Charlene Sands (9 page)

Tess bit her lip, then shared her suspicions with Tom. “There’s…Clint.”

“Clint? You don’t really think he’s behind all this?”

She shook her head and sipped her coffee, contemplating. “I don’t know. He makes no secret that he wants to buy me out of my half of the ranch. Scaring me and making things difficult to run the ranch might be his way of helping that along. And yet he’s the first one to fix whatever problems crop up from the sabotage. It’s a mystery. And it’s strange to think someone’s out there, planning on hurting the Double H.” The notion brought prickly bumps to her arms. Made her quiver with trepidation.

“Be careful, Tess.” He sipped coffee again. “Laura and I think of you as family.”

“I’m careful.” She’d been cautious for all her years. She always looked over her shoulder and protected herself because no one had ever cared enough to do it for her except for her dear friends. “And I think of you as family, too,” she managed, refusing to get emotional again, though a swell of love coursed through her from his kind words.

The baby fussed with the sweetest cries and small movements that said she needed nourishment. “Do you want to take her in to Laura? Or shall I?” she asked.

“You sit, Tess. Relax some. I’ll take her in to see her mama.”

“Laura will be happy to see you tonight.”

“I hope she got the rest she needed.”

“I think she did. Give her a few days, Tom. She’ll be herself again soon.”

Tom left the room with a worried expression, and Tess only marveled at how much he loved his wife, how close they were and how now they had a little one to bond that love even more.

Tess walked outside to a sultry night, the air heavy and thick. She sat on a bench seat on the front porch and gazed at the stars as loneliness seeped into her soul. The desolate feeling always hovered close by, ready to take control. She’d been its victim most of her life. Only meeting Hoyt had changed that, and for those few months the lonely feelings had disappeared. But Hoyt was gone now and Tess had a different life.

She didn’t want to go back to that insecure, hesitant, uneasy woman she once was. But at the moment, thinking of her dear friends and their new baby, sharing the wonderful newness of family, Tess had never felt more alone.

Her mind drifted to Clint.

And for the first time she realized how much they had in common. Both were fighting past hurts. Both had been scarred by events out of their control.

She remembered how she’d felt when he’d held her sinfully close to him. When his lips had touched hers. The spark. The immediate connection. Sensations had ripped through her, robbing her breath, pumping her heart, making her feel safe even in his dangerous embrace.

In those moments she hadn’t been lonely. In those moments she’d felt as if she belonged. She’d ached inside for wanting Clint to be any other man than the one bent on destroying his father’s legacy.

She took another look skyward, noting the vastness of the night, and gave in to the loneliness she’d fought so valiantly for so long. Just for tonight, she allowed herself the freedom of surrender.

She entered Tom and Laura’s home and settled in for the night, hoping sleep would claim her quickly.

Tomorrow, she had a mission to accomplish.

Tomorrow, she wouldn’t be lonely.

Tess returned to the Double H the next afternoon, pulling her buggy up to the barn. She’d had a good day, leaving a well-rested Laura in better spirits, posting up her signs in town, speaking with her employees and hand-delivering some invitations to the homesteads on her way home. She’d set the meeting for Wednesday in the Hayworth Hotel’s dining room.

Though the men she’d addressed seemed a bit confused when she’d spoken about her meeting, they’d agreed to give their wives, daughters or sisters the special invitation. She’d thought of doing this for so long and had hoped for a chance to meet with the women and speak from her heart. Now she’d be given the chance.

“You getting down from there or you gonna continue to daydream?”

Clint stood by the buggy’s brake, and when she came out of her momentary haze, he smiled.

“Oh, uh, of course.”

That rare smile did things to her. She had no call thinking about him or how the deep sound of his voice stirred her senses.

He reached to help her down. She couldn’t very well refuse. It was a polite gesture any man on the ranch would offer. But Clint wasn’t just any man, and as soon as she set her hands on his shoulders and felt him gripping her waist, a rapid pulse beat in her throat as she recalled his kiss and the lusty way he’d touched her the other night.

She leaned into him and her breasts met with his chest. He let her down slowly, bracing her tight, their bodies brushing together as he lowered her. His scent of earth and work and man stirred her senses. She was drawn to him in an uncanny way and had no resistance when he held her so close.

When she stood on solid ground, his gaze locked to hers. “Enjoy your evening last night?”

Her breaths came fast. “Why? Did you miss me?” Nerves jangling, her jest had come out as a serious question, and heat rushed up her throat. Instant mortification set in.

He arched a brow while holding her to him. His gaze drifted to her mouth. “Maybe.”

Her heart tripped over itself. It wasn’t the response she’d expected from him. He continued to hold her around the waist and she continued to allow him. The connection strong, Tess had trouble thinking her next thought while his fingers applied slight, mesmerizing pressure to her waist. She fought female urges and remembered that they weren’t alone. Ranch hands worked the property and could be looking on. “Let me be, Clint.”

His lips quirked up naturally. “I don’t have a hold on you, Tess.”

When she looked down she discovered that, sure enough, Clint had released his hands from her waist. His touch had marked her somehow, and the lasting effect remained even after he’d physically let her go. Did he have another kind of hold on her? she wondered. One that couldn’t be so easily broken?

Tess put her head down and sighed from the confounding thoughts swirling through her mind.

“Hard to believe little Laura is a mother now,” he said.

Grateful the moment had passed, she nodded, sharing the same sentiment. She and Laura had always played house together. They’d always had dreams of a family. Now Laura’s dream had come true. “She’s exhausted but so happy. The baby is…glorious.”

Clint stared at her, searching her eyes with a bit of puzzlement. “Don’t tell me you’re the motherly kind, Tess.”

His doubts mingled with her misgivings and brought heaviness to her heart. She’d never really known her mother. She hadn’t known guidance and faith and patience that came from a mother’s love. She hadn’t been taught the finer points of womanhood. She’d been raised by a man who had belittled her constantly, making her feel ugly and stupid and unloved. She’d had an unholy family life. And when she’d grown older, she’d shot and killed her outlaw brother.

She often questioned what kind of mother she would make.

“No,” she said finally. “No, I’m not the motherly kind.”

Clint nodded. He seemed satisfied with her answer, as if she’d just affirmed his believed perception of her. The sting wounded her, and it was the kind of hurt that she couldn’t speak. Yet the pain wedged deep within.

She turned from Clint and made a move toward the house, but he grabbed her hand, and she whirled around.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, releasing her hand once he had her attention.

The unforgiving summer sun had blazed down all afternoon, making her wish for a cool drink and a refreshing bath. Anxious to get inside, away from Clint’s probing eyes, she shook her head. “Can’t it wait?”

He drew a long breath. “Don’t think so. It’s important.”

“Meet me inside in a few minutes.”

“No, we need to talk in private. Can’t afford anyone to hear what I have to say.”

Private?
Then it dawned on her. “Did you find out something I should know about?”

“Maybe.”

She heaved another sigh. Clint never gave an inch. She was forever trying to figure him out. “Where do you want to hold this private meeting?”

“Ride out to the creek with me.”

The creek? Cool, shaded waters hidden between ancient oaks. The thought did appeal. The heat of the day had managed to stick her clothes to her skin.

“I’ll saddle up the horses. Meet me here in twenty minutes.”

The pull of refreshing waters and Clint’s ominous meeting had her agreeing. She dashed into the house, climbing the stairs to her room. She undressed quickly, peeling away her sweat-stained dress, and bathed her skin in rose-scented water. The air inside her room stifled despite the lateness of the afternoon and the open window. Tess had learned to adjust to Texas heat, though she often thought of the cool northern California days that were fresh and crisp and nights that never grew heavy with humid air, the only good thing about her time in Turner Hill.

Feeling better now, she donned a lightweight blouse and her split riding skirt. Pulling her hair up at the nape of her neck, she secured it with a ribbon and then set a straw-brimmed hat onto her head.

Downstairs, she filled a jar with lemonade, and when she walked outside she found Clint waiting in front of the house holding the reins of two horses, Sunshine and Midnight.

She handed him the lemonade and watched as he placed it into a saddlebag and tightened the strap. He turned to her. “Ready?”

She nodded and mounted Sunshine with his help. Having him touch her was becoming far too familiar. Yet each brush of his hands brought a thrill to her system. She couldn’t escape it, though there were a thousand reasons she should.

Once she was seated with reins in hand, she watched him mount the gelding in one fluid movement, his leg lifting up and over until he sat upright, as if one with the animal. The slightest nudge from him sent Midnight into a walk. Sunshine followed and they headed away from the house, toward the creek.

She reminded herself this wasn’t a Sunday-afternoon ride with a beau. They wouldn’t picnic by the water and play silly games, laughing the afternoon away.

Yet she grew excited with anticipation and pretended, just for a time, that it were truly the case.

M
idnight led and Sunshine followed. The new mama mare was ready for light exercise. Clint made sure to keep an easy pace for Tess’s mount, and they followed a path leading them out of the yard, back behind the house, where tall green grass had faded and withered some from the summer sun. They rode through a wild-apple orchard and farther to where the path was worn and wide and easy to track even with untrained eyes.

He heard the rush of the creek first and breathed in the scent of fresh water next. The path opened up to a broad expanse of old, tired oaks. Twisted branches reached out and over the creek to touch and mingle with the neighboring trees on the opposite bank.

“My father,” he began, gazing out at the view before him, “wanted to have this creek on his property. He’d settled this parcel of land
because
of it. I haven’t seen it since I’ve been back.”

He didn’t know why he shared that with Tess. Usually he kept the history of the Double H to himself.

“Your father often spoke of it, Clint,” Tess said, reining Sunshine close. “When I met him he wasn’t strong enough to come here. After he died I came by myself once to see this place. It’s beautiful.”

“He married my mother here.”

Tess held her gaze steady on him, covering her surprise, but he’d seen the quick flicker in her eyes and the slight shift of her body atop the mare.

“Guess he forgot to tell you that. And all the promises he’d made my mother that day.”

Tess spoke quietly, “I knew this was a special place to him. He spoke fondly of this creek, Clint. Can’t you see that he did care about you and your mother?”

Clint held his tongue and rode deeper into the shaded area, where the ground sloped to the creek’s bank. He dismounted and turned to her. She was right behind and he helped her down, releasing her quickly, his emotions reeling.

He’d wanted Tess to see this place, where vows of love and honor had taken place. He’d wanted her with him the first time he came back here and he wasn’t certain why that was exactly.

“Why am I here?” she asked, directing those clear blue eyes at him asking him the same question he’d asked himself.

He walked to the creek’s bank and stared as the sun, laced through interlocking branches, cast a shimmer of light onto the low rushing waters. He shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”

He heard the sound of her footsteps and figured she’d retreated, back to Sunshine, ready to leave the creek.

But when he turned around, she stood before him, her face a picture of beautiful confusion. She spoke softly. “I don’t know that I trust you, either.”

“Fair enough,” he said, taking in the fragrant scent of roses. Flushed from heat, her cheeks were bright with color, and the few tendrils escaping the protection of her straw hat were moist at her nape. Clint had the urge to nibble on that area at the back of her neck and lick the small beads with his tongue.

His desire for her had nothing to do with trusting her. He understood they had doubts and misgivings regarding each other. “But if I were to tell you I’m not behind the sabotage at the ranch, could you believe me?”

Tess put her lips together and darted a glance toward the cool waters, contemplating. She lifted her gaze back to him. “I’m not sure.”

He’d expected that. “Hell, you’re honest…
about that.
”

Tess glanced away again and something again flickered in her eyes. Then she looked at him squarely. “Can you believe that I haven’t done anything to sabotage the ranch either?”

Clint cocked her a quick smile. “I’m trying.”

He walked over to Midnight and reached into his saddlebag. Lifting out the jar of lemonade, he unscrewed the top. Then he approached her again, offering up the lemonade and a bargain. “I think we should work together. Try to figure this out. That fire was a close call. It seems the attacks are getting more dangerous. And I’ve got a notion that whoever is doing this has firsthand knowledge of the ranch.”

She took the offered jar from his hands. “You believe it’s someone who works for the Double H?”

Clint nodded. “It makes sense. And it may be more than one person. They know how to hurt us and when to do it.”

“Do you have any idea who it is?”

Again he sent a smile her way. “You mean, now that I know it’s not you?”

“It’s not me,” she said without hesitation. She took a long sip of lemonade and handed the bottle back to him.

He looked at it and placed his mouth where hers had touched. The scent of her lingered on the bottle, and he drank up heartily, never remembering enjoying lemonade quite so much. “And it’s not me.”

Her brows bowed prettily. “I haven’t conceded that point yet.”

Setting the bottle back into the saddlebag, he scrubbed his jaw and took note of her stubborn nature. “Just listen up. It has to be someone who works on the Double H. An outsider would be too easily noticed. So we’re gonna have to watch everyone closely. I mean
everyone,
Tess.”

She closed her eyes briefly.

He took hold of her upper arms. “Can you do that?”

She stared at him and he saw a quick battle wage on her expression. Then she nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the ranch out of trouble.”

Though he’d gotten the answer he wanted, he frowned at her blind dedication to the ranch. It only made his cause more difficult. “Don’t let on what we’re doing. We want whoever’s doing this to make a mistake. It’s the only way we’ll catch them.”

Tess cast him a guarded look. “I hope you’re right. Not about the culprit being a trusted employee—I’d hate to see that. But this should stop before someone gets hurt.”

“You need to trust me, Tess.”

She’d been hurt, and the pain from the past went deep. That much Clint knew just from good instincts. But he needed her trust now if they were ever going to move on. While the problems at the ranch should have discouraged and weakened her, making his plan to buy her out more appealing, she’d dug her heels in and stood firm, stubbornly refusing to let it sway her.

“I’ll work with you, Clint. Because for once it seems we have the same purpose. But don’t ask any more of me right now. Until you understand I’ll never betray the promise I made your father, I
can’t
be on your side entirely.”

Clint freed her arms but kept a vigil on her face. “Agreed.”

She let go a shaky smile.

“We have a truce then?” He put out his hand.

A moment ticked by.

She set her hand in his, ready for the deal-making pump. But instead of a shake, he laced their fingers and squeezed gently. She gazed into his eyes, watching him. When she didn’t resist the contact, he lowered his mouth to hers, waiting for her retreat. Waiting to see if she’d pull away from him.

He’d been eager to hold her again, to feel the brush of her body against his. He’d kissed her once and determined it was too good not to do again.

“A truce,” she whispered.

He wound their entwined hands behind her back and tugged her closer. When he set his lips to hers he was greeted by soft, willing acceptance.

He covered her mouth, claiming her in a kiss that started out easy. She flowed into him, and her little moan of pleasure had him wanting to lay her down on the grassy slope.

He deepened the kiss, enjoying the taste of her, lemony-tart and soft and delicious. His senses reeled from her female fragrance that seemed to blend with the earth, the creek and the oaks. His groin reacted and he restrained his desire, taking his time, slowly bending her to his will.

She kissed him back until she was breathless, her hips moving in slow, passionate circles, pressing him, driving him toward the edge of insanity.

They mated their tongues and Clint tasted her more thoroughly, exploring the sweetness of her mouth. He moved his hands over her backside, stroking her, feeling the perfection of her round cheeks and cupping her in each palm.

“Clint,” she murmured.

It was neither a plea nor a warning but more a word spoken in awe. He felt the same as sensations rippled through him. He didn’t rush the feeling but savored each new exploration of her body.

He looked at her face, her eyes dewy, her cheeks flaming and her lips ripe and full. Clint had never wanted a woman more than he wanted Tess.

She was the enemy.

She was a woman who stood in the way of his goals.

But she was soft and giving and he knew he had to thread carefully. The restraint was killing him.

He took the hat off her head and tossed it aside. Then he untied the ribbon at the nape of her neck and spread her hair over her shoulders, watching silky strawberry strands cascade through his fingers.

He swallowed when he saw her breaths come quickly, her breathing as stirred up as his.

He flattened his palm to her throat, felt her rapid pulse there. Then he moved farther down, his fingers nimbly undoing the top button on her blouse. When she didn’t protest, Clint kissed her again and continued to unfasten each button. Placing his hands inside, he separated the material enough to reach up and pull the chemise straps down, exposing two plump, beautiful mounds of flesh.

He sucked in oxygen. Then looked into her eyes. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

She shook her head. Confusion and lust were a heady combination on the face of a gorgeous woman.

“I’m about to show you.”

She closed her eyes and Clint took that as her full compliance. He touched her breasts with open palms, splaying his fingers wide.

Pure desire raced through his body, igniting him to hot flames.

She snapped her eyes open with a look of hesitation. “Clint.”

“Don’t be afraid of me. You know this will only bring you pleasure.”

He planted tiny kisses on her lips and then thumbed over one nipple, making it peak to a rosy bud.

“I’m not afraid,” she breathed out.

“Good thing.” He kissed her again, then nibbled on her chin, her throat and lower, to the valley between her breasts.

When he took her into his mouth and suckled, she gasped aloud, and it wasn’t fear he heard but surprise and wonder.

He smiled to himself. He, too, was surprised at the intensity of his desire, but his only wonder was at how he’d managed to keep away from her, from doing this, for so long. He’d rather set her down on a soft feather bed, but the shaded green grass wasn’t such a terrible alternative, not when he had a willing woman in his arms.

He unbuttoned his shirt, longing to feel her delicate fingers slide across his chest, and once the shirt was off, he set her hands on him. “Touch me, Tess.”

She stared at him for a moment, and he encouraged her with a slight nod and, covering her hands, showed her what he wanted.

She moved her hands over him tentatively, unsure of her actions, it seemed, but her slight hesitations only added to his rising desire, making him want more.

“It’s gonna be good between us, honey.”

He tried to slip her blouse from her shoulders, but she gripped it tight and shook her head as if she’d just come to some stark, dreadful realization. “No, I can’t do this.”

Clint struggled with impatience. “We’re partway there, Tess. Don’t deny what you want.”

“Oh, God,” she said, biting her lip and pulling up her chemise straps, covering her luscious body.

“You want this as much as I do.”

Her silence was enough to convince him.

“I’m not a bully, Tess. If you haven’t been with a man in a while, I’ll be tender.” He wouldn’t bring his father’s name into this conversation, though he suspected she might have had other lovers before Hoyt—and maybe after him, as well.

Tess blinked. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re
sorry?
” Clint nearly choked at her apology.

“Yes,” she said quietly, her eyes welling with tears.

Clint couldn’t take a woman’s tears. They brought him to his knees. Right now he was damn frustrated and confused, and Tess crying would only irritate him more. “Hell, don’t cry!”

She stopped her tears as if she’d drawn on some past memory on how to do it. Quickly and obediently. Clint knew she’d had a rough young life, but it was even more evident now, seeing her retreat both physically and emotionally.

She’d tempted him beyond reason and sanity. She’d let him touch her in ways that she knew would lead to only one thing. If it had been an act, then she would earn an award for a convincing performance, because she’d responded to him like a woman ready to be taken.

Had she enticed him deliberately, giving him notions of bedding her to tempt and torture him? Was she that devious and cunning? He gritted his teeth. “You little tease. Is this what you do? Tempt a man into heaven to get what you want? Is that how you got my father to marry you?”

“I’m not a tease,” she said defiantly, her eyes snapping wide, blazing hot. “And I’m through explaining my relationship with Hoyt to you.”

She’d refastened her blouse in the time she’d taken to say those words. Her hair mussed, her lips swollen, she kept her head down as she walked away, refusing to look at him as she mounted Sunshine.