Slow Fever (15 page)

“When I’m ready.” He could be so lovely one minute and unbelievable the next. Kylie sighed and allowed the brimming tears to drop into her pie. She stirred them into
the sweet mixture, not hungry for anything but Michael’s arms. She’s asked him for a date, but then in Freedom Valley, any woman could ask for dates, a custom usually reserved for men. She’d planned to work up to more dates and asking him for the last dance, another custom to define the man a woman chose as a husband. He’d just swept right ahead into asking for her—without her knowledge. He’d acted like an old-fashioned drover that day, riding into town with her on the back of his horse. He’d made her choose him there in the frost and the steam from the prancing horses, in front of men she’d known all her life.
And she hadn’t known he was asking for her!

The next call, she heard the rasp of his morning stubble against the telephone as the machine took his message. “We just need some fine-tuning. I’m not going to apologize for speaking for you. Look, maybe it is a little quick. You’re making a new life. I want to be part of it. It seems to me that we’ve wasted enough time. Answer this call, Kylie. I’ve got to go and I want this settled.”

His temper and frustration were brewing and so were hers.

The morning after making love with Michael, she should have been still in his arms, locked away from the world. But she wasn’t. She was dealing with the wasted past and the future and tumbling emotions she hadn’t expected. She’d wanted to be feminine for Michael and he hadn’t seen her in anything but sweat clothes and jeans. She’d given little to the customs of Freedom Valley and Michael had taken steps that she knew had cost him. He wasn’t a man to explain his feelings and that’s what the Women’s Council would have demanded of him. She should have been supportive, encouraging him, and he hadn’t let her. Kylie ignored another call from him, noting the desperation. “I’ve got to go away, Kylie. We’ve got to talk.”

She jerked up the telephone. “Hey, buddy. You’re a little late with that offer. I trusted you. You missed a step or two. Like a discussion with me.”

“I haven’t had that much experience, dear heart. Give me a break.” His impatience rasped over the line. “I need to see you.”

There was a long thoughtful pause and then Michael noted slowly, “It’s because you aren’t directing the relationship, because you like to be in control and you weren’t, isn’t it?”

She’d always had to take charge of decisions, be responsible for both herself and Leon. But the word “control” snagged.

“Now, get this, princess. I’m not your ex-husband. I know this happened fast, but— If you need time to transfer—”

“Transfer?
Transfer?
Like in ownership papers?” she demanded sharply. She’d never experienced the heights of ecstasy that Michael had given her, and he had just used business language to define what ran hot between them. “I could have worn a dress that day, Michael. It’s a big day in a girl’s life when a man goes before the Women’s Council.”

“A dress? What’s that got to do with anything?” His frustration rasped through the line.

She wanted to be romantic, to be feminine and to please him. She’d been known as a tomboy most of her life, and now she wanted all of Freedom Valley to know that Michael had chosen a feminine woman. She knew that wasn’t the important part of a relationship, that her logic had to do with Leon’s insults. Yet silly and frivolous, it was important to her. “Some things are important, Michael. You’ve never seen me in a dress.”

“Well, hell,” he muttered, as if trying to place Venus in
alignment with Mars and the New York Mets in the Pee Wee children’s leagues.

“The pie is good,” she said, because in Freedom Valley, manners were important. Then she disconnected the line, which wasn’t exactly sweet.

Kylie scanned the shadows of her mother’s home, always so safe and warm, and knew it was time to examine her own life, to give Michael the tenderest part of herself. Were the dreams of filling her own home still there? The ones she’d placed in her hope chest and ignored for years? Was this how her mother had felt long ago, courted by her father?

She took his pie into the kitchen, placing it in her mother’s pie safe. Was it true that when a girl in Freedom Valley embroidered and dreamed of love and a home all her own, that dream would come true?

Kylie rose up the steps to her bedroom, carefully removed her childhood dolls and the doily covering her hope chest. Neatly folded above her own work were three baby blankets her mother had made, the stitches tiny and placed with love. Kylie drew them out, hugged them close against her, then reached for the envelope marked “Kylie, my youngest.”

The lovely paper shook in Kylie’s hands as she read. “Kylie. If you are reading this, you’ve come home. I hope to see your face when you see the blankets I’ve made for my grandchildren. Miranda and Tanner each have their own and I made three for each of you, as a reminder of how close all of you were, my dear children. Instincts move you and that is good because you sense what is right. Trust yourself, Kylie, and what is beautiful and giving in your heart. You live with laughter and, in you, I see a part of myself, the need to heal and give to others. Treasure most of all, who you are and what you bring to your love. Unless
all the signs are wrong, one man has given his heart to you long ago and I venture to say, he’ll fill these blankets soon enough, once you agree. You were made to be cherished and loved and to fill a home with happiness and a family. When love really comes to you, it will sweep you off your feet and you’ll claim him for your own before he has a chance to escape. Kiss my grandchildren for me, Kylie, and know that I am with you always. I love you. Mom.”

An hour later, Karolina threw pebbles against Kylie’s upstairs window. With a groan, Kylie knew her friend wouldn’t be ignored. Only a few years ago, Karolina had climbed up that big oak tree beside the house and crawled across a limb. Kylie scrubbed away her tears, her mother’s journals spread on the bed beside her, each one telling of Anna’s love of her family and the people in Freedom Valley. “Men are rogues,” her mother had written, as if she’d been thinking of Michael. “Boys and men and beasts in one mad frustrating package. Tenderness can be shielded, and sometimes it’s up to us to make sense of their maddening ways. It’s for women to sort out how men touch our hearts and what runs true within us.”

Downstairs, Kylie jerked open the door for her friend. “I’m having a conversation with Mom. Go away.”

Karolina, hunched against the cold wind, blinked. “Huh?”

She recovered quickly, shoving past Kylie. “You’ve been crying. I knew it. I just knew that jerk would hurt you. He’s leaving now. Just slid out of town in that big black rig of his, like he does when he brings back one of his women.”

“They are his friends,” Kylie managed through a throat clogged with tears.

“You’re defending him? You don’t even want to know what he does when he’s away? Come on, let’s follow him.”

Half an hour later, Kylie grumbled, “I don’t know why I let you talk me into things.”

She huddled in the passenger seat of Karolina’s tiny car. If Michael were headed for another woman, that meant that she hadn’t satisfied him. She didn’t know if she could bear the blow to her pride. “Have you thought of getting another hobby, Karolina?”

“Grump. That’s his taillights up there and his license plate. Now all we have to do is follow him.”

Four hours later, the small town in Wyoming gleamed wet beneath the streetlights. In a shabby neighborhood, Michael’s four-wheeler pulled into a small, overgrown driveway, near a tiny house. Karolina turned off her headlamps and pulled onto the opposite side of the street. “Good view.”

“I don’t like this.” What was Michael doing? Why had he driven here? What if he did have another woman, coming to her after making love to Kylie? She couldn’t bear to see him hold another woman, to kiss her.

Beaded by rain, another late model car was parked beside a battered pickup. The house lights were all on, outlining the woman who ran to meet him. In the dim light her face was hauntingly beautiful, framed by long glossy hair. He hugged her briefly and a fist clenched around Kylie’s heart as Michael’s head bent intimately to the woman’s. From the concealing shadows of brush, Kylie watched Michael and the woman walk up the steps. A man jerked open the door and from the raging set of his powerful body, he was angry. He rammed a punch at Michael and somehow Michael dragged him from the steps as the woman entered the house.

Kylie had never seen pure rage, pure anger, a bully tear
ing after Michael. She couldn’t move, her heart bloodless. Michael easily sidestepped the beefier man’s blows, and with one cutting motion of his hand took the bully to the wet ground. The man lunged to his feet, pounding at Michael, who moved agilely aside. Even in the dim light, and inexperienced in viewing brawls, Kylie noted the back alley standards of the man. She shivered, unable to move, realizing suddenly how Michael had lived, how he’d survived. An experienced fighter, Michael easily stepped aside to down the man again. In the dim light, Michael’s face was harsh as he crouched beside the man, speaking to him. The violence in his expression terrified her.

Then the woman came out, sheltering another heavily pregnant woman within her arms, easing her into Michael’s vehicle. While Michael continued to talk to the man, the woman ran back into the house, carrying out two suitcases. Michael rose and took them from her, easily hefting them into the rear of his vehicle. The beautiful woman stood near and protective as he made another trip into the house, returning with two small boxes. Then he turned to the man struggling to his feet. The look on Michael’s face was cold and deadly as he placed his boot on the man’s throat. The man nodded when Michael stopped speaking.

Kylie swiped at the tears in her eyes. The scene explained itself: a woman needed protecting and Michael was there for her. He’d told her of his sister, Lily—how she’d died unprotected. This was what Michael did in remembrance of Lily. Michael’s fierce expression, the efficient movements of his body, told her that he was well trained in brawling. Yet he’d handled her so carefully, the effort costing him, the tension running through his expression and his body. She hadn’t fully realized how powerful and lethal he could be, yet with her—

As if they’d run through the same savage scenario many
times before, the beautiful, stately woman nodded and slid into her car, driving away. Michael backed away from the house and Karolina’s excited speculations ran throughout the four hours to Freedom Valley. Finally, Kylie had enough. It had taken her a full hour to recover from the violence at that small house. This was the man he didn’t want her to see, the violent man ready to protect an endangered woman. He didn’t want her to see what lurked in his past, and Kylie bit her lip, remembering the wounds on his body. He’d held her reverently in the night, his body trembling, holding that full primitive violence away from her, because he was afraid he would be like his father, a brute.

“Oh, Michael, you could never be that,” she whispered as the windshield wipers
click-clacked
through the memories of his lovemaking. He’d feared hurting her, not trusting himself. “When we get to Michael’s, you are to let me off and you are to go home and say nothing.”

Michael had known he was being followed and he suspected Karolina was the culprit. He didn’t have time to stop and challenge her; he had to take care of the woman he’d retrieved. Michael’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Jeanne’s contractions had started and Dr. Thomas White was on his way. At Michael’s house, he eased Jeanne from the car and carried her into the house. He glanced at the lights veering off the road, outlining the woman running to him.

“This is Jeanne,” he said quietly as Kylie hurried after him into the guest room. Her eyes were wide and he recognized the quivering edge of shock. He had no time to explain. How could he? How could he tell her that he was best suited to destroy? “She needs help. Her baby is coming now, too fast, and it’s her first. Her water broke earlier, the contractions close together. She’s probably already di
lated. She didn’t want to stop at a hospital. Rosa told her she would be safe with me.”

Once she’d heard the woman cry out, Kylie hadn’t asked questions. She’d simply acted just as Anna had, moving to give comfort. She squeezed Michael’s arm and searched his hard face, finding the fear in it that he would fail. “Michael, I saw everything at the house. That man— She needs a doctor.”

He closed his eyes for one brief heartbeat. He’d known there was another person in Karolina’s vehicle, but he’d prayed it wasn’t Kylie. He’d been followed by Karolina before, and he knew that if he’d walked toward them, she would have squealed her tires, sailing off into the night. He’d had no time to deal with his fears then, because Jeanne’s husband had come at him, raging and cursing. Kylie had seen what he was—who he was, tough, savage, too skillful at fighting.

“A doctor is on the way, but I can do the job, barring complications. Your mother taught me and Dr. Thomas White has his own reasons for helping. He’s driving here now, and we’ll be talking over the telephone,” Michael returned grimly as he placed the woman on the bed. In her pain, Jeanne batted at his hands, and showing more age than his years, Michael turned to Kylie. “She doesn’t want a man’s hands on her.”

“Hello, Jeanne. I’m Kylie,” her voice ran smooth and warm as she gently pushed Michael from the room. She undressed Jeanne and slid a gown onto her bruised body. When Michael reentered the room, his expression concerned and frustrated, Kylie understood instantly. “Because of your sister?”

He nodded grimly. “Lily married the same kind of man as my father. Restraining orders don’t always work. That’s where Rosa and I come in. If everything else fails, we move
to save the woman’s life and give her a new one. All we can do is make the offer, but it has to be her decision. There are others helping along the way.”

Jeanne cried out and her hand tightened painfully on Kylie’s. “Well, then. We’ve got work to do, don’t we, Jeanne? You know, at one time my mother brought most of the babies into Freedom Valley. She was a midwife and a good one, too. People tell me I’m like her and that’s why I know that you and I are going to do a good job with this baby. My mother taught Michael, too, and he’s not going to let anything happen to you or your baby. A doctor will be here soon, and we can call him at any time,” Kylie murmured quietly, smoothing back the woman’s damp hair. She began to massage Jeanne’s swollen belly, amazed at the new life waiting to be born. “Soon you’ll have a tiny part of you, the best part, to hold and to love and your baby will be safe.”