Love me ... Again (3 page)

My mind rebels at what he’s suggesting … but he’s right. I shouldn’t stay.

But I can’t accept the fact that he wants me gone. My mouth trembles as unfamiliar words come tumbling out, “I don’t know why you’re treating me this way,” I meet his roving gaze which far from being detached is devouring every angle of my face. I search his eyes, “have I done something to piss you off since five minutes ago?”

I try for a silly smile but the intensity in his eyes burns me, trivializing my effort.

He reaches out to me and midway clenches his hand into a fist and stops. His face is pulled taut with growing sorrow, “this can’t happen Angie,” he walks away towards his horse tethered under a nearby tree.

I watch him go and a pang rattles inside my chest. A little voice in my head says,
it already has
.

Chapter three

“Hey babe, I gotta go back with my parents, the ATV is working but it could break down on the way back,” Jett’s apologetic smile is charming as ever.

Jett’s words break through my fog as I watch Colt saddle up his horse and ride down into the valley. He is gathering the cattle for the next haul of our journey towards their fall pastures.

I pull Jett in for a fierce hug, he wraps me into his strong arms, “whoa there,” he says surprised. He brushes my thick, black hair off my forehead, searches my eyes, his own are for once serious, “did you and Colt get into it again?”

I don’t know what makes me do it but I lie, “No,” my lips tremble. What can I say to him? That your brother unnerves me, makes me feel things I shouldn’t?

He plants a light kiss on my lips, I pull him in for longer, he tastes clean and open. It soothes me. I bury my face in his chest, “I’ll miss you.”

He tips me back, quirks a brow, “for four hours? Are you coming down with something?” he lifts the fold of my left eyelid.

I bat his hands away, “Stop. You’re training to be a park ranger not a doctor.”

“Near enough,” he grins, he gives me a last hard kiss on the mouth, “I’ll catch up with you guys later tonight. Have fun,” he throws over his shoulder.

From across the clearing the other ranch hands are already mounting. I start off towards my own mare and launch onto her back easily. Years of gymnastics and dancing has given me a supple, fluid body. I follow the line of men with Colt in the front as we fan out around the slowly moving herd.

We are going to bunk for the night in a narrow valley with a mountain stream cutting down through it. The moon is already halfway up the sky as I pull my legs from across my mare’s back.

I groan at the torment of my locked muscles. Riding all day feels as if my bones have been shaken out of their sockets. I slide gingerly to the soft carpet of grass and wince. Even touching the grass hurts!

Colt’s prediction of a four to five hour ride had turned into an eight hour haul. Mostly because several calves had strayed and we’d had to run them down all over the valley before getting back on track.

I wince as I try to make my body move.

I see Colt walking determinedly up to me, the sight of him brings guilt and despair. I don’t want him close to me. I try to bat him back, “I’m fine,” I grit out but I’m too late. His tall shadow falls across the side of my horse, then he’s beside me.

His hands find my shoulder, I yelp in agony at the first touch but just like the ruthless bastard he is, he ignores me and starts to knead through the wrought iron clench of my bruised muscles. Tears stream down my face but they quickly turn to ones of pitiful gratitude.

His fingers are like magic. He knows just where to press his strength and where to soothe. I follow the feel of his firm touch all across my shoulders and down my arms. He is working himself deeper into me with every touch –

I gasp and wrench myself from his hold. I stumble away from him. I’m panting hard, the effort has taken much more than my strength. It’s beginning to frighten me more and more. We stare at each other through the eerie glow of the moon which hides like a reluctant lover.

“Why did you do that?” he asks his voice gravelly.

Nausea swipes through me and I want to keel over and vomit, his face is in shadow but I can see through all that. His eyes show what I am beginning to want, “I can’t fall in love with you,” I whisper and this horrifies me because after just a few moments in his arms … I want too so much.

His hands, still warm from me, fists at his side, he laughs but it’s a dry, humorless sound, “What if I told you that neither you nor I can stop this?” His shoulders slump, his words when they come again devastate my world, “what if I told you that for now, this moment, I need you more than Jett?”

His words hit me so hard, I stagger back as if from a body blow, “I’d say you’re a fucking selfish bastard,” I spit at him.

“Do you love Jett?” he demands roughly.

“Yes,” I answer unequivocally.

He takes a step towards me, his face is drawn, haggard in the moonlight, “Could you love me?”

“I … I ” I search his eyes desperately, I want to strangle him for putting me through this! “You already know the answer to that!” I yell and I don’t give a shit if any of the hands setting up the camp fire yards away can hear us.

He advances again cutting the last several feet between us in half, I take a step back, he stops, holds up his hands in surrender, his eyes plead with me, “I’ll stay put. I won’t move but I want you to hear me out, Ok?”

I jerk my head in acceptance.

“Jett called to let me know that he’ll be staying with our folks tonight, possibly tomorrow, he may not meet us until we cross the river and get into the prairie two days from now.”

I’m momentarily miffed that Jett didn’t ask to speak to me but grudgingly accept that I’d deliberately left my phone behind.

Colt takes a deep, ragged breath then plunges onward, “This is a fucked up thing to ask and you can say no,” his eyes are liquid and soft as he watches me, he clears his throat roughly, “give me this time. Pretend for these days that it’s just you and me-”

“What?” I choke out, his low opinion of me cuts to the bone, “I’m not some nasty whore Colt!”

“Stop!” he thunders, swiping his hand savagely through the thin darkness around us, “I’m not asking for sex, I won’t even touch you, just a chance to be with you in whatever way you can stomach.”

He stands stiff and apart from me and it hits me that he’s probably always been like this. Apart. The older son expected to shoulder the entire burden and voice none of the complaints.

My throat is too tight to speak. I come forward because I can’t run from his need anymore. His face is still shadowed by darkness, I reach up, hands shaking, pause for a split second to see if he’ll do anything, he doesn’t move. I brush his lean cheeks. His skin is warm and rough beneath my fingers, a day’s stubble tickles my palms. I watch him from underneath my lashes. He doesn’t hide from me, though I can see he wants too, he’s not comfortable with me this close either. But he stands still and lets me look into him.

My breath catches in my throat at the loneliness there, hidden beneath the strength and determination. I have to ask and before I do I know the answer, “Colt, have you ever been in love?”

“No.” He says simply, there is a sheen in his eyes. Regret? I can’t be sure. It humbles me that he’s chosen me to spend this time with.

I’m beginning to understand and frighteningly accept what he wants from me.

“Why me?” I ask and my voice cracks.

He chuckles but it’s strained, he sobers up and he cups my chin, he looks right into my eyes, “because when I touched you today, I didn’t want to stop. That’s never happened to me before.”

I close my eyes to protect some part of my heart from what’s about to happen. I grip the sides of his face and seconds later I’m in his arms, how I get there is a mystery, I moved, he moved, I don’t know which happened first. My toes flirt with the ground, his chest is so hard it squeezes the breath from my lungs but I’m touching him and for now that’s all that matters.

Chapter four

“Wake up,” Colt’s voice comes from the darkness inside my tent that night.

I bolt up from my sleeping bag, rub the sleep from my eyes, turn to the sound. His face is next to mine, he’s kneeling on the ground, “what?” I ask, my heartbeat speeding up. Why is he in my tent?

“Dress warm and come with me,” he says and backs out of the tent.

Confused but curious I pull on a thick coat, a hat and some cotton gloves for good measure, I’m still wearing my jeans. It’s never warm on the mountains, even in summer.

I stagger outside, still half asleep. Cold air tickles my nose, I sneeze.

Colt reaches to my face, my breath comes up short. I think he’s going to kiss me but he just pulls my sheepskin hat firmly down over my ears.

“Let’s go for a ride,” he says excitedly.

Shocked, I stare like a beached fish, “Are you crazy!” I hiss trying to keep my voice low. There are five other single person tents clustered around our little banked fire. And it’s after midnight!

He laughs and in a diabolical move, he catches me up in his arms. He knows already that touching him brings me peace … and other things. Predictably my irritation vanishes. I succumb to the scent of smoke and whiskey on his skin still warmed from his own sleeping bag. I rest my face against his strong neck and feed my growing addiction to him by taking in long draughts of his scent. I sigh, his skin in so earthy and deep, the more I pull him into my lungs, the richer he tastes. I could literally stay here and smell him for the rest of the night.

And I’m becoming even greedier by the second because I can’t get enough of hugging him. Locked in his strong arms I feel that I will never fall.

He clears his throat, brings me back, his hands loosen around me. My cheeks burn as he puts me gently on my feet.

I look off, away from his eyes not ready to face what I’ve just put there with my actions, “where are we going?” I ask and my words quiver.

He chuckles and excitement burgeons in his voice, “you’ll know when we get there.”

He helps me up onto a fresh mare, my own still needs rest after the long day. He also mounts a different stallion.

We ride for about forty minutes, climb up and up past small boulders and rocks until the ground flattens out.

I pause to look back at our camp. It’s a small dot of white in the landscape sunken into slumber.

He comes close to me, “don’t be afraid,” he says softly, his eyes are on my face, open and calm.

“I’m not afraid,” I say and know it to be entirely true.

He clicks his horse into a trot, “it’s ten minutes up ahead. Let’s go.”

We arrive at a clearing. It’s not circular, more of a rough rectangle. It sorta dips down into a bowl. The horses pick their way down a little incline that is covered with thick thigh high grass all around. Spots of darkness show where boulders sit, lazy and immovable.

Eagerness starts to strum in blood. I draw closer, scramble quickly from my horse. Colt takes my bridle, leads the horses away to a lone tree sitting contently at one edge of the field.

He comes back and stands behind me. We don’t touch. The smell is what hits me first, like a growing wave. Bitter, sweet, pungent, and beneath this there is a peppery, hot fragrance that only the summer sun can bring out in flowers and wild herbs.

It tugs me deeper into the glade. Colt follows me like my shadow. Most of the flowers are tall, they sniff my ankles, brush my thighs. Their pale faces are open, turned up to the seductive pull of the moon hidden now behind thin streaks of clouds.

I stop and stand still somewhere in the middle of the glade. I close my eyes. It’s so amazing. I try not to breathe too loud to disturb the utter beauty of the midnight flowers, the moon and the trees who guard this oasis of natural perfection.

“Do you want to stay the night?” Colt’s voice is softly reverent. He already knows what I want.

“Yes,” I whisper and drag my gaze away from the flowers back to him.

His smile widens and he’s gone for several minutes before coming back with two sleeping bags. He’d come prepared.

I unroll mine in a short patch of grass, Colt lays his beside mine. We bunk down, eyes skyward. A handful of stars twinkle, the sky is a navy blue, gorgeous and ephemeral.

I turn to Colt, he feels my gaze and our eyes lock, “do you come here often?”

“Every time I’m in the area,” he holds my hands and shifts me so that my face points east. His long fingers extend upward over mine. He points at three bright stars which form a lop-sided triangle, “those are-”

“Vega, Altair and Deneb,” I supply and smile smugly at him, “I don’t just text all day you know.”

He laughs amused, “prove it.”

Moments, minutes, perhaps an hour passes as we cover a major chunk of the summer’s sky before I fumble.

“It’s a shark-” I say uncertainly eyeing what is indisputably the shape of a marine form.

“Wrong!” he pounces triumphantly and using my finger which he has not let go of the entire time, he traces the a shape just outside the summer triangle, “that’s Delphinius, named after a -”

“A dolphin,” I pout disagreeably.

He lowers his hand, wrapped around my fingers onto his chest, “I win,” he coos.

I huff, “I wasn’t aware this was a game.”

“Liar,” he rejoins swift as an eagle.

“What do you want?”

“Excuse me?” he asks and he actually sounds bewildered.

I narrow my eyes at him, “what do you want as your prize?” I ask, and my mouth goes dry, I’m not sure that I can give him what he may want.

He surprises me, the laughter vanishes from his face. He fingers soften and thread their way through mine. Mating our hands. A shiver of heat blossoms between our entwined hands, I begin to shiver, trembling in his arms. He can’t help but notice but he doesn’t say anything.

He brings my fingers to his lips and dusts a light, warm kiss across my knuckles. Each kiss makes me shiver harder but he’s merciless. He finishes with a warm, butterfly kiss in the center of my palm.

It’s too much, with a strangled sound I tug my hand back to the safety of my breasts.

He lets me go.

I clench my fingers into fists to stop the trembling and stare stonily ahead, “you shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know,” his voice is quiet, repentant. I’ve wiped out some of his joy. And it hurts like an unexpectedly grazing from a fall, swift and intense.

This can’t be happening
, some inner voice screams at me. I groan and turn away. I pummel the sleeping bag in frustration. When I stop he’s hitched up on his elbow watching me. A sardonic smile plays around the corners of his wide lips.

I wince, “I guess that was stupid.”

“Yep,” he drawls pragmatically.

He turns back to his stars.

I fumble towards the first thing to say. “What do you want for you prize,” I ask again.

“I’ve already got it,” he says without looking at me, then he does and I wish he hadn’t. His golden eyes are gentle now with contentment, he slides a forefinger down the tip of my nose and the embarrassing trembling comes roaring back, he looks me in the eye, “you,” he says.

All the unease and freedom I’d felt earlier comes crashing down and it’s as if I’m lying on a million pieces of broken glass.

I turn from him, “you don’t have me,” I mumble and it comes out as a whimper because now I’d give anything not to hurt him and I know that I will. I just don’t know how much.

He gets up and reaches for me and treacherously I melt into his arms.

He grips me and holds me close, breathing me in like I’d done him hours before. He whispers into the sensitive skin behind my earlobe, wrecking further havoc on my emotions.

His words are bittersweet, “remember what I said, whatever you’re willing to give me is what I want?”

It makes me cling tighter to him, I pull back and our faces are close, his mouth is inches away from mine, I force out his name, “Colt-”

“I know,” he says and his voice is raw. We’re both suffering from a loss that has not yet come. He brushes my lashes catching the tears there, he searches my eyes, “do you want to leave?” He’s trying to do the right thing.

But I’m not. As everything in my heart strains towards the one answer that makes sense however crazy and fucked up. And it’s the wrong one.

“No,” I say and dig deeper into the hard comfort of his arms.

His breath comes out in a small sigh of relief, “Then don’t think about it anymore, let it be.”

He never lets go of me and at some point I’m slipping into sleep and underneath my heavy lids rise specters of the awful mess I’m creating.

I’m in love with two men.

Two brothers.

And I can’t stop it.