Passion's Fury (16 page)

His arrogant smile infuriated her. What was worse was the way her body flushed when he looked at her as he was doing then. “I don’t like to take virginity, April. I let women make the overtures till they become truly experienced.”

‘“Well, you’ll freeze in hell before I make an overture,” she yelped, but he closed his door on her.

The man is insane, she thought furiously as she changed from her dress to a sleeping gown. He didn’t believe in raping women, did he? Well damn him, if he ever took her again, it would have to be rape!

She crawled beneath the quilts, trembling with cold. Memories of what had taken place in that bed only a few hours earlier made her body feel even colder.

He was on the other side of the wall. All she had to do was call to him and he would come, to hold her and kiss her and lead her to heights of joy.

She would not call. No! There were more important things to think about. How soon could she escape and return to Pinehurst?

Rance Taggart meant nothing to her. He was an animal, regarding a woman as a stud does a mare—something to couple with and then forget. And though she did not truly love Alton, she knew that he would have been different. He was the man for her. Not Rance Taggart.

She rolled on her side, beating the pillow down with her fist. She would dream of Alton, and of how it would be when they were married, making love, warm, secure, decent, respectable love.

But in her dreams, the face of the man who held her was not Alton’s. She saw raven hair, smoldering brown eyes, and an arrogant smile that annoyed and excited her, all at once. His kisses tasted of warm, sweet wine.

On the other side of the wall, Rance Taggart lay in his own bed, arms folded behind his head. Damn! he cursed himself silently. Of all the women in the world, why did he have to win April Jennings in a race?

He had no time to get involved with a woman. There was a war. He had to train his horses for the Confederacy. She could only mean trouble. The thing to do was let her go. Let her get the hell out of his life.

Limpid blue eyes framed by lashes that seemed to have been dusted with silver and gold floated before him. He felt soft golden hair entwine about his fingers. Her beautiful body was alive in his embrace.

Savage desire burned Rance, there in the darkness.

No, he had no intention of letting her go.

Chapter Ten

Rance Taggart was stripped to the waist. The March winds were chilly, but the sun beat down upon his back, so he did not feel any cold. He had also worked up quite a sweat with the horse he was breaking.

He rubbed the gelding’s back, smiling with satisfaction. Captain James Randolph had asked for the best possible cavalry horse, and Rance was going to give it to him. He was going to show the Confederate army he could produce the very best mounts.

Already people were saying that the Confederate cavalry was far superior to the Yankees’. He wanted to keep it that way. The South, for the present, was aided by its own background and tradition. Reb recruits came from rural areas and were used to horses. Many Yankee recruits could barely sit a horse. The North just wasn’t horseback country. And legends of chivalry made it so much more gallant to go off to war on horseback instead of on foot.

But there was a problem to come, and Rance figured he saw it quicker than the government did. The Southern soldier was riding off to war on his own horse. But after several battles, when his horse had died, he had to get another one himself. Sometimes he could get a furlough and go home for another, and sometimes he had to do without.

That’s where Rance was going to come in. He already had 300 horses ready to take to Dalton, Georgia. Captain James Randolph had agreed to buy the whole lot even if he had to pay for them out of his own pocket. Surely there would be other officers just like Randolph who would need horses.

Rance’s one big problem was going to be finding the animals, because he couldn’t raise them that quickly.

Everyone was saying that Jeb Stuart’s Reb troops could teach tricks to circus riders. Tales of Stuart and his men were already widespread, and Rance also had a lot of respect for what he had heard of Joe Wheeler and Nathan Bedford Forrest. Forrest was called an untaught genius. He had no military training and not a shred of social status, but he was probably going to be the best cavalry charger in the whole damned war.

“Git thar fust with the most men,” said Forrest. Rance, too, believed in the speed and prowess of mounted soldiers, and by God, he was going to see that the Confederacy had the best horses.

A movement caught his eye, and he turned to see April walking toward the cabin, carrying two chickens with freshly wrung necks. He was not close enough to see, but he knew her tiny nose would be wrinkled in disgust. In the two months she had been with him, the cook had taught her the cooking chores at the main house, but he knew she would still be repelled by having to clean chickens.

Before going inside, she stopped to gaze at him across the expanse of cleared land. She did not smile, merely looked at him for long, silent moments, then disappeared inside.

He turned his attention back to the horse. She probably hated him. If he could have seen her eyes, the hatred would have been glittering in their sapphire depths. He knew the look. He saw it every time they sat down to one of their silent meals together. Sometimes she glared at him and other times she just looked at him like she was hurt. Plenty hurt. Maybe she had a right to be. Hell, it wasn’t her fault that he had won her in a damn race. And it wasn’t her fault she had been raised as she had.

He still regretted the remark he had made to her when she accused him of treating her like property, when he’d thrown her daddy’s slaves up to her. He knew full well that April Jennings did not hold with slavery. He could remember her sitting and reading to the Negroes, because they were not allowed to learn how themselves. He had even suspected that, when nobody was around, she was
teaching
them.

Sure, she was spoiled. No way to avoid that, the way her daddy doted on her, giving her anything she wanted. The only time she had not gotten her way was when she tried to make him stop treating Vanessa badly. But nobody could have changed Carter Jennings’s mind about his other daughter.

Rance figured that the man had coming whatever he got. And knowing Vanessa, he imagined she was giving the old man a pretty rough time.

Damn it all, he was doing April a favor to keep her here, he thought defensively. She wasn’t up at the monastery in the mountains living with monks, and she wasn’t back at Pinehurst fighting with Vanessa. She was living here, and living good, as a matter of fact. Nobody bothered her. Especially him. He was not going to force himself on any woman. The only reason he had made her want him that first night was because he figured she expected it. And he never would have thought a woman who looked that sexy could possibly be a virgin. Still, he was sorry about that night. Kind of.

Rance Taggart had had many women, but he had never loved any of them. He made love to them, and in a strange sort of way, he figured he needed them, but he was rough and selfish with them. One pretty woman was like another. He had sense enough to know that some of the women in his past had only pretended to be aroused. The whores in Birmingham and Montgomery and others along the way were only performing. They could not possibly have been as eager as they pretended to be. That hadn’t bothered him. It just made it that much better when he found one who didn’t pretend.

Like April.

She had wanted him. Oh, hell, yes, she had wanted everything he had to give her. When she got her pleasuring, it was no act. The realization made him want her something fierce.

“You’re gonna brush the hide right off that horse.”

He whipped around quickly at the same time his right hand moved, lightning fast, to the gun in his holster. By the time he recognized Edward Clark, he had his gun pointed straight at him.

“Hey, watch it!” Clark’s face paled.

“I don’t like anybody sneaking up on me,” Rance snarled, putting his gun back in the holster. “Why aren’t you watching April like you’re supposed to be?”

“She’s not going anywhere. I can see the house from here, anyway. How come you’re brushing that horse so hard? You got something eating on you?”

“If I have,” Rance replied, giving the gelding one last swipe, “it’s my business. What’s she been doing today?”

“Watching the cook kill chickens, or at least trying to watch,” he added with a laugh. “She covered her face when he started wringing necks. She’s no farm girl, that’s for sure.”

Rance led the horse from the stable, Edward right on his heels.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, Rance,” he spoke hesitantly. “Some of the boys were talking, and we’re wondering just how long you plan to keep her here.”

Rance flashed him an annoyed glance. “That’s also my business. She’s not giving you a hard time, asking you to let her go, is she?”

“No. That’s kinda sad, too. Like her spirit’s broke, like she just don’t care for nothing, no more. She just does what she’s told and never says a word.”

When Rance made no comment Edward rushed on boldly. “You know, she’s a fine-looking woman. About the finest-looking woman I ever saw. Hair the color of sunrise, eyes that make you want to just crawl in ’em. Lord! Anyone can see she’s got a body that would drive a man wild, and the boys don’t blame you for keeping her around, but they still don’t like it. I mean, a woman out here—”

“That’s enough!” Rance whirled around, a muscle twitching in his cheek. His eyes flashed ominously. “You and the others would be wise to keep your mouths shut.”

“Hey, don’t get mad.” Edward threw out his arms in a pleading gesture. “We just wonder how long this is going to go on.”

Rance took a deep breath, trying to get his temper under control. Clark had seen him lose it. He had also seen, lying on the floor beaten to a pulp, the man who had
made
him lose it. He knew he was treading on dangerous territory. “You’re my best hand, Clark,” he said quietly, evenly. “That’s why I trust you to look after her. But stay out of my personal life, or we’re going to have problems.”

Edward glanced away nervously, uncomfortable in his boss’s angry, challenging glare. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I just thought I’d let you know the boys don’t like it.”

Rance began to trot the horse around in the circle while he held on to the end of a rope fastened to his harness. “He’s a fine one, isn’t he?” he asked, dismissing the tension. “I broke him for that cavalry captain who’s buying three hundred horses for his company.”

“Yeah, next to Virtus, I’d say he’s about the finest piece of horseflesh on the whole ranch,” Clark nodded. “When do we take them horses to Georgia?”

“Tomorrow. I told the boys to round them up today and be ready to leave at dawn. You’re going with us.”

“Who’s going to watch April?”

“She won’t give anybody any trouble. She won’t even go near the woods now that we’re having warm weather and seeing a few snakes around. I’ll leave Hinton and Mulhern. Hinton’s still limping on that ankle he busted, and Mulhern’s got a bad foot from that horse stepping on him. They can keep an eye on things.”

“It’s fine with me. We shouldn’t be gone over a week, anyway.”

“Well, me and you aren’t coming back right away. Selling off three hundred horses is going to cut into our stock. We’ve got to do some scouting around. The war is going to pick up this spring, for sure, and we’ve got to have horses. The Rebs are going to realize before long that they’ve got to buy their own, and when they do, I want to be ready to supply them.”

Edward Clark whistled and shook his head. “Boy, that’s going to take some scouting. Don’t you imagine the Yankees have got the same idea?”

Rance grinned. “I sure hope they do. I plan to steal the horses from them.”

Before Clark could react, they looked up at the sound of a door closing and saw April on the front porch. She did not look at them, but sat down on the steps to stretch her arms toward the azure sky and the warm sun.

Rance touched the tip of his mustache and stared at her for several seconds, then said, “Go tell her to come over here.”

Edward was surprised. Rance usually ignored the girl and she ignored him. He figured the only contact they ever had was in bed, after dark. Nobody ever saw them talking, and even though Rance would kill him if he knew it, Joe Townes had peeked in the window once and watched the two eating supper. He said neither of them spoke a word all through the meal.

Having riled his boss enough for one day, he made no comment, but approached April. “Boss wants to see you,” he said tonelessly.

For a moment, she continued to sit, staring straight ahead. Finally she got to her feet, smoothed the skirt of her bright gingham dress, and started toward Rance.

Edward shook his head and moved off toward the bunkhouse. He would never be able to figure out the situation. Knowing Rance’s temper, maybe it was best not to try.

April said nothing when she reached Rance, just waited for him to speak. She kept her head down, staring at the ground.

“You never did learn to ride a horse well, April,” he said pleasantly.

She looked up at him, and he saw just a spark of defiance in the sapphire eyes. “I know how to ride a horse!”