Twenty-eight

It was warm enough that Jake could clean up outside while Randy slept. He finished his ritual of washing and shaving and scrubbing his teeth with baking soda. He intended to go inside and make love to his wife. Randy loved that; she was always more relaxed in the mornings.

For once, not every bone in his body ached—just his hip, where he’d taken that bullet in a shoot-out all those years ago in California. Randy was hurt that day, and he could have lost his son. It had been one of those times when he was sure his wife was better off without him and should divorce him.

He’d left her… He’d left her. He’d spent nearly two years on the Outlaw Trail, trying to forget her, but those had been the most miserable two years of his life. And when he finally found a way for them to be together again and came back, he’d found her faithfully waiting for him. And with their daughter.

“Shit,” he grumbled, dumping the used pan of water.

He hadn’t been there for either child’s birth. He’d walked out on Randy just before she’d had Lloyd, scared to death at the idea of being a father. And when she had Evie, he was getting drunk and gambling on the Outlaw Trail, trying to forget her, while she nearly bled to death. The doctor’d removed all the parts needed to bear more children, and that broke her heart. And there she’d been, going through that alone.

He kicked the empty pan in his guilt and frustration, sending it flying several feet away. He couldn’t count all the ways he’d failed her, the best woman he knew. There she lay in the cabin, almost thirty-two years since that first day, and after all he’d put her through, she still lay there sleeping, happy as a lark.

He’d never taken Miranda Hayes Harkner for granted and never would. If she’d ever chosen to leave him, he would have let her go. He had no right trying to stop her. Then again, how in hell could he have gone on with life without her in it? At times he felt he had no right to go to her bed, though nothing gave him more satisfaction. All the whores in the country couldn’t come close to what he’d found with Randy…because she loved him, and that made all the difference. He had to be one of the most unlovable men who ever walked. And when they were together, it was more than physical pleasure. That’s what made it all so beautiful and fulfilling.

He breathed deeply of the cool mountain air, the sweet smell of pine filling his nostrils. This was where he found the most peace, and Randy was a part of it. As he headed for the door, he heard a wolf howl somewhere in the distance.

He hesitated. The last time he’d heard wolves howl in daylight, it ended up being an omen. Disaster had struck the family—twice. He’d nearly lost his son in Denver…and nearly lost his wife last winter. How much more was anyone supposed to take?

He shook away thoughts of the bad times and forced himself to consider only the good, the best of which lay inside on a feather mattress on a homemade log bed with solidly linked pine slats under the mattress for support. Inside the door, a mantle clock ticked off the time, and he looked at a sleeping Randy. Years. So many years together. Where had they all gone? Time was marching right past him and leaving him in the dust.

He quietly closed the door and stripped down, pulling back the quilts and grabbing a piece of peppermint from a table beside the bed. He crawled into bed with his wife, who lay with her back to him. He reached around her and traced the end of the peppermint stick along her lips.

Randy opened her eyes, licking at the peppermint stick. “I’ve been awake,” she told Jake.

“Could have fooled me.”

She smiled and turned to face him. “I saw the peppermint stick on the table, so I was pretending to sleep.” She bit off a piece. “And truth be told, I snuck out of bed and washed while you were outside doing the same. And I used some of that rosewater you got for me in Boulder. Which reminds me, I haven’t even checked that wound the last couple of days.”

“Oh, it’s healed. See?” Jake raised the blanket to reveal that the gauze patch was gone.

Randy saw he was naked and laughed, pushing at him. “That’s not the only thing that’s healed and doing well.”

Jake saw that she was naked too. He moved on top of her. “I guess we thought alike.”

Randy smiled. “It’s called reading each other’s minds,” she told him. “I was pretty sure what you’d want this morning.” She sobered. “The trouble is, I also can tell you’ve been troubled ever since coming back from the fire.”

He stuck the peppermint back into her mouth. “Right now, I don’t want to talk about that. I just want to know I’m not getting too old for this and that I can still satisfy my beautiful wife.”

“You’re Jake Harkner. You’ll be satisfying me for a long time to come.”

He bit off his end of the peppermint. “I’m afraid that’s starting to depend on what hurts and what doesn’t hurt. Right now, the only thing that hurts is this thing pressed against your thigh, because it’s aching to be inside of you.”

Randy chewed on the peppermint, running her hands over the hard muscle of his upper arms and over his shoulders. “Well, I don’t want you to hurt anywhere, Mr. Harkner. Let me help you feel better.”

She reached down to caress his shaft, but he grasped her wrist. “Not so fast.”

He met her mouth in a deep kiss, then moved his lips to the side of her neck, just behind her ear, in that way he had of making her feel wanton. “You first, mi querida.” His light kisses moved to her throat, her lips, back to her throat, then down to her cleavage. He tasted her breasts as though they were ripe fruit.

“Far be it from me to argue how we should do this,” she said softly. She wound her fingers into his hair as his kisses wandered farther down her body, while his strong but gentle hands felt her breasts. He caressed her taut nipples as he licked at her belly and meandered to the crevices hiding that which belonged only to Jake Harkner.

She closed her eyes, never tiring of the way he had of making her want to open herself to him, using licks and kisses to bring out sweet juices. Always, always he made sure to do everything he could to make lovemaking pleasant for her, as though he knew this was a little harder for her now that she was older. It was all part of his determination to never hurt her, even when they were doing something beautiful.

She wondered how many men knew how to work this magic. She remembered one woman at the spring cookout who laughed and covered her mouth when she joked about the fact that she and her husband never made love anymore because it “hurt too much.” They’d all been standing and gossiping about the men, and when they looked at Randy, she just smiled and said nothing. Jake Harkner had a way of bringing her the most exotic climaxes, even at times when she really wasn’t in the mood. He always found a way to change her mind.

“Jake.” She groaned his name when she felt the pulsating explosion, and she grasped his hair tighter. He ran his hands and lips up over her belly, back to her breasts, to her throat, to her lips. He consumed her mouth and gave her a taste of her own juices and slid his hands under her, grasping her bottom while he moved inside her. He left her mouth and licked at her ear, whispering to her in Spanish.

“Tu eres mi vida, mi querida esposa.”

She’d been with him long enough to know what the words meant…you are my life. She sensed a kind of desperation in the way he said them. Something was wrong. She found his mouth again, kissing him hungrily, promising him through the kiss that everything was all right. She arched her hips to meet his thrusts. They came fast and hard, as though he needed to brand her, as though he needed to know he was deep inside of her and that she wasn’t going away.

She felt lost under his big frame, grasped his strong arms again, and leaned up to kiss his chest, loving the fact that there was still nothing soft about this man. That there remained a wildness about him, an untamed spirit that made him do things like take on all those men back in Boulder.

You know what to do, Randy, he’d told her during the standoff with the bank robbers. Yes, she knew what to do, because he knew what to do, and she had complete confidence in his abilities. It wasn’t the first time he’d taken on several men, but she prayed hard that it was the last time. How many times could he do something like that and still come out on the winning end? Even when he did, he’d been wounded too many times.

The thought made her give back even more wildly. He got to his knees and grasped her hips so he could bury himself deeper. She met his fiery, dark eyes, and there was that message. He owned her. He’d always owned her, and she’d put up with so much, because what woman wouldn’t want to belong to this man? He knew everything about her and knew how to handle her every mood. The trouble was, she wasn’t always sure how to handle his moods. She still saw something there, something amiss.

He came closer, wrapping her in strong arms as his life spilled into her. She could feel the forceful surges deep inside.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked in the same ritual he always asked.

“Jake Harkner,” she moaned.

“Every beautiful inch of you.”

She felt the same way. She’d done the one thing with her husband they’d never done in all the years they’d been married. She’d tasted him, swallowed his life. She owned him too.

He remained inside of her as he settled on top of her. “Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“No. Just stay on your elbows a little.”

“I don’t want to pull out.” He kissed her eyes, her mouth. “I could stay like this forever.”

She put her hands to either side of his face. “Jake, what’s wrong?” She actually thought she detected tears.

He closed his eyes and buried his lips against her neck. “I’m what’s wrong. Why in God’s name have you stayed with me for so long, and through so much?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re my Jake. Plain and simple. I’ve never doubted how much you love me. You’re always considerate of my every mood, and I know how hard the last few months have been on you.” She caressed his hair. “I’m sure you’ve wanted to scream at me at times or wanted to just let someone else take care of me, but you didn’t. You took care of me, and you’ve been so patient—which is not exactly one of your strongest skills, Jake Harkner.”

He smiled through tears. “No, ma’am.” He pushed her hair away from her face. “But I’ll always be patient with you. And you have no idea how happy it makes me to see you gaining weight, and to see you smile and to hear your sharp orders sometimes. No man tells me what to do, but, woman, you have me completely hog-tied.”

“And I so enjoy jerking that rope at times and tying you to my saddle horn.”

“I’ll just bet you do.” He laughed lightly, kissing her eyes, her mouth.

Randy sensed he was still holding something back, but she knew him far too well to press the issue. It might be better at the moment to get his mind off of whatever was lurking inside, instead of spoiling the moment.

“Mr. Harkner, I’m not over that beautiful climax yet. Can you help me?”

Jake grinned. “As much and as often as you want, mi querida.”

He searched her lips, and they made love all over again, and before the day was over, she claimed him for herself again, caressing and tasting him in a desire to give him pleasure the way he gave her such sweet climaxes in return. By nightfall, they made love yet again, a slow and beautiful dance of tasting and touching and uniting in the physical sharing of a love that could not be broken.

By dark, they were spent, and Randy fell asleep in his arms, that strong, safe place that she so loved. She heard a wolf howl somewhere in the mountains. Jake drew her closer.