Lorraine Heath (30 page)

“You sure are a polite one,” she said.

He turned his head slightly, giving her a small smile. “So I’ve been told.”

His smile tore at her heart and she wondered how anyone could have ever hurt him.

Jake stood, tucking the ends of his shirt back into his pants before setting his hat down low on his head and walking to the door. He stopped beside the dresser, shoved a hand down into his pocket and brought up two more dollars to set down beside the first two. What a hell of a way for a woman to make a living, having to take whatever man was standing next in line.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said as he opened the door.

“You come back and see me, darlin’.”

Jake tipped his hat slightly before closing the door behind
him, knowing he would never come back. He was not certain if it had been worse than he’d remembered or if it was just that he had experienced something so much finer with Reb, something that went deeper than the physical act. For the remainder of his life everything else would pale in comparison.

S
ITTING
IN
THE
center of the bed, Rebecca watched as Jacob pulled himself up to his feet and peered over the edge of the mattress, smiling at her. He cocked his head at the sound of approaching boots hitting the floor outside the room, then scurried hand over hand, foot over foot around the bed. He was positioned so Rebecca had a clear view of his face when the door opened. She felt an ache in her heart as his smile faded and he drew his dark brows together, a habit he had acquired which meant he was thinking hard, trying to fathom some unknown part of his world. He crawled across the room, pulling himself back up to his feet before the window and flattening his nose against the pane.

Brett dropped a package at Rebecca’s feet, and her attention was diverted from her son. The white paper was wrapped tightly over the box, the paper’s edges crisp and sharp at the corners, coming together perfectly. A large red satin bow rested in the middle of the package, streamers flowing out from it.

“Well, come on, open it,” Brett commanded, and Rebecca could not disobey, the temptation to see what lay in the perfectly wrapped box too great.

The wrapping came off, followed by the top of the box. She moved tissue aside to reveal a white blouse with delicately embroidered flowers around the collar and down the front. Beneath the blouse was a split riding skirt with the same flowers embroidered around the hem.

“And what am I do with this,” she asked, “when I’m forbidden to ride?” She used the word “forbidden” teasingly. Brett did not.

“You’re not forbidden to ride, only to act like a cowhand. Try it on and we’ll see if it works.”

She arched a brow and he feigned a look of defeat.

“All right, I’ll leave this time. But once we’re married, you’ll have to dress and undress in front of me every day.”

He walked out, and Rebecca moved to crouch down beside her son. “Who are you looking for, Jacob? Who is it that you miss so much?” She gazed out the window along with her son, thinking it ironic that this particular window faced south. “I miss him, too,” she whispered.

Donning the new clothes, she was surprised to find them a perfect fit. She looked at her slim figure in the mirror. Her breasts had returned to her pre-pregnancy size, her milk having dried up when she left Pleasure, no doubt a result of the emotional turmoil she had put herself through. It had made for a cranky Jacob on the train and prevented Brett from forming a close bond with his son in those first few days. Or at least that’s what Rebecca blamed Brett’s aloofness on. In truth, she knew Brett’s interests did not include children. From afar, he adored his son, but up close he was tolerant and not overly affectionate.

She ran her hand along her flat stomach. Shortly after they’d arrived in Montana, she’d discovered she wasn’t pregnant. An emptiness, an aching disappointment had assailed her. Not until that moment had she realized how much she was hoping that she was indeed carrying Jake’s child. She shook away the unsettling thought. She would have other children.

But none would have brown eyes. None would wear a lopsided smile.

When she stepped out of the house, she found herself in a strong embrace, twirled around, set down, and glanced upon appraisingly.

“Lord, Rebecca, you are beautiful. And now to go with that new outfit, you need a horse.” He bowed, extending an arm, and Rebecca followed the direction of his hand.
Standing before them, saddled and ready to ride, was Brett’s brown stallion and a white mare.

“White for the purity of your body when I first met you,” Brett explained as he helped her mount. The thoroughbred animal was beautiful, Rebecca had to admit to herself. Still, she preferred a black horse, but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

They rode at an easy canter across his land until he led her up a tree-covered rise. From their position, they could see all that was his, his cattle in the distance, his land, even his home as the sun reflected off of it. Rebecca dismounted, tethered her horse, and leaned back against the rough bark of a tree. It was a beautiful sight, the deep blue sky coming down to meet the deep green earth.

Brett came to stand before her, bracing an arm above her head, running a finger down her cheek.

“I’ve seen too much sadness in your eyes since you’ve been here, Rebecca. Do you miss Kentucky?”

Kentucky? She hadn’t missed Kentucky since she had left the state. But Texas, she missed Texas. No, it wasn’t even Texas she missed. She shook her head.

“No.”

His knuckles brushed her cheek, his face full of concern. “Was it hard on you when I left?”

“For a while,” she responded honestly. Until Jake had taken her in his embrace.

“I would have taken you with me if I’d known,” he said. “I love you, Rebecca.” He slipped his arms around her, bringing her up against his hardened frame. She put her arms around his neck, her lips pressing against his as his tongue sought to mate with hers. His chest and shoulders were broader, sturdier than Jake’s, his straight hair clipped shorter so when she ran her fingers up through it, no curls possessively wrapped around her fingers. The kiss ended and she pressed her forehead against his chest, wishing just once she could be with him and not think of Jake.

He moved, one arm staying around her as he led her to the quilt he had laid down earlier, food scattered at one end of it. Gratefully, she sat down, anticipating a picnic. They
ate in silence, watching the serene scene surrounding them. From time to time, he would reach over and touch her, her hand, her cheek, her hair. When they finished eating, he put everything away and then, stretching out on his side, he reached into his pocket and brought out another perfectly wrapped gift and handed it to her. “What’s this?” she asked.

He laughed. “If I’d wanted you to know right away, I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of having it wrapped, now would I? Open it.”

Inside, she found a ring of diamonds and emeralds nestled together in a tiny cluster. She looked from the ring to his face, seeing his love for her reflected in his eyes. Love in eyes of blue, somehow different from love in eyes of brown. He sat up.

“It occurred to me that my telling you to meet me at the hotel or never see me again was anything but romantic.” He took her hand. “I love you, Rebecca. Will you marry me?”

There had been no intake of a shaky breath, no lowering of his voice so if she were offended they could both pretend the words had never been spoken. She saw no doubt in his eyes as to what her answer would be, saw that he really required no answer. The question was stated simply so in later years she would have the memory of his asking.

“Sometimes,” Rebecca said softly, “I’m not sure it is me you love. Sometimes, I think you love the girl you left in Kentucky.”

“They’re one in the same.”

“No, Brett, they’re not. The girl you left in Kentucky had grown up surrounded by nothing but love and kindness. As much as Father prepared me to take over the running of his ranch, he protected me from the ugliness in the world. In the past year, I’ve known my father’s unforgiving anger. I’ve seen a young man branded because we put barbed wire around our land, a man die for a brother he once hated.”

“But the ugliness is all in the past. Look around you, darling, all there is, all you can see for miles is the future.
Our future. Slip your ring on one of those beautiful fingers of yours.”

She slid it onto the finger of her right hand. Brett squeezed her hand. “It’s supposed to go on your left hand so it’s close to your heart.”

“Not until I’m officially divorced.”

“You are a stubborn woman, Rebecca. The divorce is inevitable. You set the wheels in motion for it before you left Texas. Just as our marriage is inevitable. Just as our making love that night so long ago was inevitable. Just as this is inevitable.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, bringing his lips to hers, laying her down in the process.

His mouth covered hers possessively, his tongue claiming the regions that another’s had dared to touch. He wanted to cleanse the image of Jake Burnett from her memory. How had the man managed to get such a hold on her? Why wouldn’t she let him go?

His labored breathing resounded near her ear. “I want you so badly, Rebecca. Please, love, don’t deny me this time.”

She heard the want, the desire, the pleading tone in his voice, and she wondered if he had ever pleaded with any woman. Her lips ached from his passionate kiss, her body trembled from his closeness, so she was surprised the words came out with such ease.

“No, Brett. Not this time.”

His body collapsed in defeat upon hers, and he wondered if she was even aware of the real reason why she continued to deny him. “But it’s all inevitable. Why can’t you accept that? Why can’t you let go of the past today and let us begin the future?”

“Because I’m not the girl you left in Kentucky.”

He lifted his head from where he had buried it in her hair and, gazing deeply into eyes of blue, he said, “I love you anyway.”

Frank stood before the altar, afraid he’d suffocate before the ceremony was over. He had never worn a suit before, and he wouldn’t be wearing one now if Arlene hadn’t looked at him with blue eyes. Her eyes had taken to turning
blue of late, and the expression she carried within them melted him until he’d do any damn thing she wanted. He stretched his neck, trying to ease his discomfort, grateful Jake was beside him just in case he passed out.

The organ music began, and Ruth Reading began walking slowly down the aisle of the church. Ironically, she and Arlene had become the best of friends, but Frank barely paid her a glance. His eyes were fixed on the woman who was following Ruth. Arlene walked with her arm wrapped around her father’s, her white dress flowing along behind her, her eyes a deep blue. Frank forgot all about his promise to himself to stand staid and serious and not appear to be some overanxious boy, and his face broke out into a broad smile. Arlene returned his smile, and he forgot all about the uncomfortable suit he was wearing, wanting only to make her proud of him.

Standing just behind Frank, Jake thought of Rebecca wearing her mother’s wedding dress. Too many things still reminded him of her, but he supposed they always would. All he could do was learn to accept the memories and enjoy them whenever they showed up unexpectedly. He listened to the couple as they exchanged their vows, similar to but different from the ones he had taken: theirs wouldn’t be broken. He handed Frank the gold band and watched as he placed the ring on Arlene’s slender finger and enfolded her in his embrace, kissing her tenderly as the minister proclaimed them man and wife.

Following the service, Jake went to retrieve the buggy for Frank. He came around the corner of the church building, stopping short at the sight of four women, tipping his hat towards the one he recognized.

“Miss Velvet.”

“Lord, darlin’. You’re the only man in this state who would tip his hat to a whore.” She ushered the other women along and stopped beside Jake. “You haven’t been back to see me, darlin’.”

“No, ma’am.”

“You won’t be coming back to see me, will you?” He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I won’t.”

She smiled, a warm, pretty smile. “It’s just as well. A man like you, darlin’, shouldn’t have to pay a woman. You take care of yourself now, you hear?”

He returned her smile. “Yes, ma’am. I will.”

She reached out, touching the raised corner of his mouth with the tip of her finger. “Lord, darlin’, I don’t know how any woman could walk away from that smile.”

The inside of the barn was geared to a celebration. At one end band members were tuning their instruments. Jake smiled as Maura approached.

“I canna thank you enough for this fine celebration you’re a-giving my Arlene and her Frank.”

“It was the least I could do. Frank’s a good man. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Aye. A good man, he is. My Bri wouldn’t have given his blessing had the boy not been deserving of it.”

The band began the first tune, and Frank led his wife out into the center of the barn and began waltzing her around. Jake nodded towards Maura.

“I think Brian is looking for you.”

Maura laughed. “I haven’t danced in so long, don’t know if I remember how to move my feet.” But when Brian took her in his arms, she did remember.

Jake stepped back against the wall, watching the couples dance, feeling the acute absence of a hand into which he could slip his.

He wandered outside to the corral. The horses pranced, seemingly in time to the music that was filtering outside. “Frank’s me brother now.”

Jake looked down at the young cowboy who had followed him. “Reckon he is at that,” he said as he bent his long legs to get to Sean’s height so he could gaze through the same slats as his young friend.

Sean kicked the dirt beneath his boots. “If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell me mum?”

Jake studied the boy. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to keep secrets from your mother.”

The boy nodded acceptance of the truth and took to studying the horses with great intensity.