Always a Lady (6 page)

"Debbie gone?" Duff asked, as he passed Case in the hallway.

"Yes," he answered. "And, Duff, I'll be out the rest of the day. See that everything runs smooth this afternoon. I have to run into Clinton. Probably won't be back until after dark."

"Gotcha," the tiny man waved, and stomped outside, his boots making a loud clump with each step he took.

Case walked into the kitchen, caught another cool look of disdain and wondered exactly what he'd done now to warrant all of this cold front. He was so glad to see her he didn't know where to start.

"I suppose you had your reasons," Lily began, "but next time I'd just as soon you sent someone else to take me shopping. Or better yet, let me go myself now that I know the way. I don't want to be within a county's distance of Lane Turney again. Do I make myself clear?"

Case's gut kicked. So it was Lane who'd wrecked and was on the way to the hospital. Somehow he should have known.

"I didn't send him," Case said quietly, frowning. No wonder she was angry with him. She thought he'd sent Lane to take her shopping, even after the way he behaved yesterday. My God! Surely she knows me better than that? The thought that she didn't trust him hurt all the way down.

"But he came," she argued. "He said you'd sent him to take me." And then her composure cracked and her bottom lip quivered as she stopped emptying grocery sacks and gripped the work island with shaky fingers. "And then he got drunk."

Case's loud expletive split the air, and Lily shuddered as she continued.

"Not at first. But afterward, when he came to the market to pick me up." Her words were stilted and coming faster and faster. Lily wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold, and she began to pace between the counter and the cabinets. "I begged him to let me drive. He wouldn't."

"Honey," Case began. "It's all right. I know . . ."

"No," Lily interrupted. "You don't! I begged him. But he wouldn't let me drive . . . and I couldn't get in the car with him. He was drunk . . . and a drunk made me like this . . . and I . . ." 

She was in his arms.

Case held her. She was shaking. Every breath she took was swallowed in a ragged gulp of fear.

"He had a wreck," Case said softly. "I thought you were with him. I've never been so afraid in my life, lady. All I could see was you, hurt . . . and it would have been my fault. I should have fired the son-of-a-bitch yesterday. If he hasn't killed himself, I still will."

"Oh my God!" Lily moaned, and felt the ground tilting. Just the thought brought back every memory she had of the oncoming car that had swerved out of its own lane into hers and the ensuing pain and terror that had occurred. Somewhere daylight was disappearing beyond a wall of darkness and taking Lily with it. She went limp in Case's arms.

He felt her bones turning to jelly and knew he should have broken the news less suddenly, but it was too late now. He caught her before she hit the floor.

"Honey," he whispered against her ear. "I'm so sorry. Dear Lord, I'm sorry."

But Lily didn't hear him or see the look of love on his face as he carried her to her bed.

Case dashed into her bathroom and was back at her side, leaving little drips of water in his wake as he laid the cool, damp cloth across her forehead. His gaze feasted, knowing if she'd been awake, it would not have been allowed. He picked a long strand of hair from across her face, a gold thread from her crowning glory, and let it slide through his fingers before brushing it back into place. He smoothed the damp cloth down across her face, letting his finger run parallel to the scar that had sliced across her cheek and then leaned forward, kissing the corner of her mouth just below the end of the angry mark.

She moaned, and a sigh so soft it felt like the breath of an angel slid across his face. Case muttered softly and resisted the urge to lay himself down beside this woman and never let her go. He ran the cloth lightly down her neck, letting it rest for a moment against the rapid beat of her pulse that tap danced beneath his fingers and prayed that when she came to, she wouldn't blame him anymore than he blamed himself.

Her eyelids began to flutter, and Case leaned back, unwilling for her to know he'd been so close. It was a trespass she hadn't allowed, but it was one he wouldn't forget.

"Honey," Case said softly, "you're okay. You just fainted."

Lily opened her eyes, blinked several times in slow succession like a baby owl trying to focus, and when she did, she looked into the face of love. It was unmistakable, and it was on the wrong man. This wasn't Todd, and she wasn't back in L.A.

Suddenly the day's events came rushing back into her consciousness and she gasped, struggling to sit up and away from this big man who'd made her feel things she didn't want to remember existed. The expression she'd imagined disappeared as Case stood up and stepped back, allowing her the space she so obviously desired.

"I can't believe I did that," Lily said, as she smoothed at her hair with shaking fingers.

Her mouth trembled and her eyes watered, but she regained her composure in one fell swoop as she rolled away from him and off on the opposite side of the bed.

"Don't rush things," he said quietly, sadly watching the wall she was re-erecting between them. "You had a fright and. given your circumstances, a bad one. If you don't feel like it, you can skip the evening meal. We'll make do. The men have been overfed since you came anyway."

"Absolutely not," Lily said. "If you'll excuse me, I'll just change out of my blouse and slacks into my work clothes and get busy." She stood, giving Case no choice.

He sighed, turned and fired the washcloth through the bathroom door toward the sink. It slapped into the basin with unerring aim, landing with a squishy plop as he stomped out of the room without uttering another word.

Lily blinked, puzzled by his near angry gesture and wondered what was wrong with him. She was the one who'd come close to being involved in another wreck. She closed the door behind him, shrugging to herself about the mood swings of the big cowboy. She slipped her blouse over her head and stepped out of her slacks, then hung her clothing back into the closet. She pulled a seersucker sundress from a hanger and slipped it over her head. It was older and would be cool to work in. She turned to the mirror over her dresser, grabbed her hairbrush and began pulling her long, silky hair into an orderly twist that she pinned at the back of her neck. Then she leaned forward, checking as she always did, to see if the scar on the side of her face had disappeared since she'd last looked. Lily frowned at the reflection. It was still there.

She started to torn away when the oddest thing happened. Suddenly she no longer saw herself reflected in the mirror. She was looking at an instant replay of Debbie Randall plastering herself into Case's arms. She knew that she was finally allowing herself to focus on something that had bothered . . . no . . . shocked her, when she'd seen Case's arms wrap around another woman so easily. He'd held Lily the same way once, and she remembered liking it. She couldn't afford to become dependent on a man again. It hurt too much when it was over.

"What's wrong with you?" she snarled to herself in the minor. "Wasn't one man's betrayal enough for you? What makes you think that another man would ever want to look at your face day in and day out for the rest of his life? Get a grip, Lily," she told herself, and slammed out of the room and into the kitchen as if the devil himself were at her heels.

Case was conspicuously absent at supper but Lily couldn't bring herself to ask his whereabouts. After the meal was over and the men had gone, she wandered throughout the downstairs portion of the house, trying to find something to do to occupy herself until she was exhausted and sleepy enough to go to bed.

She couldn't imagine why Case was absent. She supposed that she'd angered him with her rude, thankless behavior after he'd been so thoughtful and caring when she fainted. She refused to let herself remember the way he'd held her, whispering his thanksgiving that she hadn't been involved in the accident. She wouldn't remember the way it had felt to press against him, body to body, and mentally map every contour and plane of such a man as Case Longren. She wouldn't. She couldn't. It would hurt too much if she let herself care for anyone and then see that look of disgust she knew would appear when he looked at her face, knowing she'd never be pretty again.

Lily made a fist, slammed it against the side of her leg and mumbled to herself. This job was probably the worst idea she'd had in years, but she'd see it through. After all, she had nowhere else to go. She grabbed a couple of magazines from a table in the den and headed for her room.

Sometime later a knock on her bedroom door startled her and made her drop the magazine she'd been reading.

"Who is it?" she called, although she knew who was going to answer before the sound ever came. It was nearly ten o'clock and dark as pitch outside. None of the men would dare come in search of her at this time of night. It had to be Case.

It was.

"Me," he answered.

Lily opened the door and stared, trying not to give away the burst of pleasure she felt at just seeing him again.

"I thought you'd like to know that Lane is going to survive," he drawled. "At least he'll survive the accident. I can't vouch for what I'm going to do to him when he's dismissed from the hospital, and I can't say what the authorities are going to do to him for driving drunk, but I don't really give a damn. I just thought you might."

Pain opened and spread as Lily listened wordlessly to Case's almost angry recital.

"I'm glad he's okay," Lily answered. "And I thank you for thinking of me."

I
always think of you, lady, Case thought.

"I'm sorry to be so much trouble," Lily mumbled, reading his behavior as angry and directed at her. "I suppose when you hired a long-distance cook, you never expected all this."

"I don't know what I expected," Case muttered. "But it wasn't you . . . and you're not trouble . . . and I'm thankful as hell that you're in my house, glaring at me, and building your walls to keep people out. For a short time today, I didn't think I'd ever get to say that, and I wasn't going to let another sun rise before I did. You can be mad. You can be offended. You can be any damned thing you please. And I don't care whether you like it or not, you're about to be kissed."

Lily was still trying to absorb what he'd just said when he hauled her into his arms and leaned toward her with intention in his eyes and love on his lips.

She knew just before their mouths merged that she'd been wondering what this would feel like ever since the first day she'd seen him dust-covered and weary, standing tall beneath the hot prairie sun.

The kiss.

At first it was tentative, a careful foray of nips and tastes that sent shivers spiking through the pit of Lily's stomach. Her hands knotted in the jacket he was wearing, and she inhaled as his mouth slid across her lips, seeking a firmer place to begin a more daring exploration. She drew his breath into her mouth and swallowed the groan that followed as Case slid his arms around her back and wrapped her so tightly against him she thought she'd just been melted and poured into his body.

"Oh God, lady," Case whispered, as he tore his mouth away from her open, inviting lips. "Make me stop before this goes any farther. You've got to because I don't think I've got enough guts to be a gentleman about this. I ache for more than you're ready to give."

Lily struggled with sanity, and slowly but surely pulled herself back together, withdrawing from Case's embrace with as much grace as she could muster.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready to give you what you want, Mr. Longren," she said coolly. "I don't hop in and out of men's beds."

Case was struggling with passion and fury as he grabbed Lily by the shoulders and shook her.

"I don't think I asked for anything casual, lady. In fact, I didn't ask for any damn thing at all except some sanity. You've taken away all of mine. I just thought you'd be willing to share some of your own. And don't think for a minute I'm going to forget that you kissed me back. You'd do well to remember it, too."

He turned and stalked away, disappearing into the shadowy darkness of the near-empty house with an ache in his heart and the pain that comes with unfulfilled passion.

Lily watched, dumbfounded by what had just transpired, and remembered, too late, that she was supposed to be the injured party here. She stepped back and slammed the door shut with a reverberating bang. But it was a bit too loud and a bit too late. Case had already torn a hole in the wall around her heart and left her empty and aching for more.

The next few days passed in a blur of revitalized activity. Another herd of cattle had been moved from their winter pasture back down to the ranch. The men were busy making steers out of the little bull calves, branding all the new livestock, and cursing the relentless sun and dust with every other breath. For spring, it was exceedingly hot.

Lily cooked, washed, cleaned, shopped and slept. Repeatedly. Her heart ached through the routine. Case hadn't done more than plaster her guilty conscience with several mind-boggling looks. They did nothing but remind her of how wonderful it had felt to be held in his arms. Then he would stomp outside with the rest of the men, keeping their contact to a minimum.

Nearly two hours had passed since supper was over and the last dish had been cleaned and put away. Lily was wandering through the house, searching for something to do. She didn't want to watch another television show. They were all reruns. She'd run out of anything new to read. And it was too early to go to bed. Besides, when she closed her eyes, all she could see was the look of pain on Case's face as he'd turned her loose and walked away. She couldn't let herself believe that she was anything more than a passing fancy . . . the only woman on the place syndrome. She'd convinced herself that no man would love her the way she was.