"Only until I knew for sure."
Boone picked up his duffel bag and the pile of bedding. He jerked the door open and looked back.
"What other secrets do you plan to keep from me? Any other decisions you plan to make on my behalf? How much more are you going to tear up my life before you walk away?"
Maddie would have answered, if she'd had any idea what to say.
But she would have been talking to an empty room.
* * *
Boone punched down his pillow one more time and rolled over, looking for a spot that felt right. He'd brought a bedroll, so the hay wasn't the problem, he knew.
His problem was trapped inside his skin.
A sister. Half-sister. His mother's child, with a man he'd grown up believing a murderer.
Maddie, why the hell couldn't you leave it alone?
But he knew why—she had no family. She hadn't enjoyed the benefit of knowing where she belonged as he had. Right or wrong, despite all the harm Sam had done after Boone's mother had died, Boone had grown up with a sense of place, had known his roots. He'd grown up with a grandfather who had taken him fishing and let him smoke his first—and only—cigarette. He'd known a sense of community. Maddie had been moved around all her life.
But thinking about his mother having a child with another man didn't go down easy. She had often said how much she wished for a girl, but Boone and Mitch had taken it as teasing. All those years, had she longed for a daughter she'd had to give up?
A sister. Boone had been thinking of her as a baby, yet he realized with a shock that she would be older than either him or Mitch. Would she have his mother's blonde hair? His own blue eyes or the gray eyes that Maddie said she'd inherited from her father?
Would she want to be found? It would break Maddie's heart if she didn't, if she turned away. No matter how the news had rocked Boone's memories of his mother, how much a part of him wished he'd never forced Maddie to answer, another part of him wanted to step in and protect her from this woman's potential to hurt her.
She would be devastated if this sister denied the connection. Boone pictured the look on Maddie's face when she'd told him that she had to know.
While part of him wanted all of this to go away, another part of him realized he had cause to rejoice.
If this sister were real, he and Maddie would have a connection for as long as they lived. Not that she might welcome it, after how he'd taken her news.
Nor did he want to think about a lifetime of crossing paths with Maddie and some other man. Or having to hear about Maddie bearing some other man's children.
But there wasn't another man yet. At that moment, Boone let himself feel the full impact of Maddie's insistence that there was nothing between her and Marlowe, and his spirits soared. She hadn't been having an affair behind his back. For a few seconds, he let himself feel a fierce spurt of hope.
Then he remembered how rough he'd been tonight. Maddie forgave easily, but where did her tolerance end?
And how could he claim it, yet again?
He had to try. Rising from his makeshift bed, he pulled on his boots, then realized that it was well after midnight. Not a good time to go begging, hat in hand.
Even if Maddie forgave easily again—not that he'd earned it—she deserved her rest.
There would be no sleep for him, however. Dancer snorted restlessly in her stall. Might as well go check on her, since he couldn't sleep, anyway.
* * *
At two in the morning, Maddie gave up on sleep and headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water. Through the window she saw a light on in the barn. Maybe Boone couldn't sleep, either. Little wonder.
She'd handled it wrong. She'd known all along that the news of this sister would be rough for Boone to swallow. What she hadn't realized was that the stories Vondell and Jim had withheld revolved around Boone's unfaithful wife.
Maddie had known that the woman named Helen had hated it here, but never once had anyone told her that she'd cheated on Boone. No wonder he'd been upset about the whispered phone calls, the times when she'd made an excuse and driven into town.
She'd really botched it, the whole business. Boone was right—she was making decisions for him as though he couldn't make his own. With good intentions, sure, but Maddie kept hearing his voice in her head.
Why are you doing this? You're leaving
.
What right did she have, really, to dig up old secrets when they impacted him as much as her? He was right. She had no place here, but everything she did left a mark on him, too.
I have to know
. And she did. If there was a chance in the world that she had a sister out there somewhere, Maddie would scour the ends of the earth looking for her.
That didn't mean, however, that she could continue to forge ahead without talking to Boone. She owed him an apology. Maybe now was as good a time as any. If that light in the barn didn't mean he was awake, she'd turn right around and come back.
But maybe, just maybe, she could settle things down and let each of them get some sleep.
So Maddie ran upstairs and threw on jeans and a shirt, not even bothering with underwear or socks. Then she ran to the barn, grateful for the moonlight that paved her way.
When she walked inside, she heard his voice, talking soft and low. She headed in that direction, stopping only long enough to pat Fancy's head. Fancy nickered to her, and Boone stepped out in the aisle at the noise.
"Hi," Maddie said, throat tight.
"Hi," Boone answered. "Can't sleep?"
She shook her head. "You?"
He gestured with a nod toward the stall. "Full moon tonight. I'm betting Dancer goes into labor."
Silence ensued. Maddie dug one toe in the dirt as she searched for words. "I'm sorry I did a bad job of delivering the news. I never wanted to hurt you. It's clear how much you loved your mother."
Boone shrugged. "There's no easy way to say something like that. I didn't handle it well. I just—I don't know how to feel about that. The woman I knew wanted a dozen children."
"In those days, she was bound to feel she had no choice. If you weren't married, you gave your child up or had a back street abortion. I can't imagine your mother doing that."
Boone shook his head. "No, she would never end a child's life." He stared hard at Maddie. "And it wasn't fair for me to blame your father. You're probably right. Maybe he never knew."
"My grandmother's diary said she left town for seven months before she came back and married your father a few months later."
"Just long enough." Boone shook his head. "I can't imagine that my father had any idea."
"Do you remember the part of his letter that said that there was always a sadness in Jenny?"
Boone nodded.
"Maybe it wasn't losing my father, as Sam thought. Maybe it was the baby." She saw a shadow cross his face. "What is it?"
"Nothing." He shook his head, then suddenly he stopped. "No. That's not true. I accused you of holding back secrets, but I've held back my own."
"You have a right to your secrets. We all do."
Boone studied her, then seemed to make up his mind. "My wife was pregnant when she died with her lover in a sailing accident. She never even told me about the baby. I didn't learn about it until she was gone, when her mother announced it to me after the funeral." The shadow fell across his rugged features again. "I don't know why it hits me so hard. I never knew that child, never held it in my hands. But it still hurts." He looked up. "How much more painful was it for my mother to bear a child and have to give her up?"
Oh, Boone
... "I'm so sorry. You would have been a wonderful father."
"I've done a lot of things wrong in my life, but I sure would have tried."
Tears welled in Maddie's eyes, tears for children lost and children unborn, for this son who had lost his father the day his mother died. Tears for a missing brother, a lost sister. So many tears needed, and so little she could do.
"Don't cry, Maddie."
She swiped at her cheeks. "Sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for. You have a tender heart." Then Boone's arms surrounded her and held her close. Maddie nestled into his embrace and knew a moment of such piercing longing that she could barely breathe.
No words passed between them, but words weren't needed. Too often, words had driven them apart.
Maddie slid her arms around Boone's wide chest and clung. Then the need for comfort melted like candle wax under the heat of a desire too long denied.
She lifted her head and saw her yearning mirrored in his eyes. "Boone..."
"God, Maddie...I don't want to fight this any longer."
"Then don't," she murmured.
Still he hesitated, so she took the leap for both of them and rose to her toes. Touched her mouth to his.
His caution burned to cinders.
They tumbled into the landscape of their dreams, the forbidden territory they'd skirted for long days and endless nights. Every shadow that separated them faded under the bright glow of one heart's need for another.
Her eager hands joined her eager heart, and she welcomed Boone to all she had, all she was.
Boone thought his own heart would burst as he deepened the kiss, as Maddie's fingers clutched at his back. Body to body, Maddie's curves fit him like a second skin.
He craved to drive into her sweet flesh and lose himself. Grasping for control, he sank his fingers into the heavy silk of her hair. The other hand gripped the tender curve of her hip. When Maddie moaned, he slid his teeth down the long, slender column of her throat, longing to brand her, to mark every inch of her skin. At the tender juncture where pale throat met shoulder, Boone used his mouth to seal Maddie as his.
His
. Boone didn't stop to think, to reason out how or why he would make it so.
He simply wanted her, body and soul.
Maddie thrilled at the passion of Boone's strong grip, his fierce possession. She met his hunger, measure for measure.
Boone growled low in his throat, and Maddie smiled. She wanted him crazy, too crazy to think, too far gone to be noble.
They were past the time for noble sacrifices, past the point of logic. Now was the moment, the sacred space for heart to meet body, for flesh to find flesh in naked, greedy hunger. Maddie wanted her hands on Boone, on his bare skin, on the body she'd dreamed of night after lonely night.
With a small cry of desperation, she pulled away to tear at his shirt. While Boone did wicked things to her with lips and teeth and tongue, her fingers fumbled on buttons she could not see. Finally, she wrestled his shirt open, sacrificing a button or two, but she had to touch him—now.
Then she laid her palms on his broad, muscled chest. Both of them gasped. Boone glanced down at her pale hands spread across his golden skin.
Then he smiled, slow and wicked. "My turn."
Maddie licked her lips and scraped her nails lightly across his flesh.
Boone's nostrils flared as he focused on the buttons of her shirt, his fingers turning clumsy in their haste.
Maddie leaned forward and licked a slow stroke across his chest, swirling her tongue around one nipple.
He swore and gripped her shoulders, eyes scorching hot. "I said, my turn." But he smiled as she'd never seen him, a smile so rich with seductive promise that the air vanished from Maddie's lungs.
Boone's own breath seized as he watched her eyes spark in challenge. Then she laughed, that sultry chuckle that had never failed to hit him right in the gut. Her smile dared him to push the edge, to test the borders. Maddie was so valiant with her heart, so unafraid of her passion.
And he was so hard he hurt.
But he was not going to rush this, no matter how his body demanded release, no matter that his insides had turned to pure fire at her touch.
That mouth of hers, that sassy, sexy mouth. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never get enough of Maddie's mouth.
With one last jerk, he sent her buttons flying without apology. "Too many damn buttons," he muttered.
And then fell silent.
"No bra?" he croaked.
Maddie's smile could make a man weep. "No panties, either."
Boone closed his eyes and implored the heavens.
Then Maddie laughed, and Boone was done with patience. He swept her into his arms and bore her away to his makeshift bed. "Better say no now, Maddie. I've waited for you too long."
Maddie mimed a zipper across her lips, then grasped his head between her hands and kissed him. Flames danced from one nerve ending to the next.
"You and that kissable damn mouth," he muttered. Then his mouth came down on hers.
When he laid her on the bedroll still scented from his body, the hay perfuming the air around them, Maddie thought there could be no more perfect place. The bedroll provided protection from stray stalks of hay, and they were far away from the house and all its memories of sorrow.
Then Maddie thought no more, as Boone's naked chest loomed over her, acres of muscles gained not from a pricey gym but from hard work and honest labor, lightly dusted with golden hair shades darker than that on his head. His belly was hard and ridged, his waist and hips narrow. Her gaze traveled down the fine line of hair on his belly to the blatant evidence of Boone's desire for her.
Never before had anyone wanted her this badly. Never before had anyone brought such raw power to the act of love.
Boone's fingers unsnapped her jeans with one flick, then drew her zipper down slowly. With his tongue, he scorched a trail down her throat, flicking it lightly over the shadowed valley between her breasts, then sliding around the curve of her breast, barely missing her nipple.
Maddie arched toward him, her body pleading to feel him suckle her. She wanted his touch on her, every inch. Urgent fingers gripped his shoulders as he hovered above her breast, waiting. Taunting.
Then Boone retreated, and Maddie wanted to scream.
Until she felt his tongue inside her zipper. Inch by inch, he lowered the tab, sliding one finger beneath to protect tender flesh.