“Very nice. The pot even matches the curtains,” she said.
A few days ago, she’d replaced the faded fabric at the window with those woven of blue buffalo checks. The curtains had been one of many small improvements around the place and she was still asking herself why she was making them. For herself? Or for the aunt she’d never known?
“Sometimes a man gets lucky,” he said, slanting her a wry grin.
Her heart, which was already thumping in a rhythm that was way too fast, somehow sped up even more. Clasping her hands together, she cleared her throat. “W-would you like something to drink before we go?”
Moving away from the window, he walked over to where she stood by the small dinette table. “No, thanks. We don’t have a whole lot of daylight hours left and I don’t want to waste them.” His brown gaze slipped down the length of her tan-and-white-striped dress and the sandals strapped on her feet. “Are you ready?”
His inspection of her appearance made her hesitate. “Am I dressed appropriately for this tour? If you’d like I can change into jeans and boots.”
His gaze settled back on her face and in spite of her weak-willed efforts, Rebecca focused directly on his mouth with its square, chiseled corners and the faint sheen to the curve of his lower lip. Since that kiss they’d shared on the porch, she’d thought of those lips, dreamed about them, hungered for them. And tried her best to forget them. All to no avail.
“I’m not going to put you to work in the branding pen,” he said with an amused grunt, then added huskily, “I like you just as you are.”
She drew in a deep breath and said, “I’ll go get my purse and wrap and we can be on our way.”
For a moment there was something in his eyes that made her think he was going to reach out and touch her, but if he was harboring those intentions, something must have waylaid them. Like common sense, Rebecca thought. Because she had the feeling if he touched her now, they’d never make it off the place.
“I’ll wait on the porch,” he told her, then quickly turned and left the room.
Minutes later, they were headed northward through mountainous countryside that Rebecca had never seen before. Traffic was light to nonexistent on the narrow highway and before long they were far away from any sort of settlement or civilization.
As Jake focused on his driving, Rebecca decided to speak the thoughts that had been racing through her mind. “I was surprised when you called me this afternoon.”
Beneath the brim of his gray hat, she could see his brow arch faintly. “Oh. Why was that?” he asked.
She looked away from him and out toward the swiftly changing scenery. In the past couple of minutes the mountains were giving way to flat desert surrounded by low, balding hills.
“Because the other night when you left my place I couldn’t help but think that—” She didn’t know how to put her feelings into words and she groaned inwardly as she tried to fumble her way through it. “Well, that something about me had put you off. I figured you probably intended to avoid me. Because you considered me trouble.”
He kept his eyes on the highway. “You are trouble, Rebecca.”
Frowning, she stared at him. “So what am I doing here? With you?”
This time he chuckled and the sound released some of the tension inside of her.
With his eyes crinkled at the corners, he glanced at her. “Haven’t you guessed by now that I’m a man who likes to flirt with danger?”
Oh, yes, he flirted without even realizing he was flirting. That was part of his charm, she thought. He didn’t even know just how potent he was to a woman, how just a simple little expression on his face was enough to melt her heart.
She started to tell him that there was nothing dangerous about her, but instead she decided it would be best all around to let the matter drop and try to forget everything about that kiss.
“I talked to Bess the other day,” she told him. “She wasn’t exactly what I expected. But she appeared to have cared a great deal for Gertrude.”
“Bess is a little rough around the edges, but that’s understandable. Life hasn’t been easy for the woman. Still, she’s a good ole gal. The kind that would be the first to offer help if you needed it.” He glanced curiously her way. “Was she able to give you any helpful information about your aunt?”
“Actually, she told me something that still has me puzzled. My aunt’s physical appearance looked nothing like my mother’s. She said that Gertrude was tall and blonde. Like me. Is that true? Did you ever see her up close?”
“Not what you’d call close. But she was a tall woman and her hair was light-colored. I used to see her out in the yard, watering the shrubs and flowers. At one time she had a lot of them that bloomed, but that was years ago, back when Quint and I were just young boys. Later on, well, she must have lost interest in the yard and the house. It all started looking run-down.” He grimaced, then shook his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She looked at him with speculation. “Why? The place being run-down is an understatement. It needs plenty of home improvements.”
“Well, yes. But that bit about her losing interest. That’s just a guess on my part. Bad health is probably what made her let things go undone,” he said flatly. “I’ve seen the very same things going on with my own mother.”
Interest peaked her brows. “You’ve never spoken much about your mother. Does she live around here?”
“In Ruidoso. After her and my dad divorced she sold the ranch where I grew up and bought herself a place ‘among the living’ as she calls it.”
The thread of sarcasm she heard in his voice was probably wound around all sorts of family incidents, she decided, and none of them good. “And you didn’t want her to sell?”
“Hell, no! She let the property go for less than half of what it was worth. The two of us could have made a good go of it, but she wasn’t willing to try.”
“I thought you said you were only thirteen when your father left?”
“I was. But I was a big strapping boy. I could do the manual work of a man. And Dad had already taught me all about caring for the livestock.”
“Yes. But still it would have been only you and your mother to see after things. Keeping up a ranch of any size would have been a big job for the two of you.”
“We would’ve had to hire day hands from time to time and a vet whenever one was needed. But—” He let out a long breath and shook his head once. “Sorry. Again. None of that matters anymore.”
“But it still fires you up,” she quietly deduced.
He smiled wanly. “You could tell?”
She chuckled. “Just a little.” Squaring her knees around so that she was facing him, she asked, “Do you and your mother get along?”
He shrugged. “If you’re asking me if I love her, then I do. Very much. God knows she worked hard to raise me—without any help from my dad. But there are times I get so frustrated with her. It’s like she’s given up on life. She only sees the negative side of everything.”
“That’s not good.”
The corners of his mouth turned downward. “No. But then she has her reasons for being like she is. First she lost her husband to another woman. And then about ten years ago she had cancer and went through months of grueling treatment. That wiped the cancer out, but it weakened her heart.”
“Poor woman,” Rebecca murmured, while thinking what Jake must have gone through while his mother was ill. She didn’t have to ask to know that he’d been at her side whenever she needed him, which had probably been a lot. “Is she disabled now?”
“No. And her heart problem wouldn’t be that serious if she would only do what the doctors tell her to do. But she doesn’t. I think—well, I think she’s like your aunt Gertie was these past years. She’s lost all interest.”
Rebecca gazed thoughtfully out the windshield. “Do you think she’s still pining for your father? That she can’t get over losing him?”
He muttered a curse under his breath
. “I’ve tried to tell her that the man isn’t worth losing sleep over. And she agrees. She knew he was no good. Even before he left, she knew he had a string of women, but she loved him.” He looked at her and shook his head with dismay. “Like love means more than anything—even living.”
The tiny ache that settled in her chest confused her. It shouldn’t matter to her that Jake had a cynical outlook about love. But it did and she couldn’t quite understand why. Except that she was beginning to see him as a gallant knight in spurs and blue jeans and knights believed in love. Didn’t they?
“I asked Bess if Gertrude had a man in her life,” Rebecca told him. “She says she thinks there might have been someone a long time ago, but that’s only speculation on her part.”
“What do you think?”
That the right man could make a fool out of most any woman, Rebecca thought. Aloud she said, “Since I never met her I can’t say. I’m thinking that I might be able to glean some things about her whenever I start going through her personal papers. The spare bedroom is piled with boxes of old correspondence. When I sort through them, I might find old letters to friends or someone that mattered to her.”
“You’ve not dug into that stuff yet?”
Rebecca shook her head. “I’ve taken a quick glance at some of the things lying on top, but they all seemed to be bills and receipts. The past couple of weeks I’ve been focused on the animals, clearing the yard of junk and making the house livable.” Bending her head, she absently plucked at a tiny wrinkle in her skirt. “To be honest, Jake, I’m a little reluctant to dig into the correspondence.”
Surprised by her remark, he darted a glance her way. “Why?”
She shrugged. “Fear of the unknown, I suppose.”
He looked even more confused. “I don’t understand, Rebecca. I thought you wanted to learn more about your aunt.”
“I do. When I first found out about Aunt Gertrude I wanted to find out anything and everything—all at once. But I—” She stopped and let out a long sigh. “Now, the more I dwell on it—well, sometimes I get the feeling that I might be better off not knowing. My mother has certainly made it clear that she wants to keep the past hidden. Maybe she’s trying to protect me in some way.”
“From what? Gertrude wasn’t a criminal.”
Sighing, Rebecca swiped a hand through her blond hair. “No. But, Jake, whenever you think about your father—maybe about searching for him—don’t you get the feeling that you might not like what you find?”
“Hell yes. I think that most all the time,” he admitted. “I guess that’s why I’ve never gone on a real search for the man. I’d like to know why he turned his back on me. But finding the answer might tell me more than I want to know.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking about Gertrude’s correspondence.” She cast him a helpless glance. “Are we being cowardly, Jake?”
He grimaced. “I like to think we’re simply being human,” he said.
Just being human. Jake’s words continued to linger in her thoughts as the truck carried them toward a low rise of mountains. When she was near Jake she felt very human. And so much a woman. Whether that was good or bad, she didn’t know. She only knew that Jake was the first man she’d ever allowed to see all sides of her, to view the woman she’d always kept curtained and private.
What did that mean? That he was simply a man that was easy to be with, talk to? Or was she falling in love with him?
Pondering that question, she looked over at his dark profile just as he pointed a finger toward the windshield.
“See that cedar post? You are now entering Rafter R land,” he announced.
There was pride in his voice and the sound made her happy. “Abe tells me you’ve worked very hard on this place. That it’s turning into a ‘damned good ranch’ I think were his exact words.”
“You’ve been talking to Abe again?”
“Yesterday. He came over with two of his ranch hands to haul away the junk I’d gathered together in the yard.”
“Well, I think I should warn you that you can’t believe everything that Abe tells you. The man likes to exaggerate.”
She watched a dimple come and go in his cheek. “I got the feeling that he enjoys telling a tall tale now and then, but in your case, I think I can believe him.”
He chuckled. “You’re about to find out for yourself.”
Five minutes later, Jake steered the truck off the highway and passed beneath an arched entrance made of iron pipe. Sheet metal, cut in the shape of the ranch’s brand, hung from the center of the arch and swung slightly in the dusty breeze.
They traveled at least a half a mile on down the red dirt road when a sprawling log house with a green tin roof appeared beyond a stand of aspen and willow trees. As they grew closer she could see the structure was surrounded with a wooden fence painted brown, while massive blue spruce trees shaded a long, ground level portico.
“How lovely!” she exclaimed, then when he failed to pull into the short drive, her head whipped around in surprise. “Aren’t we going to stop? Or is this someone else’s home?”
A wry grin slanted his lips. “It’s mine. I thought I’d show you some of the other parts of the ranch while we still had daylight. You can always see the house later,” he reasoned. “Unless you need to make a restroom stop before we go on?”
“No. I’m fine,” she assured him. “I was just confused. For a moment I thought that perhaps other people lived on your property. Do they?”
“No. My hired hands live on their own places near Ruidoso and my nearest neighbor is about six miles from here. The closest town, Capitan, is about twenty minutes away. “
“Do you go there often?” she asked.
“I go over there on occasions, to see a few friends. It’s more of a village than a town. So if I need supplies for the ranch, I drive into Ruidoso.”
“I see,” she murmured, as he turned right, onto what appeared to be little more than a two-rutted track with short, stubby grass growing down the middle.
Straightening the steering wheel, Jake glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Did she actually see and understand just how isolated his home really was? he wondered. It was true that Rebecca’s place wasn’t exactly in the middle of a metropolis, but at least Ruidoso was a heck of a lot closer to her place than to his. And compared to Houston, even Ruidoso was a little tadpole of a city.
“There’s not much out here except the wildlife and my cattle and horses,” he told her.
“Yes. But it’s very beautiful. I wasn’t expecting to see this many trees.” She gestured toward a band of trees lining the riverbanks. “I thought it was going to look like the desert area we passed through. And those mountains to our left! Does your property include part of them?”
“No. It runs right up to the foothills. Next to me on that side is protected national forestland. And on the right I butt up to Fort Stanton, which was turned into a museum several years ago. So I have a little strip of property running between federal lands. But the strip crosses the river. And best of all, it’s mine,” he added.
She smiled at him and Jake found it damned hard to keep his eyes on the bumpy track. In that simple little dress she looked every inch a woman and every inch of him wanted her.
“Where are the cows?” she asked, her gaze scanning the horizon.
“All over the place. But I’m sure we’ll probably find some down by the river. The grazing is better there.”
Five minutes later, a few yards away from the river, Jake parked the truck in a flat, shady spot and helped Rebecca to the ground. Then with his hand wrapped firmly around hers, he led her through a tangle of waist-high sage and drooping willow limbs until they were standing at the water’s edge.
“Oh, my! There’s a little waterfall. How perfectly beautiful!” She turned a grateful smile on him. “And how sweet of you to show it to me.”
Sweet? Hell, he’d never been called sweet before. And though it should have made him feel like
a sap, it somehow made him feel warm and wanted. Quint would definitely get a laugh out of that, he thought.
Hoping he didn’t look as goofy as he felt, he grinned at her. “I thought you might like it. Want to get a closer look?”
“I’d love to.”
They walked several yards upstream to where a ledge of boulders had created a tiny dam. The crystal-clear water rushed over the rocky rim and fell at least ten feet before joining the rest of the river.
“Is the water always this clear and deep?” she asked as they stopped just short of the bank’s edge.
“No. Later on in the summer, the level will drop considerably. It’s always clear then. But in the spring, the snow runoff sometimes makes it muddy.”
She turned her head to look at him and as their eyes met he felt as though something had punched him in the stomach. She was so fresh and pretty. Like a bright bird flying through a blue, blue sky. He wanted to touch her. Desperately.
“Do you fish for trout?” she asked.
“Once in a while. But I go to the lake to do that.”
“Is the lake far from here?”
He didn’t know why he couldn’t quit looking at her lips. Why he kept remembering the taste of her kiss. After all, she was just another woman, he tried to tell himself.
He said, “A few miles. Quint and I used to camp there together from time to time. But that was—before he got married.”
“Does that bother you? That Quint got married? You two probably spent lots of time together before he became a family man.”
“Yeah, we did,” he admitted. “But Maura and the babies make him happy. That’s what counts.”
She sighed. “I don’t have any married friends. Most of them are like me, I suppose. Too busy to have a family.”
Jake’s gaze lingered on her face as he tried to read what was behind her pensive expression. “That’s too bad. I’d bet you’d make a good wife and mother.”
Her short laugh was threaded with cynicism. “No one has ever told me that before.”
She gave him a faint smile and Jake was surprised at the sadness he saw in her eyes. “That’s hard to believe. Surely there’ve been men in your life that have mentioned marriage to you before.”
His Texas Wildflower Page 11
