by Jane Archer
Suddenly soft, measured footsteps sounded in the room, but before the Mexican could react, Jake said in a low, controlled voice, "I wouldn't move, Pecos, if I were you."
The man over Alexandra tensed, his mouth tightening, but not a muscle moved. He knew how close to death he was as he looked up into Jake's cold blue eyes and the dark muzzle of the drawn forty-five.
"That's my woman you're straddling. Finish only if you don't want to walk out of here alive."
Alexandra had never before heard such deadly calm in anyone's voice. She didn't move either, afraid he'd shoot her, too, if given half a chance. She could see the difference in the man over her. He wasn't quite so sure anymore, even though she could feel the anger seething in him.
"I've no desire to be a dead man, gringo. I only do what is right."
"Hell if you do. Now, very slowly, very easy, throw your gun over here, and don't get smart."
Alexandra lay there, watching the man almost in disbelief. Could this really be happening? Did men really go about solving their differences with guns? Where was the law? But the man slowly, carefully removed the gun barely touching it, then flung it toward Jake's feet.
"Good. That's good, Pecos. Now carefully, remember I'd just as soon shoot you as look at you, the knife. The one you wear in your right boot."
The Mexican scowled, but began to move his free hand down toward his boot. Could the man really be armed with a knife as well as a gun? Alexandra could hardly believe the savagery of this land. But soon the silver blade gleamed for a moment over Alexandra's face before it was thrown beside the gun.
"That's right. I may yet let you live, Pecos. Slowly, very slowly, get up. Be careful not to touch my woman any more. I don't like my woman touched by another."
"Neither do I," the Mexican muttered as he slowly raised himself from Alexandra.
"Don't move, Alex, until I tell you to," Jake commanded. He knew the Mexican was a dangerous and clever hombre. He didn't want him grabbing Alexandra in defense. It could lead to her death.
"For your information, Pecos, Rosa came here wanting work and wanting to get in my bed. I merely obliged."
"Sure, gringo, and you're calling her a—"
"I'm calling her nothing. I'm telling you the facts. She's gone back to her family. Let that end it. It's finished here. As you can see, I've got another woman. Rosa's yours. Leave it at that."
"It may be easy for you to forget, hombre, but I am a man and she is my intended."
"Get out, Pecos, and don't let me see your face or the faces of your amigos on the Bar J again. I want an end to all this. Rosa is nothing to me. She's yours. If I kill you, you won't be able to enjoy all her little delights."
The Mexican flushed darkly, barely holding his temper in check as he walked slowly from the room, feeling Jake's gun pointed at him still. At the door, he turned back, glanced at Alexandra, then back to Jake.
"It's not over, gringo. You've dishonored Rosa. We don't forget that. You'll be hearing from us."
Then he was gone, slipping away as quickly as he'd come.
Jake hurried to the door and watched him ride away while Alexandra cautiously got up from the floor and draped an Indian blanket carefully around herself. When the sounds of the retreating horse died away, Jake holstered his gun, and walked slowly back to Alexandra, his blue eyes hard. He stopped in front of her, then jerked the blanket from around her shoulders and tossed it aside. She still wore only the chemise and was marked with dirt and grime from her afternoon cleaning, but she lifted her chin in defiance.
"That's all you were wearing, Alex?" Jake asked.
"It was hot, Jake. I was cleaning," Alexandra said, her anger growing now that the danger was past. "You said I'd be alone. That man was going to rape me!"
Jake laughed shortly, a harsh sound. "Once a whore, always a whore. You may be able to live without clothes in a brothel, but my dear, in my home, you will clothe yourself properly."
Alexandra exclaimed. "Well, this was appropriate for cleaning. I could hardly wear satins and silks, now could I? You seem to have forgotten that I didn't expect to take the place of Rosa, that Mexican bitch. I'm no whore—"
Jake slapped her, the crack sounding like a shot in the room as his pent up fury finally broke. "Rosa was no bitch. You're the only damn bitch around here, Alex, and you're trouble, nothing but trouble."
She tried to rake his face with her nails, fury pounding in her brain, making everything red and hot. She wanted to hurt him as he'd hurt her, as he was always hurting her. But Jake was swift and grabbed her wrists, twisting her arms behind her, forcing her body against his so that her breasts strained against his chest.
"You'll do as I say, Alexandra. You belong to me," he said gruffly, feeling himself responding to the soft body quivering against him.
"No! I'll never belong to you, you animal!" Alexandra cried, kicking out at him.
Cursing, Jake lifted her up into his arms and strode out of the room. Carrying her into his bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind them, then crossed the room to the bed.
Throwing Alexandra down on it, he said, "You're mine and you know it, Alex. I'll prove it once again since you seem to have such a short memory."
"No! No, Jake," Alexandra cried, struggling as his powerful hands reached out and tore the chemise from her body.
Quickly joining her on the bed, he pulled her legs apart, then pushed his knees up between her thighs. His own anger with Pecos lent fury to his actions and he undid his pants with no thought to Alexandra's own feelings.
Seeing his bulging manhood so ready to take her, Alexandra cried out again, "No! Not like this, Jake."
She struggled, fighting him, but he quickly wrenched her arms behind her back, then grabbed her hips in his hands to pull her toward him, her softness completely exposed to his desires.
Could he never feel that Alexandra was really his? The only time she seemed to respond to him was in bed, when he had pushed her beyond all control. At no other time could he believe that she was completely his, that all the other men were blotted from her mind, her body. Even here in his own home, a man had come and would have taken her. And how much would she have protested?
Furiously he thrust into her, knowing he was hurting her for she was dry, unready, but he wanted it that way. He wanted to hurt her for all the other men, for his inability to conquer her, and so he drove deeper, hearing her cry out in anguish. Then he forgot his reasons, his motives as his flaming desires took over. Blood pounded in his head. He couldn't think. He could only focus on the point of fiery hunger that he drove over and over into her, determined to blot out the others once and for all.
Then he could feel the difference in Alexandra. She wasn't fighting him anymore, but instead was holding him to her in the same urgency that he field her and she was soft and moist inside, letting him slide easily in and out. He covered her lips with his own, plunging his tongue into her mouth as his staff plunged into her softness. She was his! She belonged to him. She wanted him, too. He knew, he could feel her surrender, her acceptance of him. He moved harder, faster, bringing them both to the peak that blotted out reality, leaving only a clear, clean union of their two bodies.
And as he withdrew from her, she moaned, clinging to him, and all his memories suddenly returned. Cursing her as well as himself for his need of her body, he jerked away, sitting up quickly. He had to catch his breath, but he didn't look at Alexandra again until he got up, fastening his pants, for he knew if he saw her soft, yielding body, he wouldn't leave. No matter how he intended to hurt her, it was he that seemed to die a little each time he buried himself deep within her. What was happening to him? He'd never been this hungry for a woman before.
"Get up, Alex, and get dressed. It's time for dinner. I'd like to see how well you cook. Somehow, I imagine that the kitchen is not as familiar to you as the bedroom."
He chuckled at the fury in her face, then quickly left the room before she had time to answer him.
Alexandra flou
nced off the bed. She'd show him. She'd just learn to cook. It couldn't be too hard. Lots of women did it. So she'd just learn and prove him wrong. Of course, if her body wouldn't turn traitor in his arms, he'd think her less the whore. But when he touched her, she was lost!
Sighing, she walked over to the dresser. Fortunately, she'd brought a clean pail of water into the room earlier, for now she'd never get the desired bath. After quickly washing herself all over, Alexandra began hunting through her bags for something to wear, but nothing was at all appropriate. She finally decided on the coolest looking gown—a low cut, soft green silk with a matching chemise. She slipped these on, hardly aware of how they emphasized her beauty. She put her hair up loosely and decided she was ready. It was the best she could do.
She went into the kitchen. She didn't know what to serve with the beans since she didn't have the right ingredients to make cornbread, the one bread she knew how to make since Ebba had taught her. She knew how to make coffee and after starting that, she decided to serve some dried beef she found.
While the coffee was brewing, she went out into the main room and began setting the table. As she worked, Lamar walked into the room, dressed in dark pants and a loose blue shirt. He looked much more the Southern gentleman now, except for his weathered face and hands.
"Good evening, Alexandra," he said, coming toward her, a smile of pleasure transforming his face.
"Hello, Lamar," she said hesitantly.
He stood there, continuing to smile at her, unable to keep his eyes from her perfect body so tantalizingly revealed by the gown. No wonder Jake was so wild about her—she was indeed a rare beauty. Her cheeks were flushed and he could see the difference in her eyes. They were languid looking and her movements were slow, almost dreamy. Jake had taken her again. He shook his head, thinking that the young woman would hardly survive if he continued to attack her constantly. But she didn't seem to be so unhappy now. How did she really feel about Jake? He couldn't tell, but he could read the signs of fulfilled sex in her lovely face. But then, women had never accused Jake of lacking virility.
"I don't know about dinner," Alexandra said, interrupting Lamar's thoughts.
"What, my dear?"
"Dinner. Jake told me to cook it, but I can't find enough of anything. Anyway, I've never cooked much, but Jake insisted so—"
"I'm sure it'll be fine, Alexandra. We're used to almost anything out here. We had a Mexican girl working in the kitchen, but she left a month or so ago—about the time Jake came back from New Orleans, I think," he said, then realized the implications. Jake had been sleeping with the Mexican girl, but when he returned, he was so mean he finally drove her off. The place had been a mess ever since and they hadn't had the time or inclination to do anything about it.
"You mean Rosa?"
Lamar nodded uneasily.
"I suppose Jake told you about that Mexican, Pecos, coming by."
"Yes, he did."
"Well, it wasn't my fault," she said defensively.
"Of course not, Alexandra. There has been bad blood between our cowboys and Pecos' banditos before—they can't seem to resist our cattle—or our women now. But don't let it worry you, Alexandra. We can handle Pecos and his hombres."
"All right, Lamar. I won't."
"Good. Jake will be here in a minute. You can go ahead and serve if you like. He was just rinsing off when I left him outside."
"Fine," Alexandra said, then went back to the kitchen. She put the beans in a big bowl, then carried them in to the table. She put the dried beef out, too, and mugs of coffee. Just as she was finishing, Jake strode into the room.
He looked Alexandra up and down, then grinned, saying, "Wouldn't that gown be more appropriate in the parlor of a house in New Orleans? But then, you came prepared to entertain, not work, didn't you?"
Alexandra flushed darkly.
"If that's the best you have to wear around here, we'd better find you something more appropriate."
Alexandra turned her back on Jake, determined not to let him anger her again.
"Eat the beans, Jake," Lamar said. "Arguments will ruin our digestion."
The beans were passed and both men looked questioningly at Alexandra as they took their first mouthful. Immediately their eyes met and they grimaced. Alexandra could hear strange crunching sounds as they chewed. She looked at them, puzzled.
Then suddenly, they both jumped up and ran outside. In just a little while they both returned, laughing heartily. She looked from one to the other, even more puzzled. What had happened?
Lamar spoke first, after taking a big swig of coffee and swishing it around in his mouth. "Uh, did you wash the beans, Alexandra? Did you remove the rocks and bits of dirt?"
She looked at him in surprise. "No. Jake told me to put them into water and boil them for a long time so that's what I did."
"Well, I never dreamed you'd be idiot enough not to wash them, Alex. Don't you have any sense?" Jake asked hotly, then began laughing again. Lamar joined in his laughter.
It was all too much! Alexandra looked at both men, growing angrier by the second, then stood up. Her eyes were a brilliant green as she glared at Jake. "I don't know anything about cooking and you know it. I'll learn, but I can't without a teacher. Now, if you want a decent meal, you'd better get someone who knows how to cook. I, I—" her voice broke, but she steadied it again, "I don't know how and you know it. I'm going to bed. You can do what you want with this mess," she finished, and started out.
"Alexandra," Jake said, his cold, deadly voice stopping her.
She hesitated, then turned back. His eyes were hard blue stones in his darkly tanned face. She glared at him, her anger boiling inside. She'd seen him like this with the Mexican today. He would be absolutely ruthless.
"What?" she asked stonily.
"Throw the beans out. Wash some more, then put them on to cook. We'll need something to eat tomorrow. We'll chew on the beef tonight. And Alex, put some salt and dried beef in with the beans."
"Oh, Jake, I'm tired. I don't care about food. I just want to be left alone," Alexandra said unhappily, knowing even as she spoke that she couldn't disobey him—he'd force her to do what he wanted. He was so much stronger. How she hated his strength!
"Do what I say, Alex," he said, his voice hard and cold.
Not looking at either of the men, she tiredly began picking up the bowls, trying to keep her lovely gown clean. She made several trips back and forth to the kitchen, clearing the table as the men left to sit in the big chairs and drink whiskey. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair that he should make her work so hard, Alexandra thought as she began washing the beans, careful to clean them thoroughly. But she would learn to cook!
In the next room, Lamar tried to understand what was happening with Jake, but he could not get far.
"Don't you think you were a little rough on her, Jake?"
"Stay out of it, Lamar. Alex is my affair."
"Maybe, but—"
"I don't want to discuss it. When do you think we'll have a big enough herd to leave?"
"Well, I'm thinking in about three weeks, or under. We should have about two thousand head by then. We can't handle much more than that and it'll be a long drive, the longest ever."
"Yes, and this McCoy in Abilene had better be on the level. Said a cordial welcome awaited all trail herds at a place in Kansas called Abilene and his agent had better have meant it," Jake said menacingly.
"He's on the level, Jake. After all, he's the man who got the Kansas Pacific railroad to extend its line further west to that place called Abilene. And if we can get our herd up the Chisholm Trail, we'll have a good market for our cattle this year, as well as in the years to come."
"We've got to make it, Lamar. These longhorns are as thick as grass and ours for the taking. We could sell them in San Antonio for three dollars a head, but why not make the drive to Abilene and get forty?"
"No reason at all. The time's right. The North needs beef. And if the Chisholm Trail works out, t
hen we've got it made. We'll have the money to make this a damned fine ranch."
"We've got the best cowboys around— experienced, sure, ready to go. Our remuda of mustangs could be better, but they'll just have to learn on the drive."
"You figure ten to fifteen miles a day for the herd. If we can leave by the first part of June, we should be there by September."
"No reason we can't leave by then. I'll sure be ready."
"What are you going to do about the girl, Jake? She can't make the drive with us. She'd never survive and you don't know what we'll run into— Indians, rustlers, who knows what else."
"Leave that to me, Lamar. I'll see to her when the time comes," Jake said irritably, then got up. "I'm going to bed. It's been a long day."
"Jake?"
"Yes."
"About Pecos. You think he'll cause any more trouble?"
"He'd better not, the fool."
"Nevertheless, I'd watch Alexandra a little more closely."
"Could be you're right," Jake said, nodded at Lamar, then walked back toward the kitchen.
His thoughts were all for her now. She was the only thing that could make him forget the ranch— and the all-important cattle drive. He looked into the kitchen and his face softened. She was sitting on a low stool, her head in her lap, asleep, in front of the beans. She was still wearing the ridiculous gown. Jake stoked down the fire and put more water on the beans. He lifted Alexandra up into his arms and she didn't awaken. She was so small and light that momentarily he wished he hadn't been so hard on her. She wasn't used to this type of life, didn't even want it, but he hardened his heart against her, remembering what she was.
He carried her into his room, shutting the door behind them quietly, then placed her gently down on the bed. He undid her clothes, thinking that he'd have to get her something else to wear, and as he removed them, she groaned, waking slightly, and smiled softly, then curled into a ball as he tucked her under the covers. He hastily shucked his own clothes and got in beside her, pulling her small, warm body close to him. He felt the familiar tightening in his loins, but didn't try to awaken Alexandra. He simply curled his body up to hers, smelling her sweet scent as slumber quickly overtook him.
