Appaloosa Blues (Sisters of Spirit #8) (15 page)

She was as alert as a startled doe, and just as wary.

"I see you woke up," he teased gently.

"Yes, finally." Right now her heart was beating triple time, heightening her awareness of him and the night and the soft fragrant warmth of the air. And of her own feelings. Already she was so in tune with him, she was risking a broken heart.

"You weren't star-gazing tonight."

Jo shrugged as she tried to make her answer light. "Karen didn't give me a chance."

"Those two," he motioned with his head toward the creek bed, "have other stars to look at."

Close by, a coyote yipped and was answered by several others. Jo turned her head slightly to listen, her mind jumping back to her clash with Adam in high school. The coyotes had sung loudly as she rode Paca that night, trying to calm her wounded feelings. "I was afraid Tom would fight you if we went to that football game together."

"That wasn't the only reason," he retorted emphatically. As usual, he wasn't going to let her avoid the issue. Adam was a man who faced the facts, however unpleasant. His thumb had started to stroke across hers, like it had up by his forest corral. Immediately a shiver passed through her that she dared not reveal.

"No," she admitted quickly. "But if Gramps had seen Tom with a black eye—"

"Tom would've told him he got it during the game." His thumb stopped as he clasped her hand tighter.

"I didn't think of that."

"Your problem is you let Gramps run your life."

"I am being thoughtful and considerate."

"Not to me."

"No. Nor you to me. I won't forget that bet." Jo was able to withstand the pull of his personality better when she was arguing with him. She needed some way to bolster her resistance.

But Adam refused to argue. With a shrug he discounted past events. "I agree. It wasn't a smart idea. Shall we begin again?"

She eyed him suspiciously. Did she want to?
"How?"

His dark eyebrows flicked upwards, wrinkling his brow. "However you want. I could take you for a drive...Johnny and Karen wouldn't miss us."

"We can't. Someone might see us. I'm only supposed to be thinking about going out with you."

"Great! How're we going to get from the thinking to the going?"

"It was your idea," she declared, not sure whether or not to reveal just how far things had progressed with Gramps.

His dark eyes narrowed in thought, regarding her as if she was part of the problem. "Hum. Well, it's early days yet."

The nervousness slipped away while at the same time she became intensely aware of his slightest movement. All her senses attained a quality of magnification, and when he unexpectedly slipped his hand under the hair on the nape of her neck, she gasped.

"Still jumpy, aren't you? Relax. I don't bite."

Her nerves did!
Quickly she pulled his hand down. "I wouldn't bet on that," she tried to joke, to cover her action.

"We've stood here long enough. Since there's no log handy to sit on, how about over there." Adam pointed toward the hay field, with its windrows of cut and curing hay.

"I'd rather stand."

"Why? The hay's comfy."

That was what she was afraid of.
Catching the gleam in his eye, she realized he knew it.

He took a step towards the hay. "It's time we followed Mike's advice."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she hedged, her body stiffening. She dare not kiss him again. She was just barely managing to keep her feelings under control.

He took another step. "Getting to know one another better? Don't you agree?"

"No. Not that. I meant...practice." In her agitation, she followed as he took two more steps, then another.

"You were doing fine, last night."

"I was out of things, last night."

 He reached the hay and gathered several armfuls into a pile on the edge of the field, away from the stiff, short bristles of cut grass. When he had things like he wanted, he sat down on the soft, sweet-smelling cushion and relaxed.

Jo watched him in exasperation, determined not to give in, yet feeling silly, standing stiffly above him.

"Join me," Adam said, patting the hay next to him.

"No, I'd rather—"

"Afraid?"

"No...."

"Dare you." The mischievousness flicked from his eyes to the corner of his lips.

"I don't do dares."

That made him laughed openly, tilting his head back in full enjoyment. "Since when?"

"They get me into trouble."

"That's never stopped you before."

He was right, but caution was ruling for once. "I haven't had anyone dare me to do something, for ages," she informed him haughtily. "What makes you think—"

"Double dare you." The childhood challenge sounded natural, coming from Adam. Although logic warned her to beware, she wanted to join Adam and the dare merely provided an excuse. With a grumbling mutter of acceptance, she plopped down on the hay.   

He wasn't doing a very good job of keeping a straight face, so she glared threateningly at him. "Adam Trahern, don't you dare—"

He was laughing hard now, his body rocking forward and back, almost rolling in the hay. "Oh," he almost crowed. "You should've seen your face."

Wrinkling her nose, she tossed a small clod at him, hitting him on the arm. In response, he tickled her in the side and she retaliated.

"Ooooh," she squealed, when she found herself on the losing end. "Stop."

He did, and they both lay on their backs in the hay, catching their breaths which were coming in great ragged hiccups.

"You okay?" he gasped.

"Yes."

"Whoosh! I haven't done that for a spell." They lay quietly, listening to the sounds of the night. The lone coyote had been joined by others sending their wild chorus singing across the land. "Your cuts all healed?" he asked.

"Pretty much. Thanks again, for setting Paca free."

"I'm still waiting to be paid in full," he commented, flipping over so that he was above her, hands on either side of her arms, his determined face a few inches from hers.

She pushed him away. "No. Don't—-" Once Adam kissed her, he’d know her secret.

Adam reacted violently, throwing himself back and to his feet. "Do you dislike me that much?" he demanded, his voice rough with emotion. He paced in a large circle as if trying to regain control. "Maybe you'd better go," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

"Just stay back." Jo rose to stand a few feet from him, her emotions still unsettled. She'd been afraid of this.
If you tell him, he’ll have power over you. But if you don’t tell him, he will never understand why you act the way you do.

"I don't seem to be handling this very well. I thought if we got a chance to talk, and then I thought, well, maybe... a kiss or two...but I guess. I...I didn't realize—-" He stopped his rambling and stared at her with troubled eyes, a bitter defeat edging his mobile lips.

"You didn't realize...what?"

"That you couldn't stand me." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "During the years, you came to me when you needed help. I thought maybe, that that meant.... I guess I was wrong." His teeth clenched, square jaw tightening.

"You don't finish your sentences," she protested. What was he wrong about? As he started to turn away, she caught his hand. "Adam, please, listen to me. Please!"

"I'm listening." But he stayed, half-turned away, back stiff, head lowered, and she had to step around to confront him fully.

With a sniff to hold back the swiftly forming tears, Jo began. "You were always the prince in the fairy tale, the knight in shining armor. When I was a little girl, I was leery of you, but out of admiration, not fear."

"But when Dad—" he muttered fiercely.

"Hush," she said, laying a finger to his lips. "I'm not finished. You said you'd listen."

"I'm trying."

"The night you saved my life, I wanted to thank you, so much more than I did. But Adam—"

"Yes?"

"I was still a little girl, and little girls get shy when they like someone, very much." She let the silence fall to give him time to assimilate what she'd said.

His head lifted and his strong hands gripped her upper arms while he searched her eyes to see if this, at last, was the truth. She met his questioning gaze with her own clear one, nodding confirmation.

The shining hope transforming his face rewarded her effort. "You're saying, that I guessed right? You liked me...in spite of what happened to your grandmother?"

"Yes."

"And in spite of my stupid blundering in high school?"

"Yes."

"All the time?" he spoke in wonder, shaking his head. "Why did you never say anything?"

"I tried. I tried awfully hard. But you would come, and go, and the opportunity would go with you."

He dropped his hands to hers. "And then there was Gramps."

"Yes." She looked down at their hands which had somehow become entwined. "I love my Grandpa, Adam. He's been through too much to have me hurt him, also."

"But what we're doing — trying to bring the families together — don't you think that will help him?"

"I'd like to think so. I truly hope so." She lifted her eyes to his and saw blazing there a depth of emotion that he didn't bother to hide anymore. He looked totally sincere. Gramps had to have heard Adam wrong.

"And you like me?"

That was putting it mildly.
"Well, yes."

"I can't believe it. I've hoped, for so long—" He paused, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "I can't believe it." Adam spoke quietly, his voice touching the core of her spirit — so that she shared in his delight. She felt her eyes answer his with a deep glowing response, making him whisper, "You're beautiful."

In responding to his despair, she may have revealed too much of her own feelings. There'd be no stopping him now.
Did she want to? Yes.
She had to be sure. Gramps had taken those leases. That would be hard to forgive. Jo looked around quickly as his grip tightened. "Where are those two?" she asked.

"In the bushes, where else? Doing what we should be doing." His hand moved to the nape of her neck, thumb feathering behind her ear, sending a shiver cascading down her spine like fog rolling through a mountain pass.

"Now look, Adam—" she gasped.

"I am looking. I see a very enticing lady who is wasting time."

"Who's time?"

"Ours." His voice lowered in appeal. "Don't keep putting me off, Jo. Every time I touch you, you respond. And you know it. If you don't hate me, then something else is causing you to jerk away...and I've got a pretty good idea what that could be."

"That's not true. I don't—"

"You wanna bet? One kiss? Double dare you."

She tossed her head in pretended disdain as she considered the challenge. She'd been looking forward to this moment. "One kiss, two kisses, no problem!" she challenged back.

"No problem, eh?" His grin split clear across, confident now, having all the advantage in his court. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"Well—" she hedged, now nervous.

His finger touched her lips, silencing any protest. "Shhh. Your skin is so soft, Jo, just like silk. So soft to touch." He drew the finger slowly over her lids, closing her eyes, then took her mouth with his, as gentle as a light summer breeze.

Jo responded like a weather vane reacting to a slight change in wind. Adam's kiss was bold, yet asking; hungry, yet controlled. It was the fulfillment of all her dream kisses, making her spirit soar with the tempest building within her. It was wonderful.

Trembling, she pressed herself toward him, demanding both his kiss and his touch, increasingly aware of herself as a woman and him as a man.

He had shaved recently and the fresh coolness of his skin filled her senses, quickening her heartbeat. Adam's touch was magic, sending her spinning out of control. Her breathing deepened, her body responded eagerly to the dictates of his feather-light caress. Wave after wave of sensation created a whirlwind of emotion nearly blacking her out.

Why was her reaction so intense?
Breaking contact, she gulped in needed air, her lips tingling with sensation. "That was one kiss?" she asked, for it had seemed to go on forever...and yet, not long enough.

His expressive mouth tilted into a tipsy grin of happiness. "Sure. Want to go for two?"

Before she could answer, his lips were pressed against hers again as if this was the only place they belonged, their warmth kindling a loving response buried deep within her. Its swiftness was frightening...sending her senses racing out of control, like a leaf in the wind, spun around and blown here and there, while a weakness invaded her body and made it almost boneless.

As she collapsed against Adam, he caught her up, bouncing her high in his arms. "I was right, wasn't I? Now say you don't respond to me."

Jo snuggled closer, not trying to answer, her arms linked around his neck, desiring more. Why had he stopped?

He carried her a few feet and lowered her onto the cushioning bundle of freshly cured hay. The heavy fragrance filled her nostrils, mingling with the sweet scent of his breath as again he kissed her — gently — teasing her with the barest of kisses until she pulled him closer, demanding fuller contact...her hands begging him to continue. Her senses were assaulted by the rich musky perfume of sun-kissed hay and fresh clean earth, while she delighted in the warmth of his lips.

He rolled onto his back, pulling her to sit on top of him, the hay rustling gently beneath. Her hands free, she unbuttoned his shirt, then hers, seeking to draw nearer. The moonlight filtered through the tree branches and flickered over the golden sheaves which cradled them. It touched them with strands of shimmering silver, seeming to add a glow of approval. The sound of their breathing came rapid, irregular, catching now and then.

Suddenly Adam pushed her away and sat up, breathing hard.

Jo lay back on the hay, noting that the ground whirled slowly beneath her. It became solid again as she opened her eyes, bemused, to see him sitting next to her.

"You're all woman, Jo," he murmured, "but I think we'd better put on the brakes. I can't keep this up and keep my promise."