Hawk's Way (12 page)

If he stayed on as a Ranger, Jesse wouldn't have much time to invest in the ranch. He could expect to be called away on assignments often. Honey would be left to take care of things. As she must have been left for most of her married life, Jesse suddenly realized.

He had never heard Honey complain once about the burden she had carried all these years. And he was only thinking in terms of the ranch. Honey had probably borne most of the responsibility as a parent as well. She had done a good job. Jack and Jonathan were fine boys that any man would be proud to call sons.

Jesse felt a tightness in his chest when he remembered the look he and Jack had shared at the end of the day they had spent working together. Jesse had never known a stronger feeling of satisfaction. He had truly felt close to the boy. It was hard to imagine walking away from Jack and Jonathan. It was impossible to imagine walking away from Honey.

All his life Jesse had somehow managed to have his cake and eat it, too. Honey was asking him to make a choice. He just didn't know what it was going to be.

Jesse saw the truck lights in the distance and checked the revolver he had stuck in the back of his jeans. It wasn't particularly easy to get to, but then, he was hoping the show of force by the police would reduce the chance of gunplay. He stood by the corral waiting as the tractor-trailer truck pulled up. The engine remained running. It was Mort Barnes who stepped into the glare of the truck headlights.

Jesse stiffened. He saw his efforts to finally uncover the man in charge going up in smoke. “Where's your boss?” he demanded.

Mort grinned, though it looked more like a sneer. “I'm the boss.”

“I don't believe you,” Jesse said flatly.

Mort revealed the automatic weapon in his hand and said, “I'll take that bull.”

Jesse didn't hesitate. He threw himself out of the light at the same instant Mort fired. Instead of running for cover, Jesse leapt toward the rustler. Blinded by the headlights, Mort didn't see Jesse until he had been knocked down and his gun kicked out of his hand, disappearing somewhere in the underbrush.

Moments later, Jesse straddled Mort on the ground, with a viselike grip on the rustler's throat and his gun aimed at the rustler's head. “I told you I'm only going to deal with your boss.”

“Why you—” Mort rasped.

“You can release Mort,” a voice said from the shadows on the other side of the truck, “and drop the gun. I'm here.”

Jesse didn't recognize the man who stepped into view, his automatic weapon aimed at the center of Jesse's back. But it wasn't Adam Phil
ips. Jesse dropped his gun. Then he released Mort and stood to face the newest threat. “Are you the boss of this outfit?”

“I am,” the man said. “I can't say it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Whitelaw. Actually, you've thrown a bit of a corkscrew into my plans. If you'll just step over to that shed, we can finish our business.”

“You brought the money?” Jesse asked.

“Oh, no. All deals are off. I'm simply offering you a chance to get out of this alive. Are you going to walk over there peacefully, or not? I've already killed once. I assure you I won't hesitate to do so again.”

Jesse was pretty sure the Boss intended to kill him anyway, but he was counting on Dallas to make sure he got out of this alive. Meanwhile, he had best keep his wits about him. He took his time sliding away the board that held the shed door closed, giving Dallas plenty of time to get everybody into position. Once Jesse was inside the shed and, he hoped, before the Boss man shot him, Dallas would move and it would all be over.

The instant Jesse released the door, a blur of movement shot past him. The escaping body was caught by Mort. Jesse's blood froze when he saw the gangly teenager the rustler was wrestling into submission.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jesse rasped.

“Waiting for you!” Jack retorted. “You won't get away with this, you know. I'll tell them everything. They'll catch you, and you'll go to jail forever.”

“Dammit, Jack, I—”

“Hey!” Jack was eyeing the man holding the gun on Jesse. “I know you! You're the foreman of the Lazy S. What're you doing here, Mr. Loomis?”

“Dammit, Jack,” Jesse muttered. Now the fat was in the fire.

“You got any more surprises hidden around here?” Loomis asked Jesse.

“Look, the kid being here is as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” Jesse said.

Jesse closely watched the man Jack had identified as Mr. Loomis and saw his mouth tighten,
his eyes narrow. By identifying the Boss and making threats of going to the law, Jack had signed his own death warrant. Jesse forced himself not to glance out into the darkness. Adam's foreman was suspicious enough already. Dallas would realize that the boy's presence complicated things and make new plans accordingly.

“Both of you get into the shed,” Loomis said, gesturing with the gun.

Jack spied the gun for the first time, and his eyes slid to Jesse's, wide with fright.

“It's all right,” Jesse said in a voice intended to calm the youth. “They're just going to lock us up in the shed.”

Jesse's last doubts that Loomis intended killing them both ended when Mort chuckled maliciously and said, “Yeah, you two just mosey on inside.”

Jack struggled against Mort's hold, and the outlaw slapped him hard. “Quit your belly-achin' and get movin'.”

Jesse had decided to use the distraction Jack was creating to make a lunge for Loomis's gun, when a pair of headlights appeared on the horizon.

“I knew it was a trap!” the outlaw snarled. Loomis swung the gun around to aim it at Jack and fired just as Jesse grabbed at his hand, pulling it down.

Jesse grunted as the bullet plowed into his thigh, but he never let go of his hold on Loomis's wrist. He swung a fist at the foreman's face and heard a satisfying crunch as it connected with the man's hooked nose. Loomis managed to fire once more before Jesse wrenched the gun away, but the bullet drove harmlessly into the ground.

Moments later, the area was swarming with local police and Texas Rangers. It soon became apparent to Jack from the way Dallas Masterson greeted Jesse, that the drifter wasn't going to be arrested by the Texas Rangers
because he was one!

“What idiot turned on those headlights?” Jesse demanded. “Damned near got us killed!”

Jesse's head jerked up when he heard the sound of a woman's voice beyond the arc of light provided by the semi's headlights. “Who's that?”

Dallas grinned. “The idiot who turned on the headlights.”

Jesse only had a second to brace himself before Honey threw herself into his arms. Her eyes were white around the rims with fright. Her whole body was shaking.

“I saw what happened. You saved Jack's life! I heard shots. Are you hurt?” She pushed herself away to look at him and saw the dark shine of blood on his leg. “My God! You've been shot!” She turned to the crowd of men scattered over the area and shouted, “Where's a doctor? Why haven't you taken this man to the hospital?”

Jesse pulled her back into his arms. “It's all right, Honey. It's just a little flesh wound. I'll be fine.”

Jack stepped into the light and stood nearby, afraid to approach his mother and the drifter…who wasn't really a drifter after all.

Honey saw her son and reached out to pull him close. “Are you all right? You're not hurt?”

“I'm fine,” Jack mumbled, feeling lower than a worm for having caused so much trouble.

“You're damned lucky not to be dead!” Jesse said.

Jack glared at Jesse. “If you'd just told me the truth in the first place, none of this would have happened. I spent a whole day in that stupid shed for nothing!” He turned to his mother and said, “I'm hungry. Is there anything at home to eat?”

Honey gaped at Jack and then laughed. If her son had started thinking about his stomach, he was going to be just fine.

Dallas had left briefly and now joined them again. “I've got a car to take you to the hospital, Jesse.”

“I'll see you at home, Honey,” Jesse said.

Now that she knew Jesse was all right, Honey forced herself to step away from him. If anything, this episode only proved what she had known all along. She didn't want to be married to a Texas Ranger. “I'll let you in to get your things,” she said. “But I expect you to find somewhere else to spend what's left of the night.”

Jesse didn't argue, just limped away toward the car Dallas had waiting.

But Jack wasn't about to let the subject alone. “He saved my life, Mom.”

“I suppose he did.”

“You can't just throw him out of the house like that.”

“I can and I will.”

“If you want my opinion, I think you're making a mistake,” Jack said.

“I didn't ask for your opinion,” Honey said. “Besides, you've got a lot to answer for yourself, young man.”

Jack grimaced. “I can explain everything.”

“This I've got to hear.”

Angel interrupted to say, “I can give you both a ride home now.”

“Let's go,” Honey said. She put her arm around Jack and dared him to try to slip out from under it. “It's been a hectic night. Let's go home and get some sleep.”

“But I'm hungry!” Jack protested.

“All right. First you eat. Then it's bed for both of us.”

But hours later—just before dawn—when Jesse Whitelaw returned, Honey was sitting in the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, waiting for him.

H
oney didn't move when the kitchen door opened, just waited for Jesse to come to her. Her eyes drifted closed when his hands clasped her shoulders. She exhaled with a soughing sigh. He didn't give her a chance to object, just hauled her out of the chair, turned her into his arms and held her tight.

Honey's arms slipped around his waist and clutched his shirt. Her nose slipped into the hollow at his throat and she inhaled the sweaty man-scent that was his and his alone. She
wanted to remember it when he was gone. And she
was
going to send him away.

“We have to talk,” Jesse whispered in her ear.

Honey gripped him tighter, knowing she had to let him go. “I think I've said everything I have to say.”

“I haven't.” His lips twisted wryly. “I think this is where I'm supposed to sweep you into my arms and carry you off to the bedroom,” he said. “But I don't think my leg could stand the strain.”

Honey realized all at once how heavily he was leaning on her. “Come sit down,” she said, urging him toward a kitchen chair.

“Let's find something a little more comfortable,” he said. “Getting up and down is a pain. I'd like to find someplace I can stay awhile.”

She slipped an arm around his waist to support him while he put an arm across her shoulders. Slowly they made their way to the living room, where he levered himself onto the brass-studded leather couch. He winced as she helped him lift both legs and stretch out full-length.
She knelt beside him on the polished hardwood floor.

Jesse took one of her hands in both of his and brought it to his lips. He kissed each fingertip and then the palm of her hand. He laid her hand against his cheek, bristly now with a day's growth of beard, and turned to gaze into her eyes.

“Let me stay here tonight,” he said.

“Jesse, I don't think—”

“We have to talk, Honey, but I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“You can't stay here,” she said. If he did, she would be tempted to let him stay another night, and another. Before she knew it, he would be a permanent fixture. “You have to leave,” she insisted.

He smiled wearily. “Sorry. I'm afraid that's out of the question. Can't seem to get a muscle to move anywhere.” His eyes drifted closed. “I have some things to say…”

He was asleep.

Honey stared at the beloved face before her and felt her heart wrench in her breast. How
could she let him stay? How could she make him go?

She sighed and rose to find a blanket. After all, it was only one night. She would be able to argue with him better once she had gotten some sleep herself.

The homemade quilt barely reached from one end to the other of the tall Ranger. Jesse's face was gentle in repose. There was no hint of the fierceness in battle she had seen, no hint of the savage passion she had experienced. He was only a man. There must be another—not a Ranger—who would suit her as well.

She leaned down slowly, carefully, and touched her lips to his. A goodbye kiss. She walked dry-eyed up the stairs to her bedroom. It looked so empty. It felt so forlorn. She lay down on the bed and stared at the canopy overhead. It was a long time before she finally found respite in sleep.

The sun woke Honey the next morning. It was brighter than bright, a golden Texas morning. Honey stretched and groaned at how stiff she felt. Then she froze. Where was Jesse now?
Was he still downstairs sleeping? Had he packed and left? Was he dressed and waiting to confront her?

Honey scrambled off the bed and ran across the hall to the bathroom. She took one look at herself and groaned. Her face looked as if she'd slept in it. She started the water running in the tub as hot as she could get it and stripped off her clothes. There was barely an inch of liquid in the claw-footed tub by the time she stepped into it. She sank down, hissing as the water scalded her, then grabbed a cloth and began soaping herself clean.

It never occurred to her to lock the bathroom door. No one ever bothered her when she was in the bathroom. Her eyes widened in surprise when the door opened and Jesse sauntered in. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of jeans that threatened to fall off, revealing his navel and the beginning of his hipbones.

She held the washcloth in front of her, which didn't do much good, not to mention how silly it looked. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded indignantly.

“I thought I'd shave,” Jesse said. “We might as well get used to having to share the bathroom in the morning.” He turned and grinned. “That is, unless I can talk you into adding a second bathroom. One with a
shower?
”

“What's going on, Jesse?”

He soaped up his shaving brush and began applying the resulting foam to his beard. “I'm shaving,” he answered. “Looks like you're taking a bath.” He grinned.

Honey tried ignoring him. She turned her back on him and continued washing herself. She was feeling both angry and confused.
He has no right to be doing this! Why doesn't he just go?
If Jesse had changed his mind about leaving the Rangers he would have told her so last night. This was just another ploy to get his own way. She wasn't going to let him get away with it.

Honey covered herself with the washcloth as best she could while she reached for a towel. Just as she caught it with her fingertips, Jesse slipped it off the rack and settled it around his neck.

“I need that towel,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I'll be done with it in a minute,” he said. “I need to wipe off the excess shaving cream.”

Honey was tempted to stand up and stroll past him naked, but she didn't have the nerve. What if Jack was out there?
Jack!

“Where's Jack?” she asked.

“Sent him out to round up those steers we vaccinated and move them to another pasture.”

“And he went?”

“Don't look so surprised. Jack's a hard worker.”

Honey's brows rose. “I know that. I didn't think you did.”

“Jack and I have an understanding,” Jesse said.

“Oh?”

“I told him this morning that I was going to marry you and—”

“You what!” Honey rose from the water like Poseidon in a tempest. Water sluiced down her body, creating jeweled trails over breasts and belly.

Jesse didn't know when he had ever seen her looking more beautiful. Or more angry.

“Now, Honey—”

“Don't you ‘Now, Honey' me, you rogue. How could you tell my son such a thing? How could you get his hopes up when you
know
I'm not going to marry you!”

“But you are,” Jesse said.

Honey was shivering from cold and trembling with emotion. Jesse took the towel from around his neck and offered it to her. She yanked it out of his hand and wrapped it around herself.

“I'd like to play the gallant and carry you off to the bedroom to make my point, but—” He gestured to the wounded leg and shrugged. “Can't do it.”

Honey made a growling sound low in her throat as she marched past Jesse to the bedroom. Actually she had to stop marching long enough to squeeze past him in the doorway, and she had to fight him for the tail end of the towel as she slid by.

“Just have one more little spot I need to wipe,” he said, dabbing at his face.

“Let go!” she snapped. She yanked, he pulled, and the ancient terry cloth tore down the middle. “Now look what you've done!”

Tears sprang to Honey's eyes. “You're ruining everything!”

“It's just a towel, Honey,” Jesse said, misunderstanding her tears. He tried to follow her into the bedroom, but she shut the door in his face. And locked it.

“Hey, unlock the door.”

“Go away, Jesse.”

“I thought we were going to talk.”

“Go away, Jesse.”

“I'm not going to leave, Honey. You might as well open the door.”

“Go away, Jesse.”

Jesse put a shoulder against the door, just to see how sturdy it was, and concluded that at least the house was well built. His bad leg wouldn't support him if he tried kicking it in. Which was just as well. Honey wasn't likely to be too impressed with that sort of melodrama.

“I'm leaving, Honey,” he said.

No answer.

“I said I'm leaving.”

Still no answer.

“Aren't you going to say goodbye?”

“Goodbye, Jesse,” she sobbed.

“Jeez, Honey. This is stupid. Open the door so we can talk.”

She sobbed again.

Jesse's throat constricted. She really sounded upset. Maybe this wasn't the best time to talk to her after all. He had some chores he could do that would keep him busy for a while. Surely she couldn't stay in there all day. He'd catch her when she came down for some coffee later.

Honey heard Jesse's halting step as he limped his way down the stairs. So, he was leaving after all. Honey got into bed and pulled the covers over her head. She didn't want to think about anything. She just wanted to wallow in misery. She should have taken the part of him she could get, the part left over after he'd done his duty to the Rangers. It would have been better than nothing, certainly better than the void he would leave when he was gone.

Then she thought of all the time she would
have to spend alone, with no shoulder to share the burden, no lover's ear to hear how the day had gone and offer solace, and her backbone stiffened. She deserved more from a relationship than half measures. She had to accept the fact that Jesse had made his choice.

* * *

Honey didn't notice the sun creeping across the sky. She had no knowledge of the fading light at dusk. She never even noticed the sun setting to leave the world in darkness. Her whole life was dark. It couldn't get any blacker.

Meanwhile, Jesse had spent the day waiting patiently for Honey to come to her senses. At noon, he prepared some tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, planning to surprise her with his culinary expertise. He ended up sharing his bounty with Jack, who ate all the sandwiches and dumped the soup with the comment, “Mom makes it better.”

When Jesse had explained to Jack that he needed some time alone with Honey, Jack was more than willing to go spend the night with friends again. In fact, Jesse was embarrassed by the lurid grin on the teenager's face when he
agreed not to come home too early the next morning.

“Does this mean Mom has agreed to marry you?” Jack asked.

“I haven't quite talked her into it yet,” Jesse said.

“But you will.”

“I'm sure going to try,” Jesse said grimly.

“Don't worry,” Jack said, slapping Jesse on the shoulder. “I think Mom loves you.”

But as Jesse was discovering, the fact that Honey loved him might not be enough to induce her to marry him. Jack left late in the afternoon. Jesse tiptoed up the stairs and listened by Honey's bedroom door, but there was no sound coming from inside. He decided he was just going to have to outwait her.

It was nearly ten o'clock that evening before he finally decided she wasn't coming out anytime soon. He knocked hard on her bedroom door. “All right, Honey. Enough's enough. Come on out of there so we can talk.”

He heard the sound of rustling sheets and then a muffled “Jesse?”

A moment later the door opened. Her hair looked as sleep-tousled as it had the first morning he had come to the Flying Diamond. Her blue eyes were unfocused, confused. She tightened the belt on the man's terry cloth robe she was wearing, then clutched at the top to hold it closed.

“Jesse?” she repeated. “Is that you?”

“Of course it's me. Who did you think it was?”

“I thought you left,” she said.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Jesse felt angry and irritable. While he'd been cooling his heels downstairs all day, she'd been up here
sleeping!
“If you're through napping, maybe we could have that talk I mentioned earlier.”

“You want to talk?” Honey was still half-asleep.

“Yes, by God, I want to talk! And you're going to listen, do you hear me?” Jesse grabbed hold of her shoulders and shook her for good measure.

The moment Jesse touched her, Honey came instantly awake. This was no dream. This was
no figment of her imagination. A furious Jesse Whitelaw was really shaking the daylights out of her.

“All right, Jesse,” she said, putting her hands on his arms to calm him. “I'm ready to listen.”

At that moment there was a knock on the kitchen door and a familiar voice called up the stairs, “Honey? Are you home?”

Good old reliable Adam.

Honey ran past Jesse as though he wasn't even there, scrambled down the stairs and met Adam at the door to the kitchen.