Prairie Heat (Cowboys of The Flint Hills #1)

by Tessa Layne

“Need to rest up a bit?”

  Warren shook his head. “Nope. Doc wants me to walk. Even if it hurts.”

  The silence stretched between them. Two palomino brood mares munched lazily on the grass at the center of the pen, their bellies full and round. They’d be foaling soon.

  “Say what you want to say, son.” Maybe the old man figured out he’d pushed too far at the dinner table.

  “You were out of line back there.”

  Warren stiffened. “Says who?”

  “Says me.”

  “Hmmph.”

  “Maddie’s my responsibility now, and you won’t say anything to her that upsets her.”

  Warren side-eyed him, a sly smile playing at his mouth.

  “Who says it upset her?”

  God, if Warren was anyone but Maddie’s father, he’d have laid him flat by now. What Warren needed was a good pounding.

  “For a poker player, you sure are dumb when it comes to your daughter.”

  “I know what’s best for her.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  “Well you sure don’t.”

  The coal of anger flared up, and Blake tamped it down. He would not give in this time. “What century are you living in, Warren? Wake up. Maddie’s her own person.”

  “Is she staying here?”

  So he was changing the subject. He could try, but Warren was not getting the upper hand this time.

  “We’re sorting things out.”

  A triumphant gleam developed in Warren’s eye. Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have been honest. But he was tired of living in a world of half-truths and manufactured misunderstandings. He couldn’t do it anymore. Especially where Maddie was concerned.

  “So you haven’t held up your end of our agreement then.”

  “You collapsed in my arms before we could make an agreement.”

  “Well where’s the ring on her finger then? How you gonna keep her if she doesn’t have a ring?

  Blake clenched the railing and took a steadying breath, turning to look Warren dead in the eye. “I have done more than enough to honor any agreement we might have had. Dammit, Warren. I’m the reason you’re still alive and down here giving me hell.” He clamped down his jaw so tight it hurt.

  Warren drew himself up with a challenge in his eye. “If she’s not stayin’ then you haven’t done shit, son.”

  Not even a thank you. Not that he expected it. Not from him.

  “If she’s not staying yet,” he gritted out. “It’s because I’ve given her space to sort through her feelings.”

  “Huh.” Warren snorted. “Have you gone soft, son? That’s not how you handle women.”

  Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. He wanted to pound Warren so badly he clenched the rails until his knuckles turned white. If he didn’t rope in his anger, Warren would best him.

  He turned and focused it on the man in front of him. “And I should take a lesson from your playbook on how to handle women?”

  Warren narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but Blake lifted his hand to stop him. “That’s your problem, Warren. You don’t know how to handle women. You only know how to push and prod and manipulate. And that stops here. Now.”

  “Pah.” Warren turned and spit, then looked at him slyly. “Don’t you think yer the pot calling the kettle black?”

  Realization hit Blake like a locomotive. No wonder Maddie railed at him. Didn’t trust him. Too often, he’d behaved like her fucking father. Goddammit.

  “When have you ever considered someone’s feelings besides your own Warren?”

  “When I loved your mother.”

  “What?” Blake’s head reeled back like Warren had slapped him.

  “I think Maddie’s mother, Janie Danielle knew it, too. Told me she was lettin’ me go when she died.” Warren’s eyes grew bleak. “Your father had everything I wanted. Amelia… land… a son. There was a time when we both loved her. But she made her choice.” He turned to Blake, anguish and anger swirling in his eyes. Maddie’s eyes. “I hated him.”

  Blake’s stomach dropped like he’d been sucker punched. Warren turned away, staring off toward the creek and the Sinclaire ranch.

  “I wanted to make him pay. I thought about seducing your mother, but I didn’t want to be like him. Dishonorable.”

  Blake clenched his jaw in an effort to hold himself in check. Everyone knew Jake Sinclaire had been an SOB. He’d been the recipient of enough pitying glances growing up to figure out at an early age the havoc his father wreaked around town. A sick sensation settled in the pit of his stomach. Warren was laying a trap, bringing up all this old history. And like a fool, he was walking right in.

  “Your mother came to me that summer. Asked for help. You were already gone. But she had no money to feed the others.”

  Blake stiffened. The memory of his mother, crying over the sink when she thought no one was looking rose, unbidden.

  “I gave her the money. She gave me the deed. But she knew Jake would beat her six ways to Sunday if he found out. So in one of his drunken rages he came over and challenged me to a game of poker.”

  The rest was history. Bile rose up the back of his throat. He didn’t think much about Jake Sinclaire anymore, but he didn’t recall hating him more than at that moment.

  Warren’s eyes narrowed. “How’d you convince Maddie to marry you?”

  Alarm bells started to go off. Shit. Maddie would be beside herself if Warren had overheard their conversation.

  “None of your business.” He stepped forward, bringing the toes of his boots flush with Warren’s and he stood fiercely, waiting for Warren to look him dead on. “And for the record… If you do anything, anything to cause her pain.” He allowed the threat to hang in the air. “You will answer to me personally… And I guarandamntee you, it won’t be pleasant.”

  Dislike flashed through Warren’s eyes. “And why should I answer to you?”

  “Because I love her, you sonofabitch. And I want her to be happy.”

  Hell and damnation.

  That hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Warren stayed silent, his glare fading from animosity to assessing. “Hmmph.”

  Blake turned back to the rail, studying the mares. He wasn’t sure who had the upper hand. But he knew how to get it back this time.

  “Tomorrow my lawyer will be delivering a note to your bank for the full assessed value of the land we lost. I expect the deed to be waiting.” He spoke flatly. There would be no negotiating with Warren. Not anymore. “And to cover only the property on the Sinclaire side of the river. The Hansen side can stay with your family. Deed it to Maddie if you like.”

  He turned to Warren, letting the full force of his anger vent. “And in one week’s time, we’ll be breaking ground on a hunting lodge. If you do anything to stop it or so much as hint to Maddie about any understanding we may or may not have had, I. Will. Crush. You.”

  Warren’s head snapped back. “Think you can buy me off?” he snarled.

  “I am giving you an out. A means of financial independence. To pay your bills and keep your part of the disputed land…and a means to keep your relationship with your daughter intact.”

  Blake stood there, clenching and unclenching his fist. He’d turned the tables on Warren, but wouldn’t put it past him to turn the tables right back. The old man was wily as a fox. And Blake had definitely provoked him.

  Warren stood tall, his jaw clenching and unclenching, loathing radiating from eyes that belonged to Maddie. It unnerved him.

  “Warren. This isn’t an equal sum game. You’re not losing anything.” He shook his head. “Hell, you’re gaining everything.”

  “Am I?” For a moment, Warren’s eyes went bleak.

  Jesus, did he have to spell it out for him? “What have you lost, Warren?”

  He waited for the answer.

  None came.

  Blake waited one more beat. “You haven’t lost a damned thing. You’ve gained, and you know it.” He narrowed his eyes at Warren. “You once t
old me a gambler knows when to walk away from the table. Are you taking your winnings or are you going to drag Maddie into this?”

  God help Warren if that’s what he did. Blake wasn’t sure he could hold back if that was his answer. The silence crackled between them. Everything in his body stilled. He didn’t think Warren would deck him, but he was ready to react.

  “What would my mother tell you?”

  “Hhmph.”

  After what seemed like an eternity, the fight went out of Warren. His shoulders sagged, and suddenly he had the look of a tired, old man. Blake let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

  “We’re not done. You and me.” Warren speared him with a fierce look. “I still want a grandchild.”

  “And you’ll have a much better chance of that if you stop meddling.”

  “Who says I’m meddling?”

  Blake snorted. “Tell yourself whatever you like. But you know what I mean. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get on home and attend to my own livestock.”

  He reached out and clasped Warren by the shoulder as he passed by. The old cuss would be the death of him. He was a loose cannon who would never be contained.

  Blake trudged up the hill, lost in his thoughts. Now that he had the family land back, could he keep Warren under control long enough to convince Maddie to stay?

  He didn’t want her to go back to Chicago.

  Didn’t think she wanted to, either.

  At least he hoped not.

  Hell, if she was willing, he’d even commute. His work took him out of town often enough, laying over in Chicago would be manageable. Being with her had been heaven. He’d glimpsed a future he’d never even allowed himself to imagine, thanks to Jake. As he stepped across the back porch and placed his hand on the screen door, he paused. Maddie’s laughter filled the kitchen with a warmth that settled in his gut. Home.

  She turned, laughter still in her eyes. “Oh good. You’re back. Gonna come in?”

  He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  “How’d your manly conversation go?”

  He shrugged. “How do you think it went? It’s your dad.”

  “Say no more.” She wrapped her arms around him, standing on tiptoe to place a kiss on his chin. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You okay?”

  The urge to tell her he loved her hit him square in the gut. He nodded, beating back the urge to the corners of his psyche. Not here. Not now.

  “So I was thinking,” she traced her fingers up the buttons of his chest, sending delicious sensations straight to his cock. “Why don’t I help you with the remaining chores, and then we can hit the Trading Post?”

  His mouth went dry. He cleared his throat, concentrating on her words not her fingers, touched by her offer to help.

  “Sure you want to go back after last time?”

  She shrugged, a small smile forming.

  “Yeah. Things are, um, different now.”

  They certainly were. Making love had changed everything. Like flipping a switch. Loaded banter had been replaced by an easy intimacy. The touches and glances between them were no longer manufactured, but spontaneous expressions of feeling.

  He caressed her cheek with his knuckles, losing himself in the deep blue pools of her eyes. “I have a better idea.”

  She leaned on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Does it involve removing our clothes?”

  His cock jerked straight to attention. He smiled slowly and waggled his eyebrows. “Perhaps.”

  “Then let’s get out of here.”

  The question still burned in him as he kissed her forehead. Was he brave enough to tell Maddie his deepest, darkest secret?

  CHAPTER 25

  Blake threw his weight against the weathered old door. On the second try, the swollen wood gave way to a dark, musty interior. He shined the flashlight around the small space. Except for a fine covering of dust, the room appeared clean and tidy, and Maddie caught glimpses of a large stone fireplace similar to the hearth in the Big House.

  She’d been surprised when he’d suggested coming to the homestead instead of hitting the Trading Post. But now that they were here, away from the prying eyes of family and friends, she felt like she could breathe a little easier, be a little more free. Now that they were… whateveritwas… she found herself appreciating more and more the time they spent alone.

  “Is there a light in here?”

  He stepped into the space, flashing the light back and forth. “There should be an oil lamp… here.” He brought it to the center of a little wooden table, and dug his bag for a lighter. He lit the wick and brought down the hurricane, casting the room in an antique glow.

  He grinned over at her. “So this is it. This is where the Sinclaire legacy began.”

  “It’s so tiny.”

  “Pascal, Stands With Eagles, and their two small children lived here until Pascal built the Big House.”

  She turned, taking in the full room. A bed frame was centered under a window against one wall, the little table directly across from it under another window. “It’s the perfect hideaway.”

  “It’s been used for that before. Whenever we kids had to get away from Jake or sort out a problem, we’d come here. I’m sure the boys snuck a few girlfriends here too.”

  “Did you?” Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, jealousy pooling in the pit of her stomach. Why did it matter so much what he did long before he knew her? Before they’d fallen in love.

  Her knees buckled and she reached for the back of a chair for support as she fell into the realization like a rocket booster plummeting back to earth.

  She loved him.

  He studied her intently, like he could see through everything to the deepest part of her soul.

  A lazy smile curved his mouth. God, she loved that mouth. The feel of his lips on her skin, on her mouth, on her clit. “Only you, Maddie. You’re the only one.”

  Relief flooded her.

  He was her only one for so many things. And rapidly, she was coming to depend on him. To offer counsel and support when her father was ornery, to ask questions about the equations she was solving. He sought her advice about the daily operations of the ranch. He valued her opinion. They’d become partners in addition to lovers.

  And strangely, surprisingly, she was unafraid. In her mind’s eye, she could see their lives moving forward, in the same rhythm they’d developed over the last few weeks. But she didn’t live here. Couldn’t stay here.

  A wave of grief stabbed through her at the thought of this finally coming to an end. That day was fast approaching. Her father’s coloring and energy were improving quickly. In the next few days, she’d have to make plans to return to work. A lump lodged itself in her throat like a fish bone, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

  Grateful for the dim light, she grabbed the container of wipes he’d brought with them and began cleaning off the table with a ferocity that surprised her.

  He turned, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll get a fire going. Weather’s moving in, we’re in for a doozy tonight.”

  She’d learned to trust his instincts about storms. So far, he’d been spot on. While he knelt in front of the fire, she moved to the chairs, wiping and cleaning, trying to focus her jumbled thoughts.

  Should she tell him?

  She’d never told anyone except a family member she’d loved them. Not even Marcus.

  Did he already know?

  How would she even bring it up? Was she better off keeping it to herself?

  She knew he loved her. He’d said it. Granted, it was in the heat of the moment, and he hadn’t said it since, but she’d heard him, plain as day. His declaration had surprised her, opened her, softened her. And as she studied the evidence in the following days, she was confident he did.

  It no longer mattered that he’d held back about Kylee. It was obviously water under the bridge for him. And someday, maybe, he’d tell her. Her parents had kept secrets from each other. Even as a littl
e girl, she’d been able to tell. Maybe it was an uncomfortable part of loving someone.

  “Stop thinking, Maddie.” His arms enveloped her and he removed the wipe from her hand. Turning her around, he cradled her face in his hands, and brought his lips to hers. She sighed into them, savoring his scent, and the way his lips brought immediate hyperawareness to every nerve ending.

  He nibbled the corner of her mouth, his tongue flicking out. She opened, receiving him. Sliding her tongue with his in a slow dance that had her core heating like the fire in the hearth.

  He lifted his head and a needy little sigh escaped. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Mmm mm,” she groaned shaking her head. “I want to kiss.”

  His low laughter warmed her straight to her toes. “Greedy little thing you’ve become, haven’t you?”

  She twined her hand around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. “Yes,” she sighed. “I have needs you know. Lots of them.”

  His hands caressed her hip, flowing over her ass and pulling her close. She rolled her hips into him, reveling in his sudden hiss. So she wasn’t the only one hot and bothered.

  He pulled away, studying her intently.

  Instantly, her guard went up. “What? What is it?”

  Did he bring her here to tell her it was over? Time to cool things off since she was leaving soon? Her stomach sank to her toes like a rock.

  He drew the back of his finger across her cheek, capturing a wayward strand and twining it around his finger. “You’re a marvel, you know? A bundle of contradictions.”

  Her heart gave a little kick. Where was he going with this?

  He tugged on her hand. “Come here. Sit for a second.”

  He led her to one of the chairs, then knelt between the bags he’d brought, and pulled out two compressed air mats and a pillow. The other bag held two fluffy blankets, two plastic cups, and a bottle of chilled champagne. Light flickered outside the window, followed a few seconds later by rumbling in the distance.

  “Blake, what is this?” She couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face.

  He arranged the mats and blankets in front of the fire, then unwrapped the bottle and popped the top, catching the bubbles in one of the glasses. He poured out a little more and handed her a glass. He poured out some for himself then patted the floor.