Wild At Heart

by Susan Fox

  Suddenly deciding to spare them both, Rio started to follow Sam and the others. She’d not gone more than two steps past Kane before his hard, strong fingers closed around her arm and brought her to a halt. Rio turned toward him in surprise. His handsome features were as harsh as ever, his blue eyes glinting with irritation.

  Meanwhile, the firm grip on her arm was sending a tide of sensation through her. The memory of the kiss in the stable came flooding back, shocking her with the sudden craving to be kissed again.

  “Sam expects me to do the gentlemanly thing by you,” Kane was saying before his mouth curved with a mixture of amusement and mockery. “And if Ramona could see your face right now, she’d give you a tongue-lashing that would cut you to ribbons.”

  Rio stiffened and tried to free her arm. Kane tightened his grip and tugged her closer. She braced a hand against his chest to maintain the narrow distance between them. Her defiant, “Leave me alone, Kane,” was a bit breathless.

  “Then keep those soft, hungry looks to yourself.” The low words were brutal.

  Her face flushed. She gave him a shove that should have pushed him away, but he stood before her like a granite column. The heat from his shirtfront seared her palm, the steady rhythm of the heart beneath her hand beating once for every two beats of her own. She was suddenly overwhelmed by his maleness, and staggered by the powerful longings of her own body.

  What a fool she was! Self-preservation won out over desire and gave her the strength to push away from Kane and step back. She couldn’t look him in the eye, but she felt the laser intensity of his gaze as she turned and walked swiftly toward the dining room.

  She was so attuned to him that she heard every unhurried boot step as he followed. And though she avoided looking at him during the meal, she sensed every move he made, and felt it like a touch each time he looked at her.

  At least Ramona allowed her to eat her meal in peace. Rio began to think the older woman’s attitude toward her had mellowed, which put her a little more at ease. It wasn’t until later that she realized Ramona hadn’t mellowed a bit.

  They had all moved back into the living room. Ardis was carrying in a coffee tray. Sam had excused himself for an early night. Ramona barely waited long enough for the elevator at the back hall to reach the upstairs level before she began.

  “Sam’s been quite charitable toward you all these years, Rio.” Ramona’s voice was soft and sweetly modulated, but her words were like a slap.

  Rio hesitated as she reached for the coffee cup Ardis passed her. The old shame that burst up made her break contact with Ardis’s watchful gaze as she took the cup and saucer.

  She didn’t respond to Ramona’s opening salvo. Kane would take a dim view of any verbal retaliation on her part, and perhaps Ardis felt the same way. Ardis had never been particularly friendly toward her, so Rio didn’t think of her as an ally.

  As if she were flaunting the knowledge that no one in the room would object, Ramona went on. “I’d think you’d have more pride than to keep hanging around, playing up to that poor old man in hopes of getting more out of him.”

  Rio sipped her coffee as she struggled to conceal her anger. Any sign of upset would please Ramona, and Rio was determined to thwart her. She lowered her cup and calmly met the malicious gleam in Ramona’s eyes. “Sam’s no fool, Ramona.”

  Beneath her quiet words was a warning to Ramona about the infidelity Rio suspected her of. She doubted the others in the room would take those words at anything but face value, but Ramona took them exactly as Rio had intended. There was no mistaking the wild flush of outrage that colored her flawless face.

  Ramona turned toward Kane who grimly watched them both. “Can’t you do something about her, Kane?”

  Kane’s mouth quirked in faint sarcasm. “What is it you want me to do, Ramona?”

  “Fire her, make her leave—” she waved one hand impatiently “—whatever it takes.”

  Rio set her cup aside, her nerves going painfully tight as she prepared to rise and leave the room. She shouldn’t have stayed for coffee, she never should have hung around once Sam had retired for the evening. She’d lived on Langtry long enough to know how things were and how they would always be.

  “Finish your coffee, Rio.” Kane’s rough drawl carried the steely undertone of an order. She glanced up, but Kane’s blue gaze was fixed on Ramona.

  “Rio earns her keep, Ramona. And since she works for me, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me decide whether she’s out of line or not.”

  Ramona’s perfect face was suddenly the picture of dismay. “Kane…” she hesitated, clearly confused. “Surely you aren’t—”

  “Leave it alone.” Kane’s icy tone cut her off.

  Ramona’s mouth rounded in surprise, but she quickly affected a wounded look. Kane appeared oblivious to the act as he turned his attention to Tracy. Rio could only stare, as shocked by Kane’s unexpected intervention as Ramona was.

  The excitement that stormed over her when she realized that Kane had actually defended her ebbed swiftly. He wasn’t really sticking up for her, he was responding to a challenge to his authority. And, as he’d said that morning, it had nothing to do with her.

  Rio picked up her cup, but was no longer interested in coffee. She could feel the hostility that radiated from Ramona as Kane made small talk with Tracy. She rose to her feet with unhurried grace to set her cup and saucer on the tray, then slipped out of the room while Kane was distracted by his conversation with his stepsister.

  She might have made good the escape to her room, but the doorbell rang. Since she was closer to the front of the house than either Ardis or Estelle, she took a quick detour to answer the door.

  B.J. Hastings waited on the doorstep. Peacock handsome, his blond hair and blue eyes made him look almost angelic. Though he was almost as tall as Kane, his lean body didn’t carry the hard muscle that Kane’s did. But then, even though Kane managed several Langtry business interests, he still did ranch work with surprising regularity. B.J., she knew, enjoyed being the boss when his father left him in charge, but he wouldn’t have dreamed of working with his men. He often chided her for working with the Langtry ranch hands, vacillating between horror and careful ridicule depending on the work Rio was doing at the time.

  And that was just one of the many reasons Rio found him lacking as a marriage prospect.

  “Hello, darlin’,” he drawled, his eyes wandering down her slim body with open appreciation. “Any chance we’ve got the house to ourselves tonight?”

  Rio managed a soft smile and a quiet “Hello,” secretly unhappy about the question. She ignored it and said, “Come out to the kitchen. It’s a little less crowded there.” She turned and led the way, quickly passing the wide doorway into the living room. She heard B.J.’s irritable murmur as he tried to keep up.

  Ardis and Estelle were in the kitchen, a Scrabble game laid out on the table in the breakfast nook as they watched a network news program. Disappointed that the room wasn’t free, she smiled at the two women and continued on out the back door to the patio as if that had been their destination all along.

  She went to one of the shadowy areas near the far end of the pool before she stopped. B.J. caught up to her, then took her arm and turned her toward him. In the next second his open mouth swooped down on hers as his arms tightened like bands around her.

  Warm and wet, his mouth was not firm but soft, as if he were smearing it over her lips. Coming so soon after Kane’s steamy kiss, Rio couldn’t help noticing the difference. She also couldn’t help that B.J.’s kiss repulsed her.

  As quickly as she could, she managed to pull back, privately appalled that B.J. compared so unfavorably to Kane.

  “Ah, come on, Rio,” B.J. groaned, then tried unsuccessfully to recapture her lips with his. Rio braced her hands against his chest to create some space, but his mouth found the side of her neck. “Girls like you are supposed to be wild and willing,” he murmured as he nibbled the delicate flesh. His marauding lips w
ere repellent, but his words were chilling.

  Rio gave him a shove that gained her freedom, then took a step back. Something in her rigid posture discouraged him from reaching for her a second time.

  “Girls like me?” she asked quietly. “What about girls like me?”

  Though his face was heavily shadowed, Rio could see that B.J. was too annoyed with her to realize he was treading on shaky ground. He answered with a foolish lack of caution.

  “Yeah, girls like you.” Frustration made him give the words a faint sneer. “Beautiful, come-from-nothin’ girls who know how to play up to big money. Only in your case, you never try too hard.”

  Rio stared, not really surprised by the insult. She’d known much of B.J.’s attention was an act, she’d sensed it from the first. It was because of his sudden attention and her less than exalted status in their community that she’d not immediately rebuffed him. Somehow, things had rapidly escalated, until B.J.’s surprise proposal had left her scrambling for a way to turn him down without offending him. She should have known it was inevitable.

  Her soft, “I think you’d better leave,” sounded as calm as she could make it, but she was trembling with anger.

  B.J. cocked his head as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “What did you say?”

  The deep voice that intruded startled them both. “I heard what she said, Hastings, and I’m standing over here.”

  Rio turned and saw Kane standing across the pool from them in the deep shadow of the stone wall. “Give your daddy our regards.”

  It was a blatant invitation to leave. B.J. stood there a moment, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, before he spun away and headed toward the patio gate and the sidewalk that would take him to the front driveway.

  Rio watched him go, more relieved by Kane’s intrusion than she wanted to admit. The problem of how to deal with B.J.’s proposal had just been solved, and she didn’t care that she hadn’t been the one to solve it. She could not, however, let Kane know she appreciated his intrusion.

  She looked toward the deep shadows across the pool at Kane.

  “Spying?” she asked, forcing just the right touch of challenge into her tone.

  “Looking out for Langtry interests. Saving B.J. a world of sexual frustration.” He paused a moment before his voice went rough. “I told you to tell him no.”

  Rio was grateful for the dimness that concealed the heat in her face. The memory of how Kane had been touching her when he’d first said those words sent a torrent of longing through her. Somehow she made her voice sound strong. “I take your orders where the ranch is concerned, Kane. You don’t have any say in my personal business.”

  “We won’t argue about that tonight, Rio. You’re done with B.J. I hope you’re smart enough to keep it that way.”

  She stared warily into the darkness that concealed him, as mystified by his sudden intrusion into her personal life as she was by his intervention with Ramona earlier.

  On the other hand, he’d said he was looking out for Langtry interests. Only a fool would take that blunt statement at more than face value—particularly since it was Kane who’d said it.

  Before she could respond to his autocratic remarks he was gone, striding toward the back door to the kitchen, his brisk manner emphasizing the emotional distance between them.

  * * *

  Rio wasn’t eager to leave the house after breakfast that next morning. Sam seemed more tired than usual, weaker. She’d seen him take one of his tiny pills at the table, but a frown from Kane made her conceal her worry.

  In a departure from the norm, she and Kane lingered over coffee. Ramona and Tracy weren’t awake yet, and it would be hours before either of them came downstairs for breakfast. In the end, it was Sam who sent them on their way, gruffly reminding them that they had responsibilities.

  Rio was present when Kane discussed work with the foreman and their men, but as usual, she kept in the background. By the time he dismissed them, she realized that he hadn’t assigned her anything in particular.

  Kane waited until they stepped out of the cookhouse before he spoke to her. “I’ll be in the office this morning. Find something to do until you think Ramona and Tracy have had time to come downstairs and finish breakfast. Come see me after that.” His eyes met hers solemnly, and Rio had the startling sense that he was including her as his equal in their vigil over his father’s health. “Unless I send for you sooner.”

  The words made her heart sink, but she nodded. “I’ll be close by.”

  They went their separate ways, Kane to his office, Rio to one of the stables to work with a colt she’d been training. A feeling of foreboding wound around her heart. The minutes crawled along until at last it was time to go to the house.

  * * *

  Sam Langtry couldn’t remember being too young to ride a horse. His daddy had bragged that his fine, strapping son had ridden in front of him in the saddle by the time he was strong enough to hold up his head, taking the reins in his chubby little hands by the time he was nine months old. Since all that was true, it was no wonder that not riding a horse for the past year had seemed so damned unnatural.

  The old red roan gelding nudged his arm as if to remind him of the sugar cube he’d promised. Sam dug into his shirt pocket and brought out the treat. His hands were shaking so from weariness that he almost lost the cube before he could hold it out in his palm.

  He stepped to the horse’s side and checked the cinch with expert hands before he gathered the reins. He got his foot in the stirrup and swung himself upward, alarmed at how much strength was required to mount, but pleased that the movement still felt as natural to him as breathing.

  Once he was atop the old horse, the pain in his chest sharpened. Dizziness made him feel sick and his breath came hard. The vial of pills he was never without was in his pocket, and he went for a last dose with weak fingers.

  It took so long to feel better that he began to worry that he might pass out before he could get clear of the stable door. He was hurting, but at least he’d got the saddle on Spinner before it had got this bad. Despite the pain and that odd kind of wooziness, he felt better than he had in a long time.

  At his signal, the roan stepped forward as if he, too, were eager to head out like old times. Sam had been hoping Spinner’s gait was still as smooth as he remembered, and to his relief, it was. He relaxed as the familiarity of being on horseback gave him a reviving feeling of youth.

  He and Spinner moved sedately down one of the alleys that bisected the network of corrals. If anyone had seen him, they sure hadn’t tried to stop him. He released a cautious breath when they cleared the headquarters and the only thing before them was the massive, sun-bright Langtry range.

  Rio was walking up the path from the shaded corral she left the colt in. Out of habit, she scanned what she could see of the headquarters and the open land beyond. At first, she didn’t pay undue attention to the tall cowboy she saw ride through the last gate toward the range. The sight was so familiar to her that what she was seeing didn’t fully register until she was about to glance away.

  It seemed odd that someone was taking Spinner out. The roan cowpony was Sam’s, but Sam had long ago retired him. They’d brought him in from the range a month ago to doctor an infected cut, but some of the kids around the ranch had been as drawn to the old horse as he was to them. Kane had decided to allow them to ride the cowpony for the summer as long as they were easy on him and didn’t bother him during the heat of the day.

  And that was why it was so strange to see one of the ranch hands riding him out to work. Rio’s steps slowed as she continued to stare, struck by the notion that she was seeing Sam ride away from the headquarters as tall and strong as ever. And when the cowboy reached up to adjust his hat, the familiarity of the gesture confirmed it.

  Panic jolted her into movement, sending her running for the main house and Kane.

  Sam and Spinner made it to the tree-scattered rise of the Painted Fence. Sam’s elation at esca
ping the ranch headquarters on horseback was probably all that kept him from folding over with the terrible pain in his chest.

  Lord, it was good to be out in the open, a warm wind on his face, a solid horse beneath him and all of Langtry spread around him like a vast kingdom. He hadn’t wanted to die in a hospital, he hadn’t wanted to die indoors. He’d wanted to die like this, exactly like this, natural, without fuss, beneath the Texas sky with the sight and sound and smell of the land around him.

  He let Spinner walk up to the hitch rail just outside the white picket fence that surrounded the family cemetery. The old horse came to a halt and stood patiently.

  Sam managed to dismount, barely able to hold on to the saddle long enough for his buckling knees to steady. The pain that was cleaving his chest made him feel weak as a baby, but he forced himself forward. Once he was inside the gate, he made his way past the assortment of gravestones.

  His first wife, Marlie, wasn’t buried here. She’d died of pneumonia the spring Kane had turned two, and her mama had wanted her buried with the rest of her family in a cemetery near Dallas. Sam had given in out of pity for his mother-in-law-of three years.

  He was almost glad now that Marlie wasn’t resting here, though he’d loved her with the intensity of a newlywed husband. If she were, he would have been obliged to leave instructions that he be buried beside her. As it was, he meant to be buried next to Lenore Cory.

  It’d been easy to get Ned Cory’s agreement to bury his wife on Langtry, easy because Sam had offered to pay all the costs for the casket, headstone and funeral. But two years later, when Ned Cory had died in the car crash, Sam’d had him interred in the county cemetery ten miles away.

  No one had ever questioned Sam about the arrangements for either funeral, and he himself had never remarked upon it to anyone. He’d been in love with another man’s wife. The moral torment of that had kept him from taking her away from Cory while she was alive; it hadn’t kept him from keeping her away from Cory after her death. Besides, it had seemed right for Lenore to be here, right for little Rio to be able to have her mama’s grave near enough to take flowers to.