Somewhere Along the Way (24 page)

Somewhere in the bedlam wine bottles circled the table, and Hank made a toast to winter ending and an early spring. Gabe thought he might have mentioned that it was Valentine’s Day, but with this group it might not be the right holiday to celebrate. Better to play it safe and talk about the weather.

With females outnumbering the males seven to three, Gabe wasn’t surprised he said little. Elizabeth must have told her brother what he did for a living because Hank asked a few questions about his work. Gabe returned the favor by asking how the fire department in town was doing. Neither cared enough about the other’s work, but to keep the conversation going they both had satisfied their conversation requirements.

Denver, on the other hand, was used to meeting strangers and talked to everyone at the table. He was one of those gifted people who acted like he was truly interested in whatever anyone had to say. When asked about his work, he kept everyone laughing about funny things that he’d witnessed on planes. By the time dessert was served, everyone was begging him to drop by if he was ever out this way again.

Gabe watched, guessing some of Denver was an act. A man who meets new people every day would have time to polish his art. He was almost like an actor on stage going over lines he said at every performance. The only crack, Gabe noticed, was his fascination with Claire. She never directed a word she said to him, but he listened to everything she said, and several times Gabe noticed Denver watching her.

When the old aunts started talking about their quilts, Denver told them he was dying to see a frame hanging from a ceiling. As soon as dinner was over, they took him off down the long hallway to their quarters where a quilting frame had been set up in their sitting room so they could watch their soaps while they quilted.

Claire waited for Saralynn to say good night to everyone and then helped her daughter off to bed. Elizabeth’s mother vanished in the kitchen, leaving Gabe and Elizabeth on one side of the table and Hank and Alex on the other. Alex reminded him of some of the women he’d served with in the army: strong, efficient, and all business. Only tonight, with Hank’s hand on her arm gently stroking, Gabe saw another side of the sheriff. She was a woman cherished, but he wasn’t sure she knew it yet.

“I’m glad you came to dinner.” Hank sounded honest. “It was nice to meet you.” The way he said the last words made it sound like he didn’t plan to see Gabe often.

That was Gabe’s feeling exactly about everyone in the room except Elizabeth. He’d never really thought about it before, but the perfect girlfriend would be a woman who was raised in an orphanage . . . no relatives and had amnesia . . . no friends or ex-boyfriends. Gabe almost laughed aloud at his own joke. He doubted Elizabeth would think it as funny as he did.

Alex leaned against Hank’s shoulder and asked if he’d see her home, which Gabe thought strange because he’d noticed both their cars in the drive. Hank nodded and smiled just for Alex.

Gabe stood, shook hands, and mumbled something as they said good-bye. When he sat back down, he noticed Liz playing with the pie she hadn’t eaten. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just watched her. He liked watching her.

“Sorry about my sister,” she finally said. “We probably should have warned Denver about her.”

Gabe smiled, thinking the ex-lieutenant could take care of himself, but saying, “At least we know he’s safe with the two aunts.”

She looked up at him. “You surprise me, Gabriel Leary. The more I learn about you, the more different you seem from anyone I’ve ever met. My brother likes you too.”

“Hank? You could have fooled me.”

“No, he likes you. Hank measures everyone by how they react to Saralynn. Trust me, when you carried her in to dinner, you won him over.”

“How about Claire? Does she like me too?”

Elizabeth grinned. “She hates you, but don’t take it personal. She only mildly liked her husband. I think she dreamed of a wedding when she was a kid and the groom was just an accessory like the cake, and preacher, and flowers. After she married, he didn’t measure up to what she wanted, so she tried having a kid. That didn’t help make her world perfect, so she told him she wanted a divorce. He got mad and through court battles managed to make her hate all men. When she said good-bye to him, he said good-bye to them both.”

“She loves Saralynn. She may be obsessed with her work, but when she looks at her daughter I noticed her hard eyes softened.”

Liz agreed. “Of course, now, but at first while they were going through the divorce and Saralynn was in and out of hospitals, I’m not so sure. Her husband thought she went way overboard as a crusader to make sure Saralynn got the best of everything: doctors, treatments, new medicine. I think when they couldn’t
fix
her, Claire took it hard. She thought it was somehow her fault.”

Liz turned her chair toward him and put her bare feet up on his leg. “But don’t worry about Claire. I think Mom likes you, and she’s the only one who gets the vote around here. If she likes you, she’ll be asking me when you’ll be back to dinner.”

He didn’t care one way or the other if they liked him, but he liked seeing her smile. He also liked being here tonight, seeing all the action at a family dinner. They had all watched him tonight, not because of who he was or what he was but because Liz had brought him home. “I’ll come whenever you invite me.”

He put his hand over her small foot. “Those shoes hurt?” he asked, trying to think of something to talk about besides how much he liked touching her.

She glanced at the high heels beside her chair. “All shoes that look good hurt,” she said. “Want to go in and watch TV? It may take hours for Denver to get away from the aunts.”

“Sure,” he said, hoping she didn’t ask him what he liked. He hadn’t watched anything but the news in years.

They settled onto the couch in the big living room and she flipped through channels. Gabe just watched her.

When she found an old movie, she cuddled up against him and pulled one of the multicolored throws over them both. Gabe took a deep breath and relaxed. He loved the feel of her so close.

He could so get used to seeing her like this.

THURSDAY, 9:30 P.M.
FEBRUARY 14, 2008
MATHESON RANCH

DENVER HEARD THE MUFFLED SOUNDS OF A TV AS HE left the aunts’ wing and moved down a long dark hallway to the main house. Paintings, many he guessed were originals, crowded the walls. There were also tall shelves packed with books and tables loaded with pots. Just the kind of home he’d expect an artist to grow up in.

He’d had fun tonight. The dinner reminded him of his home in Wyoming. Big meals, big family, lots of laughter, and a little fighting. Only in his family there were always kids. By the time his mother had her last child—him—his two oldest sisters were both into their second pregnancies, and no one except him ever thought of leaving home. The ranch headquarters was starting to look like a little village. His grandfather had built two cottages for his kids when they married. When babies started coming, he’d just clear a spot and build a bigger place for them. Now his grandfather lived in one of the cottages, and the main house had a dining room that would feed twenty-four and did every Sunday.

Denver was in college before he spent a night alone in a room. He grew up on bunk beds, slept on a single bunk in college, and went back to bunks in the army. Now, when he crashed in a hotel every night, he still woke during the night trying to hang his arms off both sides of a king-sized bed.

Halfway down the hallway he sensed someone. Years of trusting his instincts had kept him alive, making him slow now, allowing his eyes time to adjust.

Five feet away, he smelled her. Not a perfume, but more the hint of oil paints blending with her shampoo and the light lavender scent of a hand lotion she’d left on his palm when they’d touched.

“Claire,” he said simply, and waited for her to move away from the shadows of bookshelves.

She stood in his path, tall and still, her head high, her arms at her sides. He could hear her breathing, and it reminded him of a strong animal frightened for the first time.

“Claire,” he said more gently as he stepped closer.

She didn’t move, or speak. She just stood staring at him with those big brown eyes he felt like he might drown in if he ventured too close.

When they were inches apart, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her hard against him. He could see her wonderful eyes in the hint of light and knew that she’d been waiting for him.

Without a word, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his.

The kiss was fast and hungry, unlike any kiss he’d ever given a woman. Or taken, he thought. She was perfectly still against him, making no move to step away.

He pushed her back into the shadows, pressed her against the wall with the length of his body, and ordered against her lips, “Open your mouth, Claire. Kiss me back.”

She did, timid at first, then more boldly.

She remained stiff in his arms, but he didn’t stop. He’d watched her all evening and wished for a moment alone with her. Now that he had it, Denver didn’t plan to waste it. He moved his hands over her boldly as he bruised her lips with his hunger. The need to touch her fired like a cannon in his brain, blasting out all other thought. She felt every bit as good as he prayed she would.

He spread his hand over the layer of cotton covering her small breast and she jerked, but still didn’t step away. He moved his palm over her again and again, more a man taming a wild animal than a lover. He could see her mental struggle not to react, but her body wouldn’t move away. In her eyes, he saw it all. She hated the simple fact that she wanted him.

He straightened away from her, then slowly raised his hand once more and gently cupped her breast again. “If you don’t want this,” he whispered, lightly stroking her, “then you’d better say something.”

She waited but didn’t say a word.

He lowered his hands to her waist, then spread his fingers over her body to her shoulders.

She didn’t move, but he felt her swaying to his touch.

Turning her to face the wall, he moved his fingers down her back, dying for the need to touch her. She sighed as his hands pressed over her hips.

“Turn around,” he whispered into her hair.

She did as he asked.

“Close your eyes, darling,” he said before pushing her gently against the wall and kissing her again.

When he pulled away, he waited.

She breathed hard, glared at him, and waited for him to kiss her again.

He did. Each time bolder, hotter. Each time expecting her to struggle and pull away. Each time surprised when she remained silent and waited for more.

Slowly, she melted against him and his kiss turned tender. She hated all men, and he knew she would have cut a gentle man to shreds before he could have ever gotten so close to her. It had been so long since he’d felt anything, but now the need for her burned inside him and he had a feeling the same was true for her. He’d known the moment he’d seen her that he’d hold her like this.

Without backing away, he moved his mouth to her ear. “Now, put your arms around me, darling. That’s right.” He moved his fingers along her rib cage, gently stroking her sides. “Now, arch your back away from the wall.” She did. “That’s it, baby, press against me.”

He kissed her again, deep and long, with her body so close against him he could feel her heart pounding. The need to touch her skin became as important to him as breathing air, but the last ounce of reason in his brain thought of what might happen if the aunts or her mother stepped into the hallway. This was not the time for making love.

Stepping an inch away, he pressed his cheek against hers. “We can’t do this here. Meet me, Claire.”

“Where?” she whispered, out of breath.

“Anywhere,” he answered just before he lowered his mouth against her throat. “Anywhere,” he mumbled. “Any time.”

She moaned softly and pulled his mouth back to hers. Her kiss was filled with need, but he tasted regret. They both knew nothing more could happen.

He kissed her again the way he’d longed to kiss a woman all his life. Denver felt he’d been searching for perfection in a kiss, and he’d finally found it with a woman who hadn’t said one nice thing to him since they’d met.

“Meet me,” he whispered as she pressed her hand on his heart and pushed him away.

“I can’t,” she answered with a cry, and moved away.

He reached for her, but she was gone. He raised his arms and pushed against the wall as he let out a whispered oath. The first woman he’d wanted in forever had just turned him down. He took the knowledge of it like a blow to the gut.

It took him a few minutes to get a grip on what had happened. This wasn’t a hotel, but her home, and she wasn’t someone he could pick up, she was a respected artist and mother. He’d been swimming in waters without rules or values or restraints for so long, he had no idea how to stay afloat here.

He walked back to the living room and found Gabe and Liz sitting in a corner of the couch wrapped in one another and sound asleep. Grabbing the remote, he began to flip channels without being aware of anything that was on.