Lacy (45 page)

Later, though, she asked if Wardell was his
banker.

"You can't tell Katy," he cautioned.

She linked her arms around his neck and reached
up to kiss him. "I never will. But I'm very glad to have a friend like Mr.
Wardell. We'll have to make sure he doesn't ever regret his decision."

"Oh, I intend to," Cole agreed. Then
he bent again to Lacy's mouth and forgot about Wardell entirely. Cole had
managed to pull the ranch out without having to rely on Lacy's inheritance,
which saved his pride. Lacy didn't mind. If they were playing even a small part
in the rehabilitation of a notorious racketeer like Blake Wardell, she was
delighted. It was a shame that Katy couldn't love him. Maybe someday he'd get
over her and find a woman who could.

Katy was pacing the floor at midnight, still
overwhelmed by the events of the day. Her mind was clear for the first time
since Danny's death, but she wasn't sure how she was going to manage Turk's
proposal. Marriage was serious business. What if they went through with it and
he discovered too late that he didn't want to stay married? That could happen,
since he was doing it under duress. He'd sworn that he couldn't live without
Katy, but he was overwrought himself. It probably all stemmed from the loss of
the baby triggering old wounds.

The sound at the window distracted her and she
went slowly to the curtains to look out. She hadn't changed for bed, which was
a good thing. Turk was standing under her window throwing pebbles at it. He was
wearing his work clothes, except for his chaps; his hat tilted back over a face
that looked younger than it had in years. He was smiling as well.

"Come out," he invited.

She opened the window. "Turk, do you have
any idea what time it is?" she gasped. "And it's freezing!" He
had a thick denim jacket on, but Katy was in her sleeves, and the wind was
cold.

"I'll keep you warm, baby doll," he
said. His smile was possessive. "Come on."

She kept telling herself all the way to the back
door why she should ignore him and go to bed. But nothing worked. Turk was so
much a part of her that she couldn't refuse him.

Careful not to wake the household, Katy eased
down the back steps, her coat hastily thrown around her.

Turk was waiting at the bottom of the steps.
Without a word, he looped his arm around her shoulders and walked her toward
the corral, where a single white mare pranced in the cold moonlight.

"I'd like a church service," he said.
"Wouldn't you?"

She stared straight ahead, her face stony.
"I'm not fit to walk into a church anymore."

He turned toward her, big and comforting. His
hand tilted her face up to his soft gray eyes. "What do you think church
is for?" he asked. "Perfect people?There aren't any churchgoers who
have never done anything wrong, Katy. The whole purpose of it is to reform
sinners." He tugged gently at a long lock of brown hair near her ear.
"I've got more on my conscience than you have on yours, I expect. We'll
start going to services once we're married. It will be good for the kids."

She flushed and averted her eyes.

"It hurts you to talk about children,
doesn't it?" he asked perceptively. "But you won't lose the next
one," he added quietly. "Nobody and nothing will hurt you
again."

Her eyes landed on his big boots, dusty and
stained from hard work. He wasn't a slacker, whatever else he was. He worked as
hard as Cole did. He was a good man. He'd take care of her, even if he didn't
love her the way she loved him. But, she wondered, wasn't she doing the same
thing Blake had refused to do— marrying without being loved?

"I can't marry you," she said, her
voice barely carrying even in the stillness. "If I'd pleaded enough, Blake
might have taken me away, knowing I didn't love him. But I don't want to do
that to you any more than he wanted to do it to me. Love on one side isn't
enough."

"You don't love Wardell," he said
curtly.

"I wasn't talking about me. I was talking
about you. You still belong to your wife." Her chest rose and fell
heavily. "You always will. I'd never be anything more than a poor second
choice."

"That isn't true. It might have been, the
first year I was here. But not for a long time now, Katy." He propped a
booted foot on the lowest rail of the corral and studied her wan, sad face.
"I told you in town: You mean everything to me. If I lost you, nothing
would matter."

"You'll always resent my marriage, and what
happened with Blake..."

He put a big thumb over her lips to stay the
words. His pale eyes glittered in the moonlight. "I'm jealous of Wardell
because I know he'd lay down his life for you. That's hard to swallow. But I'm
not going to throw it up to you, not ever."

"You did," she accused.

"That was before I realized how you felt
about me. You see, I'd convinced myself that you were in love with Wardell. I thought
you'd taken those damned pills because you didn't want to live without
him."

She hated remembering what she'd done. Her lips
trembled as they formed words. "It was because of the way you talked about
what happened with him. I was certain that you thought me too low and soiled to
ever want me again. I.. .couldn't have stayed here any longer, and it wasn't
fair to Blake to ask him to rescue me. I thought I was sparing us all any more
heartache."

"By killing yourself?" he asked, his
voice husky with anguish. "My God!"

"I love you," she said miserably,
averting her eyes. "And when you said what you did that day, I thought it
meant you couldn't bear what I'd become. It hurt."

Her voice broke on the words, and his jaw
tautened with feeling. His arms enfolded her with exquisite tenderness,
cradling her against his tall, strong body while the wind blew violently around
them, wafting her hair up near his face, drowning him in its flower scent.

"You won't believe I can love you back.
Why?"

"Because..." She shrugged.

His hand smoothed her hair. "That part of
my life is over. But I'm still alive, and I can't climb into the grave with
her. I want children,"he whispered into her ear. "Sons and daughters
to spoil. Most of all, I want you. Nothing was the same after you left. I lost
my taste for living without you."

She smiled wistfully, because she didn't believe
a word of it. She'd spent too many years breaking her heart over him to think
he'd changed his mind so drastically in such a short time. Perhaps he felt he
owed it to Cole to save her reputation. She had, after all, been carrying his
child.

He saw her expression and his chest lifted and
fell with resignation. "I don't know why I expect you to believe me,"
he said abruptly. "I've spent years avoiding you or criticizing you,
anything to keep you at arm's length. The day you left, even after I seduced
you, I told you there could never be a future for us. I suppose you remember
every word of it, all the hurtful things."

"You were kind to me when I came home from Chicago," she recalled. "Even though you must have thought I deserved everything
I got."

"Deserved it?" He lifted his head,
scowling. "Why?"

She shifted. "I'd already been intimate
with you, almost wanton," she murmured, with flaming embarrassment.
"Then, in Chicago, I ran wild."

"Out of hurt." His broad shoulders
lifted and fell. "Katy, I'm sorry," he said huskily. "I didn't
really know how I felt until it was too late. I don't hold you responsible for
anything. When I think about how that rat Marlone treated you, I get sick all
over. If it hadn't been for Wardell, as much as I hate to say it, he might very
well have killed you."

Her attention settled on the horse in the
corral. "At that time, I don't guess it would have made any difference to
me. I'd given up. Life seemed to be one endless agony, especially after I lost
the baby."

"We can have another baby," he said
curtly. "Only this one will be wanted, planned, hoped for."

She twisted a tuft of fur in her nervous
fingers. "You don't want someone like me," she protested.

"What are you saying?" He framed her
face in his hands. "Damn it, Katy. I love you!"

Time seemed to stop dead. She stared at him.
"You don't mean that," she whispered.

"Oh, but I do," he said, bending. His
mouth brushed hers roughly. "I mean it with all my heart," he ground
out as his lips covered hers.

She shivered at the depth of feeling his kiss
aroused. She wanted to protest, to draw back, to tell him that he didn't have
to pretend. But, oh, it didn't feel as if he were pretending! His arms had a
faint tremor, and his mouth was devouring, passionate. He kissed her as poor
Wardell had—with so much helpless need that his body shuddered.

That he loved her enough to be desperate for her
was more than she could bear. She made a tiny sound against his mouth and then
melted into him willingly, sliding her arms under his and around him, moving
close, into an intimate embrace. It was the first time since Danny's death that
she'd really felt whole. Turk was her world, as he always had been. It was
incredible that he should love her.

Tears ran hotly down her cheeks, into the
corners of his mouth. He tasted their salty warmth and drew back to look at
her.

"Why?" he asked gently, wiping them
with his fingers.

"I never dreamed you could love me,"
she sobbed.

He smiled tenderly. "You're as blind as I
was, aren't you, little one?" he whispered.

"I must be. Turk, am I dreaming?" she
asked.

He bent his head. "Let's see."

Seconds later, he could barely breathe at all.
He groaned against her mouth and pulled her even closer, his hands low on her
waist, possessive as he fought the need that aroused him to fever pitch.

"We.. .mustn't," she whispered
unsteadily.

He wasn't listening. His mind was on Katy, on
feeding the hunger that gnawed at his insides.

A sudden, sharp noise echoed from the house, and
Turk's head jerked up. He glanced toward the darkened windows as the sound came
again. He began to chuckle.

"What is it?" Katy asked dazedly.

"Just a little reassurance that we don't
have to worry about interruptions," he said enigmatically. He caught his
breath, watching her possessively while she flushed with the memory of her
headlong response. "No more looking behind us, Katy," he said softly.
"Only ahead. All right?"

She nodded. "If you're sure..."

"Oh, I'm sure,"he whispered, bending
again toward her mouth. He kissed her gently, so that things didn't get out of
hand again, and released her. "Go back inside. We'll talk some more
tomorrow. But we're getting married Friday, just the same."

"You arrogant cowboy," she said, with
exasperation.

He tipped his hat. "Yes, ma'am." He
took her arm and propelled her toward the back door and into the kitchen.
"Now, you go to bed..."

His voice trailed off at the sight of Cole in a
long, thick robe heating up chocolate on the stove.

"What the hell are you two doing outside at
this hour?" Cole demanded.

Turk pursed his lips. "Nothing
anymore," he said. "Too much noise out there."

Cole actually flushed. Katy looked from one man
to the other uncomprehendingly. Masculine secrets, she supposed.

"Good night, then," she said softly,
smiling at Turk before she went out and closed the door.

Both men said good night, but Cole waited until
the door was closed and footsteps were dying away before he jumped down Turk's
throat.

"I only meant we heard the slats
falling," Turk assured him in mid-tirade, "and Katy didn't even know
what it was. So save your vocabulary for the cowboys, if you please. I'm
shocked by such language."

"Shocked by it? My God! You invented half
of it in France!"

"I'm reformed. I'm going to marry your
sister and have kids."

Cole relented. "I guess you want my
blessing," he said, taking the hot chocolate off the stove and filling two
mugs with it.

"Not especially," Turk said with
maddening imperturbability. "I'm going to marry Katy. You can try to stop
me if you feel lucky."