Lacy (38 page)

"We can't," he breathed into her lips.
"It would hurt you now."

"I love you so," she managed.
"Cole, I love you so!"

She trembled all over with the force of it.
Gently, with quiet resignation, he drew her onto her side and, gazing into her
eyes, slowly brought her against him in intimacy. She gasped as she felt the
soft penetration and her body went rigid.

"Only this," he whispered. "We
can sleep this way, if you like. But your body won't enjoy anything more."

She swallowed. This kind of intimacy was
unexpected, and incredibly satisfying. She looked down, her eyes wide and
curious. He looked, too, and drew back just a breath, to let her experience the
total reality of how fully they were locked together.

She made a soft sound and her eyes lifted to
meet his.

"This is a miracle, isn't it?" he
asked gently. "Male and female, so perfectly made to fit together in
pleasure. It awes me."

"And me," she agreed. She moved closer
between his powerful legs, shivering as she felt the depth of his possession.
Then she relaxed, her arms around him.

His chest rose and fell slowly.
"Lacy," he said softly.

"Yes, Cole?"

His big, lean hands tenderly pushed against her
back. "I love you," he said heavily.

Her body trembled. It was the first time he'd
ever said it to her. It was probably, she realized, the first time he'd ever
said it to anyone in his life outside his family.

"Don't cry," he whispered.

"Don't you know you've given me the
world?" she asked brokenly. She clung to him. "You're my life."

"You're mine." His hands slid down to
her hips and pulled, ever so gently.

And the contractions exploded at once, tenderly,
racking them both in a hot sweetness that was unexpected and altogether
impossible. Except that it wasn't.

When the spasms passed, they laughed.

"That couldn't have happened," he
whispered deeply. "We imagined it."

"No, we didn't." She nuzzled her face
into his throat. "No, don't pull away. I want to be part of you all
night."

He shivered. "It's frightening," he
said unsteadily, "to love like this."

"Oh, yes," she agreed, but when she
closed her eyes, she was smiling.

By the time they woke, the bedroom was cold and
they were lying in each other's arms with the bedclothes covering them.

"It's morning," Cole whispered,
kissing her awake.

"Yes." She smiled, moving, and groaned.
"Oh, Cole!" she said, grimacing.

"Sore?"

She flushed. "Yes!"

He laughed delightedly. "Stay in bed for a
while. I'll have breakfast with the boys this morning."

"No, you won't," she teased. "I
won't share you."

He smiled at her and started to get up. Then he
hesitated. Her eyes were faintly chiding. He frowned, but he got out of bed
without trying to grab for his pajamas first.

She sat up, her pretty breasts bare, and looked
at him blatantly. There was no revulsion in her eyes, no hint of distaste. She
could see him fully in daylight, see the damage that had been done to him. It
wasn't half as bad as he thought, though, she decided. And they were honorable
scars. But it wasn't the scars that were most noticeable, and she flushed a
little.

"Is that because of me?" she asked,
her eyes curious and a little shy.

He smiled ruefully. "Mostly. Although men
usually wake up like this."

She lay back, stretching lazily. "I'll
remember that when I'm back in shape again."

"There's nothing wrong with your
shape," he said possessively, with bold, warm eyes. "God, I've got to
get out of here!" he groaned.

"I'm sorry."

"Honey, I'm too uncomfortable to do
anything about it myself, if it helps," he confessed while he pulled his
pajamas and robe back on. He paused by the bed long enough to whip off the
covers and stare down at her with hungry possession. "You're mine,"
he said huskily. "My own beautiful fairy."

She lifted her face for his kiss and smiled when
his hands swept down to cup her breasts and he groaned.

"Go to work," she teased.

He laid her back down and threw the quilt over
her. "Bent double and groaning," he agreed. "I'm sure I'll get a
lot done." "Cole?"

He paused at the door and smiled at her, looking
rakish with his night's growth of beard and his thick dark hair over one
eyebrow. "What?"

"It doesn't last, does it?" she said
slowly.

He frowned slightly. "What doesn't
honey?"

"I'm all used up, and I still want
you," she explained. "And after last night..." She blushed in
spite of herself.

He smiled gently. "Yes."

"I love you," she murmured.

"I love
you,"
he
replied, and it was in every syllable. "Want me to lay a fire before I
go?"

"No, thank you. I'll get up and make you
some breakfast.
I..
.don't want to
share you with the men this morning..." she began slowly.

He threw back the covers and lifted her in his
arms to kiss her warmly, hungrily. "I don't want to leave you,
either," he whispered roughly. He clasped her close. "I don't want
you out of my sight!"

She clung to him, so happy that she didn't know
how she was going to stand it all. Cole loved her. She knew she'd never want
anything more than that. If only there could have been a child, she thought,
promising herself that she'd never let him see her one glimmer of sadness in a
perfect marriage. This, she told herself, would be enough. She couldn't ask for
more when she had everything.

Chapter Seventeen

Marion
was
allowed
home from
the
hospital
a few days later, and she seemed stronger
than
she ever had. Knowledge of Katy's remarkable recovery had
helped, she confessed, and having Katy come to see her had been the final balm.

Katy was slowly getting over the shock of her
ordeal, and she was a different Katy now. She was quiet and not at all bubbly.
She sat and crocheted and seemed sometimes a little disoriented.

Turk didn't press her. He stayed close to home.
There were no more trips to town on Saturday night, and no more drinking. He
didn't make passes at Katy or even touch her. He did occasionally sit and watch
her crochet lace edgings for pillowcases, but his company was pleasant and
nondemanding. She began to relax, especially when Lieutenant Higgins phoned
Cole to tell him that all charges against Blake Wardell had been dropped, that
the incident had been labeled self-defense, and that Katy would never have to
become involved in its aftermath. Cole mentioned it. Katy was quietly pleased.
Turk went out and drank himself senseless without a word, barely able to lift
his head the next morning.

Cole watched his foreman's behavior with more
concern than anger. He couldn't make Turk talk about what was worrying him, but
he imagined it had a lot to do with Katy's involvement with Wardell. Whether it
was jealousy or outraged morality, Cole didn't know. For the first time, his
foreman refused to talk about his problems to his best friend.

Meanwhile Cole was finding himself at the end of
some good-natured teasing from family, cowhands, and friends over his helpless
delight in his radiant wife. When he had to leave her to go to work, Taggart
and Cherry wailed for him, bringing a reluctant grin to his hard face. He
kissed Lacy coming and going, and their life together was complete and
satisfying. It disturbed him that he wouldn't be able to make her pregnant, but
she seemed to accept the fact with good grace.

The only cloud on their horizon was the
worsening agricultural situation. Cattle prices were beginning a downward swing,
and Cole was becoming more and more hard-pressed to find enough capital to keep
things going. While the price of feeder steers had fallen over twenty dollars a
head in the past three years, the cost of feeding them out was rising steadily.
Cole had told her that he could expect—on his best day—to make a five-dollar
profit from each steer he sold, if conditions didn't worsen. But conditions
had. Farm equipment had to be replaced, seed and fertilizer had to be bought so
that grain could be raised to feed the cattle over the winter. Calving sheds
had to be built, fences had to be fixed, cowhands had to be paid. And all his
expenses had to come out of the money he earned. A nearby ranch had already
gone up for grabs at public auction. Lacy worried about their own situation.
She could bail him out if worse came to worse. But she didn't like to think of
the effect that would have on his pride. She prayed that he'd be able to find a
way out on his own.

Faye went to work for Lacy's cousin and his wife
at their dress shop in San Antonio. A letter had come from Ben before she'd
left. He'd apologized for the things he'd said and done, and begged Faye's
forgiveness. He would, he offered, come home and marry her if she wanted him
to, so that his child would have a name.

But to everyone's astonishment, Faye had
refused. She'd told Lacy to write him back that she was fine without him. Her
eyes had twinkled as she thought about her new independence from her father's
drunken binges, her poverty. As a shopgirl, she'd have a wage, and she was
invited to live with her employers, who had a spare room. Her life was coming
up bright and beautiful, and she wasn't going to spend it mourning Ben. She
said so, patting her stomach. He could see the baby when it came, she'd
conceded, but it belonged to her.

Lacy was proud of her. Faye had been a brick
when they needed help during Marion's stay in the hospital and through Katy's
ordeal. They'd never forget her. Lacy and Cole went with her to San Antonio the day she left and saw her installed in Mrs. Ruby Morrow's front bedroom.
Miles Morrow was Lacy's first cousin. He and his wife were older people, and
they were delighted to have Faye's help. They were good people, the kind who
opened their doors to anyone in need or trouble. They promised they'd look
after Faye, and the girl was radiant. They even promised to teach her to read
and write.

Lacy paused just long enough to see her settled
before she and Cole left.

He was silent and a little angry, because Ruby
had mentioned seeing George. He remembered the man from Lacy's party the night
he'd asked her to come back. They were almost to Spanish Flats before Lacy
finally determined what was wrong with him.

"George is only a vague memory," she
told Cole. "I only said he meant something to me to make you jealous.
Heaven knows, you couldn't find a single reason to be jealous of him now."
She leaned closer, laughing. "I wouldn't have the energy!"

He laughed, too, the anger forgotten as he
clasped her close against his side and slowed the Model T long enough to bend
and kiss her cool lips. "All right. I don't like remembering how it was
when you left me, that's all. So much time wasted!" His expression was
eloquent as he looked at her. It was late afternoon, cold as snow, and the dirt
road was deserted when he paused in the middle of it. "If only I'd known
more about women, you might never have gone."

"I'm very glad you don't know much about
women," she assured him, her eyes adoring. "We were both innocent.
That's precious to me, Cole. More precious perhaps than you realize."

He sighed. "For what it's worth, I'm glad,
too," he said, searching her soft eyes. "Have I told you that I love
you today?"

"Several times." She lifted her lips
to his. "Have I told you today?"

"Say it again, anyway," he whispered
as he covered her mouth with his and inhaled her husky whisper.

The sound of an approaching car didn't reach
them until its horn sounded. They sprung apart to find Ira Cameron
putting
around
them, a grin on his broad face.

"That's what I like to see, married people
who act happy about being married," he called, raising his hand.