Queen (16 page)

She made a face and pulled his nose. He knew she hated being called Queenie. He also knew she'd never tell them to stop. "Right. Now hit the road, guys. Your dad is waiting. Thanks to him, you get a ride this morning, but you'll come home on the school bus this evening. Have a good day. Make lots of friends. And remember, come home hungry. Brownies… and me… will be waiting."

"Yeah!"

The trio's sentiments echoed in her ears long after they were gone. She walked to the window and watched them barrel toward Cody, who was waiting patiently by his Blazer. In minutes they were buckled up, with Cody behind the wheel. Once she thought she saw him look toward the house, then convinced herself that she'd imagined it as he backed up and drove away.

Queen turned and stared at the rooms. The house was silent. Listening. Waiting. Just like her. But it felt different from their house in Cradle Creek had when she'd been the only Houston left. That house had been waiting to die. This house was full of life. For the moment, it was only resting.

Queen took a deep breath, refusing to dwell on the uneasy state in which she and Cody existed, and headed for the stairs. She had a list of chores a mile long that had been waiting for a day like this. There were closets to clean, windows to wash, and, later, brownies to be baked. No time to dwell on the fact that she was already lonely and more than a little isolated from civilization.

Cody parked on the main street after circling the block twice. He was surprised by the number of four-by-fours and Jeeps in Snow Gap, then remembered what Sheriff Miller had said weeks ago about ski trails and tourists. Although it had yet to snow, it looked as if the season had begun.

He got out of his Blazer, zipped his coat against the sharp chill of the early morning air, and checked twice to make certain that he'd locked the doors and that the keys were safely in the pocket of his new down jacket.

Even though he was no longer a stranger in town and would not be mistaken twice for a thief, he'd learned his lesson about unlocked vehicles and parked cars.

"Hey, Mr. Bonner! Yoo hoo!"

He turned and saw the lady who owned the crafts store across the street waving at him. Wondering what she could possibly want with him, he headed toward her shop.

"I'm glad I saw you," she said, stepping aside to let him inside. "Brr, but it's chilly today. Come in, please."

Cody did as she asked and then waited for her to tell him why she'd called. She dug beneath the counter as she continued to ramble, somehow assuming he would know what she was talking about.

"I have Queen's order. It came in yesterday. And since it's already paid for, I thought you might like to go ahead and take it home with you. She's been waiting patiently for it for weeks." She thrust a rather bulky package in his arms. "Tell her I'm sorry it took me so long to get it. But she was so insistent on this color, and I didn't have it in stock. I had no choice but to order it, you see."

She smiled, darted around him, and opened the door, then stood aside, waiting for him to leave as abruptly as he'd arrived.

Cody complied and found himself back outside in the brisk breeze, package in arms, wondering what could possibly be under the thick brown wrapping; then he shrugged. If it was so important to Queen that it had to be special ordered, then the least he could do was see that she got it as it had arrived—wrapped.

He told himself he'd know soon enough what was inside and headed across the street to lock it in the car. There were a couple of errands he needed to attend to before he returned home. And the longer he took to finish them, the better off both he and Queen would be. There weren't too many places to hide in his own home, and being alone with her every day while the boys were at school was going to be pure hell.

The front door slammed. Queen looked up, surprised by the noise, and then glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was almost noon. Where had the morning gone? She looked down at the meager assortment of pictures scattered about on the coffee table and knew where it had gone. It had been in Cradle Creek, along with Queen's memory. And then Cody came in.

"You bought a new coat!" she said.

Cody nodded and handed her the package. "Mrs. What's-her-face from the crafts shop sent this to you."

Queen smiled in spite of her determination to keep Cody at arm's length. "Her name is Mrs. Eller."

"Whatever," Cody said, and hung his coat in the closet. When he turned back, he expected to see Queen tearing into the package, but she'd simply set it aside. He sighed. She hadn't offered to share her secret, and he didn't know how to ask. He noticed the pictures arrayed across the table and slipped onto the couch beside her before she could argue. Then he started a conversation before she could move.

"What are these?" he asked, picking one up. It was a snapshot of three women standing side by side beneath a tree.

He recognized Queen by the auburn cast to her thick, loose curls, evident even beneath the shade of the tree. Next to her was a tall blonde and then a dark-headed woman with similar features to the blond one.

"Pictures of my family," she said. "I found them when I was cleaning closets. I'd forgotten I'd tossed them in the bottom of my bag when I left Cradle Creek."

"You're all so beautiful," he said softly, and turned from the picture to her and then back again. "Different… but beautiful."

Queen held his words to her heart but did not comment other than to add, "We all have Johnny's eyes."

Cody's gaze caught hers. Time paused, and then Cody was the first to look away. "Emerald green when you're mad as hell, spring green when you're happy," he said.

Queen nearly gasped at the tenderness of his voice and took the picture from his hands, thinking it would stop this intimate interchange. She put it down on the table, only to watch him grin and pick up another.

It was old and bent at each corner, as if it had once been mounted in an album. A man and three children caught in time by the click of a shutter and the blink of an eye. "You have your father's smile, too." His eyes lingered on the curve of her mouth as he added, "When you bother to use it."

"I didn't fix lunch. I wasn't sure if you'd be back," Queen said abruptly.

Cody looked back down at the picture. She always seemed to live with a fear of revealing emotions. Later he would wonder how he'd had the guts to do it. But when it happened, it was so natural, it would have been impossible to stop.

In the space of a heartbeat he leaned forward and stopped the apology on her lips with his before she could say anything else. As first kisses went, it was frightening. No one ever expects lightning to strike at the first touch. No one ever warns about hearts stopping and bones feeling as if they're melting. But lightning did strike, and it didn't go away.

Cody's sanity fell by the wayside, and his lips demanded, turning hard, along with other parts of his body that had no business getting into the act. The kiss was but a taste of the heat that burned between them.

Queen's mouth opened instinctively, and then, when it would have closed the same way, the insistence of his lips made her cease and desist and simply wait for whatever would come. And it did.

His mouth, firm and cool from the brisk outdoors, moved across her lips, which were soft and warm to match what was heating inside her heart. A small moan slid from him to her with little effort as her tongue moved across his lower lip in a tentative but taunting foray.

She shuddered. She hadn't meant to do that… to taste him so intimately. But it happened before she thought. Fear became a living thing as sanity intruded into the act. And both knew that it would take little tinder to start something neither could control.

They stopped as if on cue, both releasing contact and moving back in unison. Her eyes were wide with surprise, and his were the color of stormclouds. He ached. She trembled.

Queen saw the moisture still shimmering on his lower lip and knew that it had come from her. She wanted to look away but found herself impaled by a look she was too cowardly to decipher.

"Please," he finally whispered, "learn to trust me. I need you, lady, but I won't push. And I promise I won't let you down."

He got up from the couch and left the room without looking back. Seconds later Queen heard the front door open and shut. Her heart skipped a beat. Had she angered him so much by remaining silent that he was walking out on her? But her question was answered moments later when she heard the door reopen and heard him call out as he headed for the kitchen.

"I brought pizza," he called. "No anchovies. No black olives. Hurry up! I'm hungry as hell."

Her legs moved of their own accord. She was too overwhelmed by what had just occurred to realize that once again Cody had changed the menu of their relationship. She was about to get a demonstration in how one went from passion to pizza in one easy lesson.

She would have smiled. But it might have stayed on her face too long and given someone the wrong idea. Instead she simply followed his lead, played cool when she was nearly at meltdown point, and fixed them something to drink.

Less than a month into the new school year, it snowed. A light dusting that didn't entirely cover the ground. But it was enough to send spasms of joy throughout the Bonner household. For kids who'd spent most of their life in Florida, snow was a rare thing to see.

For Queen it was like a whitewash over old wounds. A fresh beginning for her as well.

"Can we stay home?" Donny asked during breakfast.

Cody laughed. "Not on your life, buster. School first, play later. Besides, by what I hear from Abel Miller, you'll get more than a bellyful of snow before it's over."

Cody and the sheriff had become good friends and had even gone hunting together once, using the afternoon excursion as an excuse to traipse over his heavily wooded property with someone who'd keep him from getting lost. They hadn't even taken their guns off of safety, but they'd traded enough stories and theories to know that they were two of a land.

Donny grinned at his father's answer as he and his brothers left the kitchen to get their coats and backpacks. He knew it had been a stupid question, but being the kid that he was, he had felt compelled to ask.

"Had to give it the old Bonner try," he said, and laughed and ducked when his father swung at him with a sofa pillow..

Excited by the advent of snow and the fact that their father had tossed the first blow, the other two boys promptly joined in, pillows swinging, shrieks bouncing off the walls in the rooms below.

Queen stood at the head of the stairs and looked down at the melee of male arms and legs and the bodies rolling wildly around on the living room floor, and she wished she had the guts to join in.

Even Will had cut loose and was giggling hysterically as he tried unsuccessfully to unwind himself from beneath the pile-up.

"It's almost time for the bus," Queen said, and then ducked when a pillow came flying up the stairs at her, striking her in the belly. She looked down in shock and saw Cody brushing at his hair and clothes in an effort to remove the bits of foam and feathers that had escaped the pillows.

"Sorry," he said, grinning, "it was a misguided missile."

"Oh, sure." She tossed the pillow back onto the sofa and gave him a sarcastic look, then went down the stairs and started pulling coats from hooks and assembling books and bags.

"Tuck in your shirts and comb your hair," she said, eyeing the boys' disheveled state.

"Yes, ma'am," they all said in unison.

Queen tried not to grin at the fact that Cody was playing along, acting the child by complying with her order along with his sons.

In a flurry of giggles and belated pokes and punches, the boys ran out the door. Cody watched them flying down the driveway as the roof of the big yellow school bus topped the hill below his house.

"They'll just about make it," he said, and then turned and stared at Queen, who was leaning against the door with a faraway look on her face. He cupped her face with shaky hands and wiggled her chin to get her attention. "Where were you, lady?"

She looked up at him in confusion.

"Just then, where did you go? Don't tell me nowhere, because I saw you leave."

She stepped out of his arms and looked away, trying to think of a safe way to answer. With him, there was none.

Cody saw her shudder. "Queen?" Concern deepened his voice.

"They're so lucky," she said.

"What do you mean?"

She stared down at the floor, absently noting that feathers had collected in the small crack against the baseboard. Time and silence hung between them, and still he waited. She knew she should have expected it. Cody Bonner wasn't the kind to give up.

Something inside her cracked, and then broke, and she felt an anchor around her heart tug and turn loose. She straightened, tilted her head, and looked directly into his eyes.

"Meaning… they're lucky because they have you," she said, and walked away.

Yes, and you could, too, if you'd give it half a chance, Cody thought. But he didn't have to say it. It was obvious that she already knew.

Enough snow had accumulated by the weekend for the boys to play in it. Drawn by the pristine whiteness of the powdery fall and their pleas, Queen found herself in the middle of it all, dusted with remnants from snowballs, numb from the wet and the cold, and having the time of her life.

She would wonder later if coming to Colorado had somehow shifted her center of gravity. It seemed that on Cody's mountain she was doomed to be flat on her back whenever meeting a man.

The boys were in the middle of a snowball battle and had disappeared to the backyard and the thicker cover of trees behind which to hide. Queen was in the midst of making her fourth snow angel when the shadow crossed her face.

She looked up, imagined that she saw a man in uniform silhouetted against the brilliant sky, and blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision enough to see if she was hallucinating. Then she heard his voice and knew he was real, and she thanked God that at least this time she hadn't been beneath a truck leaking oil.