Lorraine Heath (4 page)

Whiskey. Her eyes reminded Jesse of a glass of good whiskey, the kind that went down smooth and warmed a man’s insides. The kind of whiskey a man enjoyed getting drunk on. And standing there, lifting her down from the stagecoach, he’d found himself getting drunk.

His hands had spanned her tiny waist and ached for the privilege to span the rest of her. She was as light as a billowy cloud floating in the sky. He could have held her above the ground all day, well into the night before he would have felt the strain. He’d wanted to yank the hat from her head and give freedom to the honey colored hair he’d spotted beneath, to let the silken tresses pour over his hands the way he poured honey over biscuits.

Since he’d been working at his brother’s inn, he’d helped a hundred women climb down from the stagecoach. Many had been more beautiful than the woman he’d assisted today. So why had he not wanted to take his hands off her?

Until he’d discovered she was married to his brother. Then he hadn’t been able to release her fast enough. But throughout the afternoon, his eyes had taken liberties denied his hands, caressing, touching her at every opportunity. He’d only caught a glimpse of her smile, but it was enough to make him understand why Charles had married her. What he couldn’t understand was why she’d married a man who could only promise her grief?

The questions he’d asked in the kitchen had been an attempt to glean some insight into her motives. She’d been wary, uneasy, and he’d thought he was making progress until she’d shot him down with her opinion on the company he kept.

He snorted. The company he kept. He’d been speaking in generalizations, not specifics. So why did he feel like she’d gotten the better of him?

It was her damned whiskey eyes. They’d distracted him until he was searching for facts like a fresh recruit searched for outlaws: with absolutely no success.

Sitting on a bale of hay, he rubbed oil into the harnesses he’d gathered. He studied the way his hands moved over the leather and imagined them caressing a delicately shaped woman. His hands would slide slowly along her ribs until they gently palmed her small breasts.

“What do you think of Maddie?”

Jesse jerked his head up and wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. He was damn grateful his brother wasn’t a mind reader. “I don’t make it a habit to judge people before I know them.”

“That puts you in the minority, doesn’t it?”

Shrugging, he went back to work on the harnesses. “I never put much stock in what the majority thought. When will the cattle get here?”

“The cattle?”

Jesse stilled his hands and slowly lifted his gaze to his brother’s. He wasn’t at all pleased with the tone in which the question had been asked, as though Charles didn’t even know what a cow was.

“Yes, the cattle. The cattle I gave you money to buy.”

Clearing his throat, Charles stretched his neck as though someone had just dropped a rawhide noose around it. Jesse’s trepidation increased. He’d spent years saving that money, risking his life more than once for a dream. “You did buy the cattle, didn’t you? That was one of the things you were supposed to do when you were in Fort Worth seeing the doctor.”

“Well, I saw the doctor.”

“And the man I told you to see about the cattle?”

Charles shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hell.” He met his brother’s unflinching gaze. “I needed the money for something else.”

“For something else? With the railroads crisscrossing this state, the stage lines are starting to disappear. What the hell are we going to do then? The cattle were something we could fall back on when your inn plays out.”

In retrospect, Charles realized he probably could have gotten by with a lesser bid, but all he had thought about at the time was the expression on Maddie’s face, as though with each passing moment, she was dying a little bit inside. He had wanted to ensure no one else would bid. He had wanted her off that table without her trembling fingers slipping beneath the other strap of that gown. “I needed the money for Maddie.”

“You spent my six hundred dollars on your wife?” Jesse roared, throwing the harnesses to the ground and rising to his feet.

“She wasn’t my wife at the time.”

“I’m listening,” Jesse ground out.

“You ever been to Bev’s when she’s found a virgin to start working for her?”

“A whore? You spent
my
money on a
whore?”

“No, I spent
our
money on
Maddie.
I paid a thousand dollars to get her off that damn table. I took her back to my hotel room and asked her to marry me.”

“She must have been hell in bed.”

Jesse was totally unprepared for the balled fist that slammed into his jaw and sent him sprawling over the bale of hay. Years of fighting to earn his place in the world had caused him to develop rapid-fire reflexes. Quickly, he recovered and jumped to his feet, his own fists balled at his sides. He stood there with his chest heaving. Any other man would have already felt his fist plowed into his face, but Jesse knew he couldn’t hit Charles. He’d defend himself if his brother threw another punch, but he wouldn’t hit him back.

“She’s my wife, Jesse. You’ll give her the respect she deserves as my wife or, by God, you’ll stay the hell out of my house.”

Jesse watched Charles storm out of the barn. Rubbing the spot he was certain would bruise, he gingerly moved his mouth. Well, he’d wondered what kind of woman would marry a man with Charles’s affliction. Now he knew.

He dropped onto the bale of hay and buried his face in his hands. Raising cattle had been his father’s dream, a dream that had moved them to travel from Tennessee, not knowing what lay ahead. He’d wrapped both his childish hands around his father’s dream, felt like a man when his father discussed the ranch they’d build, the land they’d gaze out on, the cattle they’d raise. Upon his death, his father had handed his dream down to Jesse.

When Jesse had shared his dream of raising cattle with Charles, he thought Charles had embraced the dream as well. He groaned in frustration. Charles had traded his hard-earned money for a whore.

His options were limited. He could return to the honest labor of working for the Texas Rangers, occasionally risking his life. He could go back to endless nights before a campfire, the camaraderie of men, the absence of decent women and children.

Or he could take up bounty hunting. The thought curdled his stomach. As a Ranger, he’d hunted men because of the things they’d done, not because of the reward offered for them. As much as he tried to convince himself bounty hunting was no different, he couldn’t. It was different.

Or he could scrape and pinch and hope the inn had a few more good years in it.

He lifted his head and looked out the open barn door into the blackness of night.

He knew Charles hadn’t meant to betray his dream. It was the woman who was responsible. She’d no doubt swayed her hips, batted her eyes, and smiled at him. She’d convinced him to marry her and, like a silent thief, had stolen Jesse’s dream.

Well, he had plenty of experience in dealing with thieves. In the farthest regions of West Texas, a Ranger served as judge, jury, and hangman when the situation warranted it, and this situation warranted his serving as all three.

Before he was finished, she’d regret taking his brother for a fool and robbing Jesse of his dream.

Not wanting to intrude, Maddie stood just inside the doorway and watched as Charles, resting on his knees with nightgowns draped over his thigh, prepared his daughters for bed.

Patiently, he removed their shoes, stockings, and dresses. Then he glanced over his shoulder. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind helping Hannah. She’s not quite the wiggle worm Taylor is.”

Maddie felt a tingle of gratitude, and the feeling of belonging touched her heart as she walked across the room and knelt beside Charles. He handed her a nightgown.

“Touch the stars,” he said. Both girls lifted their arms and stretched their fingers toward the ceiling. He slipped a muslin nightgown over Taylor’s head.

Smiling, Maddie imitated his actions and slipped the nightgown over Hannah’s head, working her arms through the sleeves, drawing the gown over her body. She was finished before Taylor giggled and collapsed onto her father’s lap. Charles carried her to a small bed. Each side had a wooden rail extending one foot above the mattress with wooden slats positioned at one inch intervals.

“Will those rails keep her in?” Maddie asked.

“No, they’re just designed to stop her from falling out.”

“Uncle Jesse made ‘em,” Hannah announced proudly as she crawled into her own bed. “Only I don’t need ‘em cuz I’m a big girl.”

Charles walked to the dresser, picked up two brushes, and handed one to Maddie. “We’d better braid their hair. Otherwise, we’ll spend half the morning untangling it.”

“Uncle Jesse didn’t braid our hair,” Hannah said.

“Uncle Jesse didn’t bathe you, either, did he?”

Hannah and Taylor shook their heads vigorously as grins filled their faces.

“Yeah, I think he forgot you were ladies.”

Maddie sat on the bed and brushed Hannah’s silky fine tresses. Watching Charles braid Taylor’s hair, she was surprised he had the skills and wondered if he’d braided his wife’s hair. When the task was complete, he kissed Taylor on the cheek.

“Give your ma some sugar, too.”

Maddie kissed Hannah, then bent over Taylor. Taylor’s chubby arms wrapped around her neck, wrapped around her heart. Then she stepped away as Charles brought the quilts over each girl’s shoulders before placing a kiss on their cheeks. Swallowed by the bedding, they looked extremely tiny and vulnerable.

Charles dimmed the lamp resting on the night table that stood between the beds. “We leave it burning a little to keep the nightmares away. ‘Night, girls.”

Hannah sat up. “We didn’t say ‘night ‘night to Uncle Jesse.”

Charles returned to her side, eased her onto the bed, and covered her back up. “Uncle Jesse had some chores he needed to take care of. He’ll be in later.”

“But I wanna kiss him.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you put a kiss in your hand and keep it under your pillow? You can give it to him in the morning.”

Hannah looked doubtful, but she kissed her palm, balled her fist, and stuck it beneath her pillow. Taylor imitated her sister’s actions. Charles gave each girl one last kiss before escorting Maddie out of their room.

Once in the hallway, he placed his hand on the small of her back. “We’ll say good night to Aaron, but don’t be disappointed if he doesn’t give you a kiss. When he was four, he told Alice that he’d used up all his kisses.”

“Used up all his kisses?”

Smiling, he nodded. “Yep, but I figure in about five years, he’ll discover some he hoarded away.”

Charles tapped on Aaron’s door. When Aaron answered, he took Maddie’s hand and stepped into the room. Aaron lay in the bed with the covers drawn over him.

“Thought we’d say good night.”

“ ’Night.”

Charles sat on the edge of the bed. “I missed you while I was in Fort Worth. Thought you might give me a hug.”

Aaron cast a furtive glance Maddie’s way. “Ain’t gonna hug her.”

“Did I ask you to?”

Shaking his head, Aaron sat up and slung his arms around his father’s neck. Charles hugged him tightly. “I love your mother, Aaron. My marriage to Maddie doesn’t change that.” Feeling Aaron’s arms tighten around him, he knew he’d tapped into some of the boy’s fears.

“I miss Ma,” Aaron whispered hoarsely against Charles’s neck.

“I miss her, too. I think about her every night before I go to sleep, but a man needs more than memories to hold onto at night, he needs more than memories in his life. Someday you’ll understand that a man likes to have a woman he can hold.”

Aaron released his father. “Uncle Jesse doesn’t have a woman to hold.”

“He has his dreams, and I imagine buried somewhere within those dreams is a woman. He just hasn’t taken the time to find her.”

“How come Uncle Jesse didn’t come home tonight?”

“He had some things he had to take care of.”

Aaron scrunched his face in distaste. “Is he gonna bring a wife home tomorrow?”

Charles smiled. “I don’t think so.”

Aaron buried himself within the mattress as Charles rearranged the displaced quilts. “Don’t suppose you’d just say good night to Miss Maddie.”

Aaron looked past his father to the silent woman standing within his room. “ ’Night.”

“Good night, Aaron.”

He nodded before rolling over. Shaking his head, Charles stood.

They stepped out into the hallway. “Give him time,” Charles said quietly.

“He seems to think the world of your brother.”

Charles nodded. “Jesse came to live here shortly after Alice died. I had a baby and a three-year-old I was trying to care for. What little time I had for Aaron wasn’t enough. And the time I did find for him …” He shook his head. “We were in the barn, and I was yelling at him about something he’d done wrong. I can’t even remember what it was now. Suddenly, Jesse cleared his throat, and I jumped clear out of my skin.”

Maddie smiled, and he touched the curved tip of her mouth. “See, you’re not the only one he makes jump. Anyway, there he stood, looking for a place to call home. He gave Aaron the time and attention I couldn’t. Which is good. I’m glad they’re close.”

They strolled the hall until they stood before the first bedroom. “Why don’t you get ready for bed?” Charles suggested. “I’m going to check downstairs. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Why hasn’t Jesse come back to the house?”

Charles averted his gaze. “He had some chores—”

She slipped her hand into his and brushed her thumb lightly across his discolored knuckles. “You told him, didn’t you?” she asked quietly. “Told him how you met me?”

“It doesn’t matter, Maddie. Jesse just doesn’t understand. He sees everything as though it’s been painted in black and white. I view things as though they’ve been painted in varying shades of gray. When the light shines on them, you see something different.”

“I don’t want to come between you two. Family is too important, Charles.”