Cassandra Austin (16 page)

Christian glanced toward the pen where Emily was working with the liver chestnut gelding. “Check and see if Emily wants you to relieve her first,” he said. “If you work with the mare, don’t let her bite you.”

Jacob nodded and headed for the pen. As Christian and Lynnette moved on toward the barn, she asked, “The mare bites?”

He shrugged. “Women.”

She scowled at him, but her eyes were dancing. “She’s the light brown one, right?”

“Dun,” he corrected.

“Dun. And the black horse with her at the tank is the one you were riding the other night.”

“
Trying
to ride. I’ll try again this afternoon.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Her smile had vanished, and he wished he hadn’t mentioned it. No, he decided, it was just as well. He needed something to put a little distance between them.

At Trooper’s stall, Lynnette wasn’t content to watch him rub down the horse. She had to do it as well. There was no way to show her without standing next to her, guiding her hand, inhaling the scent of her hair. Trooper got the most thorough rubdown he had experienced in his life.

At one point he heard Emily muttering to herself as she led the other gelding to his stall. She didn’t ask
for his help so he ignored her. Instead, he gave himself up to this stolen opportunity, reveling in every chance touch or glance. He even allowed himself to imagine, just for the moment, that she was feeling the same attraction he felt, that it was desire that brought her breath in little puffs between parted lips, that it was love that gave her eyes their shine.

When he heard Emily leave the other gelding, he knew it was time to quit. “Now you’re an expert,” he said softly, taking the brush from her hand.

She turned her face up and smiled at him. He thought her eyes were misty, but she turned away too quickly to be sure.

“I should go in,” she said.

“Wait.” It was out of his mouth before he even thought. “I wanted you to see Elayne. Besides, your tour of the barn isn’t over until you’ve seen the lowest level.”

She seemed reluctant, her judgment being better than his, he thought. Still she relented. He led her to a ladder in the corner of the barn and started down. He enjoyed the view once again as she climbed down after him. He more than half hoped she would slip and let him catch her.

He showed her through the isolation stalls that occupied about half of the lowest level. At the outside wall he opened a window by raising the hinged panel and fastening it to the hook overhead. From here they could watch the horses in the corral.

“The other half of this level is open shelter,” he explained as she came to lean on the sill beside him. “The black there. That’s Elayne.”

“She’s beautiful. Are you going to break all these horses? There’s more than a dozen.”

“Nineteen. But I won’t break them all. Some buyers prefer to break their own. Besides, there are three new colts and their mamas. I can leave them alone for a while. There are only three horses old enough to start real training. I’ll probably start breaking them this summer.”

“When you’ve broken the stallion.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Or he’s broken me.” Considering her opinion of his methods, she wouldn’t think it was funny. “I may let him have his way,” he said instead. “I keep thinking he’d make a great mount, but he may be more stubborn than I am.”

“What will happen to him if you give up?”

A little colt had noticed their presence and came closer to investigate. He watched Lynnette’s profile as she reached a hand toward the baby.

“We’ll keep him for stud.” This was not considered a proper discussion for mixed company, but she didn’t seem horrified.

“Maybe he knows that’s the option,” she said, turning her grin from the colt to him. One eyebrow danced upward. “And that’s why he’s so stubborn.”

He had no ready quip for that. He watched her turn back to the colt that had taken one more hesitant step forward.

They heard Emily’s long call from near the house. “I better go,” Lynnette said.

Christian unhooked the panel and lowered it back into place. “We can get out here,” he said. He led her
out a door and up a path between the corral and the windmill.

He stopped and watched Lynnette and Emily walk toward each other. Lynnette turned once to look at him over her shoulder. He raised his hand in a brief wave. He felt a loss as acute as if she had just ridden out of his life.

“I wondered where you were,” Emily said.

“Christian was showing me the horses in the lower corral,” Lynnette answered, though she knew that was probably obvious.

“I wanted to let you know I was going in. I checked, and Rose is through…uh…napping.”

“I’m sure she’ll be glad for your company again. Thanks for showing me through the barn.”

Emily nodded. “I’ll see you at lunch.” She turned and trotted toward the house.

Lynnette watched her go. She didn’t want to follow. It was still a couple of hours before lunchtime. But she had no real excuse to stay outside. She had seen all of the barn and had imposed on Christian more than she had any right to. Still it was too nice a day, and she was filled with too much tension to want to return to her room.

She turned around slowly and found Christian standing where she had left him a moment before. She was far enough away that his face was hard to read, but she imagined it reflected some deep sorrow—directed toward Emily, she supposed.

He turned quickly and moved to the stallion that
still waited at the tank. The horse nuzzled against him, and he rubbed the sleek black neck affectionately.

She didn’t know when she started moving, but she found herself standing near enough to touch the stallion. “He doesn’t seem wild,” she said.

Christian barely glanced at her. There was a distance between them now that hadn’t been there before. “He’s gentled down a lot during the past week,” he said.

His eyes were on the lead rope as he untied it. The horse nudged his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward. He caught the halter in one hand and worked on the rope with the other. The horse tossed his head, trying to shake off the hand.

Lynnette stepped back, alarmed at the horse’s behavior. “Perhaps I’m making him nervous,” she said. “I think I’ll take a quick walk before lunch. I won’t go far.”

She started toward the path that skirted the far side of the barn. She could hear Christian speaking softly to the horse, “Sure, now you’re my best friend.”

It reminded her of his voice close to her ear as he instructed her and calmed her fears. He had stood so close she had been afraid her knees would buckle. They had, in fact, at one point, and she had fallen into his arms.

Her knees trembled now as she walk faster, needing to burn off the energy that coiled inside her. Dear Lord! While they had rubbed down the horse, she had pretended that his tone was meant for her, his soft words were endearments whispered in her ears. She had never wanted anyone to touch her the way she
wanted Christian to. She wanted his gentle hands to slide over every part of her.

When the buildings were no longer in sight behind her, she crumbled to the ground, burying her face in her hands as she tried to catch her breath. She had felt his breath fan against her cheek. Each brush of his arm against her shoulder or his thigh against her leg had fed the fire inside her.

And they hadn’t all been accidental touches. She had actively worked at leaning into him, moving subtly against him. And he hadn’t moved away from her touch. In fact, she thought she had seen an answering fire in his eyes when he looked at her. She had convinced herself that he felt it, too.

Now she was ashamed. She had promised herself she wouldn’t let Christian know about her feelings. She wouldn’t complicate his life when there was no hope for them. But deep in her selfish heart, she wanted to know that he loved her, too.

She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. Had she imagined the warmth in his gaze? Had his attentiveness been mere politeness? Away from him, that was easy to believe. Did her love completely blind her to everything except what she wanted to see?

She got to her feet and dusted off the denim pants. She should go back. She would need to get cleaned up before Arlen saw her. A bath would probably be a good idea so he didn’t detect the scent of sunshine and horses on her skin. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting a smile curve her lips. She smelled like Christian. He had a scent all his own, and she had
been close enough to detect it. The memory of it was enough to make her dizzy.

She opened her eyes, resolving to get control of herself. She would go back and get ready for lunch. Somehow she would act as if nothing unusual had happened. And she absolutely had to talk to Arlen this afternoon.

Lynnette tried to still her screaming nerves as she came down the stairs for lunch. She was clean and fresh; Arlen could have no complaints. She had even washed her hair, afraid that it might have absorbed too much outdoor scent. In the interest of saving time, and cooling her blood, she hadn’t heated the water. As she dressed, the memories of Christian seemed to warm her more than sufficiently.

It was, of course, Christian she worried about seeing. What did he think of her behavior this morning? Had she flirted with him? She couldn’t even remember what looks she might have given him. She remembered every detail on his part, but not her own.

All but Arlen had assembled when she entered the dining room. Upon seeing her, Hugh directed everyone to their chairs. “Arlen asked for a tray in the study,” he said.

In moments the meal was begun. She found herself next to Christian again. He had brought in all the outdoor scents, filling her with remembered feelings. She tried to shove them aside, to save them until she was alone.

She had no interest in conversation, though she tried to respond when spoken to. Emily was talkative as
usual, describing how hard she had worked this morning. Rose seemed preoccupied, but Lynnette assumed she still wasn’t feeling well.

Christian, when she dared to glance in his direction, seemed lost in thought. She wished she could read his mind. She thanked God he couldn’t read hers. He ate quickly and excused himself, as always taking his dishes with him to the kitchen.

Once he was gone, she had no desire to stay. “I believe I’ll check on Arlen,” she said. Hugh excused her, and she rose to leave. As she came around the table, she caught a glimpse of the girls’ faces. Emily scowled, and Rose looked disappointed.

They knew! They knew about her attraction to Christian. She hadn’t been able to hide it. Emily must hate her for betraying one brother with the other. And Rose. Poor Rose was probably in love with Christian herself. At least those two people would be glad to see her go.

At the door to the study, she steeled herself and knocked. There was a long pause before Arlen finally answered.

He swung the door open. “Lynnette.” He seemed surprised to see her.

His reaction threw her. “I came…ah…to see if you needed anything.” She nodded toward the tray on the edge of the desk.

“No, no, I’m fine.”

She took a step into the room, though he didn’t invite her. She had to collect herself. “Arlen, I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, dear. I’m sorry. I did promise we would spend
the afternoon together. But I got so little done this morning. There were…distractions. I need to study these things undisturbed.”

“I understand.” She didn’t want to spoil everything for him next week. Her refusal to marry him would surely be more than a distraction. She would have to wait until his studying was done and hope it didn’t ruin his concentration at the actual meetings. “I’ll leave you alone then,” she said.

“Thank you, darling.” She had started out the door when he stopped her. “I almost forgot I picked these up for you yesterday.” He lifted a small stack of letters off the desk and brought them to her.

She nodded her thanks and left the room. When the door was closed behind her, she looked down at the letters, not wanting to believe what she thought she had glimpsed. The upper left-hand corner of the top letter said “Julian Taggart.”

Dearest Lynnette,

It seems you’ve run away from me. Imagine my disappointment to call and find the house deserted. And I thought we understood each other. But no matter. I’ve finally found you. Did you really think I wouldn’t? Come back to me, little one. Don’t make me come and get you. You should never have tried to keep
secrets
from me.

With undying love,

Julian Taggart

P.S. I long to fold you in my arms and swear my eternal love.

L
ynnette’s hands trembled as she refolded the letter. The last was a quote from
Passion’s Secret.
He knew, and he had found her. He was going to cause some sort of trouble. It didn’t matter. She would be leaving soon, though she didn’t know where, certainly not back to Topeka. Not now.

There were two more letters. One from Amanda and
another from Taggart, posted four days after the first. She couldn’t bring herself to open his second letter. She broke the seal on Amanda’s instead.

Amanda, bless her, had written a cheerful letter full of trivialities. She had attended this tea and that cotillion. And at the end of the letter, the best news possible. She was expecting a child.

Lynnette read the letter through again, using it to block out the other. She was delighted for her friend. Romantic, frivolous Amanda with a little child! That was something she dearly wanted to see.

But would she? Would she ever dare visit her friend? Had Taggart found her through Amanda?

She tossed the letter on the bed beside the others and moved to the balcony. She opened the door and stepped through the curtains, hoping the warm, fresh air would revive her. Instead, her eyes were drawn immediately to the pen below. Christian sat atop the bucking stallion. But only for a moment. He fell and hit the ground with what seemed like terrible force.

She covered her mouth to stop the gasp. Jake watched from the fence, and Christian was already coming to his feet. She turned away. This was the last thing she wanted to watch now.

Inside the room, with the curtains billowing at her back, she eyed the letters. She would have to read Taggart’s second letter eventually. She walked to the bed and lifted it. She held it for a moment before breaking the seal, and read.

Dearest Lynnette,

I find myself becoming angry when I think of
how you deceived me. I have to fight to control my temper. I asked you nicely to come back. I waited for days but heard nothing! Do you think I will stand this treatment? You know how much I love you. You declared your passion for me in a book the whole world can read, then ran away from me. I will not let you get away.

My everlasting love, the real Robert.

P.S. Robert laid his lover on the bed and ran a finger over the bloodless lips and gazed into her staring eyes. ‘Now we will always be together.’

Lynnette dropped the letter, clasping her hands to her mouth to stifle a sob.
Blood-red
was what she had written.
Starry eyes.
Not bloodless and staring! Taggart’s Robert had killed his lover!

Panic washed over her, and she scrambled to retrieve the letter from the floor, crumpling it in her hands. She snatched up the other, tearing Amanda’s in her effort to release it. Shaking, she ran to the fireplace and tossed them on the cold hearth. Searching frantically, she found a jar of matches on the narrow mantel. She knelt and opened the jar, spilling the matches on the floor.

She grabbed one and struck it hard against the stone hearth. It snapped in two, skinning her fingertips. Her hands were so cold she barely felt it. The next match flared, and she held it to a corner of a letter. It caught, and she tossed the match in the center of the wadded pile. A second tiny blaze started there. Still panicking, she struck a second match and lit another corner. Then a third. Finally she stared at the burning paper, a fourth
burning match in her hand and no place left to light with it. She dropped the match into the flame just as it burned her finger.

She stuck the fingers in her mouth, tasting sulfur and blood. She watched until every particle of the letters was consumed. The pile of black ashes was too much for her to stand. With the hearth broom, she scattered them over the hearth, whisking them into the far corners.

Her hands shook as she gathered up the scattered matches and placed the jar back on the mantel. She walked slowly to the bed. Amanda’s letter still lay there, a two-inch tear on a crease. She lifted the letter gently and folded it. Clutching it to her heart, she fell across the bed, fighting tears.

She had to leave. She couldn’t tell anyone where she was going, not Amanda and not Christian.

The stallion stood as sweet as you please for about two minutes, just enough time for Christian to imagine he was making progress, but not enough to put him off guard. He was determined to stay on this time. Perhaps that was why the stallion tried a new tactic. He stayed so close to the fence that Christian wondered if they would both go through it. Neither one did, but Christian hit it so hard he was stunned for a moment.

Jake was by his side before his vision cleared. “You all right, boss?”

Christian swore. The stallion stood watching from the far side of the pen. “Yeah, I’m all right Help me up.”

“Are you sure nothing’s broken?” Jake asked as he helped him to his feet.

Christian flexed his arms and rolled his shoulders, then took a deep breath, feeling his ribs. “No, I’m fine.”

“You lost all the skin off your shoulder, boss,” Jake said, lifting a piece of torn shirt. “You better let Ma clean you up.”

“Damn,” he muttered, trying to twist enough to see the damage. He could feel his neck and shoulder stiffening up. Now that he was aware of the injury, it stung like the devil. “Let’s get the saddle off him and rub him down.”

In the barn, Jake removed the saddle while Christian stood at the horse’s head, ensuring his cooperation. The stallion was almost affectionate now that he had won. Again. Once Christian was sure that the horse wouldn’t give Jake any trouble, he headed for the kitchen to find Martha.

He suffered through her doctoring and lecture, which together amounted to mothering, kissed her on the cheek and went upstairs for a clean shirt. On the landing he heard voices from Emily’s room, but could sense Lynnette’s presence in her own. He stood for a moment looking toward her door, longing to go to her. But there was nothing he could possibly say.

In his room, he eased a clean shirt over the bandage Martha had tied around him, tucked it in and was buttoning it as he opened the door.

Lynnette’s door came open at nearly the same moment He froze when he saw her. Even in the dim
light, he could see she was upset. Pain, sorrow, fear seemed to compete on her beautiful features.

His fingers were too clumsy to manage the buttons, and he left them undone and went to her, was drawn to her. “Lynnette,” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I…” She looked down, back into her room, anywhere but at him. “I was going for a walk.”

Before he could stop himself, he took her chin and turned her face toward him. Her skin seemed wonderfully warm against his fingers. “You’re upset,” he said.

She licked her lips. Light from the windows in her room found the shine of moisture left by her tongue. He felt himself growing hard, and cursed silently. She was unhappy, and he was thinking of sex. Again. It was not his place, but still he whispered, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing really.” She struggled for breath. “Letters. I mean, I got some letters, and there was bad news.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I was going to take a walk. I’ll be fine.”

He realized his hand was still under her chin, his thumb less than an inch away from rubbing her lips. But the anguish in her eyes made it impossible to pull away. “You have a family now. You don’t have to bear this alone.”

Her eyes misted over. Whatever it was, he had managed to make it worse. He bent and brushed his lips against her forehead in what he hoped—pretended—was
a brotherly kiss. “I’m sorry,” he said and backed away.

With one furtive glance at his face, she brushed past him and practically ran down the stairs.

At dinner Emily decided this was the most miserable group of people that ever lived. She knew why Rose picked sadly at her food. She had spent the morning being rejected by the man she loved and the afternoon reliving it—over and over again. Arlen was straight across from her now so she never once looked up from her plate.

But Arlen wasn’t eating either. Or talking. Did he spare poor Rose a single thought? It seemed as though he glanced at her once in a while, but he glanced at Lynnette sometimes, too. Of course, Arlen could be preoccupied with his precious politics.

Christian, at the end of the table, acted for all the world as she did when she knew she had done something wrong and would soon be in terrible trouble. She couldn’t imagine Christian doing anything wrong, though. He was a grown man and could do as he pleased, couldn’t he?

Lynnette seemed the most miserable. She alone had offered an explanation of sorts. Arlen had brought her letters from town, and one of them contained some bad news. She hadn’t shared what that bad news was, so maybe she was lying. Maybe she had found out about Rose flirting with Arlen, and she had decided to be heartbroken over the whole thing. Had Arlen been dumb enough to tell her? Maybe a woman would know something like that.

Her father was either completely blind, or a marvelous actor. He ate enthusiastically and asked questions of everyone, receiving short, curt answers most of the time.
She
was forced to do more than her share of the talking. Normally that didn’t bother her, but she was too angry at everyone else.

Fortunately, no one cared to linger. Arlen was the first to excuse himself. Lynnette seemed about to ask him something but changed her mind. Maybe she had decided not to speak to him and had nearly forgotten.

Christian left next, heading outside through the kitchen. Lynnette said she was tired from her walk and went off to bed. Rose asked to be excused and nearly ran up the stairs. Her father said something about it being a fine night for reading on the balcony and went up to his room.

She was the youngest one here and the
only
one who was acting at all grown-up!

Christian had just gotten to the barn after breakfast when Lynnette appeared in the doorway. He watched her as she let her eyes adjust to the relative darkness. She was dressed in his pants and shirt again, and memories flooded his senses. He moved toward her, uncertain what he planned to do or say until he stood beside her. “Do you want to exercise the horses again?” he asked.

“I want to ride one, if I may.” Had he imagined a quiver in her voice?

He had moved too close to her, one step, and he could have taken her into his arms. He needed distance,
emotional and physical. He backed off a step. “You should ask Arlen.”

She moved toward him. “Arlen doesn’t think I need to learn to ride. But Arlen and I—”

He raised a hand and stopped her. “You have to leave me out of any problems you’re having with my brother. I don’t want to listen to your complaints about him.”
I’m too likely to want to comfort you.

“I understand,” she said. “But I’m going to leave soon, and I’ve never ridden.”

He didn’t want to risk it. He couldn’t spend any more time with her or his heart would be broken beyond repair.

“Please,” she whispered.

Her face was turned up to his, looking vulnerable in the soft light. “Wait here. I’ll saddle the horses.”

He led Trooper from his stall and was cinching Emily’s saddle into place when Jake joined him. “Are you taking the ladies for a ride?” Jake asked.

“One of them,” Christian answered.

Jake looked curious but didn’t ask any more questions. He set about beginning the chores.

Christian saddled the mare, then led the gelding toward Lynnette. “You remember Trooper.” At her nod, he dropped the reins and moved to stand just forward of the saddle.

He didn’t have to coax Lynnette to join him. She stepped up to the horse, but stopped. The scent of soap in her hair filled his lungs. She turned uncertain eyes toward him, and he remembered where he was. “Grab the saddle horn,” he instructed. “Put your left knee
in my hands. When you’re in the air, throw your right leg over the saddle. Got that?”

She nodded, looking even more uncertain.

“Easy as pie,” he assured her. He bent a little. With the slightest lift of her leg, he took her calf and tossed her into the saddle. She gasped, then looked extremely pleased. “I told you,” he said.

He adjusted the stirrups while she sat clinging to the saddle horn. “Just sit tight for a minute,” he said, giving Trooper’s neck a pat As long as the reins were on the ground, he would stay put. Probably.

The mare had to do her usual dance step with a few sideways jumps before she decided to behave. He rode her around in front of Lynnette. Gathering up Trooper’s reins, he urged the mare forward until the horses were side by side and he was facing Lynnette. With one hand, he brought the reins to either side of Trooper’s head, slid his hand to the proper length of rein and held them for her. She looked at them. “You have to let go of the saddle horn.”

She did, with the right hand at least, and took the reins. He closed his hand over hers. Her fingers seemed so tiny. He held her hand first to one side then the other, showing her how the reins turned the horse’s head. “Right, left. Back toward you is stop.”

She pulled the reins toward her, and Trooper stepped back. She immediately eased up. “What’s go?” she asked.

“Well, go could be a problem since you’re not wearing spurs. I’ll ride on out of the barn, and you kick him just as hard as you can.”

He reined the mare back away from Trooper and
turned her. Outside the barn he stopped and turned again. Whether Lynnette’s heels had made any impression or not, Trooper had gotten the idea. He came trotting out of the barn.