Beneath The Texas Sky (25 page)

Mariah tried to explain her love for helping others. She told him of ways her mother’s doctoring and modern medicine could be combined to save lives. Dusty seemed to enjoy Mariah’s accounts of her and her mother having traveled, sometimes miles, to help the sick or hurt.

Before Mariah realized where the time had gone, the dishes were finished and Dusty was standing at the back door. “You’re a pretty good hand for a spoiled brat,” he teased.

“And you continue to amaze me with your skill in-the kitchen. You didn’t break a dish.” Mariah laughed.

He leaned against the open door as if reluctant to leave. His eyes grew darker as she moved to enjoy the night breeze with him. She knew he wanted to kiss her again. Or at least she thought he did. Dustin Barfield was a hard man to read.

“Dusty,” Mariah reached to touch him, then pulled back. “I need to talk to you about selling the ranch.”

She watched a muscle tighten in his jawline, and she moved a few feet away. How could he listen so openly before and now close up? Maybe if he understood her need for the money?

“You’re not still thinking of selling.” A hint of anger blended in- his words.

“Yes.” Mariah tightened her hands into fists. She was tired, but she could still stand up for what she had to do.

Dusty watched her for a long moment. “We’ll talk
about it in the morning.” His tone sounded as if he were ordering a bothersome child to bed.

“No, Dusty, we must talk about it now.” Mariah protested. He couldn’t just avoid her every time the subject came up.

“I will.” Dusty was trying not to yell. “But not now, not tonight.”

Before she could answer, he stepped out of the house and vanished into the black night without an explanation. Mariah stormed to the door. She hated the way he walked out on a fight. She closed the door and locked it, wishing she could do the same with her emotions.

Mariah paced her bedroom for an hour, organizing her thoughts. Tomorrow she’d be ready to face Dusty and talk him into buying her half of this troubled ranch. Getting through medical school was more important than watching a herd of cattle grow fat for slaughter. Her dreams were just as important as his, and she would make him see it even if she had to tie him down to get him to listen.

When she finally retired, she was exhausted, but the feel of Dusty’s touch still haunted her dreams with a longing she could not deny.

In what seemed like only minutes, Mariah opened her eyes to the gray light of a rainy morning. That sick feeling of having overslept flooded over her. She threw on her wrap and ran out into the hallway. She flew down the corridor and into the huge main room, where a mantel clock ticked away, heedless of her panic.

“Nine-thirty!” She stomped her bare foot. She’d planned to talk with Dusty for at least an hour before Elliot arrived. Now she would have less than thirty minutes.

“Something not going your way, princess?” A voice sounded from behind her.

Mariah whirled to find Dusty sitting at the desk. Papers
were scattered in front of him, telling her he’d been working for hours already. She pulled her wrap closed. “Give me ten minutes to dress. I have to talk with you.”

Dusty smiled and leaned back in his chair. “How about talking while you get dressed? That would save time.”

Mariah shook her head and ran down the hall. “Five minutes and I’ll be ready.”

She flew into her room and grabbed the first skirt and blouse she found. Within five minutes she’d dressed, washed her face, and combed her hair into long waves down her back. Her simple blouse buttoned down the front with a bow tied at the neck, and her navy skirt was full and long. Her brothers teased her, saying she looked like a schoolteacher in those clothes. Mariah hoped the air of authority carried over today, for she had many decisions to make.

Tying her hair back with a ribbon, she hurried into the main room. Dusty hadn’t moved from his place. He stood as she neared and held out his hand toward the dining area. “Ruth made some coffee and cinnamon rolls. We can eat while we talk.”

Mariah nodded, following him to the table. As he pulled out her chair, his hand brushed her shoulder lightly. She jumped at his touch. She knew this was just the calm before the storm that would hit as soon as they started talking. Suddenly she couldn’t remember any of the words she planned to say.

“Dusty, we must talk,” she began.

“We can talk, but not of selling the ranch. I won’t, and that is final. I’ve got enough problems without any thoughts about selling.” He was standing behind her, but his words echoed with tightly held anger.

Mariah resented his condescending tone. “We
will
talk about the selling of this ranch. I’m half owner and am getting sick and tired of being talked to like some child.”

“Then stop acting like a spoiled brat and see the whole
picture. You can’t sell your half of the ranch on some whim.”

Mariah stood and faced him. “I’m not a spoiled brat and this is not a whim. Elliot will be here in a few minutes, and I’ll show you what I can do.” This wasn’t going the way she’d planned at all, but there seemed no reasoning with Dusty. He was as headstrong as he was handsome. And right now she hated him for being both. He was confusing her more than anyone had in her entire life.

“You’ll…” Dusty stopped as they both heard a buggy approaching. Both turned to see Elliot rein up as the clock chimed a quarter to ten.

Dusty suddenly jerked Mariah out of sight of the windows. “He’s an eager one.” His hands were tight around her arms. “Mariah, there’s so much you don’t understand.”

Mariah pushed him a few inches away from her. “I’m sick of being treated this way. I plan to sign Elliot’s papers and be done with this mess. You can just work out the details with your new partner.”

Dusty’s face twisted in frustration. “Don’t see him.” To her astonishment, his words were almost a plea.

“I’m sorry,” Mariah answered. She knew if she put her decision off any longer, it would be even more difficult. What did it really matter to Dusty if the ranch were half owned by her or someone else? “Unless you plan on kidnapping me, I’m going to talk with Elliot.”

Mariah had taken three steps toward the door when Dusty’s arm captured her waist. With a cry of frustration she twisted to strike him, but his movements were lightning accurate. Before she realized what was happening, he tied a dinner napkin over her mouth. As she struggled in disbelief, he pulled her hands behind her, yanked the ribbon from her hair, and bound her hands. When he turned her to face him, she kicked as furiously
as she could, but her skirt buffered each blow. Panic flowed in Mariah’s blood as she feared he must have suddenly gone mad.

“I’m sorry,” Dusty whispered as Elliot’s knock pounded on the door. “I…can’t let you meet with him.”

Ruth entered silently from the kitchen. Mariah turned wide-eyed toward the old woman. She silently pleaded for help, but to her horror, Ruth only looked at them like they were children playing some harmless game.

Dusty bent and lifted Mariah over his shoulder like a sack of grain. “Answer the door, Ruth. Give Elliot Mayson some coffee, and tell him I’ll be with him in a few minutes.”

To Mariah’s horror, Ruth nodded as if kidnapping were an everyday occurrence in this household. Dusty ran to the back door as Elliot’s hard knock sounded again. He moved her outside, and within seconds they were hidden in the trees behind the house. Mariah had never been so terrified in all her life. She could see only the ground as he crisscrossed among the trees. She could hear the bubble of a waterfall, and was thankful she hadn’t suggested drowning as a means of solving Dusty’s problem.

Dusty twisted her in his arms until she was cradled like a child. She looked up and was surprised to see no anger in his face, only worry. He held her close as he moved, and Mariah was very much aware of his hand just below her breast. She struggled suddenly, and his grip tightened, moving slightly higher. Mariah froze as her emotions seemed locked on a fast-moving carrousel with first one then another coming to the top. His hand didn’t return to below her breast but remained with his first two fingers pressing against her softness. The ribbon binding her hands cut painfully into her wrists. She could hear his heart pounding in her ears as he carried her into the shadow of the aging trees.

The maddening sensation that she wanted him to press his hand higher frightened Mariah far more than the fact she was being kidnapped.

He moved between closely bunched trees as Mariah caught sight of a cabin. The solidly built cabin was completely hidden in the clump of trees beneath the ridge. The low-hanging clouds seemed to close over the treetops, blanketing them from the rest of the world. No one, unless he knew the cabin was among the trees, would ever guess its existence.

“I thought I’d show you my home while you’re visiting,” he whispered as he kicked the door open. “Now seems an ideal time.”

Dusty stormed across the cabin and tossed Mariah onto a bed. The cloudy day offered little light to the room. Mariah blinked, trying to draw the room into focus as he retied her hands around a corner post of the four-poster bed. The room looked more like a study than a house, with books lining three of the walls. She knew this was Dusty’s place, where he slept and where he went to be alone. The worn, overstuffed chair by the fire told of a great love for reading, just as the chair’s solitude told of few visitors. Even in her fright, Mariah was fascinated by the man who must live here. She could see every kind of book, from the first-readers gathering dust on the top shelf, to a row of law books stacked on a desk in one corner. Could the person who must spend hours treasuring these books possibly be the same man who was kidnapping her?

After Dusty finished tying her hands, he removed the gag slowly, trying not to tangle her hair. He leaned her back amid several layers of colorful quilts. A smile of victory touched his lips, yet worry still shadowed his eyes. “Scream if you’d like, but the waterfall will drown out any noise before it reaches the house.”

Mariah jerked her face free of his grip. “Let me go, or I swear I’ll see you hang for kidnapping.”

Dusty tried to keep his voice calm. “I built this place with Mike’s help the year after you left.”

Mariah pulled at her bonds. “I’ll carve your name on a tombstone myself, Dustin Barfield.”

Dusty continued as if he hadn’t heard her threat. “I doubt if anyone but Ruth and Mike knows where it is, so you’ll be safe here. The trees are so thick no one would guess there was a cabin out behind the main house.”

“Safe!” Mariah screamed. “You’re the only one I need to be safe from. In a few minutes Cain will notice I’m missing, and he’ll tear this hideout of yours apart.”

Dusty shrugged. “Cain left for town before daybreak. Said he’d be back later. Now, if you’re comfortable, I need to get back to that weak-kneed boyfriend of yours. I wouldn’t want to keep the son of Wes Mayson waiting.”

Mariah knew she had to keep Dusty here longer. The more time he spent away, the more worried Elliot would be, and hopefully the more suspicious. “My hands are too tight,” she complained.

Dusty leaned over her to check the knots. “They aren’t cutting off your circulation. You’ll be fine, and I’ll be back in half an hour to untie you.”

As he stood to go, Mariah cried, “Wait!”

Dusty looked at her with one eyebrow raised, as if guessing her next game. “What now?” he asked.

Mariah said the first thing that came to mind. “You said you would kiss me if I asked you to. Well, I’m asking.”

“Now?” Dusty shook his head, then laughed as if she had suddenly lost her mind.

“Now,” Mariah insisted. “I want to know that it was just the moonlight the other night and nothing more. I want to know kissing you means nothing so that when I kill you I’ll do so without any questions.”

Dusty sat on the bed beside her. “All right. It’s not
exactly the begging tone I had hoped for, but knowing you, I might wait a long time for a soft ‘please.’” He moved slowly toward her, a smile lifting the corners of his full lips. His mouth brushed hers lightly at first. Mariah lay frozen, waiting. His tongue tickled the corner of her mouth, then he whispered, “I’ll kiss you now, Mariah, but you have to kiss me back.” His lips were at her cheek, moving slowly to her ear. “I’ll show you what no Eastern-educated fool like Elliot Mayson will ever know, but you have to meet me halfway. For in the middle lies…paradise.”

His words tickled her ear as his fingers slid lightly along her from her shoulders to her waist. She turned willingly toward his mouth and felt his lips meet hers. His mouth was gentle and tender as his hands continued to caress her sides, creating a tidal wave of fire within her. She swayed back and forth and felt his fingers brush the sides of her breasts in their journey. A sigh escaped as she opened her mouth, allowing his kiss to deepen. His tongue moved slowly inside to taste, his hands crept an inch farther up the sides of her breasts. Each movement slightly increased in pressure, and Mariah’s pleasure climbed. Never had she been so kissed or so touched by a man. A yearning deep within her grew like a hollow ache and spread over her body. She wanted more, but with each touch the ache grew into a greater need.

With hesitation, she returned his kiss, following his lead. He pulled his mouth free and moved to her neck, kissing the spot where her pulse pounded. “Mariah…Mariah,” he whispered into the hollow of her neck.

“No…” Mariah cried with a sob, fighting her body for control. “No, stop,” she whispered as his hands moved along the sides of her breasts and his lips moved down her throat.

“Where should I stop loving you, Mariah?” Dusty’s voice was low in passion. “Here?” He moved his hands
to her waist and spread them wide over her abdomen. “Or here?” he whispered as his fingers moved up to trace under each of her breasts. He knotted the material of her blouse tightly in his fist. His action revealed the clear outline of her bust.

His mouth moved to her ear, and his teeth tugged at her lobe before he whispered, “Or here, Mariah?” His thumbs brushed with loving strokes over the thin material covering her breasts.

She said the only word her body would allow. The only word her lips could form. “More.”

Dusty returned to her lips then, with a passion she’d never tasted before. His kiss was afire with need as he slid his body down beside her on the bed. His hands no longer moved in smooth strokes, but explored freely over the silk of her blouse. Mariah twisted and felt his hand cover her breast. He groaned, as if in pain, but didn’t pull his hand away. Slowly his fingers began to caress her, and with each movement Mariah’s pleasure grew.

His kiss transformed from tender to demanding, and Mariah loved each version. She could barely breathe as his hand flattened over her heart. Then, his touch was gone and she tried to cry out for its return, but his lips stopped any sound. She felt his fingers at her throat as he pulled the blouse bow free. His hand moved down her front, unbuttoning each barrier in his way as his kiss continued. He lovingly slid the material open and shoved her camisole up. His hand moved onto the silk of her warm, waiting flesh.

Mariah thought she would die with pleasure as his strong fingers touched her burning skin. He caught her pointed flesh between two of his fingers and tugged slightly, breaking the kiss as she moaned with each tug. Mariah closed her eyes as his magic worked over her. The fire within her was growing with each action, and yet the need for more equalled each pleasure.

Just as she thought she could endure no more joy, she felt his mouth close over her flesh. His tongue circled her nipple and she cried out. He moved from one to the other silky peak as she swayed beneath him. He slowly tasted his fill of her yielding flesh, and she knew her breasts swelled in welcome. A low cry escaped her lips. A cry of need only lovers understood, only lovers can quench.

When his mouth finally returned to her lips, she hungrily showed him of her pleasure. He took his time as she practiced kissing him. He would allow her long moments to experiment before he would pull her closer and demonstrate his passion once more. Always he touched her breasts as if accompanying their kiss with the waves of fire his hands brought. His tongue would plunge deep as his hands gripped possessively, then his kiss would lighten to a feathery touch and his fingers would brush across her so softly she would feel herself floating in desire.

Finally, when her breathing was coming in short gulps, Dusty moved over her. He lowered his slender body like a blanket. She could feel his legs through their clothes on either side of her limbs. As he slid down, she felt his belt buckle push lightly into her abdomen. He rested his head between her breasts and moved his fingers from where her arms were tied down the outside of her body. He pushed the mounds gently together until her flesh was touching either side of his face. Mariah could feel her heart pounding beneath his head, and his hair tickled her skin as his mouth moved slowly back and forth.

Mariah knew she was sinking fast. If she didn’t stop this madness, she knew she would be unable to stop. “Please,” she begged to herself as well as Dusty. “Please, stop.”

His hands now gripped her waist tightly in a brand of ownership. He pushed at the material of her skirt. The
waistband buttons snapped as the skirt slid a few inches off her waist.

“No,” Mariah cried, as the pleasure of his hands brushing her flesh blended with the last hint of sanity in her mind.

Dusty pulled away slightly. “Mariah, I love you. I love you beyond reason. Beyond any feeling I’ve ever had in my life. When I awoke the other morning to find you standing before me, I thought I was dreaming. You belong to me and this ranch.”

An ounce of reason returned to Mariah’s brain. “I belong to no one.” She hated the thought that anyone would ever think they owned her. She must stop this insane pleasure before she lost her mind.

Dusty’s fingers circled her breasts, and he smiled as Mariah’s lips parted in a silent sigh. “Tell me you don’t want me, Mariah. Tell me my touch doesn’t set you on fire, and I’ll back away. You may deny you love me, but you cannot deny you want me as much as I need you.”

Mariah twisted away from him. She could not deny him, but anger of his power over her body sobered her mind. “If you’ve finished raping me, would you untie me?”

Dusty’s golden eyes darkened, first in frustration, then anger. His hand raised above her as if on a quest to prove her wrong, then dropped in a fist among the quilts. He rolled away from her with a frustrated sigh. He jerked out his pocket knife and cut her bounds. “I wasn’t raping you…” She could hear the hurt in his words.

Mariah jumped off the bed and pulled her clothes together. “What do you call it when you tie a woman to your bed?”

Dusty shook his head in disbelief that she could even think that what he’d done was rape. She could see the questions in his eyes. For perhaps the first time in his life, this strong man was questioning himself, doubting
himself. “But…” Frustrated, he dug his fingers through his light hair.

Mariah was furious at Dusty and at herself. She knew what had happened had been jointly wanted, but she grabbed the first weapon at her disposal, his doubt. “I should shoot you for what you just did to me. No man has ever taken any of the liberties you did.”

It bothered her that he might have been doing what he did to save his ranch and not out of any feeling for her. Every man who’d ever courted her had done so with other goals than just loving her. Hadn’t Dusty kissed her only two nights ago just to prove a point? “Did you think you could paw me a little and get me to forget about selling the ranch? Well, you were wrong. You can hold me here for days and make my head swim with your kisses, but I still will sell my half of the ranch.”

“Paw you! Paw you!” Dusty rose and stormed to the door. “Is that what you think I was doing? I could have sworn you asked me to kiss you.”

“A kiss, no more.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mariah. You asked for-more.”

“No. You took more:”

“My God, have you no heart?” He grabbed a low ceiling beam with both hands and pushed as if to move the house. “Could I have been so wrong about you? Could a woman with such passion have only a cold stone inside her for a heart? I was loving you, Mariah. Loving you for no motive than to bring you pleasure.”

“You kidnapped me. You tied me to your bed and took what you wanted while I protested. Now you expect me to believe you did so to make me happy?”

“I was loving you.”

“You were taking.”

“No!”

“I hate you for what you did!”

Dusty pulled the door open with such force the windows
on either side of it shook. “To hell with the ranch and to hell with you, if you believe that. Go. Get out of my sight. Sell the ranch, I don’t care anymore. Do what you want, but get out of my life. I don’t ever want to see you or touch you again as long as I live.”

His words hurt her more than if he’d hit her. She ran out the doorway, fighting to keep from crying. Rain was falling so softly she hadn’t even heard it. Even outside, its splattering seemed dwarfed by the thundering of her heart. As she picked her way through the trees, Mariah let the tears run free. A huge lump grew in her throat, making her breathing shallow as each tear burned its way down her face. She felt her heart tearing apart with each step she took away from Dusty. How could he have made her feel such passion and yet not take the time to understand her? She had a right to her dreams just as he did, yet every time she’d tried to talk to him about her plans he’d refused to listen.

As Mariah passed the waterfall, she crumbled onto the wet grass and cried like she’d never cried before. Huge sobs were drowned out by the falling rain as it washed her cheeks clean after each tear. Her fingers clawed at the earth and pulled handfuls of sod into her fists. She slung the wet dirt from her as if she could throw out the pain that mounted in her chest.