Читать книгу Delaney's Sunrise - Rhonda Lee Carver - Страница 7

Chapter 3

Smooth, warm lips moved across the sensitive skin of Dee’s bare neck and shoulders. She threaded her fingers through Abe’s thick, long hair. Her nails skimmed his scalp. She arched her back. Her erect nipples pressed against his chest. The crisp hair tickled her breasts.

The sensation brought her to new heights. She wanted this feeling to go on forever. She needed him with a penetrating, undeniable desire. Consumed by it, she bucked her hips.

He pulled back and stared down at her. His mocha eyes reflected what she yearned for. Dee whispered his name, “Abe...”

And then he was gone as cold air swept across her bare skin.

Lifting up on her elbows, Dee blinked gritty eyes and stared into the pitch-black bedroom. Her cheeks burned, and her cotton gown clung to damp skin. Her tangled hair stuck to her cheeks. She pushed the tresses aside. Only a dream, but her body tingled, rousing cravings that left an aching wetness between her legs.

As her eyes adjusted, she scanned the dark room. She was alone. Good...maybe.

She sighed and buried her face into her clammy palms. Her breaths raced; she tried to pace them. The lingering intimacy and sensuality left a distressing quiver in her gut. The worst part? That had been the best sex she’d had in years.

The mattress welcomed her body as she buried her head in the soft pillow. Memories flooded her sleepy mind. She forced herself to think about Jacob, but as always her mind thrust Abe into her thoughts with guilty pleasure.

She’d cared for Jacob, but their relationship had been a whirlwind from the moment they’d met. Their love had never blossomed and hadn’t gotten any further then two people longing for happiness.

Dee rolled over and sniffed back tears. The darkness paled as a silver glow of moonlight flowed through the window. The light feathered across the wall. She watched the designs that shifted against the wallpaper. Silence engulfed her in an invisible cloak. Except for the occasional crack and creak of the old house, the stillness settled. In the city, the quiet was laced with horns blaring, police sirens and music. Someone always had music playing.

Her thoughts went to Abe, to his bedroom down the hall. She listened for sounds that he was still awake. She was deeply aware that he was close, yet so far. Was he lying in bed, plotting to get rid of her? She hoped he realized she planned to stay. She wanted to make her home here. Maybe even start a business. She wanted to feel whole again, and this was a start. She had nowhere else to go, no family.

She drifted to sleep with Abe on her mind.

The sun came up bright the next morning. Unfortunately, earlier than Dee wanted. It flooded her room with its warm light, as if telling her the day started early on a farm. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Nine o’clock. She’d guess Abe had been up for a few hours.

She stretched beneath the covers and yawned. A pretty cardinal stopped by her windowsill, tweeting in greeting. “Good morning to you too.” She pushed off the blanket and climbed from bed. The wooden floor was cold on her toes.

Dee hurried to the adjoining bathroom and glared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d tossed and turned most of the night. Her frizzy hair resembled a poodle’s do, and she didn’t think even a good brushing could tame the mane.

Her boots clunked against the rungs and echoed off the white walls as she headed downstairs. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten much yesterday, and her greasy burger had long vacated her system. She meandered into the kitchen, expecting to find Mrs. Graves, but she was nowhere in sight. Dee rummaged through the cabinet and settled on a blueberry muffin and a cup of strong coffee. Feeling a bit like a thief in the kitchen, Dee quickly snuck out before she was caught.

Nostalgia washed over her as she roamed the empty house, looking at the family photos lining the walls. It evoked a feeling of loss and curiosity at what might have been.

Making her way into the living room, she skimmed a fingernail over the stiff bindings of rows of shelved books. Restlessness kept her from finding one of interest. She sat down at the antique piano and pressed the keys. The notes squealed under her unskilled fingers.

Sighing, Dee glanced out the bay window, into the lovely morning. She caught movement in the vegetable garden and peered. A flash of silver hair glinted in the sun: Mrs. Graves.

Heading out the French doors onto the patio, Dee walked across the dew-covered yard to the edge of the garden. Mrs. Graves knelt elbow-deep in the lettuce.

Mrs. Graves smoothed her blue smock over her full curves and patted her silver, football-shaped bob. Dee started to say something, and thought better of it. She turned on her heel. Mrs. Graves cleared her throat, stopping her in her tracks.

Plastering on a smile, Dee looked over her shoulder, bracing herself. “I was just coming to ask if you knew where Abe is. I’m amazed at how nice the garden looks. Have you taken care of it all by yourself?”

Mrs. Graves held up a large lettuce head, gently lifting the outer leaves, examining it closely with a skilled eye. Apparently satisfied, she dropped it into her basket, expression grim.

“Ms. Crawford, I’m not Abe’s keeper. He doesn’t tell me where he goes.” The tight set of her jaw relaxed a bit. “Gardening is a hobby I enjoy. Some of it gets canned, some frozen. I take the extra over to the farmer’s market.”

Dee tightened her grip on her coffee mug, soaking up the warmth from the ceramic after the bitter woman’s arctic chill.

Mrs. Graves nodded at the cup. “You would have been welcome to eggs and ham, but late sleepers miss out.”

Dee squirmed. Why did the old woman unsettle her so? “I’ll keep that in mind.” Scanning the groves, she wished an encouraging thought would pop up from the waves of purple. She used to sit for hours staring out into the tranquil scenery. “Do you at least know when Abe left?”

“He left early.” Mrs. Graves stood from her crouch and tucked the full basket under her arm. As she took a handkerchief from her pocket, she studied Dee while dabbing beads of sweat off her upper lip. “If you ask me, he seemed in an awful rush to get away.”

Mrs. Graves left and Dee crossed the yard, headed in the direction of the barn. The day would be a hot one, she thought. The wash of humidity warmed her skin. The smell of wildflowers mixed with fresh-cut grass filled her nostrils. She breathed in deeply and turned her head. She caught a glimpse of Mitch walking into the red barn.

As she entered, she studied the planes of his back. “Hey there.”

He turned, tilting his cowboy hat in greeting. “Mornin’, Ms. Crawford,” he said, his slow drawl thicker than ever.

She chuckled. “Please, do me a favor and call me Dee.”

“I can do that.” He closed up the bucket of dry oats and shoved it under a wooden table. “Nice mornin’ isn’t it?” He seemed in good spirits toward her. Maybe she did have a friend here.

She needed one.

“Yes, I believe it is.” She hooked her thumbs into her pockets and shifted her feet. She was like a fish out of water. “Can I help?” He hesitated. “Unless you think Abe will get mad at you for socializing with me.”

He stopped and turned his full attention on her. “Abe’s my boss and a damn good friend, but he doesn’t tell me who I can talk to. Have you ever worked in a horse barn before?”

“No,” she admitted. She’d leave out her insane fear of horses. If she wanted to earn people’s respect, she needed to step up. “But I can learn. Where are the horses and what needs to be done?” She glanced at the empty stalls.

“I’m getting ready to muck out the stalls. We do this every morning, while the horses are out grazing. Abe is usually down here helping, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him this morning.”

“He left early. At least that’s what Mrs. Graves told me.” Dee sighed. Abe could hide now, but eventually he’d have to face her. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I wasn’t suggesting that he owns or controls you.” She lowered her eyes to the spot where Abe had been sitting last night. “I just don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”

Mitch stepped over clumps of hay and took something from a top shelf. He tossed the bundle her way. She caught it against her chest with one hand and looked down at the pair of heavy gloves. A strong odor of horse manure singed her nose. She put her empty coffee cup on a nearby bench.

“You’re not allergic to hay, are you?” he asked.

Shrugging, she pulled on the gloves. “I guess we’ll find out.”

They worked well together. After heaping piles of used hay into the wheelbarrow, vigorously scrubbing the floor, putting down new bedding and cleaning out food bins, Mitch offered a cold bottle of water. Dee gladly accepted it and drank thirstily. She hadn’t been so sweaty and dirty in years, but she felt good.

“Well, you’ve earned my respect,” Mitch said, after chugging half of his water.

“I’m glad to hear that. First impressions are important. I’d bet mine wasn’t the best.” One corner of his mouth lifted. Friendly, kind eyes made him appear less rugged. “It takes me at least two or three impressions before I make my decision.”

She could handle that.

After a brief silence, she asked, “Are you married?”

“Uhh...” He dropped the leather strap he was busily unknotting. “No, not now. I’ve been divorced for three years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

“Odd how life can change.”

“Everyone experiences pain. Some get over it quicker than others.” He continued to work the leather with deft hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not glad Edie and I are divorced, but we had to be apart or we’d end up hating one another.”

The word ‘hating’ brought her thoughts back to Abe. “How about Abe, Mitch? How has he been?” She tried to hide her concern, but failed. “Does he sit here and drink every evening?”

“No, not often.” He paused and looked at her. “He’s a good guy, you know. He just needs to accept that life moves on, and realize he deserves happiness like every other human being.”

“He’s not going to make life easy for me, is he?” She feared she already knew the answer.

“No,” he said. “This place means a lot to him.”

“I’m not here to steal his home from him.”

“It’s not me you need to convince.” He tossed her a gentle smile and a quick shrug of a broad shoulder. “I sure could use your help tomorrow morning.”

“Raking hay?” She didn’t mind the hay, but she wasn’t quite ready to groom or walk horses.

“Planting trees.”

“I’m in. I’ll be out after my eggs.” She laughed. “By the way, how many horses does Abe have?”

“Just the mare and the stallion right now. He’s got another comin’ in a few days.”

“He used to have more.” Once, all the stalls had been full.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Dee rolled off her gloves and tossed them onto the bench in the corner. “He used to ride every morning too.”

“Like I said, he needs to stop punishing himself and start livin’ again. But he’s a stubborn man.”

Later, after finishing work and bidding Mitch farewell, Dee walked from the barn toward the house. She stopped as a car pulled into the driveway and parked next to her Jeep. Her curiosity grew as a tall blonde slid from the driver’s side of the candy red convertible and waved a slender hand at her.

Dee squinted and held her hand over her eyes as a shield from the afternoon sun. She didn’t know the woman, but Dee politely returned the wave.

“Dee Crawford, is that really you?” The pretty woman pulled off her wide sunglasses and tottered across the grass in three-inch heels. “I hardly recognized you.”

“I...I’m sorry, but I...”

“I’m Melissa Cartel. It’s been years. We met once, when you and Jacob were at my house dropping off some paperwork for Abe.” She patted her big hair and sighed. “He helps with my business. I don’t have a lick of sense when it comes to the financial stuff.”

Dee searched her memory, without luck.

“Of course, you don’t remember me.” Melissa waved a hand. “Last time you saw me I was thirty pounds heavier with dark hair and straight out of a divorce. I guess it’s been a long time, huh?”

“It has,” Dee agreed. “How did you know I was here?”

“My aunt Rita told me.”

“Rita?”

“Rita Graves. She helps Abe around the place. This is her home away from home.”

Dee’s eyes widened. Mrs. Graves? It figured. Everyone knew everyone, and they were all somehow related. In her large downtown Chicago apartment, she’d barely spoken with her neighbor more than three times. “I’m sure your aunt will be happy to see you.”

Melissa shook her head, sending large hoop earrings bobbing. “I’m not here to see her.” She sounded almost offended. “I’m here to see Abe.”

Dee opened her mouth, then shut it. Were Abe and Melissa in a relationship?

Dee gave Melissa a subtle once-over. She didn’t seem like Abe’s type. Although attractive and shapely, Melissa wouldn’t be a woman she could see him dating. Then again, she had no clue what Abe’s type was.

“Abe’s not here,” she finally said.

Disappointment skimmed over Melissa’s face. Crimson lips turned down at the corners, and she fluttered kohl-lined blue eyes with an actress’s sultry flair. “He’s always here on Wednesday mornings. Did he say where he’s headed?”

“I didn’t see him this morning. Your aunt said he was off in a hurry.” Running like a coward, Dee added silently.

Melissa glanced at her delicate silver watch and groaned. “I really expected to see him.”

“I doubt he’ll be gone long. You may want to wait or call his cell.” At that moment she heard tires popping on gravel and the growl of a diesel engine. They both turned as Abe’s truck rolled up the drive and parked.

* * * *

Abe could practically feel the women watching him as he slid out of his truck. Women’s eyes somehow felt different, like they could strip a man down to his soul and cripple him. The last thing he needed was for Dee and Melissa to get chatty. He had horse feed to unload and books to balance–and unfortunately, ignoring Melissa wasn’t an option. He made his way toward the ladies and attempted a smile.

He’d meant to ignore Dee, but she captured him: a disheveled delight, her hair and clothing strewn with hay.

His fingers ached and tingled. He wanted to touch her. Wanting to tease each straw from her hair and body, piece by slow piece. His eyes dipped lower, drawn where they shouldn’t be. Sweat slicked her damp shirt to her breasts. Her erect nipples thrust against the thin material. His stomach clenched; he swallowed a hard gasp. The air was too cold against his heated lips. Damn. Son of a gun. Her tight t-shirt rode high on her flat stomach, baring a slim strip of pale skin. He’d have to be cold-blooded or dead not to linger on her shapely hips and slender legs, wrapped in denim like a leather glove.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Anger shot through him like a hot iron. Was that excitement making his backbone tingle?

She must have been working in the barn with Mitch. He’d hoped morning would change her mind and send her back on the road.

Luck just wasn’t on his side.

He realized he was staring when he caught her staring back, her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed as if she’d read his wayward thoughts in his eyes. He tore his fingers through his hair and looked away.

Melissa snapped her gum. “Boy, don’t you look like you’ve tangled with a bull this morning. Bad day, huh, Abe?”

He made a conscious effort to soften his glare. “I apologize, Melissa. I forgot you were coming. I had to run get some feed.” He kept his eyes on Melissa, but was all too aware of Dee.

Melissa wagged a finger at him. “Were you keeping a secret, Abe?”

Inwardly, he groaned. He wasn’t ready for this conversation. “Not everything has to be front page news in this town,” he muttered.

Melissa giggled. “Abe, you know you can’t change a light bulb without the town hearing the news.” She threw Dee a knowing wink. “And this is certainly more than a light bulb. Jacob’s fiancée is back in town. People will expect you to give her a proper welcome and throw her a party.”

“I’m not a party-throwing kind of guy.” He snarled and shuffled his feet. He should have found more excuses to stay in town.

“But she’s family.” Melissa’s voice teetered on a whine.

“Not to seem rude, Melissa, but I don’t need a party. I know you mean well, but Abe has welcomed me enough,” Dee said. Abe caught Dee’s sidelong glance in his peripheral vision.

Melissa’s mouth formed a perfect O. “You two party poopers. Abe, sweetheart, if you won’t have a party, by all means, I will. You know I love to play host.”

Melissa rested her clawlike hand on his arm and squeezed. He nearly recoiled from the unspoken, unwanted intimacy in the touch, and barely controlled himself. He started to say something, but Dee beat him to the punch.

“That’s very sweet, Melissa, but please don’t go to the trouble for me. I’m really a quiet person.”

Cursing under his breath, Abe pinched the bridge of his nose. He just wanted the conversation to be over. “I’ll give a party. We wouldn’t want the whole town feeling sorry for Dee because she didn’t get a blasted shindig in her honor.”

Dee threw her hands up. “Melissa, it was very nice meeting you again. I’m heading back down to the barn to catch Mitch.” Dee’s hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. “All of a sudden I have a strong desire to use my hands.”

Abe resisted the urge to pull her back. What would he do? Kiss the sassiness out of her? She’d haunted his dreams last night, and dammit, he’d woken with the hard-on from hell. He couldn’t help but watch the sweet sway of her tight ass as she strolled away.

How the hell had he gotten roped in?

And on top of that, he’d agreed to a freaking party.