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Authors: Joan Johnston

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Only, that wasn’t possible anymore. Not with Cherry living in the same house. Just looking at her made him feel way too much. He wanted her. And felt guilty because of it, even though he knew that was foolish. He was still alive. He still had needs. And she was his wife.

Temporarily. And only as a matter of convenience.

That didn’t seem to matter to his body. It thrummed with excitement every time he looked at her. He wondered how her breasts would feel in his hands. He wondered whether she had freckles everywhere. He wanted to see her blue eyes darken with passion for him.

He was damned glad she couldn’t read his mind.

After supper, the two little girls who had enjoyed making pie were less willing to clean up the results of their handiwork.

“Mrs. Motherwell always did the dishes by herself,” Raejean protested.

“Yeah,” Annie added.

“Maybe so, but she isn’t here anymore,” Cherry said. “Now everybody helps in the kitchen.”

Raejean’s eyes narrowed as though gauging whether she had to obey this dictum. She glanced at her father, still sitting at the table finishing up his second slice of pie, and asked, “Even Daddy?”

Billy had been listening to the byplay between Cherry and his daughters, a little surprised that she expected the twins to help. There was nothing wrong with them learning to do their share of the chores. Of course, he hadn’t expected to be included. Dishes were women’s work.

Now what, smart guy? Are you going to act like a male chauvinist pig? Or are you going to provide a good example to your children and pitch in to help?

Billy rose and carried his plate to the sink. “All of us have to do our part,” he said. “Even me.”

It was fun.

He had never done dishes as a family project, but there were definite advantages to doing the work as a
team. Like having the girls tease him with the sprayer in the sink as they stood on a chair and rinsed off the dishes before Cherry loaded them in the dishwasher. And tickling Cherry, who turned out to be the most ticklish person he had ever known.

In the past, jobs at the ranch had been divided into
his
and
hers.
Cherry made everything
ours.

“Where did you learn all these communal work ethics?” Billy asked as they each toweled off one of the twins after their bath.

“When there are eight kids in a household, everyone has to chip in and do their part,” Cherry said. “And knowing there was at least one extra pair of hands to help made every job easier.”

“And more fun,” Billy said, as he picked up the twins, one in each arm, and headed toward their bedroom.

“And more fun,” Cherry agreed as she turned down the twins’ beds.

Billy set each twin on her bed and then sat down cross-legged on the floor between them. Cherry stood against the wall, her arms crossed around herself, watching them.

“Tell us a story,” Raejean begged.

“Please, Daddy,” Annie wheedled.

When the twins were younger and having children was still a novelty, Billy had often told them bedtime stories. As they had gotten older and his responsibilities on the ranch had become more pressing, Laura had been the one to put the girls to bed at night. He’d had to be satisfied with looking in on them after they were already asleep. Over the past year he had allowed a
series of housekeepers to enjoy this precious time with his daughters.

Billy realized that he would probably be working on the bookkeeping right now if Cherry hadn’t made everything so much fun that he had wanted to stay with them rather than retire to his office to work. He was grateful to her, but he couldn’t tell her why without admitting he had been lax as a parent.

It shocked him to realize that maybe Penelope was right about him. Maybe he hadn’t been a very good parent for his daughters over the past year. Maybe it was time to acknowledge that being a father meant more than planting the seeds in a woman that grew into children and earning the money that put food in their mouths, a roof over their heads, and clothes on their backs.

When he finished the story and his giggling girls were tucked in and kissed on their noses, he turned at last to find Cherry and realized that sometime during the reading of the bedtime story she had left the room.

“Good night, girls,” he said as he turned out the light. “Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite!” they recited in chorus.

Billy headed downstairs in search of Cherry, anxious to thank her for making him aware of the priceless moments he had been missing with his daughters.

He knocked on the door to her room, but she wasn’t there. He searched the house and finally found her sitting in one of the two rockers on the front porch. It was dark outside, and when he turned on the front porch light she said, “Please leave it off.”

“All right,” he said as he settled in the second rocker. “What are you doing sitting out here in the dark?”

“Thinking.”

“About what?”

“About us. About why we got married.” She pulled her feet up onto the rocker seat, circled her legs with her arms, and set her chin on her knees as she stared into the darkness. “We shouldn’t have done it, Billy,” she said softly.

“I disagree, Cherry. Especially after today.”

She lifted her head and turned to stare at him. “I would think, if anything, today proved what a rotten mother I am. I wasn’t going to tell you, but Annie and Raejean missed the bus this morning, so I had to take them there and I didn’t know how to drive a stick shift and I forgot to make them lunches and then I let Annie eat too many marshmallows and then Mrs. Trask showed up at school because I wasn’t here to get the call from the principal, and then Raejean ran off and the kitchen was a mess and supper wasn’t ready and—”

Billy stood abruptly and lifted her out of the rocker and settled her in his lap as he sat back down. He felt the tension in her body and wanted desperately to ease the misery he had heard in her voice.

“So maybe you don’t have the mechanics down. But you know everything about being a mother that really counts.”

“Like what?” she said, her voice muffled because she had her mouth pressed against his throat.

“Like wanting them to be happy. Like caring what happens to them. Teaching them to do their share. Showing them the pleasure of doing something nice for somebody else. And showing me how much I’ve been missing
by letting someone else try to be both parents, instead of doing my part.”

He felt her relax against him, felt her hand curl up behind his neck and thread into his hair. He liked the feel of her in his arms, liked the way she leaned on him.

“Thanks, Billy,” she murmured. “I want to be a helpmate for you.”

She sounded tired, half asleep. After the day she had described to him, it was no wonder. “You are, Cherry,” he said, pulling her close. “You are.”

He only meant to give her a kiss of comfort. His intent wasn’t the least bit amorous. He tipped her chin up with his forefinger and pressed soothing kisses on her closed eyelids, her freckled cheeks, and her nose. And one last kiss on her mouth.

Only he let himself linger a bit too long.

And Cherry returned the kiss. Her tongue made a long, lazy foray into his mouth.

His body reacted instantly, turning rock-hard. He groaned, almost in pain. He wanted her. Desperately. But he had agreed to wait.

“Cherry, please,” he begged.

She didn’t answer him one way or the other. He had to touch her, needed to touch her. He slid his hand up under her T-shirt and let his fingertips roam the silky flesh across her belly. His thumb caught under her breast.

He reached for the center clasp of her bra, holding his breath, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to stop. He felt the clasp come free and huffed out a breath all at the same time.

She made a carnal sound as his hand closed over the
warmth of her breast and gasped as his thumb flicked across the rigid nipple.

His mouth covered hers, and his tongue mimicked the sexual act as his hand palmed her flesh and then slid down between her legs. He cupped her and felt the heat and heard her moan.

His mouth slid down to her throat, sucking hard at the flesh as his thumb caressed her through a thin layer of denim, making her writhe in his arms.

“Billy, no!”

He froze, his breath rasping out through his open mouth, his body aching. He didn’t try to stop her when she stumbled from his lap and grabbed at one of the porch pillars to hold herself upright. Her whole body was trembling with desire—or fear, he wasn’t sure which.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Then she was gone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

C
HERRY SPENT THE FIRST
month of her marriage trying desperately to win Raejean’s and Annie’s trust. And trying desperately not to think about how close she had come those first few days to making love with Billy.

She had felt warm and safe and secure in his arms. She had felt desired and cherished. She had felt the beginnings of passion—and torn herself from his embrace.

It was fear that had kept her from surrendering. Fear that she would begin to care too much. Fear that what she felt for him was illusion. Fear that what he felt for her was too ephemeral to last. If she gave herself to him body and soul, she would be lost. And when the marriage was over, she would die inside.

It was safer to keep her distance. That was the hard lesson she had learned as a child. She knew better than to trust anyone with her heart. If she gave it up to Billy, he would only break it.

But she wasn’t strong enough to deny herself his touch entirely. She liked his kisses. She liked his caresses. And they were a necessary part of the charade she and Billy were playing out for the benefit of Mrs. Trask.

Of course, Mrs. Trask wasn’t there each morning when Billy slipped up behind her while she was making
coffee and nuzzled her neck and said in a husky voice, “Good morning, Cherry.”

Mrs. Trask wasn’t there when she turned and pressed herself against him, sieved her fingers into his thick, silky hair, and waited for his morning kiss.

Mrs. Trask wasn’t there when Billy lowered his head and took her lips in a kiss as tender as anything Cherry had ever experienced, or when that same kiss grew into something so terrifyingly overwhelming that it left her breathless.

If Billy had asked her to yield entirely, she would likely have stopped allowing the kisses. But he seemed to be satisfied with what she was willing to give him. It wasn’t until a month had passed that it dawned on Cherry that each morning Billy asked for a little more. And each morning she gave it to him.

A hand cupping her breast. The feel of his arousal against her belly. Drugging kisses that left her knees ready to buckle. Her hand pressed to the front of his fly to feel the length and the hardness of him. His mouth on her throat. Her robe eased aside, and his mouth on her naked breast.

The feelings were exquisite. Irresistible. Like Billy himself.

If physical seduction had been his only allure, she might have resisted him more successfully. But not only was she attracted to Billy physically, she liked and admired him, as well. He was a good father, a hard worker, a considerate helpmate. Cherry knew she was sliding down a slippery slope. She was in serious danger of complete surrender.

She tried not to think about Billy during the day.
It was easy for great stretches of time to involve herself with Raejean and Annie and housekeeping and the chores in the barn she had taken over for Billy. And she had started night school to earn her high school diploma, and there was always homework to be finished. Her life was full and busy, and she felt useful and satisfied.

Most of the time.

But she could feel Billy’s eyes on her in the evening after supper when they spent time with the children and gave them their baths. Watching her. Waiting for her to want him the way he wanted her.

The sexual tension between them had grown palpable. Her skin tingled at the mere thought of him touching her. Her breasts ached for the feel of his callused hands. Her blood raced when she saw him come through the door each evening, his washboard belly visible through his open shirt, his sinewy arms bared by rolled-up shirt-sleeves, his muscular body fatigued from a day of hard labor.

And her heart went out to him when she saw his face, his dark eyes haunted by the stress of an imminent showdown in court with Mrs. Trask. Was it any wonder she wanted to hold out her arms to him and offer comfort?

As he shoved open the kitchen screen door, her thoughts became reality. Their eyes met and held for an instant, and Cherry knew that tonight she would give herself to him. Tonight she would offer him solace, even if it meant giving up her own peace of mind.

“Hi, Daddy,” Raejean said as Billy settled his Stetson on a hat rack by the kitchen door.

“Hi, Daddy,” Annie echoed.

Cherry felt a tightness in her chest as she saw the smile form on his face when he lifted the girls up into his arms and gave each of them a kiss on the nose. He loved them so very much. And there was a very real danger that he would lose them.

“How are my girls?” he asked. “What are you doing to keep busy now that school’s over?”

“Cherry made us work!” Raejean said.

Billy raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“We had to help dig a garden behind the house.”

“A garden?”

Cherry met Billy’s surprised look and explained, “I thought it would be nice to have some fresh vegetables.” Then she realized how presumptuous it was to assume she would still be around in the fall to harvest them.

“We had to plant flowers around the edge of the garden when we were done digging,” Annie said.

“What kind of flowers?” Billy asked.

“Marigolds,” Annie chirped. “It was fun, Daddy.”

“Did you have fun, too, Raejean?” Billy asked.

“Maybe,” Raejean conceded. “A little.”

Cherry knew it had been an adjustment for Raejean and Annie to find themselves suddenly responsible for chores appropriate to their ages. Before Laura’s death they had been too young, and the series of housekeepers had found it easier to do the work themselves than to involve the children. Cherry had explained to Billy that she wasn’t there as a housekeeper, she was there as a surrogate mother. And she could best teach the girls the things they would need to know to manage a ranching household by involving them in every aspect of what she did.

It wasn’t until she had come to live with Rebecca and Zach that Cherry had been included in precisely that way in the running of a household. In previous foster homes she had been more like a maid-of-all-work. In the Whitelaw home she had been part of a family in which each member did his or her part. She had learned the satisfaction to be had from contributing her fair share.

The more she put to good use the lessons Rebecca had taught her, the more she realized how much she had learned from her, the more grateful she felt for having been adopted into the Whitelaw family, and the more guilty she felt for having run away and married Billy instead of coming home and facing Zach and Rebecca the night she had been expelled.

There was no doubt she had been a difficult child to parent. The longer she was a stepparent, the more understanding she had of the other side of the fence. And the more appreciation she had for Zach and Rebecca’s endless patience and love.

She knew she ought to tell them so.

But she couldn’t face them and say on the one hand how much she appreciated all the things they had taught her, while on the other she was perpetrating the deceit involved in her temporary marriage to Billy Stonecreek.

So she had found excuses to avoid visiting them and reasons to keep her family from visiting her. Except for Jewel, who knew everything, and was quick to point out that Cherry was acting like an idiot and should simply call Zach and Rebecca and confess everything.

“They’ll understand,” Jewel had said. “And they’ll forgive. And they’ll still love you as much as ever. That’s what parents do.”

Cherry was finding that out for herself. Raejean still resented her and complained about nearly everything Cherry asked her to do, although she would eventually do it. Annie hadn’t surrendered her trust to Cherry in loyalty to Raejean.

If her marriage to Billy had been a permanent thing, Cherry would have said time was on her side. It had taken more than a year for her barriers to come down with Zach and Rebecca, but in the face of all that love, they
had
come down. She needed to win Raejean’s and Annie’s trust before the court hearing—a matter of weeks. A great deal depended on her finding a way to break through the little girls’ stubborn resistance.

They had long since broken through hers. She loved them both dearly, enough to know it was going to hurt a great deal when she was no longer a part of their lives.

“You got a letter today,” she told Billy as he set the girls back on their feet. “It looks official.”

Billy’s face was grim as he went to the kitchen counter where she always left the mail and sorted through it. He picked up the envelope, looked at it, and set it back down again. “It can wait until after the kids are in bed.”

Cherry understood why he was postponing the inevitable. But she knew he was as aware of it sitting there all evening as she was.

He hugged the girls so hard at bedtime that Annie protested, “I can’t breathe, Daddy.”

She knew he was afraid of losing them. So was she.

She walked ahead of him down the stairs and instead
of heading for the porch rockers to relax for a few minutes before going back to work, she headed for the kitchen. Billy followed her.

She went directly to the stack of mail, found the letter she wanted, and handed it to him. “Read it.”

He tore it open viciously, his teeth clenched tight enough to make a muscle in his jaw jerk. He read silently. Without a word, he handed the official-looking letter to her. “Read it.”

She read quickly. The court date had been set for July 15. Billy was asked to appear and explain certain accusations that had been made against him that he was not a fit custodian for his children.

“Three weeks,” he said bitterly. “Three lousy weeks before I have to appear in court and prove I’m a fit father. How the hell am I going to do that, Cherry? Tell me that? I can’t make those nights in jail go away. And you can bet Penelope will make sure the judge knows that the mother I’ve provided for my children is an eighteen-year-old girl who used to be a juvenile delinquent.”

Cherry went white around the mouth. She hadn’t expected his attack. It was useless to point out that he was the one who had suggested marriage. It didn’t change the facts. “What do you want to do, Billy? Do you want to annul the marriage? Would that help, do you think?”

“Oh, God, no!” His arms closed tight around her. “I’m sorry, Cherry. I didn’t mean to suggest that any of this is your fault, or that you aren’t a wonderful mother. You are. Raejean and Annie are lucky to have you. Only…”

“Only I have been a juvenile delinquent.”

“And I’ve spent a few nights in jail,” Billy said. “Nobody’s perfect, Cherry. We simply have to convince the judge that all that behavior is in the past. That right now we’re the best possible parents for two little girls who’ve lost their mother, and whose grandmother is a bit misguided.”

“Is that what she is?” Cherry asked, her lips twisting wryly.

“She misses her daughter, Cherry. She’s still grieving. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give her my children to replace the one she lost,” Billy said, his voice hard, his eyes flinty.

“Raejean still doesn’t like me,” Cherry pointed out. “What is the judge going to make of that?”

Billy’s brow furrowed between his eyes. “I don’t know, Cherry. He’ll have to understand that we’re all still making adjustments. He’ll have to see that you’re doing the best you can.”

She took a deep breath and said, “I couldn’t bear to see you lose them, Billy.”

“I won’t. I can’t.” He paused at the realization that the court had the power to take his children away from him before repeating, “I won’t.”

His arms tightened painfully around her, and she knew he was holding on to her because he was afraid of losing them. When his mouth came seeking hers—seeking solace, as she had known he would—she gave it to him.

“I need you,” he said in a guttural voice. “I need you, Cherry.”

“I’m yours, Billy,” she answered him. “I’m all yours.”

He picked her up and carried her to her room, shoving
open the bedroom door with his hip and laying her on the bed. He turned on the bedside lamp and sat down beside her.

“I want to see you. I want to feel your flesh against mine,” he said as he tore off her T-shirt and threw it across the room. He had her bra unclasped a second later and it was gone, leaving her bared to him from the waist up.

He stopped to look at what he had. “No freckles here,” he mused as a callused finger circled her breast. “Just this rosy crest,” he finished as his mouth closed on her.

Her hands tangled in his hair and held him as he suckled her. Her body arched with pleasure as his hand slipped down between her legs to hold the heat and the heart of her.

Cherry had endured weeks of teasing foreplay. Now she wanted what had been denied her. “Please, Billy. Please.” She shoved at his shirt, wanting to feel his flesh against her fingertips. She reached for his belt buckle and undid it with trembling fingers and then undid the button and slid down the zipper on his jeans. Billy copied everything she did.

When her hand slid beneath his briefs to reach for him, his did the same beneath her panties.

They stopped and looked at each other and grinned.

“Gotcha,” Billy said as he slid a finger deep inside her. She was wet and slick, and he added another finger to the first.

Cherry groaned.

Her gaze trailed down to where her hand disappeared
inside Billy’s briefs. She tightened her grasp and slid her hand up and down the hard length of him.

Billy groaned.

Their mouths merged, their tongues mimicking the sexual act as their hands kept up their teasing titillation.

Suddenly it wasn’t enough. Cherry wasn’t sure which of them shoved at the other’s jeans first, but it wasn’t long before both of them were naked. A moment after that, Billy was inside her.

They both went still.

It felt like she had found her other half. Now she was whole.

Cherry looked up into Billy’s dark eyes and saw a wealth of emotion. Too many feelings. More than were safe. She closed her eyes against them.

“Look at me, Cherry,” Billy said.

She slowly raised her lids and gazed at him with wonder.

He loves me,
she thought.
I never dreamed…I never imagined…

BOOK: Hawk's Way: Rebels
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