by Janet Dailey
"I don't know if my reason could be described as thoughtful, Mrs. Gibbs." On that cryptic note he turned his head to sweep an experienced eye over the herd of cattle below them. "That's a fine-looking bunch. They're carrying Wyoming brands, aren't they?"
"Yes," Edie admitted, and realized he could possibly tell her the name and location of the ranch that the brands were registered to.
The buckskin stamped a foot at a buzzing fly, and the saddle leather creaked under its rider's weight. "You must have made a quick trip to Wyoming and back." Maddock addressed the remark to Jerry, who was leaning a hip against the boulder near Edie.
"I didn't go." Jerry calmly met the gray gaze leveled at him. "Alison bought the herd."
"Yes," she piped up a little smugly, and strolled over to stand near her brother. "It was amazing how much cheaper the cattle sold for there than the price they were bringing here at the local sale barns. Even with the shipping costs added in we saved money."
"So now you're in the cattle business." It was a flat statement that ventured no opinion.
"And we're going to be successful at it," Alison declared rashly. "You shouldn't underestimate the Gibbs family, Mr. Maddock."
There was a suggestion of a smile around his firm mouth. The glint in his eyes was unmistakable as his glance encompassed all three of them, lingering for a fraction of a second on Edie. "You can be sure I won't," Applying pressure on the bridle bit, he signaled the buckskin to back up, then pivoted the horse at a right angle to send it up the crest.
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Chapter Six
"YOU'RE RIGHT, MOTHER," Alison muttered in an irritated breath. "It would be a novelty if he ever said goodbye."
Edie dragged her gaze from the crest of the saddle-back ridge where Maddock had disappeared. She had just begun to enjoy a feeling of peace and contentment before he showed up. Now she felt disjointed, at odds within herself.
"It doesn't really matter what he didn't say," Jerry said, straightening from the boulder. "He did give us some sound advice. We should check to see what damage the storm did. We might as well split up and cover more ground."
"I suppose," Alison sighed, and Edie let her agreement be a silent one as they walked down the slope to the trees where they had tied their horses.
After mounting up, they fanned out to take three different directions. Edie hadn't chosen the section of boundary fence she was to cheek; the choice had been made for her when Jerry and Alison had chosen the other two. At the time there hadn't been any reason to object until she saw the rider walking his horse and thought of an excellent reason—Will Maddock.
Her gloved hand tightened automatically on the reins of the bay gelding. It pulled up abruptly out of its trot into a prancing halt. She glanced anxiously around her, but both Alison and Jerry were already out of sight. What was more, Maddock had already seen her.
Edie was angry that it hadn't occurred to her this was the logical route Maddock would take back to his ranch. Or had it? Had her subconscious buried the knowledge? It was too late for such thoughts to be occurring to her.
Her objective was to check the fences in this region. She had a choice of either following Maddock at a distance or riding on at a normal pace as if it didn't matter. It didn't matter, she argued silently. She wasn't afraid of him.
Digging in her heels, she sent the bay horse forward at an easy lope. Maddock didn't exactly wait for her, but she caught up with him easily. The ground became rough beneath her horse. Edie had to let the bay choose its own pace or risk laming it, which meant she had to ride alongside Maddock.
"I see you decided to take my advice," he commented.
"About checking the storm damage, yes," she agreed stiffly, not turning her gaze from the front, but conscious of his gray eyes sliding over her. "About selling the ranch to you, no."
"I don't recall advising you to sell to me," Maddock replied dryly.
"That's true," Edie recalled with a touch of disdain that was alien to her nature. "I believe you said we would break under the pressure."
"You will eventually." He reached into his shirt pocket for a cigarette and, one-handed, cupped a lighted match to the tip.
"You are wrong, Maddock." Edie tried to keep her gaze from straying to his craggy profile and the way his eyes squinted against the smoke curling from the cigarette in his mouth. He was too rawly masculine. "I think we have proved we don't break under pressure…even your pressure."
"My pressure?" His mouth curved without smiling.
"Admit it, Maddock," Edie insisted a shade triumphantly. "You are upset because we outsmarted you and bought our cattle elsewhere after you tried to keep us from buying any cattle here. You are irritated because you were bested by a bunch of greenhorns."
"No, I'm not irritated," he countered smoothly. "And I don't deny that I kept you from making any successful bids on cattle. You can call that pressure if you like."
"What else do you call it?" she retorted. When he didn't answer she demanded, "Did you really think it would work?"
"If you had been a bunch of faint-hearted, dumb tenderfeet, yes, it would have worked, because you would have given up in another month and sold out. You showed you were stubborn and intelligent. But it doesn't change the eventual outcome."
"That's where you're wrong, Maddock." Edie was angry that he was so damned sure of himself. "We aren't selling. And if the day ever comes when we do, I'd sell it to the devil before I'd sell it to you."
"And you are making a mistake." He blew out a stream of smoke and gave her a long, hard look, his hands resting on the saddle horn while his body moved with the rocking motion of the walking horse.
"I'm not making any mistake," she denied, unable to withstand the force of that dark gray gaze.
"Yes, you are. You're taking this personally. I have nothing against you or your family. If you want to play cowboy, go somewhere else. I want the ranch. It's that simple. You have it. I want it and I'm going to do everything I can to persuade you to sell—to me."
"Persuade? Force, you mean," Edie corrected tightly. "Doesn't it matter to you that this ranch is our home?"
"It isn't your home," he denied without hesitation or emotion. "Wherever it is you're from in Illinois, that's your home."
"That was our home. This is our home now." Strangely, that was true. This was where she felt she belonged now. Their home and life in Illinois seemed a lifetime ago.
"Don't sink your roots too deep," he warned.
The boundary fence was ahead of them. Blocking their way was a tall pine tree, toppled by the storm. Its trunk was charred where lightning had struck it. The top third of it was resting atop the fence. A post taking most of its weight had kept the newly strung barbed wire from snapping.
Ignoring Maddock, Edie reined her horse toward the tree and stopped near the fence. Since she had expected Maddock to ride on, she dismounted to untie the lariat hanging from her saddle. She glanced over the suede-covered seat of her saddle to see Maddock swinging off his horse.
"What are you doing?" she questioned.
"I'm giving you a hand." He untied his coiled rope and walked toward the tree.
Hurrying, Edie reached it ahead of him and began tying the end of her rope around the tapered trunk. "I don't happen to need your help."
"I'm sure you can manage on your own." He expertly tied his knot while she was still fumbling with hers. "The same way you did with the barbed wire."
She flashed him an angry look and jerked the knot tight. Walking back to her horse, she stepped into the saddle and looped the other end of the rope around the saddle horn. Maddock was already astride his buckskin, the rope dallied around his horn and waiting for her.
Reining the bay at an angle away from the tree, she walked it forward until the rope was stretched taut across her thigh. Out of the corner of her eye, Edie was aware that Maddock had set his horse at a parallel line with hers.
The bay felt the weight at the end of the rope, the resistance, a
nd fidgeted nervously. Patting its neck, she urged it forward and looked back. Pine branches were making rustling noises against the fence. Slowly the top half of the tree was beginning to move. There was the splintering crack of wood as the tree trunk began to split from the lightning-struck stump. Then it snapped and the tree slithered off the fence and crashed to the ground, limbs cracking and breaking, the taut wire singing.
The rope went slack and Edie immediately halted her horse, its dark head tossing nervously. She ignored the fact that Maddock was already on the ground walking to untie his rope from the tree when she dismounted. A white-hot tension was racing through her as she followed him.
Pulling the tree off the fence had tightened the knot. Edie had to work to get it loose. By the time she had it untied, Maddock already had his rope recoiled. His swiftness and adeptness made her feel clumsy and slow in comparison.
"I didn't ask you to help me, so don't expect any thanks." She jerked the rope free and began coiling it into a circle.
"I didn't expect any thanks. I didn't get any when I cut you out of that wire or when I saved you from falling down the steps. If neither of those warranted an expression of gratitude, this certainly doesn't." His indifferent glance was cool and gray. "Your manners leave something to be desired."
"My manners!" If Edie had felt a twinge of guilt, his last statement chased it away. "You don't even have the common courtesy to say anything as polite as hello or goodbye. You're too busy throwing your weight around! I imagine you've been pushing people around for quite a while. It's high time somebody started shoving back."
"You?" Mocking laughter glinted in his look although there was no change in his expression.
There had been too much tension, too many seething emotions held in check for too long. The thread of control holding them, had worn thin. At his taunt it snapped. Edie struck out at the male features that had tormented her in so many ways. The leather of her glove absorbed much of the stinging contact with his cheek, protecting her palm.
Her arm had barely finished its arc when it was seized in a viselike grip. With a rough yank Maddock hauled her against his chest. His retaliation was too swift and caught Edie unprepared to resist. Her head was thrown back and her wide hazel eyes were drawn to his face. The white mark on his cheek where she had hit him was turning red. There was a thunderous shade to his gray eyes, a violent Dakota storm about to break over her head.
An instinct for survival made her struggle. With her free hand Edie pushed at his chest and strained against the iron band that circled her waist. It didn't seem to matter how much she turned and twisted, she couldn't elude the contact with his powerfully muscled build.
"Let me go!" she demanded angrily, and tried to jerk her wrist free of his grip, but he used the downward movement to fold her arm behind her back and force her more fully to his length.
"You did this deliberately, didn't you?" Maddock accused grimly.
"I'm not sorry I slapped you," Edie flashed. "I'm only sorry I didn't hit you harder."
He continued as if he hadn't even heard her, anger blazing in his eyes. "You deliberately provoked this so you could make me aware that beneath these boy's clothes there is a woman's body."
"No!" she gasped the stunned denial.
She stopped struggling, suddenly conscious that the writhings of her body were a provocation in themselves. She was no match for his strength. While he had easily checked her attempts to wrestle out of his hold, his hands had succeeded in fitting her intimately to the contours of his frame. Her hips were pressed firmly to the solid columns of his thighs and the thrusting angle of his hips. While trying to ease the pressure on the arm he'd twisted behind her back, she had arched the roundness of her breasts fully against his chest.
"How long has your husband been dead?" Maddock demanded. "Has abstinence built up your sexual frustration until you can't stand it?"
A strangled cry of protest and denial was ripped unintelligibly from her throat. His accusation was too close to the wayward thoughts that had been running through her mind these past days. That knowledge flamed through her body. She had to escape him before his nearness caused a purely physical response. In a last bid for her freedom, Edie kicked at his shin with the pointed toe of her boot and scored a direct hit. He cursed in pain under his breath and relaxed his grip just enough for Edie to twist free. She tried to run, but he grabbed at her arm.
"Oh, no, you don't!" His fingers closed on her sleeve, catching just enough material to half turn her around.
Her foot became tangled in the coiled rope she'd dropped. Edie lost her balance and tumbled backward. She was conscious of her legs becoming tangled with his as she fell, toppling him with her. The impact with the ground momentarily knocked the wind out of her.
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Chapter Seven
"YOU LITTLE HELLCAT!" Before Edie could recover her breath, Maddock rolled on top of her, captured the hands that would have pushed him away and pinned them to the ground above her head.
Crushed by his weight, Edie couldn't move. Helpless in the face of his brute strength, she was conscious that the fall had knocked her hat off, spilling the chestnut length of her hair over the ground. But she was more conscious of the pressing heat of his body and the way it heightened the earthy smell of him. She tried not to breathe and inhale his stimulating scent.
But there wasn't any way she could block out the feel of him, all that solidly muscled weight flattening her curves. It was too suggestive lying beneath him this way. Edie was afraid to move in case Maddock discovered it, too. Her gaze became centered on the open collar of his shirt. She didn't dare look any higher, aware of the tanned column of his throat and the hard, male features so close to her own. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her face, a sensual caress that she tried desperately to ignore.
There was a moment of stillness when neither moved. It stretched endlessly until some powerful, invisible force compelled Edie to lift her gaze. It traveled slowly up the corded muscles of his neck, dwelling for an instant on the pulse she saw hammering in his throat. In the space of another second her eyes became fascinated by the strong male outline of his mouth. Finally she met the magnetic darkness of his gaze.
"Maddock—" It was a plea, whether to be released or to be kissed, she never had a chance to find out for herself.
"Shut up, Edie." The husky order was issued as his mouth lowered onto hers.
The shape of her lips was explored with consummate ease, every curve and contour investigated with sensual thoroughness. Her mouth became soft and pliant under the influence of his kiss. Edie couldn't stop the quivering response that trembled through her. There was a physical hunger that refused to be suppressed any longer.
When the sweet demand of his mouth seduced her lips apart, a languorous warmth invaded her limbs until they seemed to melt to his shape. A fever was born, contagious and hot. Her arms were released and allowed to find their way around the breadth of his shoulders. His arms forced their way beneath her and tried to absorb her into his flesh.
A blackness threatened to claim her. Turning her head, she eluded his mouth and gasped for a breath. "You're hurting me, Maddock," she murmured, because she doubted that he knew his own strength.
He levered himself above her, completely removing his weight. "Am I too heavy for you?" His husky voice was an evocative caress in itself.
Her lashes fluttered open as her gaze sought the face inches away from hers. She became fascinated by the sun-creased lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes and the slashing grooves that framed his mouth. She wanted to trace their paths as if they would provide the answer to the mystery of this man who could incite her to such anger…and such passion.
Edie could breathe again, but she didn't know if she wanted to. There was still his question to answer, and Maddock was waiting for it, "Yes…I mean, no." She saw the satisfaction glittering in his dark gray eyes as he watched confusion and desire chasing each other across he
r expression. "Oh, Maddock, I don't know," she admitted finally with a feeling that she had admitted a lot more than that.
"I never thought you'd be at a loss for a quick, decisive reply. This is an occasion," he murmured complacently and shifted his position to lie along her side with only a fraction of his weight resting on her.
His mouth moved to reclaim possession of her lips, consuming them with a lazy hunger that fed her desire. She felt the smoothness of a leather-gloved hand cup the side of her head, a thumb sliding down her neck to the base of her throat. Then the caressing hand was abruptly removed, and Edie was vaguely aware of some movement above her head. When the hand returned it was minus the glove. The sensitive skin of her neck delighted in the pleasing roughness of his callused touch, responding to it the way her lips responded to the masterful seduction of his kiss.
Once his hand and fingers had explored every inch of her neck, his mouth followed them up to claim the territory as his personal property. His tongue seared his brand in all the sensitized hollows while his hand continued its discovery trail, pushing the collar of her blouse aside to investigate her collarbone and the point of her shoulder. Quivers of sheer passion trembled through her bones. Somewhere in the back of her minds sweet turmoil was going on, but she was too conscious of the havoc his mouth was creating at a point below her collarbone. When he paused and lifted his head to let his fingers trace the area his lips had just claimed, she had to swallow a moan of protest.
"Is this mark from the barbed wire?" Maddock questioned in a low, taut voice that vibrated through her.
Edie moved a hand as if to touch the place, but the small scar was undoubtedly the result of that misadventure. "I…yes." What did it matter now? In her love-disturbed state she was interested only in this incident.
Maddock pressed a kiss to the mark as if to speed the healing process and eliminate the blemish from her silken skin. "I'll never forget that day and the sight of you trussed up like a little brown hen in that wire," he murmured against her neck as he slowly worked his way up to her lips. "After I cut you free, my first reaction was to wring your pretty little neck for getting yourself into such a predicament. So I did the next best thing by shaking you. But my second reaction—" he spoke against her lips, tantalizing their outline with the promise of a kiss while their breaths combined "—would have made the cockiest rooster proud. If your protectors hadn't arrived we would have been making love then instead of waiting until now."