Texas Passion

by Anita Philmar

  “Catherine, why don’t you introduce Joel’s friend to Trent?” The sound of her mother’s voice pulled Catherine from an argument with Kirk.

  She turned and drank in the beautiful sight of Trent. In a starched white dress shirt, his tanned face and dark hair radiated with a healthy glow. He marched forward, and the thud of his boots against the floor rang through the room.

  The dark glint in his eyes confused her for a moment. What was his problem? Could he be jealous? Ridiculous. Something else had to be wrong. She strolled forward and reached out her hand, seeking comfort from the misery of both her brother and his friend heading off to war. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  He glared at Kirk. “I didn’t know you were entertaining another guest.”

  “Kirk, I’d like you to meet Trent McCall.” Catherine laid her hand on Trent’s arm. “Trent, this is my brother’s best friend, Kirk Murphy. He’s going off with Joel to join the war.”

  Trent extended his hand but refused to look at her. “And when are y’all planning to leave?”

  Catherine dropped her hold on Trent’s arm and returned to Kirk’s side. They were leaving way too soon as it was. How could Trent encourage their departure? Why was he acting this way when she was trying so hard to stop them from going?

  A laugh burst from behind Trent, and her brother slapped him on the back. “Not for a few more days. So you best behave when you’re around my sister.”

  Trent clasped hands with Joel’s and offered a hearty shake. “And how long do you expect to be gone?”

  Catherine scowled at Trent’s back. What was his problem?

  “Not nearly as long as you’d like me to be,” Joel teased and released Trent’s hand. “We’re heading over to Dallas. We plan to follow the Trinity River to the coast before making our way over to New Orleans.”

  Catherine’s heart sank. They didn’t need to fight in this war. She’d argued with both men for days now, but they refused to listen. “You could always change your mind and not go.”

  Joel grinned and Kirk slung his arm around her shoulders. The warm circle of his arms soothed some of the heartache she felt at them leaving. Maybe, she could convince him to stay behind. But her gaze met his and she knew it was useless when she saw the determination reflected in his solemn blue eyes. He wouldn’t budge no matter how much she’d begged. “We’re going to miss you, too. But this is something we have to do.”

  She turned into his embrace, hugged him close as tears blurred her vision. “Just promise me you’ll come back.”

  Kirk squeezed her tight for a moment then released her. “Maybe, if we don’t find some sweet southern belle and decide to get hitched.”

  “Oh, you.” She smiled at his attempt to lighten her mood. “Just bring her back with you.”

  “And have you tell her all my flaws?” He strutted to the high-backed floral couch and sank into its fluffy cushions. “I don’t think so.”

  “But…”

  “Trent, you never said what you’d like to drink.” Her mother’s question drew Catherine’s focus back to him.

  “No thanks, Mrs. Turnberry. If you don’t mind, I’d like a few moments alone with Catherine?” He headed to the door without another word.

  Frowning, Catherine glanced at the father for approval. He nodded, and she fixed her stare on Trent’s back. Was he nervous about proposing? Or was he having second thoughts? Maybe, if they were alone, he’d tell her what was bothering him. “Why don’t we take a stroll out to the barn? Dad has a mare that is about to foal. We can check on her.”

  “No, you shouldn’t—” her mother exclaimed.

  “She’ll watch where she steps,” her father interrupted.

  “Yes,” her mother huffed. “But that dress wasn’t designed to be worn in a barn.”

  Trent held out his hand for Catherine to precede him. She ignored her mother and led the way to the front door.

  His hand brushed her waist when he reached for the knob. He swung the door open, and the fresh scent of pure male aroused her, and a shiver raced down her spine.

  “Thank you.” She glanced at him and smiled, but his blank expression didn’t change.

  Clasping a handful of fabric in each hand to lift her skirts off the ground, she strolled across the front porch and down the steps. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to marry her anymore? Pain pierced her heart. Had she miscalculated and fallen into the same trap as the girls at the theatre by letting her feelings and attraction rule over logic?

  But he’d appeared happy enough last night.

  The thud of his boots crunched on the stone pathway, but she didn’t pause at the gate for him to open it. Instead, she hit the latch and swept through, then swirled around to hold it for him. Her gaze flew to his face. A black hat shadowed his eyes—when had he put it on?—but she could still make out his stony expression as he stomped through the gate. It was all the proof she needed to confirm her suspicions. He wanted to end their relationship. A wave of dread crashed over her and her legs wobbled. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but pride held them in check.

  “Okay, we’re outside where no one can hear us.” She planted her hands on her hips, and the gate slammed shut. “Just say your piece, then get on your horse and go.”

  “Not just yet.” He wrapped a hand around her upper arm and strode across the yard, dragging her along in his wake. “We’ll talk in the barn.”

  “We don’t need to.” She jerked her arm from his grasp and drew to a halt. “You can tell me whatever you have to say right here.”

  Trent stopped after a few steps and glanced back at the house. “Just because they can’t hear us, doesn’t mean they can’t see us.”

  Disgusted at his high-handed manner, she lifted her skirts and marched toward the open barn doors. “Fine, but let’s make this short.”

  The earthy scent in the barn should’ve squelched Trent’s desire, but it didn’t. He scanned the area for the ladder leading to the loft and lengthened his stride to ease the pressure growing in his cock. A bed of hay would be the perfect place to show her just who she belonged to.

  His gaze fell to the gentle sway of her hips and up the straight line of her spine. She didn’t like his possessive attitude. But hell, what did the woman expect when she threw herself in the arms of another man right in front of him?

  The subdued lighting cast shadows across her soft features when she turned to face him. “So spit it out. What’s on your mind?”

  Something about her belligerence didn’t feel right. Her beautiful green eyes, which had thrown daggers at him a moment ago, refused to meet his now. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. She rubbed her hand over her neck and ruffled the lace on the neckline of her dress.

  He stalked closer and she edged back. One step, two, the hunt ended when he pinned her against the railing of a stall. “Tell me about your brother’s best friend.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  Shock swept across her face. Yet, he couldn’t hold back his doubts. “What are your feelings for him?”

  “I love him, just like I love Joel.” She dropped her chin, and Trent tightened his grip on her waist. “But right now I’m not too happy with them. There’s no reason for them to go off and fight in this war. No one can win.”

  The tight pressure in his chest eased. She might not have been playing him for a fool after all. “And that’s the only reason you were hugging him?”

  She grabbed the front of his shirt. Anger flashed in her green eyes. “Is that the burr you have up your ass? Because if it is, you can just—”

  He dove for her lips. The woman talked entirely too much, and the only sure-fire way to shut her up was to occupy her luscious mouth. He smoothed his hands along her ribcage and over her hips. The delicate silk of her dress made him question her stamina for living on the frontier. She wouldn’t have it easy. Life here was tough. Could she really handle the pressures of being a rancher’s wife?

  But could he let her go?

  The tigh
t grip on his shirt loosened, and her hands slid around his neck. She answered his kiss with a passion that turned his cock to granite. Her tongue, lips, and mouth tasted of pure heaven and stirred his hunger for more. He ground his groin against the yards of fabric barring entrance to her moist center. She rocked her hips and rode the length of his shaft. Trent cupped her ass and squeezed.

  A sigh hummed from her throat, followed by a few frantic whimpers. The sound vibrated through his body. God, he had to fuck her.

  He tore his mouth from hers and charted a path to the curve of her neck. “Please tell me you need me as much as I need you,” he murmured against her skin. “Because right now, I have to be inside you.”

  She threw back her head. “Yes.”

  He leaned back enough to lift her skirt.

  “I hope that means we’re planning a wedding.” Joel’s voice echoed from the entryway of the barn. “Or else I’m going to get my gun.”

  Catherine’s head lowered to Trent’s shoulder. “Could he have worse timing?”

  Trent wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered, “In another minute, he’d have found me pounding—”

  “So what’s the answer?” Joel persisted.

  She lifted her head and their eyes connected. Trent lifted a brow in question. “So are you going to marry me?”

  After a slight nod, she turned her head and yelled to her brother. “We’ve decided you’re not invited to the wedding. Now leave us alone.”

  Thrilled that she’d accepted his marriage proposal, Trent didn’t relinquish his hold. They deserved a few minutes alone. “And if you hope to have any of our children named after you, you better not return for at least an hour.”

  A burst of laughter sounded from the opening. Kirk answered instead of Joel, “Won’t work. Because even if Joel is willing to skedaddle, I’m not leaving until you come out.”

  Catherine placed a quick kiss on Trent’s cheek and wiggled in his arms. “We’ll just have to postpone this until later.”

  “Sure,” he sighed and turned but maintained a hand at her waist. Maybe they could arrange to meet later tonight at his hunting cabin.

  ****

  The sky glowed with a thousand stars, and Catherine basted in the knowledge that finally all her dreams were coming true.

  Trent swung into his saddle, his tall and handsome form highlighted by the light streaming from the windows of her family’s home—her future home with Trent. She smiled, pleased at the thought of telling him about the lease she’d secured on her father’s ranch. She imagined his delight at them having a place of their own.

  He gave a quick little nod and tugged on the reins. His stallion danced in a circle and then fell into a smooth canter.

  Catherine didn’t move but enjoyed the sight of Trent in the saddle as he rode away.

  “Trent McCall is a good man.” Her father’s voice rang from directly behind her. “He even asked if your brother wanted to run the ranch when I told him about the lease I gave you on the ranch.”

  Catherine’s heart jumped into a gallop and fire sped through her blood. She whipped around. “What? Why did you tell him?”

  “Now, Catherine, the boy deserved to know the truth.” Her father stepped to one side and directed her toward the house.

  “Yes, but I wanted to tell him,” Catherine argued and refused to budge.

  “Now, honey, that was man talk. I needed to make sure he’d take care of you and the ranch. After all, I’m still your father and this is still my ranch. I won’t hand over either of you to someone who can’t appreciate you both.” He strolled toward the house, leaving her to follow.

  She spun on her heels and crashed through the front gate, doubts hounding her as she strolled for the barn. One thought plagued her most. Was empty sex enough to build a marriage?

  ****

  Hot air brushed Catherine’s cheek. The wind yowled a warning of the abuse to come. She tossed the long braid of her hair over her shoulder and glanced at the reddish glow to the west. The dry plain, stretching out for miles, waited for the storm on the horizon to blow through.

  Where did that stupid cow leave her calf?

  She urged her horse into a dry creek bed and scanned the underbrush for any sight of the newborn. Today would be the last time Catherine would have more than a few moments to herself. Her mother, planning every detail of the wedding, had them leaving at dawn for the church in Old Lubbock. Trent had arranged for them to stay in town Friday night, and then they’d head back for a party at his father’s place on Saturday night.

  She shook her head and grumbled at all the hoopla, “Why do we have to go through all this?”

  A low bawling sounded nearby.

  Searching through a thicket of sagebrush, she caught sight of the calf. The white-faced newborn raised its head and peered at her with its big brown eyes. Drawing in a dry dusty breath, she checked the horizon again. The dark, red cloud lying low over the land crept closer.

  Need sparked through her blood at the strength of the storm. Wild and fierce, Trent’s gaze the other day had the same hunger. Oh but, he could ignite her passion whenever she allowed herself to think about him. If her brother hadn’t interrupted, what would he have done? Lifted her dress and tore off her petticoats so he could sink his thick cock into her pussy?

  A drop of moisture seeped onto the crotch of the pants she’d borrowed from her brother. She longed to ask Trent, but between his family and hers, they hadn’t had more than ten minutes alone in over a week. Why couldn’t everyone just leave them alone? She still needed to question Trent about the real reason for his proposal. To know if he loved her or just wanted her father’s ranch.

  If only her father had kept his mouth shut?

  Irritated by the interference, she swung out of her saddle, drew the reins through a nearby bush, and collected her rifle. “We’d better get out of here before that storm hits. First, little fellow, if you’ll just stand up and walk on over here, it’d make this a lot easier on both of us.” She glanced around and stepped closer, but the calf didn’t budge.

  Less than a few days old, the calf probably decided to ride out the approaching dust storm in the brush. “Too bad your mother deserted you or she might have offered some help.” Catherine lowered her voice. “But it’s not a problem. Trent’s hunting cabin is not very far from here, and he won’t mind if we use it.”

  Squatting on her haunches, she carefully studied the calf. “Now you need to come out. I don’t want to have to come in there and get you?”

  “Best leave him where he is.”

  The male voice, so close behind her, spooked Catherine. She spun around, landing on her butt, her rifle aimed at the intruder. “What the—”

  Trent grabbed the end of her gun and jerked it out of her hands. “I ought to tan your hide. Can’t you see there’s a dust storm blowing in?”

  His unexpected appearance lit her passion, but his harsh tone ignited her anger. She scrambled to her feet and yelled over the howl of the wind, “I was hoping to get this calf in before the storm hit.”

  The dark glint in his eyes would have sparked fear in most men, but she refused to bow under his scrutiny. She straightened her shoulders and stood her ground. His gaze dropped to her off-white cotton shirt and on to her black pants. “Why are you dressed like a man?”

  “What difference does it make?” She stepped forward and tugged her rifle from him, no longer caring what happened to the silly calf. She put away her weapon, gathered the reins, then swung into her saddle. “Do what you want, but I’m headed out of here.”

  She kicked her heels into her horse’s flanks, urging him into a gallop. She glanced over her shoulder to see if he was following. Grit hit her face and fear bloomed in her chest. Less than five hundred feet away, a dust cloud obliterated the landscape. She blinked to clear her vision and caught a glimpse of Trent, but the unrelenting wind slashed across her face and blinded her.

  Stunned by the swift moving storm, she slid sideways in her sad
dle from her horse’s uneven gait. She gripped the reins tighter and turned toward Trent’s hunting cabin ahead.

  Not too much farther.

  She glanced over her shoulder again, expecting, hoping to see Trent. Terror instantly drenched her body in a cold sweat. The light from the sun dimmed, falling into a twilight haze in the middle of the afternoon. A fine powder coated her throat, and muffled her call to Trent

  No answer. But with the roar of the wind, he probably couldn’t hear her.

  Too afraid to slow down and praying he was still behind her, Catherine raced toward the cabin. Her attention swung between the log house on the horizon and the cloud of dust on her heels. Dust storms were deadly.

  Dread crawled down her spine. She tugged on the reins and her horse slowed to a trot. “Trent is used to this type of weather and he wouldn’t want me to wait, but…”

  She turned, and the wall of dirt shriveled her courage to the size of a prune. The full weight of what could happen to Trent pressed down on her shoulders, and she slumped over the saddle horn. “He can’t die.”

  Her horse stopped in front of the cabin.

  Catherine slid from the saddle. Her knees wobbled under her weight, and she held on to the saddle horn to stay erect. She scanned the path she’d just followed. Nothing moved in the limited range of her sight.

  He was okay. He had to be. All her dreams for the future, for the ranch…they meant nothing if Trent wasn’t with her to share them.

  She drew the reins over her horse’s head, holding tight so he wouldn’t bolt, and wrapped the thin leather around the post.

  “Okay, boy, we’ll give him a few minutes. Then…” Catherine sank against the rough log wall. She buried her head in her hands. “God, please don’t let anything happen to him.”

  ****

  The hazy view ahead revealed only a horse near the cabin. Trent blinked and searched the area again. Panic bubbled through his gut. He kicked his horse and rocked in his saddle with the increased pace. The calf in his arm bellowed.