Faron Page 9

  You could have heard a pin drop when he said, “And this is Belinda Prescott, my stepmother.”

  “That’s the ugly stepmother?” Jesse whispered. His wife elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up.

  It was Garth who took control of what could have become a very awkward situation. “I’m pleased to meet you, Belinda.”

  But Belinda didn’t think he was at all pleased. She didn’t know when she had ever met such a granite-faced man. His greeting was formal and his manner stiff. Belinda felt like crying. She didn’t belong here. She wasn’t part of this family in any way, shape or form. When she would have turned and run, a beautiful young woman with long blond hair and widely spaced gray eyes reached out and grasped her hand.

  “Hi. I’m Candice—Candy Baylor. I guess you and I are the only two people here who aren’t family.”

  Candy smiled, and Belinda immediately felt better.

  “I’ve been working at Hawk’s Way this summer, and I can imagine how you must feel, meeting this rowdy bunch for the first time.”

  “They are a little overwhelming,” Belinda conceded.

  “I don’t know if you remember me,” Faron said, extending a hand to Candy. “I’m Faron.” Faron shot a look at Garth as though to say “What’s she doing here?” But Garth’s face remained stony.

  “Of course I remember you,” Candy said. “Last time I was here with my father you yanked my braids at the breakfast table.”

  Faron grinned. “Guilty. Was that only three years ago? You’ve grown up a little since then.”

  Garth interrupted, saying, “I think it’s time you showed Maddy and Belinda where they’ll be staying.”

  Faron was intrigued by Garth’s possessive attitude toward Candy. That was a situation he intended to find out more about later. “Come on upstairs, ladies, and I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  After taking Maddy to her room, Faron led Belinda to hers.

  Belinda was relieved to see that she and Maddy were staying on a wing of the house that was separated from the rest of the family. She felt less pleased when she saw that Faron had settled Maddy in a room that was at the opposite end of the hall from hers. She looked at the room next to hers and said, “Who sleeps there?”

  “I do,” Faron answered.

  Belinda turned startled violet eyes on him. “I thought the family was on a separate wing.”

  “The rest of them are.”

  Belinda stared at him for a moment. “Faron—”

  He leaned over and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Don’t ask me to move you somewhere else, Princess. I want you close to me.”

  He didn’t plead, he didn’t cajole. Just that simple request. Belinda remembered Fiona’s advice. And what Madelyn had said. It was time to act on her feelings for the Cowboy. Time to take a chance. “All right,” she said at last. “I’ll stay here.”

  She heard his exhaled sigh of relief and smiled inwardly. So, he wasn’t as confident as he had led her to believe. Somehow that made her feel better. “Do you suppose there’s something I can do to help with supper?”

  “As soon as you finish unpacking, come on downstairs to the kitchen, and I’m sure Charlie will put you to work.”

  “I can’t wait to meet the man who taught you how to stack a dishwasher,” Belinda said with a grin.

  Faron kissed her again, then turned and left her. If he didn’t go now, he was afraid he wouldn’t go at all.

  The chaos in the kitchen seemed familiar to Belinda, who had so recently been visited by her siblings and their families. Everyone was there pitching in to get things on the table except Garth and Candy, who had headed for the barn to check on a mare that was expected to foal in the next day or so.

  Belinda was amazed and amused at the contrast between Faron’s family and her own. Maybe it was because she had sisters, but there seemed to be a lot more roughhousing among Faron’s clan. Even Tate, Faron’s youngest sister, could hold her own with her brothers. When Faron threw a handful of potato peelings at her, she responded by throwing an entire peeled potato back at him.

  Faron simply caught the potato and tossed it to Jesse, who tossed it to Honey, who tossed it to Adam, who tossed it back to Tate. She handed it primly to Charlie One Horse, who cut it into four pieces and dumped it into the pot of boiling water on the stove. Belinda didn’t know when she’d had so much fun making a meal.

  It was harder for Belinda to cope with her feelings when she watched Honey and Tate nursing their babies after supper. They sat in the parlor, a blanket thrown over their shoulders in deference to her presence, and suckled their children in full view of the Whitelaw men and Tate’s husband, Adam. As though it was the most normal thing in the world for two nursing mothers to be sitting in a roomful of cowboys.

  And it was.

  Belinda’s chest ached with the feelings that assailed her. She met Faron’s eyes across the room. For the first time in eight years, Belinda allowed herself to imagine what her life might have been like if she had waited to fall in love and marry. It was a wonderful picture, full of love and laughter…and children.

  Suddenly she couldn’t stay any longer. She rose as quietly as she could and left the parlor, heading upstairs. She felt, as much as heard, Faron coming up the stairs behind her. She pretended she didn’t know he was there, just kept putting one foot in front of the other until she reached her bedroom. Just as Faron caught up to her she stepped inside her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

  She leaned back against the door, closed her eyes and listened. She could hear him breathing on the other side of the door.

  “Princess,” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she whispered back. “Good night, Cowboy.”

  She could almost feel the tension on the other side of the wooden panel. She had known what memories it would conjure if she called him Cowboy. She felt her body rouse as she remembered their lovemaking.

  “Princess.” His voice was hoarse. “Open the door.”

  She turned and pressed her forehead against the cool painted surface. Her hand was on the knob. She would have turned it, except she heard Maddy call to him.

  “Is Belinda all right?”

  “She’s fine, Maddy. Just a little tired, I think.”

  “I’m a little tired myself. Good night, Faron.”

  “Good night, Maddy.”

  Belinda waited and listened. A moment later she opened the door. But Faron was gone.

  I should have opened the door right away, as soonas he called. I should have invited him inside. I want him here with me. I don’t want to be alone tonight.

  All she had to do was go downstairs and find him. All she had to do…

  Belinda stripped and found her nightgown. But she didn’t put it on. Instead, she slipped naked between the sheets. And dreamed of a certain cowboy making love to a woman he called Princess.

  She must have been more tired than she had thought, because the next thing she knew, Faron was knocking on the connecting door between their rooms.

  The connecting door!

  Belinda scrambled into a sitting position on the four-poster bed and clutched the sheets to her naked body as the door opened and Faron stuck his head inside.

  “When I didn’t hear anything moving in here I thought I’d better make sure you were awake. The convoy to the church leaves in about an hour.”

  “I can’t believe you put us in connecting rooms!” Belinda said.

  The sheet slipped on one side as she clutched it tighter, and Faron was treated to a glimpse of a pink aureole. “I’ve made no secret how I feel about you, Princess.”

  “What will your family think?”

  “My family will mind their own business.”

  A call from downstairs drifted across the tense silence between them.

  “Faaaarrrooon! Your eggs are done,” Tate yelled.

  “See you at breakfast, Princess.” He grinned and pulled the connecting door closed just before the pillow Belinda had th
rown landed against it.

  If Belinda had thought the Whitelaws would act any more civilized at breakfast than they had at supper, she was sadly mistaken.

  There was raw egg dripping down the front of the refrigerator, and the shell lay cracked and broken on a red tile floor dusted with a fine layer of flour. To her chagrin she realized she was sorry she hadn’t been a part of the juvenile food fight.

  “Coffee?” Tate asked as Belinda stepped into the kitchen.

  “Yes, thanks.”

  “You look absolutely gorgeous!” Tate said.

  Belinda froze as every male eye in the room turned to stare at her. She had put her hair up in an elegant twist and was wearing a sheath that outlined her figure, even though it concealed her from neck to knee.

  Faron was surprised at the surge of protectiveness that arose when Belinda became the object of all eyes. He slipped an arm around her waist and said, “And she’s as nice as she is beautiful.”

  The warning was there. Unspoken but irrefutable. She’s mine and I protect what’s mine.

  It was Charlie One Horse who diffused the tension in the room. He walked over to Maddy and said, “I ’spect I gotta vote that this here is the purtiest woman in the room.”

  Maddy blushed prettily and for a moment the glow in her eyes made her look exceedingly lovely.

  Not to be outdone, Jesse announced that Honey was the sweetest in the room, and Adam countered that Tate was without a doubt the cutest one there. Until the only woman in the room who hadn’t been complimented was Candy Baylor.

  She stood by the stove, spatula in hand, staring at Garth and waiting.

  But he offered not a word of praise to the young woman. At last he turned to Tate and said, “We’d better get moving if we’re going to be on time. I’ll go get the car.”

  He turned on his heel and stalked out the screen door, letting it slam behind him.

  Candy’s face paled as she stared after him.

  There was a moment of awful silence before Belinda said, “It’s hard to tell which needs a dipping worse, him or the floor of this kitchen.”

  Faron was at first stunned that Belinda would take on his eldest brother and then amused by the way she had chosen to do it. His grin soon found company, and the tension eased as everyone finished their breakfasts and divided into groups for the trip to church.

  Belinda noticed that Candy avoided going in Garth’s car, and she couldn’t blame the woman. It wasn’t until Garth had refused to play the game this morning that she had realized there was more going on between the couple than met the eye.

  The christening was held before the church service began. Belinda sat in the first pew with Candy, Madelyn and the rest of the Whitelaw family. Faron stood beside his sister, Tate, and held her son, Brett, in his arms.

  Belinda overheard Faron speaking to Tate as she handed the baby into his care.

  “Thanks, Tate, for wanting me to be Brett’s godfather even though—”

  Tate had hugged him fiercely, the baby caught between them. “You’re my brother, and I love you. Nothing—nothing—is going to change that.”

  Faron’s eyes were moist when Tate let go of him.

  Belinda was sitting at an angle where she could see Faron when he stood before the church altar. The love there, the exquisite tenderness on his face as he looked down on the child in his arms, moved her to tears. She listened as Faron promised to stand in the stead of the baby’s parents in the event it was necessary, to be godfather to Brett Patrick Philips.

  After the church service, the Whitelaw family was surprisingly subdued, perhaps awed by the dignity of the christening ceremony, as Belinda had been herself. But the celebration that afternoon, a picnic in the backyard under a spreading live oak, was as rowdy as any drunken brawl she had seen in the diner where she had worked in Casper. Only none of them was drinking anything stronger than iced tea.

  “Having fun?” Faron asked, when he caught up to her halfway through the afternoon. She was dressed in cutoffs, a T-shirt and tennis shoes. Her hair was in a ponytail. She looked about fifteen, and he felt like a teenager with the biggest crush of his life.

  She grinned and threw a Frisbee at him. “I’m having a ball!”

  Faron caught it and pitched it back to her. They played for a while until Faron threw the Frisbee as far as he could beyond the crowd. When Belinda ran after it, he ran after her. When he caught her, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

  “Where are we going?” Belinda asked with a breathless laugh.

  Faron didn’t answer, just kept on walking.

  “Faron? Put me down, Faron.” Belinda started wriggling on Faron’s shoulder, but he grabbed her legs and pinned her against him.

  As soon as Faron entered the barn, Belinda knew where she was. It was dark and cool inside. It smelled of horses and hay and the pungent odor of manure. A horse nickered from one of the stalls. Faron carried her to an empty stall and shifted her off his shoulder until she was standing in front of him.

  “Here we are,” he said.

  Belinda just stared at him. Her heart was pounding with excitement. All she did was take one step toward him and Faron gathered her close in his arms. He lifted her legs and wrapped them around him. She clutched at his shoulders and buried her face at his throat.

  “You feel so good, Princess.”

  Faron backed her up against the stall and found her breasts through the T-shirt with his mouth.

  “Faron? Are you in here?”

  “Damn, damn, damn,” Faron muttered. “What do you want, Garth?”

  “Candy will be here in a minute to check on that foaling mare.”

  He had forgotten about the mare. “All right. Thanks.”

  Belinda was too caught up in the passion of the moment to realize they had been interrupted. Faron unwound her legs from around him and tried to stand her up, but her knees wouldn’t support her. He picked her up in his arms and headed out of the barn. Garth had conveniently, considerately disappeared.

  Belinda hid her face against Faron’s shoulder. “Looks like our timing was a little off,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t I know it,” Faron muttered.

  “Hey, you two!” Tate called. “We’re going to play a game of softball. You want in?”

  Faron looked down and met Belinda’s rueful look. “Sure. We’ll join you.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon in a game of softball, then tossed the Frisbee again until it started to get dark. Madelyn kept an eye on the babies and generally supervised activities.

  As they were clearing away the picnic table, Belinda watched the various couples begin to pair off. Again, her eyes sought out Faron. He was walking toward her. She felt her belly tighten as he stalked her. She stood and waited for him to come to her. He didn’t stop when he passed by her, merely paused long enough to whisper in her ear.

  Belinda shivered when he said, “Tonight.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FARON WAS IN THE KITCHEN, WAITING for the house to get quiet, waiting for the right moment to go to Belinda. He hadn’t asked if he could come to her, he had told her he was coming. He wished he could know for sure that when he knocked on her door this time, his Princess would let him in.

  “What are you doing down here so late?”

  Faron turned and found himself confronted by Charlie One Horse. The half-Indian codger was more than a hired hand. He had been part father, part mother and longtime friend to the Whitelaws. He had been a source of wisdom and knowledge all of Faron’s life.

  “Female problems,” Charlie muttered.

  Faron’s lips curled in the semblance of a smile. “How did you know?”

  “Only reason a man wanders the house at night instead of going to bed where he belongs.” Charlie concentrated on retying the beaded rawhide thong on one of his black braids so Faron wouldn’t see the concern in his eyes.

  “As long as you’re here, I could use some advice,” Faron said.

  “I’m listenin
’.” Charlie crossed to the refrigerator, opened the door and stood there looking inside.

  “I’m in love with Belinda Prescott.”

  “So? What’s the problem?”

  “Her first marriage—her marriage to my father—was a disaster. I don’t know if she’s ever going to let another man get close to her.”

  Charlie took out a container of strawberries and set it on the counter. He got a fork from the drawer, then stood at the counter eating the ripe red berries. “Time is the best salve to heal wounds of the heart.”

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” Faron said in a tormented voice.

  Charlie One Horse forked a huge strawberry and held it up so he could examine it. It was a “double,” a strawberry that should have been two and had ended up one. “You’ll just have to be patient. Show her that you love her. Once she realizes what love is supposed to be, she’ll come to you like a filly to a hand outstretched with sugar.” He stuffed the strawberry into his mouth and began munching.

  Faron couldn’t deny Charlie had given him good advice. But it seemed too little, too late. He could feel time running out. Tomorrow they would be headed back to King’s Castle. Next time a corporate buyer showed up, he might not be so lucky. Next time the man might make an offer he couldn’t—and Belinda wouldn’t—refuse.

  Faron crossed the room and laid a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Thanks, Charlie. Good night.”

  Charlie just grunted because his mouth was too full of strawberries for him to speak.

  Faron headed for the stairs, then detoured to the parlor. He wasn’t quite ready yet to face Belinda’s possible rejection. He slumped down into his regular chair in front of the fireplace, thinking he was alone, only to discover that Garth was there before him.

  “What are you doing sitting in the dark?” Faron asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Garth responded.

  Neither man gave a reason why he was there. Neither needed to. As Charlie had noted, only a woman kept a man from his bed when he ought to be sleeping. They sat there staring into a fire that was no more than glowing embers. Occasionally Garth drank from a glass of whiskey he held in one hand.