Only Hers (24 page)

The smile slipped as she held out a thick black leather-bound book. “Reading.”

“Why aren’t you at the dance?”

Slim shoulders shrugged beneath an off-the-shoulder oversize top. The knit material dropped another inch, baring smooth brown skin. “I didn’t feel up to meeting a lot of new people. Octavia said she understood.”

Matt gritted his teeth. Irene had practically crawled into his lap and it hadn’t bothered him at all. Now he sees a couple of inches of Shannon’s bare shoulder and his jeans get tight. He was going to get Octavia for this. “I’ll bet.”

“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing some of your books,” Shannon said hesitantly. “You have quite a collection.”

“Most of the books belonged to Wade.” Continuing across the room, he took a seat behind his desk, opened a drawer and took out a large red-and-gold book. Pen in hand, he began writing. No woman was going to make him lose control.

If Melanie could see Matt now she’d know she didn’t have anything to worry about, Shannon thought. She barely kept from sighing aloud.

Deciding if he could act as if she didn’t exist, she could do the same thing, she sat back down with her book. However, she couldn’t concentrate with him in the room. Standing, she began to roam around the oak-paneled room filled with plaques, trophies, and pictures.

“All these trophies and things belong to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Wade said you were a champion calf roper a few years back.”

“I was.”

“I’ve never been to a rodeo.”

That remark earned her a long, level look.

“It’s a shame I won’t get to see one while I’m in Texas.”

“I can tell you where several are being held.”

Shannon gritted a smile. “I’m sure you could.”

Matt grunted and went back to his books.

Her fingers trailed over a pair of binoculars, a collection
of silver belt buckles, a lariat. She moved to a picture on the wall. Matt sat on a magnificent black stallion holding two toddlers, a boy and a girl. All three were grinning from ear to ear. “What beautiful children.”

He glanced up, saw the photograph and smiled. “Kane Jr. and Chandler. My nephew and niece.”

Her heart knocked against her chest at the beautiful smile on Matt’s face. “You sound as proud as their parents must be.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he said, a wistful note in his voice.

She moved to the next picture on the wall. Matt stood beside a man as tall and broad-shouldered as he. Both stared directly into the camera as if they barely tolerated the imposition. Both were strikingly handsome. “Who is he?”

“Daniel Falcon.”

“Is he a rodeo performer?”

“Hardly. He owns several firms across the country. You probably heard of Falcon Industries. His logo is a falcon, legs outstretched, talons poised to capture its prey.”

“Not a very nice picture.”

“That’s exactly what Daniel intended. If he comes after you, he’s coming for blood.”

“I’m glad I won’t be meeting him.”

“Then you better leave before next Monday.”

“What?” She whirled to face Matt and noted the strangely pleased expression on his face. Probably the happy thought of her leaving.

Matt reared back in his chair. “Daniel and a film crew he’s hired are coming to the ranch to get footage of the African-American cowboy of today. Too much of our heritage has been lost and Daniel intends to set some records straight.”

“For instance?”

“Black men and women contributed to the settling of the West as much as anybody. Nearly one-third of all the
cowboys in the West were black. The word cowboys comes from ranchers telling the black man to go into the brush and get the cow, boy.’ Many black cowboys were hired to do the hardest work, busting broncs. The typical trail crew of eight usually included a couple of black cowboys. Many came West after emancipation, hoping they would be judged by their skills and not by their skin color.”

“It must have been extremely difficult for them.”

“It was, and most people don’t even know the true history of the black men and women in the West. Their trials and tribulations might be in the history books, but not their triumphs.”

Shannon glanced back at the picture. “It seems I was wrong about Mr. Falcon. I’m looking forward to meeting him after all.”

“When you do, don’t forget his logo.”

“Is that a warning?”

Matt went back to his book. “Take it any way you want.”

“I will.” Going to the built-in bookcase, she replaced the book in her hand. “Good night.”

“Shannon.”

“Yes?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“When do you think the cabin will be ready?”

She looked stricken. “Soon.” The door closed softly behind her.

Matt’s hands clenched atop his desk. His desire for Shannon was testing his control with every breath he took. Finding her on the couch reminded him too much of the first time he saw her in the meadow, looking both beautiful and innocent.

All the ranch hands certainly liked her. The men watched their language around her and were as polite as choir boys. The bunkhouse no longer looked like a tornado just blew through, and all of the hands had taken to cleaning up and wearing cologne.

She certainly had made an impression on everyone,
including him. He didn’t understand why. He steered clear of women he couldn’t walk away from. Becoming involved with one under his roof was crazy. He had his share of lady friends and past lovers, but to date no woman had ever managed to be both. He and Shannon weren’t friends, but neither could they be lovers.

Picking up his pen, he went back to the account books. Maybe if he kept telling himself that enough, he might actually begin to believe it.

“You look stunning in that navy suit. And how about that white blouse. I love the draped collar!” Octavia said.

Shannon’s brown eyes sparkled. “Thank you, and you look good, too. I love that hat.”

The housekeeper beamed with pleasure as she turned her head from side to side for Shannon to get a better look at the pale-pink wide-brimmed straw hat with two large, deep pink roses in full bloom on the crown. “Besides my romance books, hats are my weakness.”

“I hope it’s all right that I’m not wearing a hat to church.”

“Sure it is. Lots of the young folk these days go bareheaded,” Octavia said as she picked up her gloves, purse, and Bible. “Matt, better hurry or we’ll be late.”

The smile slid from Shannon’s face. “He’s going with us?”

“Of course. My grandson has my car again.”

Breakfast had been difficult enough, she didn’t want to have to sit by a silent Matt for the next couple of hours. “Octavia, why don’t we go in my car?”

“Waste of gas to take both cars. Here’s Matt now. We better hurry or we’ll be late for prayer service.” Without waiting for an answer, Octavia went out the back door of the kitchen.

Sensing Matt’s eyes on her, Shannon followed. Outside, Octavia waited by the truck with the passenger door open. “I’ll sit by the door,” Shannon said.

“I have to ride by the window or I’ll get sick,” the housekeeper told her.

Shannon’s steps faltered. This definitely wasn’t a good idea.

“Will you two stop dragging your feet?” Octavia ordered.

All of a sudden Shannon realized Matt was as reluctant as she. He didn’t want to be near her, either. She had more pride than to let him know how much that hurt. Head high, she continued to the truck. Her courage faltered as she put one foot on the running board and realized how high her skirt would rise and how difficult it would be for her to get inside gracefully.

She turned back to suggest they take her car and looked straight into Matt’s piercing black eyes. The fluttering feeling returned to her stomach. Dressed in an almond-colored suit that fit his powerful body flawlessly, he was magnificent. And totally out of reach. She didn’t want them to be enemies anymore.

“Matt?”

His sensual mouth compressed into a thin line beneath his mustache. Strong hands circled her waist and lifted her into the truck. As soon as her bottom touched the seat, he stepped back.

“Move over, child.”

Afraid to look at Matt again, Shannon did as requested. Octavia settled in beside her. Matt closed the door and went around and got inside.

Matt’s muscled warmth touched her from shoulder to knee. She swallowed and tried to pull her skirt down from midthigh. It wouldn’t budge. Placing her small box purse in her lap over her sheer navy hose didn’t help hide her exposed flesh.

Matt leaned forward to start the engine and brushed the outside of her breast. Shannon froze from trying to inch down her skirt. Her heart rate doubled. Swallowing again, she stared straight ahead.

Something soft touched her hands. A large lilac handkerchief bordered with lace covered her lap.

“I have four teenage granddaughters,” Octavia said and grinned.

Shannon smiled and some of the tension drained away. Now, if Octavia had a two-inch steel divider that Shannon could place between herself and Matt, she might stay sane.

Pastor Billows never had a chance. He paced in front of the pulpit, shouted in his fine bass voice, called sinners to repent, Christians to rejoice. He had never been in finer form. He rose to the occasion, but it wasn’t enough.

He was no competition against Shannon.

Matt had never been so annoyed in his life. You’d think the citizens of Jackson Falls had never seen a woman. So much rubbernecking was going on, it was a wonder some of the participants didn’t get whiplash.

More children had to be taken outside by a parent than in the past year. The second a baby whimpered, out it went. Each time with a different person.

Not even Leola Price and her glare could quiet the murmurs. Leola liked the audience to pay attention. They usually did. None wanted to make the unofficial matriarch of Jackson Falls upset with them. Today she might as well have been calling hogs. In an effort to gain control, she decided to direct her attention to the person who was causing the problem. Shannon.

Shannon smiled encouragingly at the singer and nodded as if every word went straight to her soul. Soon Leola stopped glaring and sang her heart out. Leola finished on a note that shook the wooden beams.

Nobody seemed to notice but Shannon, the pastor and Octavia, who certainly hadn’t helped by forcing Matt and Shannon to sit together. He hoped he didn’t sink to such low levels when he got older. He and Shannon could sit hip to hip, flesh to flesh until hell froze over and . . .

“Let us pray.”

Matt bowed his head, his eyes going instinctively to
the lilac handkerchief. Since hell hadn’t frozen over as far as he knew, he asked for God’s forgiveness and turned his head slightly and saw three other men looking exactly where he wasn’t supposed to be looking.

He plopped his hat in her lap. Shannon glanced at him from beneath her lashes. He flexed his leg.

Leaning over, she whispered to Matt, “Would you like to go outside and stretch your legs?”

There was nothing he’d like better, but he was sure if they left, the entire congregation would follow them outside. “We’ll stay.”

She looked so disappointed, he smiled. She blinked, then smiled back.

“Brother Taggart, please introduce your guest.”

They jumped and their heads jerked up and around. Every adult and some of the children watched them with undisguised interest. Matt wanted to howl. He didn’t need to see Octavia’s pleased expression to know he and Shannon had been caught grinning at each other like two idiots.

And how in the hel—
heaven
was he supposed to introduce her? People knew Wade helped people, but they also knew how he loved the ranch. Talk was going to run through the community like a brush fire. He didn’t want that for either of them.

While he was trying to think of something, Shannon stood. “If you don’t mind, Pastor Billows, since I was more a friend of Wade’s than Matt’s I’d like to introduce myself.”

You could hear a pin drop.

Shannon had often heard that expression and, until this moment, had laughed at the fallacy. She wasn’t laughing now. She didn’t have to see Matt’s face to know he probably wanted to pull her down in her seat. She wasn’t so sure about this herself.

Octavia gave her an encouraging smile. Shannon’s hand clenched the stiff brim of Matt’s hat. He’d never stop shouting if she ruined his Sunday Stetson.

Her fingers relaxed and she met the expectant gaze of the pastor. “My name is Shannon Johnson and I was fortunate enough to be assigned as Wade Taggart’s nurse while he recovered in St. Louis. He was a fine, caring man. I wanted to come and see the place Wade loved.”

She glanced around the congregation. “I’ve met so many wonderful people since I’ve been here and now being in church today, I see why Wade loved Jackson Falls. Thank you.”

The church exploded in applause as she sat down. The person on her right stuck out her hand, and so did the next person.

“Please stand for the benediction.”

Shannon came to her feet still clutching Matt’s hat, her purse strap slung over her shoulder. As soon as Pastor
Billows said, “Amen” she was surrounded by parishioners.

“Welcome to Jackson Falls.”

“Wade and I go way back.”

“Nice having you at church.”

“Hope you enjoy your stay.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Matt had drawn his own crowd. Three attractive women and two matronly ladies hemmed him in. She couldn’t make out what the females were saying, but she had no difficulty hearing Matt repeatedly tell them how tied up he was with the ranch.

“Shannon can tell you how busy I am; she’s even riding fence.”

Everyone stopped talking. Once again she became the center of attention. She had told Matt she wasn’t going to help him discourage women, but she could see his problem since Octavia said he didn’t date the local women. Those five weren’t taking no for an answer. If he wanted to be painted in a bad light, who was she to say no.

“One morning he was so anxious to get started, I didn’t have time to eat breakfast or get my work gloves.” Every eye whipped to Matt. Shannon smiled into his scowling face. “But he did put me on light duty after my thumb was a bigger target than the staple.”