Breaking the Rules (24 page)

“You’re imagining things as usual, Roxie,” he said and hung up.

But as he sat in the smoky dusk of a summer evening, with a puppy curled in his arms, Zeke had to admit he missed Mattie with something close to desperation.

She was the only woman he’d ever been himself with completely; somehow, she’d made him free to be. She’d freed him from his prison of self-pity and despair, too, with a simple, wide-open enjoyment of life. Mattie made him remember he was somebody, that he had things to give.

An engine on the road made him jump to his feet, his heart leaping with hope. Maybe she’d taken him up on his invitation, after all. Maybe she’d come back for a short visit and—

The truck belonged to George Romero. He was pulling a horse trailer, and the bed of the pickup was filled with hay. “Hey, neighbor,” Zeke called, trying to quell his disappointment. “What brings you my way?”

George leaped nimbly from the cab, grinning. “What you got there? One of Lowry’s pups, eh? I got one, too.” He tickled the puppy under the chin and let himself be licked. “Damn good dogs, but you don’t have any sheep.”

“Neither do you.”

“Wool’s on the upswing these days. I may think about it.”

Zeke nodded. “You didn’t come all the way up here to talk about wool and dogs.”

“Nope.” He walked to the foot of the horse trailer and led out Othello. “I brought you back your damned, mean horse.”

Zeke frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“That woman of yours paid for him by certified check, yesterday.”

“Mattie?” A swell of hope burst into his chest. “Is she here?”

George shook his head, giving Zeke the lead rope. Othello lifted his head and snuffled happily at Zeke and the puppy. “Nah, she mailed it from Kansas City.”

“Hey, buddy,” Zeke said quietly. He didn’t look at George for fear his disappointment would be too obvious.

“She told me to tell you that this was not for you, it was for your horse.” He chuckled. “She has some pride, that one.”

“Yeah.”

“How long you gonna wait?”

Zeke looked up. “For what?”

“To go after her. I’ll come feed this monster. We’ve kinda gotten used to each other.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not going after her. She knows where I am if she wants to live this kind of life.”

George snorted. “You’re a real easy man to approach, too, aren’t you, Zeke?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve got ‘no trespassing” written on every bone of your body. If you want that woman, you’ll have to go get her.”

“She knows where I am,” he repeated stubbornly. But for one minute, he wished he were another sort of man, one that could give Mattie that home and family she wanted so much. But she knew his terms—no commitments and no children. And he didn’t think she’d go for it.

* * *

It wasn’t until the trial was over that she admitted to herself that she’d really expected Zeke to show up. It had taken two weeks, but the jury deliberated exactly one hour before returning with a guilty verdict. Brian Murphy would be in prison a long, long time.

As she walked into her small apartment bedroom, finally free, Mattie at last admitted Zeke wasn’t going to come after her.

It was painful to admit she’d been hoping just that all these weeks. His expression that last day, that loneliness and need she’d seen at the pool, had given her hope.

She brushed sticky hair back from her sticky forehead. He’d told her it would be this way. She just hadn’t accepted it.

With a sigh, she began to collect her things. At least she’d been able to arrange to have Othello returned to him, so he wouldn’t be so utterly alone. Maybe that was all she could do for him.

It was time to face facts and make choices.

One thing was clear: she would not stay in Kansas City. Thanks to Zeke’s unselfishness, she had a fat, healthy bank account, money that gave her more freedom than she’d ever dreamed could exist. Not only could she leave Kansas City forever, she was free to choose any place in the world she wanted to live, and go there.

Colorado or Arizona?

Packing her thin, worn tank top and shorts, she grinned wryly. They really were ugly. Maybe something else she should do was buy some new clothes. Her bra pinched her when she bent, and she shifted it back into place, wincing a little at the tenderness of her breasts. None of her bras fit right at the moment and—

Her heart started pounding. Holding a pair of jeans in her hands, she sank down on the bed, trying to remember how long it had been since she’d dropped that blasted box of tampons in front of Zeke at her cabin in Kismet.

Almost three months.

Breathlessly, she tried to calm her racing thoughts, so she could think clearly. She’d often been irregular in her cycle when she was younger, and had attributed this irregularity to stress and change in her life. But three months was a long time. And sore breasts. And the nausea before the trial. And her sleepiness.

Sitting there with her clothes scattered all around her, her life in total upheaval, Mattie bent her head and touched her belly. A baby.

A baby.

Forever and ever she’d wanted her own family, people to love and care for. She’d imagined a whole family unit, mother and father and child, with animals and messes and chaos.

A baby.

She remembered each time she’d made love to Zeke and wondered which one had resulted in this child. The wild moment in the shower? The tender times through the night?

Joy welled up inside her, cutting through surprise and dismay with a blazing, cleansing light. A baby. It didn’t matter that the details were not exactly what she’d hoped or that the union that produced the child had not been blessed by the Holy Church.

She was going to have a child, Zeke’s child.

That changed everything.

* * *

Snow came early to the southern Rockies, and this year was no exception. The first snow began to fall just past the middle of September. Zeke was prepared with hay for the horses, plenty of food for himself, the truck serviced and gassed up. Stacks of wood were piled by the cabin and the sauna.

In the snowy dusk, he went out to feed the horses. Othello whinnied in greeting, head tossing in cheerful acknowledgement of the flakes drifting down in sparkling wonder. Nearby, calmly watching the landscape, was a new Appaloosa mare. Zeke had sold his motorcycle and used part of the money to put a down payment on a loan to buy her.

The rest of the loan he’d used for a very practical purpose—he hired an electrician to wire the cabin, and he’d added a room at the back of the house, with views of the mountains. It was a little strange to be able to flip a switch and have a light come on, but he was getting used to it. He had to admit it was nice to have a refrigerator again.

The work had kept him distracted somewhat. Now he had to face a long, gaping winter with nothing to fill it. Weren’t many projects a man could tackle in the mountains in the winter.

He’d called Kismet again last week. Not a word from Mattie since the last time he’d called, when she reported Brian was safely in prison.

As he shoveled the stalls, he gave himself a talk. Maybe George and Roxanne were right. What was he gaining by cloaking himself in stubborn pride? He missed the woman with a relentless, aching pain that never went away. His first thought in the morning was Mattie. He drifted off to sleep thinking of her. At night, his dreams were filled with the feeling of her, all around him.

After all those years and all those women, Zeke was in love. It was a lot harder than he thought it would be. A much bigger problem than he’d expected. He couldn’t shove it under a carpet in his mind and let it go away. Not that he didn’t try.

It just kept crawling out. He’d be playing with Tommy and wonder how Mattie felt about dogs. He rode through the mountains, on his own land on his own horse, and wanted to teach her how to ride. The gentle mare was made for a small woman like Mattie, and Zeke hadn’t given the animal a name.

He sighed and shook his head. He didn’t want to go through this winter without her. He didn’t want another day to pass without seeing her again. If he didn’t at least try, he’d be lost the rest of his life.

In the corrals beyond the barn, the horses whinnied. Tommy, who’d been happily snuffling through the stables, jumped up and started barking urgently. The puppy rushed to the doors.

Curious over who in the world would have made the trek up here in this kind of weather, he propped his shovel against the wall, brushed off his jeans and ambled out.

Mattie.

H
is heart slammed to a stop. As the blood stilled in his body, he stared at her, wondering with a blank sense of unreality if his longing had conjured her up. She stood uncertainly by the fence, wearing a pretty coat of purple and green with gold in a brocade pattern all over it, and jeans. And a good pair of Zodiac boots with low heels. Her hair gleamed in the pinkish light, and fat clumps of snow stuck to it.

“I hope you meant it,” she said at last. “I took you up on your invitation.”

The blood in his body unfroze, and rushed through him in a blistering wash. He didn’t move, afraid if he did, he’d overwhelm her. “I’m glad.”

Slowly, he crossed the space between them, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe properly. Close to her, he stopped. “You mind if I give you a welcome hug?”

The wide brown eyes flickered. “No,” she said softly. “Not at all.”

Zeke bent and wrapped his arms around her. She flowed into his embrace as if she were pieces lost from him, and he held her close, so close, breathing in the smell of her hair, the feel of her small, rounded body, the feel of her hair against his cheek. He closed his eyes, almost dizzy with the reality of her, now, next to him. “It hasn’t been the same without you, Miss Mary.”

Once he had her, he didn’t want to let go, and they stood there, rocking slowly together in the falling snow, until Tommy got jealous and jumped on their legs. He yapped and made a soft whine.

Mattie chuckled and eased away. “Who is this?” She knelt, smiling, to rub the puppy’s head.

“Tommy.”

“What a cutie,” she said in a sweet dog-voice. Tommy fell instantly in love, and jumped up to lick her face.

Zeke knew just how he felt. “You want to go in and have some coffee?” he asked, trying to remember to be civilized.

“Sure.” She stuck her hands in her pockets. “I hope this isn’t a bad time or anything. I didn’t have any way to call and warn you.”

“No time would be a bad time,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She smiled, but there was something hesitant still. He didn’t want to acknowledge anything uneven just yet, though. It was enough to just have her here. “I have a surprise for you. Come on.”

Mattie followed him in, and the smile on her face was worth the hassles of the wiring when he flipped the switch and a lamp at the table side came on. “Ta-da,” he said with a flourish, gesturing. “Lamps. Radio—” He flipped it on, and just as quickly off when the sound intruded. “Even a fridge. So you can have real milk in your coffee.”

She laughed. “I’m amazed you could get so much done so fast.”

Fast. It seemed like a hundred years since he’d seen her last. A thousand. “Let me take your coat.”

Admiring the new appliances, she absently took it off and looked up to give it to him, her eyes shining. Below the coat, she wore a soft, gauzy blouse with long, romantic sleeves and a scoop neck. Her waist was accentuated with a belt made of silver conchos, and swinging from her ears were silver feathers. He lifted an eyebrow. “You got you some new clothes.”

“Yes, I did.” She grinned. “Do you like them?”

“Look like you were born and raised in the West.”

She smoothed her palms on her jeans. “Thanks. The amazing thing is, I have more than just these. A whole closet full of clothes.”

The silky fabric of her blouse clung to her breasts with a loving hand. The jeans hugged her generous hips. “Puts a man in mind of things other than coffee,” he said, and was amazed to hear his voice was hoarse.

“Does it?” she said in a near whisper.

“I’d sure like to kiss you.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” she said, and swallowed.

He tossed her coat on the chair and moved swiftly to take her face in his hands and press his mouth to hers. Her hands fell on his wrists, and when their lips met, she made a tiny little sound, almost pained.

He got dizzy. Dizzy as if he’d been on a merry-go-round for ten minutes, so dizzy he nearly swayed. And it made him dip again, taste her gently, sweetly. “Oh, Mattie,” he sighed and pulled her close to kiss her properly. “I missed you so much.”

It seemed right, natural, to lead her into the new bedroom, with its wide views of the mountains, now obscured with falling snow. A room he’d built with her in mind, a room with thick braided rugs on the floor and a nice lamp.

But he trembled as he unbuttoned her blouse, for there was too much inside of him. Too much. He skimmed off her blouse and touched her breasts and waist, kissed one pert nipple as gently as he could. And pulled her close again, feeling her nakedness against him.

“I love you, Mattie,” he whispered against her ear.

The words released something, and he said it again. “I love you.”

“Zeke,” she said in a strangled voice, her fingers clutching his body. He felt a wash of moisture on her face and lifted her chin to kiss the tears.

“I love you,” he whispered, and lifted her gently in his arms. They made love slowly, with a savoring hunger born of weeks of longing. He took the time to kiss the round of her shoulder and the crook of her arm, the gentle rise of her belly and the curve of a thigh.

Even their climax seemed calm and full and deep, rocking and rippling, not wild or fierce. As they lay together sated, Mattie said, “I love you.”

He braced himself on his arms and kissed her, his hair falling around their faces like a curtain. “Will you stay?”

She hesitated. “We need to talk, Zeke.”

The tone of her voice sent a bolt of fear through him, but he didn’t want to give this up yet, this feeling of being whole; of the world, for one brief instant, being right. “Not yet, Mattie. Let me just love you.”