Stands a Calder Man (41 page)

The changes were more subtle than that, the kind a woman who loved him would notice. Before when he'd come to her, he'd been a cowboy—unique in many respects, but still a cowboy. Power and authority were resting on his wide shoulders now, and they sat there easily. Lilli sensed that many things were locked inside
him, long controlled—perhaps too long controlled. He had come here to see her, but why? She wondered if Webb was even sure. Pride wrapped its invisible shield around her and kept him from observing that just seeing him again disturbed her.

The departing automobile churned up a choking cloud of dust in the barren yard. Lilli lifted an end of the shawl over her nose and mouth to keep the gritty dirt out of her mouth and lungs and closed her eyes to slits against the stinging dust. The wind picked it up and whirled it away before it had a chance to settle back on the ground. Webb's horse swung around him, whickering nervously after the noisy vehicle.

It was a moment or two before Webb let the reins fall and came toward her again, slapping the dust from his hat. His gaze was on her, probing, searching for something—a reaction, a sign, an age-old signal between a man and a woman that was easily recognized and never defined. She stood a few feet in front of the door, watching him, not unfriendly, but not open to him, either. He half-waited for her to suggest they go inside, out of this dust and wind, but she remained silent. There was some kind of barrier between them, and Webb was undecided about how to penetrate it because he didn't understand the cause.

“One of my men was hurt on the roundup. Simon—Dr. Bardolph—came out to fix him up, so I just found out from him this afternoon about Stefan.” He wanted to make it clear that he'd have come sooner if he had known. “I was sorry to hear about it.” No, dammit! He hadn't been sorry. Why was he mouthing words of polite convention when there were so many other things he wanted to say? “I wish you had let me know,” It was the first honest thing he'd said. “It couldn't have been easy for you.”

“I managed.” Her chin dipped briefly, then came up again. The boldness was there, but so was restraint.

He wasn't handling this right, but he seemed to be on a course that couldn't be altered. “You sold the farm.”

“Yes.” Her gaze ran around the dried-up buildings
rattling in the endless wind, some distant memories stirring in her look. “I've sold everything—the horses and equipment. There wasn't much point in keeping it.” Her attention came back to him. “Even if Stefan was alive, as dry as it's been, I don't think we could have made it through to next year.”

“What were you planning to do?” Webb unconsciously used the past tense, yet wanting to find out if she had included him at all in her future plans.

She faltered slightly under his steady regard, then held it once again. “After all the debts have been paid, I have enough money left to buy a small restaurant somewhere.”

“You were going to leave.” His jaw made a harsh line. “Weren't you even going to come and tell me good-bye?” Webb challenged roughly.

The motion of her hand as it brushed aside strands of hair the wind blew across her face seemed to be a means of avoiding his eyes. “Times change. People change.” Lilli offered that as an answer. “It isn't reasonable to expect people to have the same feelings after so much time has passed.”

Her reply stunned him, hitting him low as he read into it that she had changed. She turned in an unhurried and graceful motion and walked the few steps to the door. There she paused, her body at right angles to him, and looked at him across her shoulders.

“It was good of you to come by,” she said.

The shanty door creaked on its hinges as it swung inward. He was burned with a rawness that wouldn't be dismissed as simply as she had just dismissed him. By the time Lilli had stepped inside and turned to close the door, Webb was filling the opening, a hand braced against the door to keep from being shut out.

“Is that all you can say—it was good of me to come?” When he pushed his way inside, she retreated a step, her eyes now intent on him, watching and waiting. “Why do you think I'm here?”

“I couldn't possibly guess.” She was too afraid of
being wrong. There were too many reasons that might have brought him here.

“Then explain to me what all that ‘times changing and people changing' was about,” Webb demanded. “Say it out plain if you don't want me anymore.” Something flickered in her eyes, and some of his confusion lifted. She was waiting for him to state his reason for coming, to declare his intention. He pushed the door shut and caught her shoulders all in the same motion. “I swear, Lilli, you've got a pride that can freeze a man out,” he muttered thickly and claimed her mouth in a quick, hungry kiss so there could be no more doubts about what he wanted.

The pressure of her lips unsettled him like none other could. Her hands rested lightly on his chest, not resisting, yet not inviting a closer embrace, either. Webb was puzzled by the way she kissed him and held back at the same time, not allowing herself to be swept away by the passion of her feelings.

“What is it, Lilli?” He lifted his head and spread his hand over the side of her face, tracing the outline of her warm lips with his thumb. Her lashes remained partially lowered.

“I wasn't sure why you were here.” She still wasn't. He could hear it in her voice.

His hand moved along her back, feeling the ripple of bones in her spine and the tension. “I'm here because I want you. I still love you. If there's been any change, the feelings have only grown stronger.” There was a degree of tightness in the smiling curve of his mouth. “I was beginning to wonder if it was the same for you. Is it?”

She tipped her head back to look at him and see what was in his eyes. There was a quiet expectancy in her expression, a waiting for something else he hadn't said. “Yes,” she admitted without any hesitance. She wasn't satisfied with what she saw in his face and pulled slowly out of his arms. Webb frowned when she turned away from him. “Where do we go from here?” she asked.

The pride of her carriage and the steadiness of her voice began to make an impression on him. Slowly Webb began to understand the cause for her proud reticence. She didn't know what role he was asking her to fill—that of a lover, a mistress, or his wife. She was concerned that he thought less of her because she had lain with him and let her feelings be known to him while she was married to another man. She didn't want to be regarded as less worthy of his respect.

Webb came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them in a caressing way and feeling the tremor of need that ran through her. She swayed backward a little, surrendering to his touch.

“I'd like to take you straight to my bed.” The clean smell of her dark copper hair stirred him. “But I think we'd better see the minister first.”

She swung around, her gaze sweeping his face to be certain he meant it. The rigidity went out of her body as he gathered her into his arms. The deep hunger in her kiss raced through him like fire, shaking him. It was a power she had over him that lifted him to some far height and let him glimpse the glory a man and a woman could know.

When they drew apart, neither of them was satisfied, but it was a simple matter that kisses alone wouldn't satisfy their needs and there was a moment of assurance required on both parts before another step was taken. Her long lips were swollen from his possessive kisses and the short stubble on his face had reddened her skin. The light in her blue eyes was especially for him. She ran a finger above his upper lip.

“You're sweating,” she murmured, then took his hand and laid it above her breast. “Can you feel my heart pounding?”

“Yes.” His own was racing like a steam engine, and his breath was coming just as rapidly. He slid his hand down to cover her breast, so taut and full against his palm. “Lilli.” There were a thousand nights of wanting her wrapped up in the groaning whisper of her name.

She came against him, resting her head on his shoulder and possessively curving her arms around him. An exciting contentment was on her, pleased with him and pleased with herself. She studied the throbbing pulse in his throat and the tanned column of his neck.

“Why didn't you come to see me during all that time?” she asked.

Surprise and bewilderment darkened his expression as he tipped his head down, trying to see her face. “You made it clear you were a married woman and didn't want to see me again,” he reminded her.

“I know,” Lilli murmured.

“Was I supposed to disregard that?” His mouth quirked dryly.

“Sometimes I hoped you would, even though I was relieved that you didn't.” She was aware of the contradiction in her answer and smiled at it, because it didn't make it any less true.

“Is that an example of female thinking?” Webb taunted gently. “You ask me to stay away, but you want me to come. You tell me to forget you and find someone else, then hope I don't.”

She tilted her head back to look at him, smiling, all gay and confident. “Yes, that's precisely what I meant.”

“That kind of logic is not easily followed.” He kissed at her lips, feeling them cling to his.

Then her fingertips were there, exploring the firm line of his mouth and tracing the crease that ran beside it. “I've only been widowed for three weeks. People will talk if we get married so soon.”

That struck a raw nerve. “I don't care if propriety dictates a year's mourning period. You've fulfilled whatever obligation you felt you owed Stefan. You'll be my wife—Mrs. Webb Calder—and no one will dare say anything against you. So let them talk. Nothing they might do or say can touch us,” he insisted roughly.

She listened to his words, weighing them against her own feelings. There was a part of her that would have
preferred not to rush into marriage, not to allow it to be a solution of convenience to settle where she would go, and to take time to be lovers before they settled into a routine of man and wife.

Her hesitation was obvious, and Webb realized her hint to delay their visit to the minister was a way of obtaining something else. It wasn't hard to understand, given the meanness of her past life and given the blandness of her practical marriage to Stefan.

“You'd like it if I would woo you and observe all the niceties of courtship, wouldn't you?” he guessed and observed her surprise at his accuracy. “You want me to win your love all over again.”

“Is that so wrong?” There was something half-teasing and half-serious in her look.

“It isn't wrong,” he assured her with a faint grin. “It's impossible. One week. That's all you're going to have before the wedding, and I'm taking you home with me today. I have no intention of letting you change your mind.”

“You like being masterful, don't you?” Lilli mocked, showing him the bold side of her nature again, rushing in where even fools trod softly. “You like the idea of telling me what to do. Well, it just so happens, Mr. Webb Calder, that it's what I want, too.”

It was all that needed to be said. The long, drugging kiss affirmed everything else. The thrusting contours of his body were hard against her straining flesh, arousing a desire that had lain dormant for so long. Her emotions no longer had to be repressed; no longer were they withering inside her, but instead were flourishing and blossoming in a way that was basic and timeless. She shuddered at the stimulating nibbles his mouth made on her ear, on the pulsing vein in her neck.

With an effort, he lifted his head and combed his fingers into her hair. “I want you to pack your things.” It would have been easy to continue this embrace through to the conclusion they both wanted. But when she finally lay in his arms, Webb wanted it to be under
his roof—not here where she had lived with Stefan. “Only bring your clothes and the personal belongings you want to keep. The rest you can sell or give away. I'll be back a little later to get you.”

Her hands curved around his neck, bringing his head down for a last kiss. “I'll be waiting.”

The scale of it was massive, like nothing Lilli had ever seen before. Two stories, with a wide porch running the full length of the front, the house stood on a knoll, overlooking smaller and less elaborate buildings. The slanting rays of a late-afternoon sun bathed it in a warm orange light that colored the glass panes with a welcoming glow. Gray tails of smoke came from two of the stone chimneys dotting the roof, slanted to shed winter snows, and waved against a saffron sky.

Webb was standing by the opened door to help her out of the automobile. She finally tore her gaze away from the house to look at him, vague disbelief still claiming her. “This is your home?” She let him take her hand as she stepped onto the running board, then to the ground.

“No. It's
our
home,” he corrected and held onto her hand while he led her up the main steps to the front doors. “It's commonly referred to as The Homestead.”

“The Homestead.” She laughed shortly at the unassuming name, finding it inappropriate for such a grand-looking place.

Webb stopped, turning her so she could look out at the endless brown sweep of Calder land. “This is the site that my father filed the original homestead claim on that was the beginning of the ranch. When he expanded his holdings, everyone started calling this section of land The Homestead to differentiate it from the new properties. Gradually, it came to mean this house.”

Instead of looking at the land, Lilli watched him,
catching the pride of ownership in his voice and his eyes—and the hint of humility. Somehow his status of wealth and power hadn't meant much until she had seen these surroundings. They had demanded a thoughtful study of him, but the man she believed she had known was the person standing beside her. The watchfulness was gone from her eyes when he glanced at her.