He didn’t flinch at her tone; nor did he respond for a long, silent moment, during which his gaze heated her to the bottom of her feet. “Beats me,” he said with a grin.
Suddenly his mood changed. He slapped his hat against his thigh. “Listen, uh, I’ve got some cattle to load. Soon as we finish, I’ll send Raúl and Sánchez to haul this stuff over to the house for you.”
“I’ve already sent for Clements.” His expression dimmed, and she experienced a twinge of regret. Obviously, he wasn’t used to females taking charge of their own lives. “But thank you,” she added, for what reason she could not fathom.
“When do you figure on goin’ out to Morley’s?” he asked.
“Tomorrow, maybe. I haven’t decided. I wasn’t sure when the train would arrive.”
“I could drive you out there. We’re headin’ for Mexico for another herd of cattle, soon as these are loaded. But I could—”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Well, I’d better get movin’.”
She watched him turn aside, unable to speak what was on her mind, uncertain just what it was, anyway. He spoke to the stationmaster. Turning back to her, he tipped his hat with an unusually solemn expression and headed for the bend in the tracks.
Suddenly Madolyn seized the moment, as Miss Abigail was always instructing women to do. “To get ahead in life, we must seize the moment, ladies. That’s what men do. And I always say, What’s good for the gander is better for the goose.”
Although Madolyn wasn’t certain how the action she had in mind could be termed “getting ahead in life,” she was compelled to act, nonetheless. Instructing the stationmaster to send her parcels along with Clements, she hurried off the platform.
“Mr. Grant,” she called.
Tyler turned in his tracks. He scrutinized her with an unreadable expression as she lifted her skirts and ran toward him. By the time she caught up with him, she was out of breath and her head hummed.
Out of earshot of the crowd, who, she was sure, still gawked after them, Tyler greeted her with a wry grin. “I thought we settled that Mr. Grant nonsense last night.”
At mention of their intimate interlude, the old glow flushed through her. She wanted to meet him eye to eye, but was unable to work up the gumption. “A lady never addresses a gentleman by his given name in public.”
“Well, I suppose that squelches my argument. I may not be much of a gentleman, but you, Miss Sinclair, are one hell of a lady.”
A foreign sense of recklessness took hold of her. “Should I thank you for a compliment, sir, or slap you for an affront?”
He laughed out loud, and she grinned in spite of herself. “I’ll settle for neither, Maddie. What can I do for you?”
Hold me, she thought. For the first time merely standing beside him wasn’t enough. She craved to feel his encompassing presence, not just hovering over her, but surrounding her, claiming her. She gripped her emotions and glanced from side to side before speaking in a hushed voice. “Could I watch you load your cattle?”
“Could you what?”
“Watch you load your cattle?”
His eyes danced, tripping a response deep inside her. “Watch me load my cattle…what?”
She held his gaze, even though sanity cautioned her to turn away, to run away, now, quickly, without tarrying one second longer. But for some unknown reason, she ignored every one of the million or so warning bells that sounded in her brain. “May I watch you load your cattle, Tyler?” Instead of feeling submissive for acquiescing to his request, she enjoyed a sense of triumph.
He felt it, too! Triumph. Even though his response was a casual, “Don’t reckon there’s any harm in that,” she saw triumph in his warm dancing eyes and in the swaggering way he extended his elbow. She heard it in his voice and felt it in the very fiber of his muscles, when she placed her hand on his blue chambray-clad arm and warmed to the way he squeezed her fingers in the crook of his elbow.
And when he led her around the bend to the railroad trap, a tremor sizzled up her spine, and she wasn’t altogether certain she had made a wise decision. If she were triumphant, and he were triumphant, then together…
“Mornin’ Miss Maddie.” Lucky shuffled into the room. “MISS MADDIE! What do you think you’re doin’?”
Madolyn leaned over the basin, squeezing her eyes against the sting of soapy water that dripped down the sides of her face. “Could you bring me a pitcher of clear water, Lucky?”
“Ain’t nobody ever tole you, you can’t wash your hair in a hand basin?”
“A woman does what a woman must,” Madolyn responded, quoting Miss Abigail. For the first time in days, she figured Miss Abigail might approve of something she was doing. Cleanliness was naturally next to godliness.
She heard Lucky set down the breakfast tray, felt her pick up the pitcher from the dressing table.
“It’ll take a minute, honey. Used the last of the hot water for your tea.”
“I don’t need hot water. Just dip a pitcher from the container in the hall.”
“It’ll be cold as field mice’s feet.”
“So was this.”
“I’ll swan,” Lucky clucked to herself; her words drifted off when she left the room to fill the pitcher. “Here it is, honey, but you’re agonna catch your death.”
“Not likely in this heat.” Madolyn covered her eyes with her hands, while Lucky poured clean, cool water over her head.
“You ain’t gonna never get all the soap out this way.” The plump little maid grumbled on, while she squeezed soapy water out of Madolyn’s hair. “What you want to do this for, anyhow? Saturday’s just around the corner.”
“I couldn’t wait for Saturday. Not after all that dust at the railroad trap.”
“Ah, so that’s it.”
“That, whatever you mean, isn’t it at all. I’m going out to my brother’s and I want to look my best.”
“Can’t say’s how it’s agonna help you out none, not with folks like Morley Sinclair. Now Mr. Tyler, he’s another story—”
And one Madolyn did not want to discuss. Not the day after bidding him good-bye. “I think it’s rinsed as much as possible under the circumstances, Lucky. When you get downstairs, would you remind Clements he’s to drive me out to Morley’s today?”
“Sure thing, honey.”
“And tell Goldie I’ll be back tonight. For her not to cancel the women’s quilting session tomorrow.”
“Miss Goldie ain’t too sure that’s agonna work.”
“Of course, it will work. The women know to leave home with bags of scraps and a quilting needle. They know to use the outside staircase. Goldie said you could set up a quilting frame in the spare room next to Mr. Grant’s.”
“That’s where Clements stored them trunks o’ yours.”
“The room next to it,” Madolyn explained.
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know. Looks to me like you’re borrowin’ trouble.”
“No woman borrows trouble, Lucky. The men in our lives thrust it upon us. What we make of it is up to us.” Again she quoted Miss Abigail. Fleetingly she thanked her lucky stars that she was still able to recall a modicum of her mentor’s teachings. She certainly hadn’t recalled any the day before, while watching Tyler and his vaqueros load their cattle. Nor afterwards.
Arriving at the railroad trap, Tyler had stationed her off to the side, behind a railed fence.
“Can’t have all that paraphernalia of yours spookin’ the cattle.”
She hadn’t been sure how to take that, nor what to make of her own startling request to watch the operation. Although in no time she was glad she had. Not being a horsewoman herself, she appreciated the skill Tyler and his vaqueros exhibited. They rode casually in the midst of a hundred or so head of cattle, the largest animals she had ever seen. Their horns reminded her of Price Donnell’s handlebar mustache, only magnified many times over and turned to bone.
The men ea
rned the name cowboys, as they maneuvered their horses with a facility she wouldn’t have imagined possible, cutting in and out among the longhorn cattle, driving them, separating some from others, as though they handled no more than so many gentle milch cows. All the while, they whipped coiled ropes against their chaps and shouted words in Spanish, words she had a notion would sizzle her sensibilities if she understood them.
Neither did she understand the curious glances the vaqueros cast her from time to time. Later, when she questioned Tyler, he brushed it off.
“They’re men, Maddie. You know how men are.”
Actually, she had no idea what he was talking about, but from the gleam in his eye, she decided it best not to pursue the matter.
With the last of the cattle loaded in a slat-sided railcar, Tyler huddled briefly with his vaqueros, then sauntered toward her, slapping his hat against his stained leather chaps. Dust flew all around.
“A danged dusty job,” he commented, reaching her. “What’d you think about it?”
She grinned. “A danged dusty job.”
As though absently, he took her parasol, slid it closed, and tucked it under his arm. He reached for her elbow, then hesitated with a grimace. “I probably smell worse’n the inside of that cattle car.”
“Don’t mind me,” she surprised herself by returning, “I’ve been smelling it all afternoon.”
He cocked his head. His warm brown eyes were just for her. “Sorry you came?”
“No.” Her mouth was dry…from the dust, of course. “Not a bit.” She wasn’t sure what he meant by the question, nor what she meant by her answer, but his hand to her elbow showered her with warmth; his presence covered her like a familiar and beloved blanket. He guided her toward the house, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for them to walk through town side by side. And it felt natural. Far too natural.
Before he could complicate things further, she changed the subject or tried to. “You’re going to Mexico?”
“Yep.”
“Where in Mexico?”
“My ranch. Las Colinas del Rey.”
“Las Colinas del Rey? I haven’t gotten that far in my lessons.”
“Lessons?”
“I told you I was going to learn Spanish.”
He stopped, halting her, too. The look in his eyes was familiar. She had seen it before. Now she knew what it meant. He wanted to kiss her. And heaven help her, if she didn’t want it, too.
At length he resumed their walk toward the House, explaining, “It means Hills of the King. I didn’t name the place, but it’s beautiful, Maddie. Fit for a king…and queen. Again she sensed an underlying subject, and again she tried to change it.
“When will you go?”
“Soon as I see you back to Goldie’s.”
Disconcerted by his directness, she glanced behind her to see the vaqueros riding off toward the center of Buck. The man named Raúl led Tyler’s horse. “Where are they going?”
“To water the horses and get the stationmaster’s voucher for the herd.”
“Shouldn’t you—”
“Raúl can handle it.”
He seemed edgy, suddenly, discomfited. And she certainly was. They walked in silence, yet not in silence, for an aura surrounded them; a humming, as though a hive of bees hovered overhead and advanced with them toward the house. When they crossed the backyard, Madolyn wondered whether anyone was watching and what they thought if they were and what they should be thinking. She didn’t even know what she was thinking. Actually, she was so giddy, even her mind was aflutter. Being escorted across town by a man was a totally new experience, new and extremely pleasing.
Tyler drew her to a halt at the foot of the outside staircase. “So, what’re your plans for my town while I’m gone?” He smiled when he asked it, and she smiled, responding.
“That depends on how long you’ll be gone.”
He laughed. “You have short-term and long-term plans? That’s interestin’.”
“Yes, it is.” Suddenly her brain cleared enough for her to recall her plans for the schoolhouse. “There’s something I wanted to ask, if Loretta hasn’t already—”
Instantly, he sobered. His gaze held hers, serious, intent. “I haven’t seen Loretta James since the meetin’ at the schoolhouse.”
“Oh.” Madolyn fidgeted under his scrutiny. “Well, she said it was all right with her if you agreed, that I should ask you, or she would, that you would—” His hands played across the tops of her shoulders disconcerting her. She ducked her head.
“Stop ditherin’, Maddie.”
Abashed, she glanced up. His warm brown eyes delved into hers, into her brain. Like a schoolgirl’s in early spring, her thoughts flew out the window on the wings of a songbird. Why couldn’t she retain one whit of sense around him? She hated losing control.
“What about the schoolhouse?” he prompted.
“I want to use it for—” Before she finished, his hands had tightened.
“No.”
“No? You don’t even know what I want it for, yet you can’t wait to refuse.”
“I’m not givin’ you one inch in your crusade to take my town, Maddie. This is war.”
His warm smile went a long way toward alleviating her exasperation. “Well said, sir. But, as usual, you misjudged the situation by a mile. I merely want to use the schoolhouse to instruct my nieces and nephews in Loretta’s absence. Any other students who want to attend would be welcome, of course.”
“Instruct your nieces and nephews?” His eyes danced. “What’d ol’ Morley say about that?”
“He doesn’t know…yet.”
“I suppose you plan to spring it on him the same time you tell him about the bank draft.”
“Actually, I hadn’t planned to tell him about the bank draft.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have taken you for a thief.”
“I haven’t stolen anything.”
“I’m tellin’ you, Maddie, I know the ol’ sonofabitch better’n you. He’s goin’ to be…well, I don’t reckon I can describe what I think his reaction will be, since you asked me not to swear in front of you.”
“You wouldn’t recognize swearing if it ran you down in the street,” she quipped, then added in a lofty tone, “it’s an uneducated man who has nothing but swearwords in his vocabulary.”
“Straight from the lips of your precious Miss Abigail, I’d wager.”
“Then you would lose again. I came up with that one by myself.” She bit her bottom lip, in an effort to squelch her urge to grin. “It does fit the situation, don’t you think?”
“If you say so. But I’ll tell you again, it’ll take more than verbal barbs to fend off Morley’s fury when he learns about all your meddlin’.”
“Must you always return to that? Those children are my family. Regardless of what you think, their education is imperative. If I could start them in school this summer…”
While she spoke, he dropped her parasol to the step beside them and backed her against the side of the building. With one booted foot propped on the bottom step, he brought his face to within inches of hers. He was grinning that grin that promised secrets. Her breath caught. Now she knew what those secrets were. She tried to ignore the possibility that her latest pledge was about to be demolished by his lips and that she possessed neither the strength nor the will to resist.
“Use the schoolhouse, Maddie,” he was saying.
“You don’t care?”
“Not enough to spend our last few minutes arguin’ about it.” The words brushed against her skin; his lips followed with agonizing slowness.
She didn’t struggle. She didn’t even consider it. Not with Tyler’s lips wringing every last drop of resistance from her mind. Her opposition became acceptance; her fear turned to need, made even more urgent by the knowledge of what would come.
Of what could come. She slipped her shoulders up the wall, dislodging their lips.
“I’ll take good care of your
town, Tyler.”
“Sure you will.” But he didn’t sound worried, nor even very interested. And his lips, when they reclaimed hers in a wild and sensual game, shattered her sensibilities, leaving her empty and yearning and totally at his mercy. Through the haze she heard horses draw up in the front yard, voices.
“I will,” she assured him, breaking lip contact, once more.
“It doesn’t matter.” His nose nudged hers. His lips pecked at hers. She would never have suspected that grown people could indulge in such playfulness. Or that she, Madolyn Sinclair, could let herself go in such a reckless, wonderful way.
“I don’t figure you can do any damage I can’t straighten out when I get back.” Someone began banging on the front door.
An almost childlike mood pervaded her, except that she didn’t feel like a child. She felt more worldly, more empowered than ever in her life. “The damage I do won’t require straightening out,” she promised.
His eyes danced. “Like hell, it won’t.” And his lips found hers again. Like a runner nearing the end of the race, she was breathless; like a traveler searching for water, she felt anxious and in great need of a consummation she now understood, or thought she did. She tightened her hold around his neck. She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want to be alone. Not now…not before…
“MIS-TER TY-LER!” Lucky bellowed down the staircase from the third floor.
Still wrapped in Tyler’s embrace, Madolyn turned to look up the stairs. Lucky was grinning from ear to ear.
“Them vaqueros of yours is waitin’ out front.” Lucky winked. “You want they should go ahead without you?”
It wasn’t only her face that flushed this time. Madolyn felt her whole body flame at being caught in such a compromising situation. But not once, though embarrassment raced in a heated rush up her neck, not once did she consider removing herself from Tyler’s embrace. Already she dreaded him turning her loose.
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