Oklahoma kiss (19 page)

      
"None whatsoever." Blair could tell by his deepening scowl he did not like being placed in this dilemma. She certainly did not care for the chicanery but without it, she was afraid nothing would have ever been the same between them.

      
"You're not mad at me?"

      
"I should be . . . but I'm not though. However, I do demand satisfaction."

      
"Oh? What will it be, pistols at twenty paces?" he countered testily.

      
She advanced toward him, an amused gleam in her eyes, her tone was teasing, "No, not pistols. Chess or checkers, it's your choice."

      
His eyes narrowed, his mouth twitched. "How good are you at checkers?"

      
"My brothers refuse to play with me if that tells you anything."

      
"Then I choose chess."

      
"I'll get the board and an extra chair if you'll
      
move those flower pots off that table."

      
"Agreed."

      
After being checkmated twice in a row, Adam leaned back against the swing and crossed his arms. He stared hard at her. "I suppose you conveniently forgot to tell me that your brothers refuse to play chess with you, too."

      
"No, I didn't forget, you just didn't ask."

      
Admiration edged into his voice, "Is there anything you can't do?"

      
Blair grinned. "Many things. What I don't do well, I try not to do in front of people." Raising one side of her upper lip, she shook her head and frowned. "That sounded very confusing, didn't it?"

      
"Yes." Grinning, Adam scratched the back of his neck. "What worries me though, I understood you perfectly. Whatever it is you are suffering from, it must be catching." Then he cocked his head to the side and held up a hand, cautioning her to be quiet. "Listen. That's Red barking."

      
Standing, Adam stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, then cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "Come 'ere. Red, come on, boy."

      
They distinctly heard his deep-throated bark long before they saw him running toward them in a lopping, floppy-eared, ground-covering gait.

      
Reaching the front steps, Red slid to a halt, sat down and waited for Adam's command. His haunches quivered with anticipation, his tongue lolled, his tail unmercifully whacked the rain-soaked earth with loud thumps.

      
"Come on up here, boy," he said, pointing to the spot in front of him. The dog obeyed, but made no attempt to whine, jump up on, or lick Adam. He did, however, continue to rapidly wag his tail.

      
Resting her chin on her hand, a faint smile touched her lips. It was enjoyable to see such a rapport between man and animal. She'd always had the opinion that much could be learned about a man by merely observing a dog’s reaction to him. "That's a fine-looking dog you have, and apparently well-trained too."

      
"Oh, he's just a mongrel," Adam replied affectionately, ruffling the dog's ears.

      
"I felt so sorry for him the first day when it rained so hard ... I started to ask you to come to the back door and tell him to go lie down somewhere. He was sitting out by the cellar, soaking wet and looking miserable."

      
"Why didn't you?"

      
"I was afraid you would insist on taking care of him, and you had no business being outside. So, I persuaded Jake to bring some hay over to the wash shed. We spread it over the floor and put out food and water; although he used the shelter, he never ate the food —I figured when he got hungry enough, he would eat." She critically surveyed his sleek body and gleaming coat. "It doesn't appear that he's gone hungry though."

      
Adam glanced at her as though that thought had never entered his mind. "The way I live, I never wanted him to be dependent on me, so I taught him to look after himself. When we're away from Fort Smith, he hunts for his own food."

      
Seeing a stick lying by the steps, Adam picked it up and threw it. Red immediately bounded from the porch to retrieve it.

      
Sensing she had been dismissed for the time being, Blair turned her attention to the pasture filled with multicolored wildflowers beside the house. She suddenly decided to go pick a bouquet for the table —pretty flowers had a way of cheering people up. Even though the rain had improved all of the hands’ spirits, she knew they were deeply concerned over the impending land rush—they all were.

      
"Adam, I’ll be back shortly. If Tillie starts looking for me, tell her I've gone to pick a bouquet of flowers for the dinner table."

      
Adam nodded absent-mindedly, continuing to play with Red.

      
Blair gingerly picked her way past the mud puddles, opened the gate to the pasture and closed it behind her. She could not help but think how she would have jumped over the fence four years earlier. Unless she'd had to ride a horse or drive a wagon through one, gates simply hadn't existed. Carefully avoiding the puddles of standing water, she made her way further into the pasture.

      
Adam finally sent Red on his way. Reluctant to go back inside the house, but tired of sitting, he restlessly paced about the porch, feeling troubled by so many unfamiliar emotions.

      
What was happening to him? He hated liars, yet lies and half-truths had been rolling off his tongue with ease. What he had told Blair earlier about preferring a solitary life was only half-accurate. While that was a vital part of his life, hell, he wasn't a hermit, he enjoyed people's company. He would also be the first to admit that at times, the trail was lonely—too damn lonely—but ever since he had put on his badge and sworn to uphold the law, he had been thoroughly satisfied with the way he lived. Why then was he questioning it now? Why did he suddenly feel like something essential had been missing from his life? And why had he allowed Blair to think he kissed her only because some fool chose another woman over her? Why in the hell should he be reluctant for her to know that he wanted to kiss her? It was unsettling to think that if it happened again, and if the circumstances were right, he might not be able to stop with just one kiss. His appetite had been whetted for much, much more. Blair was one hell of a woman, and apparently she had no idea of the effect she had on him. He had the strongest hunch it wouldn't be just him either. When the young men in the area got a good look at the beauty she had become, they would beat a path to her door.

      
That idea did not set well with him either. The thought of another man holding her in his arms and tasting those sweet, innocent lips was enough to make his blood boil.

      
Suddenly a muscle clenched in his jaw. He stopped his ceaseless pacing and plundered his hand through his hair, then massaged the back of his neck as though that would ease the prickly sensation creeping up his spine. He had the strangest feeling that something was wrong. He'd always had an uncanny sixth sense—that's why he was so good at tracking men down—but it rarely ever bothered him unless he was on someone's trail. He'd had this same feeling twice in Fort Smith, though, and each time an irate relative of a man he'd brought in to stand trial had been laying for him.

      
Carefully, he looked around but saw nothing that implied danger. Still, his strange feeling persisted.

      
"I’m going to go pick some flowers."

      
Jerking his head about, he saw Blair raising her skirts modestly while avoiding puddles of standing water as she gathered flowers. He saw no danger there.

      
"Come on, Adam, the drinks are on me!" Warren said as he bellied up to the bar, "I've just made the buy of a lifetime! I’ve been wanting that bull for three years now and I finally got Dub Causey down to my price. Yep, I'm going to haul or Lucifer home and let him romance my ladies."

      
"Lucifer . . . that's a hell of a name for a bull."

      
"That's right, and it's well deserved, too. That bastard's mean! He gored one of Causey's men, then trampled him to death. That's why he's getting rid of him. Well, I think his wife has a lot to do with it, too. They have small children and I suspect ol' Lucifer got after one of them. Since there's no children at the, ranch, though, we won't have that to worry about."

      
"What kind of a bull is he?"

      
"He's half brahma and half longhorn, that means a superior tick- and heat-resistant, sturdier breed of cattle, which is precisely the kind of livestock I need to concentrate on raising. Yep, soon as I get ol' Lucifer home, he's going to start raising hell!"

      
Still troubled, Adam stared across the field at Blair. Why had he thought about that conversation he'd had with Warren? It had been at least two years ago since it had taken place.

      
Then Adam knew. It felt as though a hand had suddenly reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart. Yesterday, he'd overheard Warren tell Jake to move Lucifer to the north pasture. The same pasture where Blair was picking flowers!

      
Not wanting to frighten her, he hurried to the end of the porch, cupped his hands around his mouth and called to her, "Blair, come here." He motioned with his hand.

      
She raised her hand and waved. Even in the distance he could see her smile. "In a few minutes, I am almost through."

      
"No, come on, now!" he shouted urgently, looking for the bull but not seeing him. That was little consolation, though; the pasture was big and it ran well into the dense brush and tree line. Lucifer could have been anywhere among the trees or brush. And Blair had no business being in the pasture with him; he had already killed one man.

      
"I said, in just a few minutes."

      
Adam's heart all but stopped beating when he leaned over the railing and saw Lucifer running in an agitated frenzy along the tree line. By his behavior it was apparent that he had seen Blair.

      
The beast was a fearsome sight. He was gray in color, and his horns spanned at least six feet from tip to tip, then curved slightly upwards. His forelegs were short and muscular, while his hind legs were much longer and leaner, which allowed him to run faster. Heavy folds of hide lay on the underside of his neck, while on his back was a muscular hump.

      
"Goddamn it, Blair, get out of there!"

      
Blair's gaze had followed Adam's to the tree line. She had seen the bull about the same time Adam did. Her blood ran cold. Having been around livestock most of her life, she knew regardless of what she did, the bull would probably charge.

      
The field was so muddy, it sucked at her feet. She'd never be able to run fast enough to avoid him, or to make it to the fence before he reached her. If she froze, he would still eventually charge. Either way, she was in serious trouble if help did not arrive soon.

      
She helplessly looked at Adam, her face ashen. Although his feet were healing nicely, he could hardly walk without the aid of the cane. Besides, he was unarmed and several hundred yards from her. There was nothing he could do.

      
Knowing she could not just stand there and do nothing, Blair took a few hesitant steps toward the fence then stopped abruptly when the bull began pawing at the ground —a sure sign he was about to charge.

      
Oh, my God! He’s digging my grave! she thought to herself.

      
"Mr. Cahill, you can start washing up for ..."

      
Hearing Tillie, Adam spun about. "Go ring the dinner bell!" he shouted. "Ring the hell out of it!"

      
"Why, Mr. Cahill . . ."

      
"Goddamn it, woman, ring it ... or whatever you do to summon help. Blair's in trouble!"

      
Tillie's eyes widened when she saw the bull running toward Blair.

      
Adam saw it, too. Without thinking, he whipped his shirt off, leaped over the porch railing and started running toward the fence, yelling at the top of his lungs and waving the shirt over his head.

      
Lucifer stopped and blew through his nose; he looked at the man then at the woman, as though he was trying to decide which one to attack first. He lowered his wide horns and charged at Blair, who was now running toward Adam and the safety of the fence, her face stricken with sheer terror.

      
He vaulted the fence with a fluid ease and ran toward them, still flailing the shirt in the air, desperately hoping it would distract the bull.

      
Lucifer caught Blair with a glancing blow which sent her sprawling to the ground, then he turned his attention toward Adam.

      
She was not seriously injured, yet she knew to remain perfectly still since the bull was so close by. If she moved, he'd come charging at her again with those deadly horns.

      
Adam was vaguely aware of a ringing bell and a distant clamor of excited voices, but he knew help might arrive too late. As long as he and Blair kept their wits about them, there might be a chance.

      
When the bull advanced slowly toward Adam, he took a few steps backwards. Then, when the bull backed off, Adam took a few steps toward him. It was a deadly game of cat and mouse, and he was getting further and further away from the safety of the fence. Adam knew Lucifer could charge in earnest at any moment. He also knew if he only could work him away from Blair, she might be able to escape.