Texas Heat (7 page)

He released her and stormed back into the feed store. Savannah watched him go, her heart pounding furiously against her rib cage.
Emma's not the only person I have no intention of sharing.
Good Lord, had he really said that?

What a ridiculous, overbearing, macho thing to say. She wasn't his to share or not share with anybody, Savannah thought indignantly. Just who did he think he was?

She glanced over her shoulder toward the feed store, rubbing the tingling sensation that lingered on her wrist. It was going to be a long three weeks, she thought, dragging in a slow breath to steady her nerves.

A very long three weeks.

* * *

Emma's land was close to the base of mountains that Savannah had only seen in the distance from Jake's ranch. Jake pulled the pickup under a stand of cottonwood, then shut off the engine and came around to open the door for Savannah and Emma. Emma, delighted they were having what she considered a fun Sunday picnic, ran off to a nearby stream at the base of a ravine where yellow and white wildflowers sprinkled the banks. The sun, nearly overhead, promised to scorch the sparse land, but for the moment a cool breeze kept the heat to a minimum.

“It's beautiful,” Savannah murmured, watching her niece throw pebbles into the shallow water.

“Right here it is.” Jake pulled off his denim jacket and tossed it into the bed of the truck. “But most of this land is flat and rocky. I use it for grazing, but it's not good for much else.”

“So you'd lose grazing land if it were sold,” Savannah said bluntly.

His face hardened. “Don't try and read between the lines on everything, Savannah. You're getting downright paranoid.”

Maybe she was. And maybe she had reason to be. But for the moment, she decided to put her mistrust of Jake on hold. This was a lovely spot and Emma was having a good time. Savannah didn't want to spoil her niece's afternoon by arguing with Jake.

“All right,” she said. “Let's call a truce for the afternoon. I'll get the sandwiches and iced tea and you get the blanket.”

The tension between them eased for the moment. Jake spread a thick Indian blanket under the shade of a cottonwood while Savannah unloaded the basket she'd packed. A low rumble and cloud of dust in the distance caught Savannah's eye and she pointed to it. “What's that?”

Jake shaded his eyes and stared at the rising cloud. “Wild horses,” he explained. “They've been here since my granddad ran this place. We leave them be.”

She could see them now. There were probably twenty or so, various colors, and they seemed hell-bent to get somewhere. Her heart pounded harder as they drew closer. Without warning, they turned suddenly and headed in another direction. “They're beautiful,” she breathed.

Jake nodded, but he was watching her, Savannah realized, and she blushed. Emma came running up then, pointing excitedly at the retreating horses.

Savannah set out the sandwiches and they ate in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the breeze rustle the cottonwoods. A lizard darted out from behind a rock, and when it headed for the blanket, Jake tossed a pebble at it to deter it. Emma giggled, pointing at the reptile as it slithered away. Savannah shivered.

It amazed Savannah how well her niece seemed to fit in here. Atlanta was a different planet compared to Stone Creek. The land here stretched forever with very little green. There were no sidewalks to skate on, no other children to play with. Jake didn't even have a TV. And yet Emma was happier than Savannah had ever seen her. Savannah saw a bond forming between Emma and her new family, and it scared the hell out of her. Was it possible she might actually lose her niece?

No.
She'd never let that happen. They'd be leaving in a few weeks, going back to their own home. Emma would settle down and start school again in the fall. She'd be with her friends and forget about this other part of her life, except for Christmas cards and birthdays. She'd probably even forget that calf she was so crazy about.

The peace Savannah had felt only a moment before was gone now. Doubt and apprehension filled her and she turned away to fill her glass with tea.

When she turned back, Savannah noticed that Emma was watching Jake as she chewed thoughtfully on a peanut-butter sandwich. Jake took a big swallow from a paper cup filled with iced tea as Emma leaned forward.

“Jake,” Emma said, picking at a strand of hair that had stuck to her cheek, “how come you don't have a wife?”

He lurched forward, nearly choking on his drink. Tea spilled down the front of his blue shirt. Oblivious to her indelicate question, Emma persisted. “Well, how come?”

Savannah knew she should intervene and discourage Emma's question, but the truth was, she wanted to know herself. When Jake glanced sideways at her, she simply smiled.

Swiping at the front of his shirt, Jake answered irritably, “I had one.”

Savannah glanced up in surprise. So he
had
been married. She wasn't sure why that surprised her, but it did.

“What happened to her?” Emma asked.

Savannah's good breeding insisted she interrupt. “Pecan, you mustn't ask—”

“That's all right.” Jake cut Savannah off with a wave of his hand, then turned his attention to Emma. “I guess she liked money better than she liked me.”

Emma frowned as she thought about what Jake said. “I had a friend once—Alexandra—and she was nice to me so she could come over and play with my Priscilla Princess doll. When my neighbor's dog chewed Priscilla's arm off, Alexandra didn't want to play with me anymore. Aunt Savannah said Alexandra wasn't a very good friend.”

Jake looked at Savannah, his gaze intense. “No, Emma, she wasn't.”

Though it was hard for Savannah to imagine a woman loving money more than a man, she realized that those kind of women were in abundance. She felt an unreasonable tug of anger at a faceless woman she'd never met.

Emma set her sandwich aside and brushed the crumbs off her hands. “Did you have any kids?”

Jake's face darkened at the question and Savannah realized it was definitely time to ward off the questions. “Emma, look—” she pointed toward the stream “—I think I see a rabbit.”

Emma immediately scrambled up, then ran off, calling over her shoulder. “Save some cookies for me.”

Savannah sipped on her iced tea in the awkward silence that followed Emma's departure. “I'm sorry,” she said at last. “About your wife.”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“But you've never remarried.”

He shook his head. “Once was enough, thank you. I'll leave matrimony and kids to Jessica and Jared.”

Savannah knew she was risking the truce they'd called, but she had to ask. “How does Emma fit into your life, Jake? Is she replacing children you'll never have?”

His hard gaze met hers. “Emma is my sister. My flesh and blood. If I had ten kids I'd never turn my back on her. And since you're suddenly so interested in talking about our personal lives,” he added dryly, “why aren't you married?”

Annoyed with herself for pursuing this line of conversation, Savannah busied herself by repacking the lunch basket and stuffing the trash into a brown paper bag.

“I intend to,” she answered stiffly. “Soon.”

He'd moved closer to her on the blanket, and she felt the energy radiate from his body into hers. She stiffened when his breath fanned the back of her neck.

“You have someone in Atlanta?” His voice deepened.

Jake was staring at her mouth, Savannah realized, and her heart began to beat heavily, like a bass drum. “Not at the moment, but I'm sure something will come up.”

So there was no one waiting for Savannah back home. Jake hated to admit it mattered to him, but for some reason, it did. The smell of peaches drifted to him and he breathed in deeply, dragging the scent into his lungs and holding it there. When he slowly released it, he watched her reach up and gracefully rake her fingers though her hair. Desire pulsed through his veins as he wondered what those fingers would feel like on his body. On his skin.

Damn, but it was getting hot.

He swiped the back of his hand over his temple and tipped his hat back. Something told him it was going to get a hell of a lot hotter.

At the sound of Emma's laughter, Jake glanced up and watched as Emma gathered more wildflowers.

“Is that how you do it in Atlanta?” he turned back to Savannah and asked, curious at her choice of words for finding a husband. “Wait for something to ‘come up'?”

Savannah lifted one eyebrow and cast a sideways glance at him. “And I suppose you have a better way?”

“I have a better way, all right. Avoid the situation entirely.”

Does he really mean that?
Savannah wondered. He'd told her that lonely men make mistakes, and obviously he'd meant not only his father, but himself. “Would you really spend the rest of your life out here alone?” She waved a hand toward the mountains. “You wouldn't want to share all this with someone?”

“I never said anything about being alone. If the right woman came along, I'd be more than willing to share everything I have.” Savannah felt Jake's intense gaze skim over her, and the look in his eyes brought a swirl of heat low in her stomach. “Especially my bed.”

The deep sensuous tone of Jake's voice was like an electric current rippling over her skin. She realized she'd stopped breathing when he leaned back and said coolly, “Marriage just isn't part of the deal.”

Stunned, Savannah stared at him. Did he think she'd be interested in that kind of arrangement? A mixture of hurt and outrage coursed through her. And another feeling, though she hated to admit it.

Disappointment.

Hands tightly gripping the bag in her hand, she stood and looked down at him. “I expect that's something similar to the deal J.T. offered Angela.”

Eyes narrowed, Jake sat up straight. “We don't know anything about what my father offered your sister.”

“Maybe not. But I do know what I can offer their child, besides love. A stable home life, a good education and someday a father figure she can look up to.”

Father figure?
Anger, as unreasonable as it was unexpected, surged through Jake. “Emma has two big brothers. She doesn't need any more of a father figure than that.”

She laughed harshly. “I'll call and you can reprimand her over the phone when she misbehaves, or better yet, maybe you can videotape a weekly advice and lecture and mail it to me. We'll make popcorn every Friday night and watch it.”

He rose stiffly, hands on his hips as he moved closer to her. “We'll work something out.”

She faced him, arms folded. “There is no ‘we,' Jake. It's Emma and me. We came here so you could get to know each other, not for you to tell us how to run our lives. We managed just fine before you and when we leave we'll continue to do so.”

“Dammit, Savannah, for once can't you just—” He stopped and jerked his gaze upward. Eyes narrowed, he froze.

“What is it?” Savannah followed Jake's gaze.

She saw it then. In the distance, coming from the direction of the ranch.

A thick black curling cloud of smoke.

D
rought, wolves and fire were the stuff ranchers' nightmares were made of. Jake watched the black cloud of smoke grow bigger as they approached the ranch.

Don't let it be the barn, God. Please not the barn.

The animals would be trapped in there without anyone to help them out. The horses...Emma's calf.... He glanced down at the wide-eyed child beside him. Savannah, her own face pale, her eyes staring rigidly ahead, held her niece in the comfort of one arm. No one had spoken a word since they'd jumped into the truck.

Jake felt as if a steel band was closing around his chest. He white-knuckled the steering wheel and floored the accelerator. Each mile was a trip to hell and back, but finally he turned off the road, the truck fishtailing and sending a cloud of dust and rocks spinning from the back tires. As they swung sideways, Savannah held on tightly to the armrest with one arm and Emma with the other.

It wasn't the barn. He could tell that, even though they were still two miles away. Because there was so much smoke, he thought for a moment it might be the house, but as they grew nearer, he realized, with a second sigh of relief, that it wasn't.

What the hell was it?

As they neared the house, his question was answered. “It's the storage shed,” he said, pointing to a small structure several hundred yards behind the house that was engulfed in flames. “I keep spare tires in there. That's why there's so much smoke.”

Jake brought the truck to a screeching halt in front of the house and jumped out. The fire crackled and roared, swallowing the shed.

“Get the animals out of the barn,” he yelled over his shoulder to Savannah as he ran toward the side of the house. “If the wind shifts and carries any sparks, the roof might catch.”

Her heart pounding, Savannah watched Jake grab a high-pressure hose from the side of the house. He twisted the handle and a huge stream of water shot out from the wide nozzle.

Under strict orders not to move, Emma stayed in the truck while Savannah released the horses and Emma's calf into the corral. She was back at her niece's side within minutes, and they sat together in the cab and watched Jake fight the fire. Fortunately the shed was small and winds were light. The smoke turned gray, then almost white as the water doused the flames. Ashes fell like gray snowflakes and the stench of smoke and burned rubber singed the already hot air.

When nothing more than a steamy mist rose from the torched wooden structure, Jake signaled for Savannah to shut down the hose. Fists clenched at his sides, Jake approached the blackened, steaming shed and stared at it.

It could have been worse,
he told himself, but nevertheless, frustration had him kicking the front door. The door collapsed, falling inward. Part of the roof followed suit.

Damn!

Arms folded, Savannah stood next to Jake. “Was there anything valuable in there?”

When you're hanging on to a cliff by your fingernails, even the tiniest pebble makes a difference.
He shook his head slowly. “Spare tires for the equipment, some tools and engine parts. Nothing that can't be replaced.”

If he had the money. Which he didn't. Hell, he hadn't even been able to keep the insurance policy current.

The sound of embers crackling and wood settling drifted from inside the shed. “How did it start?” she asked.

Jake's frown deepened. “That's a good question. I haven't been out here for a while. It's wired for electricity, though. I suppose it's possible there was a short.”

He didn't sound as if he believed that for a minute, Savannah thought, but she also thought it best not to question him on it. At least, not now. “I've got to get back to Emma. She wants to make sure Betsy's all right.”

He nodded. “I'll be here for a while cleaning up, then I'll need to finish the chores I put off this morning. Tell Emma I'm sorry we had to cut the picnic short.”

Savannah saw the weary slump of Jake's shoulders. It wasn't enough he had more work on this ranch than one man could handle. Now he had to deal with this by himself. She felt an overwhelming need to take him in her arms, but she knew that he would consider any acceptance of comfort as a weakness. “What can I do?”

He shook his head. Soot and sweat covered his brow and he swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. “I've got it under control. Go on and take care of Emma.”

She started to walk away, then turned back. “Dammit, Jake,” she said, then quickly softened her voice. She reached out and touched his arm. “Please. Let me help you.”

Smoke trails curled around them as he studied her for a long moment. His gaze moved to her hand on his arm, and when he met her eyes again, his look was one of strained relief. “The three end stalls need cleaning and the horses could use some fresh water.”

She smiled slowly, pleased that he was finally letting her help. She was coming to understand more each day why he loved this ranch and this land so much. When you had to fight so hard to keep something, when you knew you might lose it at any minute, it mattered more. It meant something beyond dollar signs.

She turned and walked back to the truck. She hadn't the foggiest idea how to clean out a stall, but she'd figure it out.

* * *

Jake sat in the quiet darkness of his office, the only light a single crookneck lamp spotlighting the papers strewn across his desk top. He stared at the column of figures he'd totaled three times, hoping each time that they'd change. They didn't.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. It was two in the morning and he was no closer to a solution now than he was when he'd started five hours ago. It wasn't any one thing that was pushing him over the edge; it was a combination of everything. Fences down, sick animals, unexpected truck repairs, the fire today. He could deal with any one of those things separately. But combined, they were crushing him. It was slow, but just as effective. He was two months behind on the mortgage, three months behind on the tractor payments and extended to the limit with every supplier he dealt with. His savings were drained and the small sum of money J.T. had left him had just about run out.

He stared at the empty glass of whiskey in front of him and considered a refill. What the hell, he wasn't going to be much good for anything tomorrow, anyway. Why not go for broke? he thought, then laughed dryly at the expression. He
was
going broke.

Propping one leg up on his desk, he drew a deep breath and refused to give in to that possibility. He
would
hold on to Stone Creek, dammit. He just had to make it to the fall. This year's herd would bring in enough money to not only pay off his debts, but to finance some much-needed repairs around the ranch. And if he had a little left over, he mused, he could even take Savannah and Emma down to San Antonio for the Fall Festival. Emma would love the carnival, and Savannah would enjoy the—

What the hell was he thinking? Jake rubbed a hand over his face to clear his thoughts. Savannah and Emma wouldn't be here in the fall. They were leaving in two and a half weeks. Going back to Atlanta. To their fancy town house and fancy school.

The thought left a hollow feeling in his chest. He'd enjoyed Emma's being here. Maybe too much. He'd never realized how much he'd missed having children. His ex-wife came to his mind, and he had to close his eyes against the pain that shot through him. Her betrayal had been unforgivable. No woman would ever have that kind of hold on him again.

But he couldn't stop the image of Savannah that crept into his mind and his senses. He smiled, remembering how exhausted she'd looked this afternoon when he'd come into the barn. She was finishing the third stall, tossing hay in with a pitchfork. Her hair had hung in limp honey blond ringlets around her flushed face. When she stopped to wince at a blister on her hand, he watched her stretch, then arch her slender back, pressing her breasts tightly against her pink blouse. He'd stared at her, feeling as if a horse had kicked him in the gut. It made no difference that he was black from soot and ashes and she was covered with dirt and perspiration. He'd wanted—no, he'd
ached
—to lay her down in the fresh sweet hay she'd spread and cover her body with his.

He still ached, dammit.

He stared at his whiskey glass again. What the hell. It might be temporary, but he'd accept any comfort at the moment. He started to reach for the glass.

“Jake?”

The soft whisper nearly had him falling backward. He jerked his head up and saw her standing there, a shadowy curvy form in the doorway. He nearly groaned out loud.
Not now,
he thought with near desperation. He couldn't deal with this woman and what she did to him right now. It was too damn late and he was too damn tired.

“What is it?”

At the terse sound of Jake's voice, Savannah hesitated in the doorway, gripping the knot of her robe belt with cold fingers. The room was swathed in darkness, except for the desk lamp that illuminated Jake's denim-clad leg and scuffed boot. He hadn't moved, but she could see the outline of his tall form in the chair.

“Is something wrong?” he asked with more concern now, but he still hadn't moved.

“I was just going to get a drink of water and saw the light. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.”

She didn't tell him she hadn't been able to sleep. That he'd invaded her dreams and her thoughts and if she'd had to lie in that bed one more minute with all that empty space around her, she just might go crazy.

He said nothing, and silence, except for the soft tick-tick of a clock somewhere, surrounded them. The tension stretched taut, closing around her. She found it hard to breathe and her pulse began to beat low and heavy.

She started to back away.

“Come here, Savannah.”

Her heartbeat doubled at Jake's words. It was a command laden with sensuality. With desire. Her body responded at a level where she had no control. There was no logic here, no reason. Only raw open need.

She went to him.

“Give me your hand,” he said roughly.

She stood beside him, just barely able to see the features of his face. Her throat was too dry to speak and her fingers shook as she did what he asked.

He dragged his leg from the desk, leaning forward as he took her hand. The coarse texture of his fingers on hers made her pulse skip. He turned her palm to the light and examined the blister between her thumb and forefinger.

“Have you put something on this?”

“It's all right,” she whispered.

“You never know,” Jake said huskily. “Once something gets under your skin, there's no telling what can happen.”

He traced the lines on her palm with his thumb and Savannah felt her breasts tighten with anticipation. Heat coiled low in her stomach and settled between her thighs. She didn't stop him when he brought her hand to his mouth. When he pressed his lips to her palm, she closed her eyes.

“Savannah,” he murmured, and his hot breath sent waves of desire coursing through her. “Do you know what you do to me? Do you know how much I want you?”

Yes,
she wanted to scream.
As much as I want you.
But she couldn't speak. It would break the spell. She'd wake up and the dream would be gone. The mistrust would be back, the uncertainty. If she never spoke, then later she could pretend this had never happened.

His tongue caressed the sensitive skin on her palm and she bit the inside of her mouth to hold back the moan. When he moved upward, tracing the inside of her wrist, she did moan. An urgency grew between them and he circled her waist with his free hand, pulling her to him.

He drew her hand to his chest and slipped her fingers under the open fabric of his shirt. His skin burned where she touched him. “I've wanted to feel your hands on my skin since the first time I met you.”

Savannah felt as if they were two wild animals, alone in the dark, driven by forces beyond their control. She withdrew her hand from Jake and their gazes locked while she untied the belt of her light cotton robe. He cupped her bottom with his hands and buried his face in her stomach. Murmuring his name, she raked her hands through his thick hair.

Never had she given herself so completely, so mindlessly to physical desire. Doubt and distrust melted away. Need consumed her, so sweet and so intense, she thought she might cry.

His hands slipped under her robe and pushed her short gown upward, exposing her to him. She arched toward him, gasping now as he slid both hands up her bare stomach and cupped her breasts. She moaned again as he took one swollen breast into his mouth and sucked the hardened nipple.

The light scratching of Jake's beard against her sensitive skin sent sensation after sensation rippling through her. She held tightly to him, digging her fingernails into the skin of his shoulders.

“Jake...Jake...” she whispered over and over.

“What, Savannah?” he murmured. “Tell me what you want.”

“I...” She caught her lower lip between her teeth as he circled the peaks of her breasts with his thumbs. “I want...”

Those two words had her hesitating. What
did
she want? A one-night stand with a man who'd openly admitted he wasn't interested in anything but the physical side of love? A man who stood to gain a great deal by one simple conquest?

Her body said yes—screamed it—but her head said no. She couldn't do this. One sister falling for the Stone charm was enough. She remembered the pain Angela had gone through. Savannah was determined not to make the same mistake.

She stepped away, breaking contact between them and pulling her robe back together. “I shouldn't have come in here, Jake. What I want is something entirely different from what you want. I'm sorry.”

He sat there for a moment in the shadows, unmoving. When he spoke at last, his voice was as weary as it was heavy. “I'm sorry, too.”