One Season And Dynasties Collection

Some small but powerful instinct for self-preservation clamored at him that maybe he better stop this while he still could, before all these years of pent-up desire burst through his control like irrigation water through a busted wheel line. He couldn’t completely lose his head here.

He drew in a sharp breath and eased away from her. Her features were a pale blur in the moonlight but her lips were swollen from his kiss, her eyes half-closed. Her hair was tousled from his hands and she looked completely luscious.

He nearly groaned aloud at the effort it took to slide away from her when his entire body was yelling at him to pull her closer.

She opened her eyes and gazed at him, pupils dilated and her ragged breathing just about the most erotic sound he’d ever heard.

He saw the instant awareness returned to her eyes. They widened with shock and something else, then color soaked her cheeks.

She untangled her hands from around his neck and eased away from him.

“It’s been a long time since I made out with a pretty girl in a pickup truck,” he said into the suddenly heavy silence. “I forgot how awkward it could be.”

She swallowed hard. “Right,” she said slowly. “It’s the pickup truck making things awkward.”

They both knew it was much more than that. It was the years of history between them and the weight of a friendship that was important to both of them.

“I so wish you hadn’t done that,” she said in a small voice.

Her words carved out another little slice of his heart.

“Which? Kissed you? Or stopped?”

She shifted farther away from him and turned her face to look out at the town below them.

Instead of answering him directly, she offered up what seemed to him like a completely random change of topic.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

Of course he remembered. Most guys remembered the days that left them feeling as if they had been run over by a tractor.

“Yes. You and your sisters had only been here with Mary and Claude a day or two.”

“It was February 18, a week after our mother’s funeral. We had been in Idaho exactly forty-eight hours.”

She remembered it so exactly? He wasn’t sure what to think about that. He only remembered that he had been sent by his mother to drop off a meal for “Mary’s poor nieces.”

The whole community knew what had happened to her and her sisters—that their parents had been providing medical care in a poor jungle town in Colombia when the entire family had been kidnapped by rebels looking for a healthy ransom.

After all these years, he still didn’t know everything that had happened to her in that rebel camp. She didn’t talk about it and he didn’t ask. He did know her father had been shot and killed by rebels during a daring rescue mission orchestrated by US Navy SEALs, including a very young Rafe Santiago, now Hope’s husband.

He didn’t know much more now than he had that first time he met her. When the news broke a few months earlier and her family returned to the US, it had been big news in town. How could it be otherwise, given that her father had grown up in Pine Gulch and everyone knew the family’s connection to Claude and Mary?

Unfortunately, the family’s tragedy hadn’t ended with her father’s death. After their rescue, her mother had been diagnosed with an aggressive cancer that might have been treatable if she hadn’t been living in primitive conditions for years—and if she hadn’t spent the last month as a hostage in a rebel camp.

That had been Chase’s mother’s opinion, anyway. She had been on her way out of town to his own father’s cancer treatment but had told him to drop off a chicken rice casserole and a plate of brownies to the Nichols family.

He remembered being frustrated at the order. Why couldn’t she have dropped it off on her way out of town? Didn’t he have enough to do on the ranch, since he was basically running things single-handedly?

Claude had answered the door, with the phone held to his ear, and told him Mary was in the kitchen and to go on back. He had complied, not knowing the next few moments would change his life.

He vividly remembered that moment when he had seen Faith standing at the sink with Mary, peeling potatoes.

She had been slim and pretty and fragile, with huge green eyes, that sweet, soft mouth and short, choppy blond hair—which she later told him she had cut herself with a butter knife sharpened on a brick, because of lice in the rebel camp.

He also suspected it had been an effort to avoid unwanted attention from the rebels, though she had never told him that. He couldn’t imagine they couldn’t see past her choppy hair to the rare beauty beneath.

Yeah, a guy tended to remember the moment he lost his heart.

“I gave you a ride into town,” he said now. “Mary needed a gallon of milk or something.”

“That’s what she said, anyway,” Faith said, her mouth tilted up a little. “I think she only wanted me to get out of the house and have a look at our new community and also give me a chance to talk to someone around my own age.”

Not that close in age. He had been eighteen and had felt a million years older.

She had been so serious, he remembered, her eyes solemn and watchful and filled with a pain that had touched his heart.

“Whatever the reason, I was happy to help out.”

“Everyone else treated us like we were going to crack apart at any moment. You were simply kind. You weren’t overly solicitous and you didn’t treat me like I had some kind of contagious disease.”

She turned to face him, still smiling softly at the memories. “That was the best afternoon I’d had in forever. You told me jokes and you showed me the bus stop and the high school and the places where the kids in Pine Gulch liked to hang out. At the grocery store, you introduced me to everyone we met and made sure cranky Mr. Gibbons didn’t cheat me, since I didn’t have a lot of experience with American money.”

She had been an instant object of attention everywhere they went, partly because she was new to town and partly because she looked so exotic, with a half-dozen woven bracelets on each wrist, the choppy hair, her wide, interested eyes.

“A few days later, you came back and said you were heading into town and asked if Aunt Mary needed you to come with me to pick anything else up.”

That had basically been a transparent ploy to spend more time with her, which everyone else had figured out but Faith.

“That meant so much to me,” she said. “Your own father was dying but that didn’t stop you from reaching out and trying to help me acclimatize. I’ve never forgotten how kind you were to me.”

Was it truly kindness, when he was the one who had benefited most? “It couldn’t have been easy to find yourself settled in a small Idaho town, after spending most of your childhood wandering around the world.”

“It was easier for me than it was for Hope and Celeste, I think. All I ever wanted was to stay in one place for a while, to have the chance to make friends finally. Friends like you.”

She gave him a long, steady look. “You are my oldest and dearest friend, Chase. Our friendship is one of the most important things in my life.”

He wanted to squeeze her hand, to tell her he agreed with her sentiments completely, but he didn’t dare touch her again right now.

“Ditto,” he said gruffly.

She drew in a breath that seemed to hitch a little. She looked out the windshield, where a few clouds had begun to gather, spitting out stray snowflakes that spiraled down and caught the light of the stars.

“That’s why I have to ask you not to kiss me again.”

Chapter Seven

Though she didn’t raise her voice, her hard-edged words seemed to echo through his pickup truck.

I have to ask you not to kiss me again.

She meant what she said. He knew that tone of voice. It was the same one she used with the kids when meting out punishment for behavioral infractions or with cattle buyers when they tried to negotiate and offered a price below market value.

Her mind was made up and she wouldn’t be swayed by anything he had to say.

Tension gripped his shoulders and he didn’t know what the hell to say.

“That’s blunt enough, I guess,” he finally answered. “Funny, but you seemed to be into it at the moment. I guess I misread the signs.”

Her mouth tightened. “It’s a strange night. Neither of us is acting like ourselves. Can we just...leave it at that?”

That was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her again until she couldn’t think straight.

He hadn’t misread any signs and they both knew it. After that first moment of shock, she returned the kiss with an enthusiasm and eagerness that had left him stunned and hungry.

“Can you just take me home?” she asked in a low voice.

“If that’s what you want,” he said.

“It is,” she answered tersely.

A few moments ago she had wanted him.

She was attracted to him. Lately he had been almost sure of it but some part of him had worried his own feelings for her were clouding his judgment. That kiss and her response told him the sexual spark hadn’t been one-sided.

Nice to know he was right about that, at least.

She was attracted to him but she didn’t want to be. How did a guy work past that conundrum?

The task suddenly seemed insurmountable.

He put the pickup in gear and focused on driving instead of on the growing realization that she might never be willing to accept him as anything more than her oldest and dearest friend.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time he accepted that and moved on with his life.

Though his features remained set and hard as he drove her back to the Star N, Chase carried on a casual conversation with her about the new horse, about a bit of gossip he heard about cattle futures at the stockgrowers’ party, about Addie’s Christmas presents that still needed to be wrapped.

Under other circumstances, she might have been quite proud of her halfway intelligent responses—especially when she really wanted to collapse into a boneless, quivering heap on the truck seat.

She couldn’t stop remembering that kiss—the heat and the magic and the wild intensity of it.

Her heartbeat still seemed unnaturally loud in her ears and she hadn’t quite managed to catch her breath, though she could almost manage to string two thoughts together now.

She felt very much like a tiny island in the middle of a vast arctic river just beginning the spring thaw, with chunks of ice and fast-flowing water buffeting against it in equal parts, bringing life back to the frozen landscape.

She didn’t want to come to life again. She wanted that river of need to stay submerged under a hard layer of impenetrable ice forever.

Knowing that hollow ache was still there, that her sexuality hadn’t shriveled up and died with Travis, completely terrified her.

She was a little angry about it, too, if she were honest. Why couldn’t she just resume the state of affairs of the last thirty months, that sense of suspended animation?

This was Chase. Her best friend. The man she relied on for a hundred different things. How could she possibly laugh and joke with him like always when she would now be remembering just how his mouth had slid across hers, the glide of his tongue, the heat of his muscles against her chest.

She didn’t want that river of need to come to churning, seething life again.

Yes, her world had been cold and sterile since Travis died, but it was safe.

She felt like she was suffocating suddenly, as if that wild flare of heat between them had consumed all the oxygen.

She rolled her window down a crack and closed her eyes at the welcome blast of cold air.

“Too warm?” he asked.

Oh, yes. He didn’t know the half of it. “A little,” she answered in a grave understatement.

He turned the fan down on the heating system just as her phone buzzed. She pulled it from the small beaded handbag Celeste had offered for the occasion.

It was a text from her sister: Girls are asleep. Don’t rush home. Have fun.

She glanced at the message, then slid her phone back into the totally impractical bag.

“Problem?” he asked.

“Not really. I think Celeste was just checking in. She said the girls are asleep.”

“I hope Addie was good.”

“She’s never any trouble. Really, we love having her around. She always seems to set a good example for my kids.”

“Even Barrett?”

She relaxed a little. Talking about their children was much easier than discussing everything else.

“He can be such a rascal when Addie’s there. I don’t get it. He teases both of them mercilessly. I try to tell him to cut it out but the truth is I think he has a little crush on her.”

“Older women. They’re nothing but trouble. I had the worst crush on Maggie Cruz but she never paid me the slightest bit of attention. Why would she? I was in fifth grade and she was in eighth and we were on totally different planets.”

The only crush she could remember having was the son of the butcher in the last village where they’d lived in Colombia. He had dark, soulful eyes and curly dark hair and always gave her all the best cuts when she went to the market for her family.

That seemed another lifetime ago. She couldn’t even remember being that girl who once smiled at a cute boy.

By the time Chase pulled up to the Star N a few moments later, her hormones had almost stopped zinging around.

He put the truck in Park and opened his door.

“Since Addie’s asleep, you don’t have to come in,” she said quickly, before he could climb out. “You don’t really have to walk me to the door like this was a real date.”

Why did she have to say that? The words seemed to slip out from nowhere and she wanted to wince. She didn’t need to remind him of the awkwardness of the evening.

He said nothing, though she didn’t miss the way his mouth tightened and his eyes cooled a fraction before he completely ignored what she said and climbed out anyway.

Everything between them had changed and it made her chest ache with regret.

“Thanks, Chase,” she said as they walked side by side through the cold night. “I had a really great time.”

“You don’t have to lie. It was a disaster from start to finish.”

The grim note in his voice made her sad all over again. She sighed. “None of that was your fault. Only mine.”

“The old, it’s not you, it’s me line?” he asked as they reached the door. “Really, Faith? You can’t be more original than that?”

“It is me,” she whispered, knowing he deserved the truth no matter how painful. “I’m such a coward and I always have been.”

He made a low sound of disbelief. “A coward. You.”

“I am!”

“This is the same woman who woke up the day after her husband’s funeral, put on her boots and went to work—and who hasn’t stopped since?”

“What choice did I have? The ranch was our livelihood. Someone had to run it.”

“Right. Just like somebody jumped into a river to save a villager in Guatemala while everybody else was standing on the shore wringing their hands.”

She stared at him. “How did you... Where did you hear that?”

“Hope told me once. I think it was after Travis died. She also told me how you took more than one beating while you were all being held hostage because you stepped up to take responsibility for something she or Celeste had done.”

She was the oldest. It had been her job to protect her sisters. What else could she do especially since it was her fault they had all been taken hostage to begin with?

She had told that cute boy she had a crush on the day they were supposed to go to Bogota so her mother could see a doctor and that they would probably be leaving for good in a few weeks.

She had hoped maybe he might want to write to her. Instead, he must have told the psychotic rebel leader their plans. The next time she saw that boy, he had been proudly wearing ragged army fatigues and carrying a Russian-made submachine gun.

“You’re not a coward, Faith,” Chase said now. “No matter how much you might try to convince yourself of that.”

A stray snowflake landed on her cheek and she brushed it away. “You are my best friend, Chase. I’m so afraid of destroying that friendship, like I’ve screwed up everything else.”

He gave her a careful look that made her wish she hadn’t said anything, had just told him good-night and slipped into the house.

“Can we... More than anything, I would like to go back to the way things were a few weeks ago. Without all this...awkwardness. When we were just Faith and Chase.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You really think we can do that, after that kiss?”

She shivered a little, from more than simply the cold night. “I would like to try. Please, Chase.”

“How do two people take a step backward? Something is always lost.”

“Can’t we at least give it a shot? At least until after the holidays?”

She hoped he couldn’t hear the begging tone of her voice that seemed so loud to her.

“I won’t wait forever, Faith.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Fine. We can talk again after the New Year.”

Her relief was so fierce that she wanted to weep. At least she would have his friendship through the holidays. Maybe in a few more weeks, she would be able to find the courage to face a future without his constant presence.

“Thank you. That’s the best gift anyone could give me this year.”

She reached up to give him a casual kiss on the cheek, the kind she had given him dozens of times before. At the last minute, he turned his head, surprise in his eyes, and her kiss landed on the corner of his mouth.

Instantly, the mood shifted between them and once more she was aware of the heat of him and the coiled muscles and the ache deep within her for him and only him.

He kissed her fully, his mouth a warm, delicious refuge against the cold night. His scent surrounded her—leather and pine and sexy, masculine cowboy—and she desperately wanted to lean into his strength and surrender to the delicious heat that stirred instantly to life again.

Too soon, he stepped away.

“Good night,” he said, his eyes dark in the glow from the porch light. He opened the door for her and waited until she managed to force her wobbly knees to carry her inside, then he turned around and walked to his pickup truck.

She really wanted nothing more than to shrug out of Celeste’s luxurious coat, kick off her high heels, slip away to her room and climb into bed for the next week or two.

Unfortunately, a welcoming party waited for her inside. Celeste, Flynn and Aunt Mary were at the table with mugs of hot chocolate steaming into the air and what looked like a fierce game of Scrabble scattered around the table—which hardly seemed a fair battle since Celeste was a librarian and an author with a freaky-vast vocabulary.

All three looked up when she walked into the kitchen.

“Chase didn’t come in?” Mary asked, clear disappointment on her wrinkled face.

Sometimes Faith thought her great-aunt had a little crush on Chase herself. What other reason did she have for always inviting him over?

“No,” she said abruptly.

How on earth was she going to face him, again, now that they had kissed twice?

“How was your date?” Celeste asked. Though the question was casual enough, her sister gave her a searching look and she suddenly wanted desperately to confide in her.

She couldn’t do it, at least not with Flynn and Mary listening in. “Fine,” she answered.

“Only fine?” Mary asked, clearly surprised.

“Fun,” she amended quickly. “Dinner was delicious, of course, and we danced a bit.”

“Chase is a great dancer,” Mary said, her eyes lighting up. “I could have danced with him all night at Celeste’s wedding, except Agatha Lindley kept trying to cut in. I don’t think he wanted to dance with her at all but he was just too nice.”

“She was there tonight, though she didn’t cut in. Unless she tried it when he was busy dancing with Ella Baker.”

“Ella Baker?” Celeste frowned. “I don’t think I know her.”

“She’s Curt Baker’s daughter. She’s moved to Pine Gulch to look after her father.”

“The girls at the salon were talking about her when I went for my color this week,” Mary said. “She teaches music or something, doesn’t she?”

With a jolt, Faith suddenly remembered her conversation with the woman at the beginning of the party, which seemed like a dozen lifetimes ago. “Oh! I have news. Big news! I can’t believe I almost forgot.”

“You probably had other things on your mind,” Flynn murmured, his voice so dry that she shot him a quick look.

Did her lips look as swollen as they felt, tight and achy and full? She really hoped not.

“You owe me so big,” she said. “I begged Ella Baker to help out with the Christmas program. I told her my sisters were desperate and she totally agreed to do it!”

Celeste’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? What’s wrong with the woman?”

“Nothing. She was very gracious about it and even said it sounded like fun.”

“Right. Fun,” Celeste said with a shake of her head.

“You had fun, don’t deny it,” Mary said. “Look how it ended up for you. Married to a hot contractor, tool belt and all.”

“Thanks, my dear.” Flynn gave a slow grin and picked up Mary’s hand and kissed the back of it in a totally un-Flynn-like gesture that made Celeste laugh and Mary blush and pull her hand away.

“That was a definite side benefit,” Celeste murmured, and Flynn gave her a private smile that made the temperature in the room shoot up a dozen degrees or so.

“Well, I’m afraid we don’t exactly have more hot contractors to go around for Ella Baker,” Faith said. “Though I do think she would be absolutely perfect for Chase. I told him so, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to want to hear it.”

All three of them stared at Faith as if she had just unleashed a rabid squirrel in the kitchen.

“You told Chase you think this Ella Baker would be perfect for him,” Celeste repeated, with such disbelief in her voice that Faith squirmed.

“Yes. She seems like a lovely person,” she said, more than a little defensive.

“I’m sure she is,” Celeste said. “That doesn’t mean you should have tried to set Chase up with her while the two of you were out together on a date. I’ll admit I didn’t have a lot of experience before I met Flynn but even I know most guys in general probably wouldn’t appreciate that kind of thing. Chase in particular probably didn’t want to hear you suggest other women you think he ought to date.”

Why Chase in particular? She frowned, though she was aware she had botched the entire evening from the get-go. How was she possibly going to fix things between them?

“We’re friends,” she retorted. “That’s the kind of things friends do for each other, pick out potential dating prospects.”

None of them seemed particularly convinced and she was too exhausted to press the point. It was none of their business anyway.

She pulled off Celeste’s coat and hung it over one of the empty chairs and also pulled all her personal things out of the little evening bag.

“Thanks for letting me use your coat and bag.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime.”

Right. She wasn’t going to another stockgrowers’ party. Ever.

“I’m going to go change into something comfortable.”

“I’ll come help you with the zipper. That one sticks, if I remember correctly.”

“I don’t need help,” she said.

“That, my dear, is a matter of opinion.”

Celeste rose and followed her up the stairs. As she helped Faith out of the dress, her sister talked of the children and what they had done that evening and about the latest controversy at the library.