"So you've decided to marry her yourself,"
Startled, he looked at her. "That's a hell of a thing to say, Maggie.'' He hadn't given the idea a thought until the preacher had come with his pious mewlings. But had he? Had it been in the back of his mind all the time that he could have the child and also the child's mother?
Maggie laughed at his discomfort, before fixing him with a look of professional scrutiny. "I'm a woman who makes a living reading the male mind, T.K. It's not too hard to see what you've got on yours."
All at once, he was edgy as a longhorn steer. "Well, I've thought of marrying her, but there's a hell of a lot of ifs. What if Patrick isn't dead? What if he trots in one day and demands his child? Wants Lee? Believe me, Lee would go with the boy."
Raucous laughter drifted up the stairs on the tinny notes of a piano, reminding them it was Saturday night, a time for having fun. Maggie leaned forward. "Is Lee still in love with Patrick?"
"She shies away when I bring up the subject."
"Why don't you ask her point-blank?"
"If I ask her, then I'll feel obligated to tell her the truth, and there's something else." Standing, he thrust his thumbs in his back pockets and prowled about the room. "Toddie could be mine."
Maggie exhaled sharply. "Start at the beginning, T.K. I'm having trouble fitting the pieces together."
He sprawled in the chair again, drumming his fingers on the arm, wondering if she could say anything that would help or if anybody could. "Now you know why I needed an ear." Quickly, he gave her the details. Finally, he said, "According to Jake, Lee thought I was Patrick when she came to my bed. And whatever I did is buried under a pile of stone in my memory. I lift out a rock at a time, trying my damnedest to remember."
"Didn't Jake tell her she had slept with you?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. She believes Patrick is Toddie's father. I can't prove otherwise."
"But you like the idea of having a son."
His eyes gentled. "He's a great little kid. Looks like me. Of course, he looks like Patrick, too. And, yeah, I'd like to have a son. I've been busy with the ranch and never given much thought to acquiring a wife. Besides, I never met anybody I wanted to marry."
Maggie replaced the strap on her gown. "The way it stands now, you want the child close so you can take care of him."
"He's a Burke."
"You also like the idea of marrying the mother."
"I can't take the boy away from his mother."
Impatiently, she met his gaze. "Be honest with yourself, T.K. You want her."
T.K. downed his drink. "I want her, but a man has to draw lines. I keep telling myself that Patrick is my brother, that there comes a time when a man needs to be more of a man than he knows he is." Suddenly it was good to get the truth out in the open. "I like seeing her with her hair down. I didn't remember her hair being that gold color when she was in bed with me. Of course, I don't remember much about that night." He eyed his empty glass. "I like having her across the table in the morning, hearing her laugh, watching her play with the boy."
"Let's see. This Lee is living in your house. You hate the idea she was Patrick's woman first. You aren't sure the kid is yours. Your brother may not be dead. If your brother is alive, you feel as if you haven't got a chance. And through it all you feel guilty."
"Like a sheep-killing dog."
Maggie lifted a hand to cover the smile that widened her mouth. "You've admitted how you feel. How do you think she feels?"
Glumly, he looked at her breast without actually seeing it. "I kissed Lee once, Maggie. I might as well have kissed a mesquite stump."
She threw up her hands. "T.K., you're hopping around like a schoolboy with his pants on fire."
T.K. grinned boyishly. "Maggie, I've done more lifting and shoving and downright-hard labor on the ranch in the last two months than I did all last year."
"Now that we know the truth, what else is troubling you?"
"After Lee told Patrick she carried his child, Patrick rode out. Said he wasn't interested in marriage. He may have known she came to my bed that night at the party. Or Jake could have told him."
"How"
"I woke up with Lee in my bed. I couldn't remember her from the night before, and I didn't see her face the next morning. Maggie, I didn't even recognize her when I met her later at Boggy Creek to take her and Toddie to the Lazy B."
"But you think the chances are good that you and she"
He grinned wryly. "Yeah. When I look at her now, I think the chances are pretty good."
"But you were drunk."
"I've never considered that an excuse, and I doubt that Patrick would."
"Patrick would understand," she said dryly.
"On top of that, a fellow by the name of Putnam at the church in Hy-Meadow challenged her living at the Lazy B. He says she's got a bad reputation. Says Boggy Creek folks have a different picture of her from the one she's shown at the ranch."
"Does that bother you?"
Remembering Maggie's profession, T.K. threw her an apologetic glance. "I'd want her respectable."
"But you'd marry her anyway even if people talk about her?"
"I've never been one to accept gossip as truth, but it's hard for me to believe my brother would leave his son."
"You need to look yourself straight in the eye, T.K. The truth is, you're asking me to tell you that Lee will become the perfect wife and mother."
T.K. lifted his glass. It was smooth, cool, and empty. "I guess that's what I want."
"What makes you think I'd know?"
He glared at her. "Hell, Maggie you've seen girls leave the business. What happened to them? Did they marry? Have kids? Make good wives? Did they want to stay married?"
Maggie rearranged a pillow behind her back. "Honey, some did and some didn't. From your description, Lee doesn't exactly fit the mold anyway. Not much help is it?"
"It helps just to talk about it."
"Usually does. That's another reason men come to whorehouses. Have you seen Jake?"
"That little ferret stays away from the Lazy B. He said he didn't wait to actually watch the Mexicans kill Patrick and he didn't want to talk about his best friend's dying. I guess he's feeling bad because he couldn't help Pat."
"What do you think happened?"
"I think Patrick ran into the Comancheros and then somehow got caught by the Mexican military."
Maggie shuddered and, in a single catlike movement, rose to her feet. "Jake's right. There's no need to talk about it."
T.K. dropped some money on the table. "You're a friend, Maggie. I won't be forgetting. Is there anything you need, anything I can do for you?"
A gleam of amusement darkened her eyes. "You could start by getting rid of this woman at your ranch. I know she's beautiful. You didn't say, but you didn't need to." From beneath long thick lashes, Maggie shot him a quick glance that traveled his tall frame from his dark hair to his booted feet. "And I've lost a customer, a handsome bastard I'd prefer to keep."
T.K. laughed. He stood and, after a moment, lowered his head to kiss her cheek. "I never count the mavericks till they're branded. When the branding is over, we'll see what happens."
"If I know you, T.K., you'll make something happen."
He bounced her remark around in his head on the long ride back to the Lazy B. Maggie hadn't answered his questions, but talking to her had made him feel infinitely better.
He had Lee and Toddie at the ranch. He could keep an eye on them. He'd been lucky, and as Lee might have said, if his luck held, there was a better than fifty-fifty chance he could win.
Elise handed the drawing to Vesper and watched as the black woman walked to the lamp in order to study it. "Lee, you done made it look 'zactly like him. Maybe too much like him. Those spots under his eyes are the same kind an old man's got." Vesper compared the sketch to the framed likeness on the parlor wall. "They're darker now those spots. That boy jes' don't like to eat."
Later, upstairs in her bedr
oom, Elise comforted Toddie after a bad dream and lay with him until he quieted. What would she do if something happened to Toddie? What in God's name would she do? The thought of losing Toddie was unbearably painful. She stroked his hair, which was so much like T.K.'s, and struggled with the lump in her throat. She ran a light finger over his cheek and traced the dent in his chin. "I love you, baby."
Elise drew herself erect and glanced over her shoulder. The noise was subtle, coming from the yard. She rose and went to the window. Nothing stirred, but the noise came again. She threw on a nightrobe and hurried downstairs. Pausing at the door, she opened it and went outside.
"Who's here?" she called.
"What are you doing out here?" T.K. asked roughly.
"I heard something."
He came out of the shadows and onto the porch. "No need to be afraid. The men are in the bunkhouse."
"I didn't know you were back." As he came closer to her, she became aware of his man scent mixed with the smell of alcohol and tobacco. "I wondered where you were."
"It doesn't matter, Lee, where I've been or where you've been." He clasped her shoulders. His eyes blazed into hers, his voice was low and compelling. "We need to talk."
Tiny, delicious sensations started in her stomach before panic erupted within her. Had he found out she'd lied about Toddie? "What about?"
He drew her down beside him on the steps. "Are you cold?"
"No. Yes. A little."
His eyes gleamed in the faint light of the moon. There was a hint of humor in his voice. "I could put my arm around you."
"That won't be necessary."
He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "The preacher had a few things to say about your living here. He included Toddie."
Knowing that the problem was not her identity, she waited for him to continue. When he said nothing, she turned to look at his profile, granite hard in the moonlight. "Tell me," she whispered. "It won't get any easier by waiting."
"I suppose not." He looked uncomfortable. "The good parson says that, for the sake of the child and the young people of the area, we should get married."
She splayed her fingers over her mouth to hide her astonishment. Never in a thousand years would such a thought have entered her mind. Hell and damnation, she was really in trouble. "Are you drunk? Do you know what you're saying? The church people look on me as a whore. Will our getting married make me respectable?"
"Don't use that word." He didn't try to hide his annoyance. "Put those thoughts away, Lee, and think of Toddie."
"Will it?" she asked again.
"The preacher seems to think so."
"And you?"
"Lee, I've told you before that I don't care what people think."
"Then why do you want to marry me?"
T.K. shifted abruptly. "Toddie's a Burke."
She laughed lightly, mockingly. "And you'd marry me for Toddie's sake?"
"He deserves a name."
"That's generous of you. And Patrick? What about Patrick?"
T.K. watched her as she drew her feet up and rested her chin on her knees. "Decency demands we think of Toddie."
"But Toddie has a father." She wondered if she looked as shaken as he did, and drawing an uneasy breath, she decided she probably did.
"I've considered that. Guess we can worry when and if his father returns. Doesn't seem as important as some other things we need to consider."
She rose, and he followed her. "Toddie's future would be assured."
"Yours, too. You'd be my wife."
A sweet excitement found its way up her spine.
"Sounds as if we're bargaining."
He shrugged, leaning one shoulder against the wall. "Call it whatever you like." He pushed away to stare down at her. There was no mistaking his strength. His voice became low and husky. "Would being my wife be so bad?"
"What if Patrick returns and wants his son? You'd be stuck with me as your wife. What then? Doesn't that thought bother you?" Tension increased between them. "Well, doesn't it?"
"It would be up to you. If you decided to go with him"
At that moment, she wanted desperately to forget that Patrick Burke had ever existed. "Patrick rode away once. He's already tipped his hand."
T.K.'s mouth slowly relaxed its grimness, becoming tender and sensual. "So Toddie is really all you have to worry about."
Toddie was the only worry? No. When Patrick came back, her world would collapse. In the meantime, she'd pretend to be somebody she wasn't. Was she strong enough to lose her own identity in the personality of somebody else? She thought of Toddie, with his angelic face. He was worth any sacrifice. Bravely, resolutely, she raised her chin. She'd stay ready for whatever came.
She was doing all right until T.K. grinned at her. Gently, he rubbed a thumb over her lips. Her heart started beating a wild rhythm, fanning heat through her, curling around her breasts and centering between her thighs. Shock widened her eyes as he drew her closer. His face was just above hers, and he intended to kiss her. Elise waited breathlessly for the descent of his mouth.
Instead, T.K. caressed her with a whisper. "Kiss me, Lee." When her lips didn't part, he touched the corner of her mouth with his tongue. "Don't want to?"
She placed her hands against his solid chest to push him away. Instead, her arms seemed to find their way around his neck.
He chuckled against her lips. "Just what I had in mind. Now open your mouth."
"What?" she whispered, bewildered.
"Help me, honey."
His frustration became evident in the insistent probe of his tongue. Finally, he eased her lips apart by gently pressing his thumb and middle finger on either side of her mouth. Then he swooped in to take possession. He kissed her again and again, his hands boldly exploring her body.
When at last he lifted his head, she drew a deep shuddering breath. Moonlight caught the tenderness in his eyes, and he smiled. Wisps of her hair blew over her cheeks, and he brushed them back. He held her close, molding her body against him, until she could feel the pulsing length of him. Hungrily, his mouth covered hers, scorching her, spiraling her once more into a new burst of sensation. His fingers slid beneath the robe to the strap of her nightgown.
"Lee." His low voice caressed her, and his callused hand moved over to knead and fondle her breast. Its crest sprang to life in his palm. He nuzzled her throat, the hollow at her collarbone. "Want me, honey. Want me the way I want you."
Reality returned with a crash. Horrified at how he made her feel, she grasped his exploring hand. "No. Please. We can't do this."
T.K. didn't release her, instead he cradled her closer, whispering against her ear. "Why, honey? One good reason."
"We mustn't," she said, her voice quavering. Then she tried to pull away.
"That isn't a reason, Lee. We both want it." He stared down at her, as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Or am I mistaken?"
"You were mistaken," she murmured so low he had to lean closer to hear.
"I'm not a schoolboy, Lee. I can recognize passion."
So can I, she thought wretchedly. "What do you want from me?"
Amusement deepened the lines around his mouth. "A hell of a question right now. Are you sure you want an honest answer?"
"I'm not afraid to hear the truth." A lie on top of the others.
"Well, for a starter, you're beautiful. In that nightgown you're seductive as hell. Skin smooth as silk. A body made for a man's touch. You smell nice. A man just naturally notices those things." His arms tightened. "Makes him want to kiss some naked flesh."
"No. No, I have to think about it."
"You're trembling. Are you afraid of me?"
She wriggled to free herself. "I'm not afraid of a Burke."
His laugh lacked humor. "Now you have us back on safe ground."
But something had changed between them, and Elise wondered if she were the only one who realized it. It wasn't just the kiss, which was disturbing enough, but an awareness of the situation
and what ultimately could force them together or tear them apart.
"What do you expect of me?"
Suddenly, he was still, rock hard, calculating. "What any healthy male expects from a mate. What exactly am I not to expect from you?"
At last, she could be truthful. "I don't know. I'll think over your proposal."
"Seems to me you haven't much of a damn choice. Toddie's welfare must mean something to you. Of course, you could go back to the saloon in Boggy Creek.'' Growling, he threw up his hands. "I'll be leaving for Abilene around the first of the month. Let me know by then."
"That will be time enough."
When the moon skittered from behind a cloud, she could see his face clearly. His eyes were narrowed, and he was studying her. Did he see a dance-hall queen or a vulnerable, inexperienced woman?
Chapter Six
Elise fled upstairs and tore off her robe. She flung the garment toward a chair and herself at the bed. She was afraid of T.K. Burke and of how he made her feel when he held her in his arms. And she was scared of his proposal of marriage.
Until that night she'd never even kissed a man, besides the groom at the riding stable in New Orleans. And then she had been a mere girl.
"There's a special way to kiss that men like," her stepsister had said an eternity ago. "You'll learn sometime."
Elise had learned that night. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel T.K.'s lips on hers. And later he had backed away, his hands on his narrow hips, his big body vibrating in anger and something more she recognized, but didn't understand.
After a while, she rose, lit the lamp, and took charcoal and a drawing pad from the table. With a few deft lines, she drew the forehead, the dark hair, the strong jaw. She curled a bandanna around his neck and darkened the knot. Pausing a moment, she sketched the eyes with their barely concealed passion, then with a few added strokes the full, sensual lips. There was character in the lines of his face, humor, strength, and, yes, a gentleness.
"That's the way you looked in the moonlight, T.K. Burke," she whispered. She carefully placed the drawing in a drawer of the desk. Much later, she lay in the darkness, gazing at the ceiling.
A Leaf in the Wind Page 8