Big Sky Rancher (9 page)

All too well, in fact. The memory of her soft curving form pressed against him might very well keep him from slumber tonight.

“Well, hell's bells,” he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his temper constrained. He strode to the door, and threw it open, uncaring now about his nakedness. Four steps took him to the doorway of his own bedroom and he turned the knob, closing the door behind himself, and making his way to where Jennifer lay.

The moon cast her in ivory and she looked up at him, her
face a glowing oval, her eyes huge and wary. “What's wrong, Lucas?”

“Nothing.” He tossed back the sheets and threw himself down beside her. “Everything.” Feeling more than a little foolish, he grinned, laughing silently at his own masculine ineptness. “This is a dandy way of showing you I don't want to sleep alone, isn't it?”

“You don't have to. I didn't leave you in here alone. You left me.”

“And you cried.” He lifted himself up on one arm and faced her, this woman who had him in a quandary.

She didn't bother to deny his charge, only nodded her head, looking up at him as he bent over her. And then she moved, one hand reaching upward to touch his cheek, the other held inert beside her, lest she crush it beneath his chest as he bent lower to kiss her. Her fingers were soft, her hand small and he rued the harsh treatment he'd leveled in her direction over the past weeks.

She seemed to hold no grudge, only smiled at him. “Please don't leave me again, Lucas. This bed is too big for me by myself.”

“Don't expect me to always be a gentleman, Jen. For tonight, I'll behave myself, but I won't make any promises about tomorrow.”

“That's good enough for me.” She slid her fingers into his hair and breathed deeply of his scent, a wonderful, musky, masculine aroma that surrounded her. She wondered why she hesitated at the mating that would come, the act of marriage he would surely perform in this bed, and wished for just a moment that he would ignore her qualms and do as his body dictated.

For she felt the urgent pressure against her thigh, the out
line of his arousal as it made itself known. But if Lucas was intent on being a
gentleman,
as he called it, even if only for this one night, she would not argue. He would give her another day in which to grow accustomed to him, another few hours to learn his ways, to seek his company. It wasn't that much to ask for, and he'd offered without any coaxing on her part.

He seemed to understand her willingness to lie with him, her need for his warmth. For although the night breezes were temperate, she felt bereft without his body next to hers, his long legs behind her, his breathing a silent rhythm against her back.

She turned from him, waiting till he should curl behind her, his arm circling her waist, his hand flat against her belly. She sighed. It was good, this part of marriage, this silent pairing with a husband, a time of peace, a comfort in the night.

And tomorrow she would face her duties, try to forget the urge to go East once more, to all that was familiar and known. It was time to take up her life here with full acceptance of all it entailed. And to that end she would strive to do her best.

 

T
HE MORNING BROUGHT
about Lucas's departure to the mine. “I've been hanging around here too long. Sandy's due for a break. I need to be minding my business a little better,” he said, explaining his actions as he readied himself for the day.

Jennifer sat on the edge of the bed watching as he buttoned his shirt. “Will you be gone all day?”

“Probably. Maybe even overnight. My partner, Sandy, has done his share and more. I need to work pretty steadily for a few days and give him a break. We've come across a good vein, and it isn't even safe for him to work alone, not when he's carrying gold into town by himself.”

“I suppose I wasn't aware of the danger involved,” Jenni
fer mused, frowning as she thought of Lucas being prey to those who might steal his gold, perhaps even harm the man for what could be gained. “I was going to ask if I could go along with you, but I don't suppose that's a good idea.”

He was shaking his head before she completed the words. “Not a chance, lady. I'm not risking your life, taking you out to the mines.”

“You're risking yours.” She bent to pick up the clothing she'd worn yesterday, and deemed it ready for the wash basket. Her valise was almost empty, her undergarments having been stored in the dresser drawer after the last wash day, and she turned to the tall chest to seek out clean clothing.

“It's my mine,” he reminded her, sitting to pull on his stocking and tug his boots over them. “Mining is always a dangerous occupation, and even though most of the men out there are honest, there are always a few willing to risk all for a big strike. And some of them aren't particular where they find it.”

“You mean, out of another man's pack, instead of the ground, don't you?” She sat again on the edge of the bed, stricken suddenly as she thought of Lucas being borne home on a wagon, his life snuffed out by such a thief.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” he said, approaching her, lifting her to her feet and holding her in an embrace that was pleasantly familiar. “I'm going to go grab a bite to eat and I'll be on my way.”

“I'll be dressed in a minute, and eat breakfast with you. Don't go without…”

“Without what? Kissing you goodbye?” He grinned. “Not a chance, sweet. Not a chance. I grab every opportunity, in case you haven't noticed.”

She met his gaze, stunned to see the dark gleam of desire there. “I've noticed.” Her heart beat a little faster as he stood in front of her and looked his fill. She felt the swelling of her breasts, free of constraint beneath her nightgown, knew a rush of heat that pounded through her veins, to center in the depths of her belly. With only a look, he could melt her resistance, and she wondered again why she hesitated to take that final step that would make her his. For surely she was ready for this link to be formed.

“I like the look in your eyes,” he said, his mouth brushing against hers, a tender, gentle blessing, as if he would leave her with a memory of whispering desire.

“My eyes?” What hidden message had he seen there? A softening perhaps? A need she had only just acknowledged even to herself?

“I like just about everything about you.” Grinning, he released her and went to the door, opening it and tossing one more glance her way. “I'll expect you downstairs in five minutes.”

She watched him leave, too stunned by his final remark to move and aware for the first time that he had a decided limp. And then she moved, catching up her clothing and shedding her nightgown, a swift exchange of garments. She gave her hair a quick brushing and left it to hang down her back, a dark mass of curls and waves she was sorely pressed to contain in a braid most days. Unable to separate and plait it, she would ignore the propriety of a proper hairdo and he could just take her as she was.

From the look in Lucas's eye when she walked into the kitchen, he was more than willing to accept her presence, unbound hair and all. In fact, his hand reached for her, tangling in the length that tumbled down her back, and he uttered
words beneath his breath that she could not decipher. And then he was away from her side, leaving her to sit on the far side of the square, wooden table.

“Are you ready to eat?” She nodded at the question and sat as Ida brought coffee to her, then dished up two plates of fried potatoes and eggs.

“This looks good.” The fork felt awkward in her left hand and Jennifer shot a pleading look at Lucas. “Don't forget, you're going to take off my bandage and let my hand air today.” She yearned for a few minutes alone with him and the chance to find out why he limped—whether he'd hurt himself and not told her, or whether the limp was a reminder of an old injury.

“I'll look at your hand and decide,” Lucas said. It seemed he would not give way on that point, and she was silent.

“That's probably a good idea, Jennifer,” Ida said. “But I can take care of it later, Luc. I know you're in a hurry to leave.”

“I'll do it.” His tone left no room for argument and so it was that he finished his meal in short order and moved to Jennifer's side of the table. His box and a roll of bandages torn from an old sheet accompanied him, and she watched as he removed the bandage. Beneath it, her skin looked red, but to her untrained eye it seemed much as it would have been, had she not been blistered to a fare-thee-well by the iron cookstove.

“I think it's doing all right, don't you?” she asked, seeking his gaze, trying to read his response before he spoke.

“For today, we'll leave the bandage off. If you promise to be careful and not use your hand too much. Wiggle your fingers and exercise it off and on. If it gets too sore, Ida will put more salve on it and a fresh bandage.” He waited for her acquiescence, and she nodded.

His smile told her he saw through her ready agreement, and he bent to kiss her, an impulsive move, she was sure. “Don't forget, Jen. You promised.”

“I won't forget. And I'm sure my watchdog won't let me, anyway.”

“I've been called worse,” Mrs. Bronson said. “And you can mark it down in your book, girl. I'll be keeping an eye on you.”

Lucas went to the door. “I'll see the pair of you tonight or maybe tomorrow night. If I don't show up by dark, don't worry.” His gait had improved, she noted, as he walked toward the barn. Probably just a hitch.

 

I
F
I
DON'T SHOW UP
by dark, don't worry.
“Easy for him to say,” Jennifer muttered, watching as twilight turned the brightness of day into a starlit canopy overhead.

Beside her, Ida murmured futile words of comfort. Jennifer was not consoled by them and she spoke her mind out loud.

“How can I miss a man who aggravates me so?”

“He's your husband. We always miss them when they're gone, even though they aggravate us to death when they're hanging around, acting like men.”

Now
those
words seemed more able to fill her need, Jennifer thought, than a trite statement meant to pacify her concern.

“He won't be back tonight.” Jennifer's pronouncement accepted his warning. “But we'll have all day to plan a good supper for him tomorrow.”

“If I didn't know better, I'd think you were batty over the man.” Ida laughed as she spoke.

“I don't want anything to happen to him. I'd be as concerned over anyone who might be in danger.”

“Really.” Not a question, but rather a droll remark meant to make Jennifer smile, and it served its purpose.

Her nod was resolute. “I'm going to bed. Morning will come early. The sun is coming up before the rooster crows these days.”

“Not quite. Blasted bird woke me today when it was still dark.” Ida was a grumbler when it came to her sleep being disturbed, it seemed, and Jennifer wondered for a moment if her shenanigans last night with Lucas had deterred the woman from nodding off.

She smiled. No matter. The result had been to her good, for she'd slept in his arms and had reveled in the comfort he offered. And one day she would know him in a different way, as a wife.

He was being patient, and she knew it was difficult for him. Hard for him to wait. And that was the word, all right, she thought with a soft chuckle.
Hard.
It described Lucas in more ways than one.

“Private joke?” Mrs. Bronson shot her a curious look.

Jennifer smiled and then relented. “Kind of. Yes, I guess you could say that.”

She made her way to bed and hugged Lucas's pillow. It wasn't the man, but it carried his scent, and that was certainly better than nothing.

T
HE MAN
got off the train and sauntered up Main Street, almost as if he owned the town. Jennifer was stunned. There was no other word to explain the sudden stillness that swept over her very spirit. What Kyle Carter was doing here in Thunder Canyon was a question without an answer, so far as she was concerned.

That her former brother-in-law had followed her here seemed to be a stretch of the imagination, for surely he wouldn't toss his money away on a train ticket merely to seek her out. Or would he?

It seemed her answer would not be long in coming, for he caught sight of her, his sharp gaze pinning her where she stood in front of the general store, her arms loaded with her purchases. Ahead of her, the wagon awaited her, Ida having harnessed the horses after Jennifer had assured her she was more than capable of driving the big vehicle into town. Ida was lingering behind in the Emporium, having a good gossip with friends from church, and so Jennifer was alone as she faced the man who had made her life miserable in New York.

“Well, sister dear, it's good to see you,” Kyle said, as if honey coated every word, turning his message into a sickening address. He bent forward, as if he would kiss her cheek,
and Jennifer lifted her bundles higher, placing herself just beyond his reach.

His eyes narrowed at that and he grasped her arms, without a doubt leaving bruises in his wake, so hard was his grip on her. And he then bent lower again. His lips were wet and she flinched as they brushed against her mouth. He smiled, a particularly evil grin, she thought, as if he was pleased with her reaction to his caress.

“I can't say I'm delighted to see you, Kyle,” she managed to blurt, wishing she dared speak the words that welled in her throat. Language such as she'd never allowed to pass her lips begged to be uttered. She had the urge to call him names—harsh, vile descriptions of his character—but the audience of men on the bench behind her would not allow her to vent her anger out loud.

“How can you say such a thing, sister dear?”

“I'm not your sister.” The word were sharp, but he seemed to ignore her message.

“Perhaps not, but you were once. My sister-in-law, at least. The aunt of my child.” And then he paused as if waiting for a reaction to his words.

He received it immediately. “Where is she?”

“If you behave yourself and come with me, you'll find out,” he told her. “If not, you'll never see her again.” His threat was spoken in a casual manner, his voice pitched low enough so as not to carry to their audience.

“I wouldn't walk across the street to spit on your dead body.”

“You don't love me anymore?” he asked sweetly, this time speaking a bit louder.

“I've never
loved
you. Only hated what you did to my sister.”

“That's all in the past. Now there's just you and me.”

His grin was evil, purely evil, she decided, making a mask of his features, seeming to turn him into a caricature of a demon.

“There'll never be a
you and me.
” Her words were clear, and he winced.

“Don't make me angry, my dear.” His warning fell on deaf ears, for Jennifer had had enough of his hateful mouth.

“I'm married, Kyle. I have a husband. You don't interest me in any way. Never have. Never will.” She couldn't have made it any clearer, she thought, but he persisted.

“A husband? A dirty, scruffy miner? Is that supposed to impress me?”

“I have no intention of impressing you, but believe me, if he showed up here right now, you'll be impressed in a big way.”

His laugh was taunting. “I can buy and sell any man in this town. Show me this husband of yours and I'll give him five thousand dollars for your hand.”

“It isn't available. I'm well married, and besides, he doesn't need your money. He has enough of his own.”

“Well married? Well then, you won't mind dishing out a few favors in my direction, will you?” His arms curved around her and only the presence of her packages kept her from his body.

“Drop that garbage, Jennifer, and let me feel your—”

“Don't touch me!” Her shriek was piercing and the men on the bench rose as one—even the gentleman on the end of the seat, the one she sensed was deaf as a post, given his inattention when his cohorts spoke.

“My husband will kill you for this,” she shouted. “Lucas O'Reilly is twice the man you are. No, three times. More than that. I love him and I wouldn't look at another man, no matter what he offered.”

The men watching broke into applause and gales of laugh
ter. “That's tellin' him, missy,” one called, and the others agreed.

Kyle backed off, clearly outnumbered, especially when Ida came out the door of the Emporium and approached. “Is this fella bothering you, Jennifer?”

She could only nod and Mrs. Bronson looked around, as if seeking a handy weapon. Snatching at a cane held by one of the watching men, she lifted it and then lowered it in a crushing blow, aiming obviously for Kyle's head, and only missing because he ducked. Instead the cane slashed across his chest and he shouted out his anger.

“Damn fool woman. You trying to kill me?”

“Sounds like a fine idea to me,” the storekeeper said, opening his door and stepping out to the sidewalk.

“This is none of your business,” Kyle told him. “Mind your manners, mister.”

“Any time a man attacks a woman, I make it a point to call it my business.” The storekeeper's jaw stuck out as he stepped closer to Kyle. “Now get out of here. Mrs. O'Reilly told you flat-out she's not interested in anything you have to say, and if you're a smart man you'll leave town before her husband finds out you've been molesting her.”

Ida grasped Jennifer's arm and hustled her to the wagon, putting the bundles in the back. “I'll go in and get the rest. You just stay here.” Her words were spoken in an undertone, but firmly and Jennifer nodded, only too happy to let the woman take charge.

“I'll get your things.” The storekeeper held the door for Ida as Kyle moved off down the sidewalk, bent over as if his chest was giving him discomfort. Then, going ahead of Ida, the clerk retrieved her additional box of supplies. In short
order, he'd put them in the back of the wagon and waved farewell to the two women.

Jennifer was still silent, and Ida scrutinized her. “You all right, girl? Did that fella hurt you any?”

“No, I'm all right.
That fella
is my dead sister's husband. A bas—” Jennifer bit her lip, holding the curse back, lest she offend her companion.

“Go ahead and say it. There's two kinds of bastards, girl, and I suspect he's the very worst sort. The other kind can't help their beginnings, but
that
one—” She waved her hand back at the stores behind them, “I'll warrant he's one to really show his colors, ain't he? I'd have called him even worse than that.”

“I hope Lucas is coming home tonight.” It was a statement of longing such as she'd never felt, and Jennifer hugged herself, a chill passing down her spine even as the hot summer sun beat down on her head.

“He'll be back as soon as he can. I suspect he's up there hiring someone to work for him. He don't want to leave you alone, girl. I figured that out already.”

“I really shot off my mouth, didn't I?” Jennifer recalled her words, all too aware of the statements she'd made in front of what seemed to be half the town, at least the male half.

Lucas O'Reilly is twice the man you are…. I love him and I wouldn't look at another man no matter what he offered.
Her face burned as she recalled her shouted words, and she spread her fingers wide over her cheeks, feeling hot tears stream down to fall in her lap.

“You only said what was true.” Ida stated the words as a fact, then she turned to smile at Jennifer. “Don't be bawlin' now, girl. Saying you love a man is just fine in my book, es
pecially when that man is your husband. And if he isn't already, Lucas O'Reilly will be soon.”

“Of course he's my husband. I just told half the town, didn't I?” Wiping her tears, Jennifer swallowed, her hands groping in her pocket for a handkerchief. A large, white square met her fingertips and she tugged it forth so that she could mop her eyes.

“Yeah, you did.” Ida smiled, her hands firm on the reins.

“Do you want me to do that?” Jennifer waved at the horses, willing to handle them herself.

“Nah. I've been driving a horse and wagon for more years than I can count. How'd you think I got so good at putting the harness on?”

“I don't know, but I watched you, you know. Next time, I'll try it myself.”

“After your hand heals, and that's a fact. I think you made it sore, handling these reins and then carrying all those bundles out of the store. Lucas will have a fit if you've damaged it.”

“Lucas doesn't need to know everything that goes on, does he?”

“He'll look at you, first thing when he gets home.”

It was a prediction that bore fruit at sundown, when the familiar figure rode up on his dark gelding. He dismounted and she thought his limp was more pronounced, as if he were weary from riding.

“Jennifer.” His call blared into the kitchen through the open door. “Come out here, will you?”

She cast one long look at Ida, who was stirring a pan of gravy and stepped out onto the porch. The man looked fit to be tied, she thought and perhaps with good reason. He was tired, his leg was probably hurting and something had obviously upset him.

“I had a visitor from town when I was cleaning up to come home,” he said harshly. “I heard that some dude from back East was bothering you right out in front of the general store.”

“Who told you that?” She tilted her chin, unwilling to seem cowed by him, just as she'd defied the man who'd at tacked her in front of the townsfolk.

“Never mind, honey. I want to know who he was and what he meant by grabbing you and demanding that you go with him.”

“It was Kyle, the man who was married to my sister. He wouldn't believe I was married.”

Lucas smiled wolfishly. “Yeah, I heard. And I also heard what you told him.”

“Did you now?” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Then you also know that Ida hit him with a cane and sent him off.”

“She's pretty protective of her lone chick, isn't she?” His smile turned to a grin as he looked past Jennifer to where the widow stood in the doorway. “Thank you, ma'am,” he said, his tone respectful, his words sounding most sincere.

“Not a problem. You left her with me, and I took care of her, just like I would have if she'd been my own daughter.”

“I know that. And I appreciate it, more than you can—”

“That's enough, Lucas. I just did my job,” Ida said, cutting his words of thanks short as she opened the screen door and motioned them both inside.

“Now, the pair of you come eat supper. This girl has cooked for three hours to make you a good meal, Luc, and you'd better appreciate it.”

“I intend to, as soon as I put my horse in the barn. I'll be in in a few minutes. And then I expect to hear the whole story.”

 

S
HE DIDN'T LOOK
any the worse for wear, he decided, feeling older than his years, limping as his bad leg cramped beneath him. He recalled Jennifer's erect stance, her quick replies. But if that man had left a mark on her, if she wore bruises, he'd hightail it into town and thrash him within an inch of his life.

Your wife didn't leave no doubt in anybody's mind, Luc,
his informant had said.
She told the whole bunch of us that she loves you.
Harv Painter's face was red as he'd repeated the words Jennifer had said, and Lucas repeated them over again now as he unsaddled his horse and led the gelding into the barn.

She told the whole bunch of us that she loves you.
He'd have given ten years of his life to hear her say it himself, he thought. Still would. But only if she meant it. If she'd said it to scare off the man named Kyle, if she had only used the man she'd married as a shield, that would be all right, too. He'd be dadblamed if he wouldn't hold her to it, though. She'd made a statement and she'd better back it up with actions.

Supper was tasty, but Jennifer ate little. Her sleeves were long, buttoned primly at her wrists, and he wondered for a moment why she'd chosen to wear so warm a dress this afternoon. For he knew she'd taken a bath and donned clean clothing before his arrival. The tub was still upside-down on the porch, two towels and a washcloth hanging from the line, and the woman's face was shiny, her hair lustrous and loose down her back.

He'd bet a bundle that she smelled fresh, like the apple-blossom-scented soap she used, and again he wondered at the dress she'd chosen to wear.

 

H
E FOUND OUT AT BEDTIME
what was hidden beneath her sleeves. “Take off your gown,” he said, standing in front of
her like an avenging angel. Although he didn't feel angelic right now, he knew his stance was that of a man ready to do battle.

“No. You know I'm not going to stand here in front of you and drop this gown on the floor. You're out of your mind, Lucas.”

“Pretty sassy for a little girl, ain't you?” His grammar left a lot to be desired, but he had a need to stun her with actions and words.

“I'm not little, and I've been called worse than sassy in my life,” she told him.

“Well, close your mouth and unbutton that nightgown.” He left her no out, waiting till the count of five before he lifted his hands to her bodice, setting the first two buttons free before she could move.

“Don't do that.” She jerked from his grasp and he turned her, his hands gentle but firm, as if he would not leave his mark on her. For indeed, he had no intention of hurting her. He feared she'd already felt pain at a man's hand today, and he would not add to it.