Her Sweet Talkin' Man (15 page)

She did. For long minutes she rocked with him, made love to him. “You wanted me like this?” Her voice was a broken cry.

“Yes. And like this,” he whispered as he turned with her and drove into her depths. “I wanted you every way. All of you. Just as you are tonight.”

His words made her ache, his hands made her gasp. She lay beneath him, cradling him inside her as the heat rose and she matched his rhythm, knowing that tonight she would travel to a place she'd never known before and would never know again.

She'd wanted him, too, that first day. And now he was here. “Have me,” she whispered and she looked up at him as he linked his fingers with hers, pushed their hands up above her head and plunged into her, sending her senses whirling as the stars fell into her soul.

“Ace!” she cried, and he drank in the sound. He held her, waited for her, his body tense and deep inside her. Then he moved again, almost left her, then slid inside her once more as every muscle in his body stiffened. His head fell back in a silent shout. Her own body surprised her by shuddering once more in a slow and blissful release. She took Ace's weight and wrapped her arms around his back, holding him to her.

After what seemed like too short a time, he raised his head. “I'm crushing you, darlin'.” He started to move to his side.

“Not yet,” she whispered. He gazed down into her eyes, then relaxed against her.

“Not yet,” he agreed, but she noticed that he
shifted slightly so that most of his weight was off her. He left one arm and leg entrapping her, claiming her.

She gently touched his cheek. He smiled. “Are you all right, sunshine?” he asked, his voice sleepy.

“Yes,” she murmured, knowing she was. But she was also close to tears when she thought that come morning he would leave forever.

He stroked the sensitive skin at her waist. “Are you sure?” His voice sounded even closer to sliding into sleep.

In that moment she knew that she loved him beyond hope. Even tired as he was, he wouldn't allow himself to drift off without making sure she was all right, taken care of.

“I'm very sure,” she said, kissing his hair. And she
was.
Very sure that she had fallen so deeply in love with Ace Carson that she would never stop loving him. He had come to town friendless, with revenge on his mind, but he had never stopped caring for people. For women and old people and small helpless children. He thought of himself as a man with few scruples, but he had more honor than any man she knew. And a great deal of pain. A past that wouldn't let him free.

She could love him, but she could never hurt him by asking him to tie himself to that past by staying here with her and Timmy. If he stayed, he'd have to stare his past in the face every day of his life.

And so she stroked his hair until he slept. She kissed his shoulder, tried to think what life would be like, how she would make a life for herself and
Timmy while they both loved a man who lived his life far from theirs.

Silent tears streaked into her hair, but she held herself still for fear of waking Ace. Slowly weariness claimed her. She slept, knowing that the morning would tear the fabric of her life. Knowing that she had willingly stepped right into that pain. And would do so again with no regrets.

 

Something woke Ace in the darkness. He glanced down to where Crystal lay beside him, tendrils of her long beautiful hair drifting across his shoulder, linking them. He raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at her. He fingered a bit of the silky stuff, kissed it with his lips, breathed in her unique scent, a scent that made him weak with need every time she got near. Moonlight filtered in through the window, silvering her features.

She'd been crying, he thought, his heart wrenching at the thought. Because she thought he'd used her like other men had?

He swore beneath his breath. Somehow he had to make her see that this was different, that he cared. But maybe Timmy's father had told her that, too. Maybe he wasn't so different from the men who had hurt her. After all, he had taken her sweetness, made love to her and said his farewells. Where was the difference?

She looked so small in the bed, so fragile, so sweet. He wanted to tuck her into his body and keep her safe. He wanted to slay monsters for her, to make her
his, but he hadn't slain any monsters for her, had he? His own monsters were pulling him away.

He lay back down beside her. He listened to her breathing, willed his heart to beat in concert with hers. He wished things could be different. Wished he could have her and stay with her and love her. Forever.

But forever, he knew, was elusive. Forever was what his mother had wanted with Ford. She'd wanted family and had it snatched from her.

Crystal moved in her sleep and Ace lay quietly, just loving the business of watching her sleep. She had tried so hard to give him family. She had bent over backward to link him up with his brothers and sisters.

His throat nearly closed. There wasn't a reason in the world Crystal should care whether or not he patched things up with the Carsons. But she had cared. Because she was Crystal. So very special.

She was going to be a very difficult woman to leave. She was going to be impossible to forget. He dared to lean forward and breathe in deeply of her scent. Then he touched his lips to the sweet skin of her cheek one more time.

At last he rose and began to dress. Crystal stirred and he stopped, standing as silently as he could, unwilling to disturb her dreams. Finally her breathing fell soft and regular again. She rested her palm on her cheek like a child.

Ace's heart broke in two, but he continued dressing. He readied himself to leave so that he could make it fast when the time came. Fast, so his emotions wouldn't have time to betray him.

Somewhere in the house something shifted, squeaked, crashed. A sharp cry was cut off, muffled. A small thud came from the far bedroom.

Instantly, Ace raced to the door and out into the hall, his heart thundering. “Timmy! Are you okay, bud?” he called as he skidded to a stop just outside Timmy's bedroom and wrenched open the door.

Timmy didn't answer, but there in the moonlight was a man, his hand over Timmy's mouth, dragging him toward the window.

“Let him go.” Ace couldn't see if the man had a weapon and he didn't want Timmy to get hurt, but there was no way he was going to let anyone take this child.

The man turned and snarled at Ace, and Ace saw that it was Branson Hines. But in that moment Hines yanked Timmy closer to the window.

The little boy's muffled whimper cut through to Ace's soul.

“This doesn't concern you,” Hines said, his voice high and tight. “It concerns her and those like her. They killed my baby. They took my Deena's happiness. This time
I
take.”

“Don't even think of leaving.” Ace's voice was icy, crisp, commanding. It could have been his stepfather's school-principal voice, or Ford's cattle-king voice. Both powerful men.
He
needed to be powerful now.

He was watching Branson's hands, the man's eyes. His own gaze tracked every movement, looking for weakness. If he jumped Hines now, the man might still have time to hurt Timmy. The boy was so small,
so helpless. His eyes were huge and scared above Branson's hand.

“Hey, wildcat,” Ace mouthed. Somehow he managed to wink, even though this wasn't a winking matter. He wanted Timmy to think that he had things under control, that they were playing a game even if it wasn't true.

Just don't let him be so frightened. And give me strength and good timing. He sent the plea heaven-ward.

“Timmy had nothing to do with the loss of your baby,” he said in that same commanding voice, edging slightly to the side, keeping Hines watching him, turning so that he was no longer in such a good position to leap for the window.

“It isn't fair that she has a son while I don't,” Branson whined. “She was supposed to lose everything years ago. I planned it that way.”

A small gasp sounded behind Ace, and he felt rather than saw Crystal behind him.

“Ace?” Her voice was a low quiver.

Branson smiled, and it was an ugly thing to behold.

“Oh, this is better. I hadn't planned it this way, but having her watch while I take him away is so much better.”

Ace felt Crystal's pain and panic almost like a physical thing. It knifed through him. At Branson's first words she had started to move forward, but when the man jerked Timmy aside a bit, she'd stopped. Now Branson was leering, daring Crystal to do something.

Reaching back, Ace touched her hand gently.
“Branson seems to need to talk to you, darlin',” he said. “Get some things off his mind. Could take a few minutes.” He hoped and prayed she understood the message he was trying to send her.

He heard her take a deep breath, as if preparing for battle.

“Close your eyes, Timmy, sweetheart,” she said softly. “Think of riding Freckles and having cookies and milk with Grace. Think of how soft Bert's fur is and how you and Ace take care of him.” She looked at Branson. “Mr. Hines and I are going to talk. Tell me about your son.”

Her shift in tone from frightened to calm seemed to make Branson nervous. He glanced wild-eyed from side to side. He couldn't know what Ace knew, that Crystal was shaking. The hand he was touching trembled with fear.

Ace brought that hand to the small of his back. He gave it a gentle squeeze of reassurance before letting her go.

She took another deep breath.

“What do you care about my baby?” Branson practically screamed the words.

Ace shifted to the side as if to give Branson better access to her. He hated doing that, exposing her so, but his move had the expected effect. Branson pivoted to stare directly at her, a vein throbbing beneath the pale stringy hair at his temple.

“I care about all babies,” Crystal said, and as Branson zeroed in on her voice in the waning moonlight, Ace slid farther to the side. He watched the grip that Branson had on Timmy.

“So why didn't you get your rich friends to save my Deena's baby?” Hines leaned toward Crystal.

Ace reached for Timmy's dresser and picked up the first thing he touched. Something hard, heavy.

“A woman has to take care of her body to have a healthy baby, Hines,” Ace said carefully. “She has to make an effort. Maybe you should have told your wife that. Told her she needed to stop drinking, at least. Maybe you should have helped her.”

Branson swung in his direction. “You—”

“Here,” Ace called, tossing the item he'd picked up to Hines, praying that human nature still held for an animal like him.

The object sailed through the air. Branson obeyed the call of nature, reaching out to catch, and Ace dove for his legs.

“Run, wildcat,” he ordered, and Timmy stumbled away just as Ace crashed into Branson, sending both men to the floor. Regaining his balance, Ace drew back his arm and drove his fist into Branson's face.

“If you ever touch anyone I love again, I'll knock you clear across the state of Texas. You come near my woman or my child again and I won't leave breath in your body. No one hurts Crystal or her boy. No one even breathes a bad word about them.”

He lifted Branson as he spoke, shook him, and then shoved him back to the floor and held him there.

“Timmy?” he whispered. “You okay, bud?”

“Yes, Ace.” The little voice was high and scared, and Ace dared to look away from Branson long enough to note that the boy was clinging to his mother.

Ace applied more pressure to Branson to hold him in place. “I'm sorry you had to go through this, Timmy, and had to see me lose my temper,” Ace said, tears threatening to thicken his voice. “I'm normally not a violent man.”

He looked over at Crystal and she was smiling at him, tears streaming down her face. “You're not,” she agreed. “But we're glad that you were able to violate your principles tonight.”

She held on to Timmy, but the look she was giving Ace… It was all he could do to keep holding Branson in place when he wanted to take her into his arms.

“Call the police,” he told her.

“I did. When I first woke up and heard you. They should be here soon.”

As if on cue, a siren sounded in the distance, growing louder by the second.

“We make a great team,” he said as if he'd just discovered something.

“Me, too,” Timmy said.

“Oh, yes, wildcat, especially you, too.”

The sirens sounded in the street just outside the house. Ace looked toward the window and saw the streaks of daylight crisscrossing the sky.

“It's morning,” he said quietly.

And he looked at Crystal.

A
fter the police took Branson away, Ace simply stood there looking at Crystal and Timmy.

“What?” she asked softly, her arms around her son.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It's just…the two of you together, it's a beautiful sight. You're a family.”

Crystal gazed down at her son, who smiled up at her. She kissed the top of his head. “Yes, we are. We most certainly are, just as you and your mother were.”

It was such a simple thought, but one whose truth had escaped him until that moment, the fact that he and his mother had been a real family. He'd always thought of them couched in the terms that other people tossed his way. Illegitimate. White trash. Dysfunctional. An abandoned woman and child. Even after his mother had married Derek, people still didn't look at them as a real family. No doubt they thought that Derek had done both him and his mother a favor. His stepfather hadn't been a demonstrative man, and so people hadn't been privy to the quiet love he'd reserved for Rebecca and her son. They'd made up their collective mind about Rebecca years earlier and,
in the small community of the academy, nothing of any consequence had happened to change it.

Ace had been just as close-minded as everyone else.

“We
were
a family,” he said, feeling something burst inside him. “But we didn't talk about that kind of thing. We never used the word family the way you do. The way you demonstrate its importance. All the time I
did
have a real and whole family, even though I didn't know it. Thank you for reminding me of that.” He only wished he could have realized it while his mother was still alive.

Crystal's eyes were shining. She reached out and touched Ace's hand, then linked her fingers with his in the briefest of unions. “She knows.” And he marveled that she could know his thoughts.

“You'd better go feed Bert,” she told her son, giving him a pat on the behind. “He's going to want his breakfast soon.”

“Yeah,” Timmy said, his eyes round. “And he's going to want his rock, too. I better find it.”

Crystal and Ace exchanged confused glances.

“His rock?” Ace asked.

“The one you throwed at that man. I been putting sticks and grass and rocks in with Bert. So it feels more like the outside. More like a home. That was Bert's rock, but it's okay if I can't find it again. You and me needed it more than he did.”

“Yes, we did,” Ace said, remembering his desperation when Branson Hines had threatened to steal Timmy away forever. “Tell Bert thank-you, and if
you can't find his rock, I'll help you. Or we'll find another one.”

But as Timmy nodded and toddled off, Ace looked at Crystal and saw that her smile had disappeared. “Don't make promises to him you can't keep,” she whispered. “It's morning.”

Yes, morning. The day he was going away. Leaving Crystal. Leaving his heart. His family.

She'd wanted him to have a family, the one he'd thought he'd never had. She'd taught him that people in families that had been broken didn't have to live broken lives. They didn't have to be bound by the past or by a sense of injustice.

He'd spent his whole life wanting things he couldn't have and trying to hide this desperate desire. He hadn't wanted to be weak. He'd done his best to break free of needing anything or anyone.

But he knew without a doubt that he had never wanted or needed anything as badly as he wanted Crystal Bennett.

And he didn't care who knew his weakness.

Some things were more important than fear or anger or distrust or past injustices. Some things could make all those things look puny and insignificant in comparison. Things like love, hope, family.

All things that Crystal Bennett represented. Things she'd wanted him to have.

He smiled at her and moved closer, bringing his hand up to cup her neck. “It's a beautiful morning, isn't it, sunshine?” he asked.

Her eyes opened wide as he leaned close to taste
her. And then he was kissing her and her eyes were closed, her arms around him.

“Ace?” she asked, her voice shaking when he let her go. “What's wrong?”

He stroked his thumb over the velvet of her cheek. “Maybe you should ask me what's right.”

She tipped her head, clearly confused. “Okay, what's right?”

“This.” He dipped his head and kissed her lips softly, sweetly, swiftly. “You. Alive. Well. Healthy. This morning, when I stood there between you and Branson, and I thought he might take Timmy or hurt you, or both, I knew what it was to face losing everything important. All my life I thought I was missing something important, and maybe I was, but that something was something I'd never known, anyway. It was an illusion, a daydream, something that had become larger than life and not quite real, because of not having it and having had years to embellish it. But you and Timmy, you're real. This time I knew what I was going to lose, and it practically killed me to think of it. So yes, for this moment everything's right and beautiful. You're here, safe and alive and beside me.”

She took a step closer, bringing herself up against him. Her cheek rested on his chest, her hands clutched the front of his shirt. She breathed in his scent and then turned her head, rose on her toes and touched her lips to his neck. “I was afraid, too,” she admitted.

“Of course you were.”

“No.” Her fingers gripped the cotton of his shirt more tightly. “I don't mean just about Timmy or even
myself. To tell the truth I didn't have time to think about myself. My mind was going crazy for Timmy, but somewhere deep inside I knew you weren't going to let Branson take him and I was afraid… Branson is crazed. I think he would have tried to kill you if you made him angry enough, and I've heard that anger can make a man strong. If he had hurt you…”

She let her words trail off. She gazed up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. Then she smiled. “I'm so happy you're much smarter than he is. I'm so very glad you came to town, Ace, and that I got the chance to know you.”

“I want the chance to know you better.” The ragged words felt as if they had been ripped from him involuntarily, as if he couldn't help saying them. “I want you to let me love you. I want you for my own, but…”

The look on her face was resigned. She'd heard that before, or something like it. From other men, ones who'd hurt her.

He shook his head, then said, “Don't look that way. I've never told you anything I didn't mean. I want the chance to know you better.” Forever, he wanted to say, but he couldn't do that. Not yet. “I have a few things to take care of, though. Will you…will you wait?”

He hated to ask that of her. It wasn't fair when he wasn't even sure what he was planning.

She nodded tightly. “Where are you going?”

That was a very good question. He'd figure it out real soon, he hoped.

“I'm not leaving Mission Creek, if that's what you
mean,” he whispered, giving her a quick hard kiss. “And I plan to be back before the sun is much higher in the sky if I'm lucky.”

“And if you're not?”

He ran his hand lightly along her jaw. “If I'm not, look for me, anyway. I'll tell Timmy goodbye for now.”

And then he turned and walked out the door when all he wanted to do was fold her into his arms and stay with her all morning.

 

Crystal watched Ace go, his back broad and strong, his stride long and full of purpose. Another man walking away from her, but he had asked her to wait.

Was there really any reason for him to stay? Any reason for her to believe that this time things would end the right way, the happy way?

Only that this man was Ace, not just any man.

Some people might say that the very fact that the man was Ace was reason enough not to trust him to return. Even he had been telling her for several weeks now that he was leaving. Even he had told her that he wasn't a man who wanted to fit in or have the things most people wanted.

Yet the memory of his risking his life for Timmy and her filled her up. The catch in his voice when he'd said he wanted to get to know her better wouldn't let her go. Not that it mattered whether waiting for him or believing him was right or wrong. She loved him completely, without rhyme or reason or end, and nothing was going to change that. Not even Ace.

She waited. She put the house in order. She cleaned up Timmy and she put on her nicest dress, a pearl-colored sheath. Then she did what women have done through the ages. She stood at the window and waited for the man who held her heart.

When he finally drove up, it was all she could do not to run out the door and throw herself into his arms.

As it was, he had barely knocked on the door before she opened it.

She had expected him to smile, expected him to tease or to kiss her. Instead, he stood there looking as if he was going to a hanging.

“Ace?”

“Nerves,” he said. “I've…I've set things in motion that can't be taken back.” He took her hand, started to lead her out the door. Then he stopped. He cupped one hand around the back of her neck and kissed her long and hard. “For courage,” he told her. “Would you go get Timmy? We're going for a ride.”

She did as he asked, but when they exited her house, she noticed that the car in the drive wasn't the one he'd been driving lately.

“You stopped at work?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes, but this isn't a Mission Creek. It's a Lone Star.”

When he turned onto the road that led to Carson Ranch, she stared at him.

“No promises,” he said. “No idea what's going to happen, either. I called all of them and asked if this was okay. All except Ford.”

She didn't have to ask what he was doing. She
didn't exactly know, but it didn't matter. He was doing something.

“This has to be for you, Ace,” she whispered, touching his sleeve.

He glanced at her. “It is, in part. It's also for us.”

“I don't need you to do this if it's too hard.”

He looked at her again and gave her a sad smile. “I need to do this, and everything that matters is probably hard.”

She smiled at him then. He took one hand off the wheel and touched her hand. She took it and kissed his fingers, then she drew a breath.

“I love you, Ace,” she said simply.

The car nearly swerved off the road and missed the turnoff for Carson Ranch. Ace grabbed the wheel with both hands, made the turn and drove slowly down the drive, pulling to a stop in front of the massive house.

Then he turned to her, leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. “What in the world did I ever do to deserve you in my life? You are the most amazing woman, Crystal Bennett. I was a fool to ever think that I could spend even one day with you and not love you. When this is over—” he looked at the massive house “—well, it's just not going to be over. Not between you and me. Not by a long shot, darlin'.”

Her heart filled. It overflowed. “I love when you call me darlin',” she said.

He turned to her then, one brow raised.

She shrugged. “I didn't want you to know, because it affects me so much, but I shiver when you say it. But only when
you
say it. Only you.”

He kissed her slowly, reverently. And then he kissed her again. “We're going to have a lot of talking to do real soon, darlin'. And a lot of kissing, too.”

With that, he climbed from the car and moved around to the other side to help her and Timmy out.

“I'll hold you to that,” she said as hope began to build in her heart. She looked at Ace and saw that he was staring at her as if he wanted to devour her, but then he looked at the house again.

And everything hopeful in his face froze.

“Let's get this done,” he said.

She followed him up to the door. There was, she knew, a lot riding on what happened in this house. Ace was a proud man. He wouldn't take a woman to wife if he considered himself a failure.

If anyone beyond these doors made him feel that way, she was going to tear them limb from limb, Carson or no Carson.

Crystal moved close to Ace's side and tucked her hand against his side.

 

Two minutes later Ace stepped over the threshold of the Carson family home for the first time. The room was richly furnished, open, airy, large, befitting a family as old and wealthy and powerful as the Carsons. But none of that mattered. What mattered was the row of Carsons facing him. The ones he'd called. And the woman and child at his side.

He looked down at Crystal, straight into those trusting hazel eyes. Just looking at her gave him strength, made him feel taller.

“Maybe Timmy would like something to eat,” he
suggested, and looked at Grace. Within seconds the older woman had hugged Timmy and called the housekeeper, who took the little boy into the kitchen.

Ace waited until he knew Timmy was gone and busy. Then he took a deep breath and looked straight into Flynt's eyes. And then into Matt's, Fiona's, Cara's, Grace's. One by one he acknowledged each.

They waited. A bit nervously, it seemed to him. Which was ridiculous, of course. They weren't the ones who'd been thickheaded.
He
was. He was the one who had to try to make things right.

“I just wanted to tell all of you a few things that I need to get off my chest,” he began slowly. “You may have heard this already, but early this morning a man came into Crystal's house and tried to take Timmy away. He tried to hurt him and Crystal, and I learned a few important things in that moment. I learned that maybe the past doesn't matter much if you have a future. I…well, I decided that I want to have a future. Here in Mission Creek. No more looking backward, no more placing blame, no running from the good things that have been staring me in the face, the people who've reached out to me.”

He made the mistake of looking at Grace just then, saw the tear tracking down her cheek, and his throat filled. He swallowed hard. He looked up at the ceiling, praying for the strength to go on without breaking down, and hoping for the words to convey what he needed them to know. “I can't tell you— What I mean is, Branson Hines tried to take the two people I value most in the world, the woman and child I love. The sheriff tells me Hines is most likely going to the
maximum-security prison in Lubbock. Real soon, too. I'm glad he's going to be off the streets. The women and children of this town can be safe now. I guess what I'm saying is that I've come to think of this town as my…my home.”