His Texas Wildflower

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His Texas Wildflower Page 16

by Stella Bagwell


  In a matter of moments, the wild demands of their kiss caused them to tumble sideways and onto the pad of cool grass. Something hard and sharp jabbed him in the side, but Jake ignored the pain, which was an easy thing to do given the fact that his whole body was already humming, throbbing with the need to be inside her.

  When their mouths finally ripped apart, Jake rolled onto his back and pulled her atop him. In a thick, raspy voice, he explained, “The ground is too rough for you.”

  Propping her forearms against his chest, she lifted her head to look at him. “For you, too,” she pointed out.

  The sound he made was something between a chuckle and a groan. “The only thing I feel is you, little darlin’. Now, come here.”

  Tunneling his hand beneath her hair, he cupped it around the back of her neck and drew her face down to his. She didn’t resist. In fact, her lips made such a slow delicious feast of his that his whole body began to burn and ache. And when she unsnapped his shirt and planted little wet kisses down the middle of his chest and onto his abdomen, he could do nothing but surrender to her sweet ministrations.

  But eventually that pleasure was not nearly enough for either of them. Clothes and boots were quickly removed and tossed aside. Then she was pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips.

  Jake was vaguely aware of the dusky sky above, while a few feet behind them the horses swished their tails and gently stomped away the pestering insects. Water trickled in the tank and the windmill slowly creaked in the cool evening breeze. Somehow his mind managed to register all those things. Until she positioned herself over him and thrust downward.

  The moment he slid into her, sensations rushed wildly through him and didn’t stop until they’d whammed the top of his skull and sent his whole head reeling back against the ground.

  Trying to catch his breath and hang on to what little self-control he had left, he anchored both hands at the sides of her waist and attempted to slow the pace of her thrust. But that was like stopping the wind. He couldn’t brake a wild gale down to a gentle breeze. All he could do was ride it out and let the frantic motion of her body carry him to a mindless place he could only call ecstasy.

  When Jake finally returned to his surroundings, Rebecca was draped over him with her cheek pressed against the middle of his chest and her hands curled over the top of his shoulders. Except for the rise and fall of her lungs, she was motionless, but her soft breath caressed his skin like a gentle finger. Her golden hair spilled over his ribs and in the process hid her face from his view.

  Sliding his fingers into the silky strands, he lifted them away from her cheek. She stirred and tilted her head just enough to be able to meet his gaze. As Jake looked into her blue eyes he was stunned at how replete she made him feel. In the past week he’d lost count of how many times they’d made love and by now he would have expected the familiarity of her to bore him. Instead, it thrilled him. Each curve, each texture and scent of her body was a treasure to experience over and over. Each whispered word and touch, every kiss from her lips was the most precious thing he’d ever been given. Loving her was like coming home. And each time grew sweeter.

  That was a scary realization for Jake; one that he didn’t know how to deal with. A part of him wanted to tell her what he was feeling, but the other, bigger part of him wanted to hide those tender emotions, bury the thoughts of longing going on in his heart. He didn’t want her to know just how vulnerable she made him feel. That would only make it more clumsy and uncomfortable when she did finally say goodbye.

  “It’s getting dark,” he murmured huskily. “We’d better mount up and get back.”

  She gazed at him for long moments, then with a wistful sigh, she placed a kiss on his cheek. “Give me just a few minutes longer, Jake. Please.”

  How could he deny her, he asked himself, when all he wanted to do was hold her forever?

  “All right,” he murmured. “We’ll go in a little while.”

  He held her quietly in his arms until dusk faded into darkness and a crescent moon appeared above the jagged line of mountains to the east. After that they dressed quickly, mounted their horses and headed them homeward.

  The ride back to the house was done mainly in silence, while they carefully maneuvered the horses through sagebrush and clumps of cacti. Rebecca seemed lost in thought and Jake could hardly resent her quietness. Especially when his own mind was absorbed with questions and doubts. Something had changed her or the both of them on that grassy bed. And once they’d left it to dress and return to the real world, he’d felt certain he would never be the same man. As for Rebecca he could only guess what was going on inside her.

  She’d clung to him as though she loved him. Yet he told himself that couldn’t be the reason why she’d wanted to stay in his arms with her cheek pressed against the beat of his heart. That idea—that she could possibly love him—was too incredible for Jake to wrap his mind around.

  When they reached the barn, Jake unsaddled both horses and while Rebecca poured a bucket of feed into Starr’s trough, he loaded the tack and Banjo into his trailer for the trip back to the Rafter R.

  Once the animals had been dealt with, Rebecca invited him into the house for a light supper of cold-cut sandwiches and iced tea. Throughout the simple meal, their conversation came and went in brief, awkward spurts. Until finally, Jake reached across the little table and brought her chin up with his forefinger.

  “What’s wrong, Rebecca? And don’t tell me it’s all this stuff about Gertrude and your parents. I already know you’re upset about that. There’s something else. Tell me.”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. “I can’t explain what’s wrong, Jake. I guess today, after talking with my mother—” She broke off and with a shake of her head, let out a humorless laugh. “Dear God, I can’t call Gwyn my mother anymore, can I? Because she isn’t or wasn’t. She’s my aunt. Gertrude was my mother.”

  “Rebecca—”

  “I’m sorry, Jake. I’m not going to say any more about her or what happened. I just—well, I guess the whole thing has confused me. And I realize that these past few weeks that I’ve been here in New Mexico I—I’ve been living in limbo.”

  An ominous chill crept down Jake’s spine. “What does that mean?”

  She gave him a long, searching look, one that made Jake feel cowardly and worthless. Two things he’d never felt in his life.

  You’ll be like your father until the day you die. Oh, God, why were his mother’s words haunting him now? Jake wondered. Because she was right about him? Because he lacked what it took to be a man who could faithfully love one woman?

  She reached for his hand and clung to it tightly.

  “It means that I’ve been going through the motions of living without really knowing who I am or where I belong. I wanted to think I belonged here. But I’m beginning to see I—well, that I’m deluding myself.”

  “I thought you liked it here.”

  Her gaze swung away from him as she pulled her hand back to her side of the table. “I was. I do,” she said. “But I need to do more than just exist. And I—well, I have nothing to hold me here.”

  That cut him deep. So deep that he could feel the blood drain from his face. Did she think of him as nothing?

  Whoa, Jake. Before you go getting all hurt and bothered, you’d better stop and take a good look at this situation—at yourself. You’ve had some incredible sex with this woman, but you never told her what it’s meant to you. What she means to you. How can you expect her to see you as anything more than a passing affair?

  The voice traipsing through Jake’s thoughts brought him up short. For a minute there he’d almost forgotten that Rebecca was only a temporary pleasure in his life. That was all he’d set out to have and he couldn’t expect to have more with her now.

  “You have this place and the animals.”

  Avoiding his gaze, she rose from the table and carried her plate over to the sink. With her back to him, she said, “Yes. But I have to have
a means to live. Gert—my mother left me a nice sum of money and I do have some of my own saved. But all of that will go quickly if I’m not working.”

  “And your job is in Houston.” He knew his voice sounded flat, maybe even accusing. But dammit, he didn’t want her to go. He wasn’t ready to give her up. Not just yet.

  “Well, I really doubt there’s any need for a fashion buyer around these parts.” With a wry smile, she turned to face him. “And I’m not trained to do anything else.”

  In spite of the warmth of the kitchen, he felt cold, his face stiff. “I’m sure it’s a very good job and that you do it well.”

  She drew in a long breath and let it out as though she was exhausted. Jake stared at her and wondered how things had quickly moved from making love to this?

  “I’ve put in years of college and long, hard hours of work to get to the coveted position I have. I’m putting it all in jeopardy by hanging on here.”

  With a shake of his head, he rose from the table and walked over to her. “You didn’t seem all that concerned about your job before. I don’t understand this sudden change in you, Rebecca. Earlier—out by the windmill—were you already thinking this?”

  Her gaze dropped to her feet as a blush washed her cheeks with pink. “Not exactly, Jake. I— To be honest, there’s nothing sudden about it. I’ve been thinking about this every day. And tonight, as we rode home, I realized I couldn’t put it off any longer. I—I’m going back to Houston.”

  She might as well have slapped him, Jake thought. And then it dawned on him. For the first time in his life, he was getting exactly what he’d dished out to his lady friends over the years. A few romps between the sheets and then a quick goodbye. He’d just learned how it felt to be on the receiving end.

  But in his defense, he’d never given any of those women rosy promises or pledges of love, he thought.

  And Rebecca never gave them to you, either.

  Wiping a hand over his face, he turned and walked to the middle of the room. Beau was lying just inside the screen door and the sight of the dog made it somehow even harder to deal with her decision. He’d thought she loved the dog. But then, he’d begun to think that she might love him. What a fool thought that had been.

  “I see. So what about Beau and the rest of the animals?”

  She didn’t answer immediately and he glanced over his shoulder to see her wiping her eyes. And suddenly he was angry. Angrier than he’d ever felt in his life. Why hadn’t she packed up and left a long time ago? he wondered. Why in hell had she stuck around and made him and the animals fall in love with her?

  “I want Starr to have acreage to roam over instead of taking her back to Houston and confining her in a stable. And since I live in an apartment that doesn’t allow pets, I’ll have to find homes for the cats and Beau with someone around here.”

  “They already have a home,” he said gruffly. “They’ll be lost anywhere else.”

  Lifting her head, she looked at him with an anger that matched his own. “Don’t make this any harder for me than it already is, Jake.”

  Turning, he walked back to her and gestured around the small kitchen. “What about this place? What are you going to do with it? Sell it?”

  Her nostrils flared at his accusing tone. He made it sound like she was a criminal for leaving. “This was my mother’s home. I’ll never sell it for any reason.”

  “You just won’t live here.”

  She shot him a daring stare. “Why should I?”

  “Why should you?” Earlier he’d laid his hat on top of the refrigerator. Now he pulled down the stained gray Stetson and levered it onto his head. “If you have to ask, Rebecca, then I sure can’t tell you.”

  She took a halting step in his direction. “You have no right to be judgmental with me, Jake.”

  That was true enough, he thought ruefully. Where she was concerned, he had no right to feel anything, think anything. And the less he did, the better off he’d be.

  Closing the space between them, he touched a hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I don’t want our time together to be marred by these last words between us. That’s why…I’m going to say goodbye. And if you do decide to come back, you know where to find me.”

  So they could have another casual affair? Rebecca was tempted to fling the loaded question at him. But he robbed her of the chance by quickly turning and walking out the door.

  Seconds later she heard the engine of his truck fire to life and then the rattle of the trailer as he pulled away. In the far distance she heard Starr nicker loudly and the sound of the mare calling out for Banjo to come back to her brought a wall of tears to Rebecca’s eyes.

  She wanted Jake to come back, too. She ached for him to walk back into the kitchen, take her into his arms and tell her that he loved her. That the only place she belonged was with him.

  But she’d given him all kinds of chances to speak the words, to ask her not to go. Instead, he’d said goodbye and now she had to deal with a breaking heart.

  As she tried to fight back her tears, she felt something cold and wet nudge against her hand. Glancing down, she saw Beau’s sad eyes staring up at her, as though he knew their time together was over.

  It was more than Rebecca could bear and she dropped to her knees and hugged the dog close to her breast.

  Chapter Eleven

  Three weeks later, Jake was walking from the barn to his house when the sound of a vehicle had him looking over his shoulder to see Quint’s truck coming up the driveway.

  The sight of his friend at this late hour was a bit surprising. Once Quint had gotten a family, he didn’t roam from the Golden Spur after working hours, unless he had to deal with some sort of business outside of the ranch.

  Jake waited for his friend to park and climb to the ground before he walked over to join him at the side of the truck.

  “Hey, bud, what are you doing over here at this hour? It’s nearly dark.”

  “Maura sent me on a mission,” Quint explained, then reached inside the back door and pulled out a long casserole dish covered with aluminum foil. “She thinks you’re starving to death so she made something to tempt you.”

  With a wry shake of his head, Jake asked, “What makes her think I’m in need of food?”

  Quint shoved the glass dish at him, forcing Jake to accept it before it fell to the ground. “When you came by the Golden Spur yesterday, she said you looked thin and terrible. Her words. Not mine.”

  “Well, I should have known my good looks would start to go sooner or later,” Jake tried to joke, then inclined his head toward the house. “Let’s go inside and have a beer.”

  “You finished with the evening chores?” Quint asked as they walked through a gate and across the front lawn.

  Unlike Quint, who had a roster of hands to deal with the mundane chores of feeding, watering and spreading hay, Jake only had two men to help with the everyday tasks. Sometimes it was long after dark before they were finished and the men headed for home. “Yeah. Before you drove up I was down at the cow lot. I got a problem.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A hell of a lot!”

  At the house, the two men entered a side door that led them directly in the kitchen. While Jake set the casserole on the cabinet counter, Quint straddled one of the tall stools at a breakfast bar.

  “I’m waiting,” Quint prodded. “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing. That’s what’s happened. This morning me and the guys pregnancy tested the herd on the east range. Ten of the cows are empty. And you know what that means—ten less calves this spring!” Jake went to the refrigerator and pulled out two long-necked beers. After shoving one in Quint’s direction, he twisted the top off the one he was holding and downed a third of the contents.

  Quint eyed him closely. “So how many cows did you have in that herd? Two hundred? Two-fifty?”

  Jake grimaced. “Two hundred and thirty.”

  “Well, ten out of that many is not a big enough perce
ntage to raise a ruckus over. This kind of thing happens to every rancher.”

  “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t make it any easier to take,” Jake muttered.

  “Have you had the bull tested?”

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t see any need for that. The rest of the cows in his herd are all carrying calves. That’s what makes it so bad. I’ll have to sell and replace them. And with the cows being open, I’ll hardly get a decent market price.”

  “I doubt it. But that’s part of ranching, too. There will always be ups and downs in the business. This is just one of those downs and if I were you, I’d call it a very minor one.”

  Jake shot him a cynical glare. “You would. Ten cows wouldn’t count much to you.”

  Quint plopped the beer bottle down on the bar with a heavy thud. “Dammit, Jake, don’t talk to me that way! Every cow on my ranch is important to me. Right now I have twenty that are too old to calve anymore. They’ve not produced in two years and they never will again. But I don’t have the heart to send them to slaughter. So I feed and care for them just like the others. It’s not good business sense, but it makes Maura happy. And I guess, to be honest, it makes me happy, too.”

  Heaving a weary breath, Jake walked over to a pine farm table and sank into a chair at one end. He felt awful and spouting off to the man who’d been like a brother since they were very small boys, only made him feel worse.

  “Sorry, Quint. I didn’t mean that like it sounded. But you can absorb the loss much easier than I can.”

  Quint mouthed a curse word. “You’re not exactly poor, Jake. Not anymore.”

  They both knew he was referring to the dividends he received from shares of the Golden Spur Mine. And Quint was basically right in saying Jake wasn’t poor anymore. He owned more valuable assets now than he’d ever dreamed possible. Yet he still couldn’t think of himself as solvent. Maybe that was because he’d never felt confident that he could hang on to all he’d acquired.

  “I believe you ought to have the bull checked,” Quint went on. “I don’t see ten cows having a fertility problem. But that’s just my opinion.”

 

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