by Jodi Thomas
“I’m not a schoolgirl,” Mariah shouted after him, but there was no anger in her tone.
“So I noticed.” Dusty glanced at her as he grabbed his hat and coat off the rack by the door. His eyes dropped briefly to her blouse before returning to her face. A lazy smile spread over his handsome features. She knew he was thinking of the way she had looked earlier, with only her camisole to cover her.
He was gone before she could answer. Mariah leaned back in her chair and smiled. She had first thought this Dusty might be a problem, but maybe there was a way around him, and it wasn’t with arguments. She rose slowly and went to fetch her coat. Yes, she thought, she would handle him as she’d handled men all her life. She’d never encountered a man who wouldn’t give in after one of her smiles. Even Uncle Josh would have allowed her to go back to school and work for her goal if her mother hadn’t insisted against it. Mariah knew her mother wanted to protect her from the pain of being an outcast as the only woman enrolled in medical school. But Mariah had a mind of her own, and she planned to reach her goal without any outside help.
Mariah stepped out onto the porch as Dusty brought up the horses. The evening glowed in shadowy blues as a full moon hung like a huge milk glass dish in the cloudless sky. She moved silently behind Dusty as he tightened the girth on a chestnut mare. She hesitated a moment before reaching to rest her hand on his arm. He’d been so nice this evening, she hated to manipulate him. But a woman had to use- what weapons she had to fight to be equal. “Thanks for suggesting a ride,” Mariah whispered as he turned toward her. His face was hidden in shadows, but she felt the muscles-in his forearm tighten beneath her fingers.
She slid her hand up his shirt to his shoulder feeling his flesh tighten to her light touch. “Help me up?” She moved closer, fully aware how her nearness was affecting his breathing. She smiled to herself. This was going to be easier than she thought.
Dusty’s hands went around her waist slowly. He pulled her closer, then lifted her effortlessly into the saddle. She looked down at him, his hands remaining around her waist. Then, as if not wanting her to read his thoughts, Dusty turned away and said roughly, “Let’s ride.”
Before he could reach his horse, Mariah kicked her mount into action. She rode across the open land, laughing as Dusty yelled for her to wait. It was several minutes before he caught up with her. “Slow down, Mariah,” he yelled. “When I said a ride, I didn’t mean a race.”
Mariah pulled her horse up and slowed to a walk. “I’m sorry if it’s too much for you. I should have remembered your age.”
“My age?” Dusty laughed. “All right, kid, I’ll race you to the elms at the edge of the ridge.”
Before the last word was out of his mouth, Mariah was already two lengths ahead of him. She shoved her hat off her head and laughed as the wind whistled by her face. They rode hard as the moonlight danced across the land. Dusty passed her less than a hundred feet from the trees. He jumped from his horse and turned to greet her, his arms folded as if waiting.
Mariah reined her mount beside him, laughing with the pure joy of riding. He reached for her without hesitation and pulled her to stand beside him. “Glad you finally got here, kid,” he said, out of breath.
Mariah put her arms around his neck in a loose hold. “I’ll guess I’ll have to pay up. What is the usual bet here in Texas?”
Dusty’s sudden loss of breath had nothing to do with his vigorous ride. He moved away slightly and straightened into a tense stance. “I never make bets with kids.”
Mariah found his shyness unusual and refreshing. She knew he was attracted to her; those golden eyes couldn’t lie so blatantly. She stepped closer and locked her hand gently over his arm. As they strolled toward the ridge’s edge, Mariah asked, “Do you really think of me as a child?”
Dusty didn’t answer, but bent his elbow to accommodate her touch. His words came slow in the night air. “The stars look huge from this spot. On a clear night like this, you can see miles just by moonlight.”
They walked beside a thick shelter of trees. Dusty’s low voice blended with the whispers of the leaves around them. “Years ago, when Indians were a problem, we kept a man posted over there by the trees. Nowadays only an old-timer named Willie sleeps out here.”
Mariah tugged at his arm and he stopped. “Dusty,” she asked again, “do you still think of me as a child?”
As he turned toward her, his arm brushed the material covering her breasts. “I…” He seemed to be unable to finish. His face was hidden in shadows, but his voice seemed lower than before. “I think…”
Mariah smiled to herself. She knew if she could get him to admit she was an adult, the battle would be half won. But she was unprepared for this quiet man’s action. In the swiftness of a snapping twig, he bent toward her, capturing her lips with his kiss.
Mariah had been kissed several times by daring suitors, but nothing compared to Dusty’s kiss. His long fingers clasped over her shoulders pulling her to him full length. His mouth pressed hers in bruising need. As she tried to protest, his tongue parted her lips to taste the inside of her mouth. Mariah tried to move away, but couldn’t break free from his powerful hold. As her heart pounded moments into eternity, she felt herself sinking into his embrace. The wall she had built so carefully to allow no man near was slowly sinking into quicksand.
All thoughts drained from Mariah’s mind as she tried to stay afloat in the flood of sensations that swept over her. Her fingers rose to his chest, and even her effort to push him away became a tender embrace. His hands moved down her back, pulling her close and burning her forever with his fire. He wasn’t playing with the same set of rules, she suddenly realized. He wasn’t playing a game at all.
Mariah pushed her palms up his chest and across his shoulders to touch his hair. Her fingers ran through his sandy curls, and she felt herself melting into him as wax liquifies in the sun. His kiss deepened from a fiery explosion into a gentle need that she could no more have turned away from than stop her heart’s pounding.
Gently, his kisses lightened to a feathery touch upon her lips. They rippled like silent whispers of desire over her face. Mariah closed her eyes as she realized he was slowly lowering her from the sky back to earth. The knowledge that she didn’t want to return, but longed for him to kiss her again, blanketed all other thoughts.
Dusty’s lips slowly crossed her cheek to her ear where he whispered, “That should answer any question as to whether or not I think of you as a child or a woman.” As his words registered, he stepped away, ending his embrace.
Mariah felt the chill of his withdrawal both on her body and in her heart. The knowledge that his kiss had been a demonstration frightened her. She’d fancied herself as always knowing how to handle the opposite sex, and now she knew that she had only been dealing with boys and doting old men. This man wouldn’t be managed so easily, if at all. Anger, at herself and him, balled her fingers into fists. Before she took time to think, her right fist flew through the air and landed solidly across his jaw.
Dusty staggered slightly but easily dodged her left hook that followed an instant later.
Mariah’s voice was cold as she fought hard to control her anger. “Don’t ever force your advances on me again, or I’ll see you dead.”
Dusty rubbed his jaw. “Mariah, it will be a cold day in hell before I ever force you to do anything. But don’t lie to me or yourself. You wanted, even begged, for that kiss. What happened between us was no taking, but a giving of both.”
Mariah knew he spoke the truth, but the truth was only a cup of water over her prairie fire of anger. “Then don’t ever kiss me again.”
“I’ll not make that promise.” Dusty grew nearer, his face pale in the moonlight. “But I’ll tell you this, Mariah Weston. Someday you’ll beg me to kiss you again. For the feel of my arms will haunt your dreams from this night on.” He turned and swung into his saddle. “As the feel of you will haunt me.”
He disappeared into the trees before Mariah could a
nswer. She rode back to the barn and unsaddled her own horse. The house was quiet as a tomb. Mariah knew Dusty wouldn’t return tonight. She remembered he’d said this was not his home. She hadn’t even thought to ask him where he slept. Did he sleep out under the stars during these cold nights? Or in the bunkhouse with his men? She wished she knew where he was, for there also were her thoughts.
Chapter Twenty-three
Mariah wasted her time trying to sleep as the full Comanche moon followed a path across the sky. When she did lapse into fitful dreams, the memory of Dusty’s body pressing against her returned. She’d wake to find her skin cold for need of the fire he had ignited. At first light Mariah gave up the tossing and climbed out of bed. She dressed slowly with meticulous care, even pulling her hair into a mass of black curls above her head. Standing in front of the oval mirror, she admired her reflection with honest satisfaction. The image of a confident, fashionable young woman stood before her. No evidence of the bewildered, naive girl showed on the outside. She could face today, and Dusty Barfield, straight on as she had faced all the problems of her life.
Mariah spent the morning visiting with Ruth and wandering around the ranch house. The rooms that had been added to accommodate Mike and Allison’s ever-growing family during their years on the ranch were quiet now, waiting for the next generation. They left Mariah feeling hollow, like visiting an empty nursery of a childless couple.
Mid-morning, Ruth joined Mariah for coffee. The old woman explained that everything in the original wing was the same as it had been when Ben and Bethanie lived there, with the exception of a few rugs.
Mariah discovered that Ruth talked only of subjects she wished to. The old housekeeper often chose to ignore questions as if she hadn’t heard them.
After coffee, Mariah began examining all the ranch books which she found in order on top of the massive desk. Only one drawer was locked to her curious digging. Every fact about the ranch over the past ten years had been carefully documented in a clear, bold handwriting. There’d been good times and hard times, but always the bookkeeping looked complete. When times were good, Dusty had used the profits to improve the ranch. When times were hard, he’d crossed his own salary off the chart to help pay bills. She was surprised to see that he paid himself only the same as the hands. Never more, even in the best of times.
Just after ten, a knock sounded at the door, rattling like some huge woodpecker gone crazy on the porch. Mariah’s brave front was a wasted effort as she greeted only Elliot Mayson. He seemed a faded substitute of the man she’d expected. Elliot was dressed in a wool, Eastern-cut suit that seemed to have shrunk a size since he’d put it on. His round hat has been replaced by a widebrimmed Stetson, making him seem like a crossbreed of East and West.
“Miss Weston.” He smiled with a mouth blessed with too many teeth. “I hope you don’t find me presumptuous to call on you unannounced. I wanted to check on your welfare as well as invite you to go for a ride this magnificent morning.”
Mariah’s smile vanished as she noticed he drove a buggy. She loved horses and would rather ride bareback than in a buggy. She recovered enough to invite him in for tea. As she turned to fetch refreshments, she saw Ruth coming from the kitchen with a tray already made.
Mariah gracefully served tea and listened to Elliot chatter for half an hour. He seemed never to tire of telling her of all his accomplishments. He reminded her of the young men who came to her school for Sunday teas. He saw himself and his ever-changing emotions as life’s most interesting subject. By the time they set off in the buggy, Mariah’s head was pounding from the hammering of his precisely pronounced words and the flood of his extravagant vocabulary. She even mused that Elliot’s father may have sent him away to school to lower the chatter level.
She sat quietly, her fingers intertwined to keep from taking the reins away from his incapable hands. They bounced over the land she’d galloped across the moonlight with Dusty. Now the sun was high, and the cold breeze only served to stir the dust in her face.
Finally Elliot pulled the buggy under a clump of trees at the edge of the ridge, not a hundred yards from where she had stood with Dusty looking at the stars.
Elliot helped her from the buggy as if she were senile and incapable of any actions on her own. He patted her hand as they strolled among the short shadows. He rambled on several minutes before seeming to find his direction. “I’ve talked with my father, and he is very interested in making you an offer. If he can buy your half, he will split the ranch.”
Mariah didn’t respond. She had to sell her half of the ranch to get the money for two years of schooling. But she still clung to the idea that Dusty would make her an offer. Even his behavior last night didn’t alter the fact that she’d feel guilty about causing the demise of the Weston Ranch.
A rustling among the trees drew their attention. Elliot stiffened as a lone rider broke from the green mass and rode toward them. Mariah didn’t have to look at the intruder’s face to recognize Dusty’s strong, lean body in control of his powerful horse.
Dusty stopped several feet from her and shoved his hat far back on his sandy-brown hair. Mariah felt a smile crawl out of her planned pout, for Dusty’s face was clean-shaven. He looked younger without a beard, but the strong line of authority still set his jawline. She thought she also saw a hint of jealousy touch his golden eyes as he studied Elliot.
“Morning, Mr. Mayson,” Dusty nodded toward Elliot, then turned to wink at Mariah with a bold gesture that drew blood to her cheeks.
“Good morning, sir. I almost didn’t know you without a beard. Can’t say I remember ever seeing you without one. But then, I don’t see you that often.” Elliot seemed to make no attempt to hide his displeasure. “We were just enjoying a pleasant ride.” When Dusty made no action to move on, Elliot added, “Alone.”
Mariah studied Dusty carefully. He would had to have been a complete idiot not to get Elliot’s point, but still he sat in the saddle as if he were watching a sleeping herd and had nowhere else to go. Mariah couldn’t help but study the two men. Though Elliot was at least eight years Dusty’s junior, they were very nearly the same size. However, Mariah knew Dusty’s shoulders were wide with muscles while Elliot’s had been created by a tailor.
She could see the circles under Dusty’s eyes, and knew he’d been awake most of the night also. His voice was matter-of-fact. “I thought I’d ride out and tell Miss Weston that Allison and Mike are at the ranch.” His next words were cold. “That is if she’s finished with her…comparisons.”
Did Dusty think she brought Elliot here to get him to kiss her? Anger rushed in her veins, but a smile froze across her face. “Please tell Allison and Mike I will be along directly, as soon as I complete a little study.” There was no mistaking the master-to-servant tone in her voice.
Dusty’s face clouded in anger, and Elliot’s went blank in confusion. Before she could say another word, Dusty kicked his horse and left in a cloud of dirt.
Mariah turned her back and wished she hadn’t been so bold. She’d ordered him around like he was beneath her station, then hinted she might complete the comparison he’d suggested. Why couldn’t she stop striking every time he provoked her? His image of her must be growing more distorted from the truth each time they met. He must think her a mindless brat. Why didn’t she let him see her other side? But how do you tell a man you’re deeply concerned about people and want to help them, when you’ve walloped him in the jaw and threatened to kill him the night before. How do you share your dreams with someone who only wants to see your flaws?
Elliot’s smooth hand touched Mariah’s arm. “Are you all right, Mariah?”
For a moment she thought he was actually interested in her welfare, but he continued with a list of negative feelings he bore toward Dusty which ended with, “My father will hear of his rude behavior.”
“Does your father know of all you do?” Mariah asked, only half interested.
“Well…no.” Elliot seemed upset by her question. �
�I did tell him I was coming here today, but…”
Elliot was gaining her full attention for the first time since they met. “Did your father send you the way he sent you to meet me on the train?”
“Well…he is very interested in buying your part of the ranch. But I assure you, Mariah, I would have come with or without his approval.” His eyes looked beyond her to the invisible future only he could envision. “When I think about what a surprise it would be to him if I closed this deal for him. I would just walk in and hand him half of a ranch he’s wanted all his life.”
Mariah relaxed and added another brick to the wall around her heart. Elliot was only interested in her for the ranch, just as the others had been interested in her for the mines. He wanted to buy her half to prove something to his father. Even though it was a little disheartening to her ego, as least she could handle him knowing where she stood.
Elliot talked and pleaded all the way back to the ranch, until Mariah agreed to have a decision about selling by the following morning. She disliked being pushed almost as much as she hated his constant pampering. He, however, paid no attention to her withdrawal and continued to grow more bold with each touch, even going so far as to place his arm around her shoulder as he said his goodbyes on the porch. The idea that she wasn’t attracted to him would never have crossed his conceited mind.
When she opened the door, she was bombarded with half a dozen blond-headed cousins. Mike and Allison’s two oldest children were away at school, but Mariah wondered if anyone ever stopped to count and notice they were gone. For several minutes she hugged and laughed as they all tried to talk at once.
Just as the clan settled down, Dusty opened the door and the hugging ritual began again with even more vigor. From the way he teased and complimented each one, Mariah knew he must have long ago been accepted as part of the family. Though she’d seen most of the cousins when they had visited Colorado every few years, Dusty seemed more a part of the family.