The Manning Sisters (10 page)

He effortlessly brought her into his lap. Her hands were on his shoulders. “I thought we agreed this sort of thing had to stop,” she whispered.

His mouth found the open V of her shirt, and he kissed her there, gliding his tongue over her warm skin, creating sensations that were even warmer.

“We weren't going to see each other anymore, remember?” she tried again. Her nails dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders as she exhaled slowly.

“I've been thinking about that,” Russ said between nibbling kisses that slid along the line of her jaw. “I haven't thought of anything else all week.”

“Russ, please stop,” she whimpered.

To her surprise, he did as she asked. Her hands were in his hair, and she reluctantly withdrew them. “You shouldn't be driving.”

“I know. I left the truck at Billy's and walked over here. Only I didn't realize where I was headed until I arrived on your doorstep.”

Billy's was one of the town's three taverns—the most popular, according to what Taylor had heard. During the summer months, they brought in a band every third Friday, and apparently every adult in town showed up.

“You shouldn't have come,” she whispered. Then why was she so glad he had? Taylor didn't want to analyze the answer to that, afraid of what she'd discover.

“You're positively right,” Russ concurred. “I have no business being here. Go ahead and kick me out. I wouldn't blame you if you did. Fact is, you probably should.”

“If you promise to behave yourself, I'll put on a pot of coffee.” She squirmed off his lap and moved into the kitchen. She'd just poured cold water into the automatic drip machine when Russ stole up behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

“Russ…you promised.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Then…you should leave.”

He dropped his arms, walked over to the chair, turned it around and straddled it. He was grinning, obviously pleased. “Cody told me,” he announced.

Taylor busied herself bringing down two mugs from the cupboard and setting them on the counter. Apparently there were no secrets in this town. Taylor regretted not accepting Cody Franklin's dinner invitation. She certainly wished she had now.

“You turned him down. Why?” His dark eyes held hers with unwavering curiosity, demanding a reply.

“I…don't think that's any of your business.”

He shrugged, his look indifferent. “I'd like to think it
is
my business.”

“You don't own me.” She pressed her hands into the counter behind her.

He grinned. “Not for lack of trying.” He held out his arms to her, beseeching her to walk over. “We've got a good thing going, and I can't understand why you want to throw it away.” His eyes continued to hold hers, but he was no longer smiling. “The first time I met you, I recognized trouble. That didn't stop me, and it didn't stop you, either, did it?”

She lowered her gaze rather than answer. When she raised her head, she discovered Russ standing directly in front of her.

“Did it?” he repeated. He grabbed her around the waist, and with one swift movement set her on top of the counter.

She stared at him, wondering about his mood. “Russ?”

He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her long and hard, and when he'd finished, she was panting. “Did it?” he asked a third time.

He reached for her shoulders again, intent on another kiss—and more.

“Russ, you're drunk.” From somewhere she found the strength to stop him, although it felt like the most difficult task of her life.

Ever so slowly he tilted back his head. His grin was sultry and teasing. “I'm not that drunk.”

“You shouldn't have come here.”

“Yes, I know.” His hands were in her hair. He couldn't seem to leave it alone. Every time they were together, he ran his fingers through it. Carefully he removed the combs, then arranged it over her shoulder, smoothing it with his callused fingertips. Then his hands framed her face and he kissed her once more.

Unable to resist him, she parted her lips in welcome, and they clung to each other.

When he finally dragged his mouth from hers, he smiled at her. “Go ahead and give me that coffee, and then you can drive me home.”

Without question, Taylor did as he asked. They drank their coffee in silence, and its sobering effect hit her immediately. After all her intentions to stay away from him, she'd been giddy with happiness when he'd arrived. It hadn't mattered that he'd been drinking. It hadn't mattered that he took liberties with her. All that mattered was seeing him again. Taylor had never thought of herself as a weak person, but that was how Russ made her feel. Spineless and indecisive.

Russ fell asleep on the drive out to the ranch. Taylor was glad to see that the back porch light was on when she pulled in to the yard. She parked the car and hurried around to the passenger side.

“Russ,” she said, shaking him by the shoulders. “Wake up.”

His eyes opened slowly, and when he recognized her, he grinned, his gaze warm and loving. “Taylor.”

“You're home.”

His arms circled her waist. “Yes, I know.”

Taylor managed to break free. “Come on, let's go inside, and for heaven's sake, could you be a little less noisy? I don't want anyone to know I brought you here.”

“Why not?” He inclined his head as if the answer demanded serious concentration.

“There's enough talk about us as it is. The last thing I need is for someone to report seeing my car parked at your house late on a Friday night.”

“Don't worry. No one can see the house from the road.”

“Just get inside, would you?” She was losing her patience with him. Despite the coffee, his actions were slower than before. He moved with the deliberateness of inebriation, taking unhurried wobbly steps toward the house.

The back door was unlocked, and Russ slammed it shut with his foot. The sound ricocheted through the kitchen like a blast from a shotgun, startling Taylor.

“Shh,” Russ said loudly, pressing his finger over his lips. “You'll wake Mandy.”

Taylor wished the teenager
would
wake up and come to help her. Russ was increasingly difficult to handle.

“You need to go to bed,” she said and prepared to leave.

“I'll never make it there without you.” His smile was roguish and naughty, and he staggered a few steps as though that was proof enough. “I need you, Taylor. No telling what might happen to me if I'm left to my own devices.”

“I'm willing to chance that.”

“I'm not.” With his arm around her waist, he led her toward the stairs. He stumbled forward, bringing Taylor with him. She had no choice but to follow. She didn't know if it was an act or not, but he really did seem to need her assistance.

They were two steps up the stairs when Russ sagged against the wall and sighed heavily. “Have I ever told you I think you're beautiful?”

“I believe the word was wonderful,” she muttered, using her shoulder to urge him forward.

“You're both. A man could drown in eyes that blue and not even care.”

“Russ,” she said in a whisper, “let's get you upstairs.”

“In bed?” He arched his brows suggestively.

“Just get upstairs. Please.”

“You're so eager for my body, you can hardly wait, can you?” he asked, then chuckled softly, seeming to find himself exceptionally amusing. He leaned forward enough to kiss the side of her neck. “I'll try to make it worth your while.”

Taylor was breathless by the time they reached the top of the stairs. “Which room is yours?” she asked.

Russ turned all the way around before raising his arm and directing her to the bedroom at the end of the hall. “There,” he said enthusiastically, pointing straight ahead as if he'd discovered uncharted land.

With her arm firmly around his middle, Taylor led him to the room. The hall was dark, lit only by the light of the moon visible through an uncurtained window. She opened the door, and together the two of them staggered forward, landing on the bed with a force that drove the oxygen from her lungs.

Russ released a deep sigh and rolled onto his back, positioning Taylor above him. His unrelenting dark eyes stared up at her.

“I…should be going.”

“Not yet,” he whispered. “Kiss me good-night first.”

“Russ, no.” She tried to move, but his hands were on her hips, holding her fast.

“All I'm asking for is one little kiss. So when I wake up in the morning I'll remember you were here and that'll make me feel good.”

She rolled her eyes. “The only thing you're going to feel in the morning is a world-class headache.”

“If you won't kiss me, then you leave me with no option but to kiss you.”

He began to kiss her lips, tiny nibbling kisses that promised so much more than they delivered. Then he changed tactics, drugging her with prolonged kisses that chased away all grounds for complaint.

For some reason he stopped. Suddenly. He threw back his head and dragged in several deep breaths.

“Does this prove anything?” he asked urgently.

“That…that I should have left you to your own devices. You didn't need my help.”

“I did. I do. I always will.”

She shook her head, but Russ ignored that.

“In case you haven't figured it out yet,” he informed her, “you belong in my bed, and that's exactly where you're going to end up.”

With what remained of her shredded dignity, Taylor pushed herself free. She bolted off the bed and paced the room. As she did, Russ sat up on the bed, leaning against the bunched pillows, looking smug and arrogant. “You're so beautiful.”

It was all Taylor could do not to throw her hands in the air and scream. “This doesn't change a thing,” she insisted. “Not a thing.”

His answering grin was filled with cocky reassurance. “Wanna bet?”

“H
i, Taylor,” Mandy said as she stepped into Taylor's classroom early the following week.

“Howdy.”

Mandy grinned. “You're beginning to sound like a country girl.”

That gave Taylor cause to sit back and take notice. “I am?”

Mandy nodded. “Russ told me just the other day that he's going to make a country girl out of you yet.” Mandy walked over to the front row of desks and sat on the edge of one as she spoke.

At the mention of Russ, Taylor began to fiddle with the pencils on her desk.

“Do…you remember the day I was thinking about running away?” Mandy asked, and her voice lowered.

“Of course,” Taylor said.

“I asked you what your father thought about the boys you dated, and you told me he'd generally approved of your boyfriends.” She pressed her books close to her chest, and Taylor noted how tense her hands were. “There was…a reason I asked about that. You see, there's this boy in school—he's a junior and his name is Eddie and…well, he's really nice and my family knows his family and we've known each other almost all our lives and—”

“You like Eddie?”

Mandy's responding nod was fervent. “A whole lot, and I think he likes me, too. We've only talked in the hall a couple of times, but this morning when I was putting my books in my locker, he walked up and we started talking…not about anything in particular, at least not at first, then all of a sudden he asked if I wanted to go to the movies with him Saturday night.”

“I see.” Taylor did understand her dilemma. All too well. Mandy was only fourteen, and Russ would surely consider a high school freshman too young to date. In fact, Taylor agreed with him, but she'd been fourteen once herself and attracted to a boy who'd liked her. He'd been older, too, and had asked her to a party, which her father had adamantly opposed her attending. The memory of the argument that had followed remained painfully vivid in her mind.

“I really, really want to go to the movies with Eddie, but I'm afraid Russ will get upset with me for even asking. I mean, he's been trying hard to listen to my point of view, but dating is something that's never come up before and…well, I have a feeling we aren't going to be able to talk about me having a boyfriend without…an argument.” She sighed heavily. “What should I do, Taylor?”

Taylor wished she had an easy answer. “I really don't know.”

“Will you talk to him for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, please! You don't know how much this would mean to me. Don't you remember what it's like to be fourteen and have a boy like you?”

That was the problem; Taylor
did
remember. “When I was your age, a sixteen-year-old boy invited me to a party. My father made it sound as if he wanted to drag me into an opium den. More than anything in the world, I wanted to go to that party.”

“Did you?”

Taylor shook her head sadly. “I was too young to date.”

Mandy's shoulders sagged with defeat. “It's only a movie, and I don't understand why it would be so bad if Eddie and I went to a show together.”

Crossing her arms, Taylor started to pace her classroom, her thoughts spinning. “What about a compromise?”

“H-how do you mean?”

“What if Russ were to drop you off at the theater, you paid your own way and then you sat next to Eddie? With Russ's approval, of course.”

Mandy looked more perplexed than relieved. “Eddie could buy me popcorn, though, couldn't he?”

“Sure. It wouldn't be like a real date, but you'd still be at the movies with Eddie.”

Mandy's hold on her schoolbooks relaxed. “Do you think Russ would go for it?”

“He's a reasonable man.” Taylor couldn't believe she was actually saying this, but in some instances it was true, and he was trying hard with his sister. “I'm sure he'd at least take it into consideration.”

Mandy nodded, but her lips were still pinched. “Will you talk to him about it?”

“Me?” Taylor returned spiritedly. “You've got to be joking!”

“I'm not. Russ listens to you. You may not think so but I know he does. It's because of you that I'm allowed to wear makeup and buy my own clothes. Russ and I are trying hard to get along, but I'm afraid this thing with Eddie will ruin everything. Oh, Taylor, please. I'll do anything you want. Cook your meals, do your laundry…all year, anything.
Please
.”

“Russ will listen to you.”

“Maybe,” Mandy agreed reluctantly, “but this is too important to mess up. I told Eddie I'd have to talk it over with my brother, and he said I should let him know tomorrow. I'm afraid if I put him off he'll ask some other girl, and I'd die if he did.”

Against her better judgment, Taylor felt herself weakening. She hadn't seen Russ since Friday night when she'd dropped him off at the house, taken him up the stairs and put him to bed. That whole episode was best forgotten as far as Taylor was concerned.

“Please,” Mandy coaxed once more.

“All right,” Taylor muttered. When she was growing up, she'd been able to go to her mother, who'd smooth things over with her father. Mandy didn't have anyone to run interference for her. Taylor didn't really mind—although she worried that Russ would use this opportunity to press her with a few arguments of his own, ones that had nothing to do with his sister.

 

Russ had been having a bad day from the time he'd woken up that morning. The minute he'd stepped out of the house he'd encountered one problem after another, the latest being a calf standing two feet deep in mud. After an hour of fruitless effort, Russ had lost his patience and accepted the fact that he was going to need help. He'd contacted a couple of his hands by walkie-talkie and was waiting for them to arrive.

Every calf was valuable, but this one, trapped and growing weaker, had been marked for his breeding herd. Like most of the ranchers in Cougar Point, Russ kept two herds. One for breeding purposes, which he used to produce bulls that he often sold for a handsome profit. Bull calves that didn't meet his expectations were turned into steers and raised for beef. His second herd was strictly grade cattle, sold off at the end of the season.

This particular calf had been the product of his highest quality bull and his best cow. Russ had great expectations for him and sure didn't want to lose him to a mud hole.

Russ checked the sun and wondered how much longer he'd have to wait. He'd sent his two best hands out to mend fences, a tedious but not thankless task.

There was still a lot of work left to complete before winter set in, and he didn't have time to waste. Miles of fence to inspect and mend, which was no small chore. If the fences weren't secure, Russ would soon be dealing with the elk that come down from the mountains in winter. If elk could get through his fence, they'd eat his oats and hay. No rancher could afford to feed elk, and a good fence was the best protection he had.

If Russ had to choose his favorite time of year, it would be autumn. The sun was still warm, but the air was crisp, and morning frost warned of encroaching winter. When he drove his cattle into the feed ground, it was like a homecoming, a culmination of the year's efforts.

The calf mewled, reminding Russ of his predicament.

“I know, fellow,” Russ muttered. “I've tried everything I can think of. I'm afraid you're stuck here until one of the other men swings by and lends me a hand.”

No sooner had the words escaped his mouth than he saw a truck heading slowly in his direction. He frowned, wondering who'd be coming out this way, knowing all his men were on horseback. Maybe there'd been trouble at the house.

After the day he'd been having, Russ didn't look forward to dealing with any more problems. As the blue ranch truck approached, Russ realized it was Taylor at the wheel.

He walked out of the mud and stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for her. He hadn't seen her since the night she'd driven him home. The truth was, he didn't feel proud of the way he'd finagled her into his bedroom. Yes, he'd had too much to drink, but he hadn't been nearly as drunk as he'd led her to believe.

“Hello,” Taylor said as she climbed awkwardly out of the cab. She was dressed in jeans, but they were several inches too short and a tad too small. The sweater looked suspiciously like one of Mandy's.

Russ pulled off his gloves. “What brings you out here?” He didn't mean to sound unfriendly, but he was frustrated, tired and hungry. Despite that, he was damn glad to see her.

She didn't answer him right away, but instead focused her attention on the calf, which mewled pitifully. “Mandy suggested I drive out so I could talk to you,” she muttered, then pointed at the mud hole. “That calf's stuck.”

“No kidding.”

“There's no need to be sarcastic with me,” she announced primly. As she stood there, he couldn't help noticing just how tight those jeans were.

“Aren't you going to do something?” she demanded.

Undressing her occurred to him…. Russ brought his musings to an abrupt halt. “Do something about what?” he asked.

“That cow. She needs help.”

“She's a he, and I'm well aware of the fact.”

“Then
help him
,” Taylor ordered, gesturing toward the calf as though she suspected Russ was simply ignoring the problem.

“I've spent the past hour helping him.”

“Well, you certainly didn't do a very good job of it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you think you can do any better?”

She looked startled for a moment, then said, “I bet I could.”

“Here we go again.” He took off his hat long enough to slap it against his thigh and remove the dust. “Because you're a woman, an independent, competent woman, you're convinced you can handle this problem, while I, a chauvinist and a drunk, am incapable of even assessing the situation.”

“I…I didn't exactly say that.”

“But it's what you implied.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “I'll admit I can't see why you aren't helping that poor animal.”

“I guess I just needed you. Go to it, lady.”

“All right, I will.” Cautiously she approached the edge of the mud hole. She planted her boots just outside the dark slime and leaned forward slightly. In a low voice she started carrying on a soothing, one-sided conversation with the calf as if she could reason him out of his plight.

“You're going to have to do a lot more than talk to him,” Russ couldn't resist telling her. He walked over to the truck, crossed his arms and leaned against the side. Already he could feel his sour mood lifting. Just watching Taylor deal with this would be more entertainment than he'd enjoyed in a long while.

“I'm taking a few minutes to reassure him,” Taylor returned from between clenched teeth. “The poor thing's frightened half out of his wits.”

“Sweet-talkin' him is bound to help.”

“I'm sure it will,” she said, giving him a surly look.

“Works wonders with me, too,” Russ had to tell her, although he couldn't keep the humor out of his voice. “However, it's my belief that actions speak louder than words. When you're finished with the calf, would you care to demonstrate your concern for me?”

“No.”

Russ chuckled softly. “That's what I thought.”

Taylor cast him a furious glance before walking around the edges of the mud-caked hole. The calf continued to mewl, not that Russ could blame him. The fellow had gotten himself into one heck of a quandary.

“It appears he's completely trapped,” Taylor announced in formal tones.

It had taken Russ all of three seconds to come to that conclusion.

“Can't you put a rope around his neck and pull him out?” She motioned toward Russ's gelding. “You could loop one end around the calf and the other around the saddle horn and have Magic walk backward. I saw it done that way in a TV rerun. Trigger, I think it was Trigger, saved Roy Rogers from certain death in quicksand doing exactly that.”

“It won't work.”

Taylor gave an indignant shrug of her shoulders. “Why won't it? If it worked for Roy Rogers, it should work for this poor little guy.”

“With a rope around his neck, he'd probably strangle before we budged him more than a few inches.”

“Oh.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “I hadn't thought of that.”

Russ hated to admit how much he was enjoying this. She'd outsmarted him once before with that flat tire business, but Taylor was on his turf now, and Russ was in control. “I don't suppose you'd care to make a wager on this?”

“No more bets.”

“What's the matter? Are you afraid you'll lose?”