Oklahoma kiss (18 page)

      
"The innocent has already paid, Adam," Coy said coldly. "Old Choctaw Bill never hurt anybody." With that, he stalked angrily from the porch and ran to the hitching post where his horse was tied.

      
"I hope he cools down some," Adam said worriedly.

      
"I do too." She leaned against the porch railing, watching until Coy rode out of sight.

      
Adam looked at Blair uneasily. "I’m not asking this to pry, but is Coy usually so hot-headed?"

      
She joined Adam on the swing. "Under the circumstances, I don't think his behavior is too unreasonable." Her tone was defensive but not indignant.

      
"Basically, I don't either. Like I told him, I don't blame him for being mad. It's the vigilante talk that bothers me. Believe me, they are nothing but trouble." He turned slightly, placing his arm on back of the swing. "Usually, I try to stay out of other people's personal business, but if you have any influence over him, I suggest you use it if he starts talking about the vigilantes again."

      
"What makes you think he would listen to me?"

      
"I’m the type of man who notices people, their reactions, and their attitude toward others. Coy and I have talked some and he seldom mentions your other two brothers. Samuel and . . . Collin?" He peered at her to see if he had the names right. When she nodded, he continued, "Warren is so headstrong, he gives orders instead of asking, so if he talked to him, Coy probably wouldn't listen . . . out of spite if nothing else. So, that leaves you. I think the two of you are very close, and if he'd listen to anyone, it would be you."

      
She studied him intently. "If some men do form a vigilante group, and if Coy joins, could he get into trouble?"

      
"Yes, and that's my honest opinion."

      
"Then I will talk to him." She sighed heavily. "Whether he will listen, though, is anybody's guess, because I've never seen him so furious."

      
Suddenly conscious of his arm resting on the back of the swing, Blair lowered her eyes, aware of the flutter of nerves in her stomach.
I wish I knew how he really feels about me! I have to find out, but how? If only Miss Pettibone . .
.

      
Startled by her thoughts, Blair's back stiffened. What made her think of Miss Pettibone? That old biddy's advice would be worthless where a man such as Adam was concerned. "Act coy. Act demure. Ladies, remember to lower your lashes and blink your eyes. Make him think you are helpless."

      
Why, after the impression she gave during their first meeting, Adam would think she had lost her mind if she suddenly behaved like a defenseless female. Perhaps the best way was to point-blank ask why he had been ignoring her.

      
She took a deep, shuddering breath and finally gathered enough courage to ask, "Adam . . . why are you angry at me?"

      
Confused by her abrupt question that seemed to come from out of nowhere, he tilted his head and looked at her uncertainly.

      
"I’m not. Why do you ask?"

      
"Because . . . well, it seems like you have been avoiding me the past few days."

      
He chortled. "The misery you’ve been putting me through, I’d like to avoid you! Do you have any idea how much that medicine you insist upon smearing all over my feet, stinks and burns?"

      
"Now you are avoiding answering me," she said softly.

      
Adam pulled his gaze from hers. He did not know he had been that obvious. The truth of the matter was, he had been avoiding her. He knew if she looked at him too many times with those huge green sensual eyes, or brushed against him, or allowed her hand to linger too long on his leg, or run her tongue over those sweet-looking lips, he would soon forget she was his friend's sister.

      
Knowing she was waiting for an answer, Adam figured the best way out was to tell her a blatant lie. He rubbed his chin and sighed. "All right, I’ve been avoiding you. I thought maybe you would want to talk about your argument with Warren, and I didn't want to get involved in any family disagreements."

      
She smiled her relief. "So, that's what it was. . .and I thought I had made you angry."

      
"When somebody does that, there's usually no question in his mind if I’m angry or not." Leisurely, he stretched his long legs, laced his fingers together, propped them behind his head, and leaned back —much to Blair's dismay, for she enjoyed the feel of his arm resting on the back of the swing. "Since I will be here for a few more days, let me explain something; then you won't be so apt to get your feelings hurt unnecessarily. I’ve spent the greater part of the past seven years by myself. Mind you, I’m not complaining, it's just something that goes with the job, but I have grown accustomed to it. Maybe too accustomed to it," he added dryly. "Because now, whenever I'm around too many people, or stay in one place for too long a time, I feel hemmed in. It's not so bad when I'm able to walk outside and get a breath of fresh air, or mount up and ride off for an hour or two. But sitting in one place day after day ..." His features distorted as though he had bit into something sour. "So, if you start thinking I'm angry just because I'm not talking . . . well, maybe I had rather be alone."

      
"Oh ... I see," she said softly.

      
She had received the answer to the questions that had been tearing at her, but it was an answer she would have preferred not to hear. Adam was a loner. He was not interested in settling down with a wife and having a family as she had unconsciously hoped. He was not interested in her! At least not in the way she wanted him to be.

      
"T-then tell me ... am I intruding on your privacy now?" she asked in a hesitant voice. Adam caught her hand when she started to rise, and in spite of what he had just said, a tingling of excitement raced through her at his touch.

      
"No, you are not intruding. I enjoy your company. Besides, if you go back into the house, you'll probably decide my feet need to soak again, or it's time to put more of that awful-smelling medicine on them. As long as you're out here with me, figure I’m safe."

      
From his words and the tone of his voice, she realized he was trying to tease her back into a good mood. Blair decided right then she could either accept what he had just "told her, and look-elsewhere for a man who would really care for her, or, she could do her damnedest to make him change his mind. Without giving it a second thought, Blair knew what she had to do, and she might as well start this very minute.

      
Chapter 11

      
"Blair, there's something I’ve been curious about," Adam stated, turning his head slightly toward her. "That day out near your grandfather's meadow, why did you think that little charade was necessary?"

      
"C-charade?" She lowered her eyes and blushed.

      
"Aww, you know what I’m talking about."

      
This was the first time anything specific had been mentioned about that day, and while she preferred to forget it had ever happened, she couldn't avoid his direct question. "Because I really didn't think you would take me seriously otherwise."

      
He smiled and said with quiet emphasis, "Believe me, anytime someone points a gun at me,
I take it serious
"

      
"I still say, you wouldn't have believed I posed a threat."

      
"Why?"

      
Recalling his and Warren's silly little game, Blair responded, "I think I can explain better by showing instead of telling you. Now, you have to keep in mind I thought you were a dangerous cattle rustler."

      
"All right, I will."

      
Standing, she leveled an imaginary rifle in his direction and using normal enunciation, she spoke in her regular tone of voice, "Turn around. Mister, I have a rifle pointing at you." She noticed a wide grin spreading across Adam's face and an amused gleam coming from his eyes. "I believe you are a cattle rustler, and I insist that you accompany me to the ranch so that my brothers can turn you over to the proper authorities. I’m sure you must know that in this part of the country, cattle rustling is a hanging offense."

      
Hearing the screen door slam behind her, Blair grimaced and her face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. She reluctantly turned about.

      
Warren stood there, wearing the most puzzled expression, while slowly shaking his head. It was plain to see he thought she had lost her mind. Without saying a word, he walked to the gate, turned and looked at her again, then headed for the barn, still shaking his head.

      
"You . . . you scoundrel!" she railed, though not actually angry, but terribly embarrassed. "You led me into that . . . knowing he was standing there!"

      
Laughing raucously, Adam finally managed to say, "He wasn't when I asked you. Besides, I had no idea what you were going to do."

      
Presenting her back to him, she walked to the porch railing, crossed her arms and patted her foot against the floor while attempting to hold back the tears that threatened. When embarrassed or angry, she nearly always cried.

      
Adam crossed the porch, took hold of her arms and gently pulled her around to face him. "Embarrassed?" he asked softly, gazing down at her lovely face.

      
Nodding, her long sooty lashes fluttered downward against her cheek, then swept upward as she met his gaze. On any other woman the movement might have seemed coy, but so innocent were her eyes, Adam suddenly felt helpless and protective all at once.

      
Her eyes were wide and luminous, the pupils dark as if she too had felt a rush of emotions. Her cheeks were flushed and curling tendrils of black hair clung to her temples. Adam put up a hand to brush them away. His fingertips trailed across the soft curve of her cheek and he was lost. Gently, he gripped her chin in his big hand and his mouth swooped down to claim hers, tasting the sweetness he'd known would be there. She was startled but offered no resistance. His tongue traced along the fullness of her lips, but in her innocence her mouth remained closed to him. His hand dropped, grazing lightly against the soft mound of her breast as he gripped her waist and pulled her tightly to him.

      
Instinctively she wound her arms around his neck. His cheek pressed against hers, the slight scrape of his beard roughening her skin. Blair gasped and arched her back, delighting in the tantalizing sensations his touch evoked.

      
She felt so good in his arms, small and dainty and womanly. Her body heat enhanced the delicate fragrance of her skin, inflaming his senses, causing his loins to quicken. The heat of her body penetrated his own and awakened fires he had vowed not to kindle. What in the hell was he doing?

      
Firmly, yet gently, he thrust her away from him and stepped back. Raking a hand through his hair, regret glazed his eyes. "I don't know what came over me," he murmured huskily. "I never planned . . ."

      
Blair sensed if he apologized or chastised himself for kissing her, there could be irreparable damage to their fledgling relationship. If only there was a way to pretend the kiss never happened. . . .

      
An idea suddenly struck her. There was a possible way to extricate them from this precarious situation. No question it was conniving and dishonest, but salvaging their friendship was much more important than any pangs of conscience that might arise later. Blair deliberately thought in the terms of "friendship," although, deep inside she was aware of a tiny voice telling her that she would never be satisfied with anything less than his love.

      
She placed a finger across his lips, silencing him. "No, Adam, please do not apologize when the only thing you are guilty of is trying to make me feel better." She wet her Ups and smiled at him. "I ... I appreciate what you tried to do just now and it's so terribly sweet . . . honestly though, it was not necessary." She raised her hands in an open palm gesture. "Do I look as though I am dying of a broken heart?"

      
Baffled by her strange reaction and incoherent babbling, he shook his head, his brows slanted in a puzzled frown. "I’m not sure I know what you're talking about."

      
"Your kissing me," she chided in a soft, husky voice. "Regardless of what you must have been told, I never loved Albert, I only thought of him as a friend . . . and not a very good one at that. In all sincerity, it was not upsetting when he and a friend of mine at school announced their engagement. Still, what you did was terribly sweet." Raising on her tiptoes, she gave him a sisterly kiss on his cheek.

      
"You think I . . ."

      
"Of course you did and don't try to deny it." Were her cheeks flushing as warmly as she thought they were?

      
So that was it. Some fool had let Blair slip through his fingers and she thought . . . little did she know he had kissed her because he had wanted to —even though he shouldn't have. His first impulse was to set her straight, but he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn't. If he told her the truth, it would ease his conscience, but what would she think of him? Damn it, why was he so suddenly concerned over what a woman thought about him?

      
With a deliberately casual movement, he shrugged. "I suppose I have no choice then."