by Jodi Thomas
Payton’s arms ached as he dropped the bucket into the water well on Amanda’s property and hauled it up so they could wash. The day had held a lot of surprises. He never imagined that he’d find contentment and belonging here. In fact, he’d have told anyone that he most definitely abhorred the little beasts. He was a cowman. Still was, but he was beginning to see where there might be room for both sheep and longhorn.
Maybe it had a lot to do with a beautiful brown-eyed woman whose pliable curves and winsome smile had spoken to his heart.
“Don’t hog all the water, McCord.” Amanda jostled him aside, trying to reach around him.
He held the bucket over his head, daring her to come closer. “That’s some way to treat a hard-working man who slaved over your ornery flock. Besides, I’m a guest, remember? Mind your manners and I’ll think about it.”
The light from Amanda’s eyes shone past his empty days and nights all the way to the center of promise. “You’re right. It’s fair I let you wash first.”
“A lady of reason always sees the error of her ways.” He lowered the bucket.
But Amanda was quick. She dipped in her hand before he knew what she was doing and flung water into his face. Payton blinked and set the bucket down, calmly wiping the droplets that dripped from his mustache. She watched him carefully with a hand covering her mouth; probably to hide laughter was his guess.
“I didn’t mean to do that. I truly didn’t.”
“This is war, lady.” Payton dumped the entire bucket over her head, leaving her sputtering and gasping. “Now we’re even.”
“That wasn’t nice.”
“I know, but it sure was fun.” He hadn’t enjoyed himself this much for a long while. It might’ve been the first time since he grew up and became a man. Lord, it felt good. He wished he could bottle it up for when life wasn’t being so kind.
Payton brushed Amanda’s hair from her eyes, hoping she wasn’t mad. But the mischievous twinkle hadn’t faded. She evidently yearned for a moment of carefree foolery, a time when the weight of the world didn’t weigh her down. He reached for the towel she’d brought from the house and gently dabbed the parts he dared, trying to ignore the swell of her breasts clearly outlined by the plastered dress.
Amanda’s breathing stilled as if she were waiting for something. “McCord, you’re a wicked man.”
“I know.”
She leaned to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Showing me how wrong I was and for making me feel like a woman again. I’d forgotten how it nice it feels.”
By the time he left that evening, his stomach was full to bursting and so was his heart. Though his muscles protested, he had a most satisfying day. Yes, indeed.
He’d learned a lot about Miss Amanda Lemmons, who put on a good show of pretending not to care when she really did. The glistening moisture in her eyes, slight quiver of her lip, and hope hidden behind the rough texture of her voice gave her away.
And he’d learned some things about himself.
Surprisingly, he discovered shearing sheep wasn’t much different from branding cattle. He hadn’t minded working with the scrubby cotton balls. They were sure heavier than they looked. And they didn’t stink as bad as he thought either. Maybe his feelings for Amanda must’ve perfumed the air.
The feel of her breasts cozying up to him when he’d landed on top of her was something he could take extra helpings of—as many as she wanted to heap on his plate.
Her soft lips that kissed like an angel didn’t raise any argument either.
Amanda Lemmons excelled in almost everything. Her cooking left a little to be desired, but if someone tended the sheep so she could devote more time to the art, she’d take to it like a duck to water. He’d bet anything on it. He saw her expertise with the spinning wheel and a few bags of wool. Cooking had to be a snap compared to the difficult chores she did regularly.
Yes, he could visualize spending the rest of his days with Amanda. She was everything a man would be proud to claim. Now to get her defenses lowered until he convinced her of the fact.
The breeze suddenly died and a whiff of his clothes reached his nose. There’d be hell to pay from Amos, Bert, Joe, and the boys. He’d never live it down. But that wasn’t the worst part. If Mr. Sanborn found out how a self-respecting cowman shucked the cattle for sheep, Payton could lose his job.
Where would he go then? He was tired of looking for a place to light. Longings for permanence rumbled in his chest—a home all his own where he could live out his days in peace.
Old memories of what had been ripped from him nagged.
He’d stop by the horse trough and dip himself to get off some of the stink before he bedded down in the bunkhouse. That’d keep a lid on his secret until he could figure how to sweet talk Amanda.
Chapter 12
Payton struggled to keep his thoughts on his job the next day. He saw Amanda’s face in the short prairie grass, in the lazy clouds that drifted overhead, and strangely in the patterns ingrained in the longhorns’ hides.
She totally absorbed him. He couldn’t remember what his life was like before she entered it.
No one had said a word about where he’d been yesterday, although the boys did give him some curious stares. They might suspect, but if so they put a lid on any speculating. That they were capable of keeping their mouths shut surprised Payton.
“Will you be back tomorrow?” Amanda had asked.
“Can’t promise when, but I’ll be here,” he’d replied. “Might be late afternoon. Can’t say.”
Rounding up strays with some of the other range riders far out toward the property line, Payton straightened in the saddle and cast a casual glance toward Amanda’s property as he’d done a million times since breakfast.
An uncomfortable jolt traveled the length of him.
A wisp of smoke rose from where her house stood. A brief play of light on some object? Had to be either that or some dirt had blown in his eyes. He blinked but it didn’t go away. In fact, the smoke grew thicker.
Maybe she decided to burn some brush. But with the wind gusting this way? Even standing directly over the flame, deliberately lighting dry tinder would be foolhardy.
On her worst day no one would call Amanda anything but careful and smart. Alarm skittered up his spine. Trouble brewed in the air. Thick, black trouble.
Fire…Amanda’s place was ablaze.
Payton spurred Domino and raced toward it, vaguely aware of the shouts behind him. He didn’t waste precious seconds to explain. The valiant, sensitive, captivating woman who clung to the small section of land by her fingernails stood to lose everything. Just like him.
The closer he got the angrier and grayer the sky became. He didn’t dare think of her lying still and lifeless.
Lord, give Domino more strength to run.
He rode from the ravine near the adobe structure and saw flames leaping from the bales of hay in the corral. A quick glance located Amanda in front of her home with legs firmly planted. Fraser poised beside her, prepared to battle to the last drop of blood for his mistress. Amanda pointed the rifle in her hands at a group of undesirables—Payton counted four. He slowed up and slid to the ground, yanking his Winchester from the scabbard.
They hadn’t seen him yet, which fit into his plan.
No one had better hurt his beautiful lady. Payton guaranteed that. He gritted his teeth and sneaked forward.
“You can’t shoot us all, Miss Lemmons. Besides, there’s more left to take up the fight than you can get rid of,” one man shouted. “And we have the Association to back us up. What do you have but a bunch of scraggly mutton, a worthless hound, and a shack? We oughta put you out of your misery. It’d be the humane thing to do.”
If they did it’d be the last thing they’d remember before he blew them off the face of the earth.
Answering the threat, Fraser lunged, aiming to take a chunk out of the attacker’s leg. The man kicked at the dog, missin
g.
Amanda squeezed off a shot, barely missing the assailant’s toes. “You hurt my dog and I’ll send you back to town dragging a bloody stump.”
They might not believe her capable, but Payton knew she delivered no idle threat. The scrappy woman was tough as rawhide.
“Your mangy sheep are ruining land meant for cattle,” yelled another varmint. “We aim to take it back.”
“You won’t take back a God-blessed thing,” Amanda answered with steel in her voice. “This rifle will make sure of that. Who gives you the right to trespass onto the property of a law-abiding citizen and give me orders? I want a name.”
Payton crept behind the foursome. If one sneezed it’d be too bad. He’d gladly bury them at Boot Hill.
“We have a long list of people who want you gone by whatever means. Maybe we’ll just hafta kill you,” the ringleader sneered.
“Kill her and get ready to kill me, too.” Payton pumped a cartridge into the rifle with an abrupt up and down motion. The men whirled and Payton recognized them as skunk bait from the Amarillo Belle saloon. “You’ll discover you have a big job in doing either.”
“McCord, you cross to her side now? Thought you stood with the cattlemen.” The man Payton knew as George Anders glared.
“The only sides here are right and wrong. I’m proud to say I’m on the right one at last.” He met Amanda’s brown, liquid gaze and winked. Relief and happiness shone back, though she had the situation under control. Except for the bales of hay that were too far gone to save. They didn’t pose a risk to the house, thank goodness.
The mob exchanged shiftless glances, revealing their change of heart before George started sniveling. “We was only having some fun. Didn’t mean to cause no harm.”
Amanda’s features remained stone cold. “Pitch your weapons to the ground. Now!”
“What’re you gonna do?” George whined, obeying.
She stalked to a satchel leaning against the stone corral and pulled out the leg irons, manacles, and handcuffs. Payton grinned at the fear on the trespassers’ faces. She’d finally found a use for the devices after all—and they weren’t going to keep the men bound to her, but to tote them to jail.
He helped shackle the scoundrels to the fence and left Fraser to stand guard. “Can I have a word with you, darlin’?”
Amanda wore a questioning scowl, but followed him into the small shed that housed the wagon. Once inside, he turned on his heels and captured her face between his palms. With tender passion, he drank his fill of the wild determination that was his to claim.
The arms that stole around his neck bore no hint of a woman who’d almost given up on life on one moonlit night. His lady had strength to fight for what she wanted. He only prayed she wanted an old, broken-down cowhand with two cents to his name.
They were meant for each other, her with a past riddled with disappointment and misery and him…Well, he figured she might just need someone around to remind her occasionally that life goes on no matter if a person gets busted and bruised all to hell. He was an authority on that subject.
“Marry me,” he whispered against her mouth when he caught his breath. “I want to spend my days and nights loving everything about you.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I absolutely do. There are givers and takers, lovers and leavers.” Payton leaned back so he see clearly eyes the color of rich cocoa. Questions in her stare made it hard to form the words. “I have a heart bursting with love for you. I’m a giver and a lover. I want to give you so much love I don’t know where to start. And I damn sure will never leave. When I pledge something, it’s for good.”
“I’ve trusted before and lived to regret it.”
His thumb caressed the hollow in her cheek. “Darlin’, I wish I could take away every bit of hurt people have dealt you. I’d be lying if I said I could. I reckon we just have to live by faith, one day at a time, until each festering sore heals.”
“You have any other reasons to give up your freedom? Seems you’re pretty set in your ways to think of change.”
If he mentioned getting naked and exploring every curve, hill, and valley, would she cart him to jail along with the trespassers? Bold excitement filled him. He’d better save that for later.
“The next time someone comes gunning for you I want to be here. It’s the only way I can keep you safe—the only way I can sleep at night.”
“You think one man can even the odds?”
The wink was lazy and deliberate. “I know the secret handshake.”
“Awful sure of yourself.”
The smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes gave hope. Payton pushed back his hat with a forefinger. “I promise if I cause you pain I’ll load the gun and stand still so you can shoot me. Can you beat a deal like that?”
“It’s a fair offer.” Her chin raised. “But, I won’t be pressured. A decision this big deserves thought.”
“Just so you know…I’m not going away. I’ll badger you like a dog chasing a possum.”
“Damn, you’re romantic, McCord.”
Payton grinned. “I see you found that out.”
At that moment, something whined, brushing his leg. He glanced down. Fraser sat on his haunches, his tail wagging furiously. Amanda’s watchdog and faithful companion grinned with the old mangled Stetson in his mouth, obviously pleased with the token he offered.
“I swear, Fraser’s burying the hatchet? Even the rabid animal has a tender spot for me.”
That afternoon in Amarillo, Amanda strolled down the street, humming a tune and planning a wedding that she hadn’t committed to in anything but theory. It didn’t matter. She knew she would when the time was good and proper. She’d already given her noble cowboy the key to her heart and a map of how to get there.
Nearing the Amarillo Hotel, her steps slowed, recalling the day they met. It would always be a place of significance.
Her chest swelled with happiness and contentment. They had things still to iron out in this newly formed arrangement, but she harbored no doubt that they could solve any problems.
All of a sudden a lean, handsome figure with a certain swagger, wearing a brand new Stetson, exited the hotel in a hurry. She ducked into the shadow of a doorway. Not that Payton McCord stood any chance of seeing her with the voluptuous Mavis Harper plastered to him. No, he wasn’t paying anything any mind except the hussy in his arms and the lust in her gaze.
Shock and hopelessness knocked the wind from Amanda.
Tears swam in her eyes. Against better judgment she’d put aside each old fear and trusted someone again. How could Payton betray her this way and so publicly? It was evident he had no trace of the honor and integrity that he’d projected in his declaration of love a few hours ago. He took her for a fool. An utter, stupid, blind fool with a tin cup.
Well, she’d not cower in the shadows like some waif. She’d stand up and show the man for the conniver he was. Amanda took a deep breath and stepped into their path.
“You double-crossing, two-timing rat! I thought your word meant something.”
Payton hadn’t expected to get caught, judging by the bobble of his Adam’s apple as he tried to swallow and instead choked on his spit. Mavis Harper’s garish mouth formed a silent O.
“This isn’t what it looks like, darlin’,” Payton began.
Bitter disappointment scalded the back of her eyelids.
“Don’t darlin’ me.” Amanda hauled off and kicked his shinbone. “I’m only glad I found out how far you’d love and cherish, and with how many others, before the ceremony.”
Payton hopped around in a circle, holding his ankle.
“What ceremony? You wrote me a love letter,” Mavis insisted. “She’s right, you are a two-timing rat.” Delivering a kick to his other shin, Mavis flounced toward the Panhandle Herald office with revenge evidently in mind.
“Wait just a cotton pickin’ minute. This was all Joe’s doing. Mavis, I didn’t write anything. And Amanda,
I promised if I caused you pain I’d load a gun and let you shoot me.” Payton jerked his Colt from the holster. “Before I hand this over, grant a dying man a last request.”
Even as anger coursed through her, she wondered what kind of man would barter with his own life.
One who had nothing to lose or one who had everything to gain? Her brain whirled. She couldn’t spill his blood no matter how furious he made her.
He’d spoken of love and kissed like the prince she dreamed would stand by her side and whose arms would be strong enough to withstand the buffeting winds of the cattlemen’s greed. She had to consider in all fairness that Payton gave more than he took.
Too bad she misjudged his honor.
“Make it quick with this request of yours. I have…I…Damn.” Tears clogged her throat. This was worse than standing at the altar alone in Santa Fe because she’d gone into it knowing another betrayal would strangle the very life from her. And this time it would be a permanent condition.
“Give me one kiss.”
“A kiss? One?” It came out squeaky and not at all the way she wanted.
“Yep. That’s it.”
Amanda didn’t dare agree. The rugged cowboy’s kisses were addictive. One kiss would simply fuel the fire for more. And if she gave in to that, he’d murmur those words of endearment against her lips and she’d be forever lost.
“Seems an odd thing to ask of a scorned woman.”
Heavy sorrow in Payton’s gaze reached inside her soul. “Have you ever loved someone so much it feels like you can’t breathe? And even if you knew the next gulp of air would bury you six feet under, you’d take it anyway if it meant being near them?”
Her voice came soft. “I have.”
“Without you I might as well be dead. Hell, I don’t want Mavis. You’re a million times the woman Mavis is. The woman thought I wrote those love letters. She threw herself on me like a crazed animal that had a gut full of locoweed.”