Lorraine Heath (35 page)

The line shack had been built in the midst of a grove of trees, nature’s thicket providing protection from the hot sun in summer and the cold northern winds in winter. It also allowed Rebecca to follow Jake without being spotted. It took all her inner strength to stay hidden, watching the drama unfold before her, waiting for the moment when her presence would gain them the most.

Jake prodded his horse slowly into the area before dismounting and tethering the stallion to a post in front of the shack. His eyes scanned the small area that had been cleared of trees and he was not at all pleased with the sight that met his eyes.

“You can come in closer,” Ethan said from his sprawled position on the ground, his back up against a tree. In his hand he held a rope, one end trailing behind him, the other end hanging up over a branch of a tree some distance away from him, wrapped securely under Jacob’s arms as he dangled over a large wooden openmouthed barrel.

“Stop right there.”

Jake did as he was ordered. He had worn his gun, and until Ethan told him otherwise, he had no intentions of removing it. He had no idea if he could outdraw Ethan if it came down to a show of guns, but he sure as hell was going to try. He gave Jacob a small smile, a smile that wasn’t returned. The boy wore a deep frown, his blue eyes narrowed in thought, and Jake knew he would never be able to comprehend all that was happening before him. He could see no bruises or evidence that the boy had been treated
harshly, and Jacob wasn’t bellowing, so Jake had to assume he had been fed.

“Thought you might be entertaining ideas of killing me,” Ethan said, and Jake looked back towards him, wondering how three men sired by the same man could have turned out so differently. “But if you do, I’ll let go of this rope.” He let two inches slip through his fingers and Jacob fell slightly, his eyes widening, before the slack of the rope tightened. The clatter of rattles echoed in the barrel.

Jake’s eyes flew from Ethan to the barrel and back to Ethan. “You bastard,” he said with more venom than the diamondback rattlesnakes that sat coiled, ready and waiting beneath Jacob.

“Now, you’re wrong there, Jake. You’re the bastard, not me. And as long as no one followed you, as long as I stay alive, as long as you do as I say, the boy stays in the air. Otherwise, he goes into the barrel. Do you understand?”

“He’s not even my son, Ethan.”

Ethan digested that piece of information as though it were a tender piece of sirloin, and then he began to laugh, a loud boisterous laugh. “So you weren’t man enough for her, huh?”

“She was pregnant when I married her. Do you really think a woman like Rebecca would marry me if she wasn’t desperate?”

“No. Never could figure out how you got her.” His lips spread in a wide smile. “I like knowing that bit of information. But it don’t change the boy’s position. Now, you got the deed?”

Jake removed it from his pocket and held it out.

“Bring it here.”

Ethan was now holding a gun in the same hand as the rope, brandishing both at Jake as he leaned over and handed Ethan the title to his land.

“Move on back,” Ethan said, waving the gun loosely in the air.

Cautiously, Jake moved back, easing his way closer to Jacob, stopping when he was even with the barrel. Ethan flicked the paper open and read its contents.

“Everything looks legal.” His eyes narrowed. “He’s not your son, but you’d give up your land to save him.” His eyes came to stare hard on Jake. “Why don’t I trust you?” He released the rope.

Jake cried out as he made a lunge for Jacob, catching the boy before he fell into the open mouth of the wooden barrel, Jake’s body slamming into the barrel and toppling it over. Jake froze with Jacob clinging desperately to his neck. He felt the first rattler strike and didn’t dare move, his breathing shallow, his entire body feeling as though it were only raw nerves. He was aware of the pounding of Jacob’s tiny heart against his chest, the pounding of his own heart within his chest. Somewhere in the distance he was vaguely aware of a man’s screams. A second rattler struck, and Jake felt the milky venom dripping down his leg. The first rattler had targeted his boot. The second had struck higher, catching his fangs on the top of Jake’s boot. The rattler’s body swished from side to side as it struggled to free itself. Slowly, Jake lifted his revolver out of his holster, and taking careful aim, shot the rattler in half. Studying the area surrounding him, he saw no signs of any remaining vipers. He shoved his gun back into his holster before reaching down to pull the lifeless head from its hold on his boot and tossing it aside. Then he righted the barrel so the flat bottom was facing the sky and he sat Jacob down on top of it. The boy’s eyes were wide, his mouth puckered, quivering, trapping inside the wailing cry he was too frightened to release. Jake put his arms back around the child.

“You’re a very brave boy. And I love you very much. You’ll be all right now. But I don’t want you to move off this barrel.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sarsaparilla stick. Jacob’s lips stopped quivering, and his eyes widened in delight as he took the offering.

Jake moved towards Ethan who was still lying prostrate on the ground. Ethan raised the gun with a shaking hand. “Just stay where you are,” he ordered.

Jake halted. “Let me help you.”

Ethan laughed. “I counted at least four strikes. Not much you can do.”

Jake took another step and Ethan pointed the gun towards the barrel. “You set the boy up so he makes an easy target.”

Jake stopped, dreading the idea of watching the man die from snake poisoning, but he wasn’t going to risk Jacob’s life. He took a step back. If he could manage it, he was going to retrieve Jacob and ride out without another word being spoken between the two men.

“Father loved you best,” a quiet voice said, and Jake’s eyes snapped to the man on the ground. He had lowered the gun until his hand was lying by his side.

Jake was going to comment on the absurdity of that statement, but he realized the man looking up at him with sadness believed the words he’d spoken.

“I saw ‘em, you know … Father and Aunt Emily. I was playing up in the hayloft when I heard ‘em. They were in a back stall. I pushed the hay aside and I looked down through the slats. He was telling her how much he loved her. She was crying, telling him it was wrong. But he wouldn’t listen. If only he’d listened,” Ethan said, the pain from the memory engulfing him. “He whispered your name with his dying breath. That’s what killed our mother … knowing how he truly felt about you. I never could forgive him for that … or you.”

Jake saw Ethan’s strength waning. Then with a swiftness Jake never would have expected, Ethan brought the gun up and fired. Ethan’s body jerked as a bullet slammed into his chest. The rattlesnake laying at Jake’s feet ceased its coiling as Ethan’s bullet struck it.

Jake rushed over to Ethan, dropping down to his knees, pressing his hands against Ethan’s chest, trying to staunch the flow of bright red blood that was gushing forth.

“Too late, little brother.”

Jake’s eyes flew from his blood-soaked hands to Ethan’s face as the life went out of his eyes. Somehow, in death, his eyes seemed warmer.

Rebecca dropped down to the ground, laying her hand over Jake’s.

“I thought he was going to shoot you,” she said, quietly.

Jake could only nod before reaching up to close his brother’s eyes, an unnatural lump in his throat preventing him from speaking. The last thing he had ever expected of Ethan Truscott was for the man to save his life.

Rebecca and Jake stood alone in a silent moment of reflection before the grave resting beside Zach’s. The wooden marker was simple, deeply carved letters depicting Ethan’s name, date of birth, and date of death. Whatever endearments he may have earned during his lifetime had perished with him. Rebecca wondered how Thomas Truscott would feel to know how his actions of so long ago had brought two of his son’s lives to an untimely end. For when all was said and done, Rebecca could find no one else to blame.

After a few moments, Jake turned away from the grave. “I need some time to myself,” he said quietly.

Rebecca had watched Jake mount his horse and gallop away, giving him some time alone before she followed. She’d known where to find him. She moved silently through the tall, dry grasses before dropping down beside him. Jake shook his head.

“Why’d Truscott ever come for me, Reb? Why didn’t he just leave me where I was? He didn’t want me.”

She brushed the hair off his brow.

“I don’t know, Jake. I don’t know.”

He dropped his head down, a shudder running through his body. He felt a need to cry, but he wasn’t sure who it was he wanted to cry for. He lifted his head, his gaze falling upon his land. As far as he could see, it was all his. And without Rebecca it was nothing.

“This thing that we’re doing,” he said quietly, “this waiting to see if things’ll work out … it’s not working for me.”

He turned his steady gaze her way, and Rebecca thought her heart would stop beating. After all that had happened during the past two days, she felt closer to him than she had ever felt in her entire life, and she had assumed he felt the same. She had allowed her feelings for him to give her a false sense of security. She should have realized that he
might not be feeling what she felt. She wanted to beg him to give her a while longer to prove her love to him, but she had no right to ask anything of him. She nodded. “Jacob and I will leave in the morning.”

The hurt in her eyes tore at his heart. He hadn’t meant to cause her pain. “No,” he said softly.

“Tonight then.”

Shaking his head, he gave her a small smile. He brushed away the loose strands of hair that the gentle breeze was blowing across her delicate features. “That’s not what I meant … or what I want.”

Confused, she studied him. And then he spoke, his voice a gentle caress.

“I got some land, a few head of cattle, and I’m planning on building a house at the top of the rise that overlooks the log house. The house’11 have turrets and bay windows, a porch going all the way around, and my bedroom will have French doors that lead out onto a balcony. I’d be real honored if you’d share it with me as my wife.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “The honor, Jake Burnett, will be all mine.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “I want you to understand what I’m asking, Reb. I want it for the rest of my life. I have to know it’s for the rest of my life. I’ve been holding my heart at bay since you came back, and I don’t want to do that. But if I set it free and you leave again, it’ll kill me. And that’s a hell of a burden to put on someone.”

“Long ago before you ever asked me to marry you, you were my friend. Then you became my husband, the father to my child, my lover. But it took me going to Montana to make me realize that you were my love. My only love. My true love.”

She reached into the pocket of her skirt, bringing out a gold band.

“I picked this up for you when Jacob and I started back. I had it engraved.”

She held it up for Jake’s perusal. Squinting, he read the tiny letters carved within the circle of the band: “To the one I love.”

Lovingly, his eyes fell on her.

“I was hoping you’d wear it,” she whispered. Taking his hand in her own, she slipped the ring onto the third finger of his left hand and then said softly, “I, Rebecca, take thee, Jake, to honor and cherish … and above all else to love as long as I live.”

One by one, she felt him give freedom to her buttons. Piece by piece she felt him removing her clothing, his own following hers. Gently, he lay her down among the tall grasses, her hands running up into his hair. She ached to pull him close, to run her hands over his body.

“I think I hurt you last night,” she said. “I don’t want to do that this evening,” she whispered.

Moving a stray strand of hair from her face, he gave her an endearing grin. “I don’t think you’ll ever hurt me again.”

She lovingly touched the raised corner of his mouth. “Lord, how I missed your smiles.” Her finger trailed up until it rested beside the corner of his eye. “And your beautiful eyes, their depth of feeling. And you,” she said as his mouth swooped down to capture hers.

Her heart released its hold on the image of love that it had clung to so tenaciously over the past year, embracing instead the love of a man that would last a lifetime. She gave Jake all of her heart, all of her soul as he slowly, passionately joined his body with hers. What had passed between them before this moment of true commitment could not compare with what was happening between them now. Rebecca held nothing in check, her emotions, her body, her love—physically and emotionally—were given freely and absolutely to the man whose arms encircled her. And Jake, knowing beyond a doubt that she loved him, gave more of himself to her than he had ever given to her, never before realizing that he had only given a portion of himself. Their hands, their mouths, their bodies paid tribute to each other, to their love until together they reached a resplendent fulfillment that melded their hearts and their souls.

Looking down on her, Jake saw the depth of his own love reflected in eyes of blue. “I love you,” he whispered.

And his words were returned in a soft, sweet voice. “I love you … so much … so very much.”

Texas, 1886

T
HE
BLUE
EYES
diligently scanned the far horizons with experience that came from countless years of looking across a vast expanse of land and judging its merits. Brown and white cattle dotted the landscape, many more than he had expected to see after he had received the reports. Two years of drought and a bitter cold winter had forced many established ranchers to give up the business, only a few of the hardier breed remaining to try again. He had feared he had waited too long to come, that he should have offered aid before now. It pained him to think of Rebecca hungry or cold or doing without.

The man tugged on the reins of his horse, heading in the direction he had been instructed by a gangling youth with red hair. The miniature horse carrying the miniature saddle trudged along beside him. He came up over the rise, not expecting to see a large house nearing completion on the next rise, turrets pointed towards the sky, large bay windows framing the front, porches stretching around the lower portion of the house and balconies the upper. He smiled for the first time in three years. Rebecca would insist on porches and balconies and so many windows he wondered why she even bothered with walls.