Reece Read online

  Winnie’s squeaky cries tore at her heart. She couldn’t just sit here. She had to do something.

  Reece set the horse on the ground and motioned for Lanie to grab the halter strap behind Winnie’s right ear. Winnie immediately collapsed.

  Lanie’s first impulse was to let her lie there. Anything to alleviate the animal’s pain. But she remembered Reece’s dire prediction. She steeled herself to what must be done.

  She pulled her pet’s head up. In her firmest, scolding voice, she commanded the horse to “Get up!” Each time Winnie balked, Lanie scolded again and firmly tugged the halter. Lanie winced even as she did so. After this was all over, she would try to make up for the sharp words.

  At first Reece appeared surprised by Lanie’s tone. It soon became evident that Winnie obeyed better and seemed less frantic under her authoritative tone. He smiled his approval.

  Around and around the old shade tree they went. Lanie guessed they must have circled it twenty times by now. She looked at Reece, patiently taking step after methodical step. His broad shoulders drooped from exhaustion, but he never once complained.

  They walked side by side, the horse between them. Reece lightly touched a hand to his chest, and Lanie remembered.

  “You shouldn’t be doing this,” she said. “You’re bruised. Here, let me.” She reached for the rope, but he held tight.

  “I’m fine,” he said and kept walking. After a couple more trips around the tree, he said, “Winnie was a gift from someone special.”

  It wasn’t a question. He was confirming what she’d already told him.

  “Yes.” Winnie slowed, and Lanie tugged until she was walking again. “I miss him a lot.”

  Reece looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the dim light filtering from the kitchen. He reached up and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck.

  “This … someone special. Do you mind my asking where he is?”

  What he really wanted to ask was why anyone would go off and leave a girl like Lanie. Even if the guy intended to come back for her, he was taking a chance by turning her loose without a wedding ring.

  What man wouldn’t be attracted by the way she tried to hide her weaknesses behind a curtain of super-efficiency? A man could easily lose himself in those big hazel eyes. A man could fall for the quiet sensitivity underneath that bumbling exterior.

  It was a good thing he knew better than to let down his guard around her. He knew the danger of getting involved with someone like Lanie, and he would sidestep the possibility whenever it arose.

  Strangely, it bothered him to think that she was involved—or had been involved—with someone else. Her someone special obviously cared about her a great deal. And she about him.

  Buck up, Masardi, he told himself. She’s taken. That should make it easier to stick to his resolve.

  “I believe my father’s in heaven,” she said. “He—”

  Winnie suddenly anchored her hooves in the dirt and answered nature’s call.

  Lanie stopped walking. “Is … is it over? Is she going to be all right?”

  Reece smiled. “The crisis is over. She may have a bellyache for a while, but she’ll be fine.”

  Lanie made a small noise. It was something between a hysterical giggle and a cry of relief. Then her hands flew to her face, and she was sobbing. In the next moment, against his better judgment, he went to her and took her in his arms.

  “Shhh. There’s no need for tears now.”

  He led her back inside to the sofa and sat down beside her, stroking the dark, shiny hair that fell softly to her shoulders. It smelled like honeysuckle. He tucked her head against his chest and dropped his hand to the tight spot between her shoulder blades. A tension knot. He’d had enough of them to know.

  Slowly, gently, he applied pressure to the muscle. He rubbed his fingers in small circles on her back. Like a cat, she arched against him, the thin nightgown doing little to disguise the delicate curves and intricacies of her body. His own body reacted in a way he knew could only cause trouble if he followed through.

  Reece took momentary pleasure in the knowledge that it had been her father who had given her the horse. Winnie hadn’t been a lover’s gift after all.

  His resolve shot to smithereens, he lowered his head and kissed the living daylights out of her.

  Lanie’s lips tingled, and oddly, so did other parts of her body. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. There was nothing gentlemanly or civilized about it. The kiss said, Me man, you woman. And she had never in her life been more glad to have been born female.

  Now that the danger was over and Winnie was going to be fine, Lanie wanted to lose herself in Reece’s kisses.

  His lips circled hers in a nibbling motion while his fingers did wonderful things to the middle of her back. Ever so slowly, he claimed her lips again. This time the kiss was almost tentative. His mouth, warm and firm, forayed over her lips.

  Forgetting all caution, forgetting her pledge to remain uninvolved, forgetting everything but the headiness of his kiss, Lanie opened to the moist tongue roaming over her lips.

  By now her heart was beating erratically. Raising a hand to Reece’s bare chest to brace herself against the unfamiliar emotion sweeping over her, Lanie felt the rapid thump-thump, thump-thump of his heart against her fingertips. Her fingers trailed across the tangled gold curls, and she brushed the abrasion he’d received in his skirmish with the cow.

  With a sharp intake of breath, Reece lifted his lips from hers. For a moment, he gazed down at her, his eyes plundering her very soul. In that instant, she knew he must have seen the secret she’d tried to hide from him … the secret she’d tried to hide from herself.

  With a slam, Lanie shut the windows to her soul, but it was too late. He had already seen through them. She averted her eyes, trying without success to avoid the truth.

  Her hair fell in a curtain across her face. Lanie gladly took refuge behind it. Anything to keep from looking into those knowing brown eyes.

  So now he knew that she cared for him. It had been a mistake to think she could work with Reece and live next door to him without falling victim to the intangible something that sparked between them.

  A naïve fool. That’s what she was. Lanie mentally called herself a few other choice names as well.

  Reece’s fingers brushed her cheek, and he swept aside the veil of hair and tucked it behind her ear.

  Instinctively, Lanie pulled away from him. “Winnie. I’d better go let her in.” She made a move to get up, but Reece’s grip tightened on her waist.

  “Let her sleep outside tonight.”

  Reece snuggled down into the plump cushions and lay his head against the armrest. He drew Lanie down beside him until her head rested on his shoulder and her body nestled in the cramped space between him and the back of the overstuffed couch.

  “Your ribs,” she protested.

  “Are fine.” He draped a heavy arm over her. “Let’s just rest a minute, and then we’ll check on Winnie.”

  Cuddled comfortably between his long, hard form and the mushy pillows, her body told her not to argue. But, crazily, her thoughts veered back to her school days and the wide circle of friends whose company she had enjoyed.

  “I like playing with you,” her best friend, Tracey, had told her one day in second grade. “You always think of fun things to do.” Shortly after that declaration, Tracey had broken her ankle, and Lanie had sprained her wrist while both tried to climb a tree with roller skates on. Lanie’s idea, of course. The children at school had laughed when they had learned what happened. “That’s what you get when you play with Zany Lanie,” her friends had said. And each had a tale, and maybe a scar, to prove it.

  This time there would be no scars. This time she knew the perils that came with playing this dangerous game. And this time she would say no to temptation, sparing them both the pain that was sure to follow.

  She looked up into the face of temptation. His eyes were closed, and
his breath puffed softly against her cheek. What she wouldn’t give to be able to lie here in his arms forever. But if they were both to get out in one piece, she’d better nip this in the bud.

  “Reece, I don’t think—”

  “Don’t think,” he murmured and pulled her closer.

  That was the problem. Usually she didn’t think. And now that she tried to correct the error of her ways, reliable, dependable, think-it-through Reece had sunk to her level of irrationality. She had obviously corrupted him.

  Mere seconds later, Lanie fell asleep in the comfort of his arms. Each of the dreams that followed featured Reece in the starring role. In one, he dived headfirst over a cliff. When Lanie tried to stop him, he grabbed her, taking her with him to the inevitable crash landing.

  In the next dream, she saw him carrying a tiny infant. The baby’s fair skin contrasted with Reece’s deep-bronze coloring.

  The baby cried and squirmed against his chest, but Reece never grew impatient. He rubbed its tiny toes and continued pacing the floor, his deep, soothing voice lulling Lanie as well as the young child. It felt so right, with just the three of them.

  Reece was such a good father. The deep voice persisted, only this time he was talking to her instead of the baby.

  “Lanie.”

  “I’ll take the baby now,” she murmured. “You get some sleep.”

  A deep chuckle penetrated the edges of her consciousness. Lanie woke to find Reece kneeling on the floor beside her, his brown eyes full of amusement.

  “Oh, hell—pardon me.” Instantly awake, she mentally kicked herself for giving in and agreeing to “just rest a minute.” Sunlight streamed in through the window sheers. “We should never have done this.”

  “Done what? Did I miss something?” He looked disappointed.

  “We slept together!”

  Reece punched one hand into the other. “Damn, I did sleep through it.”

  Lanie swung a fringed pillow at him. She sat up, her feet touching the cool hardwood floor. “Keep both feet on the floor at all times,” Grandma Weatherford had reminded her before each of her dates. Knowing Lanie’s proclivity for impulsiveness,

  Grandma had no doubt worried that she would let reason fly to the winds in that area of her life as well. But what Grandma must have overlooked was the fact that Lanie always did the right thing.

  Last night, however, she hadn’t.

  Lanie glowered at Reece, knowing she shouldn’t hold him responsible for her own temporary lapse in judgment. She probably shouldn’t hold him responsible, either, for the way he was looking at her right now. Surely the mint-green nightgown she wore left little to his imagination as his dark eyes swept over her. Self-consciously, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I swear,” he said, palms held skyward. “I didn’t knowingly ravish your body last night. If I did, I’m sorry.” The little white lines at the corners of his eyes disappeared, and his eyes twinkled. “Mostly sorry that I don’t remember it,” he amended.

  “Reece! I’m serious. What happened last night … well, let’s just say it can’t happen again.”

  She toyed with the bit of lace on the hem of her gown. Reece got up off his knees and sat beside her on the couch.

  “We’re too different, Reece. Your life is orderly, from A to B and all the way down the line to Z. My life is alphabet soup. When I wake up each morning, I never know what I’ll find in my spoon.” With a wry laugh, she added, “And this morning I found you.”

  “Look,” he said, laying a hand over her fidgeting fingers. “Don’t you think you’re making a big deal out of nothing? I agree with you that it’s ridiculous to even think about us … starting something … you know, together. Sharing a couple of little kisses—”

  Terrific kisses, she thought. And what did he mean, making a big deal out of nothing? Was that all it meant to him?

  “—doesn’t make us lovers. We both had an eventful day. We just needed a little physical reassurance.”

  She could have sworn he enjoyed their kisses as much as she had. That there was more involved than just hormones calling to each other.

  “But there’s no reason we can’t be friends,” he continued.

  Just like there’s no reason I can’t be president of the United States, she thought.

  “So why don’t we both shower and get dressed—in our respective houses, of course—then meet in my driveway in, say, twenty minutes? You’re already late for your second driving lesson.” He squeezed her knee and stood up. Lanie followed him to the door.

  “Reece, under the circumstances—”

  “There are no circumstances, remember?” Reece opened the front door. Across the road, the curtains moved in Dot’s living room window. Funny, but Lanie didn’t detect a breeze in the open doorway.

  “Make it thirty minutes, and you’re on.”

  Reece stopped and turned around to face Lanie. “By the way, you’d better not waste any time feeding Winnie. I caught her nosing around the trash can when I went out to check on her this morning.”

  He was, indeed, a friend. Regardless of what else might be going on beneath the surface, Reece had definitely been a friend last night. Who else but a friend would get up in the middle of the night and stay with her until her horse was feeling better? He could just as easily have told her what to do or given her the name of the local animal doctor she hadn’t been able to find in the midst of her panic.

  “Um, I seem to have forgotten my manners.” She stepped out onto the small porch. Picking a chip of white paint off the banister, she said, “You were very kind to come over and help me with Winnie last night. Thanks … Friend.”

  “That makes us even. I forgot to thank you for risking getting the stuffing kicked out of you to save little Weasel. Thank you, Friend.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek, his day-old whiskers rasping across her skin. “See, nothing to it.”

  He turned and jogged across the yard. Lanie watched him side-hop the fence before she remembered she was standing in her nightgown on the front porch.

  10

  When Reece learned Lanie planned to gather signatures on her petition while on their outing, he sulked.

  Lanie was glad Winnie had been content to stay in the backyard and play with Barney. At least she wouldn’t have to argue with Reece about letting the horse ride up front.

  “Do all males of the human species go to school to learn how to do that?” she asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Sulk. My brothers had it down to an art; my father sulked around my grandmother, and now you’re doing it. It must be a conspiracy.”

  Reece had the grace to look ashamed. In turn, Lanie tried to be inconspicuous about her signature gathering. After she had been driving for about an hour, she said she needed to stop at the grocery store for spaghetti ingredients.

  Just as she’d hoped, the store was packed with Saturday morning shoppers. She left Reece waiting in the truck and returned a short while later with tomatoes, peppers, onion, and a page full of signatures.

  She even recruited a couple of volunteers to help with the Stop the Highway campaign.

  Lanie drove where Reece directed, being careful to shift gears at precisely the right instant. She still had a little trouble on corners, but Reece patiently talked her through them.

  He even pointed out a number of historical homes in the area and told the background of each, but Lanie was concentrating so hard on driving that she wasn’t able to enjoy the little tour.

  As they passed the forestry tower, Reece told her of the time he took a dare and climbed to the top, walking backward up two hundred steps.

  Armed with spray paint and a camera, he initialed and dated the hatch door while his high school buddies watched from the ground.

  Then, as proof, he took a picture of the underside of the firewatcher’s small room.

  He descended the steps, the paint can in one coat pocket and the cell phone in the other, to find his friends gone and the local
sheriff waiting for him.

  “What happened then?” Lanie asked.

  “He went easy on me. Instead of pressing charges, he made me paint the underside of the tower house. Then, as a community service, I had to paint an elderly lady’s house. Sheriff Thompson even made me buy the brushes and stuff with my own money.”

  Reece pointed for her to take the next left, which brought them back to Sanderson Road.

  “From then on, I’ve hated painting. I’d hire somebody before I ever pick up a brush again,” he said.

  Lanie smiled as she recalled the original “huge favor” she’d planned on winning. But more than having her house painted, she wanted her job back.

  She smoothly turned onto Judestown Road and headed for home. She felt confident she would win the bet after all.

  “I would never have guessed you’d do such a thing,” she said. “Weren’t your parents mad?”

  “Nah. When the sheriff took me home, all they said was, ‘What’d he do this time?’”

  Lanie took her eyes from the road long enough to see the look of pure mischief on his face. He had apparently enjoyed his escapades.

  The man was a contradiction.

  How could this serious, solid pillar of the community have been a teenage hoodlum? What had caused him to change from a prank-pulling hell-raiser to a striving, hardworking, no-nonsense adult?

  Whatever the reason, this glimpse into his past helped explain the brief uncharacteristic behavior he had displayed recently.

  “The only time my parents really got mad,” he continued, “was when I spent the night in jail.”

  Lanie couldn’t believe her ears. The childish prank had been hard to swallow. But going to jail—that was something altogether different. “What did you do?” she prodded.

  “Took the flag from in front of Etta’s restaurant and replaced it with a bedsheet.” He chuckled softly. “I had drawn a skull and crossbones on it.”

  Lanie laughed. She pulled into his driveway and barely missed hitting the mailbox.