Chasing Clovers (20 page)

He
shook his head. She sure did make things interesting.

Life with Becky was far from boring, he blew out a breath, but life so far with Livy had been one problem after the next. She challenged him, riled him, but also made
him feel things he never felt when he had been married.

He couldn
't deny that he'd lusted for her. She was beautiful. And he knew he could have her if he wanted, and almost had. Thinking back to this morning when Clive had interrupted them―at the time he'd been madder than hell at his foreman for opening the kitchen door when he had―now he was grateful that things hadn't gone any further. He couldn't offer Livy what she deserved. He wasn't free to love her. His heart belonged to Becky. Besides, the hurt that comes from losing someone you love was something he wasn't willing to go through again.

He plucked a blade of grass and placed it in his mouth. Chewing on the green string, he let his mind wander to the trouble on the T-Bar. He knew having Livy on the ranch without a ring on her finger was sure to stir up trouble. But until he figured out who the hell was behind all the mishaps on the ranch, he wasn
't going to town―wedding or not.

"
Damn. Where the hell do I start?" He couldn't figure out why the culprit was doing it. "It doesn't make sense," he whispered. The questions burned into his mind. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. Damn it he couldn't think. He and Clive had gone over all the men and possible reasons for their actions, but still came up with nothing.

He
thought of Rusty, and his stomach turned. It was his fault the man had died. If he hadn't fired him, the man might still be alive. At the funeral, he couldn't help but notice that Boyd didn't remove his hat as the others had. He found it strange, not to mention disrespectful. There was something about the man that didn't sit well with him, and he vowed to keep an eye on him.

He picked up a rock, and flung it sideways into the water, watching as it skipped halfway across the creek, and then sunk to the bottom. He closed his eyes, and placing his
hat low over his forehead, he tried to picture Becky. But instead, another woman's face appeared in his mind.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Boyd couldn't believe his luck. A lockdown, and no damn liquor allowed.
No bloody way I'm handin' over my bottle.
He'd hidden it well, and no one was taking his nightly drinking away from him.
Damn that John Taylor with his stupid rules
. Taylor was a bloody pain in the ass, and he was bent on getting rid of him too. He spat on the ground. He'd take care of that little bit of business after he had Angel.

It was time to make a move. He was gettin
' tired of all the sneaking around, tired of his plans falling short, and damn tired of merely watching Angel Green. He rounded the bunkhouse and saw Ben sitting on a stump, head in his hands, crying. He was in no mood for a whining kid.

"
Hey," he gave him a little shove, "what're you cryin' for?"

The kid shrugged, his
face wet with tears. "Livy almost died from fallin' off that horse."

"
Yeah, but she didn't." He sat down beside him. "She hasn't left, has she?" He knew Angel hadn't left, but couldn't let the kid know that.

Ben shook his head.

"
Well," he smiled, "we'll have to think of another plan."

Ben shook his head again. "No way, mister," He wiped his face with his hand, "I'm not gonna hurt Miss Livy no more."

Boyd
's face turned red with anger. "You're not too bright, are ya kid? You see, you cut that cinch. You got Rusty fired. All of that is
your
fault."

"
I never wanted to hurt her. You know that." Ben pleaded.

"
Do you think your Pa is gonna believe that?" He was getting sick of the kid.

"
Rusty got killed last night, and my Pa thinks someone on the ranch did it."

He
snickered.

"
Well, your Pa is right, kid." He spat on the ground, and then sank forward so only Ben could hear him. "I killed Rusty."

Ben gasped and stood up, but he grabbed his arm jerking him close. "He couldn't keep a secret, and I don't like it when my friends can't keep secrets."

Ben
's eyes began to tear, and his bottom lip quivered.

He squeezed Ben
's arm hard enough to bruise it. "So you see kid, either you do as I say, and keep our secret, or I'll kill you, and your sister, and your damn Pa."

"
I…I…don't want to hurt Miss Livy. I don't want her gone anymore. You don't have to help me."

He
laughed.

"
Do you think I give a damn about what you want, kid?" His lip curled. "You better keep quiet until I tell ya so, or," He sliced his index finger along his throat. "Understand!?"

Ben swallowed. "Ye…yes, sir."

"
Good." He pushed him off of the stump. "Now get out of here, before someone sees us talkin'."

Ben took off toward the river.

He
frowned. His hatred for Angel was spreading to anyone associated with her, and he needed to end this once and for all. He stared at the house and saw John leaving. Closing one eye, he held up his fingers like a gun, aiming them at the man. "Bang, you're dead, Taylor." How he'd love to blow his head off. Who would the little bitch run to then? He could take Angel and John's damn ranch. He could have it all.

Certain his boss had slept with Angel,
he felt a tinge of jealousy at what the other man could have and he couldn't. He didn't doubt she'd spread her legs willingly, unlike when he'd had her. His cock grew stiff at the thought of her thrashing beneath him, her loud cries while she pleaded for him to stop.

He
'd seen her a few times, hopping around on those crutches of hers, and fantasized about how she'd react if he was to walk up to her. The fear he'd see in her green eyes turned him on. She wouldn't know what to do. If he couldn't figure out another way to get her alone, he may have to take her right out in the open for all to see.
And that would be fun.

Mmmm. Licking his lips,
he could still taste her. He wanted to touch her, feel her squirm, and wrestle him as he took her. The fun he would have tormenting her. Then slowly he'd kill her, laughing while she screamed for John Taylor.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

John,
back from his ride, rounded the corner of the house and heard a woman humming. Curious, he crept up onto the back porch to look into the kitchen window. He took a step back when he saw Livy. Her voice was beautiful, hitting each note. Leaning up against the side of the house to hear more, he was intrigued, and wondered why she had hidden this talent from him.

But as the tune floated past her lips,
he noticed something else. The melody was laced with a hint of mourning, and he couldn't help but feel sad as he listened to her. The song she hummed was a lullaby. He recognized it as one Becky had often sung to Ben when he was a baby. Wondering why she hummed it so forlornly, he opened the back door to find out.

"
You have a beautiful voice," he said, standing inside the kitchen.

She
gasped, and swung around to face him, her thumb stuck in her mouth.

When he saw blood running down her hand, he grabbed a towel and pulled her thumb from her mouth to apply pressure on the wound.

"
What happened?" he asked.

"
I…I…you scared me, and I cut myself."

"
A little bit more pressure and then I'll have a look at it," he said.

"
No, I'm fine. I can bandage it myself," she told him, trying to pull her hand away.

Refusing to let go of her, he
removed the towel to examine the thumb. "It probably feels a lot worse than it looks," The knife had sliced the middle of her thumb, but as far as he could tell, it wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches. "You'll be fine. I'll wash it up and let the air get at it to dry it out."

"
No." She pulled her hand away. "You go about whatever you were doing. I can clean it," she said.

He
clasped her hand and pulled it back to him. He guided her over to the wash basin. A bucket of clean water sat next to it so he dumped it over her hand. She hissed from the pain as the water turned a light shade of pink.

"
I wasn't doing anything except listening to you sing," he told her, feeling her tense under his touch.

She stared at her hand.

"
You have a lovely voice. Do you sing often?"

She didn
't answer him.

"
Livy?" He tipped his head so he could look at her, "Where did you learn that lullaby?"

Her face red
and she averted her eyes. "I…my…" she bit her lower lip, and shrugged.

Taking the opportunity to talk with her, to find out more about her, he asked, "Was it your mother who sang it to you?"

She
wrenched her hand from his, splashing water all over him. But he wouldn't let go. He pulled her back toward him, and stared into her terrified green eyes.

"
Is that who you were crying over the other night? Was it Emma?" he asked, watching as her face twisted with misery.

She didn't answer, instead closed her eyes as the tears slipped past her thick lashes.

"
Livy?"

"
Yes," she whispered.

He
pulled her into his embrace, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Were the two of you close?"

She cried softly, burying her head deeper into his chest.

He wanted know more. He wanted to take away the hurt that he'd seen on her face so many times before. "How did she die?"

She
didn't answer him. She clutched his shirt and cried into his chest.

"
Ah, darlin'," he whispered, rubbing her back. He could feel her pain as her tears soaked through his shirt. "Is that why you have those breathing attacks Ben was talkin' about?"

She moaned, but still didn't answer him.

"
Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head.

He
figured she'd talk when she was ready. He wouldn't push her. "If you ever need to, I'll be here." He smiled down at her, glad she had opened up to him.

Sniffling now,
she lifted her head to look up at him. The agony he saw in her eyes, the fear in her face, pulled something loose within him, and he wanted to take all her pain away.

Holding her face between his hands, he wiped her tears with his thumbs. He brushed his nose against hers, then touched his lips to hers in a velvety kiss
.

She kissed him back, her lips melting to his.

"
I better go and get some work done," he whispered against her mouth, "Will you be all right?"

She
nodded and he bent down to kiss her forehead one more time before he left.

Livy thought she was
going to vomit. She lied to John. She told him Emma was her mother. How could she have done that? It was not her intention to tell another lie. Groaning, she covered her face with her hands. She was horrible person. She shouldn't have said anything.

And of all the people to say Emma was, she told him it was her mother. She didn
't even know her mother that well, and couldn't say whether she even liked the woman or not. Her mother had lived her whole life inside a saloon, drinking and carousing. And she had grown up watching her mother hang off of the men who drank there.

While her mother was with her clients,
she crouched in a dark, musty corner framed by a dressing screen. It wasn't what she called a great life. She recalled a time when she needed her mother. She was thirteen, and had woken up with blood between her legs. Afraid that she may be dying, she went to search for her mother. Livy found her, drunk at the bar with the other women like her. She tried to get her attention, as her mother was sprawled across a cowboy's lap. The filthy man was groping her, and Livy's stomach turned at the things her mother was letting the man do to her.

When her mother realized she had been standing there, and not in her room where she was supposed to be, she slapped Livy hard across the face. That was enough to send Livy fleeing back to her corner while clutching her throbbing cheek
.

The next day, with money she stole from her mother, she went to the doctor. The kind man brought his wife in to talk to Livy about what was happening to her and what to do when her monthly came. She also told her what to expect if her monthly
's stopped. Livy knew she felt sorry for her. A woman now, with an uncaring, drunken harlot for a mother.