by Janet Dailey
"I'll bet it would be." But Barbara doubted that she would ask Jock.
Mike glanced toward the arena and edged his horse toward the fence. "Hey, Jock!" he called him to the fence.
Jock trotted the gray toward the fence. Barbara felt his gaze touch her and flick to Todd before centering on Mike. "What is it, Mike?" he asked with seeming casualness.
"Vince dislocated his shoulder and can't ride in the team roping with me," Mike explained, and Barbara experienced a twinge of relief that he hadn't suggested Jock take her to see the roundup. "I wondered if you would be my partner."
"I'll see if I can't get someone to take over as timer for me on that event," Jock agreed after a brief hesitation.
"Great. Let me know," Mike nodded.
"I will." Jock let his gaze slide to Barbara. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Yes." She felt wary.
Todd spoke up. "Mike was just mentioning that you'd be rounding up calves over at Crosstimber."
"Yes, starting Monday," Jock admitted.
"I think Barbara would find it fascinating to watch," Todd explained.
"Yes." Jock gave her a considering look, his mouth twitching in what might have been a dry smile. "I'll see about making arrangements for you to come on Tuesday. Would that be all right?"
"If it's all right with Todd." Barbara shrugged, not endorsing the date nor the idea.
"Tuesday will be fine," Todd agreed. "You'd like to go, wouldn't you, Barbara?"
"Of course," she said because it was expected of her.
"Hey, Jock!" The other man who had been acting as judge with him waved to him. "They are ready to start the cutting competition."
"See you later." The encompassing phrase was issued before Jock pivoted the gray horse away from the rail.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BEFORE THE TEAM ROPING STARTED, Jock rode out of the arena and another man took his place to judge the event. As she realized that he would be competing, Barbara's interest in the event was increased. When the first team of two ropers entered the arena, she turned to Todd.
"What is the purpose of this event? Its practical use in ranching?" she questioned. "Why would a cowboy have to rope a full-grown steer? Obviously it would already have been branded as a calf?"
"Generally it's done to treat an injured or sick animal. Sometimes it's referred to as 'heading and heeling' because one rider ropes the horns or the cow's head and the second rider catches the hind feet in his loop. The steer is stretched between them till he goes down so he can be treated," Todd explained.
The first pair of ropers in the event ended up with no time when the second roper failed to catch the hind legs. "It's tricky," was Todd's comment.
When Mike Turbot and Jock rode into the arena, Barbara could feel the change in the atmosphere. There was more than ordinary interest from the onlookers who worked for the man about to compete. The big gray horse seemed aware of the change, too. It sidestepped into the arena, almost galloping in place, its neck arched, all coiled speed waiting to be released.
The steer was in the chute. Jock backed the gray into the boxed opening on the right of the chute and Mike put his horse in the left. The chute gate sprang up, releasing the steer. The animal had a length's head start before the two riders bounded after it. Within two strides, Mike was swinging his lariat and tossing it over the steer's horns. He dallied the rope around his saddle horn, turning his horse and pulling the steer around to offer the hindquarters to Jock's rope. His loop snaked low to the ground and was jerked tight above the steer's hind hooves. In the blink of an eye the steer was on the ground, the ropes taut on either side. The time was lightning fast.
There was no applause as the two men rode out of the arena. A couple of people shouted their approval. But there was a look Barbara noticed in the eyes of the cowboys, a gleam of respect when they glanced at their boss.
"Great job. You've done it again, J.R." There wasn't a trace of envy in Todd's voice as he congratulated his brother. "I'll make a side bet with you that you just posted the winning time."
"I won't bet," Jock refused, but inner satisfaction was written in his features. The gray horse tossed its head, rolling out a snort, as it paused near Todd and Barbara.
Mike stopped alongside of him. "You had that loop around the steer's hind feet before I even had it turned properly. That was some roping, boss."
"Give some credit to Ghost." Jock patted the arched neck of his horse. "He put me in position to make the throw."
"Yeah, and you trained him," Mike stated and moved off with a wry shake of his head. "A good horse just makes a good cowboy look even better."
The praise seemed to tighten Jock's features. Barbara sensed he didn't like it whether it was earned or not. It made him uncomfortable, because of his position as owner, she supposed. Jock's finger touched his hat before he pivoted the gray horse toward the collection of horse trailers.
Another team of ropers entered the arena and Barbara turned absently to watch them. But her mind was on the man astride the gray horse. Even when she was determined not to think about him, she did.
Before the event was over, Todd asked, "Did you want to ride the horses back? I can borrow Ramon's truck if you want to go back to the house and change before everyone arrives for the party."
"What about the horses?" she inquired with a frown.
"We can send them back in one of the horse trailers. Mike will look after them. If we ride them, it will take longer."
He seemed to think that was a concern. Barbara wasn't looking forward to the engagement party all that eagerly. She didn't object to being late, but obviously Todd did.
"Maybe you should ask Ramon if we could use his truck, then," she said.
"Wait here while I find him." He pressed a kiss to her temple before leaving.
Barbara turned back to watch the rest of the team-roping event. Mike and Jock were the winners when all the times were in. Todd still hadn't come back for her when the next event started. When Mike rode by, Barbara stopped him.
"Have you seen Todd?"
"Yeah, he was over by Ramon's pickup." Mike pointed. "It's that blue one behind the red and white horse trailer."
"I see it. Thanks." She started off toward it.
She had to zigzag around trucks and trailers, dodging horses and riders along the way. It was an obstacle course, she decided when she stopped to let one horse pass in front of her while another walked behind her. Intent on avoiding what was ahead of her, Barbara didn't notice the gray horse approaching from behind.
"Todd is looking for you," Jock announced, causing Barbara to start in surprise.
"Where is he?" Her glance ricocheted from his mocking features to search the crowd of faces. "He went to borrow Ramon's truck so we could leave and I—" The gray horse was maneuvered in front of her to block her path.
"Hop on and I'll take you to him." Jock stretched an arm down to help her swing into the saddle behind him.
She didn't want to be that close to him. "No, thanks. I'll walk. Just tell me where Todd is."
"He's over by Ramon's truck, but it will be easier—and safer—to ride. There are a lot of horses, hooves to dodge."
But Barbara ignored his suggestion and ducked under the muscled neck of the gray horse to continue in the direction of the blue pickup. She had taken three steps when an arm hooked her waist and she was scooped off the ground. Barbara struggled angrily as Jock sat her on the front of the saddle.
"Put me down, you big ape!" she ordered, unaware of how loud her voice was until she heard two cowboys chuckling.
"Got trouble, boss?" one called.
And Barbara crimsoned, flashing a resentful glance at Jock's mocking countenance so close to her own. His arm circled her waist so tightly that her shoulder was wedged against the unyielding wall of his chest. There was a smile on his mouth but not in his eyes.
"How about this, boys?" he responded to their comment. "I come riding up on an almost white horse and plan to carry off a beaut
iful lady into the night—and this is what happens."
"You take me to Todd," she hissed.
"I said I would," Jock reminded her in a voice as low as hers had been.
She felt the gray horse bunch its muscled hindquarters at the touch of Jock's heel. It gave a little jump forward before a check of the reins slowed it to a quick-stepping walk. Barbara held herself rigid in Jock's tight hold. But she wasn't in a position to balance herself and had to rely on his support to keep her on the horse. She forced her gaze to the front, looking for Todd, but with each breath she took, her senses were filled with drugging scents of Jock, spicy and male. She almost didn't see Todd standing beside the blue truck.
"There you are." Todd walked forward when Jock stopped the horse and lifted Barbara from the saddle. "Thanks, J.R."
"See you at the house." The silent promise of that statement was in the look he let linger on Barbara before turning the big gray gelding away from the truck.
Barbara tried to pretend that the look held no significance and turned to Todd. "What was the problem?"
"What problem?" His expression was blank.
"I waited for you, but you didn't come back."
"No, I sent J.R. to get you. It was a lot safer on horseback to get through this jam of horses and trailers. Weren't you at the gate when he found you?" Todd asked.
"No, I'd come looking for you. I didn't realize you had sent Jock for me," Barbara said with a trace of irritation.
Todd opened the passenger door of the truck cab for her "Why? Does it matter?"
"I just wish you hadn't sent Jock for me, that's all," she said impatiently.
"He hasn't been bothering you lately, has he?" Todd frowned.
Only when you aren't around. But she didn't say that. "I just wish you hadn't sent him, that's all," she repeated.
Todd walked around the front of the truck and slid behind the wheel. "You might as well get used to his being around, Barbara," he said firmly. "You'll see a lot of him once we're married."
"Not if Jock has his way," she murmured.
"His way about what? Seeing us or getting married?"
"Either one." Barbara shrugged, not wanting to continue the conversation, and Todd let it drop.
The truck made the drive to the main house seem relatively short. The sky was golden with a lingering sunset when Todd stopped in front of the hacienda-style building. Climbing out of the cab unassisted, Barbara hurried into the courtyard. Through the arched openings leading to the veranda she saw Lillian Gaynor setting a platter on a buffet table that had been set up to hold the food. The woman glanced up at the sound of Barbara's footsteps in the courtyard.
"You're back. How was the competition? Did you enjoy it?"
"Yes, it was fun," Barbara replied. "I'm going upstairs to wash off this arena dust and change clothes, then I'll be down to help you."
"Don't rush. Antonia and I have just about everything done. Besides, this is the groom's party. The prospective bride doesn't have to worry about all the refreshments. So take your time," Lillian insisted, then added, "Oh, dress casually. Most everyone will come as they are from the arena."
"Okay. Thanks for the warning." Barbara hurried toward the double-door entrance to the foyer, and its stairwell.
While she was in her room washing and changing, she heard the sounds of trucks and cars driving up, doors slamming, and a multitude of voices congregating on the veranda. Taking Lillian's advice, Barbara changed into a simple white peasant blouse, pulling the elasticized neckline over her shoulders and wearing a plain wraparound skirt of red cotton with it.
The party seemed to be in full swing when she stepped onto the veranda. Built-in speakers piped music outside from the entertainment center in the house. The guests were all talking and laughing with either a plate of food in their hands or a beer. Todd appeared almost instantly at her side to take her in hand.
"Are you hungry?" He led her toward the buffet table, mounded with platters of sandwiches, cheeses, fruits, hot hors d'oeuvres and chips.
"Not very." She shook her head.
"Want something to drink? We have a couple of kegs of beer and some punch. I have to warn you somebody spiked the punch very generously. If you drink any of it, be warned," he chuckled.
"No iced tea, I suppose," Barbara said with a mock sigh.
"Hey, this is supposed to be a celebration," he chided her playfully. "Some punch for the lady," he ordered and Barbara found a glass cup being forced into her hand. Todd bent toward her and whispered again, "Be warned."
She took a tentative sip and felt the fire in her throat. "It is strong," she agreed, unable to stop a coughing protest.
"You can carry it around with you all night. No one will notice if you don't drink it." Todd grinned and linked his arm in hers. "Come on. I think we'd better circulate. This is a friendly group. I don't know what you've heard about cowboys, but this bunch loves to dance. Most of them are pretty good so you won't have to worry about smashed toes."
Todd's information proved to be correct on all counts. It was a very friendly and open crowd. Barbara found it easy to talk and laugh with them. No one noticed that all she did was moisten her lips with the potent drink in her glass cup without the liquid ever depreciating any great amount. Mike Turbot was the first to come up and ask her to dance. When she proved to be a willing partner, it seemed to break the ice and she was inundated with invitations.
Slow dances, fast dances and the in-between tempos—she danced them all. Her partners were young cowboys, old ones and middle-aged. Barbara was half-convinced that every man at the party was determined to dance with Todd's future bride. It became impossible to refuse anyone for fear of offending him. Besides, Barbara couldn't remember the last time she had danced so much, and she was having fun.
The song ended and she thanked her partner, a young fresh-faced cowboy whose name she couldn't remember. As she paused for a breath while the record changed, a hand tapped her shoulder. Barbara turned with a start, half expecting to find Jock confronting her. She had seen him on the fringes of several groups all evening but so far hadn't encountered him.
"Ramon," she laughed in relief.
"If the next song is a slow one, may I have this dance?" he asked with a formal little bow. "I don't have the wind anymore for the faster songs."
"I would be delighted," Barbara agreed with a slight curtsy.
A hand gripped the curve of her waist from behind. "Sorry, Ramon," Jock said without apology. "But I'm claiming a prior right to this dance." He was already turning her into his arms as he spoke.
"Oh, but—" Barbara tried to protest, looking frantically over her shoulder at Ramon.
"It is all right. I will wait until later," he assured her and turned away.
With that excuse gone, Barbara had to seek hurriedly for another. At the same time, she made the discomfiting discovery that Jock had both arms around her waist, his large hands splayed over the small of her back. She had no place for her own hands but his chest, and the lower half of her body was being molded to his.
"I'd really rather sit this dance out," she said nervously, staring at the buttons on his shirt.
"Would you? Why?" His drawling tone indicated that he knew the reason: he disturbed her too much.
"I'm tired. I've been dancing practically every dance. I'd like to catch my breath." It sounded reasonable to Barbara.
"You were willing enough to dance when Ramon asked you," Jock reminded her with infuriating mockery, knowing it was a vital point she had overlooked in her search for an excuse. "Since you are tired, we won't move around too much. You are free to lean on me if your feet hurt."
"No, thank you." The stilted little refusal sounded ridiculous even to her own ears, so prudishly silly and absurd.
The way their bodies were swaying together, so exactly in unison with each other and the tempo of the slow music, sounded more alarm bells in her head. She flattened her hands against his chest, trying to wedge more space between them, but he
r action only curved her hips more fully against the rippling muscles in his thighs. Although they were barely moving, Barbara discovered that they were in the more shadowed area of the veranda, away from the lanterns strung near the buffet tables. She stopped straining away from his chest since it was only creating a worse disturbance. The warmth of his breath stirred her hair.
"With all that creamy skin in view, I'm surprised somebody hasn't taken a bite out of you," Jock murmured and bent his head toward a bare shoulder. "I'm surprised they could resist."
Barbara wiggled in protest, but she couldn't stop him from nibbling at the base of her neck. "Not everyone is as cannibalistic as you are, Jock." She tried to sound angry, but it was difficult with a quiver of excitement racing over her skin.
"They don't know what they're missing." His firm lips formed the words against her neck, continuing his exploration with bold unconcern.
"Jock, stop it." Barbara squirmed uncomfortably, liking what he was doing and afraid of it at the same time. "Somebody might see you. What would they think?"
"That I'm making time with my brother's fiancée," he laughed softly against her skin. "Which is precisely what I'm doing. But keep pretending to struggle and they'll think you are just trying to avoid an embarrassing scene."
He nipped at her earlobe and Barbara shuddered against him. "Don't do this, please."
With a sudden, twisting turn, Jock maneuvered her behind an arch where curious eyes couldn't see them. He leaned against the concrete support, pulled her hard into his arms and covered her lips with a hungry, burning kiss. It happened so fast Barbara had no warning and her response was purely instinctive. Her hands glided around his neck while he pressed her malleable form to the hard contours of his length. It was a wild, crazy insanity that claimed them both, but Barbara thrilled to it.
Until Lillian's voice gasped a shocked, "Jock, what are you doing?"
The demand ripped the kiss apart. Too shaken to move, Barbara hid her reddening face in Jock's shadow, averted from the gentle woman she had grown to like. Her fingers were slow to unclasp themselves from around his neck, like child's hands guiltily inching away from a cookie jar.