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“You’d better get dressed,” she advised in a calm voice. “It’s late, and she’ll be wondering where you are.”
“To hell with Tara right now.” Ty used the name Jessy had avoided while unconsciously admitting he would be returning to his wife. “What about you, Jessy? Will you be all right?”
Jessy looked at him, and the desire to smile was strong. If she told him she wouldn’t be, she foresaw how Ty would respond. Men were so pragmatic in their dealings with life, until it came to women. There they became thoroughly impractical, always promising to make life easy for them and fully believing that they could do it. Despite all her romantic fantasies, she had a woman’s insight into life and knew there would be pain and loneliness in the years ahead as well as the blessings of times like this.
“I’m strong, Ty. I’ll do just fine.” She assured him instead of the other way around. She had made her bargain, and she was ready to pay for it. Tomorrow’s heartache didn’t frighten her.
He wanted to find something beneath that steadiness she showed him. It grated him slightly that she didn’t need him, that she had a sustaining strength which enabled her to be independent of him. It was difficult for him to come to terms with her equality in things he considered male.
Yet there was no game playing in Jessy, no strings for him to chase. He couldn’t help remembering that the one time Tara had been direct with him about her needs and demands, he had married her. The knowledge bothered him.
There was nothing he could say. He turned and walked slowly back to the bed where his clothes lay. There was no figuring Jessy out. There was no figuring women outt But he knew he’d be back to seek the high sense of ease she gave him, and the good feeling that lighted a warm fire inside him. But he didn’t say so. He didn’t need to.
There was a faint noise in the upper hallway. Tara paused, ceasing to impatiently flip through pages of the magazine to listen intently, stiff and poised, for the sound of Ty’s return. Another board creaked. She couldn’t tell whether it was caused by the pressure of a foot or if it was simply the groanings of an old house. Rising, she dropped the magazine on the long daybed, the fur-trimmed robe of heavy satin falling softly about her legs.
She went to the door and pulled it open, a surfeit of pride showing in the high carriage of her body. But it was Cat who was creeping stealthily toward the stairs, bundled in a heavy coat, her black hair tucked under a white woolen cap. She raised a silencing finger to her lips when she saw Tara in the doorway, green eyes silently pleading with Tara not to give her presence away.
“Repp’s waiting for me,” Cat whispered. “Don’t tell Daddy, please.” After the fight she’d caused, Cathleen had been forbidden any contact with her older beau as punishment. Tara was not surprised to discover the young girl was defying the orders to keep secret assignations with her cowboy. It was also the least of Tara’s interests, so she simply closed the door. Tensely lacing her fingers together, she paced to the window. The blackness of the huge night sky threatened to swallow her, and she turned back to the light.
When she reached the base of the stairs, Cat froze. There was a light in the den. Her heart seemed to trip over itself, unable to find its normal beat as she tiptoed past the light, peering anxiously into the room. She spied Stricklin clad in a high-necked burgundy sweater, standing at the bookshelves with his back to the door while he perused the titles.
Cat opened the front door a crack and squeezed through the narrow slit—the trickiest part was slipping outside without being heard. She winced at the small click the door made when she closed it. Then she waited, holding her breath and listening for the sound of footsteps coming to investigate the noise. A minute longer, and she expelled the breath in relief. The cold air turned it into a gray-white vapor that swirled and vanished on the night wind.
Moving silently, she traveled the length of the veranda and jumped to the ground, wrapped in the house’s dark shadow. In a crouching run, she angled across the snow-crusted grass behind The Homestead, heading for the flat plateau and the isolated airplane hangar that had become their meeting place, far from observing eyes and chance discoveries. The cold air stung her lungs as she hurried to keep the rendezvous.
Hunkered down in a small pocket, Culley O’Rourke held the cigarette cupped in his hand, concealing the glowing red tip so its light wouldn’t give away his presence. One by one, the lights had gone off in The Homestead, until only an upstairs light was burning. A minute before, he’d been about to steal away to where he’d left his horse tethered. Then a light had unexpectedly appeared in the den downstairs. He stayed to see if this stirring of activity was the beginning of something more.
Intent on the big house, he almost didn’t see the dark shape moving furtively away from it. Motionless, Culley waited until it had passed his shadowy pocket of ground, catching a recognizable glimpse of Cathleen’s oval face, and he trailed silently after her.
When she reached the hangar, Cat was out of breath, her face numb from the cold wind. The planes in the open shed stood silently in a row, looming shapes in the night’s shadows. She walked swiftly between them, cutting through to the small office and storage area in the back. She opened the door and slipped inside, at last sheltered from the numbing wind. Her eyes searched the darkness as she paused.
“Repp?” Her whispered call brought the sound of movement from her right. Cat turned toward it as a dark form separated itself from the shadows.
“I had almost decided you weren’t going to show up.” The long wait had brought an edge to his voice.
“I know. I was afraid you might have left. I swear no one in that house goes to bed at a decent hour anymore.” Impatience was in her voice, too. Her face was pasty and white in the office shadows, but they didn’t dare turn on a light. “Tara was still up, waiting for Ty to come home, when I slipped out of the house. And Stricklin was prowling around in the den. Sometimes I wonder if he’s human. I get the feeling he’s a robot and doesn’t need to eat or sleep like the rest of us.”
“Are you sure you weren’t seen?” Repp demanded, then muttered in a dark kind of irritation, “I must be crazy to let you talk me into meeting like this.”
At last realizing that he would not bridge the space between them, Cat took the necessary steps and unashamedly wrapped her arms around the turned-up collar of his coat. She felt the pressure of his hands on her hips, neither pulling her closer nor pushing her away.
“I don’t care how or where we meet as long as we can see each other.” It was a dramatic declaration, but it was true. She would risk anything, even her father’s wrath, to be with Repp.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” The low protest was almost groaned, the rashness of his urges threatening to overwhelm his control of them. “You are too young, Cat.”
“I’m just as old as my mother was when she got pregnant with Ty.”
Cat tormented him with the knowledge.
“You oughta be spanked for goading a man with such talk,” he accused roughly, more disturbed than he cared to admit, and she knew it. “You’re just spoiling for trouble, aren’t you? Someday you’re going to say that to the wrong man and he’s going to take you up on it.”
“But I’ve never said it to anyone but you. You’re the only one I ever want to say that to,” she insisted and arched herself closer. “It’s bad enough that my parents treat me like a child. I’m a woman, Repp. And I love you.”
The soft declaration, coupled with her nearness, was too much. His hard-fought caution lost the battle with his driving impulses as his mouth came hungrily onto hers. The heated contact soon chased the numbing cold from their skin. The eager response of her lips broke through his restraint as he used her roughly, man to woman, without thought for her inexperience. She drew back, suddenly tense, then came again with her own rush of feeling. But he caught a breath of cold sanity.
“No, Cat.” His fingers dug hard into the sleeves of her coat to stop her from coming against him. “That’s enough!”
“Why, Repp? Why does it have to be enough?” she protested.
