When they had all been put to bed in their respective temporary shelters, Kerry caught up with the older couple.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am about what you’ve done. I only hope that I didn’t pressure you into making the decision by what I said earlier today,” she said with concern.
Each of them embraced her. Bob said, “We both think this will honor Hal’s memory in a special way. We’ll only have Joe for a few years before he goes to college. In the meantime, we can make certain that he catches up with his peers academically and socially.”
“You see, Kerry,” Cage’s mother said, “our house emptied of all our children so quickly. Cage was gone, then Hal left. Soon after that Jenny married Cage. Bob and I can’t fill those empty rooms. It will be so good having a young person there again. Trent already idolizes Joe, so he’ll fit well into the family. And he’ll have access to the ranch and the horses he seems to like so well. It all worked out beautifully.”
That was one problem that had been resolved, Kerry thought, as she let the curtain fall back into place over the window. Maybe tomorrow would provide a solution to the problem of Lisa’s future. Kerry had hugged her tightly when she tucked her into bed. She looked like a little doll in her new dotted swiss nightgown. Lisa had spontaneously returned her hug and kissed her cheek wetly and noisily.
Concern about Lisa wasn’t the only burden she was taking to bed with her.
Guilt was a bedfellow. It pressed on her heavily when she recalled the scathing words she had flung at Linc. She had unfairly accused him of never thinking of anyone but himself, when actually he had risked his life countless times to save hers and the orphans’.
Why had she said that? Why did he, more than anyone she’d ever known, provoke her to do and say things that were so out of character?
Her hand paused in the act of pulling back the bedspread when she heard a heavy tread on the stairs. Jenny and Cage had retired to their bedroom as soon as his parents had left for home. The approaching footsteps could only belong to one person. Before she could change her mind, Kerry quickly moved toward the door. She opened it just as Linc was walking past. He looked at her in surprise.
“Is something wrong?”
She shook her head no, already regretting her spontaneity. His shirttail was hanging out and his shirt was unbuttoned. The dark hair on his chest was a tempting sight. She followed its tapering pattern downward. The snap on his jeans was undone. He was barefoot. His hair had been tousled, seemingly by impatient hands. He looked heart-stoppingly wonderful.
When she just stood there rooted to the spot, saying nothing, he said, “I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I went back down to smoke a cigarette and—”
“No, you didn’t disturb me,” she said on a rush of air. “I...I owe you an apology for what I said earlier.” His eyebrow arched inquisitively. “About you thinking only of yourself,” she blurted out, by way of explanation. “It was a stupid thing to say after all you did for us. You saved our lives and...and I ask your forgiveness for saying something so patently untrue about you.”
When she dared to raise her eyes, she saw that his were slowly ranging down her body, which was clothed only in the nightgown she had purchased that day in town. She was backlit by the lamp on the nightstand. Her body was cast into detailed silhouette inside the sheer fabric.
“I’m glad you stopped me,” Linc said huskily. “Because I owe you something, too.”
She became entranced by his eyes. “You don’t owe me another apology
for this morning. You’ve already apologized.”
“I owe you something besides an apology.”
“What?”
He backed her into the room. “A whole lot of pleasure.”
Chapter 12
The door closed behind him with a soft click of the latch.
“Pleasure?”
“P-L-E-A-S-U-R-E. As in what was missing in your initiation into lovemaking. I took a lot, gave very little. I want to make that up to you.”
“You mean you want to...uh...”
Nodding his head, Linc moved forward with a prowling gait. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.” Reaching her, he took her shoulders between his hands and drew her against him.
“But we can’t.” Her protest was as faint as the resistance she exerted when he adjusted his body to fit hers.
“How come?”
“Because we don’t even like each other.”
He shrugged. “You’re all right.”