Tess listened with half an ear, her mind on the separate beds she and Zach slept in, the separate beds that Jobeth, at eight, didn’t see as particularly odd. The separate beds that no one else knew about.
But if Edna moved in, then Edna would figure it out. And Tess didn’t want her to know. She didn’t want Edna looking at her with worry in her eyes. And she most certainly did not want to answer any of the questions that Edna would eventually work up the courage to ask.
“Well, anyway,” Edna said briskly, “I’ve been thinking about the foreman’s cottage. It’s empty now, isn’t it?”
The foreman’s cottage. Across the yard. Tess breathed a little easier. If Edna wanted to live there, then Tess and Zach’s privacy on the matter of their current sleeping arrangements just might be maintained.
Edna sighed. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t have asked, should I? I can tell by your silence that it simply isn’t a good idea.”
Tess smiled into the phone. “Oh, really? I haven’t said a word, and already you’re sure I’m saying no?”
Edna made a small sound of distress. “Don’t tease me. You know I hate to be teased.”
“All right,” Tess replied more gently. “I won’t tease you. When will you move in?”
There was silence, then some sputtering. “Oh, really. Let’s slow down a little here. You’ll have to talk with Zach.”
“Edna, you are always welcome here. We both know that.”
“All the same, I would insist that you talk with Zach. Maybe he doesn’t want an old lady around, getting in the way all time.”
“Edna. Stop it. The Rising Sun is your home anytime you want to return to it. We all know it. Zach will only ask what I’m asking, which is when do you want to move in?”
“Soon.” Edna’s voice sounded so small, suddenly. “Right away.”
“Then we’ll move you. Right away.”
“Talk to Zach. And call me back.”
“Edna, it’s not necessary.”
“You will talk to him first. And then you will call me.” Now the older woman’s tone would have done Queen Victoria proud.
“All right. I’ll talk to him tonight. And call you first thing in the morning.”
The night was mild. Tess sat out on the long gallery at the front of the house, a light sweater across her shoulders and Zach’s sweet old mutt, Reggie, on the step beside her. Maybe she was testing Zach a little, seeing if he’d come all the way out to the porch to find her.
When she heard the door open behind her, she smiled. He, had come. He had made the extra effort to seek her out in a different place. It was a small thing. But small things added up.
He came and stood over her. “What are you up to?”
She leaned her head back a little. “Watching the clouds float by that sliver of moon.”
He made a small clicking noise with his tongue. With a heavy sigh, old Reggie dragged himself off the step and stretched out on the ground below.
Zach sat in the dog’s place. For a moment, they were silent, staring out at the night together. A coyote howled, off near the mountains.
Then Tess spoke softly. “It’s a nice night. Almost warm.”
“It is at that.”
She turned and looked at him. He was watching her. It was one of those moments, when his eyes said things his lips never did. In those eyes she saw promises. Pleasures. Fulfillment.
A shiver went through her. She gathered her sweater a little tighter, wondering, If I scooted over close to him, pressed myself shamelessly against him, would he put his arm around me?
“Cold?”
She should say yes, she should sidle on over like a cat seeking strokes. But her nerve failed her. “No, no. I’m fine.”
He looked out toward the night again and the moment passed, leaving her a little let down, a little edgy. A little bit hungry for what might have been.
She remembered her conversation with Edna. “Zach?”
He looked at her again, cocking an eyebrow.
“Edna called today.”
He went on looking at her for a long moment, then he said, “She wants to move back out here, to the ranch.”
She stared at him. “How did you know?”
He shrugged. “Edna’s more a mother to me than Elaine Bravo ever was. I know her. She was in heaven, in town, when you and Jo were there with her. But she’s got to be lonely, all by herself. She needs people she cares for close by, to coddle. And to boss around.” He reached out, tugged on the edge of her sweater. “You knew she’d be coming eventually. Didn’t you?”
Tess felt breathless and lovely. That little tug on her sweater had almost been a caress.
“Tess. Didn’t you know?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
“Does she want her old room back?” Edna’s old room was the room he slept in now; a nice, large, west-facing room with its own private bath. What would he have done, if Edna did want it back? Move to the one room that was left, and share a bath with Jobeth?
Oh, she didn’t understand him. He seemed totally unconcerned about what Edna might discover if she lived in the house with them.
“Tess.” He was looking at her sideways. “Did you hear my question?”
“Oh. Sorry. No, not her old room. She asked about the foreman’s cottage.”
He seemed to consider that, then nodded. “That’s a good idea. She’d be close to us, but she’d have her privacy.”
And so would we, Tess thought but didn’t say. “Yes. It is. A good idea.”
“When’s she coming?”
“I take it that means you have no problem with her moving here.”
His brows drew together in a puzzled frown. “How could I have a problem? She’s Edna. She’s always got a place here.”
“That’s exactly what I told her, but she kept insisting that I had to ask you first, before we agreed on the move.”
He grunted, a sound of bafflement. “She’s funny.”
“She doesn’t want to intrude.”
“Intrude on what?” He was looking at her again, steadily. Probingly.
She just looked right back at him, saying nothing.
“Intrude on what, Tess?”
She felt angry with him, suddenly. For the way he could affect her lately, for this new and bewildering power he seemed to wield over her senses. And for his ability to hide whatever was going on inside him—if there actually was anything going on inside him.
She squared her shoulders and replied tartly, “She doesn’t want to intrude on us, on our lives together as...man and wife.”
He regarded her, taking his time as he always did, before he spoke again. Then he said, “She won’t intrude, not as far as I’m concerned. What about you?”
She wanted to throw back her head and howl at that sliver of moon up above. Howl in frustration. In confusion. In pure aggravation. But she didn’t. Oh, no. She could be every bit as calm and collected as he could, yessiree.
“No, Zach,” she said, with excruciating sweetness. “It’s not a problem for me. Not at all. Not one bit. I mean, why should it be? What’s there to intrude on, anyway?”
Did he tense up, just a little? Had she gotten to him, just a tiny bit? She hoped so. It was small and petty and mean of her, but she did hope so. She hoped that he—
Her vindictive thoughts flew right out of her head as he reached for her. His hand—so warm, so rough, so exactly what she craved—slid around to cup her nape.
He pulled her to him, slowly. And when their lips were inches apart, he whispered, “What’s your problem?”
His hand moved, at her nape, his fingers threading themselves into her hair. It felt good, so right, to have him touch her....
“Tess.” He said her name in a whisper. “What is your problem?”
She made herself whisper right back at him, calmly, with assurance, “I don’t know what you mean,” as if he wasn’t so close. Or as if he got that close all the time. “I don’t have any problem.”
He low
ered his gaze to watch her mouth move, and then he met her eyes again. Almost tenderly, he murmured, “Good, then. Tell her to move in. Right away.”
She whispered back, all sweetness, “That’s exactly what I’ll tell her.”
And he said, “Fine.”
And she said, “It’s settled then.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Settled.”
And then he moved forward, just a fraction, until his lips brushed hers—so lightly, hardly more than a touch. Enough to make her yearn for more.
Almost instantly, he released her and stood.
She looked up at him, not trusting herself to speak.
He was already turning away, for the front door. “Good night.” He tossed the words back at her, over a shoulder, then opened the door and went inside.
Once he was gone, she sat for a long time, watching the night, listening to a lone dove somewhere over near the foreman’s cottage as it cooed forlornly in the dark.
Chapter Nine
Edna moved into the foreman’s cottage that Saturday. Cash wanted to hire a regular moving company, but Edna wouldn’t hear of such an expense. So they rented a moving truck to transport the furniture. Zach and Cash provided the muscle.
By evening, they had it all moved in. Then Cash, Abby and Tyler Ross stayed for dinner. Tess served pork tenderloins and green beans and mashed potatoes with pork gravy. The food was great, as usual. Zach looked at his wife down the table. She glanced up and smiled at him. As he smiled in return, he realized how good it made him feel to see her there. Real good. Maybe too good.
Cash made some offhand remark. Everyone laughed. Zach watched his wife as she laughed, too, a thoroughly appropriate laugh, neither too warm nor too long. She hid her feelings well. No one would guess how she felt about Cash.
No one but her husband, who just happened to have caught her at an unguarded moment, when her heart showed in her eyes.
After the meal, the women, along with Jobeth and Tyler Ross, retreated to the foreman’s cottage.
Zach turned to Cash. “Come on. Let’s have a look at the books.”
Cash immediately tried to get out of it. “Zach. Give it a rest. I’ve been lugging Edna’s damn furniture around all afternoon. I’d like another drink. And I’d really like a smoke.”
“You quit.”
“Don’t remind me. Let’s just go in the other room and get the bottle of Black Jack from the cabinet and—”
“Get the bottle. And bring it in my office.”
Cash tried a stubborn glare. “Zach.”
“You and Nate have to know what goes on around here.”
“We do know. You’re the operator and a damn fine one and when I’m curious about the bottom line, I’ll let you know.”
“Go get the bottle. And a couple of glasses. And come on.”
Cash moaned and groaned some more, but he finally got the whiskey and glasses and followed Zach into the office.
They sat together at the computer and Zach scrolled through the spreadsheets, showing his cousin exactly how the ranch was doing in terms of dollars and cents.
“The count seems a little low,” Cash said, referring to the number of cattle they’d counted during branding time just passed. “It’s not all that bad, but it’s just not quite up to what we thought it would be.”
“No, it’s not.” With a frustration that made a burning in his gut, Zach thought of the mysterious tire tracks that kept appearing in his pastures. Cash knew all about the tracks. Zach kept both him and Nate posted on the situation.
“Come on,” Cash said. “Don’t look so damn grim. These numbers tell me we’re absorbing the loss with no problem—if there really is a loss.”
“There’s a loss, bet on it. The tracks we found in February match the ones we’ve found since then. We’re getting hit. And regularly. And if—when—I catch those bastards, there will be hell to pay.”
Cash chuckled. “You’re starting to get mad, cousin.”
“That I am.”
“But you never get mad.”
“Never say never.”
Cash looked at Zach for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. “I pity those poor S.O.B.’s—” he smiled that smile that drove the women wild “—when you find them.” He frowned, then grinned again. “Hey. I almost forgot.”
“What?”
“Wait right there.” Cash got up and went out through the dining room.
Zach exited the spreadsheet program, switched off his computer and waited. His cousin returned a few minutes later, carrying a box.
“What now?” Zach asked grimly.
Cash was beaming. He pulled a cell phone from the box, a big one, about the size of an appointment book. “Your very own cellular phone. A bag phone, in this case. Three watts of pure power. That’s enough to get pretty good reception anywhere on the Rising Sun. And don’t give me that what-a-waste-of-money look. These things are damn convenient. You break your leg—or run into our phantom rustlers—out in the North Pasture, you’ll be glad you can just phone home.” He grunted. “’Course, cell phones have a drawback or two. Sometimes the reception’s not so great on them—especially around these parts, even with a bag phone. Also if you don’t recharge them, they go dead.”
“And a call on one costs a fortune.”
“Don’t be a skinflint. You need to keep up with the times. This baby’s all set up and ready to go. Let me show you how it works.”
“You mean the Rising Sun will be getting a bill any day now.”
“Come on, come on. You’re gonna love this....”
A few minutes later, Zach set down his new cell phone. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Before you know it, you’ll be wanting them for Tess and Edna, too.”
“We’ll see.” Zach shot Cash a sideways look. “Got a smoke?”
Cash raked a hand back through his gold hair. “You just said it an hour ago. I quit.”
Zach grunted. “Yeah. But have you got a cigarette?”
Cash studied Zach as if he were some strange new species of man. “How long’s it been, since you had a smoke?”
Zach drained the last of his whiskey. “Six months, a year. I couldn’t say for sure.”
“Haven’t you heard? Smoking’s addictive.”
“I can take it or leave it.”
“Right. Rub it in.”
Zach set down his empty glass. “You didn’t answer my original question.”
Cash sent a furtive glance toward the door to the dining room, as if he expected Abby to come strolling through it the minute he lit up. Then he lowered his voice. “We could go out back, by the barn.”
Zach grinned. “Yeah, that’s a long way from the foreman’s cottage, where your wife is right now.”
Cash said, “Don’t even give me that smirky-assed look. Abby worries about me, that’s all. She cares about my health.”
“Abby’s right,” Zach said, feeling bad all of a sudden, wondering where the hell his own good judgment had gone. Though Nate had quit years ago and Zach rarely smoked, Cash struggled constantly with a nicotine addiction that he never seemed to lick. Zach had no business suggesting that the two of them light up. “Forget I asked about it.”
Cash laughed. “It’s too late to forget now.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It just so happens I’ve got a pack stashed in the moving truck.”
“Look. I said let it go.”
Cash peered at Zach more closely. “Something bothering you, cousin?”
Zach kept his face expressionless, though Tess’s image flashed through his mind. “No. Why?”
“You seem edgy tonight. And you’re always the upright one. It’s not like you to even mention a cigarette around a nicotine fiend like me.”
Zach figured extended denials would only make his cousin more suspicious. “Maybe I am a little on edge. It’s the missing stock, I guess.”
“Well,” Cash said. “If you’ve changed your mind about that smoke, good fo
r you. I haven’t.”
Zach turned for the door. “Fine. Go get the damn things. I’ll meet you out back.”
They hung on the fence to the horse pasture, the smoke from their cigarettes trailing up toward the stars. Callabash and Ladybird trotted over, accepted a little coddling, and then wandered away.
“So how’s married life treatin’ you?” Cash asked after they’d puffed away for a few minutes in silence.
Zach shot his cousin a look. But Cash just went on smoking, totally oblivious to Zach’s problems—or to his own perfectly innocent part in them.
Cash turned and squinted through the cloud of smoke. “Well?”
“Good,” Zach said. “Real good.”
“Tess is a fine woman.”
“Yeah. She is.”
“She deserved a real chance for once.”
“She sure did.”
“And because of you, she got it.”
Zach looked away, out toward the center of the pasture, where Ladybird was nipping at the grass.
Cash added, “And the house looks great. The new paint really lightens things up.”
Zach sucked in more acrid smoke and wondered what the hell had possessed him to ask for a cigarette, anyway. “Yeah. Tess chose all the colors. She has an eye for stuff like that.”
Cash fell silent, then asked, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m good, Cash. Real good.” Other than the fact that some rustling bastard is stealing us blind and my wife’s in love with you. “And we probably ought to be heading on back inside.”
Cash made a noise of agreement as he crushed the butt under his heel.
Zach put out his own cigarette and started to turn for the house.
Cash said, “Hey.”
Zach turned back. “Yeah?”
“Maybe we should hire some men. To patrol the place. What do you think?”
Zach considered, and then shook his head. “Let’s give it a while. See if it keeps up.”
“You think they’ll stop?”
“No.”
Cash was looking at him real hard. “You don’t want them to stop.”
“I did at first. But now...”
“You just want to catch them in the act.”
“You got it.”
“Be careful.”
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