Love a Dark Rider

by Shirlee Busbee

  "Oh, Hyrum, what are we going to do? She married him!" Ann cried despairingly, her voice carrying with embarrassing clarity to Sara. "Knowing what a virile beast Yancy probably is, she could be pregnant already!"

  "It doesn't matter! We'll just have to forget our plans about Casa Paloma." Hyrum kissed Ann again, then implored passionately, "Come away with me, Ann, now I know I can't give you the life you were used to, but I'll take care of you—I swear it!"

  "And how will you do that? The South has been destroyed. There aren't many jobs." Ann sighed. "Oh, I know you'll think of something, darling! You won't fail me!"

  "For the time being, perhaps it won't be so bad, here at del Sol," Hyrum said slowly. "After all, didn't you say that Yancy has agreed to give you and your husband a small place in the village? That could be a start."

  Ann pouted. "And will you be happy with that arrangement?"

  "Probably not for long, but we'll just have to see how things go."

  They kissed each other again, moving further into the concealing thicket. From the way their hands were roaming over each other, it was obvious that they were going to make love, and deciding that she'd rather be discovered right now rather than be forced to remain here and witness their intimate joining, Sara took a chance that they were too involved in each other to notice anything else and began a stealthy retreat from the area. The far-

  ther away from them she got, the swifter she moved, and by the time she had reached the edge of the orange grove, she was fairly running.

  Once in the sanctuary of the hacienda courtyard, she sank down breathlessly on the rim of the fountain and stared sightlessly at the red-and-golden flashes of the fish. Ann and Hyrum were lovers But how could that be, she wondered blankly, if Yancy had been Ann's lover? At least wasn't that what the other woman had intimated only yesterday, before she had gone to great pains to make certain that Yancy had been found in a compromising position? Was Ann involved intimately with two men? Three, counting her husband, Tom Shelldrake?

  Agitated and deeply disturbed by what she had discovered, Sara tried to get her tumbled thoughts into some sort of order. Nothing made sense! Not Ann's supposed involvement with Yancy, nor Hyrum's previous actions. Why would Hyrum ask her to marry him if he were in love with Ann Shelldrake? Did he know about Yancy and Ann? Or were Ann's implications about Yancy a total lie? Sara sincerely hoped so! And for how long was Ann willing to make a cuckold of her husband? Had she and Hyrum been planning, if events moved to their liking, for him to marry her and thus to gain a certain control of Casa Paloma, and she and Tom Shelldrake would be duped together? The entire notion left a decidedly nasty taste in Sara's mouth.

  She wasn't so surprised by Ann's part in the adulterous liaison—after all, wasn't Ann Margaret's sister? But Hyruml He had claimed to love her! Had begged her to marry him! And she had believed him and felt sorry for him! Lying bastard!

  Sara had often prided herself on being a good judge of character, and now it seemed that two people with whom she had lived in close proximity for quite some

  time had totally deceived her. If she had not seen them together, she would never have believed that there was anything going on between them. They had totally fooled her. Her confidence in herself shaken, she sat there staring dully at nothing. Who else, she wondered uneasily, had she misjudged? Bartholomew? Tansy? Yancy?

  "Ah, here you are, my dear," said Tom Shelldrake as he walked over to where she sat.

  With the memory of how they had last parted fresh in her mind and with the knowledge of what his wife was doing right now with Hyrum, Sara was distinctly uncomfortable greeting Tom. She forced herself to smile and said politely, "Good morning. How are you today?"

  Tom settled himself carefully on the rim of the fountain and absently rubbed his bad arm through the sling in which it rested. "Feeling very guilty and remorseful, my child," he said heavily. "I had no right to speak to you the way I did the other day and I apologize." He sent her a wry look. "I'm afraid that my dependent state has made me rather defensive and inclined to view any changes with a jaundiced eye. I should never have said the things that I did or made such wild accusations. As you said, anyone could have killed Margaret—I should never have vented my unfounded suspicions on Yancy. I hope you will forgive me."

  It was a handsome apology, and since Tom Shelldrake had always been a favorite of hers, Sara was suddenly glad not to be on the outs with him. She flashed him a warm smile. "Oh, Tom! I am so relieved—we have been through a lot together, and I didn't like to think that we had finally come to a parting of the ways."

  Tom smiled bitterly. "Hardly, my dear, when I am dependent upon you and your husband for every morsel of food I eat."

  "Oh, please, don't feel that way! If positions were reversed, I'm sure you would do the same for us."

  "Perhaps so. Perhaps so. But come, now, don't let us talk about unpleasant things. Let me instead congratulate you on your marriage and tell you that I thought you made an exceedingly lovely bride yesterday." Tom got a faraway look in his eyes. "You know," he said slowly, "I can't help but feel that this is exactly what Sam planned to happen. Why else would he have left you Casa Paloma in such a ridiculous manner?"

  Sara grimaced. "Could we please not talk about that either?"

  Tom laughed. "Of course! What shall we talk about? Did your husband tell you about the house? The one for Ann and me?"

  Before Sara had seen Hyrum and Ann locked in their torrid embrace, the mention of the house for the Shelldrakes would have caused her much pain, recalling as it did the unpleasant scene yesterday in Ann's room, but now Sara was almost certain that what she had seen yesterday was precisely what it had appeared to be: Ann, rather effusively, she would admit, thanking Yancy for his kindness. That Ann had also been gambling on Sara's interpreting the scene differently and reacting as she had was also probably part of Ann's conniving. Once again Sara hoped fervently that it was so. It was still a touchy subject with her, though, but she was grateful to Tom for trying to ease the constraint between them, and she said easily, "No. Tell me about it!"

  They chatted amiably for several minutes and by the time Maria appeared to inquire if they wished to eat a light luncheon here or in the dining room, Tom and Sara were once again on the friendliest of terms. Ann joined them shortly in the dining room and Sara wondered if she was the only one who noticed that Ann's hair was slightly rumpled and that her gown was creased more than it should have been. Listening to Ann talk sweetly to her husband made Sara's stomach roil with distaste, and just

  as soon as she could, she escaped from their presence.

  It was siesta time, and having grown used to the quiet hours of rest and repose during the heat of the day, Sara returned eagerly to her rooms. Shutting the door behind her, mulling over what she had learned this morning, she had almost reached the bed before she was brought up short by the sight of Yancy lying there supine. His hands were behind his head, his feet were bare and crossed at the ankles and his bright blue chambray shirt was half open above his breeches. He looked like a big, deceptively lazy cat lounging there, and there was an expression on that darkly handsome face that made her heart begin to pound.

  "And did you enjoy your meal with the Shelldrakes?'* he asked lightly.

  Flustered by his unexpected presence—he'd never returned to the hacienda in the middle of the day before— Sara replied inanely, "Oh, yes. It was quite tasty. Maria's mother is an excellent cook."

  Yancy smiled and something in that smile made Sara's heart beat even faster. His gaze roaming warmly over her face and slender body, he said softly, "And did you miss me this morning, sweet bride?"

  Sara's little nose went up in the air. "Should I have missed you this morning more than any other?" she asked loftily, wishing he didn't look so very appealing lying there on the bed with his black hair all tousled and a lazy gleam in his eyes.

  Yancy laughed and, catching her off guard—something he seemed to do with infuriating regularity— reached over an
d caught hold of her arm and jerked her onto the bed. Pulling her thrashing form half beneath him, he held her prisoner, and brushing a teasing kiss across her lips, he asked softly, "Have you forgotten that it was only yesterday that we were married? That this is our first morning as man and wife?"

  "N-n-no," Sara stammered, cursing her body for responding so instantly and violently to his. Already, with just his barest touch, her nipples were hard and the beguiling heat of desire was stirring deep in her loins. "I didn't expect to see you until tonight."

  He kissed her with leisurely enjoyment, his hands framing her face. When his mouth finally left her throbbing lips, he said thickly, "Mmm, I would be a very poor bridegroom if I deserted you so summarily ... and you haven't answered my question. Did you miss me?"

  His mouth was too temptingly close and Sara was drowning in the sensual emotions he had stirred to a fiery pitch by his long, drugging kiss. Before she could prevent herself, her arms closed around his neck and she whispered against his warm lips, "You're an arrogant, overbearing wretch and you don't deserve to be missed ... but yes, I did miss you!"

  "And I, preciosa, I missed you like the very devil!" Yancy confessed fiercely and kissed her again with a blatant hunger he did nothing to hide or control, his hands impatiently seeking her soft breasts, his body moving more intimately into hers. Possessed by the same carnal demon that rode him, Sara joined him in the frantic disposal of their clothing, and their combined sighs of satisfaction hung on the air when at last they lay naked in each other's arms. All through the long, drowsy hours of the siesta, Yancy made love to his bride, teaching her that passion once loosed was an insatiable beast, one that needed frequent feeding....

  It was late in the afternoon when Yancy finally rose from their bed. Oblivious of his nakedness, he walked over to a marble-topped washstand, then, returning with a china bowl of water and a soft rag, proceeded to wash away all traces of his lovemaking from Sara's aching-ly satisfied body. Her heart melting with love for him, Sara stared at his dark, arrogantly chiseled features as

  he concentrated intently on his task, long, curling lashes brushing against his lean cheeks, a frankly sensual smile curving his mouth.

  Only when she was tingling from his tender ministrations did he rise and, after a brief wash of his own, shrug into his discarded clothing. Thumbs hooked in the gun belt around his waist, he regarded Sara, a savagely possessive emotion gleamed in the depths of his eyes and Sara was instantly aware of her nakedness. Suddenly shy, she grabbed at the sheet and pulled it up over her body.

  "There is much that I have to do before the fall, and I can't give you the traditional honeymoon trip," he said abruptly, "but I've thought of a way that I can combine my work with something that you might like also. Since you seem so enamored of Casa Paloma, I've wondered if you might like to spend some time there."

  Sara's eyes grew very big and her lips parted in surprise. Remembering how he had been so determined for her not to go to Casa Paloma and had told her hideous tales of its probable condition, she regarded him with suspicion. "Why should I? Won't it fall down around my ears? Isn't that what you claimed just a short while ago?"

  "No, I said that it would take a great deal of capital to put it in order—money that you didn't have and don't have now," he said gently. A smug look crossed his face. "/, on the other hand, have a lot of money and if I wish to spend it refurbishing the place for my bride, don't you think that's vastly different from your goose-brained scheme?"

  Her mouth tightened with temper. "And how do you know my schemes were so goose-brained? You never knew what I planned to do!"

  His eyebrows rose. "All right, chica, I'm asking you

  now—what precisely did you plan to do to make the place pay?"

  For just a moment Sara's confidence in her original plans faltered and she glanced uncertainly at him. If he laughed at her or made fun of her plans, she'd kill him! Her chin held at a pugnacious angle, she said stoutly, "I intended to raise cattle," and at Yancy's derisive smile, she added quickly, ''Not just any cattle—not just for hides and tallow, as is done now, but for beef The East is meat-hungry, and I had planned to supply it with a source of cheap, plentiful beef."

  His smile not quite so derisive anymore, Yancy stared intently at her. "And just how did you plan to do that?"

  Emboldened by his not-M/iencouraging manner, she said breathlessly, "I was going to import a good blooded Durham bull, maybe two if I could afford it, and cross them with the wild longhoms! And, I had planned to buy a blooded stallion, too! A thoroughbred to cross with the mustangs, to breed a horse with some size and more refinement, yet keep the best qualities of the mustang— toughness and stamina. I had it all pleuined, and Hyrum was going to run the place for me and help with the breeding programs." Her green eyes bright with enthusiasm, she stated brashly, "It would have worked, too! I know it! I might not have made a fortune at once, but eventually, in four or five years, I'd have started to get a return on my investment." Her hands curled into formidable little fists, she said vehemently, "I wouldn't have failed—I would have succeeded!"

  An arrested expression in his eyes, Yancy looked at her for several excruciatingly long seconds. Angry at herself for desperately wanting his approval, yet unable to help herself, Sara stared back at him, willing him to at least consider the idea. From the look on his face, it was obvious that he wasn't going to dismiss her plans outright; it appeared that, while she had presented him

  with something he had never thought of, he was actually mulling the idea over in his mind, and a bubble of excitement welled up in her chest.

  Thoughtfully rubbing his chin with his hand, Yancy murmured, "A Durham bull . .. and a thoroughbred stallion." Something perilously close to respect glittering in the depths of his eyes, he drawled, "Well, well, it seems that I have acquired not only a sweet bedmate, but perhaps a hardheaded business partner as well."

  Sara gasped with pleasure and her eyes were huge with dazed delight as she stared at his dark face, hardly daring to believe what she thought he was implying. Yancy smiled at her and said gently, "You shall have your Durham bulls—a half dozen, I think, to start with, if we are going to do this on a grand scale. I shall have my business man in New Orleans start making inquiries, but you shall make the final selection, and as for the stallion . . ." He grinned at Sara's dazzled expression. "Shall we start with three? I trust that you will allow me to make those choices?"

  Sara licked her lips. "Black," she said firmly. "They have to be black, but other than that. . ."

  Yancy bowed gallantly, a half smile quirking his lips. "Of course. Black. Anything else?"

  A smile on her face which made him blink at its blinding jubilation, she slowly shook her head. "No—other than that you'll have to start culling and castrating as many of the wild bulls as we can catch right away." Tapping a finger thoughtfully on her lips, she added, "And, of course, you'll have to start planning the trail drive for later this summer. We should be able to sell enough of the wild cattle to offset at least some of the costs of the Durham bulls."

  He blinked again. His demure bride certainly had thought this out! "Of course. Cull and castrate. Plan trail drive."

  She frowned slightly. "And you'll have to start gathering suitable mustang mares for breeding next year. We'll have to corral them now, before they are rebred by the wild stallions, then next spring start breeding them to the thoroughbred stallions."

  "Of course," he agreed dazedly. "Corral mustang mares."

  Sara smiled sunnily up into his bemused features. "I think that ought to cover just about everything for now, don't you?"

  He nodded his head. "Oh, yes, I think you've thought of just about everything—you will, however, let me make arrangements for the trip to Casa Paloma?" At Sara's gracious assent, he said, "I'll send a group ahead with most of the supplies and have them clean out several rooms for our use." He grinned at her. "And have them make certain that no walls come tumbling down around your sweet ears!"

&nbs
p; They smiled at each other idiotically for several minutes and then gradually their smiles faded and some powerful, fierce emotion seemed to brew between them. Yancy took a step toward her; Sara leaned in his direction—

  The rap on the door shattered the intensity of the moment, and Sara jumped. Yancy shook himself as if surfacing from a deep enchantment. Never taking his gaze off Sara, he called out, "Who is it?"

  "Bartholomew," came the reply, and at Yancy's command to enter, Bartholomew walked in, several men's garments folded over his arm.

  Seeing Sara lying on the bed, a sheet her only covering and her hair tumbling in wild disarray around her flushed features, he stopped uncertainly and cleared his throat. "Ah, I didn't realize ... I can return with these things later."

  Yancy shook his head. "You didn't interrupt any-

  thing/' He smiled wickedly, his white teeth flashing in his bronzed face. "At least not this time." He saw Sara sink deeper into the bed with mortification, and amusement danced in his eyes as he laughed out loud. "Ignore my shy bride and go ahead and put those things away."

  Sending Sara a commiserating glance, Bartholomew said with affectionate censure in his voice, "Madam, there is no need to be embarrassed by his vulgarity. You will soon learn that Mr. Yancy takes great delight in saying the most shameful things!"

  Yancy only grinned, a mocking light in his eyes as he surveyed the pair of them. "At least, at the moment I'm only saying them!"

  Bartholomew threw him a reproving look and proceeded to walk over to the huge mahogany wardrobe that sat against one wall. Opening the doors, he began to carefully hang the various garments, as if his chore were the most fascinating task in the world.

  Sara watched him, her thoughts jostling themselves merrily through her brain. She would have her Durham bull. And the thoroughbred stallion. And Yancy was taking her to Paloma!