Always a Lady (11 page)

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Authors: Sharon Sala

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Ranch Life, #Accident Victims

BOOK: Always a Lady
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"If you'd let me . . . I'd always be there for you, Lily."

She yanked her arm free and made a dash for her father who was visiting with the preacher beneath the small porch roof.

"Dad! We'd better hurry or I won't have time to get the noon meal."

Morgan nodded, shook the pastor's hand, and then noticed, for the first time, the high color on his daughter's cheeks. He turned around and caught the long, intense look that their host was giving Lily. If he wasn't mistaken, Case had just made a declaration that his girl wanted to ignore.

"We're going to drive into Clinton and eat out," Morgan said. "Case already told us. He said it was your day off."

"But I don't have days off on . . ."

"Obviously you do today," Morgan said. "Come on. Let's get your brothers before they start a riot and we're all run out of town on a rail. I see a couple of nervous fathers already."

Lily tried to ignore Case's existence. But it was hard when he was coming toward her with an expression on his face that brooked no arguments.

"Are you ready?" he asked.
I'll never be ready for you.

Case didn't wait for her answer. He simply guided her back to his truck, and led the way into Clinton for Sunday dinner.

It was late. Lily kept glancing at the clock over the kitchen stove and tried not to be nervous. Case had been gone all evening. By the time it was dark, she'd expected him to come walking into the kitchen at any moment. But he hadn't appeared, and she was beginning to imagine any and every dire emergency befalling him.

One minute they'd been in the den visiting and watching an old movie on television when Duff had come bursting into the house. He shouted something about fences being down and cattle out and Case exited on the run.

Her family's offer to help had been quickly refused. He'd claimed plenty of men were available to do what needed to be done. The Brownfields were to stay and visit with Lily. It was why they'd come. And so they'd visited . . . and finally . . . they'd all retired to their rooms. All but Lily, who waited and worried.

She parted a curtain and stared outside. Nothing but darkness looked back. She quickly dropped it back in place, walked over to the counter, and began rearranging the cutlery drawer for something to do.

Where could they be? Her heart thumped raggedly against her rib cage. Nerves kept her stomach rumbling. Nothing has happened, she told herself. He's just late. No telling what kind of mess they found when they arrived. But the harder she tried to convince herself she was being silly, the more anxiety developed.

Lily thought about waking her father just to vent her worry and then stopped herself. If she admitted she was worried, then she would have to admit why. It wasn't possible. She couldn't care for this man. The last man she'd cared for had let her down horribly. It hurt too much to face the possibility again.

She slammed the last fork back into place, shuffled the knives although they didn't need shuffling, and then dropped the drawer and its contents onto the floor as the kitchen door suddenly opened.

An entire twelve-place setting of stainless steel cutlery went flying across the shiny linoleum.

As tired as he was, Case began to grin. "Best greeting I've had all day," he said.

"You startled me," she accused, and got down on her hands and knees and began grabbing at the knives, forks and spoons.

"I see that," he said softly, as he knelt to help.

"I can do it," Lily said. "I dropped it . . . I'll clean it up."

"Sometimes, Lily, two sets of hands are better than one. Don't argue with me. I'm too damned tired to hear it."

She swiftly relented as she saw the lines of weariness beneath his eyes and the tired droop to his lips. A thin layer of dust hung over his skin and clothing and his usually bright blue eyes were almost gray with fatigue.

She grabbed his hand and gently took the handful of cutlery from him.

"Go take a bath," she said softly. "I saved some supper for you."

He leaned back on his heels, searching her face for more than concern. He sighed with defeat. It wasn't there.

"I won't be long," he said quietly. And walked away.

Lily knew something more than fatigue was bothering him. She'd felt it ever since church this morning. Sometime between their arrival and their departure, Case had changed. She didn't think it was a religious revelation that had overcome him. But for the life of her, she couldn't quite put her finger on the problem.

If she'd only known to turn around and look in a mirror, Lily Brownfield would have been staring at Case's problem. But if she had, she wouldn't have known how to deal with it. She couldn't even deal with her own.

Case walked back into the kitchen. Tiny droplets of water still beaded across his bare belly where he'd hurried to dry, knowing that Lily was waiting for him. One button was undone at the waistband of his blue jeans and hair was wet and seal black against his neck as he dropped into his seat at the kitchen table.

"Sorry I didn't dress for supper," he said, trying to tease the look of shock off her face. "But as soon as I eat, I'm going to undress again and crawl into bed. Didn't want to waste any time getting there."

Lily tried to ignore all that expanse of bare skin as she filled his plate with food she'd kept warm from the evening meal.

"It doesn't bother me," she said quickly. "I have four brothers, remember?" But I never wanted to touch my brothers the way I want to touch you. Her wayward thoughts made her hands shake and she slopped bean juice down the side of the bowl as she carried it to the table.

"Sorry," she said, as she set it down and went to get a cloth. "I kept the cornbread warm but I'm afraid it's going to be a little tough. It just doesn't heat up like other breads. I always think it's a little . . ."

Case grabbed her hand. "Stop it, Lily," he said quietly. "It's fine just the way it is. Don't fuss."

And when he feared that he'd hurt her feelings by being too abrupt, he finished by saying, "I'm not used to having anyone care whether I showed up late or even showed up at all."

"Oh! I wasn't . . ."

Her voice ceased at the look on his face. She couldn't lie, not about that, and not now.

"Well," she said. "I knew you were all right. I just didn't want you to go to bed hungry."

I
could eat until morning, and I'd still be hungry . . . for you. "Thank you, Lily. I really appreciate it."

She blushed, and turned to the counter, staring at the jumble of cutlery. "Now I'm going to have to wash this stuff all over again before I put it back," she said.

"I won't tell if you won't," Case said.

Lily turned around and gaped at the innocent look in his eyes. The thought of getting by with something like this was too good to pass.

"Promise?" Her lips twitched with delight at the thought.

"Promise," Case said solemnly. "I never break my word, Lily. That's something you should remember . . . for future reference, of course."

Her hand jerked. She blushed and began sorting the cutlery back into the proper sections. It didn't mean a thing that they were going to share a secret. This was such a silly thing. It didn't mean anything, not anything at all.

She finished, while Case quietly ate. Unaware that every bite he took was followed by a long, contemplative look at her. It was only when she heard his chair scoot back from the table that she realized he was through.

"Well!" she said quickly. "I'll just wash these up and then . . ."

"Leave it," Case said. He set the dirty dishes in the sink, ran them full of water, and turned to face her.

Lily started to argue and then caught the expression in his eyes. She turned her face away and ducked, unconsciously shielding herself from his view.

"Damn it to hell, Lily. I wish you'd stop doing that to me."

She looked up, stunned to see real anger spreading across his face.

"To you? You're not the . . ."

"Yes, I am," he argued. "Everytime I look at you, I'm judged by another man's actions. I don't like it. I don't like it one damned bit."

She started to argue. But it was impossible to argue with the truth. She started to apologize. But it was impossible to talk with her mouth otherwise occupied.

The kiss came suddenly. But somewhere, in the back of her mind, she'd expected it. Maybe that was why she didn't argue. Maybe that was why she didn't move other than to take a step closer.

His arms slid around her, pulling her tightly against bare skin and corded muscles. Her hands moved across his chest and almost slipped up around his neck.

Almost . . . but not quite.

Case sighed as he relinquished his place. He lifted his head, started to step away, and then gave himself one more taste of Lily.

His lips were warm. The faint taste of hot bread and butter lingered as well as the last cup of coffee he'd consumed. Lily was suddenly hungry all over again but not for food. She shivered as his lips played havoc with her good intentions.

They coaxed and caressed. Firm and possessive, they moved across her face and down the side of her neck, lingering longer at the pulse point below her chin just to savor the knowledge that it raced when he tasted her.

"Case . . ."

He heard the hesitation in her voice. He also heard something else that gave him hope.

"What?" he asked, removing himself from her with supreme effort.

Lily stepped backward in shock. What she'd been about to ask was impossible. She couldn't allow herself to think of such things. But the thought still remained that she'd almost asked him to take her to bed.

"Never mind," she said shortly. "It's late. You'd better get your rest."

Case doubled his hands into fists and resisted the urge to punch a hole in his kitchen wall. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and when he opened them she was gone.

"Hell," he said quietly. And that's just where his dreams took him later that night.

He tossed and turned, lost in the knowledge that he loved a woman who hated men. Even though he felt her attraction, he knew she was fighting it with every ounce of strength she possessed. That's what frightened him. Lily Brownfield was the strongest woman he'd ever met. He just had to find a way to channel that strength into confidence . . . not distrust.

Lily had felt it. The wanting . . . the need. But it wasn't possible. She'd made her decision a long time ago. No man was worth that kind of pain again. No man!

But her dreams took her into a world where a big man's arms held her close. Where the sky and his eyes were one and the same . . . all open . . . all seeing . . . hiding nothing but the truth. Where the heat in her body focused on his touch, and her smile was as clear and smooth as the skin on her face.

And it was only a dream.
SIX

"Buddy, you forgot these," Lily yelled, as she took the stairs down two at a time with a shoe, a belt, and a hairbrush clutched to her breast.

Case came through the front door intent on carrying another load of luggage to the waiting vehicle, but as soon as he saw Lily flying down his staircase he forgot why he'd entered the house. He had an image of how wonderful it would be if he was met in this manner every time he came into his home. He wasn't ready to give up even though Lily ignored every look he sent her way.

Her hair was braided in one thick twist and hung down the middle of her back like a king-size taffy. Her skin was shades browner than the day she'd arrived and made a startling contrast to the natural milk and honey shades of her sun-bleached hair. The yellow, no-nonsense sundress she was wearing added to the image she presented of sunbeams and vitality.

Case caught her as she hit the bottom step on the run.

"Whoa, Lily, love. You'll take a header down those stairs if you're not careful. Take it from one who knows."

Lily turned several shades of red beneath her tan, turned away the side of her face that bore the scar, and wriggled out of his grasp in quick confusion.

She was still heartsick and confused from their late night interlude in the kitchen. She'd been so tempted to allow him what he'd wanted, and so certain that it would be the end of her if she did.

"Stop that," she muttered. "Someone will see. And besides, I'm not your love."

"Not my fault," Case grumbled. "And I don't give a damn if someone does see."

He stalked back outside and left her standing where he'd turned her loose, unaware of the look of longing that followed his exit. Lily couldn't get past the way it had felt to be gathered up in those strong arms and clasped against a cowboy's heart. Los Angeles had not prepared her for a man like Case Longren.

Lily's father and brothers were leaving today and she was nervous, but she couldn't quite put her finger on the reason. At least she'd been unable to until Case Longren had caught her at the bottom of the stairs. Now she knew why she was nervous! She was going to be alone . . . again . . . in this house . . . with Case!

Before her family's arrival she'd been able to keep him at arms' length. Now she'd been in his arms more than she'd been out of them since their arrival. What was going to happen between them after her family left?

"Lilleee! We're leaving!" Buddy yelled.

She moved toward the door on leaden feet. Oh God! Maybe she should just bolt and run. It wasn't too late. She could leave now . . . with her family . . . they'd understand. And Pete could go back to being cook. After all, roundup was nearly over.

The moment Lily came outside clutching Buddy's belongings, Case read the look of panic in her eyes. He wasn't the only one.

"Thanks," Buddy said, as he grabbed his stuff from Lily and tossed it into an already overflowing bag. "What would I do without you?"

It was the perfect opening. Lily started to agree when her father interrupted. He'd seen the look on her face, too, and knew that Cole had been right. Lily needed to see this thing through. She'd already had too many interruptions in her life to allow another. She needed to finish what she'd started.

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