Queen (8 page)

"Who's going where?" he asked.

"Queen's about to drive into Snow Gap and pick up a few things," Cody said.

"You real sure I don't need a guard?" Queen asked. She couldn't resist adding the little dig to reclaim the distance she needed between them to maintain her composure.

"I'll be your guard," Will said, then turned to his father. "I'll take real good care of her, Daddy. Can I go? I won't let a thing happen to her, I swear."

Queen's breath caught at the back of her throat. She pressed a finger across her lips to stop their tremble and blinked rapidly. Will had completely misunderstood her hateful remark. She'd been taunting Cody about the fact that she needed to be guarded so she wouldn't escape, not for her own safety as a precious member of a family.

Cody was in awe. In the three years since his wife's death, Will had been the one hardest to reach. It seemed as if he'd closed himself away from the world as insurance so that it could no longer hurt him. This was the first time he'd come close to opening up and showing interest in other people. There was no way in hell he could refuse the child his request. But what was Queen going to think about taking along a ten-year-old when she needed to do some private shopping? He soon realized he needn't have worried. When it came to his sons, Queen couldn't seem to say no.

"I would love for you to come with me," she said. All the defiance was gone from her voice and posture. "If it's all right with your daddy," she added.

Will turned to his father, searching for the nod of approval. When it came, Will actually grinned and clapped his hands together as he shouted, "All right!" He charged from the room, pausing only long enough to assure Queen that he'd be right back.

She was speechless.

"I'll be damned," Cody said quietly.

"What?"

"That is the first spontaneous thing Will has done in three years."

"Why? What happened three years ago to make him…" The look on Cody's face told her all she needed to know.

"Oh," she said. She leaned against the washer for support as she realized the responsibility of the trust that he'd given her. "Oh, my God."

"Exactly," Cody said. "So… you understand… he can't be hurt… not again."

Suddenly she was furious. "Just what are you expecting me to do to him, dammit? I realize I wasn't raised in the same social circles that you were, but I think I know better than you how hurtful thoughtless words can be. Your children will not suffer at my hands."

"I didn't mean…"

He could have saved himself the time and trouble of trying to apologize. Shaking with anger, she handed him the basket of towels she'd started to fold. Then she walked out of the laundry room with her head held high, her back poker stiff.

He didn't have the nerve to call after her, and even if he had, he wouldn't have known what to say. Minutes later he heard the front door slam and then the unmistakable sound of the Blazer's engine firing.

He dropped the laundry and hurried to the front door, hoping for a chance to wave good-bye. But he was too late. All he saw was the back of the Blazer and the small cloud of dust following in its wake.

He noticed that Will was sitting in the middle of the front seat, not by the door, and tried to ignore the wrench of worry in his gut. She'd already warned him that when she got her chance she would leave. What would that do to Will? How would he react to her absence as well?

"Dammit," he muttered, and slapped the door facing with the flat of his hand.

But for now it didn't bear worrying about. He had more on his mind than whether or not "Aunt Queenie" was a "here today-gone tomorrow" type of woman. The Whittiers were coming. He could feel it.

Queen absently wound the dish towel around and around one palm as she stared through the kitchen window at the scene in the backyard.

She hated herself for looking. She hated herself for even wanting to. But turning away from Cody Bonner wasn't possible. Not anymore. He'd done something no man had ever done in her entire life. Sometime during the past few days he'd gotten under her skin.

To a casual onlooker, what Queen was watching would seem to be nothing more than a father instilling good work ethic in his three sons. Unloading a rick of fresh-cut firewood from the back of the old red truck and stacking it against an outbuilding was not unusual. It only made sense that wood would need to cure before the arrival of winter. But it was midsummer, and even though the air was cooler on the mountain, it was still very warm—so warm that Cody Bonner had taken off his shirt and cap, leaving bare an immense expanse of brown skin. His black hair gleamed, sweat-slicked against his temples, as he moved from truck to woodpile and back again.

Therein lay Queen's dilemma. Should she stand there and torment herself with the sight of shoulders broader than a man had a right to own, a corded belly that looked tighter than a high-strung wire, and arm muscles that seemed to ripple as they clenched, then release with each toss of the wood? Or should she turn away?

"No!" she murmured to herself. But she didn't move away, and the knot in her stomach tightened in answer to a heated yearning lower in her body. "Damn you, Bonner. Damn you."

But he didn't hear her. And if he had, he would have been surprised that she'd even noticed him. Every time he turned a corner in his own house and came upon her unexpectedly, he remembered her warning and gave her the distance she'd demanded. It was the least he could do.

For himself, it was the smartest move he could make. It kept him from thinking of skin so fair that he could see tiny blue veins pulsing with life just beyond the surface. It kept him from wondering if it… and she… felt as soft as she looked. It kept him from digging his fingers into her hair, tilting her beautiful mouth up to his, and tasting the anger and the passion that was always present. Wisely he kept his distance.

But keeping his distance didn't stop the wanting. Cody tried to excuse his lust as nothing more than normal, unfulfilled needs. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman. Obviously his housekeeper was one in spades. He was just horny, nothing more, and if he told himself that often enough, surely he would begin to believe it. Surely.

Queen watched the scene until the last stick of wood was added to the stack. She watched until Cody yanked his shirt from the truck seat and slipped it on, leaving it open and dangling over his jeans. Then he began to unbuckle his belt, loosening it enough to tuck the shirt back inside. She tried to ignore the spiral of dark hair on his chest that disappeared below the waistband of his pants and knew that would be impossible. That was when she moved.

"Oh, God," she whispered, and turned to the sink, leaning over it and splashing her face wildly with cold running water. But she couldn't wash Cody Bonner out of her system, not that easily. "I've got to get out of here," she muttered. "I can't… I won't let this happen to me."

The door slammed open as all four Bonner men burst into the kitchen.

"Queen! Did you see? We cut a whole load of wood. Boy, we're gonna be warm this winter, huh? When it snows I'll show you how to build a fire. I was a Boy Scout. I can build good fires."

Will's announcement dumbfounded her. She buried her face in a towel, pretending to dry it off so they wouldn't see the look in her eyes. By the time it snowed she would be gone. How would this timid, lost child deal with another woman leaving him at this tender age? How in hell had she ever gotten herself into this mess?

"Queenie, I'm hungry. Can we eat lunch early? I worked real hard."

J.J.'s plea did the trick. Food! She could always hide her feelings behind work.

"Sounds good to me," she said, dropping the towel and turning to the refrigerator. Maybe if she left her head inside the open door long enough, the heat on her face would have time to disappear.

"Son, her name is Queen, not Queenie. Why don't you try remembering that, okay?"

By mutual agreement and for the sake of what little truth lay in the reason for her presence in the Bonner household, the title "Aunt" had been dropped from her name; but J.J. refused to give up calling her Queenie, no matter how many times he was corrected.

Once again, Cody's gentle rebuke went unheeded as the boy replied calmly, "No, I like Queenie best. If I had a dog, I'd call it Queenie. It's a good name, I think."

Queen laughed aloud.

Cody caught his breath. Joy completely changed Queen Houston's personality. So rarely did she allow herself the luxury of pleasure that he could only stare. When she smiled, she was absolutely beautiful.

"No, it's okay," she said. "I'd rather be named for a dog than a…"

The rest of her sentence trailed into silence, and she dropped her train of thought, unwilling to finish what she'd started to say. But she should have expected what came next.

"Where did you get your name?" Donny asked. "It's real… different." It was obvious that diplomacy was not a commonplace practice for thirteen-year-old boys.

"Are you a real queen?" Will asked.

Confusion warred with dismay as she struggled with an answer.

Cody wished he'd never started this line of conversation. "Let it go, boys,"
he said sharply. "It's none of our business what she—"

"It's all right," Queen said quietly. "After all, it's not a big secret. It's just… it's so…" She sighed and started over. "We all have similar names," she said.

"Who is 'we'?" Cody asked, intrigued that she'd even admitted to belonging to anyone else, let alone a family.

"All the Houston women."

"All? How many Houston women are there?" Cody asked, trying to picture a bevy of redheaded beauties like Queen… with matching tempers. He nearly shuddered.

"Three counting me. I'll soon be twenty-nine. I'm four years older than Lucky, who's the baby of the family. Diamond is between us in age."

"Wow!" Donny shouted, and clapped his hands on his knees. "Cool names. Where did you get them?"

"From my father."

"The one who died," Will said softly, and slipped his arm through hers.

Queen smiled and ruffled his hair. "Right. The one who died."

"Didn't you have a mother?" J.J. asked.

Queen nodded. "Once… a long time ago. But I barely remember her. She died when I was three, but Johnny had another woman, and another daughter already on the way. That baby was my sister, Diamond. He did marry her, and Lucky was born later."

"So you had a stepmother instead," Donny said.

"Not for long. She just packed up and left one night.
Di and Lucky were real small. They don't remember her. I do."

From the hard tone of her voice, Cody suspected that Queen's memories of her stepmother were not fond ones.

"Who took care of you?" J.J. asked, remembering his own fears when his mother had died.

"I took care of us," Queen said.

My God, Cody thought.

"Was your father a miner like the ones you told me about in Cradle Creek?"

Will's innocent question came without warning, and because it did, her answer was somehow easier to say.

"No."

For a moment Cody thought that was all she was going to say. He turned away and, in doing so, almost missed hearing the rest of her quiet admission.

"He was a gambler."

Queen resumed inspection of the refrigerator's contents. "Who wants roast beef and who wants ham for sandwiches?"

Her answers had satisfied the boys, and her question sidetracked any further response, but it set off a whole new train of thoughts in Cody's mind.

A gambler? How the hell did a man raise three little girls alone, without knowing if or when he'd have food to put on the table or a roof over their heads from one day to the next?

As Queen deftly lifted three plates of food at once from the refrigerator and issued orders to the boys at the same time, he knew he was looking at his answer. She'd done it… because she'd been given no choice.

Suddenly, what he'd asked of her shamed him. No wonder she'd been so angry. No wonder she'd accused him of using her. Her father obviously had. What else could she have expected from a total stranger when her own flesh and blood had done the same?

Cody turned away, unwilling to sort through the emotions overwhelming him. He had a sudden, intense need to walk across the room, cradle her in his arms as he did his sons, and shelter her from the rest of the whole damned world forever. But he knew it was a stupid and irrational notion. Even if he'd had the nerve, she would never have allowed it.

"I'm going to wash up and change," he announced. "Don't eat all the roast beef."

"I'll save you some, Dad," Donny said around a mouthful of sandwich. Then he added, "In my next lifetime."

Queen laughed aloud. The sound followed Cody all the way up the stairs and into his room.

Days later Cody woke up with a feeling of impending doom. Waiting for the arrival of the Whittiers was like waiting for the end of the world. It had long been predicted, but no one could say for sure when it would happen.

He swung back the covers and stomped toward the bath with resolve in every step. Let them come. He would be prepared.

"I'm going into Snow Gap to stock up on groceries," he told the boys when he found them in the kitchen. "I don't want to be caught short when your grandparents arrive."

The boys stared into their cereal. Their only response was to chew.

"Anyone want to go with me?" Cody asked.

All three shrugged, none willing to be a participant in preparing for the arrival of the unwelcome guests.

"No big deal," he said quietly, understanding their reticence yet unsure how to cope with it. "Queen, make me a list. The trip won't take long."

She walked to the cabinet and tore a sheet from the pad by the phone. "It's already done," she said. "I've been expecting you to think of this… any day now."

He grinned. "Starting to read my mind?"

She shuddered and turned away. Not if I can help it, she thought.

He sighed. It was no use. Every time he tried to be friendly, she refused the gesture in no uncertain terms. He wondered why the hell he kept trying.

"Like I said, I won't be long."