Abruptly Honey sat up, sloshing water over the edge of the tub. Her eyes flew open and she looked around her. Her daydreams had seemed so real. For a moment it had seemed as though that man was here. In her tub. With her. His hands-never mind where his hands had been! And his mouth- Honey shivered in reaction to the vivid pictures her mind had painted.
"Horsefeathers!" she muttered.
Honey lunged up, splashing water on the floor, and grabbed for a terry cloth towel. She wrapped herself in it, then reached down to pull the plug. And felt a spurt of guilt. The water heater would fill the tub once-but not twice. Her remorse didn't last long, and a smile slowly appeared on her face. Jesse Whitelaw could stand to cool off a little. A nice cold bath ought to help him along.
Honey was in her bedroom and had almost finished dressing when Jesse knocked at her door.
"Hey, there's no shower in that bathroom," he said.
"I know." Honey tried to keep the grin out of her voice.
He muttered something crude under his breath, then said, "Where are the towels?"
"The linens on the rack in the bathroom are yours to use."
Honey heard the water run for a short while, then stop. She left her bedroom and stood outside the bathroom door listening. There was a long silence, followed by a male yelp and frantic splashing. "This water's like ice!" he bellowed.
"I know," she said loud enough to be heard through the door. By now her grin was huge.
Jesse muttered again.
'Tm going downstairs to fix some dinner for Jack and Jonathan. Enjoy your bath."
Her laughter followed her down the stairs.
Jesse shivered, but not from the cold. It was the first time he'd heard Honey laugh, and the sound skittered down his spine. His lips curled ruefully. At least now he knew she had a sense of humor.
He soaped a rag and washed himself vigorously, as though that could obliterate his thoughts of her. But Honey Farrell had gotten under his skin. Every breath he took filled his lungs with the honeysuckle scent she had bathed in. Everywhere he looked there were reminders that he had invaded her feminine domain.
The pedestal sink was cluttered on top with all sorts of female paraphernalia-powder and lipstick and deodorant and suchlike-except where she had cleared a tiny space for his things.
Jesse cursed a blue streak as he rinsed himself with the icy water, then grabbed a towel and stepped out onto the deepest pile rug he had ever felt beneath his feet. It was decorated with whimsical daisies-as was the towel he had wrapped around his hips. If his brothers could see him now, they would rib him up one side and down the other.
He quickly pulled on clean briefs and jeans, then slung the towel around his neck while he shaved. He debated whether to leave his straight edge razor and strop in the bathroom, then decided that as long as she had left the space for him, he might as well use it. When he saw his things beside hers, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. It was as though an unfinished picture had been completed.
He spread the damp towel over the rack and put on the shirt he had brought into the bathroom with him. He had hoped the steam from a hot shower would ease some of the wrinkles out of it. Since he'd ended up taking a cold bath, he had no choice except to shrug into the wrinkled shirt.
Jesse started to borrow Honey's hairbrush but changed his mind and finger-combed his hair instead. It would hang straight once it dried no matter what he did with it now.
Jesse came down the stairs quietly and stood at the kitchen door undetected by the trio at the table. Honey was serving up her younger son's dinner. Her face was rosy, probably from all that hot water she'd bathed in, he thought with a silent chuckle. He was glad to see she wasn't wearing black again, but he thought the pale green was wrong for her.
She ought to be wearing vivid colors-reds and royal blues-that were as full of life as she was. He liked the way the dress clung to her figure, outlining her breasts and defining her slim waist and hips. She looked very much like a woman, and he felt the blood surge in his loins at the sight of her.
He watched unnoticed as Honey brushed a lock of hair off Jonathan's forehead. She put a hand on Jack's shoulder as she set the salt and pepper before him. Then she found another reason to touch Jonathan. Jesse wondered if Honey had any idea what she was doing. He felt his body tauten with the thought of her touching him like that.
Jesse's family members were fiercely loyal to each other, but they weren't much for touching. He could count on one hand the number of times his mother had caressed him in any way. He hadn't realized until now just how needful he was of Honey's touch and the feel of her hands on his body.
"Oh, there you are!" Honey froze with her hand outstretched for the butter dish. She wondered how long Jesse had been standing there. He had a way of watching her that she found totally unnerving. His dark, hooded gaze revealed a hunger that took her breath away, but there was a yearning, almost wistful expression in his eyes as well.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
Honey took a good look at what the hired hand was wearing and frowned. She wondered what kind of life Jesse Whitelaw had led when this was all he had to wear to dinner. His jeans were clean but worn white at the stress points and seams. The faded western shirt was frayed at collar and cuffs and badly creased. His leather belt was dark with age and had a shiny silver buckle she felt sure he had earned as a prize at some rodeo. He wore the same tooled black leather boots he had worn all day; the scuff marks showed the hard use they'd had.
She almost offered to iron his shirt, then changed her mind. Somehow she knew he wouldn't appreciate the suggestion. Besides, if he had really been concerned about his appearance, he could have asked for the iron himself. "I'm ready anytime you are," she said.
The ride to Dallas 's place in Jesse's pickup truck-which was barely two years old and in surprisingly good shape compared to his clothing-took barely an hour. Because of the long, uncomfortable silences between inane bits of conversation, it felt a lot longer.
Even in the modern West, a man was still entitled to his privacy. Thus Honey didn't feel she could ask Jesse about himself. That left a myriad of other subjects, not one of which came readily to mind.
The silence was deafening by the time Jesse said, "How long have you known Dallas and Angel?"
Honey grabbed at the conversational gambit like a gambler for a deck of cards. "I met Dallas about four years ago when he and Cale started working together on assignments for the Texas Rangers. Dallas introduced me to Angel a little over a year ago, about the same time she and Dallas met each other."
"How did the two of them meet?" Jesse asked.
"You know, they never said. Every time I asked, Angel blushed and Dallas laughed and said, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'''
"How did you and that Philips guy meet?" Jesse asked.
That was more personal ground. Honey hesitated, then grinned and admitted, " Dallas invited me on a double date with Adam and Angel. By the end of the day, Dallas ended up with Angel, and Adam and I were a couple."
"How serious are things between you and Philips?"
Honey shot a quick look at Jesse, but his expression was bland. "I don't think that's any of your business."
"I think maybe it is."
"I can't imagine why-"
"Can't you?" His piercing gaze riveted her for a moment before he had to look at the road again.
Honey's pulse began to speed. She grasped at the opportunity to put the hired hand in his place once and for all. "Adam has asked me to marry him," she said.
A muscle jerked in Jesse's cheek. "You don't love him," he said curtly.
"You can't possibly know whether I love him or not."
He cocked a brow and his lips drew up cynically. "Can't I?"
Honey turned to stare out the window, avoiding his searching look.
"Are you going to marry him?"
"I-" Honey considered lying. Perhaps if she told Jesse she was committed to another man, he would leave her alone. But sh
e couldn't use Adam like that-simply to keep another man at arm's length. "No," she admitted.
"Good."
Nothing else passed between them for the few minutes it took to traverse the length of the road from the cattle guard at the entrance to Dallas 's ranch to the Victorian ranch house. At least, nothing in words. But Honey was aware of the portal the drifter had forced open between them.
"I won't ever hurt you," Jesse said in a quiet voice.
"You can, you know," she said in an equally quiet voice.
His lips flattened. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."
"Then leave me alone."
"I can't do that"
"Jesse…"
The Mastersons' porch light was on, and Jesse pulled the truck up well within its glow. He killed the engine and turned to look at Honey, "Is it your husband?" he asked bluntly.
Honey felt the pain that always came with memories of Cale. "Cale is dead."
"I know that. Do you?"
Honey gasped and turned to stare at Jesse. "What do you want from me?"
"More than it seems you're willing to give."
Jesse's sharp voice cut through her pain, and Honey realized she was angry. "You can hardly blame me," she said. "I'm not in a hurry to get my heart torn out again."
"Who says you have to?"
Honey snorted inelegantly. "That sounds pretty funny coming from a man like you. How many women have you loved and left, Jesse? How long should I plan on you hanging around? And what am I supposed to do when you're gone? I'd have to be a fool to get involved with you. And whatever else I might be, I'm no fool, I-"
Honey broke off when she saw Angel come running out onto the porch to greet them. She flashed Jesse a look of frustration and quickly stepped out of the truck and headed up the porch steps.
"It's good to see you again, Honey," Angel said as the two women hugged. She didn't offer her hand to the drifter and kept her distance.
" Dallas is putting the baby to bed. He'll be down in a minute. Won't you both come inside?"
She stepped away from Jesse and held the door. Honey saw the other woman actually shiver as Jesse passed by her. Honey wondered what it was about the drifter that caused Angel to shy away from him. Was it possible that Dallas had told her something about Jesse? Something sinister?
Honey shook her head and dismissed the possibility. She didn't know much about Jesse, but she didn't see him as a villainous figure. Probably there was something in Angel's own past that was causing her to react so strangely to Dallas 's friend.
Dallas had none of his wife's reservations. He greeted Jesse warmly and shook his hand. "I'm glad you could come on such short notice," Dallas said. "I thought maybe we could talk about old times, maybe get reacquainted. How are your brothers and your sister?"
Honey's eyes widened and she stared at Jesse as though she had never seen him before. "You have a family?"
Jesse grinned. "Two older brothers and a younger sister."
"Where?" Honey asked.
"At the family ranch, Hawk's Way, in northwest Texas near Palo Duro Canyon."
So, Jesse wasn't as much of a footloose drifter as he had led her to believe. He had some roots after all.
"Would anyone like something to drink?" Angel asked.
"Whiskey and water," Jesse said.
"Iced tea for me," Honey said.
" Dallas?"
' Til join Jesse and have a whiskey, but without the water, Angel."
Honey sat on the Victorian sofa and Dallas took the leather chair that was obviously his favorite spot in the living room. Jesse joined Honey on the narrow sofa. It barely held the two of them, and Jesse's jean-clad leg brushed against her as he sat down.
Honey jerked away, then looked up to see if Dallas had noticed her reaction. He had. He looked concerned, but Honey wasn't about to explain the sexually fraught situation to him. Honey grimaced and folded her hands together in her lap. It was going to be a long evening.
Or it might have been if Angel hadn't been there. Honey had always liked Angel and had an affinity with the other woman that she couldn't explain. She did her best throughout the spicy Mexican meal to focus her attention on Angel and ignore Jesse Whitelaw. She wasn't totally successful.
It bothered Honey that Angel never got over her odd behavior around Jesse. Angel never quite relaxed, and her eyes were wary every time she looked at him. In fact, it bothered Honey enough that she mentioned it when she and Angel went upstairs to check on the baby after supper, leaving the men to stack the dishes in the dishwasher.
"You don't seem to like Jesse Whitelaw," Honey said bluntly.
Angel refused to meet her gaze, focusing instead on the baby sleeping in the crib. "It's not that I don't like him, it's just…"
"Just what? Has Dallas told you something about him? Something I should know?"
"Oh, no!" Angel reassured her. "It's nothing like that. It's just…"
Honey waited while Angel searched for the words to explain her aversion to the drifter.
"When I was much younger, I had a bad experience with some Indians." What Angel wasn't able to tell Honey was that she had seen the tortured remains of a Comanche raid in 1857. But no one except Dallas knew Angel had traveled through time to reach this century. So Angel was forced to explain how she felt without being able to give specific details.
"Whenever I look at Jesse," she said, "I see something in those dark eyes of his, something so savage, so feral, it reminds me of that time long ago. He terrifies me." Angel visibly shivered. "Aren't you afraid of him?".
"Sometimes," Honey admitted reluctantly. "But not in the way you are." Honey felt certain Jesse posed no physical threat to her. The wild, savage looks that frightened Angel only served to make Jesse more intriguing to her. ' 'I find him attractive," she confessed. And that was more frightening than anything else about the drifter that she might have admitted.
Their talking woke the baby, but Honey couldn't be sorry because she had been dying for a chance to hold the little boy.
"Aren't you a handsome boy, Rhett," Honey cooed as Angel laid the baby in her arms. "Can we take him downstairs?"
Angel seemed hesitant, but Honey urged, "Please?"
"All right." Angel had to face the fact that her fears of Jesse were misplaced in time. She might as well start now.
Dallas and Jesse stopped talking abruptly when the women came downstairs with the baby.
"Look," Honey said, holding Rhett so Jesse could see his face. "Isn't he something?"
Jesse wasn't looking at the child, he was looking at the glow on Honey's face. It was something, all right! She looked radiant and happier than he had ever seen her. He couldn't help imagining how she would look holding their child in her arms.
He frowned, wondering where that idea had come from. He wanted Honey, but babies had a way of tying a man down. Still, he considered the idea and felt things he hadn't anticipated. Pride. Protectiveness. And fear.
Was Honey still young enough to carry a child without any danger to her health? She didn't look over thirty, but he knew she had to be older because Jack was thirteen.
"How old were you when Jack was born?" Jesse asked.
Honey was surprised by the question. ' 'Eighteen. Cale and I married right out of high school."
That made her thirty-two. Three years younger than he was. Maybe the better question was whether he was too old to be a father. He hadn't realized until just now how much he wanted a child of his own someday. Maybe he'd better not put it off too much longer.
"Do you wish you had more children?" he asked Honey.
She never took her eyes off the baby's face. Jesse watched her ringers smooth over the tiny eyebrows, the plump cheeks, the rosy mouth and then touch the tiny fingertips that gripped her little ringer. "Oh, yes," she breathed.
She looked up at him and his heart leapt to his throat. Her eyes were liquid with feeling. Suddenly he wanted to be gone from here, to be alone with her.
Honey saw the fierc
e light in Jesse's eyes but knew she had nothing to fear. The fierceness thrilled her. The light drew her in and warmed her. Jesse Whitelaw was a danger to her, all right. But only because he had the power to steal her heart.
Honey was never sure later how they managed to take their leave so quickly, but she was grateful to be on her way home. In the darkness of the pickup cab she could hug her thoughts to herself. It was only after they had gone several miles that she thought to ask, "Did you tell Dallas about that suspicious man I saw on my property today?"
There was only the slightest hesitation before Jesse replied, "Yes. He said he'd look into it."
"Did you have a good time tonight?"
"I had forgotten how much Dallas and I have in common," he said.
"Oh?" She hadn't thought the two of them were much alike at all. "Like what?"
Jesse was quiet so long Honey didn't think he was going to answer. At last he said,' 'I can't think of any one thing. Just a feeling I had." He couldn't say more to Honey without raising questions that he wasn't prepared to answer.
"How did you like Angel?"
"Fine." When she wasn't cringing from me. He couldn't say that to Honey, either. He wasn't sure what it was about him that frightened Angel Masterson. He only knew she was terrified of him. His lip curled in disgust. She had probably heard stories about the savage Comanche. A hundred years ago his forebears had been savage. Perhaps Angel had been a victim of Co-manches in another life.
Jesse shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling he got when he remembered Angel's fear of him. There was something about her that bothered him as much as he bothered her. If he stuck around long enough, maybe someday he would find out what it was.
"Jesse? Is something wrong?"
He hadn't realized he was frowning until Honey spoke. He wiped the expression off his face and said, "No. I'm okay."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Why didn't you tell me you have a family?"
Jesse shrugged. "It didn't seem important."
Family not important? Honey shook her head in despair. Everything she learned about Jesse confirmed him as a loner. She had to stay away from him if she wanted to survive his eventual leave-taking heart-whole.
Honey and the Hired Hand Page 5