Suspicions of the Heart (23 page)

Not knowing how to handle his words,
she whipped away from him and dashed a tear away as it spilled onto
her cheek. Unworldly, Fargate had often called her. Perhaps she
was, but this feeling was different. This man was different. He was
gentle and caring, and, oh, why hadn't she seen all this before
now?

"It just occurred to me, I don't know
much about you, do I?" she asked.

"Well now, why the sudden
interest?"

She ignored his evasion. "You don't
drink do you?" She had to change the subject. She always changed
the subject when she was confused and didn't know what to say. Joe
Munroe was a puzzle and too complicated for her
inexperience.

He moved so he could see her face
again. "Makes me ill." He smiled.

The effigy startled her. "I wondered.
Most cowboys do. At least beer. I tried it myself a few times.
Couldn't keep it down. Fargate once told me I was no cowgirl. Maybe
he was right." She remembered the night she had been with Doug.
What a mistake that had been. In fact she had been making all kinds
of mistakes lately.

"I'm not a dime store cowboy, Candy.
I'm a rancher, there's a difference. I don't dip, chew, or drink.
I'd say I could probably handle it better than you. But I know my
limits." His eyes followed all her actions of packing with
interest.

"I've never seen you smoke either," she
added flippantly as though this conversation were going
somewhere.

"Nope, and you won't see that either.
My dad died of lung cancer. I'm not anxious to repeat history.
Personally, I can think of a lot of others things I'd rather do
with my money," he added, his expression mildly mocking. He knew
what she was doing, and darn it, he was enjoying this.

"So did mine," she muttered miserably.
"I stayed with him 'til the day he died. After my mother died he
just didn't have the heart to try to quit. He lost interest in
life. I tried everything I knew to bring him out of it. I
couldn't."

"And your mother? What happened to
her?"

She sighed heavily, trying to remember
some semblance of the woman but totally unable to. "She died when I
was very young."

"How?" came a question that was point
blank.

"She never fully recovered from having
me, I suppose. At least that's what Uncle Roscoe told me. They were
very close, they were twins. Roscoe was always around back then, at
least that's what dad said. Dad said Uncle Roscoe took her death
almost as hard as he did. She never completely got well after
having me. A couple of years later, she died. She was a little
thing, frail, and-- so very beautiful," she whispered.

"Like her daughter." Joe eyes sparkled
with appreciation.

Candy's head came up and she searched
his face, and before she knew what she was saying she blurted it
out, "Who's Lisa?"

She could have bit her tongue out for
asking, but it was too late judging by his expression. Mortified,
she couldn't look at him now.

He had looked a little stunned, then
smiled. "Another lady I thought I loved."

Another? How many were there? She
hadn't begun to imagine. Certainly he must have some lady friends.
The one she caught him kissing that evening she passed him on the
street. The one in his bed that morning. Why had she blotted those
women out of her mind? But of course, how could she have imagined
this man without a woman?

But then what did she really know of
this man? He might have dozens.

"If you loved her so, why didn't you
marry her?" Candy found her tongue again. Nothing like sticking
your foot in your mouth twice.

His eyes darkened to deep pools of
indigo and those famous laugh lines in his face crinkled. "You ask
a lot of questions, Dumplin'. Why the sudden interest in my love
life?"

She flushed and backed away from him as
though he'd burned her. She wished he'd leave before she did
something very foolish - like rush into his arms.

What was this magnetism he held over
her? What made her want to go into his arms? She didn't understand
it. She still didn't trust him all that much, not at least when it
came to her heart.

"Well, it just occurred to me, you know
a lot about me, but I don't know much at all about you. You're
virtually a stranger. All I really know about you is that you own
this ranch."

"That was your choice, not mine." He
scrutinized her. "But ask any question you like."

She wanted to run, get away from this
wondrous feeling that swamped her. But she was rooted, not going
anywhere until she had some answers. "I… I know but, if we are
going to be friends and neighbors shouldn't we make some attempt
to..." Her words began to fade at the stormy look from his
eyes.

"To what?" he demanded softly his eyes
searching the her face.

"To get along." She gulped a sob from
her throat, nearly escaping his searching glance. Why did he stare
at her so? What must he think of her?

He came closer. "You're absolutely
right. After all, we are friends, aren't we?"

Why did he make the word friends sound
like an insult instead of a truce?

"Y…yes. I mean I'd like to think
so."

"Want the story of my life then, or
just a general run down?" He leaned into her at arm's
length.

"It's not important. You don't have
to…" She started to escape, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her
up close.

"Oh, I think it's very important. Let's
get the important stuff out of our way. Lisa!"

She tried to pull away, but he was
having none of that. Instead, he moved her to sit on the edge of
her bed, as he towered over her and explained. "Lisa is my best
friend's wife."

Candy's eyes widened. He didn't have to
go on. She understood how precious his secret was.

"We grew up together - me, Lisa and
George. Walked to school every day, went to the soda shop every
afternoon together, and eventually attended the school dances
together. And yes, I had a real crush on her for years."

"Had?"

"Yeah, had! Then one morning I woke up
and I realized that's exactly what it was, a crush. A silly
schoolboy crush. The only man she ever loved was George, and I'd
been too blind to see it. They were deliriously happy and are now
expecting their first baby. Satisfied?"

Flame-red cheeks turned away from his
warm probing gaze. "It really wasn't any of my business. Aggie just
mentioned her once, is all. You never have, though. I wondered why?
Now, I think I know. I think you loved her too much, too deeply to
ever mention her."

"Well, now." He studied her closely.
"For one thing, you were never interested before in my love
life."

"No, I guess I wasn't."

"Anyway, it wasn't any of your business
before," he growled, forcing her to face him. "But then, I seem to
remember asking you a similar question once, so turnabout is fair
play."

"Yes, and you had a rather strange way
of finding out the answer as I recall," she chided.

"Wanna try it?" he offered.

"No," she shrieked and meant to get
up.

"That's too bad, 'cause I have a
question for you. You know when Fargate showed up; I have to admit
I was surprised. You played it up pretty big the first few days.
Didn't you? Like you loved the fella. But it was easy to see there
was no love there in your eyes."

"You don't think so?" She turned away
again.

"I know there wasn't. And you aren't in
love with him now, either. So, what really happened between the two
of you?"

"I never said I was in love with him,"
she defended. "I thought I loved him once. At least, I convinced
myself I did. But one day I finally admitted to myself that I only
married him because my father wanted me to. Yeah, my mistake. Not
his. That part of it was my fault, I'll admit."

"You father meant well, I suppose.
Probably figured Fargate would make a good provider and he wouldn't
have to worry so much about you."

"Yes, he did."

"Your father didn't really like me, but
I liked him. The man pulled no punches, he was honest. And he saved
my neck a time or two, too."

"Oh, how so?"

"Oh, first time I ventured into a
rodeo, I drew the meanest bull in town. I was a green-necked kid
and thought I could do anything. He had them redraw. I don't know
how he managed that, but he took one look at me and knew I couldn't
handle it. And I'll admit, I was sure glad he did."

"I didn't know."

"I'm sure you didn't. You were pretty
young back then. So was I. Then later, after I'd gotten a few rides
under my belt, I drew another mean one. Hadn't been for your old
man and uncle, I'd have been gored to death. Two of the best rodeo
clowns in the business. So, you see, I liked him well enough. I saw
a strange kind of sadness in the man."

"I'm sorry you didn't get along with
him. Dad could be difficult at times. I should know."

"You didn't get along with your
father?"

"Wasn't a question of getting along?
Dad tried to drink himself into oblivion after my mother died. He
sorta lost his will to go on. He didn't take much interest in
anything for years. Not until Uncle Roscoe finally got him in one
of those Rehab places. Dad straightened up for a while. But we
still didn't get along that well. He had a bad temper and a habit
of liking the wrong kind of people. People that were constantly
taking the advantage of him. He liked Fargate, for whatever reason.
Can't say he was the best judge of people."

"What happened?"

"Roscoe talked him into seeing someone
about investing his money, so we'd have some kind of future
someday. That's when Fargate came into the picture. They got along
great."

"You're really going through
self-analysis, aren't you?"

"Just a little soul
searching."

"Okay, now we have Lisa out of the way,
and Fargate. So, tell me, why haven't you remarried in all this
time?" Joe questioned innocently. Candy stood up, tried to turn
away, but he turned her chin to meet his gaze. "Why?"

For a long moment she stood there
staring at him, her heart drumming, her hands sweating, her mind
reeling. Then she let her glance fall to his chest, watched him
breath, knowing he was waiting for some kind of answer, and wishing
she could put her arms around his waist and hang on.

"Be…because I haven't heard any bells
yet."

"Bells?" He pulled her into his
embrace, and half laughed, half sighed, at her temple. "Oh yeah,
bells."

"Don't laugh at me, please, I couldn't
bear it," she cried.

"Oh," he dragged in some kind of ragged
breath, "I'm not laughing, sweetheart."

His quick endearment made her heart
sputter.

"I can understand that. I haven't heard
any bells myself."

"No?" she cried, looking at
him.

"No," he whispered. His forehead rested
against hers.

When he finally moved away, she got up
and put Aggie's nightshirt on the dresser, fumbling with the
material.

"So, what happened with you and
Fargate? Why didn't the marriage work?" he asked, going toward the
door.

She spread her hands over the flannel
shirt. "Oh, I don't know the usual thing."

"What usual thing?"

"Not the kind of thing a woman wants to
talk about," she insisted. "Can we just drop it?"

"He cheated on you?" Joe asked
incredulously. "For God's sake, why?"

"Remember when I asked you if I was an
ice-maiden?" she queried, not daring to look at him.

"Yeah."

"I was."

"I don't believe that," he came toward
her again.

"Well, believe it, it's true. I
wouldn't let him touch me--after--" She stopped, unable to
finish.

"After what?" His voice grew
brittle.

"After our wedding night," she finished
and turned away. She went after the clothes on her bed and hung
them in the closet neatly.

"You gonna tell me what happened?
Because I'm not leaving 'til you tell me."

"No," she replied quietly. Unfair, a
voice cried inside her. He had confided in her about Lisa. She owed
him. Yet, how could she tell him about something so private, so
devastating?

"I can guess," he began, his voice
lined with frustration.

"Please, don't," she urged.

"You don't leave me much choice,
Sweetheart."

"Let's just say I couldn't satisfy him,
and he went somewhere else," she said in a small voice. "End of
story."

"You blame yourself, don't you?" he
rasped.

"Are you such an expert on marriage?
You, a man who's never been married?" She hurt his feelings, but
she no longer cared, he was probing too deep. She couldn't let him
know everything she'd only reconciled it herself. "You won't be
satisfied 'til you know everything, will you?"