by Kylie Brant
The foreman shook his head.
“Hell, we’re probably chasing our tails,” Jackson said in disgust. “Well, let me know if you hear any more.”
Nick nodded and left the room.
It could just as easily be someone from another ranch, Jackson thought grimly. Word traveled fast in these parts; his men might not have been the only ones aware of how long the sheriff’s area watch would last. And now that Blane and Schmidt had lost cattle to the thieves, wasn’t it just as likely that a hand from either of their ranches was in on it? It was probably even more likely that Roy had come up with this cock-and-bull idea so he wouldn’t have to go out and find the real rustlers. He reached for his cell, meaning to call the sheriff, but thought better of it.
It wouldn’t hurt to wait until after supper to call. His temper would be a little more under control by then, and he was undecided whether he even needed to repeat to Roy what Nick had told him. He rose from his chair and headed to the dining room.
Kaly was already seated, and she watched as Jackson mixed himself a drink. Without comment he poured her a glass of white wine and handed it to her.
She raised her eyebrows as she accepted it. “It’s customary to ask what a person would like to drink before deciding for her.”
“What’s the point?” He shrugged. “I already know you like white wine.”
“The point,” answered Kaly dryly, aware of the futility of explaining, “is to give the other person the chance to make a decision for herself.”
He stared at her impatiently. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want that wine?”
She gave up. “The wine is fine.”
Jackson studied her for a moment over the rim of his glass. “It may surprise you, Kaly,” he said finally, “but some women find it flattering when a man remembers what they drink. Others don’t even mind if a man orders for them in a restaurant.”
Her pained look told him what she thought of that practice.
“And there are still others—” here his voice lowered to a husky drawl “—who enjoy very much using their fingers to feed a man his whole meal, morsel by morsel.”
Kaly met the devilment in his navy gaze squarely. “Those women should be seen to,” she said clearly, “and chemically altered.”
He chuckled. It was obvious that his attempt to get a rise out of her hadn’t succeeded. “You’re an independent little thing, aren’t you?”
“I’ve had to be,” she informed him. “If I’d waited for a man to dictate my life, I’d be living a very different one.”
“Oh? Such as?”
“I would have been safely enrolled in my hometown college, majored in home economics and graduated with my MRS degree.”
Jackson’s eyes crinkled up in amusement. “Whose plan was that?”
“My father’s.”
“But you went your own way because you don’t like being dictated to.”
“Do you?” Kaly countered.
“Touché.” Jackson raised his glass in a salute.
They sat down at the polished walnut table as Peg came through the swinging doors with steaming dishes of food. Soon the table was filled with platters and bowls, and Kaly shook her head in amazement. “Peg, you keep forgetting that there are only two of us eating,” she said, only half joking.
“You don’t need to be eating like a bird,” the older woman scolded, “and Jackson takes a lot to fill up. Has a hollow leg, that one does.” She bent her head closer to Kaly’s as she went by and said in a loud whisper, “Making sure he’s full will keep him from taking a bite out of you.” She continued to bustle around the table, chuckling.
Jackson eyed the color flooding Kaly’s cheeks with interest. “I don’t know,” he murmured suggestively. “I’m betting that a bite of Kaly would taste quite... sweet.”
Kaly mentally damned the blush she could feel heating her face. “Save it,” she managed to order lightly. “I’m not one of your women, Jackson, remember?”
He remembered. God, did he remember! He was reminded by his instant reaction every time her hand grazed his, every time she walked by with that pert little wiggle she had. Or when he engaged in a fantasy of untwining her hair from that braid and finding out for himself if her hair was as thick and smooth as it looked. His body recalled in erotic detail how soft and supple she had felt in his arms.
And his brain remembered all the reasons she should never be there again.
Kaly interrupted his thoughts. “Tell me about the ranch. Carrie says you’ve been running it for some time.”
Jackson nodded. “Ever since my dad died. He was one hell of a fighter. He kept this place going through droughts and low prices, and managed to build it into a well-respected beef operation. He kept trying till the end, but cancer was the one thing he couldn’t beat.”
“You must have learned a lot from him,” Kaly observed quietly.
Jackson considered her statement. How could he explain the bond that had existed between them? It went deeper than that of parent and son. He put his fork down and reached for his glass. “He taught me...everything. How to ride, shoot and rope. I learned every aspect of ranching from him. He taught me to respect the land that gave us a living, to see its beauty and to put back as much as we took from it.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin. “He was concerned about the environment and ecology long before it was fashionable, and he drilled into both Jeff and me the dangers of taking our natural resources for granted. Education was important to him, too—ranching isn’t an occupation for the uninformed. But most of the things I learned from him could never have been taught in a classroom, or read in a book. You have to live them.”
Peg’s entrance interrupted the look of understanding that passed between the two of them. As she began to clear the table, Jackson stood up. “Would you like to take a walk in the gardens? Peg’s got a whole mess of roses out there she’s always bragging about.” This was offered in a tone guaranteed to be overheard by the housekeeper.
“Best rosebushes in the county,” Peg said proudly. “Been taking home so many ribbons from the fair the last few years I’ve purt near covered a whole wall with them. And you just remember, mister,” she said as Jackson and Kaly walked toward the French doors, “keep your hands off them, or you’ll answer to me.”
Kaly had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the look of mock fright that crossed Jackson’s face, but she noticed as they walked that he was careful to do as Peg had ordered.
The brick paths between the flower beds were narrow, and she was uncomfortably aware of each time her arm brushed Jackson’s. She edged away, trying for her own peace of mind to keep a little distance between them.
Jackson noticed her movement and commented on it as he stopped momentarily to light a cigarette. “You’re not afraid of me, are you, Kaly?”
She turned to eye him askance. “Afraid? I’m not afraid of you, or any other man.”
He didn’t answer, just kept watching her steadily as he drew on his cigarette.
“Well, okay, I have to admit that Hannibal Lecter gives me the creeps,” she added cheekily.
His mouth quirked, but he didn’t interrupt his perusal of her. “Maybe ‘afraid’ was the wrong word. How about ‘wary’?”
That observation was too close to the mark, and she was honest enough to admit it to both of them. “Yes.”
He narrowed his eyes against the smoke curling up between them. “Why?”
The question hung in the air as their eyes continued to meet. Why, indeed? Kaly searched for a truthful answer that wasn’t overly blunt. “You’re too...” Here she floundered. Too everything. Too big, too gorgeous, too successful and way too sure of himself. Too used to power and control and too easy about wielding them.
Jackson waited for her to finish, but when she didn’t, he continued helpfully, “Too sweet?”
She choked. Not hardly.
“Too smart?”
Most assuredly. Her mind still reeled from the management skills d
isplayed in the thick ledgers and records he kept.
“Too darned handsome for my own good?” His eyes were dancing, but her heart agreed. God, yes. For his good or anyone else’s.
“Probably,” she affirmed primly.
His hand went to his heart in shock. “A compliment from Miss Scott? Will wonders never cease?” His grin was a white slash in his darkly tanned face.
Kaly was visibly uncomfortable. “I’m sure a man like you is very aware of your appeal to women.”
His eyebrows rose at this. “A man like me?” When she didn’t go on, he prompted her. “And what kind of man am I?”
She met his eyes squarely, despite her discomfort with the turn this conversation was taking. “Experienced.”
Jackson tilted his head slightly to blow a stream of smoke away. “You don’t get to be my age without some experience, Kaly. Or your age, either,” he added. “Why does that bother you?”
She shook her head. “Let’s drop it. I don’t want to make the mistake again of offering unsolicited observations on your personal life,” she said, referring to their discussion in the pasture.
“I was out of line,” Jackson answered. “I thought we’d agreed on that. And I’m curious. Go ahead and tell me how you see me. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
After a long pause, Kaly did as he requested. “You’re used to having your own way. You’ve had a lot of responsibility with the ranch, and you’re accustomed to giving orders.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“Nothing when it’s related to work. Only when you respond to people that way.”
“You’re saying I’m bossy,” Jackson interpreted.
She almost laughed when he used one of the same words she had used to describe him to herself. “If the boot fits,” she said sweetly.
He took another long drag on his cigarette, considering what she’d said. He couldn’t deny her words, not completely, anyway. Running the ranch required constant decision-making, and he didn’t bother to tiptoe around his men—he told them what to do and they did it. He thought he was a bit more diplomatic with others, but apparently the lady saw things differently. “Go on.”
Kaly plucked a waxy green leaf from one of the flowering plants nearby and began to shred it. She still doubted the wisdom of continuing in this vein, but he had, after all, invited it. “You use your experience with your ex-fiancée as a shield to keep women at a distance.”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he drawled, “but I like women to be pretty close.”
“Physically, but not emotionally,” she said firmly. “You don’t let anyone get close enough to hurt you.”
He was silent for so long that Kaly thought she had ignited his temper again. But when he spoke, his voice was quiet. “Spoken like someone who’s been there. How about it, Kaly?” He met her gaze soberly. “Who caused you to be so cautious?”
He saw entirely too much, she thought uncomfortably. “I was engaged once, too,” she admitted.
“And?”
“And I was wrong about him,” she said slowly. “It frightened me to realize how poor my judgment was.”
Jackson dropped his cigarette to the walk and ground it beneath his heel. “It puts a damnable dent in your pride,” he agreed. “But you didn’t let it destroy you. You got on with your life. So it sounds to me like we’re not so different, after all.”
Kaly mulled this over. They’d both been hurt by a person they’d chosen to marry, and that couldn’t help but affect the way they responded to members of the opposite sex. She was uncomfortable with the feeling of kinship this knowledge brought. It had been difficult to ignore his pull when she had known little about him, but now she felt an emotional closeness, as well, and that terrified her.
She felt suffocated suddenly, by his nearness and their disclosures. “Do you know what time Carrie and Jeff will be back tomorrow?”
“Jeff said they’d head back after the test tomorrow morning,” Jackson replied, “so expect them around noon or so.”
Kaly turned back to the house. “I think I’ll go for a ride.”
“It’s getting pretty late,” Jackson observed. He raised his hands to stem her response. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just want you to be careful. Lots of critters come out at dusk, and some of them might spook Misty. Just head back in plenty of time, that’s all.”
She nodded, and Jackson watched her make her way back to the house as he shook another cigarette from the package and lit it. He was frankly grateful to be alone. He was still uncomfortable with how easily she had read him. She had called him mostly right, he acknowledged. How the hell she’d managed that with his well-practiced defenses, he didn’t know.
Or maybe he did. He drew on his cigarette deeply, then blew perfect rings in the air. If she had been right about him, he knew with absolute certainty that he had read her equally well. Her failed relationship had caused her caution around men, and she had figured him out so easily because his feelings were probably similar to her own.
He remained where he was, in uncustomary idleness, and reflected on the unlikely understanding they had just reached. He didn’t have time for this; he needed to get down to the barn. There was still some light left, and he should talk to Nick, plan the men’s duties for the next day. He also needed to make that call to Sheriff Dumont to check on the investigation.
But he was immobile for the next several minutes as he continued to draw on his cigarette. His mind wasn’t on mending fence or finding missing cattle. Instead, he was wondering about the man who had gotten close enough to hurt Kaly Scott.
Chapter 5
Carrie and Jeff arrived home before noon the next day, and Peg fixed a celebratory lunch. The test results had convinced the doctor that Carrie’s pregnancy was progressing normally, and they couldn’t conceal their relief at the news.
“I hope now you’re persuaded— Carrie’s droll look encompassed both her husband and brother-in-law “—that it’s safe to stop treating me like a porcelain doll. The doctor was as certain as he could be that the baby is healthy.” Her tone was smug. “He said I could resume my normal activities.”
“He said within reason, Carrie,” Jeff stressed.
Jackson put in, “No use taking any chances. It won’t hurt to continue being extra careful.”
Kaly smiled in commiseration at the beseeching look Carrie threw her. “She isn’t talking about training for the Boston marathon, you know,” she told Jeff teasingly. “She just means that now you can ease up a little.”
“For instance,” Carrie said, shooting her husband a side glance, “you can stop carrying me up and down the porch steps! It’s bad enough at the ranch, but when you insisted on carrying me up the four steps to the doctor’s office, people thought we were demented.”
Even Jackson had to smile at that. But Jeff’s jaw squared. “Fine. You can use the porch steps. But we’re still not moving our room back upstairs until after the baby comes. You don’t need to be climbing stairs unnecessarily.” His tone said the subject was closed, and Kaly blinked at him in amazement.
She had never heard that note in his voice, nor seen his face as serious as it was now. For the first time since she’d met him, Kaly saw an obvious resemblance to Jackson’s implacable manner, and it surprised her. It was so at odds with Jeff’s usual cheerful personality. Obviously his concern for his wife brought out his most protective instincts, and she secretly thought it was rather sweet. Still, she couldn’t help sympathizing with Carrie. She knew too well what it was like to chafe at restrictions.
Kaly’s musings were interrupted as Jackson’s chair scraped back and he got to his feet. “Well, some of us have work to do. We can’t afford to laze around in the city for days.” He grinned when Carrie wrinkled her nose at him. “We’re glad to have you back, especially with the good news. Kaly almost drove me nuts worrying about you.”
Kaly’s eyes widened. “Look who’s talking.” She confided in an aside to Jeff
and Carrie, “As you know, Jackson never learned that patience is a virtue.” Her audience grinned appreciatively at the truth of her statement. “He practically ordered the phone to ring, then pounced on it when it did.”
“Just to ease Kaly’s mind.” He winked at them before strolling to the door. “I never had the slightest doubt what the outcome would be.” Kaly rolled her eyes and the others laughed at his feigned nonchalance.
“I’m ready to get back to work,” Jeff said after the dishes had been cleared away. At Kaly’s nod, he looked at his wife. “What are you going to do this afternoon, honey?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Carrie said airily. “I always manage to keep myself busy.”
“That’s fine as long as it doesn’t include lifting, bending, climbing, riding...”
“How about breathing?” she muttered under her breath, but Jeff heard and pretended to consider.
“Well…okay.” he said finally, giving her a hug. “But take it easy, huh?”
Kaly made her way to the office, leaving Jeff lingering over his wife’s lips. By the time she had the computer on he’d joined her, and they worked steadily all afternoon. After a brief supper they put in a few more hours, unaware of the passage of time until Carrie’s voice floated in from the hallway.
“If I don’t get some company out here pretty soon I’m going to do something desperate. I’m thinking about going out to break that ornery horse Jackson bought.”
That brought Jeff immediately to his feet and halfway to the door before he recognized the jest. “I guess that’s my wife’s not-so-subtle way of telling me we’ve worked long enough,” he said in amusement, turning to Kaly. “We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow morning.”
“Jeffrey Roberts!” This time Carrie appeared in the doorway. “You know tomorrow is the Blanes’ barbecue. You haven’t forgotten that, surely.”
“Of course not,” Jeff proclaimed, with an exaggerated patience that clearly attested he had. “But working a couple of hours in the morning won’t hurt, will it? The barbecue doesn’t start until after lunch.”
