Lone Star Bride

She pulled away, and he allowed it, removing his hand from her head to hold her shoulder, lest she leap to her feet and disappear. “What do you mean?” she asked. And then blushed as if his words had finally penetrated her mind. “Legal? Like in marriage?”

“Like in marriage,” he said quietly. “I’ve learned not to leap into the fire ahead of the bucket brigade, sweetheart. I’m not into taking a virgin’s prized possession ahead of time. I can wait.”

She flushed even deeper, her face rosy, her eyes widening. “You can wait? You surely can, Mr. Webster. For the rest of your life, as far as I’m concerned. Don’t try to kiss me again. I won’t have it.”

With another smooth, lithe movement, she stood and looked down at him. “I wish you a good night’s sleep, Mr. Webster. And unless a rattlesnake should come calling, you’ll probably be just fine in your blanket roll.” Not looking back, she strolled from his side and made her way to the chuck wagon, where Cookie sat on a bench, drinking a cup of coffee.

He looked up at his visitor and smiled a welcome, apparently asking her if she wanted to join him in toasting the night with a mug of her own. Alexis nodded and sat beside him, watching as he bent to pour another cupful from the pot over the flames. She took it from him, smiling with a dazzling display of white teeth, and then set about charming the old man, laughing at his words, drinking his coffee and knowing full well that James was watching.

He could almost read her mind, he decided. He’d named her rightly. She was a flirt, a woman without fear of being scorned by any man, and it was just his luck to be besotted by her. Even as he watched her, his hands itched to touch her perfect skin, to run his fingers through the length of her golden hair. She’d coiled it up atop her head in a braid, and he fantasized about taking it down, undoing the braid and fluffing it around her shoulders and down her back.

He wanted to kiss her again, and the memory of her soft mouth, of the sweetness of her flesh, was a spur in his hide, a burr beneath his saddle. He could, as ranch foreman, as overseer of the whole place, demand that she leave the camp in the morning, once the sun rose, and make her way back to the ranch house.

For her own protection, it would be the best idea. And yet, it would take her from his sight, from his hearing. That laugh that rippled on the air would be gone. The green eyes that sent him mixed messages would be miles away, and he would yearn for her presence here, no matter how she aggravated him and played havoc with his life.

The woman was exactly what he’d been looking for, during all the years when he played the field, when his methods had been so heartless, so uncaring to the females he’d loved and left behind. Now, this little girl…no, this woman, he thought, had turned his brain to mush, his manhood to iron and given him a foretaste of a sleepless night, one in which he would mentally seek out her bedroll and crawl in beside her.

He watched her as she rose and left the camp cook, wending her way through the three campfires that burned, each of them warming several men, each of whom owned admiring masculine eyes, all of them aimed in her direction.

When she’d made the half circle that brought her past his position, he called her name, softly, but with enough sound to carry to her listening ears. She halted her progress and looked at him, unmoving.

“Come here, Alex,” he said. And wonder of wonders, she did as he’d asked. Although commanded might be a better term, he thought.

“What do you want?” she asked, standing before him.

“I want you to unroll your blanket over here, near mine,” he said firmly. “I’m planning to keep an eye on you tonight.”

“You’re going to look after me? I doubt that.”

“You’d better believe it, honey. I don’t want your daddy on my tail should anybody cause you any trouble out here.”

“These men all know me. They know better than to give me any grief.” Her words sounded firm, but he sensed a thread of doubt in her posture, her hands stuffed into her pockets, her eyes shifting around the area surrounding them.

“Even so, Alex, I want you over here. I want to be able to see anything that happens during the night. And in case you’re going to protest, I’ll tell you right now that I’m a light sleeper. I don’t miss much.”

“I’ll just bet you don’t.” Stalking to where she’d stowed her bedroll, near the chuck wagon, she brought it back, halting about six feet away from him, then rolled it open and sat down. “Happy now?” she asked.

He deigned to answer, only shooting her a complacent look, guaranteed to make her stew, designed to fuel her fires of anger.

It was late when Jamie sought his bed. The girl who’d rolled up in a blanket near him was breathing evenly, her mouth partially open, soft sounds escaping in the night. “I’ll bet she’d be madder than a wet hen if I told her she snores,” he muttered to himself.

And decided that was one bit of information he’d do well to keep to himself.

“Coffee’s on.” It was the universal call of the chuck wagon, welcomed by all within the sound of Cookie’s voice. Jamie was no exception. He rolled from his place on the hard ground and made quick work of folding his bedroll, then placing it inside the wagon where he’d stowed his gear.

A head of golden hair, reflecting the sun’s earliest beams, lay almost completely covered by a blanket, and the owner was curled within the folds of the drab covering. “Alex. Time to get up,” Jamie said quietly. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Not hungry,” she muttered, pulling the corner of the blanket higher to better cover her head.

“You need to eat. Come on now.” Jamie walked to her, crouched beside her and tugged at the blanket. A pair of blinking eyes tried to focus on his face, and he laughed with a healthy sense of amusement he hadn’t felt in a long time. “You look like a baby owl,” he whispered, lest he be overheard by any nearby men.

“Thanks so much, sir,” she said, sitting up amid her rumpled blankets. “I’m sure I’m a sight to behold this morning.”

Jamie grinned wolfishly. “You have no idea, ma’am. No idea whatsoever. Let me just say that I wouldn’t mind seeing you every morning just this way.”

“Fat chance of that,” she snarled, her words angry, uttered in a voice that growled them aloud.

Jamie was entertained by her bad temper. He wanted to bend down to her, kiss her out of her bad mood and then tumble her back to the ground and hold her firmly in his embrace. And where had that thought come from?

It was morning, there was work to be done, men to be directed, horses to be saddled and calves to be roped. Hopefully today would finish up the job. They’d been at it for two days already, but it was getting to be cleanup time. Only a few of the calves and young bulls were still unbranded. In a rope corral, they awaited their turn with the branding iron or the clamp that would ensure their placid behavior over the next year, or until they were sold as steers on the market.

Alex rose stiffly, as if her muscles protested the hard ground, and then bent to retrieve her blankets, folding them quickly. She turned to Jamie, her bedroll over her arms before her, her eyes still blinking at the bright sunlight that assailed them from the eastern sky.

“I want you to be careful today,” Jamie said quietly. “You’re my responsibility, and I don’t care how many times you’ve helped with the branding, it’s still a dangerous place for a woman. Don’t get hurt, Alex, or your dad will have my neck in a noose.”

“You’re treating me like a child,” she told him.

“I know very well that you’re not a child, but I’m trying to make you see the effect you have on the men when you’re working with them. They’re all aware that you’re a woman, full grown, but they’ll keep an eye out for you, wanting to protect you from harm. I’ll tell you this just once. Don’t cause me any trouble or I’ll be after you quicker than you can say ‘scat.’”

Her eyes widened again as he spoke and then she looked aside. Hell, if he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d hurt her feelings.

“I know enough not to get in the way,” she said quietly, walking away toward the chuck wagon.

Jamie felt a moment’s pause, retracing his words and then her response to them. He’d been harsher than he’d intended. And above all, he wasn’t trying to frighten her. Only make her aware of her impact on these men.

On him, if the truth be known.

The men finished up their work by midafternoon, and with the satisfaction of a job well done, they packed up camp and headed back to the barn, a ride of two hours or better. The chuck wagon came last, Alexis riding with Cookie, her horse tied on behind.

Jamie could find no fault with her behavior today, he decided, riding just ahead of the chuck wagon. She’d been the soul of discretion, quiet and subdued, and he wondered if she were angry with him, with his long spiel this morning, when he’d effectively told her he would use his strength against her should she disobey him.

The thought shamed him. He’d never hit a woman in his life, never raised a hand against a female, no matter what the temptation. And he wasn’t about to begin now. Especially not with a woman he’d set his sights on. And that thought was enough to bring him to a halt. He’d just decided that marriage was not on his agenda, hadn’t he?

And now he was flirting with the idea of tying himself down with Alexis Powers. Somehow the loss of his bachelor freedom seemed not so tragic as it had a while ago.

Hell, he’d changed his mind almost overnight, letting the girl get under his skin, considering the lure of her slender body, her soft, plush mouth that tempted him mightily, and now he was thinking of the dreaded “M” word. Marriage.

And wouldn’t Connor laugh at him if he could see him now. Connor, his older brother, his idol in childhood days, his friend as an adult. Connor had found his true love almost ten years ago, and after the mess Jamie had caused, Connor had married her and shared two children with her.

And Jamie was still wandering the world, unattached and lonely. Maybe it was time to change things, he thought, the vision of Alex before him. And then she was at his left side, the chuck wagon pulled up even with his horse as he rode at a slow walk.

“Something wrong?” Cookie called, his voice a teasing drawl. “Your horse go lame? Or are you just loafin’ along?”

“Just thinking,” Jamie said quickly, his eyes not straying to the woman who sat only a few feet away from him. “I’ll move along a little faster.” With a nudge of his heels, the stallion broke into a trot and Jamie rode ahead. The horse had been champing at the bit for a half hour or so, and now with the reins loose in his rider’s hands, he took advantage of Jamie’s lax behavior and tossed his head, switching his tail and side-stepping a bit, as if he challenged his rider.

It was enough to bring him back to the present, and Jamie allowed the horse his head, leaning forward to urge the stallion on to greater speed. As if he knew his rider’s mind, the sleek ears twitched back, his breathing took on a deep, stentorian sound and he flew like the wind, past those who rode more placidly ahead of him, then across the landscape to where a line of trees proclaimed the presence of a stream of water.

Jamie welcomed the sight. Tired and dirty, he’d spent the past three days without a bath, with aching muscles and a case of lust gnawing at him. The shelter of willows was welcoming, and he drew his horse to a halt almost a mile from where the rest of the riders moved on toward the ranch house and barn. The water was clear, not deep, but certainly abundant enough to get himself clean.

With little hesitation, he tied his mount to a tree branch, then stripped off his clothing and waded into the streambed. Cold and clear, the water welcomed him, and he knelt in the deepest spot, splashing his body lavishly with the clean flow. He doused his head, bending to rub his scalp beneath the surface, then lifting his head and shaking the water from it, allowing it to fly where it would. He wiped his face with his wide palms, and bent to his knees, relishing the cool wash of the stream as it rushed past him, the water seeming clear enough to drink. He dipped his hands into it, scooped up a double handful and lifted it to his mouth.

“I’ve got a perfectly good canteen filled with well water I’d be willing to share with you.”

He shook his head again, certain he was hearing things, that his mind was playing tricks on him. And then he turned and looked into green eyes that mocked him, a laughing face that challenged him. She was sitting not far from the bank of the stream, knees lifted, her hands folded atop them, barely able to keep her mirth subdued.

He looked like a Greek god, Alexis thought, as he rose from the streambed, naked and shimmering in the light, the water sluicing off him as he stepped closer to the bank.

“Did anybody ever tell you that you were nothing but trouble?” he asked, and then his eyes narrowed as she faced him, unafraid. “What are you doing here?”

“Which shall I answer first?” she mused aloud. And then grinned. “I told Cookie I wanted to get on my mare for a while, and he accommodated me.” Her mouth seemed to be full of cotton, her breath nonexistent as she searched for words to speak in answer to his first query.

“As far as being ‘nothing but trouble,’ no, not really,” she said finally, hurting that he thought of her in that light, his scornful look making her feel small and insignificant before him. He’d walked from the water and stood just in front of her, unashamed of his nakedness, it seemed, and unwilling to turn aside from her scrutiny.

He was magnificent, black-haired, blue-eyed and, altogether, a giant of a man well over six feet tall. Not that he was built on bulky lines, but she’d noticed him, tall and tapered from shoulders to hips, long legged with taut thighs under denim pants that seemed to have been made for him. He was enough to make a woman’s mouth water, she’d thought, her mind a fog.

And now he had shed those trousers before he went into the stream and right before her eyes was the proof of his masculinity, bold and brazen, obviously ready for business.

“Why don’t you put your clothes on?” she asked, noting the uneven tenor of her voice.

“I was here first,” he told her. “I didn’t invite you to invade my bath. But since you have, you’ll have to take the consequences.”

She felt her heart pick up speed. Whatever he meant by that enigmatic statement was up for grabs. And she wasn’t about to ask any questions as to his meaning. Instead, she gathered up her things and rose. Now, as never before, she sensed his power, his strength, the force of his masculine being, and she rued her impetuous behavior.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted you. I’ll leave.”

He took her arm, not in a tight grip, but firmly enough so that she knew she could not escape him should she try. “Why don’t you stay, now that we’ve become better acquainted?” he asked.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said quickly.

He laughed and turned her to face him. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, well I suppose I do, but I don’t agree. The fact that I’ve seen you naked doesn’t make our acquaintance any more welcome to me.” She tried to look anywhere but at his body, but the brush of dark hair on his chest tempted her to touch the curls and weave her fingers through the lush length of silky fur he wore. It narrowed into a slender arrow, pointing downward, and she knew without looking just what lay in that direction.

“You’re blushing,” he said quietly. “Am I to assume you’ve never seen a naked man before?”

“You’d assume right,” she answered, with heat still rising in her face.

“Well, don’t let me hinder your first experience,” he said softly, his other hand moving to wrap long fingers around her shoulder, then drawing her closer.

“Don’t,” she said harshly. “I’ll get all wet.” Then she wondered if it might not be worth it to have his body against her own.

His laughter mocked her. “Does that matter? Don’t you want to know what sort of danger you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“You won’t hurt me,” she told him, looking up into blue eyes that were amused at her expense.

“Maybe not, but then again, they tell me that a woman’s first time is usually painful,” he said softly. His slow enunciation of words, the mellow tone of his voice lulled her a bit, but she rallied quickly. He was laying it on pretty thick, but unless she was mighty mistaken, he wouldn’t take any chance of her father chasing after him with a shotgun.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, wondering at the quiver in her voice.

“Aren’t you? Then why are you trembling?”

Her hands had rested against his chest and as she watched, her fingers fought to be still, her body shook as if it were chilled from a summer cold.

She felt her mouth twitch, knew a moment of despair then bent her head, knowing she owed him an apology, hoping it would appease him so that she might leave. “Please let me go, Jamie. I’m sorry I intruded. Just let me—”

Her words were cut off abruptly as he bent to her, one hand forcing her head erect, so that their eyes met. His mouth was hot, and open against hers, and his scent, that of a male who has seen his mate and intends to blend his body with hers, enveloped her.

How did she know? What inner sense allowed her to so easily judge the aroma of an aroused man? But, all her confusion aside, she knew she was in imminent danger, not only from the man who held her, but from herself. For she welcomed his kiss, leaned into his embrace as though it were the answer to her prayers, and now his questing male member was making its intention known against her belly.

Fear of the unknown sped down the length of her spine, and she leaned away from him. “Don’t do this to me. Please,” she whispered. And felt, to her amazement, his hands fall from her as he stepped back, offering her the freedom she’d begged for.

“Go on. Catch up with the chuck wagon. I’ll be right behind you, Alex.”

Without a second thought, she darted away, running to where her horse was tied and mounted quickly. The mare ran like lightning, as if she’d been set free to do as she pleased, and Alexis clung to her like a burr, unable to sit upright, content to hold on with tenuous strength to the dark mane, ignoring the reins that dangled.

Behind her, she heard his shout. “Alex. Get ahold of those reins and slow that horse down before you get dumped.” And then his words were lost on the wind that blew past her ears. Smart enough to heed his warning, she soothed the mare, reaching low for the reins, forcing herself to sit erect in the saddle, gaining control over the madcap fashion in which she’d allowed the animal to behave.

The mare snorted, shivered and tossed her head, unwilling to comply with Alexis’s command, but trained well enough to obey the reins that held her down to a canter, and finally to a walk.

She felt his presence right behind her, and she touched the mare’s barrel with her heels, urging her into a faster pace. Ahead of her was the sanctuary of the cook wagon, where she would be safe from the man who followed her. For all his audacity, he would not infringe on her now, but she felt the need of a buffer, and Cookie would serve well.

Pulling her mare down to a trot beside his perch on the high seat of the chuck wagon, she signaled to Cookie and he drew the vehicle to a crawl. With the skill of a woman used to horses and the ways of a ranch, she brought her right leg over the saddle and stepped up on the wagon. The reins in her hand were easily tied to the seat and her mare trotted alongside without a hitch.

“Well, you sure haven’t forgotten how to do that,” Cookie said, grinning a gap-toothed smile in her direction.

“I grew up here,” Alex said. “I can do most anything the men can do on this ranch.”

“Well, I’d say you were a sight better at blindsiding that new foreman than anyone else on the place.” He laughed as if he’d observed the shenanigans by the streambed. “I saw you chasing off after him, Alex. You want to watch your step with that one. He’s a sharp fella, and he’ll give you a run for your money.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” she said scornfully.

“No,” he said slowly, “I don’t expect you are. But you’d better respect him. He’s no fool and he’s not about to put up with your teasing him.”

“I didn’t tease him,” she said, disgruntled at his words.

“No, of course you didn’t. And the sun didn’t rise this morning, either. Just watch yourself, honey. Your pa don’t need to be running after that man with a shotgun, but I think he’d do just that very thing if you make the wrong move. I wouldn’t push the fella too far, is what I’m trying to say.”

“I’m old enough to take care of myself, Cookie,” she said sharply. Her old friend saw too much, was too wise to ignore what he saw and didn’t mind expressing his opinion.

“Yep. I’ve heard that story before, Alexis. Just mind your step now. Let’s not have a full-scale war on our hands, with your pa mad as a bull chasin’ a red flag.”

Chapter Three

“What went on out there?” Hank asked, his eyes sharp as they scanned Jamie’s face, catching him right after breakfast when Alexis had taken her leave.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” And yet he was pretty clear on the gossip the men had carried to Hank this morning. Jamie had been the focus of bad jokes and sidelong glances from the men, and he’d be a fool if he didn’t recognize that they were wondering what had gone on, what had brought the chuck wagon and its occupants, and the lone rider that followed, back to the barn more than an hour later than was expected.

“You know damn well what I’m asking you,” Hank said. “The men said they saw you riding off toward the stream and when Slim looked back, Alexis was riding hell-bent for leather after you. You were late getting back to the barn, and Cookie’s not talking. So I’m asking you. Did you spend time alone with my girl?”

“Why don’t you ask her? She was the one who followed me, not the other way around.” He took a deep breath and met Hank’s dark gaze. “Yeah, I spent a few minutes alone with her, but she’s just as pure and virtuous as she was when she rode out to the north forty. I made her unroll her blanket near me the night she spent out there, so I could keep an eye on her, and we talked. Of course, there were half a dozen men within hearing distance, and I smelled like a horse and cow patties, so I doubt I was very appealing to a woman of her caliber. I’d suggest again that you ask her.”

“I did.” Hank gritted his teeth and then grinned. “She’s a scamp, James. Loves to lead men around by the nose, and I think she sees you as a challenge. I want to know why she followed you to the stream.”

“I can’t answer for her, and I won’t try,” Jamie said flatly. “But I’m smart enough to keep myself in the clear, Hank. I’m not looking to have you pointing a gun my way. I’m not messing with your girl. At least I’m not trying to get into her bed. I think a woman like Alex is better suited to marriage than a quick roll in the hay.”

“Well, that’s about as blunt as you can get. You got plans to marry the girl?”

“That’s not what I said. I’m not sure she’d go along with the idea anyway.” Jamie dropped to the top step and leaned against the corner post of the porch roof.

“Maybe I’ll ask her what she thinks of the idea,” Hank said with a measuring look. “You ready to settle down yet, Webster?”

“I’ve got a job to do here. I’m not about to get tangled up with a woman, no matter how appealing she is. Ask me that question again in a couple of years.”

“Hey, boss. What do you want done with those yearlings?” Woody approached the porch and posed his query in James’s direction.

“I’ll be right out. I’d say we ought to put them in the far pasture, keep them separated from the others while we work with them.”

“What are your plans?” Hank asked, his interest aroused by James’s words.