No Quarter Asked Read online

  The horse broke into an eager trot, refreshed by the brief rest in the meadow. Stacy captured his spirit and eased her hold on the reins. The horse immediately moved into a rocking lope. As they reached the rock-strewn foothills, his gait slowed to a fast walk as he picked his way. Cajun followed not far behind. Stacy turned for one last look at the grassland she had left.

  At that moment, with Stacy turned and off-balance in the saddle, a rattlesnake resting underneath a nearby bush sounded his warning. Before Stacy could turn around, Diablo was screaming, rearing high into the air. His terror was beyond restraint as he shook his head violently, protesting Stacy's instant tightening of the reins. Spinning in a half rear towards the flatland, the stallion unseated his light rider completely. As Stacy lost her grip and tumbled off, the horse bolted, taking his avenue of escape.

  Unable to break her fall, Stacy landed heavily on her shoulders. Her neck snapped back at the impact, striking her head on a rock. Pain seared through her body. Valiantly she attempted to fight the unconsciousness that threatened her. She struggled up on one elbow, catching a glimpse of Diablo streaking across the meadow with his tail high. Vaguely she recognized the Shepherd racing towards her before she succumbed to the promising relief of blackness.

  Frowning, Stacy turned slightly to look where the voice had come from. With difficulty she forced her eyes to focus on the smiling face hovering above her.

  'Where am I? My father, is he—-' she started, her brown eyes glancing around the unfamiliar setting in panic. Then she closed her eyes and added, 'I remember now. I fell.'

  'Don't try to talk,' admonished the doctor. 'You've had a bad fall, but you're going to be fine. I'm Dr. Buchanan, Mary's husband.'

  Attempting a smile at the recognized name, Stacy tried to speak. 'Is Mary here?'

  'No, you're at the Circle H. Cord Harris found you and brought you to his ranch. You owe him a great debt.'

  'No!' Stacy cried, feebly struggling to rise from the bed. 'I can't stay here, I can't!'

  'Now listen, young lady,' the doctor said, gently restraining her movement. 'You need rest. The best place for you right now is in this bed.'

  Pleadingly she looked into his face, her eyes clouding with tears as she desperately willed him to change his mind. His returning gaze was adamant. Involuntarily her eyes turned to the doorway that was now blocked by Cord. It was impossible to tell how long he had been there, his fierce gaze taking in both parties.

  'Oh, why,' she sobbed helplessly, 'why did you have to be the one who found me?'

  'I assure you I wasn't out looking for you,' was the caustic reply. 'I found your horse running loose and backtracked him.'

  'That's enough talking,' interrupted Dr. Buchanan. 'It's time you rested.'

  Not having the strength to fight either her unwanted host or the doctor's orders, Stacy turned her face from both of them and allowed the frustration and pain to sweep her away. The two men's eyes locked over the girl, the rancher's defiant and unflinching, the other's probing and questioning.

  'I think we should leave her to rest in quiet,' the doctor suggested, gathering up his instruments.

  It was late evening before Stacy woke again. She lay quietly in the bed and studied her surroundings with a little more interest. The bedroom was masculine with heavy Spanish furniture and bold, definite colours. She couldn't help wondering if this was the rancher's bedroom. It seemed stamped with the same austere personality that branded Cord Harris. Dark mahogany beams coursed the ceiling, accenting the white, textured paint. The coarse-grained effect was carried through in the curtains with their loose-weave tweed in reds and oranges that was repeated in the coverlet on her bed.

  Stacy pushed herself into a sitting position in the bed, fighting off the wave of nausea that followed the movement. She was wearing a nightgown. The realization shocked her as she looked down at the yellow bodice. How and when had she changed? Who had helped her? Her face crimsoned at the thought of the muscular Texan. It was even her own nightgown. How had he come into possession of it? Unless, of course, he had sent someone after her things. But he wouldn't dare have the nerve to touch her!

  'Well, I see you've returned to us. I thought you were going to sleep all through the night,' came a low voice from the doorway.

  Stacy's eyes snapped up to face her unexpected visitor, her cheeks still blushing. 'What time is it?' Stacy stammered, unnerved at seeing the man who had been occupying her thoughts.

  'After eight,' Cord replied, pulling up a chair beside her bed and gazing at her intently. His voice held no trace of the sarcasm she associated with him as he asked, 'How are you feeling?'

  ' 'Better,' she replied, unable to meet his penetrating eyes. 'I want to thank you for all you've done. I—–'

  'There's no need. I consider myself lucky that I spotted your horse. I hate to think how long you might have lain out there before you were found.' His low voice still carried that gentle tone that was so unfamiliar to her and did such strange things to her heart. 'Here, let me fix those pillows for you.'

  Self-consciously Stacy allowed him to add another pillow behind her head. Aware of his nearness, she glanced up to his face, taking in the clear cut of his jaw and soft firmness of his mouth, but refusing to look above the high cheekbones at the dark, unfathomable eyes. She caught the scent of his cologne which she remembered so vividly from their encounter on the road. It was difficult to ignore the muscular chest and arms encased in the crisp white shirt. Stacy was sure he could hear the wild beating of her heart and cursed the way his physical presence could arouse her.

  'Isn't that more comfortable?' said Cord, reseating himself in his chair. A smile was showing faintly on his mouth as if acknowledging the girl's embarrassment at his nearness. He couldn't fail to detect the flush growing in her cheeks as she sat silently with downcast eyes. 'Perhaps, Stacy, we should try to begin again,' he said, his voice changing to an impersonal tone at her continued absorption with a bow on her gown. 'We got off to a rather bad start. The doctor feels that it's best for you to stay here until you can get back on your feet. As it will only be a temporary situation, it will make it easier for both of us if we ignore our personal feelings.'

  Surprised at his open acknowledgement of the unspoken antagonism between them, Stacy looked up into the two dark eyes regarding her so thoughtfully.

  ‘Well, are we friends?’

  Hesitantly Stacy placed her slim hand in the outstretched palm. It was engulfed in the large, tanned hand. She felt he held it a little longer than was necessary, yet the suddenness of his release upset her. His brows were now contracted in that old familiar frown and his mouth curled in a whimsical smile as he rose and looked down at her. Once again his size and air of superiority overwhelmed her.

  'I imagine you're more interested in getting something, to eat than listening to me. I'll send Maria in with some soup and tea,' the dark figure said, moving towards the end of the bed. 'Oh, by the way, your dog is outside and your horse is bedded down in one of our stud pens. I also took the liberty of bringing a few of your things here from the cabin. I hope you don't mind.'

  'No,' Stacy answered, surprised at the meekness in her voice.

  'Good,' he said, a twinkle now in his eyes. 'In case you were wondering, Maria ‘prepared’ you for bed.'

  Indignation rose in her as the tall rancher left the room. 'He's positively insufferable!' she thought. How could she have been taken in by that initial gentleness? Just imagining how he must have been laughing at her all the while he was sitting there angered her further. He was right about one thing—for the time being, she had to compromise until she was on her feet again. The throbbing in her head forced her thoughts to change to quieter things.

  By the time the robust housekeeper, Maria, arrived with her food, Stacy's composure had returned, though she was sure her cheeks still retained some of their unnatural colour.

  'Ah, the leetle one is feeling much better, no?' smiled the jovial Mexican, placing the tray with a steaming bowl o
f broth on Stacy's lap. 'The head, eet does not hurt so much?'

  'Only a little. The soup smells good,' Stacy replied, inhaling the invigorating aroma of the hot broth. She was hungrier than she had thought. Thankfully Maria left the room and Stacy was allowed to eat at her leisure. She had just finished the last of the tea when the Mexican woman returned for the tray.

  'That was very good, Maria,' Stacy smiled, handing the tray to the waiting hands.

  'Gracias. I cook good. Meester Cord, he say my cooking the best anywhere in Texas.' The large woman giggled at the audacity of the claim.

  'Well, perhaps he exaggerated a little, but it was very good,' Stacy laughed.

  'You get some more sleep now,' Maria instructed, helping Stacy settle back under the covers. 'We have you up in no time. Doctor say for you to keep warm and rest, but thees bed so beeg you get lost in it. I tell Meester Cord, but he say eet all right. Pooh! You should have a man to keep you warm, not a beeg bed.'

  Stacy could feel herself blushing at the woman's advice. She remembered again her impression that this was Cord's bedroom. She had to ask.

  'Si, si,' the big woman laughed. 'You theenk maybe he sleep here tonight. No, he thought eet better he sleep in office.'

  Maria continued her laughing, her belly rolling with the force of her mirth and her fatty underarms bouncing as she carried the tray out of the room. Stacy glanced apprehensively around before putting out the light. Although fearful that she would be unable to sleep, she dropped off almost immediately.

  The morning sun was dancing its patterns on the braided rug beside Stacy's bed. Maria had already brought in her breakfast and had helped her clean up. Rather than attempting to brush the hair around her wound, Stacy had merely pulled it back and tied it with a bow to match the bedjacket that had been brought along with her other clothes. She felt much better as long as she ignored the dull pain in her head and the sniffles in her nose. She was just examining the unusual scrollwork in the bedroom door when it opened to admit the smiling face of Cord Harris.

  'Good morning. Maria said you were up.' His low voice was cheerful with no trace of sarcasm. 'Do you feel like a visitor?'

  'A visitor?' Stacy echoed, trying to think of who would be coming to see her. 'Yes.'

  'Okay, feller, come on in,' said Cord, swinging the door wider to admit a cautious German Shepherd.

  'Cajun!' Stacy exclaimed happily as the big dog recognized the figure in the bed and bounded to her, his tail wagging happily. With his front paws on the bed, he proceeded to give her a thorough washing with his big tongue. 'Stop it, you silly idiot!'

  'I think he's rather pleased to see you. He refused to eat this morning and wouldn't move away from the front door, so I decided the best thing would be to let him see for himself that you were all right,' Cord explained, still standing in the doorway.

  'I hope he wasn't too much of a bother,' Stacy said after she had managed to push the Shepherd off the bed and on to the floor where he sat gazing at his mistress with undisguised adoration. 'I'm afraid we're rather attached to each other.'

  'I have some work to do around the ranch, so I'll leave the dog here for company. I've instructed Maria to bring you some books from the library. I know we don't have the elegant surroundings you've been accustomed to, but if there's anything else you would like, just ask and we'll see what we can arrange.'

  'Thank you,' she replied, wishing she could think of something else to say. 'Everything's fine, really, and I'll try not to be any trouble to you.'

  'You won't be—at least, not any more than I can handle,' he replied. The mocking smile returned to his face before Cord left, closing the door behind him.

  'Have you ever been ‘handled’ before?' Stacy asked the Shepherd, wondering why Cord had developed such a negative attitude towards her. 'I imagine he thinks he can ‘handle’ anything that comes along!'

  A few minutes later Maria arrived with some novels and magazines. Stacy noticed a couple of her favourite books and settled back to read. The day passed rather swiftly. With each knock on the door she half expected to see the rancher appear. When Maria returned for the supper tray that evening and Cord still hadn't come, Stacy decided that he wasn't going to come. Strangely enough, she felt disappointed. She tried to attribute it to her loneliness and desire for company regardless of how arrogant he might be.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WITH a contented sigh, Stacy rested her head against the cushion and gave the Shepherd lying beside her an affectionate pat. Her soft brown curls lay carelessly around her neck, touching the edge of the simple orange and yellow shift with its V-neck and capped sleeves. Her tanned legs glistened all the way down to the Roman sandals she wore.

  A subtle application of powder hid the slight redness around her straight nose that was the last reminder of the cold that had racked her body with chills and fever the past week. Her recovery had been swift, thanks to the quick action of Dr. Buchanan who had been summoned as soon as the course of her illness became apparent, and had given her medication.

  Stacy was so engrossed in her outdoor surroundings that she failed to hear the measured steps entering the cobblestoned veranda until they were a few feet from her. Instantly she recognized the deliberate walk; hadn't she listened for it enough times outside her bedroom door this past week? It belonged to Cord Harris. Looking up, she met the full gaze of the rugged man's dark eyes. Her own travelled over the blue turtle-necked shirt accenting his broad shoulders and muscular arms, then down the trim waist and narrow hips, taking in the black slacks tapering over his dress boots.

  So accustomed was she to seeing Cord in ranch wear, Stacy was surprised that he wore the dressy sports clothes with such ease. Most outdoor men she had met always looked uncomfortable in anything other than their everyday wear. She couldn't help noticing that there was no tell-tale sunburn where the hat brim ended nor where the sleeve of his shirt started. He obviously found time to make use of the pool.

  Uncomfortably aware that she had been staring, Stacy blushed. A tall glass of iced liquid was held before her by a large, tanned hand. Timidly she accepted it, and her half-raised eyes caught the bemused smile on Cord's face. Though he had noticed Stacy's scrutinizing stare, Cord made no comment as he pulled up a rattan chair beside her.

  'You're looking very well,' he said gently, his eyes flicking over her face. 'I hope the drink is satisfactory. I don't know if it's included in the doctor's orders, but it can't do any harm.'

  'Thank you. It's fine,' Stacy replied, taking a sip out of the tall glass. Her senses were tingling with the nearness of her host as the smell of shampoo and shaving lotion wafted over to her in the evening breeze.

  'I imagine it feels rather good to get outside after being shut in for so long.'

  'Yes, it does. You have such a beautiful view. You must be exceptionally proud of your home,' said Stacy, a nervous lilt in her voice. She felt an unaccountable need to keep the conversation going.

  'The antiqueness of the hacienda doesn't offend you?'

  'Oh, no!' she exclaimed, her eyes widening. 'It's lovely. You must have done a lot of remodelling.'

  'Yes, we did. The original hacienda enclosed this area here. It served as a fortress against attacks in the early days. When I decided to remodel it, I eliminated the south and west wings. Even now there's more room than a bachelor needs,' Cord informed her with a smile.

  'But when you marry and have children, it will be perfect,' Stacy said as she looked at the whitewashed adobe walls.

  'Undoubtedly.' There was a coldness and withdrawal in his tone and his attention was riveted on a distant mountain.

  'What I meant was the size—-' she stammered.

  'I understand what you mean, Miss Adams,' returning his dark, expressionless eyes to her. 'But I don't anticipate that prospect being fulfilled in the near future.'

  Obviously he was referring to his star-crossed romance with the girl Mary had spoken about. ‘You never know,' Stacy replied a little more brightly than she felt. 'I'm
sure there are a lot of girls who are very anxious to change your mind, Mr. Harris.'

  'Are you one?' A raised eyebrow disappeared into the black hair curling over his forehead.

  'I wasn't referring to myself,' she replied a trifle indignantly.'

  'It's very romantic-sounding to marry a man who owns a spread the size of this one, but reality is quite another thing,' he continued. 'This is a hard, demanding land even in these advanced times. The hours are long and the results are unpredictable at best. A wife can expect to be alone a great deal, and isolated. As far as entertainment is concerned, it's non-existent with the exception of an occasional social gathering. The same with the large department stores you're accustomed to. Major shopping requires a trip to San Antoine or El Paso. The rigours of this life are more than a city girl would want to cope with.'

  'I wasn't applying for the position, Mr. Harris,' Stacy retorted, rising from the chaise with a reddened face.

  'Cord,' he supplied, towering over her as he rose. Taking her arm, he steered her towards the pool, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 'Come over here. I want to show you something.'

  'What is it?' Her impatience was marked by the sharpness in her voice.

  'Really, Miss Adams,' Cord said in a mock scolding voice. 'I would have thought you'd learned by now how to take a little teasing!'

  'I have met certain egotistical men who would be vain enough to believe that all women fall at their feet!'

  'As I have met women who feel they're the answer to every man's prayer and he should succumb to their charms.' The two had reached the opposite side of the pool and stood facing each other defiantly, his hand still upon her arm. The air between them crackled with the unspoken challenge. His voice was low as he turned to face the horizon. 'Continuing this subject would accomplish nothing. We both have our own views.'

  'Precisely,' Stacy said crisply. 'Now if you'll show me whatever it is you wanted me to see, I'll return to my room.'

  'You wouldn't be interested.'