“He’s going to prison in a few days, Pete. They won’t be hanging him.” His voice softened. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll mention your name?”
“I got nothing to do with it.” Pete sounded sullen, defensive, and Chloe could bear it no longer.
“Stop.” She spread her hand wide on J.T.’s chest, her heart aching as J.T. inhaled, aware his anger was at the boiling point. “Let’s not do this tonight. Pete—” turning to her brother, she motioned toward the bunkhouse “—go on out and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
With a haughty glance in J.T.’s direction, Pete nodded, then led his horse toward the barn, and Chloe was left to face the fury of the frustrated man behind her. His first movements were harsh as he spun her to face him, and then she tipped her head upward to meet his gaze in the shadows.
Damn. He caught his breath as he watched the tears flow, and his anger was deflected by concern for the woman who stood between her brother and disaster. “Chloe.” Her name was all he could speak, and then she was gathered to his chest and he felt the shuddering sobs she could not contain. “Don’t let him pull the wool over your eyes, honey,” he said quietly. “You’re too softhearted where that boy’s concerned, and he’ll take advantage.”
“You really think he’s part of the whole thing, don’t you?” she asked, lifting her face to peer into his eyes.
“Yeah, I do.” And he was uneasy at the thought of harboring him even for one night within the boundaries of the ranch, lest he’d just let the enemy through the gates, he thought glumly. Yet, maybe close at hand was the safer of two choices.
“What did he say he wanted?” J.T. asked.
“He didn’t.” Her voice held a note of surprise and she stiffened. “He just said he…” She paused and looked toward the barn, where a light glowed within and Pete could be seen unsaddling his horse in the aisle. “I don’t know why he came back.” Puzzlement wrapped the words, and her shoulders slumped. “I was just so happy to see him, and I thought surely he wouldn’t show up here if he was guilty of anything.” Her laugh rasped against his hearing and she lifted a hand to her mouth. “You’re right. I’m gullible.”
“No, just tenderhearted,” J.T. said, denying her words even as he expelled a sigh of relief. Maybe she was beginning to see Pete in a new light, finally. “I’ll take a walk out and tell Hogan to keep an ear open for him. We’ll talk in the morning, and Pete will come up with some answers, or he’s on his way out of here, Chloe.”
It was an hour later before J.T. crawled into their bed. Curled into a ball, the sheet almost over her head, Chloe huddled in the middle, and he scooped her against himself. “You awake?” he asked quietly, aware that she relaxed against him with only a moment’s hesitation. He pushed her hair from her face, tilting her head back, and found her mouth with his own.
Warm and soft beneath his lips, she responded, not with passion or desire, but as if she needed the comfort of his presence. He kissed her, without demand, but with purpose. Coaxing her into his arms was not the problem. Chloe was willing to be held. Easing her to a state of loving might take some doing, but the need to enforce their intimacy was uppermost in his mind. A bulwark against Pete’s influence must be formed, and to his way of thinking, such a thing could be best erected by the claiming of Chloe’s body and the firming of their growing relationship.
“I don’t think I want to do this,” she murmured as his tongue edged her lower lip.
“Sure you do, honey,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “I need you, sweetheart.” His hand rubbed idly against her back, easing her nightgown up until he found the soft skin of her hip beneath his fingertips. She shifted idly, and shook her head, a quick movement signifying reluctance.
But he would not cease, only murmuring words of admiration for her as he feathered his kisses across her face, coming up on his elbow, the better to accomplish his purpose. She rolled to her back and he slid his hand the length of her thigh, lifting her knee and shaping the muscles of her calf in his palm. “You’re so sleek, honey,” he murmured. And then he sought the soft flesh of her inner thigh, where his fingers lingered, brushing the tender skin as he found her mouth again and breathed warmth against her soft lips.
“Kiss me back, Clo,” he whispered. “Please.” And she did, hesitantly at first, and then as his fingertips touched her hidden folds, she trembled against his hand and a tiny sob escaped her lips.
“You don’t play fair,” she cried softly. Almost reluctantly, she rose to his touch, and he stifled a surge of satisfaction at the helpless note of desire in her voice. “I didn’t want this tonight,” she told him, pushing against his chest, and yet her fingers brushed against the curls.
“I’ll stop if you say so,” he said slowly. “But I don’t want to, Clo. I think you need me as much—”
“I do,” she whispered, her words tangling with his. “I just feel like things are not right somehow, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Don’t think for now. Not at all,” he coaxed. “Just let me love you.”
“You didn’t bargain for this when you married me, did you?” she asked sadly.
“I’ll take anything I can get when it comes to you, Clo,” he told her firmly. “I’ve never needed a woman so much.”
“Needed?” The single word was wistful, and he lifted his head from her throat and heard the plea behind its utterance.
“Wanted, maybe?” he asked quietly. “I care about you, sweetheart. Enough to be a part of your life until the day I die. But I won’t make you do anything you don’t want. Just say the word and I’ll kiss you good-night.”
Her sigh was deep and she lifted a hand to his cheek. “I’m being pouty, aren’t I? Acting like a silly child, when what I want is to be…I want to be your wife, Jay. Maybe I just needed some persuasion.” She buried her fingers in his hair and with gentle pressure guided him to the front of her gown.
His mouth touched the soft fabric and he bit carefully at a button. “Won’t come undone,” he muttered. And laughed as she inched her fingers through the buttonhole beneath his mouth. She eased the next opening apart, then another and he waited, impatience building as she exposed pale skin to his view. The bodice fell wide apart as her fingertips reached the bottom of the row of small buttons, and he dropped his cheek to touch the pearling of soft flesh as it peaked against his whiskered jaw.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, turning his face to catch the rigid bit of skin between his teeth. She gasped, a taut whisper in the night, and her hands clutched for purchase at his head. It was all he needed, that single sound that told him she was with him, and his mouth opened fully over the firm, plump treasure she offered.
“Jay.” The desire was there now, and he rejoiced at her generosity, yet he lingered, not willing to press her too rapidly into the final movements of this act of loving. He would make it last, draw out her pleasure, fulfill the yearning that throbbed even now beneath his hand, where slick, wet folds urged his possession.
“Jay.” Desire became demand and her fingertips pressed more firmly against his head as her hips rose, thrusting against him.
He answered, a low, hungry sound, a guttural blend of desire and triumph. And found that in the giving, he received. In the pleasuring, he found satisfaction beyond his expectation, and as her cries of passion rose to fill his hearing, he found she had woven her way into his heart. And he was struck by the sudden knowledge that he was no longer alone. That this woman made him vulnerable. Vulnerable and afraid.
Chapter Eleven
“You’re outta your mind, lettin’ him stay on here.” Hogan vented his opinion with a glare, his hat pushed back, his hands fisted against his hipbones. “You’ve done nothin’ but set loose a coyote in the henhouse, J.T.,” he snarled. “I know Chloe’s a soft touch where he’s concerned, but I gave you credit for more sense.”
Aware that the man’s anger was honest, J.T. ignored the lack of respect in Hogan’s words. Another time, or
from another man, his reaction would have differed greatly, but Hogan was as much a part of the Double B as Chloe herself. “I won’t fight her over her brother,” J.T. said calmly, even though his every instinct was to agree with Hogan’s stand. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him.”
“Damned if I’ll follow him around like a nursemaid,” Hogan said, defiance lighting his eyes. “You gave him a bunk last night, J.T., you can just handle him yourself.” He breathed deeply, looking off across the yard to where Pete stood on the porch with Chloe. His shoulders twitched, and then he grunted, a curse dropping from his lips as he swung back to the silent man watching him.
“You gonna fire me?”
“Hell, no,” J.T. said with a harsh burst of laughter. “That’d be like cuttin’ off my nose to spite my face. You run this place, Hogan. What would I want to do a fool thing like that for?”
“I’m not gonna apologize,” Hogan warned him.
“Didn’t expect you to. A man has a right to his own opinion.”
Pete looked up, his narrowed gaze touching the two men who watched him. And then he spoke to Chloe again, and her eyes flashed to where J.T. stood, a fleeting message within their depths that he sensed rather than saw.
“Get on out here, Pete. You’ve got a day’s work to do if you’re planning on earning your keep.” J.T.’s tone was harsh, and he made no effort to soften his stance as Pete jumped from the porch and headed toward him. “I want the barn cleaned and the tack looked after. The rest of the men have their hands full keeping track of the herd. You’ll pull chore duty for the next day or so.”
“Keeping me close by?” Pete asked snidely. “What’s the matter? Afraid I can’t hold my own out on the range?”
J.T.’s fingers formed a fist, and he subdued the urge to slam it into Pete’s mocking expression. “I’m afraid if those men get a gander at you, they’ll chop you to bits, boy. You’re not very popular around here right now.”
“Never had any trouble till you started causing it,” Pete said snidely. And then he stalked past the two men and snatched a pitchfork from the barn wall. Grasping the wheelbarrow, he headed for the back of the barn, and J.T. glanced toward the house where Chloe watched from the porch. She lifted a hand, then dropped it into her pocket, her movement slow.
“I’ll be out in a while,” she called, and he nodded.
“I’m headin’ out now,” Hogan told him, untying his horse and easing into the saddle. Sacks of provisions hung heavily from behind the saddle, and he moved cautiously. “J.T.,” he began, his reins taut as the horse pranced his impatience. “Should I send Cleary back up here? Maybe he needs to know who Pete is. You know, just in case he runs across him.”
“You’re thinking the same thing I am, Hogan. Spit it out. Cleary’s here because Micah wants him around. I’ve accepted that, and I’m putting my faith in Micah’s good sense. Tell him about Pete, and don’t spare the details. He needs to know what we think. And whether Chloe likes it or not, Pete’s under the gun as far as I’m concerned.”
“You said it all, boss.” Relaxing his hold on the horse he rode, Hogan allowed the animal to set out, and in moments they were gone, a cloud of dust concealing their movements.
The days were slow, and J.T. watched and waited. His suspicions ran high, as did the tension among the men who were working shorthanded. Torn between staying close at hand, in order to watch Pete and be with Chloe, or working with the men, he chose the former, spending the hours with training and keeping Pete busy at mundane tasks. The young man was silent, dark looks betraying his anger, and J.T. felt he was walking a tightrope, uneasy, yet certain his gut instincts were on target.
Micah showed up the third day, sweeping his hat from his head, looking toward the house as if seeking a glimpse of Tilly. “How’s it going?” he asked, leaning on his saddle horn, his narrowed eyes taking in J.T.’s impatient demeanor.
“You tell me,” J.T. answered curtly. “They still holding Corky in a cell?”
“Yeah. The judge gave him another couple of days to ponder his sins. The man’s gettin’ edgy as hell, to tell the truth. Heard him hollerin’ this morning, wantin’ to know what’s goin’ on. Maybe the judge has the right idea, keeping him off guard this way. I’m thinking the rest of the gang will be anxious to have it done with, and hoping Corky keeps his mouth shut.” He shrugged idly. “Then too, they might be down in Silver City counting their money by now.”
“It’s a waiting game either way,” J.T. said. “But I think Pete’s got something up his sleeve. He’s been keeping an eye on me for two days, like he’s waiting for me to get out of his range.”
“He working or just shuffling his feet?” Micah asked, tossing a look toward the barn.
“A little of both, trying to stay in Chloe’s good graces, mostly.”
“How is she?” Micah asked, his gaze flickering toward the back door. And then his eyes lit. “Say there, Tilly. You got a cup of coffee for an old man?”
Tilly stood behind the screen, a solid presence, and J.T. grinned. “Go on in and talk to her, Micah. Give her something to think about, other than fretting about Chloe.”
Not waiting for a second invitation, Micah stood down from his horse and tied the animal to the hitching rail before he sauntered to the porch. Tilly held open the door and he walked past her. She released it with a snap of her hand and it caught him smartly on his rump, and J.T. heard her muffled laughter.
“We’ll lose our cook if you keep encouraging him,” Chloe said from behind him. He turned to watch as she tilted her hat back and grinned at him. A smile he hadn’t seen form in three days, a welcome glimpse of white teeth and curved lips. He couldn’t resist, and swept her into his embrace.
“I’ve missed your smile,” he murmured, bending to drop a series of kisses against her cheek. And then he released her. “You smiled last night, though, now that I think about it.”
“How do you know?” she asked with a flash of sassy eyes. “It was dark.”
“I knew,” he told her. And was silent, watching as her mouth pressed together and she flushed, as if her memories were warm in her mind. “I knew, Chloe. It did my heart good.”
“Mine, too,” she admitted quietly. “You’re good to me, J.T., and I appreciate it. I know it hasn’t been easy for you to have the worry of Pete being here. I keep wondering where you’re getting all the patience it’s taking to deal with him. And I keep waiting for something to happen.”
“You, too?”
“Me, too.” She touched his shirt with her index finger. “I’ve curried and brushed those horses till my arms ache. I’ve watched you riding and working and wondered how long we can keep marking time this way. What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know. But I feel a storm brewing, and it’s not good. The weather’s changing and the herd is tired of being held so tight. A good lightning bolt will be enough to cause real problems out there, and we’re sitting on a powder keg, Chloe.”
“Why don’t you take a ride out and see how the men are holding up? Things are fine here, and Micah will probably stay for a while.”
“Maybe.” He hesitated, then made up his mind. “All right. I’ll just have a word with Micah first.”
From behind the barn, a shrill trumpet announced the presence of the paint stallion, and Chloe looked to where Pete stood at the barn door. “Your stud is edgy, too, Jay. Is he just tired of being kept away from the mares?”
“Probably. Lowery’s wanting to ride him, working the herd, and he could use the exercise, but I’d rather keep him near the barn.”
He was gone in fifteen minutes, a quick kiss his farewell, and Chloe watched him leave. She headed for the chicken coop, where the hens gathered around the flat wide pan in the middle of the fenced-in enclosure, clucking and pecking their way through the morning’s offering of feed. A bucket of water scooped from the trough in hand, she opened the gate and squeezed through, holding the dusty, gray hens aside with one foot, lest they escape into the yard. She bent,
filling the water basin for them and watched with a grin as they gathered there to drink, tipping their heads back, allowing the water to run down their throats.
“Silly things,” she murmured. “Nothing to do but eat and lay eggs and let that fancy pants rooster chase you around.” The cock stirred from beneath the shade of the coop as if he’d heard his name mentioned and stretched long legs, strutting between the members of his harem and sending them scattering with a sharp peck.
“Mean old thing,” Chloe said, tossing the residue of the water in his direction. He crowed, a distinct challenge, and she laughed aloud. “Men are all alike,” she said, scolding him roundly. “Between you and that stallion…” And J.T. Flannery, she thought, remembering his words. You smiled last night. And she had, she remembered, opening the gate and closing it behind herself.
Cocky. He’d been downright cocky. She deposited the bucket by the trough, her mind filled with the memory of his touch, his kisses, his body possessing hers.
The man in the shadows of the barn watched, cursing beneath his breath as he wondered what thoughts ran rampant in his sister’s mind.
“He’s making a fool of you,” he whispered. “And I’m gonna hit him where it hurts.”
The storm rumbled its way across the range, lightning flashing, bringing J.T. up from the bed with a sharp exclamation. “Damn, it couldn’t have come at a worse time,” he said with impatience, running his fingers through his hair. “Middle of the night’s a bad time to hold that herd in place with this kind of commotion.”
“You can’t do much about it now,” Chloe said from the bed. “There’s no sense in getting wet for nothing. The men will handle it.”
“I feel uneasy,” he told her, searching for the trousers he’d dropped beside the bed right after dark.
She sat upright and sighed. “I’ll get up and make you coffee.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll just find my slicker and—” He jerked, his attention caught by lightning from outside the window, and hopping on one foot, he clutched at his trousers, hauling them on as he bent low to peer toward the barn. “Something’s going on out there,” he said harshly. “The door’s hanging open and I can see a light inside.”
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