Sweet Return (35 page)

Outside, Shari flopped into the backseat of Huddleston’s Well Servicing pickup, curled into a fetal position and fell sound asleep.

“Sit up front and talk to me,” Jay said to Joanna. “It’s a lonesome sixty miles from here to Hatlow.”

Soon they were on the highway headed east. “Don’t know where ol’ Dalton disappeared to,” Jay said. “I didn’t see him leave.”

Joanna wondered, too, but didn’t comment.

“I enjoyed visiting with him,” Jay said. “But he’s changed from the way he used to be.”

“How?” Joanna asked, interested now in what Jay had to say about a man who, to Joanna, was an enigma.

“He was always tough, but now he’s hard. And kind of edgy. You can’t tell what he’s thinking.”

Indeed. Joanna had been trying to read Dalton’s challenging personality from the moment she met him. Monday night’s conversation over dinner and the pictures on his computer came back to her. She remembered the grim expression on his face when they had looked at the shots he had made of the bombing victims. “I suppose he’s influenced by the places he’s been and the things he’s done. And he was in the marines.”

“It’s more than that. Dalton Parker was tough before he ever got to the marines. I’ll tell you a story about him that says it all. When I was fifteen, I was the only freshman that made the A team. I was taking all kinds of shit from the upperclassmen, but Dalton always stopped it. He was a starter, and all the other guys listened to him.

“One time in the locker room, we were suitin’ up to work out. When Dalton took off his shirt, he had half a dozen big purple marks on his back and arms. I have never had anything wrong with me that looked as sore as his back looked.

“Coach saw him and went over and asked him, ‘What happened to you, Dalton?’ But Dalton never gave an answer. He just shook his head and stared into his locker and went on with what he was doing. Then Coach said, ‘You don’t need to suit up today. Just take it easy.’ Dalton said, ‘No. I’ll work out like everybody else.’ And that was all there was to it.”

Joanna thought of what she had learned of Dalton in her encounters with him. Though he must have been no more than seventeen when Jay was a freshman, Dalton’s stoic response was no surprise. A lump formed in her throat. She had to swallow it to hold back tears. “Did he work out?”

“Yep. Just like there was nothing wrong. I’ll never forget it. None of us never said nothin’ to him and he never said nothin’, neither. But after that, I looked at him with different eyes. ’Course, the other fellas had seen it before, and so had Coach. I found out later Earl had whipped him with a belt, and that wasn’t the first time. I don’t know what he done to deserve a beatin’ like that. Knowin’ Earl’s reputation, prob’ly not much. After that, I wondered how many times ol’ Dalton come out and played when he was hurt without saying a word about it.”

“I’ve heard my mom say how mean Earl Cherry was to Dalton and Lane both,” Joanna said.

“But there was a difference, Joanna. Daddy says Earl Cherry’s responsible for the mess of a man Lane grew up to be. And he wasn’t talking about bad genes. Earl’s meanness broke Lane. And Lane just folded up inside hisself and got lost in boozin’ and bull bustin’. One of the reasons he was such a good bull rider was ’cause he just didn’t give a shit about nothin’. But Daddy says Earl never broke Dalton. If anything, it was the other way around. That’s what I mean about Dalton being tough.

“He could’ve played college ball,” Jay went on. “Hell, he might’ve been good enough to’ve played pro someday. He had the talent, had the brains, had the balls. And as for will, I guess you’d have to kill him to outdo him. It must be that Comanche blood.”

Joanna had always discounted those kinds of remarks about the Parker family’s “Comanche blood.” How could it be a factor? Dalton, Lane and their mother’s ancestral “blood” was diluted by generations. But she looked across the console, wondering whether Jay’s assessment of Dalton’s personality could be accurate. And if it were, how deeply would a mere woman have to touch him to find his soul? “Why do you think he didn’t go ahead and play college ball?”

“I don’t know for sure. Everybody talks about it being Earl and Clova’s fault, but I think, deep down, Dalton, pure and simple, didn’t want to. He wanted to do what he did. That was something I always admired about him, even when we was kids. He always did what he wanted to. It was one of the things that made him different from the rest of us.”

They rode a few more miles in dark silence, the dash lights casting the pickup cab in a low glow. Jay hadn’t even turned on the radio. “Have you ever whipped your boys?” Joanna asked, though she was certain she would have known if he had.

He snorted. “I’ve never laid a hand on those boys. And God knows they’ve needed it a time or two. I just couldn’t do it. And if I did, Shari would take after me with a butcher knife.”

An anger sprang into Joanna. Why hadn’t Clova taken after Dalton’s stepfather with a butcher knife?

Jay went on to tell stories from schooldays about football games played and girls dated. Joanna listened, but her mind was on Dalton and what he had said in front of his computer monitor Monday evening:
When I was a kid, I thought I had it rough. After I left home, and eventually the States, I found out what rough was. There’s a lot of sadistic lunatics out there. Some of them are running countries. Compared to them, Earl Cherry was a creampuff
.

Though she had barely known Dalton as a teenager, now she, too, recognized the change Jay saw in him.

Jay dropped her off at home at midnight. She washed her face, removed her clothing and slipped into her old pink chenille robe. Then she keyed on the TV to catch tomorrow’s weather report, all the while wondering if she could reach Alicia early tomorrow morning and persuade her to be responsible for the eggs one more day. After tonight in the Rusty Spur’s parking lot, she would find it more difficult than ever to face Dalton. His very presence turned her into a different person. Lord, when would he go home?

And if he didn’t go soon, what was she going to do? She had to take care of her hens and the eggs. She already worried what catastrophe being absent only two days had wrought.

Stress always made her hungry, so she went to the kitchen for ice cream. And that’s where she was when her doorbell chimed. Feeling a small drop in her stomach, she glanced at the oven clock. No one came to her house at this hour. She switched off the kitchen light, went to the door, peered through the peephole and saw a man standing on the little square porch. Who else but Dalton. A little dance of joy erupted within her.

He knocked then. She opened the door a crack and peered through. “What is it?”

“Brought you a beer.” He held up a six-pack of something.

“I don’t want any. It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

“We need to talk.”

“I already fell for that in the parking lot.”

“Joanna, c’mon, let me in.”

She pressed her forehead to the door’s edge as the erotic episode in the front seat of Clova’s pickup barged into her mind. It seemed unreal that just a few hours ago, his fingers had been inside her. Lust and her good sense were still waging a battle within her.
Get over it,
she told herself.
Just because you’ve already slept with him doesn’t mean you have to again
. “I’ll let you in here only if you promise Monday night or the parking lot won’t happen again.”

“I said ‘talk.’”

Conscious that she was naked beneath her robe, she retied it tightly, then opened the door and stood back for him to enter.

“Fridge?” he said and held up the six-pack of Coors longnecks. She could see two empty slots in the carton. “You’re still drinking? And you’re driving?”

“I’m not drunk.” He started for the kitchen as if he had been in her house before.

She followed him and clicked on the overhead light, brilliantly lighting the kitchen. She stood with her hip leaning against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. “I hope you brought back my underwear. Those panties go with a matching bra.”

He popped the top on a bottle and offered it to her with a grin. “Souvenir.”

“Of what? Nothing memorable happened.”

“No?”

He offered the beer to her again, and against her better judgment, she took it. “It’s the middle of the night. Why don’t you just go home and go to bed?”

He looked around. “So this is your house? Mom said you own it.”

“Well, me and a mortgage company.”

He stepped to the doorway leading out of the kitchen and looked across the dining room to where her TV was on in the living room. “
Law and Order
, huh? I watch that sometimes.”

She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “It’s a rerun.”

He looked back at her for a few seconds, then walked over, took the beer from her hand and set it, along with his, on the counter. “Joanna.” He braced a hand on the counter, his eyes homing in on hers. His raspy voice came low and softly. “Something’s happening with us. We need to come to terms with it.”

“And from your point of view, coming to terms would be what, hopping into bed again?”

“Maybe. That’s one way to ease the tension.”

She stepped back, putting space between them. “You know what? I can think of a hundred ways to ease tension. If nothing else, there’s always a cold shower.”

One corner of his mouth tipped into a smile. Or maybe it was a smirk. “Is that what you did when you got home tonight?”

She turned her body away from him, but she couldn’t turn her eyes from his. “No.”

“It’s only a temporary fix anyway. You know, you left me in a helluva shape out there in that parking lot.”

This encounter was headed in a direction she dared not go. She closed her eyes and arched her brow. “Dalton, please. Go home.”

He stepped in front of her, and from out of nowhere, moisture blurred her sight. Dammit, she was no match for him. A tear escaped one eye and trailed down her cheek.

He placed a knuckle under her chin and lifted it. “Don’t cry,” he said softly. He wiped her damp cheek with his big rough thumb. “I won’t hurt you.”

That wasn’t true. When she was in his company her brain went to lunch and left her defenseless. He could, and probably would, crush her and leave her as easily as he could crush a paper cup and throw it in the trash.

His hand grasped her arm and drew her to him. Weak-willed dummy that she was, she let herself be drawn. As his mouth moved closer, she looked into his face. “When I said you could come in, you promised you wouldn’t do this.”

Their gazes held for long seconds. “Tell me to stop and mean it,” he said, “and I will. If it’s what you really want.”

What she really wanted? God help her, what she wanted was
him
, and she was thrilled he wanted her, if for only a short time. She remained mute, paralyzed, unable to deny him, or herself, anything.

His lips touched hers in the gentlest of sipping kisses. She responded in kind, not minding, even savoring, the yeasty taste of beer. When his lips lifted from hers, slick devil that he was, he tugged at the belt around her waist. It easily came undone, leaving her robe hanging open. They both watched him part the robe. His fingertips brushed her skin and sent a frisson up her spine. His eyes, fierce and dark with desire, locked on the exposed slice of her nude body. Her nipples had grown rigid, a pulse beat in her belly. The tacit urgency that thrummed around them almost sucked the air from the space between them. “See?” he said softly. “You’re glad I came by. I wouldn’t have if I’d thought you’d turn me away.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. By letting him into her house, she had already acknowledged he had defeated her best intentions. Tears rushed to her eyes again. “Damn you,” she said.

His hands slid beneath the robe and she moved against him as if he were a lodestone.

“I want you,” he whispered.

His powerful arms wrapped around her in an unyielding embrace. She felt his strength, his solid body, the erection that felt like steel against her bare belly. His mouth covered hers and his hands moved down, his fingers dug into her bottom as his tongue swept deeply into her mouth and rubbed against hers in a sexual rhythm.

She surrendered her last fraction of resistance, hooked a foot around his leg and rubbed herself against his rigid fly. They went at each other like animals, tongues dueling, bodies melded. The room began to spin and she knew she was lost. Desperate for breath, she tore her mouth from his and pushed away, staring into his eyes.

“What?” he said, panting.

“You remember that shotgun in my egg-washing room?” Her voice came out a flutter.

“If there’s anything I never forget, it’s an armed female.”

“God as my witness, Dalton Parker. If you break my heart, I’ll shoot you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

She switched on a bedside lamp and turned back the covers while he jerked through yanking off his boots, sinewy muscles moving in his forearms as he worked. She couldn’t imagine that he was nervous, but she saw his strong hands trembling. As he shucked his jeans and shorts, she let her eyes feast on his body in all of its masculine beauty. She loved looking at him, couldn’t keep from staring at his erection. The idea that she could arouse him so thoroughly sent her on a rarely felt power trip that made her giddy.

He slid between the covers and looked up at her, waiting. She dropped her robe and started to join him, but he said, “Wait. Let me see you. I haven’t gotten to look at you.”

She stood there for a few seconds, her eyes closed as she felt his gaze rove over her nakedness. “You’re a beautiful woman,” he said.

She opened her eyes, he threw open the covers and she crawled in and met him in the center of her queen-size bed. As she pressed herself to him, his finely honed torso felt familiar, as if she had known it many more nights than one.

No words passed between them. What was left to be said? They both knew what they wanted. Without inhibition, she showed him the passion she felt, the pleasure he gave her, sighing and moaning as his hands and fingers tantalized her sensitive places. She touched him, too, cradling his hairy scrotum in her palms, teasing his thick penis with her fingers in ways she had never done before. He groaned and hissed his delight. Fire blazed between them. Need consumed them. When neither of them could stand it any longer, she urged him between her thighs.