Authors: Francis Ray
She sighed. “Have you always been this suspicious?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m creating extra work for her by being here. It’s the least I can do for her making me feel so welcome.”
“You’re still going to clean up the tackroom and polish the gear.”
Her eyes rolled. “I can’t believe you sometimes. Of course I’ll do the tackroom. This isn’t a trade-off, it’s an act of kindness.”
“Yeah.” Sarcasm tinged the word. “What act of kindness did you perform for Wade to get him to give you the meadow? Or was it another kind of trade-off?”
Her eyes widened in shock, then darkened in pain. She started to flee the room.
Unyielding hands grasped her forearm. He was surprised to feel her body tremble, surprised even more to feel a twinge of guilt for hurting her.
“Turn me loose,” she mumbled, her head downcast.
“Not until you understand I didn’t mean it that way.” He waited until his words sank in and she lifted her head.
“I’ve had some time to consider the situation and I admit I said some things without thinking them through. But the fact remains that you touched Wade enough for him to leave you the meadow,” Matt stated, bewilderment in his voice. “He had a soft spot for women in trouble, but his connection to the land was unshakable. I want to know what trouble you were in and why he thought the meadow would help?”
“I’m glad you changed your mind about Wade,” she said softly. “That bothered me more than your anger and mistrust.”
“What did you expect me to do?” he asked coldly. “Lay out the red carpet and throw a feast in your honor?”
She sighed, her head lowered again as her body seemed to shift closer to his. “I expected peace.”
“Why, Shannon? Why did you need the peace?”
Her bangs brushed against his blue shirtfront. “Things happened I had no control over and I had trouble accepting them. And before you ask, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Secrets and pain he understood. There were things in his past only Kane knew about. Some things, like his talking through his ex-wife’s deceit, he had never been able to discuss with anyone. His pride had been hurt too badly. Yet, there had been times he would have gladly given a piece of his soul to make the ache in his gut go away.
Shannon’s head turned, her cheek pressed more solidly against his chest. The warmth and softness cut through the barrier of his clothes and his cynicism with lethal effectiveness. His thumb absently stroked her arm beneath the cotton fabric.
With a trembling sigh, she leaned her upper body closer to his. Blunt-tipped fingers flexed with every intention of bringing her even closer. Before his actions became a reality he realized the risk. Abruptly, he pushed her away.
Feeling sorry for Shannon was as dangerous as being seduced by her body subtly shifting closer to his with every heavy thud of his heart.
“As long as you want to take what’s mine, you won’t get the peace you’re looking for here.”
Heavy lids blinked. Sooty lashes lifted over slightly dazed amber eyes. Her gaze shifted. “There are different kinds of peace, Matt, I’m just beginning to figure that out.” She turned away. “I need to fix breakfast and your coffee is getting cold.”
Matt crossed the room, dumped the coffee without tasting it, then poured himself another cup. “You’re hiding something and I’m going to find out what it is before you leave.”
“Why?”
He didn’t like his word turned on him. “I don’t like surprises.”
The doorbell rang. She started from the room.
“Leave it. We’re not finished talking.”
“It’s not even seven. It must be important if someone is calling this early.”
“It’ll wait. This won’t.”
The chime came again. “There is never any excuse for rudeness.”
This time he didn’t try to stop her. Crossing his legs at the ankle, Matt leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee.
Run all you want, Shannon,
he thought with conviction.
But sooner or later, I’m going to run you to the ground and find out all your secrets.
Taking a deep breath, Shannon raked an unsteady hand through her hair as she crossed the den. She had done it again, gone from boiling mad to hot and bothered in 0.9 seconds.
Try as she might to deny it, she could resist Matt no more than the increasing desire to get past his distrust and have him see her and not the woman he thought she was. And that was just the beginning of her problems. Being around him was only going to make it more difficult for her to ignore her feelings.
Arthur Ferguson had delivered the money and credit card Melanie mailed to her so she could leave if she wanted to. She didn’t want to. She wasn’t running a step farther from whatever life tossed her way. And that included Matt Taggart.
What a time for her slumbering hormones to go on overdrive. She knew that’s what it was. No woman in her right mind would fall in love with a suspicious, overbearing cowboy. A dependable, soft-spoken man like James Harper was more like it. With James fixed firmly in her mind as worthy of another look, she opened the front door.
The tall, rawboned man on the porch blinked in surprise on seeing her, then quickly jerked off his cream-colored Stetson to reveal a thinning patch of salt-and-pepper hair.
“Er, morning, miss. I’m Matt’s neighbor. Is he home?”
Shannon smiled to put the older man at ease. “He’s in the kitchen. Please come in.” Closing the door behind the visitor, she led him back to the kitchen. “Matt, there’s a gentleman here to see you.”
The rancher stepped from behind Shannon. “Good morning, Matt.”
The last person Matt expected was Adam Gordon. It was Wednesday. The Monday deadline had passed for them to agree on the sale of Sir Galahad. “Morning.”
Shannon glanced between the two, her curiosity increasing. The elderly man’s nervousness had increased, not decreased. Matt looked hard and uncompromising.
The rancher’s gaze flicked back to Shannon, then swung to Matt. His grip on the brim of his hat tightened.
“Could I get you a cup of coffee or some coffee cake?” Shannon asked. She, of all people, knew how unnerving Matt could be.
“No, ma’am.” He looked at Matt, then back at Shannon.
She offered a slight smile of encouragement.
Adam gulped.
Matt scowled. The speculative gleam in Adam’s face when he entered the kitchen had gradually become one of male appreciation. He wasn’t as interested in the relationship between Shannon and Matt as he was at looking at a beautiful woman.
“Something you wanted, Adam?”
The rancher jerked his attention back to Matt. “It . . . it’s about the talk we had the other day.”
“The deadline passed. I said all I had to say.”
Gordon shifted from one polished ostrich-skin boot to the other. “Can we go someplace and talk in private?”
“Of course, I’ll le—”
“You’ll cook breakfast,” Matt told her. “I don’t intend to waste any more time today than I have to.”
Head high, Shannon yanked open a cabinet door, then slammed it shut. Matt ignored her and the noise. “If
you’ve changed your mind, it doesn’t take privacy to tell me you’re going to sell me the bull.”
“Sir Galahad is worth a lot of money.”
“Fifteen thousand dollars is a lot of money.”
“Fifteen thousand dollars for a cow!” Shannon screeched, staring at both men as if they had lost their senses. Matt returned the look with one of censure, the older man with wry amusement. “Sorry,” she mumbled and turned away.
“Pardon me for saying so, ma’am, but you must not know much about prize bulls.”
“She doesn’t know much about ranching period. But she will before she leaves,” Matt promised.
“I’m not the only one who’ll learn a lesson before I go,” Shannon shot back, one hand on her slim hip, the other clutching a skillet handle.
Gordon’s eyes skirted another glance between the two. Curiosity triumphed over good manners. “You’re just visiting then, miss?”
Shannon gave up all pretense of cooking and extended her hand. “Yes. I’m Shannon Johnson.”
“Adam Gordon.” He pumped her hand up and down. “Welcome to Jackson Falls.”
“If you two are finished . . .”
Gordon hastily withdrew his hand. Shannon faced Matt with a syrupy smile. “Drink your coffee. It might improve your disposition.”
“Shannon,” Matt gritted out.
“I know. Breakfast.”
His jaw tight, Matt faced the rancher who looked stunned. Matt knew the women Adam usually saw around him went out of their way to please Matt. Shannon took pleasure in opposing him at every turn. “I’m waiting,” he growled.
The man jumped, then blurted, “I brought someone for you to see.”
Matt couldn’t believe such audacity or callousness.
His body became as rigid and cold as his voice, “Then you’ve wasted a trip and my time.”
“I deserve that.” The rancher looked at Shannon. “Miss Johnson, if Matt can spare you a moment from cooking breakfast, I’d like to show you the finest bull in the Southwest.”
“Sir Galahad is here?” Matt thundered.
Gordon finally stopped gripping his Stetson. “I thought he could say it better than I could.” He took a deep breath that strained the pearl snaps on his red-checkered shirt.
“At first I was angry with you and then I thought long and hard about things. It didn’t take long to figure out you were right.” Adam Gordon held out his hand. “You can’t buy love or friendship. No one should try.”
“I know.” Matt clasped Adam’s hand, but his steady black gaze was on Shannon. “But you’d be surprised at the people who haven’t figured that out yet.”
Matt’s words stayed with Shannon all day as she worked in the tack-room. The reason for his distrust was clear. Money. She hung up a bridle she had just finished polishing and reached for another one.
Sitting down, she picked up the soft cloth and began rubbing cream into the leather. Telling him she had a trust fund that would see her very comfortably through two lifetimes wouldn’t help. Maybe a certified letter from her father’s law firm might, but she shied away from that idea.
Sighing, she leaned back in the wooden chair. As crazy as it seemed, she didn’t want him to trust her because he knew she didn’t need the meadow or his money. She wanted his trust because he was powerless to withhold it. It hardly seemed fair that she reacted so strongly to him and he barely noticed her unless it was to interrogate her or give her a command.
Her lips pursed. After breakfast he had ordered her to follow him to the small room in the back of the barn and told her that he wanted everything polished by the end of
the day. It was almost two o’clock and she had barely made a dent in the numerous bridles, harnesses, and whatever else hung from the curved hooks scattered around the room.
Her stomach growled. There was no sense in skipping lunch. The gear would still be here. Maybe Matt wouldn’t come back until late and she’d be finished by then. Even as her thoughts formed, she hoped he’d return for dinner. She had gone into the house for a glass of water earlier and knew he hadn’t returned for lunch.
Whatever else she could say about Matt, there was no doubt he worked hard.
Laying the bridle aside, she rolled her head to loosen stiff muscles, then stretched her hands over her head. She ached in places she had forgotten she had. Lunch, and then back to the grindstone.
Crossing the yard, she saw a late model Camaro coupe pull up in the circular drive in front of the ranch house. A young woman got out of the car and started for the front door. With each hip-swinging step the wind lifted the flared hem of her floral sundress to reveal a pair of long legs.
Shannon sighed. She had always envied women who could wear those flirty little numbers or body-hugging spandex. She had always been too conscious of the wind catching her at the wrong moment and too conscious of her upper proportions. She had only recently worked up to short skirts.
Sir Galahad bellowed from the corral. The young woman’s sandaled foot paused over the first wooden step on the porch. Shoulder-length, blunt-cut black hair swung around in an arc. Her gaze stopped on Shannon and for several seconds stayed there. Sir Galahad bellowed again. The woman started toward Shannon.
“I’m Vivian Gordon,” she said, her voice a slow, seductive drawl that was a captivating mix of the deep South and the West. “Adam Gordon is my father.”
Shannon smiled at the pretty, cinnamon-hued woman
and introduced herself. “I met your father this morning. I guess you came by to say goodbye to Sir Galahad.”
“I came to see Matt.”
Shannon reassessed the unsmiling young woman. Obviously her father had mentioned Shannon and she was here to see what she thought might be the competition. “He’s been out plowing since this morning. I don’t expect him back until tonight.”
Glistening red lips tightened. “
You
don’t expect him back? What are you to him?”
If nothing else the woman was direct and Shannon had no intention of being caught between Matt and another woman. “Just what I look like. A hired hand.”
The woman’s calculating eyes traveled over Shannon who was in her work outfit of faded jeans, a sleeveless knit T, and an oversize shirt. “Is that Matt’s shirt?”
Shannon laughed in the suspicious woman’s face. She couldn’t help it. Anyone who was that rude didn’t deserve anything else.
Vivian bristled. “Daddy was wrong, there’s nothing special about you. Matt wouldn’t look at you twice when he can have me. I’m rich, prettier, and younger than you.”
And spoiled rotten.
Definitely not the type of woman Matt would choose. He wasn’t a man to pamper a woman.
Shannon felt sorry for Vivian. The girl looked to be about twenty. Matt was probably the first thing in her life she wanted and she hadn’t gotten. She wasn’t dealing very well with the real world.
A girl’s first love was often painful. Just because the person was older or entirely out of your reach or not an acceptable object of affection didn’t stop you from wanting and hoping. Shannon’s fixation had been on the captain of the high school football team who wanted her to be another notch on his jock strap. Her brothers had quickly wised her up.
“Do you have brothers?”