Miss Greenhorn (14 page)

BOOK: Miss Greenhorn

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It was almost dark and Joyce Ann's husband was due home when Christy left for her own apartment. She got in her compact car and drove home without paying any attention at all to her surroundings. If she had been, she might have noticed the vehicle sitting across the road from where she lived, and the man watching her from the driver's seat.

But, oblivious, she parked the car, got out, and went to unlock the door. As she turned on the light inside, she heard footsteps behind her and turned.

Her heart stopped beating; at least, that was how it felt. Her heart had fed on memories for weeks. She hadn't taken a camera to Arizona, due to an oversight in packing, so she hadn't even a photograph of him to keep. But here he was, in the flesh, looking every bit as terrible as she did.

He came closer, and she felt her jaw drop. This wasn't the Nate she remembered. He was wearing glasses with silver rims, sporting tan slacks with a white shirt and a conservative gray and tan sports coat. He wasn't wearing a hat or boots, and his hair was unruly and a little long.

“Nate?” she asked hesitantly.

He was doing some staring of his own. She had her hair in a bun, no makeup on. She was wearing a green dress that did nothing for her, and with her glasses on, she could see him very clearly. He looked thinner, too, and there were dark circles under his eyes that matched those under her own.

“It's me,” he said, pausing to tower over her in the doorway, with night falling rapidly over his shoulder. “The real me,” he added with a faint smile. “This is the way I looked before you saw me.”

Her eyes adored him. “I like you this way,” she said softly. “This way, the other way, any way!” Her voice wobbled and tears burst from her eyes.

“Come here!” he groaned, reaching for her.

His arms enfolded her even as his hard, hungry mouth found her own. He held her and kissed her with all the anguish of two months of loneliness, glorying in her headlong response, in the softness of her body in his arms, the sweetness of her open mouth accepting the hard thrust of his tongue. She trembled, and he felt that, and smiled against her lips.

“What a welcome,” he breathed against her smiling mouth. “You'll make me conceited.”

“You know how I feel. I made no secret of it,” she said huskily, her eyes telling him everything.

“And I had to,” he said, his eyes dark and possessive. “I had to keep my feelings to myself until I was sure of yours. My God, you look terrible! Almost as bad as I do. Has it been hard?”

“Impossible,” she confessed. Her eyes adored him. “I thought I was going to wither and die.”

“Same here.” He held her close, rocking her, his lips in her hair. “I suppose your neighbors will think you're harboring a lover,” he mused, glancing around at the other buildings.

“I am,” she whispered. “Because that's what you're going to be.”

“Eventually,” he agreed, lifting his head to smile down at her. “I want you like hell, but we're going to do this the right way around. First we get married.”

“Oh, Nate!” she said, feeling heaven in her grasp.

“I hope that idea appeals to you as much as it appeals to me,” he said, his voice deeper, softer as he looked down into her eyes. “I don't want to live if I can't have you.”

“Neither do I.” She reached up, touching his lean cheek, adoring him. “Why did you let me go?” she asked in anguish.

“I had to, honey,” he said gently. “I was your first real beau. You were so vulnerable, especially in a physical sense. I didn't want to take advantage of you. You had to have time to be sure that you loved me.”

“What do you think?” she murmured. “Do I?”

He chuckled at her saucy scrutiny. “Yes, I think so,” he said, his eyes kindling. “I think so, Miss Haley.”

“Have you had anything to eat?”

His eyebrows arched. “No. Can you find us some bread and mayonnaise and sandwich meat, or do you want to go out and eat?”

“I've got quiche in the refrigerator and the makings of a delicious fruit salad. If you'd like that,” she added hesitantly.

“Oh, I don't believe that bit about real men not eating quiche,” he said easily, and grinned. “It's one of my favorite dishes.”

“Mine, too.” She sighed. “My sister will be surprised.”

“Joyce Ann?” He laughed out loud, ushering her into her apartment and closing the door behind them. “No, I'm afraid the surprise is yours.”

She put down her purse and turned to him. “What do you mean?”

“Who do you think called me long distance to ask why the hell I was killing her baby sister?”

“Joyce Ann didn't!” she burst out. “She couldn't!”

“She did,” he interrupted. “Thank God she did, I was at the end of my rope. Another week and I'd have been sitting on your doorstep anyway. But it was nice to have some advance notice of how you were taking my absence.” The humor went out of his lean, dark face. “I want you to love me,” he said huskily. “I've never wanted anything so much. So will you please tell me you don't believe in long engagements, even if you do?”

She slid into his arms and lifted her mouth to his. “I think three days
is
a long engagement. Can I go home with you?”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, frowning. “Arizona is pretty different from what you're used toâ¦”

“I love Arizona,” she said softly. “I love the land and the people and the history of it. Most of all, I love it because you do. I can teach anywhere, Nate. I have a feeling teachers are pretty important in your neck of the woods. I'll be doing work that will have meaning, important work.”

“In that case, yes, you can come home with me. Do you want to be married here?”

“Joyce Ann would never get over it if we didn't,” she murmured. “But what about your mother?”

“She adores you. She'll look forward to having you around. But I thought we might build a house of our own,” he began.

“Who's going to help your mother and Nita if we desert them?” she asked reasonably. “Do be sensible. I don't have a mother. Yours is super. I don't want a house of my own.”

He shook his head, adoring her with his eyes. “Whatever you want, honey,” he said quietly. His face hardened with passion. “I love you,” he whispered, bending toward her.

Her lips met his and she closed her eyes, reaching up to him. He lifted her and carried her to the nearest armchair, sitting down with her in his lap. The kiss deepened and lengthened, and Christy thought she'd never been so happy in all her life.

By the time he finally lifted his demanding mouth, she was trembling and more than a little bare flesh was on view. He smiled at her with dark appreciation and laughed at her shyness.

“Three days,” he said. “I'll get a motel room and we'll spend every available hour together. Then, on the third night, I expect to get as little sleep as possible.”

She laughed and pressed her face against his bare chest, enjoying the abrasive sensuality of the rough hair that covered it. “So do I,” she said. “I hope I won't disappoint you too much.”

“Well, let me put it this way,” he said, tilting her eyes up to his amused ones. “Having a greenhorn along on a cattle drive would be hard on the nerves. But having a pretty greenhorn in bedâ¦” He brushed his mouth lovingly over hers. “Now that, Miss Haley, is a prospect that I look forward to with pure delight. Enough said?”

She sighed and traced his hard mouth with a slow forefinger. “Enough said,” she whispered.

* * *

They were married exactly three days later, with Joyce Ann and her husband for witnesses. Christy wore a white satin dress with a short lace veil, and as Nate lifted the veil to kiss her for the first time as her husband, the look in his eyes brought tears to her eyes. Love was there, and tenderness, and desire, all three as radiant as the sun outside the small church. Christy lifted her lips to his, and gave him her heart.

* * * * *

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