Foxfire Light (23 page)

“Ecstatic,” Rachel declared. “I have you to thank for that, Joanna. If you hadn't shamed me into that dinner invitation, I probably would still be running from him.”

“Sooner or later, I would have caught you,” Reece stated.

“He was running out of patience,” Joanna remembered from her seat on the edge of the ivory couch.

“I wish you had been able to fly back for the wedding.” There was regret in Rachel's glance. “I understand why you couldn't, but—”

“I'd like to have been there,” she admitted, and paused to mentally brace herself to speak his name. “Linc was best man, wasn't he?” She tried to sound happy and uncaring, interested only by the aspect of their wedding party.

“Yes, he was.” Reece wasn't fooled.

Joanna tried to fake an idle curiosity. “How is Linc?”

“Fine,” he nodded and closely watched his niece.

The doorbell rang, and Rachel slipped off the arm of the chair. “I'll answer it.” She laid a hand on his shoulder to keep Reece in his seat, then walked toward the foyer off the living room.

It was a natural gesture of belonging that Joanna couldn't help noticing. “Rachel is already regarding this as her home, isn't she?” she remarked to her uncle.

“It is her home . . .
our
home,” he corrected himself with a smile. Then he casually brought the subject back to Linc. “I was under the impression that you were becoming serious about Linc before you left.”

She lowered her gaze, agitated by the direct comment. “I'd rather not discuss it.” Immediately Joanna contradicted herself by saying, “Linc didn't give me a chance to explain why I had to leave.”

There were muffled voices in the foyer as Rachel greeted the caller at the door. Joanna paid no attention to them. Her back was to the entry area, so she didn't see the tall, dark-haired man pause at the living room opening.

“I never guessed Elizabeth would insist that you leave with her,” Reece stated. “It's ultimately my fault you had to leave at all.” His startled gaze noticed Linc Wilder standing there. He started to say something to Joanna, but Linc motioned him to keep quiet.

“Linc should have listened,” Joanna insisted. “I don't blame you, Reece. There are times when
Yd
like to slap Mother's face. But. . . with all her faults, she's still my mother. What kind of daughter would I have been if I hadn't stood beside her?”

“I know,” Reece murmured.

“Linc should have understood that,” Joanna rephrased her earlier statement, with a little more anger in her voice this time. “He's impossible, Reece. I mean, there he was telling me that I was telling
him
goodbye! And I was doing nothing of the kind!”

“Why didn't you tell me to shut up and listen?” Linc asked quietly.

His voice quivered through her, shocking her into stillness. For a split second, Joanna thought she was losing her mind. She half-turned to look behind her. Her heart stopped beating when she saw Linc standing there.

Her gaze ran in disbelief over his well-muscled, long-bodied frame. His face seemed leaner, the rugged planes of his features more pronounced. Joanna was conscious that Linc was looking her over, too, almost devouring her wth his eyes. That did nothing to calm the erratic behavior of her pulse.

“What are you doing here, Linc?” Joanna stood up slowly to face him, afraid she might be guessing wrong about his reason.

She was only partially aware of Rachel and Reece slipping quietly out of the room to leave her alone with Linc. When he walked forward to
enter the room, Joanna noticed the bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Why does any man leave the hills?” Linc countered her question with one of his own, then supplied the answer. “To find himself a woman.”

Linc didn't stop until he was squarely in front of her. His earthy virility reached out, disturbing her senses. It would have been easy to take the last step into his arms, but Joanna waited, breathlessly, unable to speak.

“In my case,” Linc went on, “I had to fly half way across the country to find the right one.” The dark glow of gold fire was in his eyes when he looked at her, searching her expression. When he spoke again, his voice was husky with intense longing. “It's lonely back there without you, Joanna.”

Her breath caught in her throat. For an instant, she wasn't able to reply. “I've been lonely here, too,” she admitted.

He appeared to lean toward her, as if to sweep her into his arms, then stopped. “There's one way to end our misery.”

Inside, she was straining toward him, but some invisible force held her in check, too. “What's that?” Joanna whispered.

“Marry me,” Linc said simply.

A smile began to curve its line along her lips. “I'll marry you,” she accepted and added her own conditions to the proposal. “But—only if you promise to keep me barefoot and pregnant.”

His arms were around her and it was the only
place in the world she wanted to be. Joanna closed her eyes, loving him more than she had ever believed it was possible to love a man.

His mouth came down to bruise her lips in a hungry kiss, but Joanna had been without the particular satisfaction only he could give just as long as he had. This was a feasting time. Both of them were trembling long before they had their fill.

His heart was beating so loudly, Joanna could hear it above the drumming of her own. She leaned weakly against the wide wall of his chest, momentarily satisfied just to be in his arms.

“I guess I didn't need this after all,” Linc stated thickly.

One arm was withdrawn from around her. Its loss, as much as his cryptic statement, prompted Joanna to glance around. The champagne bottle was still in his hand. She had been so absorbed in loving him, she hadn't been conscious of the bottle's alien shape against her body.

It took her a second to understand why Linc had brought the champagne. It was so obvious when she realized it. He had believed she preferred champagne dinners to barbeques. The gesture of bringing champagne proved the lengths he would go to have her.

“If you had bothered to ask me,” Joanna murmured, “I would have told you that I don't like champagne.”

“There are times when you can be as stubborn
as a Missouri mule, Joanna,” Linc declared on a vibrantly possessive note. “But I have the feeling I'll make a ridgerunner's wife out of you yet.”

She partially withdrew from his embrace, but continued to rely on his steadying support as she bent to slip off her heels.

“What are you doing?” he frowned despite the hint of amusement in his voice.

“A proper ridgerunner's wife is supposed to be barefoot,” Joanna reminded him. “I can handle that part of it, but I'll need your participation for the rest of it.”

He laughed and pulled her back into his arms. “I'll handle it—in my own good time,” Linc promised, tossing the champagne bottle onto the couch cushions. “I'm not sure that I fancy the idea of your momma marching me down the aisle with a shotgun at my back.”

The reference to her mother sobered Joanna, reminding her of the reason for the separation. “You do understand why I had to come back with her, don't you?” she asked.

“Now, I do,” Linc assured her. “At the time you left, I didn't. I thought she had influenced you into changing your mind about me.” A wry smile crooked his mouth, a very handsome mouth. “It would be safe to say that I'm not your mother's first choice as a son-in-law.”

“But I'm not marrying you so she can have a
son.” Joanna would have liked
her mother's approval, but it wouldn't change anything if she didn't have it. In all fairness to her mother, she had to say, “She has changed a little—since that
incident with Reece. When our first baby is born, I wouldn't be surprised if she came to the hills to see it.”

“Let's do some practicing first before we get down to the serious business of making a baby,” Linc suggested.

“Anytime,” Joanna murmured provocatively.