Dorothy Garlock - [Tucker Family] (28 page)

This was Charlotte’s moment of truth. Should she dare to reveal her true feelings, to climb out on a limb, vulnerable, allowing
herself to be hurt if Owen did not return her affection? It was daunting, but she had never been the sort of woman who was
afraid to take a chance or who would run from something because it was difficult.

“I think, no, I’m sure I’m falling in love with you,” she said, taking the chance.

Her honesty momentarily took Owen aback, her words were a commitment, and he must decide if he wished to match it.

“I hope that I can be worthy of your love,” he said.

“In the end, that’s for me to decide.”

Owen nodded. “I understand that it was hard for you to say right out,” he said, pausing before adding, “because I’ve had to
make a few hard choices in my life.”

“What are you saying?”

“Love is something that I don’t make any claims to understand. Horses,” he said with a grin, “now them I know. But growing
up as Hannah and I did, never knowing my father and having to struggle every step of the way, meant love was a luxury that
I couldn’t afford to even think about.”

“You loved your mother and I can tell you love your sister from the way you take care of her.”

“You’re right,” Owen said, his voice soft. “But I’ve not been able to consider love, real love, with a woman.”

“Don’t you want a woman of your own, Owen?”

“Are you applying for the job?” he teased. “After all, you’re the perfect candidate.”

Giving her no time to respond, Owen gathered her into his arms as his lips hungrily found her own. She rose on her tiptoes
to meet him, settling her arms behind his neck, her fingers burying into his thick hair.

Charlotte held her eyes shut as she allowed herself to be carried away by the moment, as if looking on what they were sharing
might cause it to suddenly vanish like a dream that was too good to be true. She had kissed boys before, nothing more than
school ground flirtations, but kissing Owen, kissing the
man
who had won her heart, was an experience she didn’t want to end. When his tongue entered her mouth, she wasn’t repulsed but
captivated and playfully nibbled on his lips in return and entwined her fingers into his hair so tightly that he gasped.

“I want you to love me,” she said breathlessly, the words a surprise even to herself.

“Charlotte,” he moaned into her open mouth. “You have to know what you’re saying… what that means…”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. I love you…”

“… and I care more for you than any woman I’ve ever known…”

Without another word, Owen pulled a blanket from a cot, effortlessly lifted Charlotte, and carried her into the shadowy depths
of the horse barn, the lantern left behind. He pushed open the gate of an empty horse stall and spread the blanket to lay
her down into a thick bed of fresh hay. Impatiently, he tugged his shirt open and off, tossing it aside, before joining her.
He pressed down on her, his flesh electric under her hands, his mouth again finding hers.

Tenderly, Charlotte ran her hands over his skin, starting at his hips, rising up over his ribs, and stopping as he hissed
through clenched teeth.

“Does it hurt when I do that?” she asked, worried.

“Not at all,” he lied.

“I’ll be careful.”

“If it means being here with you, I don’t give a damn how rough you are.” Even in the scant light, she could see him smile.

Drawing her blouse from her skirt, he ran his warm fingers across her bare skin. That touch, such a simple thing compared
to all of the physical connections they had already shared, dissolved whatever restraint Charlotte still felt. It was gone
in an instant. Her hands found his belt and tugged hard, trying to get it undone as fast as she could, and began to explore
his body as Owen’s hands
caressed her breasts. The roughness of his fingers against the tender skin of the underside of her breasts sent flashes racing
before her eyes. When he first touched her nipple, her breath caught in her chest and she flinched.

“Did that hurt you?” he asked, and she loved him for asking.

“Not one bit,” she gasped.

The next few minutes passed as a blur as each helped the other shed clothes; blouse, jeans, shoes, skirt, and undergarments
were tossed aside.

Charlotte lay naked on the blanket, her blond curls fanned out behind her, watching Owen’s face as he lay down beside her.
She could see that even though his passion threatened to consume him, he remained reluctant to act.

“There’s something I want to ask you, but before I do, I want you to listen to me for a moment, all right?” he said.

“Yes, Owen.”

“I want you to be sure that what we are about to do is what you want,” he explained. “I don’t want there to be any doubts,
because the thought that you might regret making love to me is more than I could bear. I want this to be the beginning of
our life together, not a night you would hope to forget.”

“Then both of us want the same thing.”

Tenderly, Charlotte lifted her lips to Owen’s, softly kissing him. But as the seconds passed and their passion grew, his kisses
became more frantic.

Urgently, Owen now slid his hand down Charlotte’s hip, dallied on her thigh, and finally, gently as he could, ventured between
her legs. To help him, she spread her knees. Immediately, his fingers found the centers of her pleasure, already moist and
aroused by all that had come before, sending shivers racing throughout her body.

When Owen rose up on his arms, muscles tight from supporting his weight, and positioned himself above Charlotte, she lifted
her body to his.

“I’m yours, Owen.” She sighed into his ear. “I’ll always be yours and you will be mine.”

“Together,” he answered breathlessly. “We’ll always be together… you and I, so tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

She did, over and over.

Gently, Owen moved forward, starting to push himself inside her. Charlotte gasped; it was a pain that she expected and one
that she resolved to get past.

“Charlotte…” he began in worry.

“It’s fine,” she answered. “Trust me… when I say that it’s fine…”

Once he was completely inside her, Owen waited for a moment allowing her to adjust to the feel of him, as he softly kissed
her parted lips. When he felt certain she was ready, he began to move, slowly at first, but then almost imperceptibly faster.
Soon, the pleasure rose and the discomfort subsided and Charlotte began to let herself ride with the moment, relishing what
they were sharing.

Giving herself to Owen wasn’t something she had entered into lightly, but now that it was happening, she knew that her choice
had been right. Memories of their relationship drifted back to her: that first smile in the dining room on the night of her
arrival, their kiss in the very horse barn in which they now lay, his visit outside the school and the surprise of the country
pond, and their trip to the roller-skating rink only hours earlier. But what excited Charlotte now, as their bodies became
one, was imagining what wonderful moments lay in their future. Whatever they were, she couldn’t wait to discover them.

The pleasure mounted with every thrust, and both of them began to sweat and breathe harder.

“I never… dreamed it would be this wonderful…” Owen whispered.

“I love you, Owen Wallace,” Charlotte answered. “I love you.”

When the moment arrived for the climax of their lovemaking, both of them had reached their limit, unable to restrain themselves
a minute longer. Charlotte held Owen so tightly that her fingers dug into the hard flesh of his back, her face nuzzled into
the sweaty crevice of his neck and shoulder. Her body spasmed uncontrollably as he shuddered, filling her with warmth and
happiness. And then they were spent, collapsing together, bodies still joined and entwined. Never in her wildest imagination
would Charlotte have thought it would have been so fulfilling, so wonderful. She didn’t want the night to end.
She just wanted to lie together with Owen, in his arms, forever.

Carter Herrick slumped in a chair before the fireplace of his ranch house’s great room. He was beside himself with frustration.
No matter how many glasses of whiskey he downed, no matter how many cigars he smoked, nothing seemed to settle his dissatisfaction.
When the grandfather clock struck midnight, he knew sleep would never catch him that night.

Clyde had reported what had happened on Grant’s ranch, and while he was pleased to learn that there had been some damages
and a few injuries, the stampede had fallen far short of his lofty expectations. He’d envisioned Grant ground to a bloody
pulp under the pounding hooves of his own horses or, at the very least, that he would have to put down half of his animals
and rebuild much of his ranch.

But that wasn’t what had happened at all…

Futilely, Herrick wished for it to be a different time. He had a burning desire to hold Caroline Wallace in his arms, to feel
the press of her lips against his own. He desperately needed to speak with his son again, to ask him about his day as he had
often failed to do during the boy’s short life. He would have traded anything to be a young man again, to feel strength coursing
through his ravaged body, not to have to rely on the actions of others to accomplish what he wanted done. But he might as
well have wished for the
moon for all the chance he had for his desires to come true.

Upstairs, the pistol still lay on his desk, waiting. In his darkest moments, Carter Herrick could swear that it was calling
out to him. Either way, there wasn’t much time left before he would no longer be able to resist the pull to use it. With a
simple pull of the trigger, he would go be with his beloved son and be forever rid of the specter of loss that hung around
his neck. But he still clung to the thinning hopes that he would not go into the ground alone. In fact, that night Clyde had
argued for a different plan, a more aggressive one, a plan he had not been able to reject outright.

With another gulp of whiskey slowly burning its way down his throat, Carter Herrick managed to smile.

A
ND… AND THEN
the… boy clim… climbed the lad… der to the… top of the wall… and then ju… jumped down to the… ott… other side…’ ” Sarah struggled,
holding the book in both hands and staring hard at the words. “ ‘What he… found there was… ma… ma…’ ”

“ ‘Magical,’ ” Charlotte encouraged.

“ ‘Magical,’ ” the girl repeated, rolling the word around, liking the sound of it, before adding, “That’s a hard one!”

“It certainly is.”

A gust of wind rattled the glass in the window, periodically tugging at the loose dirt on the ground and the branches of the
few trees that dotted the landscape. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky, threatening. It was so dark outside that the middle
of the afternoon seemed like early evening. In the distance, thunder rumbled.

As Sarah worked at reading her book and Charlotte
struggled to pay attention, her mind wandered to the night before, when she and Owen had made love. Words were unable to describe
her emotions at that time. Afterwards, each had been content to lie in the straw beside the other, sweaty skin touching, breathing
ragged. When they had dressed and parted, their long kiss was a seal and a promise. Back in her room, Charlotte had been unable
to sleep, remembering.

Regardless of her own emotional state, it was hard for Charlotte not to notice the change in Sarah. When she and John had
arrived, the cabin was as clean as she had ever seen it and Alan had been outside chopping wood, his scrawny body drenched
in sweat. Sarah was well rested and cheerful. The most pleasant surprise was that there weren’t any empty liquor bottles lying
around. Clearly, Alan had taken Charlotte’s tongue-lashing to heart and had begun to change his ways. A transformation had
occurred.

Sarah finished the book and looked expectantly at Charlotte.

“That was much better, Sarah.”

“I’ve been tryin’ to read when you ain’t here,” she said, and beamed. “What you said ’bout sounding out the words, it really
helps when I get stuck. I just keep at it until I get it, no matter how long it takes. My pa’s been sittin’ with me when I
read at night, and even though he can’t understand a lick of it, he’s been noddin’ and ’couragin’ me some.”

“It looks like he’s been helping more around the cabin.”

“He even helped me do the cookin’ last night,” Sarah said, her voice lowering a bit as she added, “Don’t tell him I told you,
but he’s no good at it! He thinks he should use salt the way you would flour. I couldn’t eat a bite, though it was awful nice
of him to try.”

“Once the baby comes,” Charlotte said, “it’ll get harder for the both of you.”

“My pa’s been sayin’ the same thing.”

“He’s right.”

Sarah’s eyes drifted toward the windows as a burst of needling rain lashed against the glass, followed by another rumble of
thunder. “I hope I’ll know how to take care of it.” She frowned, looking much older than her age.

“I know he’s grown-up and can take care of himself. But a baby can’t do that. He’ll be needin’ me to do everything for him
and I worry I ain’t gonna be up to the task. What if I do somethin’ wrong? What if I ain’t as good a mother as I wanna be,
as my mother was to me? At least she had Pa to help. He wasn’t drinkin’ then… I ain’t got nobody but him.”

“I told you this the first day that we sat down and worked on your lessons,” Charlotte reassured. “You’re not alone.”

“Sometimes it seems I am. It’s gonna be so hard.”

“Times
will
be tougher than you imagine they will be, but you will not have to go through them all by yourself. Besides, your father
has already been through it. You said it yourself: he helped to raise you. Surely he can’t have forgotten what to do.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah murmured.

“I don’t think people ever forget.” Charlotte smiled. “Your baby will be his grandchild.”

“Grandson,” she corrected.

“Are you still so sure that you’re having a boy?”