Jonas pounded his fist on the table, making the silver rattle. "Damnation, woman! It's no wonder you're still a spinster. No man would put up with that mouth of yours!"
Nora colored deeply and drew her lips into a thin straight line. "Fine. If that's how you feel, I'll be packed and gone by—"
"Nora..." Jonas's chair scraped against the tiled kitchen floor and he stopped her with one hand.
She flashed a furious, wounded look at him.
"I didn't mean that," he told her with a sigh. "Forgive me. It's been a trying day and I'm afraid I took it out on you. You know how much I appreciate your coming here. I don't know what I would have done this past year without you." His black eyes appealed to her. "I don't want you to go. I'm sorry."
Silent, Nora stared at the floor. She'd never heard Jonas apologize to anyone before and the gesture softened her anger. "You're right, you know. I'm twenty-four years old. I am a spinster. And sometimes my mouth goes on ahead of my brain."
Jonas shook his head. "You've got more between those ears than any other woman I know. Elda, God rest her soul, had half your brains and none of your looks. Any man would be lucky to have you."
She forced a smile. "I have the children I teach. That's enough. I'll be going out to see Tad and Libby tomorrow, by the way."
Jonas stiffened at the mention of the Honeycutts. He turned away and sat down to his food again. "Give Elizabeth my best."
"I will." This time Nora let his curious unease pass, determined not to stir the waters again. Jonas hadn't yet explained who the stranger was, nor why he'd gotten so angry about him. It was probably just as Jonas had said; he was overworked. Still, that man's presence had made her uncomfortable. She decided to keep her eyes open to be sure he didn't come back.
* * *
Only death could account for the cold that penetrated him like fingers of ice, Chase decided foggily; as his eyes opened to utter darkness. He must be dead.
Why else would he be sucking in dirt with every breath?
A low moan issued involuntarily from somewhere deep in his chest when he lifted his head and turned his cheek slightly to one side. He pressed his lips shut and tried to swallow. His mouth felt like a dried-out tumbleweed and his throat flat-out refused to cooperate. But he was much relieved to find himself on top of the soil, instead of underneath it. He suddenly craved a long, slow pull of forty-rod whiskey....
A puff of warm, moist air whuffed oddly against the fingers of his outstretched right hand. That strange sensation was accompanied by a demonic kind of snort close to his ear. Unnerved by the sound, Chase cautiously turned his head and chanced a look up. He could see nothing of the beast save a pair of Satanic-looking wide-spread eyes glinting in the darkness. But he could tell the creature was large... huge... the color of night.
Pain seared into his shoulder and side like a hot poker, repaying him for his sudden movement. Chase let his eyes shut again, allowing the blackness to obliterate the horrific vision.
Damn. He'd died and gone to hell.
* * *
The wheels on her buckboard spun over the rocky soil in a whooshing, rhythmic tempo as Libby urged the team down the two-mile rain-rutted lane to Three Peaks, concentrating on their clackety-clack sounds that broke the stillness. It was early. The morning sky still boasted the dusky rose blush of sunrise. In the endless pastures surrounding Harper's hacienda, cattle still lazed in the long tufts of grass and blue-green chamisa where they'd spent the night.
Libby had no worry about the decorum of the hour. She knew Jonas would be up, tending to business by the time she arrived. And once he learned her purpose in coming, she doubted he'd be offended by her visit.
She flicked the reins over the mare's back and swept a hand over the fine clair de lune-colored muslin gown, tugging at the lace-trimmed neckline. It felt strange to be corsetted and flounced. Uncomfortable, in fact. The last time she'd worn a dress, it had been her black widow's weeds for Malachi's funeral. But widow's weeds seemed somehow inappropriate today, considering her intent.
Tiny mother-of-pearl buttons marched up the front of her bodice and along the outsides of her sleeves from elbow to wrist. They seemed to be choking her. It was more likely resolve that was caught in her throat, she decided, but she'd made up her mind and there was no changing it now.
She was nearly to the house when she saw Nora standing in the lane, waving to her. Libby took a deep, fortifying breath and returned the gesture.
"What a wonderful surprise! Jonas didn't tell me you were coming to call this morning." Nora ran up to greet her.
Libby pulled the mare to a stop, wrapped the reins around the brake handle and climbed out of the buckboard, holding her skirts out of the way with one hand. "Jonas didn't know I was coming by. In fact, I didn't even know it until last night. I hope it's not an inconvenient time."
"Oh, heavens! We're up with the chickens around here," Nora said, waving off Libby's worries. "But I was going to come to your place today myself, for Tad's lessons. Just yesterday, I received that new McGuffey Reader I told Tad about. I was getting ready to come when I saw your buggy burning a path down the lane. Look at you," she said, eyeing Libby's dress. "You look just wonderful, Libby. I can't remember the last time I saw you in such a pretty gown."
In any gown, Libby thought, tugging at the neckline again. She knew that, coming from Nora, the comment wasn't meant as a criticism, so she didn't take it that way. Pressing her cheek to Nora's, she gave her a warm hug and an extra squeeze for courage.
Nora pulled back and looked squarely at Libby. Her clear brown eyes reflected her concern. "Is anything wrong, dear? You're not ill, are you? You look a bit pale."
Nora's concern made it difficult for Libby to keep tears from forming in her eyes, but she blinked them back ruthlessly and managed a wan smile. "I'm perfectly fine. Nothing's wrong, Nora. I've just come to my senses, that's all."
Nora's eyebrows took a dip. "Come to your senses? Are you sure you're well? I have a pot of sage tea brewing. Won't you come in and have a cup with me?"
Tea sounded wonderful and Libby was tempted to accept the opportunity to delay. But she couldn't. "I... I'd love to Nora. But I really came to talk to Jonas. Is he... home?"
"He's still inside, finishing his morning coffee. He's just about to head out to the range to finish the branding with the men. He's been so out of sorts lately. I'm sure your coming will cheer him up. C'mon, I'll take you to him." Nora gestured to a sun-browned cowhand who was on his way to the barn. "Missouri, see that Mrs. Honeycutt's horses get watered."
The bowlegged man nodded and shifted the wad of tobacco around in his mouth. "You want me to unhitch 'em, too?"
"No," Libby answered, too quickly. "I won't be here that long."
The inside of Harper's home was as grand as the outside. Thick adobe walls—whitewashed and pristine—kept the hacienda cool. Colorful calico strips protected them from floor to shoulder height. Jonas Harper's success was reflected in his dwelling, from the rich carpeting that covered the floor, to the fine furniture, imported from the East, that filled its rooms. A grand piano took up one side of the common room. Libby's fingers' brushed the fine, ebony wood as she followed Nora through the house.
Harper's coffee cup rattled in its saucer when he looked up from his copy of the New Mexican Weekly Gazette and saw her standing in the dining-room doorway. He shot to his feet. "Elizabeth."
She managed a tremulous smile. "Good morning, Jonas."
"What... what a surprise." Pleasure and shock registered in his dark eyes. And something else was there, too. It made her distinctly uncomfortable, though she couldn't put her finger on it. His gaze quickly traveled down the length of her, taking in the blue-gray gown she wore. "Come in. Come in. You look lovely, my dear. A dress? To what do I owe this honor?"
Libby cleared her throat and glanced at Nora.
"Won't you join me for a cup of coffee or tea?" he asked. "Have you eaten yet? I can have Soo Ling bring in something for you."
For a middle-aged man, he was in remarkably good shape; no paunch softened his middle, though his barrel chest made him appear larger. Only a hint of gray streaked his hair and beard and he was strong. A self-made man. She didn't now feel any attraction toward him in spite of his earnest pursuit. In time, perhaps that would change.
"I... I have something I need to discuss with you, Jonas." She glanced again at Nora, hoping she'd be able to talk with him in private. As close as she felt to Jonas's sister, she had no desire for her to know the cold details of the conversation they were about to have.
Nora smiled and touched Libby's arm, taking the hint. "I'll leave you two to talk. I'll see you when you're finished, Libby."
Jonas motioned Libby to a chair and she perched upon the edge of it, nervously fidgeting with the fabric of her skirt.
"What can I do for you, Elizabeth?" he asked. Leaning back in the leather-backed chair, he sipped his steaming coffee.
"I've come"—Libby cleared the resistance from her throat—"to accept your proposal of marriage."
Chapter 15
Harper bobbled his cup, causing the hot coffee to spill over onto his fingers and the front of his shirt. He let out an involuntary curse and shook the hot liquid from his hand, then sent Libby an astonished look.
She took up a linen napkin and handed it to him. "Are you all right?"
Harper dried his hand and dabbed at the coffee on his shirt. "Yes, yes, of course. It was nothing. Did you say you've decided to marry me?"
Libby didn't know what to do with her hands, so she folded them tightly in her lap. "If the offer is still open."
"Open?" he nearly choked. "God Almight—" He caught the curse before he could finish it. "Elizabeth, do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?" He pulled one of her hands free and sandwiched it between his. A smile creased his sun-bronzed face. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, very sure," she answered. "There are, however... a few things I'll need in return." Discreetly, she withdrew her hand from his and twisted her fingers together.
Harper made a small inquisitive gesture with his hands. "Anything. What is it?"
She took a deep breath. "First, I'll need a signed agreement from you stating that Honeycutt land will remain in my name after our marriage. You, of course, will have water and grazing rights to it until the time my son, Tad, turns eighteen, when the deed shall revert to him. If he should want to start a ranch of his own, I want him to have that as an inheritance from his father and me."
Jonas studied her thoughtfully before answering. "I am not in great need of more land. Although I'm not averse to using the water on your land for my expanding herds, I have no desire to take that from you and your son. I will have my lawyers prepare an agreement to that effect, if it's what you want."
"I have my own lawyer in mind, if it's all right with you." Libby's palms grew damp with perspiration.
Harper frowned slightly, but gave a brief nod of concession.
"Second," she continued, "as you know, I have a contract with the Army for sixty saddle-broke mustangs due the first of August at Fort Union. It appears now... that I won't be able to make that deadline." Her fingers twisted deeper into the fabric of her gown. "I lost two of my men yesterday."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Did they quit on you?" Harper asked, brows raised.
She answered in a whisper. "I'd... I'd rather not discuss it."
His face was implacable. "As you wish. I'm sorry all the same."
"That's not why I'm telling you this, Jonas. I'm not looking for sympathy."
Harper leaned back and propped the knuckles of one hand against his lips. He watched her silently, waiting. "Why are you telling me, then?"
"I am... loath to renege on the promise to the Army," she went on. "Malachi made it in good faith and I feel obliged to fulfill it. I would consider it a great favor if you would lend me a few men to finish out that contract so I can leave the Honeycutt reputation intact. Of course, I'll pay you for their time after the herd is delivered."
"My men are cowmen, for the most part. Not horse wranglers."
"I know that. I also know you have a few bronc-peelers working on Three Peaks with your own remuda."
Harper smiled slowly. "That's true. I do. I suppose I can spare two men if you're determined. Between my men and yours, I'm sure they can meet your deadline. Just leave all that to me, Elizabeth."
Libby straightened her shoulders. "I intend to see this contract through personally for the Double Bar H, Jonas," she told him firmly.
"Don't be ridiculous, dear. There's no need for you to—"
"Until I do," she interrupted, "I won't feel free to leave the ranch or the past behind me. Please understand, bringing the herd together is something I feel I must do. It's still my ranch. I'm responsible. It's important to me. We can marry after the herd is delivered."
His long silence told her he wasn't pleased with her decision. Finally, he said, "You're a strong-minded woman, Elizabeth Honeycutt. I suppose you've thought this all through."
"I have," she admitted.
"We could be married this week. You and Tad could be out from under that albatross of yours and living here, under my roof. No more hard work day in and day out. No leaking roof falling down around your ears. Why, you could wear a gown like this every day. Even better gowns. I'll take you to that Jew seamstress in town, Sarah Levinson. I'll have her make you a dozen of them. As many as you like. Think again, Elizabeth."
"I'm not interested in gowns, Jonas. Don't you understand?"
He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't... But what man ever understands a woman? I suppose I have no choice in this, then. You must know I'm anxious to marry you." He placed his hand over hers.
She could feel the dampness of his palm and how his hand trembled. Guiltily, she couldn't help but compare him to Chase and the feelings he'd evoked from her with a mere touch. There was no such experience when Jonas touched her. But then, she'd never expected there would be. For once, she was doing the practical, sensible thing. Such feelings had no place in an arrangement like this.
Libby swallowed hard, enduring his touch. "It won't be long. Only six weeks. After that, I'll be free to be a wife to you."
He smiled a little wistfully and the fine lines around his eyes crinkled. "Six weeks can seem like a lifetime when you're alone."
Libby was taken aback by the loneliness she heard in his voice. She'd never considered that he might be as lonely as she. Perhaps there was some common ground between them after all.
A smile trembled over her lips. She knew she was pushing her luck. "There is one more thing. When you proposed to me months ago, you asked me to think of the advantages my son would have living here at Three Peaks. Well, I have given that a lot of thought. And you're right. I'll never be able to give him the things he deserves on my own. The one thing I've always wanted for Tad is a formal education. Nora is wonderful and she will take Tad as far as she's able. But I need your word that in a few years you will allow him to go East to finish his schooling."
"You won't have to worry in that regard, of course. Tad will be taken care of as if he were my own son. Is there... anything else?"
If Jonas was a bit peeved over her requests, he concealed it well. She was grateful to him for that. She glanced up shyly, wondering what it would be like to stare over the breakfast table for the next twenty years or so at him.
She felt nothing. Not the slightest pounding of her pulse, not the vaguest lift to her heart. Disappointment scuttled through her, but she managed a smile despite it.
"No," she answered at last. "There's nothing else. Thank you for being so understandin
g, Jonas. I'm very grateful to you."
Harper rose and took her by the shoulders, bringing her to her feet. He drew her closer to him and unexpectedly kissed her, full on the mouth. She went rigid with surprise and her mouth remained firmly shut against his eager kiss. His lips were wet, hot and demanding and they tasted of coffee and tobacco.
Her stomach roiled. Not simply because of the unpleasantness of his kiss, but because the gesture sealed the bargain she'd made to sell her soul—and so cheaply.
He pulled back and searched her eyes intently. "Elizabeth, is it only gratitude you feel for me?"
She swallowed and checked the urge to wipe his kiss from her mouth. "I won't lie to you, Jonas. I... respect you, but I'm not in love with you. Perhaps," she suggested, "it's too soon to expect such feelings."
"It is my hope that one day you'll feel for me what I already do for you. It makes me tremble to simply hold you in my arms," he said, sliding his palms up her arms and drawing her close. "You won't regret marrying me."
She pulled away, unable to look him in the eye. "I... I will try to be a good wife to you and to make you happy, Jonas."
He tipped her chin up toward him with his finger. His brown eyes darkened. "While we're laying our cards on the table, I think you should know this, Elizabeth. I want children. And soon. I want an heir. My first wife was never able to give me one."
Libby nodded. She remembered Elda, the fragile, mousey woman who'd been his wife. In all the years Libby had known her, Elda had never carried a child to term, though it had seemed the woman had been almost constantly pregnant. Was this to be her own fate as well? she wondered. Tad's birth hadn't been an easy one, but the midwife had told her the first ones are always the hardest.
Sharing Jonas's bed was part and parcel of the bargain she'd struck. It was something she'd have to endure. Maybe a child would help to bring them closer.
"Good," he replied with a smile. "Nora was coming by today with an invitation to the Independence Day celebration we're having here in two weeks. I think that would be a good time to announce our wedding plans, don't you?"
Chase the Fire Page 19