Western Seduction (The Seduction Series Book 2)

by Brenda Jernigan

  Shannon placed her fork on the table. How could she penetrate his deliberate blank gaze? Looking him square in the eye, she told him, “I resent that.”

  Luke appeared surprised, and he drew his brows together in a frown. “What?”

  “Dinna presume that I'll not survive.” She shook her finger at him then brushed the loose hair that had fallen into her eyes away from her face. Oh, but he was a stubborn one. “And if I do die, what will it matter tae ye, mon?” She pointed out. “I'm only hired help, not yer wife. So what do ye huv tae lose?”

  Though he wanted to, Luke couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the woman across from him. He tried hard not to smile at her brash statement as sparks seemed to flash deep in her emerald green eyes. Even after she was gone he would never forget a single detail of her face. My God, she was lovely, or would be if she let her odd colored hair out of the severe bun she’d fashioned on top of her head. This was not the pinch-faced older woman he’d wanted to hire; nor someone he could ignore and simply go about his business.

  How could anyone ignore such radiant red hair and those sparkling emerald eyes? Even now, he was fighting his own battle of personal restraint. He had to send her away. He knew he didn't want her to die. Why? He wasn't sure. Nor did he want to find out.

  Luke hadn’t looked twice at any woman since his wife’s death. He tried to keep her memory pure. The deadness inside him would never go away, nor would his guilt or the fear that her death had been his fault. He had to admit, though, that his body had reacted the first moment he’d seen Miss McKinley. Where the admission came from, he didn’t know. It seemed to have been dredged from a place beyond logic and reason. But it was nothing, he told himself. The woman had to go.

  “Have you finished your meal?” Luke asked abruptly.

  “'Twas delicious,” Shannon said as she daintily dabbed at her mouth with a cloth. “Thank ye.”

  Luke wiped his mouth, tossed his napkin on the table and stood. “Let's go.” He picked up his black hat.

  Shannon wanted to smile. He was going to let her stay. She could feel it. But she thought better than to show a smug smile.

  They left the Blue Bell and started back toward the post office, a two-story frame building on the southeast corner of town. They paused twice as the townsfolk stopped them to greet Mr. Griffin. Shannon waited patiently, wondering why they were returning to the post office, and why he wasn’t taking the time to introduce her to the people of the town. Perhaps he'd forgotten to get all his mail.

  When they were moving again, she asked, “How far is your ranch?”

  “Five miles out of town. But I'm afraid you won’t be seeing it, because I'm sending you right back to where you came from.”

  Shannon's felt her cheeks burn hot, and she was sure they had turned bright red. Her voice trembled with indignation when she said, “Ye brought me all the way out here just tae send me back? Yer a pig-headed fool, mon.”

  Luke threw back his head and laughed. “That, I don't deny, but you’re still going back home. I'll not have you die on me.”

  “For God’s sake, mon. I'm not gonna die!”

  Luke opened the post office door, leaving her alone on the boardwalk. But she was smart enough to stand close enough so she could hear and see what was being said.

  “Where is Shorty?”

  A heavyset man from behind the counter looked up. “He's already gone. Said he was running behind and had to make up time.”

  “Shit!” Luke swore then spun on his heel to leave.

  Smiling, Shannon managed to move away from the door so he wouldn’t know that she was eavesdropping. He marched through the doorway, letting the screen door slam behind him. For a moment, he just stared across the street, his hands on his hips. Finally he swung around to face her. Again he didn’t speak. It appeared to her that he was trying to control his temper.

  “Now what?” she asked innocently.

  “It seems, Miss McKinley . . .” He took a deep breath. “Shorty has already left. Appears I have no choice, but to keep you since I can’t leave you in town unescorted until the stage returns. I guess you are my responsibility so you have a job for thirty days. Maybe by then I’ll have found another nanny. Until then, you can work for your keep.”

  Shannon smiled triumphantly, lifted her chin and boldly met his gaze. “I'll try not tae die on ye in the next month.”

  She noticed a small smile quirk his lips, but he quickly turned away from her. He might be a stubborn, but so was she.

  “Quit gloating and come on. Time’s a wasting,” Luke said, taking her arm and ushering her along the boardwalk. Not bothering to stop, he added, “You haven’t met my children yet. You could be running for the stage when the time comes.”

  * * *

  Alasdair and Callum McKinley arrived in Cottonwood three hours behind the stagecoach carrying Shannon and the Miller sisters. Both were covered in the white trail dust.

  “Are ye sure this is the town Shannon came tae?” Alasdair asked, a note of doubt in his voice.

  Callum pulled down the red handkerchief covering his mouth. “Aye, the mon at the last depot described a young lass with hair like the setting sun boarding the stage fer Cottonwood.”

  “Why in God’s name she’d want tae live in this brown, dusty place is beyond me, especially when she could have the rollin’ green hills of Scotland.”

  “She deserted her clan,” Callum said, then added, “Ye must not be forgettin’ that Angus promised that she would marry Buchanan. Now he looks foolish that his daughter up and ran away.”

  “I have not forgettin’,” Alasdair said. “We must find her and take her home.”

  “Then we better start lookin’ around and see what information we can find. We won’t get much done by standin’ around and the sooner we can leave this God forsaking place the better.”

  “Hopefully the lass will see reason and come home peacefully,” Alasdair said.

  “Aye, but if not, she will huv tae be persuaded one way or the other.”

  Chapter 3

  Shannon walked with Mr. Griffin toward a wagon. She noticed a man dressed similarly to her boss standing near the back. Reddish brown hair and blue eyes, the stranger was several inches shorter than Mr. Griffin and had a warm, friendly smile.

  “This is Wilson, my foreman at the ranch,” Luke said.

  “Ma’am,” Wilson touched a finger to the brim of his hat before favoring her with another smile. She noticed he had a bandage on his arm and wondered if he’d been involved in the shootout too.

  “Mr. Wilson,” Shannon said.

  “Just Wilson,” Luke corrected, handling her up onto the seat.

  Shannon had thought that riding in a mail coach had been bad, until she climbed upon the conveyance Mr. Griffin called a buckboard. She thought the name certainly appropriate since the seat was little more than a rough, hard board nailed to the front of a crude wagon.

  Both men loaded the two trunks on the buckboard while Shannon watched, impressed by their strength. When they were ready to go, she placed her valise under the hard board where she sat.

  Climbing up beside her, Luke took the reins in his gloved hands then sent Wilson ahead on horseback to warn everyone that she was coming, as he’d put it. Shannon wasn’t too sure what that meant since the houses she’d seen so far didn’t require a staff like Uncle Montgomery had, and there would likely be no grand homes in the wilds of Texas, anyway. Would she be the only civilized person on Mr. Griffin’s ranch?

  They hadn’t been riding very long before Shannon realized that Luke wasn't the example of a witty conversationalist. Thirty minutes passed in dead silence as she turned her attention to the passing landscape of barren land.

  Mr. Griffin had propped his left boot on a running board, and his elbow rested on his leg as he held the reins between gloved fingers and stared straight ahead. Even in his relaxed posture, his confidence was apparent in the way he expertly drove the team of horses, but if he remembered she was there, he di
dn’t acknowledge the fact. He was nothing like the English gentleman who’d crowded around her vying for her attention. She tried not to be offended but still . . .

  In spite of his rudeness, Shannon really couldn’t imagine that his children could possibly be as bad as he’d let on. More likely he was trying to frighten her away. And he had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want her to stay. She was too frail to live and work on his ranch. Well she’d prove him wrong, she mused, chancing a glance at him from beneath her lowered lashes.

  His firm chin spoke of his stubbornness, not that she needed something else to remind her of that. He’d demonstrated his hard-headedness very clearly with his unwillingness to see reason. However, what he lacked in manners, he made up for in appearance. His tanned, rugged face spoke of his love for the outdoors, and she couldn’t help wondering if the tan faded in the winter months. She would find out for herself, assuming she was still with the family when winter came.

  There was something compelling about him, she had to admit. His eyes were most expressive, but he shielded his emotions. She suspected he kept many secrets hidden deep in his soul, secrets he didn’t care to share with anyone. She wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone like him. He seemed very direct, yet she sensed he held something back.

  She fervently hoped he would change his mind about her.

  She needed this position. Considering the wide-open spaces they were passing through, she was certain her father would not be likely to find her out here.

  After an hour, Shannon finally asked with a wry smile, “Do ye normally talk this much?” Even arguing would be better than this silence while they traveled.

  Luke Griffin turned and glanced at her, a slow smile reluctantly brushing his lips. “Pretty much.”

  She really didn’t need to be looking at his lips, Shannon told herself sternly. Full, with a hint of softness, they were much too inviting and caused her to wonder how well he kissed. Not that she’d likely find out. She was there to be his nanny, not his paramour. But still. . . “Huv ye had many gunfights like the one I saw?”

  “Too many,” he answered grimly. When it appeared he wasn’t going to explain further, Shannon decided she’d have to drag it out of him. But to her surprise, he said, “Sorry you had to see that fight back in town.”

  “I've seen men fightin' before in Scotland, but never quite like that. They’re more likely tae be shoutin’ that they’re gettin’ ready tae kill each other. Their method o’ fightin’ is broadswords and bare hands.”

  “I think I prefer our way a little better,” Luke commented wryly.

  Shannon looked at him for a moment, startled at his attempt at humor. If that was supposed to be humor, she didn’t quite know how to respond. “Is there some kind o’ authority here in Cottonwood or a laird who controls the town?”

  “Laird?”

  “One mon who makes all the rules. The one all the others report tae.”

  “Most towns have a sheriff, but Cottonwood doesn’t have one at the moment. Afraid there isn’t much law in Texas Territory. Mostly, we protect and safeguard our property any way we see fit. The worst crime is horse-stealing.”

  Shannon’s mouth dropped open. “Even more than killing a mon?”

  “Yep.”

  She saw a devilish spark in Luke’s eyes that made him appear boyish. Evidently, he was amused that horses were more valuable than living men. In spite of that thought, she liked his wry humor. Perhaps, Mr. Griffin took pleasure in her company even if he didn’t want to admit it.

  Despite his earlier silence, Shannon most certainly enjoyed his company, especially the way his solid form brushed against her every time the wagon rolled through a rut in the road, which was very peculiar since she normally didn’t like men touching her at all. She’d had enough of her father grabbing her. Yet she enjoyed watching Mr. Griffin’s strong hands grip the reins, his long legs shifting as he guided the horses. She felt comfortable with him even if he was a perfect stranger.

  “Ye mean everyone values a horse’s life higher than that o’ a mon?”

  Mr. Griffin shoved his hat back a little so he could look at her. His green eyes sparkled. “Yep. Know how it sounds, but a man without a horse is pretty much a dead man out here.”

  “So did ye steal the mon's horse? Is that what ye were fightin’ aboot?”

  “What man?” Luke glanced at her as if she were completely daft.

  “The mon ye shot.” Shannon couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep up with the conversation. “Is that what ye were fightin’ aboot?”

  “Nope.” Luke shook his head and let out an impatient sigh. “He was a hothead looking to make a reputation for himself as a gunslinger, Thought he could add a notch to his belt by shooting me.”

  “I dinna ken.”

  “Beg your pardon,” he looked at her. “Ken?”

  “Aye, ken,” she paused. “Understand.”

  “He was a man who liked to kill and then brag about how many men he'd killed. The more important the victim, the bigger the man feels.”

  Shannon thought that over for a moment. These men killed for fun. How barbaric! And she’d thought America was civilized. Now she wondered. “So yer important?”

  He chuckled. “I guess you could say I used to be.”

  “Well I'm glad he dinna kill ye.”

  “Me too,” Luke grinned, studying her from beneath the brim of his hat. The woman really was like a breath of fresh air with her obvious understatement. And with her trim figure and that glorious mane of red hair, she’d primly pinned up beneath her hat, no doubt his ranch hands would flock to her side and bend over backwards to please her. He frowned at the thought as the wagon hit another rut in the road. Shannon’s curves brushed against him, soft, pliant. He shuddered. After all, he did still have red blood in his veins. He hadn’t missed the way his body had reacted to her.

  Would her hair tumble to her hips when he loosened it from those confounding pins? He wondered as he watched strands of hair blow freely around her face. He sighed as a pang of guilt hit him. He knew there was no reason to feel guilty about noticing a beautiful, young woman. His wife had been dead for two long years, but the guilt was there just the same.

  It wasn't only Shannon’s appearance that had caught his eye -- there was confidence in the way she moved that interested him. For a little thing, she had plenty of fire, just like the glint of her hair. And Luke found that a part of him that had been dead for a long time could still be aroused.

  He should have left her back in town, Luke told himself as he tried to keep this attention on the poor excuse for a road. He sensed this nanny would be trouble. But his children needed someone who could lead them along the right path.

  Was this . . . girl the one who could do it?

  He sure had failed them once Ruth had fallen sick. He’d all but forgotten about the children, as his whole focus had been on his wife. He shook his head. They needed a woman in their lives: someone to teach them what he couldn't. Oh, he wanted to be closer to his children, but frankly he didn’t know how. And with a spread as big as his, there was always so much to do. Too much.

  Too bad this woman wasn't what he’d had in mind. What he’d asked for. He needed a stern, sturdy spinster to handle his unruly children. Those rascals would chase this elf of a woman off in no time, and then he’d be right back where he’d started.

  “How far is yer ranch?” Shannon asked, wondering what kind of home he had. She couldn't imagine him living in any of the small, low wooden buildings like the ones she’d seen so far. He’d have to duck to enter most doorways. Mr. Griffin seemed the kind to have the best, no matter how hard he had to work for it. But did that make sense way out here in the middle of nowhere?

  “About another mile.”

  Shannon was about to comment on his curt sentences, when something scurried across the road in front of them. The horses reared, jolting the wagon.

  Shannon screamed as she was thrown toward Mr. Griffin, landing in his lap
. “By the saints above, ‘tis a wild beast!”

  The wagon bucked as Luke struggled to hold the woman who was now in his lap. He pulled back on the reins to steady the horses too frightened to obey his commands. “Whoa, whoa!” he shouted both to the horses and to Shannon. For a split-second, he couldn’t help thinking how good she felt, so soft and small against his large hard body, but first things first.

  Gaining control of the horses, he slipped the leather straps to one hand and gently lifted her off him and back onto her side of the seat, but with a pang of regret. “See. You have proven my point. If you go getting scared over a little armadillo, you're not going to make it out here.”

  She straightened her skirt with a flourish. Her cheeks were a lovely shade of pink. “Arma . . . 'Twas a rat in armor!”

  Luke chuckled. “I take it they don't have armadillos in your part of the world?”

  “Nay. I’ve never seen such a thing.”

  “You'll probably see many creatures here you haven’t seen before.”

  “Such as yerself?” Shannon teased.

  “Yep.” Luke clucked his tongue and the horses started forward, obeying his simple command like they were trained to do. That’s what he liked, everything in order. Luke glanced at his companion, thinking she’d never take orders from anyone she really didn’t want to. “Tell me. What is it like where you come from?”

  “I've lived the last three years in England, but I was born in Scotland. 'Tis beautiful there: lush, green all the time from plenty of cool rains.”

  “Well, you probably won't see lush and green here until next spring. But then you’re only staying a month, so it won't get too cold before you’re on your way.”

  “Aye, a month,” Shannon said with a rueful smile. The mon needed her -- he just didn't know how much he needed her -- yet. “’Tis verra dry here. Does it never rain?”

  “Actually, it rains a little more here than other parts of Texas that are very dry. I built my house near a river so you’ll see plenty of water, if you’re worried about shriveling up like a dead leaf,” he said with a slight smile, and she realized he was actually teasing her.