West Texas Match (The West Texans Series #1)

by Ginger Chambers

  “I gather she doesn’t approve of Rio.”

  “You heard her. She wants him fired. But Rafe won’t do it. He knows a good hand when he sees one. I heard him tell Daddy that Rio’s a hard worker, that he’d like to find a couple more like him. He said that. Of course, Daddy dithered. Daddy’s good at dithering. When Aunt Mae coughs, he covers his mouth. But Rafe...Rafe stands up to her. That’s why I don’t think...” She hesitated.

  “What?”

  “That he’ll fire him.”

  “You sound a little uncertain all of a sudden.”

  “Well, Rafe may take it into his head to...”

  “To what?” Shannon urged when the girl again hesitated.

  “He could change his mind, decide that maybe we should be separated. He changed his mind about Rosemary.”

  Shannon frowned. “Who’s Rosemary?”

  “She and Rafe were going to get married, but they didn’t. No one knows why. He won’t say.”

  “When was this?”

  “Around four years ago. I was thirteen.”

  Shannon nodded. Was that why Mae had decided to take matters into her own hands? Because Rafe seemed not to be doing a particularly good job of finding a wife on his own? He was much too handsome for the cause to be anything other than his own choice, though. Long and lean and virile, he should have no trouble getting a woman—as long as you discounted his annoying qualities.

  “If there was only some way I could make more money.” Jodie groaned in frustration. “Baby-sitting and odd jobs just aren’t enough!”

  “What would you do with it if you had it?”

  “Leave here!”

  Shannon found a chair and sat in it, then patted the chair at her side for Jodie. The girl looked toward her house for a moment, then sat down.

  The night was growing cool. Shannon had taken time to collect a light jacket, but Jodie had none.

  “Should you go get a sweater or something?” Shannon asked.

  Jodie shook her head. “If I go inside, I’ll have to stay. If I’m out at night Daddy thinks Rio and I—” She stopped, her chin falling.

  “And do you?” Shannon asked softly.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Are you careful?”

  “Every time. I’m not stupid, even if Aunt Mae—”

  “You love him?” Shannon interrupted her.

  “So much it hurts!”

  Shannon was silent. A moment later she asked, “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Just...things. Nothing, really.” Jodie stood, too restless suddenly to sit still. “I better go in before Daddy notices I’m not there. All I need is for him to start watching me like a hawk, too.”

  She started to leave, but Shannon stopped her by saying, “Jodie... keep being careful. And come talk to me anytime you want. I’m feeling stronger now. There’s no reason why we can’t...”

  “...be friends?” Jodie inserted hopefully.

  “Be friends,” Shannon confirmed.

  Jodie smiled at her and after offering a shy wave, she continued on her way.

  Shannon thought about going inside but decided not to. She could feel a restlessness growing in her, as well. She’d been sedentary for so long, either in bed or sitting in chairs. Therapy had been more like hell than recreation. Only the last few days in the sun had been enjoyable. Maybe she would do as Mae suggested and try her hand at riding a horse again. She’d had numerous lessons when she was younger. A phase, her mother had called it. But horseback riding had become a passion with Shannon. It stopped only when she went away to college. Of course, she had learned English style, with jodhpurs, high boots and helmet, and had ridden at a large formally appointed stable near her home. Riding here would be different, but not that different. She loved to feel the power of the animal beneath her as they covered ground. She loved the fact that two spirits—animal and human—could unite and share such joy.

  Someone touched her on the shoulder, and she jumped. She was halfway out of the chair before she realized it was Rafe Parker.

  “My God, don’t sneak up on a person like that!” she scolded him.

  “What did you think was going to get you? A cougar?”

  “Maybe a robber or a rapist. How am I supposed to know?”

  He shook his head. “Not out here. At least, not on the Parker Ranch.”

  “Because you won’t allow it?” she challenged sarcastically.

  “Precisely.”

  She felt the touch of his dark eyes and instinctively folded her arms across her chest, a defensive action that unsettled Shannon even more. Why should she react in such a way just because he was looking at her?

  “You seem...different tonight,” he said after a moment.

  “I decided to dress for dinner.”

  “Your hair’s different, too.”

  “Is that some kind of crime?”

  She actually felt him smile. “Not in these parts,” he drawled.

  Shannon drew a deep breath and decided to face the problem head-on. He knew and she knew, so why tiptoe around the situation, artfully or not so artfully sparring with each other each time they met? “Mr. Parker—” she began.

  “Rafe,” he corrected her.

  “Rafe,” she started again, “there’s something we need to discuss. Something you believe. That I...That...” She took another breath. “That I’m here as a candidate for your wife!”

  “And are you?” he asked levelly, seemingly unperturbed.

  “No! I tried to tell you before but you—”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” he drawled, then started to walk toward his house.

  She blinked and hurried after him. “Is that all you have to say?” she demanded when she caught up. He continued walking, and she had to struggle to keep pace.

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “No. I think we should talk about it.”

  “Women always want to talk about things.”

  “It’s called communication, Mr. Parker.”

  “Rafe.”

  This time she ignored his correction. “How could you possibly think I’d be a party to such a thing? I’m not some kind of commodity sitting on a shelf waiting to be purchased! Your aunt didn’t wrap me in pretty paper and tie a bow around my neck!”

  They’d arrived at the narrow porch that fronted his house. When Rafe turned to face her, Shannon couldn’t be sure if he was angry or amused, and suddenly she wasn’t so sure she’d done the right thing in pressing the argument. She’d made her position known, and he’d acknowledged it. What more did she need?

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” he said, “my aunt doesn’t take much of anything into consideration except her own goals. She likes to tell other people what to do. What you want, what I want, don’t enter into it.”

  “Can’t you stop her?”

  “You ever try to stop a tornado?”

  “But...this is ridiculous!”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Then how...? It’s absolutely stupid to think that you...that I...” She looked up at him in frustration. He looked down at her. And once again something very strange happened. Another shifting of time and space.

  She was no longer Shannon Bradley, a woman struggling to deal with her recent loss and physical injury, and he was no longer Rafe Parker, the manager and part owner of the Parker Ranch whose great-aunt had a very determined set of mind. They were just two people alone, under the bright moon and stars of the West Texas sky. Two people who felt an overwhelming irresistible spark.

  As if with a will of their own, his fingers came out to touch her cheek, to explore the tender skin. Then, hovering with the delicacy of a butterfly, they moved to her neck and threaded into her hair.

  She stepped closer, and a small sound escaped his throat. The next instant she was in his arms, being held tightly against his hard-muscled body, reveling in his strength as his mouth dropped to devour hers.

  It was a kiss like none she’d ever experienced bef
ore. It was as if all the fantasies she’d ever had were suddenly met.

  When he pushed her against the outer wall of his house, pinning her there as he continued to plunder her mouth, her neck, her breasts, she didn’t protest.

  Neither did he protest as his hat fell off, her fingers twisting in his hair, clasping his shoulders. Doing anything to bring him nearer.

  His body...what he was doing...the way he was making her feel...nothing seemed to matter but that. She didn’t want it to end—ever! She was caught in a tide she couldn’t control and had to have more...and more...

  All at once she stiffened, jerking her head away to look at him. What was she doing? Every inflamed fiber of her being demanded that she allow the act to continue. But not with him! He wasn’t James! But then, she’d never felt anything like this with James. James had been sweet, gentle, loving, patient. A sun-kissed breeze on a warm summer day. This was...Vesuvius! Krakatoa!

  A panicky fear shot through her and Shannon pushed away, taking advantage of Rafe’s momentary imbalance to put some distance between them.

  He seemed just as stunned as she was, although she could tell from the fires still glowing in his dark eyes that the slightest encouragement would set him off again.

  “I... That...just now...” Her voice was thin, unsteady.

  He said nothing, which made the situation all the worse. Shannon’s breathing was coming in labored gasps, her body still maddeningly vulnerable. Yet at the same time she felt a great shame. What had happened just now? Why had she allowed it to happen?

  Moon madness! She clung desperately to the first excuse that popped into her head. Her gaze pleaded with him to say something, to come up with a better reason. But he was like a stone wall. She would get nothing from him. No explanation, no sop for her conscience.

  Tears sprang into her eyes. Not wanting him to see them, she spun around and ran across the courtyard to the main house, then up to her room and to what she hoped would be a return to sanity.

  ~*~

  Rafe bent to retrieve his hat as conflicting emotions roiled through him, anger and frustration running a close race. “Damn it all to hell!” he swore fiercely. He hadn’t meant for that to happen. One second he’d been looking at her, slightly amused by her reaction to his great-aunt’s determination, and the next...

  He wiped a hand across his brow. If she hadn’t stopped them, would they even have made it into the house? Or, like a rutting bull, would he have continued to press his pursuit, disregarding everything in his need to mate, uncaring of who might see?

  He stepped uncomfortably through his front door, Shep loyally at his heels. Why had it happened with her, of all people? Maybe he should’ve gone to the border town with the boys after the roundup and let off a little steam. Allowed himself to duck the yoke of responsibility for once. Find sweet comfort in the arms of a willing senorita.

  Upon reflection, though, willing hadn’t been a problem with Miss Bradley. She hadn’t made one move of protest, one sound of refusal. Instead, she’d welcomed him with open arms, as desirous of him as he was of her. Only later had she pulled away, seemingly horrified.

  His body was like a coiled spring as he paced the floor, attempting to walk off some of the tension.

  “Damn it all to hell!” he repeated. Only this time he said it more loudly.

  If she were anyone else, he could apologize. Or he could follow it through, see where the path might lead. See if she remained so horrified in the future. But Shannon Bradley wasn’t just anyone. She was Mae’s pick for his bride. And he was damned if he was going to let his aunt meddle in his life! She might think she could get away with telling the others what to do, but not him. The same streak of determination that ran so fiercely through her also ran through him.

  For a second he stopped pacing, caught in the memory of Shannon Bradley’s delicate curves, the way her breasts fit so perfectly in his hands, the way her mouth had blossomed under his, the way her fingernails had dug into his back as she wordlessly demanded he move closer.

  A shiver of renewed desire passed through him, and he closed his eyes in protest.

  No! Not her! He wouldn’t let it happen!

  With tremendous force of will, he banned her from his thoughts. “Come on, boy,” he called to Shep. “Let’s find you something to eat.”

  Shep looked at him from where he sat on the floor, his ears cocked at the strain he detected in Rafe’s voice and behavior.

  Rafe returned his look. “Come on,” he said irritably, snapping his fingers.

  Shep lumbered to his feet, walked over to him and licked his hand.

  As Rafe gazed down into the warm brown eyes, his irritation dissolved. Like the good cowdog he’d been all his life, Shep knew the exact moment when one of his charges needed special attention.

  ~*~

  Shannon didn’t know what to do with herself as she moved agitatedly around her room. Sanity had yet to present itself. She could still feel the imprint of Rafe Parker’s hands, his mouth, the hard pressure of his body. Finally, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, standing for ages under the hot stream of water, letting her tears flow.

  “James...James...” she cried brokenly. She hadn’t meant for anything like that to happen. Why had it happened? It wasn’t Rafe. It couldn’t be Rafe. She hardly knew him, for heaven’s sake!

  Was she that starved for a man’s touch, any man’s touch, that she could explode with such a depth of feeling? The thought terrified her. Was she that empty inside? And if she was, what should she do about it?

  “James...James...” She kept repeating his name, remembering he was barely five months dead. That he was the man she’d planned to marry and for whom she’d been prepared to foreswear all others. The man she loved.

  She closed her eyes but could only see dark eyes glittering in a deeply bronzed face, a mouth that could set her blood afire—moving over her, blazing a trail of molten lava. His hands, sensitive and demanding—

  No! Her tears increased as she fought to push the unwanted images away. Blond hair, sweet face, dark blue eyes, slim build, sweet laugh—James!

  Slowly her panic subsided. As long as she kept James’s image paramount in her mind, no other could intrude.

  She finished her shower, donned pajamas and slipped into bed. Outside she could hear the far-off howl of a lone coyote. “Ki-yoo-ooo-ooo!” it called, then again, “Ki-yoo-ooo-ooo!”

  The plaintive sound continued for another ten minutes. Shannon lay in bed, her heart beating strongly, her eyes wide open and staring at the darkened ceiling.

  ~*~

  The next morning Shannon went back to her previous post-accident manner of dressing. Last night Rafe had noticed the change in her. Had that helped bring on what had followed? She did her best to ignore her own participation in the episode.

  Chin held high she went downstairs, had breakfast with Mae—who looked at her oddly, as if puzzled by her return to blandness—then went outside, determined to explore a little more of the ranch. Gib had said she wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes even if she went to the stock pens. Not that she planned to go that far yet, but it was nice to have the option.

  She didn’t okay her plan with Mae because she saw no reason to; also, because the absolute last thing she wanted was for Mae to call Rafe over and direct him to show her around.

  At one point in the night she’d thought about leaving the ranch. About packing her bags and requesting an immediate return trip to Austin. Only, what reason could she give for her abrupt turnaround? There was none, and she couldn’t insult Mae’s intelligence by making something up. Nor could she tell her the truth—that she was terrified by something she didn’t understand, a huge flaw in her own personality that could allow her to forget James and everything they’d meant to each other for a few wild seconds of erotic pleasure.

  Shannon pulled her thoughts back on track. It was an anomaly, a one-time thing. It would not happen again. And if Rafe Parker ever had the temeri
ty to bring up the matter, she would accuse him of taking advantage of her. She’d been lonely; he’d sensed it and struck.

  Her steps sped up at the prevarication. Running from the devil, her mother would have chided her. Well, perhaps she was. In more ways than one.

  Shannon followed the pathway that led from the family compound to the working heart of the ranch. The barn she could easily identify. Other structures were less distinctive, particularly the long low buildings situated at odds with each other and extending most of the way to the pens.

  As she stood irresolutely on the path, a woman came out of one of the long low buildings. Her energetic pace was unmistakable—Harriet.

  Harriet spotted her and, smiling broadly, waved. “Shannon! Hello!” she called, and made quick work of the distance between them. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? Too nice to stay indoors. You thought so, too, hmm?”

  “I’m being adventurous.”

  Harriet laughed. “Adventure is walking on a city street. This?” She motioned around her. “This is nothing. No cars to flatten you if you forget to look both ways. No muggers ready to jump out at you.”

  “What about that coyote I heard last night?” Shannon asked, smiling.

  “Coyotes won’t hurt you unless you’re a mouse or a rabbit. They don’t eat people. Were you afraid?”

  Shannon shook her head. “Not really.” Not of the coyote, at any rate.

  “Would you like me to show you around?” Harriet offered.

  “You have the time?”

  “The kids are with LeRoy, so I’m footloose and fancy-free. What would you like to see first?”

  Shannon shrugged.

  Harriet smiled with understanding. “It’s a big place, isn’t it? My parents’ ranch was smaller—much smaller. I was all agog when LeRoy brought me here the first time. We measured our land in acres, not in sections like the Parkers do.” She glanced at Shannon. “A section is 640 acres. And the Parkers have a bunch of ’em. Into the hundreds. I forget how many exactly.”

  “That is big,” Shannon murmured.

  “So big it has to be split into divisions so everybody knows where everybody else is talking about—Little Springs, Red Canyon, Indian Wells, to name just a few.”