Sandra Chastain (12 page)

“Pretty Boy!” The bull ambled into view, gave a snort and pawed the ground for a moment, then stuck his head between the posts and began nibbling at the cake in Pixie’s hand. Rusty ran out the patio door and began to cross the yard in a rush.

She decided not to call out. Any word might set the bull off, and Pixie could be hurt. Even now, as hard as they’d tried, nobody had been able to get a hand on the wildly excitable animal. Yet now he seemed perfectly content to lick Pixie’s hand and listen to her chatter. Rusty drew to a stop.

“And then, Pretty Boy, my daddy and Miss Rusty are going to get married and have lots of babies. We’ll live here forever, and I’ll never have any more
bad dreams. Rusty is a good witch, you know. She makes the bad dreams go away. If you would be nice, she’d make you smile too. Now drink your milk.” She giggled. “I sneaked some of Eugene’s tonic in it. It’s good for what ails you.”

The child held out the cup, and the bull began slurping noisily. “That’s enough now. I have to save some for the kitties.” Pixie patted the animal on the head and began walking down the fence toward the barn. “I have to go now, Pretty Boy. When the kitties are strong enough, I’ll bring them out to play with you.”

Rusty watched as Pixie disappeared into the barn. The bull stood watching, too, then gave a satisfied swish of his tail and walked slowly away. Rusty wouldn’t have believed what she’d just seen if she hadn’t been there. The bull was gentle and easy with the child. But then everyone responded to Pixie that way, including herself.

Turning back to the kitchen, Rusty found Letty stirring something on the stove and singing loudly. It took Rusty a minute to identify the song as “I’m Getting Married in the Morning.”

“Letty, I hate to interrupt your concert, but do we have a litter of kittens in the barn?”

“If they’re still alive. Doak said they came night before last, puny-looking little things. Their mother crawled in there half starved. He tried to feed them, but he doesn’t think they look too good. Why?”

“Pixie appears to be feeding them.”

“Oh, yes. She asked for extra jelly cake and milk. Those little things can’t eat yet, but I didn’t think it would hurt her to try.”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t only the kittens she was feeding the cake to.”

“Oh? Well, if she wanted seconds, she only had to ask.”

“No, it wasn’t for her either. She fed that cake to the bull. And you know what? He licked it from her hand.”

Letty dropped her spoon and turned to Rusty in alarm. “You mean that creature from hell you brought here?”

“That’s what I said. Do you by any chance have any of Eugene’s Tundra Tonic in here?”

“Eh—well, maybe I do. Why?”

“I want to have a look at it.”

Letty looked a bit guilty as she reached under the sink and pulled out a long-necked brown beer bottle with a cork. “Humm, seems a bit lighter.”

Rusty took the bottle and opened it. She took a big sniff. There was little odor. She pursed her lips, took a deep breath, and turned the bottle up, taking a sip of the clear liquid. There was little taste until the liquid hit her stomach, and then she knew.

“Moonshine! Eugene’s Tundra Tonic is pure moonshine. I didn’t know anybody made this stuff anymore.”

“I’m sure you’re wrong,” Letty protested. “It’s a special tonic Eugene brews from Alaskan herbs and berries. He got the recipe from the Eskimos.”

“I’ll just bet he did. No wonder that bull became so docile. No wonder he ate out of Pixie’s hand. He’s becoming addicted.” Rusty slammed the bottle on the table and strobe out the kitchen door toward the barn. She’d just have a little talk with
Eugene, and with Doak, and with Cade. This was no way to tame a wild animal.

By the time she reached the barn, the warm glow in her stomach had intensified, setting off waves of fullness that undulated throughout her system, forcing her to slow her step. Inside the barn she heard Pixie’s voice and followed it to a back corner of the hayloft.

There she found the child with the mama cat in her lap and the kittens nursing contentedly. The mama cat was lapping the last of the milk from the cup that Pixie was holding.

Rusty kneeled down beside her. “Pixie, do you know what’s in Eugene’s tonic?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s the essence of life. He puts it in a bottle, and when a person, or an animal is feeling poorly, he gives them a dose. They always feel better. Look at the mama kitty. She’s purring because she’s very happy now.”

Rusty took a long look at the cat. She did appear to be happy. She certainly didn’t look like the puny cat that Doak had described. Neither did her kittens, whose coats shone with a slick glow. Of course, that was a possible result of drinking moonshine. After all, it was made from sugar and fermented materials, all ingredients that could build up an animal’s strength. Rusty shook her head. She’d have to go to Cade. There was no other answer. She couldn’t have Eugene parceling out alcohol as medicine.

She stood up, ruffling Pixie’s hair as she moved away. For now, that would have wait. She had to get ready for the Cattleman’s Ball. She’d take up the issue of the Tundra Tonic afterward—providing
Cade remembered that he was to be her escort.

Three hours later, as Rusty walked down the hallway to the center steps at the curve of the U-shaped house, she met Cade McCall at the top.

He’d remembered.

Cade McCall in jeans and boots was spectacular. But Cade McCall in a tuxedo was mesmerizing. Except for his white shirt everything was black—his jacket, his trousers, his formal boots. The only color he wore was his tie, a flame-colored satin scarf looped into a knot at the neck and falling down to touch the top of the V of his brocade vest. He looked like a man of danger. She could only stare at him and wait.

Cade walked slowly toward Rusty. Tonight she was wearing a royal-blue lace and sequin dress that covered her as though it were her skin. Only because of the slit in the side that reached almost to her hip could she walk. Like a woman from a painting, she wore her copper-colored hair piled on her head, held there with ebony Spanish combs. She wore no jewelry. It would have paled into obscurity in contrast with her hair and the vibrant color of her skin.

Even as they stood—opposite, silent, observing—he could sense something different about her. She was proud as always, defiant, but there was an uncertainty that touched him. He released a deep breath. There was no stopping the wrench inside his chest. Every time he came close to her, it seemed to rip a little more. The pain had long ago given way to a kind of wonder, afraid yet to make itself known but simmering there until Cade was ready to acknowledge its presence.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said.

“You’re very handsome,” she answered.

“You won’t be ashamed to be seen with an oil-field roustabout?”

“Not if you’re not ashamed to be seen with a clumsy ranch hand,” she said softly.

He held out his hand. “I’ll be the most envied man there.”

She placed her rough hand in his rougher one. “If you let one of those man-hungry women lasso you, I’ll—I’ll—”

“What will you do?”

“Maybe I’d better put my brand on you right now,” she said, and pulled both his arms around her as she lifted herself on tiptoes.

“Oh, how do you plan to do that?”

“Like this.” When she kissed him, he knew that she was right. He was being branded. It might not be visible, but the brand was there, and it glowed brighter with her every touch.

“Daddy! Daddy! You look like Prince Charming,” Pixie called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Eh, yep.” Eugene beamed broadly. “Reckon he does look pretty good. ’Course he’s got a good-looking woman to look good for. You two had better come along. Your pumpkin is waiting.”

“Aw, Eugene.” Pixie grinned. “That’s not a pumpkin out there. It’s a big shiny car. And Doak’s wearing a uniform too.”

Reluctantly, Cade pulled away, sliding his hand properly under Rusty’s arm. “Shall we go, my dear?”

“Of course, Prince. I can’t wait to see what kind of pumpkin Doak’s driving.”

“Don’t say a thing. Eugene and Doak have been
working all day. And it wasn’t easy because the wash water kept freezing until they decided to bring kerosene heaters inside the garage to warm the place up. They may have to repaint the walls, but this car shines.”

Rusty slid her arms into the fur coat that Letty was holding while Cade donned the dark overcoat that Eugene held out. The addition of a black Stetson made Cade just about the most exciting man that Rusty had ever encountered. For the first time in her life she couldn’t wait to attend a social event in the city—and show Cade off.

They stepped out into the crisp night. Snow was beginning to fall, sprinkling the night with huge soft flakes that fell like glitter in the headlights of the car. It was the Cadillac, as bright as new. Doak, standing beside it, was wearing a black suit and a captain’s hat. As a chauffeur, he presented an interesting picture. But as a conspirator, he was beaming in pleasure.

Doak assisted them inside. Climbing in the front, he made a production of closing the dividing glass and plunging the back into darkness by closing his door.

“Privacy,” Cade commented wryly, and glanced out the window. “Is the snow likely to interfere with our drive?”

“No, we’re only driving over to Coyote Wells. We’ll catch a ride in with Will Fleming in his plane. Flying will be easier than driving.”

Until now, Cade had felt good about the evening. Since he’d learned that Will Fleming had been his rival, he wasn’t so certain how he felt. From a country boy back in Tennessee so many years ago, he’d come a long way. His trip into Salt Lake City
to rent the tux had been interesting. The young woman in the store knew at once what he wanted and helped him put together the complete outfit. She even ran down to the mall to a department store to find the silk scarf they used as a tie. He bought the boots and Stetson with the last of his personal funds. Escorting Rusty to the ball might work. It would make it plain to everyone that Rusty Wilder was the future Mrs. Cade McCall, along with the other little surprise he’d arranged.

“Tell me who I’m going to meet.”

“Well, of course there’s Will Fleming. But you’ve already met him and Ann-Marie, his wife.”

“His wife? You considered an affair with a married man?”

“I didn’t say I considered. I just said he offered. And he wasn’t married at the time.”

“And what else am I likely to have to deal with?”

“You mean at the ball?”

“That too. But what I’m primarily interested in is how you expect to explain me.”

“I won’t. You’re with me. That’s all they need to know.”

“I don’t think so. The way you look tonight, I don’t want to have to fight off any jealous liquored-up old boyfriends.”

“ ‘Old boyfriends’? That’s a laugh. When I was in the seventh grade, I was already a foot taller than any boy in class, and by the time they grew up, I wasn’t interested anymore. Somehow, going from bean pole to beautiful was never meant to be.”

“I find that hard to believe, Willadean.”

“God, don’t call me that. That’s all I need.”

Cade glanced at Doak in the front seat. He
couldn’t see, and the partition kept their conversation private. Cade slid his arm across the back of the car seat and touched Rusty’s shoulder. “I sort of like that name. It makes you seem human.”

“You think I’m not?” She turned to look at him, imagining in the darkness that she could see the dark eyes and serious drawn brows that came with the crooked smile she was sure he was wearing.

“You know what I thought the first time I saw you, standing in the middle of that airport?”

“Yes—I mean, I don’t know.”

“I said, ‘Thank you, God, for not sending me a Mack truck.’ ”

She let out a laugh and leaned back into the curve of his arm. “Is that what you were expecting?”

“Either that or some love-starved widow with six chins and a beard. What I got was fire and brimstone, a woman that any hot-blooded man would kill for.”

“And are you hot-blooded?”

“I am now. Before I came here, I was accused of being an ice man, distant and hard.” He put his other arm around her waist and pulled her across his lap at the same time his lips found the bare skin of her neck and began to move wickedly across the top of her breasts.

She gasped. “I can say part of that is true, anyhow.” She wriggled against him, feeling him pressing against her, and whispered, “There is definitely nothing—soft about you.”

His hand slipped up beneath her coat to the top of her dress and beneath it. “I’m damned glad that isn’t true about you. I like your soft parts.” He was speaking in a gruff voice, barely above a whisper.
He found her nipple, stiff against his fingertips, trembling beneath his touch.

“Hummmph.” Doak cleared his throat. “The Flying Gull is just ahead.”

Cade let out a long reluctant breath. “Do we have to go, Redhead?”

“We do.” Her voice wasn’t any stronger.

“All right,” Cade agreed. He drew Rusty’s dress back over her breasts and she forced herself to sit up. “But there’s one thing I think we ought to make clear, right up front.”

“What’s that?” Rusty took a tube of lipstick from her evening bag and tried to repair the damage she’d done to her makeup. She thought a moment, pulled a tissue from the bag, and turned to wipe the evidence from Cade’s mouth.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m what?”

She stopped, caught by complete surprise at his words. After what had happened a few nights ago, she’d expected him to disappear. He hadn’t. But he hadn’t been back to her bed either. Now he was suggesting that they make their arrangement public. She was confused.

“You’re the future Mrs. Cade McCall. I want people around here to know that, and I think you ought to have an engagement ring to make it official.” He pulled a ring box from his pocket and handed it to her.

“But Cade, you didn’t have to do this. I mean, what if I don’t get pregnant? What happens in six months?”

“We have six months to find out, don’t we? And in the meantime, I’ve decided that I’m going to
earn my pay. I’ve never taken on a job that I didn’t do well. I don’t intend to start now.”