Page 40 of Too Hot To Handle

Reever’s tone was gentle, coaxing, restrained… and somehow as distant as the moon.

„There’s no need,“ Tory said, her voice thin. „It’s just a scratch.“

He didn’t bother to argue. He simply took her hand from the stream of water and watched crimson blood well instantly from the cut. He also watched her helpless response to his touch, the shiver she couldn’t control, and he heard the soft sound of her breath breaking. His eyes closed.

„Tory,“ Reever said achingly. „I didn’t want it to be like this.“

„Like what?“ she asked faintly.

„You loving me.“

„And you not loving me.“ Tory’s eyes darkened as she looked out the kitchen window at the supple pines and the lake shimmering beneath the sun. „I believe you,“ she whispered. „I’ll buy that bus ticket out of here, the one you’ve been telling me to get since the first time you saw me. You’re free, Reever. Go find the perfect woman of your dreams. I’ll go find the perfect platform, the perfect pool, the perfect dive, and then I’ll step off into the air and float forever….“ As the last word died away, she shivered violently. „But thank you,“ she added, her voice thinned almost to breaking. „You made it so very good for me.

When you held me, it was more beautiful than anything I’d ever dreamed.“

Tory pulled her trembling hand from Reever’s grasp, ignoring the line of scarlet sliding down her finger. The cut was only superficial. The rest of her wounding was not.

„I should have driven you into town that first day,“ Reever said, his voice suddenly as harsh as though he had never held her, never felt her come apart in his arms. His eyes were dark, nearly wild, savage. „I didn’t want your virginity. I didn’t want the guilt of taking a young girl without words of love. But you burned like a fire in me all the way to my soul. So I seduced a city girl who was only marking time until she could go back to the bright lights. That’s what you were doing at the Sundance, isn’t it, city girl? Marking time until your knee healed, until you could make that perfect dive. God, I wish I’d never touched you!“

The little color that had been left in Tory’s world faded away. „My fault, Reever,“ she said, her voice so frail that it was almost like silence. „I can’t say you didn’t warn me. I know that I’m a long way from the woman of your dreams. You told me often enough. I just didn’t listen very well, did I?“

In the sudden, taut silence the sound of cowboy boots stamping off mud on the flagstone walkway beyond the kitchen was as loud as an exchange of gunshots. Jed’s voice rose over the noise, as did Miller’s. Both of them were speculating on whether any of Tory’s cookies were available for starving cowhands.

„Tell them the cookies are in the blue jar,“ Tory said, her voice breaking as she slipped past Reever.

When Tory finally came back to the kitchen, the room was empty of cookies, cowhands and Reever. The remaining meat was cubed and neatly stacked to one side of the cutting board. She didn’t have to be told that Reever had taken care of it for her. With trembling hands she dredged the big cubes in the seasoned flour, browned them and set them aside to simmer slowly while she made four cherry pies.

Tory tried not to think, not to feel, but it was impossible. By the time dinner was ready, it was all she could do to force herself to sit at the table with Reever only inches away.

God, I wish I’d never touched you!

But he had. Nothing could change that. All that remained was for Tory to find a way to survive loving a man who didn’t love her in return, not even a little.

„Tory, are you on some kind of damn fool diet?“ asked Dutch.

„What?“ she asked, startled out of her thoughts.

„You’re not eating enough to keep a kitten alive.” Dutch said gruffly. „You haven’t for five days. I just wondered if you was on some damn fool diet. None of my business, of course, but you sure don’t need to get any skinnier.“

Tory looked down at the stew she had been pushing from one side of her plate to the other, and at the biscuit she had shredded without eating. It had been the same for every meal since Reever had taken her to the small meadow and made love to her until the truth poured out of her in husky, heedless cries.

„I – I ate too many cookies earlier,“ lied Tory. „Ruined my appetite.“

Dutch gave her a skeptical look but said nothing more.

„I checked on your garden today,“ Jed said, reaching for another biscuit „The drip that Reever set up in the furrows is keeping everything green, but I think the beans need some more of that fancy fertilizer. Want me to pick up a bag when I go into town for supplies tomorrow?“

„That would be very – “ Tory cleared her throat. „Could I go in with you?“ she asked urgently. „I have to – do something.“

For an instant Jed looked surprised, then he grinned. „Sure thing, Tory. Too bad I’m not twenty-one yet I’d buy you your first legal drink.“

Tory sensed Reever’s sudden, intent scrutiny. „What?“ she asked.

„Don’t you turn twenty-one tomorrow?“ continued Jed, oblivious to Reever’s narrowed, icy eyes. „Or is that next month?“

„Is tomorrow the thirtieth?“ Tory asked.

„As ever was,“ Jed said, heaping butter on the biscuit.