Chapter Fourteen

Rusty stood on the cliff and breathed deeply of the cool, crisp air. She never tired of the scenery. It was constant, and yet ever changing. Today the sky was like a blue china bowl turned upside down over the earth. Snow still capped the mountain peaks against the horizon. The trees ranged in color from the blue-green of the evergreens to the delicate green of trees on the verge of spring budding.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Her husband came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled against him. “Not now. How’s the foal?”

“He’s having breakfast—to his and his mother’s mutual contentment.”

She smiled and tilted her head to one side. He inched down the turtleneck of her sweater and kissed her beneath her ear. “How’s the other new mother on the place?”

“I’m not a new mother yet.” She glowed with pleasure as he ran his large hands over her swollen abdomen.

“Looks that way to me.”

“You think this new figure of mine is amusing, don’t you?” She frowned at him over her shoulder, but it was hard to maintain that expression when he was gazing at her with such evident love.

“I love it.”

“I love you.”

They kissed. “I love you, too,” he whispered when he lifted his mouth off hers. Words he had found impossible to say before, now came easily to his lips. She had taught him how to love again.

“You had no choice.”

“Yeah, I remember that night you showed up on my threshold looking as bedraggled as a homeless kitten in a rainstorm.”

“Considering what I’d just come through I thought I looked pretty good.”

“I didn’t know whether to kiss you or paddle you.”

“You did both.”

“Yeah, but the paddling didn’t come until much later.”

They laughed together, but he was serious when he said, “No fooling, I couldn’t believe you drove all that way alone through that kind of weather. Didn’t you listen to your car radio? Didn’t you hear the storm reports? You escorted in the first heavy snowstorm of the season. Every time I think about it, I shudder.” He pulled her closer, crossing his hands over her breasts and nuzzling his face in her hair.

“I had to see you right then, before I lost my nerve. I would have gone through hell to get here.”

“You very nearly did.”

“At the time, it didn’t seem so bad. Besides, I had survived a plane crash. What was a little snow?”

“Hardly a ‘little snow.’ And driving with your injured leg too.”

She shrugged dismissively. To their delight the gesture caused her breasts to rise and fall against his hands.

Murmuring his appreciation, he covered them completely and massaged them gently, aware of the discomfort they’d been giving her lately as a result of her pregnancy.

“Tender?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Want me to stop?”

“Not on your life.”

Satisfied with her answer, he propped his chin on the top of her head and continued to massage her.

“I’m glad the operations on my leg have to be postponed until after the baby gets here,” she said. “That is, if you don’t mind looking at my unsightly scar.”

“I always close my eyes when we’re making love.”

“I know. So do I.”

“Then how do you know mine are closed?” he teased. They laughed again, because neither of them closed their eyes while they were making love; they were too busy looking at each other, looking at themselves together, and gauging each other’s level of passion.

As they watched a hawk lazily circling in downward spirals, Cooper asked, “Remember what you said to me the instant I opened the door that night?”

“I said, ‘You’re going to let me love you, Cooper Landry, if it kills you.’”

He chuckled at the memory and his heart grew warm, as it had that night, when he thought about the courage it had taken for her to come to him and make that bizarre announcement. “What would you have done if I had slammed the door in your face?”

“But you didn’t.”

“Assuming I had.”

She pondered that for a moment. “I’d have barged in anyway, stripped off all my clothes, pledged everlasting love and devotion, and threatened you with violence if you didn’t love me back.”

“That’s what you did.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said around a giggle. “Well, I’d have just kept on doing that until you stopped refusing.”

He planted his lips against her ear. “You went down on bended knee and asked me to marry you and give you a baby.”

“How well your memory serves you.”

“And that’s not all you did while you were on your knees.”

She turned in his arms and said sweetly, “I didn’t hear you complaining. Or were all those garbled phrases coming out of your mouth complaints?”

He laughed, throwing back his head and releasing a genuine burst of humor—something he did frequently now. There were times when he lapsed into the moody, withdrawn man he’d been. His mind carried him back to haunting phases of his life where she couldn’t go. Her reward lay in the fact that she could bring him out again. Patiently, lovingly, she was eradicating his disturbing memories and replacing them with happy ones.

Now she kissed his strong, tanned throat and said, “We’d better go in and get ready for our trip to L.A.” They made one round-trip a month to the city, during which they spent two or three days at Rusty’s house. While there, they ate in fine restaurants, went to concerts and movies, shopped, and even attended an occasional social gathering. Rusty stayed in touch with her old friends, but was delighted with the new friendships Cooper and she had cultivated as a couple. When he wanted to, he could ooze charm and engage in conversation on a wide range of subjects.

Also while they were there, she handled business matters that demanded her attention. Since her marriage, she’d been promoted to vice-president in her father’s real-estate company.

Cooper worked as a volunteer counselor in a veterans’ therapy group. He’d initiated several self-help programs that were being emulated in other parts of the country.

Now, with their arms around each other’s waist, they walked back toward the house that was nestled in a grove of pines. It overlooked a spectacular valley. Horses and cattle grazed in the mountain pastures below the timberline.

“You know,” he said as they entered their glass-walled bedroom, “talking about that night you arrived has gotten me all hot and bothered.” He peeled off his shirt.

“You’re always hot and bothered.” Rusty peeled her sweater over her head. She never wore a bra when they were at home alone.

Eyeing her enlarged breasts, he unsnapped his jeans and swaggered toward her. “And it’s always your fault.”

“Do you still desire me, even though I’m misshapen?” She gestured at her rounded tummy.

For an answer, he took her hand and pulled it into his open fly. She squeezed his full manhood. He groaned softly. “I desire you.” Bending his knees, he kissed one of her creamy breasts. “As long as you’re you, I’ll love you, Rusty.”

“I’m glad,” she sighed. “Because, just like after the plane crash, you’re stuck with me.”