Another Dawn

by Sandra Brown

  Jake, Jake, Jake.

  Why wouldn't he leave her mind? Why couldn't she forget his sweetness as he tended her, his soft voice, the touch of his hands, the taste of his lips? She had no pride. Her body yearned for him even as her mind rejected him. Why was she so stupid as to go on loving him when she should despise him?

  She bent at the waist and reached into the basket for a garment, wincing as she stood up too quickly and pulled at the tender flesh surrounding her scar. She laid the petticoat over the line and held her hands there, resting, drawing in deep breaths to ward off the fatigue which would weigh her down into immobility if she surrendered to it.

  Of course she had wondered about the cessation of her monthly periods. She had dismissed it as being due to the stress she had been under after the wedding and the exhaustion of moving to her own ranch and setting up her household. That she was carrying Jake's child had never occurred to her.

  But as though to prove to her it was real, her pregnancy had begun to make itself manifest now that it had been acknowledged. Her shortness of breath and debilitating lassitude weren't only remnants of the surgery or the aftereffects of ether. Sometimes she was rocked by waves of dizziness.

  As now...

  TWENTY-FOUR

  "What the hell was that?"

  The three men, occupied with notching the ear of a cow for identification, straightened from their task. They froze, while the cow wrested herself free of their loose ropes. Randy had spoken aloud the question uppermost in their minds.

  "Sounded like three pistol shots," Pete offered.

  "It was." Jake started running toward Stormy, tethered just outside the fence. He scrambled under the barbed wire. When he noticed the others were right behind him, he said, "Stay here. The shots are coming from the house. If Jim or I aren't back in five minutes, one of you cross the river and fetch some riders from River Bend, the other sneak up to the house and see what's going on."

  He vaulted into the saddle and spurred the stallion into a gallop. Only a few minutes earlier he had sent Jim to the barn for some pliers. Were the gunshots a summons for help? Had something happened to Banner?

  The thought thundered through his mind with each of Stormy's hoofbeats on the turf. The worst possibility was realized when he rode into the yard. The older cowboy was bending over a prostrate form beneath the clothesline. Jake was off Stormy's back and running before the horse had come to a complete standstill.

  "What happened?"

  "Don't know, Jake. I seen her a'lyin' like this when I come out of the barn. She sure looks poorly. I fired the pistol to git you here quick."

  "You did the right thing," Jake said, relieved that the gunshots had only been a signal. He knelt on the ground, his chaps stretching over his knees. "Banner?" He put one hand behind her head and raised it slightly. "Get some water." Jim rushed to do his bidding.

  Jake was struck by how pale she looked. There were dark violet smudges beneath the fans of her eyelashes. He remembered his mother's warning. Banner wasn't supposed to be doing any hard work. Why the hell had she taken it into her mule head to do the wash?

  When Jim returned with a pail of cold well water, Jake dipped his hand in it and sprinkled it over Banner's face. Her eyes fluttered and she moaned slightly. He sprinkled her again. This time she lifted the back of her hand to her face and brushed the droplets away.

  "She's comin' 'round," Jim said.

  Her eyes struggled open. Then she squinted against the bright sunlight that fell on her face. "What happened?"

  The iron ring of panic around Jake's heart eased its pressure. "She's all right," he said to Jim. "Just fainted I guess. Ride back and tell the others before they rouse the whole countryside."

  Jim left them. Jake placed an arm under Banner's knees, another behind her back and lifted her against his chest.

  "I can walk."

  "You couldn't crawl."

  "Put me down."

  "No."

  "I'm all right now."

  "Shut up," Jake growled down at her.

  "Don't talk to me like that."

  "I'll talk to you any damn way I please."

  When they reached the porch, he set her down, then pushed her lightly into the rocker, which had been left there for her. He wasted no time, but launched right in. "Why the hell were you out here in the sun doing the wash?"

  "I needed some clean clothes."

  "You couldn't wait and ask me to wash them tonight?"

  "No, I wouldn't ask anything of you."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't want to be beholden to you. I don't want your pity! I can take care of myself."

  "And the ranch? And the baby?"

  Her chin went up a notch. "If I have to."

  He cursed beneath his breath, then pointed an imperious finger at her. "Now you listen to me, young lady, and you listen good. You're a spoiled brat. Stubborn as a mule. Headstrong. Reckless. And proud. But this is one argument you lose, Banner. We're getting married. You fainted today, for godsakes. You might do it again. The hands'll start to talk and your surgery will be an excuse for only so long." He paused to draw a bream. "Pretty soon someone will figure it out. And what about when you start showing? What did you plan to do then?"

  Her lip had begun to tremble. "I'll think of something," she said bravely.

  "You won't have to. Because by then we'll be married." His eyes took on a fierce, possessive light. "And as your husband, I'll kill any man who breathes a bad word against you."

  He pulled himself up to his full height and said sternly, "Now go put on whatever frock you want to get married in, because we're going into town. Today. That's all there is to it. And one more thing," he said, punching the air with his finger, "if you ever smack me again the way you did the other day, there'll be hell to pay."

  "Do you love me, Jake?"

  Her soft question took all the starch out of him. His posture wilted. His eyes warmed. The firm lines around his mouth softened appreciably. He came down on one knee in front of the rocker and covered her hands with his, mindless of the leather work gloves he still wore.

  He shook his head, chuckling softly. "If I didn't love you, how the hell could I put up with you the way I do?"

  She fought a battle with a smile and lost. "If I based my acceptance solely on the proposals, I should have accepted Grady's. His was much more romantic and flattering." She reached down and took off his hat. Her fingers combed through the hair as white as moonlight. "He came courting me with flowers and candy, telling me how pretty I was. He said God had robbed heaven of one of its angels when He sent me to earth."

  Jake was skeptical. "That jackass said all that?"

  "Words to that effect."

  He studied her face. He caught the middle finger of his glove between his teeth and pulled it off, then laid his hand against her wan cheek. When he spoke, his voice was vibrating with emotion.

  "You know I think you're pretty. You're more woman than I deserve. I love sharing a bed with you. For the first time in my life that means something. I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up with you lying beside me. I want to see you nursing my baby."

  He leaned forward and kissed her breast softly, then pressed his face into the soft fullness. Moving his head down, he nuzzled her lap. "I couldn't believe it when the doc told me. I was so worried I was going to lose you, I couldn't even think about the baby. But later, when I sat with you while you were sleeping, I'd think about him and get to feeling so warm and mushy on the inside I'd want to cry.

  "I never thought I'd have a kid of my own. If he's a boy I hope he takes after Luke. And if it's a girl, well, I'd kill any sonofabitch that did to her what I've done to you." He kissed her stomach lingeringly, then raised his eyes to her face.

  "I'm not very good husband material, Banner. I haven't got anything to offer you. But I'm willing to break my back to make something of this place for us and our baby. Now if you're willing to take a saddle tramp on those terms, you'll be Mrs. Jacob L
angston by nightfall."

  His words were poetry. They fell on Banner's ears like the lyrics to the sweetest love song. She should take him now so he wouldn't have time to reconsider, but her pride wouldn't let her.

  "You're not just marrying me because of the baby, are you? I don't want a martyr sitting across the hearth from me on a cold winter's night, Jake, miserable because he isn't out carousing with his cowboy friends."

  "Do you know one red-blooded man who would rather be out carousing with his cowboy friends than going to bed with Banner Coleman?" His teasing worked to soften the frown between her brows, but he answered her seriously. "No, Banner. It's not because of the baby."

  He ducked his head with an endearing shyness. "To tell you the truth, I'm glad I've got the baby as an excuse for us getting married. I had given some thought to the idea, but it seemed impossible."

  She slid from the chair onto her knees so that she was kneeling with him on the porch. "Jake, I love you so much."

  They kissed, lightly at first, testing their truce. Then the desire that seemed an ever-present, living, and vital part of them, urged their mouths to meld with heat.

  When at last Jake pulled away, he smiled down at her.

  "Go do whatever a bride should do before her wedding. I'll tell the men we're going into town."

  "How long do I have?"

  "Half an hour."

  Banner dashed into the house to wash and dress. It was while she was brushing her hair that she realized he hadn't actually professed to love her.

  * * *

  "Where are we going?"

  "Just sit pretty, will you Mrs. Langston? I want to show you something." They were in the wagon.

  Jake was driving. He was taking a different route home.

  "A surprise?"

  "Consider it a wedding present."

  "I already have one," she said, proudly holding up her left hand on which Jake had placed a thin gold ring when the preacher had called for it. "When did you get it?"

  "The same day I got the license."

  "You certainly were confident that I'd say yes."

  "Hopeful," he countered, and leaned over to plant a soft kiss on his bride's parted lips. He groaned when he felt the warm, wet touch of her tongue on his lips. "Have you no shame?"

  "Not where you're concerned. I never have." She pondered the scenery for a moment. "I guess I'm no better than Wanda Burns."

  Jake's head swiveled around. "I ought to paddle your butt for comparing yourself to her!"

  "It's true. She was having a baby with a man she wasn't married to. So was I. What's the difference?"

  "There are hundreds of them," he shouted. "You were with only one man. That's the main difference."

  The fight went out of her. It was too lovely a day and she was too happy to argue. Banner snuggled against his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. "Yes, I was with only one man. And I must have already loved you when I came to the barn that night. Otherwise, I never could have done that."

  "I'm glad I was available," he whispered into her ear before kissing it.

  Moments later he pulled the horse to a halt in front of an arch made of two stout tree trunks joined by a crossbar at their tops. The arch bridged the road leading to her house. They hadn't come this way on the trip to town so she hadn't seen it earlier.

  "What is this?"

  "The surprise."

  When she would have jumped from the wagon with her usual exuberance, Jake rushed to lift her down. "You'll have to be careful from now on, sweetheart." She thrilled to the way his dark hand moved to her stomach and pressed lightly. He kissed her mouth gently while his fingers caressed the place where his baby slept. The warm sensations were still dancing in her body as he ended the kiss and led her beneath the arch, then turned so she could gaze back at it.

  "Jake!" She clapped her hands over her mouth. Tears sprang into her eyes. Branded into the wood of the crossbar were the words plum creek ranch. '' You changed your mind about the name?"

  "No," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "I still think it's a damn silly name for a cattle ranch."

  "Then why? I can't believe you went to all this trouble."

  With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. "I wanted to do one thing that would make you happy, one thing that would make you smile instead of cry. I've brought you a lot of misery, unintentionally, but misery just the same. For once I wanted to make you happy."

  She fell into his arms. Had he not been so strong they would have toppled backward. His arms went around her and hugged her possessively. He buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply of her perfume which smelled like jasmine and sunshine. They held each other for a long, quiet while before he set her away.

  "Should we picnic out of the basket that preacher's wife fixed us?"

  She nodded her head eagerly and watched as he led the horse off the road and stationed the wagon under a tree. Reaching beneath the seat, he took down the basket. "How did you bribe her into doing that?" Banner wanted to know.

  Jake had wisely sought out the minister of a country church outside Larsen. If he had consulted the pastor of the church where the Colemans were members, word would have spread like wildfire and Ross and Lydia would have known about the wedding before he was ready for them to know. Thankfully the pastor hadn't recognized him or Banner and had been only too glad to officiate.

  His stout wife had played the organ while his spinster daughter acted as witness. As they left, the wife had handed him a basket and blessed him with best wishes for a long and happy life.

  "I didn't bribe her. I think she just liked my looks," he said arrogantly as he located an area of thick, soft summer clover beneath a grove of pecan trees. Honeysuckle and pine scented the air. A mild south breeze and the shade provided by the sprawling branches of the trees warded off the heat.

  "Are you talking about the wife or the daughter?" Banner quipped tartly. "She was looking at you with covetous calf eyes."

  "I didn't notice. I was looking at you."

  He dropped on to the clover and pulled her down beside him. He didn't even give her time to regain her balance before pushing her into a reclining position. His lips moved hotly and surely over hers. His tongue stoked passionately, evocatively. He massaged her breast gently.

  Beneath him, Banner moved, restless and wanting. When he sat up, she complained with a whine, "Jake, come back."

  "If I tumble you here in the clover you'll mess up your pretty dress."

  Sighing discontentedly, she let him pull her to a sitting position. She yanked off her hat and tossed it aside. "I don't care about my dress."

  He tweaked her nose. "Then you haven't grown up much. I remember when every dress you owned was missing a button, or had a tear, or had its hem straggling down."

  She laughed as she took the pins from her hair and let the coil on the back of her head free itself into a cascade of ebony waves and curls. "I kept Ma's mending needle busy, but it's unchivalrous of you to remember."

  The basket that had been so graciously prepared for them proved to be filled with goodies—slices of smoked ham, a loaf of oven-warmed bread, a jar of plum jam, and fresh peach tarts, the pastry of which was so flaky they licked the crumbs from their fingers.

  As Jake sucked the crusty flecks from his fingertips, he said, "You look like a buttercup sitting there."

  She had worn a yellow dress as pastel and soft as the flower he compared her to. "Thank you, husband."

  How could she ever have imagined herself to be in love with a man like Grady, any man for that matter, when Jake Langston walked the earth? He was tall and lanky, all lean muscle and sinew. He moved with the loose-jointed, hip-rolling saunter of his profession, but beneath that indolence lay a dormant power that made her shiver with expectation.

  His brows, almost bleached white by heredity and years in the sun, shielded the world from eyes so blue it was sometimes sweetly painful to gaze into them. She loved every weather-etched line in his face, his st
rength of character, even his stubbornness.

  Watching him, she sighed languorously.

  "Tired?" She shook her head. "Ready to go home?"

  "Not necessarily,"

  Smiling, he propped his back against the tree trunk. "Lie down." He pulled her head into his lap. It was summertime. They were warm, but not hot. They had just eaten a delicious meal and were pleasantly full. Bees buzzed nearby in a thicket of honeysuckle. The breeze unambitiously stirred the leaves of the tree. Clouds as white and puffy as cottonballs drifted in idle suspension.

  The two lovers surrendered to their lassitude, but were far too aware of each other to be sleepy. Banner's thick hair was spread across his lap like a black silk mantle. Her breasts rose and fell with each quiet breath. Jake's index finger adoringly charted the planes of her face.

  "I should go home and get back to work, but I'm lazy," he confessed.

  "I'm seriously considering firing you."

  He smiled, then whispered. "Your gorgeous, Banner Coleman." He bent down to kiss her.

  Just before his lips captured hers, she corrected him. "Banner Langston."

  He kissed her with unleashed passion, letting his tongue plunder her mouth. Her arms crept up to encircle his neck and, as she urged his head down closer, she arched up to meet him.

  Unfastening only a few of the buttons on her bodice, he shifted the material until the tip of her breast rose up to him like the center of a delectable flower from its cushion of sheer batiste, lace, and satin ribbon.

  "You sweet, sweet girl." He caressed with his fingertips. Then his lips. Then his tongue. Softly, Erotically. Wetly.

  Banner whimpered with animal pleasure and twisted her head with sublime agitation.

  Suddenly Jake's head came up. His back pressed rigidly against the trunk of the tree while his head ground the bark beneath it to powder. Moaning in protest that he had stopped, Banner turned her face into his lap.