Sandra Chastain (11 page)

“Where do I make my X?” Eugene said seriously,
as he wrote Eugene Philip Wesley Manderville, III, in the space indicated.

“The third?” Letty chortled in disbelief. “There couldn’t have been a first, and a second. You have to be an original.”

“Ah, madam, there are many sides to Eugene of which you are not yet aware. But never fear, you will be.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Letty said. “Let me show you to the door, Judge. Do we keep those papers, or do you need to file them somewhere?”

“Each of the agreeing parties keeps one, and I have one for my files.”

Letty ushered the judge from the study. Eugene assisted by carrying his briefcase.

The study was suddenly empty and quiet.

Rusty took a shaky breath and wondered what she had done.

Cade turned back toward the fire to cover his own confusing thoughts. He’d forced her into agreeing that the marriage would be real, if there were children. And he didn’t know if he could ever fit into Rusty Wilder’s world. He didn’t know that he wanted to. What he wanted was the woman. What in hell had he done?

“Cade? Why did you go to see the doctor? Are you sick?”

“Doctor?” He let out a deep breath. “Not the doctor, Rusty, the veterinarian,” he answered absently. “I went into Coyote Wells to look over a map of the area and stopped by the vet on the way back.”

“Why? I have all the maps you need in the office.”

“Not the maps dealing with water tables and drilling rights.”

“That’s a waste of time,” Rusty said. “Every rancher in the valley has spent a fortune drilling. Why’d you stop by Will Fleming’s?”

“I thought it would be good to get acquainted if I’m going to live here. We talked about bulls and tranquilizer guns. I’m a pretty fair shot, and if there’s a way to control your bull with tranquilizers, I thought I might be able to help out. I also found out—”

If Rusty had stopped to think, she would have realized that what he said made sense. But she couldn’t. All she heard was that he had taken it upon himself to go to town and meddle in the business of running Silverwild without talking it over with her, before she had a chance to explain Cade’s presence.

“I suppose you told Will that you were here as—to—to be my private stud? That must have given him a big laugh. You couldn’t have picked a more perfect person to share our plans with. You see, Will Fleming was your biggest rival. If I’d belonged to his church, we probably would have married long ago. As it is, he almost had your job. Maybe I should have chosen him.”

She hadn’t meant to say that. She didn’t even think of Cade in those crude terms. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. Cade McCall would never be anybody’s stud. He was a man, a proud man, who’d given up his plans for his own life to make a better home for his child. He was exactly the kind of man she’d choose as a father for her child. And what was she giving him? A cruel, mean-minded shrew.

“Cade—” she began.

“Forget it, Mrs. Wilder,” Cade said coldly. “You
didn’t choose him. You picked me, and I have a contract that I intend to hold you to. Either way, I figure I can’t lose. I’ll be married to the wealthiest woman in the state, and I’ll have an unlimited supply of sex.” He picked up his contract and folded it carefully. “I’d better take good care of this. It’s worth a lot of money.”

He strode out of the room without a backward glance.

Rusty watched in stunned disbelief. A log in the fireplace broke and set off a shower of sparks.

What had she done?

The night was silent. Not a quiver of movement broke the quiet; not a shiver of wind brushed against the window. To Rusty it was as if the valley had pulled the mountain on top of itself to hide. She paced the floor restlessly.

Not since Ben’s death had she felt so lost and out of control. Her careful plans had vanished in a blaze of fire. From the moment she’d met Cade McCall in the airport, she’d been caught on an emotional roller coaster—feeling wild anticipation one minute and desperate anxiety the next. She’d allowed Cade McCall to overshadow every plan she’d made and every thought she had. Instead of Silverwild being the focus of her existence, Cade McCall had become her first thought in the morning and her last thought at night.

Never before had she met an obstacle she couldn’t see a way around. She’d prided herself on being able to define the problem, look for an
answer, and implement the steps necessary for a solution. But now Cade was the problem, and the steps she needed to take to get past her fascination with him entailed the very action she’d hired him for—sharing his bed. And now he’d taken that option away from her.

Across the open courtyard opposite Rusty’s room, Cade strode back and forth, racked with a raging consternation he couldn’t shake. For the first time since he’d come home and found Janie gone from their apartment, he was floundering. Even learning about Pixie and assuming responsibility for a child he didn’t know he had was nothing compared to the cloud of indecision that had fallen over him now. He didn’t know why he’d insisted on the marriage remaining intact. He’d thought once that he had been in love. He’d been wrong.

Loving homes with peace and satisfaction were myths. This time he wasn’t even married to the woman, and he was churning with anger, with frustration. He felt great concern for his child, who already viewed Rusty as Glenda, the good witch, who gave pleasant good-night dreams. Could he control his wild desire for a hot-tempered witch who was determined to rule her own little kingdom?

If only he could find an answer, a temporary answer, one that would give him time to work out another solution. Not only for himself and Pixie, but for Eugene as well.

A temporary solution. A vision of Rusty flooded into his mind. There was a roaring in Cade’s ears
that blocked out all rational thought. He tried to draw in a deep calming breath, but his heartbeat seemed to accelerate. With a roar of fury he pushed open the door that lead to the patio and plunged into the icy night air. He peeled -off his sweater and dropped it to the floor, welcoming the feel of the icy air on his chest. Ice and cold he could deal with.

He leaned his head over the bannister and drew in a long desperate breath, then lifted his head, his eyes catching the light in the room across from him.

A shadow was moving back and forth—pausing, turning, then pacing again. He could feel Rusty’s distress as if he were standing in the room with her. They were tearing each other apart. She too was in great pain, and he was the cause. Before he gave rational thought to his actions, he broke into a run around the patio, hugging the U-shaped house. He reached her door and turned the knob.

It opened.

Rusty stopped, wide-eyed and surprised, her lips mouthing his name. “Cade.”

His hands were suddenly on her shoulders, stroking the heat of her skin. He moved his fingertips around her neck, found the zipper beneath her hair, and pulled it down, letting the dress puddle in a pink cloud at her feet. Lacy white underwear was torn away, and she was standing before him, dewy white skin, fiery red hair tousled wildly, green eyes glazed with passion he’d never expected to see.

His hand, still resting on the nape of her neck, lifted the heavy mane of her hair, threading it
through his fingers, across her shoulders, and down her breasts. His rough fingertips circled one nipple, studying her as if he’d never seen a woman’s body before.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, “every part of you. A flame ready to flare up at my touch.” His other hand caressed her body, lifting the breast, holding her so that he could lean forward and rub his chest against her. He felt her shudder and hoped that it signaled the heat that constantly simmered beneath her deceptively cool exterior.

“You,” she whispered, threading her hands in the rich fullness of his hair. “I want to touch you.” Her hands plunged down his chest, lingering at the waist of his jeans before unsnapping them and sliding her hand inside, touching him, circling the solid evidence of his desire. He groaned, then pulled her hand away.

“Cade, please.” She caught his waistband in her hands and pulled his jeans down, freeing him to thrust forward in blatant arousal. She gasped, then reached for his briefs and pulled them down legs that were corded with muscles.

Cade’s body, still cold from the patio, was like ice against her feverish need. His feet were already bare. He stepped out of the jeans and gave them a kick, sending his and her clothes across the floor in a wild tangle of lace and denim. As their bodies touched, every sensation was more acute, more alive, more demanding than she’d ever known, and Cade was responding in kind.

Fire met ice.

The sizzle was almost audible. Cade muttered a garbled curse and claimed her lips with a violence that was met with equal force. Probing, possessive,
arching tongues demanded and received as Cade dropped to the floor, bringing Rusty to the carpet beneath him. For a long moment he raised himself on his elbows and glared at her, not in gentle need but in a fury that was fed by passion.

Then he lifted himself over her and stared down into her eyes. A blaze of a thousand sensations ran through his veins and settled with a thud in his heart. Even as he devoured her with his eyes, he knew that whatever happened in their crazy bargain, he was in love with this woman. He wanted her, yes. But he wanted her for always, and six months of making love wouldn’t be enough.

Beneath him, Rusty felt as if she were being devoured by the wild passion of Cade McCall. There wasn’t a part of them that wasn’t fused. There was no plunging in and withdrawing. Even as he pulled back, she lifted herself and moved with him. His hands, now beneath her body, held her to him so they were never apart. It was the rhythm of life, of giving, of total surrender.

And when the climax came, it ripped through them like the reverberating shudder of an avalanche in the wilderness, rolling on and on, then gradually dying in the wonder of its splendor.

Their making love was more than a simple touching, it was a merging of two souls.

And then he pulled away.

The powerful sensation subsided, the heat cooled and left two people, still touching, yet more separate than before.

Rusty opened her eyes into the dark depths of Cade’s—acceptance? Defeat? She couldn’t be sure. She only knew that they’d overpowered each other,
extracting and claiming what might have been refused if they hadn’t been on fire.

“You’ve won,” he said as he pulled away and stood up. “I can’t stay away from you. You’ve hired yourself a man. But if this relationship has a chance of working, sleeping with you won’t be enough. I have to find a place for myself here.”

“Cade, I want—”

“You want. I want. You’ve branded me with fire, and we’ll destroy each other if we don’t find a common ground. I’ll give you your six months. For now, I’m just like that bull—bought.”

He pulled on his jeans and slipped out the door into the night. Rusty felt moisture in her eyes. She should have felt triumph at her success, but at this moment she felt only sadness. She crawled to her bed and lifted herself into its protective covers, snuggling deep inside like a small child afraid of the dark.

She felt drained. She felt ashamed.

Then if flickered, a tiny warm sensation somewhere deep inside. Even as she acknowledged its presence, she felt it begin to glow. Cade was wrong about her having taken his soul. She’d only borrowed it for a while, to comfort hers and give it life. She pulled the other pillow into her arms and buried her face against it.

Cade. She wanted him again, here, in her arms. And she’d find a way to make it so. Rusty Wilder McCall—the name had a nice ring to it. Maybe a compromise would be possible. Will Fleming would never have fit, in her imagination, or her arms. In the end he’d married his childhood sweetheart, Ann-Marie. They belonged together.

Maybe she and Cade McCall belonged together
too. Maybe not. But Cade McCall was real. She smiled. Cade McCall was a lot like Pretty Boy—awesome.

Cade didn’t leave the next morning. But he might as well have. For the next week he spent all his time on the range with Doak and the men, leaving before Rusty got up and returning late at night. He found every crook and corner of the distant range to ride in during the day. He ate with the hands, and where he slept she wasn’t sure.

Rusty let him go. She knew that she had to let him find a way to live on the ranch. Finally she was obligated to send word to Cade by Letty that the dance they were attending was to be a formal affair. She offered to order a tux, but Letty said that Cade’s reply was that he understood and he’d make his own arrangements. He did, however, ask for use of the truck when he needed it, and Rusty agreed.

Until the plane was repaired, Rusty was forced to rely on the Jeep or remain on the ranch. There was a large black limo that had been used when Ben was alive, but Rusty hadn’t ridden in it since the funeral. She spent her time in her office, working on the computer, entering figures, making business calls, and trying to decide how best to convince her fellow ranchers to make use of Pretty Boy’s skills. Hefty stud fees would go a long way toward easing the shortage of ready cash in her bank account.

Breeding a new line was as important to her competition as it was to her. For it was her water that they wanted for their cattle. It was her water
that the melon and wheat farmers wanted too. But she didn’t have an answer for that yet.

The spring thaw had already begun up in the mountains. The runoff would soon reach the valley. She glanced out the window. The mountains were like steps with great dry areas in between. The water from above melted, ran across the dry stretch of land too hard for too long to absorb it, and found its way to the river. If somehow that water could be captured without interfering with the flow of the river, many of the problems between Rusty and the other ranchers could be solved.

As Rusty peered out the window, she caught sight of Pixie dancing across the courtyard toward the corral. In her hand was an after-school treat, a cup of milk and a piece of jelly cake. She reached the fence separating the corral from the rest of the barnyard and stopped. Rusty could tell she was talking to someone, but the corner of the house kept her from seeing who was beyond the fence, until—