The Rancher Takes a Bride

by Sylvia McDaniel

  "Yes, sir," she said mockingly but scrambled to put on the dress that she'd recently discarded. It took her several minutes to button the garment while he stood back and watched, trying to recover.

  When she was finished, she turned around and smartly saluted him. "What other commands, sir?"

  "You've got one minute to grab some personal items you need that will fit in my saddlebags before we leave."

  She looked at him oddly. "What do you mean before we leave? I'm going to San Antonio. You're leaving."

  "Wrong! You're returning to Fort Worth with me, until I find my mother's wedding band."

  "I will not go back with you!"

  "I'll carry you if I have to. You've got one minute to grab some things."

  "I'm not going!" she yelled, her arms folded over her chest. "I stole nothing from you."

  "You've got thirty seconds."

  "Espece de con."

  "Twenty seconds."

  "II est casse-pieds."

  "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . ."

  "Espece de salaud."

  "Four, three, two, one. Time's up."

  He started toward her, and she ran around to the other side of the bed.

  Her face was flushed, her lips swollen from his kiss.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you, Travis Burnett! I don't have to and I won't."

  He jumped onto the bed, his boots sinking into the feather ticking as he walked across the mattress to reach the other side before she could get away. Jumping down to the floor in front of her, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as though she weighed less than a saddle.

  "Last chance, Miss Severin. Is there anything you want?"

  "Espece de con comme la lune, "she said, trying to kick him with her legs.

  "You know, I really enjoy you speaking that sexy French talk to me. I think you're telling me how you're going to take that pretty little body of yours and make me hotter than a bonfire."

  She hit him with her fist. The blow bounced off his back. He grunted.

  "I'm talking dirty to you all right, but it's not sexual. I'm calling you every curse word that I know, Mr. Burnett. None of it a polite lady would say."

  "Then we're back where we started. You are no lady."

  "You, sir, are no gentleman! Put me down this instant!"

  "Right now I don't want to be a gentleman," he said, starting toward the door.

  "Grab my valise at the very least," she cried.

  He picked up her small suitcase and opened the door to the common room, ignoring her demands to be released.

  "What about my trunk?"

  "I'll have it returned on the next stage."

  All eyes turned and stared as Travis carried Desirée through the common room over his shoulder, her derriere high in the air.

  "Help! Someone please help me—he's kidnapping me."

  The men all looked at Travis. He smiled. "Women! You just can't keep them at home anymore." He tipped his hat to the men. "Later, boys."

  Chapter Four

  Rose bounced on Travis's shoulder, her head swaying with every step. His arm clasped her legs right below her buttocks as he walked out the door and into the dwindling sunlight. Her hands throbbed from pounding him on the back, but the pain was like a needle prick compared to the hot blaze of fury that consumed her this moment.

  "Put me down!" she commanded.

  He dropped her with a thump in front of a snow- flake Appaloosa that pranced nervously at the unexpected intrusion.

  "How dare you carry me over your shoulder like I was nothing but a sack of potatoes. You arrogant—"

  He held up his hand as if to halt her. "Uh-uh. Don't say anything ugly. I gave you a choice. You could have walked."

  "I didn't expect you to carry me out bodily!"

  Laughter emanated from his eyes, increasing her frustration. The urge to again pummel him with her fists was strong, but she resisted.

  "I know," he said.

  He stood gazing at her, amused at her show of temper, challenging her with his dark eyes. Finally he moved to stand beside his horse, rubbing the nervous animal on the neck. "We need to get going." He turned toward her. "Let me give you a leg up."

  "I'm not going with you!" she said, fervently hoping he would listen to reason. It was more than just the fact that she didn't want to go to Fort Worth; there was the horse.

  Exasperated, he started toward her. "Lady, I've already carried you out of that roadhouse. In about ten seconds, I'm going to show you how I can throw you over my saddle. I've had enough of your stalling."

  She stepped back, her gaze fixated on the animal, her anger momentarily subdued. Fear rose like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm her. Horses were unruly animals that if provoked would run like the wind, dragging a body mercilessly along behind them. This one didn't look too friendly, and she was already far too close.

  "Cowboy, if you think I'm climbing up on that piece of buzzard meat, you're crazy."

  The animal drew back its lips and snorted hot air.

  "I don't care too much for you, myself," Rose responded.

  "Belle isn't buzzard meat," he said, insulted.

  "I don't want to ride your horse. I don't want to go back to Fort Worth. And I certainly don't want to be with you." She took a deep breath. "Given my feelings, I'm staying here!"

  She turned to walk off, certain that being firm was the way to handle this situation. After all, how many times had she and Isaiah handled an unruly customer? Way too many to count.

  Travis grabbed her by the arm, his voice soft but firm. "Don't be in such a hurry."

  He pulled her back toward the waiting horse, which gazed at her, as if sizing her up. She just knew the dumb animal was calculating how soon it could dump her off its back.

  Travis untied the reins of his mount and sidestepped to where he filled her vision. "I really don't care what you want, Miss Severin. You have no choice but to return with me, unless you'd like to give me back the ring now."

  Repeatedly he came back to the same subject. Some stupid ring, which she knew absolutely nothing about. Just because she was a medium, he thought she was also a thief.

  "Cowboy, if I had that ring I'd gladly hand it back to you just so you would go away, but I don't. So give up and let me go."

  "Who did you sell it to?" His eyes bored into hers, and his voice was gruff.

  She threw up her arms, exasperated. "I didn't steal the ring, much less sell it. I can't even describe it to you." Rose's frustration rose along with her voice. "Now, get it through your thick skull. I don't have your mother's ring!"

  The horse nickered in alarm and stepped away from Travis straight toward Rose, sending her scrambling into the cowboy's arms.

  It was a natural fit, her head beneath his chin, his hands around her back, her breasts crushed against his chest. In addition, when she glanced into his dark brown eyes she couldn't help but wonder at the security that enveloped her. The fear subsided, the anger drained away, and a new emotion seemed to take root.

  Heat spread through her like a wildfire. The memory of the man's kiss had awakened all kinds of emotions, feelings she wasn't ready to explore. Feelings she didn't want with this cowboy who was certain she was a thief.

  Seconds stretched into minutes. He smiled down at her. "I'll assist you onto my horse."

  She stepped out of his arms. Her voice trembled. "Look, I'm a city girl. I don't ride horses. I travel by carriage or I walk, but I do not ride."

  "Then get prepared, 'cause you're about to have your first lesson, Miss Severin."

  He turned and put a foot in the stirrup, swinging his leg over the saddle. Leaning over he pulled Rose up onto the horse before she could protest again.

  "Oh, God," she cried as she clung to the saddle horn. "Have I told you how much I despise you?" she said between gritted teeth, her false French accent completely gone.

  "Frequently."

  She swallowed her fear and glanced down at the ground, which seemed very far a
way, and quickly closed them. "Merde! I'm on a horse! I don't like horses."

  With a jingle of his spurs, he prodded the horse into motion. The animal swayed beneath her, its hips moved slowly. At first she kept her eyes clenched tightly shut, refusing to open them, fearful she would fall at any moment.

  Finally, she opened first one eye and then another. They were moving, plodding along, the saddle swaying with the horse's hips in a rocking rhythm. She swallowed and took her first breath since they'd started. She could do this. She could ride this animal as long as she didn't think about falling.

  This wasn't so bad. Bravado was the best way to overcome fear, or at least to hide behind. "Humph! At this pace the stage will beat us back to Fort Worth on its return trip."

  "Say the word and I'll speed her up," he challenged.

  "No!" She turned slightly to her right and glanced up at the man who held her in his arms. She gazed into earthy brown eyes that radiated annoyance and something that made her feel like summer on a cold winter day.

  "It would help if you relaxed."

  "Relax?" She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. "I'm about to die and you want me to relax."

  He laughed. "It'll help."

  "Who? The horse?"

  Travis shook his head, grinning.

  "Do you think this horse knows I don't like her?"

  "I'm sure. She's heard every word. We'll be lucky if she doesn't throw us at least once before we arrive in Fort Worth."

  She jerked her gaze back to his forehead and stared at him. She thought he was joking, but she wasn't quite certain.

  "You are a beast."

  "Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment coming from a thief like you."

  "I am not a thief," she insisted and then concentrated on trying to remain seated in the saddle and not lean back touching Mr. Burnett. Soon she realized just how impossible that was going to be and relaxed, letting her back rest against his chest.

  The contact of that hard male body had her imagination stirred up like a calico queen on a Saturday night.

  He was tall enough so that she had to look up at him. His wavy dark hair barely graced the edge of his collar, yet the thick strands made her want to curl her fingers around the locks and bring his head down to her mouth. And oh, that full mouth looked tempting. Those lips had the power to suck the strength right out of her limbs and leave her craving more.

  The horse whinnied, but Travis controlled the animal, his over-large hands steering the reins with confidence, making her secure in his ability to manage the beast. Yet she couldn't help but remember those large, callused hands skimming her body, caressing her, leaving behind a trail of molten fire.

  Was she crazy? She hated Travis Burnett with a passion. He was making her life hell, yet the memory of his lips stroking hers left her blood quickening.

  Nevertheless, she couldn't let herself forget Travis thought she was a thief! He despised her and was dragging her back to Fort Worth to get his revenge.

  She wasn't worried. She'd handled tough guys before, only this one was more determined and better looking.

  But why would Mrs. Burnett accuse her of stealing her ring? The lady had been with her the entire time she packed her bag to leave.

  "Are you certain your mother actually said that I took her ring?" Rose questioned, suddenly doubting Travis's story.

  "You were the last person she was with before it disappeared. It has to be you."

  "Cowboy, you're not too bright, are you? Are you certain she just didn't lose the blasted ring? I could be making this trip to Fort Worth for nothing."

  "Miss Severin, I don't care whether you think I have the brains of a jackass. You're going back to Fort Worth."

  "You're wrong. A jackass has more brains."

  "Do you ever shut up?"

  "Does it bother you?" she asked.

  He maneuvered the horse around a large boulder in the road. "No, Miss Severin. I enjoy women who prattle on about everything and say nothing."

  "Mr. Burnett, you have a nasty streak. I should read your palm sometime. Someone with your mouth usually gets silenced early in life. Especially when you're fond of kidnapping women. Have you ever done this before?"

  "Done what? Strangled a woman who couldn't shut up?"

  "No! Taken a woman against her will! Or is this the only way you can get women?"

  "Good women have nothing to fear from me."

  "So I'm not what you would consider a good woman?"

  "Miss Severin, shut up while I still have one ear left."

  "Despicable man!"

  "Mouthy woman!"

  Feeling especially vindictive, she leaned back in his arms and squirmed, settling herself firmly against him. She then proceeded to watch as the last of the sun's rays disappeared behind the western sky. The horse plodded along, and Rose felt her body begin to unwind on the back of the big Appaloosa. Maybe riding a horse wasn't half bad after all. It reminded her of being in a rocker that moved sideways, jolting her up and down.

  A mosquito buzzed around her ear and she reached up and swatted the pesky bug. When she did she almost lost her balance, but Travis's arms tightened around her, protectively. An enveloping sense of security and warmth stole over her, and she fought the feelings with all her strength. She didn't want to have any pleasant emotions for this man. He didn't deserve them.

  Twilight slipped into darkness and still they continued on. "I hate to be the one to mention this, but it's getting dark. Are we going to ride all night, or just to the next inn?"

  "We're not going to spend the night at an inn. We'll camp somewhere just off the trail," he advised calmly.

  "What? Where am I going to sleep? I'm not sleeping on the ground," she said, aggravated more by his calm, quiet attitude than by his words.

  "Then you can sleep standing, and I'll use my bedroll."

  "Don't you think it would be better to keep going until we find an inn or a ranch house willing to let us spend the night?" she questioned, fearing before she asked what the answer would be.

  "No."

  "You know—sheets, blankets, and a pillow? The kind of things civilized people sleep on?"

  "I'll sleep on the ground, and you'll have the bedroll, so quit complaining."

  She looked up at the stars, as if seeking help from above, and shook her head. "Oh, God! If I'd known how much trouble was coming my way when I met Mrs. Burnett, I'd have refused her money."

  "But you should have known. I thought palm readers knew everything," he said, his voice almost laughing.

  She glanced up at him, but couldn't see his face clearly in the near dark. This cowboy didn't let anything slip past him. "It's bad luck to read your own palm."

  "I just bet it is."

  Rose held up her palm and glanced at it in the fading light. "Years ago a friend of mine read my palm and predicted I'd find fame and fortune," she said, unsure of why she was telling him this story.

  "Yeah, fame on a wanted poster with a fortune going to the person who finds you."

  "You do have a vicious tongue, Mr. Burnett. Not a wanted poster, but a billboard as an actress. Some day I'm going to be a famous actress." Her dreams were just as important as everyone else's. Why did she always receive the same reaction when she mentioned wanting to be an actress?

  "And you've already started practicing your art," he said with a laugh. "Playing a medium."

  Frustration overwhelmed her. The man just didn't understand. "Of course not! Being a medium is a vocation I was born with. Acting is what I dream of doing. Don't you have dreams, Mr. Burnett?"

  "Yes, of a quiet night under the stars without a yapping woman."

  "Dogs yap. I speak."

  He glanced down at her and grinned. "Lady, you never shut up. Maybe there is some truth in your speaking to the dead. Maybe people have died from over-exposure to your tongue."

  "Hardly!" She glared at him in the semi-darkness and said with frustration, "Are we going to eat anytime soon?"

  "Mot
her packed some hardtack biscuits. When we stop, we'll have them."

  "How convenient."

  She squirmed, trying to relieve certain portions of her body that had no feeling left in them, and in the process elbowed Mr. Burnett.

  "Stop moving around or you're going to knock both of us off the back end of this horse."

  "Well it's a good thing I don't know how to ride a horse, because otherwise your backside would be in the dirt, and I'd be riding back to Waco."

  "You might escape me, Miss Severin. But I'd find you. You wouldn't get away from me for long. And when I found you, I'd make your life hell!"

  She faked a yawn. "Another nasty threat, Mr. Burnett? Truly this one makes me quiver in anticipation. Do tell me how you plan on torturing me when I escape. You've already made my life hell. That threat holds little meaning anymore."

  ***

  Travis finally stopped for the night when his mount began to tire. Though Miss Severin weighed little more than a feed sack, he didn't know if the Appaloosa was tiring from physical labor, or if the poor horse's ears were exhausted from the woman's constant chatter.

  Somehow he didn't know quite how to take this woman. He'd threatened her, and all she'd done was ask him with disinterest how he planned on punishing her. Was she crazy or what?

  A fire crackled within the circled rocks, the popping wood shooting a shower of sparks heavenward. Travis leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out in front of him. He was bone-weary, and he knew they still had at least six hours of riding tomorrow before they'd be in Fort Worth. Six hours of the woman's ceaseless prattle and soft curved body rubbing against his.

  What in the hell had possessed him to bring her back with him?

  At first he'd thought just the threat would be enough for her to give back the ring, but nothing seemed to penetrate this woman's defenses. And when she hadn't given him the band, he'd been forced to carry through with his threat. After all, Travis Burnett was a man of his word.

  Him and his big mouth shooting off. Now look where it had gotten him. He was stuck in the dark with a woman who could talk the ears off a mule and tempt a saint, with a body he had fantasized all day about exploring. A body that had rubbed against him all the way from Waco. Every step of the way, he'd been penetrated by her smell, her touch, and her voice. God help him, what had he gotten himself into?

  And he was taking her home.

  She yawned and stretched, pulling her dress tight across her breasts. He tried not to look; he tried not to notice the way the material clung to her curves.