Page 25 of Point of Mercy

The girls were given time to change after the food had been served, and they, along with the hands and guests, danced on the plank deck while the flames of the torches gave off a flickering light. The music was a blend of country and old rock and roll, and Heather danced with several of the ranch hands and guests before she found herself in Turner’s arms.

The lead singer, as if on cue, started singing a slow ballad by the Judds that nearly broke Heather’s heart.

Turner’s arms folded around her and she clung to him with a desperation born of fear. Tears burned behind her eyes. Soon he would leave. As surely as the sun would rise in the east, Turner would be gone.

And what was she supposed to do? Live her life as if she’d never met him? Pretend that their affair hadn’t existed? Save enough money for art school and find an apartment in the city? She thought of her sister’s life-style, once so envied, that now didn’t have the same fascination for her. The bright lights of the city, the dazzle of theater openings, the glitter of dance clubs had dimmed as she’d come to know and love Turner.

She snuggled deeper in his arms, closing her eyes as his scent enveloped her.Leather and denim and smoke from the branding fire mixed with soap and horses to create a special male aroma. His body molded against hers, and beneath the sundress she wore, her skin turned warm. His lips pressed against her bare neck and she tingled all over….

The song ended, and Turner whispered, “Meet me in the barn at midnight,” before they parted and found new partners. She fell into the arms of a hefty guest named Ron, who stepped on her toes, and Turner wound up dancing with Sheryl. Heather gritted her teeth and forced a smile and tried not to watch as Sheryl smiled up at Turner and whispered something in his ear. Turner laughed and Sheryl cast a superior glance in Heather’s direction.

Heather turned her attention back to her partner and started counting down the minutes until midnight.

* * *

Turner was waitingfor her. His silhouette was visible against the window as she stepped into the darkened barn.

“I thought you might have changed your mind,” he said.

“Never.” Running to him, she threw herself into his open arms and met his hot lips with her own.

“Not here…. Come on,” he whispered, taking her hand and leading her to the ladder that stretched to the hayloft. He followed her into the bower of fragrant hay and together they tumbled onto a mattress of loose straw. His lips found hers again and the hunger in his kiss told her that he would leave soon. There was a surrender in his movements that she’d never felt before, as if he hoped in one night to take his fill of her.

She met his fevered lovemaking with her own flaming desire. She closed her mind to the future, lost herself in the here and now and made love to him with all the passion and fear that tortured her heart.

“I love you,” she whispered recklessly, as she straddled him and her hair fell around her face and shoulders in thick golden waves.

Turner gazed up at her, his eyes glazed, his face flushed with desire. “Don’t say—”

“But I do, Turner,” she gasped.

He placed a finger over her lips, and she caressed it with her mouth and tongue, convulsing over him as he bucked upward and released himself deep within her. “Heather,” he cried. “Sweet, sweet, lady.” His arms were around her and he pulled her sweat-soaked body down to rest on his.

She felt tears fill her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry, not in front of him. Together they lay, entwined, their hearts beating rapidly, their breath mingling in the warm summer air. Turner’s arms were wound possessively around her and his lips touched her hair. They lay on their backs, staring through the open window near the apex of the roof, and watched the stars wink in the dark sky.

“I can’t stay here forever,” Turner said as he kissed her temple and plucked a piece of straw from her hair.

Her throat was so tight, she could barely whisper, “Why not?”

“I’ve got a life out there.”

Oh, God, not now! Please not now! Her world seemed to crack. “So you’re just a ramblin’ man,” she said,fighting tears and the sarcasm that poisoned her words. She’d promised herself that when he wanted to leave, she wouldn’t tie him down, but now she felt desperate to do anything,anythingto stop him.

“I guess.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and told herself she wouldn’t break down, wouldn’t shed one solitary tear for this man whose heart was hard enough that he could walk away.

“You’ll leave soon anyway, too,” he said calmly, though his voice was rougher than usual. “You’ve got school in the fall—”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“Sure it does.” He levered up on one elbow and studied the features of her face so intently she looked away. “Heather, you have a chance—to do what you want. Go for it. Don’t let anyone take your dreams away from you.”

“Like someone took yours from you?” she guessed, and he stiffened.

“I always wanted to be a cowboy.”

“Little boys want to ride horses and shoot guns,” she said, touching his arm, feeling the downy hair beneath her fingers. “Grown men like to sit in offices, order their secretaries around and play golf.”

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