Never Love a Cowboy (4 page)

He glanced over his shoulder and nearly cut her with his glare. “It’s a bit difficult to speak when someone else is constantly chattering. I’m surprised the man’s jaws stay hinged.”

“You’re upset ’cuz I invited him to join us.”

“I thought we had agreed to keep our cadre small until we’d gathered more cattle.”

Sighing deeply, she wrapped her arms around her knees. “I know, but he seemed lonely.”

Harry spun around, the water swirling out. “Lonely? Are we now to become a haven for lonesome souls as well as lost cattle?”

“No, but he knows a lot about cattle—”

“Which would be fine if he told us exactly what he knew
when
we needed to know it!”

Jessye bit back her laughter, knowing she’d only rile him further if she released it. But Lord, he had looked funny covered in mud—especially since he took pride in looking like he could sit in a widow’s drawing room with only a moment’s warning. “I know he was sorta unkind not to warn you about slipping in the mud, but some men enjoy pulling harmless pranks. He wants me to send you snipe hunting.”

“What in God’s name is a snipe?”

“That’s the point. There’s no such thing, but you send a greenhorn out into the night with a flour sack
and tell him he’s gotta find one…and well, it’s funny ’cuz you know he never will—”

“You believe this activity to be humorous?”

“Some folks do.”

“Do you?”

Avoiding the question, she cracked her knuckles, wondering if she’d have knotty fingers when she was old like her father constantly warned her.

“Do you?” he prodded. “Do you think it’s funny to embarrass someone?”

“No. I just understand that some men never grow up, and I try not to hold it against them.”

He waved his hand in the air. “Be off with you. I need to get out of the river.”

“Afraid I’ll see your shortcomin’s?”

With a distinct purpose to his stride and an unmistakable challenge in his eyes, he waded through the water toward her. She jumped to her feet and headed into the bushes. She ought not to tease him. Men were sensitive about certain aspects of their bodies…but she couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Harry looked like in the altogether. She had a feeling he’d make accepting the challenge worth it.

Harrison walked into the camp, his mood unimproved and threatening to worsen. Magpie was still talking, and Kit, by God, was taking notes. Everyone, it seemed, was intent on betraying him.

Kit looked up. “Fifteen cattle today. Not a bad beginning.”

“Not a good one either if you want two thousand head come spring.”

Kit glanced at Jessye and rolled his eyes.

“What was that?” Harrison demanded.

Kit looked back at him, his gaze a reflection of innocence. “What?”

“That signal between you two.” Harrison pointed his finger first at Jessye, then at Kit.

“Miss Jessye was just sayin’ that you was actin’ like you was raised on sour milk. Reckon Kit here was agreein’,” Magpie offered.

“Sour milk?” Harrison inquired, taking a step toward Magpie.

Jessye lunged between them, smiling guiltily before spinning around and placing her hands on Magpie’s shoulders. “I reckon you can tell these Englishmen are a little green when it comes to herding cattle.”

“Yes, ma’am, I surely knew that for a fact this afternoon, what with him thinkin’ to wrap that rope ’round them horns—”

“I know,” Jessye agreed quickly, cutting him off. “Which is the reason I was wondering if you’d be able to keep watch over the herd the entire night.”

Magpie’s eyes blinked rapidly, and Harrison thought with any luck a fly might pop into the man’s open mouth. Jessye had apparently found a way to silence him.

“Usually a watch is only four hours—”

“Yes, I know, but I thought you could stay with the herd all night, and we’d make a place in the wagon for you to sleep during the day.”

Magpie shook his head. “You’re thinkin’ these fellas ain’t gonna know how to stop the cattle from wanderin’ off or keep ’em from stampeding.”

“Exactly.”

“Yep, I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful. I’ll bring some coffee out to you later.”

Magpie gave her that idiotic grin. “I’ll be lookin’ forward to it.”

He sauntered into the darkness. Jessye spun around, her triumphant smile withering as she met Harrison’s hardened glare.

“Were you implying that I have a sour disposition?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes, that’s what the phrasing means.”

“You sent him to watch the cattle all night so we wouldn’t have to endure his constant jabbering.”

She nodded. “Just for tonight. Until you learn to appreciate him.”

Harrison scoffed. “Appreciate him—”

“He’s a fountain of information, Harry,” Kit interrupted quietly. “This herding cattle is much more involved than I was led to believe. Besides, he swears he can guide thirty cows single-handedly, which means while we continue to gather more, he can take them to Gray’s land.”

“You don’t think he’ll take the cattle for himself?” Harrison asked.

Kit shook his head thoughtfully. “No.”

“I despise your blasted instincts.”

“They have nothing to do with my faith in the man.”

“Upon what, then, do you base your confidence in his trustworthiness?”

“I listened while he told me about a battle he fought in 1863 at a place called Gettysburg.”

Harrison shrugged. “Most of the Texans we’ve met
fought battles during the war. What makes this one so special?”

“It was a bloodbath. Three days ago that lad who irritates you with his constant talking just turned twenty. Think about what we were doing when we were seventeen.”

“Harry?” Grabbing her pallet, Jessye eased a little closer to the man lying on his side, his back to her. “Harry, I know you’re not asleep. You’re not snoring.”

“I do not snore.”

“Yes, you do. Just a slight purring—”

“Jessye, I am not in the mood for conversation,” he tossed over his shoulder.

She disliked the wall he was building between them since Magpie’s appearance. It was one thing for her to keep a wall between them. Hers wasn’t as thick or as strong. She had a feeling Harry could build a fortress that she’d never be able to breach. “Harry, what
were
you doin’ when you were seventeen?”

He rolled over and met her gaze. “What difference does it make?”

She raised up on an elbow. “I can’t figure you out. From the minute I met you, I knew you despised being here—but here you are, being someplace you don’t want to be, doing something you don’t want to do. Why don’t you just go back home?”

He set a deck of cards between them. “Cut the deck. If you cut to a higher card than I do, I’ll tell you.”

“You’ll cheat.”

He waved his hand over the cards. “How can I
cheat if I’m not holding them in my hand? I can’t see through the stack.”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, reached out, and grabbed half the cards. She turned them to reveal the eight of spades. Harry simply turned over the top card. A nine of hearts.

“Sorry, Jessye. Guess I’ll hold onto my reasons a while longer,” he murmured as he took the cards from her, put his deck together, slipped it into his pocket, and shifted into position, presenting her with his back.

Damn, obstinate, stubborn man. Leaning toward him, she whispered harshly, “I hate your beard.”

He jerked around so fast, came so close, that his hot breath fanned her cheek. She saw the rage burning within the depths of his eyes as he dug his fingers into her upper arm. His breathing grew ragged, uneven.

“Hate!” he spat through clenched teeth. “I should teach you a lesson in hate.”

Dear God. She realized clear down to the depth of her soul that he could indeed teach her more about hate than she’d ever known existed. Cold fear rippled along her spine. What had she been thinking to travel with men she barely knew? She’d never seen anger this raw, this intense. She wanted to lash out at him, but some inner instinct warned her that she was safe as long as she held her tongue.

“Harry, you’re hurting her,” Kit said quietly, laying his hand over Harry’s. “She meant no harm.”

Harry shifted his gaze from her face to her arm. Slowly, mercifully, he unfurled his fingers. She saw the taut lines of his jaw, watched his throat muscles work, and was both surprised and relieved when he ground out, “There’s no reason that lad should have
to stay awake all night. I’ll take a turn watching the herd.”

He shot to his feet and stalked from the camp. She’d never been more grateful to see someone disappear into the darkness. She rubbed her arm, wincing as her palm passed over the tender flesh.

“Are you hurt?” Kit asked.

“No,” she lied, the ache surrounding her heart far outweighing the pain in her arm. In the few months she’d known Harry, she’d never seen his temper flare. She had no desire to ever witness that sight again. “Didn’t realize he was so fond of the beard.”

“It’ll be gone when next you see him.” Kit stood, walked to the fire, crouched before the low embers, and stirred them to life.

Jessye eased from her pallet, pulled her blanket around her, and huddled closer to the fire. The chill of the night had little to do with the cold swirling through her. “I never knew Harry had such a temper.”

Kit stared into the low flames, his pale blue eyes giving away none of his thoughts.

“His anger had nothing to do with the beard, did it?” she asked hesitantly.

“A man’s soul is his alone to bare to others.” Kit turned his head slightly and met her gaze. “Harry and I are friends because he holds my secrets well…and I hold his.”

“And I’m just your business partner.”

“You’re only my business partner.”

“And Harry is just one of the hired hands,” she said more sharply than she’d intended.

“That was your decision, not mine. If you had any wisdom, you would keep your distance. But I fear the
heart has a way of sending wisdom to hell.”

She glared at the flames as Kit unfolded his body and walked away. She heard him settle onto his pallet.

“You should at least pretend to be asleep before Magpie returns,” he said with a touch of teasing laced in his voice.

She nodded but remained hunched in front of the fire, fearing that if she moved away from the flames, she wouldn’t return to her pallet. Instead, she’d search for the man whom she now feared had the potential to hurt her far worse than Gerald Milton had.

She was drawn to Harry for reasons she couldn’t comprehend, reasons that were beginning to go beyond the handsome face and the beautiful physique. She wanted to know what had shaped him into a kaleidoscope of inconsistencies. She wanted to be his friend. But she wanted a friendship deeper than the one he shared with Kit. He and Kit were friends because they had shared secrets.

But to reveal her secrets might very well shatter her heart all over again.

A
s dawn eased over the horizon, Jessye
stared at her reflection in the water, which lay still against the bank of the river. She looked like a hoyden. If she had any sense, she’d chop off her unruly hair. It wasn’t as if she’d ever use it to entice a man into her arms. She didn’t understand men, didn’t want to—

“How badly did I bruise you?” a quiet voice asked behind her, startling her, nearly sending her leaping into the water.

She took a shaky breath. “Didn’t notice.”

She sensed more than saw Harry kneel beside her. Lord, she didn’t want to look at him.

“Let me see,” he ordered.

She jerked her head around. “Look, Harry—” His beard was gone, just as Kit had predicted. She dug her fingers into her palm to stop herself from touching the strong line of his jaw. She shrugged. “Bruises heal.”

“Only those you can see. I bruised more than your arm—”

“You’re making too much of this.”

“Your eyes are unable to shield your lies. I regret that I harmed you.”

“No need for regrets. Last night you said you didn’t want to talk. I should have left you alone. Next time I will. After all, we’re just business associates, not friends. We don’t have to bare our souls to each other.”

He gave her a long, thoughtful nod. She turned her attention back to her task, dipping her canteen into the water. “You’d best get ready to ride.”

“You asked what I was doing when I was seventeen. I was gambling, drinking to excess, and I took my first mistress.”

She tried to concentrate on the gurgling water making its way into her canteen, anything but the words he’d just spoken. She didn’t want to know anything about the women who had shared his bed.

“She was a beauty…”

Jessye snatched her canteen from the water and stood. “Harry, I don’t care.”

She took a step away before he curled his hand over her shoulder with a tenderness that stilled her motions, her breathing.

“She was as cold as ice. She wanted nothing more of me than what she could see. She set the standard by which I selected future mistresses.”

Jessye glanced over her shoulder at him. “You loved none of them?”

“I know nothing of love, but I know all there is to know of hate.”

She faced him squarely. “When I said I hated your beard—”

He touched his finger to her lips. “You meant no
harm. I know that.” He cradled her chin within his palm and trailed his thumb along her mouth. “I have never wanted to have a woman beneath me as much as I want you, and therein lies the source of my anger, for I can never give to you the one thing you require. Magpie, on the other hand, could probably give you love in abundance.”

She watched him disappear into the thick brush that ran along the stream. Her chest tightened, and tears stung her eyes. Yes, Magpie could probably give her love. Too bad Harry was the one her obstinate heart cared about.

“It’s colder than a witch’s caress,” Magpie pointed out, quite unnecessarily, in Harrison’s opinion. But he kept his thoughts to himself as they huddled around the campfire. He was growing accustomed to the lad’s constant chattering…and missing like the devil the easy conversations he’d once shared with Jessye.

Occasionally, he caught her watching him. While most women would blush and look away, she challenged him with a tantalizing gaze that hinted she sought the secrets to a puzzle. A puzzle he could help her solve. He found it increasingly difficult not to offer her the solution.

“The cold weather shouldn’t last but a few days,” Jessye said. “This far south, it comes and goes.”

“Unfortunately, our supplies aren’t lasting either,” Kit said. “I propose we head back to Fortune with the cattle we have on hand, spend the holiday with friends, and finish rounding up our herd in the new year.”

“You’re talking about spending over a month sit
ting on our asses when we could gather more cattle,” Harrison said.

“We’re nearly halfway to our goal—”

“Nearly is not close enough as far as I’m concerned.”

“We won’t start herding the cattle north until March. That’ll give us two more months—”

“I’m not sitting in Fortune while someone else is out here gathering the strays I might have found. Leave me enough supplies to get by. I’ll bring what I find to Fortune before Christmas.”

“You can’t herd the cattle alone—”

“He won’t be alone,” Jessye said quietly. “I’ll stay with him.”

Harrison jerked his head around. “You are not staying. I am fully capable of herding a few cattle—”

“I know that, but it’s my money that’s invested in this venture. Every cow we find adds to my profit. I’ve got no desire to spend a month serving whiskey in Pa’s saloon when I could gather cattle.”

With the darkness of midnight surrounding him, Harrison drew up the collar on his duster and huddled within his clothing as the rain pounded his back. He should have insisted that Jessye return to Fortune with Kit and Magpie. The warmer weather had yet to make its return. Instead, colder winds had been joined by torrential rains.

Riding beside him, Jessye sat hunched in her saddle. They needed a warm fire, but he’d had no luck finding a dry spot. If she complained, he couldn’t hear her over the howl of the wind.

But he seriously doubted that she was complaining.
They had traveled to the west and south for ten days and had yet to find a single cow. It seemed the beasts were more intelligent than either he or Jessye. Setting up camp was pointless when their saddles were warmer than the ground.

She had told him that towns were few and far between, but he had expected to find some sort of shelter. Even after spending several months in Texas, the absolute lack of civilization in this state astounded him. Perhaps they should look into building proper roads and decent taverns where a man could get a stiff drink and a soft, feminine body to warm him through the night.

Guilt pricked his conscience with that thought, and he cast a sideways glance at Jessye. Did she ever long for a hard, masculine body to warm her through the night?

She had asked no more personal questions of him since his fit of rage. They were business associates in the truest sense. If they talked at all, they discussed the cattle and the journey they would make come spring. In truth, he found the conversations utterly boring. The only consolation they afforded him was the opportunity to hear her raspy voice. He imagined that smoky inflection moaning with pleasure, urging him on with whispered words of passion. If only her price was one he could afford to pay.

She sat a little straighter and leaned forward slightly. She pointed her gloved hand. Her mouth moved, but the wind captured her words.

He sidled his horse closer to hers. “What?”

“A house!”

He squinted through the rain. In the distance, a faint
light beckoned. He nodded, not certain if she saw his actions. Not that it mattered. She was already guiding her horse toward the light. He hoped it was an inn, or at the very least a farm with a dry barn in which they could spend the night.

The rain and darkness distorted the light. A few times he lost sight of it, then it reappeared as though by magic. The trees had lost their leaves to winter, and the bare branches snagged his clothing as he followed Jessye. When they passed into the clearing that surrounded a house, he took the lead. He drew his horse to a halt, dismounted, and tethered the reins to the porch railing. Beside him, Jessye followed suit.

He slipped his hand beneath his duster and wrapped his frozen fingers around the cold handle of the revolver. He’d never used it other than to shoot cans. He prayed he wouldn’t be forced to use it tonight. Jessye stepped onto the porch. With a frustrated sigh, Harrison leapt over the steps and grabbed her shoulder. He felt her glare even though her hat brim shadowed her face.

“We don’t know what we’ll find. Let me stand in front,” he insisted.

He expected an argument, but she merely nodded, probably as anxious to escape from the cold as he was. He slipped in front of her and knocked. Lightning flashed in the distance, thunder rumbled, and a woman’s scream echoed on the other side of the door.

Shoving him aside, Jessye pounded on the wood. Harrison jerked her back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Someone needs help.”

“You haven’t a clue—”

The door flung open, and a man who looked as white as freshly fallen snow filled the doorway. Another scream ripped through the house, and the man blanched. “You know anything about birthin’?”

“Not a thing—” Harrison began.

“I do,” Jessye said as she sidled past the man and trudged inside.

The man followed her, leaving Harrison with no choice but to do the same. He closed the door behind him, welcoming the warmth of the fire burning within the hearth.

“You got some water heated?” Jessye asked as she removed her hat, gloves, and duster. She rolled up her sleeves.

“Yes, ma’am.” The man fetched it for her, and she washed her hands.

“How long has she been in labor?” Jessye asked.

“Goin’ on two days.” The man turned his attention to Harrison as though seeking understanding. “I thought it’d be like a mare givin’ birth to a foal. Ain’t nothing like it at all.”

“A woman isn’t a horse,” Jessye said, disgust woven through her voice. “Where is your wife?”

“Back here in the bedroom,” the man said, leading the way.

Jessye glanced over her shoulder at Harrison. “Wash your hands.”

His stomach tightened at the command, and dread ripped through him. “Why?”

“’Cuz I’m gonna need your help.”

Harrison had grown up listening to his mother’s constant badgering. She’d never missed an opportunity to
point out that her second son was useless. Until this moment, however, Harrison had not understood the full measure of the word.

Nor resented the fact that he was exactly that—useless.

He hadn’t a clue how to bring a child into the world.

But Jessye knew. The knowledge was evident in the defiant set of her chin and the calmness that settled within the green depths of her eyes. When she wiped the sweat from her cheek with a bloodied hand, a darkened brown smear remained. His gut clenched, and his only thought was,
Thank God, it isn’t her blood
.

“Help her sit up, Harry,” Jessye ordered.

He stared helplessly at the woman gripping the iron railings of the headboard. “I would think that is the last thing—”

“She’s gonna need to bear down, and it’ll be easier if she’s sitting up some. Just put your arms behind her shoulders and help her up.”

The determination in Jessye’s eyes had him wedging his arms between the woman’s back and the sweat-soaked mattress. He didn’t know how the woman’s trembling body could bear what was to come.

“Oh, Lordy,” the woman moaned. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Jessye assured her. “Just push down, push down as hard as you can.”

He felt the woman straining, heard her grunts. It was all he could do not to bellow along with her. The sweat streaming down his face stung his eyes as
though he was the one caught within the throes of labor.

“It’s almost here,” Jessye said softly. Her gaze snapped to the woman’s, and he was surprised to see tears shimmering within her eyes. “It’s got black hair.”

“Like her pa,” the woman said, panting.

“Give it another push,” Jessye urged.

He didn’t know where the woman found the strength, or how everything that had been happening so slowly occurred with such speed—but suddenly, a beautiful smile graced Jessye’s face as she held a bawling babe in her arms.

“It’s a girl,” Jessye announced as she placed the child within her mother’s arms.

“Ain’t she purty,” the woman whispered reverently, as though she’d forgotten the pain and trouble the child had just caused and would probably cause for the remainder of her life.

Harrison stepped back, not liking at all the way his gaze seemed to caress the child, as though he might forgive her as well. He swept his attention to Jessye, and the longing he saw reflected in her eyes caught him like a punch to the jaw. In the short time he’d known her, he’d never seen her yearn for anything, but he knew beyond a doubt that right now she wanted to take that child back into her arms.

She turned toward him, and the longing retreated like a shadow touched by the sun. “Why don’t you see about warming up some more water? I’ll finish in here, and then we’ll wash the baby.”

He gave a brusque nod and strode from the bed
room. He had no desire to learn exactly what “finishing” entailed.

Before, he’d had little time to notice the plain main room or the furniture held together by rope and wood wedging one piece into another.

The front door opened, and the man stepped inside, his eyes reflecting worry. “I tended to your horses. Put ’em in the barn.” His gaze went to the bedroom door.

“You have a daughter,” Harrison said quietly.

“A daughter,” the man repeated. “And Jo Beth?”

“She seems fine.”

The man stuck out his hand. “I’m obliged to you.”

Harrison slid his hand into the man’s strong grasp. “The ladies did all the work.”

“I’m obliged just the same. I’m Peter Haskell. Don’t recall that we was properly introduced. Don’t recall much but worryin’.” His gaze slid back to the bedroom door. “You reckon I could go see my wife and daughter now?”

“I don’t know why not.” The moment Peter Haskell disappeared into the bedroom, Harrison dropped into a chair. He no longer heard the baby wailing or the woman moaning, but he still envisioned the longing in Jessye’s eyes.

He heard the bedroom door open and the soft footfalls. He glanced over his shoulder. Contentment etched within the lines of her face, Jessye held the child curled against her breast.

“I’ve neglected my duties,” Harrison said as he stood. “I haven’t warmed the water—”

“That’s all right. We’re in no hurry.”

As he set a pot of water on the stove, from the
corner of his eye he watched Jessye sit in a rocker. She hummed as she rocked the child, holding her close to her bosom. He thought he would carry that image of peace with him until his dying day. Had his mother ever held him with such reverence? Such love?