Sweet Annie Part 11

"Of course you will. The doctors warned us you might become agitated from time to time."

"Yes, I get agitated. So would anyone in my situation. But I don't want to be drugged."

"Don't be difficult, dear-"

"Mother, please. I'm not a child. I'm not being difficult. Please stop treating me as if I were six years old."

Her mother sat the tray on a cherry wood table and wrung her hands, her dismay evident. "I don't know where this att.i.tude has come from. Diana, talk some sense into her."

Startled, Diana glanced up. "She makes perfect sense to me. I can't imagine anything I'd have to say. She has some valid points if anyone cared long enough to listen."

Mildred stiffened and clasped her hands together. "I might have expected as much from you."

She turned and quit the room in a huff.

Diana shrugged.

"I have something to show you." Annie got up and walked over to her wardrobe. She withdrew the green dress and held it for her sister-in-law to see.

"That's a pretty dress."

"Isn't it positively normal?" She held it against herself and gazed down fondly. "I sewed most of it myself, too. Aunt Vera showed me how and helped when I made a mistake, but I pretty much did it on my own."

"That's impressive. I've never sewn a dress for myself."

"Really? Well then I guess I'm impressed, too." She grinned. "But you can do so many things. You're independent and smart and politically savvy."

"Not exactly sterling qualities in your mother's book, are they?" Diana asked with a wry tone.

"And you have a beautiful little boy, who is bright and happy."

"He is, isn't he?" Pride shone in her dark eyes.

"And you obviously make my brother very happy. He adores you."

"He adores you, too, Annie. But he treats me completely different than he treats you."

"Because he looks at you as an adult," Annie said. "An equal."

"He's overprotective because he loves you."

"I know that. But it's smothering."

"I promised you I would talk to him, and I will."

Annie nodded her understanding. "I know. Thank you."

After a few more minutes, Diana left to join her husband and son. Annie stayed in her room, pacing for a time, then lying on the bed and allowing her thoughts to roam.

She opened her eyes and discovered she'd fallen asleep. Darkness shrouded her room. She sat, finding her arms and legs achy from excessive use that day. Flexing the muscles, she brushed the wrinkles from her clothing and wheeled herself to the kitchen for water to wash and clean her teeth.

The house sat dark and silent; her parents had been upstairs for quite some time. After was.h.i.+ng, she checked the Seth Thomas clock on the mantel, then silently unlocked the back door and wheeled down the ramp and along the hard-packed path to the gate. By the time she reached the end of her street, her arms were trembling, but the pain was forgotten as soon as she saw the dark horse and the tall man beneath the glow of the silvery moon.

Chapter Seven.

"You got the note. I'm sorry I'm late," she said. "I fell asleep."

"I didn't mind the wait." The nearest house here at the edge of town was several hundred yards away, and a dozen pine trees plus a blooming hedge of spiraea prevented anyone from seeing where Luke waited.

"It's been so long," she said, hearing the breathlessness in her own voice.

"I'm glad you sent the note." He glanced down the lane. "We probably shouldn't stay here."

"Let's go somewhere, then," she suggested, even though her suggestion was a risky idea. She really didn't worry about her parents waking and checking on her; they never did any more. But someone might see them together.

"All right." He appeared to think for a moment. "Stand up."

Willing to take the risk, she did.

He pushed her chair into the spiraea bushes where it couldn't be seen. "You up to a ride?"

She glanced at the horse. "You brought Wrangler."

"He wanted to see you."

Annie laughed softly. "Yes, I'm up to it."

He moved the animal closer to where an abandoned cart sat at the corner of the neighbor's property. June flowers bloomed in the back. Luke dipped to sweep her up and carry her to the cart, where he placed her on the top of the wheel and held her hand for balance. "Can you reach his back from there?"

She grabbed the saddle horn and made the transference easily. Using the stirrup, Luke swung up behind her.

He was bigger than the last time they'd done this, harder, more muscled, and she was aware of his chest and thighs against her back and hips, his breath grazing her neck.

"Can Wrangler handle this?" she asked.

"We're not going far." Luke took the reins and with a flex of his hard thighs against hers, the horse stepped forward.

Elated, Annie clung to the saddle horn and leaned back against his solid rea.s.suring form. Her second ride was every bit as exhilarating as her first, in fact even more so. Now she was aware of Luke as a man. She had eagerly antic.i.p.ated their stolen time together.

He led the horse through the dark silent streets of town, pa.s.sed businesses with living quarters overhead. Annie glanced up at the dark windows. Luke halted the horse before the livery. The wide door that stood open during the day was closed, and the horse stopped near a door to the side.

Luke dismounted, then reached up. She leaned toward him and he took her weight easily, carrying her and leading the horse through the doorway and into the dark interior of the stable that smelled of hay and horses.

He paused and told her where to reach to locate a lamp and matches. She lit the wick and carried the lantern, letting the light guide their way as he carried her down a double row of box stalls.

Luke lowered her to her feet. "There's a bench there, if you want to sit."

She did.

He led Wrangler into a stall, removed his saddle, and scooped grain into a bucket. "You deserve extra oats, boy," he said, slapping his hindquarters. "I'll brush you down good later."

The horse nickered as though he'd understood, and Annie smiled to herself.

Luke fastened the stall door behind him. "Want to walk or shall I carry you?"

"I'll walk."

She stood and he took her hand, leading her past the stalls, telling her which horses were his, which he boarded. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and against the solid warmth of his body. They turned a corner and entered a large room with a waist-high brick fireplace that took up the outside wall.

"This is the forge." He showed her his tools: hammers, tongs, punches and chisels. He pointed out the double-chambered bellows above the forge. Two sizes of anvils had been mounted to tree trunks of a height he could easily reach to work. Right now the chilly room smelled of coals, and she could only imagine how hot it would be when the fire was blazing enough to shape and beat iron.

"I heard the sound of the hammers building this place, and sometimes on a clear day I can hear the ring of the hammer on the iron. Now when I hear it, I'll picture you here. You'll seem closer."

He gave her a gentle smile and touched one finger to her cheek before continuing on.

Another room was completely filled with tack, and the scent of leather and oil permeated her nostrils.

"Why so many different harnesses and bits?" she asked after he told her what each was.

"All horses are unique and work differently. Some like one kind of bit, some another. You don't want your animal to obey because of pain, so you make sure the bit fits his mouth."

"Oh." She turned back and he was standing so close that she stepped into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist more because of her pleasure to be with him than for balance.

He ran his thumb down her spine to her waistband and back up, and Annie experienced a stunning rush of excitement. Being alone with a man and any physical contact was strictly forbidden according to the way she and every other girl she knew had been raised. If she'd been severely warned about flirtation and flattery, how much more taboo was this?

But she just couldn't see this beautiful thing they shared as wrong.

He lowered his head and her heart fluttered in response. She raised her lips and met his warm damp mouth with a soft exhale and a tiny sound of pleasure.

The kiss mounted and swelled, and he nipped the corner of her lips, dragged his mouth to her chin, then to her neck.

Annie let her head fall back and enjoyed the pleasurable sensations his mouth created on her sensitive skin. Deep inside, tiny bursts of warmth flooded her heart and chugged through her veins.

"I like you in the daytime, Annie, when the sunlight is bright on your hair, making it look like fire and fool's gold. Your lashes are so light and your skin is as fine as a baby's, so fair and so delicate."

Just those words made her b.r.e.a.s.t.s feel hard and achy. Her breath caught in her throat.

"But I like you in the dark, too, when I have to rely on my nose and my hands and the sound of your voice and your sighs. In the dark it seems like we're the only two people in the world."

She let her eyelids close and imagined being alone with no distractions, no parents, no one waiting to correct her or stop her from being herself. "I wish we were."

He hugged her tightly, and she buried her cheek against his chest and the erratic pounding of his heart.

"Where do you live?" she asked. "You haven't shown me yet."

"It's not much to see."

"I want to see anyway."

"Okay." He took one of her hands and the lantern and led her through a narrow corridor, then held open a door for her to pa.s.s inside.

Annie limped into the long, narrow room. The s.p.a.ce held a small woodstove, a chest of drawers, a normal-size bed, a stack of crates atop which sat folded toweling and a pail for water. Pegs in one wall held coats and overalls and hats she'd never seen him wear.

Another stack of crates held books and a few personal items. A worn braided rug covered the plank floor.

"I told you it wasn't much."

She glanced around the austere s.p.a.ce. "It's not bad."

"It's only temporary until I build a house."

"I said it's not bad."

"It's not what you're used to."

She glanced up at him. "I've never had to pay for anything myself."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Annie's tired legs wobbled, and she made her way to the edge of his bed and sat. "I had an abysmal day."

Luke sat the lantern on the chest of drawers. "What happened?"

She told him about the ham and the incident with Will and the ball and the tea. He pulled an upended nail keg from a corner and perched atop it in front of her.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm swimming upstream and all the other fish are going the other direction. I'm the only one fighting the current and it's a losing battle. The other fish all say, *Why don't you turn around and go the way we're going?' and I wonder that myself sometimes.

"But I'll die. I'll just die if I have to wither away in that chair and be treated like an invalid for the rest of my life." Her mother's words pierced her again. "Do you know what she said? Her first words were *What if someone had seen you?' As if that were the worst thing that could happen. As if I'm so gauche and ugly that she's ashamed of me."

Luke lifted her hands and pressed his lips to their backs. "I can't believe she's ashamed of you," he denied. "She loves you, and she's protective."

"It's more than that. It's as though I'm a pretty pet when I stay in my chair, but if I look awkward she's embarra.s.sed."

"I think you're beautiful just the way you are."

She smiled into his eyes, still disbelieving he saw her the way he claimed. But she even felt pretty when she was with him. "I did discover that I have an ally in Diana, however. I'd suspected all along, but today confirmed it."

"Well then, somethin' good did happen today."

"And tonight," she said softly. "Something real good is happening tonight."

He smiled that devastating smile that carved slashes in his cheeks.

Annie pulled a hand from his easy grasp to reach up and tentatively stroke one long dimple with her fingertips. His skin was surprisingly smooth and warm. She drew the caress across his lips and he kissed her fingers in pa.s.sing.