Hidden Fires

by Sandra Brown

  “Duncan,” Jared said curtly.

  “We sure was sorry to hear about yore pa, Mr. Jared. That’s a real shame now, ain’t it?”

  Jared ignored the comment. “How’s your business?”

  “Well,” he whined, “it could always be better. If’n you’d let us clear some of the land where them damned nesters is, we could both be better off.”

  “You know that land is off-limits to you, and it always will be. You stay on this side of the river, or you’re off for good, understand?”

  “Now, Mr. Jared, you wouldn’t run us off. What with our famblies and all.” He paused and split his lips in a sickening parody of a smile. “You couldn’t see June no more, either.”

  Jared swung down from his saddle and stood facing the man, his body as tense as a coiled snake ready to strike. Only common sense and the grim consequences of such a stupid action kept him from grinding his fist into Duncan’s insolent face.

  The charcoal burner read the hesitation and continued with a leer, “You hadn’t forgotten Juney now, hadja, Mr. Jared?” He inclined his head and Lauren followed his indication to the cabin where a young woman leaned against the doorjamb. Her expression was as insolent as the man’s. She pushed away from the door and sauntered closer to them, her hips swinging suggestively. She was barefoot and her feet were caked with dirt. Her dress barely covered her knees and the bodice was stretched across pendulous breasts. Lauren realized that she was naked under the thin cotton dress and was stunned at the girl’s immodesty. Her hair was almost white and her eyes were piercing blue. She might have been pretty, even beautiful, if it weren’t for the sullen mouth that drooped at the corners and her lack of personal hygiene.

  The slinking walk brought her to within a few inches of Jared. She swayed slightly as she said huskily, “Hello, Jared.”

  Jared turned on his heels and walked over to Flame and her rider. He raised his voice. “This is my wife.” He placed a gloved hand on Lauren’s thigh, and if she had not been frightened by this strange camp and the gypsylike people who lived here, she would have wondered why she trembled and felt like melting at his touch. “If anyone from this camp comes near her, I’ll kill him. You have been warned.” It could have been her imagination that he applied more pressure to her leg just before he released it. He walked around Charger and mounted in one fluid movement.

  “Uh… Mr. Jared, we was wonderin’ what’s gonna happen to all of the goddam nesters and sheepherders when you dam up the river.” Duncan stood with his squat legs spread, arms akimbo, his chin thrust out belligerently. Gone was the groveling attitude he had assumed at first.

  Jared riveted his amber eyes on the man. “Where in hell did you ever hear that?”

  “I don’t rightly recall.” He scratched his head in mock-puzzlement, and Lauren was nauseated to see startled lice crawling in his hair. “Word just got around, that’s all.”

  “Well, it’s only gossip. Understand? I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

  “If’n they was to move on like, could we work that land then?”

  “I’m going to say it one more time.” Jared’s voice was hard and even, as sharp as a rapier. “You work only where I or Rudy tell you you can. Nowhere else. And anything else that happens on Lockett land is none of your business.” He rested his hand lightly on his pistol holster.

  He nudged Charger with his knees and Lauren did the same to Flame. They rode out of the camp slowly, though she would have liked to gallop, so malevolent were the looks that June had given her. When she had passed close to the girl, Lauren heard her hiss, “Bitch!”

  When the camp was well behind them, Jared pulled up and listened for a moment before he spoke. “I think it’s all right now.”

  “What in the world is that place? I was frightened.”

  “I was, too.” He laughed. “That riffraff back there are charcoal burners. Wat Duncan is more or less their leader. Ben made a deal with him years ago that they could cut down the cedar and burn it into charcoal. There’s a market for it in San Antonio. They use it to purify the water and make it taste better.” Lauren remembered the bitter-tasting water she had drunk from the spring and Jared’s explanation that it had to be filtered. “We let them keep all their profits and, in turn, they keep the ranges cleared of excess cedar. The only problem is that they are mean, dishonest, and completely amoral.”

  Lauren looked away from him as she murmured, “The girl was pretty in a way.”

  A grin twitched his lips as he studied her. He said, “One day in my reckless youth, Ben caught June and me giving each other a biology lesson. He beat me to within an inch of my life. I never went near her again, especially after he impressed upon me what can befall a young man who fools around with sluts like her. She and Wat must have been insulted, because he never fails to make reference to her when I’m around.”

  “Are they related?”

  “Yes. She’s his sister.” He paused significantly. “And his mate.”

  Lauren felt ill as she spurred Flame into a gallop behind Jared’s lead.

  * * *

  They were only a few miles from the house when the wind suddenly shifted to northerly and the gusts of cold air stung Lauren’s cheeks. Her eyes began to water.

  Jared shouted for her to pull her bandana over her nose as he did, and it offered a little protection from the biting wind.

  They rode a few more minutes and then he signaled for her to follow him. He led her to a group of boulders and rode into a pocket formed by the enormous rocks.

  Lauren was shivering from the cold, but at least now they were out of the fierce wind. Jared came around to Flame’s side and offered up his arms to help her down. She placed her hands on his shoulders as he lowered her gently to the ground.

  She welcomed the warmth of his arms as they slowly enclosed her in a hesitant embrace. Her hat slipped from her head as she rested her cheek against the hard chest. She looked up, laughing when she realized that she still had the bandana pulled up over the lower half of her face.

  Her laughter was choked off as she met Jared’s eyes over the top of his scarf. They impaled her with the intensity of their gaze. The brows were dark and the lashes were tipped with gold. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes were white where his squinting had kept them from tanning like the rest of his face. The brown irises were flecked with gold. Sherry or amber or topaz.

  Slowly he reached out and took the bottom of her bandana in his fingers and lowered it. It was a caress. He stroked her lips with his thumb. Only then did he lower his gaze from her eyes to study her lips as his fingers traced their shape, savored their texture, marveled at their softness. They trembled beneath his touch. Leisurely he lowered his own bandana.

  She leaned into him as his arms drew her closer. Without conscious thought, her hands went to his waist, then around to meet at his back.

  His lips came to hers gently, softly. Barely touching them, he whispered, “Lauren.” Then his mouth closed over hers. His lips moved over hers expertly, persuasively. His tongue teased them until they were shyly parted and she met the tip of his tongue with her own. A low moan escaped Jared’s throat and his hand went to the small of her back to press her against him. Her fingers splayed over the muscles of his back. Losing all timidity, she opened her mouth to the hungry plea of his.

  “Now that is a touching sight,” Rudy said, laughing.

  Chapter 13

  Lauren and Jared jumped so violently at the sound of the amused voice that their movement startled their horses.

  “Having a nice time?” Rudy queried innocently. He had seen them riding toward the boulders and had followed them into the shelter.

  Jared snarled at him. “Lauren was cold and I remembered that I had a poncho in one of my saddlebags. I was getting it out for her.” He was infuriated with himself for explaining their kiss like a guilty schoolboy.

  “Yeah, you were warming her up all right. Looks like you were getting pretty hot yourself.” Rudy would have l
oved to continue taunting Jared, but Lauren was the greater sufferer. When he saw her distress, he softened. “We’d better get home. Gloria was worried when the Norther blew in and sent me out to check on you.”

  Jared had extracted an old, worn woolen poncho from his saddlebag and unceremoniously pulled it over Lauren’s head. Roughly plopping her hat back onto her head, he remounted Charger. She could tell by the way he sat rigidly on the stallion’s back as he rode away that he was angry. Probably with her.

  She and Rudy followed him at a distance. Her brother-in-law gave her a reassuring smile.

  Jared was seething. It didn’t matter to him that Rudy had seen him in a tender embrace. He wasn’t shy. He and some of his cronies had even shared whores, cheering each other on. What bothered him was that Rudy had witnessed his susceptibility to Lauren.

  She had lured him into kissing her. Those damn captivating eyes, full of tears produced by the cold wind, were hard for any man to resist. The raven tendrils whipping cheeks rosy from the exertion of their ride cried out to be caressed. That body which had tormented him all day with its nearness had been impossible to release once he held it against him.

  Above all, he resented her composure. She retained that superior coolness no matter what happened to them. She hadn’t panicked at the charcoal burners’ camp. She hadn’t been violently ill when he told her about the atrocities inflicted on Crazy Jack. Everyone at the ranch adored her. She fit right in.

  Damn her!

  * * *

  Dinnertime was subdued. Everyone ate almost silently. Gloria, Maria, and Rudy recognized one of Jared’s black moods and spoke to him with the care of one walking on thin ice. He growled his responses.

  Lauren was completely withdrawn. She spoke to no one except for an occasional please or thank you. Her head bowed, she stared into her lap as they sat in the living area after dinner. Her fingers would wander to her watch subconsciously and draw comfort from it as she always did in times of stress.

  Outside the wind howled, and the fireplace, cheerful though it was with the crackling fire in it, could not lighten the atmosphere of gloom.

  “We had visitors today, Jared,” Rudy said cautiously.

  “Who was that?” Jared appeared completely bored.

  “The Vandivers. Father and son.”

  “Goddammit,” he cursed. “What did they want?” Rudy had his undivided attention now.

  “They said they were over at the site of their new power plant and just stopped in to say hello.”

  “Like hell. The power plant will be fifteen miles from here.” Jared stood up and crossed to the fireplace. He stared into it for several seconds, then glanced smugly at Lauren. “It’s too bad we missed them. Lauren has developed quite an attraction to Kurt.” The words were deliberately provoking.

  She jerked up her head and met his challenging stare. She was the first to avert her gaze, humiliated and angry with herself for being such a coward and not rebuking him.

  There was an embarrassed silence in the room for long minutes. The pendulum clock ticked loudly and the logs in the fireplace shifted, showering Jared’s boots with sparks as he maintained his stance on the hearth.

  He tossed the remainder of his cigar into the flames and, taking down his shearling coat from the hall tree, muttered a sullen goodnight.

  “Jared, it’s cold out there. Why don’t you stay here in the house tonight?” Gloria was vexed that her scheme to throw these two stubborn people together for a whole day had not broken down any barriers between them. Instead, it seemed as though more had been raised.

  “If I could have my own room back, I would gladly stay. As it is, I don’t care to sleep there. If Lauren gets cold, I’m sure one of the vaqueros would be delighted to warm her bed.”

  Lauren bolted out of her chair and flew across the room so quickly that it surprised even her when she stood trembling directly in front of Jared.

  She raised her hand as if to strike him, but the arrogant tilt of his chin stopped her. He was daring her to show a bit of temper, and she would not give him the satisfaction. She clenched her fist, but lowered it to her side.

  “Why?” she asked insistently. “Why do you persist in tormenting me so? I don’t like this ‘arrangement’ any better than you do. But I don’t forget my manners.”

  She turned and marched into the hall leading to the bedrooms. Jared, in spite of his anger, admired the undaunted way she held her head.

  Lauren’s limbs felt heavy as she climbed onto the wide bed. She was tired from the long ride to Pecan Creek, and mentally fatigued as well. She was weary of trying to adjust herself to Jared’s moods, of warding off his verbal attacks. His inconsistency had her totally baffled. He was vindictive and abusive one minute, and tender the next.

  She wished she had resisted when he had kissed her. What had she been thinking? Nothing. That was the problem. When his arms went around her, warming her, she had ceased to think. She had allowed her senses to take over, relinquished all control to them. He had been so gentle… almost loving.

  She buried her face in the pillow—his pillow—and groaned as she recalled the feel of his tongue against hers, the strong hands that had just begun caressing her back when Rudy interrupted them. What would have happened if they had not been seen?

  It was no use speculating, for she was still not positive where kisses led. Having been around Gloria and listening to her talk about her relationship with Rudy, Lauren had inferred that whatever it was, it was pleasant. She had fought that mysterious culmination with William. She couldn’t quite imagine it being enjoyable.

  But if it had been Jared’s hands on her back pulling away her clothing, how would she have reacted? She blushed in the darkness. She was restless and physically unsatisfied and her body was transmitting strange, unrelenting impulses to her brain.

  * * *

  Rudy and Jared would leave each morning after breakfast, and return just in time to wash before dinner. The mood in the house cheered somewhat, though Jared and Lauren still treated each other with polite indifference. He asked her permission when he went into his room to retrieve one possession or another. Lauren felt guilty about using the room, but when she suggested that Gloria make a bed for her in one of the children’s rooms, the other woman adamantly refused. No argument could convince her, so Lauren dropped the subject.

  She continued to play with and read to the children, constantly delighted by them. With Maria, Lauren shared many quiet moments, listening to stories about Ben and about Jared and Rudy as boys. Maria carefully stayed away from the subject of Lauren’s marriage. The condition of that union grieved her.

  “Jared is so reticent about his early life,” Lauren admitted to the older woman one day. “He rarely speaks of his childhood, or schooling, or anything. He won’t tell me anything personal,” she sighed. “I mentioned Cuba to him once. He was reluctant to talk about it.”

  Marie shook her small, sleek head sadly. “I’m glad you weren’t here when he came home. Ben, I think, was secretly proud of him for joining the army. Olivia was furious and tried to keep Jared from going. She had friends of her family trying to pull strings, but when Ben found out about it, he stopped her. After the war, when the town made Jared a hero, she acted as if the whole idea had been hers.” Maria sipped the tea they were enjoying while sitting on the front porch. “She’s a very sad, lonely woman, you know,” she added quietly.

  “Did he catch malaria while he was there?”

  “Yes, but his main injury was psychological. He had a friend whose father owns a ranch west of Kerrville. Alex Craven and Jared had been friends since boyhood. They joined at the same time and were in the same battalion. Alex was killed. Jared felt his death was the result of an error in judgment by the company commander, that his friend was sacrificed for no reason. He still has nightmares about that day in battle. Alex’s death hurt him deeply, but Jared keeps everything inside. He reveals his true self to no one.”

  “I’m beginning to think he has no
‘true self.’ Whenever I think I’ve figured him out, I discover some new enigmatic facet of his character,” Lauren said. Who was this man she had married?

  “A very good man is there, Lauren. One day you will know him. I’m certain of that.” Maria patted Lauren’s hand as she stood up and went into the room she had shared with Ben, closing out the world by shutting her door.

  * * *

  “Oh, no! Look what I’ve done!” Lauren exclaimed. She was helping Gloria prepare the evening meal. Opening a can of tomatoes, she was about to empty it into a pot of stew when some of the contents splashed onto her sleeve, spreading a dark stain on the fine fabric of her shirtwaist.

  “Better go change quickly and let me put that in cold water to soak,” Gloria said unperturbedly.

  “I’ll be right back,” Lauren promised as she hurriedly left the kitchen and rushed into her room. No sooner had she unbuttoned all the buttons down her back and slipped off the blouse than she heard a commotion outside in the hallway. Before she could reach for something to cover herself, the door to the room was flung open and Jared was being pushed inside by Gloria and Rudy.

  Lauren forgot her state of deshabille when she saw her husband’s torn and blood-smeared shirt. She suppressed a gasp of horror. “What happened?” she asked on a high, anxious note.

  Jared was staring at her, too stunned by her appearance to speak. Or was he numbed by pain? It was left to Rudy to answer her. “Jared and I were restringing some fences that had come down. An ornery length of barbed wire backlashed and caught Jared across the chest. It needs to be seen to.”

  “I told you it’s all right,” Jared growled as he was shoved from behind into the room.

  “Nonsense,” said Gloria in the same tone she used to her children. “Get out of that shirt and I’ll get the medicine. Lauren, you’d better help him.”

  A conspiratorial smile was passed from husband to wife as Gloria rushed out to retrieve a bottle of antiseptic and cotton. Lauren shyly walked toward Jared’s back and settled her hands on his shoulders. She eased the shirt off his back as he unbuttoned it and painfully pulled it away from the skin on his chest. The drying, congealed blood made the fabric stick, and the wounds reopened and bled profusely.