Montana Sky (21 page)

Surprised, interested, she grinned. “My, my, round two already?”

“Just hold on, honey.” He ran his hands up and over her, pleased when she trembled. “And hold on tight.”

It didn't take long for her to take the warning seriously.

T
HE TEMPERATURE ROSE ON NEW YEAR
'
S EVE
.
ONE OF EL
Niño's wild weather patterns that make sense only to God brought bright blue skies, sunlight, and warm air. Though it would mean mud and slop—and ice when the wind blew capriciously again—it was a moment to be enjoyed.

Willa rode fences in a light denim jacket, whistling as she made repairs. The mountains were snowcapped, the white lacing deep in the folds and waves. The chinook had teased patches of ground and grass through the white in pastures, while the snowpack along the ranch roads was still higher than a rig. But the cottonwoods had lost their ermine trim and stood bare and black with wet while the pines rose sassily green.

She thought it was Lily's simple happiness that was influencing her mood. The woman's holiday mood was still in high gear, and only a true grinch could have resisted it.

Why else, Willa thought, had she agreed to Lily's hesitant request for a New Year's Eve party? All those people in the house, Willa mused, having to dress up, make conversation. With everything else on her mind, it should have been a misery.

But she could admit, at least to herself, that she was looking forward to it.

Even now, Lily and Bess and Nell were huddled in the kitchen creating the feast. The house had been scrubbed raw and polished blind, and Willa had orders to be bathed and dressed by eight sharp. She would do it, Willa realized, for Lily.

Somehow over the months she'd fallen in love with the stranger who had become her sister.

Who wouldn't? she asked herself as she mounted Moon and rode on. Lily was sweet and kind and patient. And vulnerable. No matter how hard she'd tried to maintain a distance between them, they had grown closer and closer until now she couldn't imagine Mercy without Lily's touch.

Lily liked to gather twigs, stick them in old bottles. And somehow she made them look cheerful and charming. She hunted up old bowls out of cupboards, filled them with fruit, or dumped pinecones into straw baskets. She snuck plants out of the pool house and scattered them through the rooms.

When no one complained, she'd foraged for more, digging candlesticks out of closets, buying scented candles and lighting them in the evening so that the house smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and lord knew what else.

But it was pleasant. It was, Willa decided, homey.

And anyone with eyes could see that Adam was in love with her. A little afraid of that vulnerability Lily carried around, Willa mused, but quietly in love. It could work, she supposed, with time and care. She doubted that Lily realized just how deep Adam's feelings went. As far as Willa could see, Lily thought he was being kind.

Dismounting, she began to repair more broken wire.

Then there was Tess. Willa couldn't claim to be in love with Miss Hollywood, but she might have become slightly less resentful. For the most part, Tess stayed out of her way, closeting herself for several hours a day with her writing or phone calls to her agent. She did the chores assigned to her. Not cheerfully, and not often well, but she did them.

Willa was fully aware of what was going on between Tess and Nate. She just didn't choose to dwell on it. That, she
concluded, would never work. The minute the time was up, Tess would be on a flight back to LA and would never give Nate another thought.

She only hoped he was prepared for it.

And what about you, Will? she wondered. Leaning on a fence post, she looked up into the mountains, wished for a moment that she could mount Moon and ride off, up and up until she lost herself in snow and trees and sky. The quiet that was there. The utter peace of it, the music of water thawing and forcing its way through ice, over rocks, the sweep of wind through pine, and that glorious scent that was the land just breathing.

No responsibilities, just for a day. No men to order, no fence to ride, no cattle to feed. Just a day to do nothing but stare at the sky and dream.

Of what? she asked herself, and shook her head. With all the love and longing, the sex and snapping air around her, would she dream of that? Would she indulge herself in a little fantasy about what it would be like to let Ben show her what a man could do to a woman? And for her?

Or would she dream of blood and death, of failure and guilt? Would she ride into those hills and find something, or someone else, slaughtered because she'd let down her guard?

She couldn't take the chance.

Turning back to Moon, she laid a hand over her rifle, sighed once, then mounted.

She saw the rider and hoped it was Ben galloping toward her, with Charlie running by his side. And it shamed her that she was disappointed, even for an instant, that it was Adam.

How beautiful he is, she thought. And how sturdy.

“Don't see you riding alone much these days,” she called out.

He grinned, reining in. “God, what a day!” He drew a deep breath of it, lifting his face to the sky. “Lily's party planning, and she's rooked Tess into it.”

“So you settled for me.” She watched his face, laughed at his stunned and guilty expression. “I'm only teasing,
Adam. And even though I know it's no hardship on you, I'm grateful you're keeping an eye on them.”

“Lily's put it out of her mind. All of it.” He turned his mount to ride alongside Willa. “I imagine it's how she dealt with her marriage. I don't know if it's healthy, but it seems to give her peace of mind.”

“She's happy here. You make her happy.”

He understood that Willa would know his deepest feelings. She always did. “She needs time yet, to feel safe. To trust that I can want her and not hurt her because of it.”

“Has she told you anything about her ex-husband?”

“Bits and pieces.” Adam shrugged his shoulders restlessly. He wanted more, he wanted all of it. And it was difficult to wait. “She was teaching when she met him, and they got married very quickly. It was a mistake. She says little more than that. But inside, she's still afraid. If I move too quickly, turn abruptly, she jumps. It breaks my heart.”

It would, she thought. The wounded always broke his heart. “I've seen her change in the short time she's been here. Been with you. She smiles more. Talks more.”

He angled his head. “You've grown fond of her.”

“Some.”

He smiled. “And the other one. Tess?”

“ ‘Fond' isn't the word I'd use,” she said dryly. “I'm working on ‘tolerate.' ”

“She's a strong woman, smart, focused. More like you than Lily.”

“Please, don't insult me.”

“She is. She confronts things, makes them work for her. She hasn't your sense of duty, and perhaps her heart isn't as soft, but she has both duty and heart. I like her very much.”

Her brow knit as she turned to look at him. “Do you really?”

“Yes. When I was teaching her to ride, she fell off, several times. She would get up, brush off her jeans, and climb right back on.” With a look on her face, he remembered, that was the mirror of the one Willa wore when she was fighting to conquer a new problem. “That takes courage and
determination. And pride. She makes Lily laugh. She makes me laugh. And I'll tell you something she doesn't know.”

“Secrets?” Grinning, Willa nudged her horse closer to his, dropping her voice, though there was no one for miles. The sun was easing down toward the western peaks, softening the light. “Tell all.”

“She's fallen for the horses. She doesn't know it, or isn't ready to admit it, but I see it. The way she touches them, talks to them, sneaks them sugar when she thinks I don't see.”

Willa pursed her lips. “We'll be into foaling season soon. Let's see how well she likes birthing.”

“I think she'll do well. And she admires you.”

“Bullshit.”

“You aren't ready to see that, but I do.” He squinted, gauged the distance back home. “Race you to the barn.”

“You're on.” With a whoop, she kicked Moon into action and hustled back at a dead run.

 

S
HE WALKED INTO THE HOUSE WITH COLOR IN HER
cheeks and a gleam in her eye. No one beat Adam on horseback, but she'd come close. Damn close, and it had lifted her mood—which plummeted immediately when Tess came down the stairs.

“There you are. Upstairs, Annie Oakley. Party time, and your eau de sweat won't do for tonight.”

“I've got two hours.”

“Which may be barely enough time to transform you into something resembling a female. Hit the showers.”

She'd intended to do just that, but now her back was up. “I've got some paperwork.”

“Oh, you can't.” Lily came up behind her, hands fluttering. “It's already six.”

“So? Nobody's coming that I need to impress.”

“Nobody's coming you need to offend either.” With a sigh, Tess took her arm and began to haul her up the stairs.

“Hey!”

“Come on, Lily. This is going to take both of us.”

Biting her lip, Lily took Willa's other arm. “It's going to
be so nice, really it is, to see people. You've been working so hard. Tess and I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Then take your damn hands off me.” She dislodged Lily easily enough, but Tess tightened her grip and steered Willa into the bedroom. “Five more seconds, and I deck you if you don't—” She broke off, staring at the dress laid out on the bed.

“What the hell is that?”

“I went through your closet, and as there's nothing in it remotely resembling party wear—”

“Hold on.” This time Willa jerked free, spun around. “You went through my clothes?”

“I didn't see anything in there to be proprietary about. In fact, I thought I'd stumbled into the rag bin, but Bess assured me it was indeed your wardrobe.”

Though her palms had gone damp, Lily stepped between them. “We altered one of Tess's dresses for you.”

“Hers?” With a sneer, Willa looked Tess up and down. “You'd have had to lose half the material to make that work.”

“True enough,” Tess shot back. “And all in the bust. But it turns out that Bess is very clever with a needle. It's possible that even with your toothpick legs and flat chest you might look oddly attractive in it.”

“Tess.” Lily hissed the word and nudged her older sister aside. “It's a beautiful color, don't you think? You'd look so dramatic in jewel tones, and this shade of blue is just made for you. It was so generous of Tess to let it be altered for you.”

“I never really cared for it,” Tess said carelessly. “One of those little fashion mistakes.”

Lily closed her eyes briefly and prayed for peace. “I know I'm putting you to a lot of trouble with this party, Will. I appreciate so much that you'd let me plan it, and all but take over the house the last couple of days. I know it's an inconvenience for you.”

Done in, Willa dragged a hand through her hair. “I don't know who's better at getting to me, but the hell with it. Just get out, both of you. I can manage to shower and put on
some stupid hand-me-down dress all by myself.”

Accepting victory, Tess took Lily's arm and urged her toward the door. “Wash your hair, champ.”

“Go to hell.” Willa kicked the door shut behind them.

 

S
HE FELT LIKE A FOOL
.
A FOOL WHO WOULD
undoubtedly freeze her ass off in this excuse for a dress before the evening was over. As she stood in front of her mirror, Willa tugged at the hem. That little action had the effect of moving it down close to an inch, while the low-cut neckline dipped distressingly in reaction, toward her navel.

Tits or ass, she thought, scratching her head—which did she want to cover more?

The dress did have sleeves, which was something. But they began at mid-shoulder, and nothing she tried seemed to convince them to settle a bit closer to her neck. Whatever the dress was made of was thin and soft and clung like a second skin.

Grudgingly she stepped into her heels and got a quick lesson in physics. As she went up, so did the hemline.

“Oh, screw it.” Stepping closer to the mirror, she decided she might as well go all out and use her miserly hoard of cosmetics. It was, after all, New Year's Eve.

And the dress, what there was of it, was a pretty color. Electric blue, she supposed. Maybe she didn't have much cleavage, despite the best efforts of that dipping, clinging V neck, but her shoulders weren't half bad. And damned if her legs were toothpicks. They were long, sure, but they were muscled, and the dark-toned panty hose she struggled into hid the couple of new bruises she'd discovered after her shower.

She refused to fuss with her hair. She wasn't any good with curls or complicated styles in any case, so she left it straight, spilling down her back. Which would at least keep the flesh warm that the plunge back bared.

She remembered earrings only because Adam had given them to her for Christmas, and she fixed the pretty dangling stars on her lobes.