Authors: Sharon Sala
Jesse closed her
eyes, let imagination turn her in his arms, taste the sun-browned flavor of his
muscular chest and work her way upwards with tiny kisses and nips until she
reached the chiseled perfection of his mouth and welcomed King and the day
together. The thought was intoxicating. She knew she had to move before the
thought became deed.
Carefully, she
lifted away the lightweight sheet covering them and slid her fingers gently
over King's hand, reluctantly removing herself from his grasp. Allowing herself
just one small luxury, she very gently brushed her lips across the hand that
had held her safely through the night. Then she quietly scooted to the side of
the huge bed and slipped from King's room without looking back.
He'd been awake
since the moment her fingers touched his hand. He'd started to speak, and then
something made him remain silent. An instinct
...
or curiosity
...
he didn't know which. But he hadn't moved. Nothing could have prepared him for
the jolt that shot through him as Jesse's lips brushed across his fingers.
Reflex made him clutch a handful of the bedsheet. He gritted his teeth to keep
from calling her name—calling her back to his bed as she walked out the door.
"What in
hell is happening to me?" King muttered aloud as he watched his body betray
him.
Rolling over with
a painful groan, he pressed his aching body into the unyielding mattress and
knew it wasn't what he wanted under him. He also knew nothing was going to
make the ache go away. He suspected it was only going to get worse.
Unwilling to
face, or even investigate, his new feelings for Jesse, he chose his usual way
of dealing with an out-of-control situation. He was going to ignore it. He
crawled out of bed and headed for the shower.
"Just
coffee," King growled in his husky rasp. "Not hungry."
Maggie's eyebrows
shot skyward as she heard King speaking what she called "McCandless
shorthand." It was a strange family trait that surfaced in times of stress
or anger. Andrew . . . King . . . even
not well in King's world. She also suspected Jesse had something to do with his
cranky behavior.
"Good
morning to you, too," Maggie said wryly. "Did someone get up on the
wrong side of the bed?"
"Been a lot
better off if I'd never gotten in the damn thing," King muttered into his
coffee cup. Then he quickly swallowed a curse with the fiery gulp of steamy
brew.
"It's
hot," Maggie warned too late, and turned away so King would not see her
smile.
"I'll be out
most of the day," King said, and added as he started out the door,
"Keep an eye on Jesse. I think she'll be fine . . . but . . ."he
cautioned, remembering her flashback episode at the hospital. "If you
need me, just find Turner. He'll know where I am."
"You'll miss
Maggie reminded him. "He said he'd be over today."
"Hell!"
King muttered, and then mentally rearranged his earlier plans. He had every
intention of being present when his uncle arrived. Something was going on
between him and Jesse and he wanted to see for himself.
"I'll be in
at noon," he said, leaning over to kiss Maggie's cheek, "in a better
mood."
"Humpf,"
she replied, and watched him walk toward the horse barns, his long legs quickly
covering the distance. Then he disappeared into the dark, cool depths of the
airy building.
FIVE
Jesse mentioned
virtually nothing of the preceding night's events, nor did she mention anything
of the aftermath. She had been hiding her feelings for King for so long that it
was second nature to be noncommittal.
She and Maggie
worked side by side as they went about the daily chore of putting the huge,
rambling ranch house to rights. They chattered idly, visiting about nothing in
particular, yet it was obvious that the daily routine was becoming almost more
than Maggie could handle alone. Jesse was certain King didn't realize the
increasing difficulties Maggie faced daily. Each passing year added problems,
none of which she could control. There were aching joints, a slower stride, and
small moments of weariness that she could not hide, even from herself.
Jesse knew that
she probably wouldn't have noticed the differences in Maggie if she hadn't been
gone for such a long time. Coming back home now was like seeing everything and
everyone for the first time.
"I might have
known," Maggie said with a sigh, as she looked out the living room window
she had just dusted. "Here comes
Jesse looked
about wildly, uncertain whether to follow Maggie to the kitchen and prolong
the moment when she'd have to face
or stay and get it over with. She opted for the latter.
There was no time
to change into something less revealing than the blue, terrycloth shorts and
shirt she was wearing. It had been too hot to wear much else after the struggle
she'd had with Maggie's vacuum cleaner. Jesse had insisted she was perfectly
capable of using it. But the constant pull and push of the handle and the
weight of the machine itself had almost been too much for her still tender
hands.
Oh, well,
she sighed, /
could be wearing
a nun's habit and
shoes.
So, Jesse waited,
defenseless to postpone the inevitable confrontation. She gritted her teeth as
she heard him bounding up the front steps of the verandah, whistling some
unrecognizable tune a bit off-key.
"Something
smells wonderful," he shouted as he entered the house, paused in front of
the mirror on the hall tree and smoothed his hand over his perfectly groomed
hair.
"
as she came into the hallway holding out her hand in greeting. "It's been
a while, hasn't it?'-'
The forced gaiety
and exuberance fell from his demeanor like a deflated balloon. He'd known Jesse
was here. He just hadn't expected her to initiate the meeting. He couldn't put
into words what he was feeling. But it was something between anger and shame.
He kept
remembering the last time he'd seen her. And after what had happened recently,
he wasn't certain how to behave. Her outstretched hand couldn't be ignored. He
slipped back into his bravado and sandwiched her offering of greeting between
his hands in a none too gentle grasp. Instantly he remembered her injuries, but
not soon enough to prevent her gasp of pain.
"Jesse,
dear," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think. Here, let me
look."
"No,"
Jesse argued. "It's all right," and tried to pull her hand away.
She struggled
unsuccessfully as
hide the shudder that ran through his big frame as he gazed fully at the
healing evidence of her ordeal.
"Your
hands!" he whispered, and pulled them upwards to his lips. "Dear God!
Your hands," he muttered again. "Said you weren't hurt. Lied . . .
," he said brokenly, "lied."
"
Jesse struggled, and finally succeeded in pulling her hands away from his
mouth. He was acting strangely. And his words made no sense.
"Lunch is
about ready," she announced, and tried not to run toward Maggie and the
kitchen area where she heard her working out obvious aggression on the pots and
pans. "And," she added, unnecessarily, "King will be here
soon."
It seemed that
speaking his name would give her some measure of insurance against
that she didn't want to deal with, especially now.
His feet were moving. He must be saying all the right things. But he couldn't
for the life of him remember what he'd said. Seeing Jesse had brought back all too
vividly the last time they'd been together. It was not a memory he liked to
recall.
Jesse was
experiencing a similar jolt of memory and wished, all too fervently, that this
day would soon be over.
"So, Jesse's
moving to
barely controlling his glee at the news. Maybe, if he got her away from this
damn ranch and his perfect nephew, he'd have a chance with her.
too clearly, the way Jesse looked at King. He'd also been aware, long before
the others at the ranch, that Jesse LeBeau was a very beautiful, very
desirable woman. And, since turning twenty-one, she was also a very well-to-do
woman. All of the above were attributes Duncan McCandless felt absolutely
necessary in a wife. He scoffed at working a nine-to-five job. He shouldn't
have to. After all, he
was
a McCandless.
His periodic
appearances at the oil company that Jesse's father, Michael, and his brother,
Andrew, had founded, were none too well received. He was tolerated solely
because he was a McCandless. He'd inherited a goodly portion of the company
stock at Andrew's death. But the dividends were not enough to keep
which he'd accustomed himself. He was growing weary of trying to devise ways in
which to make a quick buck. As far as he was concerned, Jesse was the answer
to his prayers. All he had to do was court her and marry the rest of the money
he felt was, by all rights, his anyway.
nephew. After all, if she liked one man's looks, another so much alike should
suffice. And King had his head in the clouds as far as Jesse LeBeau was
concerned. His mind was on everything but romance.
Unfortunately for
saw way beyond the surface of both McCandless men. He would have never wasted
his time and money had he known how repulsed Jesse actually was by all his
posturing.
She'd only been
in
been carefully orchestrated and the "chance" meeting between him and
Jesse was a success.
Leaving the
Double M had been difficult for Jesse. Then, when King had not called or
written other than to satisfy himself that she'd arrived and settled in safely,
she'd been devastated. She didn't realize King was simply giving her the space
he thought she desired. Her decision to leave had been a shock. King and Maggie
had finally come to the conclusion that she just wanted to be on her own for a
while, and had made every effort not to intrude. Their lack of communication
fell right in with
plans. His casual offer of dinner had been eagerly accepted. It began his
forays into the life of Jesse LeBeau.
The
"chance" meeting escalated into a weekly visit that he purposely let
seem entirely her decision. Jesse was lonely, and for a short while, was swayed
by
charm and likeness to the man she loved.
But the weeks
grew into months and King did not come. Jesse grew tired of pretending to
herself that anything was going to change. All the while,
could only be called gentlemanly. He was certain that it, would only be a
matter of months before she'd capitulate and all his plans would come to
fruition.
But instead of
falling in with
ideas, Jesse began to withdraw more and more. Finally even
when he made his mistake. Although she never returned the casual hug and kiss
he gave her at the end of each visit, she didn't refuse them either.
signs, not the signs of annoyance that Jesse struggled to disguise.
But
financial problems and Jesse's obvious withdrawal escalated his carefully laid
scheme. He'd refused her attempt to cancel their dinner engagement at one of
restaurants after severe weather warnings. Instead, they'd arrived at the proposed
time while the pouring rain slowly turned into icy pellets.
glances outside the restaurant window until even he began to see the stupidity
of staying longer. However, he had taken the bad turn in the weather as an
opportunity he wasn't going to pass up.