Just Her Type (9 page)

She put an arm around his shoulders and was pleased when he did not shrug it off. Her gaze moved along his profile. It would be several years more before his face hardened into the features he would possess as a man, but she could see much of Cameron in him.

Cameron McCraven had not been easy to live with, but she had loved him. She had accustomed herself to having him gone for weeks. Only once had he spoken of what took him away from Bentonville. It had been the night their son was born. That night, he told her he was working to keep things quiet on the high ranges. Now that task was hers.

When a hand slid over hers, she lifted her eyes to meet Luke's ebony gaze. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but she had promised Cameron never to repeat what he had told her.

The choir broke into her uneasy thoughts. As she rose with the congregation, she wished she could speak to Reverend Manning about all this, but that was foolish. Despite his sermon, the church had been built with donations from Aaron O'Grady. With the school established by Jamison Rutherford and the general store owned by Forsythe Connolly, the cattle barons pervaded every aspect of their daily life … except
The Bentonville Bugle
.

As she walked out into the warm sunshine, she heard her name called. “Mr. Rutherford,” she answered, “you must be pleased with the interest in your bounty. Everyone is talking about it.”

He tipped his hat. “Mrs. McCraven, I have had more than one person come forth with information. However, the money goes only to the one who can bring the rustlers to me.”

“With their heads on a silver platter?”

“I'd rather have them alive.”

Mackenzie gasped at the demonic glow in his eyes. Of course, Mr. Rutherford was eager for revenge. She was as protective of the
Bugle
.

She excused herself to find Douglas and Luke. Hands steadied her as she bumped into a hard form. Her smile dimmed when she met Aaron O'Grady's blue eyes.

“Just the lady I was looking for,” he crowed.

“How are you, Aaron?”

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “That's to apologize. I wasn't much of a gentleman. Jealousy does strange things to a man.”

“This is hardly the place for this conversation.”

“Of course, darlin'.” His grin vanished. “We need to talk about that advertisement you printed for Rutherford. Can you take a drive out to the OG Star this afternoon?”

Withdrawing her hand from his, she said stiffly, “Aaron, the last time I went to your ranch, you—”

“It'll be all business this time, darlin'.”

Although she knew she should be cautious, she nodded. She saw Connolly gesturing widely as he let everyone within earshot know what he thought of the advertisement. She wanted to hear Aaron's opinions.

“Pick me up after lunch,” she said. “Luke is spending the afternoon with Douglas.”

He caught her hands again. “Better with your son than you.”

“Aaron! I thought you said this would be business.”

“This afternoon, not now.” He tipped up her chin and kissed her hard. “Don't forget you're my girl.”

She spun away, her cheeks blazing. She wanted to slap his face, but could not imagine doing it in front of the whole congregation. As she looked for Luke and Douglas, she did not want anyone to suspect how furious she was. Once she found out what Aaron thought about the advertisement, she would tell him what she thought of
him
.

Mackenzie saw Luke with her son by the road. She was surprised that Douglas had forgiven him. When she saw Douglas introduce Luke to Doc Langhorne and his daughter Lacey, she smiled. Douglas was about to be sure that Luke got his due. This was too good not to watch.

Lacey's daintiness was only an illusion. With blond hair and cornflower blue eyes, she resembled an angel, but she had a demonic streak. Her latent seductiveness had blossomed since she'd turned sixteen last year, and she was well aware of her power over men.

There had been rumors that the fatal gunfight between two cowpunchers on Connolly's spread had been over Lacey. Then there had been the suggestion that she had been seen riding with Mr. Rutherford's foreman, who was married with three toddlers and another on the way. Also …

Mackenzie shook her head. There had been rumors about her since Cameron had died. More than once, there had been the faint resonance of wedding bells for her and Aaron O'Grady. His kiss today would start them up again.

“It's a true pleasure to meet you, Miss Langhorne,” Luke was saying when Mackenzie neared.

Lacey slipped her arm through his. “Would an Eastern girl be considered forward if she asked a gentleman to join her and her father for dessert this afternoon?” Her insipid giggles halted when she noticed Mackenzie, but her hand remained possessively on Luke's arm. When Mackenzie greeted her, Lacey nodded with petulance.

“And you, Doc Langhorne, are you well?” continued Mackenzie.

“Very well, Mackenzie.” He was a pale wraith next to his daughter's beauty, his sallow skin and hollow eyes a poor advertisement for his medical skills.

“Will you join us for dessert, Mr. Bradfield?” Lacey asked.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Luke answered.

“At two.”

“I'll be there.” He smiled. “Mackenzie, shall we go?”

Lacey gulped. “I did not—”

“To the
Bugle
?” Luke continued as if Lacey had not interrupted.

Mackenzie hid her smile. As they walked along the quiet street, she asked, “Are you accepting Lacey's invitation to research an article?”

“Research?” Puzzlement creased his brow.

She laughed. “Is Lacey a bit of Western flavor you want to offer your readers back east or just something you want to sample for yourself?”

“She's only a kid.”

“She's husband-high, Luke. If you didn't notice Doc Langhorne looking you over, you'd better hone those reporter's instincts you brag about. Doc has vowed that she won't marry a cowpoke.” She patted his arm. “You may have saved him the necessity of traveling to Casper to get Lacey a beau.”

Luke frowned and glanced back at the church. Lacey was watching him as she spoke to Jamison Rutherford. “I think I should clear this up.”

“What do you plan to do? March up to Lacey and announce that you have no intentions of marrying her? Really, Luke!”

“I won't be railroaded into marriage because I accepted an invitation to have dessert.”

“You deserve this aggravation.” She laughed.

“Why?”

“I've never understood why men preen before girls half their age.”

“I wasn't preening.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you had a peacock's tail, it would have been fully fanned.”

“I like my women out of the nursery!” he retorted.

“Oh, really?” She opened the print shop's door. “Excuse me for being unaware of your vast experience in such matters.”

When he slammed the door behind them, the glass rattled.

“Luke, be careful. Glass is expensive. It—”

He twirled her to face him. How could she think he wanted a simpleminded lass when he could hold her? His gaze roved along her. Unlike her ink-spotted blouses and dark skirts, this light blue, sprigged cotton gown accented every inch of her. The plain bodice clung to her breasts and narrowed to the slender line of her waist. As the skirt flowed about his legs like a frothy stream, he drew her closer.

“You may be my editor, Mackenzie, but my private life is private.”

“Why?” She twisted out of his arms. “Why should you have the luxury of privacy when you've invaded my life? You came here and shook up everything.”

“Things needed shaking up.”

“Not this much. If—”

He clamped a hand over her mouth. When she tried to pull away, he wrapped his arm around her and kept her captive against him. “You've said enough,” he warned in a low tone.

“Not nearly enough!” she cried as she stripped his fingers away from her lips.

A slow smile oozed along his lips as he tightened his hold on her. As his finger under her chin brought her face up toward his, he whispered, “Yes, sweetheart, you've said enough, especially when you should be using your lips for more delightful things.”

“If you think I want to kiss you after—”

He crushed her mouth beneath his. Her breath caught, then came sharp and fast. Every muscle tightened as her soft curves caressed him.

“No!” she moaned as she averted her face.

He caught her face between his fingers. “Oh, yes, sweetheart. You want me as much as I want you. Why do you deny it?”

She pulled away. He reached for her again, but she scurried through the half-door to put the half-wall between them.

He leaped over the wall and cornered her between her desk and the press. With his hands on either side of her head, she could not slide away. When she tried to duck beneath his arms, he caught her arms and held her in place.

“Stop this!” she cried.

“When you stop acting like a child.”

“Me? You're the one who's chasing me about the shop.”

He spat a curse before he jerked her into his arms and kissed her with the yearning that was poisoning him. She was the venom and the antidote when she softened against him. She had cast her enchantment so completely, he could think of nothing but her. Raising his mouth only far enough so he could speak, he whispered, “I want you, Mackenzie.”

“Luke, I—”

“Don't say anything but yes.”

“No.” Mackenzie shook her head, fighting her yearning to say what he wanted to hear. “No, I can't.”

“Why not? You like it when I do this.” He bent to kiss her lightly. “And when I do this.” As he pressed her to the wall, his lips coursed along her neck. She trembled against him. “And I know you will like it when I do this.”

She gasped as his hand cupped her breast. As if her clothes had vanished, lightning hot quivers passed from his skin to hers. Slowly his mouth descended to cover hers. Holding her between the wall and his hard body, he caressed her with an eagerness which stripped every thought from her head.

All but one.
He is leaving Bentonville by this time next month
.

She propelled herself away from him and the madness. “Don't ever do that again. I won't be your fond memory of Bentonville.”

“Trust me, Mackenzie.” His face grew taut. “My memories of you will be anything but fond.” Turning on his heel, he went out, slamming the door.

Mackenzie collapsed onto her chair. Even as she was asking herself how she had let him touch her so intimately, she ached for his fingers. He must have infected her with his insanity, for she feared she was falling in love with this man who infuriated her more than anyone she had ever met.

SEVEN

Douglas drew in his pony in front of the doctor's neat cottage. Loathing twisted through him. Every time Ma brought him here, he had to take noxious powders for a week.

He stared at the bay tied to the hitching post, so he did not have to look at the two people coming out the front door. Perverse curiosity pulled his gaze back to the porch. He should be happy that Luke was courting Lacey Langhorne, for then he would leave Ma alone. Still, he knew it was not that simple. Not after what he had seen before lunch.

He had been coming in to get his baseball when he had heard raised voices. Although he should have ignored them, he had paused in the doorway. He had never heard such pain in Ma's voice, even the night she had woken him to tell him that his father was dead.

First, Luke had hurt Ma, and now he was wooing Lacey. Gritting his teeth, Douglas vowed that Luke Bradfield would pay.

Luke smiled when he saw Douglas. He was glad of any excuse to hurry away. Mackenzie had been right. Lacey was eager for marriage, but he had not expected to be pushing away her eager fingers beneath the table. The girls at Stub's saloon were less persistent.

He grinned at Douglas, then at Lacey. “Thanks. The dessert was excellent.”

Her voice softened, “Come back soon, Luke. We could go for a ride. Just you and me.” Her hand brazenly ran along his chest. “Come back tonight.”

“I don't have a carriage.”

“We could use Father's.” She walked her fingers along his sleeve.

He saw the truth in her eyes. Mackenzie had been right. As he looked at her curvaceous body covered in clinging silk, he knew Lacey Langhorne had set her sights on him and his ticket out of Bentonville.

“Sorry. I'm busy tonight.”

“Too busy for me?”

He considered giving her a lusty kiss. Getting mixed up with Lacey Langhorne would be stupid. And … The thought refused to remain unexpressed—he needed to square a few things with Mackenzie.

He tipped his Stetson to Lacey and murmured a farewell. Her eyes pierced his back as he walked to where Douglas waited. “Howdy, partner,” he called, copying the broad accent of the cowpokes. “I'm all set.”

“I'll bet you are,” grumbled Douglas.

“Problem?”

The youngster looked past him. “Not with me.”

If something about Lacey was distressing the boy, this was not the place to discuss it. Untying the reins of the horse he had hired, he mounted with ease.

Luke let Douglas set the pace. Dust was a thick cloud behind them. When they passed the sheriff's office, he waved to Horace. He smiled as he thought of the article he had written about the black sheriff in a town where there were no more than one or two black families and a handful of black cowboys. The
Independent's
readers would be astounded to learn how little bigotry there was here. Class here was based on the amount of acreage a man could claim.

Bentonville ended abruptly. Only grass and an occasional clump of trees broke the curve of the hills leading to the mountains. In a line as straight as if it had been drawn by a gigantic pencil, the railroad tracks crossed the wilderness. Phrases to describe this wild beauty formed in Luke's head, and he wished he had a piece of paper. He replayed them through his head as he tried to memorize them to write down later.