Rustler's Heart

by Amanda McIntyre

  “Hank’s sister? The snooty one who wanted you to go to Europe? The one we all thought you were going to marry?”

  “One in the same. Hank brought her. She wanted to see me.”

  Wyatt raised his dark brows. “Is she still pretty?”

  “Yeah, and just as snooty. Guess maybe I didn’t see that before.”

  Wyatt chuckled. “You had your head in the clouds, maybe up your butt, as I recall. You were oblivious to damn near everything except her. I always got the impression that she put herself a bit higher than the rest of us. Strange, Hank’s never acted that way.”

  Rein nodded. “That’s just it. I think it’s all an act. The woman doesn’t seem to be comfortable unless she’s tearing down someone else. I think I might have dodged a bullet on that one.” Rein gave his brother a guilty look. “I left her down there with Dalton.”

  “Oh shit. You didn’t.” Wyatt face broke into a wide smile. “I don’t know which I’d find more interesting to watch, Dal with Miss Caroline, or you trying to appease Liberty’s anger.”

  “Angry, you think she’s angry?” God help him if there was a lick of truth to what Caroline said.

  Wyatt offered him an ornery grin. “You may want to make sure she’s put away the knife from cutting cucumbers, before you speak to her.”

  Chapter Five

  Glad for a few moments to collect herself, Liberty hadn’t anticipated how hearing a complete stranger pronounce such vicious judgments about her would cut so deeply. Added to the fact her comments had garnered the stares of several guests nearby as well. Thankfully, she snuck out the back door, and hurried to the main house without encountering any guests. It infuriated her that her thoughts about the gorgeous woman fawning all over Rein were just as distasteful.

  The woman was a fake from her clothing, to her laugh, appearing to be better than everyone around her. Mostly, it killed her to think she would be the type to capture Rein’s attention. Little Miss Perfect—too perfect, to Liberty’s way of thinking. The kind of woman that only has to “want” something and it’s given to her on a silver platter. And it appeared she wanted Rein. Her thoughtless manner, her hurtful words, had bruised her ego, but far worse, far more devastating a blow was Rein’s toss-away response—

  “She’s a good kid.”

  She leaned her head on the back of the couch and released a sigh. What kind of futile game was she playing here? Did she really think that someone like Rein Mackenzie could be the least bit interested in her? They were polar opposite—he the proverbial representation of all things good and right, while she came from a life in Sin City and had a seriously blurred definition of what constituted as good.

  She heard the front door open and assumed Wyatt had returned to pick up something more for Aimee’s nausea. She’d been happy to help him earlier. Glad he’d trusted her. At least she had that. A swelling of pride bubbled inside her. He was a good man, and so too, Dalton. Which gave her hope that she too, would find her purpose—if not here, then somewhere. With her family’s support, she could overcome most anything.

  “The ginger should help the nausea,” she called out as she padded barefoot to the front door to meet him. To her surprise, Rein emerged from the foyer. She came to an abrupt stop. The minimal light made it difficult to capture his expression. He was the last person she expected to see. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Wyatt said you were here.” He reached up, unfastened his top button and loosened his bolero tie. Unaffected apparently by her icy stare, he sidestepped her and sat down on one of the couches. Releasing a deep sigh, he leaned back and closed his eyes. She had no interest in being alone with him, which of course, was a complete lie. Under different circumstances, she’d have liked nothing better. But things weren’t that way between them, and the sooner she accepted that, the less frustrated she’d be. “Wedding too much for you?” She bent down to pick up her shoes that she’d left near where he chose to park himself. Their gazes clashed as she straightened to leave.

  “It got a little warm down there. Thought I’d come up and check on the house.” He leaned forward, cleared his throat and clasped his hands over his knees.

  “Well, I’m leaving anyway. I was just on my way down to see if Betty needs my help.” Her shoes dangled in one hand. She turned on her heel to leave and felt his hand on her arm.

  “Stay.” He looked up at her. “I—uh, wanted to talk to you.” His expression slid into a half-embarrassed grimace. “You’re not carrying any knives, are you?”

  Liberty eyed him. Was he serious? Did he actually believe the crap that Caroline dished out about her? That alone fascinated her, despite the fact that she felt another of his fatherly lectures coming on. She stood her ground, albeit reluctantly. “What have I done wrong now, Dad?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

  “Then maybe you should stop treating me like I’m twelve.”

  He dropped his hold on her arm and brushed his hand through his light brown hair, causing it to stand on end. It was a rare thing to see him without his Stetson. It gave him a less intimidating appearance, until he looked at you, like now, with those piercing blue eyes with green flecks that appeared turbulent when he was riled.

  “Look, will you please have a seat. What I have to say won’t take up too much of your time.”

  Stealing herself against more of his criticism, she sat on the couch across from him and propped her feet on the coffee table. Her feet and calves were sore from walking in the god-forsaken heels. Sure, they looked great on stage, but they weren’t designed for traipsing around the great outdoors. “Listen, can we just get on with this? Is it the dress, which is your sister-in-law’s by the way. Am I wearing my hair wrong? Is my lipstick inappropriate?” Tired both physically and emotionally, she didn’t feel like playing nice.

  She leaned forward to rub her calves and noted how his eyes dropped to the front of her dress. He coughed and averted his gaze.

  “I wanted to apologize.”

  All the things she’d mentally prepared to sling back at him slid out of her brain. “Pardon? I’m not sure I heard you clearly. Could you hit me with that one more time?” Frustration punctuated his audible sigh. Good. He should feel what it’s like. Earlier she might have tossed a shoe at his head, but she wasn’t yet ruling out the possibility.

  He cleared his throat. “I said I wanted to apologize.”

  There were so many options available. “For which time, exactly?”

  “Betty mentioned you were upset. I think maybe you might have overheard my friend.” His gaze held hers. She wasn’t about to let him off so easy.

  “You’re the one apologizing for what your friend said?” When he didn’t respond right away, she continued. “Or maybe it’s because you happen to agree with her?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  Liberty threw her shoe at him. He quickly deflected it with his arm. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. Nothing around here is any of my business. You’ve made that perfectly clear. Got it.” She stood to leave. Enough of this cockamamie bull crap. She needed a drink.

  “Sit down.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to pull that on me?”

  He stepped over the table and stood toe-to-toe, challenging her. The air between them crackled While visions of falling on the couch in the throes of passion crossed her mind he didn’t make a move. Instead, his somber gaze held hers, perhaps in an attempt to intimidate. What he didn’t know is that she’d grown up around men who reveled in the art of intimidation. It no longer scared her, and in fact it served as more of a challenge. With Rein, she had a feeling they’d both win. From what she’d come to know about him, he had an underlying passion that drove him as much as what drove her to survive. The melding of the two would be hot, explosive, but not, she surmised, without its destructive properties.

  “I just want to talk.” The muscle beneath his firm jaw twitched under the strain.

  “Pity.” She held his gaze a moment lo
nger and sat down. “Happy?” He might act uninterested, but she felt the tension between them. “Aren’t you going to sit down?” She realized suddenly that it wasn’t her—she’d managed to get along with everyone in the family and most of the townspeople she’d met this week. Yet, Rein remained stubbornly aloof and judgmental around her. Now she wanted to know why.

  He braced his hands on his hips and looked at the floor.

  “You said you came here to apologize for something?”

  “Look I came to apologize for what you might have heard Caroline say.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. Suddenly he had a conscience. “Might have? Anyone in a five-foot radius heard her. Lucky for me I got to hear it firsthand. Have a seat, Mackenzie. Let me tell you something you might not realize about me.”

  The cushions gave as he sat down beside her. His nearness sparked forbidden images of being alone in the dark room, of him easing her back on the couch, his hand sliding beneath the hem of her dress….

  She slapped away that thought and inched away from him. “Your friend didn’t say anything that I haven’t heard before.” She offered a short laugh. “I’ve come to learn that people are critical, maybe even afraid of things, sometimes even people who are different than they are.” She eyed him, and his head bent as he listened. “And if I were to guess, I’d say you have the same problem. You just won’t admit it.”

  “Please. I don’t have that problem, for your information.” He glanced at her and looked away, but not before she saw in his eyes that she’d pegged him.

  She sat forward to get his attention. “Right. That’s why you’ve been on my back like some obsessed guidance counselor since I arrived.”

  He tossed her a disbelieving look. “That’s bull.”

  “And what’s more, I suspect that’s partly the reason you and Caroline aren’t together.”

  “What the hell does she have to do with this?”

  “That’s a good question, actually, but not one that I can answer.”

  “Look, I don’t know where you’re going with this.” He straightened his shoulders and casually dropped his arm over the back of the couch, pretending her words didn’t apply to him. Her experience with dancing had taught her to decipher body language. Right now, Rein’s screamed defensiveness.

  “I guess that makes two of us.” She crossed her arms and waited for his response. His gaze met hers and it appeared he had something to say; instead, it came out as a frustrated sigh. Liberty took advantage of his state. She tipped her head, and regarded him. “Why do you feel the need to apologize to me for some idiotic remark made by your ex-girlfriend?”

  She could almost hear the gears working as he mulled that one over. He stood then, and walked to the old rocking chair that sat near the fireplace. Though late spring Dalton had built a fire earlier in the day, when Aimee stated that the smell calmed her morning sickness. Sadie, the Kinnison’s loyal retriever, peered up at him from her doggie bed, her tail thumped soft against the wood floor.

  “So, are you avoiding the question, Rein? Or just me?”

  “No…maybe. This has been a crazy week. Everyone’s been running around all over the place, trying to get things done for the wedding. Meantime, I’ve been trying to keep the cabin project on schedule, appease Wyatt’s concerns about Aimee and the baby.” His soft sigh wafted over her heart.

  “Not to mention having to prepare for unexpected guests.” She referred not only to herself, but to Caroline as well.

  He eyed her. “Yeah. That, too.”

  She waited a moment, debating how best to respond. Maybe she could offer him a little slack. “I guess everyone is tired.”

  “Yeah.” Mundane as was his answer, it served to deflect some of the tension between them. Soft music from the reception drifted through the open door of the deck. He looked at her, his face somber. “She had no right to say those things about you.”

  Liberty raised a brow, touched he would defend her against the woman’s rude comments, yet surprised that he didn’t realize how his remark had sounded. “While I appreciate your apparent concern, it wasn’t what she said that bothered me nearly as much as your response.”

  He looked at her, brows pressed together in a frown and shook his head. He didn’t remember.

  “I believe your exact words were, “she’s a good kid.”

  “The truth is, I didn’t want to make a scene. It was no more than an offhanded remark to get her to stop talking. I had no idea it would matter to you, anyway.”

  “You’re right. It shouldn’t, but it does.” Liberty considered the consequences of her next actions. But curiosity about this strange tug and pull between them caused her to stand before him. “Maybe it’s because I’m determined to prove to you that I’m not a kid. Can you tell me that you haven’t noticed?”

  He shot her a brief look, but didn’t refute it.

  She leaned down and braced her hands on the chair arms, forcing him to look at her. “Or are you too busy trying to find ways not to notice?”

  “Liberty…” His mesmerizing eyes held hers. “I don’t think you know what you're doing."

  "You mean if I'm going to climb into the saddle, I better be ready for the ride?" She smiled. "Oh, I’m ready, Rein. You’re the one having second thoughts. Are you afraid things are not yet over between you and Caroline?”

  A brief laugh escaped him. “Doubtful. I don’t think I’m well-traveled enough for her.”

  “Then Rein, what’s your problem?”

  He drew in a breath and she could see him battling the attraction simmering between them. It was all she could do to keep from straddling his lap and dominating his sexy mouth. Lord, she wanted to do wicked, sweaty things with him. His gaze dropped lower to the gap in her dress. She wore no bra.

  “See something you like?” A simple side zipper was the only barrier between them and utter bliss.

  He catapulted from the chair and in an instant had her by the shoulders, lifting her off the floor as he captured her mouth in a fiery kiss. She clamped her arms around his neck, responding to him, meeting his hungry mouth. He grabbed her butt, and a visceral heat slammed into her. She wound her legs around him, sensing his aroused state. His tongue slipped between her lips, turning her bones to ash as their tongues mated in a maddening rush. She gripped fistfuls of his hair, holding his mouth to hers. Then, just as quickly, he released his hold.

  “Jesus,” he mumbled, drawing in a ragged breath.

  She moaned inwardly as she slid down his body. He blinked a few times and took a step back, rubbing his forehead as though berating his actions.

  Her skin burned, her emotions still caught up in a lusty whirlwind.

  “You ought not to play these games, Liberty. Not with me.”

  “Is that what you think?” She countered with angry humiliation. “That I’m being a tease?” Hadn’t he been the one to kiss her like there was no tomorrow?

  “I think you’re used to having men focused on you. When one comes along that isn’t. I’m not sure you know how to handle it.”

  “Meaning you, of course? You’re telling me that you’re not interested.”

  “Maybe I called your bluff.”

  She slapped him. Hard. “Now would be a good time for you to leave.” Her palm stung, not as bad as his cheek from the way he nursed it. Damn fool, cowboy. Hell, maybe she was the fool. She turned away and swiped an errant tear from her cheek.

  He didn’t leave. “Listen, Liberty.”

  She turned her gaze to him. “No. You listen. Stay away. Do you hear? Don’t even speak to me.” She raised her finger when he opened his mouth. “Don’t! I wanted to think that you were different than other men. But you’re right. Clearly, as far as you’re concerned, I don’t belong here. And as soon as I can manage, I intend to put an end to your having to tolerate me.”

  “Liberty, I said nothing about being here….”

  “For the record, I didn’t want to come here. If I’d had somewhere else to go, I would�
��ve.” She gave a caustic laugh. “My mother always spoke so highly of my brothers and about this place. She spoke about Jed as a good man and said that if ever I needed help, that Wyatt and Dalton were good people because Jed had raised them.” She wanted to cry, wanted to hit something. But she stood her ground, fists clenched at her sides. He would not see her cry. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Maybe your life was different. Maybe you had a perfect family. But I mine wasn’t, not by a long shot. So before you cast judgments on me, because of my age or how I choose to dress or even my profession—start first with the decency of getting to know me as a person.”

  “I didn’t come here to pass judgment.”

  “Right, you’ve said all you needed to say. Now, please just go.”

  She heard his footsteps cross the floor. “And crappy-ass kiss, by the way,” she called after him. Total goddamn lie. Her body still tingled, but the anger rolling inside her made it easier to shove the desire away. The front door opened and closed. With her pride and her heart brutally bruised, she collapsed on the couch and buried her face in a pillow to muffle her uncontrolled tears.

  ***

  She thought he’d come from a perfect family? No question the little scene between him and Liberty made for several nights of restless sleep. He’d granted her wish not to speak to her, which made encounters a bit awkward, particularly in front of family members. But no one asked questions, thankfully, and their eyes met—well, he better understood the term, “If looks could kill.”

  Rein sat in a camp chair, in the middle of the skeletal cabin structure he’d been working on, staring out at the mountains on the horizon, contemplating the time he’d gone hunting with Jed and came face-to-face with a young grizzly bear. Knocked to the ground, the animal’s great paw had slammed across his shoulder blade, leaving behind a searing pain. Fortunately, the heavy coat he’d worn lessened the depth of the slash. As instructed by Jed, he’d covered his head and prayed his uncle would find him before the bear finished him. Somehow, it seemed that maybe this moment had been justified. How could someone come this close to dying—twice? What seemed like an eternity was but seconds when he heard the crack of a rifle and the weight of the bear lifted off him. Later, Michael Greyfeather would call him brave, and tell him because he’d faced his fear, that he and the bear were brothers. After the place on Rein’s shoulder healed, Michael took him to have the bear claw inked on his shoulder, reminding him of his courage and its importance to those around him.