The Manning Sisters (7 page)

“I want it understood that I'm not going anywhere near that parking lot with you, Russ Palmer.”

“Whatever you say.” But a smile tugged insolently at his mouth.

The music started again, and they stood facing each other in the middle of the dance floor with couples crowding in around them. Russ didn't take her in his arms, nor did she make a move toward him.

Amusement flickered in his eyes. There was no resisting him, and soon Taylor responded to his smile. He slipped his hands around her waist, drawing her back into the circle of his arms. They made a pretense of dancing but were doing little more than staring at each other and shuffling their feet.

No woman in her right mind would deliberately get involved with an avowed chauvinist like Russ Palmer, yet here she was, a thoroughly modern woman, so attracted to him that she ached to the soles of her feet.

The music came to an end, and his arms relaxed. A careless, handsome grin slashed his mouth. “Enjoy yourself,” he whispered. “Dance with whomever you like, but remember this. I'm the one who's taking you home tonight. No one else. Me.”

An immediate protest rose in Taylor's throat, but before she could utter a single word, Russ bent forward and set his mouth over hers. She clenched her fists against his gray suit jacket while his lips caressed hers. Taylor could hear the curious voices murmuring around them, and she gave a small cry.

Russ ended the kiss, smiled down on her and whispered, “Remember.”

Then he walked off the floor.

Taylor felt like a first-class fool, standing there by herself with half a dozen couples staring at her. When the hushed whispers began, she smiled blandly and all but ran from the dance floor.

Taylor was so mortified that she headed directly for the ladies' room and stayed there a full five minutes, trying to compose herself. If there'd been a sofa, she would have sat down and wept. Wept because she'd been so tempted to let Russ take her outside. Wept because she felt so right in his arms. Wept because she hadn't learned a thing from her disastrous affair with Mark Brooks.

Once she reappeared at the dance, she didn't lack for attention. She waltzed with Cody Franklin, chatted over punch with Les Benjamin, another rancher, and even managed a second two-step with Harry Donovan. She smiled. She laughed. She pretended to be having the time of her life, but underneath everything was a brewing frustration she couldn't escape. Every now and then she'd catch a glimpse of Russ dancing with someone else. Usually someone young and pretty. Someone far more suited to him than she'd ever be. Yet, each time, she felt a stab of jealousy unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

By the time the evening started to wind down, Taylor decided the best way to thwart Russ was to accept someone else's offer to drive her home.

Only no one asked.

Of the dozen or so men she danced with, not a single, solitary one suggested taking her home. Charles and Mary Beth Morgan had already left by the time Taylor realized she had no option except to find Russ.

He was waiting for her outside, standing at the bottom of the Grange steps, looking as arrogant and pleased as could be.

“I want to know what you said to everyone,” she demanded, marching down the steps. It was more than a little suspicious that she'd been virtually abandoned without a ride.

Russ's eyes fairly shone with devilment. “Me? What makes you think I said anything?”

“Because I know you, and I want one thing clear right now. You can take me home, but nothing else. Understand?”

“You insult me, madam!”

“Good. Now where's Mandy?” Taylor asked.

“She's spending the night with Chris,” Russ explained. “However, rest assured, you're perfectly safe with me.”

“I'd be safer in a pit of rattlesnakes,” she said wryly. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it was when you kissed me on that dance floor and then took off?” Her voice was a low hiss.

“I promise I'll never do it again,” he vowed, and led her across the parking lot where he held open the truck door.

This was a newer model than the one she'd ridden in earlier. She paused and glanced inside and was relieved to see it had seat belts. However, the truck stood probably three feet off the ground, and there wasn't any way she'd be able to climb inside without assistance.

“Here,” Russ said, “I'll help you up.” His hands closed around her waist and he lifted her effortlessly off the ground.

Once she was inside and Russ had joined her, she asked him, “Where do you drive this thing? Through the Rockies?”

Russ chuckled and started the engine. “You'd be surprised the places this truck has been.”

“I'll bet,” Taylor grumbled.

She didn't say a word during the short drive to her rented house. Russ didn't, either.

He pulled in to her driveway, cut the engine and was out of the cab before she could object. Opening her door, Russ helped her down. But when her feet were firmly planted on the ground, he didn't release her.

His eyes held hers in the dim light from a nearby streetlamp, and a current of awareness flowed between them. “You were the most beautiful woman there tonight.”

“I'm surprised you even noticed.” The minute the words escaped, Taylor regretted having spoken. In one short sentence she'd revealed what she'd been doing all evening.

Watching him.

She'd counted the number of women he'd danced with and, worse, envied them the time they'd spent in his arms.

Russ didn't answer her. Not with words, anyway. Instead he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His mouth was hard, his kiss thorough. When he lifted his head, their panting breaths echoed each other.

“Invite me inside,” he whispered, his voice husky.

Taylor felt powerless to do anything other than what he asked. Her hands were shaking as she drew the keys from her purse. Russ took them from her and unlocked the door, pushing it open for her to precede him.

She walked through the living room and to the kitchen, turning on the lights. “I'll…make some coffee.”

“No,” Russ said, stopping her. His arms anchored her against the wall. “I don't want any coffee and neither do you.”

Taylor gazed into his face and recognized his hunger, aware that it was a reflection of her own. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall, feeling needy and weak.

“Trust me,” Russ whispered. “I know what you're thinking. We're both crazy. I should stay as far away from you as possible. You don't want to feel these things for me any more than I want to feel them for you. We argue. We fight. But, lady, when we kiss, everything else pales by comparison.”

“What we're experiencing is just physical attraction,” she whispered as her fingers sank into his thick, dark hair.

“Physical attraction,” he repeated, seconds before his mouth came crashing down on hers. Low, animal sounds came from deep within his throat as his mouth twisted and turned over hers.

Braced against the wall, she could feel every hard, rugged inch of him.

Restlessly she moved against him as her hands clenched fistfuls of his hair.

“Russ,” she panted, lifting her head. “I…I think we should stop now.”

“In a minute.” Grasping her by the waist, he dragged her against him and groaned.

Taylor did, too.

He was so hard. She was so soft.

Man to woman.

Cowboy to Lady.

They fit together so perfectly.

Drawing in deep, shuddering breaths, Russ buried his face in the curve of her neck. It took him several seconds to regain control of himself.

It took Taylor even longer.

He raised his head and smoothed the hair from her face. “I've changed my mind,” he murmured. “I will take that coffee, after all.”

Grateful for something to occupy herself, Taylor moved to the counter where she kept her coffeemaker. While waiting for the aromatic coffee to drip through, she got two mugs and placed them on a tray. She was so absorbed in her task that when she turned around she nearly collided with Russ.

He took the tray from her hands and carried it into the living room. “I think it's time we cleared the air,” he said, setting their mugs on the oak coffee table.

“In what way?” Taylor asked, perching on the edge of the sofa cushion.

“Above all else, we've got to be honest with each other.”

“Right.”

Taylor sipped from her mug, the scalding coffee too hot to savor or appreciate.

“Are you wearing a bra?” he asked unexpectedly.

“What?” She jerked forward, setting her cup back on the tray to avoid spilling hot coffee down her front. It sloshed over the edges of the mug.

Taylor's mouth gaped as she glared at him. “Is
that
the kind of honesty you're interested in?” Unable to sit still, she got up and started pacing, so furious she was tempted to throw him out of her home.

“I'm sorry. Forget I asked. I was holding you and it felt as if you weren't and the question just…slipped out. You're right—that was a stupid question.”

He lowered his eyes, and Taylor noted that his ears were red. As red as Harry Donovan's had been when he'd asked her to dance. Russ Palmer embarrassed? The very thought was inconceivable.

Stepping around the low table, Taylor sat back down and reached for her coffee. “As a matter of fact, no.”

Russ closed his eyes as though in pain. “You shouldn't have told me.” He took a gulp of coffee, then stood abruptly. “Maybe it'd be best if I left now.”

“I thought you wanted to talk. I refuse to answer personal questions like the last one, but I think you're right about us being honest with each other.”

Now it was Russ's turn to do the pacing. He stood and stalked across her living room carpet and then back again as if he intended to wear a pattern in it.

“Russ?”

He rammed his fingers through his hair and turned to face her. “If you want honesty, I'll give it to you, Taylor, but I'll guarantee you aren't going to like what I have to say.”

She wasn't sure she was up to this. But, on the other hand, she didn't want him to leave, either. “Just say it.”

“All right,” he said sharply. “Right now, I want you so damn much I can't even think straight.” He raked one hand down his face. “Does that shock you?”

“No,” she cried softly.

“Well, it should.”

Holding the mug so tightly that it burned her palms, Taylor gathered her courage. “Earlier I objected when you called me your lady. The lady part wasn't what offended me. It might be an old-fashioned term, but I
am
a lady. And I'll always be a lady.”

Russ frowned. “I know that, Taylor. No one can look at you and not realize the kind of woman you are.”

“I have no intention of falling into bed with you, Russ. I wish I understood why we're so attracted to each other, but I don't. I do know we're playing with fire. Unfortunately, if we continue like this, one of us is going to get burned.”

Russ closed his eyes and nodded. “You're right, of course.” He inhaled deeply. “Does this mean you want me to leave?”

“No,” she said, smiling at her own lack of willpower. “But I think you should, anyway.”

“M
andy, I'm not going near that horse.”

“Taylor, please. I want to do something to thank you for all the sewing lessons you've given me.”

As far as Taylor was concerned, the chestnut gelding looked as huge as the Trojan horse. He didn't seem all that friendly, either. Her palms were sweating, and her throat felt dry from arguing with the persistent teen.

“Shadow is as gentle as they come,” Mandy assured her, stroking the white markings on the horse's face. “You don't have a thing to worry about.”

“That's what they said to Custer, too,” Taylor muttered under her breath. This whole episode had started out so innocuously. Taylor had spent an hour after school helping Mandy cut out the pattern for a vest. Then, because Russ was busy with an errand in Miles City, Taylor had dropped her off at the ranch. One of the men had been exercising a horse, and Taylor had innocently inquired about the stock. Before she knew how it had happened, Mandy was insisting on teaching her to ride, claiming she couldn't accept sewing lessons from Taylor without giving her something in return.

“Once you climb into the saddle, you'll feel a whole lot better about it,” Mandy told her.

“I'm not much of a horse person,” Taylor said.

“That doesn't matter. Shadow's gentle. I promise you.”

“Another time perhaps,” Taylor murmured.

“But today's perfect for riding.”

Before Taylor could answer, she saw Russ's truck speeding down the driveway, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. Taylor hadn't seen Russ since the night of the Grange dance, and she hated the way her pulse immediately started to race.

Russ pulled to a stop and leaped out of the truck, but he paused when he saw Taylor's Cabriolet parked near the barn. Setting his hat farther back on his head, he changed his direction and walked toward them.

“Hello, Taylor,” he said, bowing his head slightly.

“Russ.”

“Maybe you can talk some sense into her.” Mandy gestured toward Taylor, looking wistful. “I think she should learn to ride. Here she is giving me all these sewing lessons, and I want to repay her.”

“You've already had me over for dinner,” Taylor reminded the girl. “Really, horses just aren't my thing. The last time I sat on a horse was on a carousel when I was ten years old.”

“If Taylor's afraid…”

“What makes you say that?” Taylor demanded. “I'm not
afraid
of horses. It's just that I'm unfamiliar with them. I don't think now is the time for me to do more than gain a nodding acquaintance with Shadow here, but I most certainly am not afraid.”

“Then prove it,” Russ challenged. He patted Shadow on the rump. The gelding returned the greeting with a nicker and a swish of his thick tail.

“I promise you'll enjoy it,” Mandy said.

Grumbling under her breath, Taylor took the reins from Mandy's hands. “Why do I have the sinking suspicion I'm going to regret this?”

“You won't,” Mandy vowed.

“This kid is much too free with her promises,” Taylor told Russ. Lifting her left foot and placing it in the stirrup, Taylor reached for the saddle horn and heaved herself up.

“You might need some help,” Mandy said. “Russ, help her.”

“She seems to be doing fine without me.”

Taylor had hoisted her weight halfway up when she started to lose her grip. Russ was behind her in an instant, supporting her waist. “All right, Annie Oakley, I'll give you a hand.”

Swinging her leg over the back of the horse, Taylor held on to the saddle horn as if it were a life preserver and she was lost at sea.

“See?” Mandy cried triumphantly. “There isn't anything to it. Didn't I tell you?”

Russ adjusted the stirrups for her. “You look a little green around the gills. Are you okay?”

“It's…a little higher up here than I imagined. Can I get down now?”

Mandy giggled. “But you haven't gone anyplace yet.”

“Isn't
this
enough to prove I'm not afraid? You didn't say anything about actually moving.”

“Josh, bring me Magic,” Russ instructed the hand who'd saddled Shadow earlier. A large black gelding was led from the barn, and with Josh's assistance Russ saddled and bridled the horse.

“You go ahead and take Taylor out and I'll start dinner,” Mandy suggested. “By the time you two get back, everything will be ready.”

“Uh…I'm not so sure this is the best time for me to ride,” Taylor said, struggling to hide the panic in her voice. “I've got papers that need to be corrected and a couple of loads of wash…and other things.”

“It's Friday,” Mandy announced over her shoulder as she strolled toward the house. “You can do all that tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Taylor muttered. “I should've thought of that.”

“Don't look so terrified. This is going to be a good experience for you,” Russ told her, his expression far more smug than she liked.

He mounted the black gelding, gave instructions to the hands to unload the pickup, then turned to Taylor. “We'll take it nice and easy. You haven't got a thing to worry about.”

“If that's the case, why do I feel like I'm about a mile off the ground?”

Russ's returning chuckle warmed her heart. She'd missed him this week—although she'd had to search her soul to even admit that. With Mandy stopping in after school, three days out of five, Taylor had been kept well-informed about Russ's activities. He'd done the ordering on Tuesday and was grumpy most of the night, and Mandy didn't have a clue why. Thursday he was out on the range, looking for strays, and Friday he'd traveled into Miles City for supplies. Taylor had never openly asked about Russ, but she was always pleased when Mandy slipped her small pieces of information.

Russ, riding Magic, set the pace, and once they were past the barn, he pointed out a trail that led toward rolling hills of fresh, green grass. “We'll head this way.”

“Do you mind if we go a bit slower?” She swayed back and forth, beginning to feel a little seasick with the motion.

“If we went any slower, we'd be standing still.”

“What's wrong with that?” she muttered. “By the way, if it isn't too much to ask, where are you taking me?”

Russ waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “
Now
she asks.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” But his dark eyes were twinkling—a look Taylor had seen before, once too often.

She pulled back on the reins several minutes later, mildly surprised when Shadow slowed to a stop. “I don't trust you, Russ. Tell me this minute exactly where we're going.”

Russ leaned back in the saddle, nonchalantly throwing one leg around the saddle horn and clasping his hands behind his head. He was as at ease in a saddle as he was in his own living room. “No place in particular. You want to stop and rest a minute? There's a valley about a quarter mile from here.”

Taylor hated to admit how sore her posterior already felt. And they hadn't even gone very far. If she squinted, she could just make out the back of the red barn in the distance.

“Yes, let's stop and rest,” she agreed. “But no funny business.”

Theatrically Russ removed his hat and pressed it over his heart with a roguish grin. “Once again you insult me, madam.”

Taylor said nothing, unwilling to take part in his performance.

“Mandy says you're helping her sew a vest,” Russ said conversationally a few minutes later. He slowed Magic and swung down with a grace Taylor could only envy. It had taken all her strength just to raise herself into the saddle. If Russ hadn't given her a boost, she would've been caught with one foot in the stirrup and the other madly waving in midair—until she crashed to the ground.

“Need any help?”

“I can do it myself,” she announced, not the least bit confident. Surely climbing out of the saddle would be less of a strain than getting into it had been. Besides, if Russ lent her a hand, he'd use it as an excuse to kiss her. Not that she'd mind, but for once she'd enjoy having a relaxed conversation without falling into his arms like a love-starved teenager.

Taylor was pleased at how easy dismounting turned out to be. Her legs felt a little shaky, but once her feet were on the ground and she'd walked around a bit, she decided this horseback riding business wasn't as difficult as she'd assumed.

“I don't expect many more warm days like this one,” Russ said. He tilted his hat back on his head and stared into the distance. Several cattle were grazing on a hill across from them.

Taylor joined him, and he slipped an arm around her waist as familiarly as if he'd been doing so for years.

“Thank you for everything you're doing for Mandy.”

“It's nothing.”

“It's a lot. Teaching her to sew. Encouraging her. She comes home high as a kite after she's been with you, chattering a mile a minute.” A boyish grin lifted his mouth. “For that matter, I come home happy, too.”

Taylor lowered her eyes. “I think her making the drill team is what boosted her spirits more than anything. She could've walked on water the day she learned she'd been chosen.”

“Only three freshmen made the squad,” Russ said, smiling proudly.

Linking her hands behind her back, Taylor strolled over to a large tree. Leaning against the trunk, she raised one knee and rested her booted foot behind her. “I've enjoyed working with Mandy this week. She reminds me of my sister, Christy, when she was fourteen. Unfortunately I was sixteen at the time and considered Christy a major pest.”

“Mandy told me you came from a large family.”

“By today's standards, I guess you could say that. I have three older brothers, Paul, Jason and Rich. Paul's the only one who's married, and believe me, the rest of us are eternally grateful to him because he quickly presented my parents with twin sons. Now that Mom and Dad have grandchildren, the rest of us are off the hook, at least for a while.”

“You're close to your family, aren't you?”

Taylor nodded. “I can't believe how much I miss them. They must be feeling the same way because I've heard from them practically every day.”

Russ lowered himself to the grass, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his ankles. “Mandy said something about how your father reminds you of me.”

“Is nothing sacred?” she teased. If his sister had been dropping tidbits about him, she'd also done a bang-up job of keeping Russ informed of their conversations. “My dad's a born chauvinist. I don't think he's sure it was a good thing that women were granted the vote.”

Russ didn't laugh the way most people would. “I don't mind if women vote. It's holding public office that concerns me.”

Taylor shoved away from the tree so fast, she nearly fell. Her mouth worked for several seconds before any words came out. “I can't
believe
you just said that. Why
shouldn't
a woman hold public office?”

“My, my, you're always so touchy.”

“Who can blame me when you say something so ludicrous?”

“Think about it, Taylor. A woman is the very heart of a home and family. What kind of wife and mother would she be if she was so deeply involved in politics that she couldn't tend to her family?”

“I'm not hearing this,” she muttered.

“Don't you think a woman's place is with her children?”

“What about a father's place?”

“The husband's got to work in order to support the family.”

Taylor covered her face with both hands. Even if his opinion was half-meant to be provocative, arguing with him would do no good. She'd tried often enough with her father, but to no avail. The two men were equally out of date in their views, equally stubborn and difficult.

Not knowing what possessed her, she leaped forward, jerked Russ's hat from his head and took off running.

“Taylor?” Russ vaulted to his feet in one smooth movement and chased after her. “What are you doing with my hat? What's gotten into you?”

Walking backward, keeping a safe distance from him, Taylor hid the Stetson behind her. “You're narrow-minded and the second-worst chauvinist I've ever known.”

“You stole my hat because of that?”

“Yes. It was the only way I could make you suffer.”

Russ advanced toward her, taking small steps. “Give me back the hat, Taylor.”

“Forget it.” For a good part of her life, Taylor had been playing keep-away with her brothers. She might not be as big as Russ and not nearly as agile, but she was quick.

“Taylor, give me the hat,” he said again. His gaze narrowed as he advanced toward her, holding out his hand.