Just Her Type

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  Fiercely she stated, “Aaron O’Grady isn’t courting me!”

  Boswell frowned. “He isn’t?” With a curse, he slammed his fist against the wall. “I thought you two were getting hitched. I wanted you to know the truth before you bedded down with the man who killed Cam. Didn’t seem right.”

  “I’m not marrying Aaron.”

  “Look, Mackenzie, I don’t care if you choose O’Grady or that penny-paper hero living with you. Just leave me out of it. I’m not going to get myself hanged for you. You’d make a nice armful of woman, but I ain’t—”

  “You’ve made yourself clear.” She took a deep breath. “Gil Chaffee told me some rustlers had been caught on Connolly’s land.”

  He lowered his eyes. “Don’t know about that.”

  “You don’t?” Her voice strengthened. “Connolly just gave you a bonus out of the blue because he likes you?”

  He squirmed. “I—”

  “Boswell, don’t lie to me. You know I won’t put your name in the paper.” Her voice caught. “I just want to know the truth.”

  Slowly he nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll answer what I can.”

  “All that you can?”

  “What I can.”

  It did not take Mackenzie long to discover Boswell would not—or could not—tell her much more than Gil had. As he opened the door for her, he put a hand on her arm. “Take it easy, Mackenzie. There are whispers of big troubles out on the ranges. This is no game for a woman.”

  “Or for a man either!” she snapped. “After all, what can they do to me worse than they did to Cameron?”

  “Just don’t push …”

  “Who?”

  He shoved past her and stamped along the hallway. His curses echoed behind him.

  Mackenzie hurried past the closed doors, not wanting to meet one of the whores and her customer. She rushed down the stairs and out of the saloon. If anyone called her name, she was unable to hear it past the thick beat of her pulse resonating through her ears.

  Anguish trailed her into the print shop and up the stairs. Her hold on her pain slipped away like an avalanche as she saw the frosted cake with its gaudy decorations. Douglas’s birthday!

  Both Cameron and her father had lied to her. She had had no reason not to believe Cameron that night when he’d said he was going to check on a message at the telegraph office. Instead he had been involved in something he had not shared with her. Then Pa had lied in the wake of Cameron’s funeral. She recalled ranting about how it was impossible that her husband could have killed himself.

  “Who were you trying to protect?” she whispered as she stared at the cake. “Who? Me? Douglas? If you’d been honest, we might be able to protect ourselves. But now …”

  “Why are you out here in the barn?”

  Mackenzie turned at Luke’s question. Patting the pony, she forced the uncomfortable smile she had worn most of the evening. “I thought Douglas deserved a night off from his chores on his birthday.”

  He put a hand against the door, blocking her way back out into the night that was dusted with stars. “So you weren’t trying to run away?”

  “Run away? From what?”

  “From whatever you found out at the saloon this afternoon.”

  “How—?”

  He chuckled, but without humor. “I’m a reporter, remember?” He twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. “Your going into the saloon is big news.”

  She drew away and wrapped her arms around herself. “I guess I should be careful what I say, so I don’t see myself quoted in the Independent.”

  “Mackenzie …” Sorrow lined his shadowed face. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have treated you like a source who means nothing to me.”

  She walked out and stared up at the stars. “There’s another difference between us. All my sources mean something to me. Pa taught me that they must be protected like innocent children, because a trust betrayed can never be earned back again.” She bit her lip. Was she speaking of Luke or Cameron or Pa or all three of them?

  “I’m learning that.” He sighed. “I didn’t realize that this would be one of the lessons I had to learn from you.” Turning her to face him, he whispered, “Can you try to trust me again?”

  “You’ve lied to me no more than anyone else has.” She closed her eyes, swallowing the bitterness she had hidden while watching Douglas open his gift and eat his cake.

  “Who’s lied to you? The Terrible Trio?”

  She laughed tersely. “I expect them to lie to me.”

  He brought her back into his arms. “Who then?” he whispered against her hair.

  Wrapping her arms around his hard body, she leaned her cheek over his heart. “Just hold me, Luke. Hold me all night.”

  “Is that what you really want?” His thumbs tilted her chin up. “To have me hold you all night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just hold you?” His fingers bit into her arms. “Mackenzie, what happened at the saloon?”

  She frowned. “Do you want to jabber or hold me?”

  “I want to make love with you.” Slowly, reluctantly, he released her. “But not tonight.”

  “What?”

  “Tonight you’re coming to me to escape something. You’ve done that before. When you want to lose yourself in pleasure”—he kissed her with deep, slow yearning—“come to me and ask me to hold you all night, and you’ll find that pleasure, sweetheart.”

  In disbelief, she watched him walk away.

  ELEVEN

  Luke smiled when Mackenzie chided Douglas to wet down his cowlick. As she rushed back into the bedroom to get her shawl, not wanting to be late for the end of the term program at school, Luke gave the boy a broad wink and said, “All mothers are the same.”

  “She treats me like a baby.”

  “You are her baby.”

  He snorted. “I’m ten. If she wants a baby, she should have another. I heard Mr. O’Grady say that yesterday.”

  Luke rested his shoulder against the wall. “And what else did O’Grady have to say about your mother?”

  “He thinks she should get married and settle down to raising babies. He thinks doing womanly things would make her happier than running the Bugle.”

  “I’ll bet he does.” When he saw Douglas’s astonishment, Luke knew he must prevent the boy from guessing why O’Grady wanted Mackenzie to stop putting out the newspaper. Then everyone would forget her husband’s unsolved murder.

  “If Ma married him, I could work the roundup instead of doing sissy work like what I do at this newspaper. The boys at school say wrestling with a pile of papers isn’t man’s work like wrestling with a steer.”

  “Is that so?”

  Instantly Douglas was apologetic. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded, Luke.”

  “I know.” He hid his grin as Mackenzie came into the room. Her blue linen dress deepened the color of her eyes. Excitement glowed on her cheeks, tinting them a richer rose. As he admired the curves hidden beneath the demure gown, he longed to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she melted against him.

  When he smiled, the color deepened on her cheeks. He waited for her to speak, but she only urged Douglas to hurry down the narrow stairs. At the bottom, Luke offered his arm. As they followed Douglas toward the brightly lit school, he chuckled.

  “Your son thinks you should settle down with some rich cattleman so he could ride during the annual roundup.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t agree with him.” Mackenzie laughed as she looked at Douglas talking with his best friend.

  “You’re going to rub my nose in my opinions of women’s suffrage again, aren’t you?” His other hand settled over hers and stroked her fingers. When she stopped and looked at him in surprise, he lifted her hand to his lips. With his hair combed and wearing his perfectly tailored wool suit, he did not look like the Luke who worked for her.

  Again he raised her hand to his mouth. The teasing kiss vanished. Heat burned through her cotton gloves to sear
her skin with the fire in his eyes. An iron bar against her back brought her to him. Only slowly did she realize it was his arm around her waist.

  She shook her head as she saw his lips descending toward hers. “Luke, we can’t be late for the exercises.”

  “Can we continue this conversation later?”

  She nodded and kept her hand on his arm as they walked into the crowded schoolhouse. Her neighbors’ stares did not stop until she found a seat on one of the benches. Why shouldn’t she bring Luke with her and Douglas? No one in Bentonville was going to force her into marrying one of the cattlemen.

  When Miss Howland stepped up on the raised platform at the front, Mackenzie smiled. Tonight was for Douglas. She must not let the past—or the future—interfere. As the children recited the poems they had memorized, she applauded with enthusiasm.

  Standing after the twenty students sang a last song, she said, “Luke, I want to ask Miss Howland a question for the article I’m writing about tonight.”

  He brushed her cheek with his fingertips, sending sweet warmth through her. “I’ll wait outside for you. I need some fresh air.”

  “I guess you’re getting used to wide-open spaces.”

  Luke did not have an answer as Mackenzie slipped through the crowd to speak to the teacher. He was getting used to living here. He was getting used to having Mackenzie near, and he wanted to get used to having her in his arms.

  He pushed his way to the door. Was he out of his mind? He was leaving soon. When he had the facts for his story about Cameron McCraven’s murder, Carter would have to give him that promotion. It was what he had come to Wyoming to get.

  With a curse, he walked to the pump at the side of the school. Light splashed from a schoolhouse window, but the door was closed. Pumping some water into his hands, he took a drink. He needed something stronger, but even Stub’s whiskey would not erase thoughts of saying good-bye to Mackenzie.

  A hand settled on his arm. “All set to go, Macken—” He turned. “I didn’t know you were here tonight, Lacey.”

  Doc Langhorne’s daughter smiled. With her hair pinned up beneath a demure bonnet, she wore a cloak, a wrap too hot for the evening. She leaned toward him, her husky voice a blatant invitation. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Well, you did. I spoke to your father a few days ago.”

  Easing around the pump, she ran her fingers up his chest. “It’s so hot, isn’t it?”

  He smiled. “It must be when you’re dressed like that.”

  She took his hand and reached across her throat for the clasp holding the cape in place. It dropped to the ground.

  Luke drew in a deep breath. Only lace covered her curvaceous body. His gaze moved from her generous breasts to her slender waist and then to her legs encased in silk stockings.

  Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she brushed against him. “It’s so hot, Luke,” she whispered. “Help me cool down.”

  With a laugh, he grasped her elbows and pulled her arms away. “Find yourself some other sucker.”

  “Sucker?” She pouted, and he wondered how she hoped to change his mind with that ridiculous expression. “I thought you wanted me.”

  “Why don’t you cozy up with Rutherford? I heard he’s interested, and he can keep you in a fine fashion.”

  “He’s too old!” She scowled. “Besides, I’m not staying here forever.”

  “I’m not your ticket out.” He shoved her cape in her hands.

  Throwing the cloak on the ground, she reached for him again. “I want you.”

  “You want a ticket to Albany.” Again he laughed. “Try being more subtle, Lacey. Men don’t like to be stalked.”

  “You want me to be like Mackenzie? What does the old widow have that I don’t?”

  “Intelligence enough not to come to school undressed?” suggested an emotionless voice behind Lacey.

  Luke swallowed his amusement and smiled at Mackenzie whose honey-brown hair curled enticingly around her taut face. He waited for her next comment.

  “You’d better be careful walking home, Lacey,” was all she said.

  Lacey slipped her arm through Luke’s. “Walk with me?”

  “No thanks.” He picked up her cloak and dropped it over her shoulders. “If you want company, stop at Stub’s. The girls there will be glad to show you what to do, although it appears you know how to be a whore.”

  “Luke,” cautioned Mackenzie.

  “Yes,” seconded Lacey, “listen to your boss. She’s smarter than you.”

  “Just intimidated by this town’s need for your father’s services,” Luke replied, “but Bentonville won’t be held captive to you and your father much longer, Miss Langhorne.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A friend of mine has been looking for a place to set up his practice. I wrote him, and, before fall, Bentonville will have a second doctor.”

  Lacey’s face grew long with horror. “You didn’t! Father—I mean, I—” She spun toward the street. “I’ll see you get what you deserve for this, Luke Bradfield!”

  “As long as it’s not you,” he drawled. He smiled at Mackenzie. “What did I do to deserve that?”

  “I could give you a list,” she said, her voice still strained.

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure you could.” As they walked toward the street, he looked back over his shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  “I thought I saw someone, but it’s just shadows.”

  Mackenzie laughed. “Probably someone heading home after the exercises. You don’t have to worry, Luke. No one saw you turn down Lacey’s offer.”

  “But you.” He caressed her cheek again. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

  “I wasn’t sure you wanted to be rescued.”

  Even in the dim light, his eyes burned like twin flames. “Be sure, sweetheart. I don’t want her.” He paused as Douglas raced past them and up the steps of the print shop.

  “Slow down!” called Mackenzie.

  Luke put his hand on her face and turned it back toward him. “Why should he, when you scurry around like that all the time? I’ll bet you were like him when you were his age.”

  “I was.” She smiled. “I was worse actually. Poking my nose into everything and wanting to know about everything. I think Pa despaired of my ever acting like a girl.”

  “Until he arranged for you to marry?”

  Her smile disappeared. “Yes.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen,” she whispered.

  His finger caressed her cheek. “You were a little girl then. Now you’re a woman, Mackenzie, and it’s my job to remind you of how wondrous you are in a man’s arms, sweetheart.”

  Easily he found her mouth. As he pressed his arm against her back, his lips spiraled along her neck, each touch a spark as bright as the stars overhead.

  With a smile, he put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the outside staircase. She listened to the beat of his heart beneath her ear. She stared at the stairs. She had been a virgin on her wedding night, and Cameron had been the only man she had ever been with.

  “What’s wrong?” Luke whispered. “Suddenly you are as stiff as you were the first moment I saw you in the shop.”

  “I just—I want …”

  Facing her as she stood two steps above him, he raised her fingers to his lips. “Be honest with me tonight.”

  “I want to please you.”

  “You will, for you already do.”

  “It’s just that …”

  “Mackenzie?” At her name, she was caught by his gaze. He kissed her with swift fire. “Don’t think of the past. Tonight isn’t a part of that.”

  “I want to forget the past.”

  “Is that why—?”

  “No. Tonight, I want to make new memories.” She put her fingers to his lips, then curled her hand around his nape. He grasped her by the waist. Instead of climbing the steps to stand beside her, he pulled her against him. Leani
ng forward, she pressed her mouth over his.

  Slowly he took each step, his body brushing against her, the kiss deepening. Slipping her hands beneath his shirt, she stroked the rough silk of his skin.

  “If we don’t go in now,” he murmured, “I shall make love with you here. You’re making me insane, sweetheart.”

  “Then we shall go inside.” She laughed. “I wouldn’t want to be to blame for your odd ways.”

  She took his hand, leading him up the uneven steps. Rain and sunlight had warped them. When they stood in the shadows under the eaves, she reached into her pocket for the key.

  “Stop it!” she ordered as he kissed her neck. “How can I open the door if you keep interrupting me?”

  Whirling her to face him, he whispered, “My love, I’m intrigued with the idea of sneaking in like this. It adds a decidedly illicit air to this tryst.”

  The key clicked. When she held aside the door, he led her inside. He relocked the door before lighting a candle. Watching as she closed the one leading into the other room, he teased, “Are you locking out our chaperone tonight?”

  “Don’t worry about Douglas. He sleeps as heavily as his father. Oh …” She pressed her fingers to her lips.

  His fingertip brought her chin up. “Sweetheart, Cameron is a part of your past. He is what was. I want to be what is.” Taking her hand, he held it over her heart. “There have been others in your heart before me. I ask only that you let me be with you tonight.”

  “I want you in my heart, Luke.” She paused, then asked, “Do you have a place in your heart for me?”

  “You sound scared to ask that.” He undid her bonnet and tossed it aside. As his fingers pulled pins from her loose hair, he whispered, “It’s shocking to think of Mackenzie Smith McCraven being frightened by anything.”

  “The idea of loving you and not being loved in return is horrifying!” When he bent to kiss her, she put her hands around his shoulders. His lips caressed her neck, leaving her moaning with the hunger to touch him.

  “Did that feel like the kiss of a man who loves you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you asking?”