His Texas Wildflower (11 page)

“Oh. I'm going to be at your place for that long?”

Pausing near an armchair, he chuckled, then said in a husky tone, “It's a big ranch, Rebecca. And I want you to see everything. Everything that matters, that is. Still want to come?”

There was another short pause and at that moment, Jake wished he could see her face and read what she was thinking. Maybe she was biting her lip, trying to decide whether he was worth the effort at all.

“I'll be ready,” she answered.

“Forty-five minutes,” he reminded her, then after a quick goodbye, tossed the phone onto the cushion of the chair and hurried to the shower.

She'd be ready, but would he? Jake asked himself, as he peeled off his sweaty shirt and kicked off his dirty boots. For the first time in his life, he had a real home and a real lady to show it to. And the idea shook him.

He'd never cared much about other people's opinion of him or his way of life. He was an unpretentious man and as far as he was concerned, they all could take him or leave him.

But it was different with Rebecca. He wanted her admiration and respect. He wanted to hear her say he was doing things right and good.

Did that mean he was falling in love? No. He couldn't fall in love. He had too much of Lee Rollins's genes running through his veins. He wasn't a one-woman man. He was a man for every woman. And when he looked into Rebecca's pretty blue eyes again, he couldn't let himself forget that.

R
ebecca had just finished changing into a cool sun-dress and dabbing perfume on her neck and wrist, when she heard Beau bark and a door slam.

Hurrying from the bedroom and through the house, she walked out onto the front porch just as Jake was climbing the steps. He was carrying a small potted cactus with a single yellow bloom adorning one of the branches.

Her gaze vacillated between the plant and the lazy smile on his face while her heart leaped into a higher gear. Three days had passed since she'd last seen him and although he'd never left her thoughts, the actual sight of him was like a delicious jolt of pleasure.

“Hello, Rebecca.”

She smiled back at him. “Hello,” she said, then inclined her head toward the plant he was carrying. “Is that for me?”

A dimple carved deep into his left cheek as one shoulder gave a casual shrug. “I thought you could set it on your kitchen windowsill. Or something like that. It'll brighten up the place.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, she reached to take the plant from him. “It's beautiful, Jake. Thank you.”

“It's also very prickly,” he warned. “Better let me carry it in for you. We wouldn't want to spend the evening picking spines from your fingers.”

“All right.” She opened the wooden screen door and followed him through the small living room and into the even tinier kitchen.

He placed the blooming cactus in the middle of the windowsill and glanced around for her approval.

“Very nice. The pot even matches the curtains,” she said.

A few days ago, she'd replaced the faded fabric at the window with those woven of blue buffalo checks. The curtains had been one of many small improvements around the place and she was still asking herself why she was making them. For herself? Or for the aunt she'd never known?

“Sometimes a man gets lucky,” he said, slanting her a wry grin.

Her heart, which was already thumping in a rhythm that was way too fast, somehow sped up even more. Clasping her hands together, she cleared her throat. “W-would you like something to drink before we go?”

Moving away from the window, he walked over to where she stood by the small dinette table. “No, thanks. We don't have a whole lot of daylight hours left and I don't want to waste them.” His brown gaze slipped down
the length of her tan-and-white-striped dress and the sandals strapped on her feet. “Are you ready?”

His inspection of her appearance made her hesitate. “Am I dressed appropriately for this tour? If you'd like I can change into jeans and boots.”

His gaze settled back on her face and in spite of her weak-willed efforts, Rebecca focused directly on his mouth with its square, chiseled corners and the faint sheen to the curve of his lower lip. Since that kiss they'd shared on the porch, she'd thought of those lips, dreamed about them, hungered for them. And tried her best to forget them. All to no avail.

“I'm not going to put you to work in the branding pen,” he said with an amused grunt, then added huskily, “I like you just as you are.”

She drew in a deep breath and said, “I'll go get my purse and wrap and we can be on our way.”

For a moment there was something in his eyes that made her think he was going to reach out and touch her, but if he was harboring those intentions, something must have waylaid them. Like common sense, Rebecca thought. Because she had the feeling if he touched her now, they'd never make it off the place.

“I'll wait on the porch,” he told her, then quickly turned and left the room.

Minutes later, they were headed northward through mountainous countryside that Rebecca had never seen before. Traffic was light to nonexistent on the narrow highway and before long they were far away from any sort of settlement or civilization.

As Jake focused on his driving, Rebecca decided to speak the thoughts that had been racing through her mind. “I was surprised when you called me this afternoon.”

Beneath the brim of his gray hat, she could see his brow arch faintly. “Oh. Why was that?” he asked.

She looked away from him and out toward the swiftly changing scenery. In the past couple of minutes the mountains were giving way to flat desert surrounded by low, balding hills.

“Because the other night when you left my place I couldn't help but think that—” She didn't know how to put her feelings into words and she groaned inwardly as she tried to fumble her way through it. “Well, that something about me had put you off. I figured you probably intended to avoid me. Because you considered me trouble.”

He kept his eyes on the highway. “You are trouble, Rebecca.”

Frowning, she stared at him. “So what am I doing here? With you?”

This time he chuckled and the sound released some of the tension inside of her.

With his eyes crinkled at the corners, he glanced at her. “Haven't you guessed by now that I'm a man who likes to flirt with danger?”

Oh, yes, he flirted without even realizing he was flirting. That was part of his charm, she thought. He didn't even know just how potent he was to a woman, how just a simple little expression on his face was enough to melt her heart.

She started to tell him that there was nothing dangerous about her, but instead she decided it would be best all around to let the matter drop and try to forget everything about that kiss.

“I talked to Bess the other day,” she told him. “She wasn't exactly what I expected. But she appeared to have cared a great deal for Gertrude.”

“Bess is a little rough around the edges, but that's understandable. Life hasn't been easy for the woman. Still, she's a good ole gal. The kind that would be the first to offer help if you needed it.” He glanced curiously her way. “Was she able to give you any helpful information about your aunt?”

“Actually, she told me something that still has me puzzled. My aunt's physical appearance looked nothing like my mother's. She said that Gertrude was tall and blonde. Like me. Is that true? Did you ever see her up close?”

“Not what you'd call close. But she was a tall woman and her hair was light-colored. I used to see her out in the yard, watering the shrubs and flowers. At one time she had a lot of them that bloomed, but that was years ago, back when Quint and I were just young boys. Later on, well, she must have lost interest in the yard and the house. It all started looking run-down.” He grimaced, then shook his head. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

She looked at him with speculation. “Why? The place being run-down is an understatement. It needs plenty of home improvements.”

“Well, yes. But that bit about her losing interest. That's just a guess on my part. Bad health is probably what made her let things go undone,” he said flatly. “I've seen the very same things going on with my own mother.”

Interest peaked her brows. “You've never spoken much about your mother. Does she live around here?”

“In Ruidoso. After her and my dad divorced she sold the ranch where I grew up and bought herself a place ‘among the living' as she calls it.”

The thread of sarcasm she heard in his voice was
probably wound around all sorts of family incidents, she decided, and none of them good. “And you didn't want her to sell?”

“Hell, no! She let the property go for less than half of what it was worth. The two of us could have made a good go of it, but she wasn't willing to try.”

“I thought you said you were only thirteen when your father left?”

“I was. But I was a big strapping boy. I could do the manual work of a man. And Dad had already taught me all about caring for the livestock.”

“Yes. But still it would have been only you and your mother to see after things. Keeping up a ranch of any size would have been a big job for the two of you.”

“We would've had to hire day hands from time to time and a vet whenever one was needed. But—” He let out a long breath and shook his head once. “Sorry. Again. None of that matters anymore.”

“But it still fires you up,” she quietly deduced.

He smiled wanly. “You could tell?”

She chuckled. “Just a little.” Squaring her knees around so that she was facing him, she asked, “Do you and your mother get along?”

He shrugged. “If you're asking me if I love her, then I do. Very much. God knows she worked hard to raise me—without any help from my dad. But there are times I get so frustrated with her. It's like she's given up on life. She only sees the negative side of everything.”

“That's not good.”

The corners of his mouth turned downward. “No. But then she has her reasons for being like she is. First she lost her husband to another woman. And then about ten years ago she had cancer and went through months
of grueling treatment. That wiped the cancer out, but it weakened her heart.”

“Poor woman,” Rebecca murmured, while thinking what Jake must have gone through while his mother was ill. She didn't have to ask to know that he'd been at her side whenever she needed him, which had probably been a lot. “Is she disabled now?”

“No. And her heart problem wouldn't be that serious if she would only do what the doctors tell her to do. But she doesn't. I think—well, I think she's like your aunt Gertie was these past years. She's lost all interest.”

Rebecca gazed thoughtfully out the windshield. “Do you think she's still pining for your father? That she can't get over losing him?”

He muttered a curse under his breath. “I've tried to tell her that the man isn't worth losing sleep over. And she agrees. She knew he was no good. Even before he left, she knew he had a string of women, but she loved him.” He looked at her and shook his head with dismay. “Like love means more than anything—even living.”

The tiny ache that settled in her chest confused her. It shouldn't matter to her that Jake had a cynical outlook about love. But it did and she couldn't quite understand why. Except that she was beginning to see him as a gallant knight in spurs and blue jeans and knights believed in love. Didn't they?

“I asked Bess if Gertrude had a man in her life,” Rebecca told him. “She says she thinks there might have been someone a long time ago, but that's only speculation on her part.”

“What do you think?”

That the right man could make a fool out of most any woman, Rebecca thought. Aloud she said, “Since I never met her I can't say. I'm thinking that I might be able
to glean some things about her whenever I start going through her personal papers. The spare bedroom is piled with boxes of old correspondence. When I sort through them, I might find old letters to friends or someone that mattered to her.”

“You've not dug into that stuff yet?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I've taken a quick glance at some of the things lying on top, but they all seemed to be bills and receipts. The past couple of weeks I've been focused on the animals, clearing the yard of junk and making the house livable.” Bending her head, she absently plucked at a tiny wrinkle in her skirt. “To be honest, Jake, I'm a little reluctant to dig into the correspondence.”

Surprised by her remark, he darted a glance her way. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Fear of the unknown, I suppose.”

He looked even more confused. “I don't understand, Rebecca. I thought you wanted to learn more about your aunt.”

“I do. When I first found out about Aunt Gertrude I wanted to find out anything and everything—all at once. But I—” She stopped and let out a long sigh. “Now, the more I dwell on it—well, sometimes I get the feeling that I might be better off not knowing. My mother has certainly made it clear that she wants to keep the past hidden. Maybe she's trying to protect me in some way.”

“From what? Gertrude wasn't a criminal.”

Sighing, Rebecca swiped a hand through her blond hair. “No. But, Jake, whenever you think about your father—maybe about searching for him—don't you get the feeling that you might not like what you find?”

“Hell yes. I think that most all the time,” he admitted.
“I guess that's why I've never gone on a real search for the man. I'd like to know why he turned his back on me. But finding the answer might tell me more than I want to know.”

“That's exactly what I'm thinking about Gertrude's correspondence.” She cast him a helpless glance. “Are we being cowardly, Jake?”

He grimaced. “I like to think we're simply being human,” he said.

Just being human. Jake's words continued to linger in her thoughts as the truck carried them toward a low rise of mountains. When she was near Jake she felt very human. And so much a woman. Whether that was good or bad, she didn't know. She only knew that Jake was the first man she'd ever allowed to see all sides of her, to view the woman she'd always kept curtained and private.

What did that mean? That he was simply a man that was easy to be with, talk to? Or was she falling in love with him?

Pondering that question, she looked over at his dark profile just as he pointed a finger toward the windshield.

“See that cedar post? You are now entering Rafter R land,” he announced.

There was pride in his voice and the sound made her happy. “Abe tells me you've worked very hard on this place. That it's turning into a ‘damned good ranch' I think were his exact words.”

“You've been talking to Abe again?”

“Yesterday. He came over with two of his ranch hands to haul away the junk I'd gathered together in the yard.”

“Well, I think I should warn you that you can't
believe everything that Abe tells you. The man likes to exaggerate.”

She watched a dimple come and go in his cheek. “I got the feeling that he enjoys telling a tall tale now and then, but in your case, I think I can believe him.”

He chuckled. “You're about to find out for yourself.”