Loving the Heartland

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Loving the Heartland Page 3

by Marjorie Jones


  Covered with sweat and dirt, Brent – younger than Kendra by five years, entered the kitchen through the back door. The old screened door slammed shut behind him. Lean good looks and a personable disposition made him a favorite with the ladies. A reasonable, level head made him a favorite with the ranch hands. As second-in-command of the Heartland, he proved reliable and dedicated. Kendra hadn’t met a better cattleman in a very long time and took some of the credit for teaching him everything he knew about cows, horses and fair play. Of course, the military had given him a sense of honor, too. All of the Williams boys did a turn in the Navy or the Marines when they came of age. It had been a family tradition since World War I. Hell, even Kendra had enlisted after high school, but two years into her U.S. Marine Corps enlistment, a hardship discharge had called an end to what could have been a pretty promising career.

  Brent cursed aloud, dragging Kendra away from the not-so-pleasant memories. He slammed his hat on the counter. Taking a seat at the long, wooden kitchen table, he wiped one large hand over his face and scratched his three day’s growth of beard. “We lost another fifteen head last night.”

  The Williams Cattle Company managed a herd of nearly two thousand cows and twenty-five bulls. In the grand scheme of things, the few animals lost to Mason and his boys didn’t seem like a lot. But the attacks came more frequently and the numbers killed or missing each night grew higher and more brazen. Fifteen in one night. At this rate, they would be out of business by the first snowfall. Kendra pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes in an attempt to stave off the headache threatening to break free any minute. “Did you find the corpses?”

  “Nope. Just the blood trails. Hell, I don’t know, maybe it was more than fifteen. I found fifteen trails, that’s all I know. Let’s you and I pay Mr. Mason a visit, shall we?’ He stood and stomped out the kitchen door.

  Kendra pushed off the counter, grabbed her hat on the way out of the kitchen and stormed through the same door that Brent had exited. “Whoa, Nellie! Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m tired of these goddamned games, Kennie. I’m going to see Mason and end this – once and for all.”

  Tires crunched over the gravel drive, drawing Kendra’s attention to the front of the house. She cursed and rounded the corner just as Mason’s truck pulled to a stop beside the Loving woman’s retro model Ford Mustang. Black on silver. Damn, even her car was sexy.

  “Looks like the mountain has come to Muhammad, little brother.”

  Brent bit his tongue to keep from answering. Mason stepped from the front passenger seat of the extended cab and stretched as if he’d just driven cross country instead of a mere thirty miles. Brent moved across the yard like an animal rushing its prey.

  When he reached the side of the truck, he grabbed Mason by the front of his suit jacket and pushed him against the side panel. “Get off our land, you sonofabitch.”

  Kendra pulled her brother back and stood between them. Brent lunged again, but found himself restrained by his sister’s efforts. “Cool it, Brent.”

  Mason straightened his suit coat and smiled. “Now, Miss Williams... Is that any way to treat a guest?”

  “You’re not a guest, Mason. You’re not invited and you’re not goddamned welcome.”

  “I came to make you another offer on your land. You drive a hard bargain, and I can respect that. But the fact remains that once I get my hands on the government lease and the zoning changes, your measly few acres won’t be of any value to you or me. Sell to me now, and you stand to make quite a bit of money.”

  “You can’t get control of the lease unless you get my land first, and you damn well know it. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Calm down, little girl. You haven’t heard my latest offer. Three million. If I believe what folks have told me, that’s more money than you’ll ever see in your lifetime or the next.”

  “You don’t have enough money to buy me out, Mason. You know it, and I know it. This ranch is not for sale.” Kendra released the hold on her brother’s arm and took a much-calmer step in Mason’s direction. “Go to hell.”

  “Your kind is going extinct, Williams!”

  “Not on your life, Mason. Thanks to you killing off my herd, I have a few concerns about the world population of cows, but my kind is doing just fine.” She poked him hard in the chest. “Now hear me. You won’t get my land. Not now, not ever. And the next one of your boys I find within fifty miles of my herd had better come ready for a fight.”

  The front door crashed open. Kendra glanced toward the house long enough to see Casey and Brad jump from the porch. A second later, they flanked her. Casey leveled their father’s thirty-aught-six at Mason’s chest, while Brad covered the driver with a twelve gauge. “You’ve met my brothers, right?”

  Kendra pulled her pistol from her holster and spun the chamber slowly, letting the ominous click punctuate her silence for a moment.

  Mason eyed the boys, a slight tic of his upper lip the only sign he felt intimidated. Then he laughed, clapping Kendra on the shoulder before climbing back in the truck. “I like your spirit, Miss Williams. You and your brothers. I’ll have my attorney draw up the offer. I have a feeling you’ll come around sooner or later.” The door slammed shut and the truck pulled away.

  Casey tossed the barrel of his rifle to his shoulder. “You know, I really don’t like that guy.”

  Kendra snorted and turned toward the house.

  An obviously concerned Michelle Loving crossed her arms over her chest at the top of the porch steps. “What the hell was that about?”

  “Nothing. Go back inside.” Kendra barely recognized her own voice.

  The girl’s eyes narrowed and she glared at Kendra. “I’m not going back inside until you explain why Casey and Brad found it necessary to greet that man like this was the O.K. Corral.”

  Casey ducked his head. “Uh-oh. Now you’ve done it,” he mumbled. “Michelle, this is my big sister, Kendra. Kendra, this is Michelle Loving, from Las Vegas.”

  “I know who she is, Casey.”

  Michelle descended the steps and approached Kendra. Taller than she’d first thought, the top of her head came to roughly Kendra’s nose. She tilted her head back and placed fisted hands on her hips. “I know exactly who you are,” she stated firmly. “I want to know who that man was.”

  Kendra stood her ground, looking down into Michelle’s blue eyes. They were mesmerizing. They matched the color of a summer sky near dawn, when the horizon turned into a bright, fiery ring of color but the stars refused to sleep. Her eyes looked like that band of blue between the two worlds, at the precise moment when day met night.

  

  Rational thought abandoned Michelle’s mind when Kendra Williams looked at her that way, as though she could see to the bottom of her soul.

  She couldn’t remember the question she’d just asked; something about… something. Hell, she could barely remember her own name. M… something.

  Kendra squinted and took a step backward. “I have work to do.”

  She strode toward the barn, taut, lean muscles bunched beneath her jeans and chambray shirt. Michelle’s gaze was glued to her backside and she lost track of her surroundings until she heard a voice. She looked to her right to find a dusty, unshaven and unkempt cowboy.

  “You’ll get used to her. And more importantly, she’ll get used to you. She’s just under a ton of stress right now, that’s all. Just remember, her bark is worse than her bite, until you need to be bitten.”

  The cowboy took off his hat and nodded his head in her direction. “I’m Brent. It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’ll let you get settled in today, and then tomorrow I’d be happy to show you around the ranch.”

  “Michelle Loving. Sounds great.”

  The younger Williams nodded again and followed Kendra’s path into the barn.

  “I have homework to finish. Ya’ll coming inside?” Brad shouldered his shotgun and turned to the house.

 
“Yeah.” Michelle followed Brad up the steps and made her way back upstairs.

  That was Kendra Williams? Her heart fluttered in her chest. She should have known she’d be gorgeous. Lacy possessed a rare beauty and her twin brother wasn’t hard to look at either, if you were into that sort of thing. But she’d never considered how good looking Kendra might be. Funny, she’d already decided she would have trouble with her before she’d left home, so what she might look like had never entered her mind.

  When Kendra had fastened her sharp, green eyes on Michelle, she had actually been able to hear Kendra’s heart beating. Or had it been her own?

  Once inside her room, she looked out the window. Kendra pushed through the barn door with a coil of rope thrown over her shoulder. Her lips curled in an absent-minded grimace as she looked up at the sun, as though she were judging the time the same way cowboys did in the old days. She shrugged the heavy ropes higher onto her broad shoulder and swaggered to the corral.

  Kendra moved like the earth belonged to her; proud and strong. Like nothing in the world could touch her. When she reached the fence, she climbed onto the bottom rung and draped the ropes over the post. Removing her cowboy hat to reveal short-cropped brown hair styled very much like her brother’s, Kendra wiped her brow with the back of one sleeve.

  She was exactly the rough and butch kind of woman that attracted Michelle Loving almost exclusively. There was something about a good woman in touch with her masculine side that made Michelle swoon like some femme character in a romance novel. The strength and assurance… The capable attitude and dominating presence… it all came together to make Michelle’s knees weak and that secret place between her legs melt like a river of sweet butter.

  Kendra shoved her hat back on and whistled sharply. A large horse prancing on the other side of the enclosure whipped its head in her direction.

  Even the animals seemed to recognize her power...

  The horse hurried to stand in front of Kendra. She removed an oversized leather glove and stroked the animal’s neck. The horse bobbed its head lower to grant her access, and then nudged her with its muzzle.

  Just then, Kendra turned her attention to the window where Michelle stood—watching. Catching her breath, she dropped the curtain and backed away from the window. Had Kendra seen her staring? Tentatively, she peeked around the curtain. Kendra had returned her attention back to the horse, thankfully.

  Michelle fell onto the bed. So what if Kendra had seen her staring? She was probably as arrogant as any man and would expect her to ogle, right? Michelle had more important things to think about than the curve of Kendra William’s ass in faded denim, or the way her eyes danced when she looked in her direction, or the little muscle in her jaw that had pulsed ferociously as she’d confronted that man in the front yard.

  The man in the yard… Who was he? Her forehead creased as she glanced toward the window. She would not look outside, again. She wouldn’t. She forced her attention back to the matter at hand. That man had to have something to do with the reason she was here. Perhaps he was Mason, himself? Whoever he was, Kendra and her brothers had no love for him.

  Groaning, she pushed herself off the bed.

  Enough!

  She glanced out the window again. Kendra was gone, and so was the horse.

  Well, Michelle-girl. You sure know how to pick ‘em. You’ve landed yourself right in the middle of a war – complete with a denim-covered cowboi to save the day. Good job.

  Pushing aside her own self-directed sarcasm, she changed her clothes and finished unpacking. Most of the furnishings she’d seen so far were antique, but the bedroom suite took her breath away as soon as she’d seen it. A huge bed, intricately carved with a full head and foot board carved from a dark, aged wood took up most of the space. A marble topped dresser with an enormous beveled-glass mirror sat against one wall. A glazed-ceramic pitcher and bowl set, a silver brush and matching comb with a matching picture frame shimmered on the surface. She fingered the frame and smiled at the black-and-white photo of a young woman, probably Lacey’s grandmother.

  She closed the empty suitcase and carried it to the closet. When she turned around, she met a wall of a man and screamed.

  “Easy, babe.” Casey laughed as he caught her shoulders to steady her.

  “Good Lord, Casey. Make some noise, why don’t you?” One hand moved to her chest as if she could return the erratic beats of her heart to normal.

  “But your tax dollars worked so hard to make me stealthy!” He released her and sat on the edge of the bed. “You settling in okay?”

  “Yup. This is a really nice place, and this room is fabulous.”

  “It was my grandmother’s. She lived here after Grandpa died because she couldn’t stand being in the master bedroom without him. Mom and Dad moved into that room. Later, when Grams died, Kendra lived in here.”

  “Well, it’s very nice.”

  “You want the tour? Brent’s making dinner and we have the time before it’s ready.”

  “Sure.” She slipped her bare feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers.

  “Where’s your room, Casey? I can just imagine the flowered wallpaper and lace curtains.” She laughed at the expression of agony that crossed over his handsome features.

  “Not even. Nah, my room is pretty much like the rest of the place, these days. The day I joined the Navy and shipped out for basic training, Gladys tore down my rock posters and put away my collection of human skull candle holders.”

  Michelle shook her head. How could he say that with a straight face? “Who’s Gladys?”

  “She was kind of a cross between a nanny and a housekeeper. Kennie hired her when we were still underfoot. Hell, Brad was only three when the folks died. Kenny had more than any twenty-year old could handle. Kids to raise, and a ranch to run.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Casey shrugged. “No problem. Truth is, I barely remember them. Lace and I were seven or eight. This is your bathroom. You’ll have to share, but we tried to clean up some before you got here.”

  Casey pointed to a door to his left then pushed it open.

  A rather standard bathroom lay on the other side. Shower, tub, toilet, sink. She could manage.

  She followed him further down the hall. “This is Brad’s room?”

  “Yup. Brent has an apartment over the barn, and Lacey’s room is in the attic. As the only girl, she got the private part of the house. And she’s spoiled rotten, but that’s a whole-nother story.”

  “She’s not the only girl,” Michelle quipped.

  “You know what I mean. We think of Kendra more like a mom, you know? Or maybe it’s because Kendra never really came off as a girl. And this last door is Kennie’s room. Come on. I want you to see something.”

  He opened the door and pulled Michelle into a large master bedroom. Light filtered through bona-fide lace curtains with partially drawn shades. Not cheap Venetian blinds, but the kind of shades that blocked all of the sunlight and were covered in a simple fabric with small, cute tassels in the center of the bottom edge. The queen-sized bed, covered in a deep purple comforter and a collection of various throw pillows, was not an antique.

  A collection of empty picture frames hung over the bed in place of the headboard. A writing desk, an old rocking chair and a bureau with a man’s jewelry box and a pair of spurs on top completed the room.

  Simple, with a rustic elegance. Simple she understood, but having finally met the rough rancher in person, the elegance surprised her. Maybe she was more feminine than anyone really gave her credit for?

  From the descriptions she’d heard from Lacey, and to a certain extent, Casey on his frequent visits to Vegas, Kendra exuded the Old West. According to her brother and sister, Kendra should live in a dime-store novel, riding trails, sleeping under the stars, chasing outlaws. The organized room spoke of a deeper level to her personality.

  “In here,” Casey called.

  Michelle turned and realized she stood alon
e in the center of the room. Casey waved to her from a door in the corner.

  “I think you’re going to like this.” He pushed the door open to reveal a paradise of personal hygiene.

  A huge claw-foot tub sat on a raised platform across from the door, surrounded on two sides by a shelf lined with empty planters and at least a dozen candles. A separate brass and glass shower stood in the corner, and a wall jutting from the end of the double sink counter apparently hid the toilet. Muted colors of dusty rose and beige placed this particular remodeling project in the mid-eighties. Even the marble counter-top had a thread of rose in the striations.

  “Nice, right?”

  “This is beautiful. A little dated, but not bad at all.”

  “Dad had it built for Mom right before the plane went down. I think she might have used it once, if at all.”

  It looked like a magazine layout. Everything was clean and … sterile. She tilted her head and suddenly felt as if she were invading someone’s privacy. But not a live someone. The counter stood void of anything to indicate that Kendra used this space as her own. Rose colored towels hung perfectly on the bars, matching fingertip towels on top. Nothing – no toothbrush, no make-up - not that Kendra wore much, if any at all. Not even a hairbrush.

  “Kendra doesn’t use this room, does she?”

  She heard Casey stifle a sigh. “Nope. She doesn’t. Lacey did, though. She loved it in here. I thought maybe after dinner, if you like, you can relax in here a bit. Take advantage of that tub? It’s not a shrine or anything.”

  She smiled and left the bathroom. “No. I mean, thanks and all, but it just wouldn’t feel right. This is Kendra’s room.”

  Casey rolled his eyes and closed the bathroom door. “Like, she’d give a rat’s ass.” He cleared his throat and Chuckled. “Anyway, the offer’s there if you want it. Come on. Let’s see if Brent has finished burning dinner.”

 

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