Conquer the Memories

Chapter 15

From the corner of the couch in the dark living room, Sonia heard the sound of an opened door. “What’s going on around here?” Charlie bellowed. “Not a single light. Not a…ouch!”

A light went on in the kitchen; she could see the square of yellow in the open doorway and forced herself to uncurl from her position on the couch. Roughly, she pushed back her hair and moved toward the kitchen.

“Sorry, Charlie, I…”

Charlie pivoted from his crouched stance by the open refrigerator, a growing furrow on his brow as he caught a glimpse of her. “Why didn’t you call me if you were sick? Where’s Craig?”

“I’m not sick,” she immediately assured him. She moved forward, feeling disoriented and exhausted and frightened. The clock over the stove said it was six. She seemed to have lost four hours. Her heart was tied up in knots…but she had to feed Charlie. How could she have forgotten him? And at least for a few minutes, she could forget that horrible argument and at least do something. “Craig had to go away. Unexpectedly. He’ll be back in a few days. Listen, I had planned to grill some pork chops, but I…”

“What the hell is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” she said succinctly, and opened the refrigerator. “I forgot to start the grill, it won’t take more than a minute or two-” She took two long breaths. “George was having trouble with the colt this morning, wasn’t he? I saw the vet’s car here before I went into town.”

“Sonia,” Charlie said softly. “Honey, exactly where is Craig?”

“In Chicago,” Sonia said brightly. “He’ll be back in a day or two.” She wouldn’t upset Charlie for the world, and she knew her voice sounded cheerful. Unfortunately, tears chose just that moment to drop from her eyes. Plop, plop, plop, all over the potatoes as she sliced them, all over the chops as she took them out of the refrigerator…

She fled to the outdoor gas grill and turned it on. When her eyes were dry again, she went back inside, closing the glass doors behind her. Charlie was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking frantic and anxious and…lost.

“Everything is fine, Charlie,” she said swiftly. “Really. I’m having an off day. Everyone has an off day sometimes. Women. Isn’t that what you always say?”

“Sure.” Charlie turned away from her, his hands in the cupboard. “You got his number?”

“Actually…that won’t help,” she said breezily. The breezy tone collapsed; she had the terrible feeling she was going to burst into tears again. Desperately, she smiled at him. “Listen, you think you can cope here?”

“Sure, I’ll make the dinner-”

“Actually. I’m not really all that hungry. I-” She waved her hand, trying to explain without words, because suddenly she seemed to have an unbudgeable knot in her throat. “I’m going out for a while. Okay?”

It clearly wasn’t okay with Charlie. “Listen-”

“Charlie, everything is fine,” she said once more.

“Okay, okay,” he soothed.

She slipped out the back door. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Charlie, but there was no possible way she could handle being around anyone.

And blessedly there was no one to handle in the yard. The sun was low on the horizon, big and yellow. Belle started whinnying almost before Sonia opened the stable doors. Always, the mare had been sensitive to her mistress’s scent. It took only a moment to saddle Belle, and all the while the mare was nuzzling Sonia’s shoulder, clearly searching for the apple or sugar cube that wasn’t there. “Sorry, sweetheart,” Sonia murmured. “I’ll bring you a treat later, Belle, if you’ll promise to be good. Promise?”

She talked nonsense for a few more minutes, trying to soothe herself more than Belle. It didn’t work. He’d been gone for four hours. By now he was in Chicago. It might as well have been a million miles away. Her heart was racing at just that many miles per hour, and there didn’t seem to be a damn thing she could do to stop it. How could the hurt just keep on coming?

She was still wearing the violet jumpsuit and high-heeled sandals from her trip to town. She slipped off the sandals, stuck one bare foot into the stirrup and vaulted onto Belle’s back. The horse nickered responsively, as if able to sense her mood.

They headed toward the canyon road as if they shared the same fierce desire to be alone. Tears burned in Sonia’s eyes, welcome in that loneliness.

Craig jammed on the brakes, sending a billow of dust out behind the car. Before he climbed out, he saw Charlie running out the back door as if demons were after him.

Craig didn’t smile. Slamming the car door, he said abruptly, “Where is she?”

“I swear, you look worse than she does.”

“Charlie-”

“She went off on that dang-fool mare up into the hills. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I thought of going after her, but I-”

Craig waved the rest of the talk aside. He shrugged out of his suit jacket as he hit the kitchen, and had his shirt unbuttoned before he reached the hall. Less than five minutes later, he was dressed in jeans and riding boots.

Charlie met him halfway to the stable, Black Lightning’s bridle in his hands. “I didn’t take the time to saddle him,” he said gruffly.

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“You want I should-”

“No.”

“Maybe you should just let her go. She was mighty upset.”

Craig shot him a speaking look. Charlie abruptly subsided, plucked a cigar from his pocket, jammed it between his teeth and headed for the house. “I knew you wouldn’t go far, no matter what she thought,” he muttered.

Craig barely heard. He’d spent four hours driving around. One wide sweep had taken him to the airport; after that, he wasn’t sure what roads he’d taken or why.

He could have been in Chicago by now. No matter what Sonia thought, all he’d planned to do was contact an attorney, press charges and seek retribution in a civilized way against their attacker. That was a rational plan, and all his life he’d been a rational man.

Emotionally-damn Sonia!-he’d had an image in his head from the minute the police called him. Just one punch in the man’s face. Something. To get revenge…

But the plane had taken off without him. He’d just stood there, his ticket in hand, his anger surrounding him like an aura, a rage for which he had no outlet. Sonia…had known what was in his head, but she didn’t understand. There was no possible way he could make her understand. She wasn’t a man. It was that simple.

So was the sudden soul-wrenching fear of losing her. Just that simple.

His knees pressed into the horse’s flanks and Black Lightning surged forward, knowing where they were going without being told. He had barely twenty minutes of daylight left. The wind ruffled through Black Lightning’s mane, and in the pale light of dusk Craig’s features took on a primitive cast, hard and austere, his eyes as hard as wet stones.

Fear was something he’d never had to deal with before. He hadn’t been afraid in Chicago. But he was now.

Black Lightning strained for greater speed. The powerful animal’s muscles surged beneath Craig’s thighs in the rhythm of a race. He had to find her.

The colors from the setting sun painted the entire sky. Deep rose and amethyst glowed above the bleak, rocky landscape all around her. Not a rabbit stirred, not a bird. Sonia paused, stroking Belle’s smooth neck. Both of them had slowed to an aimless walk.

There was nowhere to go. The huge Western sky just kept on coming; the land offered no shelter…certainly not the kind of shelter that might have comforted her. Belle’s flanks were damp; Sonia could feel a streak of dirt on her cheek. She was exhausted, weary from the fierce ride to nowhere and weary in her heart. Sand and dust had coated every inch of her skin, and she knew that all too soon the night would turn cold.

Once more she glanced toward home with despair in her eyes. Instead of total emptiness, though, she saw a cloud of dust coming toward her from the mouth of the canyon to the west. Her heart picked up the oddest fluttering pulse, and then she held her breath altogether. As she watched, the billowing dust took form.

Her heart suddenly soared sky-high. Still, it took several seconds for the faintest smile to form on her lips. Bending down, she whispered to Belle, as a sweet blur of tears filled her eyes. Happy tears.

Craig knew she’d seen him because he’d watched her head turn. Then she turned again and, with her long legs pressed to Belle’s flanks, she bent low over the horse’s mane and raced away from him. Where she thought she could run to he had no idea. And that she even wanted to run…

He dug his knees into Black Lightning’s sides and bent low. The animal seemed to sense the desperate urgency in his master and burst forward in rollicking chase. They gained a hundred yards, and then another hundred. Minutes later Craig could see the shape of her legs pressed tightly against her horse, the wild, whipping curl of her hair. And then she switched directions and left a soaring cloud of dust behind her.

She made a mistake in doing that. A big mistake in judgment. He cut to her left, closing the distance by fifty yards, then another thirty. Both horse and rider increased their speed in one last burst of energy. In seconds, they were only a length behind her.

From nowhere, she raised both hands high in the air, balancing only with her legs on the horse. Horrified, Craig closed the last bit of distance between them, grappled an iron hand around her ribs and snatched her free before she could fall. Belle’s reins floated off as the mare continued the race into the distance, her load that much lighter.

He fought to slow his horse and at the same time kept a tight grip, very tight grip, on his wife. Black Lightning ground to a stop, his lungs heaving. Craig dropped the reins and pulled Sonia up from her precarious, and undoubtedly uncomfortable, position upside down across his thighs.

Wanting to shout at her for her damn-fool stunt, somehow he didn’t. He tugged her close instead, wrapping his arms around her, winding her legs around his. For the first time in hours, he took a deep, relaxed breath. She was as dirty as a kid let loose in a sand pit. She still smelled like Sonia, whatever soap she used, whatever shampoo she used, whatever perfume she used. Whatever the hell was underneath all of that made such a difference.

For several minutes, he just held her, until he could work up a little rage again. That wasn’t easy, when all he wanted was to love her and love her and love her…Finally, he reached up to tug at her hair. “Would you care to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing?”

He meant to sound furious; somehow his voice only sounded gravelly with emotion. He also meant for that little tug to punish just a little, but instead, his fingers ended up caressing her hair, smoothing it gently back from her temples. Her face lifted to his. He hadn’t expected to see the dance of laughter on her lips. There were tears streaking down her cheeks; in the darkness they looked like jewels.

He kissed away one tear and then another.

“Craig, I was so afraid you weren’t-”

He kissed her trembling mouth, then. “You don’t get rid of a damn fool that easily, little one.”

“You weren’t a fool. I never thought that…” Joy was pulsing through her, and relief. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She seemed to be doing both. “I’m just so glad…”

He lifted her down, then swung off the horse himself. She walked into his arms, sliding her hands around his waist, crisscrossing them around his back as if she could impress the brand of him on her own skin. They were both hot, damp-hot, horse-hot, emotion-hot…and the suddenness of night falling brought a chill that only the touch of him dispelled.

“Sonia, I’m sorry. I never, never meant to hurt you…” His lips pressed into her hair. “Come here, you,” he growled suddenly.

“I’m right here.”

“Not close enough.” His palms framed her face and forced her chin up. He claimed her mouth, hard, rough, insistent. By the time his lips lifted from hers, she felt a calm settling through her like riches. More than that his arms swept around her, warm and tender, in a hug so heartfelt and precious that she knew he really was home again. “Now, are you going to tell me why the hell you pulled that damn-fool stunt?” he murmured in her ear.

“So you could play hero. So you could swoop down out of the Western sky and play the cowboy claiming his woman.” She shifted in his arms, drawing her wrists up around his neck. There was a swift flash of disbelief and even anger in his eyes, but she pressed her finger to his lips before he could say anything. She hadn’t been playing games. Her laughter died as well as her tears; vibrant emotions played on her face. “Would you listen for a minute?” she whispered.

“I’m listening.”

“You were there. I knew you were there to catch me. And maybe it was a little foolish,” she admitted softly, “but I had to tell you-I had to show you…” She took a breath, trying to make the words somehow fit right. “Men have such strange ideas about heroes,” she said quietly. “Heroes aren’t pirates, and you can’t identify them by shining armor, and they never really slay dragons.”

When he tried to speak again, she pressed her finger firmly on his mouth.

“Being a man has nothing to do with using your fists or playing macho scenes,” she said firmly. “A real hero builds his life with strength and courage. He hurts, because he feels things so deeply. He’s vulnerable, and there’s a quality that men never have the sense to be proud of. And most of all,” she added, “a hero is there for his lady when she needs him. You were there, and I knew you would be. Now, if I have to spell out any further exactly what you are to me-”

“Sonia…” He was silent for a minute, and then his thumb brushed another tear from beneath her eye. Just one this time. “But if you ever pull a trick like that again, I swear I’ll…”

“I understand that,” she said gravely, but the soft shine of humor suddenly erased any last hint of tears.

“I’m not joking.”

“I know you’re not.” And she wasn’t smiling. “You want to protect me, Craig? Then do it. I need that from you. I need to feel free to be vulnerable with you, to show you my weaker side, to feel free just to take the risks we need to take day by day to grow together. That’s the kind of protection I need from you as a man, as my man, and I need it badly. It isn’t a showy kind of thing. It’s not as flamboyantly male as punching out some dude who looks at me sideways, or preventing me from falling off my horse.”

“Dammit, I love you. Now, would you kindly shut up?” He tugged her close. “You can quit lecturing now,” he growled in her ear, but his tone was loving.

“You’re sure you’ve got it?”

“You talk more than any woman I’ve ever met in my entire life.” The last image of the long-faced man with pale eyes dissolved in front of his eyes. Maybe that incident was always going to be more important to him than it was to her, but he now saw what an obsession he’d made of it. The woman in front of him filled his vision, a saucy shine to her eyes, a warmth and love radiating from her that cried out for him to swoop down for yet another kiss.

His lips found hers, coming home. She was trembling unaccountably. Sonia’s front was partially bravado, the saucy shine in her eyes only half real. The longer his arms stayed around her, the longer his mouth stayed on hers, the closer he rubbed his body to hers, the more her trembling intensified.

Sonia was vulnerable. His male instinct to protect her was never going to die. He’d just had a few things mixed up. She wanted his love to protect her.

She had it. For a lifetime.