by Ana Leigh
She clutched a handkerchief in her hand. “I can’t cry away twenty years. When I was very young, I never understood why I couldn’t please him. As I grew older I began to suspect that he didn’t love me, and that no matter how I tried, I would never be able to please him. So I finally stopped trying.”
“Jenny, I can’t believe that deep in his heart, your father doesn’t love you. He’s a proud man who, driven to building a successful ranch, expects those around him to have that same dedication.”
“If that weren’t reason enough for me to hate it, the heat is unbearable in summer, and so much of the ranch is barren and rocky. Though the dramatic beauty is startling in some places, I prefer green grass and trees, and the scent of flowers to that of horse manure. I want the evening breeze to soothe me, not blow sand in my face. This land is as uncompromising as my father.”
“Have you thought of moving to a city?” he asked.
She sighed. “I tried once—but Father hired a Pinkerton agent to bring me back. I thought that next year when I’m twenty-one, I’d leave and he couldn’t stop me. But now it’s too late. How can I leave with Andrea gone? At least it’s worked out for her. Don is a wonderful man.”
“You are entitled to do what you want, with no guilt. Tell me, Jenny, would you consider marrying a man you didn’t love just to get away from here?”
“Is that a proposal, Dan’l?”
He chuckled. “I’m only playing devil’s advocate. No doubt there are many men who would happily marry you and remain on the Double B. But what if the proposal meant leaving the ranch? Would that be an incentive to marry?”
“Why would I marry a man I didn’t love? That would just be jumping from the frying pan into the fire. If you were that man, I might consider it if you agreed to give up being a bounty hunter. I enjoy your company and…” The words suddenly seemed to lodge in her throat.
“And what, Jenny?”
“…and your making love to me. Is that what’s meant by being in love? To like being together and making love?”
“I don’t know, Jenny. I have nothing to compare it to.”
“Would the woman you marry one day have to be a good cook?”
“I wouldn’t make it a prerequisite, but I’d hope she’d have some skill at it.”
“Then I guess that would eliminate me as a possibility.”
“What about your choice for a husband?” he asked.
“He wouldn’t be a bounty hunter, that’s for certain. And since I’ve bared my soul to you, Rico, will you tell me why you chose such a profession? Any woman would want to marry you, if not for that.”
“A man elects to do what he thinks he does best.”
“I think you’d be good at anything you tried doing. But I’ve thought about your pursuit of Ben Slatter. You said you’ve been trailing him for three years. Other than his face on a wanted poster, would you even recognize the man if he was standing next to you in a bar?”
“I met him on a previous occasion in California,” Rico said.
Jenny settled back in his arms. “When was that?”
“Shortly after my mother’s death,” he said, determined not to reveal the whole truth to her. “I stopped in a bar and Slatter, Kansas, and the Carson brothers were there. They weren’t wanted by the law then.
“Slatter started complaining to the bartender about serving breeds drinks, meaning me. One word led to another, and we started exchanging blows. Trouble was, it was four against one. After they finished beating me until I was almost dead, Slatter decided to hang me. Only the local sheriff’s intervention saved my life. Later, the gang shot him in the back while escaping from jail.”
Jenny’s surprise was evident. “So your pursuit of Slatter is more for personal reasons.”
“Yes. For very personal reasons.”
Since her sobbing had ceased and she had composed herself, he thought he’d get back to her relationship with her father.
“Jenny, when you and your father were arguing earlier, you said you knew he never loved you. What gave you that impression?”
She didn’t reply immediately.
“I couldn’t have been more than five or six when Father took me for my first ride on a horse. He held me in front of him on the saddle, but I was petrified and started crying.”
Rico could feel her trembling and cursed himself for being foolish to have encouraged her to dredge up her past. He tightened his arms around her protectively when she drew a shuddering breath and continued.
“Disgusted with me, he deliberately prodded the horse to a faster gait and began jumping the animal over obstacles. The more I screamed and cried, the more reckless he became to force me to stop crying.”
She looked up at him, her eyes pleading for understanding. “But I couldn’t stop, Rico. I tried, but I couldn’t stop. Father was furious with me, and shouted that no child of his would grow up to be a crybaby. Every day for a week, he took me riding until I was able not to cry when he did. I suppose that’s why I’m not comfortable on a horse to this day. And no matter what he’s said to me in the years that followed, I’ve never shed a tear in front of him again.”
Jenny half-laughed. “But he never hugged me, or held me on his lap.”
Rico hugged her close. “I’m sorry, Princess. I’ll bet that’s why you were able to stand up to Slatter, though. Go to sleep now. Things will look better in the morning.”
She grasped his hand. “Stay with me until I do?”
“I will.”
“Rico, do you think the man who attacked Father tonight was Slatter?” Her voice trailed off as she began to drift into sleep.
“I’ll know more in the morning,” he said softly.
Rico held her hand until he was certain she was sleeping. Then he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss on it. He knew at that moment that whatever lay ahead for her, he would be a part of it.
“Sleep peacefully, Princess,” he murmured softly. “I won’t let the Ben Slatters or Frank Burkes of the world ever hurt you again.”
A rising sun had already brightened the sky when Rico awoke the following day. In his concern for Jenny last night, he had shoved the attack to the back of his mind. By oversleeping, he had lost several hours that would give Slatter a chance to slip through his fingers again. He shouldn’t have let it happen.
Rico just finished pulling on his boots when he heard the hoofbeats of multiple horses. He grabbed his gun belt and moved to the window just as an army patrol rode up to the house. Strapping on his gun belt, he hurried down the stairs.
Frank Burke had already stepped outside to greet them. “Morning, Lieutenant. What can I do for the army today? If you need to water your horses, there’s a trough over at the barn or the corral.”
“Good morning, sir,” the young officer replied.
Rico moved over to Jake Bedford, who was the scout with the patrol, and they shook hands. “What’s this all about, Jake?”
“We’re trailing a prisoner named John Cramer who escaped from the army stockade at Fort Apache a month or so ago. The army figured the Apaches had gotten him, but he’s been sighted in this area,” Jake said.
“And since the trail led us nearby, we rode over here to make sure you folks are all okay,” the lieutenant added.
“Matter of fact, we had an incident last night,” Frank said. “Someone snuck up behind me and conked me on the head, but he rode off before we could catch him.”
“If it was Cramer, sir, you were lucky. The man is quite dangerous. He was scheduled to hang for shooting an officer in the back. Then he stabbed the guard to death, and shot two of the post sentries while escaping.”
“You figure he’s the one who killed Pete and Maggie Cole?” Frank asked.
“I have no idea, sir,” Lieutenant Brothers replied. “If he did, we can only hang him once. We’ll be moving on now, Mr. Burke. I’m relieved to see none of you have been harmed, and I advise you to keep an eye open.”
The door slammed behind them and Je
nny came out of the house in time to hear the officer’s last words. “What happened?”
“A killer escaped from an army prison, Miss Jennifer. I’m relieved you’re…I mean all of you…are unharmed, Miss Jennifer.”
The young officer was practically tripping over his own tongue at Jenny’s appearance.
“May I offer you and your men a cup of coffee or something to eat, Lieutenant?” Jenny asked graciously.
“That’s very kind of you, but we must be moving on. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Jennifer.” He turned to Rico. “If you see any sign of Cramer, will you let us know?”
Jake Bedford added, “Don’t kill him if you see him, Rico. There’s a couple more deaths to clear up that Cramer might be guilty of.” Then he slapped Rico on the back. “But don’t take any chances, friend.”
“Mount up,” Lieutenant Brothers shouted, and the patrol moved on.
“Could be all this time we’ve been blaming Slatter when it was this Cramer,” Frank said as they turned toward the house.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Rico said.
Frank snorted. “Wouldn’t expect you to, since it would show you up to be wrong.”
When they all stepped inside, they were met by a burning odor and a stream of black smoke emanating from the kitchen.
“The toast!” Jenny cried. “I forgot about it when I went outside.”
“More waste,” Frank grumbled.
Within minutes they had aired out the kitchen and disposed of the blackened bread. Rico then chopped up some smoked bacon and fried it with a half dozen eggs while Jenny made more toast.
Breakfast was a quiet affair. Rico couldn’t figure out which was worse: having the Burkes bickering with each other, or the silence between the two.
He tried to get a neutral conversation started, but his efforts were met with only one-or two-word responses, nods, or shrugs. He finally finished his meal in silence.
A smirk crossed his face as he watched the cavalry ride along the riverbank on the other side of the river. Then he crawled back into the cave where he’d been hiding. Even the Apaches hadn’t discovered him on their side of the river. They were all so stupid: the cavalry, the Indians, and those scouts that kept riding up and down over there, looking for him. He’d outsmarted all of them.
In the days that followed, Jenny’s cooking skills improved. She still had much to learn, but had mastered cooking oatmeal for breakfast and frying bacon and making toast without burning it.
However, she and Frank avoided each other and continued their silence throughout the meals. Evenings, he would retire behind the closed door of the library, and Rico and Jenny would entertain each other with a card game or some such diversion. By the time another week passed, the strain was beginning to show on all three.
Then they heard the good news that the army had finally caught John Cramer. Although it did nothing to ease the antagonism between Jenny and Frank, the convict’s capture was a relief to all, and the fact that there had been no sign of Slatter for weeks led Rico to believe that perhaps he had been wrong, and his nemesis was either dead or had fled. If so, he was not needed here, and should be seeking some confirmation of Slatter’s whereabouts, dead or alive.
After an evening of losing three straight games of backgammon, Rico shoved back his chair in defeat. “You may have some shortcomings in the kitchen, Jenny, but you’re lethal at a backgammon board.”
“You crying uncle, Fraser?”
“He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day,” Rico recited. Then he sobered. “Why not do the same, Jenny?”
“I’m not the one losing, sir,” she teased.
“I’m referring to this situation between you and your father.”
The laughter left her eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Beg his forgiveness for being born?”
“How long can you go on living together like this? You said yourself you suspected since you were young that he didn’t love you. So it couldn’t have come as a big shock to you.”
“The ‘shock,’ Rico, was his reason for not loving me. How can I be blamed for my own birth? Isn’t that all in God’s hands?”
“Perhaps that’s the real problem your father’s unable to accept. Is he very religious?”
“If you’re talking about the Commandments, I’d have to say he lives pretty much by them. But if you’re talking faith, my father’s faith lies in himself. And as for morality, he’s been carrying on a relationship with Maude Evans for the past fifteen years, and condemning us for ours. That’s an example of his moral hypocrisy.”
“Then why remain here? As long as you do, you have to expect to make some compromise.”
She shoved away from the table and stood up. “For a while, you had me believing you understood. But I see the message is the same—you’re just delivering it more kindly.”
She left and went upstairs.
21
As Rico locked up the house for the night, he cursed himself. Why hadn’t he kept his thoughts to himself? He hadn’t meant to suggest she was the only one who needed to compromise. Nor had he made it clear that he felt Frank was wholly responsible for the bad feeling between them.
If grief had driven Frank to attach blame to his wife’s death, why hadn’t he blamed himself for getting her pregnant? But to heap that blame on the infant! He shook his head in disbelief.
Rico knew unless he made peace with Jenny it would prey on his conscience all night, so he tapped on her bedroom door. When there was no reply, he turned the knob.
The sight of her caused his heartbeat to quicken. She was asleep, the book she’d been reading still lying open on her lap. She’d brushed out her hair before retiring, and it now lay on her shoulders like a mantle.
He felt the draw at his loins when his gaze shifted to her bare shoulders and the swell of her breasts beneath her nightgown.
He sat on the edge of the bed, closed the book and put it on the nightstand, then leaned down and pressed a light kiss on her lips.
Startled, she opened her eyes. Her expression softened to a smile.
“I’m sorry for what I said, Jenny. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She caressed his cheek. “I know. This situation has put us all on edge. We mustn’t let it affect our feelings for each other.”
Rico kissed her, and the tantalizing heat of arousal began to wash through her body. He pulled her nightgown over her head, quickly divested himself of his clothing, and then stood above her, his worshipful gaze sweeping her nakedness in the lamplight. A shiver swept her spine and her nipples hardened as she returned his scrutiny with her own inspection of the muscular brawn of his chest, the mat of dark hair tapering down to his flat stomach, and the erection that already swelled between his legs. Her heartbeat quickened and she shifted restlessly, moistening her lips in anticipation.
“I knew I’d never be able to sleep if you went to bed angry with me,” he said, sitting on the bed.
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
Rico slowly trailed his finger down the column of her neck to the cleavage of her breasts. He circled each peak until her breath became gasps.
“And now that all is forgiven, I’d hate to leave without a proper good night.”
“Of course,” she agreed throatily.
The muscles of her stomach leapt beneath his finger as it slowly continued its descent. She parted her legs as it drew nearer and nearer to its destination, which was now throbbing in expectation.
He had her fully aroused already and he’d barely touched her. That was the power he had over her; the power she couldn’t resist—and didn’t want to.
Her restless movements turned to writhing as his finger began an erotic massage of her heated chamber, building her passion higher. She gasped under the siege of ecstatic whorls that spiraled through her.
Rico dipped his head and pressed a light kiss on the tip of each nipple, then on her navel. Then his hands closed firmly on her parted thighs and he lowered
his head between them. As his tongue teased her, the erotic sensation kept building until she was mindless. She grasped the metal frame of the headboard as if it were a lifeline to keep her from drowning in the rapture flooding her senses.
As her body imploded with wave upon wave of climatic tremors, she cried out his name again and again.
The crush of his lips silenced her cries and he rained kisses on her mouth, her eyes, on her neck, her throat. Then she felt the incredible warmth of his body on hers, pressing her deeper into the bed.
He rolled on his back when she clung to him, pulling her on top of him, and she smothered him with kisses, her seeking tongue finding his, her roaming hands caressing, possessing.
Driven by a passion out of control, she trailed quick kisses to his chest and stomach as she slithered down the length of him until she found his erection, then paused. It felt hot and throbbing in her hand. This was all so new and wondrous to her, but knowing the feel of it inside her spurred her to a greater boldness, and she put her lips on it.
His muffled groan was music to her ears, and she gloried to the sound of it, her excitement escalating with satisfaction at seeing how she could reduce him to the same mindless rapture he always aroused in her.
Driven now by her newly discovered sense of power, her exploration grew bolder and increased in intensity.
With a sound that was more a growl than a groan, he flipped her onto her back and entered her. And locked together, they soared to rapturous fulfillment.
Exhausted, Jenny lay curled against Rico’s side as he slept, her head nestled on his chest and the comfort of his arm holding her close.
This is the most contented moment I have ever known.
Even if they were never intimate again, these glorious moments in his arms would remain in her heart forever.
“Trust me.” That simple phrase he had uttered during their lovemaking—when she tottered between sanity and madness—now danced melodiously in her head.