CHAPTER FIVE
BESS HAD HERSELF under control by the time she went upstairs to say good-night to Gussie. She’d wiped the tears away and even forced herself to smile as she carried her mother a cup of herbal tea and some cheese for a bedtime snack.
“Feeling better?” she asked Gussie.
The older woman stretched lazily. “A little, I suppose. It’s very lonely without your father, Bess.”
“Yes, I know,” Bess said gently.
“I thought I heard the car leave while I was napping,” Gussie said, eyeing her daughter. “Did you go out?”
“Just to the store for a minute, to get some more tea,” she prevaricated.
“Oh. Well, you really should tell me when you’re going out. I might have needed something.”
Bess felt herself bristle. This was going to be unbearable. Now that her father was gone, she could already see Gussie’s attention turning inward, to her own comfort. Bess was going to be trapped, just as Cade had said.
“Now listen, Mother—” Bess began.
“I’m so tired and sleepy, darling. I simply must rest,” Gussie said with a weary smile. “Sleep tight, baby.”
Bess almost stood her ground, but that smile cut the ground out from under her. She stood up. “You, too, Mama.”
“And don’t forget to lock the doors.”
“No, Mama.”
“You’re such a nice child, Bess.” She lay back, sipping her tea.
Nice, Bess thought as she went to her own room. Nice, but thick as a plank. She was going to have to do something to shake Gussie out of her tearful, clinging mood. Perhaps that would work itself out in time. She had to hope it would.
Meanwhile she didn’t dare tell her mother anything about going to see Cade with Great-aunt Dorie’s pearls. It would be the final straw, to have to hear Gussie ranting about that.
That was unkind, Bess told herself as she put the pearls away in her drawer. Gussie did try, but she just didn’t have many maternal instincts. Bess looked at the sheen of the pearls against their black velvet bed and touched them lightly. Save them for her eldest child, Cade had said. Her eyes softened as she thought about a child. Cade’s child, dark-eyed and dark-haired, lying in her arms. It was the sweetest kind of daydream. Of course that’s all it would ever be. Although his hunger for children was well-known, and he made no secret of the fact that one day he wanted an heir very much, Cade seemed in no rush to involve himself with a woman. And now there would be no money and no time for romance. He was going to spend the next few months trying to save his inheritance, and Bess felt terrible that she’d had even a small part in seeing him brought to his knees. She only wished there was something she could do.
The things he’d said to her still hurt. Even though she could understand that he was frustrated about the financial loss, and her defense of her mother, his bitter anger had wounded her. Especially that crack about not wanting her. What made it so much worse was that it was true. He knew how she felt about him now, and maybe it was just as well that she and Gussie were leaving town. It would be hell to live near Cade and have him know how she felt.
He’d seemed for just a few seconds to want her as badly as she’d wanted him. But that was probably just her imagination. He’d been angry. Of course he’d started to come after her. She spent most of the night trying to decide why.
That night was the longest she’d ever spent. She couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her father’s face. He’d been a wonderful father, a cheerful, smiling man who did anything Gussie wanted him to without protest. He had loved her mother so. But even that love hadn’t been enough to make up for the disgrace of what he’d done. He’d betrayed his friends. He hadn’t meant to. It had sounded like a perfectly respectable financial investment, but he’d been played for a fool, and that was what had driven him to suicide.
Bess cried for all of them. For the father she no longer had. For her mother, who was so weak and foolish and demanding. For Cade, who stood to lose everything on earth he loved. Even for herself, because Cade was forever beyond her reach.
She was up at the crack of dawn, worn and still half-asleep. She dressed in an old pair of designer jeans and a long-sleeved pink shirt with her boots to go riding. It was cold, so she threw on a jacket, as well. Gussie wouldn’t awaken until at least eleven, so the morning was Bess’s. She felt free suddenly, overwhelmed with relief because she could have a little time to herself after days of grief and mourning.
She went down to the stable for one last ride on her horse. Tina was a huge Belgian, a beautiful tan-and-white draft horse and dear to Bess’s heart. She’d begged for the animal for her twentieth birthday, and her father had bought Tina for her. She remembered her father smiling as he commented that it would sure be hard to find a saddle that would go across the animal’s broad back. But he’d produced one, and despite his faint apprehension about letting his only child have such an enormous horse, he’d learned, as Bess had, that Tina was a gentle giant. She was never mean or temperamental, and not once had she tried to throw Bess.
Giving her up would be almost as hard as giving up Spanish House. But there was no choice. There wouldn’t be any place in San Antonio where she could afford to keep a horse. Tina had to go. There had already been two offers for her, but Bess had refused both. One was from a woman with a mean-looking husband, who’d said haughtily that he knew how to handle a horse—all it took was a good beating. The second offer had come from a teenage girl who wanted the horse desperately but wasn’t sure she could come up with the money it would take to buy Tina and then to house and feed her. The girl’s parents didn’t even have a barn.
She sighed as she saddled Tina and rode her down to the creek. It was a beautiful day for winter, and even though her jacket felt good, it would probably be warm enough to go in her shirtsleeves later. Texas weather was unpredictable, she mused.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the other horse until it was almost upon her. She turned in the saddle to see Cade riding up beside her on his buckskin gelding.
Her heart ran away. Despite the way they’d parted company the night before, just the sight of him was heaven. But she kept her eyes averted so that he wouldn’t see how hopeless she felt.
“I thought it was you,” Cade said, leaning over the saddle horn to study her. “You sit that oversize cayuse pretty good.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly. Any praise from Cade was rare. She shifted restlessly in the saddle and didn’t look at him. She was still smarting from his hurtful remarks of the night before, and she wondered why he’d approached her.
“But you still haven’t got those stirrups right.”
“No point now,” she sighed. “She’s going to be sold at auction. This is my last ride.”
His dark eyes studied her in the silence of open country, flatland reaching to the horizon, vivid blue skies and not a sound except for an occasional barking dog. She was distant, and he had only himself to blame. He hadn’t slept, remembering how he’d treated her the night before.
“If I could afford her, I’d buy her from you,” he said gently. “But I can’t manage it now.”
She bit her lower lip. It was so kind...
“Don’t, for God’s sake, start crying,” he said. “I can’t stand tears.”
She forced herself not to break down. She shook her head to clear her eyes as she stared at the range and not at him. “What are you doing out here so early?”
“Looking for you,” he said heavily. “I said some harsh things to you last night.” He bent his head to light a cigarette, because he hated apologies. “I didn’t mean half of them.”
She turned in the saddle, liking the familiar creak of the leather, the way Tina’s head came up and she tossed her mane. Familiar things, familiar sounds, that would soon be memories. “It’s all right,” she said. The almost-apology brought the light back into her life. She felt so vulnerable with him. “I guess you felt like saying worse, because of all the trouble we’ve caused you and your family.”
“I told you before that it wasn’t completely your father’s fault.”
“Yes, but—”
“What will you do?”
Her eyes glanced off his and back to the saddle horn. “Go to San Antonio. Mama doesn’t want to, but it’s the only place I can find work.”
“You can find work?” he exploded.
She cringed at the white heat in his deep, slow voice. “Now, Cade...”
“Don’t you ‘Now, Cade’ me!” he said shortly. “There’s nothing wrong with Gussie. Why can’t she go to work and help out?”
“She’s never had to work,” she said, wondering why she should defend her mother when she agreed wholeheartedly with Cade.
“I’ve never had to wash dishes, but I could if it came to it,” he returned. “People do what they have to do.”
“My mother doesn’t,” she said simply. “Anyway,” she added to divert him, “I can get a job as a copywriter. Advertising work pays well.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered. “I don’t have much contact with cities or city professions. All I know is cattle.”
“You know them pretty well,” she said with a faint smile. “You were making money when all the other cattlemen were losing theirs.”
“I’m a renegade,” he said simply. “I use the same methods my great-grandfather did. They worked for him.”
“They’ll work for you, too, Cade,” she said gently. “I know you can pull the ranch out of the fire.”
He stared at her silently. She had such unshakable faith in what he could do. All that sweet hero worship was driving him to his knees, even though he knew it couldn’t last. Once she got out from under Gussie’s thumb and felt her wings, there’d be no stopping her. Then, maybe, when she could see him as a man and not a caricature of what he really was, there might be some hope for them. But that looked as if it was a long way off.
“Don’t let your mother get her hands on those pearls,” he said unexpectedly. “They’ll go the way of anything else she can liquidate.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, agreeing with him for once. “I told her they were costume jewelry,” she added with a faint smile.
“It won’t work if she gets a close look at them,” he murmured.
She knew that, too. “Why do you feel so strongly about them, Cade?” she asked.
“Because they’re a legacy. Something that’s been in your family a long time, a piece of history for the children you’ll have one day.”
She felt herself coloring. “I don’t know that I’ll ever have any.”
“You will,” he said. “So will I. I want half a dozen,” he mused, letting his eyes run over the land, the horizon. “Ranches are tailor-made for big families. This one is big enough for my kids, and for Gary’s and Robert’s, too. Gary’s too city-minded to settle here, and I don’t know about Robert. But it’s in my blood. I’ll never be able to leave it.”
She’d known that already, but it was new to have him talk to her without the usual cold hostility in his voice. Perhaps it was because she was leaving. And maybe there was a little guilt for the things he’d said the night before.
“Anyway,” he continued, “legacies shouldn’t be used to get ready cash. Gussie isn’t sentimental. You are.”
She smiled shyly. “I guess I am, at that.”
“Get down for a bit.” He swung gracefully out of the saddle and helped her down, while she tried to control an irrational urge to throw her arms around him and hang on. Her heart was beating wildly when he put her down and moved quickly away to tie the horses separately to small trees.
He stood on the banks of the creek, leaning back against a big oak, smoking his cigarette while he studied the small flow of water over the rocks. He was wearing denims and a blue-checked shirt with his shepherd’s coat and a battered old tan Stetson, and to Bess’s eyes he looked the very picture of a working cowboy. His boots, like his hat, were worn with use, and he was wearing working spurs—bronc spurs, in fact, small rowels with pincer edges around them that looked fierce but only pulled the hair of the animal they were used on. A horse’s hide was tough and not easily damaged if the right kind of spurs were worn, and Cade knew the right kind to wear.
“You’ve been breaking horses,” she said, because she knew from experience that he only wore those particular spurs when he was riding new additions to the remuda.
“Helping Dally,” he corrected. Dally was the ranch’s wrangler, and a good one. “We compromised. He wanted to take three years and I had three weeks, so he turns his back while I help him break them to the saddle. Besides, it’s good practice for the rodeo.”
She knew that he competed at rodeos all around the Southwest and that he won a lot. He needed the money to help prop up Lariat.
“It’s dangerous work.” She remembered so well the cowhand several years ago who’d had his back broken when a bronc slung him off against the barn wall. “You pulled that tendon...”
“I barely limp at all now,” he said. “And any ranch work is dangerous.” He turned his head and looked at her, and she could see the light of challenge in his dark eyes. “That’s why I enjoy it.”
“Race-car drivers,” she murmured. “Mountain climbers. Skydivers. Ranchers—”
“Not to mention little girls who buy oversize horses,” he inserted, nodding toward Tina, who was towering over his own buckskin.
“She’s terribly gentle.”
“I guess so. Your father and I had words over her, but he finally convinced me that you’d be safe.”
She went warm all over to think that he’d been concerned about her. He’d never said anything to her, and neither had her father.
“But Gussie never cared, did she?” he asked pointedly, his cold eyes holding hers. “Not about seeing you trampled by an oversize horse or anything else. Unless it interfered with her comfort.”
“Not again,” she said, grimacing. “Cade...”
“She doesn’t give a damn about you. Can’t you see that? My God, Bess, you’ve got enough problems without taking on Gussie for life.”
“It won’t be for life,” she began.
“It will,” he said solemnly. “She’ll never let go. She’s like a leech. She’ll suck you dry and leave you the first time some rich man dangles a diamond over her head.”
It was the truth. But she wasn’t strong like Cade. She never could say no to Gussie. How could she desert her own mother?
“You’re thirty-four,” she pointed out. “And you still live at home and take care of your own mother and both your brothers—”
“That’s different,” he returned curtly. “I’m strong enough to shoulder the responsibility.”
“Oh, of course you are,” she said softly, her eyes adoring him. “You’ve had to be. But the point I’m making is that you’ve got all that responsibility and you’ve never turned your back on your own people or refused to do for them. How can you expect me not to do for my mother?”
He stared at her quietly. “At home Gary keeps the books and Robert handles the sales. Gary’s engaged and won’t be around much longer, and Robert keeps talking about going to San Antonio to find work. I don’t know how much longer they’ll be here. But my mother takes care of a yardful of chickens and a gaggle of geese, which we use for pest control in the garden that she keeps every year. She sews and cleans and cooks. She cans and even helps out at roundup when she has to. I don’t mind providing for a woman like that.”
“I guess my mother would faint if she had to get near a horse,” Bess mused. “But we lived in a different world from yours.”
That was the wrong thing to say. It hurt him. No, he couldn’t imagine Gussie around horses, or Bess cleaning and cooking and planting a garden. His face hardened. She was meant for some rich man’s house, where everything would be done for her. A poor man was hardly her cup of tea.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” he said curtly. “When are you leaving for San Antonio?”
“Tomorrow,” Bess said sadly. “We’ve left all the details to our attorney, and Tina goes to a stable this afternoon to be boarded until they sell her.” She shrugged. “I’m not having much luck with it, I’m too softhearted.”
“Amen.” He paused just in front of her, smelling of the whole outdoors and faint cologne and smoke, smells that were familiar and exciting because they always reminded her of him. “Don’t kill yourself for Gussie.”
She looked up, her eyes soft and misty with tears she didn’t want to shed. “I’ll...miss you,” she said, and tried to smile.
“Do you think I won’t miss you?” he asked, and it was the severest test of his control he’d ever had. The mask slipped, and some of the hunger he felt for her showed in his glittering dark eyes.
She almost gasped. It was such a shock, to know that he felt even a fraction of the longing she did.
“But you don’t care about me,” she whispered. “You don’t even want me, you proved it—”
“I’m in an impossible situation here,” he interrupted gruffly. “It isn’t going to improve. You’ve got Gussie around your neck like an albatross and you have to get used to being an ordinary woman, not a debutante. Those are obstacles neither of us can get around.”
Her lips parted. The hunger was so staggering that she felt her knees wobbling under her. “What if there...were no obstacles?” she asked breathlessly.
His jaw hardened and his eyes roved over her face. “My God, don’t you know?” he asked roughly.
Her hand went out slowly toward his chest, but he caught her wrist and held it away from him. The contact was electric, his warmth penetrating her blood. “No,” he said, letting go of her, watching her blush. “It’s better not to start things when there’s no hope of finishing them.”
“I see.” She did, but it hurt all the same. Her eyes searched his hungrily. “Goodbye, Cade.”
The tears in her eyes made him feel homicidal. He could hardly bear them. “If things get too rough, let me know.”
Tears overflowed down her cheeks, soundless, all the more poignant for the lack of sound.
“Stop that,” he ground out and turned away, because he knew exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t. He was already trembling with the need to grind her body into his and kiss the breath out of her. But kissing was intoxicating and addictive. If he started that with Bess, he might not be able to stop in time. Gentlemen didn’t seduce virgins—he’d been raised to believe that, and his strict upbringing reared its head every time he looked at Bess with desire.
“I’m sorry I did that,” Bess said after a minute, wiping her eyes. “You’ve been so much kinder about all this than I expected. That’s all.”
“I don’t feel particularly kind,” he said shortly. He turned back to her. “But if you need help, all you ever have to do is call. Watch yourself when Gussie has male friends in. Lock your bedroom door if they stay overnight.”
“Mother wouldn’t...!” she exclaimed.
“Like hell your mother wouldn’t,” he said. “You’re so naive it’s unreal. You can’t see what she is.”
“Neither can you,” she stammered.
“You see what you want to,” he said wearily. “And I’m tired of arguing with you about Gussie. It gets us nowhere. Be careful that she doesn’t start shoving you at rich, eligible old men to help feather her nest.” His eyes grew darker at the thought of it, and he felt a momentary twinge of fear.
“That’s funny,” she said with a faint smile, lowering her eyes. “You don’t know how funny. Can you really see me as a femme fatale?”
“I can see you as a warm, loving woman,” he said against his will, his voice deeper and softer than she’d ever heard it. “Once you come out of that shell, men are going to want you.”
Her heart jumped. She lifted her eyes. “Even you?” she asked in a whisper, daring everything.
Careful, he told himself. Careful. He let his dark eyes wander over her face, but he didn’t smile. “Maybe,” he said noncommittally.
She laughed mirthlessly. “No, you wouldn’t want someone like me,” she said wistfully and averted her eyes from the probing look in his. “You’ll want someone who’s capable and strong, someone who can cope with ranch life and country living. I’m just a cream puff with an overbearing mother...” Tears stung her eyes.
“Honest to God, Bess, if you don’t stop that, I’m going to...” He bit down hard on his self-control. Keeping his hands off her was the hardest thing he’d ever done, and she didn’t even realize the effect she was having on him.
“Sorry,” she said. She laughed. “I’m always apologizing.”
“You don’t have much of a self-image,” he said tightly. “Time will take care of that. Losing everything was tough on you, I know, but you may find that it was the best thing that ever happened to you. Hard times shape us. They’ll shape you.”
“Make a woman of me, you mean?” she asked shyly.
He drew in a short breath. “In a sense, yes. Go to San Antonio. Find your own place in life. That independence will be good for you. You’ll marry one day, and it’s important that a woman doesn’t become only an extension of a man.”
“That doesn’t sound old-fashioned at all.”
“In some ways I’m not,” he murmured. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully on her face. “But Mother raised us in the church, even if she could never drag my father into one. The Bible looks upon some aspects of modern life as a sin.”
She nodded. “Like sleeping around.”
“Like sleeping around.” He stared down at her quietly. “I’m not a fanatic about it, but I’d like to think the woman I marry had enough respect for herself to bring her chastity to the marriage bed. It seems to me,” he mused deeply, “that this new morality is more for the man’s sake than the woman’s. The women are running all the risks, and the men are getting everything they want without the responsibilities of marriage.”
She laughed gently. “Maybe so.” She stared at the ground. “I never got to go to church, but I always thought it was so romantic to wait until I got married to be intimate with a man. Mama laughed at such an outdated notion, but my father never did. I think he approved.”
“Your father was a good man,” he replied. “I’ll miss him, too.”
She looked up at him. “You can still have the pearls, Cade,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “I’ll get by.” His eyes slid down to her mouth and stared at it until he thought his head was going to spin him to the ground. He wanted it so badly.
Bess saw that look and trembled with the need to go close to him, to offer her mouth, to experience, even if only one time in her life, the exquisite pleasure those hard, firm lips could give. She knew already that it would be everything she could want. Her lips parted as he looked at them, and the wave of hunger that swept over her almost brought her to her knees. Just one kiss, she pleaded silently. One!
He took one slow step toward her, his warmth enveloping her, the scent of him in her nostrils. She looked up, feeling his breath on her face, watching his eyes so intent on her mouth. She could see the very texture of his lips this close and she wanted them against her own.
“Please.” She heard the soft plea and hardly realized that it had come from her own lips.
His jaw tautened. “I want it just that much,” he said, biting off his words. His eyes caught hers. Tension strung between them like thunder building black on the horizon, the earth trembling as it waited for lightning to strike down against it. Bess searched Cade’s dark eyes with that same anticipation, her heart slamming against her chest. It was going to happen...!
For one long, tense second it looked as if Cade wasn’t going to be able to hold back. Then he forced himself to tear his eyes from hers, to take a step back and then another. His body protested, but for Bess’s sake and his own, he didn’t dare take the risk.
Watching him, Bess, felt her heart shaking her with its mad beat. The disappointment was almost physically painful. The way he’d been staring at her mouth had made her weak. But he’d had the strength to draw back before anything happened, because he didn’t want complications. She wished that she could knock down all those obstacles he’d talked about. Life was so short. She’d go away, and he’d forget her...
“You might write to us once in a while. Let us know how you’re doing,” he said unexpectedly.
“Would you write back?” she asked hesitantly.
He nodded. “Sure.”
Her face lit up. It wasn’t going to be the end of the world.
He slanted his hat over his brow and searched her face. “I’ve got something for you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “For me?” she asked, surprised.
“It’s not a diamond brooch, so don’t get all excited,” he muttered. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and unfastened the knotted end. Inside was a small silver ring inlaid with turquoise in the shape of a bird on its wide face.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.
“It has a history,” he said. He took her right hand and slid the ring slowly onto her third finger, cradling her slender hand in his. “Someday I’ll tell it to you. For now it’s something to remind you that life goes on in spite of our problems.”
“Are you sure you want me to have it?”
“I’m sure.” His thumb rubbed over it while his fingers tightened slowly around hers. “It isn’t worth much, but it’s as much a legacy as your Great-aunt Dorie’s pearls,” he smiled faintly. “So take care of it.”
“I’ll never take it off,” she promised. Her eyes went over it lovingly, and the expression on her face touched Cade. She was used to diamonds and pearls, but that little bit of silver seemed to touch her every bit as much as a mink coat would have touched her mother.
“You never were mercenary,” he said quietly. “Or a snob. Once you’ve gotten over your father’s death and learned how to manage your mother, you’re going to be a heartbreaker.”
She stared up at him quietly. “Be careful I don’t break yours,” she said with bravado.
Surprisingly he took her hand and put it over his heart. “I’m not sure I have one,” he said simply. “It’s been knocked around a good bit in recent years. But if you can find it, do your worst.”
She reached up her free hand slowly and touched his hard mouth and then, when he stood very still and didn’t protest, the rest of his lean, dark face.
“You won’t forget me, will you?” she asked.
Her soft hands on his face had been heaven. He’d been busy imagining them on his bare chest, his shoulders, and his mind had to be dragged back from the exquisite images it had been contemplating. He caught her hand and pressed its soft palm to his mouth roughly. “No.”
“I won’t forget you either.”
He sighed heavily, because this was harder than he’d expected. “Come on. Time to get going. I’ve got two more horses to break. I only rode over to say goodbye.”
She lingered at her horse, hoping that he might kiss her, but he didn’t. He put her up into the saddle and rested one hand on her jean-clad thigh, his eyes dark and unsmiling as he looked up at her. When he didn’t smile, that Comanche blood showed in his face, in the high cheekbones and stern expression.
“Remember what I told you about men,” he said shortly. “You can’t live like a hermit, but don’t let Gussie railroad you into anything. Just be careful about the people you trust.”
“You don’t trust anybody, do you, Cade?” she asked gently.
“I trust my family and you. That’s it.” He turned to get back onto his own mount, looking as much a part of the buckskin as the saddle on its back. He was an excellent horseman. His mastery of horses and his skill with a rope had made him a natural in the rodeo arena, but Bess still worried about him.
She stared at him hungrily, hoping for a last-minute reprieve. That he’d propose marriage. That he’d ask her to wait for him. That he’d say, “Don’t go.”
He did none of those things. He stared at her for one long moment and then he turned his horse without a word, not even a goodbye, and went back the way he’d come. She watched him until he was a pinpoint in the distance, tears streaming down her cheeks. At least, she thought, she had one sweet memory to put under her pillow at night. She touched the silver ring on her finger and kissed it softly. She didn’t really understand why Cade would give her a family heirloom when he hadn’t said anything about a commitment, but it was the most wonderful present she’d ever received. She’d never part with it. It would remind her of Cade and help her cope with the hardships ahead.
And she knew Gussie was going to be the worst hardship of all.