Texas Tender (31 page)

“Don't you ever think of yourself first?”

“All the time.”

“When? Ever since I've been here, it's been Carl or the ranch. Now it's Junie Mae. What about you? Don't you want anything for yourself?”

Jordan had planted oaks as well as junipers to form a screen between the house and the other ranch buildings. Will disturbed a meadowlark when he led Idalou through a clump of junipers. They stopped at the corral.

The contrast between her ranch and Jordan's was obvious in the secondary buildings. While she had one corral, Jordan had three. While she and Carl had a total of three horses, Jordan had a dozen in one corral alone. The bunkhouse was larger than their house had been. Looking around her, she wondered why her father had thought he could ever compete with McGloughlin and Sonnenberg.

“Of course I want things for myself,” she told Will.

“What?”

When Carl had asked her that question, she'd rattled off an answer without giving it much thought. But she hadn't believed what she'd said. She couldn't conceive of a time when the ranch wouldn't be her responsibility. She didn't know a single man she would consider marrying, so children were out of the question.

Then Will had come along to change all that. Or at least make her see that the possibility of change existed.

“I want someone to love me,” she said, “but that's no different from everybody else.”

“True, but for some people, other things are more important than love. They'd trade it for money, security, freedom, youth, or beauty. What would you trade it for?”

She knew the answer without having to think. “If it was real love, the kind that would last until the breath left my body, I wouldn't trade it for anything.”

“Do you believe that kind of love exists?”

“Yes. I saw it with my parents.”

“Do you believe it's possible for you?”

Except for Carl, she wasn't sure anyone had ever loved her that deeply, not even her parents. Webb hadn't, and he was the only one who'd ever said he loved her. Looking back on it now, she believed he was just saying words that neither of them fully understood.

“I believe almost anything is possible,” she said, “but that doesn't mean the odds against it aren't very high.”

“Do you think you're worthy of that kind of love?”

Why did he keep asking her these probing questions? Webb had never done anything like that. He'd always been looking for things that were fun.

“Everybody is worthy of love.” She turned to face him while leaning against the corral. “Some of us just find it hard to believe that anybody loves us the way you're talking about. Do you believe you're worthy of love?”

“I don't know, but I know I want it. I also know I'm willing to do a lot, give up a lot, to find it.”

“What would you give up?”

“Living where I want to live. Owning my own ranch.”

“Those are mighty big things to give up.”

Will moved a little closer, placed his hand over hers. “I believe the kind of love I'm looking for is worth almost any sacrifice. Don't you?”

Idalou was afraid to let herself even think of the possibility of a love such as that. If she thought for one moment it was possible for her, she'd probably abandon all loyalties and responsibilities. “I don't know. It seems a lot to ask.”

“Maybe I can convince you.”

Idalou had been prepared for Will to kiss her. She
wanted
him to kiss her. She'd been waiting for it to happen again, so she didn't understand why his taking her in his arms and kissing her should seem like a totally new experience, why her mind should react with mild shock.

She felt as if he'd enveloped her, not just put his arms around her. When he pulled her against him she felt the heat of his body. Will might appear to be calm and very cool on the surface, but underneath he was like molten lava.

His lips were gentle, almost tentative in his exploration of her mouth, but each response on her part was met by an increasing intensity. Until his kisses turned hungry and demanding. More shocking was her response. She was equally hungry and demanding. Some restraint had been released, some permission had been granted.

She didn't stop to think that she was standing in the open locked in a crushing embrace with a man
she had never seen until a few weeks ago. She didn't stop to think what people would say. She didn't stop to think of any consequences. Simply put, she didn't think at all. She just let herself respond.

Will broke off their kiss, pulled back until he could look into her eyes. “That wasn't so hard, was it?”

She shook her head.

“Were you thinking about the ranch?”

“No.”

“About Carl?”

“No.”

“Jordan, the bull, Mara, Van—”

“I wasn't thinking of anybody but you.”

Will smiled. “That's what I was hoping you'd say. Now do you think you can like me more than a little bit?”

“I already do.”

“Enough to let me kiss you again?”

“More than that.”

“How much more?”

“Enough to want to find out if what you feel for me is more than liking.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I don't have much experience. I guess I was depending on you.”

Will held her a little tighter. “You can always depend on me.”

Without realizing it, she already did. All of her talk about being independent of any man, of not needing a man, was just talk apparently. She had certainly started to listen to him, even take his advice.

“I don't really know much about you,” Idalou said. “I didn't need to know anything when all you wanted was to buy the bull, but now that . . .” She didn't know how to continue. She couldn't say
now that you want to marry me
because he hadn't actually
asked her to marry him. Even though she liked him very much, she wasn't ready to think about anything like that.

“Now what?” Will asked.

“I don't know. That's the problem.”

“Do you have to have an answer now? Can't we just like each other for the time being?”

How much time would that be? She wasn't interested in having a relationship with a man who would disappear in a few days, even a few weeks. “Why would you ask that? Have you changed your mind about your feelings for me?”

Will smiled in that way that nearly always caused her brain to disconnect. “Isabelle says I very rarely change my mind because I can't be bothered to think through any situation more than once.”

“Why do you like me? I know the reasons you gave, but people don't like other people just because they're honest or do good deeds.”

“I could ask why you like me.”

“I'm not sure I do, not the way you mean.” She turned away. “I'm trying to sort everything out, but it's not working.” She looked back at him. “I do like you, and I don't mean just because you're handsome. You're kind, thoughtful, and patient.”

Will looked unhappy with that assessment. “You make me sound like a preacher.”

She reached out, covered the hand resting on the corral fence with her own. “I thought I was in love with Webb, but now I know I wasn't. I thought I disliked and distrusted you, but I was wrong. I'm in debt to you for saving me as well as saving my ranch.”

“I don't want—”

“I know you don't want me to like you
for
those
things, but I like you because you are the kind of man who would
do
those things. But I'm having a hard time deciding if I would like you if you had never done any of those things.”

“How would you know I'm the kind of man who would
do
those things if I hadn't
done
them?”

“That's my problem.”

Will's laugh was so hearty, she couldn't help feeling a little hurt. “You think too much,” he said. “Before Jake and Isabelle got married, they argued up and down about practically everything. She owed him for giving her orphans a home, and he owed her for taking care of him when he nearly died. She thought he was cruel and heartless, and he thought she had no idea what it took to survive in Texas, but they never let any of that get in the way of their love for each other. It was something they felt so strongly,
still
feel so strongly, nothing else mattered.”

It seemed impossible that she could ever love like that. It required too much selflessness, too much giving of herself. She'd fought too long and hard to gain a certain level of independence, confidence in herself, even a degree of respect in the community. How could she give all that up?

Yet there was something about Will that wouldn't let her stop hoping she could find a reason to feel about him the way Isabelle felt about Jake. He was so . . . dependable. Every time she needed him, he seemed to appear. When she was at a loss for a way to handle a situation, he came up with a solution. Though he disagreed with her in lots of ways, he never ignored her opinions. And he liked her so much, everyone in Dunmore could see it. She didn't know why it had been so difficult for her to believe what everybody else seemed to know. Will loved her.
That had to mean he wanted to marry her. All she had to do was wait for him to say the words.

“I got a letter from Isabelle today,” Will said, releasing her hands.

Idalou was thrown into confusion.

“I'd asked if she and Jake would let Junie Mae and her baby live with them for a while,” Will explained. “Now that I'm moving out, they'll be sorta lonely in that big house all by themselves. Isabelle said she couldn't wait. I'll be leaving Dunmore in about a week and taking Junie Mae with me.”

Idalou felt as if she'd been lifted out of a saddle and slammed against the ground. She could hardly breathe. She felt paralyzed, unable to move. She'd opened up, allowed herself to believe she could love Will, that he could love her enough to want to marry her. Now he was leaving and taking another woman with him. It was just like Webb turning his back on her all over again. How could she ever have been so stupid as to open her heart to this man? She knew he was much too handsome and sophisticated for a country girl like her. He could marry virtually any woman he wanted. Why had she believed he could want her to be his wife?

Shocked, hurt, and embarrassed, she found herself running away before she realized what she was doing. She wanted to find some dark corner where she could hide until she recovered enough to ask Carl to take her home. She heard Will call to her, but she didn't stop, didn't slow down. She wanted to get so far away he could never find her.

“Stop!”

She felt Will grab hold of her wrist. She tried to wench it out of his grasp, but he was too strong. He forced her to halt, to turn and face him.

“What's wrong? Why did you run away?”

How could he ask such a question after what he'd said? “Because I'm a fool,” she threw at him. “A fool to believe that you could really love me. A fool to believe you could want to marry me. A fool to—”

Will cut off her protests by taking her in his arms and kissing her like she'd never dreamed possible. Her brain, hopelessly befuddled by two abrupt turns of events, gave up. A small voice warned her that she was behaving foolishly, but she couldn't stop herself from returning Will's kiss. She might still have doubts about his feelings for her, but right now that didn't seem to matter. She couldn't reject the comfort of his arms, the affirmation of his kiss. Foolish or not, she needed both desperately.

“Do you still think you're a fool?” Will asked when he broke off their kiss.

Idalou was too dazed and confused to know how to answer. She was running headlong toward disaster, and she couldn't do anything to stop herself. “I don't understand,” she said. “One moment you say you love me, and the next you tell me you're leaving in a week and taking Junie Mae with you. I don't know where I fit in your plans, or
if
I fit in them. You haven't said—”

Shouts coming from the house shattered her chain of thought. She heard Mara's fearful voice shouting Carl's name.

“Something's wrong with Carl,” Idalou said.

Will grabbed her hand and they headed for the house at a run. When they passed through the juniper thicket, she could see Van and Carl fighting in the middle of a circle of onlookers. By the time she reached the circle, some of the older men had pulled them apart.

“You're ruining Mara's birthday party,” Idalou said when she reached Carl.

“
He's
ruining her party,” Carl shouted, pointing at
Van. “The damned fool can't tell when he's not wanted.”

“You're the one who's not wanted,” Van yelled back. “You never have been.”

Mara hovered between the two men, apparently undecided as to which she ought to go to first.

“Tell me what's going on,” Idalou demanded of Carl. “You look a mess.”

Carl's coat was half off one shoulder, his shirt was coming undone, and his tie was twisted to the side. His hair was falling in his eyes, and a bruise was forming under his left eye.

“Van has been dogging my footsteps all evening, taunting me, poking his finger in my chest, telling me Mara will never marry a penniless cowhand.” He pushed Idalou away when she tried to straighten his tie. “I can dress myself,” he snapped. He tucked in his shirt ignoring his tie. “I finally got fed up with it and pushed him away. That's when he hit me.” He fingered the bruise under his eye. “The bastard caught me when I wasn't looking.”

“Did you say something to make him angry?” Idalou asked.

“He's mad that Mara has gotten over her crush on Will and she likes me again.” Carl straightened his coat. “Do I look all right?” he asked Will.

“You will as soon as you comb your hair and I straighten your tie.”