Summer Rose

by Bonnie K. Winn

  Catching sight of her, Robertson paused midway up the path. “Well, well, missy. What do we have here?”

  “You don’t have another victim. You’ll not get rid of me like you did my uncle.”

  Her mind whirling, Cassie barely registered the surprise on Jacob’s face as she plunged forward on the same path, urging her horse on as it approached the boulder veering off in the other direction. Holding on tightly and praying fiercely, Cassie guided the horse in a wide leap over the protruding rock. Taking a moment to look back at Robertson, who stared slack-jawed at her feat, it was hard to say who was more surprised that she’d succeeded.

  Not taking time to applaud her success, Cassie spurred her horse on down the mesa. As she neared the base of the cliff, Jacob Robertson bent down and picked up the discarded object. Pocketing it, he stared after Cassie, his face a study of conflicting emotions.

  She reached the safety of her corral and slid off the horse in a relieved slump. Shane’s unexpected voice coming from directly behind her frightened her so badly she nearly knocked him over as she jumped back.

  He didn’t seem to notice as he stared at her coldly.

  What now? she thought wearily, still shaken after her encounter with Robertson.

  “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting over an hour for you to get home.”

  “Well, isn’t that just too bad,” she snapped, grateful to be latching onto anger rather than fear.

  “I want you to stop seeing Evan.”

  “Seeing Evan?” She raised her eyebrows in disbelief, her eyes widening with the same emotion.

  “That’s right. I won’t have it.”

  “You won’t have it?” She saw red. Her encounter with Jacob Robertson had sent her flying in an emotional tailspin. Everything seemed radically out of proportion, including her reaction to Shane’s words. “If I wanted to see Evan, you couldn’t stop me.”

  “Don’t bet on it, Cassie. I’ve had all I’m going to take from you Daltons.”

  “You keep saying that. What does it mean?”

  “It means you’d better watch your step. And if you have half a brain, you’ll sell me your land and get out while you still can!”

  Cassie swallowed the fear rising in her throat, his last few words dancing through her brain. Did that mean that Shane was the one?

  Before she could complete the thought, he continued in an almost silky voice, “You’re to be congratulated, Cassie. Your charm is working very well on Evan.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I think you know what it means. How far were you willing to go to convince Evan to help you?”

  The revealing flush in her cheeks was a dead giveaway. Her implicit promises to Evan haunted her, knowing she’d led him on. Guilt now made her flush heatedly.

  The flexing of tense muscles in Shane’s cheek was the only sign of his anger. When his arms reached toward her, there was little gentleness in his touch.

  Even as she willed herself to deny him access, her body responded to the fire he was creating. He massaged her breasts beneath the rough work shirt she wore, shooting a path of pure fire to her loins. The aching intensified as his lips replaced his fingers, and unwittingly she ground her pelvis against his.

  Cassie moaned when Shane picked her up, carrying her the short distance to the barn and then dropping with her to the hay. His hands never left her. She gasped aloud when he molded his hands to her womanhood, leaving her hot and damp. And ready.

  Shane rolled on top of her, his body automatically fitting to the contours he’d grown to cherish, to love.

  As abruptly as he’d touched her, Shane released her. What had come over him? He’d fully intended to show her how little she meant to him, that he could take what she offered and walk away.

  Instead he’d made it painfully clear to himself just how much he cared for her. Not cared—loved. He loved her enough to throw away his pride and the promises he’d held sacred for a lifetime.

  When he suddenly stood up, she stared at him in disbelief, trying to gather the shards of her shattered dignity.

  He forced himself to turn away, remembering what she must have shared with Evan. Stopping for a moment, he turned back. “And after today, I’ll make sure Evan isn’t deceived either. I wouldn’t count on him being your lap dog anymore.”

  “But I thought you…and I…”

  “You thought wrong.”

  Shane forced himself to look away from the shimmer of tears and pain in Cassie’s violet eyes—eyes that had no doubt sucked Evan into their depths. Realizing a Dalton had caused him to turn his back on a lifetime of commitment tortured Shane almost as much as the realization that he still loved her. His heart aching with the knowledge that Cassie had played him for a fool, he stalked away.

  Only the haze of the suddenly empty barn remained. Sitting up, Cassie closed her shirt and gave in to the tears that had haunted her since the day she’d arrived. But as she cried, she knew no amount of tears would wash away the humiliation. And worse, they wouldn’t erase the love she felt for the man who thought she had betrayed him.

  39

  Shane galloped across the connecting land, the demons that had been pursuing him for days intensifying. He tossed his Stetson on the oak hall tree where it rested on a peg. What the hell was he going to do? He needed to show Evan once and for all that he didn’t have a chance with Cassie.

  Maybe he should plan a romantic dinner at the Lazy H, he thought with a sigh. He refused to dwell on the regret that the dinner couldn’t take place solely to romance Cassie, to see her eyes light up with pleasure, her sensuous lips curve with delight. He shook his head to clear the thoughts.

  ’Course he’d have a hell of a time convincing her to come to dinner. Pouring a tumbler of whiskey, he downed the fiery liquid in one gulp. He’d make her accept his invitation if he had to tie her to her horse. Regret tore at him like a cancer. He had to place Evan’s welfare ahead of everything because first he was a Lancer, then a man.

  Settling in at his desk, Shane opened the heavy leather cover of his journal just as he heard Wilbur’s raspy voice.

  “Thought that was you,” Wilbur stated, clumping into the study. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down in the leather winged chair closest to Shane. “So, how’s the little filly?”

  Shane merely cocked his eyebrows at Wilbur’s question.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, boy. I seen the two of you together enough to know what’s going on.”

  “Nothing’s going on.” Anymore.

  “I ’spect that’s what’s bothering you, son.”

  Shane avoided Wilbur’s gaze. “I ’spect you’re right, Wilbur.”

  “Them’s the kind you don’t let get away, boy.”

  Shane steeled himself against Wilbur’s insight. “You’re right again, Wilbur. How ’bout fixing up something real fancy for dinner tomorrow night?”

  Wilbur looked suspicious. “Fancy how?”

  Shane pushed himself back in the chair. “Not stew.”

  “Since when don’t you like my stew?” Wilbur’s face reddened, starting to puff up.

  “I like your stew. I was just thinking of something more suited to dinner for a lady.”

  “Don’t know what she’d have against my stew either,” Wilbur muttered.

  Shane sighed. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. “Whatever you cook will be all right. Cassie’s not too hard to please.”

  “Well, I do know how to make a mighty fine duck, if I can bag one.”

  Shane shot a surprised glance at Wilbur. He must really like Cassie to make an offer like that. Wilbur believed in putting beef on the table every night.

  “Whatever you think.”

  Wilbur kept muttering, more to himself than to Shane. “Got that special stuffing for it too.”

  Shane returned his attention to the journal as Wilbur wandered out of the study, still muttering about what to serve. After Wilbur left, Shane pushed his fac
e into his hands, wondering what a truly intimate romantic dinner with Cassie might have been like. But now, with Evan involved, that wasn’t possible.

  Jacob Robertson shoved himself away from the saloon table in disgust. Ever since the Dalton woman had agreed to tear down her fences and free up the water, the men in town acted as though she’d grown wings. Sure, she was teaching half their young’uns by now, so some of ’em probably felt obligated to back off. But, by God, he didn’t. Just ’cause the Dalton woman was mixed up with the Lancers, she thought she was uppity. It was time to take her down a peg. His pa hadn’t raised no weak-kneed sissy. Hell, she was lucky she still had her land to sell.

  Jacob thought of the day his pa had died, a broken man since Luke Dalton had dammed up the water. His pa should have been living easy, too, but they’d lost most of their stock, and things had never been the same.

  The Dalton woman might have fooled his neighbors, but not him. Robertson slammed his mug of beer against the splintery grain of the bar and watched as it sloshed onto the counter. It didn’t matter that she had torn down her fences and let up on the creek; he wouldn’t rest until all the Daltons were gone.

  40

  The candlelight surprised Cassie. She’d expected a kerosene lamp, not soft candles flickering in silver holders. When Shane’s invitation to dinner had arrived, Cassie had torn it into tiny bits and then stomped it under the heel of her boot. Then one by one, she had picked up the torn pieces, rereading the words: I deeply regret my actions…

  Knowing that pride was a huge piece of the puzzle that made up Shane’s character, Cassie realized this was Shane’s way of apologizing. She fingered the bouquet of wildflowers that had accompanied the note, and smiled slowly, remembering the abashed cowhand who’d awkwardly delivered both the note and the flowers.

  Using one of her few remaining pieces of decent stationery, Cassie replied formally that she would be delighted to attend. Bob Jensen had taken her missive to Lancer as though she were crazy. Darn fool notion, carrying mail to your next door neighbor, he’d muttered. But Cassie hadn’t minded.

  The day of the dinner, she thought of nothing but the evening to come. She had to know why Shane had invited her to a formal dinner after the way he had spoken to her. Was he planning to accuse her again of consorting with his brother?

  Cassie cursed her abundance of curiosity. She should have declined. Determined to set him on his heels and make him regret what he had missed, instead she had fussed and primped, trying on every dress she owned. Millicent swept her hair up in a flattering cascade of curls, and Cassie wore her mother’s pearl and diamond earrings. The blush in her cheeks was her own, and the lavender scent she had dabbed on wafted gently in the air.

  Sitting across the table from him, Cassie swallowed nervously, wondering what was to come.

  But he surprised her. The hard, angry expression was gone, replaced by the charm that had captivated her from the first. In place of his usual denims, Shane wore an elegant gray worsted suit and starched white shirt that emphasized his bronzed skin and broad shoulders.

  Cassie swallowed almost painfully as she studied the strong lines of his face that commanded attention. She swept her eyes away from his face, and they rested on his hands, strong, virile, and restless. Pulling her gaze upward, she stared at the broad expanse of his well-muscled chest, remembering the silky tufts of chestnut hair that rested beneath the confines of his dress shirt.

  Picking up her wineglass with shaking hands, Cassie smiled weakly, hoping for once he hadn’t read her thoughts. When his lips curved up slowly, devilishly, she knew her wish hadn’t been granted. Instead of commenting on her distress, however, he occupied her with polite dinner conversation, skirting artfully around the tension that was ripe in the air.

  While she enjoyed his attention, she kept waiting for the other side of him to emerge, the part of him that had cast her aside. Instead he was everything she had wished for since she had first met him. But oddly enough she missed their sparring. It was like having dinner with a polite stranger. After a delectable meal that amazed Cassie, Shane escorted her to the front room, opening the wide window and allowing a refreshing breeze to enter. Uncapping a decanter of sherry, Shane poured a glassful and handed it to Cassie.

  When he turned back to her, Cassie caught a look of surprise on Shane’s face that was quickly replaced by determination. Without preamble, Shane crossed over to her and abruptly pulled her into his arms, kissing her thoroughly. Even though his kiss ignited a familiar fire, she felt a prickling on her neck that warned all was not right.

  As Shane released her, she looked over his shoulder into Evan’s furious face. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “Evan!” she called out after him, but he’d stomped through the massive double doors, slamming them loudly. She turned furiously to Shane. “You did that on purpose!”

  He moved to the sideboard, coolly uncorking a crystal decanter and pouring a shot of whiskey. Only the slight tremor of his hand revealed that anything was amiss. Throwing his head back, Shane downed the drink before turning to her. “And if I did?”

  Her contempt rose. “I knew you’d stoop to anything to get your way, but I didn’t think it included a display like this.”

  “What’s the matter?” Shane shoved aside his regret. Evan’s interest in Cassie had to be stopped. Shane knew he was goading her but couldn’t stop. A hard knot of jealousy ate at him. “Afraid Evan won’t be at your beck and call anymore?”

  “You’re despicable!”

  “You didn’t think so a minute ago when you were melting in my arms.”

  She threw the remainder of her drink in his face, but he refused to flinch. “I told you I’d stop whatever was between you and Evan and I meant it.”

  “What’s the matter?” she taunted in return. “Afraid of a little competition?”

  He wiped the drink from his face. “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “Then try telling me!”

  Instead he pulled Cassie into another embrace, as demanding as the first. Only this time there was no audience, and they were both electrifying aware of that fact.

  She saw the haunted agony in his eyes before he shut them. Regretting her involvement with Evan, she evaded Shane’s caresses. She moved aside to avoid him, inadvertently throwing herself even closer. Cassie realized her mistake when she felt his hot flesh through her clothes, burning a path to her heart.

  His hands moved over her impatiently. When he didn’t release her, Cassie cried out involuntarily in protest. He stood perfectly still at the sound. She finally raised tearful eyes to his, and he dropped both hands, moving away from her. She heard him take a ragged breath as he turned away. Cassie saw the convulsive movement as she stared at his back, but he said only, “You’re going to tell Evan it was your plan all along to use him.”

  “I will not!”

  Shane whirled about, and Cassie took a stumbling step backward.

  “You’ll tell him you were using us both to get what you wanted, and when I found out, you admitted it.”

  “You’re crazy. I’ll do no such thing. Evan’s my friend—or he was.”

  “You’re playing with fire, and I’m not going to let Evan get burned.” Shane’s voice was harsh in the dim light.

  “Why? Why would Evan get burned? I’m not as heartless as you think. I wouldn’t—”

  “I can’t take that chance.”

  “But why not?” Cassie cried.

  “Because Evan’s your cousin,” he finally ground out, releasing his grip on her and turning away. He stopped near the window, raking his hands through his hair.

  Cassie’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions. Disbelief, misunderstanding, and finally a dawning awareness rushed over her. “Then your mother…” she began softly.

  “And your uncle,” he finished, the fire in him extinguished.

  Cassie moved beside him, reaching out and then pulling her hand back, uncertain of what to do. She fiercely wanted to offer
comfort but didn’t want him to pull away. She settled for standing close, facing him as he continued to stare out the window. “Why didn’t you tell me, Shane?”

  He laughed mirthlessly. “Even I wasn’t supposed to know. It’s not the kind of secret you trust many people with.”

  That he had, even in the convoluted way it had happened, touched her. “But it could have saved so much misunderstanding. I see now why you were so worried about Evan.”

  Shane only nodded in agreement, accepting her hesitant touch as she placed a hand on his arm. “But, Shane, there’s never been anything between Evan and me. I’ve tried to make you understand that.”

  He gazed at last into those eyes that in the past had been flushed with desire and darkened with fury. But all he saw now was trust and truth. Still, the past gnawed at him. “That’s not how he reacted when he saw you in my arms.”

  “He’s had a crush, Shane.” It was her turn to move away. “And if I were entirely truthful, I’d admit I used him because of it.” Her eyes were downcast for a moment. “But I didn’t think I had a choice. I was fighting for my life.”

  Regret chiseled his features and coated his voice. “I trusted before. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Knowing he referred to his mother, Cassie placed her hand tentatively on his arm. “Shane, forget for a moment that she was your mother. Think of them simply as a man and a woman in love, with the same feelings anyone in love would have.”

  He hesitated, the words seeming to be dredged up from the depths of his soul. “I knew my father and Luke Dalton fought over my mother when they were all young, but she made her choice when she got married. Your uncle knew how vulnerable she was. He took advantage of the fact that my father was gone.” Shane paused as though the words were more painful than he could bear. “It was during the Indian raids. Pa had been missing almost a year.” His voice closed again, waves of memories assailing him. “We thought he was dead—but he escaped. And came home to find my mother carrying Luke Dalton’s bastard.”