Книга - Lone Star Bride

Lone Star Bride
Carolyn Davidson


Wanted: a wife for the Texas lawman Sheriff’s Deputy James Webster is seeking a fresh start on a remote Texas ranch – and the last thing he needs is temptation, in the form of the ranch manager’s beautiful and innocent daughter Alexis!The only way James can ever have Alexis is by marrying her – but this stranger with a dark past will first have to prove he is worthy of protecting his Lone Star Bride…whatever it costs him…‘Davidson wonderfully captures gentleness in the midst of heart-wrenching challenges. ’ – Publishers Weekly







“You don’t frighten me,” Alexis said boldly. “And I kinda like your hands where they are.”

Jamie felt the line of her back beneath his fingertips, the flaring of her hips, the narrowing of her waist, and he slid his palms upward, knew the fullness of her breasts against his chest as he measured her width, his fingertips touching at the center of her back.



She was silent, unmoving, as if any bit of protest from her might halt his meandering. And so it might. For he was in uncharted territory here, Jamie realized.



His hands slipped to her ribs, then forward just a bit, cradling the weight of her breasts against his thumbs. It was all he could do not to clasp the softness, but he thought better of it and wisely left it for another time. For there would be another time.



Of that Jamie was certain.




Praise for Carolyn Davidson:


‘Davidson wonderfully captures gentleness in the midst of heart-wrenching challenges.’

—Publishers Weekly

OKLAHOMA SWEETHEART

‘Davidson does not stint on the gritty side of romance, but keeps the tender, heart-tugging aspects of her story in the forefront. This novel is filled with compassion and understanding for characters facing hardship and hatred and still finding joy in love and life.’

—RT Book Reviews

A MARRIAGE BY CHANCE

‘This deftly written novel about loss and recovery is a skilful handling of the traditional Western, with the added elements of family conflict and a moving love story.’

—RT Book Reviews




Lone Star Bride

Carolyn Davidson









MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Reading, writing and research—Carolyn Davidson’s life in three simple words. At least that area of her life having to do with her career as a historical romance author. The rest of her time is divided among husband, family and travel—her husband, of course, holding top priority in her busy schedule. Then there is their church, and the church choir in which they participate. Their sons and daughters, along with assorted spouses, are spread across the eastern half of America, together with numerous grandchildren. Carolyn welcomes mail at her post office box, PO Box 2757, Goose Creek, SC 29445, USA.


Recent novels by the same author:

A MARRIAGE BY CHANCE

THE TEXAN

TEMPTING A TEXAN

STORMWALKER’S WOMAN

(short story in One Starry Christmas)

TEXAS GOLD

THE MARRIAGE AGREEMENT

ABANDONED

(short story in Wed Under Western Skies)

TEXAS LAWMAN

OKLAHOMA SWEETHEART

A CHRISTMAS CHILD

(short story in The Magic of Christmas)

and in Mills & Boon® Super Historical Romance:

REDEMPTION

HAVEN

THE OUTLAW’S BRIDE

THE BRIDE


Reasons for a dedication are many and varied.

This one is due to the presence of a bona fide angel in our family. Alexis Davidson will probably never be aware of the influence she will have on the lives of those around her, yet it will be felt by all who love her. She is our baby, our own grandchild and great-grandchild, and as such she is precious.

So, to our Lexy this book is dedicated, with all the love this grandma’s heart can hold.



And to Mr. Ed, who loves me.




Prologue


Benning, Texas, Spring 1895

“I heard you’re looking for a deputy.” James Webster stood in the doorway of the local lawman’s office, presenting himself as a candidate for the job.

The sheriff, Brace Caulfield, nodded and waved a hand at the stranger. “Have a seat and tell me your qualifications, son.” The young man was dressed for the trail, his boots dusty, his clothing clean but well worn. And on his face he wore the look of a man who had lived through a heap of problems.

James took off his hat and did as instructed, bringing forth an envelope from his pack before he sat it on the floor. He handed it to the sheriff and then sat, his long legs stretching halfway across to the desk. “I’m James Webster, and I brought this for you to look at. It will give you an idea of what I’ve been up to for the past few years.”

Sheriff Caulfield opened the envelope and raised his eyes to James. “Would this be a recommendation? Have you been a lawman before?”

James shook his head. “No, but I’m a good man with a gun. I’m honest, big enough to stop any fights that might take place where a show of strength is required and I need a job.”

The sheriff bent his head over the letter he’d been offered and then handed it to the man across the desk from him. “Read this aloud for me, son. I want to think about it and I’ll do better if you read it to me.”

James nodded, although he had his doubts as to the reason he’d been asked to do the honors, so to speak. “It’s from the rancher I worked for up in Missouri. Offered to write the letter on his own hook. I’m never one to turn down a helping hand, so I brought it with me. I’d hoped it might make an impression on someone when I started job hunting. I’d done a good job for him, but it was time to move on. Texas seemed a likely place.”

“How long you been looking?” the sheriff asked.

“Not long, a month or so, maybe. I just got into town and put my horse up at the livery stable. I need a decent bed for a night or two, and when the clerk at the hotel told me your deputy had left for greener pastures, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to introduce myself to you.”

“Well,” Brace said lazily, leaning back in his chair, “read it to me. Let me hear what the man has to say. Then why don’t you get yourself a room at the hotel for a day or two and I’ll stop by at suppertime and we can eat in the dining room there. Their fried chicken is good, and I think they’ve got roast beef for the special tonight.”

James cleared his throat. “Can I just paraphrase the letter?” he asked, embarrassed to read the words that would praise him to the skies.

Brace nodded. “If you like. So long as I know what it says.”

James sat up straighter in the chair and began. “First off, he says that I’m a good man with those under my command. I was his foreman for a couple of years, and we got along pretty well.” Glancing down at the letter he held, he flushed a bit.

“He says I’m honest, dependable and a good hand with a gun.” With that, Jamie folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. “I’m not lily-white, Sheriff, and I’m not about to play any games with you.” He met the lawman’s gaze and hesitated. “I’ve been a rascal in my time, but my record speaks for my life over the past couple of years.”

“What sort of rascal are we talking about here?” Brace asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “You get in any big trouble while you sowed your wild oats?”

“I hurt some folks. Caused some problems that will probably haunt me till the day I die. But I’ve done my best to make amends with my family and…”

“And?” Brace nudged his visitor into an explanation.

“And the girl who was hurt by my actions.”

“Physically? Were you abusive?” And if the young fella answered the wrong way, he’d be out the door in a heartbeat, Brace decided.

“No. But I left her in the family way and pret’ near ruined her life. If my brother hadn’t stepped in and cleaned up my mess, I don’t know what would have happened.” Jamie’s face was drawn, aging in moments, Brace thought, as if he bore scars that were still fresh and unhealed.

“There’ll be no damn carrying-on from this office. I want you to know that right up front. I don’t hold with men taking advantage of womenfolk.” Brace spoke his mind with forceful language, and the man across the desk from him nodded in agreement.

“I think we understand each other, Sheriff,” James said. “And now, if it’s all right with you, I’ll go and get that hotel room.” He stood and offered his hand. “I appreciate your time, sir. I want you to know that things in my life have done a turnaround. I’ve wanted to turn my life in a new direction, and this might be the very thing I need. Working on a ranch was good for me, but I’m ready for something else. This feels like a mighty decent place to hang my hat for a while, and I’m plannin’ on settlin’ in and makin’ a good life here.”

Brace Caulfield nodded. “It’s a dandy place to live. Lots of good folks hereabouts. In fact,” he said, rising from his chair, “here comes one of them right now.”

Across the threshold from James stood a tall man, dark haired with piercing blue eyes. “One what, Sheriff?” he asked.

“One of the nice folks from this town,” Brace answered with a laugh. “At least I keep telling folks you’re a nice fella.”

“Well, if you hear of any other nice fellas looking for a job, send them on out to my place. I need a new hired hand.”

“Well, you can’t have this one, Nick. I’m lookin’ him over for the job of deputy.”

He turned then to James. “This here is Nicholas Garvey, one of the ranchers hereabouts. If you don’t like the offer I make you, maybe he can do better for you.”

“I’ve kinda got my heart set on being a lawman,” James said.

“Any special reason?” Nicholas asked.

James stood a bit straighter. “I’ve got a yen to see justice done. Maybe because I haven’t always paid my dues the way I should have, and I need to make up for it. My brother and I buried my pa up in Oklahoma a couple of years ago and it did my heart good when the crook that killed him got sent away for the rest of his life.”

“You can’t seek revenge on your pa by chasing down the men who misbehave in this town, son,” Brace said.

“I don’t want revenge. I’ve already seen the man go off to prison. But I want the chance to be a part of a system that works, where those who hurt others are brought to justice and punished for their crimes. Whether it be a stay in jail or in a federal prison.”

“Sounds like your candidate has his head screwed on straight,” Nicholas offered, looking James over thoroughly, then smiling at the young man, as if he’d sought imperfections, and failed to find them.

“We’ll see,” Brace said. “At any rate, I’ll meet you for supper at the hotel about six, James. Is that the name your family calls you? James?”

“My brother and sister-in-law have been known to call me Jamie,” he said with a grin.

“Sounds like a good name to me. I think I’ll pin it on you officially, after we talk tonight. Seems to me I’d better hunt up a deputy’s badge for you.”

A sense of peace enveloped Jamie. Perhaps his soul searching and wandering days would cease.




Chapter One


Benning, Texas, Spring 1903

“I’ve been your deputy, working in this office with you for eight years, Sheriff.” Jamie leaned against the door frame and managed to roll up his life over the past eight years into a neat bundle. A bundle he no longer wanted to live with.

“I assume you’re about to quit,” Brace said. “And I don’t like it, not one little bit. Unhappy with me? Or the wages? Or just the life of a deputy, in general?”

“None of the choices you’ve just pulled out of the hat,” Jamie returned quickly. “I just don’t feel that I’m getting anywhere. I’m a whiz at breaking up fights in the saloons, I’m up to date on all the wanted posters and to tell the truth, I’m sick and tired of standing on the sidelines while you’ve managed in the past four years to put together a life with the prettiest girl in town, along with you and Sarah adopting her nephew.

“But I’ll have to admit, it’s been a real education watching you with Sarah and Stephen. Hope I can do as well as you when I get a family of my own.”

“I’ll have to admit that marriage agrees with me.”

“Hope I can say that someday. But for now I’ve about decided I need to be doing something different with myself.”

Brace leaned back in his chair and surveyed his deputy. “To tell the truth, I’ve been thinking about a proposition I’d like to toss in your direction. See what you think of it.”

“Does it include my moving on? Leaving Benning?”

“You don’t sound happy about that idea,” Brace said. “You haven’t put down any roots here, Jamie. You got a problem with living somewhere else?”

“No. But I tend to be a creature of habit.” He paused and stood erect, facing the man who had been his mentor and friend. “If you’ve got something to offer me, let’s hear it. I suspect you wouldn’t put me on the wrong track, Sheriff.”

“Well, to tell the truth, I don’t know much myself about the place I’d like to send you. But clear across the state is a piece of property that belongs to my son, Stephen.”

“The ranch he inherited from his birth father’s family?”

“The very one,” Brace said. “There’s a man running things on the ranch on a temporary basis, but I’d feel better about the whole thing if I knew more about what was going on behind the letters I get from him. He was the ranch foreman before Stephen’s grandfather died three years ago and I’ve let it go long enough the way it is. The judge ordered us to put a man of my own in place as manager when Sarah and I adopted Stephen legally. It’ll give me more control over the ranch, and there’ll be a better chance of Stephen taking over a thriving concern when he’s old enough.”

“Are we talking about me running the ranch?”

“Well, I always did say you catch on quick,” Brace said with a chuckle. “Didn’t take you long to figure that one out, did it?”

“Let me think about it, Brace. I’ll need to know what’s expected of me to begin with.”

“Just be yourself, get to know the men and make the ranch successful. I’m laying odds you can do that.”

“Anything else I should know if I decide to do this?” Jamie felt there was a gap in the information. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

“I’ve heard that there’s a fly in the ointment,” Brace admitted. “The daughter of the foreman has been causing some problems among the men. Her daddy is right fond of her, but in one case a couple of the men have come to blows over her, and things are unsettled right now. Sort of a state of armed warfare.”

Jamie shook his head. “You’re talking about sending me into a full-fledged battle, aren’t you?”

“If I didn’t think you could handle things, I wouldn’t have brought it up or made you an offer. There’s a nice, big raise in pay attached, son. Enough to make it worth your while.”

“I’ve kept my nose clean here in Benning, Brace. Learned that dealing with a female is mighty wearing on a man. Especially if it’s a woman who already has a string of admirers a mile long and would no doubt like to add another one to her list.”

“You can handle it. You’ve managed to handle yourself pretty well here. Not a woman in sight has complained about you.”

“I’m pretty boring these days. Kind of a reformed scamp, Sheriff. I learned a long time ago to behave myself with the ladies.”

Brace leaned back in his chair and shot Jamie an inquiring look. “Maybe you really did learn your lesson, son. I haven’t pried too much into your past, but I’m sure you’ve got one worth talking about.”

“I’m not much for making a fuss over something I can’t erase from my record. I’ve told you before about my brother and his wife and their two children. They’re still in Oklahoma, and we’re on good terms,” Jamie said. “That’s the extent of my family, except for my mother, who lives near Dallas with her sister.”

“Well, I’ve found you to be honest and capable. If you want the job, it’s yours.”



Three weeks later Jamie arrived at his destination. The ranch looked to be a prosperous one, he decided. He rode up to the sign, hanging over a long lane that obviously led to the house and a series of outbuildings beyond it. The name on the sign was simple: Clark & Sons. It would have to be changed, Jamie thought. The present owner was still related to the Clark family, but Stephen was officially named Caulfield, and as the legal deed holder to the land and buildings on it, even though he was underage—just twelve years old—he deserved to have a say in the name of his property.

Maybe he’d write to Stephen and let him figure out a name; perhaps the boy would want to consult with Brace and Sarah before he made up his mind. On the other hand, it wouldn’t hurt to come up with a new sign for the place, something that would reflect a new owner. In the meantime, there were folks to meet and a job to do right here. His horse turned eagerly up the lane and Jamie took note of a smoke house, chicken coop and a large barn. As if the gelding scented hay and oats in his future, he broke into a quick trot.

It had been a long ride from Benning, north of Dallas, but finding the ranch in good condition and catching sight of a herd of healthy-appearing cattle in the verdant pasture beside the lane made Jamie feel he’d come home here near the border between Texas and New Mexico. And with that in mind, he rode up to the house and around it to the back door. A watering trough with a pitcher pump next to it, which would provide fresh water for his horse, drew his attention, and he rode in that direction, past a woodshed whose open door revealed a good supply within.

Removing the bit from his gelding’s mouth, he watched as the horse drank deeply, then led him to a nearby hitching rail to tie him firmly in place. A ranch hand came from the barn as Jamie lifted his saddlebags from the animal’s back.

“Hi there, mister,” the tall, lanky cowhand called out. “Who you lookin’ for?”

“Whoever’s in charge,” Jamie answered, knowing well that the foreman’s name was Hank Powers.

“That would be Hank,” the cowhand said. “He’s in the house. Can I walk your horse for you?”

“Sure thing. He’s had a long morning, and he needs to be cooled before I feed him.”

“Yes sir, I can do that. My name’s Chet Dawson by the way.” He looked Jamie over with apparent interest. “You wouldn’t be the new man from Benning, would you?”

“The very one,” Jamie said. “Were you expecting me?”

“Yeah, Hank told us you were on your way. Welcome to the ranch.”

“Thanks,” Jamie answered agreeably, and turned to the house.

The back door opened and a young woman stood on the threshold, looking at him with interest. She stepped back as he approached and he followed her into the kitchen. A man sat at the table, a full plate of food before him, a fork in his hand.

“Mr. Powers?” Jamie asked, removing his hat and standing just inside the doorway.

“That’s me, son,” the man answered. “But the name is Hank. And you’re Jamie, unless I miss my guess.” After a moment’s pause, he looked up at the young woman beside him. “This is my daughter, Alexis.”

The woman had eyes like none he’d ever seen before, green as grass, with a sparkle built in, Jamie decided. They glittered in the light from the open door as she allowed her gaze to sweep over him. “I understand you’ve been sheriff for some time, east of here,” she said, her voice low, with a tinge of humor touching her words.

“No,” Jamie replied honestly. “I’ve been a deputy, and that’s a long way from being a sheriff, ma’am. But I’ve done the job for eight years.”

“Your boss seems to think you qualify for a chance at running this ranch,” Hank said, his cool eyes doing a once-over on Jamie, making him feel like a prize pig at the county fair.

“That’s what he told me. It was a mighty appealing offer or I wouldn’t have left a sure thing in Benning to ride clear across the state to come here.”

“Well, welcome,” Hank said expansively. “You’ve just freed me up to handle my own concerns, instead of minding the store here.”

“Where do I put my gear?” Jamie asked, feeling a need for coffee and a chair that would receive his tired body. Riding as he had, he’d come to appreciate the comfort of a soft bed and cup of fresh-brewed coffee, neither of which he’d been offered for several days. Sleeping under a tree and drinking the dregs of last night’s coffee for his breakfast was a vivid memory as he scented the freshness of the cup delivered to the table before him.

“Just drop your saddlebag on the floor and we’ll fix you up with a place to put it once you’ve had some food,” Alexis told him, watching as he pulled the sugar bowl toward him and spooned a heaping teaspoon of sugar into his black coffee.

“No cream?” she asked.

He shook his head as he picked up his cup. “No, this is fine.” And fine it was, dark, thick and sweet, tasting of fragrant coffee beans, freshly ground.

Alexis filled a plate from the skillets on the stove, lifting pancakes from one, sausage from another, then positioned it squarely before Jamie. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said, placing a fork beside his plate.

He looked up at her, noting the cool flash of silver in her green eyes, contrasting with the warmth of full lips that revealed even white teeth as she spoke. Her hair was golden, drawn up at the back of her head, small wispy curls escaping to frame her face. It was no wonder the men were ga-ga over her, he decided. Pretty as a picture, and no doubt more than aware of it. Her features were just short of being considered beautiful, with a small cleft in her chin and a birthmark on her right cheek, just beneath her temple.

Not that either of those defects would put off a determined man, set on seduction. He was no exception to the rule, given his lack of female companionship over the past little while. Longer than that. He’d not been out courting or even walking a young lady home from church or one of the dances held in Benning in months. As he’d promised the sheriff there, he’d kept his hands to himself and not been a hand with the ladies even when the opportunity arose.

For some reason, his energy had gone into his work, women taking a backseat to his job in the sheriff’s office. Now he had a whole new set of circumstances staring him in the face, number one being his new job. There wasn’t time to be looking at a woman, even one as pretty and appealing as Alexis Powers. But he might just consider the matter. Sometimes a man needed the warmth of a woman and unless he missed his guess, this one was a prime specimen.

He tucked into his plate of food, relishing the light pancakes especially. “Tastes like the pancakes my mama used to make me for breakfast.” His approval was apparent, and Alexis offered him two more, balanced on her pancake turner. Jamie nodded his thanks at the offer, and buttered them lavishly, then poured on a generous helping of syrup.

Across the table from him, Hank finished up his own share of the food and leaned back in his chair, as if assessing the young man who’d come to take over the running of the ranch. “What are your plans, Webster?” His query was nicely worded, but his eyes told a different story, flashing fire in Jamie’s direction.

“Haven’t got any yet,” James answered. “I just got here, Hank. Give me a week to settle in and I’ll answer your questions.”

“Is Brace Caulfield unhappy with my work here? He hasn’t given me any grief up until now,” Hank said. “I’ve kept him up to date on everything that goes on.”

“He’s pleased the ranch is thriving, but he seems to want someone in charge who’ll have a vested interest in the ranch. And that’s me. I answer directly to Brace, with an eye to presenting a first-class operation to the boy when the time comes for him to take over.”

“He’s a Clark,” Hank said quietly, and yet Jamie caught a hint of bitterness in the words.

“Yeah, he is. And just what do you mean by that?” Jamie asked, on the alert for the man’s negative attitude toward Stephen. The boy might have been born a Clark, but Brace and Sarah had given him more than just a new name.

Hank shrugged, a slow movement of his wide shoulders. “Just that old man Clark was pretty much a rascal, and so were the sons. I suspect blood runs true in the family, at least from what I’ve seen for myself, and I don’t look for much in the boy.”

“The boy, as you call him, is named Stephen and is being brought up by Brace Caulfield and his wife, Sarah, Stephen’s aunt. Even though he came from a father who abused him, he has a good home and will have a top-notch upbringing. I don’t think he’ll be a disgrace to his folks, and one day he’s going to take over this ranch and run it well, contrary to what his heritage suggests might be the case. Sarah’s twin was his mother and he’s gonna do her proud.”

“You ever consider bein’ a lawyer?” Hank asked with a grin. “You do a dandy job of defending the boy.”

“I suspect he’s too honest to be a lawyer,” Alexis said quietly, the coffeepot in her hand as she approached the table and the two men sitting there. “More coffee, Mr. Webster?” she asked.

“Thanks, I believe I will,” Jamie said, careful not to pay any particular attention to the girl. Woman is more like it, he thought glancing down to where her booted feet stood beside his chair. It was understandable that the men on this ranch were squabbling for the chance to court her. Causing discord among the men was forbidden, though, and he would not stand for it.

“And what do you do with your time, Miss Alexis?” he asked, picking up his cup.

“I cook a bit, ride a lot and in general do whatever needs to be done. I’m more interested in the young foals, but that job is pretty well already taken by men probably more capable than I am. My father won’t let me work on the roundup or in the branding pens, but I lend a hand with the orphaned calves when necessary. I’m real handy with a bottle when the mama has lost the battle and a calf is left alone.”

“A lot of those for you to tend?” Jamie asked, looking up at her with bland interest. At least he hoped his look didn’t hold a shred of the attraction he felt for the girl.

“Usually several in the spring, only two this year. We were lucky.” She turned and set the coffeepot back on the stove and hesitated.

“What do you plan on doing with your time, Mr. Webster?”

“Can we make it Jamie, or James?” he asked with a bland smile. “Whichever you like will do.”

She turned then, gave him a long look as if she read his thoughts, and her answer was what he had expected. “If you’ll be informal enough to call me Alex or Alexis, whichever you like.”

“I can do that,” Jamie answered quickly. “If it’s all right with your pa.”

“She’s her own woman,” Hank said, leaning back in his chair and smiling at his daughter. “I quit tellin’ her what to do when she started puttin’ her hair up.”

Jamie looked at Alexis, whose hair hung in golden splendor around her shoulders and halfway down her back. “And when was that?” he asked.

“Well, most of the time she’s all gussied up with that mop of hair on top of her head or hanging in a braid down her back. It’s usually only at breakfast time that we see her this-a-way.” Hank laughed and shot a tender look at his daughter. “I kinda like breakfast,” he said softly.

Alexis left the stove to fend for itself and circled the table to stand next to her father. “He’s a bit prejudiced,” she told Jamie, bending to plant a kiss on her father’s temple.

“I can see why.” Jamie swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood, wondering how those lips would taste against his own. “I’m gonna take a look around, if you don’t mind,” he said to Hank. “Kinda get the feel of things.”

“No problem with that. It’s all yours now, Webster.”

“Not really,” Jamie said, contradicting the man. “You’ll still have a bundle of work to do, keeping up with all the numbers and giving me tips. Right now I’d like to meet the men who are working close-by.”

“I wrote to Caulfield and told him I’d give you my support. I’ll be happy to do whatever you have in mind for me.”

It was almost too easy, Jamie thought. Too slick a turnover, with a stranger coming in and the foreman stepping back without an argument. And yet, maybe Hank was tired of the hassle involved with dealing with men and a ranch of this size.

“I’ll come out with you and we can ride around to where the men are working,” Hank said. “You want a different horse, or are you planning to use your own?”

“My gelding is pretty worn-out from crossing Texas in the past few days,” Jamie said. “What do you have in the barn?”

“A couple of nice mares and a hot-blooded stallion that’ll give you a run for your money. I guess you get to choose any horse you want, boss.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow and hitched up his trousers, feeling his gun as it thumped against his thigh. “I’m not much for being the bossy type, Hank. I hope you know right off the bat that I’m not here to make any sweeping changes or chop any heads off. I’m just doing a job for my boss. And that’s the man I answer to in the long run.”



“I’ve already exchanged ‘howdies’ with Chet,” Jamie said. “Just haven’t shaken his hand yet.”

“Here’s your chance then,” Hank said as their horses moved to stand beside that of the ranch hand in question.

Jamie stuck out his right hand and Chet did not hesitate, grasping it in a friendly manner. “Yes sir, I’ve taken a gander at this fella before, Hank. He rides a right pretty horse.”

“Pretty horse?” Hank repeated, lifting his eyebrow as if he mocked the phrase.

“You know what I’m sayin’,” Chet said with a laugh. “If it was a mare, I’d call her a beauty. Since he rides a gelding, and a nice-lookin’ pinto at that, he’s simply pretty.”

“Chet’s our number one hand around here,” Hank said with a grin in Jamie’s direction. “He’s an old-timer. Been around for more years than I have.”

“This is home,” Chet said, with a trace of smug satisfaction in his voice. “I was raised here by my pa after my mother died.”

“Who else do we have working out here?” Jamie asked, nodding at Chet’s words. “I’ll warrant there’s no one else with your record.”

“Nope. But Slim comes right close,” Chet told him. “He’s been here since he was sixteen or so. A good man with horses. He’s out back with the horses right now.”

The girl had mentioned horses, he remembered, stating her liking for them. “You’re running a big herd of horses, along with your cattle here?” Jamie asked.

Hank nodded. “If it’s a bad year for cattle, drought or flood conditions or whatever might happen along to give us problems, we can rely on the horses to take up the slack. We had a big storm a few years ago in February, snowed us in for three days, and all the time we had cows calving out in the back forty. Lost twelve of our heifers and most of their calves. We’d just as soon not see that happen again. Winter storms can be disasters for us.”

“Why hadn’t you brought the cows in closer to the barn, knowing they were at risk?” Jamie asked, his words a blunt criticism of Hank’s actions.

“The storm hit before we were prepared for it. It had been warming up right well for a couple of weeks, and no one looked for snow, least of all me.”

“Maybe we’ll bring the pregnant cows in close next winter and keep them within sight. I’d hate to see that sort of thing happen again,” Jamie said firmly.

“You’re right,” Hank told him. “In fact, I’m beginning to think you’ll be good for the Clark ranch. You’re young and you’re bound to have fresh ideas.”

“That’s another thing. We’re gonna change the name of the ranch,” Jamie told him. “Until I get other instructions from Brace Caulfield, we’ll call this place the Double C. I’d like to see a sign put together and hung down at the county road. What do you think?”

“Clark and Caulfield, huh? Sounds all right to me.”

“Who can make a sign? A big one on a slab of hardwood,” Jamie asked.

Chet spoke up quickly. “That would be Woody, and you get one guess why we call him that.” His chuckle was short and he underlined his words. “The man is a whiz with anything to do with building stuff or working with wood. He’s been around for years, and the big house has a bunch of his furniture inside. Take a look at the tables in the parlor, Webster,” he said, his pride audible, as if he were, in some way, responsible for Woody’s reputation.

“I’ll do that.” Jamie looked around, back toward the barn. “Where is he now?”

“Working on new mangers for the standing stalls,” Chet told him. “We went over the barn pretty good, and Woody said they needed to be replaced. And what Woody says, goes, as far as fixin’ up the barn is concerned.”

“Sounds like a handy fella to have around.” Jamie said, thinking he’d like to meet this paragon of woodworking today.

“You’ll find out,” Chet told him flatly. “We all depend on Woody.”

Jamie turned his mount in a tight circle and headed back to the barn. “I’ll take a look here before we go any farther afield,” he told Hank. The stallion he’d chosen to ride was skittish, but Jamie held him in with a firm hand, and, once he’d dismounted, led him into the barn, seeking the man in question.

The sound of a hammer drew him down the aisle and toward the farthest stall. A big man, easily six inches or so past six feet tall, backed into the aisle ahead of him and turned to face Jamie.

“You must be Woody,” Jamie said. “I’ve been hearing about you.”

“Well, don’t believe everything you hear,” the big man said. “I don’t make magic with my saw and hammer. In fact, I just do what I enjoy most, and the boss thinks I’m a wonder child.”

“If the interior of this barn is a tribute to your skill, I’d have to agree with him,” Jamie said, surveying the well-built stalls. “Can you work as well with the livestock as you do with wood?”

“You better believe it,” Woody said. “I was raised on a horse by my pa. Been herding cattle for twenty years or so.”

Jamie stuck out his hand. “I think we’ll get along just fine, Woody.” In a few words, Jamie told the man what he wanted, measuring the length and width of the sign he had in mind with outstretched arms, and Woody only nodded agreeably. “Does that sound like something you can put together in a few days?” Jamie asked.

“Send Miss Alex out to print the letters you want on the sign, so I can chip them out and paint them black, and I’ll have it done by tonight.”

“Alexis?” Jamie was surprised by the request.

“Yeah, I don’t read or write real good and she’s always a good one to lend a hand.”

“I’ll ask her, then.”

“Ask me what?” From behind him, the woman’s voice spoke a challenge and Jamie turned to her.

“Will you give Woody a hand with a sign he’s about to make for the ranch?”

“He knows I will,” she said, shooting a wide smile in the ranch hand’s direction.

Woody was a bit old for her, but she obviously enjoyed practicing her feminine wiles on any handy male. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jamie said, leading his horse past the girl and out the door. She turned as he passed her by, and he was struck again by her eyes, which seemed as bright as the new leaves on a maple tree in the spring.

“Anybody ever tell you you’ve got eyes that could tempt a man to lose his head?” he asked her quietly, lest Woody hear him. It was bad enough he was flirting with the girl, but to let someone else be privy to his words was not quite the thing, he thought.

And as if she had heard such a flattering query on a daily basis, Alexis only nodded. “Among other things I’ve been told,” she said, “such as hair like sunshine and a face likely to draw men like flies. I’m not impressed.”

He’d never been scorned quite so readily, Jamie thought, and yet it made the pursuit all the sweeter, knowing he had to overcome the girl’s distrust of him and the male sex in general. At least that was the message he’d gotten from her remarks.

“I wasn’t trying to impress you,” he told her with a grin, “merely stating a fact.”

“It takes more than a smart remark about my green eyes to make me sit up and take notice of a man. I’m not much on men, and certainly cowhands aren’t my first choice as suitors.”

“Who said I was aiming to be a suitor? I had more in mind a few minutes in the moonlight or on the back porch, rocking the swing back and forth.”

“A few minutes in the moonlight? I don’t think so. I’m particular about who I spend my time with, and my nighttime hours are spent in the house.”

“Your pa watches over you pretty closely, I’ll bet,” Jamie said. “I could relieve him of the chore a couple of evenings a week. Maybe I’ll approach him and see what he thinks of the idea.”

“I think you’d better keep your ideas to yourself, and leave me alone. I’m not in the market for a man.”

Jamie tipped his hat and walked on, circling his horse and then springing into the saddle with an easy movement. “We’ll see,” he said, tipping his hat and offering a small salute in her direction.

Her mouth was drawn into a prim line and he was sorely tempted to pick her up and sling her across his saddle. His mouth twitched as he thought of kissing her into submission. She offered a challenge, and he was never one to turn his back on such a thing. Yet, making his way here with care was important. He couldn’t do anything to cause Brace’s temper to flare in his direction no matter how tempting the woman was.

This job was made for a man like James Webster, working with cows, horses and a handful of cowhands who were already in place and doing a good job. A woman could not be allowed to gain his attention to the extent that he neglected his duties here.

No matter that she was pretty. No, make that lovely, for her golden hair and tempting form were enough to bring James, or any man, he decided promptly, to attention. Features that might grace a statue formed her face, a trim nose, wide eyes that made his gaze veer back to her again, not to mention her lithe and lissome body that filled out the shirt and trousers she wore in an elegant fashion.

He felt an urge to lay his hands on her, and he turned aside, dousing it firmly. She was marriage material and he wasn’t ready yet. The memory of one girl in his past still haunted him. Loris, his first real love, a girl he had hurt, almost beyond repair. A woman he should have married. Now she was wed to his brother, and he could only ruefully regret his actions that had lost him her love.

He’d do well to keep his hands and his hungry eyes off Alexis. She was trouble.




Chapter Two


The stench of burning hair and the scorched flesh beneath it were familiar to Jamie, but still not welcome. He’d worked hard for two months, branding calves, cutting bullocks and herding cattle. But living with the odor of the branding iron doing its work was something he was not particularly fond of.

Yet, the other men were sweating as much as he, were at least as tired as his weary body proclaimed with aches and pains in every possible muscle he owned. And he would not rest while they labored. According to Hank, he had the right to oversee, observe and direct the work, but Jamie had learned from a master in Missouri, and found that the men respected a foreman more if he knew how to work alongside them, and did so without making a fuss over it.

They’d set up camp at the farthest north end of the ranch, sleeping on the ground, working long hours and striving to finish the job in record time. Jamie had gained the friendship of his men, found them to be loyal and honest, and most of all trustworthy. If one of them said he would do a chore, he did it. No dithering, no excuses, just a job well done.

“You tired, cowboy?” Alexis spoke from behind him as he sat close to the campfire. She’d shown up today, bedroll behind her saddle, and Cookie had told him that it was her usual habit to come in at the end of branding and lend a hand.

The men appreciated her slender form flitting around the camp, laughed at her remarks and seemed to perk up, their aching bodies forgotten for a while, as they worshipped at her feet. Figuratively speaking, of course, but it wasn’t too far a stretch of the imagination to visualize them surrounding her in such a manner.

Now she had approached him, and Jamie swallowed the sharp retort that hovered on his lips. If the girl thought he was the latest in her list of conquests, she was wrong. He’d managed to stay clear of her, and though she tempted him mightily, he’d forged a path that didn’t include dallying with Alexis Powers.

“We’re all tired, Alex,” he said moodily, staring into the smouldering coals before him. “Branding cattle is a hard job and these men have worked for ten days, nonstop.”

“They tell me you’re doing more than your share, Jamie.” She circled him and stood between his spot on the ground and the dying fire. “I suspect Brace Caulfield knew what he was doing when he sent you here. My father sure hasn’t found any fault with you, and that’s a rare one. He can always pick a man apart, given a while to watch him operate. You’ve passed the test, I suspect.”

Jamie nodded, looking up at the challenge that glittered in her eyes. “I’m sure I’m pleased about that, Alex. It’s always nice to gain appreciation for what you do. I’m no exception.”

“Can I sit down by you?” she asked, her voice lowering as though she didn’t want to be overheard.

“Sure. The ground’s kinda hard, but it beats standing there.” He felt a twinge of guilt at his offhanded invitation, but she seemed not to notice his words as anything but welcoming.

With a smooth, almost melting glide, she settled beside him, and he felt himself blinking at her method of movement. She’d gone from standing to sitting cross-legged next to him with one easy bend of legs and body. As if her bones were elastic, her muscles more flexible than was normal. “Graceful” was the word he chose to describe her.

Graceful and lovely. Quite a combination. Certainly enough to tempt a man almost beyond reason. And James Webster was a man. He fought the urge to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her closer. His eyes touched the bridge of her nose, the slope of her cheek and the soft pouting lines of her mouth. Unless he was mightily mistaken, the lady was trying to work her way under his skin.

“You haven’t paid much attention to me,” she said quietly, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, her chin cupped in her hands.

“I didn’t know that was a part of my job. I’d have thought you were wearing a ‘hands off’ sign around your neck, if your father’s attitude was anything to go by. You’re a flirt, Miss Powers, and on top of that I consider you forbidden territory.”

She turned her head and her smile was feline, like a cat who spies a mouse and is contemplating its capture. “I make the rules, Mr. Webster. And in case you’ve forgotten, my name is Alexis.”

“I forget very little, ma’am. I’m well aware of your name. And I’m aware that you’re about the most tempting little piece of womanhood I’ve run across in quite some time.”

“It doesn’t show,” she said flatly. “You’ve gone out of your way to ignore me.”

“Trust me. You don’t want me to pay any mind to you. I play for keeps.”

“For keeps? And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not sixteen years old, ma’am. I’m a full-grown man, with all the right equipment to enjoy myself with a woman. I don’t do things halfway. If you hang around me very long, you’re likely to find yourself in a heap of trouble.”

Alexis laughed, a buoyant sound that pleased him, and tempted him mightily.

“Do I look worried? You won’t be the first man to try frightening me. I learned a long time ago that men were only little boys, grown up. The only difference is that you’re bigger than I am, stronger and probably able to pick me up with one hand. All of that aside, I’m a woman who knows her own mind, and the fact that I sat down here to talk to you doesn’t make me available to you. Not in any other way than that of a friend.”

“You think I can pick you up in one hand?” He’d caught that part of her speech, smiled to himself as he gauged her height and weight and decided she was right. If she weighed much over a hundred pounds, he’d be surprised. And her height brought her just to his chin, probably an inch or two over five feet. A womanly little package indeed, with much to offer a man.

“Yeah, I do,” she answered, laughing again. “I’ve seen you roping and rassling calves to the ground, and a couple of good-sized bullocks, too. I’ll bet you’re a tough customer to cross, James Webster. And I have no intention of taking you on.”

“Don’t you, now?” he asked softly, looking down at her profile, at the line of her chin, her clasped hands beneath it, at the small dip at the bridge of her nose, not noticeable from the front view, but intriguing from where he was sitting.

She looked at him, a quick flash of green eyes, and sat up straight, her head lifting as if she scented something that appealed to her. “I’m no dummy, James. You’ve been around, I’ll bet. You’ve probably had women from here to yonder and back, and I’m not about to be added to your list.”

“How about adding me to your list, then?” he asked bluntly. “I understand that you’ve had the men here lined up for a smile from you for a long time now.”

“Who on earth told you that?” she asked, seeming indignant at his words.

“My boss. Said that you were the most popular creature on this ranch. Told me that all the hands were vying for your attention.”

“And have you seen me leading anyone on?” she asked smartly. “Do I come across as a woman of dubious virtue?”

Jamie grinned at her. “No, I’d say you were very much a virgin, sweetheart.” He watched as a dark flush rose to cover her cheeks. “You’re smart enough to keep the men at bay, at least until the right one comes along and is willing to pay the price for a spot in your bed.”

“Pay the price? What is that supposed to mean?” She looked stunned at his words, and he found himself rethinking the harsh statement he’d made.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Alex. Far from it, in fact. I think you’re a smart lady, not likely to fall for a line of blarney from any man. I expect one day you’ll marry well, and make your daddy proud of you.”

“And the price I’ll ask for that is?”

“A license to marry, a good bank account and the promise of a man who will cater to your every whim and follow you around like a faithful hound for the rest of your life.”

She turned away, and he swallowed hard. She was worth every bit of that, and he wondered if she had even considered what it would take for a man to come up to her father’s requirements for her hand in marriage.

“You don’t like me, do you?” she asked.

It was his turn to laugh, and he did so with pleasure. If the woman only knew! “I like you, sweetheart. Well enough to haul you off into the woods and make love to you till morning. But, of course, I’m not gonna do that. I’d be layin’ my head on a chopping block if I tried such a stunt.”

She turned back to him and her chin was lifted a bit, her eyes flashing green fire in his direction. “And you think I’d have nothing to say about that? You think I’d just go along with you without a protest?”

“If I wanted to cart you off, you wouldn’t have a word to say. At least you wouldn’t be saying anything. I’d have your mouth sufficiently covered to make sure you didn’t sound an alarm, and we’d be in the midst of those trees in seconds.” He grinned at her again. “But don’t get upset, I’m not plannin’ on any such a thing, Alex. When I take you to bed, it’ll be all aboveboard and legal.”

“Legal?” She seemed stunned and he leaned forward, taking advantage of the moment of indecision on her part, placing his mouth squarely on hers and lifting his hand to the back of her head. The kiss was long, warm and wet, Jamie not averse to exploring her mouth, no matter the men who worked just yards away and were likely to be watching.

She pulled away, and he allowed it, removing his hand from her head to hold her shoulder, lest she leap to her feet and disappear. “What do you mean?” she asked. And then blushed as if his words had finally penetrated her mind. “Legal? Like in marriage?”

“Like in marriage,” he said quietly. “I’ve learned not to leap into the fire ahead of the bucket brigade, sweetheart. I’m not into taking a virgin’s prized possession ahead of time. I can wait.”

She flushed even deeper, her face rosy, her eyes widening. “You can wait? You surely can, Mr. Webster. For the rest of your life, as far as I’m concerned. Don’t try to kiss me again. I won’t have it.”

With another smooth, lithe movement, she stood and looked down at him. “I wish you a good night’s sleep, Mr. Webster. And unless a rattlesnake should come calling, you’ll probably be just fine in your blanket roll.” Not looking back, she strolled from his side and made her way to the chuck wagon, where Cookie sat on a bench, drinking a cup of coffee.

He looked up at his visitor and smiled a welcome, apparently asking her if she wanted to join him in toasting the night with a mug of her own. Alexis nodded and sat beside him, watching as he bent to pour another cupful from the pot over the flames. She took it from him, smiling with a dazzling display of white teeth, and then set about charming the old man, laughing at his words, drinking his coffee and knowing full well that James was watching.

He could almost read her mind, he decided. He’d named her rightly. She was a flirt, a woman without fear of being scorned by any man, and it was just his luck to be besotted by her. Even as he watched her, his hands itched to touch her perfect skin, to run his fingers through the length of her golden hair. She’d coiled it up atop her head in a braid, and he fantasized about taking it down, undoing the braid and fluffing it around her shoulders and down her back.

He wanted to kiss her again, and the memory of her soft mouth, of the sweetness of her flesh, was a spur in his hide, a burr beneath his saddle. He could, as ranch foreman, as overseer of the whole place, demand that she leave the camp in the morning, once the sun rose, and make her way back to the ranch house.

For her own protection, it would be the best idea. And yet, it would take her from his sight, from his hearing. That laugh that rippled on the air would be gone. The green eyes that sent him mixed messages would be miles away, and he would yearn for her presence here, no matter how she aggravated him and played havoc with his life.

The woman was exactly what he’d been looking for, during all the years when he played the field, when his methods had been so heartless, so uncaring to the females he’d loved and left behind. Now, this little girl…no, this woman, he thought, had turned his brain to mush, his manhood to iron and given him a foretaste of a sleepless night, one in which he would mentally seek out her bedroll and crawl in beside her.

He watched her as she rose and left the camp cook, wending her way through the three campfires that burned, each of them warming several men, each of whom owned admiring masculine eyes, all of them aimed in her direction.

When she’d made the half circle that brought her past his position, he called her name, softly, but with enough sound to carry to her listening ears. She halted her progress and looked at him, unmoving.

“Come here, Alex,” he said. And wonder of wonders, she did as he’d asked. Although commanded might be a better term, he thought.

“What do you want?” she asked, standing before him.

“I want you to unroll your blanket over here, near mine,” he said firmly. “I’m planning to keep an eye on you tonight.”

“You’re going to look after me? I doubt that.”

“You’d better believe it, honey. I don’t want your daddy on my tail should anybody cause you any trouble out here.”

“These men all know me. They know better than to give me any grief.” Her words sounded firm, but he sensed a thread of doubt in her posture, her hands stuffed into her pockets, her eyes shifting around the area surrounding them.

“Even so, Alex, I want you over here. I want to be able to see anything that happens during the night. And in case you’re going to protest, I’ll tell you right now that I’m a light sleeper. I don’t miss much.”

“I’ll just bet you don’t.” Stalking to where she’d stowed her bedroll, near the chuck wagon, she brought it back, halting about six feet away from him, then rolled it open and sat down. “Happy now?” she asked.

He deigned to answer, only shooting her a complacent look, guaranteed to make her stew, designed to fuel her fires of anger.

It was late when Jamie sought his bed. The girl who’d rolled up in a blanket near him was breathing evenly, her mouth partially open, soft sounds escaping in the night. “I’ll bet she’d be madder than a wet hen if I told her she snores,” he muttered to himself.

And decided that was one bit of information he’d do well to keep to himself.



“Coffee’s on.” It was the universal call of the chuck wagon, welcomed by all within the sound of Cookie’s voice. Jamie was no exception. He rolled from his place on the hard ground and made quick work of folding his bedroll, then placing it inside the wagon where he’d stowed his gear.

A head of golden hair, reflecting the sun’s earliest beams, lay almost completely covered by a blanket, and the owner was curled within the folds of the drab covering. “Alex. Time to get up,” Jamie said quietly. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Not hungry,” she muttered, pulling the corner of the blanket higher to better cover her head.

“You need to eat. Come on now.” Jamie walked to her, crouched beside her and tugged at the blanket. A pair of blinking eyes tried to focus on his face, and he laughed with a healthy sense of amusement he hadn’t felt in a long time. “You look like a baby owl,” he whispered, lest he be overheard by any nearby men.

“Thanks so much, sir,” she said, sitting up amid her rumpled blankets. “I’m sure I’m a sight to behold this morning.”

Jamie grinned wolfishly. “You have no idea, ma’am. No idea whatsoever. Let me just say that I wouldn’t mind seeing you every morning just this way.”

“Fat chance of that,” she snarled, her words angry, uttered in a voice that growled them aloud.

Jamie was entertained by her bad temper. He wanted to bend down to her, kiss her out of her bad mood and then tumble her back to the ground and hold her firmly in his embrace. And where had that thought come from?

It was morning, there was work to be done, men to be directed, horses to be saddled and calves to be roped. Hopefully today would finish up the job. They’d been at it for two days already, but it was getting to be cleanup time. Only a few of the calves and young bulls were still unbranded. In a rope corral, they awaited their turn with the branding iron or the clamp that would ensure their placid behavior over the next year, or until they were sold as steers on the market.

Alex rose stiffly, as if her muscles protested the hard ground, and then bent to retrieve her blankets, folding them quickly. She turned to Jamie, her bedroll over her arms before her, her eyes still blinking at the bright sunlight that assailed them from the eastern sky.

“I want you to be careful today,” Jamie said quietly. “You’re my responsibility, and I don’t care how many times you’ve helped with the branding, it’s still a dangerous place for a woman. Don’t get hurt, Alex, or your dad will have my neck in a noose.”

“You’re treating me like a child,” she told him.

“I know very well that you’re not a child, but I’m trying to make you see the effect you have on the men when you’re working with them. They’re all aware that you’re a woman, full grown, but they’ll keep an eye out for you, wanting to protect you from harm. I’ll tell you this just once. Don’t cause me any trouble or I’ll be after you quicker than you can say ‘scat.’”

Her eyes widened again as he spoke and then she looked aside. Hell, if he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d hurt her feelings.

“I know enough not to get in the way,” she said quietly, walking away toward the chuck wagon.

Jamie felt a moment’s pause, retracing his words and then her response to them. He’d been harsher than he’d intended. And above all, he wasn’t trying to frighten her. Only make her aware of her impact on these men.

On him, if the truth be known.



The men finished up their work by midafternoon, and with the satisfaction of a job well done, they packed up camp and headed back to the barn, a ride of two hours or better. The chuck wagon came last, Alexis riding with Cookie, her horse tied on behind.

Jamie could find no fault with her behavior today, he decided, riding just ahead of the chuck wagon. She’d been the soul of discretion, quiet and subdued, and he wondered if she were angry with him, with his long spiel this morning, when he’d effectively told her he would use his strength against her should she disobey him.

The thought shamed him. He’d never hit a woman in his life, never raised a hand against a female, no matter what the temptation. And he wasn’t about to begin now. Especially not with a woman he’d set his sights on. And that thought was enough to bring him to a halt. He’d just decided that marriage was not on his agenda, hadn’t he?

And now he was flirting with the idea of tying himself down with Alexis Powers. Somehow the loss of his bachelor freedom seemed not so tragic as it had a while ago.

Hell, he’d changed his mind almost overnight, letting the girl get under his skin, considering the lure of her slender body, her soft, plush mouth that tempted him mightily, and now he was thinking of the dreaded “M” word. Marriage.

And wouldn’t Connor laugh at him if he could see him now. Connor, his older brother, his idol in childhood days, his friend as an adult. Connor had found his true love almost ten years ago, and after the mess Jamie had caused, Connor had married her and shared two children with her.

And Jamie was still wandering the world, unattached and lonely. Maybe it was time to change things, he thought, the vision of Alex before him. And then she was at his left side, the chuck wagon pulled up even with his horse as he rode at a slow walk.

“Something wrong?” Cookie called, his voice a teasing drawl. “Your horse go lame? Or are you just loafin’ along?”

“Just thinking,” Jamie said quickly, his eyes not straying to the woman who sat only a few feet away from him. “I’ll move along a little faster.” With a nudge of his heels, the stallion broke into a trot and Jamie rode ahead. The horse had been champing at the bit for a half hour or so, and now with the reins loose in his rider’s hands, he took advantage of Jamie’s lax behavior and tossed his head, switching his tail and side-stepping a bit, as if he challenged his rider.

It was enough to bring him back to the present, and Jamie allowed the horse his head, leaning forward to urge the stallion on to greater speed. As if he knew his rider’s mind, the sleek ears twitched back, his breathing took on a deep, stentorian sound and he flew like the wind, past those who rode more placidly ahead of him, then across the landscape to where a line of trees proclaimed the presence of a stream of water.

Jamie welcomed the sight. Tired and dirty, he’d spent the past three days without a bath, with aching muscles and a case of lust gnawing at him. The shelter of willows was welcoming, and he drew his horse to a halt almost a mile from where the rest of the riders moved on toward the ranch house and barn. The water was clear, not deep, but certainly abundant enough to get himself clean.

With little hesitation, he tied his mount to a tree branch, then stripped off his clothing and waded into the streambed. Cold and clear, the water welcomed him, and he knelt in the deepest spot, splashing his body lavishly with the clean flow. He doused his head, bending to rub his scalp beneath the surface, then lifting his head and shaking the water from it, allowing it to fly where it would. He wiped his face with his wide palms, and bent to his knees, relishing the cool wash of the stream as it rushed past him, the water seeming clear enough to drink. He dipped his hands into it, scooped up a double handful and lifted it to his mouth.

“I’ve got a perfectly good canteen filled with well water I’d be willing to share with you.”

He shook his head again, certain he was hearing things, that his mind was playing tricks on him. And then he turned and looked into green eyes that mocked him, a laughing face that challenged him. She was sitting not far from the bank of the stream, knees lifted, her hands folded atop them, barely able to keep her mirth subdued.

He looked like a Greek god, Alexis thought, as he rose from the streambed, naked and shimmering in the light, the water sluicing off him as he stepped closer to the bank.

“Did anybody ever tell you that you were nothing but trouble?” he asked, and then his eyes narrowed as she faced him, unafraid. “What are you doing here?”

“Which shall I answer first?” she mused aloud. And then grinned. “I told Cookie I wanted to get on my mare for a while, and he accommodated me.” Her mouth seemed to be full of cotton, her breath nonexistent as she searched for words to speak in answer to his first query.

“As far as being ‘nothing but trouble,’ no, not really,” she said finally, hurting that he thought of her in that light, his scornful look making her feel small and insignificant before him. He’d walked from the water and stood just in front of her, unashamed of his nakedness, it seemed, and unwilling to turn aside from her scrutiny.

He was magnificent, black-haired, blue-eyed and, altogether, a giant of a man well over six feet tall. Not that he was built on bulky lines, but she’d noticed him, tall and tapered from shoulders to hips, long legged with taut thighs under denim pants that seemed to have been made for him. He was enough to make a woman’s mouth water, she’d thought, her mind a fog.

And now he had shed those trousers before he went into the stream and right before her eyes was the proof of his masculinity, bold and brazen, obviously ready for business.

“Why don’t you put your clothes on?” she asked, noting the uneven tenor of her voice.

“I was here first,” he told her. “I didn’t invite you to invade my bath. But since you have, you’ll have to take the consequences.”

She felt her heart pick up speed. Whatever he meant by that enigmatic statement was up for grabs. And she wasn’t about to ask any questions as to his meaning. Instead, she gathered up her things and rose. Now, as never before, she sensed his power, his strength, the force of his masculine being, and she rued her impetuous behavior.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted you. I’ll leave.”

He took her arm, not in a tight grip, but firmly enough so that she knew she could not escape him should she try. “Why don’t you stay, now that we’ve become better acquainted?” he asked.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said quickly.

He laughed and turned her to face him. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, well I suppose I do, but I don’t agree. The fact that I’ve seen you naked doesn’t make our acquaintance any more welcome to me.” She tried to look anywhere but at his body, but the brush of dark hair on his chest tempted her to touch the curls and weave her fingers through the lush length of silky fur he wore. It narrowed into a slender arrow, pointing downward, and she knew without looking just what lay in that direction.

“You’re blushing,” he said quietly. “Am I to assume you’ve never seen a naked man before?”

“You’d assume right,” she answered, with heat still rising in her face.

“Well, don’t let me hinder your first experience,” he said softly, his other hand moving to wrap long fingers around her shoulder, then drawing her closer.

“Don’t,” she said harshly. “I’ll get all wet.” Then she wondered if it might not be worth it to have his body against her own.

His laughter mocked her. “Does that matter? Don’t you want to know what sort of danger you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“You won’t hurt me,” she told him, looking up into blue eyes that were amused at her expense.

“Maybe not, but then again, they tell me that a woman’s first time is usually painful,” he said softly. His slow enunciation of words, the mellow tone of his voice lulled her a bit, but she rallied quickly. He was laying it on pretty thick, but unless she was mighty mistaken, he wouldn’t take any chance of her father chasing after him with a shotgun.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, wondering at the quiver in her voice.

“Aren’t you? Then why are you trembling?”

Her hands had rested against his chest and as she watched, her fingers fought to be still, her body shook as if it were chilled from a summer cold.

She felt her mouth twitch, knew a moment of despair then bent her head, knowing she owed him an apology, hoping it would appease him so that she might leave. “Please let me go, Jamie. I’m sorry I intruded. Just let me—”

Her words were cut off abruptly as he bent to her, one hand forcing her head erect, so that their eyes met. His mouth was hot, and open against hers, and his scent, that of a male who has seen his mate and intends to blend his body with hers, enveloped her.

How did she know? What inner sense allowed her to so easily judge the aroma of an aroused man? But, all her confusion aside, she knew she was in imminent danger, not only from the man who held her, but from herself. For she welcomed his kiss, leaned into his embrace as though it were the answer to her prayers, and now his questing male member was making its intention known against her belly.

Fear of the unknown sped down the length of her spine, and she leaned away from him. “Don’t do this to me. Please,” she whispered. And felt, to her amazement, his hands fall from her as he stepped back, offering her the freedom she’d begged for.

“Go on. Catch up with the chuck wagon. I’ll be right behind you, Alex.”

Without a second thought, she darted away, running to where her horse was tied and mounted quickly. The mare ran like lightning, as if she’d been set free to do as she pleased, and Alexis clung to her like a burr, unable to sit upright, content to hold on with tenuous strength to the dark mane, ignoring the reins that dangled.

Behind her, she heard his shout. “Alex. Get ahold of those reins and slow that horse down before you get dumped.” And then his words were lost on the wind that blew past her ears. Smart enough to heed his warning, she soothed the mare, reaching low for the reins, forcing herself to sit erect in the saddle, gaining control over the madcap fashion in which she’d allowed the animal to behave.

The mare snorted, shivered and tossed her head, unwilling to comply with Alexis’s command, but trained well enough to obey the reins that held her down to a canter, and finally to a walk.

She felt his presence right behind her, and she touched the mare’s barrel with her heels, urging her into a faster pace. Ahead of her was the sanctuary of the cook wagon, where she would be safe from the man who followed her. For all his audacity, he would not infringe on her now, but she felt the need of a buffer, and Cookie would serve well.

Pulling her mare down to a trot beside his perch on the high seat of the chuck wagon, she signaled to Cookie and he drew the vehicle to a crawl. With the skill of a woman used to horses and the ways of a ranch, she brought her right leg over the saddle and stepped up on the wagon. The reins in her hand were easily tied to the seat and her mare trotted alongside without a hitch.

“Well, you sure haven’t forgotten how to do that,” Cookie said, grinning a gap-toothed smile in her direction.

“I grew up here,” Alex said. “I can do most anything the men can do on this ranch.”

“Well, I’d say you were a sight better at blindsiding that new foreman than anyone else on the place.” He laughed as if he’d observed the shenanigans by the streambed. “I saw you chasing off after him, Alex. You want to watch your step with that one. He’s a sharp fella, and he’ll give you a run for your money.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” she said scornfully.

“No,” he said slowly, “I don’t expect you are. But you’d better respect him. He’s no fool and he’s not about to put up with your teasing him.”

“I didn’t tease him,” she said, disgruntled at his words.

“No, of course you didn’t. And the sun didn’t rise this morning, either. Just watch yourself, honey. Your pa don’t need to be running after that man with a shotgun, but I think he’d do just that very thing if you make the wrong move. I wouldn’t push the fella too far, is what I’m trying to say.”

“I’m old enough to take care of myself, Cookie,” she said sharply. Her old friend saw too much, was too wise to ignore what he saw and didn’t mind expressing his opinion.

“Yep. I’ve heard that story before, Alexis. Just mind your step now. Let’s not have a full-scale war on our hands, with your pa mad as a bull chasin’ a red flag.”




Chapter Three


“What went on out there?” Hank asked, his eyes sharp as they scanned Jamie’s face, catching him right after breakfast when Alexis had taken her leave.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” And yet he was pretty clear on the gossip the men had carried to Hank this morning. Jamie had been the focus of bad jokes and sidelong glances from the men, and he’d be a fool if he didn’t recognize that they were wondering what had gone on, what had brought the chuck wagon and its occupants, and the lone rider that followed, back to the barn more than an hour later than was expected.

“You know damn well what I’m asking you,” Hank said. “The men said they saw you riding off toward the stream and when Slim looked back, Alexis was riding hell-bent for leather after you. You were late getting back to the barn, and Cookie’s not talking. So I’m asking you. Did you spend time alone with my girl?”

“Why don’t you ask her? She was the one who followed me, not the other way around.” He took a deep breath and met Hank’s dark gaze. “Yeah, I spent a few minutes alone with her, but she’s just as pure and virtuous as she was when she rode out to the north forty. I made her unroll her blanket near me the night she spent out there, so I could keep an eye on her, and we talked. Of course, there were half a dozen men within hearing distance, and I smelled like a horse and cow patties, so I doubt I was very appealing to a woman of her caliber. I’d suggest again that you ask her.”

“I did.” Hank gritted his teeth and then grinned. “She’s a scamp, James. Loves to lead men around by the nose, and I think she sees you as a challenge. I want to know why she followed you to the stream.”

“I can’t answer for her, and I won’t try,” Jamie said flatly. “But I’m smart enough to keep myself in the clear, Hank. I’m not looking to have you pointing a gun my way. I’m not messing with your girl. At least I’m not trying to get into her bed. I think a woman like Alex is better suited to marriage than a quick roll in the hay.”

“Well, that’s about as blunt as you can get. You got plans to marry the girl?”

“That’s not what I said. I’m not sure she’d go along with the idea anyway.” Jamie dropped to the top step and leaned against the corner post of the porch roof.

“Maybe I’ll ask her what she thinks of the idea,” Hank said with a measuring look. “You ready to settle down yet, Webster?”

“I’ve got a job to do here. I’m not about to get tangled up with a woman, no matter how appealing she is. Ask me that question again in a couple of years.”

“Hey, boss. What do you want done with those yearlings?” Woody approached the porch and posed his query in James’s direction.

“I’ll be right out. I’d say we ought to put them in the far pasture, keep them separated from the others while we work with them.”

“What are your plans?” Hank asked, his interest aroused by James’s words.

“Nothing unusual. Just getting them used to a bit and bridle. Leading them around in circles and letting them know what a human can do for them.” He rose from the steps and turned to face Hank.

“I found out that horses, especially young ones, are a lot like women. They need a bit of pampering, a lot of coaxing and a steady hand on the bit. It takes several months to turn a yearling into an animal that has learned how to respond to his owner, or trainer. But, the lessons are worth the time it takes. I’d like to use Alexis to help with the job, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Hank said expansively. “It’ll be good for her to have the responsibility, and she loves those babies out there anyway. Are you going to ask her about it, or shall I?”

“I will, soon as I get a chance,” James said. He set off after Woody, his mind was already racing ahead to the dozen or so yearlings that awaited him and to weighing the difficulties inherent in this whole plan.

To be asked by the foreman to be in the thick of a training regime, she would recognize that there would be problems with jealousy, with those who had done this task in other years. But James had already decided the final result of using the girl for his program would be worth the risk he took.

Not that he feared the men causing an overt problem, but his own interest in her was the challenge. Being with her on a daily basis would be hard on his patience. The urge to be alone with her, to touch her, was growing by the day.

Hell, by the minute. Working closely with her would be a mixed blessing, he thought as he left Woody and headed to the barn. It would lighten the workload when it came to the training sessions, and at the same time cause him a lot of trouble. Just keeping his hands to himself was problem enough.

She tempted him, as no other woman had. Not even those back in his early days when he was trying his wings. “I was a genuine scalawag,” he murmured to himself.

“Who says so?” From behind him, Alex had spoken and he stiffened, halting the movement of his hands, currycomb held upright.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, even as his heart began a rapid pace.

“Dad said you wanted to talk to me.” Lifting limpid eyes to his, her smile one of a cat set on mischief, she waited.

“I did. I do,” he said, and then turned from her. He could think better when she wasn’t right in front of him.

She tapped his shoulder. “Jamie, are you mad at me? Or is this a bad time for me to talk to you?”

“Neither,” he said. “Wait till I finish with this horse.”

She moved from behind him, and as if his hearing had grown more sensitive, he heard her progress as she walked to where a bench had been built against the wall. Distinctly, he heard the sound of wood shifting as she sat, knew the sound of her boots on the dirt behind him and with an added sense of smell, caught a whiff of the soap she used.

Damn, the woman was going to drive him crazy. His hands worked automatically as he cleaned his horse, but he cut short the process, working quickly on the stud’s mane and then turning him loose in the corral.

Looking back down the long aisle, he felt the heat of her gaze touch him, wished for a moment that the sunshine would light the interior of the barn, the better to see the young woman who waited for him. And then he stalked back to where she sat, stopping in front of her, hands on hips, as if he were fitting this conversation into a tight schedule, and she was but a minor detail on his agenda.

“I’d like to offer you a job,” he said briefly. “I spoke to your father and he said to ask you about it.”

She tilted her head back, the better to see his face. “If you’d sit down next to me, it might work better, boss. What’s your problem?”

He spoke without thinking, his voice harsh. “You, Miss Alexis. You’re my problem.”

“What have I done?” She sounded truly perplexed and he frowned.

“You’re a part of this ranch, and I’ll have to work closely with you if we go ahead with this project. The whole problem is, I have a powerful urge to pick you up and take you to the hayloft and spend a couple of hours with you, finding out—”

She held up a hand to halt his words. “That’s enough, I think.”

He watched as her throat moved, knew she swallowed with difficulty and felt a moment of triumph as he realized he’d shocked her. Maybe given her food for thought. And yet, he’d need to watch his step, lest Hank come after him.

He sat down next to Alexis then, their thighs almost touching, the warmth of her body reaching for him like the sunshine on a summer day. “All right,” he said. “Let’s start over.” He cleared his throat and consciously kept his eyes forward. “I’d like you to work with the yearlings, follow a program I’ve set up for their training. Three or four hours a day should do it.”

She was silent and he allowed himself to toss her a sidelong glance. Maybe she wasn’t interested, or perhaps she didn’t want to work alongside him.

The look of rapt attention she shot his way changed his mind. “You’re kidding. You want me to work with the yearlings? You’ll really let me have a hand in training them?”

“If you want to,” he answered, aware now that it was an idea that appealed to her. Maybe even enough so as to put herself in his vicinity daily, giving him jurisdiction over her movements for the morning hours.

“If I want to?” She sighed the words. “I’ve already told you, early on, how I feel about spending time with the young horses. It’s only a dream job come to life, Jamie. I love those yearlings. Working with them would be a pleasure.”

“How about working with me?” he asked. “Does that qualify as a pleasure?”

She eyed him soberly. “I think that all depends on you. Can you keep your hands to yourself?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I think so. At least I’ll try.”

“You don’t sound very sure of that, mister. And I’m not in the market for any hanky-panky with the foreman.”

“I don’t go in for hanky-panky. If I set my sights on you, it won’t be for fun. But don’t worry, sweetheart. When the time comes, you’ll know it, up front. I don’t play games when I’m dead serious, and I have a notion you’d require a little more attention than a new job or a horse I’d like to own.”

Alexis’s eyes flashed fire at him. “I’m not sure I like being compared to a horse.”

She’d picked apart his statement. He might have known she would. And his natural good humor came to the forefront. “You need a firm hand, just like a frisky mare, sweetheart, but other than that, I can’t see that you resemble a horse. Except that you’re long-legged and slim, and you move with a sort of elegance.”

As if he’d spoken words that were unplanned, he rose and looked toward the bench where she still sat. “Now, I suspect you’ll think I’ve called you a mare, instead of a woman,” he said, his smile aimed in her direction.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure what I think. I’m still trying to digest the ‘elegance’ remark. No one’s ever called me elegant before. I think I kinda like it.”

“Yeah,” he said, the word drawled slowly, as if it stuck to his tongue. “I like it, too, ma’am. I surely do.”

The silhouette of a man filled the back door as Hank Powers strode across the threshold. “What’s going on?” he asked heartily.

“I just got a new job,” Alexis answered. “The foreman wants me to help him work with the yearlings. Is that all right with you, Dad?”

“He’s the boss,” Hank said. “And if you want the job, it looks to me like it’s yours, Alex.”

She stood quickly and went to where he stood, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Dad. You know this is something I’d really like to do.” She paused and her voice dropped to a lower tone. “Did you have anything to do with it?” she asked, as if she were suddenly suspicious.

Hank shook his head. “Nope. Jamie told me he wanted you and asked if I objected. I told him to ask you himself.” He curled one arm around his daughter’s waist. “I’m glad he did, since it seems to make you happy.” His gaze swept to James. “Just don’t let her try to do anything she’s not capable of. Though I don’t know what that would be. My girl is pretty well-equipped to handle herself around here. So long as the work isn’t too heavy for her, I’ll rest easy.”

“My main concern is keeping her away from anyone who might give her a hard time, given her tendency to flirt a bit,” James said. “A couple of your men are pretty set on courting her, you know.”

“She can handle that,” Hank said quickly. “At least, she has, so far. The men know she’s only friendly, not flirting with them.”

James shrugged. “Whatever you say. I’ll keep an eye out, anyway.” He looked at Alexis, whose smile was brilliant, now that the training had been approved officially. “You ready to start?” he asked.

“Whenever you say, boss.” She almost shivered with anticipation, he thought.

“Now’s as good a time as any.” He motioned toward the back barn door and she followed his silent order, leaving her father with another brief kiss on his cheek in farewell. James watched as she walked ahead of him, and felt Hank’s gaze as if it were a hot branding iron. With a sudden movement, he turned to face the man.

“You got a problem with me, Hank?”

As if he swallowed his objections, Hank was silent for a moment, then shook his head. “I always worry about my girl, Jamie. She’s all I’ve got left in this world that really means anything to me. Just don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving women a hard time,” James returned sharply. “I won’t be making an exception where Alexis is concerned.”

Hank’s face grew stern. “Just consider yourself warned,” he said harshly. “She’s got a soft spot for you.”

James couldn’t have stopped the grin that twisted his lips any more than he could have halted a runaway train. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he said, forcing a sober expression to rest on his face, hiding the last semblance of his smile. With long strides, he followed Alexis, who had already crossed the corral and opened the gate into the pasture.

“Wait for me,” he called, and was rewarded by her quick wave as she passed through the opening, holding the gate for his approach.

“I wasn’t going anywhere without you,” she told him, tilting her head to one side as he neared. “What was my father saying to you?”

“Just warning me about hurting you. I think he’s afraid I have ideas about you.”

“What sort of ideas? I’m sure not afraid of you.” She sounded exasperated, he thought, and looked even more so. “He tries to make me into a shrinking violet, Jamie. I’m a woman, capable of making my own choices, and he won’t get that through his head.”

James grinned down at her as they walked farther into the pasture, heading for half a dozen yearlings standing beneath a tree. “Don’t fault him for being protective, Alex. I’d be even worse if you were my daughter. And trust me, I’m very happy that you’re not. I’ll admit my feelings toward you are not fatherly.” He sobered as he watched her expression turn watchful.

“I’ll repeat it, Alexis. I was a scalawag. There was no other word for me, and I suspect your father recognizes that.”

She smiled then, as if she thought he was joking with her, and then laughed aloud, the sound of her amusement ringing like the wind chimes on the back porch. He didn’t attempt to hide his reaction, his arm reaching to rest across her shoulders as he drew her to a halt next to him, his action restrained, resisting the temptation she offered.

“Chet tells me you’re very good with the horses, and I’ll admit I’ve noticed myself that you seem to have a special touch. But I don’t know what your experience is, and I’ve got some set ideas of my own. I don’t want to go any closer,” he explained. “I’m gonna rope that black colt on the right, and he’ll spook if we sneak up on him.”

“All right,” she said softly, watching as he uncoiled his lariat and let it lie in a circle at his feet. With a quick motion he had it spinning, and in another moment it was sailing through the air, only to settle gently over the head of the colt in question. The horse jerked against the rope and James held it fast, drawing the animal toward him slowly.

At the same time he walked forward, Alexis close by his side, and his voice took on a crooning quality as he talked to the graceful, black creature he wooed. “You’re a beautiful piece of horseflesh, boy. Just come on over here and I’ll scratch your ears for you.”

“You’re very good at this,” Alexis murmured quietly as the colt eyed the pair of them and then, as if drawn by an invisible cord, walked haltingly toward them.

James reached out his hand, letting the horse smell his palm, then turned it to rub with affection beneath the horse’s chin. His fingernails scratched gently there and then traveled up to a spot between the colt’s ears. His voice spoke soft words of encouragement as he stroked the dark head, a never-ceasing river of sounds that seemed to quiet the animal, putting him into a sort of trance.

It worked every time, James thought triumphantly. Gaining the animal’s trust was the most important part of the whole procedure, and letting him know you wouldn’t harm him was a big part of it. The old theory of the rider being the master was harsh and often damaged a young horse beyond repair.

James thought of his father, how the man had treated his animals. A better teacher could not have been found, he decided, recalling his early days when his father had instructed him in the care of his livestock. The same rules applied to any creature. Kindness went a long way to forming a good relationship.

His glance fell on the woman at his side. Maybe that was the secret with women, too.

Alexis reached slowly for the colt, her hand rubbing his neck, her head beside his, her words soft, luring him closer. And he obliged, leaning into her a bit, then tossing his head and snuffling at her shoulder, as if he imprinted her scent in his memory. She laughed, tossing her head in a like motion, her long hair flying, only to settle in a pale cloud over her shoulders again.

She was a beauty, James thought. Her face was animated with pleasure and her body almost vibrating with the joy of handling the colt. He gave her the end of his lariat and motioned with his hand that she should lead the colt in a circle.

Without hesitation, she obeyed, allowing only a short bit of rope between herself and the horse. And then, as if she had watched him work the same procedure, she let the rope slip through her fingers a bit, until a greater length separated her from the animal she led, till the colt was circling her at her silent command, prancing around her, tossing his head and kicking up his heels as if he would ignore the fact that he was connected to her by a rope.

“Pick up your speed,” Jamie said, his voice a low undertone, but audible to her.

She drew the colt in closer and increased his tempo by pacing him herself, tugging the rope to urge him into a trot. He obeyed and she called out to him, encouraging him as his hooves scattered small bits of pebbles and grass behind him.

James was struck with the woman’s skill and her beauty, the quick movements of her hands and the way she’d so readily taken to the colt. Between the two of them, they presented a picture of graceful movement he could only admire. And then, as if he felt warmed by another’s gaze, James looked back at the barn.

Hank stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips and pride on his features. With a grin, he sent James a silent salute, and then turned to go back in the barn, leaving the two to their privacy.

“You have a name for this one yet?” James asked quietly.

Alexis looked surprised as she glanced his way, and then her attention returned to the colt, as if she were embarrassed. “Who told you about that?”

“Your father. He said you can’t help but name every living thing on the ranch. In fact, he said they’ve used the names you’ve chosen more often than not.”

She rubbed her forehead against the colt’s jaw. “He’s Black Thunder, out of Black Lightning. And don’t you dare laugh at me. Naming the animals is something I like to do.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” James said soberly, although his heart sang with the pleasure this woman brought to his days. “Black Thunder sounds like a name suitable for a colt who’s going to make a name for himself one of these days.”

“His formation? Or his disposition?” she asked, drawing up the lead line and walking to where James stood, the horse at her shoulder.

“Both. He’ll breed true, I’ll warrant. He’s built like a champion, and if he keeps that sweet temper of his on a leash, he’ll make a good addition to the ranch’s breeding program. Nothing worse than a mean stud on the place. They’re hell to breed. The mares don’t like them.”

“Mean is a nasty word, no matter who it’s applied to,” Alex said sharply. “That goes for men as well as animals.”

“You sound like you’ve been acquainted with a few.” And if she had, what would he do about it?

“I’ve seen a few in action,” she admitted quietly. “Had a couple of bruises in my time.”

“What did your father do about that?”

She shot him a look of defiance. “Nothing. I didn’t tell him about it. I told you already, I can take care of myself.”

“Who?” he asked harshly. And was rewarded by a look of surprise.

“No one you know,” she said, ending the conversation neatly.

“If anyone on the ranch—”

“No one here would give me a bad time,” she said, interrupting his threat. “Now forget it, Jamie. It’s not worth talking about.”

“It is when your safety is involved. I won’t have you molested by anyone.”

“Not even you?” Her grin was quick, her eyes flashing a challenge.

“Not even me. I’ll never molest you, Alex. I might coax you a little, even try a bit of seduction, but I’ll never cause you pain.”

“You’ll never leave bruises?” she asked innocently.

“I didn’t say that,” he told her. “Sometimes a little—” He halted suddenly, thinking better of what he’d almost said. “Never mind. Forget I suggested such a thing.”

She looked curious. “I think I’d like to hear about it one day. Don’t forget where we were when I ask you to continue with this.”

“I think you’d better let that colt off the lariat and let me rope you another student, ma’am,” he told her. “You’re about to get in over your head.”

“I’m almost twenty years old, Jamie. Don’t treat me like a child.”

“I don’t intend to,” he said. “But I’m almost thirty, so just don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

He thought she smiled as she turned away, loosening the lariat to take it off the colt’s neck. She handed it back to him, watched the colt as he kicked his heels as if he celebrated his freedom, and then raced away across the pasture.

The rope settled over the head of a dark-legged filly, a true blood bay, and with a series of soft entreaties and a steady hand on his rope, he coaxed her closer, walking toward the filly as he spent his litany of praise on her. She sniffed at his hand, apparently judged him acceptable, and followed him to where Alexis stood waiting.

“She’s a beauty,” he told the woman who had eyes only for the filly. “I don’t think she’ll give you any trouble. She seems eager to please if you handle her right.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, tossing him a look of scorn, as if his words had cast doubt on her skills. “This is more fun than work, anyway,” she told him, her face glowing. She tossed her head as she walked with the filly to an open spot, away from the trees and the man who stood beneath their branches.

The ritual of training he’d instigated with the colt was repeated, and in twenty minutes time, Alexis brought the prancing animal to him, her smile one of triumph as she awaited his response to her silent challenge.

“You catch on quick, ma’am. Sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked her. “Got a name for this one?”

“Of course I’ve done this before,” she answered quickly. “But I just called it playing with the horses, teaching them what they need to know. Then finally getting them used to a saddle and having weight on their back. Dad says I’m better than most men he’s seen working with the three-year-olds. And as to naming them, it doesn’t take long to size up an animal, see beyond their physical attributes to what’s inside.” She reached beneath the filly’s head, her arm almost circling the graceful neck. “This one is Pretty Girl. She knows she’s pretty, and she carries herself like a woman with confidence.”

“Well,” James said softly. “You’ve sized her up right well, ma’am. Pretty Girl it is. I’ll tell your father this afternoon.” He watched as she released the filly from the rope and gave the cavorting yearling a final rub between her ears.

They worked with the other four horses in the next hour or so, and James sorted out the names she had decided on for each of them in his mind. She was uncanny, he decided, finding an element in each animal that was reflected in the name she chose for it. No wonder Hank had said she was gifted at the skill of pronouncing the right name for each horse on the place.

The largest of the group was a tall colt, a chestnut giant who was almost guaranteed to be a fine stud one day. He’d given Alexis a bit of trouble, daring her with his greater strength to keep him under control, and she’d faced up to him without hesitation, speaking sharply when he would have protested her hands on him, drawing him in when he would have had his own way.

“What are we going to call this fella?” James asked as they watched the gleaming colt race across the pasture, once the rope was taken from his neck.

“Red Mick,” she said without hesitation.

“Now, I wouldn’t have called him that,” James said, wondering at her choice.

“He’s red, for one thing.”

James nodded his agreement.

“And he’s full of himself. Reminds me of a man I once knew.”

“Well, I can’t argue that one,” James said. “Doesn’t sound like you thought much of the man.”

“Not much. He’d probably have made a good gelding, if I’d had my way. The man thought he was a real lady killer…but I didn’t.”

James laughed, loudly and long. The woman was priceless. “He must have really given you a hard time, sweetheart.”

“Not as bad a time as I gave him. He thought he could put his hands on me and I fought him. He had an aching crotch for a while, and Dad fired him without asking me any questions. He knew we’d been out by the pasture fence the night before and when he saw Mick in the morning, limping and unwilling to get in his saddle, he figured things out real quick. I’ll give Mick credit. He didn’t argue, not for a minute. I think he figured he’d gotten off easy.”

“Sounds like he did,” James said, thinking what his reaction would have been, had he been in Hank’s shoes that day.

“He also sent three men after him, just to be certain Mick left the county,” she said, shooting James a look that spoke of knowledge better left unsaid.

“I’ll bet he wasn’t a pretty sight when he hit the other side of town,” James said. “I suspect your daddy was madder than a hornet. The man ever show up here again?”

She shook her head. “That was almost two years ago. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.”

“If you ever do, I want to know about it,” James told her, his words harsh and commanding. “Some men learn the hard way, sweetheart. I don’t want to take any chances with your safety.”

She watched as he rolled his lariat up into a loop and held it at his side. “Am I safe with you, Jamie?” As if her own words embarrassed her, she refused to meet his gaze, her cheeks flushed, her mouth looking soft and vulnerable.

“As safe as you want to be, Alexis,” he answered. “You won’t have to aim any low blows at me.”

They walked together back to the barn, and then turned as one for a last look at the yearlings who’d taken up residence under the trees. Their heads were bent to the ground, their tails swished lazily as they brushed flies away, and one of the young colts picked up his head and looked their way, as if he challenged their vigilance.

“He’s telling you he has things under control out there,” Alexis said with a laugh. “That’s Red Mick, the leader of the whole bunch, whether they like it or not.”

“The fillies don’t seem to mind,” James observed, as one of the dark, graceful animals touched noses with the young stud they discussed.

“They’re foolish creatures, not even suspecting what’s ahead for them. When they’re all tied up waiting for his attention in a couple of years, they’ll not be so docile.”

“That’s a female for you,” James teased. “Always ready to give a man a hard time.”

They turned from the door and walked down the aisle to the tack room, where James hung his lariat and stripped off his gloves. Dropping them on the small area he used for minor paperwork, he turned to Alexis, who had followed him through the door, into the small room.

“You’re in trouble, coming in here with me,” he said quietly.

“Am I?” She faced him without a trace of fear, only anticipation lighting her eyes.

“You know what you’re doing?” he asked.

“Do you?” And then she smiled. “Yeah, I’d say you probably do, James Webster.”

Gripping her arm lightly, he bent to her, drawing her close, melding her soft curves against his own muscular length. She was amenable to his touch, fitting her body to his without hesitation, moving a bit as if she would mold herself closer.

“Watch out, sweetheart. Too much wiggling will get you in trouble,” he warned her, his voice low and husky.

“Show me,” she murmured, lifting her face to his, inviting his kiss.

He obliged her, taking his time as he covered her lips with his, brushing the soft pliant flesh and then begging entry with coaxing probes of his tongue. She obliged, a sense of surprise apparent, and he hesitated, as if he would not take advantage of her. And then she sighed and he lost his better judgment, finding her sweet and inviting, seeking out the hidden places that formed her mouth.

His kiss was long, heated and damp, and he feared he had frightened her with the intensity of his desire. But apparently not so, for she clung to him, her arms encircling his neck, her face tucked into the bend of his shoulder, as if she invited his caresses.

His mouth touched her cheek, her closed eyelids and the line of her brow where small curls formed and the heat of the day brought a faint line of perspiration to dwell. She smelled of hay and horse, an aroma not unpleasant to him. Yet, beneath her skin was the scent of woman, that elusive, faint essence of female allure that drew men to their fate.

And he was no different than any other man, he decided. Alexis was exactly what he’d traveled so many miles to find. Courting her was the next step. Convincing her father of his worth would be a task James would have to work at, if he ever planned to win the woman he held in his arms.

“Jamie?” She tipped her head back and eyed him quizzically. “What are you thinking about? Your forehead is all wrinkled and you look like something has you all riled up.”

“Just you,” he said, allowing a smile to take residence on his lips. “I’m trying to behave myself. How did you say it? Keep my hands to myself. You make it pretty hard, ma’am.” And then he laughed aloud as he recognized the truth of his statement, and drew back from her lest she be frightened or insulted by the blatant nudge of his manhood against her.

“You don’t frighten me,” she said boldly. “And I kinda like your hands right where they are, Jamie.”

He felt the line of her back beneath his fingertips, the flaring of her hips, the narrowing of her waist, and as he slid his palms upward, knew the fullness of her breasts against his chest as he measured her width, his fingertips touching at the center of her back.

She was silent, unmoving, as if any bit of protest from her might halt his meandering. And so it might. For he was in uncharted territory here, he realized.

His hands slipped to her ribs, then forward just a bit, cradling the weight of her breasts against his thumbs. It was all he could do not to clasp the softness, but he thought better of it, and wisely left it for another time. For there would be another time.

Of that he was certain.




Chapter Four


Bringing trouble down on himself was not Jamie’s intent, and so he’d backed off in his pursuit of Alexis over the following two months. She was a joy to watch, a natural. Her patience with the yearlings was beyond what James had hoped for. She pampered them, coaxed them through their paces and treated them as if they were her children, petting, hugging and talking to them in an almost nonstop litany of praise as they performed to her commands.

She was a born horsewoman, with an innate sense of rightness when it came to dealing with her charges, no matter their moods or behavior. He gladly gave Alexis her due as their trainer. She’d accepted his program without argument, had gone along with his ideas and was the talk of the ranch hands. If they secretly admired James’s control over her, they did not let it be known. If they were jealous of his long hours in her company, they kept it secret. And yet, he was the subject of pointed looks from the men who worked for him, but who still took his orders without question.

If Hank suspected there was anything going on in the training sessions that was directly opposed to his daughter’s care and safety, he kept it to himself, only questioning James about the success of the yearlings’ training. To Hank, James was openly willing to praise Alexis for her work.

And work she did. For several hours each day, she did as James instructed her, brushing, currying and in all ways tending the yearlings. They came to know her well, recognizing her scent as she approached the pasture, running with coltish grace to where she awaited them, always with a carrot or bit of apple for each of them.

And they performed well for her, gave her what she demanded of them, and were soon ready to go on to the next phase of their training. Alexis was light, probably not weighing much more than a hundred pounds, James figured. She was not tall, but petite and slender, agile and quick in her movements.

She leaned against the horses, bent low to stroke their bellies, picked up their feet, one after another, preparing them for the handling they would receive as mature animals. They had to learn to accept being shod in another year or so. Men would brush them, lead them, handle them, expect much of them in the future. It was Alexis’s job to see to it that they were not shy around others, that they would accept another’s hands on them.

She possessed a rare sense of communication with the animals, and with that in mind, he thought to utilize her in his work with the three-year-olds.

“Would you like to give me a hand, Alex?” he asked her. They were at the breakfast table, a meal cooked and served by the cook, a buxom lady named Ellen, brought out from town to fill the job Alexis no longer had the time nor inclination to do.

“Doing what?” she asked, buttering her toast and then reaching for the jam jar.

“Getting the three-year-olds used to a saddle and rider.”

Hank spoke up quickly. “I don’t want my girl dumped by an ornery horse. That’s a man’s job.”

Darting a warning look at Alexis, James grinned at Hank. “Don’t you think Alex can do as well as any of the men on the place?”

“In some ways,” Hank allowed, eyeing Alexis warily, as if he recognized that his quick refusal had caused her to bristle.

He was right. She was stewing quietly, but her temper was close to the boiling point as she listened to the two men discussing her. Jamie had given her more responsibility than she’d expected, allowing her a free hand with the yearlings for almost two months. With a mental pat on the back, she judged she had done a job that no one could find fault with.

The ranch was the proud possessor of a dozen or so yearlings, all easily handled, all trained to walk, trot and lope at the end of a rope, on command. They carried a blanket and sometimes a twenty-five pound weight on their backs, and would become accustomed to that before the poundage was increased.

“Why don’t I have the chance to answer your question, Jamie?” she asked, as the conversation came to a halt.

“You can say whatever you like, so far as I’m concerned,” he told her.

“You’re a woman, Alexis,” her father reminded her. “You can’t be expected to do a man’s work.”

“And who says that only men can train horses? I think I’ve done all right so far. I’d like to have a chance at the three-yearolds. If Jamie thinks I can handle it, that’s good enough for me.”

“Have you been coaxing him into asking about this?” her father asked roughly.

“I’m not underhanded,” she told him, her anger coming to the forefront. “If I want something, I can approach you without Jamie’s permission. So to answer your question, no, I’ve not been coaxing him into anything.”

She looked at the man across the table, whose handsome features were partially buried in his hand, as if he hid a smile from her view.

Hank blustered a bit. “The first time you get tossed off a horse, you’re done, Alex,” he said. “I won’t have you killed just to prove a point.”

She aimed a questioning look at him. “And what point is that?”

“You know what I’m saying. Jamie and I agree that you have a natural ability, you’re a born trainer. You have a gift not given to many people in this world, a natural affinity for horses. But you can’t win them all. There’s bound to be a horse that won’t respond to you, and that one could kill you. You don’t have the physical strength to handle a determined stud.”

“At least give me a chance, Dad. I won’t do anything Jamie thinks isn’t safe. Will that make you feel better?”

“So long as you don’t try to persuade him otherwise,” Hank told her firmly.

“She won’t get around me,” James said, and Alexis ducked her head, hiding the look of triumph she felt washing over her countenance.

Assuming an affable smile, she faced her father again. “He’s tough, Dad. If he makes a statement, you can bet he’ll do as he says.”

Hank shot her a level look, his brow furrowed in a frown. “I know you too well, Alexis. You can be mighty persuasive when you want to.”

James looked her way, an imperceptible twist of his head warning her to desist before she said too much, and then spoke forthrightly in Hank’s direction. “She won’t put me in a bind, sir. I know her tricks.”

Alex fought the rush of heat that appeared at his words. “I haven’t any bag of tricks, Jamie. I play fair. I’d think you’d know that by now.”

“You’re a woman,” he said, as if that were the final word on the subject. And to add emphasis to his statement, he rose from the table and picked up his cup, swallowing the last of his coffee. “I’ll go by whatever you decide, Hank. Let me know.”

“Don’t go yet,” Hank said quickly. “I’m willing to give it a chance. Just keep an eye out.”

“I won’t expect too much from her,” James told him, and then motioned at Alex. “Let’s go, ma’am. We’ve got work to do.”

With mixed emotions, Alexis followed him out the door, waving at her father as she crossed the threshold, forming her lips into a quick “thank you” in his direction. Stepping double-time, she caught up with James and strode beside him. This man was very good at irritating her, his lifted eyebrow speaking volumes. And then his single word verified her thoughts.

“Satisfied?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Not quite, but almost,” she said, lifting her chin in a gesture of defiance. “Once I get on top of one of those beauties, I’ll be happy.”

“Don’t push it,” James said gruffly.

“I won’t. Just know that you’re going to have the best trained bunch of horses in the county. I’ll ride them all before I’m done.”

“Pride goeth—”

“I know the rest of it,” she said sharply. “And it isn’t pride that drives me. I know what I can do, and so do you, or you wouldn’t have pushed my father for this.”

James grinned at her, a sudden switch of mood that threw her off balance. “All right, sweetheart. Strut your stuff. We’ll start with the pinto mare. She’s not as big as some of the others.”

It was a long day. They broke for dinner at noon and then went back to the corral, where several of the hands happened to meander past, their eyes watchful as Alexis grew familiar with each horse she handled.

“Who’s been in charge of these?” James asked. “Who worked with them before I got here?”

“Slim, mostly,” Alexis told him. “He’s about the best on the place.”

James shook his head, a silent rebuttal of her words. “No, sweetheart. That’s where you’re wrong. You’re the best on the place.”

Her heart soared with the words of praise. So easily he could brush aside her barriers and set her heart beating double-time. Between his Irish blue eyes and the shock of black hair that begged for her touch, he was a man she was finding it hard to resist. In fact, she wondered some days and nights why she bothered. She was past the age of girlhood, she was a mature woman, and if she chose to know James Webster on a deeper level, it was no one’s business but her own. But not for the world would she let him know how readily he affected her.

He paused beside her and touched her elbow, his gaze seeming to look past the facade of nonchalance she offered. “I’m going to turn you into the top trainer in the county,” he told her. “And it won’t take much on my part to do it. You’re already well on your way, Alex.”



“Got a charley-horse?” James asked. Breakfast was a thing of the past, and he’d waited impatiently for Alexis to join him. Now he watched her walk toward him across the yard, and when she neared, he shot her a quick grin. “I’ll bet it kept you up last night, didn’t it?”

“Does it show?” Alexis walked as if she had a decided cramp in her calf, and he could almost envision himself scooping her up from the ground if it should give way beneath her.

“You betcha it shows,” he said with a chuckle. “I noticed when you came down for breakfast that you were favoring it. Kinda goes with the territory, sweetheart. Come on in the barn and I’ll massage it for you.”

She lifted a brow and hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, boss.”

“Strictly a professional gesture,” he told her, motioning to the door of the tack room. She entered, James behind her, and when she sat on a chair, he squatted in front of her. His hands worked her boot off and then slid up her calf, his fingers seeking out the muscle that had tightened even more when she sat down.

“While you keep walking on it, it’ll behave. But sit down and it tightens up and pulls from your heel. Nasty business.” His fingers were digging deeply into the clenched muscle, working out the knot, even as he kept an eye on her face.

She winced, jerked once as he touched on the core of the spasm and he muttered a quick word of apology. Unless he missed his guess, she was struggling against tears, and the thought of her pain made him angry.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “You don’t have to work so hard at this, you know.”

“I don’t work any harder than you do. I don’t expect to be pampered. I’m here to do a job. And if I can’t do it well, you’ll have Slim all over you like greased lightning. He’s got a short nose as it is, what with my doing the job he’s thought of as his for a long time.”

“I know all that,” he said, sighing in exasperation as he felt the muscle softening a bit. His hands fit around her calf and he applied pressure where he knew it hurt the worst. He’d had his share in the past years. Charley-horses were part of the job. Especially when beginning a new phase of training or when a man was new to the job. In this case, a woman was involved, and James felt responsible for her pain.

“Forget about Slim. If you can’t do the job well, he can fill in. But for now, you’re doing just fine and Slim has enough to keep him busy.” He looked down at her leg and his mouth flattened over his teeth.

“If you were a man, I’d have you out of those britches so I could handle this better,” he told her. And then, almost as an afterthought, he tossed her a quick grin. “But, to tell the truth, I’m awfully glad you’re not a man, sweetheart.”

She bit her lip and was silent, her eyes shiny, perhaps with tears she hoarded to herself, he thought. And then she bent toward him and her mouth touched his forehead. “I’m glad I’m not a man, Jamie. Men are nice people for the most part, but in this case, I’d rather be what I am.”

“Tempting? A green-eyed witch? A hip-twitching female?” He offered her choices, and she shot him a smug look, blinking back the moisture she had not allowed to fall. Her mouth formed a smile and he thought triumph dwelled there, the exultation of a woman who has gained her man’s attention.

“You noticed? Especially the hip-twitching part?”

“How could I help it? You’ve got the sweetest little fanny I’ve ever spent any time watching, ma’am.”

She ducked her head, as if suddenly unsure of herself. “I think I should be embarrassed, Jamie. At least a bit put out with you, talking to me this way.”

“I’m only stating facts, Alex. There isn’t a man breathing who wouldn’t watch you if he had a chance. You’re as easy on the eyes as any female I’ve ever known.”

“Thank you, sir. At least I think that was a compliment.”

“Bend a little closer and I guarantee you’ll know it was,” he told her, reaching to encircle her waist with his hands, tugging her forward so that she lost her balance and fell against him. He caught her deftly, held her firmly and touched her mouth with his. As kisses went, it wasn’t the best he’d ever aimed at a woman, but the power of their lips meeting in such a fashion shot through him.

“Jamie, you’re supposed to be taking care of my leg, not kissing me,” she said quietly, her breath sweet against his lips.

“I’d rather kiss you,” he told her, rising and drawing her up from the chair. “Your leg feel better now?” he asked.

“Much,” she told him. “Let me get my boot back on, will you?”

“I’ll put it on for you. In just a minute.”

She watched him, her cheeks rosy, her eyes glowing as she waited. Her mouth was pink and lush, luring him with its softness, promising pleasure should he accept the silent offering before him.

“You’re a beauty, Miss Alexis. A man could get lost in your eyes, and lose his head over your lips. You feel like heaven in my arms,” he murmured, wondering at his own fluent compliments. And then he bent to touch her ear with the tip of his tongue, and used his greater strength to ease her against himself, fitting her securely there, even as he acknowledged the thrust of his male member seeking shelter in the notch of her thighs.

“I think this is getting out of hand,” she said, her palms firm against his chest. “I won’t be treated like a mare in a stall, Jamie.”

“And I won’t do that to you,” he answered. “When I make love to you, it won’t be in the tack room where anybody could come wandering by. I’ll find a private place where we can be alone, where no one will disturb us.”

“When you make love to me?” she asked tartly. “What makes you think it’s a foregone conclusion?”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, smiling at her, knowing his grin was arrogant. His mouth was twisted wryly and she was getting angrier by the second.

“I don’t think so.”

Her answer was what he had expected, and he wasn’t long disappointed.

“I have no intention of performing any intimacies with you, Mr. Webster. I can’t afford to give away what my husband will claim as his own on the day I marry.”

“I’d say that all depends on who your husband turns out to be,” he told her, his arms tightening around her, one hand lifting her chin, the better to position her for his kiss. No matter that she silently protested, turning her head away, pushing at him with futile strength.

He was by far the more powerful, his need was great and his aim was true. His mouth took hers with sure, certain touches, his lips forming to hers, the movement of his tongue urging her to open to him. If he was arrogant, so be it, he thought, sensing her ambivalence as she initially fought his arms and finally surrendered to his strength.





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