by Janet Dailey
"We'll, you've earned your first bonus, Brig. How do you feel about that?" Fletcher asked in cheerful challenge.
Brig was seated on a log stump, close to the blazing fire. Jordanna was sitting on the ground close by him, her shoulder not far from his thigh. She wished her father hadn't introduced that subject of money into the conversation, even in jest It sounded crass.
After a hesitation, Brig answered, "Fine. "
"We should have had sheep meat for supper tonight, " Jocko changed the subject "Have you ever eaten it?" He addressed the question to Jordanna as he refilled her tin mug with coffee from a speckled pot
"No. "
"I think it is the best of all wild meat, as good as corn-fed beef. There is very little wild taste to it, " Jocko said.
"So speaks the shepherd, " Max mocked the praise. "It is not like mutton. "
"But that bighorn sheep was old. The meat would have been tough, not worth cooking, " Max continued his disparagement of sheep meat.
"Once this whole West was populated with bighorn sheep, " Fletcher mused. "They were spread from the Dakotas to the Missouri River breaks, anywhere the land was rough and wild. They were more plentiful than deer. The Shoshone Indians—the Sheepeaters— hunted them the way the plains Indians hunted buffalo. Then man invaded the area with his cattle ranches and sheep. The bighorn sheep were driven out by overgrazed land and disease. "
"Their scarcity and their elusiveness are what makes them such prized trophies, " Brig pointed out.
"It's a shame their numbers can't come back the way the deer has, " Jordanna mused.
"It could, " her father insisted.
"How?" Kit asked.
"Look at Idaho. With the exception of some farming land in the south, it's basically marginal country, not good for much other than grazing a few cows or sheep. If the government stopped leasing this land to the ranchers for graze, the food supply for the bighorn and other wild game would increase. Also the dangers of infecting the wild sheep with disease from a domestic flock would be eliminated, " he argued.
"In other words, you're saying, eliminate the cattle and sheep industry in Idaho. " Brig gave him a lazy look of cool challenge.
Fletcher laughed, a trifle self-consciously. "I forgot there was a rancher in our midst, but yes, that is what I'm saying. Big game hunting would do much more for the economy than the cattleman or shepherd. It would bring in money for license fees, outfitters, taxidermy costs, travel, motels, equipment, and so on. Big game hunting is big business, and would bring more cash to an area than a simple cattle ranch. Livestock and land developers are the enemies of wild animals. "
"That would be something" Max gazed dreamily into the fire. "The whole State of Idaho turned into a giant game preserve, where the wealthy of the world would come to hunt"
Jordanna could see the gleam of dollar signs in his eyes. His comment didn't make her father's plan sound very altruistic.
"It wouldn't have to be confined to Idaho. There are thousands of acres in other western states that are equally suited to bighorns and other prize wild game. The bighorn, the grizzly, and the elk could all make a comeback, " her father insisted, "along with the mountain goat, the cougar, and the wolf. "
It sounded like a hunter's paradise—on the surface. Jordanna heard Brig's breath of disgust. He lifted his head, the flames casting light on his contemptuous expression, as his hard gaze flicked from Max to Fletcher.
"There are people in this country and millions in other parts of the world that are starving. You want to eliminate a cattle and sheep industry that can feed and clothe thousands of people so a handful of wealthy 'gentlemen' can indulge in a game of killing for sport. The little guys are around for you to step on and get a better view, aren't they?" He pushed to his feet, regarding them with scorn before cold cynicism curved his mouth. "What scares the hell out of me is that you could probably buy enough politicians to pull it off. " Brig emptied the bottom of his cup into the fire, the hot embers sizzling. "Excuse me, but I need some fresh air. "
Moving with the silence of a stalker, he left the circle of the campfire and faded into the night's darkness. The moon disappeared behind a cloud bank. Tandy muttered something about checking the horses and Jocko began clattering the pots and pans to fill the heavy silence. Brushing the dust from her hands, Jordanna rose and wandered toward the tents. Her gaze drifted in the direction Brig had taken, but she didn't follow him. She glanced at the tree where the horns and hide of the bighorn were. Suddenly she didn't feel very proud of the kill.
Behind her, she could hear her father and Max talking in much lower voices than before. Footsteps crunched on the rough ground behind her, where the pine needles had been swept away. She turned and saw her brother.
"That was quite a speech, wasn't it?" He watched her closely, his expression gentle.
"Yes. " She shivered as a cold wind brushed her cheek. "I think I'm finally beginning to understand what you've been telling me all along. "
"Do you?"
"Hunting for sport should have more purpose than just killing an animal to hang it on the wall and put money in someone's pockets. It should put food on the table, " Jordanna said.
"I don't think I ever phrased it the way Brig did tonight, but it's what I meant, " Kit nodded. "He's quite a man, Jordanna. "
"Yes. " She stared into the night
There were very few details about him that she knew, but she felt she knew the essentials. He was strong enough to be gentle, cruel enough to be kind, and powerful enough to be vulnerable. He was hard, but it was the hardness of a solid rock. And she loved him. The knowledge came gently to her, warm and glowing, and burning ever brighter. It shimmered in her eyes when she turned to Kit.
"He's the best of his kind, Kit, perhaps the only one. "
"You could be right. "
"I... " Jordanna paused. There didn't seem to be anything more to say. Nothing more was necessary. "... I think I'll turn in. Good night, Kit. "
"Good night" Her brother lingered for a minute after she turned toward the small tent, then wandered back to the campfire.
Jordanna stopped to collect the bulky sleeping bags. She had hung them out that morning to air and dry out the moisture from their bodies, before an accumulation of dampness affected the insulating capabilities. Maneuvering them inside the tent, she laid them out on the mattress of pine needles. Jordanna stripped to her longjohns and crawled inside the warmth of the double bag to brush her hair. She felt lost in the roominess of the doubled sleeping bags.
Setting her brush aside, she lay on her back to stare at a hole in the tent roof and wait for Brig. It was an hour before he entered the tent. The absence of light gave him a dark, looming shape. She wanted to talk, but she felt oddly tongue-tied. Brig, too, was silent as he undressed and slid his long frame inside the pocket opening of the sleeping bag. He made no attempt to come close to her.
"Brig?" Her voice was so low, it vibrated.
He moved, turning to her. His hand unerringly found her waist and pulled her to him. His mouth bruised her lips and Jordanna accepted his angry possession. Rough kisses chased each other over her face.
"You're a drug, Jordanna, that's been injected into my system, " Brig muttered. "I get high on you... and damn every minute of the addiction. "
"What if... " Her fingers trembled over his hard, lean features, memorizing them by touch. "... I told you that I thought I was... half in love with you? What would you say?"
She felt his momentary stillness. Lifting his mouth from her skin, he breathed out a silent sound. "That you might have been in the mountains too long. It might be that all we have is a physical addiction—not an emotional dependency. Let's don't be quick to confuse the two, " he cautioned.
There was an ache in her throat because Jordanna knew it wasn't true for her. "Is that what you think?"
A roaming hand found its way inside the waistband of her long underwear. "It's possible, " Brig murmured against her mouth.
The word
s to convince him died on her lips as Jordanna became lost in the seductive prowess of his touch. Her bones melted when they came in contact with his hard length. The erratic pulsing of her heart fluttered against her ribcage as his hard lips claimed hers. She held nothing back, glorifying in the blazing fires of his passion. Love ran molten-hot through her veins. Every particle of her body gave in to him, selflessly, asking nothing more in return than his possesion. Brig's answer was satisfaction—for both of them.
Afterwards they rested in each other's arms. The caress of his hands was absently gentle, no longer demanding.
"Your father promised me a bonus for a ram with a forty-inch curl, " Brig said in soft mockery. "I didn't realize you were going to throw in your particular brand of reward as well. "
His words indicated that he had sensed a difference in her response. He'd come up with his own reasoning. Hurt splintered through her.
"I wish I hadn't gotten that ram, " Jordanna murmured.
His head turned, but he couldn't see her in the darkness. "Why?" Brig sounded amused, in a cynical way.
Jordanna hesitated to explain. But she could never convince him, because he wouldn't believe her. She rolled onto her side, away from him.
"It doesn't matter, " she insisted in a husky reply. "It wouldn't change anything. "
Brig stared at the dark shape of her head. His body felt cool where hers had lain against it. He resisted the impulse to pursue her earlier declaration of love, to discover if she had really meant it.
Ever since this hunt had started, all of his instincts had been warning him of some hidden danger. Yet his only vulnerability was in his feelings for Jordanna. Something warned him not to relax his guard.
Brig stared at the roof. Today she had stalked that sheep with the skill of a tigress and skinned her kill with the sureness of a hunter. Was he to be her next trophy? Why was he asking himself such a question?
He fought down the urge to curl her body to his length and turned his back to her instead.
Chapter 16
It was dark and gray when Brig got up the next morning. Outside the tent, he could hear the whisper of a drizzling rain talking to the trees. He fastened his pants and reached for his shirt. His glance touched on the sleeping form and the gloss of dark copper hair. God, she was beautiful! The temptation was strong to crawl back in the sleeping bag to waken her. Bending down, Brig roughly shook her shoulder.
"It's time to get up. "
Her lashes fluttered, then opened. Brig turned away to button his shirt. He was conscious that she didn't immediately climb out of bed. The knowledge pulsed through his loins. Brig took his time buttoning the shirt to keep his hands and part of his mind occupied.
The zip of the sleeping bag drew his glance. Her tall, slender figure was clad in white thermal underwear. Jordanna stretched away the sleep, arching her back like a cat. His heartbeat quickened at the thrusting outline of her firm breasts.
Brig looked away and began tucking his shirt inside his Levis. "If you wore those longjohns in New York, you'd start a whole new fashion trend, " he stated in a clipped voice.
"Do you think so?" she laughed and paraded in front of him in a mocking imitation of a fashion model, posturing and posing while she made an announcer's spiel. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is what the well-dressed debutante will be wearing this season. You will notice the way the material clings to the bodice and molds... "
If she had been doing a striptease, the fire in his veins couldn't have been any hotter. She was joking but there was sensuality in every movement The tantalizing sight of her was more than he could stand. His arm hooked her waist to draw her to him and abruptly cut off her mocking speech. Before he could pull her completely into his arms, she was straining to reach his descending mouth. Her eagerness and ardency tightened the circle of his arms to crush her to his length. The action stabbed a sharp pain through his injured shoulder, forcing him to lessen his hold as he winced.
"Your shoulder. I forgot" Instantly Jordanna was contrite, running a hand over it in silent apology. Her hazel eyes were dark with concern. "How is it this morning?"
The fire was under control and Brig set her away from him. "It's better. " He reached for his sheepskin-lined jacket "You should get dressed before you catch cold. " Brig ignored the invitation in her look. "It's misting rain today so be sure to have your poncho and plenty of warm clothes. "
Without another glance, he slipped out of the tent and walked to the larger one. The air he breathed was heavy with moisture. Water dripped off the point of his hat brim. It was going to be a miserable, cold day. He ducked inside the flap of the larger tent, feeling the warmth and smelling the aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon. Brig realized he'd overslept.
A grumpy-looking Max was sitting on the bench, hunched over the table and his cup of coffee. Kit was unzipping the sleeping bags and arranging them to dry. At the stove, Jocko was turning the bacon.
"Is Tandy still with the horses?" Brig asked.
"Si. " Jocko glanced at him. "Fletcher is helping him this morning. "
Brig would have liked a cup of coffee, but knowing the man who had hired him was out there in the misting rain doing his job turned Brig around. A woman's body had made his bed too soft and he'd slept longer as a result Or so he convinced himself.
Halfway to the grassy area where the horses were picketed, he met Tandy corning back. "I see ya' finally woke up, " the stocky cowboy greeted him with a faint grin.
Brig's mouth tightened at the comment "Are the horses ready to go?" He glanced behind Tandy. "Where's Fletcher?"
"He's back with the horses. " Tandy gestured over his shoulder in the direction he'd come from. "I was just comin' to see if you was awake. The pinto threw a shoe. I was wondering if you wanted me to saddle Jughead for Max or what?"
"Damn, " Brig swore softly under his breath. "Why didn't you check the horses more closely?"
"I did, " Tandy protested. "I didn't notice the pinto havin' any loose shoe last night But this morning, there it was—on the ground. "
"You're slowing up, Tandy. You aren't as sharp as you used to be. Age is finally catching up with you. " Brig saw the older cowboy flinch then draw himself up with pride. Brig knew Tandy was sensitive about his accumulating years and he cursed himself for taking advantage of that vulnerability when he berated the cowboy's oversight. It hadn't been necessary.
"I checked that horse. I checked all the horses carefully. There wasn't no shoe loose on any of them, " Tandy repeated in stiff defense. "What do you want to do about a mount for Max?"
"Saddle Jughead. "
"Do you want me to top him off or do you think my bones are too brittle?" It was a sharp challenge. "They might have aged considerably since yesterday morning. "
"Go ahead and bust the kinks out of him, " Brig answered and hesitated. "I... didn't mean what I said earlier, Tandy. I was just... snapping No coffee this morning"
"We'll, go get some. I'll finish the horses. I don't need your help. " The cowboy turned on his heel and walked back the way he had come.
Indecision made Brig hesitate. He was tempted to leave well enough alone and have the coffee as Tandy had suggested. But Fletcher was with the horses, assuming his responsibility. He took a step after Tandy.
"Brig?" Jordanna called to him and he stopped, looking back. She was hurrying toward him, a tin mug of coffee in her hand. The hood of her poncho had slipped off her head. The dark sheen of moisture hid the mahogany cast of her hair. She stopped beside him to hand him the cup.
"Jocko said you hadn't had any coffee yet. " Water dripped off the tip of her nose.
"Your hair is getting wet. " Ignoring the cup, he reached out to lift the rainhood over her head. Then his hands cupped her head, rainhood and all. The moistness of her lips was too much of a temptation and he kissed the rain-clean sweetness of them. Afterwards, Jordanna rubbed her cheek against the rasping stubble on his jaw.
"You haven't shaved yet, " she murmured. "Shall I do it for you?"
There were at least half a hundred things he wanted her to do for him. Desire gnawed at him like a dog worrying a bone. His hands slid to her shoulders and Brig set her firmly away from him.
"I can manage on my own, " he insisted and the meaning stretched to other things besides shaving.
"Your coffee. " Jordanna prompted him, holding up the cup as a reminder. Brig took it, glad of the minor distraction. "You'd better drink it. The rain has probably cooled it, as well as diluted it. "
The sip he took was a little hotter than lukewarm, but it was black. "I needed that, " he muttered—in more ways than one.
"Where were you going?"
"To help with the horses. " Brig knew he should walk away, but the rain-washed freshness of her face kept him rooted.
"Breakfast is almost ready. "
"I know. I... " A commotion from the horses turned Brig. Tandy was on the heavy-boned bay horse in a repeat performance of yesterday morning's bucking exhibition. After a couple of minutes, the bay horse crow-hopped a few yards and quit
"Are you riding him again today?" Jordanna asked.
"No. Max draws the unlucky number this morning The pinto threw a shoe. "
"Poor Max. " She smiled, but with little genuine sympathy.
"Don't you like him much? He's a friend of your father's. "
"He's your cousin, " Jordanna reminded him. "Yes. Unfortunately. "
"If you feel that way about him, why did you save him? Wouldn't you be better off if he wasn't around?" The instant the words were out she appeared to regret them, as if she had blurted them out without stopping to think.
Brig found the questions curious. His gaze narrowed on her in hard appraisal. Where had she gotten her information? Not from Max, he was certain. That didn't leave many alternatives. He thought of her near declaration of love last night At the time, some wary instinct had kept him from believing it wholly. The sensation came rushing back this morning.