Branded (28 page)

Lacey's rock path had been completely submerged in water. As she surveyed the creek, trying to figure out how to cross, Oliver pulled out of her grasp and leaped in. He easily padded across. The water now reached his shoulders.

She seemed to have no choice. She'd have to wade through the water. In order to see better, Lacey tossed aside her ruined bonnet. Her feet sunk into the mud, making it impossible to move quickly. The weight of her waterlogged skirts didn't help.

She pulled herself up on a partially submerged fallen tree trunk. With care, she pushed herself to a standing position. She took small tottering steps using her arms for balance. The dark water was moving rapidly downstream and looked suddenly treacherous. Panic ripped through her as she looked helplessly across to Grady. He seemed more angry than worried.

"What are you waiting for? Come across."

"I-I c-can't," she stammered. "I can't swim. I'm frightened."

"Don't be ridiculous. You won't drown. Just watch your step." Somehow, his words did not provide even an ounce of reassurance. Grady stood there with an outstretched hand, but he had not made a move to cross the creek to help her.

Lacey could feel the blood draining from her face, and she shivered from cold and fear. Terror gripped her, and she couldn't take another step. She could feel the turbulent water now rising above her ankles. Oliver stood on the shore barking wildly.

Grady looked furiously down at his new boots, now covered in black sludge. He bent over to try and yank one off, but the wetness made it a difficult task.

"Hell, Lacey, do you realize how much I paid for these rattle skin boots? They're ruined. All because you were too stubborn to listen."

Lacey was starting to feel lightheaded and Grady's tirade wasn't helping. Watching Grady struggling to pull off his precious boots, it occurred to her that this predicament was a solution to all her troubles. She would simply jump into the water and let it sweep her downstream and away from the Lazy Heart. Maybe, she'd even get lucky and knock herself senseless on a rock on the way down. She'd wake not remembering any of this.

Then she saw him. He was coming over the hill on foot. He carried a mallet in his hand. He'd probably heard Oliver's incessant barking. Good dog, she thought, as she felt the water now circling her calves.

"Slade!"

That was all she needed to say. He threw down the mallet and raced toward her.

"Slade? What the devil are you talking about?" Grady turned just in time to see his brother sprinting down the hill.

Grady flung his arm out in a restraining gesture. "I'll get her."

Slade shoved Grady aside, nearly toppling him into the river. Without hesitation, he walked straight into the water. Boots and all, Lacey couldn't help noting. Grabbing hold of the tree, he hoisted himself onto it. He scooped her into his arms, cradling her against his hard body. She clung to his neck and buried her face against his chest. Hers wasn't the only heart beating fast. She could feel the pounding of his against her cheek.

Sure footed, as always, he walked the length of the log.

Grady reached out to take her from Slade. "Here, give her to me," he said.

But Lacey had no intentions of loosening her grip on Slade. With a muttered curse, Grady dropped his empty arms and stamped off toward the wagon.

Lacey peered shyly up at Slade. He was smiling down at her.

"What took you so long?" she asked before nestling her face back into his soaking shirt.

"We cowboys are a mite slow when we don't have a horse beneath us." He gave her the lightest kiss on the forehead, and carried her across the field. Though, they both knew, she was quite capable of walking on her own.

He set her on her feet by the wagon. With reluctance, she finally took her hands from his neck.

Slade said her dog's name once, in the calmest fashion. The hound came trotting up eager to do his bidding.

"Up," he said patting the wagon, and the dog instantly obeyed.

It was easy to ignore Grady's scowls and angry silence on the ride back. Her body still tingled with the sensation of being cradled in Slade's strong arms.

# # #

Lacey had chosen to sit in a corner of the deserted dining hall knowing Grady never ventured there. She emptied a small mound of beads on the table.

After inspecting her work, she found, to her alarm, that her elaborate design was nearly completed. There was only the hummingbird's head to finish and a few more leaves before her veil would be complete.

She wondered if she could squeeze in a flower or two. Unfortunately, there wasn't a bit of space left on the hem of the veil. With all the beadwork, no one would be able to distinguish her design unless they looked very closely. From a distance, it would be just a mass of beads.

What was she doing? She couldn't put this off forever. This morning, she'd had to listen to Grady's ultimatum to finish or find herself bareheaded. Would she ever work up the courage to end the betrothal?

She fingered the tiny heart she'd placed in the center of a flower. It was tipped on its side like the old Lazy Heart Ranch brand. The same one Slade Dalton had emblazoned on his hip. It was a silly, sentimental thing to do, she realized. No one would ever see it. Least of all, the person she'd embroidered it for--Slade Dalton.

She could hear Grady's voice in the adjacent room. Lately, she found herself almost fearing him. She took a deep, steadying breath and plunged her needle in. Discovering only after she'd pricked her finger that she'd forgotten her thimble.

She stuck her finger in her mouth and then flipped the embroidery over. With her kerchief, she removed any trace of blood on the end of the needle before pulling it back through the tulle. Grady called her, and she steeled herself to reply.

"I'm in here," she said, her voice nothing but a pitiful croak.

After sweeping the beads into the bag, she glanced up to find him towering over her. He stood with his chest puffed out, feet apart, his thumbs hooked into his belt. Rather like the drawing of a corrupt banker she'd seen on a penny dreadful once.

"Lacey, we discussed it this morning. I don't want you fussing with this dratted thing anymore." He ripped the veil from her hands. He handled it carelessly and squinted at the intricate design. "What a lot of work for nothing. We'll be in and out of that church before anyone even notices."

He fingered his mustache, his mouth drawing into a thin, angry line. "One would think you were trying to postpone the wedding."

Instead of answering, she tried to grab the veil from his hand. He moved it above his head like he was taunting a child. She watched in horror as he wadded it up in his fist.

"You aren't wasting anymore time on this. I'm buying you something in town tomorrow."

Slade doused the branding fire. He watched the insulted calf waddle away to join the rest of the newly branded bunch. A sudden shriek caused him to drop the iron. He knew it was hers. He tore off in the direction it had come from. When another scream pierced the air, his heart thundered in his chest. He cut through the fields and vaulted over the pasture fencing.

Before she'd come into his life fear had been a foreign sensation. Now it plagued him in many forms. He feared that something might harm her, that he might lose her, and selfishly that she'd never want him. It was an absurd notion--worrying about losing something that never belonged to you.

He came to a skidding halt when he saw her in the distance dancing around the outer-yard of the chicken coop. She held her skirts up away from her ankles, laughing hysterically as Floyd, the ranch's arrogant rooster, chased after her. The bird pecked wildly at her boots.

Slade half-hid behind the old elm tree and watched her. A ritual that had become as necessary as breathing to him. Her silken black hair whipped around as she looked over her shoulder, keeping the sharp-beaked culprit in her sight. The rooster, momentarily distracted by a group of chickens squawking nearby, took to bullying one of the hens. But the second Lacey headed for the gate, Floyd, moving swiftly on his little stick legs, renewed his attack. Lacey jumped and squealed in delight.

Aching with need for her, Slade clenched his fists, letting his fingernails bite into the palms of his hands. Everything she did made him crazy for her.

The soft whoosh of a skirt being dragged over grass sounded behind him, but Slade was too captivated by Lacey to turn around.

"Thank goodness," Dora said in a breathless voice, "I thought she'd gotten hurt. I shoulda known it was that ornery rooster. I had her gathering up eggs for the omelet I'm plannin'."

"She seems to be having a good time collecting them."

"That she does--course that girl finds joy in everything. I guess when I was young and beautiful, I did too, for that matter."

"You still are young and beautiful, Dora." Slade turned and kissed her cheek.

"Lacey, what the devil are you doing? Stop acting such a fool. Drop your skirts and get the devil out of there." Grady's angry shout caused the hair to prickle on the back of Slade's neck.

Slade watched as his brother stomped with self-importance toward the yard. With a frustrated jerk, Grady threw the gate open. The chickens and even the fearless rooster squawked in terror. They scattered to the back of the yard. Their wings pumped wildly as they attempted to fly.

The crestfallen look on her beautiful face made Slade swallow hard.

"Damned bast--"

"Slade!"

Slade bit back the words. He'd forgotten Dora, forgotten everything but the hurt look on Lacey's face.

"You've got to accept what is, Slade. I know it's hard for you. But she is here for your brother. Not you."

He could not pull his eyes from Lacey even as Dora spoke.

"He'll choke the spirit out of her. They're not suited. You know it as well as I do."

"That Ludlow girl is awful sweet on you. She'd make you a fitting wife."

"What about Suzanne?" he asked absently, unable to think of anything but Lacey at the moment, and the fact that his brother had earned himself the right to be near her.

"Nothin'," Dora replied. "Honey, let it be."

Slade watched as his brother, with Lacey in tow, headed back to the house. He had a cocksure expression on his face like a man proud that he'd brought his woman to heel. Lacey's head hung low, but Slade recognized the sweet, sly smile that played on her lips as she fished an egg out of her pocket. She hurled it at Grady, giggling as it struck him square on the back of his neck. Grady stood frozen for a long moment, the thick, yellowish liquid oozing into the gap of his collar.

Grady turned hard on his heels, and her laughter stopped abruptly. Realizing her betrothed was far from charmed by the gesture, her face went pale. Instinctively, Slade tensed his muscles ready to defend her, but Dora placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Don't, Slade. There is already enough hatred between you boys."

He could barely hear her over the sound of the blood pounding in his ears. Lacey winced as Grady roughly grabbed both of her arms.

Dora's grip tightened on Slade's shoulder. "I beg you, Slade. No fighting. Not again--I can't bear it."

Slade released his pent-up breath when his brother let go of Lacey.

"That's wonderful. I have a meeting in town today." Grady yanked off his detachable collar and threw it to the ground. He wiped the egg from his neck, shaking it off his fingers with a disgusted look. "Sometimes, you act worse than a child. Don't you ever pull such an asinine prank again."

Slade watched Grady stalk back to the house. Tears rolled down Lacey's ashen cheeks as she followed in his wake. He had never hated Grady so much.

"It would break your father's heart if he saw how you two were behaving toward each other."

He reluctantly turned to face Dora. "I'm responsible for Pa's death, and Grady will never forgive me for that. I can understand the way he feels. I find it impossible to forgive him the slightest thing when it comes to Lacey."

Dora reached up, seized his face with both hands and stared straight into his eyes. "You listen here, Slade Michael, I don't ever want to hear you speak like that again. Your father's death was a terrible tragedy, but you can't punish yourself for the rest of your life." Her voice had grown suddenly sterner. "And as far as your brother's feelings, about you it has little to do with your pa's death. Grady has had to live his entire life dealing with the fact that his older brother was better than him at everything.

"You were riding, roping, and shooting well before him and doing it all with ease. Not to speak of the girls who just seemed to fall into your lap. And though your father loved all of you, he couldn't help boasting of your talents."

Dora's voice softened again, and her eyes glossed with tears. "Don't you see, Slade, honey? Grady finally has something you don't. You mustn't ruin it for him."

Dora dropped her hands from his face and dried her tears with the edge of her apron. They said nothing for a long while. Slade leaned against the tree and toed the rocks embedded in the dirt. Dora turned to leave.

"Dora." Slade spoke in a quiet, calm tone. "If he hurts her, I'll kill him." And even the dreadful sadness on Dora's face could not convince him otherwise.

# # #

The porch offered no protection. The wind sent the stinging rain into Lacey's eyes. Strands of hair, beaded with rain, whipped her face. She'd long since given up tucking it behind her ears. She glanced over at Tait and wondered how he managed to sleep on the hard bench.

He came out of the dark. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched him approach. He wore a military coat with two gilt-edged bars on the shoulder that she'd never seen before. As he headed toward the porch steps, his jacket parted revealing a naked, rain-slicked chest. Rivulets of water dripped from the brim of his hat. His pants were muddied to the knee. All Lacey could think was, she'd never seen anything finer than that soaking wet man.

His eyes on her, he took his hat off and slapped it on his thigh. He raked his hair back from his head. "Who are you waitin' for, Lace?"