Branded (12 page)

For a change, Slade wasn't wearing his black Stetson. The glow of the flames seemed to bounce off the golden highlights in his collar-length hair. The shadows of the warm fire outlined his strong jaw. Although she wasn't cold, she hugged herself, trying to keep her emotions in check. She had to keep herself detached from this man or spend the rest of her life in misery.

When she realized he hadn't even noticed her, she suddenly felt ridiculous. In fact, none of the men seemed to pay any attention to her. She felt invisible and completely out of place.

As she glanced back at the house, thinking she should go back, she felt something nudge her foot. Two big boots were gently pressing against her shoe. Her eyes followed the length of his long muscular legs, and now he was looking at her. The look in his eyes was hotter than the flames. His stare flustered her, and she looked away quickly. However, she left her feet exactly where they were. Nestled against his. So much for her resolve to stay detached.

Dix poked at the fire with a stick. "Blue, the whole idea's madder than a rabid coon. Them wild cattle are some of the meanest animals out there. They're harder to rope than a streak of lightning. And even harder to bring in. Besides that, you ever tasted one of them stringy mavericks? They make jerky taste moist."

"Actually, Blue's got an idea, there," Slade said. He pulled his legs in and sat forward, resting his arms on his thighs.

Lacey nearly felt the need to comfort herself. She was bereft at the loss of his feet touching hers.

"Hell with the hide off! You aren't really thinking of going on a round-up?" Dix asked as he loaded another shot into his coffee.

"Not unless you can come up with another way to get free cattle, Dix."

"Count me in," Tait said with his usual youthful enthusiasm. "I've been looking forward to my first round-up since I could throw a saddle on a horse."

Slade reached over and fondly ruffled his brother's hair.

"Dang, Slade," Tait groused.

"I'd like to go," Lacey said in a voice so low, she was sure no one could hear her.

But Slade had. "Your riding's coming along. But you'll have to sit this one out."

"I could cook for the men," she said hating the pleading in her voice. "And who'll do the laundry?"

He gave her a sweet smile. "Sorry darling, but there ain't much call for a laundress out on a drive."

After that letdown, Lacey tuned the men out. She wondered if she was truly anxious to go on a long, hot trail ride, or if it was more likely that she was distraught at the thought of being separated from Slade.

The men started to meander back to their bunker. And soon, only Slade and Dix were left to finish planning.

"Don't look so forlorn, Duchess. You won't be missing much. Besides, it's too dangerous for a woman."

"I'll have you know, I've done many dangerous things in my life," she said, smoothing her skirt primly.

He accepted a freshly rolled cigarette from Dix and lit it. "’S that right?" He exhaled a stream of smoke. "And what would those dangerous adventures have been?"

"Well, one time, my friend Jas and I visited a deserted castle at night. We waded across the moat and hauled ourselves through the stone window."

"Then you and your little girlfriend tramped home soaking wet?"

"Actually, we disrobed and left our clothes on the bank. So I was quite dry when I tramped home. And Jas is not a girl. He's a boy named Jasper."

His pale eyes narrowed as he considered her.

Dix, who was taking a sip of his coffee, spluttered at her revelation. "This story is getting good."

Slade flicked his barely smoked cigarette into the fire and sat up. It occurred to her, with a bit of alarm, she now had his full attention.

"You swam naked with a man?" he asked. He seemed to be clenching his jaw as he waited for her reply.

"Not exactly a man. He was only sixteen at the time. This is beside the point."

"Sixteen?" Dix let out a barking laugh, "Around here, there are sixteen year old boys raising families of their own."

"Where were your parents while you were swimming naked in a moat?" Slade asked.

"My mother died when I was twelve. And my father didn't care if I was setting all of London on fire, as long as I didn't interfere with his work."

"Sorry to hear that, Duchess. Must have been tough."

His sympathetic words flustered her. Lacey looked down and dug the toe of her boot into the ashes around the firepit.

"I was perfectly safe, I can assure you," she said with feigned indifference. She leaned in a little closer to both men. "Jasper did not have an affinity for girls," she confided in rather hushed tones.

"No?" Slade asked. He could actually feel his jaw relax. As he had so often done of late, he lifted a curl from her shoulder and rubbed the ends with his thumb. "And how would you know that, Duchess?"

"He told me as much."

"Of course, he told you that. How else would he have gotten you naked?" Dix said.

Slade backhanded Dix across the arm.

"Think what you want," she said with a huff. She stood and walked briskly toward the house.

"C'mon, Lacey. Don't be angry. Dix didn't mean anything by it."

Without looking back, she brushed his explanation off with a flick of her hand.

"What did you go and do that for, Dix?"

"Just letting my big mouth do the talking for me," Dix said with a shrug.

"I'll say."

Dix stared at him for a minute and then shook his head. "You're breaking my heart, Slade."

"What the hell you ramblin' on about now?"

"Just that you ain't movin' fast enough. That pretty little gal will be gone in no time. You know Grady wouldn't scruple to stay away from what was yours."

"Grady isn't even an issue."

Dix gave him a knowing glance. "What is it with you, Slade? Still don't think you merit anything good in your life. It's been ten long years. Even if your father had known the consequences, he'd have done the same thing. Any decent man would risk his life to save his son."

"No matter how rotten a son is?" Slade asked.

"Do you think you were the first adolescent that did something foolish? It was probably the one and only time you ever disappointed your dad."

Dix finished off the rest of his drink before getting to his feet.

Slade stayed there alone, staring at the dying flames. There was sense in what Dix said. Maybe it was time to stop denying his wants. Time to get on with the business of living again.

# # #

Slade sat on the foot of his bed, the light of dawn still a whisper in the sky, trying to convince himself that this would all be worthwhile. The other men would already be down by the barn saddling their horses.

As usual, he had barely slept a wink. He was sure the grogginess would take its full toll on him once he was mounted. The rare nightmare still plagued him. But lately, his restless nights were due to Lacey. She probably didn't even realize the effect she was having on him. Alone in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he found himself reliving every smile, every laugh. Even her pouts made him crazy.

He padded barefoot to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of Dora's bitingly potent coffee. Dix often joked, it was strong enough to peel paint. Slade doubted whether Dora's coffee would even do the trick this morning.

This would prove a daunting task, rounding up wild steer. There was a chance that it would pay off with some valuable offspring in the coming spring.

Slade yanked on his boots and grabbed his gunbelt, taking care not to clank the metal buckle. He crept past her room, remembering how she'd all but begged him to come along. The hurt in her golden eyes had almost melted his resolve. The hunt for mavericks might keep him away for days. Days without her. This trip, he thought, would be hellish in so many ways.

Slade poured himself a second mug of Arbuckle's and emptied the tin of last nights biscuits, before heading down to the barn.

Blue was hitching horses to a covered wagon, sagging beneath its load of food and supplies.

He could hear the men down at the barn, an excited edge to their voices. They were actually happy to be going on a round-up. In a way, Slade could understand. Work around the ranch had been slow and monotonous with so few heads to care for. Slade had insisted they line drive the perimeter, regardless of how many cattle they were tracking. At least, they'd gotten a roof on the cook shed.

Tait's youthful voice could be heard above everyone else's. Slade smiled to himself at his brother's enthusiasm. He was amazed at how far Tait had come. His roping and riding skills rivaled some of the more seasoned cowhands.

It would take a lot to dampen Tait's spirits. But a few nights under the stars with only ill-tempered men for company, hard tack and bacon for every meal, and rocky dirt for a bed, might just do it.

Lacey gave her foot a little shake to eliminate the tingling sensation. She had been so tightly wedged between the huge sack of flour and the jug of vinegar, it took her a good hour to realize that she'd been sitting on her foot. It had gone completely numb. She only wished now that her bottom had gone to sleep along with her foot. The thin wheels, combined with the splintery wooden floor, made for a most uncomfortable ride as the wagon barreled over the rocky path.

She peeked toward the canvas opening. She could see Blue's broad back hunched over the reins. He had been humming tunelessly since they'd left the Lazy Heart. A lucky thing for Lacey, since occasionally, she was unable to suppress a groan of pain as they bounced over what must have been huge boulders. She tried, unsuccessfully, to rub away the pain in her backside. She had to be daft. Defying Slade like this. She did not want to contemplate what he would do when he discovered her stowed away on the food wagon?

The men had been mapping and planning the excursion for a week, and Lacey just couldn't pass up the opportunity for a little adventure. Not that she was bored with life on the ranch. But a girl could not deny herself a little danger and excitement, now and then. Besides, even though she loved Dora's company, she didn't think she could sleep at night knowing that Slade wasn't nearby. She wanted to kick herself for growing so dependent on him. It was getting more and more difficult to accept the fact that she would be leaving him soon.

Her stomach grumbled. She realized she was in arm's reach of a box of biscuits. Quietly, she broke the paper seal and snatched one. She'd not eaten since supper. She'd tiptoed out of the house in the middle of the night to make sure she could find a good hiding place in the wagon. By her calculations, she had now been folded into the tiny crevice for six hours and knew it would not be too long, before she would need to relieve herself.

The dry biscuit stuck to the roof of her mouth. She tossed the rest of it out the back, deciding that choking to death on a biscuit, while wedged between flour and vinegar, would not be the most glamorous way to die.

The motion of the wagon had nearly rocked her to sleep when Blue decided to take up a song about an empty cot in the bunkhouse tonight. Although Lacey had never heard the song before, she was quite certain it was not supposed to be sung in that exact key.

At first, it was mildly entertaining, but after twelve rounds of the cot song, interchanged on occasion, with a ballad about some poor soul named, Lil' Joe Wrangler, Lacey nearly had to bite her fist to keep from screaming. The others had had enough, as well.

She could hear Dix and Thorpe simultaneously yelling, "Shut your trap already!" from opposite sides of the trail. But Blue kept on howling out his songs. Probably figuring he had a lot of power, since he was the one hauling the food.

"Damn, Slade," Tait pleaded, "can't you do something to shut him up?"

"Actually, I was kind of hoping he'd scare up some wild cattle."

The sound of Slade's voice made Lacey completely forget where she was, and she laughed out loud at his comment. Blue suddenly froze in silence, and Lacey followed suit.

"It's about goddamn time, Blue," Dix said with irritation.

Bloody grand, Lacey thought, as she tried to scrunch herself into an even tinier ball. She'd hoped not to reveal herself for several more hours. By then, they would have been so far from the Lazy Heart that she hoped Slade would decide it wasn't worth his while returning her.

She had an inkling her discovery was close at hand. Blue had slowed the wagon considerably. She figured, he was probably peering over his shoulder surveying the back of the wagon, wondering whether or not he was hearing things.

The wagon lurched violently. Lacey could feel the two wheels on the opposite side, actually leave the ground, before they slammed back down. The heavy load came to a jarring halt. The flour sack was now lodged on her chest. As quietly as she could, Lacey heaved it off and drew in a reedy breath, inhaling a cloud of flour. She muffled a cough with her hands.

"What the hell are you doing, Blue?" Slade yelled from a distance. "You just about turned over the whole damn cart."

"Can't help it, Slade." Blue sounded a bit sheepish. "Thought I heard something in the wagon bed."

"That's your own ears ringing from all that caterwauling you've been doing," Dix snorted angrily.

"Sorry, Boss, I'll be more careful from now on," Blue said as he gave the reins a sharp snap.

Once the wagon began moving again, Lacey let her muscles relax a bit, but not nearly enough to relieve some of the painful cramps that were now seizing her back, arms, and legs.

"Strange, though."

"What's that, Blue?"

Lacey could hear Slade's voice clearly and sensed he was riding alongside the wagon now.

"Could've sworn I heard a woman's laughter."

"Did you say a woman's laughter?" Slade asked and Lacey squeezed herself farther into the crevice.

"Yeah, that's right. I must be crazier than I thought."

"Christ," Slade said with an audible sigh. "Hold up," he yelled to the others.

"Now what, Dalton? At this rate, it'll be winter 'fore we see our first steer," Dix grumbled.