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She bathed in the heady delight of his touch, his scent, the nudge of his thighs against her legs. Her body hummed and sizzled, sparked by nothing more than simple contact, and he knew it instantly because he kissed her again, more slowly, more thoroughly this time.
She nestled against him, and when his hands pushed under her thin blouse, cupping her breasts, she almost stopped breathing. He was coaxing her body to life, his eyes speaking volumes of need and want and desire, and Cassie couldn’t help but answer.
Slowly, savoring every murmur and sigh, she let her head fall back. She clutched his dark hair in both hands, bringing his head down. Ethan’s mouth came against the pulse point at her throat, stroking with his tongue, teasing, raking his teeth lightly against her skin until she felt consumed by fire.
She let her fingers trail along his strong back, thinking of all the ways she’d daringly slide her hand down his body the next time they made love. They’d been intimate twice before, but she had been embarrassingly unskilled and nervous. Tomorrow, she would find the courage to be the aggressor.
She adored the weight and shape of him, the coiled strength of his biceps and the taut muscles of his stomach. His fingers were callused, and their texture as they moved over her body made a quick, jittery thrill trip through her.
She wanted more. She wished desperately for it.
But when Ethan’s hand slipped to the top button of Cassie’s jeans, her hand stopped him. She straightened as best she could, and though her body protested the separation, her brain demanded they go no further.
“We can’t,” she whispered against his ear. “We have to leave.”
“You’re early.”
“I’m on time,” she said as she shifted her clothes back into order.
“I hate a clock watcher.”
“You should have thought of that before you proposed.” Ethan’s one failing—at least the only one she’d found so far—was that he was seldom punctual for anything unless it was a direct order from her father. “Still want to marry me?” she asked, smiling up at him and trailing a finger across his bottom lip.
He growled low and brushed his stubbled chin gently against her cheeks, as though branding her. “Yes, I want to marry you. I want to make love to you. I want to make babies with you and watch them grow up to make babies of their own.” He caught her face in his hands so that their eyes met. “Good enough for you, princess?”
“Yes.” She exhaled with a happy sigh. She loved this about him—the secret, tender sincerity beneath the rough, sexy exterior that everyone else saw. She liked to think that she was the only one who knew the real Ethan Rafferty, though the truth was, she’d fallen so quickly, so hopelessly in love that she knew little more about him than the most basic facts.
He talked so seldom about his past. She knew only that he’d walked away from an abusive home when he was eighteen and that his father had been a horse trainer in Kentucky, a great one, but that talent had drowned in buckets of booze.
For three years Ethan had drifted, but the talent with horses that he’d inherited from his father had made him believe he had a future. Someday.
Just who was this man she intended to marry? Was she really willing to walk out of the pampered life she had known, cut herself loose from her youth and the adoring shelter of her father’s love to set her future on this unknown path?
Yes, she thought. It didn’t matter. She knew enough. She knew the essentials of Ethan Rafferty, the shape of his courage, the depth of his heart, that quiet confidence that could make her believe that anything was possible. And it pleased her to think that she’d have an eternity to find out everything else about him.
He had latched on to one of her long, red curls, rubbing it between his fingers as though testing it somehow. He loved playing with her hair. She pulled the lock through his fingers. “Stop that. I want it to look halfway decent tonight.”
His fingers cupped her face. “Decent is much too ordinary a word to describe what I see when I look at you.”
She lowered her head, embarrassed by the way his eyes caressed her.
A slow smile twisted his lips. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
She had no illusions about her looks. She might be blessed with her father’s dark red hair, but she could never do anything with it thanks to the humidity of East Texas. She had inherited her mother’s ready smile, but her lips lacked that full, pouty look that seemed to make men drool. For a while Cassie had actually prayed to have a perky cheerleader’s nose, but with her Scottish heritage there was little chance of that.
As for the spunky personality she’d longed for to offset her mundane features, it had never developed. The truth was, most of the time she was shy, contemplative and given to playing it safe. Only Ethan seemed to bring out her wilder side, her adventurous spirit. She knew her weaknesses. That he seemed to find her remarkable in any way both delighted and surprised her.
Feeling awkward, she gave him one last kiss and stepped back, suddenly all business. “Enough flattery. You’ve already won me over. Dad’s at Josh’s place, but I don’t know how much longer he’ll be there. We need to get on the road.”
“We should just wait for him,” Ethan said. “Tell him we’re getting married, and we hope we’ll have his blessing, but—”
“Are you insane?” Cassie exclaimed. “We can’t do that.”
He tilted his head as though examining her closely. “Why?”
“Because he’d never give his blessing.”
“Because you’re too young to get married? Or because you want to marry me?”
“Trust me. I know Dad.” She stroked her hand along his arm, hoping to ease the slight trace of hurt she thought she saw in his eyes. “Please, Ethan. Let’s just go.”
He grimaced, then nodded. “I’m almost ready. I’m just leaving a note for Hank to check Cisco in the morning. I think he’s coming down with thrush again, and I want to suggest a new treatment.” When she gave him a look, he waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll only be a minute. Go check out your dad’s new toy. He’s a beauty, and he’ll probably be glad to see a friendly face. Last stall on the left.”
Her body still humming with the residue of passion, Cassie took the suggestion and wandered down the barn’s dimly lit corridor. No point hanging over Ethan like a puppy. Besides, she was curious about Bandera.
The end stall was slightly larger than the rest, but the chestnut stallion within made it seem small. Bandera was tall for a quarter horse, at least sixteen hands, with deep, muscular shoulders and the powerful hindquarters so common to the breed. In the diminished light he looked almost bloodred.
He was magnificent, and Cassie regretted that she wouldn’t be here to see her father’s first real contact with the animal. They were definitely going to make a striking pair.
The hayrack overhead was nearly empty. Bandera nibbled halfheartedly at the remaining flake of Bermuda grass, but pawed the floorboards as though annoyed there wasn’t more.
“You’ve got quite an appetite, don’t you, fella?” she said, holding out her hand.
Bandera’s ears pricked forward, and he turned in Cassie’s direction to rub his face against her palm. She wished she had some treat to give him.
To make up for the fact that she didn’t, she spent a minute or two stroking his head and raking her fingernails gently under his chin. He was calm and well-mannered, very sweet really, for a stallion. The big horse blew out a contented snort. Evidently the second tranquilizer Ethan had given Bandera had the animal under tight control.
“You’re just a big baby,” she whispered to him. “Don’t worry. You’re going to like it here.”
The stallion turned away to pull the last of the hay out of the rack. Cassie glanced down the aisleway. Still no Ethan.
Spotting a pitchfork nearby, she retrieved it and speared a fresh flake of Bermuda grass. Might as well make herself useful while she waited.
She swung the hay up and over the stall wall, hoping it would drop squarely into the rack. It didn’t. Instead, it landed on the stall’s floor and broke apart.
Damn. As a kid, her baling arm had been pretty good, but she supposed it had been too long since she’d had to use it. Bandera would trample the sweet-smelling strands to dirty straw in no time, and the stallion shouldn’t eat compromised hay.
Wishing Ethan would hurry, Cassie pulled the latch on the half door and entered the stall. Bandera’s ears pricked forward in attention, and he eyed her curiously. She nudged the animal aside with her shoulder so she could reach the hay to repitch it.
This time her aim was better. It went right into the rack, and immediately the horse stretched his neck to pull down a mouthful.
“How’s that?” Cassie asked as she stroked his powerful neck and crooned soft words. She had her father’s love for horses. Standing this close, Bandera was even more beautiful. A coat like warm silk. Proud head and sleek lines. She’d bet he’d have the gait of a rocking horse.
“Cassie, get out of there!”
A male voice behind her made Cassie and Bandera both jump. Ethan was at the stall’s entrance, already sliding back the latch. He looked surprised and angry, as though she had no right to be inside.
She made a face at him as she entwined her fingers around the stallion’s halter. “Ease up, cowboy. We’re just getting acquainted.”
“Come out. Now.”
Bandera jerked his head, clearly disliking the sound of harsh voices. Cassie wasn’t all that thrilled herself. Ethan’s attitude annoyed her; the stallion was as much her horse as her father’s, and Ethan had no right to order her around.
She tossed her hair over one shoulder, intent on telling him what he could do with his demands. He wasn’t her husband yet, she would teasingly inform him. “I’m just—”
With her hand still on Bandera’s halter, the horse nearly pulled her arm out of its socket as he jerked his head again. With flattened ears and rolling eyes, the stallion suddenly came to life.
Cassie’s hold was ripped loose as Bandera swung away. Ethan rushed forward to calm the animal, and just as quickly the horse lowered his head and struck out with one back leg, whacking Cassie on the left knee. The pain was immediate, intense. Somehow she kept from going down completely, knowing that to do so would mean the end of her if Bandera couldn’t be quieted.
Everything seemed to happen so fast. She heard the stallion’s harsh whinny and the click of teeth as he tried to bite Ethan. She stumbled toward the stall door, but the horse was everywhere—a kicking, rearing red demon that couldn’t be avoided.
She saw Ethan’s hand—strangely bloody—flashing out to yank her to safety, but Bandera backed into her and dragged their stretching fingers apart. As the horse reared, his hooves slipped out from under him on the bare boards. Cassie looked up to see Bandera’s back coming toward her as the animal screamed in fear. She tried to move, but there was nowhere to go, and she found herself being carried down, down. Suddenly she lay crushed against the straw with the panicked horse thrashing on top of her.
Ethan was shouting, calling her name, but she couldn’t speak. The air had left her lungs. She didn’t know what happened after that. Maybe she blacked out. When she opened her eyes again, she was still on the floor, but Bandera was gone.
She blinked up to find Ethan hovering over her.
“Be still.” His voice sounded shaky and more uncertain than she’d ever heard it. He brushed her long hair out of her eyes. “I’m going for help.”
Too shocked to do more than nod, Cassie was barely aware of his quick kiss. Then he was gone.
As though from far away, she heard one desperate whinny. She tried to concentrate on taking deep breaths, but every pull of air felt like shards of glass in her lungs. The pain was suddenly unbearable, as if someone had set fire to her chest, hip and left leg. Was she going to die right here? Right now?
How could she? Today was her wedding day.
She stared at the bare boards of the barn’s roof, waiting for Ethan to return. Her mind drifted as she lay still. Perfectly, utterly still. Somewhere in that awful silence the truth came to her, spinning away in a mist of pain and fear.
Mrs. Ethan Rafferty. Cassandra Rafferty.
Such a lovely, lovely dream…
But not tonight.
CHAPTER TWO
ETHAN SAT SLUMPED in an emergency room chair, watching blood pool slowly into the cupped palm of his left hand.
Under the ripped mess that had once been his favorite jacket, his biceps burned. He was pretty sure that if he could find the strength to peel off the bloodstained material, he would see a sizable bite mark where Bandera’s teeth had caught him. As it was, he knew his arm was broken.
God, what was Cassie doing, going into that stall? And why didn’t I think to tell her that Bandera wasn’t sedated?
His hand fisted around the blood. His muscles turned to fire with that movement, but Ethan almost welcomed the pain. He didn’t care if his damned arm fell off. The only thing that mattered right now was Cassie, who’d disappeared into the chaos and mystery of one of the hospital’s trauma rooms. She’d been so pale, barely conscious, as though her life was slipping away like a frightened ghost.
Ethan ducked his head, praying for the first time in years. His mother had dragged him to church when he was a kid, but after her death, his father, who had no use for God or anyone else, had never made him go back.
Please, God. Not Cassie. Anything you want from me. Just not Cassie.
The doors from the ambulance bay slid open with a whoosh, and Ethan looked up to see Mac McGuire and Josh Wheeler hurrying toward him. McGuire’s lips were tight with anger, his eyes wild and searching.
It occurred to Ethan that very soon Cassie’s father would hate him. And tonight, he thought, the man had good reason to.
Ethan rose, waiting. The room started to spin, but he gritted his teeth and refused to give in to it.
“What happened?” McGuire demanded.
“Cassie went into Bandera’s stall. The animal spooked. He reared and went over on top of her.”
“Dear God,” Josh muttered.
McGuire frowned. “How is that possible? The horse was tranked. He should have been asleep on his feet.”
“He wasn’t because I…” Ethan lifted his chin. He knew a confession would be the end of the joy he’d found at the Flying M, but he had no choice. “I—I don’t like tranquilizing horses, and I didn’t think he needed the second one.”
“You didn’t think!” McGuire bellowed. A couple of people in the waiting room glanced at him nervously. “Since when do you know more about horses than I do? And you let Cassandra go into that stall, when I expressly told you that no one was to go near Bandera tonight?”
“Mr. McGuire,” Ethan began, “I’m sorry—”
“You don’t know how sorry you’ll be if anything happens to my baby.”
At eighteen, Cassie was hardly a baby. She’d been sheltered by this man all her life, but now wasn’t the time to argue about how overprotective he was.
“You’re fired,” her father continued. “Get your stuff and get off my ranch tonight, before I kill you with my bare hands.”
The older man actually took a step forward. Frankly, Ethan wouldn’t have cared if he got the beating of his life. He figured it was no more than he deserved.
As though trying to deflect McGuire, Josh Wheeler slid between them. “What does the doctor say? Maybe we should try to get some answers.”
McGuire nodded vaguely, obviously trying to bring himself back from the brink of violence. He turned away, and almost on some sort of stage cue, one of the emergency room doctors appeared through the double doors. He looked so grim that the bottom dropped out of Ethan’s stomach.
“Cassandra McGuire’s family?” the physician called to the roomful of minor burns, broken bones and shell-shocked bystanders.
Mac McGuire crossed the distance between them, and Wheeler followed. Despite the fact that the older man would not want him there, Ethan moved forward as well.
McGuire introduced himself, and the doctor wasted no time getting to the point. “She’s stabilizing, and we’re taking her to surgery in a few minutes. She’s bleeding internally and she has some broken ribs, a collapsed lung and possibly a ruptured spleen. It’s serious, but I believe we can get her through it. However…”
McGuire’s face was no more than a crumpled mass of wrinkles. He looked stunned, and something in the doctor’s face sent another chill down Ethan’s spine.
“What else?” he asked.
The doctor gave Cassie’s father a grave look. “Her left leg took quite a beating. It’s fractured in three places, and the foot’s badly mangled. We have an excellent orthopedic surgeon here, but I think you should be prepared for the worst.”
“What’s the worst?”
“Amputation of the limb.”
The blood sang in Ethan’s head, and all that was left of his heart, wrapped inside a miserable bundle of flesh, nearly stuttered to a halt. He was dimly aware of Cassie’s father talking to the doctor, but he had to blink a couple of times before he could focus. His beautiful Cassie. Less than two hours ago he’d held her against his body, and she had seemed so lush, so full of vibrant life. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t…
Oh, God, don’t… Don’t…
