by Sandra Brown
He looked long and lean and lanky silhouetted against the window. She could remember every wiry inch of his frame and how it felt pressing against her.
She was recalling tilings only a lover would know and her thoughts made her feel hot all over, though she was shivering. If he looked in her direction, she thought she might faint.
"We don't mean to fuss over you, Banner," Lydia said diplomatically. "We just thought an outing—"
"I'll ride across the river today," Banner had interrupted breathlessly. Jake's long fingers were twirling the cheroot near his mouth. He rolled his fingers back and forth, first one way, then another. She looked away quickly as though caught watching an intimate act.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about this morning," Ross had said. "Your mother tells me you want to move to your property and start ranching."
"Yes, Papa, I do."
Ross looked at Lydia, then back at his daughter. He hoped he was doing the right thing. She looked so frail, so distraught. His thoughts turned murderous toward Sheldon. He wouldn't let that sonofabitch ruin his daughter's life. Maybe Lydia was right. Maybe Banner did need this chance to get her life back on track. She was a willful, energetic young woman. She would never tolerate idleness. Already their cosseting irritated her. "All right. You have our permission."
Banner's eyes had filled with tears of gratitude. She had thought she loved Grady above everything else. Now she knew she hadn't loved him nearly as much as she loved this land. Losing it would have been a much greater loss than losing Grady. "Thank you, Papa."
"Jake has consented to be your foreman."
It was at that point that Banner had sprung off the sofa as though something had popped out of the cushions and bitten her. She demanded that Ross repeat what he had just said.
When the hateful words sank in, she whirled toward the man who was still standing silently at the window. He hadn't moved. He could be deaf and blind for all the reaction he showed to what was going on behind him.
Banner faced her parents again. "I don't need a foreman."
"Of course you do," Ross said reasonably. "You can't manage that place alone."
"I can!"
"You can't. Even if you could, I wouldn't let you live over there by yourself."
"It's only a few miles."
"I know how far it is," Ross said, raising his voice a notch. "Now, that's an end to it."
"No, it's not, Papa." Banner matched her volume to his. "That land is mind. You gave it to me. I'll make the decisions."
"The land is yours with this condition."
"That's not fair!"
"Maybe not, but that's the way it is."
"Will the two of you please calm down," Lydia interrupted sternly. "Listen to yourselves."
Banner and Ross subsided, but their identical tempers still simmered on the surface. Banner met Ross's flashing green eyes with a pair just as fiery and a chin just as stubborn.
Acting as placater, Lydia said, "Banner, we thought you'd be pleased. Isn't this what you wanted? You can't be objecting to Jake. You've always loved him and begged him to stay each time he left."
Banner cast a hasty glance toward Jake. He was still gazing out the window, as though he were impervious to their conversation.
"It isn't that I have anything against Jake. Of course that's not the reason." Banner nervously wet her lips and pressed on. "It's just that I don't need anybody watching over me. I'm not a child. Don't you think I'm capable of doing a good job?"
"Your mother and I have every confidence in you," Ross said.
"Then let me ran the ranch the way I want to."
"Jake's not going to go against anything you say," Ross said. "Jake, we haven't heard from you. Do you plan to do anything over there that's not to Banner's liking?"
Jake turned slowly to face the room, but Banner didn't see. Her gaze had dropped quickly to the floor. Only by an act of will did she keep her hands from damply gripping each other in consternation.
"I know what has to be done," Jake said in clipped tones. "So does Banner. I imagine we'll work together fine. But I won't take the job unless she wants me to." He paused significantly. "How about it, Banner?"
She simply couldn't. She couldn't look into those eyes and see his ridicule. But she had no choice. Her parents were watching her, waiting for her answer. Slowly she raised her head and looked at Jake.
His face was implacable. His eyes were cool, neither accusing nor smug. They looked hollow, as empty as she had felt the last two days. She wanted to go on staring, trying to discern the thoughts behind that impenetrable mask, but she was required to speak.
"It's my ranch," she said huskily. "I should be allowed to choose my own foreman."
Jake's lip twitched and his eyes blinked rapidly, once, as though a shooting pain had crossed his face. "Don't you think I'm qualified?"
Suddenly she was furious with him. If he hadn't been so damned obliging to Ross and Lydia, she wouldn't have been placed in this position. His defensive tone only aggravated her further. "Yes. I know you're qualified. But you've been handpicked by my parents to be a mammy to me. I don't need a watchdog!"
"Mammy!" Jake exclaimed, taking several belligerent steps forward until they were almost chin to chin. "You think I'm going to spend my time over there spoon-feeding you? Guess again, young lady. Do you know how hard it is to build corrals, string barbed wire, haul hay? You ask Ross what kind of backbreaking, gut-wrenching work it takes to make a place like this. You don't remember the blood, sweat, and effort he and Lydia put into River Bend, but I do."
Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not a fool, Jake Langston, and I'll ask you not to talk to me as though I were."
"All right, then, so stop suggesting that I'm going to be sitting on my rump entertaining you all day, because that's not how it'll be."
"Entertain... you..." she sputtered.
Ross crossed his ankles, folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the desk. He was enjoying the spectacle. Jake had been responsible for spoiling Banner as much as anybody. It was high time he saw the contrary side of her nature. Rather than her haughtiness changing his mind about accepting the job, Ross thought it would goad him into it.
Lydia quietly took a seat on the sofa and spread her skirt around her feet, looking for all the world as though she were enjoying a matinee in a playhouse. Banner's usual willfulness was manifesting itself. She wasn't the weepy, jilted bride any longer. The reversal delighted her mother.
"I don't expect anybody to entertain me."
"Well, good. Just so that's understood."
"I intend to do my share of the work." Banner swept her hair over her shoulder with an impatient motion of her hand.
"You're damn right you will." Jake punctuated his statement by wagging his finger at the tip of her nose.
She swatted it aside. "So we're agreed on that point. And stop shouting at me."
"I just don't want you to get faint of heart once we get over there."
"I've never been faint of heart in my life."
"Because not only will there be the ranching to take care of," he went on as though she hadn't spoken, "there'll be the everyday chores to take care of, like cooking and pumping water and carrying firewood."
"I'll manage to keep myself fed, Mr. Langs ton, but don't think I'm going to waste time puttering over a hot stove when I could be outside."
"But, Banner, you'll have to cook Jake's meals."
Banner's gaze sought her mother's face. Her, mouth opened, but no words came out. She was too stunned to speak. "But... but won't he eat in the bunkhouse with all the other hands?"
"That would be damned inconvenient," Ross said. "He'll be staying over there with you. We figured he could sleep in that tack room at the back of the barn."
Banner's eyes bounced between her parents in disbelief. At last, she looked at Jake. "You agreed to sleep... to live there?"
The question carried enormous meaning for Banner and Jake. They had almost co
me to terms with working together on the ranch. Their respective jobs would be specialized. There wouldn't be too many occasions for them to get in each other's way. But his staying there each night, sleeping so close to the house, taking his meals with her, was something else again.
"That was part of the job." The words seemed to have a hard time finding their way out of his stiffly held mouth.
Banner turned away. Possibly, possibly, she could have accepted the condition of having him manage her ranch. But to live so close to him, knowing that every time he looked at her he would remember that night? Never.
She looked at Ross and tilted her head to a proud angle. "I don't accept your condition. As I said earlier, I want my independence. I won't be watched over like a child."
"Then this conversation has been a waste of time," Ross said firmly, "because you're not going to live over there by yourself."
Banner smiled the smile that had never failed to coax him out of one more candy stick. "You'll change your mind, Papa."
"Not this time, Banner. If you don't take Jake along with the property, you'll have to do without it for the time being."
She shuddered at his resolute tone of voice. "You don't mean that."
"Yes, he does." Jake spoke with enough quiet emphasis to bring Banner's eyes back to him. "At first I turned down the job. I didn't want it any more than you want me. But he's not going to give you that place at all unless you do it his way." Seconds ticked by while they stared at each other. Banner was the first to look away.
"Mama?"
"I can't argue with Ross's reasoning, Banner. It's for your own good. You'll need Jake's protection."
The irony of that struck Banner as funny, but she dared not laugh. She was afraid that if she started she would never stop. Wasn't she due a spell of hysteria? What a luxury that would be, to scream, to cry, to lose her control. But she couldn't risk giving it free rein or she might never recapture it.
Jake's eyes were blank. What was he thinking? What larked in the depths of his eyes? Pity? Heaven forbid. Was he taking the job out of pity for her? Why? Because she had been made a fool of in front of the whole town or because she had made a fool of herself trying to seduce him? Had she been that amateurish?
Her chin went up another degree. She sure as hell wouldn't accept any largesse from a saddle bum like Jake Langston and bitterly resented his offering it. "I'll think about it and let you know," she said loftily. With her head held high, she sailed from the room.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Jake cursed expansively. "Dammit, I told both of you she wouldn't cotton to the idea. Let's call the whole thing off right now."
Ross chuckled. "She'll come around, Jake. She wants that land too badly. Right now she's just being stubborn. What she needs is a good paddling to teach her some humility. She's spoiled rotten and accustomed to getting her own way. Lydia wasn't strict enough with her.''
"Me!" Lydia faced her husband with both hands on her hips. "You're a fine one to talk, Ross Coleman. You've always been putty in her hands. Besides that she inherited her stubbornness from you, not to mention her temper."
He reached out and grabbed her by the waistband of her skirt, jerking her against his chest. "And her feistiness from you," he growled, searching for her lips with his.
"Ross, stop it. I mean it now. It's almost dinnertime and I have to get—"
He clamped his mouth over hers in a possessive kiss. She struggled no longer than a heartbeat before she locked her arms around his neck and angled her head to deepen the kiss.
"I need to give Stormy a little bit of a workout," Jake mumbled, taking his hat off the hook near the door and slapping it on his head. He slammed the door behind him when he left, but Lydia and Ross didn't notice.
* * *
After everyone had eaten the noon meal together, the Drummonds left for home. Marynell was going with them as far as Austin. Amid the confusion of their leavetaking, goodbyes were said and hugs and kisses exchanged. Banner tried to avoid looking at Jake. She wasn't very successful. But if he was worried about the decision she would make, he didn't show it. He played with his nieces and nephews, talked earnestly to Hector about the price of feed, and teased Marynell about her spinsterhood until she whacked him on the head with a tin measuring cup.
As soon as Banner had waved the company off, she pleaded a headache and retreated to her room. Jake's seeming indifference piqued her, especially since her mind was in turmoil.
If her papa had appointed anybody else but Jake—
The thought brought her whirring mind to a standstill. Who else but Jake? If she could roll back the clock forty-eight hours and erase that hour in the barn from her past, she would be ecstatic that Jake had consented to be her foreman.
As it was, her own guilt made the situation untenable.
What did he see when he looked at her?
Did he see her in a plain white shirtwaist and split navy skirt? Or was she forever imprinted on his mind wearing that sheer nightgown, which had been no deterrent for his knowing caresses?
Did he remember the instant she recovered from the shock of feeling his tongue in her mouth and had actually opened her lips wider to receive it? She would certainly never forget the wet, darting movements of his tongue, nor the slow sensuous ones that penetrated and stroked.
Oh, Lord, she groaned. Did he recall her hands acting of their own accord and grasping handfuls of his hair? And when his body had begun to pump rhythmically into hers, did he remember that she had shamelessly chanted his name like some ritualistic, supplicating prayer?
Of course he remembered. If her recollections were vivid enough to make her heart pound and her body respond as though it were all happening again, weren't Jake's likely to be the same?
She covered her face with her hands. Would she have to sacrifice her dream of having her own ranch because of one night's folly? Wasn't that paying dearly for pride?
She had made a mistake, and the consequences must be met. But she couldn't wear a hair shirt for the rest of her life. Jake was obviously willing to put what had happened behind them and go on with his life. Didn't she have as much courage as he? Would she cower in front of him forever? Damned if she would give him that satisfaction!
She stamped to the window seat and flung herself against its cushions, her face working with emotion. Through the window she could barely see the trail dust of the wagon bearing Anabeth's family and Marynell to the depot in town. Banner had been distracted throughout their visit and hadn't fully enjoyed having them at River Bend. She thought of them wistfully and with affection. They were family, though not kin.
While growing up she had wondered why she didn't have cousins, grandparents. When she first went to school and discovered through other children this lack in her own life, she had asked her parents about it. Where were her grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins? Why didn't she have any—as other children had?
The answers she got were vague and unsatisfactory. When she was old enough to realize that Ross and Lydia were being deliberately evasive, she tactfully stopped asking. They seemed to have no past beyond the day they arrived in Texas. Even the details of their time together on the wagon train were sketchy.
This vacancy in her heritage had always gnawed at Banner. Did Ross and Lydia share a secret? Was that why they often smiled at each other in a way that closed everyone else out? There was a privacy about them that even Lee and she had never been able to violate.
She didn't know why she felt compelled to have her questions answered. But she was driven to discover who her parents were, where they had come from, what quirk of fate had brought them together.
If anyone could provide clues, it was Jake. They would be seeing a great deal of each other. Such daily contact made for familiarity. Perhaps he would open up and talk to her. Inadvertently he might slip her information that would supply the missing pieces of the puzzle. Gaining enlightenment on her parents' past would be worm any price, wouldn't it?
The pl
uses outweighed the minuses. Aside from its being awkward to face Jake day after day, everything pointed to the advantages of having him as her foreman. It wouldn't be easy, but in the last two days she had learned to cope with adversity. And wasn't that lesson long overdue? For the first eighteen years of her life she had been blissfully unaware that the world was anything but rosy and full of love. Innocence couldn't last indefinitely. It was time she became acquainted with the harsh realities of life.
* * *
Banner waited until suppertime to go downstairs, perversely wanting to make Jake sweat over her decision. The kitchen seemed large and empty without the Langstons and the Drummonds. Lee was eating in the bunkhouse. Jake wasn't there, and his whereabouts weren't mentioned. Only Ross and Lydia sat at the table with Banner.
She didn't even broach the subject of the ranch until after the dishes had been carried from the table to the dry sink. Ross, seemingly without anything noteworthy on his mind, was sipping his after-dinner coffee.
"I've decided to move to my ranch as soon as possible," Banner announced abruptly. Ross arched one inquiring brow. Banner swallowed the last of her pride and added, "and to take Jake with me as my foreman."
She didn't miss the satisfied look that passed between her parents, but they didn't gloat. Ross only said, "Good," before taking another nonchalant sip of coffee. "You'll have two studs and five mares to start with. That's one horse more than your mother and I had."
"And a little money for operating capital," Lydia added. She was at the- sink, drying her hands on a cup towel.
Her husband's eyes sliced to her. "Operating capital?" he said.
Lydia met his familiar scowl levelly. It had ceased to intimidate her years ago. "Yes, operating capital."
Ross's mouth thinned beneath his mustache while his green eyes glared. A silent-contest of wills ensued. Finally he was heard to mutter, "And some operating capital," before he again drank from his coffee cup.
"Thank you, Papa. And I'll pay back whatever money you advance me within a year, with interest." Banner stood up, holding herself regally, as though he were the one who had come around and not she. "Please tell Jake that—"