Rainsinger Read online

  Daniel coaxed the puppy at his feet to let go of his thumb and stood. Winona had captured a furry brown dog with a darker mask on his face. She held it like baby, its big, golden paws up in the air, its head cradled in her elbow. As Daniel watched, she scratched the pup’s belly and chest and chin, then put her face down and let the pup kiss her chin in return. “You’re a pretty baby,” she cooed.

  The puppy made a low, ecstatic groan. Winona laughed softly and kissed his head.

  “Looks like love to me,” Daniel said.

  “He’s a doll. I miss dogs.” She shifted to show him the puppy’s chest. “He has a cross. Isn’t it pretty?”

  In the midst of the gold fur was a perfect, white cross from just below his chin to the middle of his belly, the crossbar going from shoulder to shoulder. “Must mean he’s really special,” he said.

  “Think so?” Again she gave him that soft, womanly smile. Her lips curved invitingly, and he felt a stirring heat in his groin. The puppy wiggled as she rubbed his head, and Daniel knew just how the dog felt. He’d be wiggling in joy, too.

  Or maybe not. If Daniel were cradled snugly against the curve of her breast, he’d just turn his head a bit and open his mouth—

  Abruptly he said, “Let’s go see if Joleen is finding what she wants.”

  As if she felt nothing amiss, Winona knelt to put the puppy down gently. Daniel found his eyes skittering over the impossibly bright crown of her head, down the line of her collarbone, down to the neckline of her simple tank top. She bent over to put the puppy on the ground, and Daniel frankly admired the rich, inviting expanse of flesh the position revealed. He caught sight of the merest flash of lace—enough to realize it was not black this time, but a shimmery lime green. She started to get up, and the puppy plopped on the edge of her skirt. She laughed softly again, and Daniel held his breath as she bent over to nudge the baby off the fabric. The puppy, thinking it was a game, lunged for her hem and grabbed it in his mouth.

  “No, baby,” Winona said quietly. She put her hand on the puppy’s back to hold him still.

  Her hair swept forward, curling around her face, and her top gaped over her breasts. And Daniel could not, not for all the money in the world or the ability to hard-wire the world into the computer revolution, force himself to look away. The bra was indeed green, made of some kind of shiny lace, the merest scrap of nothing whispering over white flesh that showed through the flowers.

  The view was all the more compelling—and arousing—because he knew she’d never willingly tempt a man in such a way. She was utterly unaware of what he could see from his vantage point.

  Gripped in a wave of pure lust, Daniel did not move. Didn’t even breathe. The forbidden aspect of it appealed to the hormone-crazed adolescent that lives in the hearts of all men, and he ached to see the fabric burst and free the lush fruit it contained. He was desperately aroused by the sight, achingly taunted with visions of his tongue on that silvered green lace, soaking it until the dark aureole showed clearly. His mind offered a vision of his teeth on the thin covering, tearing it to expose the ambrosia below.

  It made his skin hot all over, under his hair and in his cheeks and the itchy palms of his hands.

  But the man in him grew ashamed. Abruptly he knelt to help her. “Hey, there, tiger,” he said, slipping a thumb in the puppy’s mouth to gently free his grip. “Don’t be tearing up her clothes.”

  He stood up, gathering the puppy into his arms almost as if he were a shield, careful to avoid looking at Winona again. He just might be able to act like a thirty-something adult if he could cool off for a second.

  “Thanks,” Winona said.

  “No problem.” He moved into the barn, all too aware of the heat in his throat, the thready pulse in his unruly, adolescent member. The air in the barn was dark and cool, and he sucked it in gratefully, smelling the potent earthy mix of hay and animals.

  Daniel paused to let his eyes adjust, hearing Joleen and Sue somewhere to the back. Winona bumped into him from behind and he heard her quick chuckle.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t see you,” she apologized.

  The puppy in his arms whined and tried to scramble over Daniel’s shoulders to get back to Winona. She reached for him at the same moment Daniel turned, and somehow, they were way too close. Close enough that Daniel could feel the moistness of her breath on his cheek. Almost eye-to-eye, he stared at her, and saw the flickering in her irises, heard the quick catch of her breath. If he wanted to, he could tip forward three inches and capture that succulent mouth. Just lean a little and—

  Suddenly, Winona lifted the puppy from his arms, and moved away. He frowned after her, watching the tiny mirrors on her skirt wink in the gloom. He let his breath out in a slow, steadying stream, tamping down the tangle of emotions rising in him.

  What the hell was going on with him, anyway? For a moment he stood where he was, hands on hips, his attention fixed within himself, willing the tiny, combustive bubbles in his blood to cease. He disliked the chaotic tone they brought to his mind.

  Chaos wasn’t his style. He liked things to be orderly, reasonable, explained by logical means. Even in relationships, he knew why he reacted emotionally.

  Nothing about his reaction to Winona was remotely orderly, or logical, or reasonable. Since she’d come into his life, he’d been reacting, not acting. It was emotional, right-brain idiocy. Totally out of character.

  He narrowed his eyes. There was always a logical answer to things. He just had to think. Analytically, he concentrated on the threads of emotion he’d been feeling. What were they exactly? Desire. No, be honest, he told himself. Desire was too mild. He had the first case of furious lust that he’d ever known. No, lust wasn’t quite right, either. It sounded slobbery.

  With an impatient noise, he turned on his heel and went out into the bright, desert day, where he could think.

  Not desire. Not lust. What, then? He closed his eyes, went deep, called the emotion back. Hunger. That was it. What he felt was the primal mating hunger, as primitive and ingrained and old as the earth itself.

  Yes. That was chemical. Hormonal. Scientific. It happened with Winona because his body recognized she would be a good mate for him—if she bore his children, they would be strong, healthy babies, able to work long and hard.

  The knot of anxiety in his belly eased. He could manage something chemical and primal. It wasn’t even particularly surprising. He was thirty-six years old and had not had a woman in a long, long time. The need was bound to overtake him at some point.

  Which didn’t solve the problem of what he ought to do about it. If he resisted the chemical urge, would it dissipate, or just grow stronger? He watched a magpie sail from the branch of an elm to the ground to capture an insect, as he considered his choices.

  The alternative to resistance was to pursue her with the intention of relieving his hunger. Which led to another, stickier set of questions. To commitments he had no intention of making to anyone. To emotions he didn’t understand and couldn’t control. To disorder, chaos—

  Pain.

  No, he’d resist. It was impossible to avoid her company, but he could use all kinds of tricks to keep his mind where it belonged. He’d do equations in his head, or compose software formulas—whatever. It was only a few months until fall. He prided himself on being a man of discipline. He’d manage.

  That settled, he strode back into the barn.

  * * *

  When Daniel joined them at the back of the barn, Winona ignored him. He was the prickliest man sometimes. Honestly, she didn’t understand him at all.

  To distract herself, she petted the rabbits, trying to keep the puppy from tripping her at every turn.

  “That dog likes you,” Sue said, nudging the pup away with her toe.

  “He’s so cute.” Winona looked at him. She loved dogs, and this one was a prize. Biting her lip, she asked, “How much are you charging for them?”

  “Fifty,” Sue said. “They’re mixed breed, but they’re damne
d good dogs. You have sheep?”

  Winona shook her head. Fifty dollars. Not a chance. Reluctantly she put the notion out of her mind.

  Joleen picked out three lop-eared rabbits, one brown and two black-and-white. She cuddled the brown one close to her chest. “They’re so soft!” she exclaimed. “Daniel, did you see?”

  His laughter was low and honest and Winona raised her guard more firmly, trying not to see the long-fingered brown hand move on the rabbit’s fur. “Are these the ones you want?”

  “We have to get some lumber and chicken wire for hutches,” he said to Sue. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours for them.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  The puppy playfully nipped Winona’s heel as they all headed out of the barn again. “Ow,” she said, pausing to give the baby one more little hug before she left. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  The puppy eagerly scrambled onto her knees, and Winona let the others go on without her. She sat in the dust, unmindful of her appearance, and let the puppy lick her chin as she rubbed his soft ears and plump little belly. “You’re such a sweetie,” she said. “Wish I could take you home.”

  Maybe the woman would let Winona make payments. She might be able to eke out half the price up front. Or maybe they could work out a trade—Winona could help with some planting or other work.

  But even as she thought of it, she let the notion go. It wasn’t fair to Joleen for Winona to spend the little money they had on a puppy and his upkeep. With a sigh, she picked up the pup, cuddled him close, then put him down.

  He ran after her, but Winona ignored him. As she got in the truck, Sue grabbed the pup and held him. He barked urgently.

  “That’s your dog, Winona,” Joleen said. “Why don’t you get him?”

  “Rabbits are plenty for one trip,” she said lightly.

  In town, Daniel said, “I’ll go get the material we need for the hutches. You two can go hang out, and maybe we can stop and get something to eat before we go back.”

  He didn’t look at her as he spoke, Winona noticed. He looked everywhere but at her, as a matter of fact. She wondered with a tiny prick of uncertainty if she’d hurt his feelings by running away from him in the barn. If she hadn’t scrambled off, would he have kissed her again? It had certainly seemed as though that was in his mind.

  She stared at him as if the answer would appear in a ticker tape across his forehead. Which of course it didn’t. He glanced down at his watch. “An hour?” he asked.

  His eyes finally met hers and she could read nothing in the dark irises, nothing in the disciplined features. Winona realized abruptly that she was searching for traces of the desire she’d glimpsed earlier. None showed.

  “An hour is fine.”

  “Over there, then.” He lifted his chin to indicate a small restaurant nestled between a drugstore and the supermarket. He turned to get back in the truck, then stopped. “Joleen.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’m gonna make you a deal.” He pulled out his wallet and peeled off a twenty-dollar bill.

  “You don’t have to—” Winona protested.

  He gave her a single, penetrating look that said he knew she didn’t have any money. Firmly he put the money in Joleen’s hand. “I’m building you a hutch for those rabbits, but you have to do something for me in return.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Buy yourself something to wear. Something girly, eh?”

  Joleen hesitated, her mouth going hard. “I don’t...“ She bit her lip.

  “It will be good for you,” he said. “Can’t live your life in a baseball hat.”

  She still said nothing, holding her hand with the money in it as if to press it back at him.

  Daniel gave Winona a slight, but discernible wink. Trust me, it said.

  With a frown, Winona realized he could communicate anything with his mobile mouth and flashing eyes. But only when he wanted to.

  “Can I?” Joleen asked finally.

  In spite of everything, Winona trusted him. Even on such short acquaintance she could see he was the rare man who could understand children. “Yes, you may,” she said, and was rewarded with a smile from both of them.

  “See you in an hour.”

  * * *

  The transformation was miraculous, Winona thought, admiring Joleen’s choice. Although the small town had very limited shopping, Joleen had managed to try on every article of “girly” clothing she could find. She settled on a simple green print sundress that left her arms bare. The bias-cut fabric swirled around her dainty figure and highlighted the golden tones in her skin.

  She had had to shed the hat and glasses to put the dress on, and Winona spied her real little sister for the first time since returning home. Her pale-blond hair was growing out, and with a proper cut might look adorably elfin. Winona considered suggesting a quick trip to the hairdresser, but instead found an inexpensive beret. When Joleen took it, smiling secretively, she knew she’d made the right choice. The girl pulled the soft, green hat to her hairline, a look very few females could get away with, and it served to emphasize her gamine face, the aquiline nose and big eyes. For the first time, Winona saw that her sister was going to have a very sultry look when she grew up a little.

  Winona wanted to chortle with happiness, but simply gave a nod. “You resemble a young Michelle Pfeiffer.”

  “You think so?” Joleen cocked her head and hammed to the mirror. With her uncanny ability, she mimicked Pfeiffer’s Cat Woman. “Meow.”

  “How about if we find a pair of sandals or something?”

  “No way. The shoes are perfect.”

  They were tennis shoes that had seen better days, but Winona only shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  Joleen wore the outfit. Even with the old shoes and the horrible glasses, her appearance was such an improvement Winona could barely believe it was the same girl.

  And by putting on the dress, Joleen seemed to don a new attitude, as well. The old walk—free and loose and unconsciously sexy—was back, and Winona even caught the girl smiling at a boy on a bike.

  They walked around the block toward the little restaurant, and Winona spied Daniel’s truck. Daniel stood in front of it, holding an animal, stroking it under the chin.

  “Winona, look!”

  Quietly she said, “I see.”

  Daniel had his head cocked, waiting for them. His gaze was fixed unwaveringly on Winona, a steady, waiting gaze that revealed only a faint light of pleasure. As they neared the truck, he shifted those fathomless eyes toward Joleen, who was desperately waiting for comment. “Hey, Little Owl,” he said in a low, resonant voice, “you really are a girl, aren’t you?”

  The puppy in Daniel’s arms whined and gave a wiggle as Winona approached. His big, brown eyes seemed to shine with happiness, and his panting mouth seemed to smile. The big, clumsy paws hung over Daniel’s wrist. She touched his head.

  “I was finished early so I thought I’d pick up the rabbits. And he told me he had to have you,” Daniel said quietly, but didn’t release the dog.

  “I don’t have the money,” she said, a little embarrassed.

  “I know. Sue owed me a favor.”

  He stepped closer and settled the pup in her arms. His hand brushed her breast, only fleetingly, and Winona smelled sunlight in his hair, that scent of heat and summer that emanated from him like a narcotic.

  Deeply touched by his kindness, she raised her head. His dark eyes were liquid now, shifting and soft. “Everybody ought to have a dog,” he said.

  She didn’t look away. “Thank you.”

  He stayed close. For a moment, it was as if the rest of the world had disappeared, and only Daniel and Winona and the puppy existed. Winona found herself noticing a thousand things about his face, all of them at once—a small, old scar near his eye, the tender, vulnerable look of the flesh over his temple, the faint weather lines around his mouth. It was a face she wanted to kiss, slowly and with great concentration on every detail that made
it unique and his alone.

  As if she’d spoken the wish aloud, he swayed infinitesimally closer, and she saw desire, clear and hot and sharp, in his unwavering eyes.

  He wanted her.

  But even before she could fully absorb the thought, he was moving away. “We’re going to have to get our lunch to go.”

  Winona nodded distractedly, already doubting herself. “I’ll stay with the animals,” she offered, hearing the whispery sound of her voice.

  “Fine.”

  Feeling breathless, and holding the puppy close to her, Winona watched Joleen and him depart. “Oh,” she said quietly into the pup’s ear, “I do like him, but he scares me. Something’s hurt in there somewhere, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  What a puzzle he was! Kind and standoffish; teasing and withdrawn. Brilliant and moody and dazzling. She frowned, rubbing her hands through the puppy’s fur. If she wanted to survive her summer, she’d better figure him out.

  The crush Joleen had on him was beginning to look mild in comparison with the massive infatuation Winona was developing.

  Chapter Eight

  A tiny scrabbling and whining awakened Winona. She surfaced groggily, wondering what in the world was going on. A small, baby yap yanked her into total awareness and she sat up.

  Percival!

  Tossing off her covers, she grabbed her robe and hurried out of her room. “Percival,” she called quietly. A rosy dawn was just touching the sky, and Winona didn’t want to awaken the others. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll take you out.”

  The puppy was housebroken, but hadn’t yet developed long-term control. He seemed to have a horror of newspapers, and twice each night, she had to get up to take him out. She didn’t mind. They couldn’t leave him outside all night to wander, or coyotes might get him.

  “Come on, Percy. Where are you?”

  Not in the living room or kitchen. Faintly, she heard another small yap, and followed it out the back door. The scene that greeted her made her stop dead, one hand frozen on the tie of her robe, her feet bare in the soft, powdery dirt beyond the porch.