Revenge (11 page)

Skye raised a shoulder. She didn't share her sister's love of horses—especially mean-tempered ones—and had no idea who Dani was working for this week. “I don't have a clue.”

“Casey McKee. Can you believe it? She wants me to help train the mean bastard, and he decided rather than accept the bit to take a bite out of my arm.”

Dani was working for Max's younger sister? “I thought she did all her own horse training.”

“Too busy right now, I guess.”

“Didn't you tell me once that Casey McKee was a spoiled brat?” Skye towel dried her hair and grabbed clean underwear from her drawer.

“That's right.”

“But you're working for her? I thought you wanted nothing to do with the McKees.”

Dani, standing in her bra and panties, grinned, “That's right, but I'm not going to turn down their money. Somehow taking money from those bastards seems like the right thing to do.” She kicked her dirty clothes toward a hamper and rummaged around until she found her bathrobe. Slinging it over her shoulders, she said, “You know what the latest McKee scam is, don't you?”

“Scam?”

“Come on, Skye, you type all the papers. You've got to know that he and some of his bigwig partners—Judge Rayburn's one of them—have cooked up a deal to weasel Fred Donner out of his water rights.”

“I don't believe—”

“Why not? Wildcat Creek runs through the Rayburn spread and the Rocking M as well as the Donner homestead.” Dani shot Skye a look over her shoulder. “Your boyfriend, Max, has his fingerprints all over that deal, and it looks like Fred Donner and his family might have to move even though his family's lived there for over a hundred years.”

Skye pulled on a plain cotton sweater and a pair of jeans. “I don't believe it. I typed a document for the company....” What had it said? It was clearly about water rights, but what was it?

“Read the fine print,” Dani advised. “I talked to Fred's wife, Vickie, and she's sick over what happened. Trouble is, she and Fred can't afford a big-city lawyer like Daddy McKee's got in Max.” Dani clucked her tongue. “If you ask me, it's criminal.”

“I don't believe it.”

“Believe what you want to believe, but old Jonah McKee is an A1 bastard. Haven't you figured that out yet? As for your precious Max,” Dani said, throwing on her robe and heading across the hall to the bathroom, “you know what they say. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”

 

Dani didn't stay for supper. She had a date, didn't say with whom, and ran out to the front of the house the minute a huge black pickup pulled into the drive. “Whose rig is that?” Irene asked, lifting herself up from the couch and staring out the window as the truck pulled away.

“I don't know.” Skye placed a plate of chicken and dumplings on a TV tray and positioned it, along with the remote control, near the couch. She felt a little guilty leaving her mother again, but she and Max were supposed to have dinner together—just the two of them. The way things were going, if Jonah had his way, this might be their last time together.

“Dani doesn't confide in you?” Irene struggled into a sitting position and muted the television with the remote.

Skye shook her head. “She stopped doing that a long time ago. What would you like to drink. Soda? Milk? Iced tea?”

“Just water. I worry about her, you know,” Irene said on a sigh. “I worry about both you girls.”

“Just look after yourself, Mom. We're old enough to take care of ourselves.”

“Are you?” She picked up her fork as Skye poured her some water from the pitcher on the table. “Sometimes I wonder.”

 

By the time she'd reached the lane leading to the McKee ranch, Skye's stomach was in knots. Hands clamped on the wheel, she drove through an open gate emblazoned with the brand of the Rocking M and along a paved drive lined with hundred-year-old oak trees and a split-rail fence. “Give me strength,” she prayed as a single-story ranch house came into view. Stained a warm brown, with white shutters and trimmed in river rock, the McKee home had originally been a single room, which had been added onto and remodeled until there were now two wings angling off the entrance. A wide porch faced west, shading the house from the afternoon heat.

Skye parked her car near the garage and breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed that Jonah's Jeep was nowhere in sight. She was hopeful she could avoid another confrontation with him.

She rang the bell and stiffened her spine, certain that Jonah would throw open the door and fly into a rage. Instead, when the door opened, she stood face-to-face with his wife, Virginia. She was a tall blonde, with warm brown eyes and an easy smile. “Come on in,” she offered, waving Skye inside the rambling ranch house. “Max, Skye's here,” she called over her shoulder.

Skye heard footsteps, but they were light and quick, unlike Max's heavier tread. Within seconds, Max's sister, Casey, rounded the corner. Shorter than Skye, with dark brown hair banded away from her face and a quick smile, she grabbed a worn jean jacket from a peg near the front door. Her face lost color at the sight of Skye. “Oh, God, is Dani okay?”

“She'll live,” Skye said.

“You're not here because she was hurt?”

“Max invited Skye over,” Virginia said, her brows pulling together. “Now what's this about Dani?”

Casey blew her bangs out of her eyes with a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I asked Dani to help me with Buckshot. She was here a little while ago and he tried to take a nip out of her.”

“I told you that colt was too mean to keep around,” Virginia said in a sudden flash of anger. “He's vicious.”

“He just needs to know who's boss. That's why I called Dam.”

“A lot of good it did.” Some of Virginia's cordiality was wearing thin. “Where's your brother, anyway?”

“Last I saw him he was outside with Jenner.”

At that moment, there were footsteps on the front porch and Max came striding in through the open door. Wearing faded jeans, a work shirt with the sleeves shoved over his forearms, he graced them all with a crooked grin before his gaze landed on Skye. “Didn't mean to keep you waiting.”

“I just got here.”

Virginia said, “I was just going to ask her to have dinner with us.”

“Another time. We've already got plans.”

“Yes, I know. Kiki told me,” Virginia responded, then touched Skye on the arm. “But the invitation stands. You'll have to come out here, maybe with your family.”

“I'd like that,” Skye replied, though she knew it wouldn't happen. Jonah was the ruler in this family and there was no way he'd want her to sit at his table like his or Max's equal.

“We'll see you later.” Max shepherded Skye into the kitchen where the sounds of country music battled with the rumble of the dishwasher. The air was thick with the fragrances of cinnamon, coffee and fried chicken.

A thin woman with steel-colored hair was placing plastic containers into a picnic hamper while chicken sizzled in a frying pan on the stove. “I don't know why he needs all this,” she said, fussing. “Easier to eat at the table, if ya ask me.” Spying Max out of the corner of her eye, her pinched lips twitched a little. “Everything's done, but I can't be blamed if it gets cold by the time you sit down.”

“It's fine, Kiki, really. Thanks,” Max said, sweeping the hamper from the kitchen counter. “Much appreciated.”

“Just see that all my things get back here.”

“No problem.”

He ushered Skye out the back door and helped her into his truck. “Your father's not here?” she questioned as he drove through the opened gates of one of the pastures near the house. A pair of ruts cut through the dry grass, and cattle and horses, locked away by an intricate set of gates and fences, grazed in adjacent fields. The truck bounced through the dry grass and over a small knoll.

“My father's working.”

“In the office?” Skye asked, remembering Jonah as he'd left.

Max shook his head. “Meeting in Dawson City, I think.”

“And you didn't have to go along?”

“I couldn't,” Max said with a widening grin. “I had a date with a beautiful woman and no one, not even Jonah P. McKee, could convince me to break it.”

Oh, Max!
Jonah's words spun through her thoughts.
You're not the woman for him. You can't give him what he wants. He needs children
—
a son.
Her throat grew thick and hot tears threatened her eyes. He settled a hand over her knee and smiled at her and she melted inside. Could she deny him a child? Why not adopt? If an adopted baby wasn't a good enough grandchild for Jonah, well, to hell with the old man. But she was getting ahead of herself. Max hadn't asked her to marry him, hadn't even hinted they could have a future together.

And yet his hand was warm against her thigh, the glance he sent her confident and secure. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the dash and slid them onto his nose as the sun lowered over the western hills. “You take over,” he said, braking for a gate.

He climbed out of the truck, slid the latch on the aluminum gate, and standing on the bottom rail, let the gate swing open. Skye put the pickup in gear and drove through, watching in the dusty sideview mirror while Max closed the gate. Tall and lean, with jeans that rode low on his hips and skin as burnished as tanned leather, he was handsome and ranch tough. No big-city lawyer, but a man weathered by the elements who could brand a bawling steer or draw up a legal contract with the same amount of ease, a man who was comfortable in faded jeans, or button-down collars and three-piece suits, a man at home on the wide open range or in the glass-and-steel towers of the city.

“Weren't you afraid I might leave you?” she asked after he climbed behind the wheel.

His smile was crookedly seductive in the hot interior of the truck. “Never.”

“Never?”

He leaned over, the tip of his nose touching hers, his lips hovering just above her own. “Never,” he whispered again and she felt her diaphragm slam up against her lungs. She thought he would kiss her, but instead he shoved the truck into first and drove through the pastures of bent grass and wildflowers.

“Aren't you going to tell me where you're taking me?”

“It's a surprise.”

“I don't like surprises.”

“Sure you do. Everybody does.”

The ruts were less visible now and long blades of dry grass and weeds brushed the underbelly of the truck. They drove along the bank of Wildcat Creek until the water widened at the shallows.

Max turned into the creek.

“Hey, what're you doing?” she cried out, wondering if he'd lost his mind.

“Trust me. It's not very deep.”

“Don't you people believe in bridges?”

“Not when we don't need 'em.” The truck sloshed through the creek and climbed the bank on the far side where the road seemed almost nonexistent and a forest of pine and scrub oak grew on a low ridge of foothills. Finally they connected with a more defined gravel road and turned onto it. The stony drive curved through a stand of pine trees and emptied into a clearing. A house, as yet just concrete foundation, wood frame and plywood floors stood backdropped by the forest.

“What's this?”

“Home,” Max said proudly. “Or it will be someday.” He cut the engine and helped her out of the truck.

“I didn't know you were building a house,” she said in amazement. The smell of milled wood and sawdust mingled with the dry scents of the forest.

“You thought I'd live with my family forever?” He laughed. “No way.” Taking her hand, he guided her up a ramp leading to the front door, or the opening where a door would eventually be hung. “Come on in and I'll show you the place.”

He guided her through the living room, den, kitchen and dining area, then helped her up a wide flight of stairs to the second floor where the rooms were marked with studs.

The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving gold shadows throughout the forest. The sky, visible through the open rafters which were waiting for a roof, turned a deep shade of lavender.

“This is the master bedroom,” he said, scooping her into his arms and carrying her inside. The room was large, with a bay window overlooking what would someday be the backyard and a bathroom as big as the bedroom she shared with Dani. He set her on her feet and gazed into her eyes. “I wanted you to see it.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The words hung in the dusky summer air.

Her heart squeezed and she wanted to protest, but his lips found hers and he kissed her. Her breath was caught in her throat and those words, those magical, wonderful words, spun in her mind. He wound his fingers through her hair as she kissed him back, and when she finally lifted her head, her heart was pounding wildly, her insides beginning to melt.

“I love you, too, Max,” she whispered, and they tumbled to the floor.

He kissed her neck and eyes while his hands delved under the hem of her cotton sweater to scale her ribs and stroke her breasts. He slipped the sweater over her head, made short work of her bra and guided her hand to the waistband of his jeans. “Make love to me, Skye,” he whispered roughly against her ear.

She smiled up at him. “Always,” she replied before his lips crashed over hers again. She meant it. She would love him now and always.

She clung to him as they made love and nestled her head against his shoulder afterward. Staring up at the stars through the open beams of the unfinished roof, Max held her against him and she felt the caress of a breeze wafting through windows without any glass. “I could stay here forever,” she sighed contentedly and he squeezed her arm.