“Did your grandmother disapprove?”
“You bet. Apparently they had a big row, and she forbid Papa ever to bring what she called ‘a savage’ into her home. So he didn’t. He went back to Georgia and married Mama. They farmed near her folks until those men killed Mama and Papa.”
“Did they never visit?”
He opened their door and locked it behind them. “Twice we came and stayed with Uncle Austin and Aunt Kathryn. Grandpa came every day to visit, but Gran wouldn’t. Papa wouldn’t go see her unless he could bring Mama and me and know we’d be welcome, and it never happened.”
“How sad. She cheated herself o’ her own son when she shut out his wife.”
“Yes.” And shut out her grandson, who still couldn’t understand how a grandmother could be so cold.
“Austin and Kathryn came to visit us for several months when I was very young so Kathryn could study with Mama. Maybe I told you Kathryn also studied with some local curandarias—that’s Mexican for folk healer—and a Comanche medicine man. She reads medical books, too, and helps a lot of people.”
He guided Cenora to the window. Brilliant moonlight illuminated the ranch. The breeze carried the scent of the honeysuckle’s first blooms of spring. Campfires of the traveling folk had burned low, but a few lanterns showed. Lights were out in the bunkhouse, for the cowboys’ day started early.
He stood with his arm around her, and she slid hers around his waist. The few similarities between their situation and his parents’ meeting hadn’t occurred to him before she pointed it out. He and Papa had both been traveling, both injured and unconscious, and—even though Mama had far more healing skill—she and Cenora had both acted as nurse.
His parents had shared a strong love and a happy marriage in spite of Gran’s carrying on. Mama and Papa had been as different as he and Cenora. Would he and Cenora ever fall in love as his parents had?
Chapter 10
“God almighty, Vourneen, you’ve got me hot as fire.” Mac pressed himself against her, and she braced herself against the trunk of a large tree. “No one can see us here. Let me touch you.”
He took her silence as agreement and slid his hand under her skirt, tugging her drawers aside to find the slit. She’d never let him touch her below her waist before, and he wondered if he dared open his britches’ buttons.
She pushed her blouse down to give him access to her breasts. He suckled, and she played with her other hardened nipple, pushing it against his cheek. When his fingers touched her mound of curls, she moaned, and he pushed his finger into her.
She clutched at his shoulders. “That’s good. Yes, yes, do it more.” She panted and pushed into him. “Harder. Oh, oh.”
Her breathing quickened, and her hips moved in cadence with his finger. He wondered no one heard the pounding of his heart and came to investigate. Her movements intensified until her body racked with shudders. She sagged against the tree trunk.
“Mac, it was grand.” She pulled the blouse up and secured the ties.
He captured her hand. “Do the same for me?” He pressed her hand against his rigid arousal. Even through the fabric her touch near sent him over the edge. He pulled the waistband out and thrust her hand inside.
“Feels funny, your willie does.”
“Grip me and slide your hand up and down.” He claimed her mouth and moved her hand, but she resisted.
“Ew, I don’t like that.”
“Bloody hell, you liked it when I did it for you.”
“Well, I don’t like it now.” She leaned to look around the tree. “I’d better go in, or Da will come looking for me. He doesn’t trust you.”
Mac cursed. “Wait right here then while I finish off.” He stepped behind a tree a few yards away and jacked himself until he spurted his relief, and then cleaned himself with his handkerchief. This woman would kill him yet with her teasing ways.
Mac walked Vourneen back to the McDonald wagon where her mother waited on the step.
Vourneen allowed him to kiss her goodnight as if it were their first, a chaste kiss on her cheek with her mother watching. Good thing her ma hadn’t seen them a few minutes earlier behind the tree.
“Vourneen, ‘tis time you were coming in.” Mrs. McDonald looked at the moon’s location high in the sky and gestured for her daughter to go inside the wagon.
Mac figured it must be close to midnight.
“Good night.” Vourneen wiggled her fingers in a wave and stepped inside.
A driving need for Vourneen had drawn Mac to the camp after Dallas’s kin left. Wasn’t he burning up for her touch? Damn, thinking of her kept his cock hard as an axle. What he wouldn’t give to bury himself inside her.
He figured most people—those buffers who rose early and worked themselves to an early grave—were asleep. That kind o’ life wasn’t for him. Here at the traveling folks’ camp, several men still played cards or shared a jug by the campfire. Wishing he and Vourneen were wed and a part of this life, Mac exhaled in frustration and walked back toward the ranch house and his own bed.
He’d not tell anyone, not even Finn, but he liked having a big room of his own. Lots of wasted space, of course, but he’d never had any privacy in his life. He enjoyed shutting the door and knowing no one would enter without knocking first. Didn’t he even have a lock and key?
Well, when he followed the traveling folk, he’d have a wagon all to himself, wouldn’t he, except for Vourneen? Damn right, and he’d be his own boss and answer to no man, not even Da. Vourneen would do his bidding then, and he’d have her whenever he wanted.
“Going back to that buffer’s big house now, are you?”
Mac jumped, stumbled, and almost fell. He hadn’t heard Tom approach. For a big man, he moved quietly when he had a mind to.
“Aye, I’ve me own room there with a bed big enough for two or three. Big enough for Vourneen to share if our parents saw reason.”
“Your da was after bragging about the place when he came to talk to his mates.” He spat on the ground. “We’ve heard nothing else but that grand house since some o’ the folk went to see it.”
Mac wouldn’t admit how fine it had felt to show off his new place, even though he planned to leave soon himself. But it had been a grand day, letting those who’d looked down on him see what a bit of luck he’d had at last. And Vourneen had thought him a rich champion.
“It pleasured me sister and Ma to have their friends for tea and a look about that day. Ma and Da liked having their mates for supper as well.”
“And ‘tis no surprise they didn’t include me, even though I’m the leader and their oversight insulted me.”
Mac could think of nothing to say.
Tom said, “So, you’ve thrown in with that one who stole your sister from me?”
“I’ve done no such of a thing. He makes me sick. ‘Tis work, work, work all the time. He’s up before the sun and still going past dark. I tell you, ‘tis enough to wear on a body’s nerves.”
“What’s he do that for when he’s got those four drovers working for him?”
A chill shot down Mac’s spine. He hadn’t seen Tom watching, but obviously he had been for only the top floor of the house was visible from the camp. “He’s two more out somewhere with the cattle and more with his sheep. He thinks he has to set the example, so he works harder than any o’ the others.”
“Don’t see why.” Tom scratched his belly. He wasn’t overly clean and likely had something sharing his clothes with him. “He better be good to Cenora, or I’ll kill him.”
“He is that. She has to help with the housework, though I can’t see she’s done much. One good thing, Dallas’s aunt doctored on Ma and said Ma would be fit in a year’s time. She feels better than she has in a long time.”
“So, your sister won’t have to care for her much longer?”
Mac wished he knew what to say to get Tom’s mind off Cenora. Da would know, but Mac didn’t have the gift of gab. “She takes lots o’ care now, but soon Ma will be
up and about a bit. O’ course, now Cenora waits on her hand and foot giving her medicines, teas, and tonics and what not. Takes most of Cenora’s time, it does.”
Tom picked up a rock and threw it hard. “If the buffer treated her right, he’d get someone to help her. Women ought to spend all their time taking care o’ the man, but I can’t bear to think o’ her and that one together. It makes me want to kill the bastard with me bare hands.”
The man’s rage simmered, barely under control. He frightened Mac, yet Tom knew how to take care of the group, didn’t he? Well, he was the leader, and he saw they had enough to eat out o’ the fund each family paid in to him, didn’t he?
“Seems to me he’s good to her. Let’s her do whatever she wants.”
Tom gripped his shoulder, and Mac thought he’d fall to his knees from the pressure. “Why is it you’re defending him? Have you turned against your friends?”
“N—No, you know I plan on joining the folks soon as Ma is doing better, and I can leave her. She’s not supposed to worry about anything, or I’d tell her now.”
“’Tis time we started teaching that bastard a few lessons. I’ll make him sorry he ever stole me woman. You do as I tell you, and I’ll see me sister lets you wed Vourneen before the next full moon.”
Vourneen his, this month? Just the thought set his blood pounding.
Wait. But what would he have to do? Tom’s way of talking made Mac nervous. “Wh—What are you thinking?”
“You watch for any opportunity to throw a wrench in the cogs is all, even if it’s just annoying the buffer. I’ll do the same. When I want to talk to you, I’ll tell Vourneen.”
“W—won’t you be moving the folks on soon?” Mac had meant it when he told his family he might stay with the traveling folk, but he wanted his family safe from Tom. Only a lot of miles would accomplish that.
“Aye, that we will. Folks are getting too soft and starting to complain about finding their own place, so I’m moving them out tomorrow. We’ll be close enough for a while, then we’ll be heading west, in spite o’ the fact O’Leary and some o’ the others wants to go north.” He pointed his thumb at his chest. “I’m the leader, and I’ll decide where we go, but we’ll not be far from this place until Cenora’s me wife, as is me right.”
Mac spoke before he thought. “She seems happy as she is.” Even in the moonlight, he saw the rage on Tom’s face, and Mac knew he’d said the wrong thing. He braced himself for Tom’s fist.
Tom growled, and his fists clenched, but he spared Mac. “I tell you again, she’ll be better off with me for her husband than that one. You’ll see. She’ll be shunned by the snooty buffers in town.”
Mac exhaled when Tom turned and stalked off into the night. This time he made no attempt to walk quietly. Mac continued his own journey to the ranch house.
He remembered how rude Dallas’s grandmother had been to everyone, even Dallas. But even if others reacted the same way, there were the other McClintocks. They’d been friendly. Oh, it all made him tired and caused a burning in his belly. He wished Tom would forget Cenora or that he ever knew any of the O’Neills.
What else could Mac do but help Tom, though? He had to have Vourneen. Besides, with or without his help, Tom had set his mind on mischief.
****
Dallas paused on the porch to stuff his feet into his boots and watched the first tinges of pink color low on the eastern horizon. A cock crowed to welcome morning. In the big cottonwood by the kitchen door, chattering jays welcomed the new day.
Damned if his life hadn’t taken a hell of a turn, sneaking out of his own house with a whole family asleep until who knew when? He strode into the bunkhouse. For more than a week now, he’d followed this routine, and it had started to get to him—breakfast in the bunkhouse with his hands while Cenora and her family slept late.
“Morning, boss. Coffee’s ready.” Fred turned sizzling ham slices in the skillet.
Dallas poured himself a cup of Fred’s strong brew, inhaled the steam, and took a chair in the corner.
Two Bits and Armando came in. Two Bits picked up a cup and poured his coffee. “Thank God, we finished milking and gathering the eggs before O’Neill came to direct us.” He turned and froze.
“Boss, he didn’t mean nothing.” Armando stepped forward, ready to defend his partner.
Dallas exhaled and held up a hand to stave off further protest. “Don’t think I’m blind to my father-in-law’s faults, boys. He needs his own job. Trouble is, I can’t think what he’s suited for.”
They all fell silent. Too bad no one needed a talker.
Fred slammed the food on the table, and they fell to helping themselves.
Two Bits mopped a bite of egg with his biscuit. “That Finn, now, he’s starting to catch on. I believe he’ll make a good hand.”
“Not the red-headed one.” Fred speared a piece of ham. “He’s either dumb as a rock or else he’s deliberately trying to ruin you.”
About to take a bite, Dallas paused. “How?”
“Left the sty gate open and the pigs got out yesterday.” Armando reached for a biscuit. “Took most of an hour to round them up.”
Two Bits nodded. “Last night someone opened the hen house door after dark, ‘cause I checked it myself last thing before we came in to bed down. If a wild animal had come up, we’d of been without eggs or chickens.”
Two Bits took a deep breath and met Dallas’s gaze. “There’s other things. Gates left open, doors ajar, feed spilled, tools left laying about to trip a person, a lighted lantern left near the hay.”
Armando nodded. “We ain’t perfect, but you know we’re careful, boss. I ain’t pointing fingers, but things like that never happened ‘til your in-laws came or those folks camped down by the river.”
“That aint’ all.” Fred looked at Two Bits, then back at Dallas. “Neighbors been talking about losing things. Chickens, sheep, Kirschner lost a pig, tools, and such.”
Dallas felt like hell. He’d been doing so well. His neighbors had finally started to respect him, to accept him. Now he’d never gain their trust. “Thanks, boys. I’ll take care of it.”
But could he?
Suddenly, he’d lost his appetite. He put his fork down on his half-emptied plate and pushed away from the table. “I’ll see you later, boys, after I talk to Xavier.”
Armando looked upset enough to bawl. “Boss, we haven’t told Xavier about this. We didn’t plan to tell you neither for fear of causing trouble between you and your nice Señora and her family. We thought we could head it off.”
Two Bits shook his head. “Guess that was wrongheaded of us. You need to hear it from us before other folks come to complain.”
“Yeah. Thanks, boys. I appreciate your loyalty.”
And he did, but he wanted to kill Mac. He figured it had to be him. Or, maybe Williams sneaked in at night. Yeah, that’d be like the bastard.
He walked over to his foreman’s bungalow just as Xavier stepped out his door.
“Come to the house with me. We have problems.”
Xavier fell into step with him. “Sí, this I know.”
“You do?” Dallas thought sure the boys said they hadn’t told Xavier.
“Sí, my Rosa, she is crazy from your new family. I don’t want to say anything, but she says I must speak to you or she goes to stay with her mamacita in Castroville.”
Dallas groaned. More problems? “Come on into the office, Xavier. We have more to discuss than you can imagine.”
Xavier sat in his usual place, looking embarrassed and ill at ease. Dallas took his chair, then leaned his elbows on the desk.
“Okay, you first.”
“Always Rosa loves working for you. You’re very neat she says, very orderly. Now, with all these people here she is cooking all the time. No one eats together. First your Señora comes down to eat, then she takes her mama food, then her papa comes in, then one brother, then the other. Five times Rosa has to stop and cook the same meal. Only you put your soiled clo
thing in the laundry basket, and she must search for the others, and there is a lot to do for so many people.”
Dallas’s head ached already, but Xavier continued.
“Always wherever she turns, someone is in her way. Your wife has a superstition for everything, and Rosa cannot keep them all straight. Don’t cross the knife and the fork, people don’t wash hands together in the pan, don’t go out one door if you came in a different one, and don’t stand the broom in the corner.” He wiped his forehead. “Oh, she tells me more, but I don’t remember. Rosa is upset and very tired all the time from this.”
Because he left early, came in for dinner and supper then went to bed, Dallas hadn’t paid attention to the running of his household. They had furniture now, and he always had food and clean clothes. Everything had seemed in order, except for the party every evening, which wore on Dallas’s nerves. Not that he minded the music, but he wished it were, well, once a week would be more than enough for him.
Should he talk to Rosa or to Cenora or both? Hell, he didn’t need this aggravation. He liked his life the way it had been before he acquired all these people. Why did he have to keep making changes? His anger grew, and he fought the urge to strike the desk. This was his ranch, damnit, and the O’Neills should be the ones changing. Not him.
Then he thought about the nights with Cenora. And he liked her smile, the sound of her voice, the way she walked. He’d miss her if she went away, wouldn’t he? Forcing himself to speak normally, he said, “Tell Rosa I’ll take care of it. But we have more threatening problems, and I need your advice.”
Dallas detailed the things he’d learned in the bunkhouse. Though he hated talking about personal problems, he related the threat Tom Williams posed to him and to his in-laws.
He ended with, “All the money from the wool went to the bank. You know I’m stretched pretty thin here until we sell the cattle this fall. Otherwise, I’d hire a couple more hands to stand guard at night.” He paused. “I reckon the time has come to find a couple of big dogs. You think that would help?”
Xavier stroked his mustache then nodded. “Sí, I think we need dogs. We will introduce them to your family and the hands. Anyone else who comes near will set off their barking. We need to make a threat to this prowler.”
9 Ways to Fall in Love Page 16
