Elizabeth Lowell (42 page)

“Drop it,” Ty said flatly.

Logan’s smile changed indefinably, becoming almost sympathetic as he realized Ty’s dilemma. For years Ty had been pursued by the finest that southern and northern society had to offer. He had turned everyone down in his own pursuit of a dream of the perfect silken lady. Now he found himself hopelessly ensnarled with a wild, gray-eyed waif whose voice could set fire to stone.

Logan leaned over and cuffed Ty’s shoulder with rough affection. “Forget the gold, little brother. I’ll turn Silver loose on your uncurried mustang lady. In a few weeks you’ll never know she wasn’t paddock born and raised.”

Janna turned her face away, trying to conceal the red tide that climbed up her face as she thought of the unbridgeable gap between silk purses and sows’ ears. Eyes closed, she held on to Ty, saying goodbye to him in silence, for she knew with bittersweet certainty that he would go after the gold.

And she would walk away from the MacKenzies and never look back, freeing Ty to pursue his dream.

“You planning on taking her to Wyoming?” Case asked. Like his eyes, his voice was cool, passionless. He had been watching Janna with measuring intelligence.

Ty turned and glared at Case. “Yes. You have any objections?”

“Not a one.”

Ty waited.

“She doesn’t want to go,” Case added matter-of-factly.

“She’ll go just the same.”

“Is she carrying MacKenzie blood in her womb?”

If anyone else had asked that question, Ty would have beaten him into the ground. But Case wasn’t anyone else. Because Case had destroyed or walled off all emotion within himself, he didn’t concede its presence in anyone else.

“She could be carrying my child,” Ty said tightly.

“Then she’ll be in Wyoming when you get there.”

With no warning Case bent over, plucked Janna from Lucifer’s back and put her across his saddle.

“Ty!”

“It’s all right. Case will take good care of you.” Ty smiled oddly. “Don’t try running from him, sugar. He’s the best hunter of all of us.”

“They must have magic mirrors in Wyoming,” Janna said, looking in disbelief at her own reflection. “That can’t be me.”

Silver MacKenzie smiled, touched up the dusting of rouge on Janna’s cheeks and stepped back to view the results. “It’s amazing what three weeks of regular food and sleep can do for a body, isn’t it?”

“More like four,” Janna said.

Silver’s ice-blue eyes closed for an instant as she composed herself. The thought of losing Logan made her heart freeze.

“I’m sure the men are all right,” Silver said firmly. “It must have been harder to find the gold than they thought, that’s all. Perhaps Ty couldn’t remember precisely where he cut the saddlebags loose. You left rather in a rush, from what Case said.”

Janna smiled wanly. “You could say that. At least, Ty was in a rush to get away.”

“Speaking of getting away…” Silver began, changing the subject eagerly.

A flush crawled up Janna’s cheeks as she remembered the night after she had arrived in Wyoming. Case had dropped her rather unceremoniously at the doorstep, told Silver that Janna had come to be combed and curried like a paddock horse for Ty and that she might be carrying Ty’s child. Silver had been sympathetic, Cassie had been angelic, and Janna had gone out the second-story window the first time everyone’s back was turned.

The next morning a very tight-lipped Case had brought Janna back, set her on the doorstep and told her that she could give her word not to run until Ty came back or she could spend the time waiting for him trussed hand and foot like a chicken going to market.

“…now you know why men like their women dressed in yards of silk,” Silver finished. She blew a wisp of moon-pale hair away from her lips as she bent and adjusted the voluminous skirt of Janna’s cream silk ball gown.

“What?” asked Janna, distracted by her memories.

“We can’t run worth a darn for all the hoops and flounces, that’s why. The best we can manage is a serene face and a dignified, very slow exit.”

Janna smiled just as Silver straightened. The older woman stared, caught by the sight Janna made. Her dark auburn hair was piled high in deceptively simple coils, which had been threaded through with strings of pearls. Pearls circled her neck in a delicate choker whose centerpiece was a ruby that had been in Silver’s family for three hundred years. Earrings of pearl and teardrop rubies hung from Janna’s ears. The ball gown’s off-the-shoulder style dipped to a modest point in the front. The hint of a shadow between Janna’s breasts was as seductive as the lines of the ball gown were simple. A brooch of ruby and pearls was pinned at the base of the gentle décolletage. With each breath, each movement, ruby fire shimmered, echoing the secret fire of Janna’s hair.

“Shadow of Flame,” Silver murmured. “The renegades saw you very clearly, didn’t they? You’re really quite stunning. The dress looks far better on you than it ever did on me, as do the rubies.”

“It’s very kind of you to say so.”

“The truth is rarely kind,” Silver said grimly.

Janna saw the shadows of worry on Silver’s face and knew that she was concerned about her husband.

“I’m sure Logan is all right,” Janna said. “He’s a smart, tough man.”

“All the MacKenzies are smart and tough. Even the women. You’ll fit in just fine.”

There was silence, then Janna said huskily, “Ty wanted something different in his wife.”

“Ah, yes, Ty’s famous silken lady.” Silver saw Janna wince. “Don’t worry, he’ll take one look at you and see the woman of his dreams. He may be MacKenzie stubborn but he’s not stone-blind.”

Tears ached behind Janna’s eyes at hearing her own secret dream spoken aloud. The hope of having Ty turn to her and see his silken lady was so overpowering that she was helpless against it. That, as much as Case’s threat, had held her in Wyoming.

Silver’s hand rested lightly on Janna’s cheek. “Does he know how much you love him?”

Janna nodded slowly and whispered, “It wasn’t enough. His dream…”

“It was the war, Janna. Each MacKenzie responded to it differently. Logan wanted revenge.” Silver’s mouth turned down in sad remembrance. “He found it, but it wasn’t what he thought it was. I think Ty will discover that silk isn’t what he thought it was, either.”

A call came from the front of the house. Both women froze in wild hope before they realized that it was Case greeting guests rather than announcing the return of Blue Wolf and the MacKenzie brothers.

But Janna had to be sure. She ran to the window and looked out. The first of the guests were indeed arriving.

“I still find it hard to believe that there are lords and ladies running loose about Wyoming,” Janna said.

Silver smiled wryly. “Unfortunately, it’s true. What’s worse, I’m related to most of them by blood or marriage.”

She looked out the window. “Those specimens are Cousin Henry’s guests. They don’t actually live in Wyoming. They just came here to hunt.” She sighed and shook out the folds of her skirt so that it fell properly. “I’d better go meet them. Case has impeccable manners, but he tires of the game very quickly. I don’t want Melissa to drive him away before the ball even begins. He’s a marvelous dancer. Almost as good as Ty.”

“I can’t imagine a woman driving Case anywhere.”

“It’s my fault, really,” Silver said as she hurried out the bedroom door, her ballgown billowing gracefully. “I made him promise not to hurt Melissa’s feelings. Case takes promises very seriously. Come down as soon as you’re ready, but don’t be too long. Everyone is dying to meet you. Women are so rare in this place. Especially young and pretty women.”

Janna looked in the mirror for a moment longer. A stranger looked back at her, a woman not unlike her mother in elegant appearance, but a stranger all the same. Janna wondered if she would ever become used to dresses and rustling folds of cloth. Even after nearly a month, she was still aware of the muffling yards of material swathing her legs and the contrasting snugness of bodice and waist. Even if the cloth had allowed her to run, the tight waist would have made deep breathing impossible.

The shoes were the hardest to bear, however. They pinched.

She looked toward the armoire, where her father’s hand-me-downs hung. She had washed and mended the clothes very carefully, for they were all that she could call her own. Her moccasins were patched as well, using doeskin she had traded a few of her precious herbs to obtain. Her canteen, medicine pouch and ragged blanket roll were set aside, waiting to be picked up on a moment’s notice.

Maybe I won
’
t need them. Maybe Ty will look at me and see a woman he could love. Maybe
…

With hands whose creamy softness still surprised Janna from time to time, she reached into the medicine pouch and pulled out the sketch of her mother. Broodingly she looked from her reflection in the mirror to the sketch and then to her reflection again.

Will what he sees please him? Will he turn to me out of love rather than duty?

After a few minutes she set the sketch aside and went downstairs through the huge ranch house, which had been restored after a fire had all but razed it. She walked through rooms whose furniture had been shipped from England and France and whose rugs had come from China. She barely noticed the elegant furnishings. Nor did the sparkle of crystal reflecting candle flames catch her eye. In her mind she was once again in the secret valley, where Ty was holding out his arms to her with a smile on his face and love in his eyes.

Janna went through the ritual of introductions and polite words, moving with a natural grace that enhanced the seductive rustling of silk around her body. Men were drawn to her, both because of her restrained beauty and the natural thirst of men in a rough country for that which was soft and fragile. She was like the ruby between her breasts—clear yet enigmatic, sparkling yet self-contained, the color of fire yet cool to the touch. When the violins played she danced with men from neighboring ranches, men both titled and common, men who shared a common interest—Janna—and a common complaint—her lack of interest in them.

“May I have this dance?”

With a subdued start, Janna focused on the man who was standing between herself and the blaze of candlelight from the buffet table. For one heart-stopping instant she thought that Ty had come back. Then she realized that the familiar, broad-shouldered silhouette belonged to Case.

“Yes, of course,” she said, extending her hand to take his.

Moments later she was whirling and turning to the stately strains of a waltz played by Silver on the grand piano. The music was rich and civilized, a brocade of sound embroidered upon the wilderness night. Case danced with the casual perfection of a cat stalking prey.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said.

She looked up at his pale green eyes. “That’s not necessary. I gave you my word. I’ll keep that word.”

He nodded. “I wasn’t worried about that. I was afraid that you’d get to believing all the polite nonsense Silver’s cousins and guests are pouring into your ear.”

With a smile that hovered on the brink of turning upside down, Janna shook her head. “I know what I am and what I’m not,” she said huskily. “I’m not the ‘fairest flower ever to bloom on the western land,’ among other things. Nor am I a fool. I know what men hope to gain by flattering a woman.” She met Case’s eyes and said evenly, “Your brother didn’t lie to me in any way, even that one. He always stated quite clearly that my feminine attractions were...modest.”

Case looked at the proud, unhappy set of her mouth. “That doesn’t sound like Ty. He always had a line of flowery speech that was the envy of every man around.”

“Flowers and silk go together.”

“And you weren’t silk, so he saved the flowers and got right down to business, is that it?”

Her eyelids flickered. It was the only sign of her pain, but Case saw it. As Ty had warned her, Case was the best hunter of all the MacKenzies. Nothing escaped his cool, dispassionate eyes.

“No, I wasn’t silk,” she agreed huskily.

“But you are now.”

She smiled sadly and said nothing.

One of Cousin Henry’s guests cut in. Janna tried to remember his name, but nothing came to her mind except the memory of the young man’s intense, hungry eyes watching the ruby brooch shift and shimmer with her breaths. She prayed for the waltz to end, freeing her.

“Are all western women so charmingly quiet?”

She opened her mouth to answer. Nothing came out except a soft, startled sound when the waltz ended in an abrupt jangle of notes. She looked over at the piano in time to see Silver lifted into Logan’s arms for a kiss that conceded nothing to silk or ritual politeness.

“They’re back!” Janna said.

She looked around frantically but saw only one tall, roughly dressed man mingling with the guests—Blue Wolf, not Ty. Then she felt a tingling all the way to her fingertips. She turned and saw Ty standing at the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed. Slowly he straightened and began walking toward her. As he closed in on her, there was no welcoming smile on his bearded face. There was only anger.

“Willie,” Ty said coldly, “your nanny is looking for you.”

For a moment the young aristocrat holding Janna thought of taking the insult personally; then he shrugged and handed Janna over to Ty.

“Apparently this dance belongs to the rude frontiersman?”

When Janna didn’t object, the man bowed and withdrew. Ty ignored him completely, having eyes only for the
bruja
who stood before him gowned in silk and shimmering with gems.

The waltz began again, played by four hands. Ty took Janna into his arms, holding her too close for propriety. He moved with the graceful, intricate, sweeping motions of an expert dancer. An equally expert partner could have followed him, but Janna was new to ball gowns and dips and whirls. Inevitably she stumbled. He took her weight, lifted her, spun her dizzyingly until she had to cling to his arms for support.