Charlene Sands (13 page)

He guided her carefully over him and showed her how to move, to take him in entirely, squeezing him with a sheath that turned his insides out.

They came together and broke apart together.

And then they fell asleep.

Together.

Tess woke in a dreamy state. She sensed the time was late and she was alone in the bed. With eyes still closed, she recalled the night of fiery passion with Clint. She’d given herself to him and it had been wonderful. Her body still tingled in private places. Tenderness between her legs brought images of Clint and the way he’d taken her, made love to her, taught her things she’d never dreamed were possible to do.

She felt thoroughly ravaged and yet whole at the same time. She wanted to feel that way again.

She smiled.

“That smile have something to do with last night?”

She snapped her eyes open. Clint sat in a chair facing her, his chest bare, his pants on but unfastened and his legs sprawled out lazily. Had he been watching her sleep?

“Maybe,” she said, sliding the sheet farther up to her shoulders.

Clint leaned forward. “You slept well?”

“Very well.”

She blushed. The conversation seemed odd and too polite for two people who’d done the things they’d done to each other. The memory of how she’d behaved stunned her, but it had felt so right and, strangely, so pure. She wouldn’t change one second of being with Clint last night.

Clint drew in a deep breath. His gaze flowed over her as if recalling their passionate night, as well, then his expression changed and his eyes grew pensive. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees.

He was a beautiful man. He’d been hers last night. But now Tess knew he wanted answers.

“Are you gonna make me ask?” He spoke quietly.

“No.”

“You surprised me. I don’t usually get caught off guard.”

“I, uh…well, I’ve never been with a man before.”

He squinted and looked at the sheet that covered her as if trying to see through it. “That much I know.”

“I didn’t have…we didn’t…well, my relationship with Hoyt wasn’t like that. He was my friend. Funny thing about your father—I was supposed to be taking caring of him, and all the while he’d been taking care of me. Helping me. I did love him, Clint. He was the kindest man I’d ever known.”

“Spare me,” he said, his mouth curving into that scowl that seemed to be ever-present on his face. “Why’d you marry him?”

“I told you—I loved him.”

Clint’s brows rose. He wanted more of an answer.

“He was dying. We both knew it. He was confined to bed. He wanted me with him most of the time. He insisted on marrying me—for my sake. He didn’t want anyone disparaging my reputation, but he said he would have anyway. He really cared for me.”

“Maybe he wanted to show everyone he could still bed a beautiful young woman.”

Tess shook her head. Clint’s bitterness wouldn’t allow him to see the truth. The night she’d spent with him had been glorious, and she’d hoped to continue on today with a fresh start. This morning she’d hoped to find the tender, amorous man she’d been with last night, but the day was proving to be no different than any other day since Clint’s arrival. He held on to his anger even after she told him the truth about her relationship with his father. “No matter what I say about him, you won’t believe me, will you?”

“Doubtful.”

Tess stared at him and sighed. “Then there isn’t much more to talk about.” She grabbed the sheet tighter to her chest. “Will you leave so I can dress? I have to go into town today and I’m already late.”

Clint rose. His scowl deepened. “Are you meeting with Tom Larson again? Is that why you’re rushing off?”

Tess’s mind spun. She blinked. “T-Tom? You know?”

Clint fastened his trousers, eyeing her with suspicion. “I know you met with him last night.”

Tess wrapped the sheet around her and bounded from the bed, glaring at him with her own suspicions. “How do you know that?”

“I followed you.”

Her mouth gaped open. She couldn’t believe it.

“I found your note. You met him in your
secret
place.”

“You
followed
me?” she asked, her voice elevating.

“Damn right I followed you. There’s been so much going on around here, I needed to find out the truth.”

Once the shock wore off, her blood heated and she trembled in anger. “And what did you find out?”

Clint buckled his trousers with a tight pull on the strap. He cast her a narrow-eyed look. “I saw the two of you meeting together behind Laura’s back. That’s
enough,
isn’t it? I sure didn’t expect that…of Tom.”

Her hands fisted into tight balls of energy. She looked at him now, hating him for the implication. He suspected her of dallying with her best friend’s husband. “You’ve called me many things, Clint, but I’ve never been more insulted than at this very moment.”

“Tell me why, Tess. Are you behind the accidents here? Is Tom helping you?”

Fury built quickly, her love for Clint Hayworth dissolving like snow on a sunny day. Her heart shattered at his wicked accusations. “You bastard! I will
not
explain myself to you! That’s all I’ve been doing since you arrived here. You came to my room last night and now I know why! You used me. You turned something special into something calculated and cruel.”

Tess had been duped and deceived by a master. He’d come seeking revenge. He’d come because he didn’t trust her. All softness toward him left her. She knew the true reason for his seduction. He’d taken her body and he’d taken her heart. Well, she surely could take her heart back. And he’d never touch her body again.

He ground his teeth. “Do you deny being involved with Tom Larson?”

Tess refused him an answer. She owed Clint nothing. “Get out!”

He took hold of her arm. She flinched and backed away.

“I didn’t hurt you,” he said, looking at her arm.

“Oh…yes,” she said, holding back tears. “You did.” Not by his gentle grasp but by his coldhearted accusations. He’d suspected her of horrible things and had made love to her only to extract payback. “Now go.”

She strode to the door with as much pride as she could muster, holding her chin up. She opened the door and waited.

He grabbed his boots, his gun belt and the rest of his clothes and left, slamming the door behind him.

“I was only a little bit in love with you,” she whispered, trying to convince herself that it was true.

And, sadly, not succeeding.

C
lint exited Tess’s bedroom, jealousy knotting in the pit of his stomach. She’d been a virgin, offering Clint something she’d waited twenty-one years to give. So what the hell had she been doing in a secret meeting with Tom Larson? All he’d wanted was for her to deny his accusations and come clean. He’d wanted her to say the words. He’d wanted to hear her explanation.

Instead she’d gotten her feathers in a ruffle.

He turned on the landing, with clothes in hand, and locked gazes with Greta as she glanced up from the base of the stairs with knowing eyes. A witness to his state of undress, the corner of her mouth quirked up before she continued down the hallway.

Clint dressed with haste and headed downstairs. It was late and all the other hands were already busy at work. In no time he had eaten breakfast, saddled up and mounted Midnight.

He rode fence, checking the barbed wires, righting posts and clearing his head. The sun beat down mercilessly, his hatband soaking up his sweat already, and he hadn’t been outside for more than an hour this morning.

The land was dry, the breeze in short supply. He had stopped to sip from his canteen when Randy raced up, bouncing off his saddle.

“Mr. Hayworth,” he said, breathing rapidly. “I found ten yards of fence down. I’m sure cattle are missing. Don’t quite know how many yet. Some of the crew sent me down to tell you. Looks like someone cut the wires.”

Clint handed Randy his canteen. “Take a drink. Catch your breath.” He waited for Randy to drink up, then questioned him further. “Did anyone see anything?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. The boys were all surprised. They’d come up this way yesterday looking for a new mama and her calf and they didn’t see any fence broke down.”

“How long have they been out here?”

“They’ve been working since sunup. Came out right after the breakfast call.”

“Okay,” Clint sighed. “Show me where exactly. I’d better check it out.”

“The boys are sure it happened late last night.”

“I’m thinking they’re right,” he said, setting his hat lower on his head as he rode farther into Hayworth land, kicking up dust, assured now that Tess hadn’t had anything to do with this.

She’d been with him all night.

The memory wouldn’t soon leave him.

But more than that, gut instincts he trusted told him there was someone else behind these occurrences at the Double H. And he wouldn’t rest until he found out who was guilty and why they were doing this.

Tess rocked little Abby on her lap gently while she held Laura’s hand. They sat together on Laura’s parlor sofa, her dear friend teary-eyed. Tess couldn’t remember seeing Laura without a smile on her face or her eyes beaming. Laura had always been a comfort. She could always rely on her friend for her sensible mind. She’d admitted to herself Laura’s sullen look and attitude disconcerted her.

“I don’t know what’s come over me, Tess. I love Abby. And poor Tom, I’m sure he’s about to wring my neck. I’ve been so moody and out of sorts.”

“Tom’s a good man, Laura. He loves you. I’m sure he only wants you to be happy.”

“I should be happy! I have a baby. I have a caring husband. I…I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Tess sat back and explained about the woman she’d known who had gone through the same thing. She described her neighbor’s feelings of desolation and depression, and Laura nodded in full agreement.

“That’s how I feel, too. At times I think I don’t deserve any of the good things I have.”

“Well, I think you deserve everything wonderful, Laura.” She set little Abby onto her cradle bed and then reached into her carrying bag and lifted out the pink scallop-edged baby blanket she’d been working on. “If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t have stayed up all hours of the night knitting this.”

She handed the blanket to Laura.

“Oh, it’s so delicate, just like Abby.” Tears dripped from Laura’s eyes. “You’re such a dear friend. And this is beautiful,” she said, staring at the blanket with appreciation. “And a good deal of work.”

She smiled. “A labor of love.”

Laura set the blanket down. “Thank you. For the blanket and for coming to visit me. The doctor says there’s nothing wrong with me that he can see.”

“I think it’s something you have to work through.”

“I’m trying.”

Tess hugged her. Laura was the closest she’d ever come to having a sister. “I know you are.”

“Poor Tom,” she said again.

“He loves you, Laura. He’ll be patient. I’m sure these feelings will pass soon.”

“Do you really think so?”

Tess nodded. “I do. Maybe instead of resting all day, you should get out of the house. Why don’t we take Abby outside for a stroll?”

“It’s warm out.”

“We’ll find shade. Come on. Abby will like it, but I think you’ll like it, too.”

Laura wiped her tear-stained face. “I think I
would
like it,” she said, bolstering up. “Yes, let’s take Abby for a stroll.”

Tess spent the rest of the morning with Laura and Abby and was gladdened to see Laura smile more and hold her baby in her arms. She left their house after a light lunch and then pointed the buggy toward home.

When she entered the house she nearly bumped into Greta on the threshold. Speaking rapidly in German, she fretted, wringing her hands with a stark look in her eyes.

“Greta, what is it?”

Greta continued speaking in her native tongue.

Tess took hold of her hands and stilled them, peering into the cook’s eyes. “I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.”

Greta caught herself. She took a breath and began speaking more calmly, her English heavily accented. “Pearl Cowper is here. She is hurt. She
wouldt
not rest. She came to see you.”

Tess’s heart raced with dread. Memories flashed of her childhood. Awful sensations washed over her, recalling witnessing her brother’s beaten body after one of her father’s tirades. “Where is she?”

Greta gestured toward the kitchen. “She
wouldt
not let me send for the doctor.”

“The doctor? How bad is she?” Tess asked, truly alarmed now, rushing toward the kitchen. When she stepped inside, she gasped. “Oh, Pearl.”

The woman sat in the kitchen, her arms braced against the table, holding a wet cloth to her swollen face. Dark purple splotches appeared on her cheeks. She looked weary and old and frightened.

“She is dizzy,” Greta said.

“I couldn’t let Ralph hit me again.” She spoke bravely, but her body trembled.

“We’ve got to get you into bed.”

“No, ma’am. I’ll be fine. This ain’t the worst I’ve had.”

Tess bit her lower lip. Pearl’s voice sounded weak.

“It’s just that this time I hit him back. With a hoe at the back of his head. Then I ran. I didn’t know where to go, so I came here.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“He’s bound to be madder than a wild dog.”

“Would he come here?” Tess asked.

“Lordy, no. Don’t think so, being as he works for you and all. But I might have mentioned your name as I was swinging that hoe.”

Oh, God. “Might?”

“Sure enough did,” she said, cringing with pain when she nodded her head.

Tess closed her eyes. Part of her wanted to rejoice. Pearl wouldn’t stand for his mistreatment anymore. She’d stood up for herself. But she couldn’t send her back home to him. She knew what kind of greeting she would get upon her return. Pearl was injured and dizzy. Tess saw her struggle to keep from keeling over while trying to be brave.

“You need to rest. Greta will set you up in a room. You’ll stay with us today and get your strength back.”

“Don’t matter if I do. Once I get back, Ralph’s gonna take that hoe to me more times than I can count on my fingers and my toes.”

“Greta, help me get Mrs. Cowper to a bedroom.” Tess worked with Greta to lift the beaten woman up. “I don’t want you to worry about Ralph today. You’ll be my guest for as long as it takes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hayworth,” Pearl said, her body so weak that it took both of them to get her up the stairs and into a bed.

Tess watched Greta fuss over Pearl, tucking her in and making her comfortable. Her mind made up, Tess knew there was only one thing to do—and she’d do it today. There was no time to waste.

Ralph and Pearl Cowper lived on a small parcel of land several miles from town, in a small wooden house in obvious need of repair. Boards covered up broken-out windows, and the knotty planks holding a narrow porch together had caved in, leaving gaps where one could catch a toe if not careful. Vegetables grew in a large garden in rows neatly tended, and beyond that, peach and plum trees were showing the last signs of bearing fruit for the season. Clothes hung motionless on a line behind the house, drying easily in the overbearing heat.

Tess pulled the brake on the buggy and stepped down. She looked around for Ralph Cowper. When she didn’t find him near the barn or in the yard, she walked over a gaping hole on a plank board leading to the house and knocked. “Mr. Cowper?”

No answer.

“Mr. Cowper, it’s Tess Hayworth. I’d like to speak with you.” She knocked again, harder. “Mr. Cowper, are you in there?”

Her next thought was that Pearl might have whacked him too hard upside the head. He could be severely injured. Or dead. That would solve Pearl’s problem, wouldn’t it? If he were dead, Pearl could live a life free of worry and fear.

Tess shouldn’t be thinking this way. She shouldn’t wish a person dead. Having seen Pearl, though, and known of her abuse from her confessions, Tess had no sympathy in her heart for the man. In her estimation, a man who struck a woman wasn’t a man at all.

She had her hand on the handle, ready to push her way through, but it was jerked free when the door opened abruptly.

“What?”

She faced a dreary-looking man with deeply etched wrinkles on his face, the skin above his eyelids hanging over his eyes. He wore an undergarment over his staunch belly that was worn and discolored. She’d never met Ralph Cowper before. He worked at Hayworth Freight and was in charge of loading, unloading and taking inventory.

Holding a bloody cloth to the back of his head, he glowered at her, a look she believed was forever on his face. She wouldn’t allow that glower to divert her intentions. “I’m Tess Hayworth.”

“I know who you are.”

“I’d like to speak with you.”

He scratched his chin nervously. Tess knew she had an advantage over him. If she were anyone else, he’d be shooing her off his property. But Hayworth Freight employed him. And she was a Hayworth.

He opened the door wider and walked inside.

Tess followed him in. Immediately she saw Pearl’s touches around a charmless room—a lace pillow here and a chipped flower vase there, faded curtains that had once been bright with color. Tess felt another pang of sympathy for the woman who’d tried to make this house a home.

“Say what’s on your mind,” he said, sitting in a chair. “I’ve got me one hell of a headache.”

“I know.”

He shot his eyes up. “You’ve been planting all those notions in my wife’s head with them fancy women’s meetings?”

“I don’t have to. She knows you’re not treating her right. Pearl’s a strong woman. She’d have to be to put up with your cruelty all these years.”

He dabbed at his head and grimaced. “You come here to insult me?”

He repulsed her. She reminded herself that she was doing this for Pearl. “I came here to speak with you. You have to stop beating your wife. No woman deserves that treatment.”

“Did she run to you?” His eyes beaded with building fury. He wasn’t listening to her. He wouldn’t heed her cautions. Instead he wanted to find out where Pearl was.

“I won’t say where Pearl is right now. What I want is your promise not to strike her again. Not to make her life miserable. She’s a good woman.”

He rose from his seat. “She’s making
my
life miserable. She’s forever doing things to rile me. I won’t promise nothing. That woman is so damn
stupid.
She’s—”

“She’s not stupid!” Tess screamed. “She’s not stupid! Do you hear me?” Then she calmed down, realizing that she defended Pearl for all those times no one had come to her defense. Tess never had the courage to talk back to her father and tell him
she
wasn’t stupid.

“You got no right coming here, telling me how to treat my woman. It don’t matter that you’re the high and mighty widow Hayworth! You got no right, you hear me!”

“I’m trying to help you both. Maybe if you and Pearl attended church on Sundays—”

“Church? Ain’t no one forcing me to go to church on Sundays. I had my fill when I was a boy. No, ma’am. You gonna fire me ’cause I don’t go to church?”

“Listen, Mr. Cowper. I came here to speak rationally with you!” Her voice rose to an uneven pitch, sounding even to her ears most irrational. “I came here to help. You can’t beat on Pearl anymore.”