Rogue Rapids

by Shirleen Davies

  “Do they run cattle?” Rachel asked.

  She nodded. “My grandfather started the ranch before my father was born.” She looked at Dax and Luke. “The last I recall, my brothers were arguing for buying a fifth bull, but Father wasn’t having any of it.”

  “Five?” Rachel asked the same time Mack did.

  Sylvia froze, realizing what she’d admitted.

  “They must have a good-sized spread if they already have four bulls and are looking at buying another.” This came from Luke, who sat across the table with his wife, Ginny.

  She could feel Mack tense next to her, her mind racing at how to respond. Chewing on her lip, she shrugged before lifting her chin. “Several families go together to breed cattle. My brothers are the ones who usually negotiate the deals.”

  “I heard about families going together to ranch when Luke and I worked as Texas Rangers.” Dax stabbed another piece of roast.

  Her eyes widened, glad for the opportunity to change the subject. “You were both Rangers?”

  Luke nodded. “For a while before coming to Splendor.”

  “One of my brothers has talked about becoming a Ranger. I’m afraid it will take an act of God to get our father to agree.” She moved potatoes around on her plate, staring down at them.

  Dax raised a brow. “How old is your brother?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  Luke glanced at Dax, then back at Sylvia. “Old enough to make his own decisions. I don’t see why your father would have much say in it.”

  Sylvia choked out a laugh. “You don’t know my father. Anyway, it’s doubtful my brother will ever go against him.”

  The conversation turned away from her family to other topics, Sylvia and her Texas roots forgotten. Instinct told her the subject of the family ranch was far from over between her and Mack.

  Taking a few more bites so as not to appear flustered by the twist in the conversation, a twist that was her fault, she set down her fork. Trying to ignore the uneasy sensations rolling through her, she concentrated on what the others were saying, the paintings on the wall, the flowers in a glass vase on the buffet. She attempted to focus on anything but the man beside her.

  “You and I need to talk, Sylvia.” She felt his breath wash over her cheek as he leaned closer. “There seems to be a lot you haven’t told me.”

  Stiffening, she shifted in her chair to put a few inches between them. “I’m certain there’s much you haven’t told me as well. Isn’t that why people court?”

  Drawing away, he snickered. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Letting out a breath, the tension began to seep out of her. Sylvia didn’t know why it was so important Mack not learn about her family, their ranch, or wealth. In Whiplash, she didn’t know the real reasons eligible young men let their interest in her show.

  Well, maybe she did. Her family’s status in central Texas drew many potential suitors. Her father sent them all away, suspecting the same as Sylvia. They were looking for a piece of the Lucero money and she was the way to get it.

  Mack knew nothing about her background. Although his thoughts on marriage weren’t the same as hers, she knew he wasn’t after anything except the woman he’d met in Splendor. Not her money or a slice of her family’s large ranch. If he proposed, it would be because he wanted her, nothing more.

  The clarity of the thought stayed with her as they rode back to Splendor. After they’d taken care of the horses, he walked her to the front door of the boardinghouse, taking her hands in his.

  “We have four weeks, Sylvia. The way I see it, that’s plenty of time for us to talk. All I ask from you is honesty. If you’re going to tell me something, make sure it’s the truth.” Mack paused, studying her face. “I’ll keep nothing from you, and I expect the same in return. Are you agreeable to this?” He lifted a hand, stroking his knuckles down her face, his gray eyes darkening.

  Loving the heat his touch caused, her gaze locked with his. “Yes, it’s agreeable.”

  Leaning down, he covered her mouth with his. It wasn’t a hard or demanding kiss. Instead, it was an achingly slow kiss, promising more. Lifting his head, he placed one more kiss on her forehead.

  “Good night, Sylvia.”

  “Good night, Adam.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Morgan Miller sat at a table in the saloon, sipping his whiskey, waiting to see if Mack came into the Dixie. He’d heard the deputy spent most nights in one of the three saloons, often going upstairs after several drinks and a few rounds of cards. This evening, Morgan had been having supper at the boardinghouse when he’d heard Caleb telling Dutch that Mack would join them at the Dixie later. He had been in the saloon ever since.

  He’d stayed after church, hoping to speak with Sylvia, perhaps talk her into having supper with him. Morgan watched as she and Mack talked with friends until the deputy escorted her to the boardinghouse. Thinking this was his chance to see her, he’d waited outside the Dixie, his heart rate picking up when she’d emerged wearing a riding skirt.

  Before he had time to call to her, she’d dashed across the street, meeting Mack in front of the livery. They took the trail north, riding in the direction of the Pelletier ranch.

  Five days later, he had no better luck. He’d ridden into town late each afternoon, hoping for a chance to talk with her after she left the general store. Each evening, Sylvia met Mack, who took up all her time until escorting her back to the boardinghouse. Twice, he’d followed them, turning away in disgust when Mack took her in his arms, kissing her the way Morgan could only dream about.

  He wasn’t certain what brought him back to town tonight. On Fridays, he often rode to his father’s for supper, sometimes spending the night, more often riding back to his own ranch. As much as he tried, Morgan couldn’t stay away.

  All he needed was to catch Mack following a saloon girl upstairs once. Without knowing her well, he knew the information would distress Sylvia, perhaps to the point she’d call off the courtship.

  “Courtship,” he muttered to himself, angered the deputy had beat him to the prize. Picking up the bottle on his table, he poured another drink, tossing it back before refilling the glass a fourth time.

  “Are you interested in a game of cards, Miller?”

  A man Morgan recognized but couldn’t recall his name, stood next to the table with another man. He had no interest in cards, but it would pass the time until Mack arrived.

  His gaze moved to Caleb and Dutch, who shared a table on the other side of the saloon. They’d walked in an hour ago and had a couple drinks, acting as if they waited for someone. A knowing smile curved Morgan’s lips.

  He sat back in his chair, playing cards, his attention straying to the two deputies every few minutes. Restless anticipation passed through him. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Mack joined them, and if his habits stayed the same, within an hour of arriving he’d be following one of the ladies upstairs.

  “Thank you so much for inviting us to supper, Lena. The meal was wonderful.” Sylvia felt Mack’s hands brush against her as he settled the shawl around her shoulders.

  Gabe and Lena had also invited his sister, Nora, and her husband, Wyatt Jackson, along with Isabella and her husband, Travis Dixon. The eight of them had a marvelous time, and Sylvia found herself wishing the evening didn’t have to end.

  Lena smiled. “We’ll do this again soon, Sylvia. With all of you living in town, it’s easy to get together.”

  Sylvia had learned a lot tonight, the same as she had at Sunday supper at the Pelletier’s. Travis and Wyatt worked at Redemption’s Edge, breaking and training wild horses. The men and their wives lived in houses behind the bank, close to the house Mack shared with Caleb, making the trip to the ranch each morning and returning each evening. The arrangement worked for both couples.

  The couples loaded into a wagon, the men in back, the three women on the seat, Nora taking the lines. Shouting their goodbyes to Gabe and Lena, it took less than twenty minutes to reach town. Nora stopped
the wagon in front of the livery. Travis and Wyatt jumped down, unhitching the horses before securing the wagon for the night.

  Taking Sylvia’s hand, Mack walked her to the boardinghouse. Instead of going to the front door, he walked around the building to the creek in back. He stopped at the water’s edge. Watching it ripple past, Mack turned her to him.

  “I’m not ready to let you go quite yet.” Leaning down, he pressed a light kiss to her lips before wrapping his hands around her waist, tugging her close.

  Sylvia couldn’t remember when she’d been so happy. He hadn’t pressed her about her family, and she’d allowed him the same respite. Instead, they’d talked of more trivial things, laughing at stories each told, making vague references to a future. After almost a week, neither knew what the future held, but she sensed both wanted it to include the other.

  “I think Isabella is anxious to start a family.”

  Mack squeezed her waist, glancing down at her. “I’m not surprised. Travis lost his wife and daughter during the war. From the way he is with the children at the Pelletier ranch, I’m sure he’d be a good father.”

  Sylvia tilted her head, considering his words, wondering if Mack thought he’d be a good father. “Isabella said she either needs to find a job or have children.”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “From what I know, she has money from her previous marriage, and Travis wouldn’t want her to work. Guess that leaves children.”

  Her face brightened. “That’s almost exactly what Isabella said.”

  “Did you work in town or stay on the ranch back home?”

  Mack’s question surprised her. Recovering, she kept her gaze on the moving water. “I helped my parents on the ranch. I can ride as well as my brothers and have almost as much experience as them on cattle drives.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  Her brows rose. “Yes, and no. I do like the work Mr. Petermann gives me at the store. I help with orders, inventory, and he trusts me to work on the books. My father would never let me help with the accounts, although my brothers often assisted him.”

  “And the ranch work?” Mack watched her face, looking for any sign she regretted the changes in her life.

  “I do miss riding every day. It would be nothing for me to saddle my horse right after breakfast and stay out most of the day. I’m trying to save enough money to buy my own horse.” Sylvia didn’t say her bank account already had enough money for a horse, saddle, and tack. She wanted to do this on her own. Mack didn’t need to know. At least not yet.

  “I’ll buy you a horse, Sylvia.”

  An almost shocked expression stared back at him. “I couldn’t possibly allow you to do that, Adam.”

  “Why not? It’s my money and I can do with it what I want.”

  “Because it simply wouldn’t be right. What if, well…what if after four weeks we end up going our separate ways?” She worried her lower lip, returning her gaze to the water.

  “Do you believe that’s going to happen?”

  Without looking at him, she drew in a breath. “Do you believe you can fall in love with me?”

  He hated hearing the tremor in her voice. Clutching her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “I care about you, Sylvia. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. Can’t you accept what I can give you and not focus on what I can’t?”

  He felt her shoulders slump, releasing his hold. Mack hated disappointing her, but knew they couldn’t build a life based on a lie, and it would be a lie if he said he loved her.

  Doing her best to push aside her distress, she gave him a tentative smile, hoping he didn’t see how much she wanted his love. “I’m trying to accept what you want. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off.

  Mack felt a sharp pain in his chest at the look on her face. “It hasn’t been a week. Let’s not speak of this again until three weeks have passed.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “All right?”

  She nodded, determined to show him no matter how the courtship worked out, he didn’t need to worry about her. “You’re right. I want to enjoy all the time we have together and not examine each day as if it might be our final one.”

  Again, his gut clenched. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have tonight…or ever again. They could have such a wonderful life, if only she’d take what he could give.

  They stayed beside the creek several more minutes before Mack escorted her inside the boardinghouse to the base of the stairs. Bending, he placed a kiss on her cheek.

  “Are you working at the general store tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll come by to see you. Gabe has me working also. Allie and Cash asked us to have supper with them tomorrow night. Are you all right with us going to their place?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Yes. I’d love to see the apartment they have above her store.”

  Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he stepped away. “I’ll let Cash know.”

  She started up the stairs, then turned back. “Good night, Adam.”

  A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Good night, Sylvia.” He took a couple steps, then stopped, something nagging at him. Turning around, he called to her. “Sylvia?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he struggled with what he wanted to say.

  Her heart began to pound when he didn’t speak. “What is it?”

  “You know what I said about the saloons?”

  Throat tightening, she nodded.

  “I just want you to know I’m meeting Caleb and Dutch for a drink before heading home. I, well…” His voice faded, seeing the stress on her face. “I won’t be seeing any women. Just having a drink with friends.”

  Walking back down the stairs, she placed a hand on his arm. “I trust you, Adam.”

  He placed his hand over hers and squeezed, loving his name coming off her lips. “Good.” Mack waited until she’d walked to the second floor before leaving for the Dixie.

  Striding the short distance to the saloon, he drew in a deep breath of cool night air, glad he’d said something to her. Mack never wanted her to wonder about him or his actions. He’d been on the other end of deceit and knew how it felt. After all this time, it still burned a hole in his gut. The fact Sylvia said she trusted him eased his mind. The problem wasn’t so much her trust in him. He didn’t know how much he trusted her, especially with his heart.

  Pushing open the doors of the Dixie, he spotted Caleb and Dutch at a corner table, playing cards with a couple other men. Heading to the bar, he ordered a drink before joining them.

  “You want to play?” Caleb asked.

  Pulling out a chair, Mack sat down, taking a sip of his whiskey. “A couple hands, then I’m done. I’ve got the early shift tomorrow.”

  After a few more than a couple hands, the other two men stood, excusing themselves. Caleb waited until they’d walked out of earshot before dealing the cards for another round. Picking his up, he looked over the top of the cards at Mack.

  “How’s the campaign going?”

  Mack lifted a brow. “Campaign?”

  “To convince Sylvia to marry you without loving each other.”

  Dutch choked on the whiskey.

  Cursing, Mack threw down the cards, resting his arms on the table, an angry glare pinning his friend. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Caleb shrugged. “You heard what I said. It was a pretty clear question.”

  “Hell,” he groaned, scrubbing both hands down his face, looking at Caleb. “How did you hear about it?”

  “Does it matter?” He lowered his cards.

  Mack had an idea how Caleb heard about his stipulations for marriage, but let it go. He looked at Dutch. “This goes no further.”

  Dutch held up his hands, leaning back in his chair.

  Giving a curt nod, Mack scowled at Caleb. “You, more than anyone, should know why I’m not interested in forming a union based on the elusive notion of love. It means
nothing. My experience is you can’t build dreams or a future on something that changes faster than the wind.”

  “Not all women are like your fiancée.”

  “Ex-fiancée,” Mack growled.

  “If you ask me, you’re better off without the faithless shrew. Her marrying your cousin allowed you to meet Sylvia.”

  The air left Mack’s lungs, his anger lessening.

  “Do you have any idea how many men will gladly take your place if the courtship doesn’t work out?”

  Mack shook his head at Caleb. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  His jaw worked, but Mack didn’t respond.

  “I’ve known you for years and have never seen you behave with other women as you do around Sylvia. It may be time for you to consider forgetting what happened before and think about what losing her will cost you.”

  Mack stared at the ceiling, hands clasped behind his head—the same position he’d been in for hours as Caleb’s words forced their way into his head. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t shove them aside, nor could he allow himself to agree with his friend.

  He already knew the prize he had in Sylvia. Ignoring his suspicions she hadn’t been honest with him about her family, she was everything he desired in a woman. He simply didn’t understand the problem with his concept of marriage. It wasn’t new. Many couples married for reasons other than love.

  If they chose to go forward with marriage after the four weeks ended, he’d take care of Sylvia and their children, and she’d never have to wonder about him being faithful. He’d be a devoted husband, showering all his attention on her. What else could a woman want from a union?

  Mack had no issue supporting Caleb if he chose to marry for love. Each man had to make his own decision. Why couldn’t his friend support him the same way?

  Even though it had only been a week, Mack felt certain he could convince Sylvia of the wisdom of his thinking. She may believe love critical, but he knew he could convince her otherwise. Never had a woman been as responsive to his kisses as her. Once they wed, he had no doubt their lovemaking would be nothing short of extraordinary. To his irritation, the thought had his body hardening.