Sycamore Hill (30 page)

Casting several wary glances around, I began to disrobe hurriedly.
In only a moment I was undressed completely. And without further hesitation I
stepped into the chilly water. Initially, I only went into the water up to my
thighs, then I submerged my body up to my neck. I thought about wetting my hair
and wavered. Then, with a laugh, I pulled the pins from my severe bun and let
my hair cascade down into the water. I leaned back until it was wet to the
scalp, then began a leisurely backstroke around the pool.

My body became used to the cool water. I relaxed and sat back on
my heels so that the water near the bank was up to my chin. I closed my eyes
and listened to the birds. I had been in the pool almost ten minutes when I
heard a horse whinny from somewhere up the hill. A shock of alarm and panic
went through me as I jerked around and looked up.

There was no one up there but my horse. I thought briefly of some
passerby seeing me in the pool. I laughed at the thought. What would the people
in town say if they heard of their prim schoolmarm bathing naked in the river?
I envisioned Reverend Hayes’s outraged, horrified expression, and I laughed
again. Yet, I decided that it was time to get out, dry off and get back into my
clothes before just such a possibility arose. The reality would not be amusing
at all.

Once back in my brown skirt and high-necked starched white blouse,
I wondered what to do about my hair. I sat down and used my fingers to spread
it out over my shoulders. Its weight soaked my blouse, but as I kept pushing my
fingers through it, the heat from the sun dried it until it glistened like
copper.

Looking up, I judged it to be near three o’clock from the position
of the sun. I reached up and felt my hair again. It was not quite dry, but it
would have to do. Raking my fingers through it, I gathered it tightly at the
nape of my neck and twisted it back into its customary style. I set the long
pins in to hold it securely. I brushed my skirt free of sand and leaves as I
stood, and then I started back up the hill, where my horse was still munching
contentedly at some grass.

I felt like walking for a while; so I took the reins and led the
horse up the hill. When I reached the top, I started to mount. Then I heard
someone give a cough, as though wanting to make his presence known while not
alarming me. I looked behind me, but saw no one. I pressed my hand against the
horse, and it stepped aside as I glanced under its neck.

Jordan Bennett was leaning against an oak, a blade of grass
between his teeth. He was grinning.

A flash of surprise coursed through me, and at the same time I
thanked God he had not been there an hour before. I turned to look down the
hill. From where he stood, he had a perfect vantage point of the pool, while
remaining concealed from below. I looked at him again, and something in his
laughing eyes made me feel suddenly very shaky and unsure of myself.

“How ... how long have you been there?” I asked faintly. He pushed
away from the tree and walked toward me. When he was standing just in front of
me, he removed the straw from his mouth and flicked it to the ground.

“You have a small birthmark about five inches above your right
knee. Rather nicely positioned on the inside of your thigh,” he answered, the
grin widening wickedly. I felt the blood leave my face and then surge back
until my cheeks were on fire. The whinny had not come from my horse, I thought
too late. I looked away from Jordan and saw his stallion tied a short distance
away, also well out of sight of the pool.

Damn him! I thought furiously. Damn him all to hell! “You’re even
more a rogue than I thought!” I cried.

“Is that possible?” He laughed, enjoying my discomfort.

“If you had any decency in you at all, you would have gone away.
And what are you doing here anyway? I’m not anywhere near your precious ranch!”
I spoke wildly.

“You are on my ranch, Miss McFarland,” he told me. There was a
certain glint in his eyes that warned me of consequences to come. It brought
back all the feelings he had aroused that night in my room.

“I am not,” I insisted shakily.

“You have the typical female sense of direction.” He laughed
again. “You’re a full mile inside Eden Rock boundaries.” I stared up at him,
dubious. He raised his hand and pointed south.

“You see that line of low hills where the eucalyptus are? That’s
the start of my land.”

“Well, I didn’t know,” I said, quietly defensive while wondering
that mess I had gotten myself into now.

“Too bad,” he said softly. “For you, that is.”

“That still doesn’t alter things,” I replied, blinking fast as my
mind started to whirl madly. Just what form would his threat take, I wondered
frantically. What was he possibly thinking to have that look back in his eyes?
“You should have made yourself known earlier or, better still, ridden away!”

“I don’t know a man alive who would ride away from the scene I
just enjoyed,” he answered. His eyes moved down, lingering on the rapid rise
and fall of my breasts. He smiled.

“Any gentleman would have,” I said fiercely. His eyes came back up
to mine, and he laughed out loud.

“You think so? How very little you know about men, my dear Miss
McFarland.”

“Well, I’m not going to stand here arguing with you about it,” I
managed, turning quickly away to escape, but he moved quickly as well. He
slapped my horse hard on the rump, sending him cantering off with a start.

“Why did you do that?” I gasped in dismay, staring at Jordan. Then
I turned to look at my horse a distance away. I started to run after it, but
Jordan’s arm looped around my waist and lifted me off the ground. His mouth was
next to my ear.

“Don’t you remember what I told you about coming onto my
territory?”

I tried desperately to pry his fingers loose. “Let... go of me...
Mr. Bennett,” I gasped, kicking and twisting.

“Not this time!”

My heart thudded. “The message you sent by way of Linda implied
safe passage,” I said quickly. “Now put me down!”

“Nothing doing.” He laughed. “And I did offer you ‘safe passage,’
as you call it, to the ranch house for the purpose of discussing Linda’s
progress in school, not safe passage to wander around on my land and then bathe
naked as a jaybird in my river.”

“Then put me down, and we will talk about Linda,” I pleaded,
squirming. He set me on my feet again, and I hastily rearranged my clothing,
stuffing my blouse back into my skirt. My face could not have been redder, nor
my heart racing faster.

‘Talk away,” he said, crossing his arms. And I did. I talked out
of desperation. I was relieved that he was listening!

“Why don’t we sit down?” he suggested. “I don’t know about you,
but I’m getting hot standing out here in the sun.”

Jordan indicated the shade beneath the big oak. He started toward
it, and I had little choice but to follow. When he sat down, I hesitated. I
could hardly stand above him like this and finish telling him about Linda’s
progress and educational needs. So I slowly sat down, eyeing him warily. He
smiled slightly, his eyes mocking. Then he plucked another straw to chew on.

“You were saying that Linda has some difficulties in expressing
herself,” he prodded.

“She’s very shy, except with Diego,” I managed. Then I continued
slowly, finally launching into some suggestions on how he could help her. He
nodded. When I finished, I cast around for something more to say.

“Seems I’ve misjudged your teaching abilities,” Jordan said
casually. He had reclined on the grass, his head supported by his hand. “But I
still think you’re better suited for other things.” His expression was
unreadable. I was not sure what he meant by that cryptic statement; so I was
not going to take either offense or pleasure in it.

“I enjoy teaching very much,” I said frankly. He was studying me,
and I shifted restlessly. “Well, that’s all I have to say,” I told him nervously.
“Do you have any questions?”

“I’ve a lot of questions, Miss McFarland,” he said wryly, a smile
pulling up the comers of his mouth. My heart lurched.

“What did you want to know?” I asked.

“How is it you’ve never gotten married?”

My mouth tightened, and I started to get up. His hand caught my
wrist, preventing me from rising.

“Well?”

“That’s not the kind of question I meant!”

“You didn’t qualify yourself.” His thumb caressed the inside of my
wrist. I pulled back, disturbed by the intimate touch. But his hold was
unyielding though painless.

“I never met anyone I wanted to marry,” I stammered. He looked at
me closely, his expression changing slightly.

“Did you have many suitors?” He was taunting me again.

“If you must know the truth, I didn’t have any!” I was stung to
admit. I pulled back again, but he retained an even firmer hold on my wrist.
His eyes narrowed fractionally.

“You expect me to believe that?”

I tried to tell myself it did not matter what he thought about me.
Then I knew it did matter. What Jordan thought of me mattered very much.

“It’s true. I was hardly in a position to meet any men, and if I
had, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

He frowned, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?”

“My guardians, the Haversalls, were not my relations,” I explained.
“I was not in their social sphere. I did not mingle with their friends, and I
never had the opportunity to make friends of my own.”

“Why not?” He was still frowning.

I remembered the hours of work I had done for the Haversalls. The
way I had answered their needs as charwoman, scullery maid and lady’s hand
servant. I thought also of the fact that the Haversalls had stolen my
inheritance while making me more and more dependent on them. I remembered the
gratitude Marcella Haversall had reminded me I owed them, and how guilty I had
felt each time I had contemplated leaving them and making a life of my own
elsewhere. I remembered the day in the parlor, talking with Bradford Dobson and
learning the real state of affairs. My throat closed, and I averted my face from
Jordan’s.

“What are you thinking about, Abby?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago and
best forgotten.”

I was hardly aware that he had pushed himself into a sitting
position until I felt his fingers taking the pins from my hair. My eyes
widened, and before I could protest, he lowered his head and touched my lips
with his in a soft kiss. I moved back away from him, my heart pounding like
something wild fighting for freedom. He looked at me with that faintly mocking
smile, his eyes very blue. Then he began to lower his head again.

“Don’t...” I strained away, wanting to stand up, yet not wanting
to.

“We’re playing by my rules now. Remember?” he questioned softly,
now pressing his mouth against the curve of my neck. I shuddered ecstatically.
My eyes drooped closed, then opened wide again as his hand moved from my face
to my breasts. I pushed it away.

“I’m not very good at parlor games, Mr. Bennett!” I reminded him
tremulously. I pressed my hands against his chest. I wanted to escape. He set
his weight against me so that I fell backward onto the grass.

“Nor am I, Miss McFarland,” he agreed mockingly, smiling down from
above me.

“Please, let me go.” I twisted and started to kick out, but he put
one leg over mine to still my struggles.

“Nothing you can say is going to stop me,” he said frankly. “I’m
going to do what I’ve wanted to since I first saw you walking along the road in
the middle of August, carrying that ridiculous threadbare carpetbag of yours.”
He leaned down and kissed me then, and there was no gentleness in it, only a
sensual demand he intended me to meet. When he raised his head, my mouth was
trembling.

“Tears won’t work with me, Abby,” he murmured. “Especially when I
know there’s no reason for them.”

I turned my head away as his lowered again. “You don’t
understand....” He had rejected my love once before, leaving me feeling bereft
and ashamed. And yet, I wanted him again even more than I had that first time
in my room. I was afraid, so afraid of why he was doing this.

Jordan nuzzled my neck, nipping me slightly. “I understand that
some things defy all the rules and reason in the world, like what we feel for
each other,” he was saying. “You won’t admit it yet, but you want me as much as
I want you. If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t be here with you now.” He pulled
me full against him as he rolled sideways to relieve me of his weight.

“Now, kiss me back, damn you,” he challenged softly, and because I
really wanted to, I did.

What fears and reservations I had dissolved with Jordan’s expert
love-making. I cared about nothing except that he hold me, kiss me, possess me.
My response was instinctive and irreversible, and I knew that he reveled in it,
taking all that I was willing to give and demanding that which I was afraid at
the last second to relinquish. I felt as though I belonged in Jordan’s arms,
and that whatever was in his past did not matter at all. What mattered was now
and the ecstasy of giving myself to him completely, because I loved him.