Diamond Spur (38 page)

Mrs. Donavan smiled. "For a little while. But you see, I have Mends in Tucson, Kate. People my age, whom I've known for a long time. They're all the family I've had, and Tucson is home. Eventually, I'll want to go back. But by then, I hope we'll be good friends, and that you'll visit me with Jason."

"That will be delightful. We'll bring your grandchildren with us." "I thought I'd never have that kind of pleasure," Nell confessed. She stared up at the canopy with sad eyes. "We expect so much from life. And sometimes, we get so little. It's important to appreciate what we have." She turned her head. "I think Jason has it wrong. I think you want him far more than you want fame. If you do, tell him so now. Don't let him go, Kate. He needs you more than he realizes." "I'm not about to let him go, Mama Donavan," she replied gently. "Now you go to sleep. I'll

see you in the morning."

"Yes. Good night."

"Good night."

Kate closed the door with a sigh, turning out the light on the way. The hall was quiet and

deserted, only the wall sconces providing enough gleam for safe walking.

She turned down the hall. She'd only gone about five steps when Jason appeared in his

doorway, watching her, with a smoking cigarette in one hand.

"Where did you plan to sleep?" he asked softly. "The guest room has the only made-up bed,

except for mine."

She moved closer, until she was close enough to feel the heat from his body, smell the thin smoke

from his cigarette. "I guess I can sleep on the sofa...."

"Won't you be uncomfortable?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"Want to sleep with me?" he asked hesitantly. "Just sleep," he added, so that she wouldn't get

the wrong idea. "It's a big bed."

"Okay." She stopped. "My gown is in the guest room," she said, hesitating. She'd been sleeping there since he left, but Mama Donavan was in it now. "You can have one of my pajama jackets," he offered. "I never use them." "Thank you." He closed the door behind them and searched through his chest of drawers, tossing her a pale

blue silk jacket. "How's that?" "Fine," she said. She hesitated, framed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. This was ridiculous. They were married, weren't they? With a resigned sigh, she took off her clothes and as she shed the bra, she noticed his dark eyes blatantly on her swollen breasts, the tips darker than usual, bigger.

And because of the way he was looking at her, with something like reverence, she turned slowly toward him, to let him see. Her lips parted on a rough breath at the intent, hungry expression on his face as he let his eyes caress her boldly.

"You're beautiful, Kate," he said quietly. "Every inch of you."

"I'm very swollen," she whispered.

"Isn't that natural, for your condition?" he whispered back.

"You knew...when I was talking about not telling you if I ever got pregnant again," she said, shocked.

He nodded, smiling gently. "Sheila mentioned it to Gene. But I knew you'd tell me in your own good time. I guess that's what you're doing right now. I remember what your body looked like when you were pregnant before. I recognize those subtle changes."

"I'll get fat," she breathed. "I'll look like a pumpkin with arms." "Yes." He moved closer, his hands slow and exquisitely gentle as they touched her, cupping the tender weight of her breasts. "I'll take good care of you."

"Haven't you always, in spite of everything?" she mused. She held his hands to her body, loving their rough strength. "I haven't been to the doctor. But I'm almost sure," she whispered, pulling his hands closer. "Are you glad?" she asked, looking up with her heart in her soft green eyes.

"Yes, I'm glad," he whispered. He bent, lifting her clear off the floor. He carried her the few steps to the bed and laid her down, stretching out beside her. "Don't worry," he said, his voice like velvet. "I won't risk this baby. I just want to hold you."

She smiled up at him, loving him with her eyes as he touched her body with tender, patient hands. "Oh, Jason, if I die tomorrow, I won't care now."

"You said that once before," he reminded her. His mouth touched warm, bare skin, making her jerk suddenly with warm pleasure. "Hmmmm," he mused, "I like this, too. I like the very taste of your skin, and you like my mouth on you, don't you?"

"Blackguard," she breathed huskily, gasping when he did it again.

"That's no way to talk to your husband," he mused. He

arched over her, his dark eyes smiling down into hers. "I want a son."

"You may get a daughter."

"I'll divorce you if I don't get a son," he threatened at her parted lips.

"No, you won't," she laughed. "You'll spoil her rotten and then blame me when she gets out of hand."

"I probably will." He lifted his head and searched her eyes quietly. "I'll love any child you give me," he said softly. "But not half as much as I'll love his mother. Not a fraction as much as I love you, tidbit," he breathed, bending.

The words went into her mouth as his covered it with aching tenderness and soft hunger. He moved down, his chest rubbing gently against her breasts, and he reached between them suddenly to pull his shirt out of the way so that he could feel her softness against his bare chest.

Kate wondered if she'd heard him, or if she was dreaming. It sounded so unreal to hear him say that he loved her. But it felt as though he meant it.

' 'Did you hear me?'' he whispered against her eager lips. "I said I love you."

"I didn't think...I heard you properly." She looked up at him. "Do you, Jason? Really?"

She softened under him, her hips liquid, soft moving and arousing. He groaned at the blatant seduction of them, and she smiled under his mouth. "I want you, too," she whispered. "No, don't pull away. There's nothing to be afraid of. You

won't hurt me or the baby. I want you."

"Kate," he groaned. "The risk...!"

"Darling," she breathed, moving softly, "the only risk is in your mind. This baby is going to happen. Now you just lie still, Mr. Donavan, and let me show you how desperate I am...."

He felt her hands at his belt, and he actually gasped. She'd never touched him like that. She'd never ventured past his belt, but her hands were bold. They trespassed under the fabric that covered him, and he arched up and groaned with a shuddering kind of pleasure at her tentative touch.

"Oh, yes, I like that," she whispered. "I like pleasing you. Up until now, you've had to do it all. But I want to learn. I want to know.. .how to please you. Show me, Jason. Teach me."

He didn't know if he could get enough breath to teach her anything. His body was already shuddering. He pushed her hand hard against him and he found her mouth. And seconds later, explosions of pleasure rippled down his back.

That was only the beginning. She kissed him and caressed him, undressed him and learned his body with her hands and her mouth. And all the while he watched her with delicious disbelief at the things he was letting her do. This, too, was new; this ability to let himself be touched, to give in to her. To deliberately lose control.

She seemed to sense it, because she was smiling. Until he found her mouth and eased her under him. His hands began to smooth down her trembling body, arousing her lazily, bringing her softness gently against his hardness. And then she gave in to him, smiling against his mouth, laughing through the fierce passion, until tremors shot through her and she arched up toward him.

"I love you," she whimpered at the last. "I love you."

"I love you," he whispered into her soft mouth. He moved down against her hungrily, feeling his mind explode into the achingly sweet fulfillment that he only knew with her. He groaned. And finally, there was peace.

"Jason, it's Christmas," she whispered later, lying against his broad, sweaty chest in the darkness. She smiled and kissed his shoulder. "Our first Christmas together." He tangled her fingers with his, feeling his wedding ring on her finger. "Yes." He nuzzled his mouth against her soft hair. "Warm enough?" She was nude, as he was. They'd both been too tired to worry about clothing. "I'm warm enough," she murmured drowsily. She curled closer. "See?"

"You'll see something, if you do much of that," he whispered in her ear. "I'm still hungry."

"So am I." She slid her arm around him. "Again," she murmured, moving sensuously. "Please." "Are you sure?" he asked, and when he leaned over her, she could see the concern in his eyes from the faint light coming through the window.

"This time, I'm sure," she said, smiling. She reached up, her arms soft and loving. "Merry Christmas, my darling."

"Tomorrow," he murmured, "I'll have the moon gift-wrapped for you...."

"Why would I want the moon, when I've got you?" She smiled lovingly, and put her mouth softly to his. Christmas morning dawned, and excitement lay like a soft blanket over the reunited family. Kate and Cherry helped Sheila in the kitchen, while Mama Donavan and her boys got to

know each other all over again. "Isn't it terrific?" Cherry sighed. "Oh, gosh, I never dreamed that Jason would actually go looking for his and Gene's mother." "Neither did I," Sheila confessed.-"But I hoped he would, someday. I didn't know about the

baby that J.B. cost her, but I did know that they never stopped loving each other."

Kate glanced at Sheila. "The gossips always said that you had a crush on J.B."

She smiled. "Gossips always find something to talk about. Honey, I was deeply in love with a man who went to Korea in 1952. He never came back, and I never wanted anybody else. J.B. wasn't my kind of man from the beginning. We'd have fought like cats and dogs, and believe me, that's no way to make a marriage. You have to have things in common."

"But J.B. and Nell did," Cherry said. "Didn't they?"

"They had a lot in common," Sheila agreed. She finished the dressing and put it in the oven to bake in a huge pan. "But once he started drinking, there was no stopping him. Eventually, he let it take him over and destroy his life. It almost destroyed the boys, too. They never talk about him. He left scars on them that they'll never really get over. Jason, especially."

"Oh, he seems to be managing all right," Kate said demurely.

"Don't get smart," Sheila said. "Anybody can get pregnant. Look at Cherry."

Cherry's face lit up. "Kate! Are you pregnant, too?!"

"I don't know yet," Kate replied. "But there's a very good possibility. Although," she added with a dark glance at Sheila, "it's amazing how everybody seemed to know it before I suspected. I seem to remember that Sheila asked me point blank."

"Some of us are perceptive," Sheila returned. She lifted an eyebrow and extended a pan of

boiling potatoes in Kate's general direction, watching Kate fight down nausea. "You did that same

thing when you were pregnant before. Couldn't stand the smell of boiling potatoes. It doesn't take a

mathematician to add two and two."

"It's more like one and one making three," Cherry murmured dryly.

Kate chuckled and Sheila grinned.

They ate Christmas dinner before they opened the presents. Mrs. Donavan seemed to manage

very well without help. She asked Kate to fill a plate for her and tell her where everything was, like

the face on a clock. Kate described beans at three o'clock, turkey at six, and so on until she'd

gone around. Mrs. Donavan grinned and dug in, and she ate heartily.

Kate produced the blue robe first thing. She hadn't wrapped it. She placed it on Mrs.

Donavan's lap and watched the sightless woman touch it, caress it, feel the length and width

and shape of it.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Donavan gasped. "Satin brocade. A robe." She touched it again, lightly. "Kate, it's blue, isn't it?"

Kate laughed delightedly. "Yes!"

"Amazing," Jason murmured.

"Color perception," Gene agreed. "I've read about unsighted people being sensitive to colors, but I didn't believe it until now." "The body compensates," Mrs. Donavan told them. "I hear better than I ever could before. I sense things. It's a nice recompense. Thank you for my robe, Kate."

"I whipped it up last night, while you were talking to Jason and Gene," she admitted.

"You sewed this yourself?" Mrs. Donavan gasped.

"I'm a designer," Kate said proudly, and she smiled at Jason, who didn't fuss or protest. He only smiled back. "You certainly are, if this is a sample of your work. I'll treasure it," the older woman said softly.