“Sweetie, let him wash up first,” Letty said with a smile.
“What is it?” Chase asked, his amused gaze shifting from Cricket to Letty, then back to Cricket again.
“It’s a surprise,” Cricket said, practically jumping up and down with enthusiasm.
“You’d better go listen,” Letty told him. “She’s been waiting for you to come inside.”
Chase washed his hands at the kitchen sink, but hesitated when he saw the panful of peeled potatoes. “Who did this?”
“Mommy and me,” Cricket told him impatiently.
“Letty?”
“And I lived to tell about it. I’m feeling stronger every day,” she pointed out, “and there’s no reason I can’t start taking up the slack around here a little more.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me, Chase,” she said in what she hoped was a firm voice.
“It hasn’t been a month yet,” he countered, frowning.
“I feel fine!”
It looked as if he wanted to argue, but he apparently decided not to, probably because Cricket was tugging anxiously at his arm, wanting him to sit down in the living room so he could hear her recital.
Letty followed them and stood back as Cricket directed Chase to his favorite overstuffed chair.
“You stay here,” she said.
Once Chase was seated, she walked proudly over to the piano and climbed onto the bench. Then she looked over her shoulder and ceremoniously raised her hands. Lowering them, she put every bit of emotion her five-year-old heart possessed into playing “Chopsticks.”
When she’d finished, she slid off the seat, tucked her arm around her middle and bowed. “You’re supposed to clap now,” she told Chase.
He obliged enthusiastically, and Letty stifled a laugh at how seriously Cricket was taking this.
“For my next number, I’ll play—” she stopped abruptly. “I want you to guess.”
Letty sat on the armchair, resting her hand on his shoulder. “She’s such a ham.”
Chase grinned up at her, his eyes twinkling with shared amusement.
“I must have quiet,” Cricket grumbled. “You aren’t supposed to talk now….”
Once more Cricket gave an Oscar-quality performance.
“Bravo, bravo,” Chase shouted when she’d slipped off the piano bench.
Cricket flew to Chase’s side and climbed into his lap. “Mommy taught me.”
“She seems to have a flair for music,” Letty said.
“I’m not as good as Mommy, though.” Cricket sighed dramatically. “She can play anything…and she sings pretty, too. She played for me today and we had so much fun.”
Letty laughed. “I’m thinking of giving Cricket piano lessons myself,” Letty said, sure that Chase would add his wholehearted approval.
To her surprise, Letty felt him tense beneath her fingers. It was as if all the joy had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared from the room.
“Chase, what’s wrong?” Letty whispered.
“Nothing.”
“Cricket, go get Chase a glass of iced tea,” Letty said. “It’s in the refrigerator.”
“Okay,” the child said, eager as always to do anything for Chase.
As soon as the little girl had left, Letty spoke. “Do you object to Cricket taking piano lessons?”
“Why should I?” he asked, without revealing any emotion. “As you say, she’s obviously got talent.”
“Yes, but—”
“We both know where she got it from, don’t we,” he said with a resigned sigh.
“I would think you’d be pleased.” Chase had always loved it when she played and sang; now he could barely stand it if she so much as looked at the piano.
“I am pleased,” he declared. With that, he walked into the kitchen, leaving Letty more perplexed than ever.
For several minutes, Letty sat there numbly while Chase talked to Cricket, praising her efforts.
Letty had thought Chase would be happy, but he clearly wasn’t. She didn’t understand it.
“Someday,” she heard him tell Cricket, his voice full of regret, “you’ll play as well as your mother.”
Twelve
A stride Firepower at the top of a hill overlooking his herd, Chase stared vacantly into the distance. Letty was leaving; he’d known it from the moment he discovered she’d been playing the piano again. The niggling fear had been with him for days, gnawing at his heart.
Marrying her had been a gamble, a big one, but he’d accepted it, grateful for the opportunity to have her and Cricket in his life, even if it was destined to be for a short time. Somehow, he’d find the courage to smile and let her walk away. He’d managed it once and, if he had to, he could do it again.
“Chase.”
At the sound of his name, carried softly on the wind, Chase twisted in the saddle, causing the leather to creak. He frowned as he recognized Letty, riding one of his mares, advancing slowly toward him. Her face was lit with a bright smile and she waved, happy and elated. Sadly he shared little of her exhilaration. All he could think about was his certainty that she’d soon be gone.
Letty rode with a natural grace, as if she’d been born to it. Her beauty almost broke his heart.
Chase swallowed, and a sense of dread swelled up inside him. Dread and confusion—the same confusion that being alone with Letty always brought. He wanted her, and yet he had to restrain himself for the sake of her health. He wanted to keep her with him, and yet he’d have to let her go if that was her choice.
Sweat broke out across his upper lip. He hadn’t touched Letty from the moment he’d learned of her heart condition. Now she needed to recover from her surgery. It was debatable, however, whether he could continue to resist her much longer. Each day became more taxing than the one before. Just being close to her sapped his strength. Sleeping with her only inches away had become almost impossible and as a result he was constantly tired…as well as frustrated.
Chase drew himself up when she joined him. “What are you doing here?” he asked. He sounded harsher than he’d intended.
“You didn’t come back to the house for lunch,” she murmured.
“Did it occur to you that I might not be hungry?” He was exhausted and impatient and hated the way he was speaking to her, but he felt himself fighting powerful emotions whenever he was near her.
“I brought you some lunch,” Letty said, not reacting to his rudeness. “I thought we…we might have a picnic.”
“A picnic?” he echoed with a short sarcastic laugh.
Letty seemed determined to ignore his mood, and smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Yes,” she said, “a picnic. You work too hard, Chase. It’s about time you relaxed a little.”
“Where’s Cricket?” he asked, his tongue nearly sticking to the roof of his mouth. It was difficult enough keeping his eyes off Letty without having to laze around on some nice, soft grass and pretend he had an appetite. Oh, he was hungry, all right, but it was Letty he needed; only his wife would satisfy his cravings.
“Cricket went into town with Joy,” she said, sliding down from the mare. “She’s helping Joy get her new classroom ready, although it’s questionable how much help she’ll actually be. School’s only a couple of weeks away, you know.”
While she was speaking, Letty emptied the saddlebags. She didn’t look back at him as she spread a blanket across the grass, obviously assuming he’d join her without further argument. Next she opened a large brown sack, then knelt and pulled out sandwiches and a thermos.
“Chase?” She looked up at him.
“I…I’m not hungry.”
“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want, but at least take a break.”
Reluctantly Chase climbed out of the saddle. It was either that or sit where he was and stare down her blouse.
Despite the fact that Letty had spent weeks inside the house recuperating, her skin was glowing and healthy, Chase noted. Always
slender, she’d lost weight and had worked at putting it back on, but he’d never guess it, looking at her now. Her jeans fit snugly, and her lithe, elegant body seemed to call out to him….
“I made fresh lemonade. Would you like some?” She interrupted his tortured thoughts, opening the thermos and filling a paper cup, ready to hand it to him.
“No…thanks.” Chase felt both awkward and out of place. He moved closer to her, drawn by an invisible cord. He stared at her longingly, then dropped to his knees, simply because standing demanded so much energy.
“The lemonade’s cold,” she coaxed. As if to prove her point, she took a sip.
The tip of her tongue came out and she licked her lips. Watching that small action, innocent yet sensuous, was like being kicked in the stomach.
“I said I didn’t want any,” he said gruffly.
They were facing each other, and Letty’s gaze found his. Her eyes were wide, hurt and confused. She looked so beautiful.
He realized he should explain that he knew she was planning to go back to California, but his tongue refused to cooperate. Letty continued to peer at him, frowning slightly, as though trying to identify the source of his anger.
At that instant, Chase knew he was going to kiss her and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop himself. The ache to touch her had consumed him for weeks. He reached out for her now, easing her into his embrace. She came willingly, offering no resistance.
“Letty…”
Intuitively she must have known his intent, because she closed her eyes and tilted back her head.
At first, as if testing the limits of his control, Chase merely touched his mouth to hers. The way her fingers curled into his chest told him she was as eager for his touch as he was for hers. He waited, savoring the taste and feel of her in his arms, and when he could deny himself no longer, he deepened the kiss.
With a soft sigh, Letty brought her arms around his neck. Chase’s heart was pounding and he pulled back for a moment, breathing in her delectable scent—wildflowers and some clean-smelling floral soap.
He ran his fingers through her hair as he kissed her again. He stopped to breathe, then slowly lowered them both to the ground, lying side by side. Then, he sought her mouth once more. He felt consumed with such need, yet forced himself to go slowly, gently….
Since Letty had returned to Red Springs, Chase had kissed her a number of times. For the past few weeks he’d gone to sleep each night remembering how good she’d felt in his arms. He had treasured the memories, not knowing when he’d be able to hold her and kiss her again. Soon, he always promised himself; he’d make love to her soon. Every detail of every time he’d touched her was emblazoned on his mind, and he could think of little else.
Now that she was actually in his arms, he discovered that the anticipation hadn’t prepared him for how perfect it would be. The reality outdistanced his memory—and his imagination.
His mouth came down hard on hers, releasing all the tension inside him. Letty’s breathing was labored and harsh and her fingers curled more tightly into the fabric of his shirt, then began to relax as she gave herself completely over to his kiss.
Chase was drowning, sinking fast. At first he associated the rumbling in his ears with the thunder of his own heartbeat. It took him a moment to realize it was the sound of an approaching horse.
Chase rolled away from Letty with a groan.
She sat up and looked at him, dazed, hurt, confused.
“Someone’s riding toward us,” he said tersely.
“Oh.”
That one word bespoke frustration and disappointment and a multitude of other emotions that reflected his own. He retrieved his gloves and stood, using his body to shield Letty from any curious onlooker.
Within seconds Lonny trotted into view.
“It’s your brother,” Chase warned, then added something low and guttural that wasn’t meant for her ears. His friend had quite the sense of timing.
Chase saw Letty turn away and busy herself with laying out their lunch.
As Lonny rode up, pulling on his horse’s reins, Chase glared at him.
More than a little chagrined, Lonny muttered, “Am I interrupting something?”
“Of course not,” Letty said, sounding unlike herself. She kept her back to him, making a task of unfolding napkins and unwrapping sandwiches.
Chase contradicted her words with a scowl. The last person he wanted to see was Lonny. To his credit, his brother-in-law looked as if he wanted to find a hole to hide in, but that didn’t help now.
“Actually, I was looking for Letty,” Lonny explained, after clearing his throat. “I wanted to talk to her about…something. I stopped at the house, but there wasn’t anyone around. Your new guy, Mel, was working in the barn and he told me she’d come out here. I guess, uh, I should’ve figured it out.”
“It would’ve been appreciated,” Chase muttered savagely.
“I brought lunch out to Chase,” Letty said.
Chase marveled that she could recover so quickly.
“There’s plenty if you’d care to join us,” she said.
“You might as well,” Chase said, confirming the invitation. The moment had been ruined and he doubted they’d be able to recapture it.
Lonny’s gaze traveled from one to the other. “Another time,” he said, turning his horse. “I’ll talk to you later, sis.”
Letty nodded, and Lonny rode off.
“You should go back to the house yourself,” Chase said without meeting her eyes.
It wasn’t until Letty had repacked the saddlebags and ridden after her brother that Chase could breathe normally again.
Lonny was waiting for Letty when she trotted into the yard on Chase’s mare. His expression was sheepish, she saw as he helped her down from the saddle, although she was more than capable of doing it on her own.
“I’m sorry, Letty,” he mumbled. Hot color circled his ears. “I should’ve thought before I went traipsing out there looking for you.”
“It’s all right,” she said, offering him a gracious smile. There was no point in telling him he’d interrupted a scene she’d been plotting for days. Actually, her time with Chase told her several things, and all of them excited her. He was going crazy with desire for her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“You may be willing to forgive me, but I don’t think Chase is going to be nearly as generous.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she returned absently. Her brother had foiled Plan A, but Plan B would go into action that very evening.
“Come on in and I’ll get you a glass of lemonade.”
“I could use one,” Lonny said, obediently following his sister into the kitchen.
Letty could see that something was troubling her brother, and whatever it was appeared to be serious. His eyes seemed clouded and stubbornly refused to meet hers.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
He sat down at the scarred oak table. Removing his hat, he set it on the chair beside him. “Do you remember when you first came home you invited Mary Brandon over to the house?”
Letty wasn’t likely to forget it; the evening had been a catastrophe.
“You seemed to think I needed a wife,” Lonny continued.
“Yes…mainly because you’d become consumed by the ranch. Your rodeo days are over—”
“My glory days,” he said with a self-conscious laugh.
“You quit because you had to come back to the Bar E when Dad got sick. Now you’re so wrapped up in the ranch, all your energy’s channeled in that one direction.”
He nodded, agreeing with her, which surprised Letty.
“The way I see it, Lonny, you work too hard. You’ve given up—been forced to give up—too much. You’ve grown so…short-tempered. In my arrogant way I saw you as lonely and decided to do something about it.” She was nervous about her next remark but made it anyway. “I was afraid this place was going to suck the life out of you, like I thought it had wi
th Mom.”
“Are you still on that kick?” he asked, suddenly angry. Then he sighed, a sound of resignation.
“We had a big fight over this once, and I swore I wouldn’t mention it again, but honestly, Letty, you’re seeing Mom as some kind of martyr. She loved the ranch…she loved Wyoming.”
“I know,” Letty answered quietly.
“Then why are you arguing with me about it?”
Letty ignored the question, deciding that discretion was well-advised at the moment. “It came to me after I sorted through the carton of her things that you brought over,” she said, toying with her glass. “I studied the quilt Mom was making and realized that her talent wasn’t wasted. She just transferred it to another form—quilting. At first I was surprised that she hadn’t used the sewing machine to join the squares. Every stitch in that quilt top was made by hand, every single one of them.”
“I think she felt there was more of herself in it that way,” Lonny suggested.
Letty smiled in agreement. “I’m going to finish it this winter. I’ll do the actual quilting—and I’ll do it by hand, just like she did.”
“It’s going to be beautiful,” Lonny said. “Really beautiful.”
Letty nodded. “The blending of colors, the design—it all spells out how much love and skill Mom put into it. When I decided to leave Red Springs after high school, I went because I didn’t want to end up like Mom, and now I realize I couldn’t strive toward a finer goal.”
Lonny frowned again. “I don’t understand. You left for California because you didn’t want to be a rancher’s wife, and yet you married Chase….”
“I know. But I love Chase. I always have. It wasn’t being a rancher’s wife that I objected to so much. Yes, the life is hard. But the rewards are plentiful. I knew that nine years ago, and I know it even more profoundly now. My biggest fear was that I’d end up dedicating my life to ranching like Mom did and never achieve my own dreams.”
“But Mom was happy. I never once heard her complain. I guess that’s why I took such offense when you made it sound as if she’d wasted her life. Nothing could be farther from the truth.”
“I know that now,” Letty murmured. “But I didn’t understand it for a long time. What upset me most was that I felt she could never paint the way she wanted to. There was always something else that needed her attention, some other project that demanded her time. It wasn’t until I saw the quilt that I understood…. She sketched for her own enjoyment, but the other things she made were for the people she loved. The quilt she was working on when she died was for me, and it’s taught me perhaps the most valuable lesson of my life.”