The Cedar Tree (Love Is Not Enough) (18 page)

"A fool of yourself…?"

"I've thrown myself at you, Gil," she exclaimed. "I've made you do things you don't want to do."

He stared disbelievingly at her. "You've made me want to do things I shouldn't do, but if you call this throwin' yourself at me, I'll catch you every time."

With her fingers cold and trembling in his, she searched his eyes with an edge of desperation. 

"Katie, I'm scared for you. That's all." He held her face in his hands. "If I didn't care so much, I'd get in there with you right now and let the chips fall. Believe me." Suddenly apprehensive, he frowned. "What do you mean they talk and talk at you? And who's they?"

Her gaze wavered. "Lance's mom came over tonight and she and my folks turned loose on me. She's mad at me for hurting Lance, and Dad keeps bringing up your dad and when I ask him why, he won't tell me. He just says you'll end up like him."

His jaw tightened. "Katie—"

A branch snapped like a rifle shot outside the barn.

Her eyes widened with fright and he jumped, whirling toward the sound. He crossed to the barn door in a few long strides then stood motionless, straining to hear over the thundering of his heart.

A barn owl gave a soft 'hoo' from a tree branch, and the coyotes yapped near the muted gurgle of the creek, but no other sound disturbed the silence.

He strode back to the pickup. "We've got to get you home. If somebody finds out you're not in bed…" His words trailed away, full of real fear.

Shivering, she nodded, her eyes wide in the pale shape of her face.

"I'll ride Candy back to your barn and you take my truck," he said. "The moon's bright enough you can drive without the headlights. Leave it below the hill, just don't let 'em hear it from the house." For the first time, he wished the pipes weren't so loud.

Her teeth chattered. "My saddle's too small for you and if you get caught taking my horse home—"

"I'll be okay." He leaned in the window and kissed her. "Leave me somethin' in the tree in the mornin'?"

She nodded.

"We can't do this again." He held her face in his hands, his gaze intent on hers. "Okay?"

"Gil, we won't get to see each other except at church and it's not enough." She searched his eyes. "Is it?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "Geez. No." He paused. "I'll talk to your dad tomorrow. Maybe he'll let me come to the house."

"No," she said, her eyes wide with alarm. "He won't, I promise you."

"Maybe you should…" He hesitated. "Maybe you should pray about it."

"I do." She paused. "Don't you?"

"We'd be better off if you did it." He stepped away from the truck. "Don't forget to pen the dogs up."

Chapter Eleven

Sometime later, he rolled his truck, with its motor and headlights off, to a silent stop in his grandfather's driveway. Chief rose from his bed of dusty gunny sacks on the porch while he stepped out, easing shut the pickup door. The old dog licked his hand then padded through the shadows behind him to the kitchen door at the back of the house.

Inside, he pried off his boots and stood on one foot, kneading the painful stinging sensation in his toes from the cold ride on Candy. He grinned triumphantly. Katie had gotten back to her house undetected—the ranch yard and house had been dark and silent by the time he arrived there with her horse.

But that was nothing to the memory of her in his arms. Sweet, and beautiful, and amazing…kissing him…in love with him…

The whole thing exactly right for once in his life. Finally. He'd make everything work between them if he died trying…

He picked up his boots and carried them through the dark house, silent except for his grandfather's snores. As he reached the bottom stair, the old man coughed and rolled over in his bed.

He froze with one foot on the stair.

The house shifted on its foundation with a groan. Chief's arch-enemy, the skunk living under the bathroom floor, scrabbled around for a moment then fell into a listening silence.

Cautiously, he leaned back to peer into his grandfather's room. The dim mound on the bed didn't move. A moment later, snores resumed and he turned to work his way up the stairs, avoiding the ones that creaked.

If his grandfather woke, he'd never convince the old man he'd been out checking cows for three hours.

***

On Sunday, Katie entered church late with Karl and Tim. She slipped into her seat beside him with a strained smile. He gave her a questioning look from where he leaned with his elbows on his knees.

"Mom's having some problems," she whispered against his ear. "The midwives told her she had to stay in bed unless she wants to lose the baby. I'll have to go home right after church." She smiled.

The Sunday gatherings of the youth group had become one of the sorest points between her and her dad. She didn't want to be part of the group's activities without him, but Jon forced her to, trying to drive a wedge between them.

Well, it wouldn't work. Not now. And today, at least, he wouldn't have to watch her drive away in the same car as Lance.

She sat closer to him than usual. Her fingers under his leg burned all other thought from his mind. He didn't even hear the preaching.

She was right. The brief hours sitting beside her in church with only the slight touch wasn't enough. It never would be. They had to figure out something.

***

The next morning, he left a note in the tree.

I'm working a new horse, so I'll ride her along the ridge behind the high school about noon today. I'll stop there by the pines to tighten the cinch. Maybe I'll see you. I have to haul cattle for Jim tomorrow, so I hope I see you. If you're there, I'll throw myself at you, see if you catch me…

Huddled in her coat, Katie waited for him in the shelter of the pines, snow sifting through the spreading branches and onto her hair. The new horse, a black appaloosa filly with a white face and pink eyes, snorted at sight of her, jerking back on the bridle. The filly wasted precious minutes while he coaxed and sweet talked her, but finally, the horse followed him into the grove.

Without a word, he pulled Katie close with his free hand, lowering his head to her waiting lips.

At last, his heart pounding, he grinned against her. "I'm so shameless."

"Better you than me."

"I don't think so."

Her lips curved into a smile against his.

"How long before you have to go back?" he murmured.

"A few minutes."

He kissed her again, and then reluctantly straightened. She leaned her head on his chest, encircling his waist with her arms.

"What's goin' on with your mom?" he asked, stroking her hair.

She raised her head, her eyes troubled. "Nobody tells me much, but the midwives are worried because she's almost forty this time and she's always had a hard time having kids." She swallowed hard and looked away. "She's got a heart problem. And she…bleeds."

"When's she due?"

"Six weeks, or so. If she doesn't get better soon, I might have to do my schoolwork at home until Christmas break."

He nodded at the meaning in her eyes—no more meetings at the school if that happened.

Sighing, she laid her head on his chest again. "If that wasn't enough, Dave's giving everybody fits. He causes Mom way more worry than I do," she said resentfully, "but nobody says anything to him."

"I thought he was doin' better."

"He's feeling better, but he wants to be like he used to be and he's mad at the world. He's so hateful I just want to choke him."

He didn't know what to say, so he pulled her closer and kissed her hair.

"How long will you be gone this time?" she asked softly.

"Not long. Day or two." He grinned into her hair. "If I drive fast."

A bell in the school rang, echoing from the metal water tank.

She sighed. "That's me."

With his spurs clanking, he followed her out of the trees. He scanned the area through the light snowfall. No one around.

He looked at her and grinned. "Your hair looks like somebody's had his hands in it."

She flushed and reached to pull the ribbon loose. Before she could retie it, he pulled her to him, burying his face in the fragrance. It still smelled like lightning.

"Gil," she whispered, "I've got to go."

He reluctantly straightened. "Don't let any of those horny high school guys see you with your hair down."

"Gil!" She slapped at him, her face scarlet.

Laughing, he ducked away, tripping over his spurs. Startled, the filly jumped back, and he had to follow her as she jerked at the bridle. "Settle down," he murmured. "C'mon you silly little airhead."

Katie laughed, tying back her hair. "Serves you right." She started down the trail with its dusting of snow

"Hey," he called. "You forgot to tell me you love me."

She smiled and blew him a kiss. He caught it with a wide grin, following her with his gaze until a bend in the trail hid her.

Still grinning, he turned back to the filly. He flipped the reins over her head, launched himself onto her back, and headed up the ridge at an exhilarating gallop.

***

Wednesday night's church service had already started when he returned from his trip to a feedlot north of Denver. Katie's spot sat empty, but he found a note in the tree the next morning—she wanted to meet him at the barn again.

He rubbed his forehead, studying the paper spread open on his steering wheel. The barn was too far and the weather too cold for her to be running around at night. Besides, the forecast called for more snow later in the day. He scribbled a note on the back of hers.

Katie, I'll wait for you in your barn tonight. I think I can get in without anybody knowing if you'll pen the dogs. It's too cold for you to ride to the other place…

That night, icy knives of wind pierced every crack in the north wall of Jon Campbell's barn. The wind carried an occasional high-pitched bawl from one of the cows in the pasture below and whistled in the eaves of the barn loft, beating a loose piece of tin on the roof with an irritating lack of rhythm.

He squatted in the darkness just inside the door to the pasture, shivering. Snow had threatened all afternoon, and now it started with sudden pellets of sleet, rattling against the wall behind him like a fusillade of BB's.

Pulling up the collar of his coat, he held his watch close to his face. After midnight. She probably couldn't come. It was almost a relief. If they got caught right under her dad's nose…

The whole thing was crazy. He'd give her five more minutes then—

The outside door of the tack room scraped cautiously against the concrete floor. Light footsteps groped through the dark room toward the main part of the barn. He stood. A moment later the door between the two rooms opened with a creak of rusty hinges.

"Gil?" Katie called quietly.

"I'm here." He moved toward the slight sound her boots made on the straw and manure of the barn floor.

Then with a rush, she was in his arms. He gathered her body close, slight even in her bulky clothes, and hungrily found her lips.

That time, her dad's menacing silhouette took a lot longer to materialize against the flaming backlight of his desire. He fought the image away as he encircled her slim waist under her coat. His mouth burned along her jaw to the pulse racing in her soft throat and his searching hands found the skin of her back, like warm silk.

Instantly, her father's feeble outline vanished into flame colored light…

She wrenched away.

He opened his eyes in disbelief, his hands dropping to his sides. "Katie…What…?"

"I can't," she whispered, her eyes wide in the white shape of her face. She stepped backward. "I'm sorry. I can't."

He stared blankly as she backed into a bale of hay on the floor behind her and fell onto it, huddling there with her hands over her face.

He cleared his throat. "Okay." He rubbed a shaking hand over his hair—he'd lost his hat somewhere in all of that. "Okay." He got on one knee beside her and pulled away her hands from her face. "I'm sorry. I forgot—" 

"Gil, I've never felt this way about…anybody before," she whispered, her eyes wide with distress.

He grinned crookedly. "You don't know how happy that makes me."

"Don't joke about it. Please."

"I'm not. Believe me."

He drew her into his arms. Still trembling, she hid her face on his chest. The tin flapped on the roof, loud in the silence between them.

"Isn't there somewhere we could get married where Dad wouldn't have to sign for me?" she asked, her voice muffled by his coat.

Taken off guard, he gaped open-mouthed into the darkness. She raised her head and met his startled gaze.

"You'd marry me? I didn't think…" he stammered. "The church and everything…?"

She leaned into him, touching his face. "You'd keep coming to church with me, wouldn't you? Everything would work out okay." Her eyes searched his. "Wouldn't it?"

His thoughts scrambled frantically. Clearly, they couldn't keep going the way they were. He'd get her knocked up, or something, like—

But marriage…Now?

A sudden vivid memory of his father on the porch drinking whiskey from a Pepsi can and saying ugly things to his mother hit him. What if he couldn't do it? What if he really did turn out just like his dad?

"You told me you'd never marry out of your faith," he said. "I never thought… I thought…"

She stared at him, her open mouth a dark shape in her face. "You don't want to marry me? You just want to—" she made a vague gesture—"do this?"

"No, Katie." He pulled her suddenly stiff body into his arms. "I wanna marry you. I do. I just never thought you'd—"

"You think I'd do stuff like this with just anybody? I haven't even done this with—" She broke off, trying to pull away.

"No. Katie, no. I want us to get married, but you're still in school and your mom's problems…We couldn't really do that to her right now…Could we? Maybe I should leave for a while. Just until—"