Zach let out a humorless laugh. “You know me, cousin. Careful is my middle name.”
That night, after Cash and his family left for town and Jobeth had gone to bed, Tess sat out on the front porch step with Reggie. Across the yard, the lights were on in the foreman’s cottage. Edna would be settling in for her first night in her new home.
Tess drew up her knees, smoothing the skirt she wore down over them. Reggie gave a little whine, so she scratched him behind one of his droopy ears.
Actually, the foreman’s cottage wasn’t new to Edna. It had been her home for years before she moved to the main house. That had been back when Ross Bravo, Zach’s grandfather, had run the Rising Sun. Edna had lived in the cottage with her husband Ty, the Rising Sun’s top hand. Tess had never met Ty. He had died just a few months before she and Jobeth had come to Medicine Creek.
Abby had been born in the foreman’s cottage—during a blizzard when there’d been no way to get to the hospital in Buffalo. Cash, who was fifteen years old at the time, had been there when it happened. He had held Abby as a tiny baby, less than an hour after she first entered the world.
Tess smiled at the idea of a man holding his wife on the day of her birth. And then she frowned.
For some reason, right then, she found she was thinking of her father, dead now for several years. Roger Inman had been a tall, serious man—hardworking and kind. Even when he’d learned that his unmarried teenage daughter was pregnant, he hadn’t raised a hand to her.
He’d only said, “It’s time for truth, daughter. All of it, I think.”
She had cried and told him about Josh. And he had listened, his eyes so sad and disappointed in her. But still kind. Still full of love.
He’d taken her out to the room off the barn where Josh slept. And Josh had looked so white and scared at first, but then he’d said he did love her. And would marry her.
So she had bound her life to him. That had been at the start of her senior year of high school. She’d been a straight-A student and she’d managed, just barely, to finish her required classes and graduate a semester early, before she got too big with Jobeth. At the time it hadn’t occurred to her or her father—or Josh, either, for that matter—that there might have been some other choice besides marriage. She was seventeen and pregnant and needed a husband. Period.
Over in the foreman’s cottage, the living room went dark. A few seconds later, the front bedroom light came on. Edna would be getting ready for bed.
Time for truth, daughter, her father used to say. Time for truth.
Tess pulled her sweater a little closer around her shoulders and thought of Cash, of the moment this afternoon when he’d driven up in the moving truck with Abby and Tyler. Zach had followed behind them in the blue pickup, with Edna on the passenger side.
Tess had been over in the foreman’s cottage, freshening things up a bit for Edna’s arrival. She’d heard the vehicles and run out to the porch. She’d seen the moving truck—and realized that Zach wasn’t in it.
So she’d looked toward the pickup, seeking the shadow of Zach’s hat in the window. And when she’d seen it, seen his profile and his strong hands on the wheel, she’d felt that rising, joyful feeling that she used to get at the sight of Cash.
Tess closed her eyes, drew in a long breath of the cool night air and laid her cheek down on her drawn-up knees. She felt so bewildered. And lost. So out of sorts with the world and her knowledge of herself.
She wanted Zach. She yearned for his touch, for a kind word, for a smile across the table during dinner. For a kiss on the porch after dark...
Oh, it felt like love. Exactly like love.
And it made her feel foolish and shallow, a woman whose affections changed with each shift in the winds. It made her wonder if she’d ever understood love at all—and if she was capable of loving a good man the way such a man deserved to be loved, with steadiness and loyalty, for as long as they both should live.
Behind her, she heard the front door open. Zach. It would be Zach. She hadn’t thought he would come to talk with her tonight. He hadn’t sought her out for the past two nights. Not since Wednesday night, when he’d kissed her and then gone inside so swiftly, leaving her to wonder if he regretted that sweet brushing of his lips against hers.
She heard his step, behind her. And then he made the small clicking noise with his tongue that signaled Reggie. The dog got up and moved out of the way.
Zach dropped down beside her.
The warmth of his body reached out to her. She kept her gaze on the foreman’s cottage. She watched the light in the bedroom go out, but she watched without really seeing. Her mind was filled with the man sitting beside her, her senses humming with gladness and anxiety at his nearness. She felt shy, suddenly, and feared turning to face him. So she didn’t. She just sat there, staring into the night.
And as Tess looked at the night, Zach looked at her, his gaze tracing her soft profile, wondering what she was thinking—but not sure that he’d like what he heard if she told him.
On one level, this practical marriage had turned out to be exactly what he’d hoped it might. The hands went to work smiling, their bellies full of good food. The house his grandfather had built was a place of order and comfort. Tess filled the rooms with warmth and light.
Beyond the good she did in his home, she had brought him Jobeth, who would make one hell of a rancher someday. Every day Zach felt more and more certain that there would be someone to take the reins from him when the time came to pass them on.
Things had worked out just as he’d hoped.
Except for the wanting. The wanting was the problem.
He wanted Tess too much. And he wanted her more and more all the time. He probably shouldn’t have come out here tonight. But she drew him. He’d known she was out here. And he just couldn’t stay away.
The thought came all the time now, that she was his wife and he had a right to her body. That she would accept him willingly in her bed, because she did want children, after all. That she was only waiting for him to reach out his hand.
It was damn scary. He felt so vulnerable to her. And he didn’t want to be vulnerable. He just plain didn’t need any woman having that kind of power over him—especially not Tess. Not Tess, his wife, who was absolutely perfect in every single way—except for the little problem that she loved another man.
She moved, turning her head slowly, seeking his eyes through the night. “I think it should work out just fine, with Edna in the foreman’s cottage.”
He looked at her, at her pretty, cat-slanted dark eyes and her smooth brow and that mouth with its neat little bow at the top. Her mouth drove him crazy, it was so soft and sweet.
She frowned. “Zach. Don’t you think so?”
“What?”
“That Edna’s going to be fine, living in the—”
“Oh. Edna. Yeah. Edna’s fine.”
“Are you...all right?”
“I’m fine.”
She let out a little sigh and hugged her knees up close to her chest so she could rest her chin on them. He thought of leaning over; putting his mouth against her neck, sucking a little, making a mark there. Then kissing that mark. Of pulling her to him, opening her shirt, seeing her breasts, in the moonlight, touching them, kissing them. Then taking her hand, leading her in the house and up the stairs...
She laid her head sideways on her knees, so she could look at him. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You seem so...”
“What?”
“I don’t know...” She waited, probably for him to supply some explanation of his mood. He supplied nothing, so she sighed again and lifted her head to look out at the yard. He watched her lips curve as she smiled. “Jobeth was so sweet tonight, keeping Tyler Ross out of trouble while Abby and I helped Edna unpack.” She closed her eyes, tipped her head up, as if she were offering her pretty face to the night. “One more week, and she can go back to the doctor. Maybe, if she’s lucky, that cas
t can come off.”
“year.”
She looked at him again. God, he could smell her, smell the special scent of her body, so warm and sweet and tempting.
Somewhere around the time he’d imagined sucking a red mark onto her neck, he’d become hard. A damn humiliation if there ever was one. If he stood and she looked at the front of his Wranglers, she would know.
He was out of control. Completely out of control.
She looked away again, and smiled out at the night.
“Tyler Ross is so cute. And it’s funny, even though he’s hardly more than a baby, he’s got that Bravo look stamped on him so strong.”
He watched her mouth. Watched that dreamy smile. And he knew she had to be thinking about Cash.
“What do you mean, that Bravo look?” It came out harsh, full of challenge, angry-sounding.
She snapped her head around. “What is wrong?”
He ached, that was what. For her. For her soft body. All around him. For the release that sinking into her tender flesh would bring. “Nothing. I just asked what you meant. What Bravo look?”
Her gaze scanned his face, lighting briefly on his mouth. “Well, the mouth.”
“The mouth?”
“Kind of full, for a man. And the nose. A very strong nose. And the eyes...I don’t know. It’s just...the way you all look.”
She kept smiling, and he knew, though it was dark, that her skin was flushed. He would feel the heat, if he touched her.
God. He wanted to touch her. To reach out and—“Look,” he said gruffly.
“What?”
“I’m going in.” He stood, quickly, and turned away before she could see the proof of the power she had over him.
“But, Zach—”
“Good night.” He headed for the door.
He heard her jump to her feet and start coming for him. “Wait. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter.”
“That’s not true. What did I do?”
He reached for the door. “Nothing.”
She caught up with him. He could feel her, at his back. And then she made the mistake of putting her hand on his shoulder. “Zach—”
It was too much, that soft touch, that pleading tone. He spun on her and reached out, grabbed her by the hips and yanked her tight against him.
“Oh!” Those cat eyes went wide as she felt it, felt what she did to him.
“You happy?” he snarled, pulling her tighter still, feeling the heat of her, starving for more.
“I didn’t...Oh, Zach...” No more words came.
And that was fine with him. He didn’t want any words anyway. He could put that mouth of hers to use just fine doing other things than talking.
He lowered his head and took that mouth. It gave beneath his, parting, sighing, welcoming him. He ground his hips against hers, holding her tight, almost hoping she would refuse him, push him away.
But she didn’t. She surged up with a small cry, and twined her slim arms around his neck. He felt her, the whole slender, sighing length of her. Her breasts pressed against his chest, so soft and round and full. And her hips—her hips pushed right back at him, answering, beckoning, welcoming him.
He bit her lower lip, not too hard, just enough to let her know that he might hurt her, might be rough with her, the need was so strong in him right then. She whimpered, a sound of surrender, a sound that said he could do what he wanted with her. He twined his hands in her silky hair, pulling a little, tipping her head back. And his mouth slid down, over the curve of her chin, to her neck. He licked the smooth, warm flesh and then he sucked, as he had imagined doing, putting his teeth against the skin, bringing a welt that would leave a slight bruise by morning. She clasped his head, holding him to her, as if she craved that mark.
He wanted to see her. All of her. To take her clothes away from her and have the whole of her body, all of her. For himself.
He froze.
And in spite of the roaring of his blood, the hunger in his body, he remembered.
He would not have her. Not all of her.
She tipped her hips against him, tried to tempt him to take her mouth again, to make him forget that what she offered wasn’t everything. Wasn’t complete.
“Oh, Zach...”
“No.”
“Don’t pull away. Please—”
He took her shoulders and very deliberately held her away from him. His body throbbed at the loss of a heaven not quite attained.
“Zach—”
“No, I said. No.” He took his right hand from her shoulder and put it across those soft, tempting lips. “Listen.”
She looked at him, waiting, her eyes begging with him over the mask of his hand. He dragged in a breath. “You’ll listen?”
She nodded.
He said in a ragged whisper, “I loved my first wife. She cut out my heart and used it for buzzard bait. I don’t need that again.”
She pushed his hand away from her mouth. “I would never—”
He squeezed her shoulder. “Let me finish.”
She swallowed. “All right.”
He released her, stepping back. She swayed on her feet a little when he let go. But then she collected herself, drew in a breath and stood tall.
He chose his words with great care. “This is a good marriage we have. A practical one. One that’s working out fine for both of us. I say we don’t mess it up.”
She made a small, frustrated noise. “But how could we mess it up by doing...what married people do?”
He stared at her for a long, deep moment, knowing that she wouldn’t like hearing the truth any more than he wanted to say it.
“Zach. Please. Tell me, talk to me...”
So he did.
“I know who’s in your heart, Tess. And it’s not me.”
Chapter Ten
Tess gave a cry and put her hand against her mouth. Her eyes went wide and wounded. She couldn’t have looked more shocked if he had slapped her hard across the face.
For a long, gruesome moment, they stared at each other. Then she dropped her hand. She whispered raggedly, “How did you know?”
Zach had a sinking, weary feeling, then. Until that moment, somewhere deep inside him, he had hoped that just maybe he’d been mistaken about this.
Her lower lip trembled. “It was that night, wasn’t it? The night we moved our things out here. The night of the engagement party. You came up the basement stairs and you...” She seemed unable to finish.
So he finished for her. “I saw the look you gave Cash.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and murmured numbly, “I thought so. But I didn’t want to believe it. And then, when you didn’t say anything...” She closed her eyes, drew in a breath and then looked at him once more. “So. That means, on our wedding night, it wasn’t just time you were talking about. It was...what you knew. You didn’t want me, because of what you knew.” She started shaking her head, her face pale as death through the shadows on the porch.
He took a step toward her. “Tess—”
She backed up, still shaking her head. “You don’t understand. Nobody knows. Nobody was ever going to know....”
“Well. I know.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” She turned away, went to the porch rail, looked out across the yard again, into darkness, into someplace he couldn’t see.
He said, “I guess I’ve made a mistake, to come looking for you in the evenings, to think we could make more of this marriage than it is.”
She said nothing. Her slim back was very straight.
He spoke again. “Look. I meant what I said. We have a good thing. A practical arrangement. I think we should just keep it that way.”
Still, she didn’t speak, only wrapped an arm around the pillar next to her and leaned her cheek against it. He felt alarm, then. Concern for her.
“Tess. Are you all right?”
She waved the hand that wasn’t wrapped around the pillar. “Fine. Just...it’s hard to think t
hat all this time, you’ve known. But I’ll be okay. Really.”
He pushed his concern for her aside. After all, she said she would be okay.
And he wanted to get a few things settled. His desire had died with her admission that she loved his cousin. He wanted it to stay dead. He wanted things back on an even keel. He wanted an understanding between them. And he wanted distance.
“Are you agreed, then? We’ll keep things as they are. We won’t go...stirring things up.” He waited for her reply. When none came, he prompted, “Well?”
She seemed to shake herself. “Yes. Of course. Whatever you say.”
“Good.” As he said the word, he found he hated it. It wasn’t good. Not good at all. But they would manage. It would be...bearable. She would take care of him and the hands and the house. And he would provide for her and Jobeth.
They’d treat each other with respect and civility. And they’d keep clear of each other in any personal sense.
She seemed awfully quiet. He said, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She didn’t answer for a moment. He almost asked again. But then she let out a deep sigh. “I’m fine, Zach. And I’d like to be alone now, please.”
She looked so lonely, standing there, staring into nothingness. Just about as lonely as he felt. He lifted his hand, to touch her, to reassure her.
But then he dropped it. Distance. That was what they’d agreed on. And she’d just asked him to leave her alone.
He said, “Good night, then.”
And she replied, “Yes. Good night.”
Once Zach left, Tess waited long enough for him to get all the way to his room. Then, moving very carefully because her silly legs felt so wobbly, she turned and went inside. She had to keep a firm grip on the bannister all the way up to the second floor..
And when she lay down between the cool sheets, she didn’t close her eyes. She stared into the darkness, hearing Zach’s awful words in her mind, over and over and over again.
I know who’s in your heart, Tess.
She had always taken such comfort from the belief that not a soul had guessed her feelings for Cash. But Zach knew. He had known since before he married her.
The shame...it was burning all through her. So much worse, to think that Zach knew.
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