Texas Secrets (10 page)

He shouldn't want anything to do with her. She asked too many questions about a past he wanted to forget. Made him think too much about feelings that did no good.

She would open up Pandora's box and then leave for New York, and he would be left here to try to shove everything back inside and slam the box shut.

Heading for the shower this morning, he saw that her door was open, her bed empty. As his path neared the stairwell, he could smell baking bread.

The woman was lethal. She twisted him in knots just with her looks and then played dirty with her cooking. They weren't playing house, damn it.

He stood with the shower beating down on his head and tried to ignore the traces of Maddie's presence. The perfume of her soap rose in the heated air. A basket of sponges and lotions stood on a stool by the tub. As he scrubbed at a body already worn out by a restless night, a vision of her naked under this same shower taunted him.

He turned the shower to cold.

By the time he got downstairs he had worked up a fine head of steam, but she wasn't in the kitchen to serve as his target.

He realized where she probably was. Doing impossible things with that lithe body on the porch.

His porch, damn it.

Boone grabbed a cup of the coffee that had just finished perking. Swearing ripely, he burned his tongue by sipping too quickly.

It was suicidal to skip breakfast, as much physical labor as he did in a day. He turned and headed for the barns, anyway.

And there she was, on the porch facing the sunrise, her body stretching as if to greet the sky, her movements slow and graceful.

He hesitated, wanting to watch, just for a minute.

And then she turned.

And smiled. "Good morning."

"Mornin'."

"The bread is almost done."

He had to cut this off now, before it went too far. "I told you not to cook for me."

The peaceful glow dimmed. "I didn't make it for you, but I'm willing to share it."

Back to kicking puppies, Boone?
"I have to go." He turned to leave.

"With no breakfast?"

"Last I looked, I'd been taking care of myself for a few years."

One glance back showed a parade of emotions—hurt, chagrin...the beginnings of anger.

Good. An armed camp was far safer.

"Fine." She squared her shoulders. "If you change your mind, it will be there."

When Maddie turned away, it should have made Boone feel better.

It didn’t. As she moved into the next posture, he felt like a kid who'd been sent to the corner, robbed of the fun the others were having.

But he'd sent himself there.

She made him crazy. She made him feel too much. He didn't know how to hold her at a safe distance when she was so damned easygoing. Or how to like himself for trying.

"Thanks for the coffee."

Maddie just nodded and kept going.

Boone headed to the barns, head fuzzy from lack of sleep and stomach empty of everything but a sour taste, knowing he had no one to blame but himself.

* * *

An hour later, Boone saw Maddie walk into the barn with a basket and look around. Jim stepped out of a stall close by and grinned from ear to ear.

"Well, good morning to you, Maddie." Jim sniffed appreciatively.

"Hi, Jim. How are you today?" Maddie returned the smile. She glanced around and spotted Boone. Her smile dimmed.

"I was okay, but by the smell of that basket, I'm hoping I'm about to get a lot better."

"It's cinnamon-oatmeal bread. I don't think Boone had time for breakfast, but even if he did, I thought you and Sonny might enjoy bread fresh from the oven." She shot Boone a sassy glance that dared him to complain.

"Hell—I mean, heck, Maddie, I hope Boone is so stuffed he can't take a bite. It smells great." Without hesitation, he dipped his hand inside. One bite, and he closed his eyes in bliss. "Take me now, Lord. It can't get better than this."

Boone listened to Maddie's laughter and couldn't help smiling himself. His stomach rumbled, and he turned back to the horse he was checking.

"Don't go anywhere, Maddie. I have to feed one more horse. Boone, you stay right where you are until I eat my fill, you hear?"

When Jim walked away, Maddie looked down the barn, straight at Boone. "It's foolish for you to turn this down. You work too hard every day to miss breakfast just because you're afraid of me."

The woman definitely had a mouth on her.

Boone stepped out of the stall, latching the door, and snorted. "The day I'm afraid of you is the day the sun comes up in the west."

Maddie smirked. "Then you'll have some, I take it."

His stomach was yelling at him to dive into that basket, but he held back.

She sobered. "I know this is awkward, Boone. The whole situation is not what either of us wants, but we just have to make the best of it. You don't need to like me for us to get along."

Beside her now, Boone's hand stopped in mid-air. "I never said I disliked you." Hell, he liked too much about her.

The quick flare of something dark and almost hurt in her eyes surprised him.

But before he could figure out what to say next, she opened the cloth covering the basket and held the basket closer to him, changing the subject. "So these are your horses?"

Boone's mouth was too full of heaven for him to do more than nod.

She glanced at Slow Dance, the palomino stallion on which he was hoping to build his future. "Who is that? He's really handsome, isn't he?"

Boone swallowed. "You ride?"

Maddie smiled, almost bashful. "No, but I've always thought it would be wonderful."

"You don't want to try one like Slow Dance for your first horse. He's pretty even-tempered for a stallion, but that's not saying much."

"You'd let me ride one?" Her eyes were wide as saucers.

Oh, hell. What had he just done? When what he most needed was to stay as far away from her as possible, here he'd gone and opened the door to spending more time together.

But he couldn't take it back now, not when she looked so thrilled. You'd think he'd handed her diamonds from Tiffany's.

He could make it Jim's job, and he probably should. But something within him balked at the thought of not being the first one to see Maddie's delight, if it meant that much to her.

"It's okay, Boone. I understand. You're too busy."

Boone focused on her and saw the disappointment cloud her sparkle. A man who would dim Maddie's glow ought to be shot.

"I can make some time, if you can be flexible."

Maddie lit up like the sun at noonday. "You just tell me when."

Her gaze on him was so warm and soft that Boone's own gaze lingered while a thousand thoughts danced in his head. Her lips were slightly parted, her breasts rising and falling in the rhythm of her excitement. Boone wanted more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life to take her to the ground, right then and there. To seek within Maddie the warmth that his cold, dark soul craved with a hunger deeper than he had ever felt.

"Hoo-ey, Maddie girl, I'm dying for another taste of that—" Jim stopped in his tracks.

Maddie stepped back from Boone, her cheeks flaming.

Boone turned away, not sure whether to thank Jim or strangle him.

Maddie rose to the occasion. "Boone's going to teach me to ride, Jim. Isn't that exciting?"

Boone caught Jim's startled glance out of the corner of his eye. When Jim's weathered face began to crease into a knowing grin, Boone shot him a glare that should have fried him where he stood.

But Jim just grinned bigger. "Well now, that's real fine, Maddie. There's no one better to teach you than Boone here. He's the finest horseman any of us ever saw."

Boone felt Maddie's gaze studying him and was surprised when his own cheeks warmed.

"I noticed how gentle your hands were on that colt. I was impressed, Boone. I thought cowboys broke horses with spurs and that sort of thing."

Boone turned. "That's the old way, and some people still use it. I prefer to let a horse believe that it's his idea to work together. There's no need to break his spirit. You start him early before he knows his own strength, and you teach him to trust you. He needs to respect you and know you mean business, but it's not your business to be mean."

Boone stopped. He was talking too much.

But Maddie's eye sparkled with curiosity...and glowed with warmth. "That's beautiful. It was wonderful to watch you with him."

For a moment it was like standing on the edge of a magic circle, a private space he could share with Maddie if he'd take another step or two. But he sensed Jim watching them both avidly while snatching another slice of bread.

Whether or not he could keep himself away from her as he knew he surely should, Boone wasn't conducting the dance with Maddie in public.

So he pushed her away with words. "I've got to get back to work."

Her shoulders hunched as if absorbing a blow, but very quickly she squared her posture and shook that mane of hair. "Of course. I need to get on to the garden, anyway. I'll just leave the bread right here." She turned away and set the basket on a shelf nailed to the wall.

Jim glared at him, but Boone refused to respond. It was what had to happen, damn it. He couldn't let go with her.

He would do his best to get along, and he would teach her to ride as he'd teach any other student. But he would use the control that had kept his head on straight in the midst of danger, he would use the discipline that had marked his life for years, and he would keep his hands off Maddie Rose Collins.

If it killed him.

But as he watched her walk away toward the garden, he couldn't quite hold the line. "Maddie," he called out.

The dark hair swung, glistening in the morning light as she turned.

"Maybe tomorrow we can start your lessons."

Her smile was quick, her nod enthusiastic, before she turned back and walked away.

Maddie forgave too easily. And it seemed he was always doing something that needed forgiving.

"Maddie," Jim called out.

She turned back once more. "Have all you want, Jim."

"Oh, I intend to, but that's not what I was gonna ask. Are you going to let Boone here take you to the rodeo dance tonight?"

Her whole face lit up. "A rodeo dance?"

He would kill Jim the minute Maddie was out of sight.

"Yep. Ever been to one?"

Her dark hair swung as she shook her head. "No, but I love to dance." Then she went very still. "But Boone doesn't have to take me. Just tell me where to find it."

Boone bit down on a groan. "I guess I can take you."

Maddie's shoulders went stiff. "I'm a big girl. I can go by myself. I've lived in New York. Morning Star can't be too tough." She looked away from Boone. "Can you give me the directions, Jim?"

Jim muttered under his breath. "Sure I can. But I'll do you one better. Velda and I will pick you up and take you."

Maddie's smile was tentative. "Would Velda mind?"

"Aw, hell—I mean, heck, no. Velda would love havin' a woman to chatter to."

Her smile reached full wattage. "Then thank you. I'd love to go."

"We'll pick you up at seven. You like barbecue?"

"You bet." Maddie hesitated. "Well, I guess I'd better get to work in the garden. Thank you, Jim." She pointedly ignored Boone.

"Thank you for the bread. We'll see you this evenin'."

When Maddie was out of sight, Jim turned on him. "You're a damn fool, Boone Gallagher."

Boone shot him a quick glance, then headed to saddle up Slow Dance. "I didn't ask you."

"You hurt that little gal's feelings. How hard is it to take her to the dance?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"She could be the best thing that ever happened to you."

"She won't stay."

"How do you know?"

"I know."

"Because she's from the city, like Helen? You didn't cause Helen's problems."

"She'd be alive if not for me."
And so would my baby
.

"Maddie isn't Helen."

Boone rounded on him. "She's on a vacation, Jim. Anything can be fun for a little while. She's got restaurants in New York begging for her to come back up there. Why would she want to be stuck on a ranch in Morning Star?"

"Nobody said you had to marry her. Just enjoy her while she's here."

Boone's temper spiked. "Don't you go talking like Maddie is only good for a quick roll in the hay. She deserves better than that."

Then Jim smiled and shook his head. "I never said she didn't. So give her better."

"I'm not condemning another woman to a life she would hate."

"Damn, but I'm going to be glad when she leaves, even though I'll miss her. You're like a lion with a thorn in his paw, and it ain't gonna get any better until you do something about it."

"There's nothing to do, Jim, except wait. She'll be gone soon enough. And so will you if you don't get back to work."

Jim snorted. "Like you think you could run this place without me." His grin didn't fade.

"Go away and leave me alone. I've got work to do."

Jim started to turn, then hesitated. "If you got any sense in that head of yours, you'll be at that dance tonight. I can't keep watch over Maddie and Velda both, and you and I both know Maddie's going to be a powerful temptation to those cowboys."

Boone curled his lip. "It's not my business. She said it herself—she's a big girl."

Jim watched him for a minute, then he started chuckling. "You know, this is gonna be fun to watch, is all I got to say. That is, if we don't kill you first."

Boone shot him a glare. "I only wish I could believe that was all you had to say. The day you quit jawin' at me is the day we put you in the ground. Now go away."

Jim tipped his hat and walked away, whistling.

* * *

Maddie paused in pulling weeds in the garden when she saw Boone and Slow Dance leave the barn. When they moved into a gallop across the pasture, it was a sight that she knew she'd never forget.

Golden man and golden horse. The two moved together as if formed from one flesh. It was a ballet of rugged strength, smooth and sinuous, Boone's strong thighs and the horse's muscled flanks making the breath catch in her throat. She felt as though she'd stepped back in time, like Boone and the horse and the land were part of one another. The sight stirred her at a deep, primal level, and she watched them until she could see them no more.