by Nan Ryan
“Would you please?” Anna replied.
He nodded. “Want to leave tomorrow morning?”
Anna needlessly cleared her throat. “Today, if possible.”
Justin pushed back his chair. “I’ll see what I can do, and then I’ll wire the ranch that you will be coming—”
“No, don’t bother,” Anna interrupted. “I’ll surprise them.”
Twenty-Seven
If he had known she was coming home, Brit wouldn’t have been out on the front gallery that blazing hot Sunday afternoon. He wouldn’t have been anywhere near the house.
LaDextra had told him that Anna had gone to visit the Boxes in San Antonio, and that she would be gone for at least a couple of weeks. Only one week had passed since she’d left, so Brit felt comfortable in spending some time at home. He had, in fact, promised LaDextra that he would join her and Will Davis for dinner that evening.
Earlier in the afternoon Brit had ridden in from the Columbine division headquarters, where he’d spent the past three days. Now he planned to spend the night—perhaps two or three nights—at home. Sleep in his own bed for a welcome change.
He felt amazingly relaxed with Anna away and out of his sight. He realized with relief that once she was gone for good, he would be fine. Life at The Regent would return to normal, and in no time at all he would forget he’d ever met her. Held her. Kissed her. Made love to her.
At shortly after three o’clock, Brit finished his hated paperwork on the ranch’s many complicated books, stood, stretched and decided he was sleepy. His bedroom, he knew, would be hot and stuffy. There might be a breeze out on the front gallery. It seemed like the perfect time for taking a nice little nap in the big canvas hammock that hung at the east end of the gallery. LaDextra was in her room resting. The servants were all taking their siestas. The house was as quiet as a church.
Brit exited his office, stepped out onto the wide, shaded veranda. He crossed to the front steps, raised a hand to shield his eyes and gazed uneasily out over the dying brown pastures stretching to the horizon. He walked down the steps and into the sun-splashed yard. He stared long and hard in every direction, anxiously searching for any sign of smoke rising to the cloudless sky.
Satisfied that, for the moment at least, there were no dangerous grass fires threatening The Regent, Brit yawned and returned to the gallery. He approached the inviting hammock, noting that it stirred not at all. There was not a hint of a breeze. Even here on the shaded gallery it was as hot as Hades.
Since no one was around, Brit flipped open the first two buttons of his chambray shirt, raised a hand behind his head and, in one fluid masculine movement, yanked the shirt up and off. He sat down on the edge of the hammock and removed his boots and socks. He yawned again, turned about and stretched out on his back.
He lifted his slim hips, unbuttoned the top buttons of his faded Levi’s, exhaled heavily and scratched his bare abdomen. He crossed his ankles, wiggled his toes, draped a long arm over his chest and closed his eyes.
And fell instantly asleep.
The train bringing Anna home reached The Regent’s private rail spur at three o’clock on that stifling Sunday afternoon. The uniformed conductor, placing her three matching valises on the wooden platform, looked around curiously and said, “Miss, are you expected? Is someone supposed to meet you?”
Anna smiled and lied. “Of course. My driver will be here any minute.”
The conductor frowned. “I hate to leave you here alone in the middle of nowhere.”
Anna laughed musically. “Ah, but it isn’t the middle of nowhere. It’s home. My home.”
The conductor smiled, jumped back up onto the train as the wheels began to slowly turn. “Better put that bonnet on, miss,” he called as the train began to pick up speed.
“I will.”
Anna stood on the platform and waited until the locomotive, snaking slowly westward toward El Paso, became a small black ribbon moving in the heat-shimmering distance and she could no longer hear the clickity clack of the wheels turning on the tracks.
Blinking in the harsh Texas sunshine, Anna took the conductor’s advice. She put on her big-brimmed straw hat and tied the blue taffeta streamers under her throat. She was unconcerned about her luggage. A servant would be sent to fetch the heavy valises. So she lifted her long skirts, jumped down off the platform and set out for the ranch.
Soon Anna was thankful that she had chosen one of her coolest dresses, a pale blue organdy with short cap sleeves and a low, gathered bodice. It was, right now, the hottest part of the afternoon, and before she had walked a quarter of a mile, her face was shiny with perspiration and her petticoats were sticking to her legs.
Despite the discomfort, Anna was happy to be right where she was. She was glad to be home. She envisioned LaDextra’s surprise when she showed up unexpectedly. There was no doubt in her mind that LaDextra would be genuinely delighted she had returned early. Anna gave a great yelp of joy. How incredibly wonderful it was to possess the sure knowledge that after all the lonely years, she finally belonged somewhere, was loved and wanted.
At least by LaDextra.
The same could not be said for Brit Caruth.
At the thought of Brit, Anna made a misstep, almost stumbled. She told herself she didn’t care what he thought, that she hated the heartless Britton Caruth and would hate him with the last breath of her body.
But deep in her heart of hearts she knew that Brit was really the reason she had come back. To see him. To hear him. To be where he was. She was, she knew, a hopeless fool. She only hoped that he didn’t know it, too.
Anna abruptly shook her bonneted head, determined to put Brit out of her thoughts. She looked around as she climbed the slowly ascending road and was horrified by what she saw. Here at the Tierra Verde, the vast fenced pasture on either side of the ranch road, nothing grew save a few scattered walking stick cholla, some prickly pears and brittle rabbit bush. The grass was burned brown by the continuing lack of rain and the relentless summer sun. No contented cattle grazed here anymore. The starving herds had long since been moved. The majority had been placed on the farthest eastern pastures, where traces of grass still dotted the burning land. Others—the best of the herds—had been taken to the lush green pastures of the mountain tract. Thousands more had been sold at a loss.
Anna frowned worriedly.
Everyone—including her—depended on Brit to guide them through this terrible drought, to make all the hard decisions, to take the necessary actions, to keep the big beleaguered ranch running. To prevent the loss of any or all of The Regent’s empire. What, she wondered anxiously, would happen if Brit were not here and firmly in charge?
It was a sobering thought and with it came Anna’s decision to immediately start learning all that she could about the day-to-day operations of the ranch. She couldn’t count on Brit to be of any help, of course. But she could speak to LaDextra about enlisting one of the ranch’s most trusted cowhands or vaqueros to educate her. And what the ranch hand couldn’t tell or teach her, LaDextra surely could.
Anna’s mind was made up. She had wasted enough valuable time. She had to think about the future. A future in which she—not Brit—would be sole owner of The Regent. And therefore responsible for the ranch’s operation.
When Anna had walked more than a mile, she was hot and thirsty. A sheen of perspiration covered her face, throat and slender arms. She could feel moisture beading behind her knees and between her breasts.
But when she had gone another quarter mile, she began to smile. There directly ahead, in the mammoth shadow of El Capitán, a huge eight-columned, antebellum mansion—so out of place in this hot, dry desert—rose starkly white in the blazing summer sun. An oasis in the savage Texas wilderness.
Anna felt a surge of fresh energy. She picked up her pace. She hurried eagerly toward the beckoning haven of home, happily anticipating a nice, cool bath, followed by a short rest on her big soft bed. At this time of the day everyone would be sleeping, s
o she would quietly let herself in and slip up the stairs.
Anna moved quickly up the pebbled drive and silently entered the iron gate. She hurried up the long front walk and sighed with relief when at last she ascended the steps onto the broad gallery. There in the welcome shade she paused, removed her straw bonnet and fanned herself. She hooked a finger in her dress’s low bodice, pulled it out from her sticky skin and blew down inside, attempting to cool her heated, prickled flesh.
She stopped as the wispy hair at the nape of her neck rose suddenly.
A chill skipped up her spine despite the blazing heat of the afternoon. She had the eerie feeling that she was not alone. She looked down the west end of the long veranda and beyond. Nothing there. She turned her head and looked to the opposite end of the gallery.
And the straw hat dropped from her hands.
Brit lay sprawled in the hammock, sleeping soundly. He wore only a pair of faded Levi’s, which were open down his brown belly. His muscular arms and broad bare torso glistened with sweat. His handsome face, in repose, was incredibly appealing. He looked like an innocent young boy, despite the high chiseled cheekbones and strong masculine jaw. With those dangerous lips slack in slumber and the dark penetrating eyes safely closed, he appeared far less threatening than usual.
Hardly realizing what she was doing, Anna tiptoed closer. She stopped a few feet from the hammock and stared at him, fascinated, enchanted. He looked so harmless and vulnerable, so like a guileless child. Seeing him this way, so defenseless and unguarded, it was easy to envision him as the sweet little boy left orphaned at age twelve.
As if he were that same sweet little boy now, Anna had an almost overwhelming urge to touch him. To reach down and push a wayward lock of blue-black hair back off his shiny forehead and then gently cup his lean cheek in her hand.
As she was gazing adoringly at the slumbering boy, the sleeping man awakened.
Anna winced as all traces of the innocent little boy disappeared, leaving only the cynical, intimidating man.
Their gazes locked. They stared at each other for a few breathless seconds, each swamped with his own impulsive, guilty yearnings.
For Brit the temptation to gather the beautiful blond temptress into his arms was almost more than he could resist. The blood beat in his temples, his body tensed with passionate longing and fierce desire rushed over him.
For Anna the urge to lie down and press herself against this handsome seducer’s gleaming chest was almost more than she could stand. The pulse beat heavily in her throat, her body was taut with ardent yearning and primitive need washed over her.
Brit, recollecting his recent nightmare, recovered first.
“I wasn’t expecting to find you here this afternoon,” he drawled in a low, sleepy voice that sent a tingle of sensation through Anna.
“The same could be said for you,” she replied, in a voice that sounded weak and strained even to herself. “I’m sorry if I disturbed your nap.”
Brit’s hooded eyes darkened and his lips tightened and curled in a hint of a sneer. “It’s the darnedest thing,” he said. “Anybody stands over me staring while I’m asleep, I wake up every time. You that way?”
“I said I was sorry,” she replied.
Brit levered himself up into a sitting position, swung his long legs to the floor. Coming lithely to his feet, he looked her in the eye as he leisurely buttoned his Levi’s, enjoying the flustered look on her flushed face.
Taking a step toward her, he charged, “It was my understanding that you were to be gone for at least two weeks. Was I misinformed?”
Instinctively backing away from him and all that lurking sexuality, Anna said, “No, you were not.”
Brit lifted wide bronzed shoulders in a shrug. “Then what are you doing back?”
“I was homesick,” she stated emphatically, knowing he’d be annoyed that she called The Regent home.
“Ah, I see. Well, I’m sure LaDextra would have me rush out and kill a fatted calf to welcome you home.” He shook his dark head thoughtfully and added, “Only problem is, there are no fatted calves on The Regent this year. You see, we’re having a little drought in west Texas this summer and—”
“I know that,” she snapped. “I’m not stupid.”
He advanced a step. She retreated a step.
“No, you’re sure not stupid. In fact, I’d say you’re a remarkably clever woman. One of the cleverest I’ve ever known.”
Not quite sure how to take that, she said haltingly, “Well…thank you.”
“Oh, don’t thank me. Thank your momma and your daddy,” he said, smiling cynically, “whoever they may be.”
Immediately defensive, she lifted her chin defiantly and said, “You know very well who my mother and father are and I—”
“Do I?” Again he advanced on her. “Do you?”
“Yes. Yes I do. I am Anna Regent Wright and my—”
“I don’t think so.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will.”
“Don’t bet the ranch on it,” she said, before she whirled about and stormed away.
He was trapped.
He had promised LaDextra his presence at dinner and he couldn’t very well beg off just because Anna would be there, too. Damn her to hell.
Brit finished brushing his freshly shampooed hair, slipped into his navy linen suit jacket, shot his long arms out so that the cuffs of his white shirt showed exactly one inch beyond the jacket sleeves, and headed for the stairs.
His luck was running true to form today. Just as he exited his room, Anna stepped out into the corridor.
“We meet again,” he quipped, wishing they hadn’t, wishing she didn’t look so fresh and lovely in an off-the-shoulder dress of pale yellow chiffon.
“What an unexpected pleasure,” she said sarcastically, wondering why she had picked that minute to leave her room, wondering why he had to look so sinfully handsome in a dark navy linen suit and snowy white shirt.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm.
“Let’s,” she replied, wrapping a hand lightly around his biceps and feeling the muscles tighten at her touch.
Anna, so glad to be home that even Brit’s indifference couldn’t dampen her high spirits, was lively and charming at dinner. The seriously ill LaDextra, knowing that every fleeting moment counted, was thrilled that Anna had come back early. It gave the dying matriarch genuine pleasure to be able to look across the table at the two people she loved most in all the world.
How beautiful they were, her precious Anna and her cherished Brit. How young and healthy and vigorous. Their lives lay ahead of them, full of promise and challenge. Her weak heart fluttered in her chest. How could she possibly choose one over the other?
Dismissing her troublesome indecision, LaDextra said, “Anna, we want to hear everything about your trip, don’t we, Will? Brit?”
Will, who made no bones about the fact that he thought Anna hung the moon, said enthusiastically, “We sure do, honey. Don’t leave out anything now, you hear?”
No one noticed, except Anna, that Brit remained silent. She hazarded a glance at him. The frosty expression in his dark eyes assured her that he was not in the least bit interested in hearing of her escapades in the River City. Which promptly made her decide that she would indeed regale them all—including him—with her many adventures.
LaDextra and Will beamed and listened with interest as Anna spun tales of the glittering parties she had attended, one where she had even danced with the governor of Texas. Anna left nothing out.
She reeled off the names of the eligible bachelors who had been thrilled to escort her to the many social functions.
LaDextra asked pointedly, “And did any one of those handsome young men steal your heart?”
Anna smiled enigmatically. “Well…there was one who…” She let her words trail away and laughed girlishly.
LaDextra and Will laughed with her.
Brit did not.
His black eyes now
stormy beneath heavily lashed lids, he drained his wineglass and refilled it. Anna continued to entertain and amuse her enraptured audience with vivid descriptions of the soirees she had attended. As she gaily went on and on about the dances and moonlight strolls and carriage rides, Brit found himself growing more and more irritated.
Never one to turn away from the truth, he faced the reason for his building annoyance. He was jealous. He didn’t like the idea of her dancing with another man. Or holding hands. Or kissing. Or…or—
Abruptly Brit tossed his napkin on the table and pushed back his chair. Anna stopped speaking in midsentence. She, LaDextra and Will all turned to look at him questioningly.
Unsmiling, he rose to his feet and said, “Please excuse me, I have an engagement in town.”
“Why, Brit, honey, you haven’t had dessert,” LaDextra said, frowning. “Maggie Mae baked a blackberry cobbler especially for you.”
“Tell her to put a bowl of it aside for me,” he said, and exited the dining room without another word.
LaDextra shook her white head. “I swear, I don’t know what’s gotten into Brit lately. I’ve never seen him turn down blackberry cobbler.” She sighed and was silent for a moment. Then she brightened, turned back to Anna and said, “Now go on with the story. You were with…”
Nodding, Anna picked up where she had left off.
But continuing to talk about the parties, dances and flirtations was no longer enjoyable now that Brit was gone. She had, she realized with despair, desperately hoped to make him jealous with all her talk of eager beaux.
Obviously, it hadn’t worked.
Twenty-Eight
The dog days of August dragged listlessly by as a smothering blanket of heat continued to cover the dry, parched land of southwest Texas.
The sleepy little town of Regentville was sleepier than usual. The wooden sidewalks and benches on the plaza were deserted most afternoons.
