Lacy (47 page)

"Katy," he whispered in torment.

She kicked away the covers. The room was cool,
but she was burning, her skin almost feverish as she lay back, trembling
helplessly.

"Whatever you do will be all right,"
she said in a voice that was too strained to be hers. She moved gently, so that
her body positioned itself to receive him. Her lips lifted in sensual
invitation.

He groaned, his body sliding down over hers in
helpless response, his feverish mouth finding hers even as his hands slid under
her thighs and lifted her to the involuntary downward thrust of his body.

"Katy.. .forgive me!"he ground out
against her lips as he went into her with one quick, fierce thrust.

She made a sound he'd never heard, and her body
stiffened and went very still.

He paused, shuddering above her, his eyes on her
face. "Is it hurting?" he began urgently.

But even as the words escaped his tight throat,
her body began to convulse. She clutched at his hips, sobbing.

"Help me," she whimpered. "Turk,
please, please, help me!"

He realized belatedly what was happening to her.
He smoothed back her damp hair and his hips began to move with quick, measured
smoothness that brought her to completion in a matter of seconds. She was still
clinging to him and crying as the first wave hit him and turned the world to a
throbbing red blur.

A few seconds later, the room came back into
blinding focus. He'd all but lost consciousness in the fullness of his
pleasure. His heart was pounding and he was trembling, sweating in the
aftermath. Under him, Katy's soft body was fluid, warm, clinging to his with
tenderness.

He nuzzled his face into her throat and finally
found enough strength to lift his head. Her eyes were misty, half-closed, her
mouth swollen. She reached up and touched his face with fingers that adored it.

"It was too quick," he said huskily.

Her head moved sideways on the pillow. "Not
really." She wrapped her soft legs around his when he started to lift away
from her, and her arms slid over his broad shoulders. "No," she
whispered. She held his eyes and her hips lifted.

"I can't," he said softly. "Not
yet."

"Can't you?" She rubbed her lips
tenderly over his and suddenly slid her hand down the center of his body to its
core and touched him.

He groaned harshly and his body jerked, going
sharply rigid. He looked into her eyes with stark shock.

"I love you," she said. Her face was
radiant with it, like her supple body in his arms as she began to lift up to
him. "Let me show you.. .how much!"

His hands stabbed into her thick hair and arched
her head up to his. He held it while he moved, lazily this time, ardently, with
techniques he'd never shown her before. Some of the things he did shocked her.
All of them aroused her to a pitch she'd never achieved. When he finally gave
her the satisfaction she was reduced to begging for, she cried out and fainted.

"Did you think you could match me?" he
asked later, smiling lazily into her drowsy eyes while he smoked a cigarette.
"You're just a babe in the woods, child."

She smoothed the thick hair on his chest with an
idle hand while she studied him. "Were there a lot of women?"

"Yes," he said, without guilt or
embarrassment. "Before I married, and after I was widowed. It never meant
more than satisfying an ache. Except with my wife." He looked down at her.
"And with you. I won't cheat on you, if you're worried about it. I don't
take vows lightly."

"I know." She gnawed her lower lip.

"What's wrong?"

Her shoulders lifted and fell nervously.
"What happened that last time
...
It was frightening."

"Something that profound should be,"
he said quietly. "Making love is an act of creation," he added, his
eyes soft and possessive on her body. "A joining of bodies and souls in
utter reverence. I've made light of it all these years, but when I do it with
you, I feel as if I've touched heaven."

She moved involuntarily. "I didn't think
about a baby."

He kissed her eyes, his tongue softly stroking
her thick lashes. "I did."

She smiled. "Will you mind?"

He chuckled. "No." He pressed a hard kiss
on her lips. "If you're pregnant, you can't leave me." "I won't,
anyway."

He was satisfied about that, and about her
devotion to him. He spared a faint thought of sympathy for Wardell, who would
never have Katy's love or her children. He could afford to be generous. All the
same, he was glad Chicago was so far away. He drew Katy close and put out his
cigarette.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ben
waited impatiently at
Grand Central Station for his train to Texas. It had been six months since he'd
finished his book, and it was already on the book stands. He'd been living in New York while he read and corrected galleys, so excited about the idea of actually having
a book in print that he didn't even mind the sweeping revisions his editor had
suggested. It was a dream come true. Even if he wasn't a literary lion yet, he
was at least a published author. He had time on his side. If it took years to
build a reputation, he had them.

With his advance against royalties in his
pocket, he was finally secure enough to go home and face his family. He'd
written over the long months, and Cole had finally taken pity on him after
Christmas. Marion Whitehall had surprised everyone by rallying against the
doctor's prognosis. She grew stronger by the day. Katy andTurk had married, a
bit of news that Ben still had trouble digesting. They were certainly an odd
match. But, then, love was strange. What puzzled him was the postscript saying
that Cole had raised a loan to save the ranch from foreclosure. He felt guilty,
because it had never occurred to him that Cole was having financial trouble.
He'd been much too wrapped up in his own problems to think about Cole's;
disquieting, when Cole was responsible for so many people, including his
mother. Well, he was back now, and he was going to help. Cole was speaking to
him, at least, so perhaps he wouldn't be thrown off the porch when he arrived.

Spanish Flats was prospering. Ben noticed the
new paint on the house and the new fences with barbed wire strung neatly
between them to keep Cole's huge herds of cattle in. The car he'd hitched a
ride in was an old open-cabbed one, like Marion's runabout without the top, and
he was getting his expensive light suit dusty, but he didn't really mind.
Summer had come, and the landscape was green and lush this year, since adequate
rainfall had given it a boost.

Marion
was not only still
alive, despite the dire predictions of the year before, she was more alive than
Ben had seen her in years.

She ran onto the porch to hug him, tears in her
eyes as she held him before her and looked at him with pride.

"You've grown up, haven't you, my
dear?" she asked.

"It was inevitable, although I'm sure you
wondered if it would ever happen," Ben said gently. He looked around.
"Is Cole home?"

"He and Lacy are out at the barn, looking
at Cole's new Santa Gertrudis bull. Why don't you go out and surprise them
while I lay the table? You must be starved!"

"I am, indeed. I'll catch you up on all the
news when we come in. Are you all right?" he added worriedly.

"I'm doing unexpectedly well, and keeping
the doctor in knots," she said smugly. "My heart is stronger than
ever. He calls me a walking miracle."

"You always were, though," he replied,
bending to kiss her cheek.

He found Cole and Lacy staring over the gate
into a large stall in the barn, where a huge red-coated bull was stuffing
himself on corn and oats and molasses.

"Hail the conquering hero!" Lacy
laughed, then opened her arms.

Ben hugged her, savoring her warm scent for
seconds before he forced himself to let her go. Lacy was the only dream he
wouldn't realize, he reminded himself. Fame and fortune would surely come his
way with hard work, but Lacy was forever Cole's.

He shook hands with his brother. "How goes
it?"

Cole smiled. "Very well, as you see. The
latest addition to my breeding herd. Handsome brute, isn't he?"

"For something with four legs, I suppose
so. How are you both?" he asked, because something was very different
here. They were standing close together, and when they looked at each other,
Ben felt like an intruder into their private world. Whatever they'd felt for
each other when they married, it was love now. A blind man couldn't have
mistaken it for anything else.

"We're fine," Cole said, smiling down at
Lacy. "Better by the day."

"Oh, yes." she said, grinning. She
slid her arm around Cole's slim waist and sighed as she snuggled against his
chest. He drew her close, kissing her dark hair.

Yes, Ben thought, this was a marriage he'd envy
until he died. And to think he'd brought it about!

"You said that Katy and Turk had
married?" he asked, diverting his mind from Lacy.

"It's much more serious than that,"
Lacy laughed. "Katy is pregnant! Turk is driving us all up the walls
worrying about her. Last week she mentioned that she wanted some ice cream, and
he drove all the way to San Antonio and brought it back in an old ice chest.
She said she doesn't dare say she wants dates; Turk would probably fly to Arabia to get her some!"

"I suppose she's over that mobster she
married?" Ben asked probingly.

"Well over," Cole replied. "He
was on drugs. His death was tragic, but he was beating Katy. I didn't mourn
him." Ben grimaced. "Poor Katy."

"She's fine, now. You can see for yourself
when she and Turk get back from her doctor's appointment."

"And Faye?" Ben asked, looking at the
bull as he asked the question, trying not to sound too concerned.

"Faye is due any day," Lacy told him.
"She only works a few hours a day now."

Ben's hands tightened on the gate. "She
won't answer my letters. I know she can't read and write, but she could get
someone."

"Yes, she can read and write, Ben,"
Lacy said, correcting him. "Cousin Ruby taught her. She's quite a
different girl these days. She's even being tutored in English."

Ben was shocked. "Our Faye?"

"Our Faye. You'd be very proud of the
strides she's made," Cole replied. "She's quite sought after in San Antonio, despite her condition," he added, with only a bare concession to the
truth, to draw Ben out. Sure enough, the younger man looked suddenly
thunderous.

"I thought I might try to see her
tomorrow."

"Good idea," Cole agreed.

"You said in your last letter that you'd
sold your book," Lacy said. "Congratulations!"

"I've had to do a lot of revisions, but
that's something a writer expects." Ben replied, smiling with helpless
pride. He glanced at Cole. "I wasn't certain of my welcome, after what
happened. I do regret it, Cole. I suppose I had my nose too far in the clouds
to realize how callous I'd become."

"It was more your publisher's daughter than
you," Lacy said. "And I was worried that you might not forgive me for
closing him down, but I was furious at the way Jessica treated poor little
Faye."

"Yes," Ben said. "You don't need
to apologize for anything to me, Lacy. I was so infatuated with Jessica that it
took that night to open my eyes. She was ice cold and calculating. I didn't
even suspect that I was being used. I should have known when old man Bradley
refused to talk about hiring additional staff. He didn't need it, did he, when
I was doing everything from writing the stories to selling advertising!"

"Your name was his most valuable
tool," Lacy said quietly. "Perhaps you didn't realize that San Antonio is only a small town that grew. My great-uncle was well known, and most people
knew my background. When I married Cole, that was common knowledge, too. The Whitehall name carries a great deal of weight in San Antonio, as well, and not because of
me." She looked up at Cole adoringly. "Cole's word is his bond. The
strength of it would have opened any doors you cared to try."