Against the Wind (14 page)

“Jackson found them in the top of the barn.”

“You were always good at decorating. I remember your bedroom when we were kids. The whole place was done in pink and white. You had a pink-and-white-striped dust ruffle and a matching pink comforter on the bed. You even painted pink flowers on the old antique mirror above your dresser. I loved that room. It was so
girlie.
”

Sarah laughed. “It was, wasn't it?” She ignored a bittersweet pang at the memory of the happy days when her parents were still alive.

Nan walked over to the window, looked out to where Jackson and Jimmy Threebears were working. They had the hood up on one of the older ranch pickups, which apparently had broken down.

“How are things going with Jackson?” Nan asked.

Something warm unfurled inside her at the mention of his name. Oh, boy, was she in trouble. “Jackson's a very nice man. He's been a good friend.”

Nan's dark red eyebrows went up. “
A very nice man?
Girl, have you lost your mind? This is Jackson Raines we're talking about. Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome? He's one of the sexiest men on the planet. Tell me you just think of him as a friend.”

She flushed and glanced away. “All right, so maybe it's a little more than friendship.”
Like spending hours in bed with him and wishing they could make love again.
“But I don't think either one of us knows where it's going.” She noticed Nan hadn't turned away from the window, but seemed to be watching Jimmy, not Jackson.

“What about you? Any new men in your life?”

Nan turned and Sarah caught a flash of sadness in her eyes. “I went out with Jimmy Threebears. It was pretty much a disaster.”

“A disaster? Really? Why?”

Nan blew out a breath. “Because—like half the men in Wind Canyon—Jim thinks I'm a slut.”

“But that's crazy. Why on earth would he think that?”

Nan walked over and sank down on the sofa. “For a while after Ron and I got divorced, I kind of was.” She smoothed a wrinkle in one of the sofa cushions. “I hung out at the Canyon Club—you know, that place out on the Sheep River highway?”

“I remember it.”

“When I'd get lonely, I'd go out there. Sometimes I'd pick up a guy. I saw Jim there a couple of times.
The night we went out, he pressed me for sex. When I said no, he said I put out for every other guy, why not him?”

“Lord, Nan, what did you do?”

“I slapped his face and made him take me home.” She looked up and tears sprang into her eyes. “I wanted to tell him I'm not like that anymore—not for years. That I never really was that way. I didn't, of course.”

“Oh, Nan.”

“I've wanted to go out with him forever. I really wanted him to like me.”

Sarah sat down beside her, leaned over and gave her a hug. “People make mistakes. Nobody's perfect—not even Jimmy Threebears. Jimmy doesn't deserve you. You keep that in mind.”

Nan smiled wanly. “I didn't mean to get into that. I almost didn't drive out because I was afraid I'd see him.”

“Forget him. Come on in the kitchen and I'll make us a nice cup of tea.”

And so she did, and they sat together drinking Earl Grey and enjoying the pretty view outside the kitchen window, watching a fat gray squirrel foraging food from beneath a pine tree.

But long after Nan left, Sarah thought of Jimmy Threebears and the way he had treated her friend. She never would have expected Jimmy to behave so disrespectfully to a woman.

Which only went to prove how careful a woman had to be.

J
ackson was flat-out tired. Tired of waiting for his brother to call, tired of worrying about Sarah and little Holly. Tired of waiting for Sarah to give in to her desire and invite him back into her bed.

He couldn't do much about his brother, or the problems with Marty Kozak. But he could do something about Sarah.

Saddling Galahad, a big sorrel quarter horse gelding he favored, and a paint mare named Daisy he trusted for Sarah, he led the animals toward the cottage. Holly and her puppy were playing with Sam and Giddy and their dogs out in front of the barn so he knew Sarah was home alone. Before he left the house, he'd asked Livvy to keep an eye on the little girl so Sarah wouldn't worry.

Arriving at the cottage, Jackson tied the horses to the railing in front of the flower bed, climbed the wooden
steps and knocked on her door. Another quick knock and Sarah pulled it open.

“Jackson. Hi.”

His gaze ran over her feminine features, pretty blue eyes and luscious curves, and the blood began to settle in his groin. Since it was far too soon for that kind of thinking, he clamped down on the heat burning through him and smiled.

“You're wearing jeans. Great, you won't have to change.” He grabbed her hand. “It's too nice a day to stay in the house. Come on, we're going for a ride.”

“Wait a minute—”

“Holly's with Sam and Gibby, and Livvy's keeping an eye on them.”

She continued to resist, pulling against his hand, then she spotted the little paint mare. “That isn't fair. She's too pretty to resist.”

“That was my plan.”

“I haven't ridden in ages.” But he could feel her eagerness as he led her toward the horse. “Not since I left Wyoming. I don't know if I remember how.”

“It'll come back to you. It's the same as riding a bicycle—once you know how, you never forget.”

She cast him a not-so-certain glance. “I hope you're right.”

He led her over to the paint—brown and white, small, well-shaped head and nice markings. “Sarah, meet Daisy. She's got a good rein and she's very sweet tempered.”

Sarah scratched Daisy between the ears. “Aren't you a sweet girl?” The mare nickered softly and leaned into her hand.

“See, she likes you already.”

And from the adoration on Sarah's face, the feeling was mutual. Jackson swung her up in the saddle, took a moment to check the stirrup length, saw that he'd guessed about right. She was wearing the same white sneakers she usually wore and he made a mental note to take her into the mercantile and buy her a pair of boots.

Sarah settled deeper in the saddle and took hold of the reins, placing them correctly in her left hand. She rode Daisy in a small circle, just to get the feel of the horse, and it was clear she hadn't forgotten much of anything. It was hard to live in a small, rural town in Wyoming and not know how to ride.

“Where are we going?”

“Up to the top of the ridge. I need to check on those loggers, make sure they aren't causing any trouble.” And it was a beautiful ride up an easy, meandering trail. Livvy had packed a picnic lunch, and there were nice places along the way where they could stop to eat.

“Ready?”

“As I'm ever going to be.”

The kids had disappeared inside the barn. Jackson led Sarah out a dirt road that followed the creek, then they branched off up the trail.

The path started up steeply.

“Jackson?” There was a hint of nervousness in Sarah's voice.

“It's only a little way to the top of the rise, then it's a gentle climb the rest of the trip. Just give Daisy her head and hang on.”

Sarah handled the climb like an expert and pulled the little mare to a halt behind Galahad under a canopy
of trees. She looked at him and grinned. “I forgot how much fun this is.”

He smiled back at her, thinking how pretty she looked in the dappled sunlight filtering down through the branches. A rush of wanting hit him that had nothing to do with sex, then the familiar throb of desire settled deep in his loins.

The woman was in his blood, had been since he was a boy. It was a worrisome thought; one, for the moment, he chose to ignore.

The trail continued, passing grand vistas of green-grass valley below and craggy mountains in the distance where a hawk soared over the treetops. The path wound into deep, old-growth forests, and the scent of cedar and pine filled the air. Saddle leather creaked beneath him and a thick mat of needles muffled the clop of the horses' hooves.

An hour into the ride, Jackson pulled Galahad to a halt in a quiet little meadow next to a bubbling stream.

“Livvy packed us a picnic lunch.” Swinging down from the saddle, he slung a rope around Galahad's neck, pulled off the bridle and tied the horse up to graze. He dragged a blanket out of his saddlebag and whipped it open on the grass then walked back to where Sarah sat on Daisy.

She was staring at the rocky, snowcapped peaks as if she had never really seen them. “Oh, Jackson, this is wonderful! Thank you so much for bringing me.”

“My pleasure.” He refused to let the thought linger, just slipped a rope around the little mare's neck, took off Daisy's bridle and tied her to the nearest tree. Reaching up, he lifted Sarah off the saddle, holding her so close she slid down his body as he set her on her feet.

He was hard and he let her know it. Her eyes found his and he felt the thrum of her pulse speeding into a faster gear. He kept his hands at her waist, though he wanted to move them higher, wanted to cup those sweet breasts he remembered so well.

“Livvy made us sandwiches.” His voice came out gruff since his mind was not on food.

Sarah reached up and touched his face. He could read the uncertainty, knew the instant she made her decision. “Let's eat later.” Twining her arms around his neck, she went up on her toes and kissed him. Her soft curves melted against him and Jackson groaned.

Damn, he wanted her.

His tongue found its way into her mouth, and she sucked on it, tangled her own tongue with his and pressed herself more fully against him. Desire slammed through him like a heavyweight punch, set off a roaring in his ears and a pounding in his blood.

Sweet Jesus.
His hands found her breasts, just the way he had imagined. He palmed them, cupped them over the crisp white blouse she wore with her jeans. He told himself to go slow, but when Sarah deepened the kiss, when it turned hot and fierce, any thought of a slow, easy loving evaporated like water on a heated stone. Jackson drove his hands into her heavy hair and tilted her head back to lay claim to what was his.

 

Sarah couldn't think. She could barely breathe. Jackson kissed her wildly, a deep, slick kiss that fired the fever burning through her blood. She wanted this, wanted him. There was no use denying it. Jerking the snaps open on the front of his Western shirt, she ran her palms over his magnificent chest, felt the slabs of muscle
tighten, felt the roughness of his curly, dark chest hair, felt his erection leap against the zipper of his jeans.

She leaned toward him, pressed her lips against a flat copper nipple, and the last of his control seemed to snap.

“I want you,” he said, cupping her face between his hands. “God, I want you so damned much.” Dragging her mouth back to his, he plunged his tongue inside. He walked her backward till they reached the blanket, then lowered her to the ground and came down on top of her.

Long, deep kisses followed. Wet, openmouthed kisses as he unfastened her bra then clamped his lips over a rigid nipple. He sucked until he had her moaning, stopped only long enough to tug off her sneakers, unzip her jeans and drag them down her legs. He pulled them off and his hot gaze devoured her, snagged on the little blue thong panties that barely covered the dark brown curls above her sex.

Sarah reached for him, her hands trembling as she unzipped his jeans, urging him to take them off. “I want to see you. I want to touch you, Jackson.”

He clenched his jaw as if he were in pain. He was naked in an instant—boots, jeans and shirt all gone. Slabs of muscle tightened across his chest as he moved, spreading her legs, positioning himself above her.

He didn't wait, and Sarah didn't want him to, just parted her softness and found the entrance to her passage, began to ease his powerful erection inside. She was wet and slick and as the penetration deepened, the pleasure was so intense she started to come.

Sarah bit back a cry as ripples of sweetness washed
over her and her body tightened around his hardened length.

Jackson hissed in a breath. “God, lady…”

She could see he was fighting for control, his breath coming fast, every muscle tense. His movements quickened, his hips pumping, driving him hard inside her. Pleasure swamped her, pulled deep in her stomach. He felt so good, so totally amazing. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, dug her fingers into his powerful shoulders and held on through a second searing climax.

“Damn…” he ground out, and finally let himself go. His skin was slick with sweat, his biceps bunching as he spent himself inside her. The muscles across his chest teased her nipples. She loved the weight of him above her, loved every inch of his rock-solid body.

She'd had sex before, but never like this, and she loved it.

I can handle this,
she told herself. Sex with an incredible lover. All she had to do was keep things on an even keel—keep herself from falling in love with him.

The words stirred a trickle of unease inside her. She wasn't ready for that kind of involvement. Maybe she never would be.

I can handle it,
she told herself again. She wanted this time with Jackson. After what she had suffered with Andrew, she deserved this special time with this very special man.

“All right?” he asked, slowly lifting himself from above her, lying down on the blanket beside her and easing her into his arms. Cool mountain air rushed over her bare skin, raising a fine spray of goose bumps. Sarah loved it.

“I'm fine. Wonderful, in fact.”

He leaned over her, kissed her softly on the lips. “So am I.” He smiled. “Hungry? Because if we don't get dressed pretty soon, I won't give a damn about that chicken.”

Sarah laughed. “I'm starving.” She hadn't eaten all day. Even so, when Jackson leaned over to kiss her one last time, she slid her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Sparks ignited. They made love slowly this time, learning each other's body, giving each other pleasure.

After they finished, they lay there in the sunshine, Sarah on the edge of slumber till the breeze began to chill her bare skin. She leaned over for a last quick kiss, then left him there on the blanket.

While Sarah washed in the little stream and pulled on her clothes, Jackson dressed and went to retrieve their picnic lunch. As she returned to the blanket, an image stirred of him naked, all dark skin and lean bands of muscle.

She hid a small, inward smile. She hadn't realized what a brazen hussy she was until she met Jackson. Or maybe that was just the way a normal woman reacted to a man who attracted her as strongly as he did. She had so little experience with men she didn't really know.

They ate the sandwiches and drank iced tea. When they had finished, he tugged her to her feet. “I'd rather stay here and make love to you again, but it looks like it's getting ready to rain. Storms blow up fast around here. I'd rather not be stuck on the mountain.”

“We're going back?”

A few drops began to fall, dappling the ground around them. “I think we'd better,” he said.

“What about the loggers? I thought you wanted to check on them.”

“There's a road that goes to the top. I'll take one of the ATVs and go up in the morning.” Jackson hauled her into his arms and very thoroughly kissed her. “I'm glad you enjoyed the ride.”

She blushed, and he laughed.

“That one, too. Come on, we'd better get going.” He had readied the horses. He boosted her into the saddle, then collected his reins and swung up on Galahad. Adjusting his battered straw hat to shade his eyes, he led the way out of the meadow and they started back down the trail.

It was raining steadily by the time they reached the ranch and Sarah's gaze went in search of her daughter.

“I need to find Holly.”

“I'm sure Livvy brought her into the house. Let's get you in where it's dry and I'll send her home.”

Sarah hesitated. She wasn't used to anyone looking after her daughter but herself.

“Come on,” he gently coaxed, riding past the barn and reining up in front of the cottage. “It's getting wetter by the minute.”

With a last glance back toward the ranch house, Sarah jumped down and Jackson swung down beside her.

“Sorry about the rain.”

She smiled up at him. “It was worth it.” She handed him Daisy's reins, went up and kissed him full on the lips. “Thanks for the lunch.”

“As I said, my pleasure.” The edge of his mouth curved up and the devil twinkled in those flashing dark eyes. Sarah ignored the little flutter in her stomach and the urge to invite him inside.

“Tell Holly to come straight home.”

He nodded, pulled his hat farther down against the rain that was falling even more heavily, turned and led the horses toward the barn.

 

“Mom, I'm home!” It hadn't been ten minutes, but still Sarah was relieved to hear the sound of her daughter's voice. Everything was fine. Holly was home and safe.

“I'm in here, honey—in the bedroom.” She had finally gotten her laptop up and running and was now able to get her email. She was still subscribed to AOL so she hadn't lost any messages from her friends. Not that she had all that many.

The friends she had made in SBW, the online support group for battered women, all stayed closely in touch. One woman in particular. Patty Gorski, the founder of the small collection of women, was as tough as nails and as solid as a rock. Sarah sorted through her emails, looking for a message from Patty as Holly dashed into the bedroom.