by Kylie Brant
Working himself half to death the past few days hadn’t made him forget her, either. It had only succeeded in shortening his temper. The men walked around him visibly nervous, and his foreman, Nick, was on the verge of snarling back at him.
“Glad you could make it, Jackson,” a smooth voice said from behind his shoulder.
He turned slowly. “Paul.” He nodded to the band. “Looks like you’ve gone all out tonight.”
Paul’s dark suit highlighted his blond good looks, and he was, as always, meticulously groomed. A slight smile crossed his lips. “Well, everyone seemed to be having such a good time last weekend, and it’s been a while since I’ve returned my neighbors’ hospitality.” He studied Jackson for a moment. “I know I’ve been traveling quite a bit the last couple of years, but now that I’m back, there’s really no reason for me to be a hermit, is there?”
“No reason at all,” Jackson replied.
Paul relaxed imperceptibly. “Have you spoken to Dumont lately?” he inquired, his light blue gaze sweeping the room before returning to Jackson.
“Just left him, in fact,” Jackson said, nodding.
“So you heard I was the latest victim of the blasted rustlers.”
Jackson nodded silently.
“Thirty head probably doesn’t sound like much, but I run a much smaller herd than you. I’ll feel the loss.”
“Thirty head is a bigger hit than any of us have taken at one time,” Jackson said. “Sounds like the thieves are getting bolder.”
“What do you think Dumont’s chances are of catching them?” Paul asked.
Ed Blane and Doug Schmidt joined them at that moment. Jackson shrugged at Paul’s question. As impatient as he was with the slow progress of the investigation, he also understood the sheriff’s predicament.
“Dumont’s sharp enough,” he answered finally. “The vehicle description you gave will sure help.”
“How in the Sam Hill did you manage a vehicle description, Paul?” Ed asked. “Did you catch them in the act?”
Paul gave a short laugh. “I passed a couple of pickups and a truck full of cattle about a mile from my ranch on my way home last night. Can you believe it? I didn’t think much of it until my men told me about the missing head this morning. Then I remembered those trucks and called Roy. I sure wish I’d paid better attention last night.”
“Too bad,” Doug mumbled in disappointment. “You might be the only one to get that close to the rustlers.”
“I got close enough to remember some details about one of the pickups,” Paul said grimly. “It was a Ford 150, a metallic navy color. Had a fancy grill, too.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Heck, I noticed it because it caught my eye. I always have to look twice when I see a new-model pickup.”
Ed and Doug nodded in agreement. But Jackson had frozen at Paul’s description of the truck he’d passed. He, too, had seen such a pickup and admired the unusual metallic navy cover. He and some of the men had joked that with the fancy grill and wheels, the truck was good only for showing off.
The truck belonged to Larry Scott.
Jackson’s mind raced furiously. Roy had told him that Paul had gotten a good look at the pickup, but this was the first time Jackson had heard it described. He considered phoning the sheriff with this last bit of news, but then just as quickly decided against it. Larry Scott wasn’t going anywhere; he’d keep until tomorrow. And in the meantime he would have Nick do some checking into the man’s whereabouts the previous evening.
He forced down a scalding urge for revenge. He might be known as a hard man, but he prided himself on being a fair one. He hadn’t voiced his earlier suspicions about the hired man when talking to Roy. He hadn’t felt right about it; the evidence had been too damn flimsy. But this new information changed everything. And if Larry Scott turned out to be involved, he’d personally nail his low-down hide to the wall.
Jackson was distracted from his vengeful thoughts by the continued conversation of the men around him. “Well, at least we have a little more to go on than before,” proclaimed Ed. He shook his head ruefully. “They must have nerves of steel to keep hitting the same area and outwitting us all. Makes me feel like a downright fool.”
Jackson gave a feral smile. “Thieves are lazy, and these rustlers don’t appear to be all that bright. They’ve been lucky so far, but their luck won’t last forever.” Paul nodded in agreement.
Schmidt and Blane continued to discuss the rustling with Paul, and Jackson only half listened. He watched with narrowed eyes as Kaly passed from Justin King’s arms to Jeff’s. Seemed as if she had danced with every man here tonight except him. Maybe it was time to change that. He took a sip from his forgotten drink. Maybe it was time to change a lot of things.
He was willing to admit he may have been wrong about Kaly Scott. She was nothing like Maria—she didn’t have a cash register where her heart should be. But in her sweetness lay another kind of danger. It would be too easy to be drawn close to her, to trust her. And once a man trusted a woman, all hell broke loose. But he wasn’t going to be trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey by his feelings for a woman. He’d never allow that. He was an old hand at keeping a part of himself untouched.
That didn’t mean, however, they couldn’t share something enjoyable. He frowned slightly. Convincing Kaly was a different matter. She was a wary little thing. But it wasn’t ego that told him she’d been fighting their attraction as much as he had. He’d have to go slowly, calm her fears. His hard mouth curled in anticipation. He looked forward to persuading her.
“Jackson! I asked you if you were going to dance with me.” Jackson slowly pulled his eyes away from Kaly and looked at the redhead by his side. From the petulance on her perfect features, it was obvious she’d made her request more than once. Jackson smiled charmingly and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor. He could wait.
Jeff was teasing Kaly unmercifully about her having to put up with Justin King stomping all over her toes. “I’d better tell Carrie to have a bucket of ice water ready for you once we get back home.” At her uncomprehending look he added, “Your feet are probably so bruised by now that tomorrow you’ll be hobbling around barefoot.”
Kaly punched him lightly on the shoulder. “If that happens I’ll make you carry me,” she threatened. “It’s your fault I had to dance so long with him.”
“My fault?” Jeff looked wounded. “How do you figure that?”
“Because—” Kaly smiled sweetly “—dear Mr. King was busy explaining what an impact he’d had on your choice of careers.” She laughed at Jeff’s comical face. “He claims that he whetted your interest in history when you were but a lad, listening untiringly at his knee of his accounts of past glories of the King family and their contribution to the settling of the West.”
Jeff groaned feelingly. “If that man’s stories had anything to do with my decision to write, I’d be writing fiction, not history. He used to tell the biggest whoppers I ever heard, and it always took forever to get away from him.”
Kaly laughed, but then stopped short when she caught sight of Jackson dancing. He looked wonderful. She’d never seen him so dressed up. Jeff often wore slacks and dress shirts around the house, but she’d only seen Jackson in jeans and plain shirts, befitting the manual work he did. He made a devastating picture, and her eyes feasted on him hungrily. He wore a beige suit with a light blue shirt and striped tie. He looked incredibly handsome but not much more civilized than he did in his work clothes. There was something savage about his manner, something a little dangerous about his face that gave him an untamed look, despite what he wore.
At the moment, however, she thought waspishly, he was very close to wearing his partner. Kaly noted with unaccustomed jealousy the way the woman was running her fingers through the hair at his nape and tried not to recall when her own hand had done the same.
Jeff noticed Kaly’s changed expression and danced her around so that he could unobtrusively follow the direction of her gaze. When he sa
w his brother, he said in surprise, “Hey, Jackson made it. I never saw him come in.” He glanced back down at Kaly and seemed about to say more, then hesitated. Finally he asked uncomfortably, “He hasn’t been, ah, bothering you, has he, Kaly?”
Kaly’s heart jumped, and she could feel herself blush guiltily. Her eyes flew to his and then away. “What are you talking about, Jeff?”
“I’m talking about Jackson and you. Jack’s got a blind spot a mile wide about women. Sometimes he can be a bit hardheaded. I hope he hasn’t offended you in some way.”
Kaly could feel herself go weak with relief. Her pulse was still beating madly in response to her mistaken interpretation of Jeff’s words. Bother her? Yes, it would be safe to say that Jackson Roberts did, indeed, bother her. But not in the way Jeff meant.
“We understand each other better than you think.” she responded. “And we get along fine, don’t worry. Of course he’s never there, so that helps,” she added dryly.
“Yeah, he’s been pretty busy lately.” Jeff frowned, seemed about to say more, then shrugged and looked inquiringly at Kaly. “How about it—shall we give our feet a rest and get something to drink?”
“You’d better go rescue that wife of yours. She looks like her worst nightmare has come true. Mrs. Blane has her trapped again.”
Sure enough, when the two looked at Carrie, she was nodding politely to the older woman’s chatter. She caught her husband’s eye at that moment and gave him a beseeching look. Jeff grinned down at Kaly and squeezed her hand. “Looks like you’re right. Mrs. Blane is probably giving her a rundown of every minute of the labor and birth of her only child, for the fourteenth time. Carrie has threatened to throttle the woman if she had to sit through it again.”
“Go, then.” Kaly laughed. “We don’t want Carrie to have to give birth in a jail cell.”
“I’ll keep Kaly company, Jeff,” a smooth voice behind them offered.
Jeff greeted their host. “Hey, Paul. Nice of you to invite us all.”
“Well, it gave me a good excuse to see Kaly again,” was his laughing rejoinder. Paul gazed down at her admiringly. “I’ve been waiting all night for a chance to dance with you. But I’m not surprised you’ve had so many partners tonight. You look fantastic.” Kaly was a little discomfited under his openly admiring gaze, but acquiesced when he asked her to dance. Paul took her in his arms and moved her onto the floor, while Jeff made his way across the room to his wife.
“Are you having a good time tonight?” Paul inquired.
“Yes, I’m having a wonderful time,” Kaly responded warmly. “I love dancing, and your band is excellent.”
He looked satisfied. “They’re not bad for these parts, I guess. We don’t often get the chance to shed jeans and cowboy hats around here. I enjoy the change.” Here his voice dropped. “And I wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to see you in that dress for anything.”
Kaly smiled slightly. He was flattering her outrageously and made no effort to hide it. She knew he was charmingly glib, but decided there was no harm in him. As long as she remembered that he probably reacted similarly to any unattached woman, why not enjoy his company? Certainly it was a relief to engage in such lighthearted conversation with a man. There were no undercurrents in his words, nor did she have to choose her responses carefully. All in all he made a delightful companion, and she allowed herself to be amused by him. It was much better than spending the evening following Jackson with her eyes.
The music stopped, but Paul made no move to relinquish her. The next song was slow. He drew her gently to him and they began to sway to the melody.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice interrupted them. “I believe this is the dance Kaly promised me.” Jackson cut in smoothly and danced Kaly away, with no more apology to her partner. Paul stood staring after them, a frown of displeasure marring his handsome features.
“That was certainly rude,” she observed icily when she recovered from her surprise.
Jackson eyed her lazily as he moved her capably around the floor. “The only way to get what you want is to reach out and take it. Did I interrupt you in the middle of a conquest? He seems pretty smitten already, although I have to warn you, his tomcatting reputation is legendary.”
“I’m sure your phone numbers are written on the same bathroom walls, then,” Kaly replied sweetly, “because I’ve heard the identical thing about you.”
Jackson shrugged his massive shoulders and continued gazing down at her. Up close she looked even more delectable, and the view his height afforded him made him warm, then frown. “Is that dress the fashion for anthropologists in Tucson? Seems a little drafty to me.”
“Oh, then it must have been gallantry on your part that had you holding your last partner so closely. You were trying to keep her warm?”
Jackson looked satisfied. “That’s me. Gallant to the end.” He allowed a tiny smile to cross his hard features. “Is it my imagination or are you jealous?”
“Steven Spielberg should have your imagination,” Kaly scoffed. “If reality were half as exciting as your fantasy life, you’d never survive it.”
Jackson threw back his dark head and laughed boisterously. Kaly looked around surreptitiously, embarrassed to find others were looking at them. He drew her closer, still chuckling. “You certainly have a smart mouth on you, Miss Scott.” He lowered his head and whispered throatily, “I’d much rather have it on me.” He nipped her ear.
Kaly pulled her head away. She ignored the tiny shivers that raced down her spine at his audacity. “Have you been drinking, Jackson?” she asked suspiciously. She could think of no other explanation for this sudden change in his behavior.
“Why would you think that?” he countered, his navy eyes alight with interest and amusement. His hand on her back slipped intimately to her derriere, and she stiffened in shock. But before she could protest it moved to the small of her back, leaving her wondering if she had imagined the caress.
She tried to find the necessary words to answer him, but her mind seemed to have been afflicted by the same lethargy stealing into her limbs. “You...I mean,” she faltered, cursing inwardly at the breathless quality of her voice. “This sudden display of attention is a bit careless, isn’t it? We decided weeks ago to avoid this.”
“Hmm, my memories of that day are completely accurate,” he murmured in her ear. “Remember? It was that day by the fence when I kissed you, and you—”
“I remember!” Kaly’s whisper was strangled, and her hand tightened in his. “Which is why I don’t understand why you’re acting like this!”
He responded by bringing her hand to his lips, where he dropped a kiss into it and then cupped it tightly again in his own. Laughter laced his voice as he teased, “Don’t you really mean—” here his voice changed to falsetto “—oh, my, Mr. Roberts, this is so sudden.”
His clowning surprised a gust of laughter from her, which she swiftly tried to suppress.
“You,” she said with as much sternness as she could muster, “are incorrigible.”
“You laughed,” he pointed out reasonably.
“I’m not laughing.” She bit her lip to still its quivering.
“Then why is your body trembling against mine?”
Her breath hissed in at his knowing remark. “Revulsion?”
“Kaly.” Jackson placed a soft kiss on one bare shoulder and smiled in satisfaction as she shuddered wildly. “If you don’t know the difference between passion and revulsion, I’ll be glad to teach you.”
Kaly was beginning to feel cornered. “Jackson, why are you doing this?” There was a pleading note in her voice. “Think about it. We’ve spent weeks avoiding this very thing.”
“Weeks of getting to know each other better,” he said in a low voice, serious now. “Weeks of being attracted, weeks of being tempted.”
She began to have difficulty breathing. “This is not what we need.”
Jackson looked pensive. “You’re wrong. I think it’s exactly what we need. I
t hasn’t done us any good to pretend to ignore each other.” He paid no attention to her sharp intake of breath. “As far as I can tell, staying away from each other hasn’t put the fire out in me.” He turned inquiring eyes down to her face. “How about you?”
“How many pounds a day of raw meat does it take to feed that ego of yours?” Kaly’s tone held amazement. Taking a quick look at his skeptical features, she added, “I can assure you I’ve been much too busy to think about you at all.”
“Little liar,” he chided. “Chemistry like that doesn’t go away by itself. I should know.”
“Oh, here comes the line. What are you going to suggest now? That we have to give in to the chemistry, douse the fire?” Kaly asked sarcastically.
Jackson smiled down at her in satisfaction and hugged her closer to his chest. He lowered his head and murmured, “Why, Miss Scott, I’m shocked! However, I do think you may have hit upon an idea. I’m agreeable if you are.”
Kaly gnashed her teeth. The man shook her equilibrium, baiting her into making remarks that embarrassed her as soon as they left her mouth. She tore herself out of his arms as the song ended and muttered, “I’m going to get some air.”
She found her way to a washroom, where she lingered as long as she could. Still loath to reenter the party Kaly found the doors to the terrace and slipped outside, grateful for the opportunity to prolong her escape. Another couple was there, engrossed in each other, so she moved to the far end of the terrace, where she could stand near the railing in the shadows. She sighed in remembered embarrassment. What was it about that man that put her mouth into overdrive? Jackson could infuriate her with a few well-chosen words from his chauvinistic mouth.
“Hiding?” a voice growled in her ear.
