THE RANCHER'S SPITTIN' IMAGE

by Peggy Moreland

  Laughing, Jaime wrestled free. "That's what they tell me." He stepped back, dragging a hand over his mussed hair, but that cowlick shot right back up like a rooster's tail in the center of his forehead. "The truth is, I was waiting for you."

  Jesse felt a bubble of pride swell in his chest. "Is that a fact?"

  "Yep. Mama said for me to tell you that you won't be able to work with Judas today."

  The bubble deflated just a little. "Oh? And why not?"

  "He's out on stud. Mr. Phillips from over in San Antonio picked him up yesterday. He'll probably have him back in a couple of days, though."

  Jesse frowned at the news. Why hadn't Mandy called him and saved him the trip over? he wondered, then quickly dismissed the thought, realizing that she probably wasn't any more anxious to talk to him than he was to talk to her. Not after what had happened between them.

  Sliding the rope from his shoulder, he smoothed his fingers over the rough hemp, his frown deepening as he realized that without Judas there to work with, he didn't have any excuse to stay on at the Double-Cross with his son.

  "Are you any good with that?" Jaime asked, nodding toward the lasso Jesse held.

  "Good enough. Why?"

  "With Judas gone and all, I was wonderin'…" Jaime ducked his head and dug the toe of his boot into the ground.

  "Wondering what?" Jesse prodded.

  "Well, I was wonderin' if maybe you'd have the time to teach me how to throw a rope."

  If the situation had been a life-and-death one and Jaime had asked Jesse to donate a kidney to him, Jesse would have been just as willing. His love for the boy had grown that strong. "I think I could handle that." He slung an arm around Jaime's shoulders and turned him toward the barn. "Think we can scare up a bale of hay to practice on?"

  Jaime grinned up at him, almost dancing at Jesse's side. "You bet!"

  Together the two hauled a bale from the barn and out into the yard. Jesse took a plastic steer's head from the toolbox in his truck and wired it into place on one end of the bale. Shaking out the lasso, he positioned his hands, demonstrating for Jaime. "Keep a loose grip, but firm enough to maintain control." He held the rope out to Jaime, then adjusted the boy's fingers. "The throw's all in the wrist," he instructed, keeping his hands over his son's. "Soft roll to the right, bringing the lasso up and over your head." He went through the motions with him, then stepped back, giving Jaime a chance to get the feel of the rope.

  When Jaime brought the rope up over his head and immediately smacked himself in the forehead with it, Jesse bit back a smile. "A little higher," he offered, "and sweep it out a little more in front of you before drawing it up."

  With his lower lip caught between his teeth, Jaime gave it another try, this time missing his head before letting the lasso drop. He turned, grinning. "Like that?"

  Jesse laughed and clapped him on the back. "Just like that. Ready to see if you can lasso that steer?" he asked, gesturing toward the bale of hay he'd set out.

  Jaime let out a nervous breath. "Yeah. I guess." He shifted the rope in his hands, then drew it up and over his head as Jesse had instructed, gave it a few twirls, then let it fly. The lasso sailed through the air, hitting the ground a good five feet from the bale of hay. The end of the rope hit about six feet behind it.

  Jesse tossed back his head and laughed. "I guess I forgot to mention that you're supposed to hold on to the end of the rope."

  Jaime turned, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess you did."

  Together they walked to the bale and Jesse stooped to retrieve the rope, skillfully drawing it back into a loose coil. Taking the lasso, he shook it out, curled it back into position, then offered it to Jaime. "How about another try?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  Jesse stepped back while Jaime positioned himself for the throw.

  "You got any kids?"

  The question came out of nowhere and nearly knocked Jesse on his butt. Unconsciously, he reached for the pack of cigarettes he kept in his shirt pocket and shook one out, his fingers trembling. "Why do you ask?" he asked as he clamped the cigarette between his teeth and dug in his jeans pocket for his lighter.

  "Just wondered." Jaime turned at the grate of the lighter's wheel, his eyes zeroing in on the cigarette. He grinned. "Mama says those things'll stunt your growth."

  Realizing what he'd done, Jesse jerked the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it, then crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. "She's right," he mumbled, only just becoming aware of his responsibility in setting a good example for his son. "Bad habit."

  Jaime turned back, drawing a bead on the steer's head. "Yeah, she says that, too." He lifted the rope and made a slow circle over his head. "Course she says that about everythin' that's any fun." He let the lasso fly and it smacked the steer's head before falling to the ground. His shoulders sank in frustration.

  Thankful that, for the moment at least, Jaime had forgotten his original question, Jesse called out to him, "Well, at least you're getting closer."

  Mandy glanced out the window of her office again and groaned. Was he never going to leave? she wondered in growing frustration. A quick look at her wristwatch and she knew she couldn't put off going outside any longer.

  In a last-ditch effort to avoid having to meet Jesse face-to-face, she paused on the back door step and yelled, "Jaime!"

  She listened for his answering call and frowned at her own cowardice. Knowing darn well that her voice wouldn't carry all the way to the barn, she was left with no choice but to go and collect her son personally.

  Squaring her shoulders, she strode in the direction of the barnyard where she'd caught glimpses all afternoon of her son and Jesse throwing a rope around. She knew she should applaud Jesse's patient efforts in coaching Jaime, but darn it, she couldn't! She'd hoped that with Judas gone she'd get a few more days' reprieve before she had to face Jesse again. Their last encounter had left her feeling bruised and battered and way too vulnerable.

  "Jaime!" she called again when she drew near enough to be heard.

  He turned his head and looked in her direction. "Over here, Mama! Come and watch me rope this steer."

  Though Mandy would have preferred her son to come to her, she knew she couldn't deny him the pleasure of showing off his newly learned skill. With a sigh, she picked up the hem of her long broomstick skirt and continued on.

  "Watch this, Mama." Turning back to his target, Jaime lifted the rope and twirled it over his head a couple of times and let it go. Mandy watched the lasso float through the air and land around the steer's head, barely clearing its fake horns. Jaime gave the rope a hard tug, setting it in place.

  "That's great, son," she said, clapping her hands to show her approval. "But it's time to come in now."

  "But, Mama—" he began.

  "No buts, Jaime. I'm going out tonight and Sam promised to keep you. Unfortunately, she's stuck out on a call, so I'm going to have to take you to her. You can stay with her until she's through."

  Any other time Jaime would have leapt at the chance to make a call with his Aunt Sam, but at the moment, roping steer heads with Jesse held a greater appeal. "Ah, Mama, can't I stay by myself? I don't need no baby-sitter."

  "Any baby-sitter," she corrected automatically. "And no, you can't stay by yourself. I'd only worry." She motioned impatiently for him to join her. "Come on, now. I'm already running late."

  "I could stay with the boy," Jesse offered.

  Though she'd hoped to ignore his presence, Mandy was forced to acknowledge Jesse, though she did so without sparing him a glance. "Thanks, but I couldn't ask you to waste any more of your time with Jaime. He's monopolized enough of your day as it is."

  Jesse stepped forward, placing himself between Jaime and Mandy, forcing her to look at him. The fact that her heart tripped into a faster beat at the sight of him only proved to her that she was right in trying to avoid him.

  "You didn't ask," he murmured. "I offered. And it's my time to waste." Ignoring the stubborn gleam in Mandy's eyes
, Jesse turned to look at Jaime over his shoulder. "How about it, Jaime? Are you willing to put up with me until your Aunt Sam gets home?"

  The beaming smile on Jaime's face was answer enough. "Hey, cool! We can practice my roping a little longer."

  Knowing that arguing would do no good and would only make Jaime curious about her reluctance to leave him with Jesse, Mandy tried to accept defeat as graciously as possible. "Thank you. Sam shouldn't be too much longer. Dinner's in the oven. There's plenty for the two of you." She stepped around Jesse and went to Jaime, smoothing a loving hand over his unruly hair.

  He immediately ducked from beneath the motherly gesture. "Ah, Mama," he complained as he trudged for the steer head to reclaim his rope.

  Mandy let her hand fall limply to her side, saddened that her son was outgrowing her displays of affection. "You mind Jesse and do what he says," she called after him.

  "Yes, ma'am," he muttered.

  "And don't forget to shower before you go to bed."

  "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled.

  With no other instructions left to offer, reluctantly Mandy turned back to Jesse. He stood facing her, his hat shoved far back on his head, his hands braced at his hips. His lips were thinned and, in spite of her earlier decision to avoid him, she found herself wanting to press a finger there to soften their tightness, to place her own lips there and sip the anger away.

  Immediately, she dropped her gaze, focusing instead on an invisible fleck of dust on her skirt and brushing at it with fingers that hungered to do other things. "In case Sam should be late, his bedtime is ten."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  At the sarcasm in his voice, Mandy snapped her head back up. "I didn't mean to sound as if I were giving orders," she said defensively. "I was only trying to acquaint you with his schedule."

  "It's a damn shame I have to be told my own son's bedtime."

  Horrified that Jaime might have overheard Jesse's comment, Mandy quickly looked toward her son. But Jaime was busy practicing his throw and thankfully not paying attention to the conversation going on behind him.

  She turned back to Jesse, setting her jaw as she took a threatening step closer. "Don't you dare take advantage of my being gone and tell him you're his father," she warned in a low voice. "If you do, I swear I'll arrange it so that you'll never lay eyes on him again."

  Jesse just stared at her, his gaze never once wavering. "Are you trying to threaten me, Mandy?"

  "No," she said tightly. "It's just a warning you'd be wise to heed."

  One side of Jesse's mouth curled in a sardonic smile. "Your warning is duly noted." When she started to step around him, he shifted, blocking her way. She snapped her gaze to his.

  He took his eyes on a slow journey down the front of her, taking in the sage-green Western-style skirt, matching blouse and colorfully stitched Western boots. "Nice outfit," he murmured. He hooked a finger in the V of her collarless blouse and drew her closer. She stiffened, the gold in her green eyes sparking fire. "You have fun now, you hear?" he murmured huskily. "And don't worry about a thing," he added as he dragged his knuckle up the smooth column of her neck. "Jaime and I'll get along just fine."

  Mandy jerked away from him and wheeled for the house, her skin on fire. Behind her, she heard Jesse's soft chuckling.

  Jaime was still throwing lassos at the steer when the sound of a car coming up the drive made Jesse glance back over his shoulder. His attention now on the low-slung sports car racing up the drive, he passed the rope he'd just gathered into a coil back to Jaime. "Give it another try," he murmured.

  He watched the car squeal to a stop in front of the ranch house, spitting gravel from behind its rear tires. The driver's door swung open, a hand shot out and slapped the car's roof as a bear of a man used it as a brace to propel himself up and out of the car's cramped interior.

  "Hellfire," Jesse muttered under his breath, immediately recognizing the thick neck, the wide shoulders, the muscled arms and thighs of John Lee Carter. "What's he doing here?"

  Jaime dropped the lasso and turned to look. "Oh, that's John Lee Carter. He and Mama have a date tonight."

  At that moment Mandy skipped down the front porch steps and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on John Lee's cheek. Laughing, she looped an arm through his and walked with him to the other side of the car, where he opened the door and guided her inside.

  Jesse wasn't prepared for the jealousy that slammed into him at the sight of Mandy with another man. It burned through his veins, curling his hands into fists at his sides.

  "He used to play professional football," Jaime offered, moving to Jesse's side. "But he blew out a knee and had to retire."

  Yeah, Jesse had read about that. But nothing he'd read had said anything about John Lee moving back home and certainly nothing about Mandy being coupled with him. There'd been plenty of mentions of models and actresses and something about an affair with a princess that was quickly hushed up. But nothing, ever, about Mandy.

  Jaime stole a look at Jesse's face, hoping to plant the seed of an idea that he'd been pondering for the last few days. "Mama sure does look pretty, doesn't she?"

  Jesse curled his nose in disgust, refusing to answer. The sage-green silk skirt and matching blouse he'd admired earlier, suddenly lost its appeal when he realized it was John Lee she'd worn it for.

  John Lee Carter was way too experienced for Mandy, he told himself. A relationship with a womanizer like him would only end with Mandy getting hurt. And Jesse wasn't about to let anyone hurt Mandy. She'd suffered enough at the hands of her father. Jesse had already taken one step toward the house to send John Lee packing, when he realized what he was doing.

  On a muffled curse, he snatched the rope from Jaime's hand, swung it in a fast whirring circle over his head and let it fly. The lasso dropped dead center over the steer's head and Jesse gave the rope a jerk with enough anger behind it to have the bale rearing and toppling over backwards.

  "Wow!" Jaime breathed. "Can you teach me to do that?"

  Jesse paced in front of the window, stopping occasionally to shoot a furious glance at the dark drive beyond. When nothing moved beyond the panes of glass to disturb the night, cursing, he'd swing back into his angry pacing.

  Sam had called shortly after Jaime had gone to bed to tell Jesse that she was going to have to spend the night with a sick horse and asked if he minded staying with Jaime until Mandy returned home. Of course he hadn't minded staying with Jaime, but he did resent the hell out of the fact that it was now pushing one and there wasn't a sign of Mandy!

  "Where the hell is she?" he muttered under his breath as he jerked the drapes to the side for another look outside. But the only thing he saw were the same visions that had taunted him for the last hour: images of John Lee and Mandy, naked, their arms locked tight around each other in a passionate embrace while they rolled wildly on some giant-size bed custom-designed to fit John Lee's muscular frame.

  As he stared blindly out the window, the vision gave way to twin spots of light that grew larger and brighter until Jesse recognized the sports car's dark, sleek shape. The car roared to a stop in front of the house in the same way it had arrived earlier—squealing tires and spitting gravel. Jesse dropped the drape in disgust. "About damned time she came dragging home," he muttered as he snatched his hat off the entry table and rammed it on his head.

  Mandy came in on a rush of air, her cheeks flushed, her hair mussed, and a smile on her face. It wilted somewhat when her gaze met Jesse's accusing one. "Oh," she said dully. "I thought Sam would be here by now."

  "She called. She has to spend the night with a sick horse. She asked me if I'd stay until you got back."

  Mandy tossed her purse to the entry hall table. "I'm back, so you're free to go."

  Though that's exactly what Jesse had been planning to do, at her casual dismissal he found himself squaring off in front of her, his hands fisted at his hips. "What the hell do you think you're doing hanging out all night with the likes of John Lee Carter?"

&n
bsp; That he would dare to question how late she stayed out, and with whom, had Mandy tipping up her chin. "John Lee is a friend of mine, and at one time a friend of yours, too—or have you forgotten that?"

  "I haven't forgotten a damn thing, least of all John Lee's wild ways."

  "And exactly what are you insinuating?"

  "Look at you!" Jesse said thrusting a hand at her. "You look like you just crawled out of bed, for God's sake!"

  Heat flamed in Mandy's cheeks. Though her present state of disarray was a result of John Lee putting the top down on his car, Mandy refused to explain that to Jesse. John Lee was a friend of hers, a good friend, and that was all, but she refused to explain that to Jesse, either. Gathering the silky fabric of her skirt in her fingers, she tried to hold on to her temper. "What I do and who I choose to do it with, is no concern of yours."

  "Like hell it's not," he muttered as he ripped off his hat and sent it sailing across the room. In two long strides he'd closed the distance between them and had her in his arms, determined to wipe the look of defiance from her lips. He crushed his mouth over hers, stifling her cry of refusal.

  Mandy flattened her hands against his chest, intending to push him away. But instead, her traitorous fingers curled into his shirt's fabric and clung.

  With a punishing cruelty that he knew he had no right to inflict, Jesse stabbed his tongue between her lips … but all he tasted was sweetness, innocence … and a heat that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with the passion that surged to life between Mandy and him now.

  "Tell me he means nothing to you," he demanded as he left her lips and moved against the smooth column of her neck. "Tell me he didn't touch you like this." While his hands locked behind her waist, bowing her body to his, his lips burned a trail of fire down her throat. He warmed a silk-covered breast with his breath, then closed his mouth over it, heating her flesh through the thin fabric and drawing her nipple into a hard knot of desire.

  "No," she whispered, lifting her hands to tangle in his hair, helpless to give him anything but the truth. "There's never been anyone but you."