Single In The Saddle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “They are not in the same category!”

  “I didn’t say they were. I was just making a point. The salad’s not bad, by the way. Why aren’t you eating?”

  “I...don’t feel very hungry.” She pushed back her chair. “Listen, why don’t you give my steak to Chi? I think I’ll go for a walk before it gets completely dark.”

  He regarded her quietly. “I know it sounds terrible that I don’t want a family. Most guys do. But I know myself, and I’m just not the type. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s the truth. If you thought otherwise, you’re probably thinking of the guy in those letters. That guy isn’t me.”

  “That’s obvious.” She crumpled her napkin beside her plate and stood. “I’ll be back to help with the dishes. I just need some air.”

  “Maybe I’d better go with you.”

  “I’d rather go alone.” He was the last person she wanted with her at the moment.

  “Then take the dog with you. There might be snakes out this time of the evening, and she’ll let you know if they’re around.”

  Daphne had forgotten about poisonous snakes. And dusk was a prime time for them. “Come on, Chi,” she said. “Take a walk with me, okay, girl?”

  The retriever hopped up from her bed in the corn and trotted over to Daphne’s side. Daphne started out of the kitchen.

  “Don’t go too far,” Stony called after her. “Please.”

  “I won’t. I don’t want to cause you any problems.”

  Once outside the front door, she fought tears. Her dream was finally and truly dead. Even though she’d told herself to abandon all hope that Stony could ever be the man she wanted, she hadn’t done that until now. She’d allowed herself to continue to care for him, even to fall a bit in love with him.

  She hadn’t expected miracles. Stony would naturally be resistant to having a woman thrust on him, but deep in her heart, she’d believed Jasper knew what he was doing.

  Wiping furiously at her eyes, she headed in the direction of the barn. Horses were good company at a time like this. Horses and dogs. She was glad Chi trotted along by her side, giving silent comfort.

  The barn door stood open on this warm summer night, and once inside, Daphne took a deep sniff, enjoying the familiar scent of hay, old lumber, leather and horses. A cricket chirped nearby, and a horse blew air through its nostrils. She could hear the sound of munching. Dinner-time.

  A pretty little horse with a white star on its forehead poked its nose out of the first stall and gave Daphne the once-over.

  “Dam, I should have brought carrots,” Daphne said, heading toward the friendly horse. The light was fading fast, but she could still make out that it was a chestnut, one of her favorite colors. “Or broccoli.” The laughter seemed to stick in her throat. Her little scene with Stony at the grocery store seemed a million years ago. They’d had a domestic spat, and the very typical nature of it had fed her fantasy that there might be a happily-ever-after to this story. She’d been a fool

  “What’s your name, pretty baby?” she asked the chestnut as she peeked into the stall and discovered the horse was a mare, as she’d suspected from the delicate bone structure. She stroked the mare’s soft muzzle and looked into her brown eyes. “I’m surprised they keep you around,” she murmured.

  The mare’s ears flicked forward.

  “I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but this ranch is strictly for manly men.” Daphne scratched along the base of the mare’s burnt orange mane. “The owner doesn’t want pesky females in his life. It’s a wonder he keeps any heifers, except he is in the business of raising cattle. He must hate that.”

  “Daphne, is that you in there?”

  She sighed. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with Jasper. “It’s me.”

  “I wager you and Stony had a fight.”

  Daphne continued to stroke the mare’s neck. “Not really.”

  “Sure sounded like it to me. He came down to the bunkhouse lookin’ ornery and wanting to scare up a card game. Brought his bottle of J.D. When I asked him where you were, he said he didn’t know, but the dog was with you, so you were probably okay.”

  “He doesn’t really care if I’m okay or not, Jasper.”

  “Oh, I believe he does.” Jasper came over to her and leaned against the stall door while he fished in his back pocket for his can of chewing tobacco. “He made it sound real casual, but he pretty much asked if I’d mosey around the place and see if I could find you. Said you wouldn’t want him to look for you, but somebody better, seein’ as how you didn’t know your way around yet and it was gettin’ dark.”

  Daphne turned toward him. “Jasper, give it up. Stony might feel responsible for me the way he’d feel responsible for any living creature on this ranch, but he’d rather not have me around if he could avoid it I’ve let you talk me into believing otherwise, but it isn’t true. It’s cruel to lead me to believe Stony could ever care for me.”

  Jasper stuck a plug of tobacco under his lower lip and closed the can carefully. “I’ve played fast and loose with you, ma’am, and I admit that.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. You’ve had me on a roller coaster, Jasper, and I don’t appreciate it.”

  “I don’t blame you none. I done it all for that boy, you know. It just about killed me when he said he’d never get married. If his daddy only realized...”

  Daphne knew it wasn’t wise to hear yet another story that might soften her heart, but Stony was a puzzle she couldn’t resist trying to solve, in spite of everything. “What do you mean?”

  Jasper settled his tobacco beneath his lip and leaned against the stall. “I wish you coulda knowed his mama. Jolene was quite a woman—educated, strong-minded. While they traveled around to all the rodeos, she home-schooled Stevie, which is why he talks better’n most of us and even knows some poetry she made him learn by heart.”

  “Wait a minute. Did you just call him Stevie?”

  Jasper looked startled. “Did I? Must’ve been thinkin’ about the old days that did that. Stony’s given name is Steven, but after Jolene died he turned into such a little poker face that everybody took to calling him Stony. I don’t suppose anybody but me remembers his real name. ’Course I would, bein’ his godfather and all.”

  “His godfather. I didn’t realize.” That certainly helped explain Jasper’s meddling ways, Daphne thought. He obviously took his role seriously.

  “Not many know that, either, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention that I told you either of them things, his real name or me bein’ his godfather. The other hands don’t know, and I think Stony wants it that way.”

  “I understand.”

  “Now, Jolene, she was the strong one in that marriage, and she passed that on to her son. Stony’s daddy is basically weak, and when Jolene died, he started on the bottle and hasn’t stopped since.”

  Daphne could feel her anger toward Stony slipping away, and with it the protection anger could give her against a broken heart.

  “Kids have funny logic sometimes,” Jasper continued. “Stony made up his mind that he shouldn’t get married, because if somethin’ happened to his wife, he’d turn into a drunk like his daddy. He could barely stand losin’ his mama, and so he thinks lovin’ someone is too dangerous. Riding bulls, that don’t faze him. But love, that scares the spit out of him, even though he’s got a lot of love just achin’ to get out.”

  “He loves you,” Daphne guessed.

  “I believe he does. And the dog and that bay gelding of his. And even his sorry excuse for a daddy. From the signs, I think he could come to love you.”

  “Oh, Jasper.” Daphne sighed and rested her head against the chestnut’s warm neck. “You do ask a lot of a girl.”

  “I found me one who’s up to the job.”

  “I’m not so sure. Did you see the look on his face when I suggested a fountain? He hates change.”

  “You’re gonna get your fountain, ma’am. Whatcha need me to do?”

  Daphne lifted he
r head and glanced at him. “A truckload of big, smooth stones would be a start. I’m thinking of making a waterfall.”

  Jasper nodded. “I’ll see to it.”

  “The waterfall will be a piece of cake, Jasper, but I have my doubts about turning Stony around.”

  “Just so’s you don’t give up. Come on, I’ll walk you back to the house. Everythin’ will look brighter in the morning’. Always does.”

  After Daphne bid Jasper good-night, she went into the kitchen and found it clean. There was a note from Stony saying her dinner was in the refrigerator. She found it there, neatly wrapped. She shared some of the steak with Chi and used the rest to make herself a sandwich.

  From the sound of things, Stony wouldn’t be back very soon, so she decided to occupy herself by rearranging the kitchen cupboards. While she was at it, she even moved the table to a different spot and took a vase of flowers from the living room to put in the middle.

  Finally she felt tired enough to go to sleep, so she turned out the lights and went into her room. Too bad she didn’t have a granny gown to wear to bed, she thought as she put on another of her filmy, short nightgowns. But she’d chosen nightwear with a different scenario in mind.

  Jasper’s revelations had helped her understand Stony better, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. But now that she knew what she was up against, she wondered if Jasper wasn’t foolishly hoping for a miracle.

  10

  A LOUD CRASH brought Daphne wide awake and sent Chi tearing out of the bedroom, her toenails skidding on the wooden floor. As Daphne leaped out of bed, heart pounding, she heard a string of colorful curses in a voice she recognized. With a sense of relief, she headed down the hall. At least the intruder was a known quantity.

  The kitchen light flashed on just before she reached the doorway, and the cursing had changed to muttering. She walked just inside the room and surveyed the damage. In a repeat of her bedroom accident, the table had been tipped over and the vase of flowers lay broken and mangled on the floor. Chi cowered in her bed in the corn, and Stony was on his hands and knees, his hat shoved to the back of his head while he talked to the dog.

  “Ish all her fault, Dog,” he said, weaving a little. “Ever‘time I turn around, somethin’s been moved. I jish wanted a glash a’water. Ish that too mush to ashk?”

  “I moved the table,” Daphne said. “I didn’t know you’d try to find your way around in the dark.”

  Stony continued to address Chi. “Ish her. Devil woman.”

  “Oh, that’s me, all right.” Daphne walked over and picked up the small plastic trash can. “All my attempts to make the place look nicer are really an evil plot to cast a spell on you and make you my slave.”

  “I wish she’d be my shlave,” he muttered to the dog. “I’d kish her all over.”

  Even though Daphne knew how drunk he was, that remark had an effect on her. Her hand trembled slightly as she crouched down to pick up the pieces of broken vase and the flowers. He must have stepped on them, because they were mangled beyond hope.

  “I think you’d better go to bed, Stony,” she said, carefully kneeling in the carnage. “Chi seems okay, and I’ll dean this up.”

  Still on all fours, he scooted around so he was facing her. “Come with me,” he said, a goofy grin on his face.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” He sounded like a whiny little kid. “I wash good to you.”

  Too good. She continued picking up the shards of glass. “It’s against my principles. Did you win at cards?”

  “Didn’t play long. Jashper and me took a bottle t’the barn. Got a little shmashed.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Le’s go t‘bed, you’n’ me.”

  “No. Besides, you’re too drunk to accomplish anything, anyway.”

  “Am not.” He started crawling toward her.

  “Wait! There’s glass—”

  He yelped and picked up his hand. The heel of it was bleeding. “Somethin’ bit me!”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Don’t move.” Taking care not to step on any remaining bits of glass herself, Daphne got up and went to the counter, where she ripped a paper towel off the roll and dampened it at the sink. Grabbing a whisk broom, she brushed the area in front of him quickly before kneeling down and taking his hand in hers.

  She pressed the damp paper towel against the cut, then took it away again to assess the injury. Fortunately it was small. A few moments with the pressure of the damp paper towel should stop the bleeding long enough to get a bandage on it.

  “I can shee down the front a your nightie.”

  She glanced up at him. “Don’t look.”

  “I like to. Beaut’ful. Let me kish you there.”

  “No.” She checked his wound again, all the while trying to convince herself his drunken suggestions weren’t arousing her. But they were.

  “It’ll feel s-o-o-o good.”

  “Enough of that talk, Stony. I’ll help you up and we’ll go into the bathroom for a bandage. Then you can get right into bed.” Moving under his armpit, she draped his arm around her shoulders and tried to get him up off his knees.

  He didn’t budge. “Come t’bed with me. Wanna be inside you.”

  “No. Now, come on and help me here.”

  “Okay.” He heaved himself upward with obvious effort. “Mebbe I’m drunk.”

  “It’s possible.” She did her best to keep him steady as they wobbled across the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. Along the way his hat fell off.

  “Need m’hat.”

  “I’ll get it later.” Once inside the bathroom, she leaned him against the wall while she turned on the light and searched for a bandage.

  “You’re pretty as a piglet,” he mumbled. “Wanna kish you all over.”

  “So you said.” She found the bandage and put it over the cut, smoothing the adhesive strip gently in place. “Okay, now to bed.”

  “I need help.”

  She looked into his eyes and saw a gleam there, as if through his whiskey-induced fog he’d figured out how to coax her to bed with him. “I’ll get you as far as the bed, but I’m not joining you in it. I’m holding out for a man who truly loves me. Let’s go.” She hooked her shoulder under his armpit and they made their clumsy way back down the hall.

  “I truly love going t’bed with you, Daph.”

  “That’s not the same thing as loving me.”

  “Close.”

  “Not even close.” She got him through the door and over to the bed. “I guess you can sleep in your clothes.” Releasing her hold, she allowed him to topple sideways onto the mattress. As he did, he pulled her down on top of him.

  She struggled, but he had a pretty good grip for a drunken man. Something crinkled under his shirt as she tried to get away. “What’s inside your shirt?”

  “Letters.”

  “My letters?”

  “Yup.”

  “Did you read them?”

  “Yup. Pretty nightie.” He rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

  She didn’t know if the letter-reading had been Jasper’s idea or Stony’s, but apparently that’s what had kept Stony so late, having drinks with Jasper and reading her letters. But now wasn’t the time to discuss them, if he even remembered what he’d read.

  “Let me up, Stony.”

  “In jus’ a minute.” He cradled his head against her breasts. “Nice.” With a sigh of contentment, he went to sleep.

  Gradually his hold on her relaxed, and she knew that soon she’d be able to wriggle out from under him and leave him to sleep off his overindulgence. But she didn’t need to rush. Closing her eyes, she reached up and gently ran her fingers through his hair.

  STONY AWOKE LATER THAN usual, and the chirping birds outside his window gave him no pleasure whatsoever. He threw a pillow at the open window and the movement scared the birds away. Sinking back onto the bed, he massaged his aching head.

  He’d been plowed the night before, but not s
o plowed that he didn’t remember knocking over the table and Daphne taking care of things after that. He’d pulled her down on the bed with him, rolled on top of her, and...if he’d made love to her, he sure didn’t remember. And if he had made love to her and couldn’t even relive the pleasure now, that would really tick him off.

  Chances were he hadn’t been successful with her, considering he was still wearing all his clothes, even his boots. He doubted she would have dressed him afterward.

  Then he remembered the packet of letters and patted his shirt. Still there. Unsnapping his shirt, he pulled out the envelopes, a little crinkled for having slept on them all night. Reading about Daphne’s hopes and dreams in those pages had been a painful experience, dulled a little by good old Jack Daniel’s.

  One thing was certain from the letters—Daphne was determined to choose the right husband the first time and not end up like her mother, who was on her fourth marriage. Daphne had thought he was her answer, her knight in shining armor. He must be a hell of a big disappointment to her.

  He smelled bacon. She must be up and cooking already. With a groan he heaved himself out of bed and staggered down to the bathroom. It was filled with her scent and he groaned again. Thanks to her, he was hung-over, feeling guilty and also extremely horny. Damn poor combination.

  A shower and shave improved things some. Wearing only a towel, he returned to the bedroom. He almost wished she’d come back to check on him and find him half naked. Then nature could sort of take its course, and at least one of his problems would be handled.

  Cagey woman that she was, of course, she didn’t show up while he dressed. She could catch him off guard by parading around in little bits of satin and lace—last night they’d been yellow, as he recalled—but she apparently sensed when he might be wearing nothing but a smile and stayed away.

  And to be fair, it was really his own damned fault he was in this condition. If he hadn’t already made love to her, he wouldn’t be going crazy wanting seconds. He understood now why they gave out free samples at the ice cream shop.

  Although his stomach felt a little queasy this morning, the aroma of cooking bacon tickled a sweet memory of his mother making breakfast around a campfire when they’d spent a few days in the mountains of New Mexico. He wasn’t prepared for the fierce ache in his heart as that memory took hold.