by Diana Palmer
Oddly that made things worse. He started picking at her, and not in any teasing way. It got so bad that Leo and Rey took him aside and called him on it. He thought Tess had put them up to it, and blamed her. She withdrew into herself and sat alone in her room at night crocheting an afghan while she watched old black-and-white movies on the little television set her father had given her for Christmas four years ago. She spent less time with the brothers than ever, out of self-defense. But Cag’s attitude hurt. She wondered if he was trying to make her quit, even though it was his idea to get her into school in the fall quarter. Perhaps, she thought miserably, he meant her to live in at the school dormitory and quit her job. The thought brought tears to her eyes and made her misery complete.
It was a beautiful summer day when haying got underway on the ranch to provide winter forage for the cattle. It hadn’t rained for over a week and a half, and while the danger of drought was ever present, this was a necessary dry spell. The hay would rot in the field if it rained. Besides, it was a comfortable heat, unseasonably cool. Even so, it was hot enough for shorts.
Tess had on a pair of denim cutoffs that she’d made from a torn pair of jeans, and she was wearing socks and sneakers and a gray tank top. She looked young and fresh and full of energy, bouncing across the hayfield with the small red cooler in her hands. She hadn’t wanted to go near Cag, but Leo had persuaded her that his older brother would be dying of thirst out there in the blazing sun with nothing to drink. He sent a reluctant Tess out to him with a cooler full of supplies.
Cag, driving the tractor that was scooping the hay into huge round bales, stopped and let the engine idle when he saw her coming toward him. He was alone in the field, having sent two other men into adjacent fields to bale hay in the same fashion. It was blazing hot in the sun, despite his wide-brimmed straw hat. He was bare-chested and still pouring sweat. He’d forgotten to bring anything along to drink, and he hadn’t really expected anyone to think about sending him something. He smiled ruefully to himself, certain that Tess wouldn’t have thought of it on her own. She was still too nervous of him to come this close willingly, especially considering the way he’d treated her since that unfortunate kiss in the pasture.
It wasn’t that he disliked her. It was that he liked her far too much. He ached every time he looked at her, especially since he’d kissed her. He found himself thinking about it all the time. She was years younger, another generation. Some nice boy would come along and she’d go head over heels. He had to remember that and not let a few minutes of remembered pleasure blind him to reality. Tess was too young for him. Period.
He cut off the tractor and jumped down as she approached him. Her eyes seemed to flicker as they brushed his sweaty chest, thick with black hair that ran down into his close-fitting jeans.
He wiped his hand on a work cloth. “Brought survival gear, did you?” he asked.
“Just a couple of cans of beer and two sandwiches,” she said tautly. “Leo asked me to.”
“Naturally,” he drawled sarcastically. “I’d hardly expect you to volunteer.”
She bit her lower lip to keep from arguing with him. She was keenly aware of his dislike. She offered the cooler.
He took it from her, noticing how she avoided touching him as it changed hands.
“Go back along the path,” he said, irritated by his own concern for her. “I’ve seen two big rattlesnakes since I started. They won’t like the sun, so they’ll be in a cool place. And that—” he indicated her shorts and sneakers “—is stupid gear to wear in a pasture. You should have on thick jeans and boots. Good God, you weren’t even looking where your feet were!”
“I was watching the ravens,” she said defensively, indicating two of them lighting and flying away in the field.
“They’re after field mice.” His narrowed black eyes cut into her flushed, averted face. “You’re all but shaking. What the hell’s wrong with you today?” he demanded.
Her eyes shot back up to his and she stepped back. “Nothing. I should go.”
He realized belatedly that the sight of him without his shirt was affecting her. He didn’t have to ask why. He already knew. Her hands had been shyly exploring his chest, even through the shirt, the day he’d kissed her, and she’d wanted to unfasten it. But she’d acted as if she couldn’t bear to be near him ever since. She avoided him and it made him furious.
“Why don’t you run along home?” he asked curtly. “You’ve done your duty, after all.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“Hell!” He put the cooler down. “You can’t be bothered to come within five feet of me unless somebody orders you to.” He bit off the words, glaring at her. He was being unreasonable, but he couldn’t help himself. “You won’t bring me coffee in the office when I’m working unless the door’s open and one of my brothers is within shouting distance. What do you expect, you scrawny little redhead, that the sight of you maddens me with such passion that I’m likely to ravish you on the floor? You don’t even have a woman’s body yet!” he muttered, his eyes on her small, pert breasts under the tank top.
She saw where he was looking and it wounded her. The whiplash of his voice hit her like a brick. She stared at him uncomprehendingly, her eyes wounded. “I never…never said…” she stammered.
“As if you could make me lose my head,” he continued coldly, his voice like a sharp blade as his eyes went over her disparagingly.
Her face flamed and the eyes that met his were suddenly clouded not with anger, but with pain. Tears flooded them and she whirled with a sob, running in the direction from which she’d come.
She hated him! Hated him! He was the enemy. He’d never wanted her here and now he was telling her that she didn’t even attract him. How obvious it was now that he’d only been playing with her when he kissed her. He didn’t want her, or need her, or even like her, and she was dying of love for him! She felt sick inside. She couldn’t control her tears or the sobs that broke from her lips as she ran blindly into the small sweep of thick hay that he hadn’t yet cut.
She heard his voice, yelling something, but she was too upset to hear him. Suddenly her foot hit something that gave and she stopped dead, whirling at a sound like frying bacon that came from the ground beside her.
The ugly flat, venomous head reared as the tail that shot up from the coil rattled its deadly warning. A rattler—five feet long at least—and she’d stepped on it! Its head drew back ominously and she was frozen with fear, too confused to act. If she moved it would strike. If she didn’t move it would strike. She could already feel the pain in her leg where the fangs would penetrate….
She was vaguely aware of a drumming sound like running, heavy footsteps. Through her tears she saw the sudden flash of something metallic go past her. The snake and its head abruptly parted company, and then long, powerful arms were around her, under her, lifting her to a sweat-glistening hard chest that was under her cheek.
“God!”
Cag’s arms contracted. He was hurting her and she didn’t care. Her arms tightened around his neck and she sobbed convulsively. He curled her against him in an ardent fever of need, feeling her soft breasts press hard into his bare, sweaty, hair-roughened chest as his face burrowed into her throat. She thought he trembled, but surely she imagined it. The terror came full force now that the threat was over, and she gave way to her misery.
They clung to each other in the hot sunlight with the sultry breeze wafting around them, oblivious to the man running toward them. Tess felt the warm, hard muscles in his back strain as she touched them, felt Cag’s breath in her ear, against her hair. His cheek drew across hers and her nails dug into him. His indrawn breath was audible. His arms contracted again, and this time it wasn’t comfort, it was a deep, dragging hunger that found an immediate response in her.
His face moved against hers jerkily, dragging down from her cheek, so that his lower lip slowly, achingly, began to draw itself right across her soft, parted mouth. Her breath drew in sharply at
the exquisite feel of it. She wanted his lips on hers, the way they had been that spring day by the stream. She wanted to kiss him until her young body stopped aching.
He hesitated. His hand was resting at the edge of her breast and even as the embrace became hungry, she stopped breathing altogether as she felt his hard lips suddenly part and search for hers, felt the caressing pressure of those lean fingers begin to move up….
On the edge of the abyss, a barely glimpsed movement in the distance brought Cag’s dark head up and he saw Leo running toward them. He was almost trembling with the need to take Tess’s soft mouth, but he forced himself to breathe normally. All the hot emotion slowly drained out of his face, and he stared at his young brother as if he didn’t recognize him for the first few seconds.
“What was it, a rattler?” Leo asked, panting for breath as he came up beside them.
Cag nodded his head toward the snake. It lay in two pieces, one writhing like mad in the hot sun. Between the two pieces was the big hunting knife that Cag always carried when he was working alone in the fields.
“Whew!” Leo whistled, shaking his head. “Pretty accurate, for a man who was running when he threw it. I saw you from the south field,” he added.
“I’ve killed a few snakes in my time,” Cag replied, and averted his eyes before Leo could ask if any of them had had two legs. “Here,” he murmured to Tess, his voice unconsciously tender. “Are you all right?”
She sniffed and wiped her red eyes and nodded. She was embarrassed, because at the last, it hadn’t been comfort that had brought them so close together. It was staggering after the things he said, the harshness of his manner before she’d stepped on the snake.
Cag put her down gingerly and moved back, but his turbulent eyes never left her.
“It didn’t strike you?” he asked belatedly, and went on one knee to search over her legs.
“No,” she faltered. The feel of those hard fingers on her skin made her weak. “No, I’m fine.” She was looking down at him with eyes full of emotion. He was beautiful, she thought dazedly, and when he started to stand up again, her eyes lingered helplessly on that broad, sexy chest with its fine covering of hair. Her hand had touched it just as he put her down, and her fingers still tingled.
“Heavens, Tess!” Leo breathed, taking off his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. “You don’t run across a hayfield like that, without looking where you’re going! When we cut hay, we always find half a dozen of the damned things!”
“It’s not her fault,” Cag said in a surprisingly calm voice. “I upset her.”
She didn’t look at Cag. She couldn’t. She turned to Leo with a wan smile. “Could you walk me back, just to the track that leads up to the house?” she asked. “I’m a little shaky.”
“Sure,” he said gently. “I’ll carry you, if you like.”
“No, I can walk.” She turned away. With her back to Cag she added carefully, “Thanks for what you did. I’ve never seen anybody use a knife like that. It would have had me just a second later.”
Cag didn’t say anything. He turned away and retrieved his knife, wiping it on his jeans before he stuck it back into the sheath on his belt. He stalked back toward the tractor. He never looked back.
“What did he do to upset you?” Leo asked when they were out of earshot.
“The usual things,” she said with resignation in her voice. “I can’t imagine why he doesn’t fire me,” she added. “First he said I could go in the spring, but we got too busy, then he said I could go in the summer. But here it is, and I’m still here.”
He didn’t mention that he had his own suspicions about that. Cag was in deep, and quite obviously fighting a defensive battle where Tess was concerned. But he’d seen the look on Cag’s face when he was holding her, and dislike was not what it looked like to him.
“Did you see him throw the knife?” she asked, still awed by the skill of it. “Dad used to have a throwing knife and he could never quite get the hang of hitting the target. Neither could I. It’s a lot harder than it looks. He did it running.”
“He’s a combat veteran,” he said. “He’s still in the reserves. Nothing about Cag surprises us anymore.”
She glanced at him with twinkling eyes. “Did you really hit Turkey Sanders to keep Cag from doing it?”
“Dorie told you!” He chuckled.
“Yes. She said you don’t let Cag get into fights.”
“We don’t dare. He doesn’t lose his temper much, but when he does, it’s best to get out of the line of fire.”
“Yes, I know,” she said uneasily, still remembering the birthday cake.
He glanced at her. “You’ve had a hard time.”
“With him?” She shrugged. “He’s not so bad. Not as bad as he was around Christmas,” she added. “I guess I’m getting used to sarcasm and insults. They bounce off these days.”
He made a rough sound under his breath. “Maybe he’ll calm down eventually.”
“It doesn’t matter. I like my job. It pays well.”
He laughed, sliding a friendly arm around her shoulders as they walked. “At least there are compensations.”
Neither of them saw a pair of black eyes across the field glaring after them hotly. Cag didn’t like that arm around Tess, not one bit. He was going to have something to say to Leo about it later.
Blissfully unaware, Leo stopped at the trail that led back to the house. “Okay now?” he asked Tess. “Yes, thanks.”
He studied her quietly. “It may get worse before it gets better, especially now,” he said with some concern.
“What do you mean?”
“Never you mind,” he replied, and his eyes held a secret amusement.
That evening, after the brothers cleaned up and had supper, Cag motioned Leo into the study and closed the door.
“Something wrong?” Leo asked, puzzled by his brother’s taciturn silence since the afternoon.
Cag perched himself on the edge of his desk and stared, unblinking, at the younger man.
“Something,” he agreed. Now that he was facing the subject, he didn’t want to talk about it. He looked as disturbed as he felt.
“It’s Tess, isn’t it?” Leo asked quietly.
“She’s twenty-two,” Cag said evenly, staring hard at his brother. “And green as spring hay. Don’t hit on her.”
It was the last thing Leo expected the older man to say. “Don’t what?” he asked, just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.
Cag looked mildly uncomfortable. “You had your arm around her on the way out of the field.”
Leo’s dark eyes twinkled. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” He pursed his lips and glanced at his brother with pure calculation. “She’s a soft little thing, like a kitten.”
Cag’s face hardened and his eyes became dangerous. “She’s off limits. Got that?”
Leo lifted both eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because she’s a virgin,” Cag said through his teeth. “And she works for us.”
“I’m glad you remembered those things this afternoon,” Leo returned. “But it’s a shame you’d forgotten all about them until you saw me coming toward you. Or are you going to try and convince me that you weren’t about to kiss the breath out of her?”
Cag’s teeth ground together. “I was comforting her!”
“Is that what you call it?” came the wry response. “Son of a gun. I’m glad I have you to tell me these things.”
“I wasn’t hitting on her!”
Leo held up both hands. “Of course not!”
“If she’s too young for you, she’s damned sure too young for me.”
“Was I arguing?”
Cag unruffled a little. “Anyway, she wants to go to school and study horticulture in the fall. She may not want to stay on here, once she gets a taste of younger men.”
Why, he really believed that, Leo thought, his attention diverted. Didn’t he see the way Tess looked at him, the way she acted around him lately? Or was he trying no
t to see it?
“She won’t have to wait for that to happen,” Leo murmured. “We hired a new assistant sales manager last week, remember? Sandy Gaines?”
Cag scowled. “The skinny blond fellow?”
“Skinny, sure, but he seems to have plenty of charm when it comes to our Tess. He brought her a teddy bear from his last trip to St. Louis, and he keeps asking her out. So far she won’t go.”
Cag didn’t want to think about Tess with another man, especially the new salesman. “She could do worse, I guess,” he said despite his misgivings.
“You might ask her out yourself,” Leo suggested carelessly.
Cag’s dark eyes held a world of cynicism. “I’m thirty-eight and she works for me.”
Leo only smiled.
Cag turned away to the fireplace and stared down at the gas logs with resignation. “Does it show?” he asked after a minute.
That he cared for her, he meant. Leo smiled affectionately. “Only to someone who knows you pretty well. She doesn’t. You won’t let her close enough,” Leo added.
Broad shoulders rose and fell. His eyes lifted to the huge painting of a running herd of horses tearing across a stormy plain. A great-uncle had painted it. Its wildness appealed to the brothers.
“She’s grass green,” Cag said quietly. “Anybody could turn her head right now. But it wouldn’t last. She’s too immature for anything…serious.” He turned and met his brother’s curious eyes. “The thing is,” he said curtly, “that I can’t keep my head if I touch her.”
“So you keep her carefully at a distance to avoid complications.”
Cag hesitated. Then he nodded. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and paced. “I don’t know what else to do. Maybe if we get her into school this fall, it will help. I was thinking we might even get her a job somewhere else.”