He actually blushed. "Aw, Casey, don't say things like that. I'm not handsome."
She turned and winked at Jenny. "We certainly think he is, don't we?"
"I want my hair cut like Sam's," the child stated, putting her book aside and sliding into the chair that Sam had just vacated. "I don't like long hair."
At that moment Casey realized they were not alone. Her gaze collided with a silver one, and she stared at him for a moment before saying, "You're next, Gabe."
He walked toward her like a marauding tiger, and the thought of actually touching his hair was very provocative. She shook herself. If she thought that way, she'd never be able to cut his hair.
"What do you mean, I'm next?"
She lifted jenny off the chair. "You need a haircut."
A slow smile curved his mouth. "And you are going to give me one?"
"There's no one else here who can."
He bent down to jenny and touched a soft curl. "Is your sister always like this?"
Jenny's eyes widened and tears gathered in them. "She won't let me have short hair like Sam's. And she makes me read."
Gabe smiled and placed his hand on her head. "Jenny, your hair is too pretty to be cut."
"That's what Sam said." She looked pensive for a moment and then grinned up at him. "Do you want to marry me so I can have my mother's Spode dishes?"
He was startled and looked toward Casey for help, but she was shaking with laughter, giving him a look that said he had gotten himself into the situation, and she wasn't going to help him get out of it.
"Uh, I would, but you're too old for me, Jenny."
She shook her head, and her curls danced around her charming face. "I'm not old-Casey's old. Some men back in Virginia wanted to marry her, but she just wouldn't do it."
Gabe looked back at Casey and smiled at her discomfort. "Why do you suppose she turned them all down?"
Jenny frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know. Why didn't you marry them, Casey?"
"That's enough, jenny." Casey pointed to the chair. "Sit here, Gabe."
He grinned, feeling somehow lighthearted. When he sat down, he felt Casey's hand fall on his shoulder. "Jenny, if you will go look in the tack room in the barn, you'll find someone waiting to meet you."
"For me!"
"That's right."
Sam took his young sister's hand. "Let's go see who it is."
As the two of them hurried away, Casey asked, "Did you get her a pup?"
"Ned Holston at the feed store was giving them away. He said they were weaned two weeks ago. I picked out the friskiest one so it could keep up with jenny."
She paused with the comb in her hand. "Thank you. Jenny gets so lonely with no one her age to play with."
The comb ran through his hair, and she touched the back of his neck. He closed his eyes as her hand lingered there. She could not know where his thoughts were taking him as she gathered the hair at his crown.
Gabe hadn't known that a haircut could be so sensuous. He had the strongest urge to turn around, take her onto his lap, and hold her next to his heart. He wanted to cherish her and make all her troubles his. How much more could he take, he wondered, as her fingers traveled gently through his hair, stirring his blood.
Not realizing what she was doing, Casey caressed the nape of his neck. She felt the nom familiar ache start in her stomach and work its way up to her breast. It was hard to breathe, and she had to drag air into her lungs.
Gabe sat there so straight and tall, seemingly unaware of what was happening to her. The scissors trembled in her hand when she snipped the hair at the nape of his neck. She forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing and finally finished the back of his hair and moved to the front.
Hesitantly, she lifted his chin so she could see where she needed to cut, and she stopped dead in her tracks. There was no mistaking the look he gave her-it was raw and hard, burning with desire.
Not knowing what to do, she said hurriedly. "I... will soon be finished."
"Just do it," he said in an impatient tone.
Her hand was really trembling as she snipped about his face. She tried not to look at him, but her gaze was drawn to his lips.
"Dammit," he said, rising to his feet and jerking her against him. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
In confusion she could only shake her head.
Gabe gathered Casey close, pressing her against him. "I have wanted to hold you like this almost from the beginning, even when I thought you had a husband."
She went weak, and her head dropped against his broad chest. "I don't understand any of this," she said, drawing back and looking at him. "I don't know why I feel this way."
"Don't you? Think about it, and the answer will come to you," he demanded roughly.
Casey shook her head. She had never seen such deep torment in anyone's eyes as she saw in Gabe's. She wondered what secrets he kept hidden. She wished he would share them with her, so she could help him.
"This has never happened to me before," she admitted, more confused than ever.
His lips feathered softly across her cheek. He was trembling when he realized her mouth was just a breath away from his. Sweet torment tore at him, and he felt like a man dying of thirst.
He had to have her, all of her, or he would drift forever with nothing to live for. He could feel her body soften against his, and he knew she wanted him too. His mouth touched the edge of her full lips, and they trembled against his.
Casey felt his breath on her mouth, and an incredible sweetness touched her heart. He hadn't kissed her yet, but merely brushed his lips across hers.
What would she do if he actually kissed her?
Gabe's arms tightened around her shoulders so he could bring her closer, and she cried out, moving quickly away from him. He realized he had frightened her with his unleashed passion.
What he didn't know was that Casey's shoulder hurt so badly she couldn't speak for a moment. Once the pain subsided, she bit her lip and rubbed her shoulder. "I didn't-"
"I know. I stepped over the line, and I'm sorry." He looked down at the ground for a moment and took a deep breath. "It won't happen again." When he gazed back at her, there was no sign of desire in his eyes. His expression was flat and cold. "I ask your pardon."
The last thing Casey wanted was for him to be sorry he had taken her into his arms. She wanted to be near him, to feel the hardness of his body, and his kiss upon her lips. She stooped to retrieve the scissors where she had dropped them, trying to hide the fact that her shoulder still hurt. She actually welcomed the pain, because it gave her something to think about other than the way her heart was slamming against her chest.
"Do you want me to finish your hair? I just need to take a little off the top."
He pushed his hand through his midnight colored hair. "No. That's what got me in trouble in the first place." He stared at her for a moment, trying to find the softness he had felt in her moments ago, but she was solemn, her eyes clear, and she had distanced herself from him.
Without another word, he turned and walked away. She listened to the faint sound of his boot steps, and then there, was only silence.
Casey dropped onto the chair, wishing her shoulder would stop hurting. He had probably thought she had pushed him away because she didn't want him to kiss her. He didn't know about the pain in her shoulder.
Casey sensed such a loneliness in him. She wondered who had hurt him so badly.
She heard jenny laughing with joy as she ran toward her, so she stood, forcing a smile onto her face.
"Look what Gabe gave me. It's my very own puppy!"
Casey was relieved.
They had been living on the Spanish Spur for three weeks, and so far there had been no real trouble. In fact, she was beginning to feel encouraged because everything seemed to be going so well.
The house felt like home to them-especially now that Sam had built two wide wall shelves so they could display their mother's china.
; It was nice to go to bed at night without having to move out the next morning with the wagon train.
She stood in the doorway, her eyes going to the loft. Kate had given her some goose feathers and ticking and had helped her make a mattress for Sam. Gabe had helped her brother put up a dividing wall so Sam could have privacy.
The only furniture in the front room was a swaybacked settee and a straight-backed chair.
Casey and jenny shared the bedroom, but they still slept on pallets. Kate was helping her make a mattress for Jenny and herself.
The days were full, and there was so much to do there was very little time to be idle. Most days Sam rode out with Gabe, and he would come home in the late afternoon excited about what Gabe had taught him that day.
Gabe was acting differently toward her since the day she had cut his hair. He was distant and formal when he spoke to her, and it seemed to Casey that he avoided her whenever he could. She wondered what he could be thinking; he must have thought she had been too forward when she insisted on cutting his hair, and then she had practically thrown herself in his arms.
He probably thought she acted that way with every man she met.
She gave her head a small shake and glanced at the barn, which still needed extensive repairs. At least the broken boards on the corral had been replaced, and the three horses that Gabe had rounded up were now enclosed there.
She watched the wind stir the leaves on the elm tree near the porch. It was a mild October day with clear skies and only an occasional breeze blowing from the south. She had chosen today to clean the bunkhouse, and she had gathered her broom and mop as soon as she had seen Gabe ride away. Luckily, the bunkhouse was in good repair-it was just dusty from not being used for so long.
Four cots were lined up against the north wall, and there was a potbellied stove at each end of the room to keep it warm in the winter. The structure seemed sound enough, and she glanced up at the ceiling. Since there was no sign of a leak, she knew that the roof was sound.
She had just finished scrubbing the floor and was standing to flex her sore muscles when pain stabbed through her like a knife. By now her shoulder should be getting better, but it wasn't. She didn't know how much longer she could go on this way, because sometimes the pain was unbearable.
She had made up three of the beds, two for the Indians Gabe had sent for. She had just spread a clean blanket across Gabe's bed, and she paused to stare at the pillow where he would lay his head tonight. She could almost imagine his long, lean body lying there, his dark hair contrasting with the whiteness of the pillowcase. She ran her hand across the wool blanket and closed her eyes, wondering what it would feel like to lie beside him and have him take her in his arms. Her heart throbbed, and her breath caught.
When she thought of him, her body always betrayed her. Why these feelings for him, and why now?
Disgusted with herself for allowing such erotic flights of fancy, she placed the jar of wildflowers she had brought with her on the window ledge, then gathered her broom and mop and left. Tomorrow she intended to go to Mariposa Springs to meet with the attorney, Bartholomew J.Murdock.
Jenny was playing in the front yard, the new pup bouncing around her, while she patted out mud pies. Her little face was so muddy, all Casey could see was the blue of her eyes. She was grateful to Gabe for giving Jenny the dog, because she played with it all day, and it even slept at the foot of her pallet at night.
"You have to come in soon, jenny. You'll need a bath before you can eat."
Her sister's bottom lip slid into a familiar pout. "I don't like baths. I like to live in the mud-all the time."
"Nonetheless, I am going to heat water for the tub, and you will have a bath. Come on into the kitchen after you have put your toys away."
Moments later Jenny stomped into the kitchen, displeasure sparkling in her eyes. "You don't love me, Casey. If you did, you wouldn't always make me take a bath."
Casey took her hand and then stripped the muddy clothes off her, dropping them beside the door. LiftingJenny into the tub, she smiled at her. "It's because I love you that I want to see that sweet face of yours. Right now I can't see it for the mud."
Jenny glanced up at her. "You like my face?"
"I love that face."
She considered for a moment. "I'll take a bath."
It was late afternoon by the time Casey had finished her household chores and was able to feed and water the horses. She gave a carrot to the chestnut gelding that always came to the fence to nudge her hand. She had already decided she would make him her horse.
When they had lived in the big house in Charlottesville, she had ridden almost daily, and she had been considered quite an accomplished horsewoman. But when the Union soldiers had ridden through town, they had confiscated all the horses for their troops. Her family had lost so much because of the war.
But time passed, and they had a new life now. Absently, she gave the gelding a pat.
She was not concerned when she heard a rider approaching; she expected it to be Sam or Gabe. She placed her hand above her eyes to shade them from the sunlight.
The rider's horse was completely white, definitely a thoroughbred. She couldn't see much of the man's face from this distance, but he was a stranger. He must have noticed her standing by the corral, because he rode in that direction. She watched him dismount and walk toward her.
He removed his hat with perfunctory politeness. "Ma'am," he said as though he were not sure she deserved the courtesy.
His hair was dark, speckled with gray, and she would place him somewhere in his fifties. He was a tall man with wide shoulders. His face might have been called handsome except that his eyes were cold and devoid of feeling-almost like dead eyes, and she found she could not look into them, so she turned her head away.
"Good afternoon," Casey answered, waiting for him to tell her his name and state his business.
"I'm your neighbor." His words were spoken softly, but they still sounded harsh and angry. "I heard in town that there were squatters on the Spanish Spur, and I came by to see for myself. You'll find we don't take kindly to people living where they don't belong. No one in town seems to know anything about your bunch, so why don't you just tell me what you're doing here?"
He went straight to the point, not bothering with niceties, and she answered him in the same manner. "Why don't you tell me who you are and what interest you have in the Spanish Spur? And then I'll tell you my name, and what I'm doing here."
His eyes hardened even more. "It's none of your business who I am, young woman. I'll give you until tomorrow to pack up and be gone. You'd better heed me well. If you aren't gone by sundown you'll regret it. And I'll be back to make sure you aren't still here.."
Her anger hit a quick zenith. "You are the one who will leave and not come back. This ranch was left to my family by our uncle. And neither you nor anyone else is going to make us leave."
He digested that bit of news and nodded. "That figures-you got a Southern-like accent, and I knew Bob had kin in Virginia. I wrote to a man named Hamilton asking to buy the Spanish Spur, but he wrote back that the place belonged to his children, and he wasn't selling."
Her spine straightened, and her chin went up. "That would have been my father." Ordinarily she would have invited a stranger into the house and offered him refreshments, but this man deserved no such courtesy.
She stood her ground as if guarding her domain.
"I'm Cyrus Slaughter." He paused for effect, then said, "Maybe you've heard of me?"
Although she had already guessed who he was, she cringed inside at the mention of that name. She was afraid of him, but she wasn't about to let him know it. Casey met his angry gaze with a steadfast one of her own. "I have heard that you will probably cause my family problems. Are you here to make trouble for us, Mr. Slaughter?"
"Ma'am, you don't know what trouble is until you've crossed me. I want you to make sure to remember that we had this conversation."
She stepped backwar
d, shocked at the venom in his tone. She was about to answer him when she saw jenny come out the front door and run toward her. Casey shook her head and motioned for her sister to go back, but the child didn't stop until she could grab Casey's hand and glance inquisitively at the newcomer.
Jenny had a sunny disposition and treated no one like a stranger, but at the moment she was oddly silent, as if she recognized that this man was not a friend. She tugged on Casey's hand. "Let's go into the house."
Lifting jenny in her arms, Casey battled between anger and fear; fear finally won. She just wanted to get jenny safely away from Cyrus Slaughter. "If you will excuse me," she said, hearing the tremor in her own voice, "I have work to do."
He leaned against the corral and stared at her, long and hard. "Where's your pa or ma? You're too young to be the mother of that little gal."
"We don't have parents, Mr. Slaughter." She didn't want to explain that her mother and father were dead in front of jenny. "Now if you will excuse me."
He moved so quickly that he was in front of her before she could react. "Who else is here with you?"
The man's eyes were so frightening that Casey shivered. She had never seen eyes so devoid of feeling. Kate was right about this man. He would brush aside anyone who stood in the way of what he wanted-and she had the feeling she was in his way.
"Kate is somewhere about," she said hurriedly, not wanting him to think they were alone. "And my brother and our hired hand will be riding in at any moment."
He smiled because he knew he had frightened her. He was - accustomed to people fearing him, and that gave him power over them. "I don't know what you've heard about me, and I don't care. The only interest I have in you is your signature on a document that will make me the new owner of the Spanish Spur."
Casey could feel her face flush as anger flamed inside her. She quickly pushed her fear to the back of her mind. "We have no plans to sell the Spanish Spur to you or anyone else. So if you want to buy land, you might want to look elsewhere."
Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) Page 6
