The Rancher Takes a Bride

  With his arms, he shifted her until he could lay her down in the swing, his body leaning over her. Her head came to rest against the arm, and the swing teetered unsteadily as his lips moved over her mouth, teasing her bottom lip, gently nibbling until she opened her mouth, reveling in the feel of his lips against hers.

  Why did this man have the power to make her feel more than anyone?

  She cared about Travis. She'd missed him these last few weeks; she'd missed his scent, his smile, the way his eyes followed her around the room. She'd missed his honesty, his trustworthiness, but most of all she'd missed his sensuality that had the ability to make her lose all rational thought.

  His hand trailed down her body, down her chest, his mouth never leaving hers while his lips continued working their magic. She squirmed beneath his touch, wanting her handsome cowboy so badly.

  Heat stronger than the midday sun fired through her as his fingers kneaded her breast. A moan slipped from her lips as desire rippled through her, causing her to twitch beneath him. She wanted to feel his lips around her nipple, feel his caresses once more.

  Her breathing was harsh as she lay beneath him in the swing. The feel of his fingers pushing aside her clothing had her arching to give him easier access. But when she moved, the swing started to teeter precariously. Her bodice was open, her breasts exposed, her arms pinned by the material of her dress. Before she could halt the swing with her foot, she felt herself catapulting through the air.

  At the last possible second, Travis twisted her body so that she fell on top of him. They hit the porch with a thud, sending the swing flying out of control, precariously close to their heads.

  "Keep your head down," Travis gasped as the swing came flying by. "Are you hurt?"

  For a moment Rose was stunned. They'd fallen out of the swing onto the hard surface of the porch, but Travis had taken the brunt of the fall. She had landed on hard muscles that had softened the blow, cushioned in the safety of his arms.

  A giggle surfaced. How totally ridiculous they must look, half lying in a swing, pushing aside clothing only to come tumbling out while in the midst of a passionate kiss.

  Rose giggled out loud, trying to hold it in, knowing she should ask about Travis, fearful she had crushed him during the fall.

  Her exhaustion had colored her perspective of the world, making everything appear funny. She would have laughed at anything, at this point.

  "Are you all right?" She giggled.

  He was silent. "Yes. I'm fine. My pride is slightly bruised, but I'm not harmed."

  She laughed, and soon he was laughing with her. The sound was intoxicating to her ears. "We must look very silly, lying here on the porch, the swing going back and forth over us in the dark.'' She paused. "I guess you've never tried this with anyone else."

  He rolled her off him to his side and positioned himself facing her. "No, you're the first I've fallen out of the swing with."

  She smiled. "You need to perfect that maneuver if you plan on using it again," she whispered in the dark.

  He reached out and smoothed away a curl that had fallen around her face. She swallowed, trying to calm her erratic pulse. A couple of minutes longer would have found them with their clothing shoved to the side, their bodies joined together. But the fall from the swing had cooled their ardor somewhat, though not totally.

  And Rose wondered if it would always be this way between them.

  "I ... I really do need to go in. Rehearsals start at ten in the morning and will go late tomorrow. I need to get some rest."

  Travis ignored her remark, his hand tracing small patterns on her back. His fingers reached out, touched her chin, and gently turned her toward him. His lips brushed against hers in an exploratory kiss that held so many promises and unspoken desires. He gently sucked on her bottom lip, teasing the edges with his tongue.

  Her breathing grew harsh and she put her hands between them and gently pushed, breaking the kiss.

  "I really must go to bed."

  She sat up and brushed aside the curls that had come loose with her fall. She glanced down at Travis, who was still lying on the porch. "Thanks for apologizing. I didn't understand and thought that maybe I had done something wrong that morning at the pond."

  He reached up and touched her cheek. "You did nothing wrong. It was me. I . . . didn't know what to say. So I ran. Sometimes I feel like I'm still running."

  ***

  Three nights later, Rose stood behind the makeshift curtain and looked out at the growing crowd. It was opening night, and the benches were rapidly filling up with people. Two rows of Burnetts sat close to the stage, and Rose couldn't help but feel nervous. Not only was this her first public performance, but Travis's entire family for miles around had come to show their support.

  While it was a nice gesture, it didn't help her jitters, and she had a bad case of nerves. Sometimes she felt as though she was going to throw up, and other times she felt like laughing.

  Everyone was ready backstage and wandered around with a half-dazed look on their faces. Rose could only imagine that they also suffered from stage fright. She watched a young man walking around the scaffold, lighting the lanterns. The audience was almost seated, and soon the curtain would open.

  Rose glanced out the curtain one last time and spotted Travis and his family sitting on the fourth row. His shirt was fresh, and his hair was combed so perfectly that she wanted to run her hands through it and muss it up. Handsome was not a strong enough word to describe the virile cowboy.

  She hadn't seen much of him since that night out on the swing, but somehow she felt a sense of calmness about their situation and even a sense of hope that he would soon realize she could never steal his mother's ring.

  After the play was finished, she would be moving on, and somehow the thought of leaving Travis behind saddened her. He had disrupted her life, ended her business as Desirée, Voice of the Dead, taken her virginity, turned her into a woman—and somehow touched her heart. She wouldn't call it love, but something about Travis called out to her with longing.

  For the first time in her life, she was doing what she wanted, what she'd always dreamed, and it left her miserable.

  She shut the curtain and turned back to her fellow actors and actresses. Maybe it was just this play, she told herself. Maybe the situation with Travis clouded her perspective.

  "Everyone to their places," yelled the director.

  Rose hurried behind the stage to an area where the actors could watch before they appeared on stage.

  As the curtain went up, Rose stood and viewed the action of the play, coming in whenever she received her cue.

  After her first time out in front of the audience, she forgot her nerves and became engrossed in the tale. The first and second acts passed very quickly, with very few mistakes by the actors, and Rose was beginning to think opening night was turning out to be a success.

  Act Four began. Rose knew the end was at hand and was sorry that her first performance was almost complete. Somehow the hard work, the sacrifice, for this short time seemed too high a price.

  She walked out on stage and knelt in front of Baptista. "Pardon, dear father. "

  "How hast thou offended ?—Where is Lucentio?"

  "Here's Lucentio, Right son unto the right Vincentio; That hath by marriage made thy daughter mine, While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne.

  "Here's packing, with a witness, to deceive us all!"

  Gremio responded.

  "Where is that damned villain, Tranio, That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter so?" asked Vincendo.

  "Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?"Baptista asked.

  "Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio."

  A voice yelled from the back of the crowd. "I want to be Lucentio. As long as I can have one of those women."

  Rose ignored the man, and the actor portraying Lucentio opened his mouth to say his lines, when the man yelled again.

  "Desirée, you French whore, I'll marry you," the drunken cowboy yell
ed out.

  Rose felt her heart sink. She tried to continue her lines, but a firecracker came flying up on stage, sending everyone scrambling to get out of the way. The lead actress screamed, and the other actors shrank back against the back curtain of the makeshift stage as loud pops and smoke filled the stage.

  Rose caught a glimpse of movement in the crowd. She stared in disbelief as she watched Travis jumping over benches in an effort to get to the heckler. She whirled around just in time to see Travis throw the first punch. He grabbed the man by the shirt collar and yanked him up, his face inches from the unknown cowboy. Tucker was there beside his brother, trying to pull Travis's hands off of the man's shirt.

  It was all over in just a matter of moments, but the crowd had grown restless and people were shrinking away from the fight and even slipping out the back of the tent.

  Travis finally released the man, and Tucker hauled the drunk out of the tent, his hands wrapped firmly around the man. It was then that Rose saw the blood trickling down Travis's face. Her heart plummeted to her feet. He was hurt. He was bleeding, and it was all her fault.

  He took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and took his seat next to the rest of the Burnetts.

  Rose shuddered. What if someone had been seriously hurt?

  The actors resumed the play, grateful it was the last act. When it was over, the remaining audience clapped and cheered for the group, and Rose was exhilarated by their ovation. The hard work, the sacrifice had been worth it after all, for the applause, the congratulations, and the cheers. She'd completed her first public performance, and she knew she would never forget the excitement, the suspense—and the fight.

  After their final bow, she hurried from backstage and ran to find Travis. The crowd was trickling out of the tented arena when she found him and the other Burnetts waiting for her.

  Eugenia grabbed her and gave her a big hug. "You were fabulous! I was so proud of you and told everyone around us who you were."

  "Thanks," she said, sheepishly gazing at Travis, his face a bloodied mess. "If you look this bad, he must look awful."

  "Yeah, he was a mess. I'm sorry about that drunken cowboy spoiling your performance," he said quietly. "I tried to shut him up."

  "I see that," she said, reaching out and touching his cheek tenderly. "I guess Tucker took him away to jail?"

  "Yes. Can you believe he threatened me! My own brother said if I didn't quit hitting that boozer, he was going to haul me in with him."

  Rose smiled. "A Burnett brother threatening another?"

  Travis tried to grin, but his busted lip cracked, and he put his hand up to his mouth.

  "Let's get you home, so we can clean you up. That lip looks bad, and so does your eye," Rose said tenderly.

  He took her arm as they walked toward the door and glanced down at her. "I thought you did a real good job tonight. I haven't been to many performances, and none by Mr. Shakespeare."

  She smiled. "So you think it was worth me fighting you to come into town over?"

  He scowled. "We wouldn't have had that problem if you would just return the ring. You're free to go as soon as I get my mother's wedding band back. You know that."

  Rose stopped just outside the tent and stared up at him, disappointment almost overwhelming her. She had foolishly believed they were making progress, when in fact they were no closer to resolving this issue than they were when she arrived. He didn't believe her; he just didn't voice his disbelief quite as strongly as before."

  "I can't return a ring I don't have."

  His brown eyes gazed at her with as much frustration as she felt. "Is this another performance?"

  She dropped his arm and walked on ahead. "Believe what you want, cowboy. Nothing I say is going to change your mind."

  He hurried to catch up with her and took her by the arm and whirled her around to face him. "Look ... you were good tonight. I want you to know I think you did a great job."

  She stared up into his brown eyes. She could get lost in their mesmerizing depths, but she resisted. His accusations stung. "What is going to become of me, Travis? You don't want to let me go, but I can't stay here forever, and I don't have that ring."

  "I don't know. Right now I can't think about you leaving. Not until I find out the truth about the ring." He turned her toward the wagon and started walking, refusing to look at her. "Let's go home."

  Chapter Sixteen

  The trip home was lively and fun, with Eugenia keeping the conversation going between Isaiah and Rose, while Travis drove the team of horses and brooded on the evening's events. Rose had been good, much better than he'd expected, and that frightened him. Somehow he'd hoped she would turn out to be a terrible actress, which would result in her being forced to stay in Fort Worth, with no place else to go.

  It didn't make sense, but then, nothing about his feelings for Rose had ever been logical. No matter what the little con artist had done, he felt drawn to her. Even though his mind pointed out her flaws, some deeper emotion overruled his reasoning.

  Just like tonight.

  When the drunk had yelled out Rose's name, he'd wanted to grab the inebriated man by the throat and slam him against the ground. The calming touch of his brother had been his last grasp of sanity, before he would have seriously harmed the man.

  It made no sense. Rose was just a woman, a damn good-looking woman, but nothing to go crazy over. She tantalized and tempted him, and made him look at things from a completely different viewpoint. She was an enigma, and he wanted her again so badly, he could almost feel her velvety skin beneath his fingers, smell the scent of lilacs in her hair, and taste the sweetness of her lips.

  He sighed. He couldn't have her. In fact, the time was coming when he could no longer detain her. How much longer could he restrain her, when he had no evidence she'd stolen his mother's ring? How soon before he was forced to let her go and watch her walk out of his life forever?

  His mind rebelled, saying it shouldn't matter. She meant nothing to him, and there were plenty of other women around more than willing to take her place. But some deeper inner voice warned him of impending doom. It didn't matter what his head was telling him, he didn't want her to leave. He didn't want to watch her go.

  And after tonight, he knew she would be departing soon. He'd known as soon as he saw how accomplished she'd become. He'd known it and tried to remind her of the ring, tried to show her he still thought she had stolen the band.

  All he'd done was make an ass of himself, first with the drunk and later with Rose. All in all, he'd been the one inwardly rebelling all night against the need to accept that Rose would soon sprout wings and fly out of his life forever. And he was doing a lousy job of accepting her new standing.

  Travis rounded the last hill before the ranch, suddenly feeling eager to get home. His eyes ached from strain, his brow felt bruised, and his jaw was sore from the drunk's punch. Tonight Rose received the applause, while all he'd acquired were a few well-placed jabs.

  As they pulled up in front of the ranch house, he helped his mother out of the buckboard and then Rose. He put his hands around her waist, and she tensed as he lifted her out of the wagon. She felt so small, so fragile, yet he knew from past experience that she was tough.

  Her feet touched the ground, and his hands lingered, reluctant to let her go. The rough texture of her dress was a contrast to the warm flesh he knew lay below the clothing. She glanced up at him, her eyes questioning, but not warm. A coldness seemed to radiate from her.

  She reached out her fingertips, lightly grazing his swollen right eye. "Does it hurt?"

  He shrugged, instantly aware of her touch. "Just a little bit."

  "I'll fix some tea and then doctor that eye," she said briskly.

  "Thanks," he said and turned away. Obviously, she was still angry at his comments about the ring.

  He unhitched the horses from the wagon and led them away to the makeshift barn. Hurriedly he removed the bridle from the animals, combed and fed them. This was usually
a chore he enjoyed, but tonight he wanted to get inside. Let Rose doctor his swollen flesh, so he could enjoy her ministrations and revel in her touch while she was still around to do it.

  When the last horse had been curried, he rushed to the house and up the wooden steps. Opening the back door, he stepped into the kitchen, glancing around the small room. She stood with her back to him, gathering the materials she would need. Her back was rigid, and she didn't turn to greet him.

  He stepped into the room and asked, "Where's Mother?"

  "She said to tell you good night. She's tired and has gone off to bed," Rose said. She turned around and glanced at him.

  Her emerald eyes sparkled in the light of the lantern, touching him like the strike of a match. The burn was quick and instantaneous.

  "Sit down and let me tend to your injuries," she said, carrying her supplies to the table.

  He pulled a chair out, away from the dining table, and turned it sideways so he could watch her. She walked to where he sat and methodically laid down the cloth strips she'd gathered. Moving between his legs, her cheeks flushed, and he almost groaned when she leaned over him, her breasts right at eye level. The urge to reach out, pull her into his arms, end stroke her almost overpowered him.

  She dipped the rag into what looked like water and laid it against the open wound. Travis felt as if tongues of liquid fire were consuming his face. The pain almost took his breath away.

  "Ow! What's on that rag?" he asked, pushing her hand away from the stinging cut.

  "Oh, come on. It can't be that bad," she said with a false smile.

  "What's in there?" he asked, pointing to the bowl.

  "I'm trying to sterilize the wound. It's just a mixture of alcohol and water to make sure no infection sets in," she said innocently.

  He glared at her, but her eyes flashed defiantly while her face held a false smile. She was definitely still peeved at him over his remark earlier in the evening. How could he explain to her that he was confused? How could he make her understand he didn't know what he thought about her stealing the ring anymore?

  Travis closed his eyes and leaned back, trying not to grimace as her hands wiped his battered face. He hadn't meant to get involved in a fight tonight. He hadn't wanted to make a spectacle of himself in front of the whole town with his family watching, but he couldn't let that pervert get away with yelling obscenities at Rose. But then, he hadn't meant to upset her either when they'd gotten into their almost daily argument regarding the missing wedding band.