Brides of the West (6 page)

Once the beasts got sight of open range, they
took off in a race for the horizon. Tess looked to Jake for
instructions.

“Let ‘em go. They’ll stop to graze in a while
as if nothing happened and we’ll check that none are injured.”

Tess nodded, weariness grinding right down to
her bones.

The sun was already casting long shadows. She
had no idea they had taken so long with the cattle. The day had
disappeared in a flash. “It will be dark before we get home,” she
said.

Jake shook his head. “Can’t leave yet. First
we gotta mend the fence, then I need to figure out what spooked
those steers. If it was a wolf or a cat, I gotta deal with it.” His
brow furrowed. “If them critters get a taste for tame prey, they
don’t never leave the herd alone. I either gotta chase it off for
good or kill it.”

Tess felt sorry for the creature. “How will
we find our way back after dark?”

“We don’t,” Raven said, dismounting. “We
camp. I’ll light a fire while Jake and the boys mend the
fence.”

Jake touched the brim of his hat in
acknowledgement. He flung his saddlebag at the old Indian’s feet.
“Use whatever you need. Boys, follow me.” He turned his horse for
the fence.

Matt and Dave followed him, their young faces
grimy and weary, but still game.

Tess eased herself out of the saddle, keenly
aware of the stiffness in her thighs and the chafing of her nether
regions. It had been months since she’d been on horseback, and
never had she spent so long in the saddle at one time. The thought
of dipping her sore places in the cooling river below tempted her
greatly.

Raven threw her a rope. “Here. Hobble your
horse to graze. I’ll fetch up water in a minute.” He pulled the
canteen from his horse.

Hobble? She stared at his horse and realized
he had loosely tied its front feet together, so it couldn’t run.
She did the same to her mount. “I’ll get the water.”

He cast her a sideways glance. “You can
walk?”

He must have noticed her awkward gait.
“Easier than I can ride,” she replied with a chuckle.

“You must go upstream, where the water runs
slow. It’s tricky. Better let me go.”

She was sore, not an invalid. “I can
manage.”

He gazed at her from those fierce black eyes
for a moment, then nodded. “You are a strong woman.”

Ouch. He meant strong willed. Her greatest
fault according to Mother. Well she wasn’t going to change now, and
since it was all she had, her will would have to see her through.
She picked up all of the canteens and slung them over her
shoulder.

She made her way past Jake and the boys
working on the fence. Dave waggled his fingers, but Jake didn’t
look up. He knew she was there. She sensed his knowing in every
fiber of her being, in the tension across his shoulders, the fixed
gaze on his hands and the subtle angling of his body away from her
so their eyes didn’t have to meet.

His aversion could not be clearer.

To hell with him.

She trudged down the slope, slipping here and
there on the loose rock. This bank was clearly a deathtrap for the
unwary.

At the bottom, she headed upstream,
clambering over rocks slick from spray, edging around boulders that
teetered on the brink of the rushing stream, enjoying the respite
from the sun. She could understand the cattle wanting to drink.
Perhaps thirst had driven them into this dangerous place?

She rounded the bend, a sharp elbow of a
turn, and halted, mouth agape. It was a dead end. Water gushed from
a fissure in a wall of rock into a placid pool. Here, the gorge
narrowed to no more than a deep vee, with a pie slice of blue
directly overhead and a patch of springy grass at the water’s edge
surrounded by bushes and trees. Perfectly secluded. The
overwhelming need to feel clean turned the dust and sweat into a
tight crust on her skin. She glanced around. Everyone else was busy
with their chores. If she was quick...

She ducked into the bushes and stripped out
of her borrowed clothes.

***

Working swiftly, Jake knotted the ropes to
the standing post. “Here,” he said to Dave. “Run these down to the
post on the other side. Matt take the knife and cut the rope to
length like I showed you last week, then join it to that other
post. It’ll have to do
‘til
we can get
some more rails up here to rebuild the fence. I’m goin’ to have a
look farther along and see if I can see what sent ‘em over the
edge, then I’ll come and see how you’re doin’. Right?”

“Yes, boss,” Dave said with a grin. He set
off at a run, rope snaking behind him.

Matt hesitated. “That lady. Tess. She ain’t
so bad after all.” He flushed red and dashed after his brother,
head down and arms pumping.

Jake stared at the running boy, a knot
forming in his gut. What the hell did he mean? Had Uncle Raven put
some crazed notion in the lad’s head? Jake wouldn’t put it past the
old buzzard to try some old Indian match-making trick.

Suddenly, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut
back there at the crossroads, given the whole thing a chance. Who
was he fooling? She’d made it perfectly clear she wanted to leave,
to hit the nearest town. Hell, she would’ve been gone by now if not
for those damned steers breaking down the fence. Just because she
could ride a horse and had faced a herd of angry cattle as well as
any of them didn’t make her good wife material. Not when she didn’t
want to stay.

The same kind of woman had sent Bill to his
death and left the boys deeply wounded. He couldn’t allow the boys
to suffer that kind of rejection again. He knew how bad it
felt.

He gave his knots a hard tug, fixed one that
looked loose and then followed the fence along the top of the cliff
looking for signs of whatever had disturbed the herd. This wasn’t
the first time cattle had gone over the bluff, but never so many
all at once. He inspected the ridge for tracks. Nothing. He peered
over the sheer drop into the narrowest part of the fissure.

His mouth dried. He closed his eyes and
opened them again to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. There, where the
water fell into inky depths, Tess lay in the shallows, her long
hair a halo around her head and her body white and clearly visible
through her thigh-length clinging shift.

Dear God. She looked like one of them
mermaids. Her limbs were long and slender and beautifully curved,
her belly flat like a young girl’s and the curls at the juncture of
her thighs a dark red triangle and all the more erotic because of
their transparent veil. He let his gaze drift to her high tiny
breasts and their rose-tinted peaks. He imagined the nipples tight
and hard. They weren’t the only things tight and hard. His erection
was going to burst his belt buckle. He glanced over his shoulder,
wanting to do the gentlemanly thing and walk away, not wanting
anyone else to see her in all her glory.

Leisurely, she rolled onto her stomach,
revealing rounded buttocks, the crevasse between a hypnotic draw.
The dimples at the base of her spine begged his exploration. He
groaned his frustration as a few splashy strokes brought her to the
bank. She stood up, ankle deep, her hair cascading water down her
elfin body.

She wrung the water from her hair, and pushed
it back, her body arching like a bow. He knew poets had the words
to describe women. The only one in his vocabulary was goddess. He
wanted her. And the wanting drove so deep it hurt.

Lust grabbed him hard and wrung his withers.
He almost let go a yell of frustration as she slipped on her shirt,
then sat to shimmy into Matt’s pants. Jesus. What was he doing
peeping at her like some perverted old man?

He turned his back and ran
hell
for leather to find the boys.

Tomorrow. He’d get her to San Antonio
tomorrow, come hell or high water.

***

By the time Tess returned from her bath,
Raven had a fire lighted and three small tent-like constructions
made from branches and horse blankets. He told Tess the tents were
for her and the boys, he and Jake would sleep in the open. He
cooked over the fire while they waited for Jake and the boys to
return from checking the cattle. They also went down to the stream
to wash up.

The mess of pork and beans Raven called
supper was mouth wateringly wonderful. She recalled the picnics of
her youth, family outings on Hampstead Heath, when the food always
tasted better in the open air. She glanced across the fire at Jake
who appeared lost in thought, as he had been for most of the
meal.

Dave yawned and rolled on his side, one hand
propping his head.

“Bed,” Raven said.

“Not yet,” Dave whined. “Ain’t we goin’ to
sing around the fire?” He appealed to Jake. “It’s our first camp
out of the summer. We always have singin’.”

“What do you sing?” Fascinated, Tess leaned
back against her saddle.

“Cowboy songs,” Matt said, nicely excluding
her.

She kept her smile to herself. “I’ve never
heard any cowboy songs.”

“Boys,” Jake said his voice full of gravel,
“next time.”

Little Dave’s face dropped.

“A couple of songs won’t hurt,” Raven
murmured.

“You know, I ain’t got much of a voice,” Jake
said. Then he threw up his hands at the sight of the two glum
faces. “One. But y‘all have to join in.”

The song talked of cowboys and their work,
dogies and lassoes and a lot of other words that made no sense to
Tess.

He was wrong about his voice though. It was a
beautiful bass timbre that carried soft and low on the night air.
It strummed at her woman’s core, and at her heart. This man spoke
to her in ways she couldn’t fathom. After tomorrow she would never
see him again. The ache in her chest intensified. She swallowed her
tears. Tears were for weaklings. She had come out here to find
Albert, to make him come home. Jake and his strange little family
were never part of the plan.

The boys joined in the chorus and she hummed
along. It was blissful—the stars above, the warm night air with a
faint breath of wind to keep it from being oppressive.

As the notes died away, she thought of her
own family, the songs they had sung in the workshop, the scent of
the leather saddle at her back sharpening the memories.

“You sing,” Dave said pointing at her.

She opened her mouth to refuse, but couldn’t
quite resist the longing in his voice.

One song in particular stuck in her head from
her childhood, a time when she still cherished the ideals of youth.
It surprised her how easily she started the first verse.

“
Early one morning just as the sun was
rising, I heard a maiden singing in the valley below. Oh don’t
deceive me, Oh never leave me, how could you use a poor maiden
so.”

Her voice wasn’t pretty, it grated like sand
on metal Mother always said, but she had always loved the sad
romance of that ballad. A wry smile curled her lips. Romance was
for other girls. And besides, she glanced at Jake across the fire,
who avoided her gaze, it could be a painful affair.

The men sat quietly until she finished the
chorus.

“Hey,” said Dave. “That was great.”

Raven clapped and Jake joined him. Matt just
stared at the fire, the firelight glinting off moisture in his
eyes. Obviously the wrong choice of a song.

“Time for bed,” Jake said firmly.

Grumbling, but apparently good-natured, the
two boys disappeared into their makeshift shelters.

Tess gathered up the metal dishes. “Since
Raven cooked, I’ll wash. I’ll take them down to the river.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jake said.

That was the last thing she needed. She’d
thought to get out of his disturbing presence, not be alone with
him. “No need.”

“Snakes,” he said. “Water Moccasins.”

“What,” she almost shrieked, thinking of her
bath.

He raised a brow.

“Perhaps we should leave the dishes until
morning?” she said.

He shook his head. “The smell of food will
bring other critters once the fire dies down, coyotes, and
such.”

“Oh my, this is certainly a dangerous
place.”

He gave her a hard stare. “That it is.”

“Is it safe to walk down to the river at
night?”

“Sure. If I go with you.”

Defeated, she picked up the tin plates and
mugs. They walked side by side down the slope. The silvery light
gave the damp ground a dull glow.

He handed her over the slippery rocks she’d
clambered this afternoon and they knelt side by side at the edge of
the pool, her washing, him drying on the rag he’d brought along,
the waterfall splashing into the still water like a black snake
with reflective scales. She tried to pretend this was nothing
unusual, the dark and the presence of a large warm man at her side,
that it didn’t shorten her breath or quicken her heartbeat.

“You did a good job today,” he murmured close
to her ear.

Her heart seemed to grow and swell in her
chest. Compliments were few and far between in her life. “Thank
you. I am glad we managed to save your cows.”

“Cattle,” he growled.

She laughed.

He rose to his feet and helped her to stand.
They faced each other, practically toe to toe. “I’m sorry things
couldn’t work out between us,” he said, gazing down into her face,
his eyes catching the light, his expression shadowed.

Was it really regret in his voice, or simply
guilt? It didn’t matter. The die was cast. “It has been an
interesting experience.” She preferred to keep things light rather
than reveal the painful sense that she’d lost something far more
valuable than her money and her luggage.

In the dark, he seemed dreadfully close, the
heat of his body, the scent of hard working man, sweat and musk and
a trace of cigar. If she didn’t know it was imagination, she would
say his heartbeat kept time with hers. She was having trouble
breathing, as if he somehow used up the air around them. The night
closed around them as if they were alone in the world, free to do
as they wished, no duty, no obligations, just two strangers who
would never meet again.