by Lisa Kleypas
I met you once before, when I was a little girl and you were an old woman, Addie wanted to blurt out. You're my grandmother. And that baby you're carrying is my mother. She could hardly keep her eyes off Caroline, and she stared until the other woman frowned curiously.
"Somethin' the matter?"
"I… No. I just wanted to know what… what you're going to name the baby."
"I'm not sure," Caroline said thoughtfully. "Somethin' from the Bible. I like Bible names. If it's a boy, David. If it's a girl, Rachel. Maybe Ruth."
Rachel or Ruth. But her mother's name had been Sarah. Addie chewed her lip pensively and listened to Caroline and May talk about other possible names until breakfast arrived. Her stomach turned at the sight before her. Ham, fried potatoes, fried eggs, and hotcakes topped with a lump of melting butter. She'd never seen such an overloaded plate, except for the one she had been served the night before. Could it be that they ate like this all the time? She and Leah had found it difficult to keep their tiny kitchen stocked with basics like butter, sugar, eggs, and coffee. They had eaten meagerly. They had saved the scraps.
"I can't eat all this."
"Ain't no more than you usually have, Miss Adeline," the maid remarked matter-of-factly, and set down a pitcher of corn syrup beside Addie's plate.
"I'd rather have black coffee."
"You need to have somethin' in your stomach," May said. "You're going to the Double Bar this mornin' to go riding with Jeff Johnson, aren't you?"
Who was Jeff Johnson? Addie frowned slightly.
Something Leah had once told her about Adeline Warner ran through her mind. The men went crazy for her. And 0l' Man Johnson-when he was young, he lost his head over her. …
0l' Man Johnson had been fat, unkempt, and very rich. Could that be the same Johnson they were talking about now?
"I don't remember making any plans to see him," Addie said uncomfortably. "I don't feel like going anywhere. I don't think he'd mind, do you? I don't feel well this morning, at least not well enough to go riding with anyone-"
"You told me yesterday you had promised him," May said, and although her voice was soft, there was no mistaking the unyielding note in it. "A lady doesn't go back on her promises, Adeline, and it's not right to change your mind this late. And you know you'll have a good time once you're with him, sugar."
"You and Daddy are just hoping a romance will start up between 'em," Caroline said, laughing.
"I happen to think Jeff might make a good husband.
His mother is a well-bred woman who raised him to be a gentleman-"
"And Daddy likes the thought of a daughter of his married to the man who'll inherit the Double Bar someday."
"That may be," May admitted. "But all the same, Adeline promised him, and she's got to start honoring her promises."
"Did I really tell him yes, or did I just say I would consider his invitation?" Addie asked desperately, hoping to find some way, any way, out of the coming disaster. She was a terrible rider, close to incompetent.
"You jumped all over his invitation," Caroline said dryly. "And talked about it all yesterday mornin' until you went to town."
"I've been feeling differently about things since then."
"No more arguing about it." May was determined to be firm. "You'll leave as soon as you can change into your riding clothes and get Diaz to escort you to the Double Bar. That man ought to be good for somethin' around here besides sitting on the porch and tellin' stories."
"She could ride over with Ben," Caroline suggested. "I heard Ben say he had some business over there he was going to take care of this mornin'. I don't think he's left yet."
"No!" Addie felt herself turn pale. "No, I can't do that. I'm not going with him. "
"Don't be difficult, sugar," May coaxed. "I know you aren't partial to him, but-"
"I don't know why she dislikes him so much." Caroline rolled her eyes and grinned. "If I ever saw a man worth chasin', it's Ben. With that black hair and those green eyes-and those shoulders-why, I dare you to find a thing wrong with him."
Addie was left speechless. There was nothing wrong with Ben, unless you considered strangling someone with a guitar string a small character flaw.
"Adeline has no need to chase after a ranch foreman," May said, giving Caroline a stern glance. "She's going to marry just as well as you have, Caro, and that means someone with better prospects than Ben."
"Ben's got an education," Caroline pointed out mildly, immediately rebuffed. "And he works hard, from can-see to can't-see. And everyone likes him-"
"Where did he get his education?" Addie interrupted.
"He's never said exactly where, but I suspect-"
"That's enough talking about Ben," May said shortly. "You know better than to encourage your sister in that direction, Caro. Ben's young, but he's a seasoned loner. Men like him constantly have to sleep on new ground. A cowhand's just a nomad, and nothin' can change that. "
"Daddy seems to think he's settled here for a while," Caroline pointed out.
"Your father and I don't always agree on such things. Now Adeline, if you're not going to eat, then run up to change."
Addie nodded, standing up from the table. I'm going to get away from all of this. I'm going to run as far as I can, just as soon as I get a chance to be alone. Of all the things she didn't know, including who she was, how she had come to be here, where the real Adeline Warner was, and what had happened to Leah, she knew one thing for certain. Ben Hunter was a murderer, and she didn't want to be anywhere near him.
Going back upstairs to the pink bedroom, she hunted reluctantly for some appropriate clothes, finally locating a brown riding skirt with a looped-up train, a cream-colored blouse, well-worn boots, and a flat topped hat. Right next to the boots were three pairs of spurs with star-shaped rowels, each pair made in a different style. Picking up one of the them by the heel bank, Addie examined it closely. It was like a finely worked piece of jewelry, silver engraved with flowers and elaborate scrolls. The points of the rowels were darkened with dried blood and horse hair. A spasm of disgust crossed her face, and she set the spur down by the others.
"Adeline," came May's muffled voice through the door.
"What, M-Mama?" Good Lord, how difficult it was to call someone that.
"I told Ben you'd be goin' with him. He's saddlin' up Jessie for you. Hurry, sugar, and don't make him wait. "
“After yesterday, that's the last thing I plan to do."
"That's my good girl."
Addie's heart was heavy with dread as she changed her clothes and stuck several extra pins in her hair to keep her twisted chignon in place. Wild ideas of how to avoid being with Ben raced through her mind, but none of them were even remotely plausible. Suddenly she asked herself why she was afraid of him. He wouldn't dare do anything to hurt her now, in broad daylight, with everyone knowing where they were.
Ben's way was the coward's way. He would sneak up on someone if he was of a mind to hurt. him. A spurt of hatred gave her courage. She would have to stick it out. She would have to survive whatever might happen. And there was no real danger for her. If history was following in the same course as before, Ben's intention was to kill Russell, not her.
Shoving her foot into a leather boot, Addie worked it on until it was firmly in place, then did the same with the other one. As she stood up and wiggled her toes, she realized how odd it was that they fit so perfectly. No two people's feet were alike, and yet the soles of these boots were worn in the same places that her own shoes had always been. They conformed perfectly to each arch, every line of her feet. Addie walked over to the mirror and looked at herself, surprised by her own reflection.
Where was that girl with the bright red lips and flesh-colored stockings, the girl who had worn dropped-waist dresses that showed off her legs and made her look so boyishly slender? The woman in the mirror looked fussy and old-fashioned, a feminine doll with protruding breasts and a nipped-in waist. Though the riding outfit was less confining than t
he other clothes in the closet, she still felt helpless, bound by the starched underclothes. What she wouldn't give for the silk knickers and short skirts she was used to wearing!
It was wrong for a woman to be forced into this image, this ripe and maternal appearance, this false voluptuousness. This kind of woman was passive and appealing, an exaggeration of femininity, an object for men to admire, desire, dominate. How long could she last like this? How long before she suffocated in corsets and crinolines?
Addie went out of the house and headed for the bam, her steps slowing as she saw Ben Hunter already seated on a horse and leading another by the reins. Similar to any other experienced cowboy, Ben looked natural on a horse, comfortable and supremely confident. The chestnut mare he was leading was an unusually light color, almost golden, a high-stepping animal with plenty of spirit evident in the toss of her head and the jaunty way she moved.
She was magnificent, and to Addie, terrifying. It had been so long since she had ridden, not that she had ever been good at it, and it would take hours of practice to reacquaint herself with all that was involved. And to have to get on that horse with Ben watching… Her heart was thumping so fast she could feel it in every part of her body.
"You forgot your can openers," Ben said, his insolent green eyes flickering down to her boots.
She had never seen a man as handsome as he was, with the brim of his hat shading his eyes and a crisp white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and his lithe body clad in snug-fitting Levi's with buckskin patches on the knees.
"Can open… oh, you mean my spurs," Addie stammered, hating herself for being so jittery around him. "I'm not wearing them anymore. They're cruel and… and unnecessary."
"You told me last week you couldn't ride a horse like Jessie without them."
"Jessie and I will get along just fine without them," she muttered, walking up to the chestnut and stroking her nose. The horse tossed her head away irritably. "Be nice, Jessie. Are you going to be a good girl for me today? Are you-"
"You two can carryon a conversation later. Let's get going."
Slowly Addie walked around to the left side of the horse. It was the left side you were supposed to mount on, wasn't it? She struggled to remember some of the things she had once been told about riding. Don't let the horse know you are afraid. Let Jessie know who is master. Jessie's ears perked up as she sensed Addie approaching.
"There's a sidesaddle on her," Addie said, her stomach clenching at the sight. She had no idea how to ride sidesaddle.
"That's the kind you always use. You've insisted on it ever since the academy. "
"No, I can't today. Put another kind on her. Anything else."
Ben's face hardened. "I don't have time for your games this morning. I don't have time to pander to your whims, no matter how much you enjoy giving orders. If you don't like it, complain to Daddy later. But for now, get on that horse."
"I despise you," Addie said fervently.
"That fancy private school didn't teach you much in the way of manners, did it?"
"I don't owe you an ounce of courtesy. You don't show the least bit for me. As far as I can tell, you're more insolent than a man in your position has a right to be, Mr. Hunter."
"Mr. Hunter," he repeated, and a jeering smile flashed across his face. "So we're on formal terms now."
She threw him a scornful glance. "Were we ever on anything else?"
"I seem to remember that we were, if only for the space of five minutes. That day in the barn… remember, Miss Adeline? I've never seen anyone get riled so quickly, and all because I wasn't tempted by the way you throw yourself at a man."
"I never did anything like that!" she burst out, horrified. Was he actually saying that she had tried to seduce him? "I would never throw myself at you, of all people!"
"Deny it," he said, and shrugged carelessly. "It doesn't change what happened."
"That wasn't me!"
His speculative gaze lingered on her indignant face.
"Same big brown eyes, same honey-colored hair, same cute little figure. Could have sworn it was you. "
Her face was cold with distaste. What a liar he was.
"And you say you refused me?"
"Hard for you to accept, hmmn?"
"Someone like you would have jumped at any offer from your employer's daughter."
"Like I told you then, I have no interest in spoiled, hard-hearted little girls."
"Well I have no interest in greedy, insolent ranch hands with swelled heads."
His eyes flashed dangerously. "You're hardly in a position to fault anyone for greed, Miss Adeline."
"Why do you say that?"
"You have to ask?" His brow arched. No doubt he was silently reminding her of some past incident.
"I have nothing on you," she said brashly. "You'd do anything for a piece of this ranch."
There was a harsh silence between them as his gaze locked with hers.
"Get on the damn horse," he said softly.
Her anger gave her the strength to swing up into the saddle and hook her knee into place before she had second thoughts about what she was doing. The ground seemed miles away. Nervously Jessie danced around while Addie tried to soothe her. A thousand prayers for mercy flashed through Addie's mind. The horse was nothing but a massive bulk of muscle and tension, ready to explode out of her rider's control, and both Addie and Jessie knew it. The sidesaddle offered only precarious balance. It would be a miracle if she managed to stay on the horse.
"Good Jessie, good girl. Easy, Jessie," she murmured through stiff lips, yanking on the reins in an effort to calm the animal.
"For God's sake, whatever your problem is, don't take it out on the horse. I've never seen you so heavy handed with her before.
Ignoring him and pulling harder on the reins, Addie somehow managed to turn the horse around, and with a jerk that nearly unbalanced her rider, Jessie shot forward. As they galloped away from the stable in a mad, out-of-control flight, Addie was aware of Ben riding parallel to her.
"What's the matter with you?" he snapped. "Slow down. You're not in a race. At this race you'll wear her out before we're halfway there."
She strained her arms with all her might as she tightened the reins, relieved when Jessie, however reluctantly, obeyed the command. They slowed to a canter and Addie worked at catching her breath. If she could just get through this morning, she promised herself, she would never ride again.
"Why the hurry?" Ben inquired sardonically. "Can't wait to see Jeff?"
"Why do you ask in that way? What do you think about Jeff Johnson?"
"You wouldn't be interested."
"I might be." Carrying on a conversation, no matter how unpleasant, might help take her mind of the predicament she was in. "What do you think of him?"
"He's a jackass with a hot temper and a big mouth."
"Because he might not always agree with your opinions?"
"Because he has the damnedest habit of flaunting his ignore-ance whenever he gets the chance. He's never known what it's like to work for anything in his life. Which is why you're perfect for each other. "
His words stung. "You don't know anything about me or what I've done." She thought of the hours at the hospital she had spent nursing, the backbreaking hours of carrying buckets and changing beds. The strain of pretending she was unaffected by patients' wounds, their sickness and pain. She'd always been mild and gentle with them, no matter how tired or frustrated she was. And then there were the days she had spent at home, taking in extra sewing to supplement her income when Leah's medical bills began rising. Addie could remember hunching over the sewing machine until her back ached, plying needle and thread until her eyes were sore. She had done it all without indulging too often in self-pity, but now to be accused of never having worked was unbearable.
"I asked what you thought about Jeff Johnson, not me," she said coldly. "You're jealous of him, aren't you? You wish you had all that he has."
He gave her a measuring glance
. "No, ma'am. There's nothing of his I'd have on a silver platter."
Including you, was the silent implication. She looked ahead, her grip tightening on the reins. Her anger must have communicated itself to Jessie, for the rhythm of her hooves began to quicken until they were galloping. Instantly Addie knew she'd lost control of the horse, and she felt a stab of panic. She jerked on the reins, putting her weight into it, but Jessie ignored the frantic signal. Addie hissed every curse she knew through her teeth.
"What are you doing?" she heard Ben demand, but she couldn't answer. She yanked the straps of leather in her hands with all her strength, and suddenly the horse stopped and reared with an angry whinny. Desperately Addie tried to cling to the ridiculous little saddle. As soon as the horse's forelegs touched the ground, she was bucked off the animals' back. She was too stunned to make a sound. For a moment she was weightless, paralyzed in anticipation of hitting the ground. Then came the hard slam of her body as she landed. Pain seared through her in a burning streak, followed by the sickening sensation of having the wind knocked out of her. Curled in a fetal position, she lay motionless, her eyes closed as she tried to recover herself.
Addie felt herself being turned over carefully, and she choked on her first breath. Ben was beside her on the ground, murmuring something in a quiet voice. There was pain all through her body, and a terrible ache in her chest. In her struggle to breathe there was nothing left but fear and a terrible sense of aloneness. Nothing was worse than being alone with pain. Her eyes slitted open, and she saw Ben's dark face above her, but she couldn't have moved had her life depended on it.
"What kind of game are you playing?" he muttered. "You could have been hurt, you little idiot."
Her throat opened with a gasp, and she was finally able to fill her lungs with air. Rapid breaths scoured her throat, and she shuddered from the burn of it. The pressure of tears built up behind her eyes, but she couldn't let herself cry, not in front of him. Shakily she covered her eyes with her palms, aware of the masculine form bent over her. Oh, for Ben of all people to see her like this… he would laugh at her… perhaps even now he was silently laughing at her misery. Embarrassment and confusion swept over her. No more. It's not going to work. I can't pretend anymore. I can't lie anymore. Her lips trembled as she fought against a wave of anguish.