

  “John’s my husband, Luke; I have to wait until I’m told for certain he’s dead. Besides, I have nowhere else to go since John’s parents moved back east after we left Colorado. This area is so secluded that outlaws haven’t troubled me. The Indians are no threat since they were brought under control in seventy-six, so I’m as safe here in North Dakota as any other place. I doubt the Arizona law will search for you this far away, and with your help, William Cleary will never get his greedy paws on me or my land. You will stay until John returns or news of his death arrives, won’t you?”

  “And let him call me out for . . . livin’ with his wife for three months? Watch him step in and claim the only woman I love and want?”