by Sharon Sala
CHAPTER 9
The hot wind and sun were merciless. The wind teased like a woman, blowing intermittently against King’s bare brown back just enough to make him pray for the next gust to hit the rivulets of moisture that ran in a steady stream into the waistband of his Levi’s. But the breeze was weak, and the temperature high, and King ended the injured horse’s workout much sooner than normal. He walked him to an empty stall and turned him over to one of the ranch hands to cool down and groom.
It had been nearly a week since the incident with the dog pack. The horse was virtually healed. Although Jesse and the horse seemed to have suffered no lasting effects from the episode, King still woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmares.
He took off his Stetson, slapped it sharply against his thigh to knock off the dust, and walked over to the long, metal horse trough inside the corral. The water that first gushed from the tap was hot and slightly muddy. King stood, letting it run for a moment until it cooled and cleared. Then he leaned down and let his mouth meet the heavy stream of cool well water. He sucked greedily, replacing body fluids that the extreme heat had sapped. When his thirst was quenched, he leaned down farther and let the water run full force over his head and down the back of his neck.
Jesse lay on her stomach on a loose pile of hay and watched King as he worked. She remained unnoticed from her vantage point in the open loft window and ignored a persistent horse fly that kept dive bombing her bare legs. Her sunburn had turned a nut brown. She was nicely camouflaged in the hay and knew she’d remain undetected unless she moved or called aloud. She had no intention of doing either. The view of King from the loft was too splendid to disturb.
Jesse watched the play of muscles ripple across King’s bare shoulders as he worked the horse’s lead. Sweat ran down his neck and onto the powerful muscles of his chest, making them shine like polished wood. His jeans were dark, splotched by the patches of perspiration that came through the fabric and molded to his long, powerful legs with damp affection. His boots were dust-coated, completely covered by the dry, dusty fog that hovered ankle high on the floor of the corral.
She knew his strength of mind, and strength of character, but it was his sheer physical strength that drew her attention today.
Years and years of long hours and hard work had honed his body to solid bone and muscle. There wasn’t a soft, weak spot anywhere. The only thing soft about King McCandless was the spot in his heart reserved for Jesse. She knew it was there, but she wanted more than compassion and affection from the man below her. She wanted pure, unadulterated love and passion.
Jesse shivered, watching as King leaned down to the running water to quench his thirst. She watched his mouth open to drink greedily from the tap, remembering the last time she’d felt that mouth on her own lips, and wished she could trade places with the water. She could quench more than thirst if he’d only let her. The kiss he’d given her at the pond had not been compassionate, nor had it been affectionate. It had been, in Jesse’s estimation, devastating. But King had turned off as suddenly as he’d turned on, and Jesse hadn’t been able to find the switch to his emotions again.
She sighed with frustration, and watched King turn the water off, jam his hat back on his head, and disappear into the shady depths of the barn. She lay unmoving, trying to follow his path with her ears instead of her eyes. She listened closely to him issuing instructions about ranch business and then laughing aloud at something someone said in return. She couldn’t hear what they said, but she could easily hear the joy and pleasure in his voice. She sighed and wondered if she’d ever be able to make him laugh like that. It seemed all he did nowadays was frown at her, or yell when he caught her barefoot.
The horsefly darted one last time at the bare space between her shirt top and the waistband of her shorts. It flew away into the sunshine when her hand swatted at it and came much too close.
King saw the top of Jesse’s head just above the pile of loose hay near the loft window as he leaned down to get a drink. It startled him, and he wondered, as he quenched his thirst, how long she’d been watching him…and why? He carried on, seemingly unaware of her presence, and then walked nonchalantly into the barn. He stood at the foot of the steps leading to the loft and, when he heard no sound or movement, pulled off his boots, hung his hat on a nail by the steps, and quickly and quietly climbed into her hideaway.
It was suddenly too quiet below, and Jesse held her breath, listening…listening.
She jumped when she heard the sound of his voice right behind her, and guiltily rolled over in the hay. King was standing at her feet with a look on his face that stopped her heart. She let her gaze run from the still-damp hair, quickly past those knowing dark eyes, to the droplets of water caught in the hair on his chest. Her look lingered longer than necessary on the tight, damp Levi’s that almost lovingly cupped and molded every interesting bulge and muscle, and finally stopped her perusal at his sock-clad feet.
“You cheated,” she muttered. “Where are your boots?”
King had intended to tease, but the thought disappeared with the inclination when Jesse rolled over on her back and took him apart at the seams with those secretive, big blue eyes.
Her shirt caught under her and pulled tightly across her breasts, molding them in an invitation he found hard to resist. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to block out the image before him, and knew that resistance wasn’t the only thing getting hard. It was no use. This feeling for Jesse wasn’t going to go away.
He knelt down, straddling her bare, tanned legs, and braced himself above her.
Jesse felt an energy between them spark to life, and heard his heartbeat stop and then pick up rhythm with her own. She started to speak, and then forgot what she was going to say as a tiny drop of moisture clinging to his thick, dark lashes finally fell, hurtling downward to land at the corner of Jesse’s mouth.
King watched, fascinated, as the droplet paused. Then, as it started to slide down the delicate curve of her chin, he lowered himself to meet it and caught the droplet with his mouth.
Jesse felt his tongue along the edge of her chin. She closed her eyes as his teeth nipped at the pale, blue vein in her neck that pulsed beneath her tan. Her hands slid up the length of his arms, feeling the muscles jumping with strain. He held himself poised above her, and Jesse felt the magic between them begin to expand.
King was watching her closely, anxious for a reaction to what he’d done.
“What are you doing?” Jesse whispered.
King watched the light flare in her eyes, and felt her heartbeat pounding beneath his chest. It was moments before he could speak. He wanted more…much more…than that tiny taste of Jesse.
“I don’t know, Jesse Rose,” he answered huskily. “But I do know this…”
“What?” she asked, her eyes widening as she saw his head dipping closer and closer.
“I’m going to do it again.”
The sun and the heat, the sound of men’s voices, and the horses nickering back and forth in the stalls below disappeared in one blinding flash as King took Jesse in his arms. There was nothing…nothing but the smell, and the taste, and the touch of Jesse filling him. He shook with a need so powerful, so overwhelming, he couldn’t think. All he could do was take. Take what he’d thought of, what he’d dreamed of, ever since he’d brought Jesse home.
Her body was soft beneath him, and it made him ache with bone-jarring need. Her arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer and closer into a waiting heat.
King groaned, then reluctantly pulled away. He grabbed her hands and propped himself above her, holding her hands trapped between their bodies.
Emptiness overwhelmed her. He’d done it again. He’d let her go. Tears pooled in her eyes and slipped silently out of the corners as Jesse let desolation overwhelm her. Now, he was either going to feel sorry for her or make excuses for what had just occurred. Either way, she didn’t want to hear him shut her out.
“Honey,” he whispered, and
bent down, quickly kissing each of her hands held trapped against his chest. “I still don’t know what’s happening between us. But if I don’t stop now, I know what will. I don’t want ever to do anything to hurt you…you know that.”
He watched as Jesse slowly nodded, then pulled her hands away from his grasp. He felt her fingers trace across his lips, and caught them gently with his teeth before they ventured farther.
Jesse gasped as his teeth pressed down just enough to restrain, and felt a quickening in the pit of her stomach answer the pressure of his teeth.
“King?” Jesse asked, her voice thick and heavy with emotion.
“What, baby?”
“If you stop now, will you promise me something?” she asked, and fixed him with an uncompromising stare.
“Anything,” he answered, and pressed a kiss of promise on the tilt of her nose.
“Will you promise that if we do this again…the next time…you won’t stop?”
“Sweet Jesus, Jesse Rose,” King groaned, and rolled over in the hay, taking Jesse with him until she was sprawled full length on top of his chest and down his legs. He wrapped her in a fierce hug, and buried his face in the curve of her neck.
“Do you know what you’re doing to my will power?” he asked.
“Robbing you of it, I hope,” she answered, and felt the surge of his need beneath her.
A car honked in the distance and King jumped, suddenly remembering the buyer who’d promised to come by today.
“You take more than that, girl,” he muttered, as he dumped her unceremoniously in the pile of hay and struggled to his feet. “I lost my memory and good sense, too.”
He turned as he started down the steps, and gave Jesse a look that made her hot and cold all over.
“Jesse,” he called softly.
She looked up at the banked fire in his eyes and held her breath.
“About that promise I made…”
She waited. The horn blared again, insistently disturbing the silence between them as King whispered.
“I never broke a promise to you yet, Jesse Rose. I’m not about to now. Next time, honey…next time.”
King was gone. Jesse fell back into the hay and lay quietly, staring blindly at a broken spider web high above her head in the rafters. He said “next time.” She couldn’t stop the silly smile that appeared on her face anymore than the heart-wrenching thought that followed. Now I know he wants me. But will it be love?
* * *
Jesse sat quietly in the living room, staring blindly at the television. If she pretended to be absorbed in the program, maybe Maggie would quit casting those anxious looks her way and King would stop fidgeting.
She’d hardly touched a bite of her evening meal, pleading loss of appetite due to the heat. The excuse hadn’t washed with King or Maggie, but they’d allowed it to pass unchallenged.
Jesse was angry and overwhelmed with a feeling of helplessness unlike any she’d ever known. Just when it seemed a portion of her life might be coming together, another piece would begin to unravel.
The principal of her school in St. Louis had called. It had taken him all of three minutes to destroy what was left of Jesse’s world. He’d related everyone’s good wishes for her safety and health in the same breath he’d told her he’d hired a substitute teacher for her classes. Just, of course, until her “problem” was solved. The police had advised him of a possible kidnap attempt at school should her case not be solved before the semester started. It hadn’t taken him long to realize what he had to do for Miss LeBeau’s welfare, as well as the welfare of the children. Of course, she wasn’t being replaced permanently; this was only until everything was settled.
The worry Jesse had about his statement was that her problem might never be solved. Where did that leave her? Now she had a house she couldn’t go back to, a job at which she wasn’t welcome, and a man who had tried to kidnap her still at large. And, here she was, hiding in the very place she’d sworn never to come back to.
“Excuse me,” she muttered, looking at neither King nor Maggie, as she bolted for the front door.
They watched her go, looking helplessly at each other for guidance. Finally, at Maggie’s insistence, King followed her outside into the summer night.
The night sky was unusually dark, although the moon was almost full. But Jesse didn’t notice the absence of stars or the accumulation of clouds slowly gathering in the south. She was too full of herself, certain that her life had taken a downward spiral she’d never be able to stop.
A chorus of bullfrogs competed with the cricket string quartet for dominance in the night symphony. Somewhere off to the west, a coyote’s single yip preceded an entire choir of howls and calls that sent a shiver down Jesse’s spine. They echoed the loneliness and emptiness she felt inside. She shuddered as the coyote chorus ended as abruptly as it had begun. A few fireflies fluttered in the black space above the horizon, flickering like earthbound stars and just as hard to catch.
Jesse walked out into the enveloping darkness and let it close around her, drawing her into its secrets like a moth drawn to the light. Scents assailed her senses from every direction, and Jesse knew she could have pinpointed her location at any given moment.
The honeysuckle, heavy with sweet-smelling blossom, reclined over and along the fence around the front yard and blended its tantalizing odor with the sharper, astringent tang of towering junipers. The air was still, and only the soft, gentle night sounds intruded into Jesse’s thoughts. She felt anxiety slowly seeping away. She put her hands out in front of her and when they connected with a rough, grainy textured barrier, she climbed upon the top rail of the wooden fence and took a precarious seat.
The front door slammed loudly, telling her someone had followed her into the darkness. Probably King. Her suspicions were correct and she heard his voice call out to her.
“Here,” she answered, then heard him coming her way.
“What, Jesse?” King asked with his usual abbreviated speech.
“Everything is out of control,” she finally answered. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She was afraid to say it too loud. What was left of her world might come apart, too.
King didn’t respond, but stood silently, allowing her time to collect her thoughts before she continued.
“As of today, I no longer have a job.” Then she added, “At least until this is over, which may be never. I have a house I can’t go back to. I have nothing.”
“Yes, you do,” King answered in his deep, husky growl. “You have Maggie…and Turner…and me.” Then he grudgingly added, “Hell, you even have Duncan worrying about you, and I’ve never known him to care about anything but himself.”
He heard her sharp, indrawn breath and then nothing. No answer, no response at all to the mention of Duncan’s name. King had finally had enough of this silence.
“That does it,” he mumbled.
He walked so close to Jesse she could hear him breathing, yet she could barely distinguish the outline of his shoulders in the darkness.
“Jesse, I want to know…and don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you do. What’s between you and Duncan?”
For the longest time Jesse held her silence and then, finally, she let out a long, defeated sigh, and shifted to a less precarious position on the fence.
“Nothing,” she answered quietly, and then added, “at least not now.”
King’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the rest of her answer, but something made him persist.
“Sometimes you seem to be afraid of him. Has he…has he hurt you, or done something that made you uneasy? If he did…”
“No! No!” Jesse interrupted. “It’s just, he wanted more from me than I was willing to give.”
“Like what?” King asked harshly, imagining the worst. But Jesse’s answer rendered him speechless.
“He wanted to marry me.”
“My God!” King finally muttered. “Where the hell was I when all this was going on?
” But he knew the answer to his own question before he’d finished asking it. This had all taken place after Jesse went to St. Louis.
“Do you love him?” King finally managed to ask, and felt his stomach begin to draw when she hesitated.
“No. But once, for about five minutes, I considered trying,” Jesse answered sadly.
“Were you that lonely, Jess?” King muttered. “Why would you try to love?”
It was the longest time before Jesse spoke. She debated with herself about even answering him and then decided it was time he knew.
“I suppose…because he looked like you.”
King couldn’t think. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t have taken a step if his life depended on it. Finally, he managed to speak past the huge, aching knot in his throat.
“Why, if he looked like me, couldn’t you love him?”
Her answer nearly broke his heart.
“Because he wasn’t you.”
King was devastated. Everything about her demeanor told him that he’d just lost something very precious without even knowing it had been there for the taking. It hurt to think. It hurt to talk. But he had to know.
“Jesse, am I the reason you left the Double M three years ago?”
“Yes,” she answered sharply. She was angry with herself for being so weak where he was concerned. Angry because King was so blind where she was concerned. “And now, it looks like you’re the reason I had to come home, doesn’t it? Makes you wonder just how cruel life can be with the little jokes it plays on us from time to time.”
She took a deep, shaky breath and then continued.
“Just don’t expect me to thank you for making me tell you what you should have known, King McCandless. It’s obvious the level of caring between us is not a balanced proposition. Just as soon as this nightmare is over, and I have to believe it soon will be, I’ll be out of your life. Everything will be back to normal. So please,” she said with a muffled sob, “don’t let my presence put any pressure on you. I don’t expect anything from you…or Duncan. I’ve had just about all I can take from McCandless men to last me a lifetime.”