by Janet Dailey
"I'll think about that." He nodded as if taking the matter under consideration.
"Jonni is a good girl. You be sure and treat her right, Gabe Stockman."
Jonni was fuming at his failure to correct her aunt's misconception. "Will you please explain to her?" she ordered through clenched teeth, her lips barely moving.
When Gabe glanced at her, there was a dangerous glint in his dark eyes, wicked and dancing. Her pulse fluttered. Again he bent closer to the old woman to speak loudly in her ear.
"You know what they say about breaking in a new horse a — cowboy has to ride it hard and long in the beginning if he wants it to be worth a damn later on."
Her mouth opened, but Jonni didn't know whether to rage at him in angry frustration or simply hit him. Maude drew her head back, looking properly shocked by his innuendo, but it was Jonni she turned on, shaking her finger.
"You'd better teach him some manners," she informed Jonni in no uncertain terms. "In my day, a man didn't speak of such things in female company." With that, Maude moved away from them, tottering on her cane.
Recovering from her initial speechlessness, Jonni glared at Gabe and demanded, "Why did you do that?"
"I thought you needed rescuing," he answered evenly. The glint in his eyes was still there, but for the most part it was veiled.
"What I needed was for you to explain to Maude that you and I aren't getting married," she retorted.
"She would have asked endless questions and it would have taken the better part of the day to straighten her out," Gabe reasoned.
"So you let her go on thinking we're engaged," Jonni reminded him. "That wasn't right."
"Someone else will explain it to her," he said, completely untroubled.
It was true, but Jonni wasn't about to stop berating him. "And how could you make such an off-color remark to her? That was unforgivable! She's a spinster. You know she's never been married."
"Who knows? She might have some of the best dreams she's had in months," Gabe drawled, openly mocking Jonni's indignant air. "Besides, a person can't live to be her age without learning all there is to know about life. She pretended to be shocked for your benefit."
"You're impossible!" Jonni declared in an angry breath.
"So I've been told," he smiled.
She saw Trevor approaching and hurried to meet him.
Chapter Six
AFTER SUNDAY DINNER Jonni went upstairs to her room and changed into her riding clothes. On her way down she met Trevor coming up. They paused midway on the staircase.
"I'm going out riding for an hour or so," she told him. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come along?" The question was asked more out of politeness than in the hope he might reconsider.
"No, thank you." Trevor made the anticipated refusal. "I'm going upstairs to change. Afterward I intend to become entrenched in the newspaper."
"Ah, the newspaper, a touch of civilization in this wilderness," Jonni teased him.
"Precisely, my love." He kissed her lightly on the mouth. "Enjoy yourself."
"I will."
Jonni continued down the steps, then walked at an unhurried pace out the door and down the path toward the barn. It was another clear, sunny day, the temperature pleasantly cool, a good day for riding.
The tack-room door stood open. Gabe was inside, removing the broken chin strap from a bridle.
He had changed out of his suit into a white shirt and a pair of mud-colored denims. He glanced up when Jonni entered then resumed his repair of the bridle.
"I'm going riding," Jonni announced. "Would you like to suggest a horse or should I take my choice?" She was curt, resentment still smoldering from the incident with her aunt at the church.
"A pleasure ride?" Gabe glanced up again see her affirmative nod. "Take Sancho, the zebra dun in the first stall. You can use the saddle and bridle there, on your left."
As Jonni reached for the bridle and saddle blanket, he added, "If your fiancé needs a gentle mount, you can saddle the claybank mare for him. She's as placid as they come."
"Trevor isn't going riding." She slipped her arm through the bridle's headstall to drape it on her shoulder.
"I forgot. He's a city dude. He probably doesn't know how to ride, does he?" Gabe pitched the broken chin strap into the trash barrel. His action seemed to indicate he thought Trevor deserved the same treatment.
"As a matter of fact, Trevor can ride very well. He just doesn't like horses, nor does he enjoy riding them. So it isn't likely it would be something he'd do for pleasure."
As she issued the information, Jonni was tautly aware of his eyes on her, following her every movement.
"When does he ride, then?" he challenged in skepticism.
"One of his investors from Virginia does a lot of fox hunting. I know Trevor has ridden with him on several occasions."
She gathered up the blanket and saddle pad. She felt on edge and blamed it on Gabe's inquisition, which seemed an attempt to find fault with Trevor.
"In other words, he goes riding when there's money involved, but not for the pleasure of being with you." Gabe succeeded in coming up with a conclusion that made Trevor look bad.
"I wouldn't want him doing it just for me," Jonni retorted.
There was a pause and Jonni thought she had finally silenced him. But she hadn't. "You're a morning person. Trevor prefers the night. You like riding horses. He doesn't. Do the two of you have anything in common?" Gabe taunted.
Gripping the handhold behind the saddle horn, she lifted the saddle to the back of her shoulder. "Yes," she snapped out the answer. "We happen to love each other."
While she still had the last word, Jonni stalked out of the tack room. The dun gelding turned its head to look at her as she entered its stall. She slapped its flank to move it over. With an economy of motion, she set the saddle and blankets down and walked to its head to slip the bridle on over the horse's halter.
Although Jonni half expected it, Gabe didn't follow her out of the tack room to pursue the conversation. Once the horse was saddled, she led it out of the stall and out the side door. Looping the reins around its neck, she stepped into a stirrup and swung into the saddle. With a turn of the reins she pointed the zebra dun toward open land and touched her heels to its belly. Its first stride carried it into a canter.
Jonni's tension eased as she widened the distance to the barn. A mile from the headquarters of the ranch, she stroked the tan gray neck and slowed the gelding to a reaching trot. Tossing its black mane, the horse emitted a rolling snort. It was a contented, relaxed sound, which Jonni echoed with a sigh.
The land she rode through was wild and untamed. Its rocky, uneven terrain defied the rancher's attempts to subdue it, tolerating only the tenacious grasses, which drove hardy roots into the soil. The horizon was marked by jutting mesas and towering buttes. Their shapes had been created by wind and erosion carving into the red-stained sandstone and shale.
It was with regret that Jonni turned her mount toward the ranch before her hour was up. She would have ridden longer and farther if Trevor hadn't been waiting at the house for her to return. But there would be other days during the next two weeks when she could ride and Trevor would be in New York. There would be plenty of time to indulge in the luxury of riding without being confined by the boundaries of riding paths in a city park.
Jonni reached the corral gate, opened it, rode through and maneuvered the dun horse into position so she could close it. One horse was loose inside the enclosure, a bay gelding. Gabe was standing beside it, cradling its front hoof in his hand. Although her antagonism had faded on the ride, Jonni tried to ignore his presence.
"Did you have a good ride?" His conversational tone kept her from succeeding.
"Yes, I enjoyed it." It was impossible to keep the genuine sincerity out of her voice. She felt refreshed and glowing, and looked it. Gabe patted the bay's shoulder and walked away from it. The gelding limped heavily toward the barn. "He's lame. What happened?"
"H
e fell on the ice this winter and lacerated tendon in his front knee." Gabe didn't look back at the horse as he walked to where Jonni had halted her mount. "It healed stiffly. Looks like he'll always have a game leg."
A permanently crippled horse on a working ranch, and a gelding at that — Jonni knew that spelled bad news. "Will he have to be destroyed?"
"The verdict isn't in yet. He's one of the cow horses we have on the place. We probably won't decide anything for sure until the fall. It isn't that easy to replace a horse like Joker," Gabe told her.
"No, I know it isn't," she agreed quietly. A horse could make a cowboy's job easier or harder. And a really good horse could almost work by itself.
Gabe stopped beside her horse and combed a wayward chunk of black mane onto the proper side of the horse's neck. In doing so, his gaze strayed beyond Jonni in the direction of the house. His look became dry and dusty.
"Speaking of jokers, there's your lover boy on the porch."
"Gabe, will you stop calling him that?" Jonni sighed impatiently and turned in her saddle wave. Trevor wore charcoal gray slacks and an oyster-white sweater. It was a heavily ribbed knit, very rugged and manly. Trevor raised an acknowledging hand in response.
Standing in the stirrups, Jonni cupped her hands to her mouth to call, "I'll be up shortly." Nodding that he'd heard her, Trevor went back into the house.
"Have you ever seen him when he had a speck of dirt on him?" Gabe mused aloud, not really expecting an answer. "I can't help wondering if he sweats."
"You're just jealous," Jonni accused, but she was uncomfortably aware that she found a trace of humor in the question.
"Maybe I am." There was something remote about the good-natured smile he gave her. Swinging a foot out of the off stirrup, Jonni started to dismount, but Gabe's large hands slid under tan vest to span her slender waist and set her on the ground in front of him. His hands retained a light hold on her waist.
"I expected you to go racing to the house to fall in Trevor's arms, after being separated from him for more than an hour."
He was teasing her — in an old, familiar way that Jonni didn't find offensive. She was conscious of his hands on her waist. She could feel the outline of each finger through the material of her blouse as if he was touching her bare skin. His touch was warm and oddly stimulating. Her forearms were resting on his, her hands feeling the muscled flesh beneath his sleeves.
She laughed, trying to ignore how closely she stood to him. "I wouldn't throw myself in Trevor's arms," she denied. "Not when I'm smelling like a horse." Raising a hand, she sniffed at it and wrinkled her nose in distaste, laughing softly.
Gabe captured the same hand by the wrist and carried it so close to his face that Jonni could feel the tickling brush of his mustache against her fingers. Her breathing became shallow as she lifted her gaze to meet the growing darkness of his.
"You smell good to me," he said quietly. "Earthy and fresh like the land after a spring rain."
Jonni didn't draw her hand out of his grasp. She knew she should have. Her heartbeat began to quicken as his gaze slid to her mouth. He was going to kiss her, and she realized that she wanted him to. The pressure on her waist increased to draw her forward, but she was drifting that way, swept along by a powerful undercurrent she was powerless to resist.
There was no haste to achieve the union of their lips as their bodies slowly fitted together perfectly. His breath caressed her skin and Jonni inhaled the heady male aroma that belonged distinctly to him. When the kiss came, it was gentle and deep. It evoked a response from her that was more ravishing and seductive than hard passion. It was a bright, burning flame that curled all the way down to her toes.
His mouth moved over hers as though he worshipped the shape and taste of it. His hand encircled her throat to caress the sensitive skin of her neck and finally he curved his fingers into her hair as his kiss became hungry in its adoration. Her parted lips were giving him every invitation to satisfy his appetite. The world seemed to be dissolving into a mist from the heat created by their two fusing bodies.
The caress of his hand at the base of her spine was sensually erotic, pressing her hips to the unyielding hardness of him. Jonni needed no encouragement to arch closer to the sexual radiance of his embrace. His caress blinded her to all but the sign language of desire, interpreting it to a degree she had never known before. His touch opened her heart to a piercing beauty that left Jonni shaken with alarm. She was trembling from it when his mouth trailed langorously to her temple. The black velvet hair above his lips tangled with her windswept curls.
During the kiss she had fitted herself to him like a skintight glove. Now the first chilling winds of reality began to steal in. Lowering her head, Jonni stared at the buttons on his shirt and the shadow of chest hair beneath the white material. Her arms uncurled from around his neck to wedge a small space between their bodies. She suddenly realized why the perfection of their embrace had been wrong. The problem could be summed up in one word — Trevor.
When she lifted her wary and bewildered gaze to his face, his dark eyes were waiting to meet it. They studied her expression intently, while his features betrayed nothing of his inner thoughts.
"Well?" Gabe prompted. He was aware of her emotional withdrawal, but was making no effort to reverse it.
"You'd better not do this anymore." It wasn't a warning, a statement or a plea, but a combination of all three.
There was a complacent twist to his mouth as he said, "You'd better not let me." The low drawl held the faintest hint of mockery. In the next second he let her go and turned to gather the trailing reins. "I'll take care of your horse for you."
Heat scorched her cheeks as Jonni watched him lead the dun gelding to the barn. She hadn't offered a word in her own defense because she knew Gabe was right. There had been no coercion in the embrace. She had been willing and eager for the kiss, a ready participant. And it had been enormously satisfying.
Now she had to go to the house, where Trevor waited. The prospect didn't do much for her peace of mind. Try as she might, Jonni couldn't shrug off the kiss as innocent experimentation. In the first place Gabe wasn't the kind to experiment, and secondly, she was as guilty as he was for letting it happen.
Her homecoming was turning out to be nothing like she expected. In fact, her whole world seemed to be turning upside down. Jonni wasn't sure, yet, how she was going to put it right — the way it was before.
SHE HAD INTENDED to tell Trevor what had happened, to free her soul of the weight of guilt. When the opportunity presented itself she had a severe case of cold feet. She rationalized her silence with the consolation that it had been a last fling. Bachelors did it all the time before that fateful wedding day. And, since she didn't expect Trevor to tell her all about his past affairs, there was no reason to speak to him of the indiscretions that happened before their marriage.
It all sounded very modern and independent, but her thoughts kept turning over and over to those few minutes in Gabe's arms. Each time she relived them she became more and more uneasy about them in her mind.
Her disturbed condition was intensified with each bounce of the pickup that rubbed her shoulder against Gabe's. The searing contact with his hard muscles was a physical reminder she didn't need. On a fairly smooth stretch of track, Jonni shifted to move closer to Trevor.
Ten minutes earlier the chartered aircraft had buzzed the house before entering the pattern to land at the ranch airfield. Trevor had finished his goodbyes to her parents. Gabe had already loaded the suitcases in the rear of the truck.
Against her better judgment, Jonni had ridden to the airstrip with them to say her final goodbye to Trevor.
The close confines of the truck's interior and the overwhelming force of Gabe's presence, as well as the freshness of memory, had kept her silent for much of the ride. Trevor noticed it, but he blamed it on his imminent departure. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair.
"I'll call you every night," he assured her
. "Early, I promise, so I won't keep you or your parents up."
"Good. I'll look forward to your phone calls." Jonni couldn't respond to his caress, not with Gabe sitting there. Her gaze strayed to Gabe's mustached profile. He was staring resolutely ahead, seemingly oblivious to both of them.
"I'm glad you're spending these two weeks here with your parents." Trevor smiled against her hair. "There won't be anything else for you to do but miss me!"
The truck spurted over the last hump, giving Jonni the impression that Gabe had stepped on the gas. But only the two of them were aware of what the potential for entertainment was. Trevor was blinded by ignorance.
"And to start making plans for our wedding." Jonni didn't know why she added that. It had been meant for Gabe but just why she was determined to remind him of her engaged state, she couldn't say. For someone who claimed to be unavailable, she had certainly acted available to him.
The chartered plane had taxied to the metal shed and it sat waiting, its motors still running. From here Trevor would fly to Kansas City to make his connections on a commercial airline to New York. Gabe stopped the truck on the clear side of the wing. He stayed in the driver's seat while Trevor climbed out and reached back to help Jonni.
The roar of the plane's engines made conversation impossible. Turbulent currents generated by the propellers tumbled Jonni's ash blond hair around her head as Jonni walked with Trevor to the rear of the truck for his luggage. Balancing the smaller case under one arm and carrying the other in the same hand, Trevor cupped the back of her head in his free hand and pulled her forward. He kissed her long and deep with sensual expertise. Striding toward the open door of the plane, he waved to her Jonni saw his mouth form the word goodbye but she couldn't hear his voice above the noise of the engines.
Shortly after the door closed, the plane began taxiing toward the end of the grass runway. Jonni watched it from her position near the rear of the truck. With one hand, she tried to keep her hair from blowing in her face as the spinning wind from the propellers kicked up red dust.
