Montana Sky (43 page)

“Lily's probably got that coffee hot by now.”

He tugged Willa's hat over her eyes. “How do you think I found you, kid? I followed the scent.”

Tess stood frozen to the spot as they wandered toward the little campfire where Lily heated the pot. At a faint rustle in the brush behind her she sprinted forward like a runner off the mark. “Wait. Wait for me.”

“Your sister's got a powerful love for coffee,” Ben commented as Tess barreled by.

“You should have seen her face when I set her horse loose. It was worth bringing her along just for that.”

“Everything all right otherwise?”

“Quiet.” She slowed her pace. “Normal. Or as quiet and normal as you'd expect with wedding plans gearing up.”

“I wouldn't like to see anything spoil that.”

“Nothing's going to.” She stopped completely now, turned her back on the group by the fire so that she faced only Ben. “I talked to the police again,” she said quietly. “They're investigating my men. Every one of them.”

“Mine too. It's necessary, Willa.”

“I know it. I left Ham back, and it worries me, not knowing. He and Bess, Wood's two boys. As far as it goes, Ben, they're alone.”

“Ham can handle himself, so can Bess if it comes to that. And nobody's going to hurt those kids, Will.”

“I wouldn't have thought so before. Now I just don't know. I wanted Nell to take them, go stay with her sister for a while. She won't leave Wood. Of course if it is Wood, then she and the boys are probably safe.”

Playing back her own words in her head, Willa blew out a breath. “I can't believe what I think sometimes, Ben. If it's Wood, if it's Jim, if it's Billy. Or one of your men. I've
known most of them my whole life. And then I think, maybe Jesse Cooke was the last of it. Maybe it'll stop with him and we won't have to deal with it anymore. Thinking that way's like shoving Pickles and that girl aside.”

“Thinking that way's human.” He touched her cheek.

“I've wondered if it might stop with Cooke.”

“But you don't believe it.”

“No, I don't believe it.”

“Is that why you're here? Is that why you're driving your herd up the same day I'm driving mine?”

He'd been afraid it hadn't been a very subtle move, and now he rubbed a hand over the scar on his chin. “You could say I've got an investment in you. I look after what's mine.”

Her brows rose. “I'm not yours, Ben.”

He bent down, gave her a quick, casual kiss. “Look again,” he suggested, and went after his coffee.

F
ROM TESS
'
S JOURNAL
:

 

Driving cattle is in no way similar to driving a Mercedes 450 SL—which is a little something I believe I'll treat myself to when I get back to the bright lights and big city.

Driving cattle is an adventure perhaps akin to whizzing along the highway in a spiffy sports car. You go places, you see things, and the wind is in your hair. But it is also a painful business.

My butt is so sore I've got to sit on a pillow to write. I suppose, all in all, it was worth it. The Rockies are a grabber, absolutely. Even finding snow underfoot this late in the year couldn't spoil it. The air's different in high country. Purer is the closest I can come to describing it. It's like the clearest of spring waters in a fine crystal glass.

We stopped on a rocky plateau and I swear I thought I could see all the way to Nate's ranch.

It made me miss him a little—well, more than a little. An odd feeling. I can't recall ever missing a man before. Sex, sure, but that's a different matter.

In any case, the cattle seem to drive themselves for the most part, trudging along with only the occasional complaint. Adam says it's because many of them have made the trip before and know the drill, and the others just tag along. Still, they make quite a noise with all that clopping and mooing, and the occasional maverick has to be rounded up.

I watched Will rope a cow and I was impressed. The woman looks more natural on horseback than she does on her own two feet. I'd have to say regal, though I'd never say it to her. Her head's quite big enough as it is. She's a natural boss, and I'd have to admit that's a necessary attribute in her position. She works like a stevedore, again admirable, but I don't appreciate her cracking the whip in my direction.

I suspect we meandered a bit on our way up. I have to give her credit for that as well. I have no doubt she lengthened the route for my and Lily's benefit. It was quite a trip. We saw elk and mule deer, moose, bighorn sheep, and huge, gorgeous birds.

I did not see a bear. I am in no way disappointed by this.

Lily took rolls of pictures. She's recovered so completely you could almost forget all the horror that happened to her. Almost. I think of scales when I think of Lily, with her balancing tragedy and happiness on either end. She's found a way to weight down that happiness end. I admire that, too.

But forgetting all the way just isn't possible. Beneath the tough, focused exterior, Will is a bundle of nerves. We've all homed in on the wedding, all seem determined to have nothing spoil it. But there's worry here. It's in the air.

On another front, I'm whipping through the rewrites on my script. Ira's very pleased with the deal, and the progress. I expect to be inundated with meetings when I get back to LA in the fall. And I finally decided to tell him about the book. He was pretty jazzed, which surprised me, so I shot off the first couple chapters to him to give him a taste. We'll see.

At the moment, I'm squeezing in writing time between wedding preparations. The shower's coming up, and we're
all pretending Lily doesn't know we're planning one. Should be a hoot.

 

“S
O WHAT ARE YOU MEN PLANNING FOR THE BACHELOR
party?” Tess sat on the corral fence at Nate's and watched him take a yearling through his paces.

“Something dignified, of course.”

“How many strippers?”

“Three. Any more isn't dignified.” He reined in, backed the yearling up, then squeezed gently with his knees. The yearling broke into an easy trot. “That's the way. Smart boy.”

Look at him, Tess thought, all lanky and lean with his hat pulled low and those long, narrow hands as sexy as a concert pianist's.

He quite literally made her mouth water. “I ever tell you how good you look on a horse, Lawyer Torrence?”

“A time or two.” It still made heat crawl up his neck. “But you can tell me again.”

“You look good. When am I going to see you in court?”

Surprised, he circled the horse. “Didn't know you wanted to.”

Neither had she. “Well, I do. I like looking at you in your lawyer suit, all sober and serious. I like looking at you.”

He slid off, looped the reins around the rail, and began to uncinch the saddle. “Hasn't been much time for looking or anything else just lately, has there?”

“Busy time. Only ten days until the wedding, and Lily's parents are coming in tomorrow. After things settle, maybe you can take me into town, let me watch you ride the court. Then . . . we could stay in a hotel for the night and play.” She ran her tongue around her teeth. “Wanna play with me, Nate?”

“Your rules or mine?”

“No rules at all.” With a laugh, she hopped off the fence and grabbed him into a hot, lengthy kiss. “I've missed you.”

“Have you?” That was progress he hadn't expected quite so soon. “That's nice.”

She glanced toward the house, thought of bed. “I don't suppose we could . . .”

“I don't think Maria could stand the shock of that, middle of the day and all. Maybe you could stay the night.”

“Mmm. Wish I could, but I'm already AWOL. And I don't like to stay away long, after what happened.”

His eyes went cold as he turned to lift the saddle off the yearling. “I wish I'd been there sooner that night, to back Adam up.”

“It wouldn't have mattered. There was nothing Adam or Will could do to stop it. Nothing you could've done if you'd been there.”

“Maybe not.” But he'd had some bad moments thinking of it, imagining it. Wondering what he would have done if it had been Tess with a gun at her head. Because the light had gone out of her eyes as well, he moved on impulse and swung up on the horse's bare back. “Come on, take a ride with me.”

“Without a saddle?” She blinked, then laughed and stepped back. “I don't think so. I like having the horn to grab onto.”

“Tenderfoot.” He held out a hand. “Come on. You can grab me.”

Intrigued but wary, Tess eyed the horse. “He's awfully big for a yearling.”

“Just a baby and anxious to please.” Nate cocked his head and waited for her to take the offered hand.

“All right. But I really hate falling off.” She let him grip her hand and with little grace clambered on behind him. “Different,” she decided, but found a definite advantage in being able to snuggle close behind Nate, her arms circling his waist. “Sexy. Adam rides bareback quite a lot. He looks like a god.”

Nate chuckled, clucked the horse into a walk. “Puts you more in tune with your mount.”

It also, Tess realized when they slid into a trot, put her more in tune with her lust. And when they smoothed out
into a gallop she was grinning like a fool. “This is great. More.”

“That's what you always say.” He circled the corral again, enjoying the sensation of those firm, generous breasts pressed into his back. His eyes crossed when she slid her hands down below his belt.

“Figured as much,” she said, when she found him hard. “Ever do it on horseback?”

“Nope.” The idea provided a fascinating visual—Tess laid back in front of him on the horse's neck, her legs wrapped tight around his waist as they mated to the rhythm of the horse. “We'd break our necks when he caught the scent of sex and bucked us off.”

“I'm ready to risk it. I really want you, Nate.”

He stopped, steadied the horse, then turning, hauled her in front of him with a great deal of gasping and groping. “No.” He could barely get the word out of his busy mouth as her fingers zoomed in on his belt buckle. “This'll have to hold us for now. Just hold on to me, Tess. Just hold on and let me kiss you awhile.”

She would have been reckless, but he held her close, pinning her arms to her sides as he assaulted her mouth. Her hat fell off, landed in the dirt, and her heart went wild, the echoes of it pounding everywhere at once. Then it changed, everything changed and became gentle, sweet, pure as the air in high country.

From desperation to tenderness he eased her until her pulse slowed and went thick, until her throat ached from it and her eyes stung.

“I love you.” He hadn't meant to say it, but it was too much, too huge to keep trapped inside. His lips formed the words against hers, slowly.

“What?” Dazed, dreaming, she stared into his eyes. “What did you say?”

“I'm in love with you.”

She dropped out of her floaty state and hit reality with a thud. She'd heard the words before. They were easy for some to toss off, just another line. But not from him, she realized. Not from a man like Nate.

“That's getting a little carried away.” She wanted to smile, keep it light. Couldn't. “Nate, we're just . . .”

“Lovers?” he added, and didn't bother to curse himself for finishing her sentence. “Convenient bed partners? No, we're not, Tess.”

She took a steadying breath and spoke firmly. “I think we'd better get down.”

Instead he took her chin in his hand so that her eyes stayed level with his. “I'm in love with you, have been for a while now. I'll make what adjustments I have to to make it work for you, but it comes down to this: I want you to stay with me, marry me, raise a family with me here.”

The first shock paled beside the rest of it. “You know I can't possibly—”

“You got a while to get used to the idea.” With this, he dismounted. “There's not much I've wanted in life,” he said, studying her stunned face. “My law degree, this place, a good string of horses. I got them. Now I want you.”

It helped, she thought, the unmitigated insult and arrogance of that helped shift shock into temper. “You may want to take notes, Lawyer Torrence. I'm not a law degree, a ranch, or a brood mare.”

“No, you're not.” A smile flirted around his mouth as he plucked her off the horse. “You're a woman, a tough-minded, ambitious, and frustrating woman. And you're going to be mine.”

“Would you care to hear what I think of this sudden cowboy mentality of yours?”

“I've got a pretty good picture.” He slid the bridle off the yearling, slapped its flank to send it trotting away. “You'd better get home, take some time to think it through.”

“I don't need time to think it through.”

“I'll give it to you anyway.” He looked up at the sky. The sun was just beginning to drop toward the western peaks, blushing red against blue. “Going to rain tonight.” He said it casually as he leaped over the fence and left Tess gaping after him.

• • •

“I
DON
'
T KNOW WHAT BUR
'
S UP YOUR BUTT
,”
WILLA
mutered, “but yank it out. Lily's going to be back here with her folks any minute.”

“You're not the only one who's allowed to have things on her mind.” Tess crammed a petit four in her mouth.

The house was full of chattering women, gaily wrapped gifts, and white streamers. It had been Tess's idea to serve champagne punch for the wedding shower, and though Bess had clucked her tongue over it for the sake of form, she was enjoying a cup herself while she gossiped with neighbors.

Everybody's happy as clowns, Tess thought, and snagged another petit four. Celebrating the ridiculous idea of two people chaining themselves together for the rest of their lives. She pouted, debated another cake, then went for a cigarette instead.

No way was Nate Torrence going to make her split another pair of jeans. She grabbed a cup of punch and decided to get drunk instead.

By the time the bride-to-be came in, Tess had gulped down three cups and was feeling more celebratory. She got a kick out of the way Lily feigned surprise. The shower hadn't been a secret since the first invitation had been sent. Now there were gifts to be oohed and aahed over, everything from whisk brooms to peignoirs.

Tess watched Lily's mother blink back tears and slip outside.

An interesting woman, Tess decided, pouring herself another cup. Attractive, well presented, well spoken. What the hell had she ever seen in a son of a bitch like Jack Mercy?

When Bess poured two cups and slipped out too, Tess shrugged and tried to work up the proper enthusiasm for a set of embroidered napkins.

“Here you go, Adele.” Bess settled herself on the glider, handed Adele a cup while the woman dabbed at her eyes.

“Been some time since we sat here.”

“I didn't know how I would feel coming back. It's hardly changed.”

“Oh, here and there. You haven't changed much yourself.”

Vanity was a small weakness, and Adele automatically touched a hand to her carefully groomed hair. It was cut sleek and short, kept a subtle shade of deep blond.

“Lines,” she said with a weak laugh. “I never know where they come from, but there are new ones in my mirror every morning.”