Beneath The Texas Sky (23 page)

Shadows crept in long strides across her room when Mariah awoke. She sat up and stretched, loving the feel of having finally slept in a bed after days of travel. She pulled her long ebony curls on top of her head and breathed deep of the wonderful smell of bacon frying somewhere in the house.

A light tap sounded at her door. Mariah turned lazily expecting to welcome Ruth. To her surprise, she watched the door swing open to reveal Dusty’s frame leaning against the doorfacing. He was dressed in black pants and a spotlessly white shirt. His dark vest seemed to emphasize his slim waist and broad shoulders. He slowly rolled up one of his shirtsleeves in an absentminded gesture. The white, starched shirt contrasted dramatically with his tanned, muscular arm.

“Evening, Miss Weston,” he smiled as if he had forgotten their bitter words. “It’s almost dark, but I thought you’d probably like a little breakfast.” She watched as his golden eyes dropped to her bare shoulders. His gaze warmed her flesh as his vision moved lower to the tight-fitting silk of her camisole.

Mariah jerked her arms down releasing her curls to tumble around her shoulders. She pulled a colorful quilt over her half-exposed breasts, wishing she had taken the time to unpack a modest cotton nightgown. Anger
warmed her cheeks even more. “Sir, I’m not dressed,” she said, knowing he was fully aware of the fact. “I’d thank you to close my door.”

Dusty shrugged. “Fair’s fair. I wasn’t dressed this morning and that didn’t seem to stop you from confronting me. Anyway, I happen to be standing on my half of the hall.” His smile was smug and his eyes full of challenge.

Mariah jerked the quilt around her and rolled off the far side of the bed onto her bare feet. She stormed toward him in an angry huff.

Dusty stepped back in mock fear. “Don’t go on the warpath. I just thought you’d like some breakfast before dark.”

“I will,” Mariah answered as she slammed the door. “When I get dressed.”

As the sound of the door echoed through the house, Mariah heard Dusty’s laughter from the hall. “Ten minutes, Miss Spoiled Brat, ten minutes.”

Mariah dropped her quilt and moved over to her trunk. She rapidly dug to the bottom and found her riding skirt and blouse. She was not going to bother dressing for dinner with this cowboy. If she’d brought a pair of pants, she would have worn them. She pulled her hair back and quickly braided it into a long thick plait.

Wrapping a red sash around her small waist, Mariah stood before an oval mirror. She studied her reflection for a minute. Her waist was tiny and her breasts a bit too full, she thought. She had been told all her life that she was beautiful. Most of the men she knew treated her like some dainty ornament. Maybe that’s why it was so important for her to make something of her life. She wanted to be more than a doll. She wanted men to see her as a person. More than anything, she wanted what every man already had; she wanted to be in control of
her own destiny. The medical school at Boston University would be her start.

Mariah smiled to herself and nodded at her reflection. Here on the Weston Ranch, she was taking the first step to her goal. She would sell the ranch and pay for more schooling. By the time she ran out of money, she would be one of a handful of women physicians in this country.

Satisfied with her hurried grooming, she moved gracefully down the hall, surprised that Dusty wasn’t standing outside her door waiting. She followed the delicious smell of bread baking to the dining room. The table was set with beautiful china and linens, but no one was about.

As she reached to brush the centerpiece of bluebonnets, the sun seemed to add a golden glow to the entire room. This country was so isolated and uncivilized, yet nature seemed to try so hard to shine.

Dusty stepped through the kitchen door with his arms loaded down with plates. “I cooked you bacon and eggs with gravy and biscuits.”

“You cooked?” Mariah questioned.

“Nothin’ fancy like you must have had in Europe or back East. But I work here late at night, and I had to learn to cook or starve. Ruth likes to go to bed and get up with the sun.” Dusty set the plates of food on the table.

“How did you know about my travels?” Mariah asked as she studied him.

“Letters from your mom mostly, and I had a long talk with Cain before he turned in.” Dusty winked at her in a disarming gesture that warmed her to the core. “You seem to be his favorite topic of conversation.”

“Cain is suddenly becoming as gabby as an old woman,” Mariah muttered.

To her surprise, Dusty moved behind a chair and pulled it out for her. She was glad to know he wasn’t
totally void of manners here at his ranch in the middle of this half-wild state.

Taking her place, she felt Dusty’s shoulder touch hers as he leaned close behind her. His words were so low in her ear she wasn’t sure he was aware he spoke them. “It’s nice to have you home, Mariah.”

Mariah turned her head toward him, and her cheek brushed the side of his beard. She wanted to say this was not her home, but didn’t have the heart to start an argument again so soon. “You might have more women to dinner, Mr. Barfield, if you’d consider shaving.”

Dusty straightened and rubbed his furry jawline with his thumb. “You think so?” His words sounded serious, but his eyes twinkled golden with mischief. A maverick eyebrow shot up, giving him the look of a pirate. “I’ve had this for so many years I might not recognize myself clean-shaven. But who knows?” He tugged at her braid lightly. “There are bound to be a few changes around this place.”

He slid into the chair across from her and began handing her dishes. Within a few minutes, Mariah found her plate filled with a huge breakfast. She ate like a hungry field hand instead of a small woman who had spent the day asleep.

After several bites, Mariah looked up to see Dusty sipping his coffee and watching her with an easy smile brushing his full lips. She wished suddenly that she’d met him somewhere else and he’d not been the one her father had made half owner of this ranch. She would’ve liked getting to know him and playing the flirting game she always played with men. She smiled back, and then continued eating.

When Dusty finally spoke, his words sounded rehearsed. “It’s dark, but I thought you might like to ride up to the ridge and watch the stars come out. That is, if you still love to ride?”

Mariah poured herself another cup of coffee. “That would be wonderful. I could use the exercise.” While she sipped her coffee, Dusty played with a biscuit on his plate but made no effort to take even one bite. He was watching her every move. Mariah tried to figure out if he was quiet or shy. He was so unlike all the men she’d met before. No one must have schooled him in the art of keeping lively conversation going. She found his silent attention both flattering and relaxing.

Finally he stood, “I’ll go saddle a few horses while you finish…unless you would prefer to ride with me like you used to do?”

Mariah smiled. “I think I’m old enough for a horse of my own. You might be surprised. I might just ride better than you.”

Dusty walked toward the door. “That’ll be the day, when a schoolgirl outrides me.” There was a hint of challenge in his voice.

“I’m not a schoolgirl,” Mariah shouted after him, but there was no anger in her tone.

“So I noticed.” Dusty glanced at her as he grabbed his hat and coat off the rack by the door. His eyes dropped briefly to her blouse before returning to her face. A lazy smile spread over his handsome features. She knew he was thinking of the way she had looked earlier, with only her camisole to cover her.

He was gone before she could answer. Mariah leaned back in her chair and smiled. She had first thought this Dusty might be a problem, but maybe there was a way around him, and it wasn’t with arguments. She rose slowly and went to fetch her coat. Yes, she thought, she would handle him as she’d handled men all her life. She’d never encountered a man who wouldn’t give in after one of her smiles. Even Uncle Josh would have allowed her to go back to school and work for her goal if her mother hadn’t insisted against it. Mariah knew her mother
wanted to protect her from the pain of being an outcast as the only woman enrolled in medical school. But Mariah had a mind of her own, and she planned to reach her goal without any outside help.

Mariah stepped out onto the porch as Dusty brought up the horses. The evening glowed in shadowy blues as a full moon hung like a huge milk glass dish in the cloudless sky. She moved silently behind Dusty as he tightened the girth on a chestnut mare. She hesitated a moment before reaching to rest her hand on his arm. He’d been so nice this evening, she hated to manipulate him. But a woman had to use- what weapons she had to fight to be equal. “Thanks for suggesting a ride,” Mariah whispered as he turned toward her. His face was hidden in shadows, but she felt the muscles-in his forearm tighten beneath her fingers.

She slid her hand up his shirt to his shoulder feeling his flesh tighten to her light touch. “Help me up?” She moved closer, fully aware how her nearness was affecting his breathing. She smiled to herself. This was going to be easier than she thought.

Dusty’s hands went around her waist slowly. He pulled her closer, then lifted her effortlessly into the saddle. She looked down at him, his hands remaining around her waist. Then, as if not wanting her to read his thoughts, Dusty turned away and said roughly, “Let’s ride.”

Before he could reach his horse, Mariah kicked her mount into action. She rode across the open land, laughing as Dusty yelled for her to wait. It was several minutes before he caught up with her. “Slow down, Mariah,” he yelled. “When I said a ride, I didn’t mean a race.”

Mariah pulled her horse up and slowed to a walk. “I’m sorry if it’s too much for you. I should have remembered your age.”

“My age?” Dusty laughed. “All right, kid, I’ll race you to the elms at the edge of the ridge.”

Before the last word was out of his mouth, Mariah was already two lengths ahead of him. She shoved her hat off her head and laughed as the wind whistled by her face. They rode hard as the moonlight danced across the land. Dusty passed her less than a hundred feet from the trees. He jumped from his horse and turned to greet her, his arms folded as if waiting.

Mariah reined her mount beside him, laughing with the pure joy of riding. He reached for her without hesitation and pulled her to stand beside him. “Glad you finally got here, kid,” he said, out of breath.

Mariah put her arms around his neck in a loose hold. “I’ll guess I’ll have to pay up. What is the usual bet here in Texas?”

Dusty’s sudden loss of breath had nothing to do with his vigorous ride. He moved away slightly and straightened into a tense stance. “I never make bets with kids.”

Mariah found his shyness unusual and refreshing. She knew he was attracted to her; those golden eyes couldn’t lie so blatantly. She stepped closer and locked her hand gently over his arm. As they strolled toward the ridge’s edge, Mariah asked, “Do you really think of me as a child?”

Dusty didn’t answer, but bent his elbow to accommodate her touch. His words came slow in the night air. “The stars look huge from this spot. On a clear night like this, you can see miles just by moonlight.”

They walked beside a thick shelter of trees. Dusty’s low voice blended with the whispers of the leaves around them. “Years ago, when Indians were a problem, we kept a man posted over there by the trees. Nowadays only an old-timer named Willie sleeps out here.”

Mariah tugged at his arm and he stopped. “Dusty,” she asked again, “do you still think of me as a child?”

As he turned toward her, his arm brushed the material covering her breasts. “I…” He seemed to be unable to
finish. His face was hidden in shadows, but his voice seemed lower than before. “I think…”

Mariah smiled to herself. She knew if she could get him to admit she was an adult, the battle would be half won. But she was unprepared for this quiet man’s action. In the swiftness of a snapping twig, he bent toward her, capturing her lips with his kiss.

Mariah had been kissed several times by daring suitors, but nothing compared to Dusty’s kiss. His long fingers clasped over her shoulders pulling her to him full length. His mouth pressed hers in bruising need. As she tried to protest, his tongue parted her lips to taste the inside of her mouth. Mariah tried to move away, but couldn’t break free from his powerful hold. As her heart pounded moments into eternity, she felt herself sinking into his embrace. The wall she had built so carefully to allow no man near was slowly sinking into quicksand.

All thoughts drained from Mariah’s mind as she tried to stay afloat in the flood of sensations that swept over her. Her fingers rose to his chest, and even her effort to push him away became a tender embrace. His hands moved down her back, pulling her close and burning her forever with his fire. He wasn’t playing with the same set of rules, she suddenly realized. He wasn’t playing a game at all.

Mariah pushed her palms up his chest and across his shoulders to touch his hair. Her fingers ran through his sandy curls, and she felt herself melting into him as wax liquifies in the sun. His kiss deepened from a fiery explosion into a gentle need that she could no more have turned away from than stop her heart’s pounding.

Gently, his kisses lightened to a feathery touch upon her lips. They rippled like silent whispers of desire over her face. Mariah closed her eyes as she realized he was slowly lowering her from the sky back to earth. The
knowledge that she didn’t want to return, but longed for him to kiss her again, blanketed all other thoughts.

Dusty’s lips slowly crossed her cheek to her ear where he whispered, “That should answer any question as to whether or not I think of you as a child or a woman.” As his words registered, he stepped away, ending his embrace.

Mariah felt the chill of his withdrawal both on her body and in her heart. The knowledge that his kiss had been a demonstration frightened her. She’d fancied herself as always knowing how to handle the opposite sex, and now she knew that she had only been dealing with boys and doting old men. This man wouldn’t be managed so easily, if at all. Anger, at herself and him, balled her fingers into fists. Before she took time to think, her right fist flew through the air and landed solidly across his jaw.