Edward smiled congenially and, bending slightly pressed her knuckles to his lips. His mouth felt warm and moist. Too warm and moist, Amanda thought as another mouth came to mind—a mouth that was hot and searing, a mouth that could make her blood fire when it grazed much more intimate parts of her than the back of her hands.
"Are you sure you won't reconsider staying?"
Edward said as he straightened. He didn't release her hand, but kept it clasped firmly, almost possessively, in his own. "Just for a few days?"
Amanda didn't pull away, it would be impolite, but she thought about it. Not for the first time that afternoon did she wonder about how easily she'd slipped back into rigid manners. Oh, how false the facade felt!
She inclined her head and smiled. "While I appreciate the offer, I've business to attend to in Pony." She thought of the money tucked away in her saddlebag, of how surprised Jake was going to be when she actually did pay him. "And, of course, I'd like to get settled in Washington before winter really sets in."
"Ah, Washington. Such a lovely place," Edward replied casually. Amanda held her smile—through sheer force of will—though she was gritting her teeth. These pleasantries were straining her frayed nerves. "I visit Seattle once or twice a year on business. You wouldn't mind if I paid you a call the next time I'm in the area, would you, Miss Lennox?"
If it meant having to exchange small talk with him for any length of time, then Amanda thought that, yes, she would definitely mind a visit from this man. Of course, she couldn't tell Edward Bannister that. It would be rude. Instead, as inconspicuously as possible, she slipped her hand free and said sweetly, "That would be lovely. I'll look forward to it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must... What? What is it?"
Amanda frowned and glanced over her shoulder to see what had brought that sudden, tight expression to Edward Bannister's face. What she saw was Jake Chandler tethering his horse to the post next to hers. Her heart gave an unsteady leap, and a genuine smile started to curl over her lips... until she noticed the sudden, coiled tension in the man standing beside her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Edward snarled, his hands waving like he was trying to shoo away a pesky bee. "Get that horse off my land. You're kind isn't welcome h—"
"Mr. Bannister!" Amanda gasped. Her gaze shifted to Jake. The muscle in his cheek jerked angrily, and the dangerous glint in the gaze he narrowed on Edward Bannister made her catch her breath. Was this the sort of thing Jake faced all the time? The semi-tolerant way he was reacting told her it was. "Mr. Bannister, please, you don't understand. This man is—"
"A filthy half-breed," Edward sneered, though he took the time to pat Amanda's hand reassuringly. "I can see that, Miss Lennox. And I understand only too well." His nostrils flared as he pierced Jake with a disgusted glare. "I understand they have reservations for... his kind, and I understand that he should be on one instead of being allowed to roam free and accost decent people like us."
The temptation to slap Edward Bannister's face was strong and it took some effort for Amanda not to surrender to it. Her conscience insisted that she try once more to make Edward understand exactly who Jake was. Surely once he knew...? "Jake hasn't accosted us, Mr. Bannister. For that matter, he—"
The intensity of having Edward Bannister's cold blue eyes stab into her wilted the words on Amanda's throat.
"Jake? Did you call him Jake? Miss Lennox, are you saying you know this... this...?"
Amanda's spine stiffened, and her chin tipped haughtily as she pierced Edward Bannister with a regal glare. "Man," she supplied frostily. "And yes, I know him. He's—"
"How well?" Edward snapped angrily. "How well do you know this breed? Do you know him intimately?"
It wasn't the question that stunned Amanda speechless, so much as the contemptuous way Edward Bannister sneered it. That, and the vicious way he reached for her. His finger had no sooner bitten painfully into her upper arms than Amanda heard a foot slam onto the bottom step of the porch, hard enough to make the wood groan and threaten to splinter.
"Not a good idea, Bannister," Jake growled, and took another step up—just as loudly.
Amanda thought Jake must indeed be furious to have made that much noise. Edward Bannister must have realized the same thing, for she felt and saw a shiver ripple through his thin body. While his grip on her arms loosened, it didn't drop away.
"Don't do what?" Edward growled, his glare still fastened on Amanda. "I'll do anything I have to to find out what this... this... lady has been doing in front of my son! This is my house, my land. I can do any damn thing I please, and no half-breed is going to stop me!"
"Wanna bet?" Jake's voice was as sharp and as deadly as the blade of the knife he unsheathed from his belt. "One thing you can't do, Bannister, not here or anywhere else, is hurt the lady. I forbid it."
Edward Bannister was nothing if not cocky—both his wealth and his social position in Pony assured that. That was the only way Amanda could explain the fact that the man did not at that point turn fully around to face Jake. Amanda, on the other hand, didn't have to turn at all to see him. Jake appeared directly behind Bannister's narrow shoulder. His icy glare, she noticed, was as much for her as it was for the man holding her.
The long, curved blade of the knife glinted in the sunlight as Jake pressed just the tip against the nape of Bannister's neck. "I'll warn you only once. And you can thank the lady for that, because it's one more warning than I usually give."
"I'm not afraid of you, breed. Go ahead, cut me. We both know that if you touch one hair on my head, the residents of this town will string you up just as fast as they can find a rope strong enough to hold you."
"I'll keep it in mind." Jake's pause was short, succulent. "But I won't let it stop me."
Something about the emotionless way he said it must have finally gotten through to Bannister. He let Amanda go so quickly that she staggered back a few steps. One of the squared porch posts slammed into her back when she stumbled against it. The bite of pain was the least of her worries. She still had to get around Edward Bannister to reach the stairs.
Amanda glanced at Jake, and he nodded briskly. Resheathing the knife, he grabbed a fistful of Edward Bannister's collar and hauled him roughly out of the way, giving Amanda more than enough room to pass. She did so quickly and without hesitation.
She didn't realize she was shaking until she started to descend the stairs. She had to hold tightly to the railing to keep from falling, her knees felt that unsubstantial. How was she going to climb onto the mare in this condition? She'd find the strength somehow—she'd do whatever it took to get away from Edward Bannister's hateful insinuations and insults.
Amanda knew the second Jake descended the stairs, though he made no sound and she wasn't looking. She didn't have to be. Her back prickled with awareness, even as it warmed to his body heat. His earthy scent wafted over her, calming her a bit. She knew exactly when he came to stand behind her, knew when he raised his hand, and when his big copper palm hesitated a mere inch from her shoulder. She also knew when that hand dropped to his side, as well as when and he swaggered to the white and vaulted atop it. The moment was etched in time; it was the exact second her heart stopped beating and her soul shattered into a thousand irretrievable slivers.
Fury. Had she ever felt so much of it, so intensely, as she did right now when she glared up at Edward Bannister? It coursed through her in hot waves; for once she didn't fight it. Anger made her reckless, and Amanda didn't fight that either. "Just so you know, Mr. Bannister," she said in her coolest, haughtiest tone, "what I was trying to tell you before—what you refused to hear—is that this man saved your son's life. If it wasn't for him, Roger might be dead right now."
Bannister paled considerably, but Amanda had to give him credit for holding his ground—if for nothing else. Neither his physical stance nor his mental one budged an inch. "I'm sure if Roger had known he'd be indebted to a half-breed for saving his life, he would have done what any good Bannister would d
o... he would have died with dignity."
Amanda was still reeling from that parting shot when the man spun on his heel and stormed into his house. The door slammed behind him loud enough to make the sparkling glass panes in the windows rattle.
"Think you understand a bit better now, princess?" Jake asked harshly. "I told you it wouldn't work out with us. Now you know why."
Amanda could feel Jake's gaze on her as she scrambled off the horse, but she was too furious to give a damn. "Why of all the—!"
"Leave Bannister alone, princess. It doesn't concern you."
"I will not leave him alone. And I resent you thinking I should. Whether you like it or not, Jake Chandler, this entire incident most certainly does concern me!" With jerky motions she unstrapped the heavy saddlebag and tossed it onto the ground. Unmindful of the dirt she was grinding into the only decent dress she now owned, Amanda knelt in front of the saddlebag and tore open the flap. With jerky movements, she upended the leather satchel and scattered the contents around her. She sneered when she found what she was looking for—and lots of it, too!
Her fingers were still trembling; she had to count the money four times before she could be sure she had the right amount. Standing on watery knees, she walked around the mare, stopping only when she was close to Jake. She could have touched him if she'd wanted to. She didn't. It was bad enough he was so near she could feel every masculine inch of him invade her.
"Here." With a toss of her head, she glanced up at him.
He met her glare with one insolently cocked brow. "What?"
"Here!" Both of her hands were curled around fistfuls of money. She lifted them, and slammed her fists simultaneously into Jake's rock-hard gut. If his whooof of surprise was anything to go by, she had done an admirable job of catching him off guard. Good. She wanted him off guard. She wanted his arrogant head reeling; the same way hers had been ever since she'd first set eyes on him. "Your money, Mr. Chandler. That is what you came here for, isn't it?"
Yes, it was. And since they both obviously knew it, Jake saw no reason to deny it. He was, however, shocked that he hadn't had to hunt Amanda down and wheedle it out of her. That, he'd been prepared for, expecting even. One of the many things he wasn't prepared for was the way Amanda let go of the money at the first touch of his fingers grazing hers.
Jake's wounded arm screamed a protest as he caught most of the bills, but not all. A few stray ones fluttered to the ground or were caught by the chilly afternoon breeze. He didn't see them. His gaze was riveted on Amanda—would the lady never cease to surprise him? He watched her stomp back to her saddlebag. Again, she knelt, and again she yanked money out of the shadowy interior. But only one handful this time.
Jake frowned. "Now what the hell are you doing?"
Was Jake laughing at her? Amanda's gaze snapped to him, but she didn't see even a hint of a grin. She'd smelled liquor on his breath, so maybe he was drunk; that would explain it. One thing was for certain, his tone had been riddled with amusement. That served only to rile her all the more. "Watch and find out!"
She slammed up the porch stairs, then hammered on the door with her free fist. It was opened too quickly for Edward Bannister to have been doing anything but standing on the other side, watching through the shield of curtains and glass.
"Now what?" he snapped, his gaze volleying between her and Jake. "I thought you'd left."
"I'm going," Amanda said tightly. "Believe me, I don't want to be here a second longer than I have to. Unfortunately, I forgot one minor detail."
"Which is?"
Amanda cast him her sweetest smile and, with more force than was necessary, punched her money-laden fist smack into the center of Edward Bannister's bony chest. The man's breath poured from his lungs; the sound was more satisfying than anything Amanda could remember having heard in ages!
Bannister staggered backward from the blow, his expression half surprise, half pain. Since he hadn't realized Amanda had anything in her hand, he made no move to grab the money. Pity. The second her fingers uncurled, crinkled bills showered the porch floor. "What the—?"
"It's money, Mr. Bannister. Your money, to be precise. I've decided I don't want it."
Bannister's gaze rounded on the bills that were scattered over his shoes, over the whitewashed planks, everywhere. His mouth worked, but nothing came out. Obviously he'd never had anyone throw money in his face before. Especially if that money was originally his. It gave Amanda a sense of supreme satisfaction to know she was the first.
"A-are you crazy?" Bannister stammered. He bent and automatically started gathering up the bills before the breeze could toss them to who knows where.
"Yes, I must be," Amanda said in a tone that would have done any tea social justice—calm, cool, collected... savage. "I'm crazy to have taken a job where my employer was a prejudiced bastard like yourself. Lord knows what I was thinking."
Jake grinned. He knew damn well what he was thinking: that his prissy little white princess had lost her cotton pickin' mind! He didn't say that, though. He couldn't. For the first time in his life, a woman had left him speechless.
He found his voice fast enough when Amanda spun on her heel and stalked toward the mare. Her face was flushed with fury, her green eyes sparkling with contempt. Her jaw was set in a hard, determined line that said... Jesus, she really was going to leave all that money behind! "Amanda..."
"Oh, shut the hell up, Jake," she snapped irritably. "I know what I'm doing."
"I doubt that, princess. I really do." Jake brought himself up short, a scowl furrowing his brow. Had Amanda just cussed? Amanda?
"Is that so? Well, this may come as a surprise to you, but I don't really give a damn what you think of me. Not anymore."
She swung up onto the mare, but didn't leave. Not yet. There was still one more tiny matter to take care of.
Her attention shifted to Jake, and she pierced him with a furious glare. "You're right. I should have listened when you said it wouldn't work out between us." Oh, but she liked the way Jake squirmed when she said that! And that red tinge to his copper cheeks was a heady sight. "But," she added tightly, leaning toward him, "not for the reasons you seem to think. You see, whether you believe it or not, Jake, it never mattered to me what color your skin is. White, red, black, green, I never gave a damn. I look at the man inside the skin. And when I look at you, I see only half a man. Sorry, but that isn't enough for me. You aren't man enough for me, Jacob Blackhawk Chandler!"
It was the bourbon. Obviously it had affected Jake more than he'd thought, to the point where he was hearing things. Amanda couldn't possibly have just said...? Yup, the victorious glare she sent him before sinking her heels into the mare's flanks said his hearing wasn't faulty.
Dammit, he'd just been royally insulted. The spunky little bitch! "Where the hell do you think you're going? Amanda? Amanda!"
"Washington, Mr. Chandler," she called back over her shoulder, her voice quickly receding. "Where I was going before I met you. Where I'll live perfectly happily without you." Under her breath, Amanda added,, "And I will. If it kills me, Goddammit, I swear I will!"
It wasn't until Jake made a grab for the reins that he realized he still had the money fisted haphazardly in his hands. Dammit! Well, maybe Amanda was stupid enough to fling her portion back in Edward Bannister's face, but Jake was more practical. This was more money than he'd made in his entire life, and he had plans for it! He'd earned it and... by God, he intended to keep it.
Jake stuffed the greenbacks into his saddlebag, then spun the white around. Leaning low over the horse's neck, he growled a command in its ear to go. Quickly. Now.
The people milling about Main Street had the good sense to scatter. It was either that, or be run down.
Chapter 25
Amanda knelt on the hard, lumpy ground. Her smile was wide and proud. Every time she saw the first spark catch on a pile of dried grass and twigs she felt a heady surge of victory. Leaning forward, she blew on the first fragile teardrop of flame.
Her smile broadened when it caught and quickly spread.
In no time the air was thick with the scent of burning wood, and Amanda was being warmed by the heat of a roaring fire. A sigh of contentment whispered past her lips as she sat back on her heels. Still grinning, she tucked the oversized box of matches into her saddlebag.
After a brief, almost guilty hesitation, she removed a can of peaches and a can opener from the leather bag. Stifling a yawn, she propped her back against the gritty trunk of a nearby pine and pried open the tin can.
There was a time when she would have turned her nose up at such a paltry meal. But not anymore. This was a delicacy! After days of eating nothing but jerky and beans, the peaches smelled sweet and syrupy and tempting beyond reason. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation.
She ate slowly, savoring each bit, letting the sweet, fruity taste linger on her tongue until it had almost disappeared before licking her lips and taking another bite. In no time she was scraping the bottom of the can, then shamelessly tilting her head back to drain every delicious drop of syrup.
Gone. Lowering the can to her lap, she sighed. This was her last can of peaches, and she wouldn't be getting more any time soon. Even if she came across a town that sold them, she didn't have enough money to buy them.
On second thought, she didn't have the money to buy anything. What little she'd had had gone into buying enough supplies to get her to Washington. Jerky and beans and an extra wool blanket had seemed like important purchases... at the time. Yet right now Amanda would trade them all for just one more can of peaches!
Not for the first time did she wish she hadn't acted so rashly. Throwing Edward Bannister's money back in his face wasn't the smartest thing she'd ever done in her life, though it had seemed a grand idea at the time. Now that Amanda was flat broke, the rebellious act had lost a lot of its appeal.
If she'd kept the money, she could have afforded to buy more peaches. She could also have bought a ticket on a stage instead of having to make the journey to Seattle alone, by horse. If she'd kept the money...
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