by Betty Brooks
SWEET WORDS OF LOVE
Betty Brooks
Copyright © Betty Brooks, 2016
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people or locales are used factiously. Other names, characters, places or incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons is entirely coincidental
One
"You damned lousy polecat!" Rainey Watson cried. "Turn me loose afore I make you sorry you was ever born!" She struggled furiously against the strong, masculine hands restraining her.
"Throw her down, Zeke!" Willis Johnson urged his cousin. "Stretch her out on the ground so I can get at her!"
Although Zeke Brumley was determined to put his captive in that position, Rainey was just as determined to avoid it. She continued to mutter curses through her gritted teeth as she fought desperately to stay on her feet.
But it was a losing fight and she knew it. Willis Johnson knew it. Zeke knew it. And it was his certainty of victory that was his undoing. He relaxed ever so slightly, just enough for Rainey to jerk her wrist free. Then, drawing back her fist, she punched Zeke on the nose with as much strength as she could muster. The blow landed with a meaty clunk, and blood spurted, spraying the faded-blue homespun shirt she wore with crimson color.
Zeke jerked back immediately, putting several feet of distance between them. Then, wiping his nose, he stared at the blood on his hand. “Dammit, Rainey," he cursed. "You done bloodied my nose!"
Before she could guess his intentions, he leaped forward. His right fist whipped out and punched her hard on the chin. Her head snapped back and she stumbled backward. She went down like a rock then, striking the ground hard enough to make her ears ring and send the breath whooshing out of her open mouth.
Rainey had no time to recover before Willis joined the fray, throwing his sinewy body across her. He used his weight to hold her against the ground while he secured her there by pinning her shoulders with his huge hands. "Give up, Rainey, afore you get hurt!" His lips were pulled back in a snarl, and his eyes glittered with triumph.
Sucking in a huge gasp of air, Rainey tried to throw him off by bucking her body beneath him. "It'll be a cold day in hell afore I give in to the likes of you, Willis Johnson!"
He scowled down at her. "You ain't got no choice, Rainey, 'cause I ain't lettin' you up from here until after you say the words!"
"I ain't never gonna say 'em!" she cried, glaring up at him. "They ain't no way you can make me do it! An’ if you don't get off me right now you're gonna be sorry you ever laid eyes on me, Willis!" His body seemed heavier now, almost suffocating, and she bucked beneath him again, desperate to relieve herself of his weight.
Suddenly, as she watched, his expression changed. The mottled color in his face became darker, and something stirred in his pale-blue eyes. His breathing changed, becoming quick and raspy. His lower body bulged, shoving hard against her thighs.
Rainey's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "Get off me, Willis," she choked. Panic stabbed at her stomach like a sliver of glass, and she turned her head aside so she wouldn't have to look at him.
"Not until you say uncle, Rainey. "His voice was softer, but that fact was not the least bit encouraging.
Rainey forced herself to look at him again and wished she hadn't. His pale eyes glistened with excitement behind his drooping eyelids, and his breath was rapid, uneven. She had to free herself quickly . . . somehow.
Fear warred with fury and the latter won. "You get offa me, Willis!" she spat. “I ain’t gonna tell you again! Just get off!”
"Not until you say uncle, "he said again, pressing his wiry body harder against hers, making her even more aware of the pure maleness of him.
A warning voice whispered in her head that she'd better get him off before things got completely out of hand. The look in his eyes told her of a sudden change in their relationship, but it was a change she couldn't, wouldn't allow, if she could best him in this fight, then maybe his lust would soon be forgotten, and the old relationship between them re-established.
Desperation lent her strength and she wrenched her right arm free and grabbed a handful of hair. She jerked hard, pulling his head back with her effort, and he swore loudly, releasing her long enough to pry her fingers loose. But her efforts had been in vain. The weight of his body kept her pinned to the ground, unable to roll away from him.
"Dammit, Willis! Get offa me!" she cried once more. She raked her nails down the side of his face, hoping the pain would be enough to make him release her. But it wasn't. She was held fast.
Although she'd been wrestling with Willis Johnson and his cousin, Zeke, since they were children, he was heavier and more muscular than the last time they'd pitted their strength against each other. No matter if he was the stronger, though. Her wits and quick reflexes were more than enough to make up the difference. At least she hoped they were.
"Say uncle!"
Rainey's chin jutted belligerently, and the heated glare she gave Willis could have started a brush fire. "I ain't gonna say it!"
The fury she'd seen in his pale eyes disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. His voice was husky with emotion as his head dipped lower, his breath hot and moist against her cheek. "Then you sure as hell ain't gettin' up."
Her panic became almost overwhelming, and her stomach roiled with tension. Perhaps she was being foolhardy by allowing her pride to keep her beneath him. She was reconsidering her decision when a voice rang out.
"What in hell is going on here?"
Three pairs of startled eyes jerked toward the newcomer. As her gaze found him, Rainey sucked in a sharp breath while her heart began an erratic dance beneath her rib cage.
Thornton O'Brien Lassiter was a tall, dark-haired man with muscled shoulders that spoke of the strength he carried in his wide frame. He would have been hard to ignore any time, and most certainly could not be when he was wearing such a thunderous expression.
"Get off of her, Willis!" Although Thorne's voice was even, it was hard enough to make Willis Johnson scramble to his feet and back away.
"There ain't no call to sound that way, Thorne. We was just funnin'," Willis quickly explained, hunching his shoulders and looking sheepish. "We didn't mean no harm. Did we, Zeke?" He looked toward his cousin, who was holding a bloody kerchief against his nose, trying to stanch the flow of blood.
"Naw," Zeke claimed, shifting uneasily. "We was just wrastlin' like we always do." His gaze flickered between
Thorne, whose stance bore the look of a bear waiting for a reason to charge, and Rainey, who had quickly regained her feet. Then, appearing to find the Winchester rifle held in the crook of Thorne's arm intimidating, Zeke's gaze settled on Rainey. "Tell him, Rainey. Tell Thorne we was just funnin'. "
Thorne turned his silver gaze on her. "Is that right, Rainey?" His gruff voice slid over her like velvet. "Was it all in fun?"
Licking lips that had suddenly gone dry, she met his eyes and muttered, "'Course it was." She looked quickly away, brushing at the leaves and grit covering her breeches and shirt, taking her time so she could avoid looking at him again. Even so, she could feel the impact of his probing gaze.
Thorne moved closer and plucked a leaf out of her tangled dark hair, and she shivered at the sudden contact. "Guess I should've gone on my way then. . . without bothering the three of you." He plucked another leaf out of her hair and casually tossed it aside. "What do you think?"
“What did she think? About what? For some reason her heart was behaving in a most unusual way, and her brain had momentarily taken up residence with the flowers. What was wrong with her anyway? she wondered. That peculiar glitter in Thorne's eyes
couldn't be desire. Not Thorne. Why, he was as familiar as an old boot . . . usually. But today, she sensed something different about him. Like there was about Willis and Zeke.
Tarnation! Was there a fever going around Thunder Mountain that had affected all the menfolk? Or was the fever in her brain causing her to imagine things that weren't there?
As Thorne plucked another leaf out of her hair, she lowered her eyes to hide her thoughts. It was there. She had seen it, recognized the glitter beneath the silvery depths and it took her breath away. But Thorne, devil that he was, continued to pluck leaves out of her hair as though he had nothing better to do.
"Hmmmm? What do you think, Rainey?"
Shivering beneath his touch, she forced herself to look at him again, to hold his gaze with her own. "W-what do I think about what?" Despite her attempt at composure, her voice sounded breathy, as though she'd been running uphill as she often did when hot on a bee line.
"What do you think about me going away and leaving the three of you to continue your childish games?" Thorne asked her.
Childish games. His words struck her with the force of a bucket of ice water. There was no passion there, and none in his gaze. No. She'd imagined the whole thing. She hadn't imagined the look in Willis's eyes, though. It had been there. Thorne was right to scold her. The games were childish. And she was no child. She was a woman fully grown. She could have been in a lot of trouble if Thorne had not happened along. She knew that now, knew she'd been a fool to indulge in such shenanigans with those two hooligans. But never again, she silently vowed. She'd learned a valuable lesson today. Next time she might not be so lucky.
She looked at Willis Johnson's hopeful expression. It was obvious he wanted her to send Thorne on his way. Her gaze turned to Zeke then, who had finally managed to stop the nose bleed, then back at Thorne again. ”It don't make no never mind to me whether you go along or not," she said, watching his gray eyes narrow. Tension vibrated between them. "I ain't gonna be here nohow." She studied the gathering clouds as though they were of extreme interest. "Storm's coming over the mountain. Gonna rain for sure." She summoned up a smile. "You can come to supper, Thorne, if you've a mind to. It's been a long spell since you was there an' Grandpa would welcome the company."
“I’ll walk back with you," Thorne said gruffly, his stance relaxing slightly. "But I'm not so sure about supper, Rainey. The evening chores are yet to be done."
"You got a hired man to tend the chores," she reminded, suddenly eager for him to accept the invitation. "He ain't gonna mind doing 'em by his lonesome now and then! I got a whole raisin pie just waitin' to be sliced up at home. lf'n Grandpa ain't been at it whilst I was arunnin' my bee line."
Thorne's eyes crinkled in a smile. "You would mention raisin pie. You know that's my favorite dessert, Rainey. How could I say no to a slice?"
"How 'bout us, Rainey," Zeke asked plaintively. "Me an' Willis likes raisin pie, too."
Thorne pinned Zeke with a hard gaze. "You two don't have time to stop over."
"How come?" Willis asked with a frown.
"I’m sure you'll think of a good reason," Thorne assured him.
"Uh,yeah," Zeke responded. He grabbed his cousin's arm. "Come on, Willis. We gotta be going now."
Willis stood his ground until Thorne's hard gaze settled on him.
"I've been thinking for some time now that I should have a talk with you two boys," Thorne said grimly. "From the looks of it that talk is long overdue. Maybe I'll just drop by the cabin on my way home."
"Whose cabin?" Willis asked quickly.
"Why .. . your pap’s cabin, Willis."
"Uh. Whatcha wanta talk about, Thorne?" Zeke queried uneasily.
Thorne smiled at him, but there was no humor in his eyes. They were cold, frosty. "Time enough to learn that . . . later."
Zeke's gaze flickered from Rainey to Thorne and then to Rainey again. "Well . . ." He cleared his throat and began to edge away from them. "Guess I'd best be going now. Uncle Jude will be lookin' out for us." He looked at his cousin. "Come on, Willis. We're gonna be late for supper."
Rainey shared the two young men's uneasiness as she followed Thorne down the trail leading to the little cabin where she lived with her grandfather. She had a good mind to ask him what he intended to talk to them about, yet she quelled the urge to question him, afraid she wouldn't like his answer.
Birdsong accompanied them along the trail, which wound across the ridge, and the wind brushed leafy branches together in soft whispers of sound. Rainey glanced continually at Thorne, wondering at his silence. And at the way he'd looked at her when he'd found her on the ground beneath Willis. When he'd looked at her, with those stone-cold eyes, she'd felt as though she were being chastised, like a child caught in an act of mischief, and she resented that fact. She didn't have to answer to him for her actions.
Rainey had met Thorne shortly after he arrived on Thunder Mountain. That was five years ago, and although she'd only been thirteen years old at the time, she'd seen something in him that told her they were destined to be friends. And they had been, too. She considered Thorne her best friend. The one person she could confide in, who would never let her down no matter what the circumstances.
And yet, today, she'd seen another side of Thorne. A side that she wasn't as comfortable with. And for some reason she felt as though something new had been added to their relationship, something that would make being with him difficult.
Suddenly uncomfortable with such thoughts, Rainey pushed them aside and looked toward the sky. The dark clouds were rolling in fast. They'd be lucky if they made it home before the storm broke.
It was Thorne who put an end to the silence. "Zeke and Willis are getting too old for you to be wrestling with them, Rainey."
Did he have to keep going on about it? Her irritation showed in her voice when she answered him. "I could take both of them on, Thorne, and two others besides," she snapped.
“That's not the point," he said gruffly. "Things are different now since you’re older. You should have sense enough to know what I'm getting at. You didn't look as though you were enjoying the fight back there."
"I was at first," she said quickly. Suddenly she decided to be honest with him. "I felt kinda funny, though. You know . . .when he was holding me down that way and wouldn't move off of me, my stomach knotted up something fierce and . . ."
"You're a fool, Rainey!" he grated.
Her blue eyes widened and she glared at him. "I ain't, neither!"
"Only a fool would think she could wrestle with men the way you do without suffering the consequences."
"Men?" She gave an unladylike snort. "Tarnation, Thorne! They ain't men! They're just boys!" She looked at him with confusion. "Hell's fire! I grew up with both of 'em! They ain't never gonna get too big for me to whip." She hitched up her breeches proudly. "I durn near beat 'em, too. Did you see Zeke's bloody nose? And Willis is sure enough gonna have a headache tomorrow."
"Dammit! Didn't you hear what I said?"
She stopped abruptly and stared at him with confusion. "Whatcha gettin' so riled up about anyway?"
"You're not that innocent, Rainey."
His attitude was making her angry. "You ain't got no call to talk to me thata way, Thorne! And you can't tell me what to do!"
“Your grandfather can, though. And I'm sure he wouldn't approve of you wrestling with those young men."
Her face flushed hotly. "And I 'spose you're fixin' to tell him about it! Well, tarnation, Thorne! If you're gonna be thata way, then I'm atakin' back the supper invite!"
“I’m still coming with you, you little vixen. You're past the age where you can wrestle with grown men without suffering the consequences. And don't pretend you don't know what I mean, either, because I know you can't be that dumb."
Fury almost choked her. "Don't you go callin' me dumb, Thornton Lassiter, because I ain't! I know what you're goin' on about, but I got more sense than to let some feller put a baby in my belly! And you better ke
ep your nose outta my business if'n you don't want my fist shoved in it!" She waved said fist in his face.
He gripped her shoulders with iron fingers and gave her a hard shake. ''Your grandpa is depending on me to keep you out of trouble, Rainey!" he said sharply. "And I aim to do just that!"
"You turn me loose," she snapped furiously. The cabin was in sight now, just a few hundred yards away. And, although she could see her grandfather sitting in the cane-backed rocker on the porch, obviously keeping a watchful eye out for his granddaughter's return, they were still hidden from his view.
Thorne released her abruptly. "You heed my words!"
He strode into the clearing, and George Watson raised a hand and waved at him.
“Come on over here, Thorne!" George hollered.
“Don't you dare say nothing to my grandpap!" Rainey spat, glaring at him furiously. ''He's got enough on his mind without you adding more trouble."
Although he didn't touch her, Thorne’s gaze bored into hers. "Promise me that you're done wrestling with Zeke and Willis."
"It ain't none of your business," she said stubbornly. Although she had no intention of wrestling with them again, it wasn't his place to give her orders.
Suddenly, his anger left him, and his slate-gray eyes softened. He wound his large fingers through hers, and the look in his eyes made her knees feel weak. "I'm not trying to dictate to you, honey. I just worry about you. I know so much more about the ways of men than you do. And I know that you're a babe in the woods about certain things. This is one of them, trust me. I don't want you hurt."
His voice flowed over her, smooth and silky, and something in the sound caused shivers to slide across her arms. At the same time her goldarned legs threatened to buckle beneath her weight, making her wonder if she was coming down with the ague or something.
She felt a sudden need to placate Thorne. "I ain't gonna wrestle with 'em no more," she said. "But not because you said so. I already decided it afore you come on us like you done."
