“I’m kind of looking forward to my new lambs now.”
But Shane didn’t seem to hear. She listened distractedly as her own laughter floated away on the wind. A myriad of conflicting emotions crossed Shane’s face as ever so slowly he closed the distance between them.
Cassie watched breathlessly as Shane’s strong, tanned hands began to unroll her pushed-up trouser leg. Swallowing hard, she stared in fascination at the darker skin of his hands contrasting sharply with the ivory skin of her legs. As he smoothed the material down over Cassie’s bare flesh, his hands lingered, caressing the curve of her leg, tantalizing her ankle and sensitive instep.
Her breath caught as he bent to retrieve her boot and slipped it over her tingling foot. Trembling now, Cassie knew he must surely feel her erratic pulse as it threatened to pound out of control.
Shane twisted around to retrieve the second boot, and Cassie tried to swallow past the large lump in her throat. When he straightened up, Cassie caught his gaze. His eyes didn’t waver, and she felt the message that emanated from them as surely as the strong hands that now grasped her other leg. Never releasing her from his scrutiny, Shane unfolded the material of her other pant leg with excruciating care.
As his hand purposely caressed her leg, Cassie thought she’d melt from the exquisite ache he was igniting. She sat perfectly still, holding her breath as he finally slipped the second boot over her foot. His hand lingered on the sensitive flesh of her ankle, the touch of his skillful fingers almost unbearable. Slowly he picked up her garters, still holding her rapt gaze with his own. He held out one to her while boldly slipping the other in his pocket.
Gazing into her delicately carved face, Shane felt a sharp pang of regret that this vulnerable-looking woman was related to the man he’d sworn to avenge. He knew she had unwittingly stepped into a fight that had dominated a generation and torn apart a community. But he also knew he could not let past promises go unfulfilled.
One thing had set him on his heels: a woman who would peel off her stockings in the middle of a meadow just to help a cow. As though they shared a moment suspended out of time—out of reach with the past—he grasped her face in his hands.
As his lips captured hers, Cassie thought inanely that the lines near his eyes were even more fascinating up close than they’d been at a distance. The warm fullness of his lips, coupled with the incredible teasing of his mustache, launched Cassie into a world of sensation she wondered if she’d forgotten or had never really known.
It seemed perfectly natural to melt against the solidity of his body. As Shane gently grasped the long tresses of hair that flowed about her shoulders, Cassie felt a tingling response ricochet through her body. When his other hand massaged the tender flesh of her neck and exposed throat, Cassie felt her own fire build.
As the kiss deepened, Cassie shivered at the feelings his touch created. At the first thrust of his tongue, Cassie felt momentary alarm, but she quickly discarded it in the persistent rush of emotion that followed.
And, if possible, she entered even closer into his embrace. His tongue washed over hers, seeking, finding. Each thrust sent a bolt of liquid desire. Feeling his tongue stroking the recesses of her mouth, she weakened, feeling the heat searing a path through her body. One hand rested of its own accord on the thick expanse of corded muscle on his shoulder. The other wound itself through the thick locks of his shaggy chestnut hair.
When Shane pressed even closer, she felt the unfamiliar hardness of his male body. Gulping, she swallowed the ache that filled her throat and traveled downward at an alarming rate. An unexpected tingle between her thighs ignited as he ground himself even closer. Heavy dregs of honeylike warmth weighted down her limbs.
When Cassie thought she’d die of the exquisite agony he was causing, he pulled away abruptly. She searched his eyes for the reason and saw a blaze of desire tinged with undisguised regret. Then his eyes hardened into the flinty coals she’d remembered from the day before.
Cassie flushed hotly. What must he think of her? That she was a frustrated old maid ready to literally throw herself at the first available man?
“Cassie, you don’t belong here. Most women would see that and sell out.”
Unaware of the demons chasing him, Cassie flinched at his words. The warmth in her limbs was replaced by a slow chilling wash of reality. Their kiss had meant nothing. He was still trying to run her off—and she could never let herself slip and forget it.
Shakily she rose to her feet unable to banish her own regret. Her emotion-filled voice was as soft as the breeze that whispered about them.
“You’re right, but then I’m not most women.”
4
Cassie tried to demur, but Albert Fredericks was insistent. “You need the help, and I have the extra manpower.” Fredericks shrugged his shoulders as he spoke. They both glanced over at Bob Jensen, the cowhand Fredericks had brought along.
Bob Jensen ducked his face, then peered up, his dull brown hair falling into his eyes. His black eyes shifted nervously about the barn.
“But I really can’t accept such a generous gesture,” Cassie argued. While pleased at his neighborly overture, she was uneasy about accepting his help. She didn’t want to be obligated to Fredericks, knowing he wanted to buy her land. The situation made her distinctly uncomfortable—especially when Fredericks stared at her with that gleam in his eye. She didn’t feel a flicker of interest.
“There’s no reason for you to attempt to run this ranch alone when I have an extra hand.”
Fredericks’s voice was as smooth as she remembered. It glided over her, making it difficult to resist without appearing ungracious.
Her attention focused again on Bob Jensen. A bright gleam of perspiration had settled over his gaunt face while his hand gripped a quirt so tightly it was a wonder the whip didn’t tear in two.
Cassie didn’t like the look of him, from the top of his greasy head to the tips of his scuffed, muddy boots. But she needed the help. Judging from what she’d witnessed in town, hiring someone else would not be easy. She debated, glancing from Fredericks’s self-assured, expectant face to Jensen’s nervous-looking one.
“Won’t nobody in town work for you,” Jensen bit out.
She stared silently at him, distaste and more than a little curiosity washing over her face.
Seeing her reaction, Jensen added with a sneer, “Not after what your uncle did.”
Both Cassie and Fredericks responded to Jensen with varying degrees of surprise: Cassie with interest, hoping for an answer to the puzzling reaction of the townspeople, and Fredericks with ill-concealed anger.
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t mean anything, my dear. He’s just—”
“I want to hear what he has to say.”
The ranch hand squirmed uneasily when he sensed Fredericks’s anger. Shrugging one shoulder, he mumbled, “Just the water thing.”
“What water thing?”
Jensen’s voice dropped lower. “Your uncle cut off enough water to kill half the valley.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“Of course you don’t. There’s no need to. Now I insist that you accept my help,” Albert pressed.
All three of them fell into startled silence when Shane filled the doorway, his voice booming into the barn.
“Insist on what, Fredericks?”
Shane had watched the hunger in Fredericks’s too-pretty face. And he didn’t like it. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he had the urge to shove Fredericks’s immaculately groomed form into the nearest pile of manure.
“Insist on what, Fredericks?” Shane repeated.
“That’s between the lady and myself.” Fredericks’s voice sounded as smooth as ever, but he couldn’t completely suppress the anger he was feeling.
“Why don’t I decide about that?” Shane countered.
Cassie viewed the two of them in astonishment. “Does anybody here remember that the question was directed to me? And that I’m still h
ere?”
All three heads swung in her direction, and Cassie suddenly felt uncomfortable under their scrutiny.
“Since you won’t be staying around long, you won’t be needing Jensen’s help,” Shane stated as though her decision had already been made. The hold on her temper dropped like whipped cream in the sun.
“Is that so, Mr. Lancer?” she demanded angrily. “Well, for your information, I plan to accept Mr. Jensen’s help.”
Fredericks’s face radiated victory while Shane’s features grew thunderous. His cheek twitched with the effort to keep his temper under control. Jensen reminded Cassie of a prize hog at the county fair. He’d won, but now he was going to the slaughterhouse for first-place honors.
Then, forgetting Fredericks and Jensen, Shane stepped close to Cassie. “That’s not a very smart choice, lady. I came over here today to tell you I’d double my offer.”
Their eyes locked, the air between them nearly crackling with tension. “But it’s my choice, Mr. Lancer—not yours! And you can keep your blasted offer!” Cassie held her ground, trying not to remember how his closeness had affected her the day before.
“It won’t be your choice for long,” he growled back.
“Is that a threat, Mister Lancer?” she taunted, wishing she weren’t so aware of his lean form near hers.
“If that’s what it takes,” he responded, his eyes darkening, his voice stem as he worked to maintain control. She was close enough for him to see the flush under her dewy skin, the softness of her hair as it framed her face, and the fire in those extraordinary eyes.
“Is that any way to talk to a lady, Shane?” Fredericks’s irritated voice interrupted them. They both stared at him, having forgotten anyone else was there.
Shane stared down from his superior height at Fredericks. “Don’t get in my way, Albert,” he warned.
Shane turned once again and held Cassie’s eyes. “We’ll finish this later.” He glanced pointedly at Fredericks as though challenging him to interfere again. “When we’re alone.”
Shane walked away, and Cassie tried to still the sudden excitement she felt at the thought of being alone again with him. Knowing it was ridiculous, she coveted the liquid fire he’d ignited, and stared at his retreating figure until it disappeared from sight.
When Albert Fredericks cleared his throat to get her attention, she blushed hotly and, meeting Fredericks’s cool gray eyes, knew her reactions to Shane had not gone unnoticed.
“I’ll help Jensen settle in, my dear. I’m sorry if my offer of help caused more harm than good.”
“Of course not. I appreciate your concern.”
“Think nothing of it. I’ll say good day to you now. Come along, Jensen.”
Jensen followed reluctantly after Fredericks. Cassie sighed and turned toward the house.
Fredericks waited until Cassie was out of sight. “Why the hell did you tell her about Luke Dalton?”
“I didn’t tell her half of what I could’ve,” Jensen answered sullenly.
“No doubt, you buffoon. But I don’t want her to find out the extent of the damage her uncle caused.”
“Hell, why not? Maybe if she knew he’d cut off everybody’s water till half of ’em died, she’d turn tail and run.”
“Your perception, as usual, is totally wrong. If I can convince her there’s no just cause for her neighbors’ actions, Cassie will sell out without a fuss. If the woman thinks she has to clear her uncle’s reputation, she’ll dig in forever.”
“Won’t do her no good no how. Folks know what ol’ man Dalton did—they ain’t gonna forget.”
“Let’s be sure of that.”
“Milly, how much flour is left in the pantry?” Cassie’s voice was muffled as she dug around the larder, checking their supplies.
“None. I need to get out another sack for today’s baking.”
Cassie tried to stifle her alarm. A cursory inventory told her what she’d feared: they’d never make it through the winter on the meager supplies that remained. Her mind searched the possibilities. She imagined she could order the supplies, but knew it would be months before the shipment arrived. And since Mr. Peabody controlled the shipping office, she wondered if trying to order the goods would simply be another futile gesture.
“Milly, where’s the seed we brought along?”
Millicent stopped at the doorway of the larder, drying her hands on her apron. “It’s in there somewhere.”
“I think we’d better put a garden in.”
“But it’s so late in the season,” Millicent protested. “And with this heat—”
“I know, Milly!” Cassie realized her tone sounded short, and gentled her voice, wishing for patience that wasn’t forthcoming. “But I think it would be wise to set in some canned goods for the winter.”
Millicent’s face still mirrored puzzlement, and Cassie rushed on. “We don’t know how the fleece sales will go. I’d feel better if we could conserve our supplies and make sure we have a good stock of canned food for the winter.”
Millicent shrugged in agreement, seeming to see the wisdom in Cassie’s logic. “Fine by me. I’ll work the soil tomorrow.”
Cassie breathed a silent sigh of relief. But she knew a garden was only a temporary measure. She had to find a solution for their survival, or social ostracism would be the least of their problems.
5
Evening star, mountain snowberry, and foxfire painted the canvas of the meadow in colors more startling than any artist’s brush could create. The rugged wildflowers pushed past coarse native grass to decorate the untamed landscape.
Tying the mare’s reins to a sturdy sapling, Cassie walked slowly through the wild grass. Breathing deeply, she wondered if she could ever get enough of the sweet-smelling air. How different this land was from her native Boston! But this particular meadow somehow embodied the differences most starkly. Here was beauty, grandeur, and, most importantly, peace—something she needed rather desperately right now.
She lamented her lack of wisdom in accepting Fredericks’s help. Admittedly, she’d been pushed into the decision by Shane’s interference. Still, it had been her choice. A choice she didn’t feel right about.
Cassie took several deep breaths. Each one filled her with the serenity that had deserted her when she’d met Shane. Reluctantly, she acknowledged that her feelings had cascaded like the great falls of Niagara since their first encounter.
When she thought of Shane’s high-handed methods with Albert Fredericks and Bob Jensen, she wanted to lash out and assert her independence. But when she remembered the day on Shane’s land when they’d birthed the calf, she wished she were still in his arms.
Shivering in the light breeze of the field, Cassie knew the goose bumps chasing up and down her flesh had nothing to do with the cool wind.
No, her emotions had taken over her body. She had retreated to this, her favorite piece of land, to reflect on the past days. She also needed to determine how Shane had managed to destroy a lifetime of rigid self-control.
Never before had she reacted so shamelessly to a kiss, to a touch. Never before had she wanted both to continue, but to what end she did not know.
Tipping her head back, Cassie studied the cloudless sky, seeking answers in the endless field of blue. Instead of answers, her mind centered on the tender feelings that cropped up as she thought of Shane.
Each nuance and glance conjured up a conflict she despaired of resolving. The logical part of Cassie’s brain told her that Shane wanted the land at any cost, and that most likely he was involved in Uncle Luke’s murder.
But her illogical heart recalled his gentle ministrations, the beguiling laugh lines etched on his face, and the kindness he had shown to both Millicent and Andrew. Milly had only high praise for Shane, while Andrew tried to imitate his every action, pleased by the adult male companionship. Cassie knew Shane could scarcely spare the time he devoted to Andrew, which made his kindness even more compelling. She could scarcely believe that her initial f
eelings had changed so drastically. Dislike had turned to attraction. Suspicion was replaced with a growing trust. Trust that made her want the feel of his arms around her again. The taste of his lips…
Dropping lightly to the grass, Cassie pulled her knees upward and tucked her chin against them. She could deny none of the contradictions Shane embodied.
Cassie plucked a stalk of prairieclover and twirled the stem, watching the breeze lift the gentle blossoms. No, she couldn’t deny the spectrum of emotions Shane had unleashed in her, least of all her desire.
Trailing one hand over the tangybush that flanked the meadow, Cassie tried to recapture the serenity she’d sought in this treasured part of her land. Instead she stilled her hand and glanced upward at the unending sky. As long as her heart yearned for a tall cowboy named Lancer, she knew with utter conviction that there would be no peace.
Hooking his arms over the top rail of the corral, Shane leaned against the splintery bark. For the past week he’d given Evan all the dust-eating, backbreaking chores he could find, and Evan had yet to complain. Worse, he’d seemed to enjoy the lowliest tasks. Shane glanced at the pawing stallion restrained in the breaking chute and hoped the ornery horse would end Evan’s love affair with ranching. Not that his brother shouldn’t respect his heritage, but hell, Evan was meant to be a lawyer. And staying back East meant he’d be safe.
Shane ran his eyes over the stallion’s sleek lines as it bucked off the saddle for the fourth time. Dodging flying hooves, a cowhand rescued the saddle and made another attempt at saddling him. The horse would make fine breed stock, Shane thought, watching the beast rear his massive head.
“He’s a beauty,” Evan stated, joining Shane at the railing.
“That he is,” Shane replied, wondering if Evan would still think the horse a beauty after he’d been bucked off a few times.
“Who’s breaking him? Petey?”
Shane turned his head in Evan’s direction. “No, I thought I’d give you a crack at him.”
Summer Rose Page 5