One From The Heart (18 page)

“Ernie?” she called when she didn’t immediately see him. She was cold, and she swung her duffel bag to the other shoulder so she could reach the switch near the door. The lamps came on, and she stood blinking until her eyes adjusted to the light.

Ernie looked at her gravely. He must have only just come in, and he took off his hat and put it on the piano. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking and once again she found herself having to wait.

“I … didn’t think you’d be here,” he said after what seemed an eternity.

“I didn’t think I’d be here, either,” she answered truthfully.

She stood rooted to the spot, loving him, despite the hopelessness of their situation, loving his husky voice and his sad eyes that searched hers, then went to the duffel bag she was still carrying.

He took a few steps closer. “I guess you were leaving.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. She had lied to him before, but she wasn’t going to lie to him now. And, Lord, she wanted to touch him. He looked so tired and so sad.

“Why?”

“Scared, I guess,” she answered, still being truthful.

He smiled, the shy smile that always set her heart to pounding and turned her knees to mush. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty scared myself. You hungry?”

She made a gesture with her hand that was neither yes or no.

“Me either,” he said, his voice going softer, huskier still. “You … going to come over here, then? I’d come over there, but my knee’s killing me, and besides that, I don’t know if you want me over there or not. I can’t tell by looking at you—except that you’re … not happy right now, and I don’t know if I can do anything about that or not.” He stopped talking when she dropped her duffel bag on the floor.

They stood staring at each other across the room.

“The hell with the knee,” he decided, limping the distance between them. He stopped just short of touching her, his eyes traveling over her face. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“I’ve got freckles,” she was quick to remind him, and he smiled again, making a gesture as if to touch her face, but not completing it, letting his hand fall to his side instead.

“Beautiful and special,” he said, his eyes holding hers.

Oh, Lord
, she thought.
This is where he tells me I’m a fine woman, but he’s staying with Elizabeth
.

“Ernie—”

“Hannah, put your arms around me,” he interrupted. “Will you do that?” His eyes still held hers, and she hesitated only a moment before she reached out for him, holding him tightly and pressing her face into his shirt so she could breathe in his heady masculine scent.

“Yes, I’ll do that,” she said, closing her eyes in relief because he hadn’t said the words she’d expected and savoring his long sigh. Oh, he smelled so good to her, felt so good. They had a thousand things to talk about, to settle, and she didn’t care about any of them. He was here, and that was all that mattered to her.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he whispered. “I thought I’d messed up everything.”

“Ernie, we have to talk,” she said in spite of what she was feeling.

“Not now, Hannah.”

“Ernie, I want to know about Elizabeth.”

She meant that, and he knew it. He leaned back so he could see her face. “I took her to Tulsa.”

“Tulsa,” Hannah repeated.

He stepped away from her, as if he could tell her better if they weren’t touching. He stood in the middle of the room, in his familiar thumbs-hooked-in-jeans-pockets stance. But eye contact between them was just as unsettling, and he looked away. “To the City of Faith Medical Center. There’s a doctor there—he rides the rodeo sometimes. I thought he could help her get herself together, and I talked her into going—pretty much over Jake’s dead body.”

“This doctor—can he help her?”

“He can if she’ll stop flying off in ten different directions. She’s going to lose Petey if she keeps going the way she’s going. That’s what caused all this uproar in the first place. O’Day wants his kid, and Libby left Petey with me and you so he couldn’t find her, which was a dumb stunt, doing it the way she did. I think she realizes that finally. We went to see a lawyer, too. He told her if she doesn’t make some effort to show she’s trying to straighten up, O’Day will get custody of his daughter, and there won’t be a damn thing Jake and all his money can do about it. Half of Oklahoma and two-thirds of Texas know she left Petey with me and not her daddy. God, I’m tired,” he said abruptly, sighing heavily. He looked up to meet her eyes. “I’ve told her how things are with me—about you.”

She didn’t say anything, and he went on.

“I love you, Hannah. I love you with all my heart, and I hurt you. I—it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, leaving you here when you didn’t understand. The bad part is I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again if I had to. I’m not in love with Libby. I don’t think I ever was, really. If I was in love with anything, it was what I
wanted
her to be, some idea of her I had in my mind that never really existed. My history with her is part of what I am—the same way my past with the bottle is part of what I am. And I want you to stay with me in spite of both of them. I know it’s a lot to ask, Hannah.”

He looked so miserable that she wanted to put her arms around him again, wanted to hold him tightly and never let go. But she stayed where she was.

“It’s like what my old man told me about being alone. I didn’t know I was lonely until the night I brought Petey to you. I need you, Hannah. Don’t leave me.”

The golden chance. It was all she’d wanted, all she’d dared hope for, and here it was after all.

I am afraid, Elizabeth.’ Maybe there is something wrong with both of us!

“Hannah, don’t look at me like that,” he warned her. “Don’t. I love you. Don’t look at me like that!”

Like Bambi, she supposed, tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn’t meant to cry, but her mouth was quivering anyway.

“Ernie, we don’t know each other. Not really. There hasn’t been enough time for this.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, giving a resigned sigh. “You want to know what I think? I think some things you can’t measure in time. I keep remembering something Mac McDade told me about his wife, Amelia. He was in a V.A. Hospital in New York City when he met her. He’d been wounded really bad in Southeast Asia, and she was married to somebody else. He said he was lying on a gurney out in the hall, and she came walking toward him. She had long black hair, and she was wearing a yellow summer dress. The sun was behind her all the way up that long hall, but he knew. Even before he saw her face, he knew she was the one. He waited ten years for her, and all that time he loved her without her knowing it. I think that’s how it is with you and me, Hannah. Ten seconds from now, or ten years, I’m going to love you with all my heart just the way I do right this minute.”

A hot tear slid down her cheek. “Ernie, I—Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” he repeated incredulously. “Hannah Rose, would I act as crazy as I’ve been acting if I wasn’t? It’s the only thing I
am
sure about. Ah, Hannah, don’t
cry
. I don’t want you to be sad.”

“This isn’t sad,” she said, her voice breaking. “This is like—the national anthem.”

He threw back his head and laughed, that delighted chuckle she adored so, and he reached for her, hugging her to him hard. “Hannah, Hannah,” he whispered against her ear, finally holding her at arm’s length and smiling into her eyes.

But the smile faded, and his eyes grew dark and intense. She could see the passion there—and more. Uncertainty. He still had his own doubts and fears. He’d been hurt too badly not to be uncertain, but he was willing not to let their golden chance pass them by.

“Ernie?” she said, her eyes locked with his. “Could I … kiss you?”

There was the smile again, just as she’d hoped, quiet and shy and infinitely pleased. He didn’t move. He waited, eyes open while she reached up with both hands to hold his face as she touched her mouth to his.

Lord, she loved the taste of him. He was sweetly, deliciously—Ernie. She kissed him to savor, enjoy, to arouse, and his eyes closed as he gave himself up to whatever else she wanted to do. She loved the soft feel of his mustache and the scratchy stubble of his beard.

“I love doing this,” she murmured when she finally broke away. Her heart was pounding and her knees had gone weak.

“I’m kind of partial to it myself, Hannah Rose,” he assured her, his voice strained and his breathing shaky. They both laughed, foreheads pressed together.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered.

She didn’t, kissing him again and following one kiss with another until his lips parted and she could savor him even more deeply, until he could no longer be just the recipient, and he returned her attention with a knee-weakening kiss of his own.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight, are you?” he asked, holding her tightly, keeping her head on his shoulder.

“No,” she said contentedly.

“Am
I
going anywhere tonight?” he wondered, and she laughed softly, giving him a squeeze. He leaned back to look at her. “Am I?” he asked again, his dark eyes probing hers.

“No,” she said again, and he grinned.

“You’re sure?” he persisted.

“I’m sure.” She reached up to touch his face, serious now. “You look so tired.”

“I am. I didn’t get much sleep.” He covered her hand with his to keep it there for a moment, then kissed the the inside of her wrist. She felt it all the way to her toes.

He was staring into her eyes again, and she could see the weariness—and something else—just a touch of mischief. “Could we … go to bed?” he wondered further.

“Now?” she asked, as straight-faced as she could manage.

“Well, yeah. Now,” he said nonchalantly. “Now is what I was thinking.” He gave an innocent shrug.

She didn’t answer, looking at him steadily, trying not to grin.

He raised both eyebrows, and she let go of a laugh. He hugged her to him, lifting her up off the floor, half carrying, half dragging her to the bed. He sat down, then flung himself backward, taking her along with him, so she was lying on top of him, her legs captured in his.

“There’s something you ought to know, Miss Hannah,” he whispered, his eyes full of devilment.

“What’s that?” she whispered back.

“I’m not
that
tired.”

She laughed, and he kissed her soundly to show her, then sat up, pulling her along with him. He took off her jacket and his, giving them both a sling toward the door. He looked down at the silk shirt she’d cunningly put on just for him, gently trailing his fingers over the swell of her breasts and making her nipples tighten and stand firm. Her eyes closed as he leaned down to gently kiss each one, his breath warm and exciting through the thin silk. She sat quietly while he undid the top button, then the next, and the next. His fingers trembled as he parted the shirt and unclasped the lacy wisp of a bra.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as her breasts spilled forth. Once again he leaned down to kiss each one, making her head arch back and her hands slide into his hair as he began to suckle her. She gave a soft murmur of pleasure.

He moved away and began shedding his own clothes.

“Damn knee,” he muttered once in the process of getting off his boots and jeans. She chuckled softly, holding her arms out to him when he was finally free of them, and he turned to her. She would have helped him with the rest of her clothes and his, but he caught her hands and gently put them aside.

“I’ve been lying awake nights thinking about undoing your buttons, Hannah. I want to do this.”

But he didn’t linger over it, finishing his task quickly, sliding under the covers with her, and fitting his body against hers. They were both cold, and they shivered against each other.

“I would have come after you,” he whispered. “I would have come to Dallas. You know that, don’t you?”

She pressed close to him, afraid she was going to cry again, and she told him the truth. “No.”

“Hannah—”

“Ernie, hold me. Hold me …”

His arms tightened around her, and the tears slid out of the corners of her eyes. He began to kiss her then, slowly, deliberately. His breath warmed her skin as he pressed soft kisses, one by one over her shoulders and the swell of her breasts and back to her mouth again. “Don’t cry, honey. It’s going to be all right with us.”

She shivered. “Is it?”

“Yes!” He buried his face in her neck. “I love you. I didn’t want to hurt you, Hannah.”

“Ernie, I know,” she whispered. She did know that.

“I want you to understand. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” she whispered. “It just—wasn’t easy.”

“I was scared to death you’d be gone. I was scared I’d look into your eyes and I wouldn’t see
me
there anymore.”

She didn’t tell him how close she’d come to going. She held him tightly instead. “Make love to me, Ernie. Now. I want you inside me; I need you.”

“I need you, Hannah,” he responded. He shifted her even closer so his mouth could take hers from every angle. His hands moved urgently over her bare back and the length of her body. Her breasts flattened against the hard planes of his chest.