She gasped at the unexpectedly intimate remark and felt her face go hot.
His eyebrows lifted at her expression. “Well, my God, I do know what sex is,” he said.
“I didn’t say a word,” she chewed off.
“You were thinking it,” he said. He smiled tauntingly. “I didn’t find Katy under a cabbage leaf.”
Her eyes fell away from his. The discussion was getting far too intimate for her taste. She knew hardly anything about intimacy except for what she’d read. And the last person she wanted to learn that kind of lesson from was Jude Langston. She couldn’t picture him being either patient or tender with a woman.
“Is Katy matchmaking?” he asked after a minute. “She deserted you.”
“Her friend Deanne called,” she murmured.
He scowled. “Deanne is a city kid. Very sophisticated for her age. I don’t like Katy associating with her.”
“Why, because she wears dresses?” she asked. “Is Katy going to run the ranch for you when she grows up, bullwhip and all?”
He just stared at her until she dropped her eyes. She’d never been able to outglare him, not ever, and it rankled.
“I wish she’d been a boy sometimes,” he said, surprising her. “But that wasn’t her fault.”
“She’s going on ten,” she said quietly. “The age of parties and pretty dresses and boys is coming along down the road. It would be sad if she was excluded from all those things because she was too tough to fit in. Wouldn’t it?”
He glared at her and threw down his cigarette. “Why don’t you mind your own damned business? Go arrange some flowers or something. That’s all you’re good for!”
He got down off the fence, and tears stung her eyes as she did likewise. She turned on her heel and stomped back off toward the house.
A piercing whistle split the air and she stopped and whirled. “What!” she yelled.
“Go into town and get some clothes. I’ve opened an account for you at Joske’s.”
She caught her breath. Things were moving fast. Too fast. “I don’t want any, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” he said carelessly. “If you want to be married in your slip, it’s your business.” He turned back to Bandy.
“I’m not going to marry you!” she yelled at him.
“You are if I can’t find another way to get those shares!” At that, she almost scooped up a rock and threw it at him. But she knew Jude too well, so she didn’t.
* * *
By the end of the week, it was sadly apparent that there were no loopholes in Bess’s mother’s will. Jude came in Friday afternoon looking as if he’d like to tie her to a stake and roast her. Instead, he ordered her into the living room and closed the door behind them.
“There’s no way out except marriage,” he said without dressing it up. “We can’t break the will unless we can prove mental incompetence, and your family attorney assures me that we can’t.”
“No,” Bess said, “she was in her right mind up until the very end.”
He picked up a book on the table by the window and abruptly slammed it down on the highly polished surface. “Damn it, I don’t want marriage!” he cursed, glaring at Bess.
“Well, don’t blame me,” she shot back. “I didn’t drag you off out here and try to force you into it. I’d just as soon forget the whole thing!”
“So would I, but I’ve got to have those damned shares, and soon. It’s no use fighting me, Bess.” He rammed his hands in the pockets of his gray slacks. “I’ll talk to a minister about the ceremony. We can have it at San Jose, if you like.”
“At the mission?” she asked. Her eyes brightened a little. “That sounds nice.”
“Then you’ll agree to the marriage?” he asked quietly, and she knew he was in deadly earnest.
“I don’t seem to have much choice,” she replied. “And you’re right—Katy does need a woman’s touch. And I need her. I don’t have anyone else to love now that Mother’s…” She broke off, trying desperately to keep the tears from falling. “She was all the family I had in the world.”
He turned away, obviously uncomfortable at her show of emotion. “You’d better go to the printer and get some invitations sent out. I’ll have my secretary make you a list of people to invite.” He glanced at her. “Do you want your stepsister to come?”
“No,” she said without thinking.
He laughed shortly. “Somehow, I didn’t think you would. But you owe her the courtesy of telling her about the marriage. She is your only living relative.”
“I will.” Several weeks from now, she added silently.
He studied her. “You don’t like Crystal, do you?’
“Neither would you, if she didn’t worship the ground you walk on,” she said with bitter sarcasm. “Crystal’s main ambition in life is to keep Crystal happy and comfortable. But men don’t notice that very often.”
“No,” he agreed, “they’re too busy noticing how much woman she is.” His eyes went up and down Bess’s slender figure. “She puts you in the shade, doesn’t she?”
Not for the world would she have let him see how much that hurt. She smiled coolly and turned to leave the room.
“So proud,” he chided. “So poised. Does anything ever ruffle you, society girl? I’ll bet you’d be that way in bed with a man, all cool discipline and—”
“Stop that,” she bit out, glaring at him. “How I’d be is none of your business.” She stopped, her eyes uncertain.
He laughed shortly as he read the fear in them. “Don’t get your hopes up, Bess. You don’t turn me on. It won’t be a marriage in that respect.”
“Thank God,” she muttered, opening the door with her back to him so he couldn’t see her hot cheeks.
“I can’t imagine you blazing with passion,” he said thoughtfully. “Some women are born cold, I expect.”
She closed the door sharply behind her and went to her room before he could see the tears that refused to be held at bay any longer.
* * *
Two days later Bess and Katy made a trip into San Antonio. Joske’s, where Jude had set up an account, was one of the biggest department stores in town, crammed full of delicious clothes and accessories. Bess, determined to make the best of the situation, threw herself into trying to decide what she wanted. Katy looked bored with the whole thing, and wanted to stay out in the parking lot across the street with Bandy, who’d been volunteered to drive them to town.
“But I have to have help,” Bess had protested. “It’s partly your wedding, too. After all, you’re going to be bridesmaid.”
That had caught the young girl’s interest momentarily, but after Bess had worked her way through half the dress department, Katy was getting restless.
One of the salesladies finally suggested a dress with a Mexican flavor, a gauzy white creation with hand-crocheted lace around the neck and the short puffy sleeves and around the bottom. It was like a peasant dress, but exquisite. Perfect. When Bess tried it on and posed for Katy, the young girl caught her breath.
“Blondes sure look good in white,” Katy said with a smile. “Gosh, you’re pretty, Bess!”
“Thank you, darling. Now,” she said, “next we’ve got to find something for you.”
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