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Mail-order bridegroom

Page 8

by Day Leclaire


  At the south-eastern tip of the range Hunter stopped by a small stream and dismounted. 'What the hell have your men been doing, Leah?' he asked, disgust heavy in his voice, this place.'

  'Money's been tight,' she protested defensively. 'We don't have a large work crew.'

  Tve got news for you. You don't have a work crew, period. Leastwise they don't seem to be working worth a damn.'

  'A lot of what we've seen isn't their fault, but mine,' she claimed, evading his searching stare. 'I haven't had the time recently to stay on top of everything.'

  Hunter shook his head. 'Not good enough, Leah. Any foreman worth his salt would have caught most of these problems for you.'

  'You told me you wouldn't fire anyone until they'd had an opportunity to prove themselves,' she said, taking a different tack. 'I know things look bad, but give us a chance. Tell us what you want done and we'll do it.'

  He stripped off his gloves and tucked them in his belt. 'What I want is for you to get off that horse and sit down and discuss the situation with me. One way or another we're going to come to a meeting of the minds, and I can't think of a better time or place than right here and now.'

  Still she resisted. 'If we sit under that pecan tree, we'll get ticks.'

  He took off his hat and slapped the dust from the brim. 'Did you last time?'

  So he did remember this spot. She'd wondered if his stopping here had been coincidental or deliberate. Now she knew. She closed her eyes. How much longer would she have to pay? she wondered in despair. When would it be enough? 'I might have found a tick or two,' she finally admitted.

  'Then I'll look you over tonight,' he offered. 'Just to be on the safe side.'

  'Thanks all the same,' she said drily. 'But I'll pass.'

  He held out a hand. * Let's go, Leah. I didn't bring you here to go skinny-dipping again. I brought you here to talk. We'll save a return trip down memory lane for another visit.'

  Reluctantly, she dismounted. 'What do you want to discuss?'

  'The repairs we need to make and your employees,' he stated succinctly.

  'I vote we start with the repairs,' she said. 'Have you gotten the loan? Is that why you plan to replace the barn roof?'

  'And fix up the line-shacks, and restring fence-line and increase the size of the herd. Yes, the loan's taken care of, and we have enough money to put the ranch back on its feet. But it isn't just lack of repairs that contribute to a ranch going downhill.'

  She sank to the grass with a grimace, shifting to one side so he could join her. 'Time to discuss the employees?'

  'Time to discuss the employees. I made a point of meeting most of them before we married.'

  She gave him a direct look. 'Then you know why I hired them.'

  'Leah—'

  'Don't say another thing, Hunter! For once you're going to listen and I'm going to talk.' She fought to find the words to convince him, desperate to protect her workers. 'Not a single one of my employees has been able to find jobs anywhere else. The Arroyas were living out of a station wagon when I found them. Lenny's a veteran who doesn't care to sit around collecting government handouts. And Patrick risked his own life to save a child about to be run down by a drunk driver. He shattered his ankle doing it. A week later he got a pink slip because Lyon Enterprises didn't want to be

  bothered with an employee who might not be able to pull his own weight/

  Hunter shot her a sharp glance. 'He worked for Lyon Enterprises?'

  'He used to be foreman of the Circle P. Bull Jones replaced him/

  'And you took Patrick in.'

  Tve given them all a home,' she acknowledged. Tve given them a life. And, as a result, they earn a living. More importantly, they've regained their self-respect. So their work isn't always perfect. I can assure you that it's the best they're capable of doing. But if you ask for more they'll do everything in their power to give it to you. That's how much working here means to them. They're family. Don't ask me to turn my back on family, because I can't do it.'

  He stared out across the pastureland. 'You always were a sucker for an underdog. I often thought that was what attracted you to me.'

  That's not true.' She stopped, afraid of revealing too much. She'd never seen him as an underdog. A champion, a man of drive and determination, someone filled with an intense passion and strength. But not once had she ever seen him as an underdog.

  His mouth tightened, as though he'd mistakenly allowed her to get too close—revealed too much of himself. 'That still doesn't change the facts. And the facts are that you can't run a ranch without competent help.'

  'Hunter,' she pleaded. 'Give them a fair chance. No more, no less. I swear I won't ask you for anything else.'

  His expression turned skeptical. 'Won't you?'

  'No. I won't. Because saving the ranch isn't worth it to me if I can't save them as well.'

  That caught his attention. 'You'd give up the ranch if it came to a choice between running at a profit or replacing the help?'

  She considered his question at length, a frown creasing her brow. 'I suspect I would/ she admitted at last. 'Because otherwise I'd be no better than Lyon Enterprises. And if I wanted to be like them, I'd have sold out long ago/

  'You're that serious about it?'

  She nodded. 'I'm that serious.'

  It was his turn to consider. Slowly he nodded. 'Okay. We'll do it your way. For now. But I can't make any guarantees about the future. Will that do?'

  'I guess it'll have to,' she said with a shrug.

  'Why don't we swing south next, and inspect that side of the ranch? Then we'll call it a day.*

  'I'm ready,' she claimed, happy to agree now that she'd been granted a reprieve. 'Let's go.'

  He shook his head. 'Not yet. There's just one more thing I want before we head out. And I want it from you.'

  'What?' she asked warily, his tone warning her that she wouldn't like his request.

  'I want you to kiss me.'

  'What?' she repeated in a fainter voice.

  'You heard me. I want a kiss. I'm willing to wait until you're ready before we go any further, but there's no reason we can't enjoy a preview of coming attractions.' He held her with a searing gaze. 'Come on, Leah. It's not a lot to ask.'

  It wasn't, and she knew it. Not giving herself a chance to reconsider, she leaned closer, resting her hands on his chest. She stared up at him, at the features that were almost as familiar as her own. The changes time had wrought were few, more of a strengthening, a fulfill-

  ment of what was once a promise. The lines furrowing his brow and radiating from the corners of his eyes reflected a deepening of character that had come with age and experience.

  Tenderly she cupped his face, exploring anew the taut, high-boned planes of his cheeks. It had been so long, so very long. Slowly, she allowed her fingers to sink into his thick black hair and, tilting her head just slightly, she feathered a soft, teasing kiss across his mouth. She half expected him to grab her, to crush her in his arms and take what he so clearly wanted. But he didn't. He remained perfectly still, allowing her to set the pace.

  She continued to tease, dropping tiny kisses across his jaw and neck before returning to explore his lips. And then she kissed him, really kissed him, the way a woman kissed her man. And for the first time he responded, not with his hands and arms, but wjth his mouth alone, returning her urgent, eager caresses with a mind-drugging thoroughness that left her shaken and defenseless. He had to know how she felt—had to be aware of how much she gave away with that kiss, how her protective barrier lay in total ruin. At long last his arms closed around her, enfolding her in the sweetest of embraces, and she knew in that moment that she'd willingly give him anything he asked.

  How much time passed, Leah wasn't sure. One minute she existed in a sensual haze, secure in his arms, the next Hunter thrust her from him, tumbling her to the ground. In a move so swift that she barely registered it he spun around, crouching protectively in front of her. To her horror, a wickedly curved kn
ife appeared in his hand.

  'You're trespassing, Jones. What's your business here?' Hunter demanded.

  It wasn't until then that Leah noticed the foreman of the Circle P, mounted on a bay, not more than fifteen

  feet away. She hadn't heard his approach. But Hunter had.

  Tell your guard-dog to drop the knife, Leah,' Bull Jones called, his gaze riveted to the glinting length of steel in Hunter's hand. 'Or I'll have to get serious with some buckshot.' His hand inched toward his rifle. 'You comprende what I'm saying, hombrel You have no business threatening me. I'd only be defending myself if I was forced to shoot.'

  The expression in Hunter's eyes burned with unmistakable menace. 'You'll feel the hurting end of this blade long before that Remington clears your scabbard. You comprende me, muchachol Play it smart. Ride out now.'

  For a minute Leah feared that Bull would pull his gun. His hand wavered over the rifle butt for an endless moment, before settling on his thigh. 'Since you're new to the Hampton spread I'll cut you some slack,' he addressed Hunter. 'But nobody threatens me. Ever. Somebody'd better explain that to you pronto, because next time I won't let you off so easy.'

  'Last warning.' The blade quivered in Hunter's hand. 'Ride. Now.'

  'You'll regret this, Leah,' Bull hollered. Swearing beneath his breath, he sawed at his mount's bit and rode off.

  'Oh, God,' Leah moaned, and she began to tremble. In one supple move, Hunter sheathed his knife in his boot and pulled her into his arms.

  'It's okay,' he murmured against the top of her head. 'He's gone.'

  She clung to him, unable to stop shaking, reaction setting in fast and hard. He didn't release her, just stood silently, enveloping her in a tight, inviolable hold. Yet she'd have had him hold her closer if she thought her ribs would stand the strain. Slowly the warmth of his

  body and the strength of his arms calmed her, soothing her terror.

  'He could have shot you,' she whispered, fighting to hold back her tears.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Not a chance. I had him dead to rights and he knew it/ His mouth brushed her cheek, her jaw, her lips. 'It's over, Leah. He's gone/

  She melted against him, needing his touch more desperately than she'd ever needed anything before in her life. As though sensing it, he kissed her. But it wasn't like the passionate embrace they'd shared earlier. This caress was so gentle and tender that it nearly broke her heart.

  'He frightens me, Hunter,' she confessed in a low voice.

  He glanced at the thin cloud of dust disappearing to the south. 'Tell me about him.' It was an order.

  She fought to gather her thoughts enough to give him a coherent answer. 'I've told you most of it. Although I can't prove anything, I suspect he's responsible for our fence-lines being cut. We've had a couple of suspicious stampedes and one or two of the wells have been fouled/ She shrugged. 'That sort of thing/

  'He's the reason this place is so neglected/ It wasn't a question. 'You don't ride out here alone, do you? That's why you haven't seen the problems until now/

  She bowed her head. 'I don't let the others come either,' she admitted. 'Unless they're in a group. I've been terrified of something happening.'

  'Have you reported any of this to Lyon Enterprises?'

  She flashed him a bitter glare. 'Who do you think he's getting his instructions from?'

  'Do you know that for a fact?'

  She whirled free of his arms, anger replacing her fear. *I don't know anything for a fact. If I did, Bull Jones would be in jail and I'd have a nice, fat lawsuit pending against Lyon Enterprises. You married me to get your hands on this ranch, didn't you? If you want to keep it, you're going to have to defend it. Otherwise we both lose.'

  Hunter bent down and retrieved his hat. 'Mount up.'

  She stared in disbelief. 'Now? Just like that? End of discussion?'

  'I want to check the south pasture before dark.'

  'That's the direction Bull took. What if we run into him again?' she asked nervously.

  The brim of his hat threw Hunter's face into shadow, making his expression unreadable. 'Then I'll make a point of introducing myself.'

  She clung to him, checking his move toward his horse. 'Please, Hunter. Can't we go home? We can check the south pasture tomorrow. There's no point in looking for trouble.'

  A humorless smile cut across his face. 'You've got it backward. Seems trouble has come looking for us.' For a minute she thought he'd insist they explore the south pasture. But at long last he nodded. 'Okay. I've seen enough. But tomorrow I ride south.' And with that she had to be satisfied.

  In the study, Hunter lifted the phone receiver and stared at it for a long minute before punching in a series of numbers. After several clicks the call was connected.

  'Kevin Anderson.'

  'It's Hunter. Give me an update.' He listened to the lengthy recitation with a frown and jotted down a few notes. 'Okay. Don't do anything for now. We don't want to tip our hand. The rest can wait until I come in.'

  'Any problems at your end? 5 Kevin asked.

  'You might say that.' Hunter poured himself a shot of whiskey, and downed it in a single swallow. 'I had another run-in with Bull Jones/

  Alarm sounded in Kevin's voice. 'Does he know who you are yet?'

  'Not yet. Our marriage has been kept pretty much under wraps. Not a lot of people know. But Jones could be a problem once he finds out—depending on how much talking he decides to do/

  'What do you want me to do?'

  'Send me his file. Overnight it.'

  'Will do. Then what? You want him... out of the picture?'

  Hunter thought about it, rubbing a weary hand across the back of his neck. 'No. Don't do anything for now. We act too soon and it'll give the whole game away.'

  'Whatever you say. You're the boss.'

  'Thanks, Kevin.'

  Hanging up, Hunter poured a final shot of whiskey and stared at the ceiling. Time to bed down with his beautiful bride. Time to pull that soft, sweet piece of feminine delight into his arms and... sleep. He downed the liquor, praying that it would numb him—at least the parts in dire need of numbing. Patience. He only needed a little more patience. And then that soft, sweet piece of feminine delight would be all his.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Leah slipped from Hunter's arms at the crack of dawn the next morning. This time she kept yesterday's warning firmly in mind, and dressed before going to the kitchen for an apple. Running to the south pasture fence, she whistled for her stallion. But instead of the horse all she found was a white-tailed deer and a family of jack-rabbits who, startled by her sudden appearance, burst across the grassland and disappeared from view. She climbed on to the top rail and waited for a while, but Dreamseeker proved surprisingly elusive.

  Concluding that she'd been stood up in favor of a patch of fresh clover, she bit into the apple. Then she watched as the sun gathered strength, spreading its warm April rays across a nearby field splattered with the vivid purple of bluebonnets and neon-orange of Indian paintbrush. Without question this had to be her favorite time of the day—as well as her favorite season of the year.

  A twig snapped behind her. 'Beautiful, isn't it?' she asked in a conversational tone of voice.

  'Yes.' Hunter folded his arms across the top rail and glanced at her. 'No accusations of sneaking up on you this morning?'

  'You banged the kitchen door.'

  'And stomped across the yard.'

  A tiny grin touched her mouth. 'I almost turned around to look, but you were being so considerate that I didn't want to spoil it.'

  'I appreciate your restraint,' he said, with a touch of wry humor. 'Your horse hasn't shown up yet?'

  She frowned, tossing her apple core into the meadow. 'He didn't answer my whistle. But if we're exploring the south pasture we're bound to come across him. Ready to go?' She vaulted off the fence, wanting to get Hunter's inspection tour over and done with. Perhaps if they made an early start they'd avoid Bull Jones.

&nbs
p; 'No. I'm not ready.' He caught her arm, tugging her to a standstill. 'Not quite yet.'

  'Why?' she asked in apprehension. 'Is there something wrong?'

  'You might say that.' His hold lightened, though he didn't release her. 'You were gone again this morning.'

  She bridled at the hint of censure in his voice. She'd agreed to sleep with him without too much argument; surely he didn't intend to choose which hours that would encompass. If so, he'd soon learn differently. 'Is that a problem?'

  'Yes. I don't like it. Tomorrow you start the day in my arms.'

  She eased from his grip and a took a quick step back, something in his expression filling her with a discomfiting awareness. 'What difference does it make if I'm there or not?' she asked.

  Her question seemed to amuse him. 'If you wake me tomorrow, you'll learn the difference.'

  She didn't doubt it for a minute. But that didn't mean she'd go along. 'I'll consider it,' she conceded. 'But I like having mornings to myself.'

  'You'll have other times to yourself,' he informed her. 'I want time alone with you. All marriages need privacy... intimacy.'

  Understanding dawned and she fought to breathe normally. So the moment of truth had finally arrived. If she read his request correctly, tomorrow morning she'd fulfill her duties as his wife and make their marriage a

  real, fully functioning union—no matter how much she wanted to resist. No matter how much that final act alarmed her. That was what she'd committed herself to when they'd exchanged their vows, and that was what she'd soon have to face. If only the thought didn't fill her with dread—dread that she'd couldn't keep a small part of herself safe from his possession; dread that when he took her body he'd take her heart as well.

  'All right,' she said at last. 'Mornings can be our time.'

 

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