Sycamore Hill (45 page)

Jordan looked at me, his mouth drawn down, his eyes glittering
with remembered anger. “Can you have any idea how I felt when she told me that?
I think I could have killed her, but by that time I pitied her. She couldn’t
help what she was. She had been reared to put status above everything, to look
for a man rich enough and socially accepted enough to give her all her dreams.
We didn’t want the same things. But she could never accept that. She made my
life, and her own, a misery.” He leaned back. “I swore when she died that no
woman would ever get to me again. I’d been a fool over one once, and I wasn’t
going to be again for any price.”

The hardness of his face eased, and his mouth turned up in a
half-smile as he looked at me again. “Then you came along, stumbling along the
road like some lost, dust-covered waif. You remember what happened?”

“I fell flat on my face,” I muttered with a self-contemptuous
smile.

“And you laughed at yourself. I liked you before you ever turned
around. And when you did...He shook his head, and his smile softened. “Then I
realized who you were, and knew what would happen if you showed up in town with
me by your side. You wouldn’t have had a job waiting for you.”

“I understood that later. But you might have explained.”

“I wasn’t in an expansive mood by that time. All I could think of
was what a waste of a beautiful woman. Then I realized where my thoughts were
leading.”

I concentrated on keeping my expression cool. What Jordan was
saying made me happy, because I knew he had been attracted to me from the
first. But it changed nothing. If he found out I was pregnant, he would
remember Gwendolyn Bracklin-Reed’s tactics in trapping him. He would feel
obligated to marry me, and what attraction he had would be destroyed like the
fragile, meaningless thing it was. Hadn’t it happened once before?

“I waited around at the store to make sure you got there all
right. Then I tried to explain why I left you walking.”

“My reputation.” I smiled slightly. “I know. I realized later when
Mr. Olmstead listed the rules.”

“I wanted you to keep your job.” Jordan smiled, and there was a
certain look in his eyes that made my heart pound.

“Every time you spoke with that Boston accent of yours, I was
reminded of the fact that you were Boston-born and bred. Marriage to the right
man, love or not. But I was still attracted. I thought myself a fool all over
when I found excuses to see you. The more I saw you, the less you were like
what I expected. But it seemed every time we met, we argued for some reason or
another. Then you accused me of being Diego’s father.”

I flinched. “I’m sorry.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “I was almost glad you believed it,” he
admitted. “It was the excuse I needed to leave you alone. If you thought all
the gossip was true, then I could....” He shook his head in self-derision. “It
didn’t work. I still wanted you, whatever the town was telling you about me. I
enjoyed baiting you.” He smiled. “It was better arguing with you than making
love to anyone else.”

He stopped. His eyes were searching for something in my face. I
concentrated on showing nothing. Want, not love, I reminded myself. And Gwen’s
trick, I must remember that. Jordan must not know how I felt and what I carried
inside me.

Jordan sighed. “Then the schoolhouse. When I found you outside....”
He stopped. “And then the business about a ghost. I stayed around that night to
watch over you. When I saw the lantern was lit, I came in at a run. You were
standing there with the light behind you. I never wanted a woman so much as I
did then. I didn’t stop to think. It's a good thing you did say what you did,
or I would have made love to you there, on the floor.”

As he had in the field. I remembered what he had said there, and I
remembered what he had said at the schoolhouse. It was all true. I was a
hypocrite of the worst kind, and I had spread myself like a whore for him. I
tried desperately to steady myself.

“Abby,” Jordan said softly. “Abby, please don’t look like that.”
He leaned forward, his hand starting to reach for mine. I pressed back jerkily.
He stopped.

“I wanted you so much,” he said softly, his eyes not leaving me.
“I hurt with wanting you. I thought you felt the same, and when you pushed me
away, I got mad. I wanted to hurt you because you could just draw back from me
so easily when I needed you so damned much.” He let out his breath. “I didn’t
stop to think. When you mentioned Reva, that hurt. That you could think that of
me. God, it really hurt! And I wanted to hurt you as badly.” He searched my
face. “I did, didn’t I?” I did not answer, and he looked down at his hands.

“And then I just left you alone... and vulnerable. And Hallender
damn near killed you. My God,” he said shakily, and he looked up at me with
tortured eyes. His hand shook slightly as he reached across to lightly touch my
face. “It still shows where he hit you.”

I drew back from his touch, afraid of what I would show. He felt
guilty about what had happened to me. I could see that. But it still changed
nothing. I forced a smile. “I’m all right now, really. You mustn’t feel you
were to blame for what happened. That’s ridiculous. What did you think you
should have done? Remained there in the hills, guarding me? Hallender waited
until you were gone. He wasn’t going to do anything as long as there was a
chance someone would see him. So don’t take any responsibility.” I did not want
him to feel guilty or obligated in any way.

“There’s something else I have to tell you,” Jordan said slowly.
When I had drawn away from him, he had leaned back, careful to keep his hands
on his legs so that I knew he wasn’t going to try and touch me again. He let
out his breath, his eyes moving uneasily away from mine. He moved restlessly,
seeming suddenly very taut and discomforted. All his self-assurance had gone.
“About what happened at the river...” he said slowly, and I flinched.

“I’d rather not talk about that, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.”

He shifted again, and his fingers coursed through his hair and
then rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes flickered to mine and then away. I
frowned. This was a side of Jordan I did not know. He was afraid, and more, he
was embarrassed.

“I had a plan,” he sighed, the words dragging out.

“A plan?”

He did not speak for a moment, and I watched his face in growing
confusion.

“Things couldn’t have been worse between us after I came to see you
in your room after Hayes reinstated Diego. You remember that night?”

How could I ever forget? I thought.

“I knew something was going on between you and Ross. He let it
slip to me that he knew you were tutoring Diego, and he couldn’t have found out
from me. Everyone else on the ranch was careful not to say anything either,
knowing what it would mean to you if word got out. So that left you. You were
seeing Ross, and you trusted him enough to tell him. You trusted Ross Persall,
but you couldn’t trust me. I was jealous as hell. So I made a plan.”

He paused again, frowning. “I knew you responded to me after that
night in your room.” My face turned red. “I wanted you,” he went on, “and I
sure as hell didn’t want Ross Persall getting anywhere near you. I thought if I
could just get you away from town and alone for a while, things would take
their natural course. I thought everything had worked out. And then you said
you hated me. I slapped you. You ran away.”

“I slapped you first.”

“Hell,” he breathed. “Anyway, I thought if I’d succeeded in
getting you pregnant, you’d have to come to me.”

I stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent “oh.”

“I figured it worked well enough for women getting what they
wanted, it ought to work as well for a man. Despicable, I know,” he said,
reddening. “But I….” He stopped. “Oh, God, there’s no excuse for that, and I
don’t blame you for hating me.”

“But I don’t hate you. Just tell me why you wanted me to come to
you,” I pleaded, needing to know. I was filled with hope.

For a moment Jordan did not answer. Then he looked into my eyes.
“Do you have to go, Abby? Couldn’t you change your mind and come back? I
wouldn’t push you.” He stopped and shook his head. “No, I can’t promise I
wouldn’t.” His voice was very dry, and he smiled mockingly.

“Jordan, please. Tell me why.”

“I guess you deserve your pound of flesh....”

“Jordan....” I leaned forward, putting my hands on his legs. He
flinched as though in pain.

“I love you,” he said simply.

“Oh, Jordan. Was that so hard?”

His eyes moved over my face, and his expression changed
drastically. He leaned forward so that our faces were close. “Abby,” he said,
warningly, and I laughed joyously.

“I love you!” I cried.

Neither one of us moved for a full second. Then we were kissing
hungrily, unable to get close enough, wanting to be skin to skin and even
closer. It was Jordan who finally drew back. He was trembling, and he gave me a
slightly baleful smile. “We’d better stop,” he rasped. “We can’t be more than a
mile from Oakland, and I’d hate to shock the driver or get arrested.”

I laughed again. Joy was bursting inside me like Fourth of July
fireworks.

“I thought you looked happy when you first opened your eyes and
looked at me a while ago,” Jordan said. “Then you went all cold, and I didn’t
know what to think. But I thought anything was worth trying to get you to come
back.”

“I thought you’d guessed why I left.”

“Guessed what?” He frowned.

My laughter softened and stopped. “That your scheme worked.”

His brows drew down. “What do you mean?”

I smiled and moved his hand over my abdomen. His eyes dropped
sharply, and then he looked up at me. “You’re pregnant?” I nodded, now slightly
afraid of how he would take the news.

“That’s why you were sick,” he said. “I thought it was nerves.”
Then his eyes narrowed and glittered with arrogant accusation. “And you were
leaving! My God, Abby!”

I spread my hands. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. I thought
you... Oh, Jordan, don’t you remember what you said to me that day at the
river?”

“Before you ran off?” he asked, thinking back.

“Yes.”

“Not really. I never did understand what made you turn on me like
that. Especially after—”

“You said I wasn’t at all a lady. You said—”

He put his fingers on my lips, and his mouth curved wryly. I
flushed, and he went on. “Abby, the last place in the world a man wants his
woman to behave like a lady is in bed... or in a field next to a river.” His
eyes were laughing. He pulled me forward, giving me a hard, punishing kiss.
Then he drew back. His eyes grew serious.

“I half expected you to go cold on me that day, to just ward off
my efforts to make love to you. But, my God, you came alive! I’ve never felt so
wonderful. Like I owned the whole damned universe as long as I had you. And
then you hit me. You looked at me like you hated me, and you ran away. I
couldn’t understand it. One minute, hot and giving everything to me, the next,
cold and hating.”

“But I thought....”

“Never mind. I understand now, I should have been able to figure
it out then.” His smile became teasing. “I assure you, honey, you’re a lady
everywhere you ought to be.” He drew me onto his lap and held me tightly. Then
his hand moved down to my abdomen. “You’re feeling all right now?” he asked,
his voice full of concern.

“I feel wonderful,” I said truthfully. What was a little morning
sickness compared to this!

“And you were leaving,” he said shakily, faintly accusing.
“Without even telling me about the baby. Where in hell were you going?”

“I hadn’t decided. Oregon. Washington. I didn’t know. Just away.”
I couldn’t stop touching him, looking at him, and I knew that the feeling was
mutual.

“If Matthew Hayes hadn’t ridden out to the ranch this morning, I
don’t know when I would have come to town and found out you’d gone. I might
never have found you again. And I would never have known about our baby.” He
held me tighter. “By damn,” he said harshly, “I ought to beat you!”

I chuckled softly. “I’d rather you sought other ways to punish me,
if you think you must.”

He cupped my chin, tilting my face up to his. His eyes were
brilliant with laughter and comprehension. “You call that punishment?”

I tried to look serious. “Isn’t it?”

His mouth trailed down the side of my neck. “Maybe I’m not
understanding you. Maybe you should tell me exactly what you mean,” he teased.

“I always tell my students to use their imaginations.”

“I’ve got a vivid imagination,” he breathed against my mouth. We
did not speak for a long time. Then Jordan lifted me and set me back on the
seat opposite him. “You’d better stay put,” he said hoarsely. “The stage driver
be damned.”

“What do we do when we get to Oakland?” I asked, thinking of a
wedding ceremony.

Jordan laughed. “What do you think?” Jordan was not thinking about
a wedding. What he was thinking was very obvious.