Dakota Home (13 page)

For maybe half an hour, he held and kissed her. Then, as the room slowly grew colder, she started to feel chilled. He reached for a quilt that lay folded at the end of the sofa and used it to cover them both. It was tempting to close her eyes and sleep, but she didn't want to squander a moment of the peace and serenity she found in his arms.

Eventually Jeb did get up. She watched as he readjusted his clothes, modestly turned away from her, and Maddy reflected that it was a little late for them to be shy with each other. He was gone a long time, long enough for her to worry.

She put a couple of logs on the fire. Despite that, cold crept into the house, and she wrapped the quilt around her arms and cuddled up in the recliner close to the fireplace. Against her will, she fell asleep.

It was pitch-dark when she woke. She had a crick in her neck and her throat felt parched. “Jeb?” She whispered his name.

“Over here.” He sounded like he was on the sofa.

“What time is it?”

A short hesitation and then he whispered, “Midnight.”

“What took you so long?”

“I can't get the generator working.”

That explained the cold. She clutched the quilt more tightly about her shoulders. “Is it still snowing?”

“Last time I looked it was.”

As if to second his answer, the wind howled outside the door.

“You should have awakened me,” she said.

“I…” He hesitated. “I didn't think that was such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Again he paused before answering. “After what happened earlier, I didn't think waking you was the right thing to do for…obvious reasons.”

Maddy heard the rustle of his movements as he stood. A moment passed and she could make out his shadowy form. He bent down in front of the fireplace and added a fresh supply of wood to the dying embers.

“You go ahead and take the sofa,” he urged her.

The fire caught and flared to life, the flames brightening the room. Maddy saw that the sofa converted to a bed.

Keeping the quilt around her, she did as he asked, noting that he'd covered her with several extra blankets. She scooped them into her arms and spread them across those he'd already placed on the sofa bed. Then she quickly nestled beneath the covers.

Once the fire was strong again, he stood and moved to the seat she'd just left.

“I thought you'd be coming back here,” Maddy protested, wondering why he insisted on staying so far away from her.

“I…I'll sleep here for now,” he told her.

Maddy wasn't fooled. “Jeb, come back.”

“Maddy, don't you understand? Haven't you figured it out yet? Look what happened the last time. Don't you know what you do to me? We had unprotected sex. I've never done anything like that in my life.”

“I don't make a habit of it myself,” she felt obliged to tell him. It was completely out of character for her.

“You think I don't know that? What happened was a fluke, an accident. We were both so—”

“Jeb,” she said, stopping him. “I'm cold and I need you.”

His hesitation was only slight. She pulled back the covers as he approached. He sat on the edge of the mattress, his back to her. After a moment, he lay on his side, as far from her as the bed would allow.

Maddy would have none of that, and scooted over, pressing her head to his shoulder. Sighing, she closed her eyes and placed an arm about him. It wasn't long before he'd shifted to face her and then his arm was around her, too.

“That's much better,” she whispered and felt his smile against her temple.

“Much better,” he agreed.

Maddy fell asleep again, and when she woke she was alone and the room was full of light. The sounds of the storm told her the blizzard continued to rage. Sitting up, she yawned, and her breath formed soft clouds in the cold.

“Jeb?” She tossed aside the covers and quickly reached for her jeans.

“In here.” His voice came from the kitchen, where he'd rigged up a small propane stove. With the window open, he'd brewed a pot of coffee and then shut down the stove; Maddy, though hardly a camper, knew he'd done that because of the danger involved in using propane indoors.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Starved.”

Taking a pot holder, he poured a mug and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said and kissed his cheek. That seemed to take him by surprise and flustered him.

Holding the mug with both hands, Maddy sat down at the kitchen table and drew her knees up. “We're going to have to talk about it eventually, you know.”

He didn't ask for an explanation, for which she was grateful. “I've said everything I intend to say on the subject,” he muttered.

“All right.” She wasn't going to force him to discuss the details of their lovemaking. She knew, even if he didn't, that what they'd done had greatly affected their relationship. Either it would bind them together or it would destroy their fragile chances for a future. With so much in the balance, she was content to leave things as they were. For now.

The storm continued all that day. Thankfully, the telephone lines weren't affected—for the moment, anyway—and she was able to call Lindsay, who would let everyone know she was safe with Jeb. They passed the time playing first cribbage, then Scrabble and finally Monopoly. They worked together fixing dinner and ate by candlelight. Even though it was ridiculously early, they went to bed, snuggling close to each other for warmth.

Jeb had avoided any physical contact that day, but sharing a bed, their arms around each other, it was difficult to ignore the exploding attraction between them. When his hand accidentally brushed against her breast, he quickly lowered it. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Jeb,” she whispered, bringing his hand back to her breast and then sighing audibly when his palm closed over it. “Don't you think it's a little silly to wear your prosthesis to bed?”

“I didn't want—”

“Don't you normally take it off when you go to bed? Please feel free to do that now. Anyway—” she laughed “—you've seen all of me.”

“I didn't want you to see my leg.”

“I won't look,” she promised him, although it was impossible to see anything in this darkness, anyway. The mattress shifted as he sat up. He brought her close to his side when he returned, and Maddy noticed that he'd removed his jeans as well as his prosthesis. His bare skin touched hers.

“Better?” she asked.

“Much,” he whispered.

They cuddled again and his hand moved to her breast, but with the barrier of his jeans removed she was well aware of his body's response to her closeness. He tried to edge away from her, but she wouldn't let him.

“Jeb, it's all right, you know.”

He went still.

“I want you again, too,” she whispered.

B
uffalo Bob turned off the neon light that read 3 OF A KIND. To his amazement, he'd done record business during the blizzard. He had a state license to sell wine and liquor and kept his supply stocked for the occasional customer wanting to purchase wine for a special dinner or maybe some Scotch or bourbon. By the afternoon of the third day, he'd sold every last bottle he had. Wonders never ceased.

The blizzard roared for three full days, and Bob had met people he'd never seen before. Snowmobiles had plowed their way through the storm, loaded up with liquor and groceries, and then just as quickly disappeared.

At night, the town was silent. No one ventured outside except in an emergency. The electricity was working again, but he suspected service hadn't been restored to the outlying areas yet. At least he'd be warm tonight.

Standing by the window, Buffalo Bob viewed the town, its streets looking pristine and unfamiliar with their covering of snow. There'd been a lot of concern about Maddy Washburn, but thankfully she'd reported in to Lindsay who'd told Hassie. Hassie then relayed the message to Sarah. Telephone service was sporadic during the storm, and apparently no one had been able to get through to Jeb and Maddy since. At least Maddy was safe and sound, which was all that mattered.

He grinned, remembering Sarah's reaction when she learned Maddy was with Jeb. She'd been downright delighted. Bob rubbed his face as he mulled over the information. So that was the lay of the land, was it? Now that he thought about it, he realized it made sense. Steve Baylor had recently come into the bar, complaining about Maddy. Apparently he'd asked her to dinner and she'd turned him down.

Matt Eilers had muttered something about Maddy, too, when she declined to join him for a drink. In Matt's case, he figured she'd made the right decision. Personally Bob liked Steve Baylor more than the other man.

Now Buffalo Bob understood why she wasn't interested in either Matt or Steve. She had her eye on Jeb McKenna. More power to her. Bob firmly believed that people should go after what they wanted, and if Maddy wanted Jeb, he wished her luck.

Bob's gaze moved down the street to the grocery. With Maddy AWOL, so to speak, the Loomis twins had filled in nicely. They'd been sleeping at the store, keeping it open long hours for people in need of supplies. It wasn't only booze those snowmobilers had come into town seeking. He suspected Maddy would be pleasantly surprised when she returned and counted up her receipts.

The storm sure hadn't hurt sales for either of them.

Turning out the barroom lights, Bob thought of Merrily. He hadn't heard from her since the night she'd phoned from Santa Cruz. His gut wrenched every time he recalled their conversation. He thought about all the things he should have said. Countless times since, he'd berated himself for mentioning money. It'd always been a sore point with Merrily and he knew it.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He prayed she'd give him another chance. Prayed she'd return to Buffalo Valley the way she had a dozen times before. Prayed his words hadn't turned her completely away.

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he walked over to the bar and reached for a shot glass and an open bottle of his best Kentucky bourbon. With those in hand, he started up toward his room. A song came to him and even though he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket—as Merrily always put it—he found himself singing the refrain. “Buffalo Gal, won't you come back tonight, come back tonight, come back tonight….”

After he set the bottle and glass on his nightstand, Bob slumped onto the side of his bed. If Merrily were with him now, they'd cuddle up and find inventive ways to keep each other warm. His smile was brief, his heart hungry. That night, he missed her more than at any other time.

 

The electricity had returned to the ranch the second day of the storm, and Jeb knew he should be glad, but he wasn't. With the power back on, he had less of an excuse to hold Maddy, less of a reason to huddle close beside her under piles of blankets. Less justification for the wandering of his thoughts. With power and heat, there was no need for them to share the sofa in front of the fireplace. Not when he had perfectly good beds in other rooms. But after two nights of sleeping on the sofa bed with her, he'd gained a certain fondness for that lumpy, uncomfortable mattress.

“I've made us lunch,” Maddy announced.

He found it difficult to look at her, difficult to keep from wanting her again. She wore his clothes, and although they hung loose on her, he'd never seen a woman more beautiful. Even without makeup and a curling iron and the other paraphernalia women used, she was so damned pretty it was all he could do to hide her effect on him.

She'd heated soup and fixed sandwiches for lunch and had set them on the table when he joined her in the kitchen.

“Tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwiches is one of my favorite lunches,” she told him as she unfolded the paper napkin.

Jeb would have savored a meal of roasted feathers if it meant he could share it with Maddy. “Right after lunch I have to check the herd,” he said, more gruffly than he'd intended.

“How long will that take?” she asked, automatically glancing outside.

It was still snowing, but the blizzard was winding down, the wind less fierce, the snow less thick. Soon—probably tomorrow—she'd be able to return to Buffalo Valley. He knew it, and she did, too.

“I'll be gone most of the afternoon.”

Maddy nodded. “You'll be back before dark?”

“That's my plan.”

She seemed to relax then. “I'll be waiting for you,” she murmured.

He carried those words with him as he struggled against the cold and the snow, slowly forging his way toward the herd. The bison had enough feed to last another day; he'd made sure of that as soon as the blizzard was forecast. It wasn't necessary to take them additional hay. Bison had survived for centuries in storms far worse than these.

The truth was, he needed an excuse to get out of the house, to think about the events of the past two days. More importantly, the events of the past two nights. He'd been attracted to Maddy from the beginning but had no idea of his true feelings until he'd almost lost her.

The first time they'd made love, it'd been an act of spontaneity, of thankfulness for having found each other in the storm. Their lovemaking had been a celebration of life, and, on his part, a response to cheating death again. They'd both been caught up in the moment, the circumstances, their gratitude.

While Jeb could excuse having unprotected sex the first time, he couldn't the second. Maddy had been in his arms, warm and willing, loving and generous. The moment he'd inadvertently touched her breast he'd been lost. But it wouldn't happen again; he swore it.

What they'd done was there whenever he looked at Maddy, which he did every single moment, unable to stop himself. For that reason alone, it was necessary to get out of the house for a while. He couldn't think about her and their situation objectively with her presence constantly distracting him.

As he'd known, his herd had enough feed, but he unloaded what he'd brought. He stayed as long as he dared, then returned to the house, just as the last light of day disappeared. The snow had just about stopped. Come morning, Jeb would tow Maddy's Bronco out of the ditch, fill her tank with gas, then lead her back into town.

Come morning, he'd learn to live without her.

The minute he pulled into the yard, the back door flew open and Maddy stood there. He half suspected she'd fly into his arms, would have enjoyed it if she had, but she hesitated, waiting for some signal from him.

All it took was a smile. With her own beautiful smile lighting up her face, she ran toward him. He caught her, and a second later they were sharing deep, probing kisses that left Jeb questioning his sanity.

With her arm around his waist, she steered him back toward the house. “I've been busy while you were away.”

He waited for her to continue.

“First, I discovered the phone is working again and I called the store. I found out that the Loomis twins filled in for me beautifully.”

Jeb knew she'd been worried about people needing supplies and the store being closed. But he dreaded what was coming next. These few days were a haven, a time out of time, and by making contact with the outside world, she'd invited it into their private paradise. He'd had these days and nights with her and was selfish enough not to want to share her with anyone else. All they had left together was one short night.

“Did you talk to Sarah?” he asked. He knew his sister would be wild with curiosity about these past few days at the ranch. He didn't know what he'd tell her. Nothing, he decided. What had happened belonged to him and Maddy.

“Sarah? No…” Maddy glanced at him, then looked away. “She phoned, but I let the answering machine take the message. Lindsay phoned, too, and your father. I didn't take any of the calls.”

So she felt the same way he did. The world would intrude soon enough. She wasn't any more eager than he was to return to it.

“I baked cookies,” she said, sounding absolutely delighted with herself. “When I stopped at the Clemens ranch on Thursday, Sadie was baking chocolate chip cookies and they smelled heavenly.”

“Chocolate chip is my favorite,” he commented as they headed back toward the house.

“You didn't have any chips, so I'm sincerely hoping you like peanut butter.”

“I love peanut butter cookies,” he assured her, and then because he couldn't resist, he brought her into his arms and kissed her again.

When he walked into the kitchen, he noticed all kinds of delicious aromas—not just cookies. There appeared to be a roast in the oven and the counter was littered with salad fixings.

“I'm feeling very domestic this afternoon,” she told him, resuming her task. Before he could protest, she fed him a thin slice of tomato.

“I can see we're going to eat better than we did last night,” he joked.

Maddy smiled at that, and Jeb had to force himself to look elsewhere, fearing he could get lost in one of her smiles. The night before, they'd only been interested in each other. After the second episode of lovemaking, they'd popped corn over an open fire—which constituted dinner. Between kisses and giggles they'd fed each other kernels and then they'd slept. All night he'd held her in his arms.

While Jeb showered and changed into fresh clothes, Maddy put dinner on the table. He complimented Maddy on her cooking, and she blushed with pleasure, her smile bright enough to rival the moon's reflection on the newly fallen snow.

“In the morning,” he said, determined to face the future, “I'll—”

“Let's not talk about morning,” Maddy said, her hand on his arm. “We both know I have to go back…I wish I could stay…wish we could hide from the world forever, but that isn't possible.”

“All right.” Jeb was willing to agree. He didn't want to think beyond these next few hours, either.

Even though it was only midevening and there was both power and heat, Maddy showered and readied for bed. Jeb hadn't purposely gone to bed before eight o'clock since he was in elementary school, but tonight he was eager. He'd made a decision. The hell with those other bedrooms and other beds, they were sleeping where they had the previous two nights.

While Maddy was in the bathroom, he unfolded the sofa bed and turned off all the lights. He wanted to spend the night in her arms but because they were without protection, he planned to avoid sex. A fire burned steadily in the fireplace, throwing a soft light over everything.

She wore one of his shirts and a pair of his socks, her long legs bare and enticing. Her blond hair was a mass of curls and he swore he'd never seen any woman look more angelic than she did right at that moment.

“I'm glad you made the bed in here,” she told him as she slipped under the blankets, joining him.

Jeb had removed his prosthesis, not wanting her to watch or even know what he was doing. He treasured the fact that she'd been thoughtful enough to realize that sleeping with it was uncomfortable, and had urged him to take it off. Her understanding, her kindness, had weakened his resolve to the point that he'd made love to her. He hadn't been able to stop himself….

As soon as she was in the bed, Maddy slid closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

“I'm glad you're here,” he whispered and kissed her hair. Her damp curls tickled his nose and he grinned, determined to spend their last night doing nothing more than holding her. He didn't want to confuse these remaining hours with desire; he wanted to experience the peace, the quiet contentment he felt only with her. The passion was wonderful, their being together undoubtedly the best sex of his life—the only sex since his accident, for that matter. But there was so much more.

“I'm glad I'm here, too,” she said, and her voice caught as if she was struggling not to cry.

“Maddy?” Tears unnerved him. He didn't know how to respond to a woman in tears. No matter what the cause, he always felt obligated to do
something.