High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) (16 page)

The ride home was stony with silence. Nicki knew she had irked William by her resistance to his proposals but didn’t know how she could have handled the situation differently. He would just have to get over it.

As they crested the rise above the ranch buildings, he turned toward her.

“I have to be gone for a couple of days...about a week, really. I’ll come by and see you when I get back.”

“All right.”

He gave her a hard look. She could tell that he wished she would say something more, but she had no assurances to offer him.

The silence stretched out until he finally said, “I’ll leave you here, then. See you in a few days.”

“Have a nice trip.” Nicki smiled, genuinely hoping he would.

He nodded tersely and pulled his horse roughly around, spurring it in the direction of his spread.

Nicki urged her mount forward, heading down the hill toward home. She was pleasantly surprised to see the corral all but finished. Conner and Ron were lashing the last of the poles into place, but Jason was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Sawyer.
They must be in the house
.

Ron glanced up and smiled, coming to help her down from the saddle.

“The boy’s just fine. Jason took him inside a few minutes ago. He’s been going hard all morning and was about droopin’ when Jason took him inside to rest a mite. He sure did have fun. That Jason is right good with the lad.”

Nicki felt relieved. She headed for the house, removing her riding gloves as she went. She had imagined all sorts of horror stories on the way home, knowing how quick her young son could move. Quietly opening the soddy door, she eased her way inside so as not to disturb Sawyer if he was sleeping. She expected to find Jason chomping at the bit ready to get back to work.

Jason, pillow propped against the wall behind his head, was lying down on the bed with Sawyer sprawled across his chest. His black boots, crossed casually at the ankles, hung over the end of the bed. One of Sawyer’s little fists clutched the first finger of Jason’s big hand as though the child was afraid Jason might disappear while he slept. Both man and boy were sound asleep. She stepped closer and saw that Sawyer was sleeping so soundly he had left a large patch of drool on the front of Jason’s shirt. She grimaced, debating whether she should wake Jason but decided to let him sleep. His early morning ride had probably cost him some sleep the night before.

Instead, she hung Jason’s heavy vest, which he had laid across the table, beside his black Stetson on a peg by the door. That done, she put away Sawyer’s scattered wraps and sank into a chair at the table, only now realizing the toll the morning’s ride had taken on her.
What is wrong with me?

She was bone tired and her feet ached. Her riding boots were pinching her feet, which had been a little swollen lately.

Raising her skirt to her knees she bent over to loosen her boots.

“A man could get used to waking up to a sight like that, ma’am.”

Jerking upright, Nicki flung the hem of her skirt to the floor, her eyes widening in indignation. Drat that man! Why did he always have to fluster her so?

Jason rose from the bed in one fluid motion and laid Sawyer down, carefully extracting his finger from the little boy’s grasp and tucking the blanket around him to ward off any chill. “He did just fine, but I’m afraid I might have let him run himself into a frazzle. He’s plum tuckered out.”

Nicki looked away, trying to keep her eyes off of the distinct drool stain on the front of his muscle-taut, navy shirt.

He stretched, one hand going behind his head and the other gliding over his chest and coming into contact with the wet patch. The grimace on his face reminded her of the time that Papa had taken too big a swig of Dr. Dan’s Cure-All Elixir, which was composed mostly of vinegar and lemon juice.

Nicki looked away, covering her mouth to hide a smile, but his low snort brought her eyes back to his face. She tried not to grin but didn’t quite succeed.

His eyes darted from the stain on his shirt to his hand and back. “Ah, the dangers of sleeping with a toddler on your chest are now quite apparent. I don’t recall you warning me about that this morning when you went off on your little jaunt with Mr. Harpster.” His twinkling blue eyes belied the disgust in his tone as he took in her amused face and wiped his hand down his pants.

Nicki moved her hand away from her mouth. “Yes, I suppose I did forget to mention that hazard. But be glad it is only drool.” She arched an eyebrow for effect and watched the light dawn on his face.

He nodded. “Yes, I can see there are a great many things to be thankful for in this situation.” He glanced over at the innocently sleeping toddler and shuddered. “Things could be worse. Much worse. But still,” Jason rubbed his palm across the wet patch again, his frown deepening, “things could be better, too.”

Nicki couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped as she rose to hand him a towel. “Thank you for watching him. And,” she indicated the spot he was vigorously rubbing with the towel, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I had fun. Really. He wasn’t a big help in putting up the corral, but we had fun nonetheless.” He grinned at her with a wink that sent a tremor racing down her spine into her boots.

“Yes, I can just imagine. I was surprised to see Ron and Conner putting up the last pole when I rode in. I had pictures of the three of you in the house trying to determine which end of the boy to diaper.”

“Hey! We would have at least known that. Tilly told us.”

She smirked and sank back down at the table, her weary legs not wanting to hold her up for another minute. At that moment, she would have liked nothing more than to fall into bed with Sawyer. Instead she said, “I really appreciate you watching him. We had a nice ride.”

His head snapped up and he looked deep into her face, all traces of humor gone. “You did, did you?” There was more than a little inference in his tone, and Nicki felt herself blush to the roots of her hair.

“It’s not what you think. William has simply been a good friend to me since John’s passing.” She carefully omitted the fact that William had been pressuring her to marry him.

“So…you and William? There’s nothing between you?”

“Not that it is any of your business,
Señor
, but no. We are just friends. He has helped me a lot since John’s death.”

He studied her for a long moment, holding her gaze as he moved across the room and dropped the towel on the table next to her. She started to look away, but he reached out with one finger and touched her chin, his eyes still searching her face. Her heart pounded uncontrollably at the undisguised fire in his eyes. She couldn’t help but meet him, gaze for gaze. She felt the need to say something witty to expel the sudden connection between them, but with him looking at her that way, she couldn’t breathe, much less put two coherent thoughts together.

A smile twitched the corner of his mouth before he dropped his hand and said, “Good.”

He spoke the one word with such finality that Nicki wondered what he meant by it. Good that William had been a friend to her, or good that they were only friends?

His next words explained. “I don’t like the man.”

She tightened her fists, suddenly annoyed. Why would anyone dislike William? “You don’t even know him.”

“I know his type. He wants something from you. I’d watch myself around him if I were you.”

Her anger flared. William had gone out of his way to help her since John’s death. He’d done nothing to make her question him or his reasons for helping her. He had even warned her that there could be trouble over her land.

What about your questions over John’s death
? She shoved the thought aside. Those had merely been passing doubts that had evolved out of the stress of John’s injuries. William wouldn’t do anything to harm anyone. He and John had been friends, for goodness’ sake.

And she certainly didn’t need this know-it-all telling her who to trust. Why, if he had his way, she supposed he would have her fall into his arms and beg him to take care of her for the rest of her days.

Would that be such a bad thing?
She tossed her head, refusing to acknowledge the answer to that thought, and took out the brunt of her frustration on him. “I don’t need you telling me how to handle myself or my relationships!”

He arched a golden eyebrow in her direction. “I wasn’t trying to tell you how to handle anything. Just that I would watch William Harpster closely where my stock and money were concerned if he were buddying up to me.”

“Well, he’s not buddying up to you, is he?” She folded her arms.

“No. Of course not. I don’t own five thousand acres, and I’m not beautiful.”

Her eyes were riveted to his.

His face serious, he reached toward her.

She held her breath, steeling herself against the desire to lean closer.

His fingers were almost touching her cheek when he must have thought better of the action and dropped his hand back to his hip. “All I’m asking is that you watch him closely. If he does anything that makes you uneasy, be doubly careful. All right?”

She sighed in resignation, wondering at the disappointment that coursed through her when he decided against touching her again. “Fine. I’ll watch him.”
Whatever that means
. “Are you happy now,
Señor?”

“Sí.”

She blinked, his Spanish answer taking her off guard.

He continued, putting her off balance yet again, “You look tired. Ron said you haven’t been feeling well since the funeral. Are you all right?” He squatted before her and gently took one of her feet in his hands, unlaced her boot, and eased it off. Then did the same with the other.

All anger at his outspoken brazenness fled. Nicki nodded. She couldn’t find her voice.

Looking up into her face he asked, “You’re sure?” She nodded again.

“Why don’t you lay down with Sawyer? I’m going to ride out and scout your land. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

Nicki’s heart constricted, and she wondered that the same words from two different men could have such contrasting effects on her heart. When William had spoken those words to her, she’d felt something akin to relief.

But now, with Jason, she felt only...what? It certainly wasn’t relief. She couldn’t quite unscramble her tangled emotions and wasn’t sure if she wanted to. But a thought occurred and she started to rise. “You’ll need food.”

“That’s all taken care of.” He took her by the arm and led her over to the bed. “I had Tilly pack me some grub before she left.”

Nicki sat on the edge of the bed as he moved to put on his heavy vest, pulling his black Stetson from the peg beside it.

Opening the door, he turned to look at her one more time. “You take care. I’ll be back in a couple of days, hopefully with some good news.” She nodded. “I’ll pray for you.”

He pulled on the brim of his hat as he dipped his chin. “Thanks.” With that, he eased out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Nicki lay back, wondering where the empty feeling had come from.

Tom Roland, the banker, tapped the ash from his cigar into the crystal ashtray as he eyed his wife across the elaborately decorated room. He had come back to his Portland residence for a while and had decided to send for William to meet him here. It wouldn’t do for Prineville’s residents to see them together too often.

His gaze narrowed as Vanessa provocatively sipped her drink. She knew the eyes of every man in the room were on her. Her dress, low-cut as usual, showed off her voluptuous figure to the fullest, and she used this fact to her advantage as she floated from one cluster of chatting socialites to the next.

Tom sighed as he watched her giggle flirtatiously with the town mayor. She leaned over provocatively to whisper something for the mayor’s ears alone and then stood, sipping her sherry as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

And nothing was. This was how Vanessa always behaved.

Someone cleared their throat. Tom turned to see William dressed in the height of fashion. His black suit coat hung casually open to reveal a matching black vest. Across the expanse of his broad chest dangled the intricately woven gold chain of an expensive pocket watch. The lights from overhead caught the chain, glittering off it like the sun’s reflection on still water. At his throat, the high collar of his pristine, white shirt just turned down at the points accentuated the coal black of a very thin bow tie. His perfectly tailored slacks ended in highly polished, black snakeskin boots that added at least two inches to his height. The man cut a striking picture.

Tom cast one more glance in his wife’s direction before he spoke around the cigar in his mouth. “Glad to see you made it. You got my message?”

William scanned the room as though their conversation were not important. “Yes. I need to get back, though. Let’s make this as brief as possible.”

Tom nodded. “My office. Eleven o’clock tonight.”

William didn’t reply, but Tom knew he would be on time. Whether or not William would like what he had to say was yet to be determined. He watched as William straightened his coat and made his way over to a beautiful young woman who was batting her cobalt eyes boldly in his direction. Bowing over her hand, he smiled up at her and said something, gesturing to the dance floor. The young debutante fanned herself coquettishly, allowing him to lead her onto the floor with an exhibition of reluctant embarrassment. Tom’s eyes scanned the girl from head to toe, and a small smile played across his mouth.