“Hello, there,” Victoria called out, pulling up on the reins and reaching for the hand brake.
Cassie replied with a smile of her own as Victoria dismounted.
“I haven’t forgotten you. We took a short trip to El Paso. How’ve you been?”
Cassie was tempted to blurt out the truth. Instead she answered with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. “Just the usual amount of work.”
Victoria grimaced at the foul-smelling mixture at Cassie’s feet and wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Do you suppose I could drag you away from all this?”
“Gladly. Let’s get out of this heat,” Cassie replied, gesturing to the well-worn swing resting in the shade of the porch. As they settled on the glider, Victoria pulled a small package from her reticule.
“Just a little something for you and Millicent,” she said breezily.
Touched, Cassie stared at the pale, lemon-colored tissue.
“Go ahead and open it,” Victoria urged.
Cassie opened the package with trembling fingers. She was unaccustomed to surprise gifts. Since her father’s death, there had never been money for such luxuries. Peeling away the tissue paper, she revealed two rose-colored soaps and a midnight-blue tin. Lifting one of the soaps, she breathed in the fragrant scent and closed her eyes in delight.
“Heavenly,” she murmured.
Unable to resist, she pried open the tin and discovered an equally fragrant skin cream. To her dismay, tears prickled behind her eyelids.
“Why, whatever is the matter, Cassie?” Victoria’s concerned voice only weakened Cassie’s resolve.
“It’s just that things have been so difficult.” Cassie looked into Victoria’s normally cheerful face. She wished it were possible to confide her disappointment in not seeing Shane and to guess aloud if their lovemaking had meant so little to him.
Instead she contented herself with pouring out her other troubles. “I never dreamed it would be so hard.”
Cassie thought of the outbreak of mange that had threatened the flock and forced them to put down four of their best ewes. Periodically they found sheep killed in the pastures. And each time Cassie wondered when her neighbors would tire of killing animals and turn on them—especially since she’d been receiving poison pen letters warning her to leave before it was too late.
She still hadn’t found a solution to getting supplies. She checked her dwindling larder every day, horribly worried as their rations continued to shrink. And Andrew’s growing friendship with Jacob Robertson’s son, Zack, disturbed her. Cassie remembered clearly the day Jacob Robertson had threatened her. She hoped Zack and Andrew’s friendship wouldn’t turn ugly. Cassie thought of the calm of her life in Boston; the comparison was stark.
“Are you ready to give up?” Victoria questioned quietly.
Cassie swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “Well, no. I just didn’t know we’d have to fight for every single thing.” She forced back her tears.
“Texas is different from the East, I’ll grant you that. But I think you’ll find it worth fighting for. I can’t see you trading your independence to spend your life closeted in a classroom.”
Cassie smiled at the mental picture Victoria had conjured up for her. Victoria was right, of course, even though Cassie missed teaching more than she’d expected. She just felt so awfully weary at times, not having guessed that the work would be so grueling.
“I can’t either,” Cassie replied. “But it would be a refreshing change to have something go right.”
Victoria laughed at the woebegone note in Cassie’s voice. “Tell me what’s happened the last few weeks.”
Cassie recounted their trials, and Victoria let out an understanding sigh. “No wonder you feel like last week’s cowchips.”
Cassie laughed weakly at Victoria’s puckish humor.
Searching Cassie’s face, Victoria wondered what role Shane was playing in her troubles. Victoria knew he wouldn’t give up easily or, for that matter, at all.
“How about that big brother of mine? Has he been making your life miserable too?”
Cassie’s laughter died. “No, I haven’t seen him in weeks. Apparently he thinks he has plenty of time to convince me to sell out.”
Victoria sensed something more than Cassie admitted. “Hmm. Well, be glad for one thing that hasn’t gone wrong!”
Continuing her cheering small talk, Victoria left Cassie with more of a smile on her face than when she’d arrived. As Victoria left, she watched Cassie waving wanly and vowed to talk to Shane and get to the bottom of the problem.
“Move ’em out!” Shane’s voice could be heard thundering through the valley, and Evan shook his head in mock fear.
“Hell, Wilbur. I don’t know which is more likely to stampede—the cattle or Shane!”
“He’s got a burr under his saddle, and no amount of work’s gonna shake it loose.” Wilbur scratched his wiry beard as Shane’s horse pounded toward him. “He’s got it bad, all right.”
“I’ve seen him happier when he was bucked off under the hooves of a longhorn bull,” Evan agreed.
“Might be this time he didn’t get bucked off,” Wilbur intoned.
“What’s that, Wilbur?” Shane pulled his horse up and gaited backward impatiently as he watched Evan retreat to the other side of the valley.
“I came to see if I can get my swamper back before roundup,” Wilbur replied, watching Shane’s face.
Shane took off his work-worn hat and wiped his perspiring brow. “Well, where is Brady?”
“I hear tell he’s hired on with the Dalton woman.”
Shane shifted forward in his saddle, the leather creaking with his movement. “Nah.”
“You sure?”
“As sure as I need to be. Can you ride into town for me, Wilbur?” Shane asked, changing the subject.
“I ’spect so, if you need me to.”
“I’m waiting for something that’s coming in by stagecoach.” Shane avoided Wilbur’s eyes as he scanned the outlying hills. No sheep on his range for almost a month. Cassie must have bundled herself and the critters up. Good thing, what with the brush fires that had sprung up in the dry lightning storms the past few weeks. Good thing for him, too. He’d been torturing himself about their lovemaking with the same intensity as those fires.
“Then I’ll head on to town. Sounds like something mighty important,” Wilbur probed.
Shane lowered his head momentarily and then pulled his horse about. “Just take care of it, will you, Wilbur?”
“Whatever you say, son,” Wilbur said obligingly, appearing as though he wanted to say more. Instead he glanced toward the thatch of ponderosa pine bordering the valley. “From the frown on Victoria’s face, I’d say trouble’s a’comin’.”
Shane followed the direction of Wilbur’s glance and saw the determined face of his younger sister as she guided her wagon over rocky clumps of wild grass and weeds. Shane craned his head toward Wilbur in silent appeal. He didn’t know what had set her off, but Victoria could be formidable when riled.
Wilbur, knowing the same thing, pulled his mount about and rode off, leaving only gritty dust in his wake. Shane moved toward Victoria, meeting her halfway as her wagon climbed the low-rising hill.
“Hot day for you to be out, little sister,” Shane greeted her. From the fire in her expression, he knew he wouldn’t get by with pleasantries. He wondered what her cause was today.
“I’m not here to chitchat, Shane. I’ll get right to the point. What have you done to Cassie?”
Shane rolled his eyes upward, realizing Victoria was in the mood to meddle. “What makes you so sure I’ve done something?”
“Because I know you, big brother. Cassie’s crying her eyes out, and I know you’re the reason.”
“Why, what’s wrong?” Shane was dismayed when he felt his midsection tighten with concern. Deliberately he threw off the feeling, steeling himself to act unconcerned.
“I don’t know, but I can bet you’re at the b
ottom of the problem.”
“Thanks for your faith in me,” he replied dryly. His own deceit ate at him, making him short-tempered and curt.
“Faith has nothing to do with it. Cassie’s simply the first girl you’ve met who doesn’t swoon every time she sees you, and she’s not reduced to a simpering idiot by your inescapable charm. And to top it off, she’s a Dalton.”
“Stay out of it, Victoria. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Our feelings have never counted in your eyes. Your own private war, General Lancer. You’re a real dolt, do you know that?” Her voice softened for a moment. “She’s not her uncle, Shane.”
“I know that, Victoria.” That fact had haunted him night and day since their time in the meadow. “But you’re wrong about me making her cry. I haven’t even seen her for weeks.”
“And you don’t see anything wrong with that, I suppose?”
Wasn’t she ever going to let up? “Dagnabit, Sis. You’re getting too big for your britches. If I need you to tell me how to run my life, I’ll let you know.”
“Oooh!” Victoria fairly spit with frustration. “You obviously need someone to tell you how!”
They glared at each other for a few moments in crackling silence.
Shane broke the silent contest of wills. “I have cattle to tend to. Don’t you have a family you should be seeing about?” He whirled his mount, heading for the top of the rise.
Victoria’s fury exploded. “Don’t think you’ve heard the last of this.”
18
Cassie eased the paddle out of the sheep-dip solution and pushed the curling tendrils of hair away from her face. This was the second straight day of trying to dip the sheep, and she was sick to death of the chore. She was about ready to let the animals take their chances with getting ticks. Thumbing to the next page, she eased her marker back into the book and rechecked the formula. When reading about the mixture, it hadn’t seemed nearly as smelly as it had turned out to be. She glanced around, hearing the pounding hooves of an approaching horse.
Straightening up, she unconsciously rubbed the small of her back, trying to ease the now perpetual ache. Cassie shaded her eyes from the glaring midday sun with her hand. A single glance told her the massive gray sorrel was Shane’s.
Unobserved, her eyes traveled over the horse and then to Shane and lingered there while he rode toward her. The smallest detail did not escape her attention, from his tight-fitting denims to his bronzed face, but she was determined to summon her reserve of discipline to resist him. The loneliness and disappointment of the past few weeks had taught her the pitfalls of succumbing to his false charm. Trying to second-guess Shane’s game and to understand why everyone in the territory hated her sight unseen had drained her emotionally. Her spirit felt as if it were tied to a whipping post.
Cassie was leery as she watched Shane pull to a stop at the railing and dismount. She stared at him, wondering what he hugged to his side. Thank heaven whatever he held was too small to be one of her lambs. Curiosity battled with the butterflies threatening to fill her stomach. She watched as he looped his reins over the hitching post and finally turned toward her. As he approached, Cassie could see that he held a small animal. When he stopped a few feet from her, she stared first at his booted feet and then finally raised her eyes to meet his.
“Cassie,” he greeted her.
“Shane,” she returned, volumes unspoken between them.
“Here,” he said, fumbling with his armload. He thrust his bundle forward.
It was a puppy! A wriggling, cuddly puppy.
“This is for you,” he insisted, dumping the squirming white creature into her arms. She accepted the warm, furry little animal and was rewarded with a series of licks.
Dumbfounded, Cassie stared at Shane. “Yours?”
“No, yours.” She gasped, and he continued rapidly. “What with no help, and not enough dogs, I figured he’d come in handy. When he grows up, that is.” He’d felt such unreasonable and unexpected guilt, he’d impulsively ordered the dog. Shane knew that once he’d bought Cassie’s land, there would be no place in the territory for the Daltons: he would, in effect, be denying her a home. And regardless of his growing feelings for her, he knew he wouldn’t give up his mission.
Despite his resolve, hurting her was not in his plan. She’d simply gotten in the way. Regret and guilt prompted him to buy the puppy. If his plan worked out, the puppy wouldn’t have time to grow to adulthood while Cassie needed him. She’d be long gone before the puppy was old enough to herd sheep. He hardened his heart to the thought. It was unfortunate but necessary.
Cassie’s smile broke through the mist of tears that suddenly clouded her vision. Why did the man have to confuse her by being so nice! Burying her face in the puppy’s fur, she tried to summon her control.
“Where in the world did you get a Komondor?” Cassie questioned, recognizing the breed from her reference books.
Shane ducked his head slightly, unaccustomed embarrassment washing over his features. “Ordered him from Denver.”
Cassie was overwhelmed. Shane must have spent a great deal of time and energy to get the dog, not to mention money.
“He must have cost a fortune. I’m not sure I can afford—”
“He’s a gift,” Shane said stiffly.
Cassie wondered how she could ever accept such an expensive gift, especially from him. True, she’d broken every rule of etiquette since her arrival, not to mention her code of morals, but…
“I’ve never received such a lovely gift, Shane.” Cassie spoke softly, stroking the generous folds of skin wrapped in puppy fur.
Apparently mollified, Shane replied, “Thought maybe he could make up for some of the bad that’s happened since you got here.” Shane reached over to scratch the pup’s ears and was rewarded with a full-bodied wriggle. “You can be a new start, can’t you, boy?”
“My good luck piece,” Cassie added softly, searching Shane’s eyes, unguarded for once. She glanced away for a moment, then down at the puppy. “I think I’ll call you Star. After my lucky star. What do you think of that, boy?”
Despite his determination not to think about it, Shane hadn’t been able to shake the vision Victoria had created by telling him of Cassie’s tears.
“Have you had any trouble lately?”
Cassie glanced up from the puppy, still stroking his downy fur. “Some. The shearers never got through, and we had a touch of mange.” She left out the worry, frustration, despair, and loneliness she’d felt.
“That all?”
Cassie lifted her head from its hiding place and searched his face, which had closed again. She wondered what he would say if she dumped her troubles in his lap and then cried in frustration. She shook the fantasy away.
“It’s not easy being the object of everyone’s hate,” she finally answered, glancing away.
He stepped closer, the puppy the only barrier between them. Shane clasped her arm, feeling her slenderness anew. Her fragility had always been underlined with a sense of substance and strength. Now he was uncomfortably aware that it seemed as though she were slipping away, bit by bit.
He’d been shocked when he’d first ridden in. Her violet eyes were smudged with weariness, and her slender form now seemed dangerously delicate. Even worse, he sensed the vulnerability lying just beneath the surface. He could deal with the anger, their mismatched purposes, but her need wasn’t easily dismissed. He could understand Victoria’s concern, and he could feel Cassie’s despair. A small portion of his heart thawed, but he locked the restraints firmly back in place.
The puppy yipped, demanding to be put down. Shane stepped back as Cassie knelt and released him. Intending only to offer a friendly hand, Shane joined her, recapturing her arms and pulling her up with him.
Her eyes flickered shut briefly, translucent lids tipped with coal-black lashes. Her heart-shaped face, tinged in palest rose, tipped back, her lips opening briefly.
Shane felt a surge of
desire mingled with an equally powerful need to protect. To protect this woman whose strength and stamina amazed him, and whose vulnerability now grasped him, pulling him closer than he’d ever dared. Protect a Dalton? Never.
Unable to control himself, however, he moved toward her. Like a drunk thirsting after drink he knew would kill him, Shane hungered for her touch.
He was close enough to see the faint moisture on lips that opened into a well of sweetness he wanted to taste again. And close enough to feel the whisper of her breath, the warmth of her skin. The air seemed to crackle when she lifted her eyes to his. It was apparent that she, too, was feeling the intensity, the heat that seemed to emanate from them both.
He followed the direction of her tongue as it flicked over her mouth, barely wetting the pink lips. His breath grew short. He stood so near he could not only see, he could feel the way her breathing intensified, making her breasts strain upward against the confining fabric of her shirt. He felt himself growing hard just at the sight of her. But the sight of her was no longer enough.
When his lips touched hers, his mind sent off warning signals. Where was the hint of detachment he’d always felt, the need to stay in control? Instead he turned a deaf ear to the bells of warning and let himself taste her freshness, first exploring, then plundering.
When she abandoned herself to his embrace, he felt her nipples harden as her firm breasts pushed into his chest. He wanted to rip off her shirt and feel their heat against his skin. Instead he plunged his hands into her silky, raven hair, loosening the pins and entangling the strands in his fingers. He felt her shiver with pleasure, and giving in to desire, he caressed her breasts, feeling her nipples respond. He remembered what their areolas looked like, soft and dusky.
He heard her draw in her breath quickly and felt her start to pull away, but he held her tightly, denying all sense of propriety. His hands roamed over the tight breeches she wore, arousing him even further as he imagined the scant barrier they provided. He strained against the fabric of his denims, filling the suddenly insufficient space as he ground his hips against hers.
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