Always a Lady (10 page)

Does she know how much I want her? Can't she tell how bad I ache?

Lily sighed, and stepped closer. Case held his breath and pulled her into his arms. The music still played, but their feet had long since ceased movement. Lily looked up into blue so pure it took her breath away. She started to speak, but the words never came. They were lost in the groan that followed Case's lips as he swept across her mouth in total abandon.

Suddenly there was nothing but Case's hands on her body, his mouth on her lips, and her feet off the ground. Case swung her up and turned until she was pressed against the wall of the house as he buried himself in the softness of Lily.

He shook. She was soft, and warm, and she'd allowed him more than he would ever have dreamed. And it was not enough.

"Lily . . ." he groaned quietly.

"No," she answered, before he could ask.

He sighed. He slid her down against him until her feet touched the porch, brushed the tangle he'd made of her hair away from her face, and leaned his chin against the top of her head.

"Someday you won't tell me no, Lily Catherine."

Her heart twisted from the pain in his voice, but the conviction with which he spoke gave her hope. If she could only believe him. If she could only believe in herself.

FIVE

Lily brushed a light swath of blush across each cheek and tried not to frown at the slash beneath. It was Sunday. Her father and brothers were still here. Their presence had given her the courage to do something she'd been wanting to do ever since her arrival. She was going to church. But she wasn't going alone.

She smiled, remembering the look of shock on Case's face last night when she'd announced her intentions.

"Church? Me?"

Lily stared, calmly waiting for the shock to lessen. When she thought he was ready, she continued.

"Yes, you . . . and me . . . and my family. Back home I never missed." She fixed him with a look that made him fidget as she pressed the issue. "Don't you attend?"

"I used to," he said shortly. "But that was years ago . . . when my parents were still together. I haven't been in a long . . ."

Lily nodded. "I suspected as much. It's high time you did." And then she softened her remark with an innocent question. "Don't you think so?"

Case stuffed his hands in his pockets. Her Madonnalike expression wasn't fooling him. She was quiet. He'd give her that. And she was always a lady. That was obvious. But he suspected where will was concerned, hers was forged of iron. It was just the covering that was deceptive.

"I think you're right, Lily," he said quietly. "It's high time a lot of things happened around here. I'll be ready when you are."

Lily knew that her announcement had just taken second place to what he'd implied. The things that Case Longren wanted to happen involved her and she knew it. The problem was, she wasn't ready to deal with problems, of any kind.

"It's getting late," Lily called, standing at the foot of the stairs as she watched the first of the Brownfield men ambling down.

Her father was at the head of the line. He, too, was in the habit of attending church back home in Laguna Beach. He welcomed the chance to sample religion, country-style.

The twins came next, blond, California-tan, and flashing green eyes. As always, dressed alike in coordinating colors, their shirts and slacks would probably cause a stir in the congregation, especially if there were any unattached females around.

Cole sauntered down behind them, one hand on the bannister, the other coaxing their brother, Buddy, to pay attention to where he was walking and put away the hand-held computer game with which he was fiddling.

"Give it to me," Lily said quietly, as Buddy's foot hit the bottom step.

He looked up, surprised to see where he was and started to argue. He never went anywhere without one of his computers. But the look in her eyes was not to be denied. He sighed and handed it over.

Case watched from the top of the landing, smiling softly at the competent but loving manner with which Lily treated her family. They all looked to her for assurance and confirmation that they were presentable. He suspected that her mother's death years ago had thrust her into a very responsible position at an early age.

Lily counted heads. There was one missing. She turned back to the stairs and started to shout when she saw him standing above her, staring down.

Her pupils dilated. Whatever she'd been about to say was wiped from her mind by those clear blue eyes. Her fingers tensed and then clenched into fists as she watched him begin to descend the stairs. Every step he took pulled the soft brown fabric of his dress slacks against hard, muscled thighs. The scent of shoe polish came down with him and Lily knew that his boots had suffered a much-needed cleaning in her honor. The muscles in his arms corded as he reached behind his neck and adjusted the collar of his shirt. He took the rest of the stairs two at a time.

Lily tried to remind herself that it was Sunday. She was supposed to be in a godly frame of mind. To contemplate the week's past transgressions and hope for a better future. But the sight of that man and those all-seeing eyes gave her thoughts that didn't belong in church. She spun around, leaving him to descend the last few steps unobserved.

Case saw the flags of color sweeping across her cheeks and knew it was more than the makeup she was wearing. It did his heart good to realize that even in some small way he was getting to her. It was only fair. She'd been getting to him ever since the day she'd arrived.

"Who's riding with whom?" Cole asked with interest, missing nothing of the looks his sister and her boss had exchanged.

Before Lily could argue, Case took the matter out of her hands.

"Lily can ride with me. The rest of you follow along behind. That way no one will be crowded and we'll arrive in passable condition. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good to me," Morgan said, and headed out the front door with his sons following along behind like a covey of quail.

"You did that on purpose," Lily accused.

"I know it," Case said.

It took the air out of her complaint. She hadn't expected him to own up to it. "Well then," she huffed. "We'd better hurry or we'll be late."

"Yes, ma'am," he said quietly.

They made a dusty convoy as they turned left at the crossroads outside of Clinton.

"Where are we going?" Lily asked. She'd expected the services to be held in the town proper. But it was obvious that Case was turning in another direction.

"To church," he answered. "It's the one where I was baptized. I suppose that's where you wanted to . . ."

"It's fine," she said softly, trying not to think about Case and babies within the same heartbeat.

And then the small country church came into view, nestled beneath the only stand of trees for miles. The closer they came, the quieter Case got. Lily almost wished she hadn't pressed this. She could tell that this was difficult for him. From the look on his face, it should have happened years ago.

Case searched the dusty, white exterior. Nothing had changed. The hand-painted sign at the foot of the steps swung on rusty chain links from an equally rusty iron post. The crepe myrtle bushes beneath the windows were still scraggly and trying to bloom, just as they had every summer since he could remember. Western Oklahoma was too dry for most shrubs to thrive. But the people thrived just as they had since statehood. On hard work and determination not to let the flat, often too-dry land get the best of them.

"We're here," Case announced unnecessarily.

"You're a Methodist." The statement was said with some surprise, but with a sense of satisfaction. "So am I."

"Something in common," Case said quietly, letting himself absorb her beauty and tranquility. And then he watched her hand slip up the side of her face and knew that she was nervous about meeting strangers.

He threaded his fingers through her hand and coaxed. "Come on, Lily. This is going to be good for both of us."

That the congregation stared was putting it mildly. That they quickly regained their sense of balance and calmly scooted closer in the pews to make room, said something for their down-home, matter-of-fact lifestyle.

Lily imagined that everyone was looking at her. But the longer she sat, the more apparent it became that her brothers were the center of attention. She'd been right in assuming they'd be a hit with the unattached females in the area. It was something when one single man hit town running. When four came in one fell swoop, it was not to be ignored. And the Brownfield men were definitely not being ignored.

J.D. and Dusty were comfortable with being stared at. Because they were twins, it had always been part of their life. Buddy had panicked. But it was to be expected. Women always made him nervous. He'd quickly taken a seat between Lily and his father. Cole was the one who was trying to maintain his composure. But the impish face of Lily's friend, Debbie Randall, looking at him from the pew across the aisle, had given him second thoughts about bolting for cover as any smart cop would do.

"And the Lord said . . . 'Thou shalt not commit adultery' . . ."

The minister's voice rose with vehemence. He nearly shouted the commandment to the congregation.

Cole jumped and then tried to cover his movement by straightening his slacks. Guilty conscience, he thought with a wry smile, and forced all thoughts of Debbie Randall's dark brown eyes out of his mind.

Case let his arm slide along the back of the pew and resisted the urge to cup Lily's shoulder and scoot her closer against him. Adultery and Lily Brownfield didn't even belong in the same sentence. His thoughts of his cook had nothing to do with lust . . . and everything to do with love.

He'd sat on the scarred side of her, subconsciously putting himself between Lily and the congregation. He felt her tension. But the longer they sat, the more she relaxed. And then finally, he could tell when she forgot about everything except the message the minister was delivering.

A shaft of sunlight pierced the small, stained glass window behind the pulpit and beamed toward him as if on a heavenly mission. He tried not to fidget, but he was curious as to where the light had stopped. Finally, he allowed himself a quick glance. He didn't have far to look.

In her hair, in the crown of gold braid fastened high on her head, was a rainbow of color from the window's patchwork of lead and colored glass. Blue as clear as the sky outside, gold that blended into the luster of her own hair, red as dark as the blood on the cross, and green as true as Lily's eyes.

Case forgot to breathe. Tears quickened and he quickly blinked them away. It hadn't taken long that morning to fall in love. Now all he had to do was convince Lily to follow suit.

"Let us pray," the minister said solemnly.

Case was the first to obey. He had plenty to pray about.

The congregation was filing out the door, quietly visiting with each other and catching up on the week's events as they waited their turns to shake hands with the preacher.

Debbie stepped up behind Cole Brownfield and knew that, for the moment, he was unaware of her presence. It gave her a little time to appreciate the broad sweep of shoulders beneath his pale green shirt and admire the long legs filling out his navy blue slacks.

"Hi," she finally whispered, and smiled with hidden relish as he visibly jerked.

"Oh!" Cole muttered, swiveling quickly to see who was talking. "It's you."

"Nice service, wasn't it?" she asked, and let herself be joggled against his backside by the people crowding behind her, anxious to get outside and home to their waiting dinner.

Cole bit his lip to keep from swearing as he felt her breasts push against his backbone. Damn woman. She'd try the patience of a saint. And then he acknowledged with a weak sigh, And I'm no saint.

"It was fine," Cole said shortly and prayed that that was daylight up ahead he saw.

Debbie smiled again. This was the best sermon she'd ever heard. She was heartily glad she'd come to church this morning. To think, I almost didn't come, she thought. And then she wondered, as the minister came into view, What in the world did he preach about today? All she could remember was something about one of the commandments. She'd been lost after she'd seen the visitors entering the sanctuary. Oh well, it'll be enough to remark upon.

"Great sermon, Brother Donald," Debbie said, as she clasped the preacher's hand and pumped it heartily.

At least one of the congregation was listening this morning. After the new arrivals had taken their seats, he'd felt himself losing their attention. Brother Donald beamed.

"Case, it's sure good to see you here this morning.''

Lily recognized a neighbor from a nearby farm who'd been at the barbecue the other night. She smiled self-consciously and started to turn her head to the side when Case grabbed her gently by the elbow as he included her in the welcome.

"It's great to be here, Mildred," he said. "You remember Lily, don't you?"

"I surely do," Mildred said. "You're the one who fixed that apple pie with the graham cracker crumbs between the crust and fruit, aren't you? My word, but that was good. You've got to give me that recipe. My man talked about that pie all night."

"Thank you," Lily said. "And I'd be glad to give you the recipe. It was my mother's."

"Great," Mildred said. "I'll give you a call later this evening. I've got company coming tomorrow night. I just might make that pie for dessert."

Case slipped his hand a little farther up her elbow and gave her arm a gentle squeeze as Mildred made an exit across the withering excuse for a lawn.

"Thank you," Lily said quietly and turned to face him.

"For what?" Case asked softly.

"For coming with me. For being there." His voice was low, but sure. Lily's heart skipped a beat when he answered.