Oklahoma kiss

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Oklahoma kiss Page 13

by Unknown


  Knowing she was waiting for an answer, Adam figured the best way out was to tell her a blatant lie. He rubbed his chin and sighed. "All right, I’ve been avoiding you. I thought maybe you would want to talk about your argument with Warren, and I didn't want to get involved in any family disagreements."

  She smiled her relief. "So, that's what it was. . .and I thought I had made you angry."

  "When somebody does that, there's usually no question in his mind if I’m angry or not." Leisurely, he stretched his long legs, laced his fingers together, propped them behind his head, and leaned back —much to Blair's dismay, for she enjoyed the feel of his arm resting on the back of the swing. "Since I will be here for a few more days, let me explain something; then you won't be so apt to get your feelings hurt unnecessarily. I’ve spent the greater part of the past seven years by myself. Mind you, I’m not complaining, it's just something that goes with the job, but I have grown accustomed to it. Maybe too accustomed to it," he added dryly. "Because now, whenever I'm around too many people, or stay in one place for too long a time, I feel hemmed in. It's not so bad when I'm able to walk outside and get a breath of fresh air, or mount up and ride off for an hour or two. But sitting in one place day after day ..." His features distorted as though he had bit into something sour. "So, if you start thinking I'm angry just because I'm not talking . . . well, maybe I had rather be alone."

  "Oh ... I see," she said softly.

  She had received the answer to the questions that had been tearing at her, but it was an answer she would have preferred not to hear. Adam was a loner. He was not interested in settling down with a wife and having a family as she had unconsciously hoped. He was not interested in her! At least not in the way she wanted him to be.

  "T-then tell me ... am I intruding on your privacy now?" she asked in a hesitant voice. Adam caught her hand when she started to rise, and in spite of what he had just said, a tingling of excitement raced through her at his touch.

  "No, you are not intruding. I enjoy your company. Besides, if you go back into the house, you'll probably decide my feet need to soak again, or it's time to put more of that awful-smelling medicine on them. As long as you're out here with me, figure I’m safe."

  From his words and the tone of his voice, she realized he was trying to tease her back into a good mood. Blair decided right then she could either accept what he had just "told her, and look-elsewhere for a man who would really care for her, or, she could do her damnedest to make him change his mind. Without giving it a second thought, Blair knew what she had to do, and she might as well start this very minute.

  Chapter 11

  "Blair, there's something I’ve been curious about," Adam stated, turning his head slightly toward her. "That day out near your grandfather's meadow, why did you think that little charade was necessary?"

  "C-charade?" She lowered her eyes and blushed.

  "Aww, you know what I’m talking about."

  This was the first time anything specific had been mentioned about that day, and while she preferred to forget it had ever happened, she couldn't avoid his direct question. "Because I really didn't think you would take me seriously otherwise."

  He smiled and said with quiet emphasis, "Believe me, anytime someone points a gun at me, I take it serious"

  "I still say, you wouldn't have believed I posed a threat."

  "Why?"

  Recalling his and Warren's silly little game, Blair responded, "I think I can explain better by showing instead of telling you. Now, you have to keep in mind I thought you were a dangerous cattle rustler."

  "All right, I will."

  Standing, she leveled an imaginary rifle in his direction and using normal enunciation, she spoke in her regular tone of voice, "Turn around. Mister, I have a rifle pointing at you." She noticed a wide grin spreading across Adam's face and an amused gleam coming from his eyes. "I believe you are a cattle rustler, and I insist that you accompany me to the ranch so that my brothers can turn you over to the proper authorities. I’m sure you must know that in this part of the country, cattle rustling is a hanging offense."

  Hearing the screen door slam behind her, Blair grimaced and her face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. She reluctantly turned about.

  Warren stood there, wearing the most puzzled expression, while slowly shaking his head. It was plain to see he thought she had lost her mind. Without saying a word, he walked to the gate, turned and looked at her again, then headed for the barn, still shaking his head.

  "You . . . you scoundrel!" she railed, though not actually angry, but terribly embarrassed. "You led me into that . . . knowing he was standing there!"

  Laughing raucously, Adam finally managed to say, "He wasn't when I asked you. Besides, I had no idea what you were going to do."

  Presenting her back to him, she walked to the porch railing, crossed her arms and patted her foot against the floor while attempting to hold back the tears that threatened. When embarrassed or angry, she nearly always cried.

  Adam crossed the porch, took hold of her arms and gently pulled her around to face him. "Embarrassed?" he asked softly, gazing down at her lovely face.

  Nodding, her long sooty lashes fluttered downward against her cheek, then swept upward as she met his gaze. On any other woman the movement might have seemed coy, but so innocent were her eyes, Adam suddenly felt helpless and protective all at once.

  Her eyes were wide and luminous, the pupils dark as if she too had felt a rush of emotions. Her cheeks were flushed and curling tendrils of black hair clung to her temples. Adam put up a hand to brush them away. His fingertips trailed across the soft curve of her cheek and he was lost. Gently, he gripped her chin in his big hand and his mouth swooped down to claim hers, tasting the sweetness he'd known would be there. She was startled but offered no resistance. His tongue traced along the fullness of her lips, but in her innocence her mouth remained closed to him. His hand dropped, grazing lightly against the soft mound of her breast as he gripped her waist and pulled her tightly to him.

  Instinctively she wound her arms around his neck. His cheek pressed against hers, the slight scrape of his beard roughening her skin. Blair gasped and arched her back, delighting in the tantalizing sensations his touch evoked.

  She felt so good in his arms, small and dainty and womanly. Her body heat enhanced the delicate fragrance of her skin, inflaming his senses, causing his loins to quicken. The heat of her body penetrated his own and awakened fires he had vowed not to kindle. What in the hell was he doing?

  Firmly, yet gently, he thrust her away from him and stepped back. Raking a hand through his hair, regret glazed his eyes. "I don't know what came over me," he murmured huskily. "I never planned . . ."

  Blair sensed if he apologized or chastised himself for kissing her, there could be irreparable damage to their fledgling relationship. If only there was a way to pretend the kiss never happened. . . .

  An idea suddenly struck her. There was a possible way to extricate them from this precarious situation. No question it was conniving and dishonest, but salvaging their friendship was much more important than any pangs of conscience that might arise later. Blair deliberately thought in the terms of "friendship," although, deep inside she was aware of a tiny voice telling her that she would never be satisfied with anything less than his love.

  She placed a finger across his lips, silencing him. "No, Adam, please do not apologize when the only thing you are guilty of is trying to make me feel better." She wet her Ups and smiled at him. "I ... I appreciate what you tried to do just now and it's so terribly sweet . . . honestly though, it was not necessary." She raised her hands in an open palm gesture. "Do I look as though I am dying of a broken heart?"

  Baffled by her strange reaction and incoherent babbling, he shook his head, his brows slanted in a puzzled frown. "I’m not sure I know what you're talking about."

  "Your kissing me," she chided in a soft, husky voice. "Regard
less of what you must have been told, I never loved Albert, I only thought of him as a friend . . . and not a very good one at that. In all sincerity, it was not upsetting when he and a friend of mine at school announced their engagement. Still, what you did was terribly sweet." Raising on her tiptoes, she gave him a sisterly kiss on his cheek.

  "You think I . . ."

  "Of course you did and don't try to deny it." Were her cheeks flushing as warmly as she thought they were?

  So that was it. Some fool had let Blair slip through his fingers and she thought . . . little did she know he had kissed her because he had wanted to —even though he shouldn't have. His first impulse was to set her straight, but he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn't. If he told her the truth, it would ease his conscience, but what would she think of him? Damn it, why was he so suddenly concerned over what a woman thought about him?

  With a deliberately casual movement, he shrugged. "I suppose I have no choice then."

  "None whatsoever." Blair could tell by his deepening scowl he did not like being placed in this dilemma. She certainly did not care for the chicanery but without it, she was afraid nothing would have ever been the same between them.

  "You're not mad at me?"

  "I should be . . . but I'm not though. However, I do demand satisfaction."

  "Oh? What will it be, pistols at twenty paces?" he countered testily.

  She advanced toward him, an amused gleam in her eyes, her tone was teasing, "No, not pistols. Chess or checkers, it's your choice."

  His eyes narrowed, his mouth twitched. "How good are you at checkers?"

  "My brothers refuse to play with me if that tells you anything."

  "Then I choose chess."

  "I'll get the board and an extra chair if you'll move those flower pots off that table."

  "Agreed."

  After being checkmated twice in a row, Adam leaned back against the swing and crossed his arms. He stared hard at her. "I suppose you conveniently forgot to tell me that your brothers refuse to play chess with you, too."

  "No, I didn't forget, you just didn't ask."

  Admiration edged into his voice, "Is there anything you can't do?"

  Blair grinned. "Many things. What I don't do well, I try not to do in front of people." Raising one side of her upper lip, she shook her head and frowned. "That sounded very confusing, didn't it?"

  "Yes." Grinning, Adam scratched the back of his neck. "What worries me though, I understood you perfectly. Whatever it is you are suffering from, it must be catching." Then he cocked his head to the side and held up a hand, cautioning her to be quiet. "Listen. That's Red barking."

  Standing, Adam stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, then cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "Come 'ere. Red, come on, boy."

  They distinctly heard his deep-throated bark long before they saw him running toward them in a lopping, floppy-eared, ground-covering gait.

  Reaching the front steps, Red slid to a halt, sat down and waited for Adam's command. His haunches quivered with anticipation, his tongue lolled, his tail unmercifully whacked the rain-soaked earth with loud thumps.

  "Come on up here, boy," he said, pointing to the spot in front of him. The dog obeyed, but made no attempt to whine, jump up on, or lick Adam. He did, however, continue to rapidly wag his tail.

  Resting her chin on her hand, a faint smile touched her lips. It was enjoyable to see such a rapport between man and animal. She'd always had the opinion that much could be learned about a man by merely observing a dog’s reaction to him. "That's a fine-looking dog you have, and apparently well-trained too."

  "Oh, he's just a mongrel," Adam replied affectionately, ruffling the dog's ears.

  "I felt so sorry for him the first day when it rained so hard ... I started to ask you to come to the back door and tell him to go lie down somewhere. He was sitting out by the cellar, soaking wet and looking miserable."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "I was afraid you would insist on taking care of him, and you had no business being outside. So, I persuaded Jake to bring some hay over to the wash shed. We spread it over the floor and put out food and water; although he used the shelter, he never ate the food —I figured when he got hungry enough, he would eat." She critically surveyed his sleek body and gleaming coat. "It doesn't appear that he's gone hungry though."

  Adam glanced at her as though that thought had never entered his mind. "The way I live, I never wanted him to be dependent on me, so I taught him to look after himself. When we're away from Fort Smith, he hunts for his own food."

  Seeing a stick lying by the steps, Adam picked it up and threw it. Red immediately bounded from the porch to retrieve it.

  Sensing she had been dismissed for the time being, Blair turned her attention to the pasture filled with multicolored wildflowers beside the house. She suddenly decided to go pick a bouquet for the table —pretty flowers had a way of cheering people up. Even though the rain had improved all of the hands’ spirits, she knew they were deeply concerned over the impending land rush—they all were.

  "Adam, I’ll be back shortly. If Tillie starts looking for me, tell her I've gone to pick a bouquet of flowers for the dinner table."

  Adam nodded absent-mindedly, continuing to play with Red.

  Blair gingerly picked her way past the mud puddles, opened the gate to the pasture and closed it behind her. She could not help but think how she would have jumped over the fence four years earlier. Unless she'd had to ride a horse or drive a wagon through one, gates simply hadn't existed. Carefully avoiding the puddles of standing water, she made her way further into the pasture.

  Adam finally sent Red on his way. Reluctant to go back inside the house, but tired of sitting, he restlessly paced about the porch, feeling troubled by so many unfamiliar emotions.

  What was happening to him? He hated liars, yet lies and half-truths had been rolling off his tongue with ease. What he had told Blair earlier about preferring a solitary life was only half-accurate. While that was a vital part of his life, hell, he wasn't a hermit, he enjoyed people's company. He would also be the first to admit that at times, the trail was lonely—too damn lonely—but ever since he had put on his badge and sworn to uphold the law, he had been thoroughly satisfied with the way he lived. Why then was he questioning it now? Why did he suddenly feel like something essential had been missing from his life? And why had he allowed Blair to think he kissed her only because some fool chose another woman over her? Why in the hell should he be reluctant for her to know that he wanted to kiss her? It was unsettling to think that if it happened again, and if the circumstances were right, he might not be able to stop with just one kiss. His appetite had been whetted for much, much more. Blair was one hell of a woman, and apparently she had no idea of the effect she had on him. He had the strongest hunch it wouldn't be just him either. When the young men in the area got a good look at the beauty she had become, they would beat a path to her door.

  That idea did not set well with him either. The thought of another man holding her in his arms and tasting those sweet, innocent lips was enough to make his blood boil.

  Suddenly a muscle clenched in his jaw. He stopped his ceaseless pacing and plundered his hand through his hair, then massaged the back of his neck as though that would ease the prickly sensation creeping up his spine. He had the strangest feeling that something was wrong. He'd always had an uncanny sixth sense—that's why he was so good at tracking men down—but it rarely ever bothered him unless he was on someone's trail. He'd had this same feeling twice in Fort Smith, though, and each time an irate relative of a man he'd brought in to stand trial had been laying for him.

  Carefully, he looked around but saw nothing that implied danger. Still, his strange feeling persisted.

  "I’m going to go pick some flowers."

  Jerking his head about, he saw Blair raising her skirts modestly while avoiding puddles of stan
ding water as she gathered flowers. He saw no danger there.

  "Come on, Adam, the drinks are on me!" Warren said as he bellied up to the bar, "I've just made the buy of a lifetime! I’ve been wanting that bull for three years now and I finally got Dub Causey down to my price. Yep, I'm going to haul or Lucifer home and let him romance my ladies."

  "Lucifer . . . that's a hell of a name for a bull."

  "That's right, and it's well deserved, too. That bastard's mean! He gored one of Causey's men, then trampled him to death. That's why he's getting rid of him. Well, I think his wife has a lot to do with it, too. They have small children and I suspect ol' Lucifer got after one of them. Since there's no children at the, ranch, though, we won't have that to worry about."

  "What kind of a bull is he?"

  "He's half brahma and half longhorn, that means a superior tick- and heat-resistant, sturdier breed of cattle, which is precisely the kind of livestock I need to concentrate on raising. Yep, soon as I get ol' Lucifer home, he's going to start raising hell!"

  Still troubled, Adam stared across the field at Blair. Why had he thought about that conversation he'd had with Warren? It had been at least two years ago since it had taken place.

  Then Adam knew. It felt as though a hand had suddenly reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart. Yesterday, he'd overheard Warren tell Jake to move Lucifer to the north pasture. The same pasture where Blair was picking flowers!

  Not wanting to frighten her, he hurried to the end of the porch, cupped his hands around his mouth and called to her, "Blair, come here." He motioned with his hand.

  She raised her hand and waved. Even in the distance he could see her smile. "In a few minutes, I am almost through."

  "No, come on, now!" he shouted urgently, looking for the bull but not seeing him. That was little consolation, though; the pasture was big and it ran well into the dense brush and tree line. Lucifer could have been anywhere among the trees or brush. And Blair had no business being in the pasture with him; he had already killed one man.

 

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