Finding a normal tone somewhere, he met her eyes again, then loaded up his fork. “I’m afraid I still don’t know what I’ve done to deserve all this special attention.”
Casey laughed and sampled her own pie. “Well, let’s see... does a manila envelope full of money ring any bells?”
Jess paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“I was surprised you didn’t give me a check, but cash is fine. Though I will stop at the bank and open an account the next time I’m in town. It’s probably not a good idea to have that kind of money lying around the house.”
Jess’s fantasy-fueled arousal slowly faded. He put down his fork. She’d found money? A great deal of money? But who—? His heart took off at a gallop. He didn’t want to be thinking what he was thinking. “May I see the envelope?”
Casey’s brow furrowed, a puzzled look in her eyes. “You want to see it?”
“Yes. Please.”
Jess watched the mind behind those blue eyes sort the facts, make deductions, then, finally, reach a conclusion. It took only a moment. “You didn’t put it on my bed, did you?”
“No. I didn’t.”
Nodding slowly, she dabbed her mouth with her napkin and rose. “I’ll be right back.”
When she laid the envelope on the table in front of him a minute later, Jess’s suspicions were confirmed. “Mrs. Marshall” was written on the outside of the envelope in Ross’s fancy, swirly hand.
“It was Ross, wasn’t it?” she asked quietly, standing over him. “He’s gambling again.”
Jess sighed raggedly, glanced inside, and nodded. He looked up at Casey. “How much is here?”
“Two thousand four hundred dollars.”
Swearing under his breath, Jess picked up the money and left.
Though the sun had set, streaking the sky with deep pinks and purples, the evening air remained heavy with the day’s residual heat. Hank Lewis was sitting on the weathered porch swing outside the bunkhouse when Jess got there, the grizzled old veteran braiding another fancy bridle for his horse. Hank’s arthritic fingers didn’t work as well as they used to, but he kept braiding and lacing, claiming that it “coaxed a little bit o’ limber” into his crooked joints.
“Ross around?” Jess asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.
Jess saw Hank note the thick envelope in his hand, then glance back up. “Yep. Just got outa the shower.”
“Got a big night planned, does he?”
But Hank only shrugged his shoulders, keeping his thoughts to himself, as always. Jess pushed through the screen door and saw Pruitt and Ross standing in the combination kitchen-living room, all duded up and ready for action. The cloying smell of Pruitt’s aftershave glutted the room. “Going somewhere?”
Ross’s gaze fell to the bundle Jess carried. Then he turned to Pruitt. “Maybe you should go on ahead. I’ll meet you there.” With a nod to Jess, Pruitt grabbed his hat and left, and Ross faced Jess squarely. “Okay, spit it out.”
Jess flashed the envelope in front of him. “What the hell is this?”
Ross looked at him with wide-eyed innocence. “Money?”
“Don’t be a wiseass. Where did it come from?”
Ross raised his voice belligerently. “I had some savings—”
“Don’t lie to me. I followed you down to Babylon last night. What the hell are you using for brains?”
“And what the hell are you climbing all over me for?” Ross yelled back. “I’m winning. I’m taking care of my mistake. There’s over two grand in that envelope!”
“Gambling money.”
“And it spends just as good as the money we get for cattle.” He sent Jess a challenging look. “Or did you come down here to give it back?”
“Not a chance. She’s keeping it. I came down here to try to talk some sense into you. Based on your history, I’m guessing you still have a few bucks left—another stake. Now, whether you keep it for yourself or give it to her, I don’t care. I just don’t want you taking it to Babylon. You were damn lucky last night.”
The headstrong look Jess had come to know too well rose in Ross’s eyes. “Like I said before, Jess, I screwed up. Now I’m gonna take care of my mistake and get her off our backs. I’m sorry if you can’t handle that.”
A nerve throbbed in Jess’s jaw. “And I’m sorry you’re going to get your butt kicked—or worse. You’re messing with the wrong people.”
“Yeah? Well, here’s a news flash for you—the ‘wrong people’ better look out for me. They haven’t been pulling in the big pots lately—I have.”
Jess got mad all over again. “Judas Priest, aren’t you bright enough to know when you’re being hustled? That kind of money doesn’t leave Babylon unless they think they’ll get it back in spades. Who took you down there? Pruitt?”
Ross glanced away uncomfortably and grabbed his hat. “If you’re through preaching, I’ve got an appointment.”
“Yeah, I’m through,” Jess said, turning away wearily. Ross was feeling invincible, and when he got like that there was no reasoning with him. He’d do what he wanted. “You’re on your own.”
“I know what I’m doing, Jess!” Ross called after him. “I’ll be okay!”
“Sure you will,” Jess muttered, and let the bunkhouse door slam behind him.
Old Hank had left his perch on the swing—probably for the tack room, where the only noise he’d have to deal with was his own low humming and an occasional stirring from the horses. Jess didn’t blame him. He was getting tired of all the shouting matches, too. Between Ross, Casey and himself, the past month had been one battle after another. And he no longer had the stomach for it. He needed some peace.
Casey was sitting on the top porch step when he got back, the painted skies of twilight ebbing, and darkness well on its way. He sighed, looking at her. She was going to get the seat of her pretty white shorts outfit dirty. He should have hung Lydia’s porch swing long before this, but he hadn’t given those little extra touches much thought since she left.
Still, Hank had a swing, and as hard as she worked, Casey deserved one, too.
There was concern in her voice as he climbed the porch steps and sank down beside her. She had a worried look on her face.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He put the manila envelope on the porch between them.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Jess shrugged and folded his hands loosely between the spread of his legs. After a moment, he said, “There’s a place called Babylon, about twenty miles from here. It’s a private club with an old West feel that caters to men who’re looking for something a little more...exotic...in their evenings. Pretty girls in garter belts and feathers in the front room...slick men with fast hands and faster cards in the back. That’s where your money came from.”
“I see.” Casey didn’t say anything more for a minute. Then she asked quietly, “So, what should I do with it?”
“Put it in the bank. As my fool of a brother just reminded me, gambling money’s worth just as much as the hard-earned variety. And I suspect he’s gone back tonight to try to get more for you.”
“That doesn’t sound like a wise move, considering your description of the place.”
“It’s not. Ross thinks he’s Lady Luck’s fair-haired boy right now. What he doesn’t realize is, they’re going to let him win for a while, then they’re going to clean him out. I just hope he doesn’t get himself hurt in the process.” Jess turned to her and sighed, meeting the caring in her eyes. “At this point, I’m glad you’re the one holding the paper on Broken straw.”
They were sitting close together, so close there was space enough only for the manila envelope between them. Casey reached over and took his right hand, lacing her fingers through his. So much turmoil, she thought, reading the pain beneath the frustration in his voice. So much anger and sadness at the same time. And she knew exactly how he felt, because she’d dealt with the same sense of disappointment and betrayal with Dane. She
looked up at Jess. Nothing had been easy for this man since she came to Montana.
“I’m really sorry about this,” she said quietly, meaning every word. “Especially since Ross is obviously doing this to pay me back.”
“Yeah, well, don’t even think about taking the blame for that. If his goal wasn’t paying you back, he’d justify his gambling some other way.”
The tiny hairs on Casey’s arms prickled as Jess lifted her hand, studying their interlocking fingers, sliding his thumb slowly along her index finger. His thumb was rough and callused, and the lazy stroking warmed her blood and set her nerve ends tingling, even though that probably wasn’t his intention. She almost pulled her hand away, but then she decided she could hardly do that after she’d put it there.
“Have...have you thought about getting your brother some help with his gambling problem?”
“I talked to him about it. He wasn’t very receptive.”
He was still stroking, and Casey found the action mesmerizing. “I could speak to him if you want.”
Jess shook his head and caught her gaze. “You’ve done enough. More than enough. Not everyone would have given us a two-year extension on that loan. Not to mention working the place with us. I can’t think of many women with your background who would have mucked out stables, and strung wire...put up with the smell of animals and manure.”
Casey tried to smile. There were a lot of things she could have said. Such as reminding him that she hadn’t always traveled in privileged circles. Or admitting that, while the work was hard, she didn’t mind it nearly as much as she’d thought she would.
But she was looking into the churning depths of his dark eyes, the sky was losing its luster, and the tantalizing smells of sage and summer were riding the night air with bewitching intent.
Jess’s expression sobered, and he drew a finger slowly along her cheek, then down a bit to trace her lower lip. “I like your smile,” he murmured. “You have a pretty mouth...pretty teeth.”
She tried to focus on the night songs of the crickets beneath the porch, the distant whinnies of the horses in the corral. But all she heard was the erratic sound of her own breathing, and Jess’s trembling exhalations beside her.
She felt the tension between them move to another level. “I—I should go back inside.”
Jess shook his head, his intense gaze telling her that this moment had been coming for a long time. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t do you any good,” he said quietly, as his left hand slid through her hair to cup the back of her neck. “I’d just come in after you.”
Casey put a hand to his chest as Jess’s head moved toward hers and his gaze fell to her lips. “Jess, no,” she whispered.
He paused, inches from her mouth, his warm breath bathing her lips and filling her nostrils with a scent that made her want to run. “Remember the first time you rode a Ferris wheel?” he asked.
“I was scared to death.”
“But you had to do it. Had to try it.”
“I...never wanted to ride again after that.”
Jess nodded, as though she’d made his point for him. “We’ve been trying to ignore the attraction between us for weeks, and it’s making us both crazy. We’re at each other all the time. Maybe...maybe it’s like the Ferris wheel. Once we finally take the plunge—get it out of our systems—all that curiosity and anticipation will go away.” His nose stroked hers, softly, faintly. “Maybe we won’t even like it.”
Casey felt that anxious quivering behind her navel, felt the raw curling of her nerve ends. She’d never experienced anything like this before, never known this combination of terror and desire over a simple kiss.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t wondered what it would be like,” he went on. “We’re alone in this house day after day...night after night.” Jess’s free hand found her rib cage, strong fingers moving, moving...stroking the white cotton fabric just below her breasts.
And suddenly she didn’t want to say no anymore. Casey tipped her mouth up to his. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes, I’ve wondered.”
Then her eyes closed and she immersed herself in his taste and his scent as Jess softly, unerringly sealed her mouth with his own. He kept it gentle, and Casey melted in his arms. No harm, no foul...just a simple, curiosity-settling kiss that meant nothing and hurt no one. Until she felt his tongue slide into her mouth and realized she wanted it there.
Casey eased away, her breathing too shaky for her own good, the low tug in her belly telling her it was time to go inside. “I—I think we’d better say good-night now.”
He asked why, in a voice that was as husky as hers. “Because now we have two kisses to ignore.”
Pulling her back into his arms, Jess murmured shakily, “I think you mean three.”
It was a lover’s kiss, deep and hungry. Then, suddenly, wild. Casey curled her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, opened her mouth to him and welcomed his tongue inside. She’d never felt anything like this before. Oh, yes, she’d wondered. Wondered when she saw his beautiful body prone on his bed—wondered when she saw him rub that old shirt over his sweat-slicked chest and flat belly. Wondered after that quick, hard kiss in the hall that had only hinted at the pleasure his mouth could create for her.
The kiss went on and, frustrated with their uncomfortable positions on the porch, Jess dragged her onto his lap. Her hip brushed his arousal, and he groaned. Mind spinning, Casey drank from his mouth again and again, caught up in a primitive need as her tongue met his, stroke for fiery stroke, in a frustrated imitation of lovemaking.
Jerking back abruptly, Casey gasped for air as that final thought gelled in her mind. Lovemaking? Good heavens, what was she doing? What were they doing? She was leaving in two months, going back to Chicago and her family and, hopefully, her nursing career. She couldn’t afford to get herself all charged up with “wonderings” and make a mess of her life she couldn’t fix. No matter how badly she wanted to continue. No matter how much she yearned to know what real lovemaking was—and she knew this man could show her. Because in four years of marriage, she’d never experienced this level of passion. Never known this shivery urgency to reach out and take what she craved.
Casey pried herself out of his arms and stood, then stepped up onto the porch and walked to the door. “I can’t do this, Jess.”
Jess rose, too, and came over to take her hand. “Hey,” he said softly. “It was just a kiss. Just a little Ferris wheel ride to get rid of some of the tension around here.”
“And did it? Relieve the tension?”
Jess seemed to consider her question for a moment, and then he shook his head, his dark gaze falling to her mouth again.
Casey swallowed. He was right. That kiss hadn’t satisfied their curiosity, it had only made them more eager to take the next step. Which made it imperative that they reestablish the unspoken ground rules they’d begun with. No touching, no kissing—and no “wondering,” because “wondering” was a first cousin to “doing.” She’d never had an affair in her life, and she wouldn’t start now. Especially since an affair with Jess would be based only on convenience and chemistry.
“Say something,” Casey prodded nervously. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Now that their ardor had cooled and sanity seemed to be making a shaky comeback, his dark eyes were troubled. “I’m thinking that...we liked the Ferris wheel.”
“We can’t.”
Jess walked over to pick up the manila envelope, then came back and placed it in her hands. “I know.”
Then they both went inside, Jess ambling tiredly into the den, and Casey climbing the stairs to her room.
The next day was another of those “If we don’t talk about it, it didn’t happen” days, much like the period that had followed that first kiss in the foyer. Casey stayed inside and caught up on the laundry, her only lapse the strange thrumming in her stomach as she pulled Jess’s briefs out of the dryer and folded them. But she pushed the craziness aside and went on with the rest o
f her duties. That was what she had to start calling them. Duties. Not housekeeping, not homemaking.
Home was thirteen-hundred miles away in a small suburb of Chicago with her mother, her sister, her brother-in-law and their kids. She was only taking up the slack around here so that Jess didn’t have to hire another hand, which would allow for a heftier down payment on the loan when she left in September.
She needed to remember that.
At a quarter to twelve, Casey heard footsteps on the porch, followed by a loud knocking. After giving the pitcher of lemonade she’d just made one last stir, she walked into the foyer, finger-combing her hair away from her damp neck. She was instantly uneasy when she glanced through the screen door and identified the unexpected caller. “Good morning, Sheriff. Farrell, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am, good morning.” He removed his clip-on sunglasses, showing her the mocking look behind the stainless-steel frames. “Jess around?”
He was dressed in a short-sleeved khaki uniform and wore a tan Stetson on his head. The badge she’d seen the night of the brawl at Dusty’s was shining from his breast pocket. Casey didn’t open the door.
“No, he isn’t. May I give him a message?”
Farrell sent her a self-important smile, a smile that said it didn’t make a bit of difference if Jess was around or not; he had business, and he intended to see to it.
Unfolding a writ she hadn’t noticed him carrying, he held it up to the screen. “This is a search warrant. It gives me the authority to search these premises for the items listed. Would you open the door, please, miss?” Farrell sent her another artificial smile. “Or is it Mrs.? Jess has been known to take what’s not his in the past.”
Casey’s lips thinned. She didn’t like this man, didn’t like his smarmy talk or his superior attitude. Despite Jess’s claim that he was a good lawman, Casey suspected that Cy Farrell loved his power too much to be an unbiased protector of the people. “Is there anything on that paper that says I can’t observe while you conduct your search?” she asked coolly.
Accidental Heiress Page 11