Diamond Spur (34 page)

She pursed her lips. The bank president was a good friend of the family. If Kate approached him in the right way, she just might get him to discover unexpected dividends from some of Jason's stock to report to Jason. That might disguise the true nature of the deposit, which Kate had to make sure Jason didn't find out about. It just might work, she decided.

Jason was downstairs when she finally got there, always one jump ahead of her when it came to dressing. He seemed to appear in his clothing, as if he never had to put it on at all. He was in a charcoal gray suit this morning, and he looked debonair and unusually flashy with a red pouf in his chest pocket that matched his bloodred, patterned tie. "Well, aren't we spiffy looking," Kate mused, grinning at him as she sat down next to him at the long table.

"We sure are," Sheila remarked, grinning herself as she put a platter of biscuits next to the eggs,

hash browns, sausage and bacon platters already on the table. "My, my, there's that Kate all

flushed and looking like a bride, and Jason's bed not even slept in all night long. A body could

get suspicious."

Kate went beet red and so did Jason, of all people. He glared at Sheila with eyes that

promised murder.

"I ought to bludgeon you with the coffeepot," he said shortly.

"You'd attack your own cook?!" Sheila exclaimed, holding both hands to her breast. "You'd

assault a helpless old woman who spent all morning stalking a wild hog, and hauled it up on chains

and skinned it out and dressed it and ran it through a sausage grinder, just so you could have

fresh sausage on your breakfast table?!"

Jason stared at her coldly. "You didn't have time to skin out a hog."

Sheila shrugged. "I had to take it out of the refrigerator and get the wrapping off, with my poor

old hands eaten up with arthritis," she amended. She grinned. "But it sounded better my way,

didn't it?"

He turned over his coffee cup with a smile doing its best to get past his teeth. "Oh, hell, sit down

and eat your breakfast."

"Can't," Sheila said, removing her apron. "I'm on my way to Laredo with Mrs. Carstairs

from down the road. We're going shopping for serapes."

"I guess that means cold cuts for lunch," Jason sighed.

"We don't have any cold cuts," Sheila replied. She smiled. "You might take Kate out to

lunch."

"Kate only gets a half hour, Cupid," Kate murmured dryly.

"He could have a sandwich with you in the canteen, couldn't he?" Sheila persisted.

"Of course he could," Jason said resignedly. "I had planned to do that, without any prompting from you." Sheila chuckled. "Now isn't that nice," she sighed. "So you can put up your bow and arrows," he added curtly.

"I'll just stick them in the cupboard, so's I can shoot you some nice steak for your supper, my lord," Sheila murmured, dropping him a convincing curtsy.

He picked up a fork and Kate had never seen the older woman move so fast, giggling all the way.

"You animal," Kate accused.

"I wouldn't stab her," he replied. "God knows, I'm a patient man, I've put up with it all my life without killing her." "I had noticed that you're a man of great patience," she agreed with an impish smile. He pursed his lips and searched her green eyes. "After last night, I should hope so," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

She went red again, and he laughed, bending over to kiss her.

"What time do you have lunch?" he whispered.

She was having trouble thinking. "I...usually go at eleven-thirty, so the girls can go at twelve," she whispered back. "Do you? Open your mouth a little...." She did, and it was like the night before, a stormy interlude that quickened her pulse and made her

breathless with undisguised hunger for him.

He lifted his head after a minute, breathing roughly himself. His dark eyes were almost black. "You can't imagine what it does to me, to kiss you like that," he whispered gruffly. "It's like making love completely when I do it with you."

"Oh, don't," she moaned, "I'll die of longing."

He took a slow breath and nuzzled her nose with his. "So will I, honey. Isn't it a sweet way to go?"

"So sweet..." She kissed him gently, loving the way his mouth responded so easily to hers. She smiled against it. "I love this," she whispered. "I could never let go completely before, but now I can, and when I give in to you, I

don't feel ashamed afterward of what I've said and done and thought...." He lifted his head, his eyes stunned. "Did you?" he asked. "Did you feel that way, after we made love?" "Yes," she confessed. She curled her fingers into his, and tugged at them idly. "It didn't embarrass me at the time, but later, it all seemed so intimate and...and kind of..."

"...dirty?" She looked up. "Yes," she said. His fingers contracted, "I told you how my father felt," he reminded her. "Sex was an animal instinct, he said, and no real man needed it." He brushed his lips against her fingers. "I guess, deep down, I had learned to feel that way about it, too. But after I made love to you, that started to change. It was something more than a mating urge. It was too tender most of the time, too profound. And last night, honey, all the walls went down. Every one. Last night was creation. I learned things about you and about myself that I never knew. That wasn't lust. That was loving. That was the kind of loving,'' he emphasized softly,' 'that plants seed and grows fruit. The kind of loving that brings a new life into the world, not a seamy kind of quick satisfaction that reduces a beautiful act to a sordid coupling." "You make it sound profound," she said gently. "Isn't it profound?" he asked, smiling. "When two people express what they feel for each other in that way, so that the very force of the feeling creates life? My God, Kate, is anything more profound than that?"

She laid her cheek against his hand. "I thought you had hang-ups," she murmured. "It sounds as if you've gotten rid of them." "I've gotten things in perspective, that's all." He tangled her fingers back into his. "And I'm still learning. My father had problems. But they aren't mine, unless I let them be." He searched her eyes. "What we shared in that bed last night wasn't dirty. And whatever we do together, however we do it, it isn't anything to be ashamed of afterwards. We're both vulnerable, Kate," he added softly. "That used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore. I don't mind letting the barriers down with someone who loves me." She nuzzled her cheek against his. "That sounds nice." "No one else ever did, Kate," he said, half under his breath, in a tone that was dark and soft. "I told you that in Jamaica, and I meant it. You're the only person in the world who ever loved me." "Oh, that's not so," she said, getting up. She pulled his head against her breasts, cradling it there. "Jason, your father loved you. He had to. There was good in him, or how could your mother have cared about him? And your mother loved you...." "Did she?" He pulled back, his eyes fierce. "Damn her, she put herself first. She left us here with that madman! She ran. I watched him try to go after her...." He stopped, fighting down the memory of that night. He'd been almost fifteen, he'd never forgotten what he saw, but he'd never let himself think about it. He clammed up. Kate searched his eyes. 'You still blame your father for his drinking and your mother for her desertion, after all this time. I don't think you've ever tried seeing it from their point of view, have you?" she asked gently. "No, don't blow up at me," she whispered, and she put her hands very tenderly against his hard mouth, quietening him as if by magic. "Listen. People aren't perfect. You've tried to be. You've been afraid to make mistakes, because that would mean you might end up like they did, you might be flawed. But we all make mistakes, Jason. We're all human. Your father was weak, and in a way, so was your mother. But that's just human." "It's weakness," he ground out. "If you're weak, you get hurt." She smiled, nuzzling her face against his. "I'd never hurt you," she whispered, and her mouth softly rubbed over his lips. "I love you too much." His eyes met hers, tormented. "Kate...she loved him, at first." Kate kissed him tenderly, loving the way he was with her, loving the way he let her get close, let her touch him.

She nibbled his lower lip and smiled. "I love you," she whispered. "And you can't do anything

horrible enough to make me leave you. Does that make you feel less threatened?"

He sighed heavily. "I don't know."

That was a setback, but only a temporary one. He cared for her. She could make him love her, it would just take time. "Jason, wouldn't it be as well to go and see your mother," she suggested hesitantly. "While she's still alive? And ask her all the questions you never asked your father?"

He didn't move for a long time. His dark eyes thoughtful, he finally pulled away and got up, lighting a cigarette with steady fingers. "I don't want to see her." "Why? Are you afraid of what you might find out?" "I'm afraid I might break her neck," he said curtly. And in that instant, he looked almost capable of it.

"I guess it's never occurred to you that she might have had a reason for what she did," Kate murmured gently.

"She had a reason, all right," he shot back. "Her own safety."

"Have it your own way," she sighed. "You've got it imbedded in concrete, and nobody's going to change your mind. But she can't be a young woman any more," she added without emphasizing it. "Once she's gone, there won't be anyone alive who knows the truth. Not even you."

He didn't say anything. That was a good sign, she thought, silently pleased with herself. When he didn't say anything, he was considering it.

"I've got to run," she said as she swallowed the rest of her coffee, "I'll be late."

He put out his cigarette. "I'll drop you off on my way to the bank."

She smiled as he got up and slid his hand gently into hers. She couldn't remember a time in her life when she'd been happier, or when she'd felt closer to him. If only it

would last, this lovely newness. Her fingers curled trustingly around his as she fell into step

beside him.

Kate found herself watching the clock at work, despite the fact that she was doing some of the

best work she'd ever produced. Her Alamo collection was taking shape beautifully. Mr. Rogers

was delighted with her ideas for fabrics, and immediately got on the phone to one of the

company's fabric designers. This was the first time she'd had access to actual fabric design, and it

was exciting.

Jason came into the canteen at eleven-thirty on the dot, but he wasn't the same smiling man Kate had left that morning. He was tired and there were deeper lines in his face than usual. But he still dredged up a smile for her when she got her coffee and sandwich and sat down beside him.

"It didn't go well, I gather?" she asked gently, smoothing her fingers over the back of his big, lean hand with fascinated delight

He turned his hand and caught her fingers gently. "You read me too well," he mused. He meant it, but oddly enough it didn't bother him anymore. He didn't mind having Kate know his secrets, because she loved him. But there was still one last hurdle. He hadn't admitted how he felt,
how obsessively he loved her. He couldn't let her know just how vulnerable he was. His father had loved Nell Donavan, and she'd used that weakness against him. What if Kate someday did that to him?

She looked up and caught that strange expression. "Is my makeup smeared or something?" she teased softly. "You look lovely. You always do, to me," he replied, putting away his disturbing thoughts.

"They turned me down, Kate." She tightened her grip on his hand. "I'm sorry. Is there an alternative?" He laughed curtly. "Sure. There's a public auction." Her heart seemed to stop beating. Despite what he'd said about not minding it, if it came down to

choosing between losing the ranch or losing her, she knew what the Spur meant to him. "Is that for certain, or just a possibility?" "I can't even pay the interest, unless I start selling off my breeding herd, Kate," he replied. "And if I do that, then that's the end of the Spur anyway. I'm going to fly out to Houston and talk to some people I know. Then I want to go to Oklahoma and up to Montana. It's going to be a lot of traveling in the weeks before Christmas, but it's

necessary."

She sighed. "Can't I go with you?" she asked hopefully
.
"I have to keep my mind on business for just a little while," he said, smiling. "Okay?
"
She laid her head against his shoulder briefly, mindful of amused, indulgent smiles aroun
d

them. "Okay. When will you go?" "As soon as I can get a flight," he told her. "I'll call you every night, but it may be three weeks before I get home. I'm sorry. It's just that it might mean the difference if I can get some backers."

She searched his dark eyes. "I told you that I'd give you what I have. I've got almost thirty thousand dollars saved...."

"No." He put his fingers against her lips. That much would have been more than enough to give him the time he needed, but he couldn't bend his pride enough to take help from a woman. Not even when she was his wife. "Can you walk out with me, or will we have an audience?"

"I can walk out with you and of course we'll have an audience." He smiled, shaking his head. "Come on, then, we'll sneak off in the car long enough to kiss each other stupid, and then I'll leave." She found herself in the Mercedes with him, in the back row of the parking lot, too far away for anyone to get a decent look. He kissed her until her lips were swollen. "God, that's sweet," he breathed against her lips. "I'm going to miss you like hell, baby doll." "I'll miss you, too. You'll really call me every night?" "You'd better believe I will. You can have Mary come over and stay with you while I'm gone, if you want to." "Mama has a new group of friends and they have something to do every night of the week," Kate sighed. "Sometimes I think she's forgotten that she has a daughter, although I do see her here most days." "She's letting you get settled down," he murmured dryly. "I'll bet she remembers her first months of marriage to your father." "Maybe she does at that." She touched his hard cheek. "Don't flirt with other girls." "As if they'd even notice, if I did," he chuckled. He traced her nose with his lips. "You're the one I worry about, you sexy little woman. Keep those sultry eyes to yourself until I come home." She smiled lazily. "My sultry eyes and I will be right here, waiting. As if I'd waste myself on a lesser man," she teased delightedly and was kissed roughly for her pains. "You're good for my ego," he whispered. "That works both ways. But I promise I'll be good." And the promise lasted until two weeks later, when she got the first of her contract money for the new designs. She took an

hour off from work and went to see Mr. Baker, the bank president of the San Frio People's Bank, and gave him her entire savings to pay off the pending note cm the Spur.

She swore him to secrecy, but she knew that Jason wouldn't let it rest until he found out where the money had come from. She just hoped that he cared about her enough to unruffle eventually. She couldn't let him lose the Spur.

Later, she went to the small house that Cherry and Gene were buying, a two-bedroom brick one just down the road a few miles from the Donavan place. Since Gene had a stake in the ranch, too, she felt obliged to tell him what she'd done.

"Jason will kill you," Gene mused, adding to her own misgivings.

"Oh, I know," Kate groaned. "But what else can I do? I can't let him lose it!"

"Neither could I," Gene agreed. "And if I had any savings, I'd already have thrown them into

the kitty. I have prospects and a small trust, but I can't touch it for another four years. Hell of a mess, isn't it?"

"I'm glad Kate stepped in," Cherry said as she brought in a tray with coffee and cookies on it. She didn't look very pregnant yet, but she had the glow and the soft flush that told their own story. "Jason is your husband. He shouldn't mind letting you help."

"You don't know Jason," Gene told his petite wife. "He's got the pride of a martyr. He'll never

let her do it."

"He can't stop me," Kate reminded him. "It's already done. But he can be so unbending

sometimes. I wish he'd go and see your mother," she added gently, meeting Gene's quiet eyes.

He sighed. "If he doesn't, within a month or two, I'm going to," he said. "We've neither of

us ever heard her side of it. We never really heard Dad's, because he wouldn't talk about her.

But I think she's entitled to a hearing, even if Jason doesn't."

"He may surprise you both someday by producing her," Cherry said. "Maybe he's curious,

too."

"If he is, he's keeping it very quiet," Gene said.

Kate studied the face that was like the shadow of her rugged husband's. "Gene, do you hate

her?"

He shrugged. "I don't feel anything. I was too small when she left. I'm curious. I don't think I

hate her, although I could for what happened to Jason because she left. He protected me. But

there was never anybody to protect Jason."

Kate could have cried, thinking about that lonely boy that Jason had been. It was so painful that when Cherry began to talk about their plans for the baby, even that was a welcome change of subject. Kate still grieved for the baby she'd lost, but now there was at least the hope of another child. In fact, it might be more than hope, because her period was late and by the third week Jason was gone she was feeling some vague nausea.

The time Jason was away was cheered only by the nightly calls, which he was careful to make after Sheila had gone to bed. Probably, Kate thought, to spare her blushes, because he talked to her like a lover, now. Conversation was laced with shared memories, and endearments, and lazy teasing. He was like a different man, so open and loving and warm that Kate was lulled into a sense of fantasy.

She had Red Barton drive her to the airport the day Jason got home. He looked tired, his powerful body a little sluggish as he moved through the milling tourists with his travel bag over one shoulder, his Stetson hiding his dark eyes, and his navy vest suit straining against hard muscle as he moved with lean grace.

He looked up as she approached him, and like magic, all the weariness left him. She ran to him, laughing, her green eyes full of love. He dropped the bag and caught her up by the waist, swinging her up against him with pure delight in his smile. "Well, what a sweet surprise," he murmured as he bent to her mouth. "Dessert already, and I haven't even had lunch...." She smiled under his hard, hungry mouth, clinging to him with loving abandon.

"I missed you," he whispered. "The nights went on forever." "So did the days," she whispered back. She sighed happily, her eyes lost in his. "Don't go away again." "Not for fifty years, at least." He kissed her again and then let her down, his dark gaze approving her neat black and white fitted suit. "Nice," he murmured. "Did you make it?"

"I sure did. On my very own sewing machine at home. Maybe someday we'll have a little girl, and I can make things for her," she added, her voice soft with dreams. And he knew then that her fear of losing another baby was fading. She was looking ahead, not behind.

"I'd like that, too." He touched her neat coiffure. "I'd like a son as well."

"I'll keep that in mind," she teased.

He picked up his bag and took her arm. "Well, we're not out of the woods by any long shot,

but I've got enough backing to keep us running for six more months," he said. "By that time, I

think I'll have my feedlot in operation and those new crossbreeds I've been breeding from Indian

strains should be throwing calves."

Kate's heart froze. She hoped that she hadn't jumped the gun by doing what he'd forbidden her

to and bailing him out. A man's pride was a delicate thing. Especially a man like Jason. She'd

only been thinking of helping him, but he liked to stand on his own feet and do things his

way. He might not see it as helping. He might actually see it as an attempt to take him over, to

buy him.

She looked up at his dark face, and she almost told him. But he smiled, and bent, and brushed

his mouth with ex

quisite tenderness over hers. Later, she thought She'd tell him later.

"Welcome home, boss man," Red Barton drawled as Jason and Kate got out to the ranch pickup truck. Jason glared at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I drove Miss Kate," Red replied. He raised his eyebrows at the unfamiliar sight of his

taciturn boss with an arm around Miss Kate and a look on his face that even a blind man would

have recognized as a frustrated desire to be alone with her. "Gosh, I'm sorry I didn't bring the

car. Then you two could have sat in the back seat and.. .talked," he added with a meaningful smile.

But the smile vanished when the look in Jason's eyes made him immediately into a dignified

cowboy. "Just get right in, Miss Kate, and I'll have you two home in no time!" he said with

exaggerated politeness.

Jason muttered as he tossed his bag in the boot and got in beside Kate. "I wish to God I

understood the perverted sense of justice that makes me keep you around, Barton."

"Well, boss, what it came right down to was that you either had to keep me or that rattlesnake I saved you from,'' Red told him reasonably as he started the truck with a wry glance. "And we both know how you hate snakes."

Jason actually grinned. But he didn't let Barton see him do it. That night was like the first time. He made love to her with such aching tenderness that she clung to him afterwards, trembling in the aftermath of a loving like none she'd experienced before. He kissed her mouth, his dark eyes watching her in the swath of moonlight that filtered across the bed. "Happy?" he whispered. "So happy," she whispered back. She nuzzled her face against his damp, hairy chest, loving the abrasiveness of it against her body. "It gets better every time." "You make me whole," he said quietly. "The world begins and ends with you, now." She kissed his throat. "And for me, it begins and ends with you. I never knew I could be so happy." "Tomorrow, suppose we go Christmas shopping?" "Just the two of us?" she asked drowsily. "Just the two of us. I'll drive you into San Antonio and give you a credit card." "I already have one, thanks. Not with your credit line, I'll bet," she teased, "but I have a respectable one of my own."