Midnight Flame (40 page)

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Authors: Lynette Vinet

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BOOK: Midnight Flame
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As often as she tried to think of Arthur as her father, she found she couldn’t. Sylvester Delaney would always be her father as far as she was concerned. Still she couldn’t dispel the knowledge that Arthur had been her father; Lavinia was her sister. She longed to tell Lavinia this but resisted. Ever since Lavinia learned the ranch had been sold and Laurel was running things until the owner arrived, she hadn’t bothered to hide her hostility. Laurel believed that she and Lavinia would never be close friends, much less sisters.

Seth, however, was more than pleasant, apparently reconciled to the fact that Laurel now ran the ranch and controlled the money. She had learned from going over the account books that Seth had accumulated a large number of debts. She understood why Arthur had decided to sell the ranch. The debts must be paid, but she realized that Seth’s share of the profits from the ranch’s sale would barely cover the clothing debts to San Antonio stores and to a person known as Ortega.

A week after the will’s reading, Laurel asked Seth who Ortega was.

“Just an acquaintance of mine, darlin’.”

“This ‘acquaintance’ requires quite a bit of money. What sort of debt is that?”

Seth shrugged his broad shoulders, holding his hat in his hands. He reminded her of a small schoolboy standing before the schoolmarm’s desk. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay him off when the ranch is sold.”

“You’ll be lucky to barely cover this debt with the money.” She held up numerous bills from the stores. “And what about these clothing establishments? They need their money, too. How do you intend to pay them?”

“Aw, sugar, don’t bother your pretty head over those nasty bills. I’ll take care of them.” Walking around the desk, he pulled Laurel to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I just want to know when your divorce is final.”

She found herself imprisoned in his embrace, not certain she cared for it. Though Seth had never been outwardly unpleasant to her, there was always a guarded quality in his eyes that disturbed her, and she wondered if he had a cruel streak. Pushing him away, she managed to break his hold.

“I imagine the divorce will take a while longer to come through. Tony is handling the details, and I expect to hear from his lawyer any day. In fact, Carson has agreed to represent me.” Seth reached for her again, and Laurel once more managed to separate herself from him. “Please, Seth, I’m busy now.”

His eyes hardened like blue ice, but she decided that Seth hadn’t done an adequate job of running the ranch during Arthur’s illness. It was up to her to take charge, and she didn’t want to be deterred from her duties. Picking up the bills, she opened the desk drawer and placed them on top of some greenbacks and pieces of gold kept there for the purpose of having ready cash in the house. She locked the drawer with a tiny key and slipped the key into another drawer.

She had expected an argument from Seth for putting him off, but he smiled at her. “At least you’re still wearing my ring. I’m full of hope. Laurel. Really, I’m bursting with it.”

He left the room, whistling a happy tune. Some minutes later a knock sounded on the door. The man to whom she bade entry strode into the room and waited on the other side of the desk. He
didn’t
remind her of a naughty schoolboy. Over six feet tall, his long jean-clad legs were spread-eagled in their stance. His light-blue shirt was covered with a layer of fine dust as was the hat he had recently removed. Long, dark hair hung in shaggy waves to his shoulders, an equally black beard and mustache covered most of his face, and ebony eyes were fringed with long dark lashes. She had the impression that he was probably part Mexican, maybe Indian, or a smattering of both.

He threw his hat on a chair by the desk and sat in the one opposite when Laurel motioned to him to sit.

“You’re Jamie Castle, I believe.”

The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Tom spoke highly of you. He said you were hired in San Antonio. Have you had any ranch experience?”

“Sure.”

“Well, where, when?”

“No place you’d know of, ma’am.”

“Try me.”

He hesitated a minute. In one swift motion he stood up and grabbed his hat. “I don’t think you’d want me as a foreman once you know. So, I better be moving along. I’m surprised nobody’s caught on to me yet, but Tom thought I was a good worker and hired me on. I guess it was stupid to come back here, but I needed the work.”

“I don’t understand any of what you’re saying, Mr. Castle. Do sit back down and explain.”

A muscle jumped alongside his eye, but he sat down, and Laurel waited patiently until he began to speak.

“My name’s not Jamie Castle but Jim Castille. I worked on the Little L about eight or nine years ago. I’m a good worker and honest despite what Seth Renquist says.” He sounded bitter. “I know you’re going to marry him, but I didn’t do what he said I did. I didn’t steal from Mr. Delaney. I liked and respected him too much for that. Somebody stole the money, and Seth said I did it. I didn’t do it. I swear I didn’t do it.”

“I see,” she said, showing nothing by word or deed to infer that she did or didn’t believe him. She sensed he had suffered a great deal in his life and deserved another chance to make good. “Tom Evans thought very highly of you, so highly that he risked Arthur Delaney discovering you were back on the ranch. Why do you suppose he’d take such a chance?”

Jim Castille lifted his hands in a gesture of disbelief. “Tom’s a good guy. He wants to give everybody a second chance.”

“Then I will, too, Mr. Castille. If Tom thought enough of you to hire you back, he must have known you were innocent of stealing. You are now foreman of the Little L.” Laurel extended her hand, and Jim took it, not quite certain he had gotten the job.

“You mean it, ma’am?”

“Yes, I do. If you’d rather not use your real name, I understand that, too. I wonder why Seth hasn’t recognized you.”

Jim grinned and stroked his full beard. “My own mother wouldn’t recognize me now, but I’ll use my own name. I swear to you I didn’t steal that money, and I don’t want to hide for the rest of my life.”

“Good. If anyone gives you any trouble, let me know. I assure you that my word is the law here until the ranch is turned over to the new owner in a few weeks. And just to set the record straight, I’m not officially engaged to Mr. Renquist.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Thank you, ma’am. You’re real kind.”

As Jim turned to leave the room, he put on his hat and then nearly bumped into Lavinia. He stood stock still, keeping his head lowered and mumbling an apology. He was gone before Lavinia could utter a sound.

“Who was that?” Lavinia asked, remembering seeing him the day of her birthday celebration, which would forever be linked to her father’s death.

“The new foreman, Jim Castille.”

“Jim … Castille?” Lavinia’s voice cracked. Her limbs quaked, and she sank into the chair Jim had recently vacated.

Laurel glanced up from an account book. “Do you know him? He said he worked here years ago. Lavinia, are you all right? You’re so pale.”

Shaking her head, Lavinia jumped up. “He’s a thief! I won’t tolerate Jim Castille being here on the Little L. Papa ran him off with a shotgun. He stole from us, he stole—”

“Yes, I know. What else did he steal?”

My heart, Lavinia almost said, but instead, she twisted around and headed for the door. “We’ll see just how long that thief stays on the Little L. I’ll fire him!”

“Don’t you dare!” Laurel bellowed. “I hired Jim Castille, and I believe him when he said he didn’t steal anything. I think he’s a decent, honest man.”

“In a pig’s eye! We’ll see what Seth says.”

Laurel strode across the room to Lavinia. “I don’t care what Seth says. I hired the man and he’s staying. If either one of you interferes in whatever I do on this ranch, you both can move off. Understand?”

From the fiery gleam in Laurel’s eyes, Lavinia did understand. “Whatever you say, boss lady.” She whirled away, leaving the room in a flash of blue Levis and auburn hair.

Laurel leaned tiredly against the doorframe. She had thought the major problem in ranching would be the ranch, not the people on it.

~ ~ ~

Running the distance from the house to the ranch foreman’s bunkhouse, Lavinia reached the porch, breathless and flushed. The scuffing sound of her boots on the wooden floorboards was the only indication to Jim Castille that someone was outside. When she opened the door, pushing it back loudly against the wall, she saw Jim sitting on the edge of his bunk, calmly polishing his best boots to a high sheen. He barely glanced in her direction, infuriating her further because he didn’t immediately acknowledge her presence.

Her blazing blue stare finally forced him to glance up. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. No more than fifteen minutes. Must be some kind of a record.”

“You arrogant, nervy bastard! How dare you show your face around here! I can’t believe that even you’d have the gumption after what you did.”

Jim glanced down, seemingly absorbed in his boots. “I didn’t steal from your father, Lavinia. If you had loved me at all, you’d have trusted me.”

“Don’t put the blame on me. I wasn’t the one caught with Father’s gold pieces on me. I still don’t know how you could have sneaked into my house, into Papa’s study and stolen from him. You’re a thief, Jim Castille. A thief. Look at me, you thieving bastard. Put down those damn boots and look at me!” Lavinia grabbed the boots from him and hurled them across the room.

In a fluid panther-like motion, Jim rose up and pinioned her wrist between his large hands. She nearly cowered beneath his dark and penetrating stare that stripped away her haughty facade and saw her soul. That was the main reason she had fallen in love with Jim Castille all those years ago. He had a way of seeing beneath the surface and stirring up her emotions. But right now she didn’t want him to see how his very presence, his masterful touch, affected her.

“Let me go.” She struggled, but Jim only gripped her more tightly. “You think because you’re bigger that you have power over me. You’re wrong. I stopped wanting you when you robbed my father.”

“You were always a poor liar. You want me now.”

“I hate you.”

“I’ll prove you wrong, and you know I can.” With deliberate slowness, Jim lowered his head until his lips locked with hers in a heated kiss. Lavinia felt her body respond to the feel of his mouth on hers, and when his tongue sought entry, she found that her own willingly and wantonly met his. Her breasts met the hardness of his chest, and she ached for him to touch her. For a few dizzy seconds she forgot that she had sworn to hate Jim Castille. Instead she found her traitorous body had no will of its own. No longer was she the inexperienced girl who had loved him, and he definitely wasn’t the young boy who had loved her and who had risked Arthur Delaney’s wrath to possess her.

Their bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly, she thought as her throbbing pulses beat a wild cadence—almost as if they were made for each other. No man had ever made her feel the way Jim could with a just a kiss. She knew she was like clay in Jim’s arms and always had been. She had loved him for so long and had fought that love. At this moment, she didn’t want to fight any longer. She wanted Jim Castille.

“I know you want me, Lavinia.” His breath grazed her ear and sent delightful shivers down her spine. “Tell me you want me, that you want me to tame you, my wild blue-eyed temptress.”

“Yes, oh, yes. I want you. Only you, Jim.”

He pushed her from him. Through passion-laced eyes she watched as the lips that had kissed hers with such desire now curled into a sneer.

“I’m not like Buck Dawson or one of the others always panting around you. Your tempting lips, soft body, have no hold over me any longer, Lavinia. Maybe
this
time,
I
don’t want
you.
Why don’t you seek out one of your other men for satisfaction? You’re as ready as a mare in heat.”

Jim dropped her wrist almost as if he found her loathsome. Tears gathered in her eyes. She hadn’t felt this abandoned since the day her father had chased Jim from the ranch. That day she vowed never to be hurt again, to hate Jim Castille for the rest of her life. Now, at this moment, the vow renewed itself within her. Lifting a hand, she slapped him and was rather surprise d when he just stood there and took the torrent of her rage.

“I was right about you. You are a bastard! I hate you! If you ever come near me again, I’ll kill you. I swear, I’ll kill you.”

She ran out of the bunkhouse, running without direction. Finally she stopped and found herself on the grassy, green knoll where her father was buried beside her mother and Anna. Dropping to her knees, Lavinia felt the tears streak down her face, and she sobbed long and hard. She hadn’t cried in such a way since the day she had given birth to Jim’s still-born baby daughter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

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