Lone Star Rancher (11 page)

He took a long drink of the iced tea before scouting out the corn chips in the pantry. He set those on the counter along with the salsa and a jar of peppers. They worked in unison as if they'd been doing this for ages.

A man could get used to having a beautiful woman around, he admitted. He frowned, but the stubborn thought wouldn't disappear from his head.

 

“How are the wedding plans going?” Jessica asked Amy that evening after the greetings were over.

“I'm not sure,” she admitted with a rueful smile.

“She's a nervous wreck,” Steven interjected.

Amy sighed. “I thought it was difficult to plan the gov
ernor's function for Ryan Fortune, but everyone knew the date for that and that it couldn't be changed. Our wedding is like a Ping-Pong ball, hopping back and forth according to the governor's schedule, Ryan's schedule, Steven's parents' schedule…and the schedule of the police working on Christopher Jamison's mysterious death.”

Clyde passed around glasses of wine, then the four went out on the patio to relax before finishing the preparations for dinner. Jessica had already set out platters of chips and two dips, one made with cheese, one with salsa. The couples helped themselves to the appetizers.

“Don't tell me they still suspect Ryan,” Clyde said in obvious disgust of the officials' ineptitude, taking a seat beside Jessica at the patio table.

Steven shrugged. “If so, they don't have enough evidence to arrest him.”

“They should concentrate on finding the real murderer,” Clyde stated.

“I totally agree,” Steven said.

Jessica realized the two brothers were not only defensive on Ryan's behalf, but there was a genuine closeness between the men and their older relative.

That was to be expected, she mused. The triplets had spent a lot of time at the Double Crown while growing up. The fact that they'd chosen to live nearby spoke of strong family ties. She liked that fact about them. It indicated they would form lasting bonds within their own families.

Her gaze settled on Clyde as warmth spread from her heart to every part of her. He was wonderful in so many ways it made her giddy to recount them. Every day she was falling more and more in love with this strong, serious man.

Happiness echoed through her innermost being. It was so compelling she knew she was going to have to tell him her news soon or burst from the effort of holding it in. In
spite of the test kit, she was almost positive she was expecting. Her monthlies were very regular….

“What?” she asked, suddenly aware that the other three were looking at her.

“Shall I put the steaks on now?” Clyde asked.

“Whenever you're ready. The asparagus and dinner rolls will only take five minutes, and the potatoes are done.”

“May I help you do something?” Amy asked.

“Sure. I was thinking we could eat out here?” She shot a questioning glance at Clyde.

He nodded. “I haven't seen any mosquitoes, so we should be okay. We can go in later if we have to.”

Amy accompanied Jessica into the house. “Bowls are on the counter over there. The salad is in the refrigerator. That's the dressing.” Jessica pointed out the items while she arranged different kinds of bread in a wooden bowl.

“Have you enjoyed your visit?” the other woman asked. “Steven said you were returning to New York soon.”

“It's been a lovely, relaxing time,” Jessica affirmed. “But all vacations come to an end. I'll visit my family for a few days before returning to the city.”

“But you are coming to the wedding, right?”

Jessica nodded.

Amy finished dividing the salad among the bowls after tossing it with the dressing. She laughed softly. “I still can't believe Steven and I will be married next week. Thursday is only six days away.”

“Is your new home ready?”

“Just about. Most of the furniture is in. Pictures and things like that can wait.” Amy gestured toward the office across the wide foyer and the flowers in assorted containers in the kitchen and on the formal dining room table. “You've done quite a bit here. I've never seen the house looking so warm and inviting.”

“It's a lovely place, isn't it? Finding the shed filled with furniture was like stumbling upon a secret treasure. There's an old Victorian love seat I'm going to reupholster before I leave.”

“Clyde should give it to you as a thank-you for all the work you've done in setting up the office.”

An idea came to Jessica. “You should see if there's anything you can use in your new home. I saw a small table with a lyre base. The marble top was broken, but that can easily be replaced, if you're interested in something like that.”

“I am. We're still looking for a table to go in the entrance foyer. An antique piece would be perfect. You would have to extend your visit so you can show me how to refinish it,” Amy said with a sly glance and a definite twinkle in her eyes.

Jessica grinned. “Do I detect a matchmaking gleam in that innocent expression?”

Amy only smiled and looked wise.

“You and Violet,” Jessica said and rolled her eyes. “She's been trying to hook me up with one of her brothers for the past five years. She was very disappointed that Jack and I didn't take one look and fall head over heels for each other. She nearly browbeat us for not cooperating.”

When Amy didn't answer, Jessica glanced around. The two men stood at the door. “I've come for the steaks,” Clyde said, a tightness in his expression that hadn't been there earlier.

“And I've come to refill the wineglasses,” Steven announced. He refilled his glass, then his brother's.

“I thought we would start on the salads while the steaks cook,” Jessica said to Clyde.

He nodded, lifted the platter of meat and headed for the patio again. Steven followed.

Amy smothered a laugh. “He's jealous,” she said. “The
Fortune triplets have hard shells, but they're soft as butter once you get inside. Clyde locked his heart after his fiancée died, but it's time he opened up again.”

Jessica thought so, too, but for different reasons.

 

Overall, Clyde thought the evening had gone well. Jessica seemed to hit it off with Steven and Amy. But then she seemed to hit it off with everybody she met.

A flush of emotion startled him. He realized he was proud of her and the way she made others comfortable in his home. The house displayed all the feminine touches his mother introduced when she was there—flowers and baskets with dried grasses and pine cones, candles on the table.

The meal had been delicious, too. The dressing on the salad had been made by her.

There didn't appear to be anything she couldn't do. He wasn't sure if this pleased him or put him on the defensive. He couldn't even figure out why it mattered that he figure out an answer to his confused emotions.

Hearing the water come on upstairs, he stopped the circling thoughts, locked the doors and hurried up the steps. Jessica's door was open. He paused on the threshold and took in the room.

Everything in it spoke of her. The John Adams biography was on the bedside table. A pair of reading glasses rested on top of it. Hmm, he hadn't seen her wearing those. A single rose was in a bud vase. A sweater was tossed on the back of the chair next to the windows.

Inhaling deeply, he drew her scent into his being. She liked light floral fragrances. So did he, he'd discovered since they'd become lovers.

Lovers.

The very intimacy of the word painted passion-laden pictures in his mind of the way they touched each other.
Sometimes after making love, he simply liked to look at her and run his fingertips over her silky skin.

He'd learned a lot about her in the past few days. Where her tickle spot was. The way she liked to be caressed. When she was near the height of passion. He wondered what it would be like to live with her for a long time….

Realizing where his mind, already hazy with desire, was leading him, he cut the thought, and headed for the open door of the bathroom.

She smiled at him, then continued brushing her teeth. The blue nightgown shimmered as she moved, compelling him to move closer, to touch.

Ah, coolness, then the warmth of her body through the silk. He rested his hands at her hips, liking the tactile sensations, the sweet scent of her underlying the minty flavor in the toothpaste. He knew the taste of her, the feel, the aroma…the essence of her as a woman.

Unable to resist, he leaned forward and laid a hundred quick kisses on the back of her neck.

“No fair,” she spluttered. After rinsing her toothbrush and mouth, she quickly dried her hands and face, then turned to him. “A real kiss,” she demanded.

He delighted in doing as ordered.

The kiss was long and deep. It heated the blood and sent a swift hard arousal into his lower regions. She brushed against him experimentally, then with a little urgent moan, more forcibly.

“It's good to be wanted,” he murmured, kissing across her cheek to her ear and nibbling on the delicate lobe.

“It's overwhelming…to want this way…to feel as if…you're going to explode.” She kissed him at every little pause, then nipped along his neck.

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice thick and strained as desire drummed through him. “You make me dizzy.”

Her soft laughter sang through him like the sweet notes of a violin played by a master. “My knees are getting weak,” she warned, leaning into his embrace.

He could identify with that. Making love with her did all kinds of strange things to him. Lifting her, he carried her to the bed and, with a caveman growl, tossed her onto it and fell on top, catching himself on his knees and elbows so he wouldn't crush her slender form with his greater weight.

To him, she seemed fragile and delicate. He felt strong and protective in response. The emotion felt right…so right…so very right.

They made love with the intensity of those still new to each other, yet familiar enough to be comfortable in the knowledge of what each of them liked.

After a long while, when neither could hold out another second, he secured protection, then came to her in one slow, satisfying thrust. Like his most precious possession, he explored her with care and gentleness, then with greater force as she indicated she wanted more.

At last he gave in to her demands and moved to her rhythm, letting the tidal wave of need overtake them.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said in a fierce whisper, then gave a whimper and held her breath as the climax caught her in its passionate upheaval.

He let himself go with her.

The contentment was as pleasurable in the aftermath as the buildup and appeasement of hunger had been during their lovemaking. It was a long time before he could move.

After hours or eons—he couldn't say which—he unwrapped himself from their sleepy embrace and went into the bathroom. As he disposed of the condom, his attention was caught by a word on the box in the trash can.

Pregnancy.

Lifting the box, he read the information on it. He stared at the words while his brain tried to make sense of them. It was no use.

Pregnancy. Test. Kit.

The words sank into his stunned mind. A pregnancy test kit. In Jessica's bathroom. He felt as if he'd been sucker punched right in the gut.

He strode into the bedroom and stopped beside the bed. When she opened her eyes and smiled at him, he held the box so she could see it.

“What is this?” he asked in a very quiet, very controlled voice.

J
essica, warm and content, reluctantly opened her eyes. They widened of their own volition when she recognized the box Clyde held. “Oh, that,” she murmured, feeling both shy and excited at telling him her suspicions.

“Yeah, this,” he said, crossing the room and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

He tossed the box on the mattress, where it tumbled several times before coming to rest a few inches from her. She picked it up, gave him a rueful smile, then placed the empty container on the bedside table.

“Well,” she began, “after that afternoon at the lake, I, uh, thought I could be expecting. We didn't, uh…”

“Have any protection,” he stated bluntly, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Yes. Later, when I realized I was late, I went into Red Rock and bought the test kit. That was the day I ran into my sister and learned our picture had been in a na
tional tabloid.” She glanced at him to make sure he recalled the day.

He nodded. Her heart plunged at the grimness of his expression. “Are you pregnant?” he asked.

“I don't know.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her like he would shake the truth out if she didn't confess all.

“The test was negative,” she explained, gesturing toward the test kit.

He apparently heard the uncertainty in her voice. “But?” he questioned.

“But I'm still late.”

He blinked once as he took in this news, then he stared out the window at the night-shrouded sky. Finally he sighed and turned back to her. “Tell me the truth,” he said quietly. “Did you and Violet plan this?”

She shook her head adamantly. “No, never.”

He was silent for a long moment. Jessica held her tongue, too. He would either believe her or he wouldn't. From the set of his jaw, she was pretty sure she knew the answer. He laughed, a brief sound with no trace of humor.

“All right,” he said, but doubtfully.

Pushing herself upright against the pillows, she met his eyes without flinching. “I'm not your former fiancée,” she told him in a low, fierce voice, her temper rising at his obvious suspicions of her motives. “I'm not after your money. I have plenty of my own.”

“You said Violet had been trying to hook you up with Jack or one of us for years,” he reminded her.

A shiver ran down her back at his icy tone. She managed a wry laugh. “Your sister is a very dear friend, but her romantic schemes are not mine.”

He ran a hand around the back of his neck as if an ache gathered there, and gave her a keen but uncertain perusal.

“Whether you believe me or not is something you'll have to figure out for yourself,” she told him. “I honestly don't know if there may be a baby. If so, you don't have to worry. I won't ask anything of you—”

She blinked as he came toward her, his face inches from her, fury in the black depths of his eyes. “Any child of mine will be raised by me. That's a truth you can take to the bank. I would never run out on a kid.”

“I would never deprive a child of its father,” she said just as fiercely. “If he sincerely wants to take part for love of the child and not revenge on its mother.”

He bolted upright as if she'd slapped him. “Is that the kind of man you think I am? If so, I'm surprised you would choose me for father material.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake!” She threw the sheet back, climbed out of the cozy bed and paced the floor, pulling on the blue robe with self-conscious dignity. “I didn't
choose
anything. I didn't plan that episode at the lake. It was as spontaneous on my part as yours. Do you think only men lose their heads in the heat of the moment? Believe me, I must have been out of my mind to think that I…that we…”

He yanked on his underwear and jeans, leaving the latter unfastened, which she found alarmingly sexy, and faced her, arms cocked at his sides like a gunslinger of old ready to draw his pistols.

“That we what?” he demanded.

“That we were falling in love.” She rolled her eyes at the stark absurdity of the idea. “Don't worry. I'm cured of that notion.”

“You don't pull any punches, do you?”

The question was rhetorical, but she said, “I'm trying to be honest with you.”

He thought it over, then nodded as if he'd decided to believe her. “Okay, I'll give you that.”

She refrained from a snide thanks for his forbearance.

Pacing to the window, he stared into the darkness. “The question is, what do we do now?”

“We wait.”

“Wait?”

“To see if I'm expecting or just overanxious.” She managed a smile. “I've never found myself in this situation before. It makes a person a tad—”

She couldn't think of a simple word to describe the wonder and worry, the excitement and apprehension, the total uncertainty and joy of possible parenthood.

He heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I get the picture.” He paced some more, then stopped in front of her. “Look, we're in this together. I'll take responsibility for my part.”

“How noble,” she murmured.

Ignoring her, he rubbed the back of his neck. “There's a saying—‘Give me a child until he's seven and he's mine for life.' If we agreed to stay in the marriage that long, the kid would have a good start.”

She waited silently while he planned their future, her heartbeat a dull thump that echoed through her whole body.

“Most marriages that make it through the first year last around ten years. I read that somewhere,” he told her, so earnest she almost smiled.

She nodded instead.

“You seem to fit in here at the ranch. Cimma and her daughter will help me out with the baby when you have to go to a photo shoot or whatever.” He thought it over. “We can pick up a license Monday and get married right away.”

“No,” she said when he paused and looked her way.

“Why not?”

“First, we don't know if there is a child, so any marriage plans would be premature.”

His sudden smile caused her heart to lurch. “I think,”
he murmured, “we can assume there is. We're too potent together not to have results.”

A flush spread from her chest to her neck to her face and ears. Soon heat radiated in hot waves from her body.

He touched her cheek. “There are worse things,” he said with an arrogant smile.

Pushing his hand away, she paced the room. Finally she shook her head. “It wouldn't work. Let's take it one day at a time until we know what's what.”

He strode to the door, clearly impatient with her hesitation. “If there's a child, I will be a part of its life. A large part,” he stated.

Giving her a meaningful glance that was full of warning about the consequences if she should try to deceive him, he left the room. She heard him go next door, then the soft sound of his bedroom door closing behind him.

“So will I,” she said into the silence. Sinking onto the bed, she laid a hand on her abdomen and wondered exactly what fate had in store for them.

 

Clyde watched while Miles used the end of a rope to keep the cattle moving up the loading chute and into the truck that would take them to the big auction. When the beasts were inside, he helped the trucker close the door and fasten it securely for the trip to Houston.

He and the trucker agreed on the count, which matched the number on the computerized list. After signing the bill of lading, he headed across the cattle pen.

“I'll be back tomorrow night,” Miles told him.

Clyde nodded, checked the gate to the holding pen, then yawned. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight,” Miles told him. “Didn't you sleep well last night?”

Clyde grimaced. “I slept okay.”

“I thought Jessica looked tired this morning,” his brother continued when Clyde said nothing more. “What's happened between you two?”

Clyde shot his triplet a warning glance. He wasn't in the mood to discuss Jessica.

“Come on,” Miles drawled. “Even a blind man could sense the sparkle between you two. Now it's gone. Did you have a lover's quarrel?”

Clyde realized Miles wasn't going to be satisfied until he had the whole of it. Except he wasn't going to disclose that much. “Sort of.”

“What about?”

Clyde muttered an expletive. “I didn't realize you were so meddlesome.”

Miles shrugged. “I'm worried about Jessica. She came down here to get away from one obsessive guy. It hardly seems fair to have her heart broken by another.”

“Her heart isn't broken,” Clyde informed his nosy sibling. “Don't you need to get on the road?”

Miles ignored the suggestion. “So what's the problem?”

Clyde headed for the house. “I have paperwork to catch up on,” he said. “There's no problem.”

Miles grabbed his arm, stopping him before they reached the back door. “I think there is. The light has gone out of Jessica. She's sad. And trying to hide it.”

Pulling away from his brother's grasp, Clyde tried to deny any part in their guest's woes. He sighed instead. “She may be pregnant,” he stated bluntly.

A surprised grin broke over Miles's face. “Hey, that's great! So when is the wedding?”

“There's no rush. We're waiting to be sure.”

“You want to marry her, right?”

“Does it matter?” Clyde demanded. “Women put things into motion, then expect men to put them right.”

Anger lodged in his sibling's eyes, tightening the line of his jaw. Clyde could feel the harsh tension in his own face as eyes very much like his own stared at him.

Miles glanced in the kitchen window as if checking for Jessica. “You're a fool if you don't snatch her up,” he said in a low tone so his voice wouldn't carry.

“And then what? Happily ever after? Yeah, right.”

“Don't let what happened to you years ago ruin your chances at happiness now,” Miles advised.

“What do you know about it?” Clyde asked in a snarl, irritated with the whole conversation and with his brother for persisting in something that wasn't his business.

“There was no accident on the day you were supposed to pick up Claudia. No one died. Steven and I checked the newspaper. We think she stood you up. We wondered if you gave her money and she took off.”

Clyde glared at his brother.

“Ah, I see you did.”

Clyde shrugged. “I was a sucker for a hard-luck story. I'm not that stupid now. I hope,” he added, forcing a wry grin. “You and Steven never said anything.”

“It was your business. So is the situation between you and Jessica, but I'm going to butt in, anyway.”

Clyde didn't want any helpful advice, but he kept his mouth shut and waited for his brother to get it out of his system.

“Don't let a good thing get away because of past hurts,” Miles said with great sagacity. “Jessica is a square dealer. She doesn't need your money, so anything she feels for you must be real.”

“If only it were that simple,” Clyde muttered.

“Why isn't it?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” Miles asked, the usual amusement returning to his eyes as he needled his triplet.

Clyde held his temper with an effort. “She's feeling the pinch of time, that's all. So what happens five years down the road when she's tired and bored with kids and ranch life and all that? What happens then?”

Miles walked over to the door and paused with his hand on the knob. “Jessica isn't like that. She has a head on her shoulders.”

“Sometimes people lose their heads,” Clyde told him, recalling Jessica's words to that effect.

Miles grinned. “Is that what happened to you two? You'll figure it out, bro,” he said wisely and went inside. “Yo, Jessica, you here?”

Clyde, entering the house behind his brother, spotted Jessica by the steps. She was simply standing there, gazing out the front door window as if lost in thought. His heart roared up to mach speed.

“Hi, Miles,” she said, turning and smiling as if delighted at their company. “I saw the truck leave a moment ago. I thought you would be right behind it.”

“I'm giving it a head start,” he said. “You're looking beautiful this morning. As usual.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Her bright blue gaze flicked to Clyde, then back to Miles. “Have you had breakfast?”

“At dawn,” he said. “I thought I'd grab a mug of coffee and head out.”

Clyde glanced at the coffeemaker on the counter. A fresh pot of coffee was ready. Miles filled a plastic travel mug, gave Jessica a kiss on the cheek when she came into the kitchen, flicked a hard glance Clyde's way, then left.

The silence in the house hummed like a high-voltage wire after the door closed. In a couple of seconds they
heard the sounds of a motor, then the crunch of tires on gravel as Miles headed after the cattle truck.

“Have you eaten?” Clyde asked.

“Not yet.”

He was ravenous, he realized. But not for food. For her. For the taste and feel of her. “I skipped breakfast. I'll scramble some eggs for us.”

“I'm not hungry.” She didn't look at him. “There's really no reason I can't visit with my folks now. Roy hasn't found me, so he's probably gone on to someone else. It should be safe to leave.”

Her laughter was soft, fluttery. It made him ache inside in ways he couldn't describe. That was the trouble with women, he decided. They got a man in knots, then they took off for parts unknown.

“Violet will be here for the wedding. You'll have to stay until after that.”

Her eyes flicked to him. “Did she call?”

“Not recently. But she won't miss Steven's wedding. I assume she'll stay here. She likes the guesthouse. It's quieter than the Double Crown Ranch.”

Jessica nodded. “She says there're too many people and too many things going on to really rest there.”