like you a lot more than they like me.” Rachel curled back up beside him. “What about me? What will you miss the most?”
“This,” he said.
“Sex?”
“No,” Dermot replied. “This. Just you and me. All alone, listening to you talk. Knowing I can just pull you into my arms and kiss you or make love to you.”
Rachel rolled over and folded her arms across her chest. “I want you to leave your clothes here with me.”
“You want my clothes?”
She nodded. “They smell like you. I can sleep with them until I get used to you being gone. Kind of like a security blanket.” She reached over and grabbed his pillow and pulled it to her. “I think I’ll take this with me for now.”
“Where are you going?”
“I should go back to my own room. In case the boys get up and need something.”
“Stay,” he said. “We have so little time left. We’ll just get up before they do. I always wake up in time. I promise, they won’t even know you’re gone.”
The breeze freshened and a cool wind blew through the bedroom. Rachel reached down and pulled the old quilt up around them both. “Did you feel that?”
“Yeah.”
“Autumn is coming. We’ll breed the goats and watch them all get round and lazy. And then, starting sometime in February, they’ll all have babies.
Even though it’s the dead of winter, it’s my favorite time of the year.”
As his hands smoothed over her hips, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of need. Would there ever come a time when he didn’t want her? When they’d completely exhausted their desire for each other? The prospect of waking up alone, without her beside him, was almost unimaginable. Casual sex with any other woman would never satisfy him again.
Raking his fingers through his hair, Dermot closed his eyes. He felt her palm move to his face.
It should be easy to rationalize the end of their time together, Dermot mused. He’d walked away from any number of women with whom he’d shared longer relationships. But it wasn’t just the physical uncoupling that he found difficult. From the beginning he’d been attached to Rachel emotionally, and that bond had only strengthened over the past weeks.
Even now, the thought of letting her go caused an ache deep inside of him, an emptiness that couldn’t be filled, not even with another woman. The kind of pleasure that he’d experienced with Rachel had been unique and perfect and it would be impossible to find with anyone else.
Dermot closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He would get over her and he’d learn to live without her. It was just a matter of letting go.
9
RACHEL SAT ON THE END of the bed, watching as Dermot packed the last of his clothes in his leather duffel. He remembered the day he’d stepped off the bus in Mapleton, wondering what he was supposed to do with himself for six weeks. And now, time had flown so quickly, it seemed like just yesterday that he’d met her outside the feed store.
“What time does your bus leave?” she asked.
“4:00 p.m.”
He’d said goodbye to the boys before they left for school and later had a long talk with Eddie about the future and “carpe”ing his diem. And then, he’d walked through the barn and said his farewells to the goats.
He and Rachel had spent the early afternoon in her bed, curled up with each other, talking about the time they’d spent together. It was as if he was about to wander into a deep desert and she was the last drop of water he’d have. She was sweet and satisfying. And like water, she was what kept him alive.
“How long will it take for you to get home?”
“A while,” he said. “The ride out here was two days and four transfers.”
“You had enough for a plane ticket,” she said. “Before you bought that quilt. Why don’t you let me buy you a plane ticket?”
He’d never thought of that option. It would give him two extra days to spend with Rachel. But his grandfather had given all four of them very specific instructions. And two and a half days of nothing but passing scenery would give him time to sort out everything that had happened in the past six weeks.
He sighed softly. He’d thought his grandfather had gone off the deep end with this plan of his. When he’d left Seattle, Dermot couldn’t imagine any other life for himself but the one he had. And now, he was forced to admit that the life he’d shared with Rachel was… perfect. Wonderful. A revelation.
“I have to take the bus,” he said. “It’s part of the deal.”
“Are you excited to get back?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I mean, I’m looking forward to seeing my brothers. I’d love to know what they’ve been up to. But after living here on the farm, my life at home seems a bit dull.”
She giggled. “You think the farm is more exciting than living in Seattle?”
“I’ve loved this life,” he said. “It’s simple and oddly satisfying. I’ve loved working beside you and sitting at the table watching you make dinner and I even love burning the garbage. I feel healthy, like I’ve actually put in a day’s work when I’m done.” He held out his hands. “And I have calluses.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to take his hands in hers.
“For what? They’re like a badge of honor.”
He slipped his hand around her nape, then she pulled him down on the bed with her. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if my grandfather had handed me a different ticket. I would never have met you.”
“Maybe I would have hired one of your brothers?”
“Maybe,” he said. But the thought of Rachel with any other man but him was difficult to tolerate. “No. I don’t think so.”
“How do you know?” she asked. “If they look anything like you, I might have.”
“Actually, they all look a lot like me.” He ran his hand down to her breast, cupping the warm flesh in his palm. “But none of this would have happened.”
“How do you know?”
He bent close, his breath warm on her ear. “Because you were made for me, and me alone,” he whispered.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce kiss. “It’s like we know each other so well. But we only know us. We don’t know anything else. Just what’s gone on between us.”
“This is all that makes any difference,” Dermot said. “And the other stuff, we’ll learn later.”
“Later? When is later? Not tomorrow,
