The Wedding In White Page 13

  Her worried blue eyes met Natalie's green ones. "Can you forgive me, do you think?"

  Natalie let out the anger in a slow breath. "Of course," she said. "We've been friends far too long for me to hold a grudge."

  Vivian bent and kissed her cheek. "I haven't been much of a friend up until this point," she said. "But I'm going to do a better job from now on. And the first matter of business is to get you a sponge bath and some breakfast."

  "Mack believed you," Natalie said.

  Vivian paused on her way to the door. She came back and put a gentle hand over Natalie's where it lay on her stomach over the covers. "The night I told Mack that lie, he went into the office and locked the door and drank half a bottle of Scotch whiskey. I had to get the foreman and a locksmith to open it for me. When I finally got in, he'd passed out."

  Her eyes were troubled. "He never loses control like that. That was when I knew how much I'd hurt him. And after your graduation, when Bob and Charles lit into us about not being there, he went off by himself and wouldn't even talk to us for days. I know what we did hurt you, Natalie," she concluded. "But it hurt us just as badly. I'm sorry. Mack was right about Whit all along. He's going around with another rich girl, but one who likes to gamble herself, and he's got all the money he wants for the time being. I was an idiot."

  "You were in love," Natalie excused her. "It doesn't exactly make people lucid."

  "Doesn't it?" Vivian asked pointedly, and with a curious smile.

  "Don't ask me," the other woman replied, averting her face. "I was only seventeen when I had my first and last taste of it."

  "I know," Vivian said disconcertingly. She smiled gently. "It was always Mack. And I knew it, and used it to hurt you. I regret that more than anything."

  "That wasn't what I meant," Natalie ground out.

  Vivian didn't press the issue. She patted her hand gently. "Everything's going to be all right. Believe that, if you don't believe another word I say."

  Natalie shifted to a more comfortable position. "Did all of you come down here together?" she asked.

  "Yes. Your surgeon phoned and told us you were fighting for your life and that somebody had to give permission for him to operate." She grimaced. "Mack had to fax a permission slip to him as next of kin, so if anyone asks, we're your cousins." She held up a hand when Natalie started to speak. "If he hadn't, you might have died, Nat."

  "I had that accident card in my purse, the one you made me fill out with Mack's name and phone number on it," Natalie recalled. "I guess they found it when I was brought in."

  Vivian hesitated. "Do you remember what happened?"

  "Yes. I saw two boys fighting on a basketball court. Like an idiot, I went in to stop it." She smiled wryly. "One of them had a knife, and I was just in time to catch it in my chest. Fortunately it only cost me a little bit of one lung instead of my life."

  "Next time, call the police," Vivian said firmly. "That's their job, and they do it very well."

  "Next time, if there ever is one, I will." Natalie caught Vivian's hand as she moved it. "Thank you for coming all the way here. I never dreamed that any of you would—especially Mack."

  "When the boys heard, the first thing they said was that you belonged to us," Vivian told her. "And you do. Whether you like it or not."

  "I like it very much." Her lower lip became briefly unsteady. "I'm glad we're still friends," she managed shakily.

  "Oh, Nat!" Vivian leaned down to hug her as gently as she could. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I'll never, never be so selfish and horrible again, ever!"

  Natalie hugged her with her good arm and sighed as the tears poured out of her, therapeutic and comforting, hot on her pale face.

  Vivian drew back and found tissues for both of them to wipe their wet eyes with, and they laughed while they did it.

  "Mack still has his apologies to make," Vivian added. "I think he'll welcome the opportunity. But it's going to be hard for him, so meet him halfway, would you?"

  Natalie looked worried. "He looks bad."

  "He should. He's been driving himself for weeks. I won't even try to tell you how hard he's been to live with."

  "That isn't anything unusual," Natalie said with her first glint of humor.

  "This has been much worse than usual. If you don't believe it, try looking into the hall when he comes back. You'll see medical people running for the exits in droves." She chuckled. "We just stood and gaped at him when he walked into the recovery room and started throwing orders around. The army sure lost a great leader when he was mustered out after his tour of duty. He made captain, at that."

  "Did...Glenna come, too?" she had to ask.

  "He hasn't seen Glenna since you left town," Vivian said quietly. "He doesn't talk about her, either."

  Natalie didn't comment. She was sure that Mack was trying to heal a guilt complex, although he had no reason to feel guilty. He'd made a wrong assumption and accused her of something she hadn't done, but he hadn't caused her to be stabbed. That had been her own lack of foresight in stepping into a situation she wasn't trained to handle. It could have happened anywhere.

  For the moment, she nodded and lay back. Vivian left her to find the nurses.

  Mack came back with the boys just after lunch. He looked rested. They all did. She supposed they'd taken the opportunity to catch a little sleep in a real bed.

  The boys only stayed for a few minutes, having discovered a mall near the hospital where they could look over the video games. Vivian went to the hospital cafeteria to get herself a salad for lunch. Mack sat in the chair beside the bed and looked at Natalie, who was much more animated than she had been the night before.

  He reached out and caught her fingers in his, sending a wicked tingle of sensation through her, and he smiled at her gently. "You look better. How do you feel?"

  "Like I've been buffaloed," she said. She was shy with him, as she'd never been. Amazing, considering their history. They knew each other so well, almost intimately, but she couldn't find anything to say to him.

  He seemed to realize that. His fingers curled closer into hers and he leaned forward. "The surgeon says you can leave Friday," he told her. "I can take you back on the Learjet if you're not showing any bronchial symptoms."

  "The Learjet?"

  "I chartered one to bring us down here. The pilot and copilot are staying at my hotel until we're ready to leave."

  "That must be costing a fortune," she blurted.

  He smiled cynically. "What do you think I'm worth? In addition to a very successful cattle ranch and interests in several businesses, I own shares in half a dozen stocks that skyrocketed since I bought my first shares."

  She averted her eyes. "I've got an apartment here," she began.

  "You had an apartment here."

  She stared at him, confused. "What?"

  "I told your landlady you weren't coming back," he said flatly. "I had your stuff packed up, carefully, and shipped to Medicine Ridge. I even had your mail collected and filled out a form for it to be forwarded on to you back home."

  "You can't!" she exclaimed. "Mack, I have a job here!"

  "Oh, yes, I spoke to the principal about that," he continued, maddeningly calm. "They're sorry to lose you, but considering the length of your recovery, they have to have someone come in to replace you. You can reapply if you want to come back. But you won't want to."

  "Of course I'll want to come back!" she exclaimed, stunned at the changes he'd created, the havoc he'd created in her nice new life. "You can't do this!"

  "I've already done it, Nat," he replied, standing to loom over her, still holding her hand. "And when you have time to think about it, you'll realize that it was the only thing I could do," he added somberly. "Leaving you here alone was never an option, not even if I'd hated you."

  She dropped her eyes to his big, lean hand holding hers. It was tanned, like his face, from the long hours he spent working on the ranch. "I thought you did hate me, when I left."

  He laughed with
pure self-contempt. "I know you did. Viv was right, I could sure teach you how to jump to conclusions." His eye narrowed. He put a hand on the pillow beside her head and leaned close. "But there are a lot of other things I'd rather teach you."

  "What things?" she asked breathlessly.

  "What I promised I would, when you were seventeen." His mouth brushed her lips as gently as a breath, lingering, tasting, arousing. "Don't you remember, Natalie? I said that, when the time came, I was going to teach you how to make love."

  Chapter 10

  Natalie couldn't believe she'd actually heard him say that, and in a tone so tender that she hardly recognized it. It was difficult to think, anyway, with his hard mouth making little tingles of excitement everywhere it touched her face.

  "Do you think I'm joking?" he asked when she didn't answer him. He bent, his breath whispering against her parted lips. "All the teasing stopped when Dr. Hayes called me and said you were at the point of death," he added tautly. His head lifted, and he looked into her eyes. "From now on, it's totally serious."

  She didn't understand. Her expression told him so.

  He brushed his mouth softly over her lips, careful not to take advantage of the situation or cause her even more pain. "I should never have let you leave Medicine Ridge in the first place," he said gruffly.

  "You told me I wasn't welcome at the ranch ever again," she admonished, her lower lip trembling.

  He actually groaned. He kissed her with something that felt like utter desperation and visibly had to force himself to stop. His hand was faintly unsteady as it pushed back her disheveled hair and traced her oval face. "I thought you went from me to him," he confessed huskily. "I couldn't bear the thought."

  Her expression lightened. Her heart seemed to lift. For the first time, she reached to touch his hard mouth. "As if I could," she said with wistful sadness.

  He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it hungrily. "Weeks of misery," he said heavily, "all because Vivian and I jumped to conclusions."

  "It's hard to trust people. I ought to know." She searched his one beautiful eye slowly. She was uncertain with him, hesitant. The medicine was still affecting her, and she was wary of his sudden affection. She didn't trust it. Worse, she was remembering her past. There had never been a person she loved that she didn't lose. First her parents and then Carl; even if Carl hadn't been in love with her, he'd been her first real taste of it.

  "Such a somber expression," he said gently. "What are you thinking?"

  "That I've lost everybody I ever loved," she whispered involuntarily, shivering.

  His head lifted and he looked straight into her wide, worried eyes. "You won't lose me," he said quietly.

  Her heart ran wild. Now she was certain that she was hearing things. She opened her mouth to ask him to say it again, but just as she did, the nurse came in to check her vitals. Mack only smiled at her frustration and went in the hall to stretch his legs.

  When he came back, it was as if he hadn't said anything outrageous at all. He started outlining travel plans, and by the time he finished, Vivian and the boys were back and conversation remained general.

  Natalie's lungs were clear by Friday morning, and the surgeon, Dr. Hayes, released her for travel home in the Learjet. Mack lifted her out of the wheelchair at the hospital entrance and into the hired car, which they took to the airport. Less than an hour later, they were airborne, and by late afternoon, they were landing in Medicine Ridge.

  The foreman had driven the Lincoln to the airport and had another ranch hand follow him in one of the ranch trucks. That made enough room for the Learjet's weary passengers to ride in the car to the ranch house. There, Mack picked Natalie up in his arms and, holding her just a little too close, he mounted the front steps and carried her over the threshold.

  He glanced at her with a faintly possessive smile as he stopped just briefly in the vestibule to search her soft eyes.

  "You don't have to carry me," she whispered, aware that the boys had headed straight for the kitchen and Vivian had gone ahead of them upstairs to open the guest room door for them.

  "Why not?" he mused, bending to brush her mouth lazily with his. "It's good practice."

  Practice for what, she wondered wearily, but she didn't question the odd remark. She moved her arm and grimaced as her whole side protested. The wound was still painful.

  "Sorry," he said gently. "I keep forgetting the condition you're in. We'll go right on up."

  He carried her easily up the long, graceful staircase to the guest room that adjoined his bedroom. She gave him a worried look.

  "I'm not having you at the other end of the house in this condition," he told her as he passed Vivian and went into the airy room with its canopied double bed, where he gently put her down. "I'm going to leave the connecting door open, as well. If you need me in the night, all you have to do is call me. I'm a light sleeper." He glanced at his sister with a speaking glance. "Something I can't say for anybody else in this family."

  Vivian grimaced. "I do eventually wake up," she said defensively.

  "I've got your pain medication in my pocket," he added. "If you need it at bedtime, I'll make sure you get it. Vivian can help you into a gown."

  "Something nice and modest," Vivian murmured, tongue in cheek, with a wicked glance at her brother.

  "Good idea," he said imperturbably. He paused at the door and that good eye twinkled. "And I'll wear pajamas for a change."

  Vivian chuckled at Natalie's flushed cheeks as Mack left them alone. "You're in no condition for any hanky-panky," she reminded her friend. "So stop worrying and just concentrate on getting well. You'll never convince me that you won't feel safer with Mack a few yards away in the night."

  "I will," Natalie had to admit. "But I still feel like I'm imposing."

  "Family doesn't impose," her friend shot right back. "Now let's get you into something light and comfortable, and then I'll go and see what's on the menu for supper. I don't know about you, but I'm starved!"

  It came as a surprise when Mack brought a tray to her room and sat down to have his supper with her. But other surprises followed. Instead of going to work in the study, as was his habit, he read her a selection of first-person accounts of life in Montana before the turn of the century. History was her favorite subject, and she loved it. She closed her eyes and listened to his deep voice until she fell asleep.

  She'd been heavily sedated in the hospital and she hadn't had nightmares. But her first night in a comfortable bed, she relived the stabbing. She was lifted close to a warm, comforting chest and held very gently while soothing endearments were whispered into her ear. At first it felt like a dream. But the heat and muscle of the chest felt very real, like the thick hair that covered it. Her hand moved experimentally in the darkness.

  "Mack?" she whispered hesitantly.

  "I hope you don't expect to wake up and find any other man in your bed from now on," he murmured sleepily. His big hand smoothed her hair gently. "You had a nightmare, sweetheart. Just a nightmare. Try to go back to sleep."

  She blinked and lifted her face just enough to look around. It was her bedroom, but Mack was under the covers with her and had apparently been there for some time.

  He pulled her down and held her as close as he dared. "Did you really think I meant to leave you alone in here after what you've been through?" he asked somberly.

  "But what will the family think?" she asked worriedly.

  "That I love you, probably."

  She was so drowsy that she couldn't make sense of the words. "Oh."

  "Which is why we're getting married, as soon as you're back on your feet."

  She wondered if painkillers could make people hallucinate. "Now I know I'm still asleep," she murmured to herself.

  "No such luck. Try to sleep before I do something stupid. And for the record, my sister's idea of a modest nightgown is sick. Really sick. I can feel your skin through that damned thing!"

  He probably could. She could certainly feel
his chest against her breasts much better than she was comfortable doing. But she still wasn't quite awake. Her fingers curved into the thicket of hair that covered his breastbone. "What sort of stupid thing were you thinking of trying?" she asked conversationally.

  "This." His hand found the tiny buttons that held the bodice together and efficiently slipped them so that she was lying skin to skin against his chest.

  She felt her nipples go hard at once, and she gasped with the heated rush of sensation that made her heart race.

  "That's exactly how I feel," he murmured dryly, "a few inches lower."

  It took her a few seconds to realize what he was saying, and she was glad that the darkness hid her face. "You pig!" she exclaimed.

  He chuckled. "I can't resist it. You do rise to the bait like a trophy fish," he commented. "You'll get used to it. I've been blinder than I look, but a lot of things became clear when that surgeon phoned me. The main one was that you belong to me. I'm not a perfect physical specimen, and I've cornered the market on dependents, but you could do worse."

  "There's nothing wrong with you," she said quietly. "You have a slight disability."

  "We both know I could go blind eventually, Natalie," he said, speaking to her as he never had before. "But I think we could cope with that, if we had to."

  "Of course we could," she replied.

  His hand smoothed her hair. "The boys and Vivian love you, and you love them. We may have disagreements, but we'll be a family, just the same. A big family, if we all have children," he added, chuckling. "But children will be a bonus."

  Her hand flattened on his chest. "I'd like to have a child with you," she said daringly. She felt his heart jump when she said it. "Would you like a son or a daughter?" she added.

  "I'd like anything we get," he said quietly. "And so would you."

  That sounded permanent. She smiled and couldn't stop smiling. Children meant a commitment.

  "Yes. So would I," she said, closing her eyes with a long, heartfelt sigh of contentment.

  His hand tensed on her hair. "I wouldn't do too much of that," he cautioned.