She followed his gaze, finally really looking at the network of pathways he'd built for her. Her eyes filled with tears again, and her mouth started to tremble. "Oh, Ryan ... I can't believe you did all this for me."

"Only for you, and everyone knows it. Turn me down, and I'll be a joke. The hired hands will be snickering behind my back for twenty years. Are you really gonna do that to me?" She shook her head, her gaze shimmering as she looked out over the lake. "There are walkways going everywhere! I could go and go and go."

"Anywhere you want, honey. Just, please, don't go away."

She fixed him with worried blue eyes again and gnawed on her bottom lip. "I'm scared"

"Of what?"

"That someday not having your own babies will bother you. That you'll watch television sex and realize how boring I am and how much you're missing." Television sex? He usually changed the channel. Ryan looked at her sweet face and knew he could study it for a hundred years and never get bored. "You know that lady on the fabric softener commercial?" she asked in a squeaky voice. "The one that rolls over and bounces out of bed with a big smile and puts on her jogging outfit to go running?" Ryan had absolutely no idea which commercial she was talking about, or how that had anything to do with anything. "Yeah." "Well, I can't roll over. I'm stuck the way I land. I have to pick up one leg and flop it, then the other leg and flop it. It's more trouble than it's worth." He grinned. "In bed with me, rolling over will be a cinch. I'll just tuck you up against me, and we'll roll over together." She wrinkled her nose. " I don't bounce out of bed, either. It's a big, major hassle every morning, and once I'm up, I'll never jog anywhere." "Sweetheart, what's the point you're trying to make? If bouncing and jogging were real high on my list, would I be standing here?" "I'm just afraid, Ryan. Someday you'll watch a commercial like that, and you'll feel like I've cheated you and hate me for ruining your life."

Ryan walked slowly back to the van. "Never. I swear it, honey. That'll never happen."

He opened the door of the van then and bent to unfasten the restraints on her chair to push her back from the steering wheel so he could lift her into his arms. "What are you doing?" she cried. "I'm making up your mind for you," he said as he swung her up against his chest. She clutched his neck and gave a startled laugh. "I can make up my own mind, thank you very much." "Nope. I've got it straight from Sly. 'Never stand around, waitin' for a woman to make up her mind, son. Not unless you're aimin' to put down tap roots.'"

"And what have you decided for me?"

"That you're staying," he whispered. "You're going to marry me, Bethany Ann Coulter. I'm not giving you any outs." He bent his head to kiss her then, just as he'd yearned to do and dreamed of doing since that first night in her entry-way.

He wasn't disappointed. Her mouth was every bit as sweet as he remembered. After her first shy withdrawal, she parted her lips and surrendered that sweetness to him, and just as before, he felt the jolt clear to his boot heels. Holy hell, was all he could think. No matter how the sex went, it wouldn't matter. He could live on her kisses alone ...

Chapter Fourteen.

Ryan carried Bethany halfway to the house before he came to a stop. Maybe some men could ignore the shrieks of that poor, damned horse, but he wasn't one of them. He glanced down and saw Bethany gazing over his shoulder at the stable. U-turn, "I think you have some hellos you need to say." Every step of the way to that horse stall, Ryan told himself there were some things more important than sex, and saying hello to a long-lost love had to be one of them. Wink had been just that to Bethany, one of the great loves of her life. I would have slept with my horse if Daddy hadn't put his foot down, she'd told him that first night. Ryan had lost a big chunk of his heart to her then-seeing the love shining in her eyes, sensing her sadness because an intrinsic part of who she was had been stolen from her. This was important-a reunion after eight years of separation. He could make love to Bethany for the rest of their lives, but this special moment would pass, never to be reclaimed, not for Bethany or for Wink. Ryan had spent thirty-six thousand dollars so it could happen. He wanted both woman and horse to enjoy it. How else would he get his money's worth? As they approached the stall, Wink started grunting again. Ryan had never heard a horse carry on so. "Listen to that. That's as close to talking as I've ever heard." When he reached the stall, he thought the mare might climb over the top to reach her mistress. Bethany threw both arms around the horse's neck, Wink swung her head, and the next thing Ryan knew, he was playing catch-as-catch-can to keep hold of his girl. "Wink!" Bethany cried. "Oh, Wink!"

Clasping her waist to hold her back from the gate so her legs wouldn't be scraped or bruised, Ryan cried, "Bethany, for God's sake, turn loose!"

That wasn't happening. She'd locked onto the mare so tightly, it would have taken a pry bar to break her hold. It got really messy after that, the mare grunting and whickering, Bethany sobbing and raining kisses on Wink's nose. Ryan made a mental note to dunk Bethany in a trough and give her a good scrub before he locked lips with her again.

When the wettest part of the reunion had passed, he gently put Bethany over his shoulder, which made her screech, caught her behind the knees, and unlatched the gate. After carrying her inside, he carefully lowered her onto the fresh mound of hay in one corner of the stall.

"There," he said with a laugh. "Now you two can make happy for as long as you want without me being caught in the middle." Wink walked over, grunting and making shrill little sounds of greeting. The mare snuffled Bethany from head to toe. "Oh, Wink. My pretty lady! You're so beautiful." Bethany turned sparkling, red-rimmed eyes on Ryan. "Isn't she gorgeous, Ryan?" She had cried so much, she sounded as if she had a clip on her nose.

Ryan had already looked the horse over good. He raised one of the finest lines of quarter horses in the state and had seen nicer mares. "She's the most beautiful little mare I've ever clapped eyes on." He stepped close to run a hand over Wink's rump, then gave her a pat. "I can see why she was a champion."

"There, you see, Wink? Ryan's an expert, and even he says you're the best." Bethany kissed the horse's muzzle again. To Ryan's horror, Wink rolled her lip back and wiggled it all over Bethany's face. "Kiss, kiss!" Bethany cried, giggling and making smacking noises. "I taught her to do this," she informed Ryan proudly. "She still remembers!"

Ryan sat down beside her. "All I gotta say is, you're washing your face, brushing your teeth, and gargling before I kiss you again."

Bethany rolled her eyes. "Wink doesn't have germs. Don't be such a priss." She grabbed Wink's halter strap and pushed the mare's head toward him. "Say, 'kiss, kiss.' She'll do it for anyone."

Ryan hiked up his arm to avoid the wiggling horse lip coming toward his face. "No, thanks. I draw the line at kissing a horse."

"It's a special trick," Bethany said, looking crushed.

It was special, all right. Ryan sighed, lowered his arm, and let the mare wiggle her lip all over his face. It wasn't quite as bad as he expected, but it wasn't one of his favorite experiences, either. What a man wouldn't do for love.

An hour later, Ryan found himself eating steak sandwiches for supper in a horse stall. Wink's entree was sliced apples, which Bethany fed her, piece by piece, as she ate her sandwich. Somehow, this wasn't quite what Ryan had envisioned as a romantic evening.

"This is the most wonderful night of my life," Bethany said with a glowing smile when she'd finished eating. She reached up to stroke her mare's neck. "I never thought I'd see her again, Ryan. Thank you so much."

"You can thank me by riding her again."

Bethany paled. "I'm a little scared."

"Your saddle won't come until next week. That'll give the two of you plenty of time to get reacquainted and bond again, If I were you, I'd probably feel a little shaky about riding her again myself." "Oh, it isn't that." Bethany rested her cheek against the mare's velvety nose. "What happened wasn't Wink's fault. I've always known that, and I'd trust her with my life. If ever I get on another horse, it has to be her. It would break her heart if I rode someone else." Ryan had to bite back a smile. She talked about Wink as if the horse were human. "Even though you were almost killed the last time you rode her?" "Even though," she said with absolute certainty. "When I say it wasn't Wink's fault, I really mean it wasn't. Not at all." Her eyes got a distant look in them as she remembered the accident that had left her paralyzed. "She was racing her heart out for me, giving me everything she had to give. It wasn't her fault she stepped in a hole and fell. Afterward, I can't count the people who came by to see me at the hospital just to tell me I shouldn't blame Wink for what happened. They said that when she realized she couldn't stop, she shifted her weight to one side, trying her best not to fall on me. It wasn't her fault that the barrel tipped and threw me directly in her path." Ryan watched her trail her fingertips along the horse's jaw, her touch so light and loving that she might have been caressing a child. "I don't suppose you can ask for more than that from anyone," he said softly, "not horse or person. Traveling at that kind of speed and stepping in a hole, she could have busted a leg. A lot of horses wouldn't have been watching out for their riders at a time like that."

"No." She smiled mistily. "And it would have been impossible for any horse to stop." She gave the mare another pat. "I know she tried her very best not to fall on me, and that's all I need to know. Why is it that people always want to place blame? Sometimes bad things just happen. The fairground maintenance crew raked the entire arena that morning and packed it with a roller. There shouldn't have been any holes. They're extremely careful about that because some very valuable horses compete in barrel racing events, and they don't want to be liable." She shrugged. "A ground squirrel tunneled up after the area was prepped. I won't say it was an act of God because I can't believe He wanted me to be paralyzed or that He orchestrated the accident, but I will say it was an act of nature-an unforeseeable one that couldn't be blamed on anyone." She wrinkled her nose. "Unless, of course, I want to blame the ground squirrel."

Ryan dusted some hay off his jeans. "Wanna go hunting? We've got ground squirrels aplenty around here that you can use for target practice." She laughed and shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but I worked through my anger years ago. I really don't think that poor little rodent tunneled a hole because he was out to get Bethany Ann Coulter."

Ryan grinned. "A very rational way to look at it. Not very satisfying, but rational."

"Looking at it rationally was the only way I stayed sane. Did you know that anger is the easiest emotion for human beings to feel, and when we lose our faculties, it's the last emotion to go? That's why people with dementia so frequently grow violent, because in the final stages, ail they have left are unreasoning feelings of rage." Her smile faded, and she looked deeply into his eyes. "I was there once, feel ing nothing but rage. I never want to feel that way again. Bitterness and anger affect every part of your life.

I just want to be happy and make the most of things. We have to accept and move on. Feeling sorry for ourselves and casting blame only destroys what's left."

"I definitely want you to enjoy life," he agreed.

"For me, that means if I go riding again, it has to be on Wink. Anything less would be a cop-out.

Riding her may bring back bad memories and frighten me, but it's something I'll have to do. Choosing to ride another horse would be a betrayal. I can't do that to her. I won't."

"I understand," he said huskily, and he honestly did understand, perhaps better than she realized.

Bethany was no coward, and she didn't have it in her to take the easy way out, not when she thought it might hurt the horse that she loved so much. "I only have one question. Feeling the way you do about Wink-trusting her as you do-why are you so afraid to ride again?"

"Because I know I won't be able to use my legs and that it will never be the same. A part of me is afraid that it will be a huge disappointment-that maybe it would be better to dream about riding and tell myself how great it might be than to actually try and find out it isn't all great and never will be again.

Does that make any sense?"

"It makes perfect sense. In dreams, there are no limitations. Reality seldom measures up to that. But, Bethany, look at the flip side. What if the reality turns out to be different from before, but just as wonderful in its own way? If you never dare to try, you'll be missing out on that."

"I know." She drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Her eyes darkened with shadows as she met his gaze again. "I'm also really afraid that I may fall. Imagine being in the saddle and not being able to grip with your knees. The very thought ties my stomach in knots."

"You won't fall, honey. You'll be strapped on." Ryan reached out to brush a tendril of dark hair from her face. "We'll take it slow. The first few times, I'll lead you around the corral. You'll get used to it and soon love riding again."

"Oh, I hope so ..."

"It'll happen."

Ryan meant to see that it did.

Bethany.

When Ryan suggested that they had spent enough time with Wink and should adjourn to the house, her cheeks turned as pretty a pink as June clover blossoms. En route to the van to collect her wheelchair, Ryan chuckled to himself over her shyness. Then he frowned, the realization suddenly striking him that he hadn't had much experience with virgins-as in none, period. Even in college, he'd sought out girls who knew the score. His father would have skinned him and hung his hide out to dry, otherwise.

Ryan sighed as he returned to the stable. Once in front of Wink's stall, he positioned the wheelchair and set the brake, then he stepped in to collect Bethany. She had straw in her hair, and as he got her settled in her chair, the hem of her ruffled blue skirt flipped up, revealing a rent in her hose. The jagged edges of the tear showcased a scrape on her knee.

Ryan hunkered down to examine the abrasion. She immediately started fussing with her skirt, tugging and tucking the folds around and between her legs. He glanced up. Big, wary blue eyes stared back at him. Uh-oh. He tried a harmless-looking grin. He never had been very talented at looking harmless.

"What?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

Like hell. Ryan heaved an inward sigh, thinking that this was exactly why the traditional wedding night had been the butt of so many jokes. It was sort of like going to the dentist. If you thought about it too much beforehand, you got the jitters long before you sat in the chair.

"You feeling a little nervous?"

She shook her head no and then said, "Yes. A little."

Satisfied that the scrape on her leg was nothing to fret over, Ryan framed her face between his hands.

Her cheekbones felt fragile under the pads of his thumbs-itty-bitty compared to his own. "You wanna just wait?"

"For what?"

His brain went blank. Good question. Except for marrying her, which he planned to do before the ink on the marriage license could dry, there was no real reason to wait. Unless, of course, he counted the worried look in her eyes. Which he did.

She curled her fine-boned hands over his wrists. "Oh, Ryan, I'm not nervous for the reason you're thinking. Not about making love with you. I've been-" She broke off, and the blush on her cheeks deepened. "I've thought about that part a lot, and I'm looking forward to it. It's just-" "It's just what?"

he pressed.

She smoothed a hand over the buttons of her blouse. "I, um-just sort of, you know, feel self- conscious. You're so ..." Her gaze flitted over him. "You're so perfect. Handsome and superbly fit-the kind of man most women can only dream about."

Ryan's throat went tight. "Thank you. I think that's stretching it a bit, but it's a very nice compliment, and I'm flattered that you feel that way." He searched her expression. "Does that pose somekindofproblem?"

"No! Not a problem, exactly. It's just that I'm not." He mentally circled that pronouncement, not entirely sure what she meant. "You're not what?"

"Perfect," shereplied,thewordbarelymorethanawhisper. "Oh, honey." Ryan realized then that he'd been trying so hard to play the role of best friend convincingly that he'd failed to let her know how very much he desired her physically. He'd never even allowed his gaze to trail over her figure. Not when she might catch him at it, at any rate. "If you were any more beautiful, Miss Coulter, I'd have a critical case of pneumonia by now." She looked bewildered. "Pneumonia?" He chuckled. "From taking ice-cold showers." She gave a startled laughandsaid,"Oh. Pneumonia. Of course." A hopeful, slightly incredulous expression came into her beautifuleyes."Didyoureallytakecoldshowers?"SeeingherincredulitymadeRyan'shearthurtforher.

To him, it seemed such a crime that someone so lovely could reach the age of twenty-six without ever beingtoldhowdesirableshewas.Thatwasastateofaffairshemeanttore-solve in damned short order. "Dozens of cold showers," he assured her firmly. "I've wanted to make love to you ever since I first saw you. Every single time I was around you, I had to come home and stand under thecoldwater until I was numb enough to sleep."

Hegrinned and lowered his gaze to the lush roundness of her small but perfectly shaped breasts. Maybe it was only wishful thinking, but he could have sworn he saw her nipples tighten in response. Encouraged by that, he took visual measure of her tidy figure from there down, his hands itching to curl over her hips, his body aching to feel her softness pressed firmly against him.

When he returned his gaze to hers, her face was pink clear to her hairline, but there was a purely feminine sparkle in her eyes. He decided then and there that from now on he'd do plenty of ogling and make sure she caught him at it.

"I can't exercise certain parts of my body like other people," she confessed shakily. "In those places my muscles have atrophied, and I'm not well toned."

"Does that mean you're going to feel as soft and wonderful as you look?"

She sighed, conveying by her expression that this was no time for nonsense. "I'm just so afraid I'll disappoint you. That you might not like how I look and that I'll be a big disappointment in other ways as well, and that-"

He interrupted her by dipping his head to kiss her. Oh, God, how he loved her mouth, so soft and willing, yet uncertain and hesitant. He wanted to go on tasting her forever, wanted to spend the rest of his life pleasuring himself with her. He'd take this lady, horse slobber and all.

Forcing himself to end the kiss, he whispered, "Sweetheart, would you stop worrying? I think you're beautiful, and my opinion is the only one that counts. It's going to be all right between us. I have this gut feeling, and my gut feelings are seldom wrong."

"Oh,Ryan,Iprayyou'reright.Ifwe can atleasthavesat- isfying sex, I'll feel so much better about marrying you. If I can't feel anything, I think I'll die."

Wink nudged Ryan's shoulder. He reached up with one hand to rub the mare's neck. "Are you sure that's all you're worried about? You're not afraid I'll hurt you?" Just in case she was embarrassed to admit she felt uneasy on that score, he hastened to add, "This is your first time. That's a very natural concern for a woman to have, you know."

She laughed. "I pray"

"What?"

"I pray it hurts. That'll be good, Ryan. That'll be great"

The very thought made his guts clench. He would have happily hacked off an arm rather than cause her pain. But she was right. He should be praying it would hurt. In this instance, the more discomfort, the more cause to celebrate.

He returned Wink to her stall and battened the gate for the night. Then he pushed Bethany from the stable.

"You want to swing down by the lake?" he asked, thinking he needed to woo her just a bit. "It's beautiful down there at night. The stars twinkle on the water like thousands of diamonds."

"After," she said firmly. "We can go down later."

So much for that tack. When they reached the house, Ryan turned on only a couple of lights and grabbed the remote to flip on the stereo as he went into the kitchen to pour them each some wine. Bethany marveled over the changes in the kitchen, then sat at the opposite side of the counter, her big blue eyes following him nervously.

"Ryan?"

He broke off pouring to meet her gaze. "What?"

"Can we just-" She skittered her fingers down the front of her blouse, dragged in an unsteady breath, and then gulped. "You know-can we just-" She exhaled in a rush. "No big drawn-out thing. Please? I just want to-um-get to the important part. Just this time. I promise. I'm sorry for rushing you, but I need to know."

His heart caught at the shadows of anguish in her eyes. She was about to die of anxiety, and he was diddling around. He set the wine bottle aside, then circled the bar to scoop her up out of the chair.

"You won't have to issue that invitation twice."

As he swung her up against his chest, she wrapped both arms around his neck, pressed her face to the hollow just under his jaw, and whispered, "Tell me again, Ryan. I need to hear you say it one more time." It wasn't necessary for her to clarify the request. He ducked his chin to press his lips to her temple. "I love you, Bethany, and I'll love you the rest of my life with every beat of my heart."

He carried her to the bedroom. When he set her on the edge of the bed, she bent her head so her hair fell forward to veil her face and then started unbuttoning her top with trembling fingers. She looked so forlorn, sitting there, with her pretty little feet turned all funny, one pointed inward, the other bent over at the ankle.

Ryan ran his hands down her calves, knowing she felt nothing when he touched her there, but allowing himself the pleasure anyway. Through the mesh of her hose, her skin felt cool and wonderfully soft, reminding him of how satiny she was. He kissed the scrape on her knee, which earned him a startled look from her, then he gently repositioned her feet.

When he glanced back up, she was struggling with a button. He pushed her hands away and relieved her of the task.

"Do you mind?" he asked. "I usually like to unwrap my own presents."

She flashed him a bewildered look, which he met with a smile.

"You are a gift, Bethany Coulter. The sweetest, most beautiful gift God's ever given me."

Her mouth went all funny, one corner turning down and quivering. "Oh, Ryan. I forgot to tell you one more really awful thing."