Wild Texas Flame

by Janis Reams Hudson

She could hear the girls chattering in their rooms as Katy helped Rachel and Amy get dressed. There was no sound from Ash’s room.

  “Five minutes, girls,” she called.

  Sunny set the jar of strawberry jam on the table and heard the front door creak. Heavy footsteps crossed the parlor.

  Who on earth…

  “Ash!” Sunny put a hand to her chest. “You frightened me. I didn’t know you were outside.”

  Hearing someone come through her front door at the gray crack of dawn wasn’t the only thing that frightened her, however. The spark of anger in his eyes sent her heart pounding. “What is it? What’s wrong?” And where are your crutches? she wanted to ask. But she bit her tongue on the words. Just yesterday she had insisted he give them up. He didn’t need them any longer. He doesn’t need you any longer, either. A sharp pain stabbed her in the region of her heart.

  “Where are your men?” Ash demanded.

  Sunny blinked. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He stepped closer. It was all she could do to keep from retreating from the glare in his eyes. “Where are your men?”

  “They’re out on the range. They left about a half hour ago.”

  “What for?”

  “Ash—”

  “What for?”

  “We’re starting the roundup today.”

  He took another step forward. His face looked like it had yesterday at the creek, like it was carved from stone.

  “Ash—”

  “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. “You knew before you came to my room last night that I couldn’t leave today.”

  Couldn’t leave?

  “Good morning.”

  Sunny jumped at the sound of Katy’s voice.

  Ash stiffened. “We’ll finish this later,” he said.

  Katy, Rachel, and Amy took their seats at the table as if nothing were wrong. Maybe they hadn’t heard what Ash said about her going to his room last night. She prayed they hadn’t heard. It had been the most glorious night of her life, but the girls were too young to understand. She wouldn’t know what to say to them.

  Ash took his seat, his blue eyes cold and flat. What was wrong? Why was he so angry? What did her men being gone have to do with anything?

  Her knees nearly gave out before she made it to her chair.

  Sunny tried her best to avoid Ash’s glare, to act normal and eat her breakfast. Each bite of food fell like lead to the bottom of her stomach.

  The sound of chairs scraping the floor made her flinch. The girls were finished eating. Out of habit, Sunny glanced out the kitchen window to check the weather. “Better take your slickers,” she told the girls. “The sky looks like rain.”

  While the girls gathered their things for school, Sunny went outside to hitch their pony to the cart that carried them back and forth each day. Ash followed her, but didn’t offer to help. He was obviously still angry. She ignored him and finished what she was doing.

  The tender glow left over from the night before had faded. Ash had destroyed it, tarnishing what should have been the most precious memory of her life. She had to concentrate hard to keep her lips from trembling.

  “As soon as I clean up the dishes,” she said, holding the eager pony still with a hand on his neck, “I’ll hitch up the team and take you to town.”

  “The hell you will.”

  The front door slammed. The girls were coming. Sunny couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t question him. She and Ash ignored each other while the girls climbed into the cart and headed for school.

  “Bye, Sunny! Bye, Ash!” they called.

  Sunny waved. She watched until the girls were out of sight around the bend.

  She dreaded facing Ash. What could have happened to set off his temper? How could he have changed from her fiercely tender lover of the night into this angry stranger who stood beside her?

  She turned to him. “All right,” she said, picking up their earlier conversation. “If you don’t want to wait while I do the dishes, we can go right now.”

  His hands bunched into fists at his sides. “I can’t go to town now and you know it. You did this on purpose, just to keep me here.”

  “What on earth are you talking about? I just said I’d take you to town, didn’t I?”

  “You know damn well I can’t leave you and the girls here alone when your men will be gone for days.”

  “Well I don’t know why not.” She plopped her hands on her hips. “We’re used to taking care of ourselves. We’ve stayed here alone a hundred times.”

  “You never had Baxter breathing down your neck before, either.”

  Sunny paused. Ash had a point. But would Baxter really try to harm her? She doubted it.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Ash said. “The thing you have to remember is, he’s already killed once trying to get this place. Now the only thing standing in his way is you.”

  Sunny shook her head. “He wouldn’t. Not after I’ve spread the word that he’s pressing me for money.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Sunny. You want the girls to come home from school some day and find you at the bottom of the cellar steps with that pretty little neck of yours broken?”

  Sunny gasped and clutched a hand to her throat.

  “‘What a tragic accident,’ everyone will say. The girls will be split up among the neighbors and Ian Baxter will own this ranch before you’re cold in your grave.”

  The visions his words evoked made her stomach roll over. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. “Are you trying to scare me?”

  “Yes!”

  “Why?”

  “To make you realize you’re not safe out here alone. Not any more.”

  Was he right? If so, she’d be a fool to ignore his warning. What should she do?

  Either she had spoken her last question aloud, or Ash read her mind again, for he answered her. “We’ll hitch up the wagon and ride after your men, bring two or three of them back here.”

  “But what about the roundup? They’ll be shorthanded. It’ll take them forever.”

  “To hell with the roundup. Haven’t you been listening to me?”

  “How could I help it? You’re practically shouting.”

  “I am not shouting,” he said, his voice rising in volume.

  “If I don’t get a herd to Kansas, I’ll lose this ranch, and Baxter will get it anyway. No. I won’t pull men away from the roundup.”

  A muscle ticked along Ash’s jaw. “What’s more important? The ranch, or your life?”

  She waved his words away. She’d made her decision. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be careful. I’m not your responsibility.”

  Ash muttered something she was probably better off not hearing. The he sighed. “How are you getting your herd north?”

  Grateful for the change of subject, Sunny didn’t hesitate in answering. “Every year a man named Conklin comes up from South Texas and gathers herds from ranches along the way. My father has done business with him for years, and his price is fair.”

  “When’s he due?”

  “Any time after the end of the month.”

  “But that’s weeks away. It’s only the fifth. The roundup won’t take that long. Call your men back, Sunny.”

  She shook her head. “No.” This was something she’d already decided. She wasn’t about to let him talk her out of it. “I want to be ready in case he’s early.”

  “Has he ever been early?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Sunny, it doesn’t make sense—”

  “You told me I had to learn to make my own decisions. I’ve decided to get the branding and cutting done now.” She braced herself for an argument.

  It was quite for a moment, only the chattering of a blue jay to break the morning silence. It was always quiet when the men were away.

  “If you have to wait a couple of weeks for Conklin, what are you going to do with the her
d till then?”

  “There.” She pointed south to the box canyon in the hills less than two miles away. “I’ve talked it over with Tom and he agrees. The men can build a brush and log barrier across the narrow mouth. There’s plenty of water, and the last of our haystacks are there. The herd will be fine for a couple of weeks.”

  Ash shook his head. “If it wasn’t for Baxter, I’d say it was a good idea. But you’re crazy to think about staying out here without some kind of protection for the week or two your men will be out on the range.”

  “What are you, my self-appointed body guard?”

  “Somebody’s gotta be! Like I said before, you need a keeper.”

  She ground her teeth to keep from shouting back at him. She didn’t want him to be her keeper. She wanted him to be her—what? Just what did she want from Ash McCord, she wondered.

  But the question was ridiculous. After last night, she knew what she wanted from him. She wanted…everything.

  She watched him walk away, one careful step at a time—no more crutches, he’d said after the picnic. She felt drained, as she did after nearly every encounter with him. Yet at the same time she also felt more alive. The air smelled sweeter, the breeze felt more refreshing. Even with a gray, cloudy sky, the colors were brighter. Her heart pounded and her blood seemed to sing in her veins, like it had during the night.

  She fought the feeling.

  She had agreed to let him go.

  “Ash,” she called.

  He stopped halfway to the house and turned toward her.

  “Should I hitch the team? Are you going to get your things?” She held her breath, not daring to hope he might stay.

  “I’m getting my things.”

  Her heart sank. But then, why should she feel such disappointment? She’d known he was leaving today. Her vision blurred.

  “I’m moving into the bunkhouse.”

  Stunned, she could only stare at him.

  “I’ll stay until your men get back.”

  The house felt empty without him. If only Ash would give things a chance to develop between them. She knew he felt many of the same exciting things she did. But he denied them. From the look on his face the few times she saw him during the day, he was even denying last night. To her and to himself.

  But somehow, some way, she would get through to him. She would break down those walls he so carefully erected to keep her away. She’d break them down and send the bricks and mortar flying so he couldn’t rebuild again.

  Even the girls felt bereft when he said good night after supper and left the house. Katy had been hoping he’d play checkers with her again. Rachel and Amy missed his praise when they spread Amy’s “fancies” across the parlor floor and spelled new words they’d learned.

  Sunny divided her attention between the checker board on the small table between the chair and sofa, and the fancy letters on the floor, doing justice to neither activity. She kept wondering what Ash was doing alone in the night. She hated to think of him out there remembering the past, nursing his anger for Baxter, wondering how he was going to clear his name, planning where he’d go afterwards.

  “See, Sunny?” Amy said from the floor.

  Since she wasn’t really concentrating on her checker game with Katy, she moved her piece quickly and without thought, then turned to Amy.

  “I spelled ‘Rachel’ all by myself. Rachel didn’t even help, did you, Rachel? See my new ‘R,’ Sunny? I wanted to show it to Ash. I wish he was here.”

  So do I. “It’s a pretty ‘R,’“ Sunny told her, wondering briefly which newspaper or magazine was now no longer readable after having sacrificed its glorious, fancy letter. If she asked, Sunny knew Amy would be able to show her exactly where the ‘R’ had come from, for the child kept every scrap of paper with writing on it that she came across. There were stacks of cut-up papers beneath Amy’s bed. “You did good with your spelling.”

  Ash stood beneath the overhang on the bunkhouse porch and stared at the dim light glowing in the parlor window of the house across the yard. It was the hanging lamp in the parlor. He could tell by the angle of the light.

  He wondered if Sunny would take his place across the checkerboard from Katy tonight. Who would encourage Amy and Rachel with their spelling?

  He stepped off the porch but stayed in the shadows, out of the moonlight.

  It didn’t matter if they were gathered in the parlor as usual and he was out here alone. They’d gotten along fine before he’d entered their lives. They might need protection, but they didn’t need him in their inner family circle.

  Don’t they? a whispered voice asked in the region of his heart.

  He dismissed the thought and flipped his half-smoked cigarette down. He ground it out with his boot heel. His quivering thigh muscles and aching calves protested. He’d overdone it today. He’d ridden for the first time since the robbery.

  Today had been much worse than the day they’d let him out of prison and he’d mounted his first horse in five years. At least then his muscles had been strong and whole from having been hired out as convict labor to area plantations.

  But he would ride again tomorrow, and the next day and the day after that, a little longer and farther each time, until he was confident he could handle himself in the saddle again.

  By then the branding and cutting should be done. The ranch hands would return, and his excuse for staying would be gone. No one would need his protection.

  But who will hold Sunny through the night?

  A trembling weakness shot through him at the thought. He forced the weakness and the thought away. What happened between him and Sunny last night would never happen again.

  The minute her men returned, he’d leave.

  And he’d leave a part of himself behind when he went.

  Sunny spent the rest of the week biting her tongue on words of protest and caution every time Ash mounted his horse. He was pushing himself too hard. She feared he would hurt himself if he wasn’t more careful. But she knew any words from her would be wasted. He was determined.

  He was determined to stay until her men returned.

  He was determined to leave the ranch the minute he felt she no longer needed his protection.

  He was determined that what they shared the night he’d loved her would not happen again.

  He was determined to clear his name, then leave town for good.

  She was determined that he stay.

  Yet the more at ease he sat in the saddle, the farther away she could feel him slipping. It was cold comfort to know he was always near. Every time she stepped out the door he was there, sometimes only twenty yards away, sometimes silhouetted on the crest of a low hill, but always within sight, always standing guard.

  But his physical nearness was not enough to make up for the emotional distance he kept between them. The only time he came to the house was for supper.

  He rode out each afternoon to watch the girls ride in from school. Sometimes he rode with them and talked, laughed. But never with her. She missed him.

  When Ben and Pecos rode in Thursday afternoon Sunny nearly panicked. She wanted to send them away. But Ash had already seen them from his spot on the hill.

  When he rode in and dismounted, Sunny was sure she was the only one who noticed the slight trembling in his legs. She ached for him, yet at the same time wanted to shriek at him for his stubbornness. Instead, she asked, “Does this mean you’re leaving now?”

  Ash flipped his stirrup up and hooked it over the saddle horn, then loosened the cinch. “Not yet.” He didn’t look at her. “I want to talk to Tom before I go.”

  “Be a day or two before Tom gets back,” Ben told them. “Him and Larry left Erik to watch over the market herd up in the canyon. Now they’re moving the cows and calves what ain’t travelin’ north up closer to the creek so’s they won’t get bunched in with the others when they hit the trail.”

  Sunny almost sagged with relief. It would be another couple of days before Tom was back. “And
Toppy?” she asked. “Did he have enough food for everyone?”

  “Oh, sure. Him an’ his chuck wagon are followin’ Tom and Larry.”

  Sunny nodded. The men at home had a cook stove in the lean-to at the end of the bunkhouse and could fend for themselves. Those on the range deserved the best meals possible. And Toppy, she knew, always provided good meals. He was at least as good a cook as she was.

  She didn’t know about the others’ culinary abilities, but she figured they must be passable, because Ash started taking all his meals with Ben and Pecos in the bunkhouse.

  “Damn him.”

  He had to be the most stubborn, pigheaded man alive.

  So why on earth did she let herself miss him so much? Why did she ache for his smile—just one smile? Was that too much to ask?

  But no. It wasn’t enough to ask, because she wanted much more than a smile. She wanted to feel the heated rush of blood in her veins when he looked at her with those piercing blue eyes. She wanted that melting sensation that swept her when he touched her. She wanted to lose herself in the strength of his arms and the passionate demand of his kiss.

  Yet even that, she sensed, was not enough for her now. She wanted him. The man. All of him. She wanted him in her life, the way he’d already burrowed into her heart, her body. She wanted to share her days and nights with him, and all the intimacies that implied. She wanted his love, his laughter. His commitment.

  And she wanted to give him all those things, too, because she knew, knew he wanted them, needed them.

  But how did she get him to admit it?

  That’s what she worried about Friday night, long after the time she should have been asleep. Tom would be back tomorrow. How could she keep Ash from leaving?

  Every time she asked herself that question she felt a sickness in her stomach. She twisted another fistful of sheet and blocked out the restless horse-sounds from the corral. Horses made her think of Ash’s leaving, for he would leave on his horse. She didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t keep him from leaving, and she knew it.

  She tried to block Ash McCord, her need, her want of him, from her mind.

  Concentrate on something else.

  Against her will, she listened to the restless snorting and stomping coming from the corral. What had the horses so worked up? A bobcat? Or maybe a possum come to try his stealth at the hen house.