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  Bereft, afraid, confused, Ronnie looked at him questioningly. “What’s wrong?”

  Nothing was wrong yet—and he wanted to keep it that way. For her if not for himself. “Ronnie, are you sure?” he asked.

  He was being considerate. If she hadn’t lost her heart to him already, this would have done it. “Oh, God, Cole, this is no time for a debate,” she cried impatiently. Sealing her mouth to his, she sealed both their fates then and there.

  Cole made love to her with a zeal that took him by surprise.

  It didn’t surprise her. Nothing about this man could surprise her. It could only thrill her.

  They sank down onto the velvety green grass carpet, aware only of the heat that radiated from both their bodies, a heat that threatened to burn them to cinders unless they joined together and became one.

  Pulse throbbing throughout him in double time, his lips taking hers over and over again, Cole threaded his fingers through hers. Holding her eyes captive with his own, he drove himself into her very core.

  The heat and tempo increased, being driven up to a height that neither of them had expected or ever experienced before.

  The rhythm in his head drove him, as did her response. In a world all their own, they went faster and faster until the summit had been captured.

  Embracing her and holding her to him for all he was worth, Cole absorbed every sensation that thundered through his veins. Absorbed it and shared it with Ronnie, because, even though he couldn’t express it, she was all things to him.

  And always would be.

  Cole continued to hold her even as the crescendo their lovemaking had created died away and faded into the shadows.

  The urgency slowly left him. The desire did not.

  Cole knew that no matter what happened after this, no matter where life might take each of them, the desire for Ronnie would always be there, always be a part of him. He knew he needed to make his peace with that. In time, he would.

  He exhaled slowly, as if to empty himself of the force that had driven him. He might as well have made a wish to grow wings and fly. It wasn’t about to happen. Not in this lifetime.

  “I’ve missed you, Ronnie,” he whispered against her temple, curtailing the very strong desire to stroke her hair.

  He felt Ronnie smile as she turned into him. “I noticed.”

  He tucked her in against him just a wee bit closer. They would have to get dressed, but that could wait for a while. He just wanted to enjoy the sensation of having her here next to him like this. Naked and his. “Glad that I didn’t bore you.”

  She laughed softly to herself at the improbable notion. “You, Cole, could never bore me. Even if all you did was sit by the window, reading the newspaper.”

  It was an odd scene to conjure up. To his best recollection, he’d never sat by a window, reading a newspaper. “Nice to know your expectations aren’t high.”

  Ronnie raised herself up on her elbow, looking down into his face, her naked body brushing unselfconsciously against his. She ran the tip of her forefinger along his lips.

  “On the contrary,” she told him. “My expectations are very high. And I might as well admit to myself that only you can live up to them.”

  When had longing turned to love? he wondered. Or had he always loved her like this? He couldn’t remember the exact moment, or even the day that it had happened. Only that it seemed always to be a part of his life.

  “Careful what you say in the heat of the moment,” he warned her, running the back of his hand along her cheek. Exciting himself with the thoughts that filled his head. “I’ve got an excellent memory.”

  She laughed again, even more softly this time than before. “You’re right. No more talking,” she declared with finality.

  And before Cole had a chance to ask her if that meant she wanted to get back to repairing the fence that was only halfway done at this point, Ronnie answered his unspoken question by sealing his mouth with her own.

  He drew his head back for a moment and grinned at her, his eyes sliding appreciatively over the dip of her waist.

  “Who am I to argue?” And with that, he kissed her back—and lost himself in her all over again.

  It was a long while before they had a chance—or the strength—to get back to working on the fence.

  Chapter Thirteen

  This wasn’t supposed to have happened.

  The sentence throbbed in Ronnie’s brain as she upbraided herself. She’d been doing that, telling herself that she was making a grave mistake, at least once a day—if not more—ever since that idyllic interlude in the field by the fence with Cole the week before.

  Because, she knew, the moment it had happened, she had opened up a floodgate of emotions. It was like having a suitcase that had been packed to capacity and then jammed shut. When she’d inadvertently opened it, there’d been an explosion that had sent the suitcase’s contents flying out all over the place. To even contemplate returning the items into the suitcase again was hopeless. It just couldn’t be done.

  One taste of heaven made her loath to walk away and once more settle for what had been, until that delicious moment, her life.

  Making love with Cole just made her want to do it all over again.

  And again and again.

  She had become completely insatiable. The very nature of that required, at the very least, a readjustment of her own self-image. She hadn’t realized, until it was there, staring her right in the face, that there was this other side of her—this woman who, the more she got, the more she craved.

  Who knew?

  With the enthusiasm of the teenagers they had once been, she and Cole found creative, inspired ways to be together.

  Stealing moments.

  Stealing interludes.

  And always, always, she found herself wanting more. Looking forward to the next encounter, the next excuse to be with Cole.

  To make love with Cole.

  What in God’s name would she do when she had to return to Seattle? Eventually, the horses would be turned over to their new owner, her brother, who was coming home Friday, would be back on his feet, ready to get back to work again, and she would be free to go back home.

  Home.

  The word echoed in her brain. Was that home to her? That high-rise apartment that she and Christopher lived in, in the shadow of the Space Needle, the one that she had been so excited about when she found it and moved in without a stick of furniture to put into it. Was that really home to her now?

  Or was this home again? The ranch, Redemption. Cole.

  Ronnie leaned against the kitchen sink, shaking her head as she realized that she’d been standing there, star ing at the water flowing from the faucet, the glass she’d come to fill still empty in her hand. What was going on with her? Wasn’t she supposed to have all the answers by now, not just all the questions?

  Oh, God, she’d never felt so confused before.

  “You look as if you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, honey. Something the matter?”

  The quietly voiced inquiry came from Midge James. The older woman had walked into the kitchen, no doubt looking for her.

  “No,” Ronnie answered a little too quickly as she snapped to attention.

  Get a grip on yourself, Ronnie, she silently ordered, annoyed that she’d let her guard down like this. She’d been doing that a lot lately, letting her guard down and thinking on two levels. Arguing with herself—and getting nowhere.

  “It’s not about any bad news about Wayne, is it?” Midge gently prodded.

  “No,” Ronnie repeated, this time with feeling. “It’s nothing, really.”

  Rather than accept her answer, Midge remained standing in front of her, thoughtfully regarding her expression for what felt like an extra long moment. And then, in purely motherly fashion, Cole’s mother cupped her cheek and said, “You know, sometimes it helps to talk things out. Maybe I can even help,” she offered. “Telling me certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

  Want
to bet?

  Ronnie forced a smile to her lips. It fluttered weakly before dying. There was no use in pretending that ev erything was fine. Cole’s mother seemed to see right through her.

  “Nobody can help, Midge,” Ronnie replied. “This is something I have to deal with on my own. But thanks for the offer.”

  Midge stepped back, nodding before gently asking Ronnie, “Are you trying to figure out a way to tell Cole?”

  Though she gave no outward indication, Ronnie could feel herself freezing inside. Just what did his mother know? She would have staked her life that Cole hadn’t said anything to anyone about their being intimate with one another again.

  Ronnie pressed her lips together, looking for a way out. “Tell Cole what?” she asked innocently.

  Midge watched her for a long moment, as if debating whether or not she should say anything further, and, if so, how much she should say. Where was the line between interested party and meddlesome mother?

  The wide shoulders squared just a tad before she plunged in. “That Christopher is his.”

  And just like that, Ronnie felt her orderly world being blown to smithereens.

  “What?” Ronnie cried, surprised she didn’t croak out the word.

  Midge leveled a penetrating look at her. “Do you really want me repeating that?” Cole’s mother asked her quietly.

  “No! Of course not!” The response had been automatic. It wasn’t what someone with a clear conscience would have said. She cleared her throat, as if that could somehow explain away her rudeness. “I mean…you’re wrong. About Christopher,” she added with feeling, then released a long breath before asking, “But just out of curiosity, what makes you say that?”

  The expression on Midge’s wide, amiable face was patient, sympathetic. And maybe just a little amused at the deception.

  “I have eyes, honey. And, don’t forget, Cole was my little boy just as Christopher is yours. Your son’s the spitting image of Cole at that age. Just looking at that little boy running around the ranch brought back so many fond memories of when Cole had been a little boy, into absolutely everything. He had to be all but tied down for bed each night.”

  “Lots of kids look alike at that age,” Ronnie pointed out evasively.

  “Very true,” Midge agreed, inclining her head. She gave no sign that she intended to continue to argue the point. Instead, she offered Ronnie a warm smile. “Like I said, if you need to talk, I’m around.”

  And with that, armed with the cup of tea she had come for, Midge began to walk back toward the family room.

  “He’d never forgive me,” Ronnie said suddenly to her back. Midge turned around slowly, her body language indicating that she was listening and deliberately keeping her silence unless asked to speak. Ronnie appreciated that. “If I said anything to him about Christopher now, after all this time had gone by—after not letting him know right away—I know Cole would never bring himself to forgive me.”

  Midge’s tone indicated otherwise. “A woman has her reasons for doing what she does.”

  Ronnie stared at her, her eyes wide. She had to concentrate not to let her jaw drop. “My God, you’re being awfully understanding about all this.”

  Midge dismissed the compliment. “Wouldn’t do me any good to rant and rave now, would it? Most likely, if I did that, it would drive you away and I surely wouldn’t want to have that happen.” She smiled warmly at Ronnie from across the room. “I’ve always liked you, Veronica.” She crossed back into the kitchen and next to Ronnie. “Now you’ve given me one more reason to like you.”

  Ronnie was leery of what was coming next. “And that is?”

  “You’ve given me a grandson,” she said simply. “And I think you’ve underestimated Cole. Oh, he’ll be madder than a wet hen for a while, but eventually, he’ll come around. In case it escaped your notice, my son loves you, Veronica.”

  She didn’t believe it for a minute. “Did you know that he was engaged to Cyndy Foster?” she asked, as if that countered anything that Midge could tell her or bring up.

  Midge laughed shortly. “The whole town knew. Cyndy saw to that. The important thing for you to take away from that is that when it came right down to it, Cole couldn’t go through with it. Couldn’t marry one woman when his heart clearly belonged to another.”

  “He told you that?” she asked as her pulses began doing their own little dance.

  “Didn’t have to. It was right there in his eyes. Still is.”

  The woman didn’t look as if she was drifting on her own cloud. But Ronnie still couldn’t get herself to believe what Midge was telling her. “I don’t see it,” Ronnie protested.

  “Then look closer,” the older woman advised. “Look, why don’t you stop being the brave little soldier and just tell Cole how you feel about him? You might try leading with that before you say anything to him about Christopher.”

  Ronnie desperately tried to maintain her facade. “No offense, but what makes you say that I feel anything for him?”

  Her smile was tolerant, her manner indicating that there was no lying to her. “Like I said, I have eyes, Veronica. And I’ve seen the way you look at Cole when you think that no one’s paying attention. Don’t look so worried,” she added quickly. “I’m not going to say anything to Cole. Sons hate having their mothers butting into their lives. You’ll learn that soon enough,” she predicted with a bittersweet smile. “Somewhere around when Christopher turns twelve. Thirteen if you’re particularly lucky. At thirteen all boys claim to have arrived on this earth through spontaneous generation—mothers were definitely not involved in the process. They continue to maintain that for years on end. It’s a rare son who gives up that myth by the time he hits twenty.”

  The liquid-blue eyes suddenly looked over Ronnie’s head. A wide smile moved over her thin lips.

  “Ah, speak of the devil,” Midge declared warmly. “We were just talking about you, Cole,” she said to her son as he came in from outside and joined them. “Jed Winchell still vowing to be sober?” she asked, referring to the man who Cole periodically brought into the jail so that Winchell could sleep off a bender before going home to his less than understanding wife.

  “Been close to a month now,” Cole said with a nod. He looked from his mother to Ronnie. “Why am I the devil?” he asked.

  “You’re not, darling,” Midge said cheerfully, patting his cheek to assure him that he was no such thing. “I didn’t raise you that way. I was just telling Veronica how you always come through for everyone and how proud I am of you.”

  He knew there had to be more. His mother sounded way too innocent just now. What was she up to? And had she dragged Ronnie into it? She was the most level-headed of mothers, but right now, she was making him suspicious. “And that’s why I’m the devil?”

  “It’s just an expression, dear.” She turned to face him completely. “Just an expression.” Midge shook her head as she regarded her only child. “You really do need to loosen up a little, Cole. Otherwise you’re going to wear yourself out right before my eyes. Can’t have that, you know.”

  He grinned at that, sending a significant look toward Ronnie. If he wore out, his loosening up wouldn’t reverse the process.

  Ever since they had rediscovered one another last week, they had been making love at least once, if not twice—or more—a day. It was what he focused on these days, as well as looked forward to. He got to the point where he needed contact with her the same way he needed air. To sustain himself. He felt he would just expire if he did without it.

  The fact that he was dependent on Ronnie for anything bothered him to no end. He didn’t like that he was so tangled up inside because of her. It also bothered him that he couldn’t just take it or leave it when it came to Ronnie, to making love with her. Whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t do without her.

  The more they did make love, the more he wanted to. It made thinking ahead by more than a day particularly difficult. He knew better than to put himself on the line and ask
her to stay.

  He’d gone that route before and it had all but ripped him apart when he found her gone.

  He wanted her to stay—there was no point in pretending that he didn’t—but the decision had to be hers to make, not his to request. Only two things he knew for sure. That he was not about to apply any sort of pressure on Ronnie. And that this waiting for her, wondering what she was going to do, was killing him slowly by inches.

  “I’m not wearing out, Ma. I’m fine,” he told her. “I just stopped by to ask Ronnie if she wanted to go to Bill Haines’s barn raising this Saturday.” His eyes shifted to Ronnie. “That’s the day after tomorrow in case you’ve lost track,” he added.

  “I haven’t lost track,” Ronnie assured him. Especially not since she was bringing Wayne home tomorrow. “Barn raising?” she echoed, suddenly realizing what he was saying. “They still do that out here?” she marveled. It felt like something from another era, although she could remember there being more than one instance where all the neighbors got together to help out and build a barn—or stable—for one of their own. That all seemed like a whole other lifetime ago.

  “Times being what they are, can’t think of a better way to save a little money and have a party to boot than holding a good old-fashioned barn raising,” he answered her. “I figure we could all go,” he continued, looking at his mother before turning his attention back to Ronnie. “Might be a good thing for your dad, too,” he pointed out. “Amos’s been cooped up here for a while now. Do him good to see a few friendly faces. Other than your own, of course,” he clarified, glancing at his mother pointedly.

  It wasn’t lost on him that his mother seemed to light up a little more each time she was in the same room as Ronnie’s father. Amos McCloud was an honorable, hardworking, decent man and he had no problem with his mother finding a little happiness with him.

  Everyone deserved to find happiness, he thought, looking now at Ronnie. Including him.

  Ronnie laughed, surrendering. There was no point in objecting. She didn’t mind the thought of visiting wholesale with some of the people she’d grown up with. Besides, if they were out among their neighbors, she wouldn’t be able to give in to the urges that seemed to be with her now, night and day.