Lone Star Bride
“He’s telling you he has things under control out there,” Alexis said with a laugh. “That’s Red Mick, the leader of the whole bunch, whether they like it or not.”
“The fillies don’t seem to mind,” James observed, as one of the dark, graceful animals touched noses with the young stud they discussed.
“They’re foolish creatures, not even suspecting what’s ahead for them. When they’re all tied up waiting for his attention in a couple of years, they’ll not be so docile.”
“That’s a female for you,” James teased. “Always ready to give a man a hard time.”
They turned from the door and walked down the aisle to the tack room, where James hung his lariat and stripped off his gloves. Dropping them on the small area he used for minor paperwork, he turned to Alexis, who had followed him through the door, into the small room.
“You’re in trouble, coming in here with me,” he said quietly.
“Am I?” She faced him without a trace of fear, only anticipation lighting her eyes.
“You know what you’re doing?” he asked.
“Do you?” And then she smiled. “Yeah, I’d say you probably do, James Webster.”
Gripping her arm lightly, he bent to her, drawing her close, melding her soft curves against his own muscular length. She was amenable to his touch, fitting her body to his without hesitation, moving a bit as if she would mold herself closer.
“Watch out, sweetheart. Too much wiggling will get you in trouble,” he warned her, his voice low and husky.
“Show me,” she murmured, lifting her face to his, inviting his kiss.
He obliged her, taking his time as he covered her lips with his, brushing the soft pliant flesh and then begging entry with coaxing probes of his tongue. She obliged, a sense of surprise apparent, and he hesitated, as if he would not take advantage of her. And then she sighed and he lost his better judgment, finding her sweet and inviting, seeking out the hidden places that formed her mouth.
His kiss was long, heated and damp, and he feared he had frightened her with the intensity of his desire. But apparently not so, for she clung to him, her arms encircling his neck, her face tucked into the bend of his shoulder, as if she invited his caresses.
His mouth touched her cheek, her closed eyelids and the line of her brow where small curls formed and the heat of the day brought a faint line of perspiration to dwell. She smelled of hay and horse, an aroma not unpleasant to him. Yet, beneath her skin was the scent of woman, that elusive, faint essence of female allure that drew men to their fate.
And he was no different than any other man, he decided. Alexis was exactly what he’d traveled so many miles to find. Courting her was the next step. Convincing her father of his worth would be a task James would have to work at, if he ever planned to win the woman he held in his arms.
“Jamie?” She tipped her head back and eyed him quizzically. “What are you thinking about? Your forehead is all wrinkled and you look like something has you all riled up.”
“Just you,” he said, allowing a smile to take residence on his lips. “I’m trying to behave myself. How did you say it? Keep my hands to myself. You make it pretty hard, ma’am.” And then he laughed aloud as he recognized the truth of his statement, and drew back from her lest she be frightened or insulted by the blatant nudge of his manhood against her.
“You don’t frighten me,” she said boldly. “And I kinda like your hands right where they are, Jamie.”
He felt the line of her back beneath his fingertips, the flaring of her hips, the narrowing of her waist, and as he slid his palms upward, knew the fullness of her breasts against his chest as he measured her width, his fingertips touching at the center of her back.
She was silent, unmoving, as if any bit of protest from her might halt his meandering. And so it might. For he was in uncharted territory here, he realized.
His hands slipped to her ribs, then forward just a bit, cradling the weight of her breasts against his thumbs. It was all he could do not to clasp the softness, but he thought better of it, and wisely left it for another time. For there would be another time.
Of that he was certain.
Chapter Four
Bringing trouble down on himself was not Jamie’s intent, and so he’d backed off in his pursuit of Alexis over the following two months. She was a joy to watch, a natural. Her patience with the yearlings was beyond what James had hoped for. She pampered them, coaxed them through their paces and treated them as if they were her children, petting, hugging and talking to them in an almost nonstop litany of praise as they performed to her commands.
She was a born horsewoman, with an innate sense of rightness when it came to dealing with her charges, no matter their moods or behavior. He gladly gave Alexis her due as their trainer. She’d accepted his program without argument, had gone along with his ideas and was the talk of the ranch hands. If they secretly admired James’s control over her, they did not let it be known. If they were jealous of his long hours in her company, they kept it secret. And yet, he was the subject of pointed looks from the men who worked for him, but who still took his orders without question.
If Hank suspected there was anything going on in the training sessions that was directly opposed to his daughter’s care and safety, he kept it to himself, only questioning James about the success of the yearlings’ training. To Hank, James was openly willing to praise Alexis for her work.
And work she did. For several hours each day, she did as James instructed her, brushing, currying and in all ways tending the yearlings. They came to know her well, recognizing her scent as she approached the pasture, running with coltish grace to where she awaited them, always with a carrot or bit of apple for each of them.
And they performed well for her, gave her what she demanded of them, and were soon ready to go on to the next phase of their training. Alexis was light, probably not weighing much more than a hundred pounds, James figured. She was not tall, but petite and slender, agile and quick in her movements.
She leaned against the horses, bent low to stroke their bellies, picked up their feet, one after another, preparing them for the handling they would receive as mature animals. They had to learn to accept being shod in another year or so. Men would brush them, lead them, handle them, expect much of them in the future. It was Alexis’s job to see to it that they were not shy around others, that they would accept another’s hands on them.
She possessed a rare sense of communication with the animals, and with that in mind, he thought to utilize her in his work with the three-year-olds.
“Would you like to give me a hand, Alex?” he asked her. They were at the breakfast table, a meal cooked and served by the cook, a buxom lady named Ellen, brought out from town to fill the job Alexis no longer had the time nor inclination to do.
“Doing what?” she asked, buttering her toast and then reaching for the jam jar.
“Getting the three-year-olds used to a saddle and rider.”
Hank spoke up quickly. “I don’t want my girl dumped by an ornery horse. That’s a man’s job.”
Darting a warning look at Alexis, James grinned at Hank. “Don’t you think Alex can do as well as any of the men on the place?”
“In some ways,” Hank allowed, eyeing Alexis warily, as if he recognized that his quick refusal had caused her to bristle.
He was right. She was stewing quietly, but her temper was close to the boiling point as she listened to the two men discussing her. Jamie had given her more responsibility than she’d expected, allowing her a free hand with the yearlings for almost two months. With a mental pat on the back, she judged she had done a job that no one could find fault with.
The ranch was the proud possessor of a dozen or so yearlings, all easily handled, all trained to walk, trot and lope at the end of a rope, on command. They carried a blanket and sometimes a twenty-five pound weight on their backs, and would become accustomed to that before the poundage was increased.
“Why don’t I have the chance to answer your question, Jamie?” she asked, as the conversation came to a halt.
“You can say whatever you like, so far as I’m concerned,” he told her.
“You’re a woman, Alexis,” her father reminded her. “You can’t be expected to do a man’s work.”
“And who says that only men can train horses? I think I’ve done all right so far. I’d like to have a chance at the three-yearolds. If Jamie thinks I can handle it, that’s good enough for me.”
“Have you been coaxing him into asking about this?” her father asked roughly.
“I’m not underhanded,” she told him, her anger coming to the forefront. “If I want something, I can approach you without Jamie’s permission. So to answer your question, no, I’ve not been coaxing him into anything.”
She looked at the man across the table, whose handsome features were partially buried in his hand, as if he hid a smile from her view.
Hank blustered a bit. “The first time you get tossed off a horse, you’re done, Alex,” he said. “I won’t have you killed just to prove a point.”
She aimed a questioning look at him. “And what point is that?”
“You know what I’m saying. Jamie and I agree that you have a natural ability, you’re a born trainer. You have a gift not given to many people in this world, a natural affinity for horses. But you can’t win them all. There’s bound to be a horse that won’t respond to you, and that one could kill you. You don’t have the physical strength to handle a determined stud.”
“At least give me a chance, Dad. I won’t do anything Jamie thinks isn’t safe. Will that make you feel better?”
“So long as you don’t try to persuade him otherwise,” Hank told her firmly.
“She won’t get around me,” James said, and Alexis ducked her head, hiding the look of triumph she felt washing over her countenance.
Assuming an affable smile, she faced her father again. “He’s tough, Dad. If he makes a statement, you can bet he’ll do as he says.”
Hank shot her a level look, his brow furrowed in a frown. “I know you too well, Alexis. You can be mighty persuasive when you want to.”
James looked her way, an imperceptible twist of his head warning her to desist before she said too much, and then spoke forthrightly in Hank’s direction. “She won’t put me in a bind, sir. I know her tricks.”
Alex fought the rush of heat that appeared at his words. “I haven’t any bag of tricks, Jamie. I play fair. I’d think you’d know that by now.”
“You’re a woman,” he said, as if that were the final word on the subject. And to add emphasis to his statement, he rose from the table and picked up his cup, swallowing the last of his coffee. “I’ll go by whatever you decide, Hank. Let me know.”
“Don’t go yet,” Hank said quickly. “I’m willing to give it a chance. Just keep an eye out.”
“I won’t expect too much from her,” James told him, and then motioned at Alex. “Let’s go, ma’am. We’ve got work to do.”
With mixed emotions, Alexis followed him out the door, waving at her father as she crossed the threshold, forming her lips into a quick “thank you” in his direction. Stepping double-time, she caught up with James and strode beside him. This man was very good at irritating her, his lifted eyebrow speaking volumes. And then his single word verified her thoughts.
“Satisfied?” he asked, looking down at her.
“Not quite, but almost,” she said, lifting her chin in a gesture of defiance. “Once I get on top of one of those beauties, I’ll be happy.”
“Don’t push it,” James said gruffly.
“I won’t. Just know that you’re going to have the best trained bunch of horses in the county. I’ll ride them all before I’m done.”
“Pride goeth—”
“I know the rest of it,” she said sharply. “And it isn’t pride that drives me. I know what I can do, and so do you, or you wouldn’t have pushed my father for this.”
James grinned at her, a sudden switch of mood that threw her off balance. “All right, sweetheart. Strut your stuff. We’ll start with the pinto mare. She’s not as big as some of the others.”
It was a long day. They broke for dinner at noon and then went back to the corral, where several of the hands happened to meander past, their eyes watchful as Alexis grew familiar with each horse she handled.
“Who’s been in charge of these?” James asked. “Who worked with them before I got here?”
“Slim, mostly,” Alexis told him. “He’s about the best on the place.”
James shook his head, a silent rebuttal of her words. “No, sweetheart. That’s where you’re wrong. You’re the best on the place.”
Her heart soared with the words of praise. So easily he could brush aside her barriers and set her heart beating double-time. Between his Irish blue eyes and the shock of black hair that begged for her touch, he was a man she was finding it hard to resist. In fact, she wondered some days and nights why she bothered. She was past the age of girlhood, she was a mature woman, and if she chose to know James Webster on a deeper level, it was no one’s business but her own. But not for the world would she let him know how readily he affected her.
He paused beside her and touched her elbow, his gaze seeming to look past the facade of nonchalance she offered. “I’m going to turn you into the top trainer in the county,” he told her. “And it won’t take much on my part to do it. You’re already well on your way, Alex.”
“Got a charley-horse?” James asked. Breakfast was a thing of the past, and he’d waited impatiently for Alexis to join him. Now he watched her walk toward him across the yard, and when she neared, he shot her a quick grin. “I’ll bet it kept you up last night, didn’t it?”
“Does it show?” Alexis walked as if she had a decided cramp in her calf, and he could almost envision himself scooping her up from the ground if it should give way beneath her.
“You betcha it shows,” he said with a chuckle. “I noticed when you came down for breakfast that you were favoring it. Kinda goes with the territory, sweetheart. Come on in the barn and I’ll massage it for you.”
She lifted a brow and hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, boss.”
“Strictly a professional gesture,” he told her, motioning to the door of the tack room. She entered, James behind her, and when she sat on a chair, he squatted in front of her. His hands worked her boot off and then slid up her calf, his fingers seeking out the muscle that had tightened even more when she sat down.
“While you keep walking on it, it’ll behave. But sit down and it tightens up and pulls from your heel. Nasty business.” His fingers were digging deeply into the clenched muscle, working out the knot, even as he kept an eye on her face.
She winced, jerked once as he touched on the core of the spasm and he muttered a quick word of apology. Unless he missed his guess, she was struggling against tears, and the thought of her pain made him angry.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “You don’t have to work so hard at this, you know.”
“I don’t work any harder than you do. I don’t expect to be pampered. I’m here to do a job. And if I can’t do it well, you’ll have Slim all over you like greased lightning. He’s got a short nose as it is, what with my doing the job he’s thought of as his for a long time.”
“I know all that,” he said, sighing in exasperation as he felt the muscle softening a bit. His hands fit around her calf and he applied pressure where he knew it hurt the worst. He’d had his share in the past years. Charley-horses were part of the job. Especially when beginning a new phase of training or when a man was new to the job. In this case, a woman was involved, and James felt responsible for her pain.
“Forget about Slim. If you can’t do the job well, he can fill in. But for now, you’re doing just fine and Slim has enough to keep him busy.” He looked down at her leg and his mouth flattened over his teeth.
“If you were a man, I’d have you out of those britches so I could handle this better,” he told her. And then, almost as an afterthought, he tossed her a quick grin. “But, to tell the truth, I’m awfully glad you’re not a man, sweetheart.”
She bit her lip and was silent, her eyes shiny, perhaps with tears she hoarded to herself, he thought. And then she bent toward him and her mouth touched his forehead. “I’m glad I’m not a man, Jamie. Men are nice people for the most part, but in this case, I’d rather be what I am.”
“Tempting? A green-eyed witch? A hip-twitching female?” He offered her choices, and she shot him a smug look, blinking back the moisture she had not allowed to fall. Her mouth formed a smile and he thought triumph dwelled there, the exultation of a woman who has gained her man’s attention.
“You noticed? Especially the hip-twitching part?”
“How could I help it? You’ve got the sweetest little fanny I’ve ever spent any time watching, ma’am.”
She ducked her head, as if suddenly unsure of herself. “I think I should be embarrassed, Jamie. At least a bit put out with you, talking to me this way.”
“I’m only stating facts, Alex. There isn’t a man breathing who wouldn’t watch you if he had a chance. You’re as easy on the eyes as any female I’ve ever known.”
“Thank you, sir. At least I think that was a compliment.”
“Bend a little closer and I guarantee you’ll know it was,” he told her, reaching to encircle her waist with his hands, tugging her forward so that she lost her balance and fell against him. He caught her deftly, held her firmly and touched her mouth with his. As kisses went, it wasn’t the best he’d ever aimed at a woman, but the power of their lips meeting in such a fashion shot through him.
“Jamie, you’re supposed to be taking care of my leg, not kissing me,” she said quietly, her breath sweet against his lips.
“I’d rather kiss you,” he told her, rising and drawing her up from the chair. “Your leg feel better now?” he asked.
“Much,” she told him. “Let me get my boot back on, will you?”
“I’ll put it on for you. In just a minute.”
She watched him, her cheeks rosy, her eyes glowing as she waited. Her mouth was pink and lush, luring him with its softness, promising pleasure should he accept the silent offering before him.
“You’re a beauty, Miss Alexis. A man could get lost in your eyes, and lose his head over your lips. You feel like heaven in my arms,” he murmured, wondering at his own fluent compliments. And then he bent to touch her ear with the tip of his tongue, and used his greater strength to ease her against himself, fitting her securely there, even as he acknowledged the thrust of his male member seeking shelter in the notch of her thighs.
“I think this is getting out of hand,” she said, her palms firm against his chest. “I won’t be treated like a mare in a stall, Jamie.”
“And I won’t do that to you,” he answered. “When I make love to you, it won’t be in the tack room where anybody could come wandering by. I’ll find a private place where we can be alone, where no one will disturb us.”
“When you make love to me?” she asked tartly. “What makes you think it’s a foregone conclusion?”
“Isn’t it?” he asked, smiling at her, knowing his grin was arrogant. His mouth was twisted wryly and she was getting angrier by the second.
“I don’t think so.”
Her answer was what he had expected, and he wasn’t long disappointed.
“I have no intention of performing any intimacies with you, Mr. Webster. I can’t afford to give away what my husband will claim as his own on the day I marry.”
“I’d say that all depends on who your husband turns out to be,” he told her, his arms tightening around her, one hand lifting her chin, the better to position her for his kiss. No matter that she silently protested, turning her head away, pushing at him with futile strength.
He was by far the more powerful, his need was great and his aim was true. His mouth took hers with sure, certain touches, his lips forming to hers, the movement of his tongue urging her to open to him. If he was arrogant, so be it, he thought, sensing her ambivalence as she initially fought his arms and finally surrendered to his strength.
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