High-Stakes Passion

by Juliet Burns

  John sat at the small kitchen table reading the paper, sipping from a steaming cup. Glancing up, he did a quick double take, but erased his shocked expression immediately. Before Mark asked, John stood and said, “Let’s go into the study.”

  “I’ll have breakfast ready when y’all are done,” Helen said. “And I’ll cut your hair for you after you eat, if you want.” She handed Mark his coffee and winked.

  John entered his study and motioned for Mark to sit. He folded his arms across his chest and sat on a corner of his big, scarred oak desk, but didn’t speak.

  Mark stood for a moment, sipping his coffee, remembering John’s study in the Walsh’s old house back in Fort Worth. As a kid, Mark had always loved going in there with John. This one looked exactly the same.

  He looked around the room, examining the books that filled the shelves on two walls. There were the same red leather chairs with the brass buttons around the edges, the same old-fashioned globe in the brass stand in the corner and the same feeling of refuge and peace.

  It smelled the same, too. Like old leather and furniture polish and a hint of fine cigar.

  On the wall behind the desk was a large framed picture of Mark taken astride a bucking bull. The bull’s back legs kicked up six feet in the air, with a cloud of dust behind it. Mark’s left arm was raised behind him, and his right hand, in a thick leather glove, gripped the rope tied around the bull’s body. He’d worn the same black cowboy hat he carried now, and had his chin tucked into his chest in a look of steely determination.

  He hadn’t seen that picture in a long time. Looking at it made his chest hurt. His rodeo days were over. Could he recapture the grit of that man on the bull? He looked away and sat down.

  John broke the silence. “What’s going on?”

  Mark looked at him and shifted in his chair. “First of all, I owe you an apology for being such an ass these last couple of weeks.” He lowered his gaze to his hat, shifting the brim round and round in front of him. “I can’t believe you put up with my crap for this long.”

  John’s eyes were suspiciously moist when Mark finally looked up. John cleared his throat. “I don’t quit on the people I love. Apology accepted.”

  John had never told Mark he loved him. That was probably the closest he’d ever come to it. But it was enough. Mark had never told John he loved him, either. Come to think of it, he’d never said those words to anyone. Probably never would. “I’ve decided I want to keep the Double M. Will you stay on?”

  John walked over to look out the window as the faint light of dawn crawled over the land. “No more booze? You gonna work the ranch?”

  Fair questions, all things considered. But Mark hated being doubted. “You have my word.”

  John turned and offered his right hand. “Then I’ll stay. Good to have you back.”

  After he left John and Helen’s, Mark parked his truck in the garage and went straight to the stables. He hadn’t ridden Lone Star since the accident. Hadn’t even considered whether he could. What if he fell flat on his face? How the hell had he gotten in this predicament?

  Oh, yeah. Audrey.

  He saddled up Lone Star and led him out of the stable. The stallion was frisky after months of being corralled. Mounting was tricky, but after a few false starts, Mark felt steady enough in the saddle to walk around the paddock.

  His hands trembled and his stomach clenched. God, his leg was so damn weak. And it hurt like hell. But if he wanted Audrey in his bed, he’d have to be the rodeo champion she thought he was. When he imagined making love with her, his need for a beer evaporated like the water in a stock tank in July.

  He gripped the reins tighter and kicked Star to a trot. Soon he was racing across the pastures trying to outrun the demons that had chased him for two decades. He’d missed the wind in his face and the smell of horse. And there was a hint of rain in the air. Was it April now? The bluebonnets would be in bloom. He caught sight of a separated calf and roped him on the third try. Maybe he could do this.

  Is this what the love of a good woman did to a man?

  He checked that thought. Love? Hell, Audrey didn’t love him. She just wanted the Lone Cowboy. His new housekeeper was no saint. She’d gotten what she wanted. He was clean-shaven and sober. Now that he was, he’d persuade her to come to his bed freely—not because of a bet. She’d responded to his kisses, melting and burning all at once. That wasn’t something you could fake.

  The Lone Cowboy would get back in the saddle in more ways than one. He wanted to crush her in his arms, bury himself inside her and take her again and again, until they were both spent. Then wake beside her in the morning and have her again. Just thinking about that was enough to start his blood racing south.

  What was she doing now? He had to see her. He tugged the reins around and galloped Lone Star home.

  It was time to leave. Audrey’s bags were packed and sitting in the foyer. If she left now, she could arrive in Fort Worth in time to have lunch with her dad at the Cattleman’s Club. Then Sunday could be spent writing up her piece for the magazine.

  She was due back at work Monday with story in hand. And she had one. Not an in-depth interview, but a story nonetheless. The story of a man who struggled to walk again after months of surgeries and physical therapy.

  As far as she could tell, Mark had honored their bet. Mark had avoided her all week, denying her the chance to explain about her promotion and the need for a story. But she wasn’t sure she would have had the nerve to confess, anyway.

  The hands had just headed for the fields when Helen walked in. “Good morning, dear.”

  “Good morning.” Audrey reached into the cabinet for two mugs and motioned for Helen to sit. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to say goodbye.” She poured them both some coffee, feeling more lonely than when she’d arrived.

  Helen looked up from her coffee, frowning. “Must you leave today?”

  Audrey stared down into hers. “I should get back. I have another…” She hated lying to Helen. But neither could she admit the truth.

  “Mark stopped by this morning,” Helen saved her from having to choose. “I haven’t seen him out of bed at that time of day in weeks. Not to mention sober.” Helen rushed on, excitement lighting her eyes. “He told John he’s keeping the ranch!”

  Mark wasn’t selling? A spark of hope lit in her heart. He was going to be okay. This ranch was a part of him. He belonged here.

  “Are you sure you couldn’t—”

  “No.” Audrey cut her off and stood to pace across the kitchen, hating to see the joyful expression on Helen’s face disappear. “This was always meant to be a temporary job.”

  Helen stirred her coffee, gazing into her mug. “You know, when you first came here, I had a feeling you were just what this place needed. You don’t know how worried John and I have been. Mark changed so much after the accident. It was like he’d given up on life.”

  Audrey turned and leaned on the counter. “Yes, but why? Rodeo’s a dangerous sport. Dozens of cowboys get injured, some permanently. Yet they remain positive. A few even stay involved in the circuit.”

  Why had Mark started drinking? Was it only the loss of his career? Or was there, as she suspected, something more, something to do with his nightmare and that picture on his armoire.

  Helen frowned. “Mark is quiet, reserved. I always thought his nickname had more to do with his preference for being alone than a play on his name. He never let anyone close. Never let anyone help.” She looked at Audrey with admiration in her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but I know this—he’s back among the living. And I think it has something to do with you.”

  Audrey dropped her gaze to the counter. Shame dug in and clutched at her heart. She’d lied to Helen. And now the dear lady thought she was some sort of saint. But she was a fraud.

  “Oh, dear, has Mark ruined his chance with you?”

  Audrey felt the tears on her cheeks and swiped them away. How on earth could she t
ell this sweet woman the truth? She shook her head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that.” Grabbing the empty mugs from the table, she took them to the sink and turned on the water. “Helen, how long have you known Mark?”

  “Since he was just a kid. His family lived next door to us. Why?”

  “There’s something else you’re not telling me, isn’t there? I mean, I know he can’t ride anymore, and that’s got to be frustrating, but…” Audrey gazed out the window, thinking aloud. “He had product endorsements, the charities and this place. He was probably close to retiring, anyway. And it’s not like he’s in a wheelchair. He doesn’t even use a cane.”

  Audrey turned and Helen lowered her eyes, tracing the tablecloth pattern with her finger.

  “You know, don’t you?” Audrey said quietly.

  When Helen looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “You’ll have to ask Mark.”

  Audrey’s shoulders drooped, weighted with dread. “It was something awful, wasn’t it?”

  “Only Mark can tell you, dear.”

  “Like he’d tell me,” she muttered. She whirled back around to the sink, washing the mugs to distract her from ominous thoughts. Looking up, she glanced out the window and saw one of the ranch hands riding up. She did a swift double take when she got a good look at the man.

  It was Mark on Lone Star!

  “H-he’s riding!” Audrey whispered, clutching the counter for support before her knees gave out.

  Helen stood and came to put her arm around Audrey’s shoulders, flashing a grin. “Miracles do happen. Maybe you shouldn’t give up so easily, dear.”

  Six

  Audrey watched Mark slow his stallion to a walk. God, she loved watching the man ride a horse. The way his hips moved in the saddle and his thigh muscles bunched to control his mount. He halted at the back porch and dismounted slowly, easing his right leg over and down with a grimace, and then tied the reins at the railing.

  When he stepped into the house, her stomach did a little flip. She couldn’t speak.

  Mark scowled. “Hell, I nearly killed myself shaving this morning.” He pointed at himself. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  He looked so different with his clean-shaven jaw and short haircut. He was still a little pale, but determined, strong and sexy as hell in that black Stetson and those tight Wranglers.

  Luckily, Helen filled in the silence. “Well, there’s a proper greeting. Where’d you learn your manners, boy, in a barn?”

  Mark yanked his hat off and turned to Helen. “Sorry. Guess I need some practice in that department.” His serious gaze traveled back to Audrey. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “I was just on my way to the north pasture. Thought I’d get somethin’ to drink. Uh, water, I mean.”

  But he didn’t move.

  Helen pushed away from the table and stood. “I just remembered I’ve got a pie to bake.” She headed for the door, but turned back. “Mark, see if you can convince Audrey to stay a while. She’s planning on leaving today.”

  “Helen!” Audrey glared at Helen. If looks could kill, the foreman’s wife would be in ICU right about now.

  “Leaving?” Mark scowled again.

  Helen grinned and winked at Audrey behind Mark’s back. “Y’all have a good morning. I’ll talk to you later.”

  How could Helen do that to her? What did Audrey do now? What a moron she was, just standing there, staring at him. She wanted to confess, to tell him her real reason for being there, but she couldn’t.

  In two strides he was at her side, his eyes locked on hers. “You’re not going to leave before the party tonight, are you?”

  Hmm. That cologne. It was the same musky scent he’d worn the night he’d rescued her. She couldn’t catch her breath. “The party’s tonight?”

  He leaned closer. “The temporary hands are leavin’.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s right.” And so am I.

  “We need to talk.”

  Talk? Did he know why she was really here? He couldn’t, or he’d have thrown her out.

  “About what?”

  He brought his hand up and caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “Us,” he whispered.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. Us? She imagined for a moment all the possibilities in that word. Mark and Audrey. A couple. Dating. Meeting each other’s families. The fantasy was absurd, but deep inside exhilaration, anticipation thrummed through her body. His hand traveled down her throat. “Jim’s bringing barbecue from town.”

  Audrey raised her face. “That’s…good,” she whispered. Her skin tingled where he touched. Maybe just for tonight…

  He stepped away. “So, I’ll see you tonight.”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she almost pitched forward.

  He’d put his hat on and turned to leave. Then he stopped and turned back. Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her against his length and brought his mouth over hers for a deep kiss.

  Before she could catch her breath, he let her go and left the kitchen.

  He forgot his water, Audrey thought in a daze. But Mark had already mounted his stallion and ridden away.

  Helen came back that afternoon and, to Audrey’s surprise, had two pies with her. She smiled and raised her brows. “So you decided to stay?”

  “Just for the party. I’ll leave in the morning.”

  Helen accepted her answer with a nod. “I knew he could convince you to stay,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Let Helen believe what she would, but Audrey had to discover what Mark wanted to talk about. Maybe she could find the courage to tell him she worked for a magazine, and ask for an interview. She refused to run off like a coward and not finish what she’d started.

  Audrey and Helen made gallons of iced tea, and set up tables in the backyard. Someone set a CD player and speakers on the porch, Jim brought the barbecue and John set a keg of beer out by the pool.

  The party was in full swing when Ruth approached Audrey and handed her a beer. Audrey took a big sip just as Ruth said, “Hey, girl. I heard you and Mark were the only ones left at that poker game the other night. What happened?”

  Ruth slapped her on the back a couple of times as Audrey choked. To Audrey’s horror, Ruth broke into a deep laugh and looked over to where Mark stood. “I don’t blame you for wantin’ to check out his, uh, ‘breeding methods.’ Just remember my warning.”

  Audrey considered the odds of God granting her a favor and making a hole appear to swallow her up. She had to distract the cowgirl—quick. Looking over Ruth’s shoulder, she spied another interesting source of bunkhouse gossip. “So, what’s the deal with you and Dalt? Anything serious?”

  Ruth took a quick look behind her. “With Dalt? Mr. Haven’t-met-a-woman-I-couldn’t-seduce? He’s definitely not into serious. But horses ain’t the only thing he knows how to handle.” Ruth turned knowing eyes on Audrey.

  Dalt sauntered over and pulled Ruth into a two-step. Audrey remembered all the school dances she’d stood around waiting and waiting for some boy to ask her out on the floor. Her throat tightened.

  Her emotions were out of control. Guilt assaulted her conscience. She’d lied to all these nice people. And what did Mark want to talk about? It couldn’t be anything good.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him. Mark held a plastic cup of iced tea, and was talking to Bill Kingston, the owner of the feed store in Quitman. He had one thumb hooked in the pocket of his jeans and his hat pushed back on his head. His blue western shirt matched his eyes, and he was so handsome it hurt. As if he sensed her stare, he turned to look at her.

  Somehow, things were turned around. Tonight, Mark was the upstanding citizen and she was the self-pitying jerk.

  She couldn’t stay in this crowd one more second. She looked away and slowly made her way past the barn and bunkhouse.

  It was a clear night with a waning moon and a blanket of twinkling stars overhead. You didn’t see stars like these in the city, with all the lights and pollution. She became aware of crick
ets chirping and frogs croaking, and the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees. The serenity of the pine trees beckoned her like arms waiting to embrace her troubled soul. Audrey kept walking, losing herself in the beauty of the country.

  She came to a stop at a creek bank. The gurgling of water over stones and the sweet smell of new grass calmed her. Nature had a way of putting things in perspective. She sat and wound her arms around her upraised knees.

  She knew what was really bothering her—she didn’t want to leave. Maybe if she’d finished that beer, she’d have had the guts to tell Mark the truth. What if she told him now and he threw her out in front of everyone at the party?

  Leaves and twigs rustled and a shadow moved from behind a tree to her right as a figure approached. Fear immobilized her.

  “You all alone out here, Audrey?” Pete came closer, stopping only a couple of feet away.

  Too late she realized she’d been an idiot to come out here alone. Hadn’t Ruth warned her? “Uh, well, I was just about to head back. Ruth is waiting for me to, uh…” She put her hand down and started to stand.

  Before she could get fully to her feet, he lurched closer and grabbed her shoulders. “Why’d you come out here? You wanted me to follow, didn’t you?” She struggled to escape his hands, but he slid one arm around her back and pulled her against him with a wiry strength. His foul breath hit her cheek as he dipped his head and planted a sloppy kiss on half her mouth.

  “Pete, no.” She shoved with all her strength, but he didn’t budge. Her heartbeat raced as he growled and swooped down again. This time she barely avoided his mouth.

  “You aren’t serious about saving yourself for that crippled old has-been, are ya?” He spat out the words as he fought to kiss her. “He’s been holed up here for so long he’d screw the first thing that held still long enough.”

  A wave of nausea hit her. Struggling was getting her nowhere. Time for extreme measures. Position the knee, aim for the groin….

  “What are you doin’ out here? Everything all right?”