A Wedding in Willow Valley (Willow Valley Women) Read online

  “I have to because I keep making mistakes.”

  “Is it a mistake to want me, Laurel?” he said, dragging a restless hand through his hair. “Is it? No, because I want you, too. Now. Tonight. No promises. No regrets. No talk about tomorrow. Just tonight. Us. Together. How could that possibly be wrong?”

  “I don’t know if… I can’t think straight.”

  “Laurel, I closed the door when we came in here. I shut out the world beyond this house, this moment. No one exists but the two of us.”

  Laurel nodded slowly. “No promises. No regrets. Just tonight.”

  “Our night.” Ben framed Laurel’s face in his hands and looked directly into her eyes. “It’s up to you. Say yes or no. The decision is yours to make.”

  There was no decision to make, nothing to ponder, weigh and measure, Laurel thought as heat suffused her. She wanted to make love with Ben so much. Tonight. Their night. No promises. No regrets. She refused to think, she was just going to feel, savor, give herself this stolen moment out of time like a precious gift to be cherished. All she had to do was say…

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, Ben, yes. Just this night, this one night. Yes.”

  A groan rumbled in Ben’s chest as he kissed Laurel deeply, then broke the kiss to encircle her shoulders with his arm and lead her from the kitchen. They went up the stairs to Ben’s room. The storm had passed through and the moon and the sparkling stars cast a silvery glow through the skylight above Ben’s king-size bed.

  Ben flung back the blankets on the bed, then extended one hand to Laurel in a last gesture to allow her to change her mind. She looked at his large hand, understanding what he was doing, then met his gaze as a soft womanly smile formed on her lips. She placed her hand in his.

  Ben wrapped his fingers gently around hers, then closed his eyes for a moment to allow the anticipation of what was to come to consume him, touch his heart, his mind, his very soul.

  By unspoken agreement they shed their clothes quickly, urgently, letting them fall where they may. They stood naked before the other with no apprehension, sweeping their gazes over the other, seeing the subtle changes that nature had brought as they’d matured.

  “You’re beautiful, Laurel Windsong,” Ben said, his voice husky with building passion.

  “And you are magnificent,” she said, her voice hushed with awe.

  Ben stepped behind her, and with hands that trembled slightly, he undid the thick braid of her hair. He sifted his fingers through it, watching the ebony tresses glide like a silken waterfall. He turned her toward him and floated her hair over her breasts, his heart thundering.

  “Nizhonigo nanina,” he said.

  “Ahehee,” Laurel whispered.

  “No, don’t thank me. You do walk in beauty.”

  Ben lifted her into his arms, placed her in the center of the bed and followed her down, catching his weight on his forearms. He kissed her, parting her lips, delving his tongue into the sweet darkness beyond, where she met his tongue with hers, stroking, dueling, dancing, causing heated desire to rush throughout them.

  He brushed her hair aside to seek and find one of her breasts, laving the nipple with his tongue, then moving to the other one as she splayed her hands on his back, savoring the feel of his bunching muscles beneath her palms. He left the rich bounty of her breasts to move lower, trailing a ribbon of kisses along her dewy skin. A purr of pleasure escaped from Laurel’s lips.

  It was familiar, evoking memories that refused to stay in the shadows of their minds. Yet it was new and rich and wonderful, as well. They caressed, kissed, explored, discovering what they already knew and rejoicing in the changes time had brought.

  When they could bear no more, they each called the name of the other. Ben entered Laurel’s willing body, filling her with all that he was, then beginning the rocking rhythm that she matched in perfect synchronization.

  It was ecstasy. It was heated tension coiling tighter and tighter within them, lifting them upward to the place they wished to go…together. Higher. Hotter. The cadence now pounding, earthy and urgent.

  And then they were there a second apart, flung over the top of reality and reason to burst upon the splendor that awaited them.

  “Ben!”

  “Ah, my Laurel.”

  They clung tightly to each other, then drifted slowly back down. Ben kissed Laurel, then moved off her, tucking her close to his side. He once again sifted his fingers through her hair, watching it fall over her breasts as she nestled her head on his shoulder.

  Time lost meaning and sleep began to creep over their senses.

  “You are the only man,” Laurel said, her lashes drifting down, “I have ever made love with. Ever. I don’t know why I need you to know that, I just do.”

  “And you are the only woman I’ve ever made love with, Laurel,” Ben said. “There has been no one else since you left Willow Valley. And now you’re home.”

  “Just for now, Ben. I don’t know where I’ll be in the future.”

  “We’re not talking about the future,” he said. “There’s only tonight in this private world of ours. Remember?”

  Laurel opened her eyes and kissed the strong column of Ben’s neck.

  “I remember,” she said.

  “No regrets?”

  “No,” she said. How could there be? She loved him beyond measure, would always love him. “No.”

  “Good,” he said. Oh, how he wanted to tell her how he felt, declare his love just as he’d done so many years before. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t do that because it would serve no purpose. “That’s good.”

  “It’s strange somehow, Ben,” Laurel said, “to have made love in this house that was only a fantasy, a dream so long ago and now really exists. It’s almost unworldly, difficult to grasp somehow and…oh, I can’t explain it.”

  “I understand what you’re saying. I almost didn’t build it because it was supposed to have been ours, but you were gone, and now here you are in this house we talked about so much back then. You’re really here.”

  “Just for tonight.”

  “The night this house became a home.”

  Laurel didn’t speak as threatening tears closed her throat. Ben reached down and drew the sheet and blankets up over them.

  And they slept.

  Sunlight poured through the skylight, nudging Laurel from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes, then frowned in confusion as she realized she had no idea where she was. In the next instant the fogginess of sleep dissipated and she gasped as she sat bolt upright on the bed.

  “Oh, no,” she said as she looked at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was almost eight o’clock.

  Laurel flung back the blankets, left the bed and began to search frantically around the room for her scattered clothes.

  “Whoa, slow down, Laurel,” Ben said, appearing in the doorway.

  She began to pull on her clothes as she glared at him, seeing that his hair was still damp from a shower and he was wearing a crisp, clean uniform.

  “I’m late for work,” she said, “and my mother probably thinks I’m dead in a ditch. I had no intention of sleeping through the night. Oh, this is terrible. Darn it, where are my shoes?”

  “Laurel,” Ben said, walking forward, “chill. I called your mother and said you’d be arriving at the café late. She said she’d already figured that out and not to worry about it. She sounded very chipper, wasn’t a bit upset as far as I could tell.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Laurel said, sitting down on the edge of the bed to put on the discovered shoes. “I told her I was coming out here to talk to you but— So when I didn’t show up again at home, she just assumed…and she’s calm, cool and chipper?”

  “Yep.” Ben paused. “Want some breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not in a very good mood, Laurel. At least have a cup of coffee.”

  “Benjamin Skeeter,” she said, jumping to her feet again, “you know darn well that somehow, somehow, wo
rd will get out that I spent the night with you.”

  “You think?” he said, smiling.

  “I know,” she said, nearly shrieking. “And you know it, too, darn it. Why aren’t you upset?”

  Ben shrugged. “What’s the point? I’ve lived here my entire life and I know how things work. Everyone went nuts about what I said regarding you not cutting your hair. The gossipmongers have already made up their minds that something is finally happening between us after your being back for four months. Let them enjoy themselves.”

  “Whatever,” Laurel said, sighing. “I have no one to blame but myself because I should have left right after we… Never mind. What’s done is done.”

  “Don’t diminish what we shared, Laurel,” Ben said quietly. “It was too special, too beautiful. No regrets, remember?”

  “You’re right,” she said, nodding. “People will get tired of watching us, speculating about what is going on after a while, I suppose. We just won’t comment if they say anything. You and I know it was just one night, a stolen night.”

  Ben closed the distance between them.

  “Why?” he said, looking directly into her eyes.

  “Why what?”

  “Why does it have to be just one night? The facts are clear. You don’t know if you’re staying in Willow Valley or moving on, so there’s no point in looking toward any future together. Why not live in the present, one day at a time, one night at a time?”

  “I’m…I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Ben.”

  “Neither of us can get hurt, Laurel, because we’re not kidding ourselves here. What we had ten years ago is over. We’re not the same people, not even close. But who we are now? We enjoy each other’s company. We’re going to be in close contact, along with Dove, to be certain that Grandfather is all right. And you can’t deny that we make sweet, sweet love together. You might pack up and leave next week for all I know, but in the meantime…”

  “This is starting to sound rather tacky, Ben,” she said, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

  “No, it isn’t. Not if we’re on the same page, understand that we’re not making any long-term commitment. Think about it. I’ll respect your decision.” Ben paused. “I have to get going. I’m picking up Bethany and going back over to Prescott for Yazzie’s hearing in front of the judge. Have something to eat before you leave if you want to.”

  “No. No, I have to get home, shower and change, do something with this tangled mess that’s supposed to be my hair and…”

  “Hey,” he said, drawing one thumb over her cheek. “Don’t be sorry about last night. Please, Laurel, don’t do that. It was ours, it was fantastic. Whether or not we’re together again is up to you, but don’t spoil what we shared. Please.”

  Laurel drew a shuddering breath. “You’re right. It was wonderful. And ours. I’m not sorry it happened, Ben. I promise.”

  Ben nodded, brushed his lips over hers then turned and strode from the room. A few minutes later Laurel heard the front door close behind him and she sank down on the edge of the bed, her trembling legs refusing to hold her for another second. Two tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Oh, God, Ben,” she said, a sob catching in her throat. “I’m not sorry about last night because I love you so much. So very, very much.”

  She dashed the tears from her cheeks and stared up at the skylight.

  Could she do what Ben had proposed? she thought. Could she continue to be with him even though they had no future together? Take one day, one night at a time, not think about the tomorrows of loneliness when she finally healed from the pain of what had happened in Virginia and moved on? Could she honestly do that?

  She didn’t know. She just didn’t know.

  As Ben drove away from the house to pick up Bethany on the reservation, he shook his head.

  He was nuts, certifiably insane, he thought. He’d actually said it, opened his big mouth and told Laurel they should continue to be lovers for as long as it lasted. No strings attached. He hadn’t even realized he was going to suggest such a thing until the words were out there, hanging in the air.

  But the mere image in his mind of Laurel walking out of that house—that home—never to return had suddenly been more than he could bear. He had, he supposed, sounded very casual and “hey, why not?” about it, when within him he was frantic, wanted to beg Laurel to promise that she’d be with him again and…

  God, he was losing it. He was so much in love with a woman who no longer loved him, didn’t even trust him enough to tell him the secrets that were haunting her regarding why she’d come running back to Willow Valley. He was so pathetic it was a crime.

  But he didn’t care how lame he was. He would hope and pray that Laurel would agree to be with him for as long as it lasted, until she left him again. Then he’d relive the precious memories of their time together as he went through his days—and nights—alone.

  But what if Laurel came to love him again as she once had? What if they could piece together their shattered dreams and have everything they’d planned to have so many years before? What if— No, he was kidding himself.

  Laurel didn’t trust him with her innermost secrets, and she sure as hell wasn’t in love with him anymore, would never love him again.

  So he’d swallow his stubborn Navajo pride and hope she’d agree to continue to be with him for as long as it lasted.

  At least Laurel wouldn’t know that he still loved her. At least she wouldn’t know that she still possessed his heart, the very essence of his soul, and would for all time.

  At least she wouldn’t know that.

  Chapter Eight

  Laurel stood outside the rear door of the Windsong Café and fixed what she hoped was a somewhat pleasant yet rather nondescript expression on her face.

  During the drive home from Ben’s, through her shower, the braiding of her hair and donning fresh clothes, she’d lectured herself firmly regarding the necessity of presenting a relaxed, I-don’t-have-a-care-in-the-world demeanor to the customers at the café.

  Rumors and gossip regarding her, Ben and the previous night would build in intensity soon enough without her adding fuel to that annoying fire by appearing nervous, edgy and guilty as sin.

  She entered the café, hung her jacket in the office then zoomed into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, everyone,” she sang out.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” Jane said, glancing over at Laurel from where she was frying eggs and bacon on the grill. “Things are a bit slow this morning, which is normal for the middle of the week. Dove is out front, though, having a cup of tea and a muffin.”

  “Oh, well, I guess I’ll go talk to her and see how Eagle is today,” Laurel said, picking up a pad and pencil. “Anything else I should know?”

  “People are talking about Yazzie, of course,” Jane said, sliding eggs onto a plate, “and how they hope the judge over in Prescott won’t be too harsh in regard to what he did.” Bacon joined the eggs. “Everyone is very proud of Eagle and how he tried to save his cousin from making such a dreadful mistake.”

  “Dove must be ready to burst her buttons with pride,” Laurel said, nodding. “Is that the extent of…the buzz this morning?”

  “No, not really,” Jane said, adding hash browns and toast to the plate.

  “No?” Laurel said weakly.

  “There’s a concern over the fact that we lost the majority of the autumn leaves and what that will do to the tourist trade. All the shop owners are worried about the loss of revenue, including me.” She turned and extended the plate toward Laurel. “Here. Give this to Cadillac, will you, please?”

  “Sure,” Laurel said, taking the plate. “There is nothing else being discussed out front?”

  Jane shrugged. “Not that I know of. Go. Before that food gets cold.”

  Laurel frowned and left the kitchen, placing the plate in front of Cadillac moments later.

  “So, Cadillac,” she said, “what’s new?”

  “Waitin’ to hear how Yaz
zie does in Prescott,” Cadillac said. “Coffee?”

  “Here you go,” Laurel said, filling his mug. “What else is going on?”

  “I’m done talking ’cause I’m eating my breakfast,” Cadillac said, hunching over his plate.

  “Enjoy,” Laurel said, staring at him for a long moment to see if he’d speak further. “So much for that.”

  She came around the counter and crossed the floor to slide into the booth opposite Dove.

  “Hi, Dove,” she said. “How’s Eagle?”

  “He went to school looking like a raccoon with his black eyes,” Dove said, then took a sip of tea. “He’s quite the hero, you know. But we’re so worried about Yazzie.” She shook her head. “Not only that, I brought some blankets in this morning, and none of my regulars would take them because they’re waiting to see what kind of tourist traffic we get over the weekend. Word will have reached Phoenix and beyond that the pretty leaves are about gone.”

  “And it’s a long time before there’s enough snow to bring the skiers,” Laurel said.

  Dove nodded and took a bite of muffin.

  “I guess the topics of Yazzie and the rather frightening financial situation in town are the only things on people’s minds today.”

  “Mmm,” Dove said, nodding.

  Laurel leaned forward. “You haven’t heard about anything…else, Dove?”

  “No one seems to have any information about Grandfather’s health,” Dove said. “I think we’re going to have to confront him on the subject.”

  “Oh.” Laurel glanced around. “It’s pretty quiet in here. Maybe I should see if someone needs more coffee or whatever.”

  “Susie just did that,” Dove said. “I saw her go table to table.”

  “Oh.”

  “Isn’t it amazing how Ben’s house turned out exactly the way he used to talk about how it would be?” Dove said. “He did most of the work himself, you know. It took him such a long time, but it was worth it. He gave me a tour when it was finished. I think the skylight in his bedroom is a marvelous touch, don’t you?”