Eyes Of Silver, Eyes Of Gold Part 18

Rigid with his own violent emotions, without turning around he snarled, "You don't have to explain. You don't want me taking you in the barn. You don't want me any time any place, and you don't have to worry about it again."

He kept his back to her, caught one of the three-year-olds and started saddling it without even brus.h.i.+ng the dust off its back. Anne walked up close behind him.

"Turn around and listen to me."

He finished tightening the cinch and tying it off.

"Please, turn around and let me explain."

He removed the bridle from where it hung on the saddle horn and reached for the buckle on the halter, then stumbled into the horse as Anne's full weight hit him in the back. She started pounding him between the shoulder blades, yelling, "Turn around, d.a.m.n you!"

As the horse sidled away nervously, still under the tattoo of blows, Cord caught his balance and turned on her. He caught her wrists, forcing her arms behind her and threw her back against the corral fence, pinning her with his hips. It was as close as he would ever come to hitting a woman, and she should have been afraid.

Instead Anne gave him her sweetest smile. "Well, now that I've got your attention, will you listen? It was a spider."

Cord had expected excuses. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I don't know what came over me. It isn't proper in daylight. He felt like shaking his head to clear it. The gray eyes inches from his own were wide and clear.

Anne looked as if she thought those two words fixed everything. A spider. Somehow he unclenched his jaw muscles enough to force speech. "You're telling me there was a spider in that stall and it scared you."

"Yes, that's what I'm telling you, and if you hadn't disappeared like that you could have killed it or something and you could have helped me make sure nothing crawly was on me. What on earth is the matter with you?"

With a quiver he felt himself drawing back from some emotional abyss deep within.

He let go of her wrists and stopped crus.h.i.+ng her against the fence but didn't back off.

"How big was this spider?"

Her eyes dropped and he saw the evasive look. She looked up at him again and began to turn slightly pink. Finally, with a sigh, Anne marked off the length of the nail on her thumb.

At first he thought she was going to lie, but then he realized she was embarra.s.sed.

She crossed her arms defensively under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"A spider the size of your fingernail had you in a screaming panic?"

"I know it's stupid. I've been hearing how stupid it is all my life. I can't help it." Anne wouldn't meet his eyes now.

"Mm. What else are you afraid of?"

"Look, Cord, this isn't funny. If you were to bring one of those things in the house and try to tease me with it or something, we'd never be friends again."

Friends again. He swallowed hard. "I'm not going to tease you. What else are you afraid of?"

"Almost anything crawly. Other bugs. Snakes, lizards, frogs."

"Guess I better never tell Ephraim."

Anne's eyes flew up then, and she put one hand on his shoulder, tentatively. He bent to her mouth slowly, eyes never leaving hers, giving her all the time and every opportunity to change her mind, object in any way. As his lips touched hers she slid both arms around his neck, arching against him. He pulled her harder against him, pus.h.i.+ng one thigh between hers. He slid his tongue slowly along the inner surfaces of her lips, inquisitive, tasting.

As he began to deepen the kiss she responded hungrily, caressing his tongue with her own, arching into him.

Cord ended the kiss as he had begun it, searching her face, reading the emotions so plain to see there. He ran a thumb lightly across her jaw. "Now that I've saddled him, I'd better ride him."

"We could go to the house."

"Not now. I'll see you later."

Cord rode away because he was still too near the edge of the abyss. He needed to get away, to be alone to sort out the swirling emotions and regain his shredded control. He rode the colt to one of his favorite spots in the hills. From here he could see the ranch buildings far below, looking like a child's toys. He could detect no movement, no sign of Anne in the yard.

The sky was a clear azure today, the new spring gra.s.s studded with wildflowers. Here and there a lone pine moved slightly in the southerly breeze. The peace of the place began to seep slowly through him, easing the raging conflicts. He studied the faraway buildings, the pastures, the sky, deliberately looking only outwards, not inwards.

It was some time before he was ready to face himself, but he came to it. He was in love with his wife - probably had been half in love with her since the first day he met her.

He admitted it to himself and examined the idea carefully. It seemed, in the end, it didn't really make much difference.

From the beginning he had known that there would be a heavy price to pay for having her, for whatever time he was given. Admitting love did not change that. The pain of loss lurked in the future. It would be his and he would have to bear it in whatever way he could when the time came.

But what difference did it make now - in the weeks, months, even a year she might stay? If she knew that his world was alive and full of light with her in it, half-dead and dreary without her, she might stay even when she no longer wanted to. He did not want to trap her, cage her when she was ready to go.

He had hoped that she might accept his touch, but had never believed she might return his kiss or show the beginnings of pa.s.sion. Now there was no way he would not try to steal a little more of something he never expected to have.

Cord had spent a lifetime hiding feelings. Surely he could let go a little, love her a little, and keep her from recognizing anything but l.u.s.t. Maybe it would even be possible in whatever time there was to store up enough memories to help him through the lonely years to come.

With a sigh he let his restless, impatient colt head for home.

FACE WET WITH TEARS, FEELING thoroughly rejected, Anne dragged herself into the house and curled up in the rocking chair. How could he kiss her like that and just ride off? That kiss had made her lose all sense of time and place, feel like the fluffy seed of the cottonwood trees, floating above the ground with no direction or substance.

How could he?

All cried out, she began to reconsider the afternoon's events. She thought of the words Cord had hurled at her in anger, and gradually she realized he had not been angry, but hurt.

The idea was so strange, so foreign to her concept of what men were like, she could not accept it at first. Little by little she began to see that if he believed his own words it explained many of his actions. But how could he believe such a thing? From the beginning she wanted more, not less, of him in every way.

It doesn't matter, whispered an inner voice, he still believes someday you'll just get tired of this life and walk away. You know that. Why shouldn't he believe all sorts of other things that aren't true?

She looked around the cheerful little house she loved so much. Six months she thought. It's been just six months, and we've already come so far. Two people who barely knew each other thrown together in violence and ugliness.

She sighed, a deep shaky breath. Leave him alone her inner voice said. Give him room, give him time. Words won't change his mind about this any more than about your leaving. He has to come to it all by himself.

Cord didn't return until almost time for evening ch.o.r.es, and it seemed he had decided to pretend nothing had happened, to revert to the way things had been. I can stand it for a while, she thought, not for long, but for a while.

Only a few days pa.s.sed, however, before Anne looked up from preparing lunch to see him standing watching her with such a look of naked desire her stomach did a gentle flip.

She smiled uncertainly at him.

"Do you know that every time you look at me like that you erase the hurt of at least a hundred times someone said I wasn't ladylike enough? You make me feel so - female. I think to myself that must be the way a hungry wolf looks at a lamb."

He moved then, walked to her. She found herself thinking maybe topaz, maybe his eyes are like smoked topaz. This kiss was not tentative, but sure and certain. For months she had dreamed of kisses, but the sensual magic of the firm lips was sweeter than anything she had known to dream about.

All her senses were already on fire as his tongue teased and tasted. His hands cupped her b.u.t.tocks, pulling her against his groin so that she felt the effect of her body on his.

She arched into him, trying to relieve the ache in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and nipples by pressing them into the solid muscles of his chest.

As Anne sagged back against the edge of the work table, he lifted her, and instinctively her legs locked around his hips, her hands went first to his waist, then his ribs, then his back, feeling the sinewy ripple of muscle as he moved.

He kissed his way slowly down her throat. Soft whimpers of pleasure began to vibrate from her with each breath. He unb.u.t.toned first her blouse, then the front of her cotton undervest, freeing a breast and rubbing the nipple with one thumb, kissing the upper surface, then beginning to taste his way back across her collarbone ever upwards.

She could barely moan words. "Please, I never meant, never meant you shouldn't, please...."

Glittering eyes met hers for a moment before he cut her off again with his mouth. He kissed her until she was floating, wondering if she would faint for lack of breath, then pulled away and fastened on the exposed nipple. The instant of pleasurable sensation she remembered was nothing compared to this. As his tongue circled the already erect tip, fiery quivers raced outwards. All her insides were turning to molten liquid. The need for him was a throbbing void between her thighs.

Anne undid his belt, freed him. The feel of his erect organ pressed against a thigh or her stomach in the darkness was familiar, but now her tentative fingers explored the hot, pulsating length. She scooted forward, arched against him, but was thwarted by her own undergarments, a problem Cord solved with a single rip.

As his fingers explored, and he found how ready her body was for his, he made a low sound, half groan, half growl. He fastened on her eyes, watched as he entered her. She couldn't bear more, hid her face against him, even as she locked her legs tighter around him, moved with him.

Anne had never imagined mortal humans were allowed to feel like this. Skimming waves of pleasure started deep inside where his body so rhythmically stroked, and undulated through every part of her. She couldn't keep herself quiet, couldn't.... An explosion of sensation rocked her, sent aftershocks up her spine, through her belly and b.r.e.a.s.t.s, ripped a sound from her she didn't know she could make. His release brought another s.h.i.+ver of sensation, then it was over yet he was still inside her, her legs and arms were still tightly locked around him as he slumped against her, cheek against her cheek.

Panic dispersed the last of the erotic mists. All Anne's ideas of what pa.s.sed between husband and wife in the night centered around a totally pa.s.sive woman. The first time she slipped her hands onto his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles moving, she had worried what he would think.

And now - now! How could she bear it if her wanton response made him ashamed of her, if there was censure in his eyes?

Perhaps he felt the change, for he stirred and straightened. Afraid to meet his gaze directly, Anne peeked quickly from the corner of her eyes. What she saw sent her heart soaring, for in his eyes was not a smile, but a grin. His voice was throaty. "So what do you think, lamb chop?"

Hours later, taking dried laundry down from the clothesline, laughter still bubbled to the surface. Anne thought as she had so often in the past months, I like him so much.

Who ever would have thought I'd like him so much?

Her hands went still on the line. She did like him, but that wasn't all. When had she crossed the line and started to love him? It was not, she knew, just today. Today would not have been possible if she did not already love him. Was it the night he made the tea to ease her pain? - when he struggled to the porch and used the only two shots he had strength for to hit Meeks, who had hurt him, and Samuels, who had hurt her? - when he tried to force her to take almost all of his cash in an effort to protect her from an uncertain fate?

Or had the small seed of friends.h.i.+p planted when they were both only ten years old grown slowly over all the years through the few encounters after that until it had finally flowered in these past months?

She sat on the back steps overcome by her discovery. He'll never love me back she thought. Was that true, or was she merely accepting the att.i.tude of his family and others?

Not long ago she had thought him hard, cold, and indifferent. He was really none of those things. It had only been six months.

Anne squared her shoulders and headed back to her work. If he never loves me, loving him will have to be enough, she decided, but who knows what another six months may bring?

CHAPTER 25.

WHEN CORD PROPOSED TAKING MARTHA up on her invitation for Sunday dinner, Anne kept her feelings to herself and agreed. In truth never spending another moment anywhere near any of his family again would have been fine with her. Except maybe Martha.

Still, considering what her own family was like, trying to get along with Cord's family was the least she could do, and it was nice not to drive two hours to town, listen to Reverend Pratt go on for another couple of hours, and then drive right home again.

Also, her father had surprised everyone by giving her mother permission to visit at Ephraim's after the Wells family's Sunday dinner was finished, so long as Rob accompanied her. Leona didn't even wash her own dishes, just left them soaking and rushed down the street.

As soon as Rob and Leona appeared, Cord disappeared. He took a "walk," which Anne knew included visits with Bob Windon, Noah Reynolds, and others like the LeClercs. She envied him the escape, because her mother and brother did not want to talk about the wonders of her new life, news around town, or the world in general.

They barely listened to the stories of the new foals that were now being born, enchanting, whisker-chinned little creatures that Anne could not see enough of. Nor were they impressed with the description of Rose's new calf, Jasmine, an equally endearing little charmer that made it hard to leave the barn after ch.o.r.es.

No, her mother and her brother only wanted to talk her into returning to a "decent"

life. She stopped the worst of it by informing them she wouldn't listen to anything negative about her husband the first Sunday. The second Sunday, she paused only long enough to say icily, "His parents were married," then walked out of the room when Rob called Cord "that mongrel b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Yet the pressure was always there as her mother described "perfect" matches, weddings, and marriages, and her brother praised almost every other female in town as a "real lady."

The Bennett family was always in the background, and in Anne's opinion, their silence was evidence of their concurrence. Usually, Cord and Anne were halfway back to the ranch before she stopped gnas.h.i.+ng her teeth. Cord let her know in the beginning it was her choice.

"We don't have to go, you know."

"You like being around your wretched family, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, a little. Not enough for you to be unhappy over it. Seems you need to make peace with your family too. Your mother and brother anyway."

She sighed, but agreed, "I know. Maybe they'll calm down if I give them a while."

So they continued the Sunday visits and found an unexpected dividend. Knowing where to find him, people began to seek Cord out at Ephraim's to ask about horses for sale.

With Armand and Helene LeClerc cornering every listener, willing or unwilling, to sing the praises of Silvie the beautiful and Silvie the perfect, they sold two more of the little buggy horses in the next few weeks. Cord refused to sell Sweet William. They had to choose from the others.

"If I sell him, I'll be driving something named Petunia or Rosebud."

He sounded disgusted when he said it, but Anne knew the real reason was that he felt she liked Willie more than the others. Some Sundays they would bring two or three saddle horses in behind the buggy for people to try. Somehow buyers also seemed to be paying decent prices for the horses.

Cord was almost getting used to nervous buyers knocking on Ephraim's door and asking for him on Sunday afternoons, but when Martha answered the door one Sunday in early May and got fl.u.s.tered because it was Virginia Stone come to call, he was surprised.

He knew from Anne that Mrs. Stone was another of the women in town who had been constantly held up to her as a model of what she should be like. And so far as he was concerned, like all the others, she wasn't in Anne's cla.s.s. She was always turned out in fancy clothes that looked hard to breathe in, and her reddish hair was always so perfectly tamed Cord wondered about glue. The only reason he knew so much about Mrs. Stone and her husband John was that Mrs. Stone's pa.s.sion was her horses, and she had some enviable Thoroughbred stock.

Now he watched with amus.e.m.e.nt as the woman sat in Martha's kitchen, fiddled with a cup of coffee and worked herself up to trying to talk him into doing something she must know he wouldn't want to do.

"I have a Thoroughbred stallion I need help with," she said. "I purchased him in Kentucky last year, and since he's been here he's become increasingly difficult. At least one horseman has labeled him a rogue, but he was wonderful when I saw him back East.

He's beautifully trained and he was exceptionally biddable for such a high bred stallion.

Mr. Windon is unwilling to take him on, but he said you could help me."

Cord wondered if the woman had ever sat in a kitchen before or ever addressed anyone who wasn't pure white except to give an order. Then again, maybe he should give her credit for doing those things on behalf of one of her horses.

Her gloved hands were fussing at the rim of her coffee cup. She put the cup down, hid her hands under the table, and continued. "My stableman is no longer willing to deal with Firebrand, and last night my husband told me unless I can find someone to handle the horse, he's going to have him shot. He's so angry he won't even discuss letting me sell him. Would you please give me an opinion. I'll pay you for your time."

Cord was polite but firm. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Stone. I raise and train my own. I don't have time to work spoiled stock for other people."