His Heart for the Trusting (12 page)
But he'd never
told her that. Not really. And he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it.
Only that he really didn't want her to leave.
With Jonathan
sleeping against his shoulder and Sara saying the last of her good-byes, they
left the Powwow. Hank, Corrine, and the rest of the cowpokes from the Double T
headed out just behind them. Jonathan hadn't even stirred when Mitch put him
in the car seat and strapped him in between Sara and himself. With any luck,
his son would sleep through a good clean diaper change and then go down to bed
nice and easy.
* * *
“You're
beautiful,” Mitch said. They had been back from the Powwow for all of twenty
minutes. Mitch seemed like he was in an awful hurry to get Jonathan to bed.
Sara would have preferred to at least give him a bottle so that Jonathan would
sleep through the night. But she had to admit she was anxious to get Jonathan
to bed too so she could spend a little alone time with Mitch.
They'd met so
many people at the Powwow, so many faces she hadn't seen in years. She hadn't
had much time to talk to Mitch. She'd danced the Jingle Dance and she knew
that he was watching her. Just once, she had caught a glimpse of him just as
she brought the colorful fan to her face at the end of the dance. She'd never
forget those eyes. Never. The way he looked at her, the honey warmth of his
dark blue eyes. He was looking at her that same way now.
“You're really
out doing yourself tonight, cowboy. You must want something from me.”
His lips tilted
to a wry grin in a slow, sexy spread, making her knees grow weak for it. “I do.”
Hooking his arm
around her waist, he dragged her close. Somewhere deep down, Sara knew she
shouldn't let it happen. She shouldn't want Mitch to kiss her, but she did.
And she knew that was exactly what he intended.
He didn't push
the headband from her forehead as she thought he'd do. He just held her,
studied her with his eyes, drinking her in. With his thumb, he brushed across
her brow and slowly down her cheek, making her head spin and her breath catch
in that spot in her throat where her pulse pounded.
“Talk to me.”
It wasn't at
all what she'd expected. Mitch had a way of giving her the unexpected at times
like this. She chuckled.
“What is it you
want me to say?”
“Anything.
Tell me one of your stories.”
Her brow
furrowed. “You want me to tell you a story?”
“Yeah, how
about the one you told today to the kids. Wait, no, tell the one about the
eagle who soared to the sky. The one you were telling Jonathan where he
couldn't take his eyes off you.”
Cocking her
head to one side she said, “Why do you want to hear that story again?”
She inched
herself away from him, but he only reeled her back, close to him.
“Because I like
hearing your voice. I like listening to you talk in that soft, almost whisper
of a tone. It's like a song. It's...sexy.” He brushed his lips against her
cheek. “Talk to me, Sara.”
She lifted her
arms and wrapped them around his shoulders. Everything about Mitch was strong,
from the well-defined muscles of his arms as he held her, to the conviction in
his soul. He made her feel safe and Sara hadn't felt that in a long time. She
hadn't felt the embrace of a man without feeling trapped or too intimidated to
enjoy the feeling.
She couldn't
know for sure, but if she chose to step back out of his arms now, he'd let her
go. And because of that, she didn't feel threatened.
“This could
complicate things,” she said, staring up into his eyes.
“It's already
complicated.”
“I don't want
to...”
“What? Tell
me.”
She hesitated a
moment, felt the muscles of his arms bunch with frustration.
“Don't back
away from me now, Sara. This is too important.”
“I don't want
to feel trapped again.”
He nodded,
locking his gaze on her. “You can walk away any time. I'm not holding chains
on you. I never would want you that way.”
“Mitch,” she
whispered above the musical jingle of her dress as she moved closer.
She lifted on
her toes and brushed a kiss across his lips ever so slightly, just a breath of
a whisper. He turned his head to capture her lips but she moved away.
She was testing
him. She couldn't be sure why, and he didn't seem to mind. She didn't want to
talk. She wanted to melt there in Mitch's arms and let the drug of his kisses
send her away.
And then he
did. Mitch slowly lowered his head until his mouth was inches from hers.
“I like the way
you say my name.”
“Want me to say
it again?”
He nodded.
She whispered
his name in his ear.
“I'll take that
as an invitation if you don't mind.”
“Please do,”
she whispered just as his mouth crushed over hers.
It was
powerful; more so than that Sara had imagined possible. How could two hearts
collide with such force as the bursting of stars? But there they were, his
heart merging with hers. Because she knew the difference between a kiss for
wanting something and a kiss born of emotion.
A knock on the
door dragged her back into consciousness. She didn't want to come back down to
earth and break free of this union. She wanted to hold on to Mitch.
“The door,” she
said, pulling from his kiss.
“I didn't hear
it,” he said, holding fast to her, keeping her from bolting, but allowing her
to do so if she decided. She liked that about him. He didn't control her. It
amazed her how much trust she put in that after what she'd gone through with
Dave.
The knock on
the door was more pronounced.
“Go away,
Beau. I'm not here!” Mitch yelled. She couldn't help but giggle as Mitch
dragged her into his arms again and began kissing her again.
“It's not
Beau.”
Mitch’s arms
stiffened around her. It was enough to make all the magic of their kiss fade
and her heart plummet.
“Mitch?” the
female voice called again.
“Who is it,
Mitch?” Sara asked, somehow knowing in advance that it would have been better
not to ask.
“Lillian.”
# # #
Chapter Seven
Of all times,
why did Lillian have to show up now?
“I'm sorry,
Sara.”
The knock on
the door was unrelenting now. Lillian hated to wait.
“You'd better
answer the door then.”
With a heavy
sigh, Mitch dropped his arms from Sara's waist. It was as if he'd let go of a
piece of himself.
Running his
hand over his head, he treaded to the door and yanked it open.
Lillian stood
there in her typical designer shoes that probably cost more than this week's
grocery bill for the entire ranch. Her hair was slicked back and secure at the
nape of her neck with a bright red silk scarf.
“Aren't you
going to invite me in?”
“What do you
want Lillian?”
She glanced
passed him into the kitchen and stared at Sara who was still standing where she
was when he'd kissed her. She was still here. Mitch was glad of that, although
he knew it shouldn't have made a difference.
“I came to see
my son.”
As if it were
timed just that way, Jonathan began crying in his crib. Sara quickly flew from
the room to attend to him.
“Your son? So
now he's your son? What about two months ago when you dropped him off in the
arms of strangers like an old suitcase? Was he your son then, too?”
Lillian’s smile
was flat.
“Of course,
silly.”
He heard
Jonathan's cry from upstairs. And within seconds, the sound grew louder. Fear
clutched Mitch’s gut. Had Sara brought the baby down? Hadn't he told Sara
that Lillian was capable of anything? Lillian never did anything unless it
benefited her.
“Pocahontas
seems like...an interesting girl, Mitch.”
Lillian pushed
her way passed him into the room and suddenly his home felt so invaded, so
exposed.
“Her name is
Sara, and you leave her out of this.”
“If she is
caring for my child, she's already in it. Or is she here in some other
capacity?”
“That's none of
your business.”
“I have
rights—”
“You threw away
all rights when you dropped Jonathan at my door without a word. What kind of
mother does that to a kid? You didn't even leave a note or word of when you'd
be coming back. If ever!”
“Did you think
that sort of behavior was only reserved for fathers?”
Her words stung
as if she'd slapped his face. Mitch had confided in Lillian about his father's
abuse. Why wouldn't he? He thought he was marrying a woman with whom he could
trust his deepest fears. What started out as the hope of a lifetime together had
merely lasted two weeks before her true nature was revealed.
“I want you to
leave. Now.”
“Not until I
see my son.”
Mitch let the
door slammed shut, shoving his clenched hands deep into the pockets of his
jeans. He walked in front of Lillian to keep her from wandering any further
into the house.
Jonathan's
crying sounded so loud it was as if he were in the next room.
“Mitch?” Sara
said softly from behind. But he ignored her call.
“What makes you
think I'm going to trust him with you after what you did? Abandoning him
wasn’t enough?”
“You have no
choice in the matter.”
“Maybe not
before he was born, but I do now. And right now I don't want you anywhere near
my son,” he boomed.
Jonathan began
screaming, sharp and piercing, behind him, cutting through Mitch like a knife.
But it was
Mitch’s fault.
It was rare for
Mitch to lose his temper. It reminded him too much of his old man and how
scared he'd been when his parents fought. As a child, Mitch would run and hide
under the bed, or pull all his toys out of the closet and sit in the dark and
cry. This time, it had been his voice that brought on the tears. Deep regret
coursed through him with the thought of what he'd done. He wished he could
snatch his anger back. Stay in control.
“I just want to
see my baby. That's all.” In an instant, Lillian's face had changed, no doubt
because now she had an audience. She had the look of longing in her eyes when
she glanced over at Jonathan in Sara's arms. Mitch closed his eyes in defeat.
“Please?”
He didn't want
to, but he glanced back at Sara then. Her dark brown eyes were pleading with
him, her bottom lip trembling slightly. She wanted to hand his son over to
Lillian!
His son!
Mitch's
shoulders sagged. No matter how much he wanted to claim Jonathan for just
himself, protect him from the mother who most surely would only hurt him,
Jonathan was Lillian's son, too.
He didn't want
to think of Jonathan that way. He wasn’t an object to fight over.
Mitch had grown
up with the fighting and had seen his father always walking out the door after
the police arrived and dragged him out into the street. And usually only after
Mitch and his mother had gotten the brunt of his old man's anger.
Then the
waiting started. Mitch would come home from school and race to the mailbox,
hoping to find a letter or a card. Every car that pulled into his driveway
Mitch was sure was his father coming home to him. But it rarely was.
There was so
much disappointment when his dad broke his promises. It wasn't until Mitch was
a teenager that he realized the only person he could count on to come through
for him was himself.
He didn't want
that for Jonathan. And he didn't want Jonathan to carry around a legacy of
anger between his parents his whole life either.
He met Sara's
pleading gaze and nodded once, feeling his gut clench so tight he could hardly
breathe as Sara placed Jonathan in Lillian's arms.
Lillian held
Jonathan tight and looked down at him, kissing his forehead as a mother would
after not seeing her child for a spell. Mitch looked away.
“I missed you
so much, darling,” Lillian said in a low crooning voice.
Fear leveled
him. Mitch knew this is what he feared the most, why he hadn't wanted to open
his heart to his son in the first place. He knew Lillian. She had something
in mind or she wouldn’t be here at all.
“You can't have
him back.”
He reached out
his arms, ready to snatch his child from Lillian's arms. Anything to have his
son back again without fear.
But Lillian
backed up a step, out of his reach.
His pulse
thrummed wildly and something basic took over. The primal need to protect
Jonathan.
“He is my son,
too, Mitch. You can't shut me out of his life.”
“What do you
really want? Because I know it’s not Jonathan.”
Lillian might
have missed Sara's soft gasp, but to Mitch, it echoed around him in a desperate
plea.
He couldn’t
look at Sara and see those dark eyes asking him to do what he didn't want to
do.
Instead, he
held his gaze, hard and forceful, on Lillian. Jonathan began to scream again
and it was all Mitch could do to keep from lunging forward and yanking him
away.
“Hand over my
son.”
“Or you'll do
what?” Lillian arched a thinly lined brow in challenge. He'd once thought
that was an attractive gesture, now he knew the wickedness behind it.
“You two need
some time alone,” Sara said quietly behind him.
“No, don't go
Sara,” Mitch said at the same time Lillian replied, “I think that's best.”
Say, something,
he silently pleaded to Sara.
If you care at all for this child, for me,
then say something.
He hated the helplessness he felt inside. He didn't
want it to be there. It was as if he were eight years old again and hiding in
the closet.