Feeling uncomfortable, Dixie tried to find some excuse to leave. But she was still hungry, growing more relaxed and tired by the second, and struggled to remind herself that she didn’t care who people paired Ty Kincaid with as long as it wasn’t her.
“Been home this past year, Ty?” Greg asked as the tense silence grew around the table.
“No call to. My brothers don’t need me there.”
“Bet your ma misses you plenty,” Livia said, setting down her fork. She sent a quick searching gaze around at everyone’s plate, and satisfied that no one needed immediate attention, she spoke again to Ty.
“When Elwin and Gilby helped the Duncans make their gather this spring, I missed them terribly the month that they were gone. Couldn’t stand worrying about them, not knowing if they were eating right, keeping warm or even watching out for each other like they promised. Your ma—”
“Livia,” Ty interrupted, “no one makes hunter’s stew near as good as you. I’d sure like another helping.”
“All right. I won’t say another word. But you think about what I did say.”
Dixie took it all in, fending off the questions that rose about Ty. Why did he drift if he had a home? Lord, it made no sense to her why he would want to sleep in the open when a roof waited and family beneath it. She sipped her now-cooled coffee, but even the pungent brew couldn’t keep her awake. Twice she smothered yawns behind her hand until Greg caught her.
“Livia, fix this young woman a bed in the loft. She’s about ready to fall face first in her plate.”
Protests didn’t do Dixie a bit of good. Her suggestion that she could sleep in the stable was refused. Dragging her weary body up the stairs to the loft, she barely managed to murmur good-night and thank Livia before sleep claimed her.
Long after the children had climbed the stairs to the loft and Livia had drawn the blanket across to seek her bed, Ty spoke softly to Greg, telling him what had happened. But his thoughts were with Dixie and how she looked when he had snared her gaze with his in the mirror. For a brief, unguarded moment, he had seen a reflection of the same hunger that prowled his body and left him…restless.
There was a softness to her, so at odds with the image that others saw, and he found that he wanted to protect that softness. A strange notion for him to have after he told her that he didn’t want a woman to complicate his life.
But he wanted Dixie Rawlins.
Didn’t make a lick of sense. He couldn’t figure any good reasons for it.
Yet his mind supplied reasons as Greg poured them another drink from his whiskey jug and made a silent toast.
Ty liked her independence. Her mouth was so damn kissable. He could feel himself growing hard just thinking about her mouth and how softly she had yielded to his kiss, how the fit of her body seemed made for his.
“Come on, Ty, have another drink,” Greg whispered. “You got a look in your eye like a bull ready to jump the fence. Livia won’t take kindly to you joining Dixie in the loft.”
“I wasn’t…” Ty looked up as he held out his cup. “Aw, hell, Greg, she’s got me feeling like a green kid.”
“Better for you to figure why someone was carrying a picture of her.”
“I’ve been over and over everything that happened in the saloon. And the little, damn little, that Dixie told me. She’s been gambling for gold to buy information for some time now. I figure she’s hunting someone.” Ty closed his eyes, letting images form and suddenly he sat up. “The man with the scarred hand. Of the three men in the saloon he was the only one that held her attention.”
“You figure it was his saddlebags you found that tintype in?”
Ty stared into the glowing coals. “She asked if I thought she was in cahoots with them? Could be they had a falling out. I know the picture was of her. Younger, softer, but Dixie just the same. Those hombres were snake mean.” He met Greg’s concerned look. “Doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
“You ever figure she might be hitched to him? Man would carry around a picture of his wife.”
“No. I’d stake my life on that. She ain’t married.”
Greg set his cup down and stretched, yawning widely. “We’ll both sleep on it. Morning always makes things clear. Your lady’s got some secrets for sure. You bet on that.” He disappeared behind the blanket and moments later his boots hit the floor.
The creak of the rope spring told Ty that his friend was in bed. Your lady…Ty couldn’t help repeating the words. He eyed the jug that Greg left him, but whiskey wasn’t what he wanted. Drinking hadn’t dulled his need, if anything, the liquor had sharpened it.
Cradling his head with his good arm, Ty lay down on the rug before the dying fire and stared up at the planked ceiling. Secrets. Dixie, from what he had learned today, had plenty and she wasn’t going to share them with him anytime soon.
Strange thing was, he was beginning to want her to.
Don’t get involved.
Too late, he answered the small warning voice in his mind. I am involved. Knee-deep, and sinking fast.
Fact was, he wanted the lady’s secrets. Wanted them as much as he wanted to explore the lady’s body. He needed to rid himself of a growing hunger that was prowling deep inside him like a hungry wolf circling prey.
His sigh was deep and tinged with frustration.
Between the throb of his shoulder and the ache in his groin, he didn’t think he was going to get much needed sleep.
When he recognized the creak on the stair as more than the settling of the house, he knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep at all.
Chapter Six
Ty wasn’t surprised to find Dixie creeping through the kitchen to the back door. He waited until she had her hand on the latch before he stepped out from the deep shadows of the doorway.
“Had a bad dream? Or were you thirsty, Dixie?”
She spun around and he heard the slap of leather against the door.
“Disappearing like a thief in the night? Didn’t you learn any manners at your father’s knee? Ain’t polite,” he offered, coming toward her, “to run off when folks invite you into their home to spend the night.”
Dixie wasn’t about to lie to him. She didn’t want another confrontation with him, either, but it seemed that lady luck had other wishes.
“I just thought it best for me to leave quietly.”
“All this running away you do, Dixie, is getting mighty hard on my constitution.”
“Just one more reason…” She lost her breath for a few moments when he crowded her against the door. She managed to duck her head before he made another move. “Like I was saying, it’s just one more reason for me to move on. No goodbyes, no see you around, just a short day together.”
“It was more than that, and you know it.”
To her surprise, he reached down and unhooked the latch. She ignored the way his hand skimmed up her hip before he urged her outside in front of him. She shivered in the night cold of the mountains and waited for him to close the door. There was no sense in trying to run now. She had a feeling that wounded or not, Kincaid would only come after her until he had his answers.
“It’s too damn cold to stand out here and talk.” He grabbed hold of her arm with his right hand and held her beside him. “And make no mistake, we are going to talk. Take the lantern down. The stable should be warm enough.”
Dixie found the metal case of wooden matches above the doorframe. She lit the lantern and held it to light their path. Once inside the stable, they both ignored the restless stampings of the horses and the penned orphaned calves. She followed Ty to an empty stall.
“Hay’s clean.” He released her arm and took hold of the lantern. “Go on in and make yourself comfortable. We both know you’re not riding out tonight.” He didn’t even bother to look at her as he hung the lantern from a protruding nail on the post of the stall. Kicking up some hay against the wooden stall slats, he settled himself prone in the thick, fragrant hay and patted the place next to him.
&
nbsp; “Join me. You already proved you can hold your own with me more than once.”
Her chin rose a notch, more for the challenge of his look than for his words. She let her gaze roam over him, noting the boxy fit of the shirt he wore. It was the same faded gray as the one Greg had worn at supper. But if he had borrowed the pants, it must have been from one of the older Rutland boys, for the neatly patched material gloved his long legs like a second skin.
Ty grinned and cradled his head with his good arm.
Tossing aside her saddlebags, Dixie refused to acknowledge what else her gaze had taken in, but her body responded with that same strange mixture of excitement and warning that Ty was fully aroused and doing nothing to hide it from her.
She chose to sit across from him. And his grin deepened as if he knew why.
All she could do was level a stare that had kept more than one man away.
Ruefully Dixie admitted that Ty Kincaid was not most men. He wasn’t like any man she had met before. The knowledge didn’t help her. It left her in a quandary. How was she to deal with him?
Ty’s grin disappeared beneath her stare. But the hard level look in her eyes had little to do with it. The light cast by the lantern overhead fell upon her face, and he saw for himself the bruised look of her features, and the deep shadows of exhaustion beneath her eyes. If he pushed her too hard now, he would have the answers he wanted. But he would earn Dixie’s hate right along with them.
“You don’t give your trust easily, do you?”
Averting her gaze, Dixie shook her head. Is this what he wanted from her? Trust?
“We’ve been through a lot together in a short time. Yeah, I know,” he added when she shot him an accusing look, “that’s what you wanted. Short and sweet. But it didn’t turn out that way and you’re stuck with me.”
“Why? You’re here with friends. We part company and I’ll take care of my own problems.”
“Horse stealing is our problem. Being shot at happened to both of us. I don’t take kindly to folks who shoot at me. Matter of fact, you know I usually shoot back.”
Dixie scooted back until she could lean against the side of the stall. Heaving a sigh, she stretched her legs out in front of her. “If I tell you what you want to know, will you let me leave then?”
“You offering me a bargain?”
“Of sorts,” she answered, sifting hay through her fingers. Keeping her gaze focused on her hands, she added, “You’ve got mule in you, Kincaid. I admit, I don’t know what to do about you. You saved my life. Twice now. I can’t give you more than my thanks. Why you think I need you around is a fool’s race to figure out. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”
“You keep repeating that and soon you might start believing it.”
“What do you want from me?” Tossing aside the pieces of hay she had toyed with, Dixie closed her eyes. She tilted her head back against the stall and listened to the small rustlings of the animals as they once more settled down. The silence that followed soothed her. She could feel the tension ease from aching muscles. But as her breathing regulated itself to that of Ty’s, a new awareness of him forced her to open her eyes and look at him.
“Why did you help me out in the saloon?”
“Didn’t like the odds against you.”
“I was cheating them, Kincaid.”
“I know that. Figure you cheated me a time or two. I’d like to know why you needed the gold.”
“I know that you’ve heard I buy information with the gold I win. Information about a man with a scarred hand.” She watched him closely but only found mild interest in his eyes. Clearing her throat, she wondered just how much to tell him.
“You were right to say that I don’t trust anyone. There hasn’t been anyone for me to trust since my father was killed. Not one of our good neighbors wanted to get involved.”
Her laugh was soft but filled with bitterness as she once more closed her eyes. Emotion seemed to have been drained from her voice.
“The best advice they all gave me was to marry some man and forget what happened. I couldn’t forget. I didn’t want to forget. And I lost it all, land, cattle, belongings, just because I was a woman who fought alone.”
“A very tired woman,” Ty observed, fighting not to take her into his arms, fighting every instinct that shouted a warning over and over for him not to get involved with her. “Tired and about at the end of your rope.”
It was not meant to be a question and she let it pass. She couldn’t summon an argument. She was indeed at the end of her rope.
“How did you meet Greg?”
Sensing her need to distract him from probing her secrets, Ty figured to bide his time and answered her.
“Greg bought cattle from us and I volunteered to help drive them up here. He offered me a job to stay on and work the place with him. Had no reason to go back home so I stayed through the winter and spring with him and Livia.”
“Is that why he said that he owed you?” It was not the question she wanted to ask him. Dixie had a burning curiosity to know why Ty had left home to drift. The flat tone of his voice didn’t invite any questioning in that area. But she wished he was more forthcoming.
“It’s all in the past. Can’t change the way a person thinks. Greg figures he owes me, I don’t. End of the matter.”
“And his sister Jessie? Wasn’t she here, too?”
“Damn!” he muttered, turning to his side, resting his head on his crooked elbow. “You’re worse than a barber probing a sore tooth.” She merely looked at him, no hint of a smile on her face, just a plea in her eyes that he keep talking.
“Jessie came in the spring after their aunt passed on. And before you ask, I never entertained the notion of her and me getting hitched. Never met a woman yet I wanted to spend more than a night with.”
“Then why not let me go, Ty?” she asked softly, once more shutting him out by closing her eyes.
“Told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I’ll be damned if I know why. Could be I’m curious. Could be you arouse me like a house on fire and I’m hoping to put it out.”
“Could be,” she added, “you’re a liar, too.”
“I’ll admit I’ve done my share of lying. But Dixie,” he noted in a suddenly husky voice, “I’m not lying to you. And I’ve answered your questions, so now you answer a few of mine.”
There was a telltale tensing of her body, although she didn’t move, didn’t open her eyes. Ty watched her and he patiently waited.
“If I wanted to, I guess I could piece together all the things you didn’t tell me. Who wanted to run your father off his land? What kind of trouble did he make that neighbors didn’t help you? Then, if I really wanted to discover all the secrets you’re keeping from me, I’d find out where you came from and exactly what happened that night.”
With a weary sigh that she didn’t even attempt to hide from him, Dixie clasped her hands on her lap and leveled a hard look at him. No matter how he said it, Ty asked her to trust him.
“I let him go,” she said after a few minutes.
“Who?”
“The man who murdered my father. He was one of the three men at the saloon. I had him in front of me, but…but I…” She stopped and shrugged. “Lost my chance and I can’t go back now.”
With relentless force, the hardships she had endured in her quest for revenge slammed into her. The fact that she had let her father’s murderer escape was brought back with a renewed fury.
“Dixie?”
He was at her side, cupping her chin to lift her face. She appeared beaten, and he felt a hate for the man who had brought this spirited woman so low. As much as he had wanted answers from her, he didn’t want to see her vulnerable. Kneeling beside her, Ty could no more stop his thumb from brushing her cheek than he could have made the night into day.
She heard the whisper of her name on his lips once more, heard it in the hushed intimacy of the enclosed space that locked the world out for a little while. His touch was
gentle, and after so long without it, she craved the gentleness.
His thigh brushed hers. Ty felt a hot shaft of desire go through him. He met her startled gaze for a timeless moment. He knew that whatever was happening between them was more than a need for sex. What he was feeling was too powerful, too sudden and too damn confusing.
He caressed the curve of her jaw, tilting her chin up a bit more, his thumb rubbing over the corner of her mouth. He absorbed the warmth of her lips with his touch, heard the sharp intake of her breath that rushed quickly over his hand when she released it. He couldn’t hide what he was feeling when his gaze locked with hers.
He wasn’t about to even try.
His thumb seemed to have a mind of its own, repeatedly brushing over her lower lip until her mouth parted slightly. Still holding her gaze with his, her eyes filled with a darkness that beckoned him, he lowered his head, stopping just short of joining his mouth to hers.
“I know you’re gonna tell me to stop. Gonna tell me that I shouldn’t kiss you. That you don’t want me to. I know all that,” he whispered, sliding his hand beneath the heavy braid of her hair to cup the back of her neck. A half smile creased his lips when he felt the slight tremor of her body caress his.
“I know. And I’m going to do it anyway ’cause it’s all I’ve thought about all day. Kissing—” he breathed the word over her mouth, barely touching his lips to hers “—you.” A shudder rose from deep inside her. Dixie found herself leaning toward him, wanting to deepen the breath-stealing contact of his lips touching hers. Her eyes drifted closed, her lids suddenly heavy, but she needed the protection of hiding behind them to dim the blaze of passion that sparked from his.
No man had ever wanted her this way. She could feel the trembling that shook her body transfer itself to his. She knew she had been seduced by the husky, rich intimacy of his voice. Closing her eyes didn’t help her deny the exquisite torment of waiting for his kiss.
She reeled with awareness of his very strong, very lean body only a breath away. Her wildly beating pulse warned how dangerous this was. How dangerous he was. She was so close that each labored breath lifted her breasts into his chest. Even through their shirts his chest felt hard and warm. She could feel her nipples tighten in response to the contact, sending fragile threads of pleasure winding downward to flutter deep in her belly.
Once a Maverick Page 6