Breaking The Rules Part 11

along her knee. "But the whole point is to keep you safe until we figure out what to do, and the way I was feeling this afternoon wasn't going to get that done. You understand?"

She glared at him through the darkness. "I'm not nearly as fragile as you think I am, Zeke."

He shook his head, and reached into his shirt pocket for a cigarette. "I never said you were fragile.

Matter of fact, I think you're d.a.m.ned brave." He bent over his lighter and a flare of orange cast deep

shadows over the angles of his face. "You're also a good girl and I'm willing to respect that."

He had so dazzled her at first, she'd been unable to respond to these comments in the past. "I'm not a girl," she said, standing. "And I almost out-hustled you at pool, so I can't be that sweet."

"I don't mean anything bad by it, Miss Mary," he said, and there was amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice. "You're honest and nice and trustworthy."

She c.o.c.ked her head. "Does that mean you're mean and crooked and untrustworthy?"

"Maybe."

"Then what the h.e.l.l am I doing here at all?"

He laughed. "Okay, sometimes I'm a good guy."

"And sometimes," she said with narrowed eyes, "I'm not such a nice girl."

"Don't tempt me," he said, going still. "Meon a good day and you on a bad one still adds up to a bear

and a mouse." The growl in those words, the danger in that promise finally brought her to her senses. "You're right," she said. "If we're through parrying, I'd like to get some sleep." * * *

He insisted she take the bed. He'd make a pallet on the floor. Mattie protested, vehemently. And Zeke steadfastly ignored her. It panicked her just a little. She didn't want to sleep in his bed, on his pillow, with the smell of him, the imprint of his body all around her, when he'd made it very, very plain there would be nothing between them. It would drive her crazy. But she lost the fight. He was simply, calmly, cheerfully immovable. She picked up the sleeping bag and threw it at him. "Fine, then," she said, taking pleasure in the solid thunk of the bag against his head.

He laughed. "Chill out, girl." "Woman," she muttered, turning back to the bed. Under where the sleeping bag had been was a thick blanket, printed with horses. She chuckled, touching a rearing stallion that had obviously provided the model for his tattoo. "Sure you don't want your horse blankie ?" she asked over her shoulder. He was tugging off his boots, but spared a grin in her direction. "It was a present." The way he said it, she knew it was a woman. Some other woman that had lost out in the struggle for Zeke Shephard's heart. There were probably dozens of them, Mattie thought with a scowl, shedding her own shoes. "Which came first, the tattoo or the blanket?" "Tattoo. I got it when I was fifteen. Got drunk with my friends and went into Jackson. One of the many times I ran away from home." He spread the couch cushions on the braided rug in front of the fireplace and shook the sleeping bag out over it. "Lasted two months, that time, though." Mattie sat on the bed, watching him. Firelight caught in the waves of his hair as he unb.u.t.toned his shirt. "You want to give me a minute of privacy here, Miss Mary? I'm not gonna make a habit of sleeping in my jeans."

Dutifully, she turned away, only now becoming aware of the intimacy of these surroundings when it came to things like dressing and undressing. She could wear her tank top and jeans to bed, she supposed, but getting in and out of them might prove a bit troublesome.

She heard a rustle, the clink of something in his pockets as his jeans. .h.i.t the floor. "All right," he said after another minute. "I'm decent."

Mattie turned back to find him safely ensconced in the sleeping bag before the fire, his chest bare, his arms comfortably tucked under his head. A bright shock of need rippled through her and the hunger was back, wild and hot.

Irritably, she dug through her tote and dragged out her tank top and shorts. For an instant, she considered slipping outside to change, but it was too cold. "Now if you'll afford me some privacy, Mr. Shephard ?"

It was his turn to shift. Hastily, Mattie shed her jeans, all too aware of the sound the zipper made as it slid down, and shimmied into her shorts. Turning her back to Zeke, she yanked off her T-shirt, shivering a little at the wash of cool air on her skin. For one long, agonizing minute, she wondered if she ought to keep her bra on, just for the sake of modesty, but it would be miserably uncomfortable. What woman didn't take off a bra with a sigh of relief at the end of a day?

It felt as if it took forever, felt as if it took her a hundred minutes to undo the clasp, another fifty to slip it from her shoulders and discard it, another four hundred years that she stood there naked to the waist with a half-naked Zeke behind her. She peeked over her shoulder.

He had shifted to the way he was before, his hands clasped behind his head, the green eyes glittering with something dangerous and dark. Lazily, he smiled. "Told you I'm no nice guy."

Mattie clasped her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and glared at him. "Turn over right now or I swear I'll-"

He lifted up on one elbow, his pagan hair falling around his smoothly rounded shoulders, his expression even darker. "Or you'll what?"

She spun around and grabbed her shirt, her spine rippling with the caress of his eyes. With a yank, she tugged the shirt over her head and turned around. "You're a real son of a b.i.t.c.h," she said.

"Miss Mary!" he said mockingly. "I had no idea you could talk like that."

Furiously, she picked up her clothes, bending to retrieve her jeans and stuff them into the tote. "If the shoe fits..."

"I told you," he said, the teasing dropping away. "I told you."

"So you did." She scrambled under the horse blanket and leaned over to blow out the candle. "Good night, Zeke."

His voice was a slow, dark drawl. "'Night, Miss Mary."

Zeke woke just before dawn to a chorus of bird song. He heard the birds before he opened his eyes and knew instantly where he was.

Home.

Slowly, he stretched in his coc.o.o.n of a sleeping bag, feeling the deep relaxed pull of his muscles after a good sauna and a good night's sleep.

As was his habit here, he opened his eyes and looked around slowly, thankful for each tiny thing illuminated by the gold bar of early-morning sun that broke through the windows. Grateful for the pine walls and floor, for the good propane stove in the corner, for the fireplace that had given him such fits as he built it, but that now worked like a dream. Yeah, whatever they took, this was home. He left it often, but always came back.

From his vantage point on the floor, all he could see was the top of Mattie's glossy head, pointing at him at an angle. A spray of hair fanned over the edge of the mattress. A restless sleeper.

Quietly, so as not to disturb her, he got up and slipped into his jeans, got a clean shirt from the shelf and slipped outside to greet the morning.

And what a morning! Across the valley, washed sparklingly clean by yesterday's rain, he saw the first rays of dawn strike the distant blue mountainsides, throwing into mystic shadow the valleys and hidden crevices. Closer in, the tops of aspens rustled as if in greeting and arrows of sunlight kissed the uppermost leaves with a blaze of color. He inhaled deeply, smelling damp earth and pine needles and the crisp under-note of the mountains themselves. Glorious.

A tiny cracking branch drew his attention, and from the trees ambled a doe and her fawn, the fawn dancing to catch up. Upwind from him, the doe didn't sense Zeke's presence, and calmly nibbled leaves from a shrub.

Mattie had to see this. Walking backward slowly, he turned the door handle without a sound and eased inside. She hadn't stirred. She sprawled over the bed, corner to corner, the posture of a sleeper who had nothing to fear. He was glad of that, at least.

He touched her shoulder. "Mattie," he said in a deep whisper. "There's something you should see."

She roused instantly and blinked up. "What?"

"Be very quiet and come with me."

She got up and he took her hand, putting a finger to his lips, showing her how to move silently. They slipped out the door. She looked bewildered at first, but he drew her close and pointed over her shoulder to the feeding doe.

Her nearness unsettled him, but he didn't push her away, only watched the wonder dawn in those big eyes, watched the joy break on her face. They stood there for a long time, utterly still, his hands on her shoulders, until the deer tired of the spot and wandered into the trees.

When the last shadows of the deer were out of sight, she sighed and leaned into him. Zeke stiffened momentarily, but the fit of her head beneath his shoulder was too perfect to resist. He left his hands on her fragile shoulders, too, let them just rest there without moving. They didn't talk. Mattie simply leaned on him and he just as simply braced her, moving his chin on her hair as they took in the grandeur of the mountain morning.

Finally, she sighed. "Thank you, Zeke. I don't think I've ever seen anything that moved me as much in my life."

He squeezed her shoulders, knowing this was the moment he ought to let go, step away. He didn't. Instead, he stroked her slim arms gently. "My pleasure."

And it was. How often had he wished for someone with whom to share a moment like that? In spite of his father, he'd been close to his siblings and it was natural for him to wish for someone to see what he saw, to share those magical mornings with. He pointed toward the valley. "Did you see that?"

"Yes. It's even more beautiful than I expected. You're so lucky to have a place like this."

That was one way to look at it. "I am," he heard himself say. The weird motion that strange hope grew another notch in his chest. It scared him.

"If you want to go back to bed, you can," he said, stepping away.

"No." She ambled to the edge of the porch, gazing out at the landscape. He found his attention snagging on her strong legs, bare under the shorts. Without warning, he remembered the sight of her smooth, graceful back last night, the tiny glimpse of white breast he'd seen under her arm. The memory both aroused and shamed him. "I'm sorry about last night, Miss Mary."

Impossible to read the look in her eyes just then. He was sorry if he'd said anything to break the spell of the magic, glorious morning. As awkward as a thirteen-year-old, he glanced away.

"I peeked, too," she said, and a tinge of rose colored her cheeks.

"No, you didn't. I kept my eyes on you."

"Not last night," she said and folded her arms. "The day at the river, back in Kismet."

He remembered the morning and grinned. "Guess we're even, then, huh?"

She nodded, smiling in return.

Just that fast, Zeke was slain. Early gold light washed over her, gilding the silky cap of hair, edging the curve of a small ear, cascading down her long white neck. Her tank top had slipped on one side, giving him a broad view of her shoulder. It would be so easy, he thought, so easy to flick those straps from her shoulders and send that ugly little shirt slipping away.

The vision hurt. The swelling wish for what? collapsed like a balloon in hisheart, and he remembered the others. Not so many as some might expect, but enough women to know he couldn't get it right, that he'd take what Mattie offered so generously, then destroy it, somehow or another. This time, he'd just leave it alone.

"If you want to go on and get dressed," he said with effort, "we can have some breakfast. Maybe go hiking." That would keep them busy, at least.

"Will you show me how that shower works first? I'm dying to get cleaned up."

The shower. He stared at her for a long minute, willing himself to be an adult, to behave as if he'd learned how to control his more carnal impulses. d.a.m.n. The shower.

"Is that a problem?" she asked. "I can just wash up, instead."

"No. No, it's not a problem. Get your stuff and I'll show you how it works."

Barefoot, shirtless, Zeke led the way. Mattie followed, trying to keep her eyes to herself. It was hard. Each step he took made the muscles shift and ripple in his long, strong back, in his hips below the snug-fitting jeans, in his thighs.

The shower stunned her. She'd been expecting a little building, like the outhouse. This was just a small wooden platform, built about a foot off the ground with wide slats to let the water pa.s.s through to the ground beneath. A pipe led from inside the wooden building with the sauna to a shower head on the wall. "This is it?" she asked.

Zeke looked uncomfortable. "It works pretty well I've got it rigged to draw water from the pool inside. It's not gonna be real hot, but it's warm enough." He showed her how to make the water run. "Short bursts work best. Get wet, then soap up and shower off."

Mattie nodded.

"I won't peek this time," he said. "Promise. I'll get breakfast going."

"Thanks."

He left her, disappearing around the building. He wouldn't be able to see her from the cabin, that much was sure, and it was very private land. No one but the deer and birds as audience.

Still, she hesitated, standing next to the platform in the warm morning sunlight, her towel and fresh clothes hugged close to her chest as if in protection. She looked around, gnawing the inside of her lip.

The vista of the valley was visible over the top of the trees from the shower, the same view as from the back porch of the cabin. She was sure Zeke had positioned it here deliberately, but all that scenery made her feel even more vulnerable.

Maybe she could just wash up a little, forget about the shower. Except she itched all over from yesterday's dust and sweat and rainwater.

Slowly, she put her things down and stood up, taking one more quick glance over her shoulder to see if there was anything or anyone around. There wasn't, of course. Just Mattie and the open vista.

She took a breath and shed her tank top, then her shorts. A ripple touched her skin and all the parts that had never seen real, live daylight felt extraordinarily exposed. She stepped onto the platform.

Standing there nude, with a soft breeze blowing over her, with that panorama before her, something happened. It wasn't shameful as she'd thought it might be. Nor was it arousing, though there was something empowering about shedding everything this way.

A burst of something holy and wild and real filled her, and with great reverence, she gazed around her, feeling no longer an observer of the landscape, but a part of it. Without knowing why, she lifted her arms and tipped back her head to the sunlight, letting wind and sun touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Had she ever been aware of her body like this? Had she ever known the comfort of her body, the wonder of having arms and legs and b.r.e.a.s.t.s and hips?

Thank you, she breathed, but didn't know to whom she breathed it, Zeke or G.o.d or the mountain. As if in reply, a mountain bluebird flitted nearby, whistling, and Mattie laughed.

Following Zeke's instructions, she showered, and it was a delicious experience, as well. Going back up the hillside, dressed and clean, she found herself humming a song from the Song of the South , "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning."

Zeke crouched on the porch, putting something in two little bowls. One held water, the other sliced canned peaches. "What's that for?" Mattie asked, rubbing a towel over her hair.

"Rocky," he said, enigmatically. "You'll see. Come on inside. Breakfast is just about done."

A smell of baking greeted her as she stepped inside, leaving the door open behind her. Zeke bent and took a heavy cast-iron m.u.f.fin tray out of the oven, and the scent of the oversize m.u.f.fins made her mouth water. "Poppyseed m.u.f.fins?" she said lightly. "I'm impressed."

"Well, don't be." He put the tray down on top of the stove and lifted his chin to an empty package of m.u.f.fin mix. "Add water and pour."

She smiled as she helped herself to coffee, still humming with the powerful sense of well-being that had engulfed her at the shower. "They smell good."

"Go ahead. There's no b.u.t.ter, but you kind of get used to it without."

Mattie took a steaming m.u.f.fin from the pan. Holding the coffee in one hand, the m.u.f.fin in the other, she wandered the room, her gaze snagging on a trio of snapshots stuck with thumbtacks to the wall by the bookcase. She'd missed them earlier, for they were somewhat hidden by the shadows. Now she leaned forward to examine them, munching her breakfast.

The first was of a horse, beautiful even to Mattie's untrained eye tall and lean with a glimmering black coat and a long tail. The next showed Zeke astride the horse, a worn cowboy hat on his head, smiling. She glanced over her shoulder, but he was studiously ignoring her to gaze out the door.

The third photo pinched her. Zeke with his arm thrown around the shoulders of a tall striking blond woman. A man knelt nearby, holding a trophy of some kind. The woman looked at Zeke with the kind of hungry, worshipful expression on her face Mattie knew she'd often given him. In the background were the noses of three horses hanging over a fence like the one just outside. "Was this picture taken here?" she asked, pointing to it.