Someone Like You (16 page)

If she had possessed an ounce of wit, she would have handed the plate to him, but she was caught off guard by his appearance. It had been a long, long time since she had seen a man’s naked legs. The sight brought back a flood of memories. All unpleasant.

She stepped inside and carried the plate to the table, where she deposited it in a businesslike manner. “I’m afraid it’s cold, but it should stick to your ribs.”

When she turned around, he was blocking her way. His gray eyes seemed hidden and dark. His hair was mussed, and he looked at her in a sleepy way. He wobbled on his feet a bit, and she was reminded of just how drunk he really was. She started around him.

His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. “What’s your hurry?”

“I need to get on back.”

“What for? It’s a little early to be going to bed. If you thought enough to bring me something to eat, the least you can do is keep me company.”

She took a step back. He released her wrist. She looked around. “Where’s your silverware?”

“What do you need silverware for?”

“Do you intend to eat with your hands?”

“It’s in the drawer over there,” he said, “but I don’t intend to eat. As for my hands, I can think of something better for them to hold than silverware.”

“I should have let you go to bed hungry.”

“Yes, you should have, but you are here now, and I’m a bit too drunk to act in a civilized manner.”

“Go to bed and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

“There is nothing to forget—yet.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not so certain I do. You are a woman of contradictions. You are not what you seem. You bedevil me. You’re seductive as hell one minute, as innocent as a babe the next.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is. You knew exactly what you were doing when you came out here.”

“I only came out here to bring you something to eat. I saw you ride in. A fool could see you’d been drinking. I felt it was partly my fault.”

“Correction. It was all your fault.”

“I was trying to make amends.”

“Why?”

“I don’t believe in letting the sun go down on anger.”

“Don’t start getting biblical on me.”

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Why? Because you thought I was too drunk to pick up on the biblical reference, or because I have some knowledge of the Bible?”

“Both.”

“Why are you here?”

“I told you.”

“You better leave now, because—”

“Why?”

“Because you came out here all soft and sweet-smelling and playing on a man’s desire. I’m drunk and I’m a man. Don’t you understand what that means? What are you trying to do to me? Do you want me to make love to you? Is that it?”

“Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it, because it wouldn’t have done you any good. I’m not interested.”

“That makes two of us, then, and if you’ll get out of my way, I’ll get out of here and leave you to brood and wallow in whatever sins of the past you are running from.”

She knew the moment the words left her mouth that she had said too much, that for once she had goaded him beyond even what his gentlemanly manner would take. Before she could think about escape, she found herself hauled up against him, her words muffled against the hard, unforgiving mouth that covered hers.

He kissed her deeply and with rough abandon, as if by doing so he could leave her feeling used and cheap.

When he broke the kiss, he held her at arm’s length. “I have loved only one woman in my life and I lost her. I have no desire to love anyone ever again. But I am a man, and I have a man’s wants and needs. If you are interested, then by all means let’s explore the possibilities. If not, then stay the hell away from me.” He released her. “Well? What’s it to be? Your bed or mine?”

She slapped him harder than she intended. She looked away, afraid to see the expression in his eyes. But when she did look at him, she was surprised by what she saw.

“I deserved that, I suppose. Perhaps it was good that it happened this way. Now you know. In the future you would do well to remember what could have happened here tonight. You think about that the next time you feel the urge to come out here to relieve your guilt.”

She hurried around him, pausing at the door, and said, “It was a good thing you lost the woman you loved. You would have made her life miserable.”

“Oh, I did worse than that,” he said bitterly. “Believe me. I did much, much worse.”

Chapter Fourteen

The following Sunday morning Susannah was up early. After breakfast she went to the barn to fetch a halter and lead rope. Then she walked out into the pasture where the horses grazed. As soon as she saw Rosebud was not there, she remembered letting her out into the bigger pasture the day before.

Well, she thought, there was nothing to be done about it now. She would simply have to go after Rosebud. It wasn’t so much the going after her that Susannah minded, but the unfortunate circumstance of having to pass by the little house where Reed stayed.

She walked toward his house, forcing herself to focus on what a lovely morning it was, which wasn’t too difficult—until she neared his open window and heard him talking.

She paused and listened, wondering whom he could be talking to. Her aunts were at home, she knew, for they hadn’t finished dressing for church when she’d left. Who else could it possibly be?

She was about to move on down the path, when she realized that it was only
his
voice she heard. She listened a bit longer and understood then that he must be talking in his sleep.

She heard the bedsprings creak beneath his weight, the hollow sound of the brass headboard when it clanged against the wall. The bed creaked again. Her heartbeat escalated. She imagined him tossing restlessly in his sleep and saw vividly the sheet tangled around the long, muscled legs she remembered so well. Suddenly he cried out.

“Philippa…you don’t know what you’re saying. Don’t ask me to do this. Please. Trust me. I know he’s your father, but he is wrong. Trust me…”

Suddenly she heard an agonizing sound, as if someone were being tortured. Over and over he moaned pitifully, and Susannah had to fight the urge to go to him, to offer him comfort.

But she remembered what had happened the last time she went to him. Without a backward glance, she hurried toward the pasture to find Rosebud so they would make it to church on time.

If there was anything she needed today, it most definitely was to go to church.

A warm patch of sunlight on his face woke Reed. He looked at the clock next to his bed, unable to believe he had slept so late, even if it was Sunday.

After he dressed and finished his coffee, he stepped outside and saw Susannah leading Rosebud from the pasture.

“Need any help?” he called.

“No, thank you. I can manage.”

He stepped off the porch and walked up the narrow path that joined the one she used. She slowed down a bit, then stopped. Something he was happy to see, for she did look fetching in that yellow dress. The color did something wonderful to her hair, and it brought out the gold flecks in her eyes.

“I’m driving my aunts to church, and I’ve got to hurry.”

“Why are you running so late?”

“Ask her,” Susannah replied, indicating Rosebud. “I had to chase this blasted horse all over the pasture. She wouldn’t come even when I offered her oats.”

He reached out and took the lead rope. “I’ll hitch her to the buggy; then I’ll drive you to town.”

“I wasn’t hinting for your help. After all, it’s your day off.”

He shrugged. “One day is pretty much like another. I’ve nothing better to do.” He started walking and Rosebud trotted behind.

Susannah fell in step with him. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he said, and pulled ahead.

“Reed?”

“Hmmm?”

“Could I talk to you?”

He slowed the mare. “About what?”

“I…I want to apologize for what I did the other night…for coming to your place and invading your privacy.”

“No apology needed. The fault was mine. I had too much to drink.”

“Regardless of whose fault it was, I am sorry it happened. My aunts are sensitive women. They’ve grown accustomed to…to having you around. They don’t understand why you don’t drop in anymore, and they miss your visits in the evenings.”

He stopped and looked at her. “And you?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Me?”

“Are your aunts the only ones who miss my visits?”

“No…no, of course not. Your presence is a nice diversion.”

Well, he had wondered where he stood with her, hadn’t he? He shook his head. “That’s a first. I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a nice diversion.”

“Who is Philippa?” she blurted. He felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. For a moment he was sure his body was turning to stone, and he was helpless to do anything about it. Every muscle seemed to grow rock hard. Not even the sudden gust of breeze disturbed his hair. It was as if he and the world around him shut down the moment she said that name. Philippa… Oh God, Philippa. Would he ever be free of the pain?

He saw the soft look in her eyes. What touched her? Was it his grief, his sorrow, or his anger that reached out and touched her?

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Where did you hear that name?”

“You said it.”

“When?”

“Not too long ago this morning…when I passed by your house on my way to get Rosebud. I couldn’t help hearing you talk. At first I thought you had a visitor, but then I realized it was your voice only that I heard. I figured you must have been dreaming. You cried out. The window was open. It’s a still morning. The sound carried. I didn’t mean to pry.”

They were standing stock-still, staring at each other. Suddenly, Reed said, “Philippa was my wife.”

She looked as if someone had sucked the breath out of her, and because of that, her next words were weakly spoken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t know. How could you?”

“I am very sorry.”

“Don’t worry overmuch. The wound is not as fresh as it once was.” He felt strange saying that, but he realized it was true. Actually, he was glad that Susannah knew he’d been married.

Susannah did not ask any more questions, and Reed did not volunteer any more information. They started walking to the house again and soon reached where her aunts waited.

Reed drove them to church, finding he enjoyed the outing on such a fine, sunny morning as much as they did. The buggy moved slowly through the flat terrain, passing old, abandoned farmhouses and a few thickets of mesquite, where they jumped a covey of quail that took flight with a whirring of wings.

During the trip, he cast a glance or two at Susannah. She was perched on the edge of the seat as if she were ready to flap her wings and take flight, just like the quail. Normally when he drove them to church, she would have an expectant look on her face and her eyes would be alert, taking everything in. Today her expression was different, one of deep speculation. He knew she was mulling over what he told her, trying to put two and two together. He figured her biggest question was about what had happened to Philippa.

He wasn’t ready to answer that question just yet.

They arrived at church a little ahead of schedule. Violette told Reed to pick them up at half past twelve. “If you have anything you want to do, go on and do it; then come back here.”

“I don’t have anything pressing. I guess I’ll just hang around.”

“Then why don’t you join us inside?” Aunt Vi asked.

He gave her a teasing smile. “Worried about my ornery hide?”

“No, it’s the rest of you that I’m worried about. Sure you won’t change your mind and join us?”

“I’ve never been much of a religious man.”

“Interesting,” Violette said, “that a man with no religion would know the
Song of Solomon
.”

“I was religious…once.”

“Then join us and try being so again.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“I’ve turned my back on the church.”

“And God?”

He shrugged. “You can’t have one without the other.”

“Why did you turn away?”

He looked off into the distance. “Because God turned away from me.”

“God never turns his back on His sheep, although it may seem that way for a time. Have you never read the book of
Job
?”

“A long time ago.”

She thrust her Bible at him. “Then I suggest you try reading it again. You might be surprised at what you find.”

Reed took the Bible. “For instance?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that God might be testing you, that he has allowed your faith to be tried, just as Job’s was? Don’t you remember that in the end, because Job had persevered, God restored everything he had taken from him, but in greater abundance?
‘Oh ye of little faith.’
”

He looked from Violette to Susannah, but he saw no encouragement in her eyes. “Thanks for the invitation, but I think it’s a little late for me.”

“Don’t be so certain. Even the blackest sheep can become as white as snow.”

“In my case, that would take a miracle,” Reed said. “A real honest-to-God miracle.”

“Miracles always happen against overwhelming odds. Otherwise they wouldn’t be miracles.”

“You’re a shrewd old woman and I like you.”

“You’re a lost lamb and I like you, too.”

“Well, when you two get through liking each other, do you think you could help me down?” Dahlia asked.

Everyone laughed and Reed said, “Always happy to oblige a woman who knows her own mind.”

Just as he extended a hand to help Dahlia down from the buggy, Reed caught a glimpse of Tate Trahern who was sitting with Daisy in a buggy. He must have seen Susannah, because he stopped talking. Reed paused a moment to observe how Tate followed Susannah’s every move. The man was a real bastard, Reed thought. Tate might be sitting by the woman who carried his child, but it was Susannah who captured his attention, Susannah he wanted.

Susannah must have sensed that Tate was gazing at her, for she glanced at him once, then turned her head away as if hiding behind the protective curve of her bonnet.

“I’ll take Aunt Dally on inside,” she said, grasping her aunt’s arm.

“I’ll be along in a minute,” Violette said. “I want to say something to Maude Whittaker.”

Reed moved to Violette’s side. “Tell me about Tate and Susannah,” Reed said. “Besides her dousing him with a basin of water, was there ever any real romance there?”

Violette glanced at Tate. “No. He came out to our place a dozen times or so, but Susannah wouldn’t have anything to do with him. He got real angry once when he asked her to a dance and she wouldn’t go. He’s a possessive sort, and he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. I thought he’d never get over her spurning him. He was sweet on her for a long, long time.”

“It doesn’t look like he’s gotten over anything. I’d say he’s pretty sweet on her right now.”

Violette gave Tate another quick glance. “Yes, it does look that way, doesn’t it? I feel sorry for poor Daisy. I don’t think Tate gives a flip for her. In fact, I don’t think he is capable of giving a flip for anyone except himself. I blame his pa for that. He ruined Tate by giving him everything.”

“My father gave me everything, but I don’t think it ruined me.”

She smiled. “No, it sure didn’t.” She paused a moment, then put her hand on Reed’s arm. “Be careful around Tate. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s obvious he’s jealous of your working for us, of your being so close to Susannah. He’s a troublemaker, Reed. For that reason, I was always glad Susannah never paid him any mind.”

“I can handle Trahern,” Reed said.

“It isn’t just Tate you have to worry about, though. He’s got all those hands who work for his pa.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Violette nodded. She walked over to where Maude Whittaker and Miss Abby Hungerford were standing.

Reed stayed put, watching Susannah as she and her aunt walked up the church steps. They paused just outside the door when Sam Smith said something to her and Susannah stopped a moment to talk to turn.

Susannah and Sam talked for a minute before Jess Oliver joined them. They stood there talking for quite a spell, occasionally punctuating their conversation with a burst of laughter. Much to his surprise, Reed found Susannah to be lively and animated. It wasn’t that she hated men, Reed realized, but that she seemed threatened by men who might see her as a woman. He didn’t speculate further, for at that moment he saw Tate approaching Susannah. With her back to him, Susannah didn’t see him coming. When Tate reached Susannah, he took her by the arm and led her to one side. Even from where he stood, Reed could see Tate was standing closer to Susannah than propriety allowed. He could see, too, that it angered her.

Reed started in their direction when he felt a hand on his arm. “She can take care of herself,” Violette said. “She’s been rebuffing him for years. I don’t think he would ever harm her, but if you interfere, it could create quite a stir. I don’t want her humiliated like that.”

Reed stood still, clenching his fists. He could not believe his eyes when he saw Tate lean toward Susannah as if he intended to kiss her.