Pioneer Passion (26 page)

Guy reported the rustling to the marshal who
promised to look into it, but admitted that he was short-handed
right now since most of his men were caught up with gold fever. He
returned to the ranch to saddle Blizzard and pick up more supplies,
knowing he would be out on the range for a while longer. Again, he
was sorry he had rushed off without a word to his wife, but it was
necessary to report the incident to the marshal as soon as
possible. By the time he returned home, the house was dark and he
assumed everyone was asleep. It was just as well, he would sneak
into the pantry, load up on supplies and remount, undetected. He
would make it up to Rusty when this was over, if she was still
speaking to him.

After four days, he, along with Scott and
some of the men returned to the ranch.

It ha been quiet after the second raid, so he
figured that maybe the rustlers were gone. His place was the only
cattle ranch around here; they might have seen the stakeout and
hightailed it. He prayed he was right, but in case he wasn’t, he
left three of the new hands he hired recently to guard the cattle.
Soon, his herd would be twice the size and he wrestled with the
thought of using barbed wire but really hated the idea. When the
men went to the bunkhouse to rest and wait for a well-deserved
meal, Guy greeted his wife who waited anxiously on the porch. Rusty
threw her arms around him and kissed him squarely in the lips.

Taken off guard by her sudden action, he
returned her kiss hungrily and though he was exhausted, his body
quickly reacted. He would have carried her off to bed and made
sweet, passionate love, the way he had dreamed every night on the
range, but he needed a bath and shave. When they parted, he saw her
ivory cheeks glow pink from his whiskers and he knew his face was
coarse against her delicate skin.

“Sweetheart, I hope you greet me like this
every time I come home. You sure know how to make a man feel
welcome.” He touched her face with his index finger and frowned, “I
burned your pretty white skin.”

His wife’s eyes become all buttery. “Oh,
Guy,” she purred, placing her hand on his prickly cheek. “When you
rode out of here four days ago without a word I was ready to,
to....” She looked down at her feet and murmured, “I’m ashamed that
I thought the worst of you. I’m sorry about.…” She burst out
weeping.

Guy hugged her tight against him. “Honey,
don’t cry.” He felt awful himself holding his weeping wife and her
tears didn’t help. He could kick himself ’til Sunday and not feel
as bad as he did right now. “I’m…” His apology caught somewhere in
his throat when she rested her head on his chest. “Come inside,” he
whispered, glad none of the ranch hands could see him. He then
separated her gently from him, rubbing her tear-stained face, and
smiled, his heart melting like liquid gold.

At dinner, he felt her eyes on him, studying
him quietly while he wolfed down his meal, never wavering in her
loving glance. That night, his wife waited for him to bathe and
freshen up before joining her in their bedroom. Guy sauntered into
the room, his stomach full and his lust anxious to be satisfied.
Their eyes were full of each other as he crossed the room in a few
long strides. Seeing her hollow cheeks flooded with color, his
wife’s sweet smile caused him to wonder what she was up to. He
never knew what to expect from his little minx. Maybe that’s what
he liked most about her; she kept him guessing all the time. Well,
he wouldn’t complain about this side of her and he wouldn’t change
her short-tempered side either.

The towel, that wrapped his lower body, flew
off with a swish. He grinned and his shaft swelled proudly when he
saw her green eyes grow darker as they studied him with such
intent. He was pleased to see she no longer turned her gaze from
him and his manly pride grew, knowing she became excited at the
sight of him. He removed the sheet to discover the reason for her
playful grin. She sat in bed under the covers without a stitch on
and he laid his hard body next to her curvy soft one, drinking in
the sheer beauty of her. His flesh branded her flesh.

“You are very beautiful.” His voice was heavy
with wanting. “Kid!” You’ve bewitched me. What kinda naughty
thoughts filled your mind while you were waiting for me with your
surprise,” he grinned smugly.”

She turned in his embrace without the cheeky
remark he expected. Instead, she dimpled and her sweet breath
caressed his face and his heart pounded like a sledge hammer
against his ribs.

Rusty shuddered with delight when he pulled
her into the folds of his steely arms, feeling his swollen desire
against her thigh. “Are you sure you’re up to love making? I know
you’re very tired from lack of sleep,” she teased.

He sighed, nipping at her ear making her so
dizzy, she forgot the question. God! She was afire and her breath
caught when Guy slid his hand between her thighs, touching,
stroking and teasing his fingers over her most secret place. The
ecstasy of it almost caused her to weep with joy. While she was
immobilized from the pleasure he was exacting upon her senses he
lifted her, rolling her heated body over his. He whispered,
seductively in her ear, “Tonight, my darlin’, you’re going to ride
the wild stallion.”

Dazed, Rusty lifted her head with a
questioning gaze seeing his dark hooded eyes dancing with mirth.
Guy lifted the corners of his mouth in a smug grin. She licked away
little beads of sweat from her upper lip.

“Get up on your knees, sweetheart.”

She did so without hesitation but her lips
parted with silent confusion. With his hands on her waist, he
gently settled her on his manhood, poised with readiness.

“Ooh, nooo! Guy, this can’t be right,” she
emitted a sharp moan.

“Does it feel wrong?”

He bared his teeth with a knowing smile and
all Rusty was able to do was shake her head. Experiencing the
onrush of desire inflamed the core of her being, her eyes flew open
and she gasped feeling her cheeks become warm.

“Now, my sweet, ride me like you rode
Butterscotch that day on my father’s range.”

She did and felt her soul gallop into another
world.

Chapter Twenty-Six

When his sister and Guy returned from their
trip, Scott watched the tender display of affection played out
before his spying eyes and ambivalent feelings stirred at the
conscience he never believed he owned. In the time Guy and his
sister were gone, he had learned to love the place he once hated.
He took pride in his work and now he wanted to own the ranch not
run it for someone else.

The news that Rusty had married his boss gave
him renewed hope of getting back their land. If something happened
to her husband, and accidents did happen on the range, the place
would once again be theirs. Yes, things were finally going his way;
the only problem was the fact that his sister looked truly happy.
He would bide his time, if she wasn’t as content as she appeared,
Guy might meet with an unpleasant mishap. But sometimes a tiny
voice needled him making him wonder if he wanted his sister to be
happy or not.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Christmas passed joyously; Guy brought her a
rawhide jacket. Rusty felt guilty and sad, she had nothing for her
husband but she would make it up to him someday, somehow. The weeks
that followed were not only peaceful on the range, but also in her
heart. The only trouble that lurked in the shadows was behind the
curtain in her mind. She approached her brother many times during
the last week begging him to tell Guy the truth, but he continued
to refuse, insisting it was still too early. Scott promised her
that he’d admit his identity soon. Rusty said she’d give him a
little longer but she believed Guy wouldn’t appreciate being lied
to anymore. She prayed her husband would forgive Scott as easily as
he forgave her. But, now she had another problem that needed her
full attention. Guy’s birthday was only weeks away and she fretted
about what to get him. She wanted to make up for Christmas and
purchase something special, but she had no money of her own and
couldn’t ask him without disclosing what it was for. It had to be a
surprise.

One day, as she was baking berry pies with
Mattie, an idea formed in her mind. It might work, she though. Guy
had told her he was going to spend four days on the range relieving
some of the men, so what did she have to lose? That afternoon, she
rode into town excitement bubbling within her. After she spotted
the gift, she felt Guy would like, she wasted no time in heading
for the hotel. Going straight to the front desk, she cleared her
throat softly for service. A wiry man turned to greet her. “May I
help you, miss?” he asked as his spectacles slipped from the bridge
of his long, thin nose. He raised his dark, small, calculating
eyes, at her, making her feel a mite uneasy. The odd man squinted,
pushing his glasses back to their proper place.

Rusty shuffled uncomfortably under this
strange man’s scrutinizing assessment of her person. Her voice
chilly, she asked, “May I speak with the hotel manager,
please.”

The clerk cleared his throat. “May I ask
why?” he replied.

Rusty wasn’t pleased with his attitude, his
nose was a little too high in the air, as if he were sniffing like
a mongrel. She squared her jaw and forced herself to be pleasant
though she would have liked to tell him it was none of his
business, and said, “I have a proposition for him.” Information
given! You little pipsqueak!

The man’s sparse brows arched causing his
beady eyes to grow with interest.

The pipsqueak tapped a pencil on the counter
boldly taking inventory of her assets and Rusty sensed she had
given him the wrong impression. Not wanting to make a scene, she
sucked in air and through gritted teeth, trying to keep hostility
out of her voice, said, “I have some wares I’d like to sell.” Again
the man smirked at her and realized she had made another mistake.
Starting to lose her patience with the little weasel, she ordered
herself to stay calm.

Stay calm. Stay calm. But that potted plant
looked mighty tempting.

“Sir! If you would, please ask your manager
to see me. I’ll wait for him over there on the bench.” She turned
in exasperation and cared not a wit what that beady-eyed weasel
thought. By the time she composed herself, a heavy-set man
approached her with a big grin on his face and she suspected he get
the message; a wrong message. She wondered if he’d believe the real
reason she had come. Well, she didn’t want to do business with him
if his mind was as dirty as the beady-eyed weasel’s behind the
counter. She rose and presented her hand saying, without
hesitation, and clarified. “Hello, I’m Rusty Strong. My husband
bought the Crawford place that was recently my father’s old
spread.”

The heavy-set man looked thoughtful for a
moment, and then he gave the clerk a nasty look. She’d just bet
that the pip-squeak gave the man the impression that she was here
to sell herself. The manager took her hand with his clammy one and
he then pulled a soiled hand-

kerchief from his pocket with his free hand
and wiped his beaded forehead. His breath seemed labored and he
made a wheezing sound when he inhaled.

“Mrs. Strong, I’m Mr. Haggerty, the hotel
owner. He parted his large lips to reveal uneven tobacco stained
teeth. My man said you wanted to see me with a...?” He nodded
towards the desk, and scowled at the man with the stupid grin on
his small face. He returned the handkerchief to his pocket and
propelled her, not too gently, away from the clerk whom he appeared
to be totally annoyed with.

“Please, ma’am, I’m very busy with the cook.
Do you mind of we talk in the kitchen?”

Rusty nodded. She was glad to be rid of the
clerk’s judgmental stare and followed Mr. Haggerty’s fleshy bulk
swaying with the motion of each step. They entered the noisy
kitchen through a swinging door. She noticed another heavy-set man
dressed in white with a chef’s hat on his head. He was banging pots
around, mumbling something unintelligible with an accent unknown to
Rusty. She felt that she was intruding on this man’s busy schedule
and wondered if she had made a mistake by coming. Mr. Haggerty
pulled out a chair offering her a seat. He was sweating profusely
again and he grabbed a rag from the counter, patting his face with
it. Sitting his bulk on the other chair caused it to protest with a
creak.

“I’m sorry to bother you at your busiest
time, but….” He dismissed her remarked with a wave of the damp
rag.

“My cook is very temperamental; please don’t
pay him any attention. These foreigners are a strange lot.”

“Mr. Haggerty, I came to see you to offer my
delicious baked berry pies to sell. I can deliver them early in the
morning and I’m willing to give you commission of a nickel for
every pie you sell, or a penny if you sell it by the slice. You’ll
find my wares are very delicious and I guarantee you’ll have many
satisfied customers. We can both profit from it.” She watched some
confusion flash in his gray eyes while he mulled over her offer,
then with a swiftness that surprised her, he stood and extended his
hand.

“Ma’am, I’ll take you up on your offer.” She
was delighted but she had the feeling that he was more interested
in seeing her again then selling her pies. They shook and the
bargain was sealed without further discussion. Rusty rode home
happy, everything went well. She swore Susan and Mattie to secrecy,
though they both thought she was crazy. She worked four nights,
slept days, and after the deliveries, she was exhausted. But she
still didn’t have enough money to buy the handsome leather vest she
had spotted in Mr. Dreyfus’s window. Her husband was to return
shortly and her pies made such a big hit, Mr. Haggerty pleaded with
her bring him more. She had to come up with a way to bake them
without Guy’s knowledge.