The Fairest of Them All (16 page)

Troy shook his head. “Russ was pulling Daniel out when I got there. The horses were going crazy. Sal was screaming. She was in such pain, Russ had to shoot her. After that, Russ started yelling at Daniel and me to get back and let the fire department handle it.”

Carly’s stomach felt like lead. “Where is Russ?”

“As soon as he called you, he was out of here like a shot. He went back to take the horses over to his place. He barely let them bandage his arm.”

“He’s hurt? He didn’t tell me that on the phone.”

Troy snorted. “He was probably too busy giving orders. He told me if I didn’t stay here with Daniel tonight, he’d sic the Ladies Auxiliary on me.”

“A fate worse than death?” Carly took his arm and coaxed him out of the room. She knew Troy hated hospitals. His contrariness hid a tender, caring heart. When they were little, he’d always been the one to sneak an extra scoop of ice cream or piece of candy for Carly. “Why don’t you go to my apartment and take a shower and get some sleep? You look like you need it more than I do.”

“Is that an insult?”

“No,” she said, wrapping her arms around her most obstinate brother. “It’s my way of saying I love you.”

He let out a deep breath and squeezed her. “Same here. I’ll, uh, I’ll take you up on your offer. You sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m sure,” Carly said, but at the same time she wondered about Russ.

“Garth and Jarod picked a hell of a time for a beach trip,” Troy said, shaking his head.

“Yeah. At least they’ll be back on Sunday.”

“I guess Russ and I can pick up the slack till then.” Troy bussed her on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.” She noticed the way he relied on Russ without question. Returning to Daniel’s room, Carly remembered Russ’s harvest plans. She spent the better part of the night recalling how they’d last parted and wondering if it burdened Russ as much as it did her.

The next morning, Carly drove Daniel home and settled him in bed with a big glass of ginger ale and a straw. While he slept, she made a quick trip over to Russ’s and found him and his crew stretching a hydraulic seine across one of his ponds.

Russ nodded at her when she waved, but kept on working. “How’s Daniel?”

“Tired and crabby.” Even at this early hour, the sun beat down without an ounce of pity. He’d tied a white handkerchief around his head to keep the sweat from his eyes. She wished she’d brought him something to drink. She noted the stark contrast between his white bandage and tanned arm. “You didn’t tell me you got hurt.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t seem important at the time.”

Her heart twisted. How could he think it wouldn’t be important? Then she remembered that she hadn’t asked him anything about himself during their brief phone call the night before. “When did you get to bed?”

“No time,” he said, then called out an order to one of his crew.

“Well, don’t worry about coming over to Daniel’s tonight. You’ve got enough on your plate, and if you’re harvesting tomorrow, you’ll need your rest.”

“I can handle it.”

Exasperation spun inside her. “You don’t have to. We’ll find someone else. I know you had to shoot Sal last night, and you probably need—”

“Save it, Carly,” Russ cut in and looked at her for the first time. “I don’t need the mothering routine from you. I’m fine.”

It took a full minute for her to catch her breath. God, it hurt to have him shut her out. Instinct had pride, then anger covering her like a shield. She pressed her lips together in a bitter smile. “Excuse me. I made a mistake and forgot you’re not human.” Then she turned and left, barely noticing the string of curses Russ let out before she closed her car door.

It required all of Carly’s persuasive abilities, but by noon, Sara was serving Daniel his lunch and Carly was helping serve the children-who-have-lost-a- parent group their lunch. She shoved Russ and his cool attitude firmly from her mind. Every time she thought about his closed expression and his flat tone of voice, she felt as though a lash were cutting across her heart. It hurt to smile, but she managed.

Augusta Winfree, the leader of the group, was a pretty blond woman in her thirties with an easy smile, generous laughter, and compassionate hazel eyes. She was one of the most feminine women Carly had ever seen, yet the children called her Gus. “I think they’re having a good time,” she said to Carly as they watched the waitstaff lead the children in the hokeypokey.

“Good. You’ll have to come back.” The close-knit group made her curious. “They seem so well adjusted. Do you meet every week?”

Augusta nodded. “And everybody has two buddies they can call if things start getting rough.”

Carly was amazed. “This is wonderful. I wish they’d had something like this when I was a child.”

“You lost a parent when you were little?”

“Both,” Carly said simply. Her losses were a sore spot that had never completely healed. She tended to handle the subject gingerly to avoid extra pain. Carly shook off a quick stab, and gently smiled at the solemn, dark-haired little girl who approached Au-gusta. Carly felt a rush of déjà vu. That little girl could have been her fifteen years ago.

“Need a hug?” Augusta asked. Not waiting for an answer, she pulled the little girl onto her lap and squeezed her. Augusta cuddled her for a few minutes, then the little girl returned to the group. “That was Jacey. Her mother died three months ago. She doesn’t want to talk much yet. She just wants the hugs.”

Carly marveled at what a special service the group provided. “What do you do at the meetings?”

“We always have cookies or ice cream,” Augusta said in a mock serious tone. “I insist on it. Sometimes we have social outings, like pizza parties, or swimming. Other nights when I have enough volunteers, we break into groups and deal with feelings. We draw faces, write stories. The stories tend to be autobiographical. We work very hard to teach the children not to blame themselves. There's so much guilt.”

Carly nodded, remembering. “You’re right about that.”

“We always need more volunteers.”

Carly shook her head. “Not yet. I’ve got some other things to settle first.” She hesitated, thinking of Russ. “Maybe after that.”

“Sounds like you’re wishing something in your life were different.”

Surprised, Carly raised her eyebrows. “You’re very perceptive.”

Augusta gave a wry smile. “It’s a gift. Anyway, that’s one of the other things we do. We talk about wishes for what might have been. Sometimes people get stuck on that instead of going forward and trying to make their wishes come true.” She shrugged. “It’s not just children who’ve lost a parent. It can be someone who’s become disappointed or disillusioned by any number of things, like job loss, divorce.”

Augusta sounded as though she’d had personal experience with grief. Carly wondered about the source of it, but didn’t ask, sensing Augusta’s need for privacy.

“When people are hurt, they get scared and sometimes they’re so busy protecting themselves, they forget how to open up.”

Her observation brought a spasm of pain. Augusta was talking about Russ. He’d been hurt and now he was protecting himself. What would it take for him to open up again? Was it even possible? she wondered with a despair so strong, her chest hurt. “How do you help someone like that?” she murmured.

Augusta gestured toward the group of children. Her expression softened. “You have to be patient,” she said. “And
very
stubborn.”

Carly stared at Augusta, seeing hope and determination. Maybe that’s what it would take for Russ to open up. Augusta’s words took root within her. The seed was planted. Well, at least half a seed. Patience had never been Carly’s long suit, but she could do stubborn like nobody’s business.

Thursday night, Russ dragged himself up the wooden steps to his front door and simply leaned against it for a moment. Lord, he was tired. He wondered what little surprise would be sitting on his kitchen table tonight. It had been a homemade loaf of bread the first night, strawberry preserves the next, and last night there’d been a squat glass of his favorite whiskey.

He had strong suspicions about who was leaving him the gifts and it wasn’t the Ladies Auxiliary. He’d called her a few times and left messages on her answering machine, but between the harvest and Daniel’s accident he’d had no time to seek her out.

He wished they didn’t have this misunderstanding between them. After sharing so much with her, then leaving her, he’d been carrying two unbearable aches, one behind his breastbone, the other in his pants. Both were persistent, and Russ was convinced that Carly was the best person to take care of all his aches. He wished she were in there, waiting for him, ready for him. Russ gave a dry chuckle. Hell, he was so tired, he wouldn’t be able to do anything if she were there.

He shook his head and shoved open the door. When he reached the kitchen, he stopped and stared at the table.
Meet me at the swimming pond
, a note written in feminine script said.
And bring the apples.

Russ raised an eyebrow skeptically. He put his hands in his pocket and looked at the red apples beside the note. He couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter building in his chest. But he strangled on his sense of humor, coughing violently, when he saw what was behind those red apples. Three plastic packets of prophylactics.

“She’s lost it,” Russ muttered. She could drown in that pond at night. How long had she been waiting? he wondered. He crammed the rubbers in his pocket and stalked out the door. He grabbed a flashlight from his truck and took off through the woods.

“Carly,” he yelled as he got closer to the swimming pond. “I’m gonna kill—” He walked straight into a skirt hanging from a tree. His blood pressure rose fifty points. Another few steps and he found a tank top. His gaze landed on the bra clinging decoratively to a tree limb, and he started to sweat.

He struggled for oxygen, inhaling her sultry scent as he clutched her clothes in his hands. Two more steps and his flashlight found the shiny, slippery- looking triangle of her panties. He thought about leaving them there on that bush, but he couldn’t resist rubbing the silky material between his fingers. It reminded him of the last time he’d held and touched her, how soft and moist she’d been. He couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Carly!” he yelled, stumbling the last few feet to the pond. “Have you lost your mind?” He heard a splashing noise and turned his head, finding her. She was a water nymph with black hair and glowing skin. Moonlight shone on her face and pale shoulders.

“Come on in,” she called, smiling. “The water’s fine.”

“What’s gotten into you? It’s almost eleven o’clock.”

“I know. If you’d taken much longer, my skin would have started to prune.” She bobbed underneath the surface and rose again, shaking her head. “I’m just inviting you for a friendly swim. Come on.”

Frustration and good sense warred inside him. “I’ve got too much work to be out here fooling around.”

“You’ve been working too hard. You need to take a break. I’m following your example. That’s what friends are for. Isn’t that what you said when you kidnapped me?”

Russ shifted his feet and exhaled heavily. “That was different.”

“How?” Carly lazily slid onto her back and floated. While her feet sank beneath the surface, the water flirted with her torso. Her firm breasts were revealed, the tips like small raspberries on cream.

His jeans nearly split in two. Russ licked his lips, feeling his resolve wane. “Get out,” he said before he gave in.

She giggled, then rolled over and he caught sight of her gorgeous derriere. “Oh Lord,” he murmured weakly. He closed his eyes. “Get out,” he called in his most intimidating voice. Then he glared at her.

Carly just threw him a siren’s smile. “Come and
get me
.”

That tore it. Russ mentally waved the white flag of surrender. How much could a man endure? He figured he’d already broken the record for most persistent arousal. Heedless of buttons flying into the grass, he ripped off his shirt, unfastened his jeans and eased them over his distended manhood. He kicked off his shoes, socks, and jeans.

Carly wolf-whistled. “Don’t forget the apple!”

She was a wicked witch, he thought. And she was going to be his wife if he had to lock her in his house for the next fifty years. Russ finally cracked a smile. He shook his head and started walking. “It’s not easy getting those on in the water, Carly.”

“You’re a talented man.”

“It can be tricky.” He splashed into the pond until his knees and waist were covered by the cool water.

She flutter-kicked closer to him. “I’ll help,” she offered. His breath caught when she touched his jaw and looked at him with concern etched across her delicate features. “How are you?”

His insides went gushy, but his body stayed hard. Though his need was fierce, her tenderness chipped away at his irritation. He pulled her into his arms and pressed her cool breasts to his heated chest. “Okay.”

“I’ve missed you,” Carly murmured. She kissed his neck and suckled on his earlobe.

Russ nudged her head back and took her sweet mouth, sipping from it like a starving man. He was so hungry for her, his body shook. He rubbed her shoulder and felt goose bumps on her skin. “You’re freezing. Let’s get out of here.”

“Not yet.” Carly fluttered her hands over his shoulders. She averted her head. The vixen had turned shy, he thought. He’d trade an entire harvest for what was inside her mind at this minute. He watched her take a deep breath. “There’s something I’ve never done, and I was kinda hoping you’d . . .”

Curious, Russ cupped her chin and raised it so he could see her. “What?”

“Well, I want to”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“do it in the water.”

His insides twisted. “Honey, I wish we could, but I left the protection in my pocket.”

She bit her lip. “Well, could we do it for just a minute?”