Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (23 page)

"It's not like you think," Justine said, while grabbing her jacket off a coat peg by the door.

Grace rushed over and took her by the arm. "Stop!" she said. "What is going on in your head? You're chasing after that man. Did you know him before coming here?"

"No, but I need to catch up with him," Justine replied, anxious to leave, wanting to be with Brad when he entered the stable, if that's where he was going.

"Why?" Grace asked, holding onto Justine's arm. "You don't even know him."

Justine shrugged off Grace's hand and slipped into the jacket. "I'm going because he needs me right now." She pulled her wool cap over her head and started for the door.

"Are you insane?" Grace rushed around Justine and pressed her back to the door to keep her from leaving. "Why would Brad Meecham need you? He's got to have women all over the country. He goes on book tours all the time, and he's not a monk. Look at the man. He's head-to-toe testosterone. You'll end up in his bed, he'll use you as long as you're here, and he'll drop you like the rest of your men do when they're finished with you, except with Brad Meecham you might read about yourself in one of his books someday—the woman the CIA agent screwed while stranded in a snow-covered cabin at a guest ranch, but he couldn't help himself. She was there, and she was available."

Justine was stunned to hear Grace talking the way she was. People screwing people wasn't part of Grace's vocabulary. But then, Grace was married, and she liked screwing Jack. Still, she knew Grace was concerned. "I can't explain it right now," she said, "but Brad does need me."

Grace looked at her, long and hard. "You've been to bed with him, haven't you?"

Justine gave a kind of half shrug. "I comforted him."

Grace threw her arms up in disgust. "You came here to try to get your life in order but I don't think that's what you intend to do. You're here camping on our doorstep because you don't have any place to go because all the men in your life have kicked you out. Well, go on then. Catch up with the man. Spend the rest of your time here in his bed. Just don't come crying on my shoulder when he's finished with you. I've tried to help you but you don't want to help yourself."

Justine zipped up her jacket and said to Grace, "Honey, I love you, and I know you think the worst of your big sister right now, and in time I hope to explain about Brad and me—there's more to this than you know. But what's happening between us is different than it's been with any other man I've ever been involved with. Brad's different. I know he won't use me or hurt me but I can't tell you why I know. Just trust me this time." She gave Grace a kiss on the cheek and left.

She caught up with Brad as he was about to enter the stable. When she reached for his arm he jumped with a start and thrust out his elbow, and his hand curved into a fist as he swung around, about to strike her. Then he caught himself, slammed his fist hard against his other palm, and said, in a sharp voice, "Don't ever come up on me from behind without saying anything." He took several long breaths, letting each out slowly.

"I'm sorry," Justine said. "Are you alright?"

Brad rested his hands on her shoulders and dropped his forehead against hers, and said, "I could have busted your jaw or sent you sprawling to the ground. It's reflexes. It just happens. And you need to leave now."

"Why?" she asked, finding her hands resting at his waist.

"Because I'm going in there to confront my demons," he replied, dropping his hands from her shoulders and breaking the connection between them.

She removed her hands from him. "Then I'll go with you."

"No," Brad said. "I could hurt you. I don't know what will happen."

"I've been hurt before," Justine replied.

Brad looked at her intently. "By who?"

Justine shrugged. "Men. Some get rough when they're mad, or during sex."

Brad's blue eyes darkened to cobalt. "Hell, Justine, why do you let them do it? Why don't you walk away from them? Why don't you walk away from me?"

Justine couldn't explain about the others, but she did know about Brad. "Because you drew me into your mind in your book and I saw the scene through your eyes. Because in the cabin when I was holding you I could feel what you were going through. Because when you go in there now and see that hook, I want to be with you if you need me again."

Brad gave a short, sardonic laugh. "Yeah, we both know what that was all about. It won't happen again."

"But it's okay if it does," Justine insisted.

Brad looked at her intently, then raised his hand and touched her face, and said, "You're a special woman, Justine Page. Don't ever let any man tell you otherwise. But stop letting the bastards use you." He moved toward her, and Justine was sure he was about to kiss her, and she wanted him to kiss her, but instead, he said, "Okay then come with me, but if things start up again, don't let me use you like I did."

"I said it would be okay."

"No, it's not okay," Brad said. "There are other ways to knee a man in the balls. Letting him humiliate himself is one of them."

Justine understood what he was saying, but he was also taking away the one thing she could give to him. Men had suckled her breasts during sex and she'd hated it, but allowing them to do it brought her closer to the glass ceiling so she put up with it, along with having them climb on top of her to finish the job. All part of the game-of-success in a man's world. But with Brad it was different, even when she stood in front of him with her shirt gaping open while he was trying to prove a point. But now, she had no choice but to allow him to confront his demons like a man.

"I'll just be with you," she said.

He put his arm around her shoulders and she slipped her hand around his waist. "Okay, then I guess I'm ready to go in there and slay the dragon."

CHAPTER 3

Brad felt Justine's arm tighten around him as they stepped into the stable, but when he looked to where the hook had been, it was gone.

"Look out below," Jack called from the hayloft. They heard the grind of a motor as an old tractor engine, hanging from the hook, was being lowered by a hydraulic winch. For an instant the engine morphed into a mutilated body, but Brad took several long breaths and willed the image to go away, and it was an engine again.

"You okay?" Justine asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Brad replied, focusing on reality—a length of cable with a farm hook, a rusted out tractor engine block.

Jack called down, "Could you unhook the engine, Meecham?"

"I'll do it," Justine called up to Jack. She reached for the hook.

Brad grabbed her arm to stop her. "Don't," he said. "You'll scratch your hand. The old engine's rusty." For a few moments he looked at her hand. Smooth skin. Long tapered fingers. Nails manicured. A hand as unblemished as she was on the outside. She had multiple blemishes inside though. None he couldn't handle. All worth fixing.

"I'm not a china doll," Justine snapped, and reached for the hook. She gave it a twist and released the engine. "Send down more junk if you want," she called up to Jack.

They could hear Jack's guffaw rolling down from the loft. "Better be careful, Justine," he said. "You'll turn into a ranch hand." He scurried down the ladder from the loft and took the hook from Justine's hand and shoved it into a wide crack in a post to get it out of the way.

Brad looked at the hook with its tip in a crevice... like the boy's belly... and his heart began pumping hard... and he started trembling... and he felt the blood draining from his face...

"Hell," he said. "Not now."

Justine placed her hand on his back. "Look away," she said, but it was too late. Jack saw what was happening. Not the trembling—Brad could almost disguise that—but he couldn't disguise the blood-drained shock on his face. Brad knew it was there. He started breathing deeply. It sometimes calmed things.

Jack's eyes shifted between Brad and Justine and the hook. Taking Brad's arm, he turned him away from the sight of the hook and said, "I want to take the two of you to a place where you can come to terms with the past. It'll be good for your souls."

"Where?" Justine asked.

"The spring. You know about it, Justine, but you've never been there, but it's where both of you need to be right now." When neither of them replied, Jack said, "Trust me. It's only ten minutes by horse."

"Can't we hike?" Justine asked. "I've never ridden a horse. I only just petted one for the first time two days ago, your big horse Dan."

"Dan's one of my best trail horses," Jack said. "We put all the new riders up on him. It would make Grace happy if you rode a horse. She worries about you not getting out and doing things."

Justine shrugged. "I guess, as long as you say Dan's gentle."

"You'll do fine." Jack looked at Brad. "What about you, Meecham? Can you ride?"

"Sure," Brad replied. "My grandfather had a ranch. I used to visit him summers."

"Good. I'll get them saddled. You're both dressed okay."

"So what's special about this place?" Brad asked.

"It's called Whispering Springs and it's a place where the Indians went to be freed of evil spirits. At least that's what their descendants claim. There's an Indian mound not far from it, but the spring is where you both need to be." Jack eyed Brad steadily. "When you get back you'll be able to look at that hook and see only a hook."

Brad looked at Jack with a new respect. He hadn't told him about the hooks, only that he'd seen things he couldn't put aside, but Jack read his book and filled in the rest.

Jack saddled the horses and they started out on a snow-covered trail that bordered a stream partially frozen over, with water rushing around rocks and through low brush poking through the snow. Justine rode behind Jack, and Brad brought up at the rear.

Justine turned and looked back, and even though her face was flushed from the cold and her eyes were bright and watery with tears from the wintry air, she was smiling, and Brad knew she was enjoying this little adventure. She was also more beautiful than when he saw her sitting in the lodge and she looked up and caught him watching. In only four days she'd changed from that woman. He was glad to see the change, but it bothered him that he wanted her more. He also had the arrogance to think he could satisfy her more than the others. He wanted to try, but wouldn't. Not without the ring.

About ten minutes later, Jack turned his horse off the main trail and dismounted. "You can tie your horses to a tree," he said.

Brad dismounted and tied his horse, then went to help Justine down, but when he raised his hands to her, she pushed them away and said, "I want to do this by myself."

Damn, if she wasn't becoming his kind of woman. A whole lot of spunk when she got peeved. He'd have to keep a tighter rein on things. In the end, they'd just be two people coming together for a short affair then going their separate ways. That was the way it was with women like Justine, high-powered women who went after what they wanted and used whatever they had to clinch the deal, and with Justine it was brains, unrivaled beauty, and a willingness to use her body to get what she wanted. The problem was, he was beginning to think she didn't know what the hell she really wanted, so she'd keep searching, and using men, and searching.

After tethering the horses, they started up a narrow snow-covered footpath that cut into the side of the hill, and after a short hike, ended at the mouth of the cavern where snow had melted from the heat of the hot springs. Inside was a natural rock pool, which looked, in the dusky twilight of the cavern, to be about eight feet in diameter, with steam rising from its dark surface. The cavern had rough, rocky walls and ceiling, but the rock floor was smooth around the pool, as if made that way over time by humans sitting around it over thousands of years.

"Here's a towel," Jack said. "You'll have to share it." He offered the towel. "The pool has a natural ledge that you can sit on. If you're quiet you'll hear sounds, a little eerie at times, and it's probably wind finding its way through crevices in the rocks, but after you've listened for a while you'll feel different. Whatever was bothering you won't matter so much." He turned to Justine, and said, "You can get in the water first. It's dark in there and Brad won't see you."

Justine gave Jack a wry smile. "I don't have a fetish about men seeing me," she replied, "and I'm sure Brad's seen his share of women."

Jack glanced from one to the other. "I'll leave you two then. The trail's easy to follow and the horses know the way home." As he passed Brad on the way out, he patted him on the shoulder, and said, "I trust you with her. Don't let me down."

Brad watched him go. Jack Hansen was an unusual man. He didn't have the degrees, but he was a self-educated man with uncanny insight, and he was wise. He knew when a man could be trusted.
His sister-in-law would be safe in a hot springs pool with Brad Meecham
, Jack decided. A heavy burden for any hot-blooded male to bear, especially with a woman like Justine.

"Are you going in?" Justine asked, while eyeing him.

"Sure. That's why Jack brought us here." Brad shrugged out of his parka and tugged his wool shirt and tee shirt together over his head and tossed them onto the rock floor of the cavern, then started unfastening his jeans. "You don't care, do you?" he asked.

"Do what you want," Justine said. "I'm familiar with the anatomy of a man."

Brad slipped off his jeans and briefs and tossed them onto the shirt and parka and crouched beside the pool, testing the water. "It's warm," he said, feeling his body changing at the thought of Justine being naked in the water with him, yet knowing he wouldn't touch her. Hoping the steamy water would settle things down, he eased into the pool, letting out a sigh as the warmth closed in around him. He rested his head against the rock wall behind him, and with the water mid-chest, waited to see what Justine would do, which was to stand looking down at the pool.

"Grace wouldn't get in there with anyone but Jack," she stated.

"You're not Grace," Brad said, "and I won't touch you."

Justine crouched and swished the water with her hand. "Why do I feel reluctant to do this?" she asked. "I got half naked in bed with you when I didn't even know your name, and it didn't bother me then. Now it does."

"That's because you're starting to become who you really are, a woman who won't take crap from a man again." She looked up and smiled at him, the first real smile he'd seen from her. She was a stunning-looking woman, but that smile was like a summer day curling around him.

"I guess I should," Justine said. "It's nice and warm."

She unzipped her jacket then turned her back to him while she stripped off her clothes, which weren't much beneath her jeans and shirt. No bra, only thong underwear. "You're learning," Brad said, scanning the back of her—nicely-proportioned shoulders, long smooth crease down the middle of her back, tiny waist and smooth firm butt.

She glanced over her shoulder. "I'm learning what?"

"Lesson two. I'm sitting here wanting to see the front of you and you're giving me the back. That's good. Now get in the water and let's see what this is all about. Jack brought us here for a reason, and it wasn't for us to screw the shit out of each other."

Justine laughed. "You're right." She turned around and Brad saw perfection. When she caught him staring at her breasts, she said, "I can't do anything about them, but I don't need a bra either."

"Yeah, well a man can only fit so much in his hand," Brad said, "but we're not here for sex talk." She smiled at him again, and it was like something had wrapped itself around his heart.

"Jack's right," Justine mused, "this is peaceful. Let's close our eyes and listen."

In the shadowy darkness of the cavern they sat silently, and before long eerie sounds echoed from the bowels of the mountain. Haunting sounds. Distant, unnatural sounds, like wailing. But after a while the sounds became more like sighs. And mirth. Happy contented sounds.

A place where the Indians went to be freed of evil spirits.

Maybe it was so, because after some time, Brad felt different, like something
had
happened.

Cutting into the eerie silence, Justine said, in a quietly contented voice, "I feel the calm, like a cloak of peacefulness settling around me. I couldn't put it into words but maybe someday you will and I'll read about it in your book and know what you're feeling right now."

Brad opened his eyes and Justine was staring at him. It came to him that she'd lost all the bravado. Gazing across the pool at him, with her pensive eyes, and delicate face, and trim breasts breaking the surface of the water, she looked innocent of men; Eve in the Garden of Eden. But she wasn't trying to tempt him. At least not outwardly.

Her brows drew together and she looked at him thoughtfully, and said, "I want to tell you something I've never told anyone. You said you'd help me be more like Grace."

Brad studied her sober face. She was reaching out, probably for the first time in her life to a man, for something that had nothing to do with moving up in the corporate world, something that mattered on a personal level. "We're here to come to terms with things, so feel free to tell me whatever you want."

She bit her bottom lip and seemed reluctant to reveal what it was. Then she shrugged off her concern, and said, "I've had sex with a lot of men and I never once liked it. It was just something I went along with because it was expected in the relationship."

"Have you ever had an orgasm?" he asked, suspecting she hadn't.

"I suppose, but I'm not sure," she replied. "With some it seemed better than others."

"No wonder you're messed up," Brad said. "No one's ever given you what you need. You screw around with men who make promises, but none have fulfilled those promises, have they?"

"Some," she said. "I was pretty high up in the firm when Sean Elliot decided he didn't need me any longer. He wasn't too bad in bed. He tried to make it good for me."

"But it wasn't."

She shook her head. "It was just something to get through. I'm glad it's over."

As Brad stared across the pool at Justine, he was reminded of those pixie-like creatures in mythology books, naked and lean, with small breasts and big elfin eyes, and well-defined lips. "Do you realized how much I want to kiss you right now?" he asked.

"You can if you want," she replied.

"Hell, Justine. You'll let me screw you over too. Stop being so damn passive. I know you're not that way at work. I'm sure you don't bat an eye at shoving a figurative knife into the gut of a competitor, then giving it a twist."

"It's different in the corporate world," Justine said. "It's my personal relationships that turn into disasters, even in high school. If I had a daughter I'd never let her be a cheerleader or date the captain of the football team. She'd learn too much too soon," she said, moving her hands back and forth over the surface of the water, sending it rising and falling around breasts. Breasts like Yvette's. Firm. High. Perfect. Four days he'd had with Yvette while pouring out his soul. She'd given him everything. Her body, her compassion, her tolerance...