Maggie Shayne - Badland's Bad Boy Page 8

  She felt so guilty she couldn't look him in the eye. And why, for God's sake? It wasn't as if there was anything between them. Not really.

  Then why did it feel as if she'd betrayed him?

  "Are you okay?" he asked, getting up, coming closer. "Did something happen?"

  "No!" She bit her lip, realizing how defensive she sounded. "I'm just … jumpy. That's all. I shouldn't go walking off by myself when I'm so keyed up. I jump out of my skin every time a rabbit scampers by."

  He frowned. "But you're okay," he asked. "You didn't see that Wolf Shadow character again, or anything."

  "No, of course not." She averted her eyes as she said it.

  "Okay," he said. And something in his tone made her head come up slowly.

  He was quiet for a moment, searching her face. Then he averted his. "If you did see him, Taylor, and you're not telling me—for whatever reason—" He gave his head a shake.

  Did he know? Had he … oh, God, had he wandered down to the water hole and seen…?

  She turned her back to him abruptly, pressing her fingers to her lips.

  "Look, I'm not prying," he said softly. "It's just that if I'm going to find out what's behind all this, Doc, you're going to have to be honest with me. If you don't trust me enough to tell me everything, then I might as well give up the investigation and—"

  "I do trust you," she said, interrupting him, so guilt ridden she could barely stand it. And for no good reason. She schooled her features to what she hoped was a semblance of calm, and faced him again. "Really. It's myself I'm having trouble with." When he frowned and searched her face, she opened her mouth to speak, only to stop when movement outside caught her attention. She turned to see Scourge and Kelly outside, fixing their morning meals, pouring more coffee. "And you're right, something did happen this morning."

  "But you don't want to tell me about it," he said slowly.

  She lifted her chin, swallowed hard. "You came out here to look into this when you had plenty of better things to do. The least I can do is tell you what you need to know to do it right."

  "So…?"

  She closed her eyes. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's dishonesty."

  "Then you're going to tell me." He looked down, and something crossed his face. Looked as if he felt badly about something.

  "I don't want to talk about this here," she said. "Can we go some where … private?"

  "Sure," he said. "All right, Doc. Okay. C'mon, I know a place."

  What devil was driving him to ask her about what happened this morning? He must be totally insane.

  And why the hell was it he felt compelled to take her where he was taking her?

  He didn't know. He didn't know much of anything anymore. She was driving him so crazy he wasn't sure what he wanted from one minute to the next.

  Wes drove the little khaki-colored Jeep because Taylor asked him to. He opened the door, got in and adjusted the seat. She sent him a frown. "What?" he asked.

  She shook her head and faced front.

  He started it up and pulled out, heading over the rough terrain that skirted the woods, and around them until he emerged onto the dirt trail that passed for a road. And when he pulled onto it, he reached up to adjust the mirror.

  She swung her head toward him, making an irritated sound, but then bit her lip and looked away.

  Wes tilted his head to one side, and his troubled mind eased just a bit. Or he was distracted from it at least. Because he'd made another discovery about Taylor McCoy.

  "You don't usually let anyone drive this baby but you, do you, Doc?"

  She shrugged, staring through the windshield, but not seeing anything, he thought. Not the Texas sage or the gradual leveling off of landscape, that buzzard circling some roadkill up ahead or the increasing greenery they were heading into.

  "I think I'll change your radio station now."

  She blinked and looked at him. Gave her head a shake. "Sorry. I was somewhere else."

  "Where?"

  She closed her eyes, lowered her chin an inch or two. Was that guilt she was feeling?

  Wes squirmed inwardly. He was the one who ought to feel guilty, first for trying to scare her, then for losing his sanity out there in the woods with her. And then for asking her to tell him what had happened when he knew exactly what had happened. He supposed it was some sick, morbid curiosity on his part. He wanted to know how she felt about damned near making it with him.

  No. Scratch that. With Wolf Shadow. Not him.

  And he wasn't even sure what he was hoping to hear. Would he be gloating or green-eyed if she confessed to having relished every sizzling second in his arms? In his arms.

  Sighing, he shifted down a gear and took a turn onto an even less traveled dirt road, heading up a slight incline. Taylor glanced up at him, her eyes exotic and wide and curious. The guilt or whatever she'd been feeling, momentarily gone. "Where are we going?"

  Good. A change of subject. He was sick of thinking about his alter ego. "It's just ahead," he told her. And then he braced himself for her reaction when the Jeep bounded over the crest of the hill and the level ground rolled out like a lush green carpet for as far as the eye could see. When he'd brought his baby sister up here to see it, long before he'd ever decided to buy the place, she'd focused in on the dilapidated barn, listing slightly to one side, boards gray with age, roof flapping in the slightest breeze. And the house, with the shutters hanging crookedly like broken glasses on filmy, myopic eyes. The railing, clinging to the porch in places, sagging in others, sections missing. The peeling flecks of paint where there was any paint at all.

  Jessi's reaction had been a grimace. As if she'd eaten some bad meat.

  He pulled the Jeep to a stop in what had once been a driveway and now was bits of hard-pack in between patches of weeds. And then he turned to see what Taylor thought.

  Her back was toward him, though. She was opening the door and getting out. And as bothered as she'd been before about their near copulation in the woods, she seemed to have forgotten all about it now. He got out, too, and walked around to join her, eagerly searching her face.

  She wasn't looking at the barn or the house. She was looking beyond them, at the gently rolling fields, and beyond that to where the creek meandered lazily, a blue coil bisecting the green, glittering like diamonds in the Texas sunshine.

  She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a whisper of breath. And then she blinked. "I don't think … I don't think I've ever seen anything this beautiful in my life, Wes."

  He smiled so hard his face hurt. "You're kidding."

  "No." She turned to face him. "How much land is attached to this place?"

  "Five hundred acres." He waved an arm to encompass the area. "As far as you can see. It's nowhere near as big as the Texas Brand, but—"

  She trotted forward without warning, heading up the rickety steps to the porch, and then pushed the door, testing it, pushing it some more. It squealed in protest, but she was stepping inside by the time Wes caught up with her. Rapping the walls with a fist. Running a hand along the time-worn, dirt-stained woodwork.

  "Look at this workmanship," she said. "And it could be restored, I think. There's no sign of rot."

  "I thought the same thing." He couldn't believe her face. It glowed. Her eyes lit and sparkled, and she couldn't seem to stop smiling.

  "The foundation…" she began.

  "Solid as a rock."

  "And the roof?"

  "Needs replacing. Wiring, too. Plumbing's in great shape, though, and the house is structurally sound. Most of the fixing up will be cosmetic."

  She'd stepped into the large front room, and was staring up at cathedral ceilings with chipping plaster, the same awestruck look on her face he imagined most people got when looking at the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. But she paused to bring her head level when he spoke. "Will be? Have you bought this place, then?" Her voice echoed in the emptiness.

  "Not yet. But I've put in a bid on it."


  "Well, if I had the money, Wes, I think I would, too."

  "Like it that much?"

  She moved her gaze from one end of the room to the other, then walked slowly through to the wide bay window in the back, chipped casing and all, and stared through at the view. "If I found a place like this," she said softly, leaning forward, elbows on the sill, "I don't think I'd ever want to leave."

  And he thought, Maybe I should give it to her, then. But wait a minute. He wanted her to leave.

  Didn't he?

  "I'd stay here always. Fix it up, a little at a time. Barn first, though. The house could wait." She pushed herself away from the windowsill and turned to head back outside. Wes trailed along like a lovesick pup as she stepped lightly down the porch steps and turned to inspect the barn. "Is it in pretty good shape, as well?"

  "Water and power were never put in," Wes said. "We'd have to—" He stopped short, and his jaw dropped. He blinked. Lord have mercy, what had he just said? Had he just said we?

  "What?" she asked, turning, looking as if she hadn't noticed.

  He licked his lips. "I'll have to wire it from scratch and run a water line to it. You can see the roof is bad. But the framework is sound. Just needs work."

  "That would be what I'd do first," she said. "Fix up the barn."

  He moved up beside her. "That's exactly what I plan to do," he told her, a little amazed she'd agree. "My sister said I was nuts. That the house is more important." They walked side by side as they talked, slowly, arms swinging.

  "Depends on who you ask. If it were me, the barn would be the first priority. Because I'd fill it just as soon as I could."

  Wes stopped, crossed his arms on the top of a wobbly fence post. "And what would you fill it with, Doc?"

  She smiled, and he thought she had the prettiest smile he'd ever seen in his life. "You'll bring in cattle, no doubt. Beefers like your family raises. But not me. I'd raise horses."

  His arm slipped, and he almost fell forward. Caught himself just in time to keep from slamming his chin on that post. "H-horses?"

  "Appaloosas," she told him.

  And he just stood there gaping.

  Taylor leaned back against another fence post, this one looking a little more solid. Her hair was loose today for some reason, and the breeze up here pushed it around a bit, so it seemed alive. "I have a mare, you know. Jasper. Oh, and she is the finest mare you've ever seen in your life."

  She looked at him, but since he'd lost the ability to speak, he kept quiet. Just nodded at her to go on.

  "I have to board her, of course. I don't even have a permanent home. I don't get to see her nearly as often as I'd like to. But someday…"

  "S-someday?" he prompted, glad he'd regained the talent for uttering one-word sentences, at least.

  "Ever since I was a little girl, I've wanted a big place. Like this one. Maybe not quite this big. Just big enough for Jasper and me." She looked around, shaking her head. "Now that I've seen this, though, I think I'd expand on that dream a little. Heck, with a spread this big, I could raise them."

  He tried to speak, cleared his throat, tried again. "You'd want to raise Appaloosas?"

  She smiled at him, nodding hard. "Silly, isn't it? I'm an archaeology teacher without tenure anywhere, and I'm still dreaming those little-girl dreams." She shrugged and sighed deeply, gazing off into the distance. And the dream in her eyes was so real he could see it there. What startled him most was that he was seeing his own dream there, as well. "But you know, I've spent a lot of time waiting to find something better, and I haven't. Maybe I knew more about who I was as a little girl than I've managed to figure out since."

  "You ever have her bred?" She brought her gaze back to him, and he added, "The mare?"

  "Oh. No, not yet. I will someday, when I have a place of my own and room for a colt. But you know, the stallion would have to be something special."

  "I … um … I have one."

  Her brows came together. "A stallion?"

  He only nodded.

  "An Appaloosa?"

  Another nod. My, but his conversational skills were honed to a razor edge today! "Actually that's what I want this place for. That's why I bought him. He's going to be the beginning of my herd."

  Her lips parting slightly, she shook her head. "I can't believe this." But the look of wonder died, and one of confusion replaced it. "It's almost scary, isn't it?"

  "What, how many things we have in common?" He lowered his head. "Freaking terrifying."

  She came closer, laying one hand on his chest, so lightly it felt like a nervous little bird, ready to take flight at the slightest hint of danger. Swallowing hard, Wes lifted his own hand to lay atop it. And then he met her eyes and thought she looked more scared now than she had when he'd been trying to frighten her.

  "I … I don't think it means anything," she said, as if trying to convince herself. "It's just chemistry. And coincidence. It doesn't mean anything."

  "What if it does?"

  She drew a breath, lifted her chin higher. "I came out here to tell you about this morning."

  Guilt hit him hard in the belly. He dropped his gaze, shook his head. "No, Taylor, look, you don't have to—"

  "He kissed me." She blurted it. And then she pulled her hand away and turned her back to him. "He more than kissed me. And I kissed him back."

  "Taylor, it doesn't—"

  "Yeah, it does," she said. "Or … I thought it did at the time." Facing him again, looking like a criminal facing the jury, she lifted her chin. "I don't know what's come over me lately, Wes. I don't act that way. I've never acted that way. And the only time I've even come close to feeling that kind of … thing … has been with you. So I thought it was just my body telling me it had been too long and it was time and it didn't matter who…" She closed her eyes, gave her head a shake.

  "And what do you think now?" he asked her.

  "I don't know." She blinked up at him. "When I'm with you I think … maybe … it's something more. But it's something I don't want. Something I've never wanted."

  "Like you thought you never wanted to know about your people, Taylor? Your past?"

  She lowered her head quickly. "Maybe."

  Her hair fell over her face like a curtain, and impulsively Wes brushed it away. "Would it help to know I never thought I wanted it, either?"

  "I'm afraid of this," she said softly.

  "I'm terrified of this," he told her, and it was the truth.

  "I thought when I told you … about Wolf Shadow, about this morning, you'd…"

  He felt like an assassin. Like a liar. Like a fool. "It's okay." He lifted his hand to touch her cheek. If he'd blown his chances with this woman because of all that Wolf Shadow nonsense, he would never forgive himself. Ever. "Let's forget it happened, Taylor. Let's start over, right here, today."

  Her smile was tremulous when she faced him again. "At least it's out in the open. Whatever this might be…" She sighed, shrugged. "If it starts with honesty, maybe it will be all right."

  Honesty.

  How many times a day did she use that word in a sentence, anyway? It was important to her. Vital, he sensed that. Then he went warm inside, because she leaned up, and she kissed him softly on the mouth.

  A kiss he deserved less than any man on the planet. Except maybe Wolf Shadow.

  "Wes?"

  He opened his eyes, met her wary, uncertain gaze.

  "Will you take me to the Texas Brand? I'd like to meet your horse."

  "You might have to put up with meeting the rest of my family while you're at it," he said.

  "I think I can stand that."

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders, and turning, walked with her back to the Jeep. It was an odd feeling, this thing. This new thing where he could put his arm around a woman's shoulders as casually as this. Or hold her hand. Or lean down and kiss her cheek. This … Lord, this was turning into a relationship. And Taylor had told him, up front, that she didn't do relationships. And until now, he'd prett
y much felt the same on that score.

  But he was worried. Scared out of his mind, really. Because he liked this thing, and he wanted this thing. But if his secret identity came out … it would be over. He'd lose her before he'd ever really had her.

  It was amazing how much the thought of that hurt.

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  « ^ »

  They had to head back to the site first. Taylor said she needed to put in several hours at work on the dig before she could leave. Her time was limited. That reminder jabbed at Wes's gut. Things were changing. Everything was changing for him.

  By the time they headed to the Texas Brand, it was getting toward noon. Taylor was too conscientious to take a break before lunch hour, even though she wasn't punching a time clock and Wes was pretty sure the kids could have handled the morning on their own.

  It would be just like that family of his to invite her to stay to lunch. And he was real nervous about that. He didn't want his siblings needling him about past mistakes or his infamous temper, or telling her stories that would curl her hair. His past was a sore subject, and he wasn't sure enough of Taylor yet. Hell, the whole town had pretty much turned against him after the robbery. Even when the conviction was overturned, Wes suspected most folks hadn't changed their opinion of him. And he didn't want Taylor to judge him the way the others had. Couldn't bear the idea that she might change her mind about him, once she knew the truth.

  They took his Bronco this time, and Wes climbed into the passenger side before she could beat him to it. She paused beside the door and looked down at him, her long straight hair hanging through the open window. He wanted to stroke it, but resisted. He didn't want to scare her by coming on too strong. She'd been hesitant when he'd nearly kissed her in the tent before.

  But she hadn't been hesitant at all with Wolf Shadow. Damn, he was being stupid. But it was true. She was different with him.