by Ana Seymour
She’d made some purchases in town herself—a calico dress and a green linen skirt with a white dimity blouse. Though Parker treated her with the same attention and courtesy no matter what she was wearing, she’d begun to enjoy putting aside her buckskins in the evening. Now and then she would feel Parker’s eyes on her in the more shapely clothing and get pleasantly tingly. And occasionally, it would be more than a tingle. There would be a kind of heavy ache in the pit of her stomach, a mixture of longing and curiosity that was slowly driving her crazy.
Because the only thing Parker hadn’t done was kiss her again. They’d been alone together several times. In fact, she’d brazenly seen to it that they would be. But he’d kept his distance, smiling and warm and courteous. She’d seen the same flare of desire in his eyes that she’d noticed when he’d kissed her. But it had been carefully banked, like an all-night fire.
Still, just being around him was making her happy. When she’d sworn never to be dependent on a man, she’d had no idea how satisfying it could be to share with a man—share problems, decisions, ideas. Parker, in spite of his inexperience, was a quick learner and, as he had with the sick heifers, brought a wealth of academic knowledge that complemented Molly’s broader practical education. It made her happy to sit with him at the end of the day discussing her plans for the future. And when he declared that when spring came he and Smokey would scour the town for some hands who would help get her unmarked cattle branded, she agreed without a twinge to let them do it.
It took Jeremy Dickerson to deflate her good humor. They hadn’t seen much of the Dickersons all winter, and Molly was beginning to think Jeremy had given up his plans to win both her and the ranch.
With all the good weather, the winter repairs and other chores had all been done, leaving the Lucky Stars group with a lot of idle time. The day the Dickersons rode up, Susannah and Parker had arranged an impromptu riding competition.
“I want to make it just like the fancy rich people back East,” Susannah had exclaimed. “A real steeplechase.”
“It’s awfully muddy for a steeplechase,” Parker had said. “And the saddles are different, you know.”
She would not be dissuaded. “It will be a Western steeplechase.”
So they had set out a course with buckets for turn markers and hay bales for jumps. Molly, Mary Beth and Smokey had declared the corral fence would be their grandstand and promised to serve as cheering onlookers.
Diamond pranced around a little nervously, waiting for Parker to give her direction. It was as if she knew that her master was about to pull something entirely new on her.
But before the race could begin, the Dickerson brothers were spotted coming across the western field. Molly recognized them at once and jumped down from the fence to greet them.
“Good afternoon, Jeremy, Ned. What brings you over this way?”
Jeremy surveyed the makeshift racecourse with a look of disdain. His glance flickered over Parker without acknowledgment, then returned to Molly with a smile. “It’s been too long, Molly, dear, since we’ve been to visit. I’ve neglected my duty.”
“Are you saying that visiting us is a duty, Jeremy?” Molly asked. She looked over to include Ned in the question, but his eyes were on Mary Beth and Smokey, still sitting on the fence rail.
“Of course not,” Jeremy said smoothly, dismounting. He walked toward her and gave a little bow. “Forgive my phrasing. Nothing so pleasant could ever be considered a duty.”
Molly smiled. She was in too good a mood to let Jeremy’s imperious ways bother her. “Well, in that case, you’re welcome. You’ve arrived just in time to witness our great Western steeplechase.”
Jeremy gave Parker another dismissive glance. “I do hope you’ll try to find yourself some real cowhands before spring, Molly.”
His words were deliberately loud enough for Parker to hear them. Molly could almost see the hair bristle on the back of his neck. But he stayed calmly where he was, his face impassive.
Her smile dimmed. “I’d put Parker up against any two cowhands you’d like to name, Jeremy,” she said.
Jeremy looked surprised at her quick defense. He eyed Parker, his expression calculating. “Indeed?” he said.
Ned had dismounted and come to stand next to his brother. “We came over to tell you about your mule, Molly.”
“My mule?”
Jeremy took over the tale. “We found that old mule of your father’s—under a melting snowdrift.”
“Not Beatrice?” Mary Beth cried.
“I’m afraid so,” Ned confirmed. He sent her a look of sympathy.
“Poor Beatrice,” Molly said. “We kept hoping all winter that .she’d come wandering back one day, but she probably never made it through that first storm.”
“Well…” Ned gave Mary Beth a troubled glance. “She’d been shot.”
“Shot!” all three sisters exclaimed at once.
“Shot through the head,” Jeremy added.
“Who would shoot Beatrice?” Mary Beth asked.
“Maybe she’d broken a leg or something and some passerby put her out of her misery,” Molly suggested.
Jeremy nodded. “It’s possible. But the cadaver has stayed in pretty good shape under the snow, and there’s no sign of any other injury.”
“How very odd.” Molly’s distress was obvious in the tone of her voice. Parker got off his horse and walked across the corral toward her.
“Where did you find the mule, Dickerson?” he asked.
At first it appeared that Jeremy would ignore Parker’s question, but finally he said curtly, “On our property—over by Levitt’s Hill.”
“Poor Beatrice,” Molly said again with a sigh. “What in the world was she doing way over there?”
“Something must have spooked her over there,” Smokey chimed in for the first time. “Maybe the same thing that spooked the calf over to your place.”
“Are you still thinking that there might be a cougar around?” Ned asked.
Smokey exchanged a glance with Parker, who gave an imperceptible shake of his head. “A cougar or somethin’,” he said with a shrug.
“Well, anyway, we thought you’d want to know about it,” Jeremy said briskly, “seeing as how your pa was. fond of the critter. I’ve had my men see to the carcass.”
“Thank you,” Molly said. The good spirit of the play horse race had disappeared. For a minute no one spoke. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?” she asked finally.
Secretly she hoped that for once the Dickersons would refuse her hospitality. But the brothers accepted with nodded thanks.
“Perhaps we could do the race later?” she asked, sending Parker a pleading look.
“Sure,” he said, taking a step back from his position at her side.
Jeremy took his horse’s reins and handed them to Parker. “You’ll see to our horses, won’t you?” he asked.
Parker took the reins of both horses. “At your service, gentlemen,” he said with a little tip of his hat. Molly watched with a frown as he turned his back and led the horses toward the barn.
The Dickersons had stayed through supper, and Parker had not joined them. Molly wasn’t surprised that he stayed away, but it made her feel odd after the closeness they’d developed in the past few days. When Ned and Jeremy left, she fixed a plate with a couple of pieces of cold chicken and some leftover biscuits.
“Is that for Parker?” Susannah asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll take it out to him,” Susannah suggested with a coy smile.
Molly smiled back. The green worm of jealousy still squirmed inside her sometimes when she saw Parker looking at Susannah. It was still hard for her to believe that he could possibly prefer her over Susannah’s willowy beauty. But each time she pushed the feeling away. By now even Susannah could tell that it was Molly who held Parker’s interest. She’d goodnaturedly declared her sister the victor in this particular competition and had begun to treat Parker like the brother she suspect
ed he was likely to become.
“I think I can handle it,” Molly said, picking up the plate. “I’ll just drop it off with him before I check on the animals. I should be back in a minute.”
“If I were you and I had a man like that panting after me, I wouldn’t be back in any minute,” her sister declared firmly.
“Susannah!”
“Well, he is. You should see how he looks at you when you’re not looking.”
Molly hesitated. “How?” she asked softly.
Susannah gave an airy wave. “Never mind. I wouldn’t want to offend you.”
“You won’t.”
Susannah ducked her head to whisper as if in a conspiracy. “Like a bull moose in mating season.”
“Susannah!” she exclaimed again.
Susannah shrugged. “I warned you. The trouble with you, Molly, is you think you’re so darned independent and free, but you’re just as tied up inside as the old biddies in the church quilting circle. You should try relaxing those stern standards one of these days—you might find it’s a lot of fun.”
Molly pondered her sister’s words as she walked out to the bunkhouse. She’d told herself that she was going out there because her hired hand had missed supper. She had a duty to be sure that he was well fed. And she wanted to be sure that Jeremy’s remarks had not upset him, though she couldn’t really imagine that Parker would care one way or another what Jeremy Dickerson had to say about him.
But as she neared the low wooden building she felt her heart begin a now familiar pounding. The palms of her hands began to sweat, in spite of the cold. She wasn’t heading to the bunkhouse to offer Parker some supper, she realized with sudden clarity. She was going out there to offer him herself.
Parker had braided and unbraided his strips of whit leather until the rawhide was crinkled. A dozen times he’d gotten up from his bunk, grabbed his hat and started toward the door to head over to the house. Then he’d stop, picture Jeremy Dickerson’s supercilious face sitting across the table from Molly as if he were already master of the house, and he’d change his mind, throwing his hat off in disgust.
He hoped they were having a miserable time. Molly had never given any indication that she was receptive to Dickerson’s suit, but he remembered that when he had arrived at the Lucky Stars, Susannah had informed him that Jeremy and her sister were as good as engaged.
Molly herself had admitted that the union of the two ranches had been her father’s wish, and Parker knew that Charlie Hanks’s wishes were still a powerful force acting in Molly’s life. And, hell. Who was to say that it wasn’t a good idea after all? Joining the Lucky Stars and the Lazy D would create a cattle empire that would dominate this section of Wyoming. And Molly had always made it clear that the ranch came first, above all other interests.
It was almost as if his thoughts had conjured her. The bunkhouse door opened without warning and she stood there silhouetted against the black night. “Molly!” he said, scrambling to his feet.
Now that she was here, Molly could hardly keep her hands from shaking as she gripped the tin plate. “Ah… hello, Parker.”
He stood and began to button his flannel shirt, which hung open to the waist. Red long underwear sculpted the muscles of his chest. “I didn’t expect any visitors.”
“No, don’t… worry,” she said nervously, motioning toward his shirt. All at once she realized that there was no way she could express the vague notions and longings that had been in her head. She had envisioned this scene a hundred times in her dreams, but the reality was totally different. She’d imagined something like the night in the barn, when the dim light and eerie vastness of the building had lent a dreamlike quality to their lovemaking. Here the big lantern on the center table cast a brilliant light around the small room. The heat radiating off the stove smelled like steamy wool clothes. And Parker, instead of looking at her with the hooded desire she had seen before in his eyes, was staring, puzzled, looking perhaps as if she had just awakened him.
“I brought you some supper,” she said, a little too loudly. She set the plate quickly on the table, then clasped her hands behind her back to stop the trembling.
Parker gave her one of the smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She smiled back, relaxing a little. “I’m sorry you didn’t come in to eat with us.”
“I preferred the company of the spiders out here.”
Molly laughed. “I’m sorry if Jeremy upset you.”
“There’s no reason for you to apologize for him. He has nothing to do with you.” He watched her as he finished buttoning his shirt and tucked it into his pants. “Or does he?”
“No.”
He came around the table toward her and asked directly, “So you have no plans to marry him and join your ranches the way your father had hoped?”
He looked big and rumpled. His broad chest was just inches from hers. Her pulse had begun to race, and all at once it was hard for her to breathe. It had been a mistake to come out here, she realized in a panic. What had he asked her about Jeremy? “No…I don’t know.”
Now he stood over her, near enough for her to see the heavy stubble of his whiskers. “Well, which is it?” he demanded. “‘No’ or ‘I don’t know’?”
“No.” Her answer came out as a whisper.
Parker took hold of her arms. “Good,” he whispered back. Then he pulled her against him and kissed her thoroughly. By now their mouths had begun to learn each other. He could tell exactly when she wanted the kiss to deepen, could sense when to withdraw, to soften, to let the tension build. Neither one of them moved any part of their bodies other than their lips and tongues, but Parker could feel the invisible tugs of desire streaking throughout, racing to set up demands that were even more strident than when he had lain on top of her that night in the barn.
He dropped his hands from her arms and stepped back, his breathing hard. “You’d better head on out of here, boss lady.”
He sounded almost angry with her, giving Molly pause for a minute. She’d been thoroughly enjoying his kisses. The pleasant tingling had come once again, then had dissolved into stronger waves of sensation that left her wanting something more.
“I don’t want to leave,” she said, her direct eyes meeting his.
He looked startled and, for once, appeared to be at a loss for words. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he concluded finally.
“Yes, I do. Susannah says you look at me like a…a bull moose in season, but you’ve kissed me now… several times… and each time you end up chasing me away.”
Parker gave a reluctant grin. “A bull moose?”
She nodded, her face defiant, daring him to mock her.
The ache of his desire had subsided a little, replaced by something resembling fear. Parker blew out his cheeks and let out a puff of air. “You are the most damned direct woman I’ve ever known, Molly Hanks.”
She didn’t feel direct. Her insides were feeling as shaky as her hands had been a few minutes ago. But she’d rather play out the scene than run away once more to her cold bedroom to spend the night in restless, indefinable dreams. “So…what are you going to do about it, tenderfoot?” she asked softly.
They stood inches apart, not touching but each feeling the pull of attraction between them as real as a caress. “I once had a boss who told me I’d end up as buzzard meat if I didn’t keep my hands off the Hanks sisters.” Parker tried once more to keep his voice light.
“You don’t strike me as the type that always follows orders.”
Her lips were pressed tightly together, but instead of making her look stern, it simply made her look vulnerable, made him want to kiss them open again to find the warmth within. Her shawl had fallen unheeded to the floor when they’d kissed. She was wearing the calico dress that stretched tightly across her trim breasts. So tightly that he could see her state of arousal by the hardened peaks. But Molly was a virgin. And he didn’t feel he had the right to change that unles
s he was also willing to commit to her with his whole heart—the heart that had been broken and buried with Claire back in Dead wood. He held his hands up in the air as if renouncing any claim to her. “You’re wrong. I do follow orders, boss lady.”
Molly gave a snort of impatience. “Then consider the orders rescinded,” she said, and flung her arms around his neck.
For several seconds he didn’t respond. But this time she kissed him, and it set Molly’s blood racing even faster than their previous kisses had. She felt the sensitive tips of her breasts against his hard chest, the warm hollow of her abdomen against the hard ridge of his manhood. She’d been raised on a ranch—she knew how procreation occurred, but she’d never imagined the reality of it all. She’d never expected the urgency, the pounding, the ache.
Parker made a sound at the back of his throat, surrendering to the inevitable. With one hand he reached to douse the wick of the lantern. Then he lifted her in his arms and made his way unerringly in the dark to his bunk. “Well, you’re the boss,” he whispered, setting her down on the hard mattress.
He leaned down and pulled off his boots, then settled back against the wall and pulled her once again into his arms. If it was going to happen, it wouldn’t be in a rush. He couldn’t remember ever being quite so desperate for a woman before, but he was determined to make himself go slowly enough to make it good for her. The one positive thing about Claire’s unfortunate profession had been that she’d been able to introduce Parker to a whole new world of sensuality. She’d taught him that a woman’s desire could be as strong as his own and that frank and open sharing between a man and a woman could lead to heightened pleasure for them both.