Between Strangers (5 page)

Kneeling on the edge of the cargo compartment and nearly climbing right inside, Marcy kept on searching. “I think I found it,” she finally hollered over her shoulder. “At least I've worked the bag's straps free. It's buried.”

All he could see from this vantage point was a curvy, rounded female bottom, covered over in skin-tight jeans. “Let me get it for you,” he proposed. “The wind's too cold for you to be out here this long.” And he was afraid he couldn't stand watching her much longer without touching.

“I've got it,” she grunted. “I just need to give it a good tug.”

He bent his head, trying to see what she was doing. Using both hands and her entire upper body, Marcy was in a tug-of-war with two half-buried plastic straps held down by a huge mound of heavy luggage.

“Here. Let me help…” He inched forward to grab the straps at the exact moment they snapped.

She yelped and came flying backward. Fortunately, his body was right there to catch her, but the momentum threw him off balance and he slipped on a patch of ice. Both of them landed on the road, with him lying flat on his back and her on top of him and grinding her rounded fanny tightly against his crotch.

Uh-oh. Now she was bound to feel the truth of what she did to him.

Using every bit of the agility he'd honed on the rodeo circuit and a hell of a lot more determination than he was feeling at the moment, Lance twisted his
body and dragged them both to their feet in one smooth move. When they were righted, he discovered that one of his hands was holding her arm at a point way too close to her breast and his other hand was firmly splayed against her stomach.

It was tough letting go.

Cursing silently, he dragged his arms to his sides. There was no chance he would be able to look her in the eyes right now, so he glanced over her shoulder to where the baby still sat, crying in the back seat.

“Sorry,” he managed on a ragged breath. “Now get in. And I'll bring you the damn bag.”

 

She couldn't seem to find a comfortable spot and tried squirming under her seat belt. The move earned her a silent glare from the driver.

They hadn't said a word to each other since the embarrassing incident with the bag that had taken place several hours ago. Feeling a flaming-red rash of shame creep up her neck again, she thought back to how preoccupied she'd been while trying to do her best for Angie. Angie needed a change, and the diapers were in her bag. And Marcy had also wanted to find the packets of restaurant crackers she'd secreted into the bag, hoping to give them to the baby and take her mind off the loud noises of the potholed road and the howling wind.

But then those darn cheap straps had broken, sailing her backward right on top of Lance. At first the surprise took her breath away. But as she'd hissed in a lungful of the crisp air, it had dawned on her exactly
what she had landed on—and the realization left her gasping and breathless all over again.

Amazing. Just sitting in the same car with him was making them both all hot and bothered. But she'd thought…she'd imagined…that he had been immune to the electricity. He seemed so stoic and…oh, what was the word? Well, she couldn't think of one that really fit, but
unemotional
was as good a description as any.

And here she'd found out with one shocking swoop that, even out in the savage, freezing wind, he had been thinking of her in the same way she'd been dreaming of him. She could barely get her brain around the idea. This unusual need. This wild and crazy craving to have him touch her, to touch him in return, was a shared sensation.

All this time she'd known he was intense, but she'd never noticed the hunger in his eyes before. Hadn't he told her he intended to marry a woman he'd never slept with yet? Such an idea seemed exactly the opposite of the lustful look she'd seen in those black-as-night eyes.

A sudden sharp turn in her thoughts had her crossing her arms over her chest and sitting up straight in her seat. Could it be possible he was the same kind of no-good character she'd run into often during the past nine months who figured a divorcée was fair game? Good enough to take to bed, but not suitable to take home to the family?

Well, if that was his game, he could just stay in his silence-filled bubble for the rest of the trip for all she cared. As much as she had liked the novelty of
talking to a real adult, Marcy was no stranger to silence.

In fact, she had grown to love the quiet of the reference stacks in her hometown library so much that she'd spent much of her childhood there. Reading, dreaming of faraway places and the exotic people who would live there.

Going away in books had been a pleasure. And a refuge from her parents' arguments at home.

When her ex-husband, Mike, had first come to town, he'd been so charming and talkative. Of course, she'd never felt the tingle of tension down her spine with him that Lance had been creating in her over the past day. But Mike had talked and talked. Mostly of taking her to see the big wide world, and of all the places he'd been and all the places where her soul had longed to go.

They hadn't known each other a full month when she married him and left her boring life behind.

Ha. That was such a joke. They had ended up traveling a grand total of several hundred miles to a cramped apartment in Minneapolis. And there began a new boring life of tiring menial jobs, no money and no pleasure. Sneaking away from it for a few hours to sit in the warm, quiet treasure of the public library, once again had helped her hold onto her sanity.

No, indeed. Silence was no enemy of hers. For much of her life it had been her only friend and companion.

“Are you getting hungry?” The sound of his voice broke through to her and she turned to stare at his profile.

“Hungry? Me? Not really.”

“Well, I am. We've been making pretty good time since the snow stopped falling late last night. But we're going to have to stop for gas soon.” He didn't turn his head to look at her, and she wondered if he was still embarrassed.

“Will we make it to Cheyenne before Christmas?”

“I'm still hopeful I can get you there and be at the ranch before the Christmas Eve party is over.”

“Oh. Well, that would be great.” So… Lusting after her had apparently not changed his mind about asking someone else to marry him.

Marcy was afraid his motives were a lot more complicated than what she'd first imagined. She shook her head softly to herself and vowed to remain aloof.

Friends…lovers… Rats. She didn't have the time to be anything with Lance White Eagle Steele. And it was a darn good thing she'd realized it before the fantasies carried her away.

“We're about to enter an area of western South Dakota called ‘the Badlands,'” he told her. “I spent a lot of time around here during my rodeo days. In fact, I know a place right up the way where we can fill up the SUV and have a good meal all at the same time.”

He glanced over to her with a crooked smile on his lips. “Just relax and think of warming your body in a friendly atmosphere and of tempting your mouth with a delicious home-baked dessert. That'll make you hungry.”

Oh, yeah, she thought as she closed her eyes. Just the deep, smooth sound of his voice was making her hungrier than she'd ever been in her whole life. Darn it.

M
arcy sat on a stool at the counter and stared up into the violet eyes of one of the most stunning women she'd ever seen. Thick, rich, mink-colored hair framed that face the same way the long, dark lashes framed those fantastic eyes.

“Marianne, this is Marcy and the baby's name is Angie.” Lance stood right behind her stool, holding Angie in his arms and talking to the gorgeous woman behind the counter as if they were dear old friends. Or maybe something more.

“Welcome, Marcy and Angie. I sure hope you're hungry.” Marianne wore a sweater of deepest amethyst that matched her eyes, and her smile was as wide and genuine as her words.

Marcy folded her hands in her lap, stared down and absently worried about the loose threads in her old
gray coat. “It's nice to meet you,” she murmured without looking up. “But Angie only needs a few crackers and a glass of milk. And I'll be just fine with coffee. Thanks.” She couldn't help but compare her own worn, dull clothes to Marianne's beautiful outfit, and ended up wishing she could find a quiet hole to crawl into.

She finally glanced up just as a look passed between Lance and Marianne. Yep. There was definitely a history between these two.

“I'll go find a high chair for Angie,” Marianne said. “You folks sit at a table and make yourselves at home.”

Lance handed the baby over to Marcy. “I'll help.”

Marianne shot a glance in Marcy's direction. “No need. I'll be right back.”

There weren't many patrons in the small café, but then, it was midafternoon and the day before Christmas Eve. They removed their outerwear and arranged themselves at a quiet table in the corner and, before Marcy knew what had happened, she was digging into a big plate of homemade chicken and dumplings. Angie had her own plate with chopped up pieces of the same meal, and Lance was helping to spoon them into the baby's mouth.

The place was warm and homey, just as he'd said. Spotless and decorated in a western theme, the café looked prosperous. And that darn, tall and gorgeous Marianne had been more than kind.

Marianne came out of the kitchen and stood beside their table. “If everything's okay here so far, I'll
bring the deep-dish apple crisp as soon as it comes out of the oven. I think you'll love it.”

Marcy tried to say no thanks, but her mouth was too full to protest that she couldn't possibly eat dessert on top of everything else.

Lance smiled at their hostess and ducked his head as Angie tried to feed him a fistful of her dumplings. “That'd be great, thanks,” he said to Marianne. “By the way, how's Hank doing? Where is he today?”

Marianne rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “On the roof. He's shoveling off the snow accumulation before the next storm hits later.”

“I'd like to see him while I'm here. Maybe I should go lend him a hand.”

“After you finish dinner you can go up on my roof and work it off if you feel you must,” Marianne said with a wry smile. “Go out the back way when you're done. I know he'd love to see you, too.”

Marianne went into the kitchen and Marcy choked down her last bite. “Here.” She took the spoon from Lance's hand. “Let me clean up Angie while you finish eating.” She set aside Angie's plate and dug into the bag for one of the wipes that Lance had bought at the convenience store.

“Marianne is a nice lady,” she said casually as Lance polished off his dinner. “Have you known each other long?”

“About ten years, more or less,” he replied between spoonfuls.

“Were you two, uh…”

Lance slid his empty plate across to a vacant spot and leaned his elbows on the table. “If you're asking
if we were a couple, the answer is yeah. Once. A long time ago.”

There went that big mouth of hers getting her in trouble again. But he was studying her with such an intense perusal that she'd lost her mind. Those black onyx eyes looked over at her from under thick, dark lashes, and Marcy could swear lightning bolts zinged out of them.

Well, if she'd already been rude, she might as well go all the way. “What happened?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Timing wasn't right, I guess. Mostly she wanted to settle down, and I wasn't done being a bronc rider yet.”

“But now you are settled down. You have a home.”

“So does she.” He waved a hand around at the interior of the lovely café. “Marianne has been happily married for over four years to one of the best rodeo clowns I ever knew.

“Hank once was one of the finest athletes on the circuit…until he shattered his leg one too many times. Now he runs a terrific restaurant and busy filling station. He's from this part of the country…with deep roots and family.”

Marcy shook her head. “But that seems so sad. That you and Marianne didn't want the same thing at the same time.”

Lance sat back in his chair and crossed his ankles in front of him. “Things work out the way they're supposed to. Sometimes, no matter how much you think you want something, it just isn't going to hap
pen.” He took a breath. “And that's usually for the best.”

Boy, did she ever know about that. She was beyond grateful that Mike had dumped her when he found out about the baby. The only good thing he'd ever done for her was Angie. And his leaving gave them an opportunity for a better life.

“When I was a kid, I thought if you lived right and were good enough, that you'd meet the right person, fall in love and be happy ever after,” she said quietly. “I thought it was like magic. But it isn't, is it?”

“Magic?” One corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile, half scowl. “No. I don't believe in magic. I believe that everyone makes their own choices and opportunities.”

Yeah, she believed in people taking charge of their own destinies and figured he must believe that, too. Otherwise, why would he be preparing to ask a woman he didn't love to marry him?

She let her gaze slide over the black T-shirt and jeans he wore beneath his heavy coat and nearly fainted when she saw his bulging muscles flex and stretch under the material. What woman in her right mind would say no to him?

But the story of his and Marianne's failed romance was all simply too sad to contemplate. And soon he might be heading for the exact same kind of failure.

Marcy wished with everything in her that she could turn back time and believe in the magic once again.

 

Lance stood next to their empty table with his hands folded behind his back and stared out the floor-
to-ceiling window at the snowy scene beyond the café. He should've been thinking of the ranch and of how his wranglers would be getting on with their various jobs, though he knew they would do just fine. But all he could see in his head were babies.

He'd started out by thinking about Angie and of how she would manage, traveling the world with her mother—of how she would look as she grew into a beautiful child. It didn't take long for that image to evolve into pictures of other babies. Babies with dark eyes and hair that looked just like his.

Absently he rubbed at a spot over his heart and blinked his eyes. It would happen for him soon. He would make it happen.

“She's lovely.” Marianne spoke softly from behind him and interrupted his thoughts.

“Huh? Who?” Lance turned away from the wide picture window and faced her in the now empty café.

“Marcy. She's lovely. I showed her where she could change the baby and freshen up,” Marianne told him. “This is the first woman you've brought here. I can see that she's special to you.”

He shook his head a little more vehemently than he'd meant and took a step back. “It's not like that. I rescued them from the side of the road and I've promised to take them to Cheyenne. I hardly know her.”

Marianne tilted her head and pursed her lips. “That brings up another good question. Just what are you doing so far from home in the dead of winter? You haven't bothered to come for a visit since you moved
out to that ranch in western Montana. Why come now, so close to Christmas and in one of the worst blizzards we've seen in years?”

He felt the perverse grin sneaking out around the corners of his mouth. “Impatience. Stupidity. Arrogance. Take your pick.” Easing the bus pan from her hands, he started gathering dirty dishes off the table. “I got it in my head that I had to be back at the ranch by Christmas Eve. And neither the worst blizzard in memory nor all the flights at O'Hare being cancelled was going to stop me.”

“Christmas Eve? That's tomorrow night and you have to stop first in Cheyenne?” Marianne looked confused. “What happens if you don't make it there on time?”

“Then what I planned to do on Christmas Eve will wait for a few days.” He slid the last of the plates and silverware into the gray plastic pan. “Looking back on it now, I'm not too sure why I thought it was so important to be there on a certain date. But I just did.”

Marianne swiped a wet cloth over the table and chairs and straightened up with a quick glance out the window. “The weather's changing. That last front must be coming through. It's ten degrees warmer than this morning and the wind's died down some.” She turned her chin to look at him but nodded toward the window. “It's already starting to snow again. If you want to help Hank, you'd better scoot.”

He hefted the bus pan into the kitchen while Marianne trailed behind. “I won't be long,” he said. “Tell Marcy where I've gone and have her wait in
side till I'm done.” Dropping the pan on a counter, he turned to head out the back door.

Marianne stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Whether you want to admit it or not, she
is
special to you. You look at her like you want to gobble her whole.”

Stopping midstride, he swung around and sputtered out denials.

She just smiled. “Deny it all you want. But there was a time when I would've given a year of my life if you'd ever looked at me that way. In your heart, she
is
different.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his mouth before he spoke. “My heart has nothing to do with anything. We don't want the same things. And after I drop her and the baby off in Cheyenne, we'll never see each other again.”

Marianne watched him in silence, still smiling softly.

“I swear, we haven't so much as touched,” he protested. “And I don't
intend
to ever touch her, either.” It burned a hole right through his gut to say that—and mean it. But there were some things you just didn't do. “We've only recently met and she's going to a new job. A job that will take her overseas for six months.”

He shook his own head now, trying to clear it. “I'm in the middle of building a home in Montana on the ranch. It's the first place I've ever felt that I really belonged.” He set his jaw and turned back to the door. “Whatever might've been between us is impossible.”

Before he could put his hand on the doorknob, Marianne had one more thing to say. “Impossible or not, Lance. You can't just turn your back. Not if what you will be missing is a chance at magic.”

Speechless and suddenly angry, Lance muttered under his breath. Another fanciful female and that “magic” junk.

Hell.

He slammed out the door and drew in a deep lungful of frosty air. Everything he'd ever wanted was waiting for him back at the ranch in Montana. Another few days and all of this would be nothing more than a fading memory.

At least…he could only hope so.

 

Marcy shifted the baby in her arms and walked into the café's kitchen. “You have a lovely home, Marianne. It's so convenient to your restaurant. Thanks for letting me use it to clean up and change Angie.”

“You're most welcome. Have a seat.” She dried her hands on a cloth towel and nodded at the kitchen table. “Lance said for you to wait for him here where it's warm. He's outside irritating my husband while he finishes up on the roof.” Marianne chuckled, tossed the towel and pulled out two chairs so they could sit down.

“In the spring, Hank and I are planning on enlarging the café,” Marianne told her as she arranged the baby so they could sit together. “And by next fall I'm hoping we'll be able to add on to the house. It depends on how the business does.”

“How do you like living so far out in the coun
try?” Marcy propped the baby on her lap. “Lance told me that your husband has roots and family nearby. So I suppose he's happy here. But how do you like it? Are you ever lonely?”

Marianne's smile broadened into a grin. “Heavens no. Lonely? That's a hoot. We're so busy with the business that I barely have time to take a bath, let alone think about being lonely.”

Angie started to fuss. Without asking, Marianne reached around, picked up a clean spoon and handed it to the baby. “Besides, it was me that wanted to move back here and start this business.

“Hank has a brother, Bobby, who lives west of here about fifty miles. Bobby and Lance were competitors and best buddies on the circuit when Bobby fell in love with a friend of mine. At about that same time, Bobby was offered a job at the new casino that was opening up on the reservation in Pine Ridge and he decided to move back home and settle down.”

Marcy jiggled Angie as the baby tapped her spoon on the wood table.

Marianne patted the baby's cheek and smiled. “Bobby has two kids and a terrific house on ten acres now. He's doing great and they're real happy. After Hank and I started going out, we would stop in to visit with Bobby and Vicki when we'd get a moment free from the circuit. I began to yearn for a simpler life with no traveling and a big family all around me.”

“Were you with the rodeo?” Marcy realized too late the question might be another blunder, but…

Marianne just laughed. “I did barrel riding as a
teenager. But I wasn't the best. After a few years I took charge of one of the concession stands…hamburgers, tacos and nachos…you know?”