***
Two days later, Rusty took the plate Rachel handed him, loaded down with sausage, eggs, hot cakes and potatoes. The line for breakfast moved fast, as always, the cowboys filling up for a long morning of hard work.
Rusty studied her as he chewed. Her face was flushed from her work, brown ringlets plastered to her neck. She used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Once in a while she would glance up at him and offer a shy smile, which went straight to his gut.
They hadn’t had time yet to have a real conversation, with his duties and hers. Plus Will had come down with a sore throat and slight fever, so Rachel’s free time was spent in nursing her child. The more he dwelled on the change in their relationship, the more he was convinced the next step was the right one.
He would ask Rachel to marry him.
Now that he had a future—a place of his own—he could consider settling down with a wife and family. That thought no longer caused him to break into a sweat. Rachel was a loving, sensual woman. He’d only tapped the surface of her passion, and looked forward to many years of discovering all the secret places that aroused her. It would be an enticing journey.
“Hey, darlin’, how about making some time for us tonight?” He squatted next to her and spoke softly into her ear as she sat behind the serving table fanning herself with the lower half of her apron.
“Will isn’t feeling too well just yet. His throat is worse, and I’m thinking about running into town to pick up some medicine from the doctor once I clean up from breakfast. Mac said he would do the noon meal for me.”
He frowned and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “Who’s going with you? I don’t want you traveling by yourself.”
“Lefty has some business in town, and said he would drive the wagon for me. Big Bob asked me to pick up a few things for Mrs. Richardson at the mercantile while I’m there.”
“I don’t know that I like the idea of my woman going off to town with another man.” His smile didn’t quite make it.
“Oh, don’t be silly. Lefty is old enough to be my grandfather.”
He had to shake off this distrust of women. She was right, Lefty was old enough to be her grandfather, with a withered, lined face and several missing teeth.
His smile a bit more natural now, he said, “That sounds like a good idea. But save some time for me tonight.” Since the last cowboy had left the room, he touched her gently on her cheek before heading out to his day’s work.
He and Rachel felt so right. Amelia was crazy about her, and Will looked up to him as a son would. One day they would have children of their own, live in the large ranch house, and grow old together. For the first time since Beatrice’s betrayal, he felt confident about a woman.
The rest of the morning passed with Rusty whistling so much, one of the cowboys said if he didn’t stop he would pull out his gun and shoot him. He grinned in the man’s direction and tugged on the brim of his hat. It was hard to hide happiness.
Once he finished his noon meal, he checked on Will, who was fast asleep, cool to his touch. Amelia was busy helping Mac clean up, and with the men finishing up the chores for the day, Rusty decided to ride into town. Maybe catch Rachel and tell her the good news of Will’s fever having broken and talk her into dinner at the hotel.
He quickly washed up, changed his clothes and headed into town.
The hot summer sun had taken its toll on him by the time he arrived in front of the livery. He swung down from his horse and rubbed him with a cloth, leaving him with a bag of oats and a couple of coins to the stable boy. Then he headed to the mercantile to buy a bottle of pop from Mrs. Wells, taking a few minutes to drink it down and wipe the sweat from his face.
He leaned against the side of the building, his knee bent, one booted foot against the wall. He surveyed the area, trying to decide where to search for Rachel first. Mrs. Wells had told him Rachel had been in earlier and mentioned heading to the Café for a cup of tea.
Just as he pushed himself away from the wall, Rachel exited the Café across the street. He had to look twice to make sure it was her because she and another man strolled from the door toward the hotel, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. They didn’t seem to have a care in the world, and had eyes for no one else except each other. She looked up at the man and broke into laughter at something he said. Even from where he stood, he could see the relaxed attitude of her and the man. They were close. Very close.
Rusty’s mouth dried up and he felt as though someone had kicked him in the gut. Another unscrupulous woman. He’d been right. No woman could be trusted. That had been a nice little act she’d pulled—the solid, dependable, caring mother. A virtuous woman who shied away from relationships with men because of her son.
Damnation! He’d been fooled again. Would he never learn? How many times did he have to be kicked in the teeth before the lesson sunk in?
Rage started in his belly and raced to set his heart pumping. Well, this was one time he wouldn’t walk away. He would confront Rachel and her lover and let her know she didn’t fool him one bit.
He strode to the hotel, flinging the front door open so hard it bounced against the wall, startling two older men reading a newspaper in the lobby. Rusty ate up the distance to the front desk. “Where did the woman who just entered here go?”
Maybe he was mistaken, and they had entered the hotel dining room, and this was all an innocent encounter.
The desk clerk frowned. “You mean Mrs. Stevens?”
“Yes.”
He nodded toward the staircase. “She went up to Mr. Henderson’s room with him.”
“Is that right? What room is Mr. Henderson in?”
“Two-oh six.”
Rusty nodded and took the stairs two at a time. Marching down the narrow hallway, he found ‘two-oh-six’ and banged on the door with his fist.
The man he’d seen Rachel with opened the door, a welcoming smile on his face. Rachel stood not too far behind him, her brows raised in question.
Before he could think of anything to say, Rusty pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into the man’s mouth.
Chapter Ten
“Rusty!” Rachel shouted and raced to the man who sat on the floor, his hand covering his jaw. “What are you doing?”
She bent down on one knee and turned to glare at Rusty, while he flexed his fingers. Damn, the man had a hard jaw.
“What am I doing? What am I doing? What the hell are you doing in this man’s room?”
“I don’t know what you think you’re accusing me of, but I certainly don’t like your attitude.”
Rusty widened his stance and rested his hands on his hips. “My attitude? You’re just another lying, cheating woman. As soon as my back is turned, you’re in a hotel room with—”
“My brother!” Her eyes flashed and her lips tightened. She jumped up and rounded on him, poking him in the chest with her index finger. “Do you think I’m that kind of a woman? That I would allow you to take me to bed, and then hie off with another man? Is that what you think of me?”
Her brother rose and grabbed Rachel’s shoulder, pulling her behind him. “He took you to his bed?” He swung at Rusty and caught him in his jaw, knocking him to his knees. “How dare you put your hands on my sister!”
Rachel stepped between the two of them, her hand on her brother’s chest. “Stop. Both of you. This is ridiculous.”
Rusty got up from the floor and rubbed his jaw. “My intentions were honorable,” he mumbled.
“Is that right?” her brother snarled. “Well they had better be because I’ll have my aunt and uncle planning the wedding reception damned soon.”
“Michael,” Rachel snapped. “There will be no wedding. Not now, not ever.”
Michael regarded her, his stance threatening. “What does that mean? He said his intentions were honorable.” He nodded in Rusty’s direction. “And who the hell is he, anyway?”
Rachel sniffed and lifted her chin. “No one impor
tant, I can assure you. But, for your information, this is Rusty McIntyre, the foreman at Lazy Sunset Ranch.” She grabbed her brother’s arm. “And this, Mr. McIntyre, is my brother, Michael Henderson.”
The man really was her brother. Now that he had time to calm down, it was very obvious they were siblings. The snap of their eyes and the tightened jaw said it all. If there had been a hole to crawl into, he’d be long gone. “Rachel, please. Let’s just talk. I’ll drive the wagon back to the ranch.” He reached out his hand.
She ignored it and walked to the lone dresser between two windows. “How dare you even suggest that? Absolutely not. I’m getting the medicine I asked my brother, the pharmacist to mix up for Will. Then I’ll say goodbye to my brother, the pharmacist, who is staying in this room while his wife and daughter visit her parents because it’s closer to his place of business, and then I’m going home.”
Lord, the girl looked mad. Her eyes flashed and her body was rigid as a wooden fence stake. No hint of the soft, loving woman in his arms two nights ago. Had she not been a lady, he was sure she would have slugged him worse than her brother had.
If possible, he loved her more right then, every inch of that fire-breathing, righteous woman.
“Lefty and I drove the wagon here, and we will drive it home. You, Mr. McIntyre, can return to the ranch by whatever means you used to get here. Furthermore, in the future please do not talk to me, or address me, as anything except Mrs. Stevens.”
She tucked the small brown bottle of medicine into the pocket of her dress. Then she leaned up to kiss Michael on the cheek. “Thank you, Michael. I’m sorry for all the trouble. Kiss Heidi and the baby for me when she returns.”
Without another word, she stalked past Rusty, hugging her skirts close to her body to avoid touching him. The sound of the door closing broke the silence as the two men stared at each other.
“I have no idea what is going on between the two of you, but after what I’ve heard, you better get it straightened out,” Michael growled. “I meant it when I said there would be a wedding soon. My sister is a respectable woman. I won’t have her reputation ruined. She has a son to think about.”
Rusty ran his fingers through his hair. “I am aware of your sister’s reputation, and believe me, I have no intention of having it destroyed. I had planned to ask Rachel to marry me.”
Michael shook his head. “It seems to me you have a long way to go before she’ll consent to marry you. Right now I wouldn’t bet a penny on your chances of even talking to her, let alone keeping her from throwing something at your head before you can get the words out.”
He pointed his finger at Rusty. “But whatever it takes, you get her to the altar. And knowing my sister as I do, you have a long haul ahead of you.”
“I made a huge error.”
Michael grunted. “Understatement of the year.”
“She’s your sister. Tell me what I can do to make this right.”
“Sorry, buddy. You’re on your own with this one. No woman likes to think the man she’s in love with doesn’t trust her.”
“In love?”
Michael shrugged into his jacket. “I doubt very much she would have reacted that way if she had no feelings. Now if you will excuse me, it’s past time to open up the pharmacy from my lunch break.” He opened the door and ushered Rusty out.
They descended the stairs together, and once they reached the boardwalk outside the hotel, Michael tugged on the brim of his hat. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”
***
Rachel climbed up alongside Lefty and settled her skirts on the wagon seat. “I’m ready.”
Shifting a wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other, Lefty snapped the reins and the horses moved forward.
How dare that man accuse her of being in a hotel room with another man for nefarious purposes! She brushed the tear away from the dirt that must have gotten into her eye. Well, what did she expect, getting involved with a man? She knew from the start it wasn’t a good idea, and now it had come home to roost.
Drat the dirt flying around. Her eyes were leaking like mad. She fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief.
“Are you all right, Miss Rachel?”
She attempted a smile at the older man. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Or I will be fine, once I rid myself of the baggage that’s been following me around for weeks.
She blew her nose and lifted her chin. She didn’t need Rusty McIntyre. She didn’t need any man. She and her son were doing quite well without anyone else, thank you very much.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to Lefty. “Did you take care of your business?”
“Sure did, ma’am.” He spit a stream of juice.
She nodded and fished around for something else to say. Certainly there was something of interest to share with her seat mate. Something to keep her mind off the snake—whose horse had just ridden up . . .
Rusty tipped his hat. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Stevens, Lefty.”
“Howdy, boss.” Lefty nodded.
Rachel turned her back on Rusty to enjoy the captivating scenery before her. Dried grass, animal droppings, and rutted muddy roads took her full attention.
If Lefty thought anything odd was occurring between Rachel and Rusty, he gave no indication of it. He continued to chomp on his wad of tobacco and stared straight ahead, lost in thought.
Finally the awkward position she’d put herself into forced her to face forward. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rusty holding back his horse to keep pace with their wagon. The horse shook his head in disgust.
Rachel turned once more to Lefty. “So, you managed to get your business taken care of?”
He looked at her with raised brows. “Yes, ma’am, just like I said a few minutes ago.”
“Oh.” She turned to glare at Rusty when he chuckled.
Never mind, he could be invisible as far as she was concerned. Any man who would accuse her of such behavior after what they’d shared was not worth her time or trouble. He was merely the foreman of the ranch where she worked as a cook.
Rusty slowed down and once the wagon passed, rode up on Lefty’s side. “Hey, Lefty. Suppose you let me drive the wagon, and you take my horse?”
“No.” Rachel grabbed Lefty’s arm and hung on. She leaned over Lefty and scowled at Rusty. “Mr. McIntyre, please leave us alone.” She waved at the road. “Just ride your horse home.”
“Is something wrong, ma’am?” Lefty spit once more, barely missing Rusty’s shoe.
“Not at all. Just continue to drive on. We’ll pretend Mr. McIntyre is not there.”
Lefty shrugged and moved his tobacco from one cheek to the other. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”
The group rode along in silence, broken only by the sound of horse’s hooves and the squeak of the wagon wheel turning. Rachel wavered between bouts of anger and more road dust in her eyes. To think she imagined a future with that man. She must have been out of her mind.
Never would she want to tie herself up with someone who accused her of such horrible things.
***
“But why can’t I ride with Mr. McIntyre today, Ma?” Will crossed his arms over his chest, his stance so much like Rusty’s that Rachel knew her decision to keep her son and that man apart was for the best.
Three days had passed since the debacle in town. She and Rusty had not spoken more than a few words to each other, and then only when necessary. He tried several times to talk to her, but she always found something to occupy her attention.
“You won’t be able to ride much longer with him anyway. It’s getting close to time for school to start. I want you to spend more time with your schoolbooks.”
A sharp rap on the front door drew their attention. Rusty opened the door and smiled in her direction. “Good morning, Mrs. Stevens.”
“Morning,” she mumbled as she moved to the sink and began washing dishes.
Rusty moved further into the kitchen and tugged on the brim of Will’s hat. “You
ready to ride, partner?”
“Ma?” Will pleaded with his eyes.
Why did the man continue to plague her so? She wanted nothing to do with him, didn’t want her son to have anything to do with him. Her heart hurt too much. She closed her eyes and sighed. “What about your schoolwork?”
“I’ll do it tonight. I promise.” He waited all of two seconds before he added, “So can I go?”
Unable to speak the words, she merely nodded.
“Yippee!”
“Will, wait for me in the stable, I want to talk to your ma.” Why his voice—deep and seductive—still had the capability of setting her heart to fluttering, and rendering her senseless angered her. Which was better. Anger she could handle.
Once Will slammed out of the house, she whirled around, arms crossed under her breasts. “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. McIntyre.”
He took off his hat, tugging on his hair, then placed it back on his head, tugging the brim over one eye. Her heart flutters turned to thumps as if it would choke her.
“I have quite a bit to say to you.”
She swept past him, headed to the parlor. “I’m not interested.”
He grabbed her by the shoulder and swung her around, encircling her with his arms, the warmth from his body a torturous prison. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
“Fine, if you can’t begin, then let me go.”
“Rachel—”
“Mrs. Stevens to you.”
“Darlin’ I know I was wrong and said some awful things. My lack of trust is—”
“Is your problem.”
“I know it’s my problem, and I know I can get over it. Just don’t turn away from me. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
She shook her head. “It’s too late. If you don’t trust me, then I can’t trust you. It’s very simple, really.”
“I can trust you. I do trust you.”
She leaned back and regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Really? Then what was that scene in the hotel room all about?”
He released her and paced. “You must admit it did look a bit suspicious.”
“See, that’s what I mean! If you trusted me, nothing would look suspicious. You would assume whatever was going on was completely innocent. But instead, you focused on the worst.”
A Chance to Love Again Page 9
