by Sandra Brown
Of course he hadn't mentioned that to Banner. After the honeymoon would have been soon enough. But there hadn't been a honeymoon. All because of the slut who stood before him now, strutting around under one of the parasols he had brought her. She had insisted on a parasol.
Now he addressed the topic she had brought up moments earlier. "I've explained why you can't move into the house in town. It's for sale. I put it on the market when Banner and I became engaged. She wanted to live on her ranch."
Wanda laughed gustily. "I'll never forget the look on her face. That prissy Miss Coleman," she said, imitating a mincing walk, "always sashaying around town with her nose in the air."
As ridiculous as the imitation was, Grady took a perverse delight in it. He had thought for a long time that the Colemans were a bit too sure of themselves and needed to be taken down a peg or two. Especially Ross. Damn the man for making a fool of him at the wedding. How dare he threaten his life! Grady would never forget or forgive that.
"They got theirs the day of the weddin', didn't they, honey?'' Wanda sidled up to him and ran her hand down the front of his trousers. He shoved her away. "All them Colemans will remember the Burnses, won't they, Grady, honey? Them and that tall blond-headed man that poked a gun in your gullet." She giggled when Grady's face went red with indignation. "What'd you say his name was?"
"Langston. Jake Langston." He went to the table and despite the sickening squirrels, tilted the jug standing next to them to his lips and swallowed a long draft of Doggie's burning moonshine.
"Jake Langston," Wanda repeated dreamily. She languidly ran her tongue around her lips, staring at Grady through slitted eyes. "Mmm. He may be a friend of the Colemans, but I'd like a taste of that cowboy."
Doggie lunged toward her and slapped her so hard her head went flying back. "Shut up that sluttish talk. You're a wife now and you'll stop those whoring ways of yours or I'll rearrange that face you take such pride in."
She cowered, dabbing at the blood that trickled from her lip. "I didn't mean nothin', Daddy."
"I'm hungry. Git started on them squirrels. Grady, you're stayin' for supper."
"I can't, I—"
"I said you're stayin'." Doggie spoke softly, but that raspy voice promised more menace that a shout would have. His eyes were beady beneath the bushy brows, and they glowed maniacally. His lips drooled tobacco juice as he smiled maliciously. He thrust the jug toward Grady. "Have another drink while you tell me why Wanda can't go live with you in town."
Grady slumped into the rickety chair, furious and frustrated. "There's a family who wants to buy it. I can't move her in only to move her out if the purchase goes through."
"Don't sell it," Doggie said, wiping his mouth on a gritty fist after swilling from the jug.
"It's not that simple."
Doggie slammed the jug back onto the table into a puddle of sticky, congealing blood left by the squirrels. Wanda had taken the carcasses out on the collapsing front porch to skin. She was slinging their entrails to a pack of mangy hounds that fought viciously over the meat.
Grady swallowed his nausea. There was no way in hell he would live with these scum. He hadn't had a choice but to marry Wanda. The preacher had been there and Doggie's shotgun had been figuratively, if not literally, tickling his spine. He had stalled them about moving her into his house and that excuse was wearing out.
He had to do something before they robbed him of his sanity as well as everything else. He was a desperate man willing to take desperate measures to rid himself of this blight.
* * *
Once her decision was made, Banner acted upon it. The next day, she and Lydia packed everything they could think of that was necessary for setting up a household. The boxes were loaded on a wagon for transport across the river.
"These aren't doing me any good packed away," Banner said, dropping the pile of pillowcases and cup towels she had painstakingly embroidered and stored in her hope chest. "I might just as well put them to use."
"Banner, how do you feel about Grady now?" Lydia asked. "You know he was forced into marrying that Burns girl. That was the talk going around town when Ross rode in yesterday."
Banner sighed and sank onto the floor alongside her mother, where she was packing the lavender-scented linens into a box. She toyed with the decorated hem of a pillowcase. "I don't feel anything, Mama. Isn't that strange? I thought I loved him. I guess I still do in a way. I'm sorry for him for ruining his life. At first I was angry. Now, I just feel an emptiness inside me."
Lydia squeezed her hand. "You're doing the right thing. You're not pining away over something that was none of your fault. I'm proud that you're my daughter."
"Oh, Mama." Banner stared into her mother's face. It was no mystery why Lydia had the love of two men. She wasn't pretty in the classical sense. Her heauty was uniquely her own. Her coloring was flamboyant, her figure provocative. Long before Banner understood why, she had seen cowboys stop their work and stare after her mother when she crossed the yard. If Banner could have chosen, she wouldn't have selected as her mother one of the refined ladies in town who seemed bloodless when compared with Lydia. She would have chosen the one whom she had been blessed with.
She leaned forward and kissed her mother's cheek. "I'm glad you're my mother too. I've always been proud of you."
Lydia sniffed away her mounting emotion. "Before we get sentimental, we'd better get back to work."
They worked diligently throughout the day and into the evening so that by the time Banner climbed the stairs to bed, she was exhausted and weary enough to fall asleep without any haunting memories to keep her awake.
She woke up refreshed and rested early the next morning. Ross and Lydia were already in the kitchen with Lee when she joined them.
"Well, I guess this is our last morning together," Lee said.
"Lee!" Lydia wailed. "Don't make it sound so final."
"Please don't." Ross groaned. "She cried half the night."
"So did you," Lydia retorted. Ross swatted her fanny as she walked past him on a trip to the stove.
"Did you, Papa?" Banner asked, smiling at him.
"You're my princess, aren't you?"
"Always."
Ross winked at her. "Eat your breakfast. I've told everyone to gather in the yard at eight."
An hour later, Banner took one last glance around her room to see if she had left anything vital behind. She had a momentary attack of homesickness, but pushed it down as soon as it formed. It was up to her to make her own home. This is what she wanted. Staunchly she marched down the stairs and out the door.
Ma was seated atop the wagon with the reins in her hands. "You're going with us, Ma?" Banner asked in delight.
"Hmph!" she grunted. "I reckon I have to go and see that things is done right."
"You'll come see me often, won't you?"
"Am I invited?"
"Of course."
Ma smiled. "Then I'll come."
Lydia came bustling out the front door with a basket on her arm. "I brought along some sandwiches." She joined Ma on the wagon seat.
Ross, Lee, and Jake rode into the yard. Trailing them were three of River Bend's hands. Ross introduced the cowboys to Jake.
"Peter, Jim, and Randy. Good men. I picked them out for you myself. Boys, your new foreman, Jake Langston. I'm sure you know him."
The three men nodded and Jake said laconically, "Glad to have you."
Last night Ross had given him the names of the men who would be working with him. Jake had privately sought out Micah. "What do you know about them?"
"Pete's the older guy with the gray hair. He doesn't say much. Good worker though, tough as nails. Wouldn't want to get on his bad side, but I've never seen him lose his temper.
"Jim is the one with the scar on his face. He said backlashing barbed wire nearly took half his mouth off. Reckon that's so, but I've heard others say it ain't. They say he got that scar in a knife fight with a half-breed Comanche. Ugly cuss, but friendly eno
ugh. Best roper I've ever seen.
"Randy only came here a few months ago, but he ain't given anybody problems. Likes whiskey but saves his drinking for Saturday nights when he gets skunk drunk. Cheats at poker, but only laughs when he gets caught. And, uh, Jake, I'd keep an eye on him around Banner."
Jake had listened to the recital without comment. At that comment, though, he'd turned his head slightly, his blond brows scowling. "Why's that?"
"They say the name Randy fits him."
Jake pondered that for a minute. "What do you say?" Jake could tell Micah didn't want to disparage the cowboy whom he considered a friend, but he didn't relent. "Well?"
Micah gnawed on his bottom lip. "I'd say they're probably right," he replied reluctantly. "He's popular around town. Smilin' all the time. Ain't ever had a problem gettin' a woman, know what I mean?"
"Yeah, Jake had said, slowly coming to his feet and tossing aside the straw he'd been chewing. "I know what you mean."
Now Jake eyed the men from beneath the wide brim of his black hat, deciding they looked like good cowboys. As long as they worked during the week, he didn't care if they got drunk on Saturdays or in knife fights with half-breeds. But they damn sure better stay away from Banner.
"Are we all ready to go?" Ross called out. When everybody chorused "Yes," he nudged his mount toward the gate.
Lee followed. Ma clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and flicked the reins over the horses pulling the wagon. Banner walked toward Dusty. The spirited gelding was tied to the hitching post at the porch.
Jake hadn't looked directly at her yet, though he had been aware of her. Now that her back was turned, he treated himself. Her hair reflected the morning sun like a dark mirror before she covered it with her flat-brimmed hat. Her shirt was a startling white contrast to the black split skirt she wore. It was belted with black leather trimmed with silver. Ross had brought her that belt from Mexico when he made a trip down there several years ago to buy horses. Jake remembered her proudly showing it to him on one of his trips to River Bend.
It hugged her waist tightly. That cinched waist emphasized the feminine curve of her hips. The culotte fit snugly across her derriere before it flared out and fell just below the knees. The black leather riding boots were smooth and supple and clung to the muscles of her calves, defining their shape.
He watched as she placed her left foot in the stirrup and reached up for the pommel of her saddle. The raised knee only served to display her rounded bottom as it pulled the fabric of her skirt tight. She swung into the saddle and positioned herself as she had been taught to almost before she could walk. That impeccable posture was partly responsible for the heart-stopping, mouth-drying, palm-moistening, loin-teasing display of her breasts. But not solely. They didn't need much help. Jake knew they were high and round and...
"Dammit," he muttered, and jerked on Stormy's reins to turn him around. Stormy came nose to nose with Randy's mount. The cowboy was leaning forward in his saddle. His glazed eyes were trained on Banner, just as Jake's had been only moments before.
"What are you gawking at?" Jake's question carried with it a threat that the answer had better be to his liking.
"N-nothing. Nothing, Jake, sir."
"Then get goin'. It'll take all three of you to drive those horses across the bridge."
Randy tipped his hat and spurred his horse to catch the others. Banner pulled Dusty up beside Jake. "Randy looks like the devil's got ahold of his horse's tail. What's the matter with him?"
"Don't you have anything else to wear?" Jake asked crossly.
She looked at him in bewilderment. "What?"
"Wear, you know, clothes, the things you dress in," he said impatiently. She glanced down at herself in perplexity, having no idea what he was talking about. He wasn't sure he knew himself and that made him even madder. "Oh, hell, never mind. Just get one thing straight right now, Banner. I don't want any trouble brewing among these men. There will be enough for me to worry about without having to break up fistfights. Stay away from them."
Her eyes flashed angrily. "The only person I'm going to concentrate on staying away from is you." With a nudge of her knees, Dusty vaulted away. His hooves thundered over the pebbles in the lane, but rather than riding through the gate, Banner jumped the fence.
"Spoiled brat," Jake said, clamping a cheroot between his teeth. Then, grim-lipped and frowning, he spurred Stormy forward to join the caravan.
* * *
"Reckon that's everything," Ma said. She folded the cup towel and carefully laid it on the drainboard.
Jake's eyes roved around the kitchen. "Everything looks nice. I know Banner appreciates you helping her to get unpacked."
"I started supper," she said, cocking her head toward the shiny black iron stove in the corner.
"Smells good."
Ma eyed her eldest shrewdly. He hadn't really seen her handiwork in the kitchen any more than he had smelled the beans and ham hock cooking. He had something on his mind. She could always tell when something was bothering Jake. He withdrew deep into himself and, as though that caused him to itch, he fidgeted, as he was doing now with his glove.
Even when he was a little boy, he would lurk around her until he got her attention. After that it usually didn't take much prodding on her part to get him to say what was bothering him. Most often it was a confession of some small sin that he was just dying to make.
She remembered one occasion distinctly. He had returned from his second trail drive to Kansas and come home for a visit. After supper, he had lingered at the table. She had picked up the hint and invented reasons for everyone else to leave the room until she and Jake were alone.
She inquired about his life as a cowboy. His answers were desultory, finally she asked bluntly, "Have you done somethin' you ought to be ashamed of?"
His eyes had met hers then and she realized that her Bubba was no longer a boy. He was a man and carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I've done something that was necessary, Ma."
She had gathered him against her bosom and he had cried like a baby. She had never asked what what "necessary" something was because she thought she was better off not knowing. But she mourned for the boy who had grown into a man and whose growing process had been so painful.
He had that same look about him now. A bleak, hopeless look that meant he wanted to tell her something he couldn't quite bring himself to talk about.
Of course she had always known he loved Lydia Coleman. She suffered with him for that too. She suspected that Lydia also knew. They had shared secrets and innermost thoughts with each other for years, but that was one subject that was never broached. It was as though they were afraid if they ever spoke of it aloud, things would never be the same between them. And they were right.
Jake lifted his eyes from the glove he had been fiddling with. Ma had poured him a cup of coffee. It sat cooling near his hand, untasted. "You haven't said anything about me staying on here."
Ma sat down in the chair across from him. "You haven't asked me."
"I'm asking now."
She drew a deep breath that expanded her massive chest even more. "I'm glad you're settlin' down somewhere. I didn't like goin' to bed every night wonderin' where you were. It's selfish I reckon, but I'd like to have each and every one of you gathered around me all the time."
He smiled sadly. "You've had to give up so many of us."
She wiggled her nose dismissively. "Lots of women have buried their husband and children. I ain't no different."
He had tossed the glove aside and had taken up twirling the coffee mug round and round in an endless pattern. Ma knew he wasn't finished talking yet. Whatever was pricking his conscience was still there.
"Do you think it'll work out, me and Banner working here together?"
Ma's mind snapped closed around his words like a steel trap on a baited animal. Banner. Banner? Could it be? She watched Jake closely without his knowing. He was squirming in his chair like there were ants in
his britches; his fingers moved restlessly around the cup as though it were hot. He showed all the symptoms. Yep, that was it. Something having to do with Banner.
The girl was a lot like her mother. Attractive in a lusty sort of way men couldn't ignore. But Jake and Banner? That would take some getting used to. Their age difference alone... seventeen, no, eighteen years. He'd always treated her like a kid sister. Still, stranger things had happened.
"I reckon it will," Ma said offhandedly. "She'll be a handful, make no mistake." She hauled herself up to stir the beans bubbling on the stove. "That gal's been spoiled all her life by everybody at River Bend, includin' me. She's had a disappointment, the first big one in her life. I didn't cotton much to that Sheldon feller. If you ask me, this is the best thing that could have happened to her. She had to learn sometime that life ain't gonna cater to Miss Banner Coleman's every wish. That might sound mean, but you know I love that young'un like she was my own.
"Still, I know she's stubborn and headstrong. She's like a keg of dynamite ready to be set off. And the man who does that will either regret for the rest of his days that he sparked that fuse, or be damned glad. That'll depend on the man."
She saw his Adam's apple take a plunge before working itself back up to its rightful position. It was Banner, all right. Ma turned her back and salted the beans.
"How do you know it'll be a man that, uh, sets her off?"
Ma laughed. " 'Cause she's her mama's daughter, that's why. And her papa's. And she's grows ou feeling that heat between the two of them. The ways of men and women ain't foreign to her. You know what I think?"
"What?" Jake asked in a voice that sounded like it didn't belong to him.
"I don't think she was itchin' to many that Grady Sheldon as much as she was itchin' to marry. No 'ifs,' 'ands,' or 'buts' about it."
"I don't know anything about that." Jake stood up suddenly and carried his coffee cup to the sink, pumping water over it and rinsing it out. He glanced out the window. Banner was bidding her family goodbye. Lee bent down and kissed her cheek. She slapped him lightly. He socked her in the stomach. They laughed together. Ross and Lydia, their arms linked around each other's waists, smiled on lovingly.