by Janet Dailey
A tiny animal sound of pleasure came from her throat under the driving possession of his kiss. Phrases of his sentences began spinning in her mind. His hand had found its way inside her blouse and his fingers slid inside the cup of her brassiere to encircle tier breast.
No other man had made love to her except Joe. Maddock would be the first, and the experience promised to be like nothing she'd ever known before. But wasn't it supposed to mean something? Did it? It was all happening too fast. Edie realized she wasn't ready for this—, whatever it was.
With a muffled groan she twisted and rolled away from him fighting the traitorous waves of regret. As she scrambled to her feet, common sense insisted that her decision was wise. What did she know about Maddock? What did she think of him? Was it loneliness that had made her respond, or something else?
"Edie?" His voice was low and questioning, puzzled yet insistent that she explain.
She realized he was standing very close to her. The knowledge had a somersaulting effect on her heart, and Edie took a deep breath to calm her panicking nerves. The action drew her attention to the unbuttoned front of her blouse. She quickly tried to fasten the buttons, but it was a fumbling attempt. She damned the gloves that turned her fingers into thumbs.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she jerked away from the searing contact. "No." It was both a denial and a rejection. The next time he touched her, there was nothing gentle in the contact as Maddock forcibly turned her around to face him. Edie drew back as far as his hand would allow and refused to meet the cold steel of his probing gaze. "Let me go, Maddock," she requested stiffly. "I am not in the mood—" The rest of the sentence was lost in a gasp of pain when his fingers tightened to dig into her flesh. She was about to say she wasn't in the mood to argue, but Maddock interpreted the words as they stood.
"Not in the mood," he repeated in tightlipped anger. He clamped a large hand on her hip and yanked her toward him, molding the lower half of her body to his length and impressing on her flesh how very potently he was in the mood. "What am I supposed to do? Silently accept the fact that I'm to be sexually frustrated because a lonely widow has got an attack of cold feet? You let me become this aroused, Edie."
"I know it." She suppressed a shudder of longing. Her aching dissatisfaction wasn't helped by the knowledge of his need. She hadn't intentionally led him on, even if that was the way it seemed. "Let me go."
For an instant Edie thought Maddock was going to ignore her brittle request. Then she was released and standing free, the subject of the accusing rake of his gaze.
"I didn't do anything you didn't want me to do," Maddock stated.
Unable to meet his eyes, she reached down to pick up the half-coiled rope near her feet. She concentrated on coiling the rest of it while she answered him. "All right. I admit that I wanted to be kissed and fondled, but I'm not so desperate that I wanted to have sex with you." She feared that she had responded to him out of a need to be loved as only a man can love a woman.
Her gaze ricocheted off his narrowed look. Turning, she walked to her horse and tied the lariat to the saddle. Raw nerves screamed at the way his eyes followed her every move.
"How long had you been married before your husband died?" Maddock questioned.
"Eighteen years." She stepped into the stirrup and swung into the saddle. Feeling secure now that she was mounted, Edie glanced at him. "Why?"
He had gathered the reins to his horse and mounted in one fluid movement. "I was just wondering who wore the pants in your marriage—you or your husband?" There was something taunting in his steady regard as he squared his horse around to face hers.
"Joe did, of course," she retorted.
"Of course?" A thick brow arched at the phrase. The saddle creaked as Maddock shifted his weight deeper into the seat. "I wonder why I have the feeling you told him which pair to put on."
Resentment burned hot through her veins. She had made a lot of the decisions, but she had always consulted Joe. His implication that she had been the boss irritated Edie. She refused to admit it was because it carried a grain of truth.
"I'm certain that you wish I was a helpless female incapable of standing up to you. You would have had my ranch by now, wouldn't you, Maddock?" Edie challenged.
He nudged his horse forward until his leg was rubbing against hers. "Instead of wearing a man's clothes, Edie, you should try filling a man's bed." The line of his mouth curved but it didn't smile.
"Yours, I suppose!" she flashed angrily, and slapped the reins to her horse's rump to send it lunging into a canter that swiftly carried her away from Maddock toward the ranch house.
Edie didn't slow her horse to a walk until she was out of sight. She choked on a sob and forced it down. Her pride and self-respect were soothed by the knowledge that although she had been vulnerable to his attraction for a little while, she had overcome it. No doubt Maddock would be pleased if she was plagued by that brief interlude. It would be one more weapon he could use against her. Well, she wasn't going to let it happen. It hadn't meant anything except that she was human and capable of being made to respond. She certainly wasn't going to hide from Maddock in the future because of it. After all, he was just a man.
THREE DAYS LATER Edie was with Jerry and Alison on the south boundary putting in the new fence. The other three sides to their ranch had been refenced. When this was in, they could begin on the inner pastures, which wouldn't be for a couple of days yet.
At the sound of a horse and rider approaching, Edie mentally braced herself to meet Maddock. But when she looked up, it was his daughter who was reining in her horse. And she was alone.
"Have you seen my father?" Even as she made the imperious demand of Edie, her gaze was straying with cool, feminine interest to Jerry, who was shirtless. His tanned muscles bulged as he drove a fence post into the ground.
"No," Edie replied, barely pausing in her work. "And I'm not expecting to." Just in case there was some question.
"He said something about moving some cattle. I just thought he might have been by here." Felicia shrugged as if it didn't matter.
"I haven't seen him," Edie repeated, injecting supreme indifference into her voice.
"Who is he? Your hired hand?" The haughty question was spoken in a voice deliberately loud enough for Jerry to hear.
"No." With a sidelong glance at Jerry, Edie saw he had paused to look up, so she made the introduction. "This is my stepson, Jerry Gibbs. Jerry, meet Felicia Maddock."
The vibrantly attractive brunette walked her flashy chestnut over to where Jerry was working. An overabundance of pride made her smile appear aloof, but there was no mistaking the avid interest in her blue eyes.
"Hello, Felicia." Jerry's wide smile was natural, his voice was a little winded from his physical exertion.
"It looks like you're working hard," the girl observed, and hooked a knee around the saddle horn, leaning a hand on the cantle. The provocative pose was reminiscent of the kind from the western calendars.
Jerry's gaze flicked over her in mild amusement and a little interest. "It's the only way the work gets done." He began tamping the post into the ground.
"Daddy is certainly going to appreciate all the improvements you've made on this place," Felicia remarked in an attempt at adult cynicism. "It will be just that much less he'll have to do when he buys it."
"Presuming, of course, that we sell it," Jerry reminded her, mocking her with his smile.
"You will," she replied with false confidence. "You can ask anybody. A Maddock always gets what he wants."
"Is that right?" Jerry continued with his work,
"You don't mind if I watch you, do you?" Felicia questioned.
"No, I don't mind." With that post in place, Jerry picked up his tools and moved on to set the next one. Felicia slid her boot back in the stirrup and reined her horse after him.
Alison pulled the barbed wire tight while Edie hammered a staple into the wood post to hold it. "I wonder if Jerry feels properly honored that Felicia
is flirting with him," Alison murmured in dry sarcasm.
Edie glanced in Jerry's direction. The brunette was leaning on her saddle horn toward him, talking about something, but at this distance she couldn't hear what the girl was saying.
"She is an attractive girl," Edie said, although she silently agreed that Felicia was out to make a conquest.
"The trouble is she knows it," Alison muttered.
Felicia Maddock stayed for about an hour. Not one sentence was directed at anyone else except Jerry. As far as she was concerned, Alison and Edie didn't exist. Although Felicia did the bulk of the talking, Jerry did respond at the appropriate times, but he didn't slacken his pace.
As she turned her horse to ride away, she tossed a mocking, "Don't work too hard, Jerry," over her shoulder.
"Don't work too hard, Jerry," Alison mimicked. "You'd better be careful, brother of mine. She wants to wrap you around her little finger."
"Oh, yeah?" He paused to wipe the sweat from his neck, and laughter twinkled in his eyes. "She's just a kid."
"She's eighteen if she's a day," Alison retorted. "And I wouldn't like to see her get her claws into you."
"I think Jerry can take care of himself," Edie inserted.
"Thanks, Edie," Jerry smiled. "To hear Alison talk, you'd think it was months since I'd seen a girl." Then with an impish wink he added, "Which it has been."
"You just watch that girl," Alison warned.
"I will," he promised with a roguish grin.
Jerry had ample opportunity in the three days it took them to finish the fencing, because Felicia Maddock "happened" to ride by every day. Each time she stayed about an hour, talking and flirting with Jerry, who neither encouraged her nor discouraged her.
Having the girl there automatically turned Edie's thoughts to Maddock. She studied Felicia, noting the similarities of their features and wondering if the differences came from Felicia's mother. This thought prompted a curiosity about Maddock's late wife and, ultimately, the question of why he hadn't remarried. With his virile tough looks and status, there wouldn't be a lack of candidates eager to fill the position. But Edie didn't ask a single question because she didn't want to admit an interest in him, not even a casual one—partly because the feelings he aroused in her could be described as anything but casual.
Saturday was the day reserved for their weekly trip into town for supplies. The advent of June had also brought the annual influx of summer tourists to the area. The streets of Custer were crowded with vehicles and pedestrians. It took almost twenty minutes to find a place to park. Then it was several blocks away from the main business district.
"From now on we'd better come to town in the middle of the week," Edie suggested.
"You won't get any argument from me." Jerry locked the door of the pickup before stepping up the curb to the sidewalk. "Do you want to meet me at the hardware store in an hour?"
"We should be through with our shopping and errands by then," Edie agreed after a questioning glance at her daughter.
"Most of them, anyway," Alison nodded.
With the crowd of tourists filling the sidewalks and the buildings of the colorful westernstorefronted town, it took longer than they anticipated. The hour had passed, yet Edie had acquired only half the items on her list.
"We'd better meet Jerry and catch the rest of the things later, mom," Alison advised when they finally made it through the long line at a cash register. "At this rate it's going to take us all day instead of all morning."
Jostled by a customer who was attempting to exit the store at the same time Edie was going out the door, she wasn't able to immediately reply. "You're right," she sighed with a trace of disgust, "on both counts."
They crossed the street to the hardware store and went inside, but they couldn't find Jerry. None of the clerks recalled seeing him, but the store was crowded. It was possible he had been in and already gone. They went back outside.
"What do you think we should do?" The corners of Alison's mouth were pulled grimly down by her fading patience. "Should we wait here in case he's late, too? Or walk all the way back to where the truck is parked to see if he's there?"
"With all these people, we could pass him on the street and never notice him." Edie frowned at the hopelessness of trying to recognize a person in this sea of faces streaming by.
"There he is!" Alison pointed across the street. An eyebrow arched coolly. "And will you look at who has waylaid him? Miss High-and-mighty herself," she declared at the same moment that Edie recognized Felicia Maddock was the one who had stopped Jerry to talk to him. "I heard him mention to her yesterday that we'd be in town today."
"Alison, you make it sound as if she arranged to meet him," Edie chided.
"I wouldn't put it past her," was the shrugging answer.
Edie noticed the proprietorial way Felicia held onto Jerry's forearm. And she also noticed the smiling way Jerry observed the action, amused, indulgent and not exactly indifferent. For a brief moment she wondered if the Gibbs family was naturally susceptible to the Maddock brand of charm. With a wide beguiling smile, Felicia said something to Jerry. His reply must not have been what the brunette expected to hear, because she abruptly withdrew her hand from his arm, her expression freezing in an attempt to hide hurt anger.
"It looks like Miss Prissy Pants had her fur ruffled," Alison murmured with undisguised glee.
Edie flashed her daughter a reproving look, but Alison was watching her brother cross the street to the hardware store. When he reached the other side where they waited, his gaze ran over them in apology.
"Sorry I'm late. I hope you haven't been waiting long," he said.
"Long enough to see you with Felicia," Alison murmured archly.
He glanced across the street in the direction that Felicia had taken. There was a wistful glint in his eyes that Edie noticed. "Yeah, I talked to her for a few minutes," he admitted without comment.
"What did you say that upset her?" Alison wanted to know.
"She asked me to buy her a cup of coffee, and I—" Jerry paused, a vague frown clouding his expression.
"And what?" Alison prompted,
A wry smile twisted his mouth. "I told her that if I wanted to buy her a cup of coffee I would do the asking."
"No wonder she reacted as if you had slapped her," Alison murmured.
"But you wanted to ask her?" Edie suggested.
"Let's just say I might have if she wasn't—" He hesitated over the reason.
Edie supplied what she believed was the obvious one. "Maddock's daughter."
"I could have overlooked that," Jerry corrected. "What I was going to say is if she wasn't such a spoiled brat." Adeptly he changed the subject. "I hope you haven't finished all your shopping."
"Hardly." Alison rolled her eyes expressively.
"If you don't need her, Edie, I could use Alison's help. I brought a couple of gates and a metal water trough. The lumberyard is so busy that they don't have anybody who can help me load them," Jerry explained.
"Sure, I'll help," Alison volunteered.
"I think I can manage without her," Edie agreed dryly.
"We'll meet you somewhere for lunch. That café by the corner?" he suggested.
"Okay. At one-thirty after the lunch hour rush is over," Edie suggested.
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Chapter Eight
THERE WAS STILL TIME before Edie had to meet Alison and Jerry, so she wandered along the sidewalk beneath the shade of the overhang. A dress in a store window caught her eye, and she stopped to admire it. Made from a soft, melon-colored fabric, its design was cunningly simple, revealing a lot of skin and shoulder while avoiding the plunging look.
Its obvious femininity made a mockery of the image reflected by the plate-glass window. A slender, dark-haired woman looked back at Edie, her shapely figure covered in an uninspired combination of slacks and a knit top, a unisex, uniage outfit. Her gaze strayed back to the dress that needed the roundness of a woman's body to
properly show off both.
"Hi, mom." Alison's voice drew her attention away from the shop window. "We were just on our way to meet you. What are you doing?"
Turning, Edie noticed that Alison seemed particularly vivacious, all radiant and fresh with an extra sparkle in her brown eyes. Jerry was with her, a typical hint of a smile in his expression.
"I was just admiring the dress in the window," Edie admitted. "Isn't it attractive?"
"It's gorgeous! It would look great on you, mom," Alison insisted the instant she saw it. "You should get it."
"And where would I wear it?" Edie shook her head, too practical to buy something that would end up hanging in her closet. "What I need is a new pair of jeans. I would get a lot more use out of those than I would that dress, beautiful as it is."
"It is attractive," Jerry agreed with their consensus.
"And you could wear it to the dance tonight," Alison inserted.
"What dance?" It was the first time Edie had heard anything mentioned about a dance. Her gaze darted curiously to her daughter.
"Jerry and I had some time to kill before meeting you so we stopped at this bar," Alison began.
Jerry interrupted to assure Edie, "I had a beer and Alison had a Coke."
"Yes, well," Alison hurried on with her explanation, "since it's Saturday night, they have a band coming in to play at this bar. Rob says they're really good. He's heard them play before."
"Who is Rob?" Edie frowned in amusement.
"He's this really cute cowboy who was in the bar the same time we were there." That explained the excited glow in her eyes.