by Sandra Brown
The sun rose higher behind them, and they continued at a canter. Finally, when Lauren thought she couldn’t keep from crying in pain much longer, Jared slowed down and led her off the road toward the swiftly running river. They reined in under the enormous cypress trees.
“I’m ready for a break,” he said as he lithely dismounted. He led his horse to the stream and the palomino lowered his head to drink.
Lauren still sat on her horse. She had done exceptionally well in riding, she thought, but she was unsure about mounting and dismounting without a block to stand on.
Jared looked back, then walked over and offered his hands up to her. Painfully she pulled her leg from the far side of the saddle and timidly placed a hand on each of his broad shoulders. His hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her gently to the ground. She didn’t look at him, but kept her head lowered until he released her. She felt his breath against her cheek. It was warm.
The mare needed no encouragement to join Jared’s mount at the river. Taking a canteen from his saddlebag, Jared uncapped it and handed it to Lauren. She took a few swallows and gave it back to him. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Yes, a little.” She was trying not to wince as she slowly and stiffly lowered herself onto a large, flat rock.
He pulled a few wrapped sandwiches out of the saddlebag and offered her one. “I made these this morning, and I can’t vouch for their quality.”
“It’s fine,” Lauren said, biting into the thick, dry ham sandwich.
“I know how to cook over a campfire, but a kitchen makes me nervous.” His mouth quirked in the semblance of a smile.
She had never made small talk with him before. Since he had initiated the conversation, she was eager to continue it. Strained though it was, it was a beginning. “I like to cook. My guardians in Clayton had a cook/housekeeper who ruled her kitchen like a despot, but sometimes she would let me experiment with a recipe.”
“Maybe Gloria will let you putter around in her kitchen. If you can stand all the kids underfoot.”
“Who’s Gloria?” she asked with interest.
“She’s Rudy’s wife.” He saw her eyebrows raise in another question. “Rudy’s my… uh… he’s the foreman at the ranch. He and Gloria live there with… his mother. They have a baby every year or so.” He smiled, and Lauren noticed that his eyes crinkled at the corners. She had glimpsed only a few unguarded genuine smiles at their wedding reception. They made him appear younger.
“Ben…” she hesitated over that name. Why should she? She continued doggedly, “Ben told me that one of your vaqueros is an Indian.”
Jared laughed. “You’d better believe it. Right down to his boots—which he usually forsakes for moccasins. Thorn is a Comanche. My father found him when he and a few Rangers raided a village to rescue some white captives. Thorn was half-dead with a gunshot wound and starvation, either of which should have killed him.”
He swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and dusted his hands free of bread crumbs. “Anyway, Ben brought him back to Keypoint. Thorn was about eleven or twelve, I guess. It was long before I was born. He’s been there ever since and is one of our best hands. He and Ben were very attached to each other. Thorn used to take us—Rudy and me—out on the plains. He taught us to stalk deer, read the stars, the weather, things like that.”
Lauren was amazed, not only at the story, but at Jared’s telling it. He had never been so loquacious. “Then you and Rudy grew up together?” she asked.
He was made uneasy by the question and answered laconically, “Yeah.”
She tried again. “I think your land is beautiful, Jared. I really do.” She said it impulsively, but emphatically.
He looked at her strangely, then away. He squinted his eyes against the late-morning sun’s glare as they swept the panorama before them. “Yes, it is beautiful.” He seemed entranced with the view for long, silent minutes, then stood up abruptly as if embarrassed by having spoken so freely. “If you need some privacy, go behind those rocks over there.”
It took her a few seconds to comprehend his meaning. Then she lowered her head in confusion and stammered, “No, I… I’m fine.”
“Then if you’ll excuse me,” he said with exaggerated gallantry. He loomed over her with characteristic impudence, and she blushed to the roots of her hair. He laughed out loud as he sauntered off, his spurs jingling against the small rocks lining the riverbank.
Lauren rewrapped the remainder of her sandwich and put it back into Jared’s saddlebag, standing warily beside the huge palomino. A rifle was sheathed in a scabbard strapped to the back of his saddle. She had noted earlier that Jared was wearing a holstered pistol. Never in her life had she been around firearms, and they terrified her. Yet her husband seemed not to think anything at all about having them so close at hand.
When he had come back and gathered the reins of the horses, she commented, “I noticed some uprooted trees over there. Is someone clearing that land?”
“No, that’s what the Rio Caballo can do if it gets angry enough. That happened two years ago and was one of the worst flash floods in recent history. Trees, cattle, houses, even bridges, were washed away.”
“But the river seems so tranquil.”
“Most of the time, it is. But if it rains hard enough and fills up the streams in the hills, the river can become an entity to reckon with. It takes back some of what it’s given to the land.” It was a poetic philosophy for this usually taciturn man.
Mechanically he gave her a boost up to her horse. She couldn’t contain a gasp as she resumed that torturous position. To cover it, she asked, “What is my horse’s name?”
“Name? I think the vaqueros call her Flame because of her color.”
“And yours?”
“This is Charger,” he said proudly, patting the beautiful stallion’s neck. “He’s not his usual self this morning. I think… Flame has got him excited.” The golden-brown eyes slanted toward Lauren and were rewarded with a high blush that stained her cheeks. Involuntarily her eyes were drawn to the part of the stallion that manifested his maleness.
They say he is as big as a stallion! Lauren nearly choked when Elena’s words once again came back to her.
Jared roared with laughter. “Don’t worry, Lauren. He’s too much of a gentleman to mount her in public. But I’ll keep a tight rein on him, in case her attraction proves to be too much for him.” When his laughter subsided he said, “He’s quite an animal, isn’t he? Ben gave him to me when I came home from Cuba.” In an instant, Lauren’s embarrassment vanished and was replaced by astonishment.
“You fought in the war?” she exclaimed in surprise.
He nodded curtly in affirmation. He obviously didn’t appreciate reminders of the war. His eyes turned as hard and cold as agates. Distressed that she had spoiled his civil mood she turned her head away from him and became intensely interested in the horizon.
* * *
They rode for another hour before cresting a hill and reining in. On the other side, the land spread out like a large, shallow bowl, creating an incredible vista. A sizable herd of cattle, mostly Hereford, was grazing in the pasture and standing in the shallows of the river, which wound through the meadow. A few cattle, whose curly red coats contrasted with the colors of the verdant pasture, lazed in the shadows of the cedar trees dotting the valley.
Lauren was so taken by the sight that she wasn’t aware of the thundering hooves approaching her and Jared until the horses were almost upon them. She screamed when she saw about ten riders, bandanas pulled up over their noses, hats pulled down low, brandishing pistols and rifles and shouting at the top of their voices.
They rode toward her and Jared pell-mell, leaning forward over their saddle horns. She whirled toward Jared in fright, and was astounded to see him adjusting his red scarf over his nose in the same manner as the bandits. Faster than she could follow his movements, he whipped the rifle from the scabbard and cocked it. Then, spurring Charger, he galloped toward the attacke
rs giving a bloodcurdling Comanche yell.
The bandits fired their guns into the air and effortlessly surrounded Jared. He reined in on Charger so hard that the horse reared and pawed the air. Miraculously Jared maintained his seat.
Lauren’s heart pounded in her ears in pure terror. Why had Jared left her? Surely he didn’t think he could fight off all of these desperadoes single-handedly? After they killed him, what would they do to her? Flame pranced excitedly beneath her. She couldn’t concentrate on holding the horse steady, so fixed was her attention on the scene being played out before her.
Jared slid off Charger, and the leader of the gang dismounted his own horse with a similar graceful motion. The others remained in their saddles and formed a tight circle around their leader and Jared, who faced each other squarely. Everything was deathly quiet.
Lauren was terrified as she realized that Jared and the bandit were going to draw on each other. The men stood a few feet apart, their legs wide, arms loose at their sides, every muscle tense. They were much alike in build and height. They stared at each other over their bandanas. Lauren held her breath.
They moved with lightning speed, and the pistols exploded simultaneously in the silence, the blast echoing off the surrounding hills.
Chapter 10
Either the sudden crack of the pistols or Lauren’s kneejerk reaction to it startled Flame. She bolted and raced uncontrolled across the pasture. Lauren was too frightened to scream. Only instinct forced her to hold on to the saddle as the ground rushed under her in a blur. The thudding of Flame’s hooves was joined by another’s, but Lauren didn’t risk turning around for fear of unseating herself and greater fear of what she would see in pursuit.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of blond mane seconds before she felt an iron arm grab her around the waist and drag her from Flame’s back. The mare streaked out from under her. Lauren’s legs danced in midair like a puppet’s as she was held against the heaving sides of the horse. She closed her eyes tightly. Her arms closed around the waist of the man in the saddle as he hauled her up in front of him.
After what seemed like an eternity, they began to slow down, and then were completely still. The heart in the hard chest beneath her head beat loudly against her ear. Lauren raised her head and looked into amber eyes over a red bandana.
“Lauren?”
She recognized the voice and slumped against Jared in relief that they were both still alive. He tightened his arms around her. She was content to leave her head against his chest with her eyes closed. Sounds of approaching horses invaded her serenity. She had forgotten their attackers!
“Is she all right, Jared?”
“I think so. Just a little shaken up.” Jared’s reassuring voice reverberated in her head. “Lauren,” he repeated quietly. Reluctantly she opened her eyes and raised her head.
Jared lowered his bandana and looked down at her. Was it concern she saw in his face? Charger impatiently tossed his head and brought her out of the hypnotic state that this unplanned closeness to Jared had induced.
She looked at the other rider. His features were much like Jared’s, except he was darker of complexion and hair. He, too, had pulled the bandana from his face and was smiling at her congenially. Shyly her gaze traveled around the semicircle of vaqueros nearly surrounding them. They appeared not in the least malevolent, but only curious and a trifle chagrined.
“Lauren, this is Rudy Mendez and these are Keypoint’s vaqueros—some of them. Did we frighten you?” Jared’s tenderness amazed her.
She nodded dumbly; then, remembering the draw contest, said, “But I saw you shoot each other.” Her lips trembled.
Rudy laughed and white teeth flashed in his swarthy face. “Sometimes I think Jared needs shooting, but we try to miss when we’re only playing.” He winked at her. “Rudy Mendez at your service, Mrs. Lockett. Welcome to Keypoint. Jared should have warned you of our rough games. Our welcoming committee got overzealous today. Can you forgive us?”
His smile was so engaging that Lauren smiled tremulously and murmured, “Yes. I’m sorry I caused such a fuss.” Suddenly she was conscious that she must look a fright. Her hat had been torn from her head and was resting on her shoulders. Her hair had loosened from the tight braid, and wisps of it blew around her face. Worst of all, she was being held in a most unladylike way across Jared’s lap, his strong arms supporting her. When she realized she still had her arms wrapped around him, she withdrew them instantly.
But she hadn’t counted on Charger choosing that time to stamp the ground impatiently. She came close to being unbalanced most ignominiously. Grasping desperately for whatever handhold was available, her fingers groped around the tight bulge between Jared’s thighs. His expletive echoed in her ear just before he hissed unevenly, “For godsake, don’t do that. Put your arms around my waist and keep them there.” She obeyed. Luckily Charger had continued his prancing, so no one had witnessed her folly. With a flick of his wrist, Jared brought the horse around. He was unaware of the silly grin on his face that was so obvious to everyone else.
The vaqueros and Rudy stared unabashedly at Jared’s bride. She was so beautiful! When word had gotten back to the ranch that their Jared was hurriedly marrying a girl from back East, there had been some unflattering speculations on her charms. Now they saw why their boss had been so eager to get this girl into his bed.
Lauren was becoming increasingly uncomfortable under their stares, and Rudy noticed it. “Doesn’t anyone have work to do?” he asked the vaqueros. They caught his drift and one by one tipped their hats to Lauren and pulled their horses around, heading back toward the herd. “I’ll fetch your horse, Mrs. Lockett.”
“No, Rudy,” Jared said. “I’ll take her the rest of the way with me. That mare is probably into her second bag of oats by now.”
“No trouble, Jared,” Rudy taunted. Jared’s preference for the current arrangement wasn’t lost on him.
The vaqueros whistled and hooted back at them as Jared nudged Charger with his knee and they started across the pasture. “Dammit,” Jared muttered close to her ear. Oh, God, he groaned silently as she shifted her hips, looking for a more comfortable position.
Rudy rode up beside them and watched as Lauren eased herself away from Jared’s chest. His arms seemed reluctant to relieve their firm hold on her, but Rudy saw the muscles slowly relax. There appeared to be a tangible tension between these two.
Jared had cursed this Lauren Holbrook when he came to Keypoint after Ben’s funeral. He insulted her heritage, intelligence, and morality. Rudy had teased him about her then but, to his surprise, Jared informed him he hadn’t even seen the girl.
“Then how do you know she’s so disreputable? Anyway, I thought you said you had gone to Austin to pick her up.”
“I did!” Jared exclaimed angrily. “But I… oh, hell. Just drop it, will you?”
Rudy knew better than to press further. Scarcely a week later, Pepe came out to the ranch with supplies and the news that Jared was marrying the very girl he had claimed never to have seen and yet had called a “conniving little tart.” Well, Rudy thought, he’s seen her now. But good.
Gloria and Mamma were thrilled about the marriage, so Rudy had kept his reservations about its future to himself. If Jared had a brain in his head, which Rudy sometimes doubted, he would keep this woman under lock and key. She was gorgeous, and a lady, and, by the tortured look on Jared’s face, he wasn’t oblivious to her charms. He chuckled to himself. Good for you, Lauren.
He spoke out loud, “Gloria, my wife, is looking forward to meeting you, Mrs. Lockett. She’s been more excited than the kids.”
“Please call me Lauren. How many children do you have, Mr. Mendez?”
“I’m Rudy.” He grinned. “Well, let’s see,” he said, silently ticking off names on his fingers. “Jared, help me. Is it six or seven?”
Jared snorted. “I think when I left it was six, with number seven well on the way. Of course, if Gloria has delivered early, I�
�m sure you’ve already started number eight.”
“Don’t be crude in front of your bride,” Rudy scolded, but his eyes were twinkling. He looked several years older than Jared, and there was something familiar about him.
Lauren was trying to decide what it was when she saw the ranch house. It was large and sprawling, a one-story building of limestone blocks with a cedar shingle roof. Four cedar posts supported the roof over a wide front porch running the breadth of the house. There were several outbuildings, all built of the same materials. Well-constructed corrals dotted the compound. Laughing, squealing children played about the yard, the only area where grass was growing. The two horses were led into the yard and halted before a hitching post. Rudy dismounted.
Jared and Lauren remained as they were for a moment before Jared looked down at her and said softly, “You were frightened. I’m sorry.”
His face was very close to hers. There was no measurable expression on it, but the voice was so unlike any he had formerly used that she was held spellbound. Emotion swelled her throat, but she said, “It’s all right. I’ve recovered.” Again she witnessed that quick lifting of the corners of his mouth that might be considered a smile.
He took a firm hold around her waist with one arm and lowered her gently to the ground. On her descent, his hand slid from her waist to her armpit. His fingers lightly grazed her breast.
They were both shaken by the contact. Lauren tried to recover herself by straightening her clothing. Jared swung down from his horse as if irritated. Rudy, who had seen the whole thing and noted the reactions, caught Jared’s eye and winked slyly. Jared glowered at him.
The door of the house was flung open and Gloria flew out of it. The children, who had spotted their father and Jared, rushed over to them, grabbing them around the legs, pushing and shoving and vying for their attention.
“Lauren, Lauren, welcome. I’m Gloria.”
The uninhibited Gloria hugged Lauren in a warm, encompassing embrace. Lauren laughed at the Mexican woman’s exuberance. She was older than Lauren and, though she lacked the classic beauty of Elena, was very pretty. Her olive complexion glowed with health and happiness, which were also reflected in her dark eyes. Like Elena, she was expecting a child, though her time wasn’t as imminent. She wore a dark skirt, with a full but tailored shirtwaist over it in deference to her condition. Her glossy black hair was pulled back from a center part into a chignon at the back of her head.
