The Mating Season Page 6

  Gloved fingers reached up to touch his hat brim. "Mornin', miss."

  As he walked past her outside, he carefully averted his eyes. Jonni smiled. She had forgotten how shy some Western men could be. There had been recognition in his first brief glance. He knew who she was, but he hadn't forced an introduction of himself, a gesture of respect for her privacy. Jonni had missed that in the six years she had been living in the east. There, it seemed only aggressiveness was recognized.

  A bale of hay was dropped from above to land on the barn floor in front of her. It bounced once, sending up a cloud of chaff and dust. Some of it filtered into Jonni's lungs. She coughed and waved to clear the air she was breathing.

  Looking up, she saw Gabe standing at the edge of the opening to the hayloft. His stance was relaxed, one knee slightly bent. His arms were at his side, leather gloves protecting his hands. Instead of a jacket, he was wearing a suede vest lined with sheepskin. Wisps of hay and chaff were clinging to the rough denim fabric covering his muscled legs. He looked tough and fit, a man of the West with his hat pulled low and that dark mustache shadowing his mouth.

  Irritation simmered through Jonni as she realized he had tossed that bale of hay down without checking to see if anyone was below. But, she hadn't been anywhere close so it was pointless to say anything.

  "Good morning." Her greeting was sharp with a ring of challenge.

  "You're up early this morning." He lifted his hat and settled it back onto his head in almost the same position as before.

  "Why does everyone seem so surprised by it?" Jonni questioned with a surge of impatience. "First mom and dad, now you. I've always been an early riser."

  "Were you? You've been gone six years. We've probably forgotten." His gibe at her prolonged absence struck a sore nerve, but he was already turning away before she could retaliate. "I've got a couple more bales coming down. You'd better step out of the way."

  "You could have warned me the last time," Jonni retorted, and moved to stand close to the door.

  "I saw you."

  Jonni could hear his flat voice and the sound of his footsteps walking in the loft above her, but she couldn't see him. "You could have said something just the same."

  "Like what?" Gabe appeared briefly in the loft opening to toss down the bale he carried, then disappeared.

  "Like 'good morning.' It's considered good manners to greet people when you see them," she flashed after him.

  Gabe came back with the third bale and it tumbled to the floor with the others. "Good morning." He recited the phrase she had prompted. He jumped down from the loft, landing on his feet like a cat.

  Jonni shook her head in exasperation, frustrated and at a loss as to how to cope with his terseness. "Do you want to give me a hand with these bales?" Without waiting for an answer, Gabe picked up the nearest one and started toward the row of partitioned mangers.

  Hesitating for a mutinous instant, Jonni walked to a second and reached down to pick it up by the parallel bands of twine. The taut string bit into her fingers as she tried to lift. It was too heavy. She could barely get it off the ground.

  "It weighs a ton!" Jonni dropped it within an inch of where it had been, groaning from the exertion.

  Gabe stopped, carrying his with little obvious effort. "About eighty pounds is all. You're out of condition."

  "Eighty pounds is all." She repeated his words sarcastically.

  "Maybe less." He shrugged. Down the row of stalls, a horse stretched its neck over the manger and whickered at the delay. "Here." Gabe set the bale he was carrying on the floor. Deliberately he broke the twine to free the square bale of hay. "Put some hay in the mangers for the horses. I'll bring the other bales."

  Jonni took a portion of the unbound hay and deposited it in the first manger. A chestnut horse plunged its nose into the strands. "Who was that man who left when I came in? Is he somebody new you've hired?" she asked as she walked back to the bale for another armload of hay.

  Gabe carried the second bale farther down the line. "Ted Higgins. He's not exactly new — he's been working here four years now. He and his wife have rented the old Digby house. He was in town all day yesterday. His wife is in the hospital."

  "Oh? Is it serious?" As Jonni emptied the hay into the manger and turned back for more, she fell in step beside Gabe.

  He looked down at her, his expression cold and remote. "What do you care? You're only going to be here two weeks."

  She stopped short, his response acting like a slap in the face. "Damn you, Gabe Stockman!" She trembled with indignant anger. "I asked because I was interested. I care about people."

  "You have a hell of a way of showing it." He continued forward and picked up the last bale.

  Jonni planted herself in his path. "Exactly what is that supposed to mean?"

  Gabe stopped, resting much of the weight of the bale against his leg. "It means for the past six years you've been waltzing around New York in your fancy clothes and jewelry. You didn't have time for anyone but yourself. Then you get a notion to do a bit of slumming and turn up here. What are we supposed to do? Get down on our knees and be grateful a Kansas Starr has decided to come back to our heavens for two weeks?"

  When he started to push his way by her, Jonni grabbed at his forearm to top him. "I couldn't come back before now. I was working."

  "Sure." His tone was derisive.

  "I was working!" she repeated angrily.

  "Very hard work it was, too," Gabe mocked. "Getting your picture taken."

  "It sounds easy, does it?" Jonni snapped. "You should try it sometime. Get up at the crack of dawn and rush to some studio. Sit in a chair for two hours to have your makeup done and your hair styled. Then pose in front of hot, bright lights for hours and smile until the muscles in your cheeks quiver and ache. Some designer is usually standing in the background screaming that you're perspiring all over his magnificent creation. Oh, l have an absolute ball every minute, Gabe!"

  "It sounds like it," he commented, some of the coldness leaving his look.

  "It doesn't end when the camera is out of film," Jonni continued, still steaming from his previous remark. "No, you have to watch what you eat so you don't gain weight or so your face doesn't break out in unsightly blemishes. And you have to go to bed early so the camera won't discover any shadows under your eyes the next day. It's a very glamorous profession, but not when you're in it. It's work, hot, tiring work. If you want to stay on top, you have to fight for every assignment, the way I've had to the past six years." Her voice rang with six years of tiredness, frustration and disillusionment.

  Sensing that the heat of her temper had been vented, Gabe stepped around her with the bale and walked down the row, speaking as he walked. "I told you six years ago you wouldn't like it. That kind of life isn't for you. But you wouldn't listen to me."

  "Is that what all this has been leading up to?" Jonni asked with open-mouthed incredulity. "You just wanted an opportunity to say 'I told you so,' didn't you? You're forgetting that when you tried to talk me out of going six years ago, you also told me I wouldn't make it. Well, I didn't fail, Gabe. I'm the best in the business." She was stating facts, not bragging.

  "So?" He dropped the bale and reached down to snap the twine. "Is that why you stuck it out even after you discovered you didn't like it?"

  "Partly," she admitted. "You were so positive I was going to fall flat on my face that I was determined to prove you were wrong."

  Gabe straightened, drawing his head back to study he and gauge the truth of her statement. "Okay, so you've proved that. Now what? Since it hasn't turned out to be the bed of roses you envisaged and you don't like it, why go on with it after you're married?"

  For an instant, Jonni faltered over the answer. "It isn't that many more years before I'll be too old. It's rare for someone over thirty to decorate a magazine cover. Trevor and I have discussed it and decided that it's only logical for me to continue while I'm still in demand," she reasoned.

  "Was that your dec
ision? Or Trevor's?" A dark brow lifted in silent challenge.

  "Ours," she retorted. "Besides, what else would I do?"

  "Be a wife and mother."

  "My God, is that old-fashioned!" She laughed scornfully at his answer. "You're out of step with the times, Gabe."

  "Am I" he countered. "I thought that's what women's liberation was all about — to give women a choice of whether they wanted to work or stay at home without any stigma being attached to either." He picked up the loose hay and began distributing it in the mangers of the remaining stalls. "By the way, where's lover boy this morning?" His voice was dryly sardonic in its reference to Trevor.

  Simmering, Jonni took a deep breath and made a rapid mental count to ten. "If you mean Trevor, he's still in bed, sleeping." At Gabe's brief, derisive glance, she found herself rushing to defend Trevor's sleeping habits and was irritated. "Trevor rarely goes to bed before midnight, so he's accustomed to sleeping late."

  "That's some marriage you're going to have," Gabe scoffed. All the horses were now munching hay their hay. Finished, Gabe walked toward the open barn door, removing his gloves as he went.

  "You get up with the sun and he sleeps late. He stays up until all hours of the night and you go to bed early. About the only time you'll be able to spend with each other is over the dinner table," he concluded as they emerged into the morning sunshine.

  Slightly stunned, Jonni realized that she had never looked at their differing habits in quite that light before. It left her feeling a little shaken, but she glossed over it.

  "I'm sure we can arrange our schedules so we can spend time together." But she was wondering how.

  "Marriage by appointment," Gabe mocked; Dinner at 7:00 P.M., make love at 8:00 P.M. At 9:00 P.M., wife goes to sleep, husband leaves bedroom."

  Phrased that way, it sounded very cold-blooded. It irritated Jonni that Gabe had pointed out a problem she should have considered, and for which she should already have found a more adequate solution than the callous one he had offered.

  "What is it about Trevor that you don't like?" she demanded impatiently. As Gabe veered away from her Jonni added another sharp question. "Where are you going?"

  "My truck is parked near the pond by the other barn," he said, without breaking stride.

  Her long legs continued to follow him. "I don't even know why I asked you about Trevor," she grumbled. "You've found fault with everyone I've dated."

  "I don't see that it matters whether or not I like him?" Gabe pointed out. "You're the one who's going to marry him."

  "It doesn't matter," she insisted.

  Ahead of them was the pick up truck. Gabe continued toward it, tapping the leather gloves in his hand against the side of his leg as he walked. The sound picked at Jonni's nerves, stretched as taut as banjo strings.

  Chapter Five

  "THE POND IS LOW," Jonni observed.

  She stood on the knoll overlooking the man-made catch basin. The truck was parked on the other side of Gabe. An earthen dam had been built across a natural hollow in the land to trap the runoff of melting snows and spring rains, to insure water for the livestock through the long summer. A two-foot-wide ring of mud encircled the water. A duck waddled across the slowly drying band toward the encroaching grass.

  "The wind blew away what little snowfall we had last winter. So far it's been a dry spring with barely enough rain to get the ground wet," Gabe explained, and Jonni recalled her father's similar comment last night. "Another week of this and everything around here is going to be as dry as a tinderbox. Even the Cimarron is low."

  Jonni heard the morning breeze rustling through the grass, a dry sound. She was a rancher's daughter; she knew what a drought could mean. She watched Gabe remove his hat and comb his fingers through the thickness of his dark hair. It was a troubled gesture. He turned slightly to study the sky to the south as if hoping to see moisture-laden clouds coming up from the Gulf, graying the horizon.

  There wasn't a cloud in sight, not even a puffy marshmallow one. The creases around his eyes deepened as he squinted into the sun. Sighing, Gabe looked away and settled the wide-brimmed hat firmly on his head.

  "I've got to be going," he said. "With no rain to stimulate new growth, the grazing isn't good. We're moving the cattle again today — this time to the river pasture." His mouth quirked. "The boys are waiting for me and, as usual, you've held me up."

  "Yes." Jonni smiled at the remark. "You were always telling me I was keeping you from your work," she remembered. "You used to say if I wanted to talk to you, I had to do it while you were working. And you usually made me help."

  "You were in better condition then. An eighty-pound bale would have been heavy, but you'd have been able to lift it." A hint of a smile softened his mouth.

  Suddenly everything seemed all right again. Their sharp bickering a few moments ago was forgotten as a warm, beaming smile spread across Jonni's face.

  "It's good to be home again," she said. "It's wonderful to breathe fresh air again and be surrounded by a wide-open sky. I won't have to worry about how I look." She laughed. "I don't even have to put on make up if I don't want to. It will be a glorious two weeks — riding wherever I want to and as far as I want to." There was a faintly wistful look in her blue eyes. "I wish I could go with you to move the cattle. It would be like old times."

  "Why don't you come?" His low-pitched drawl extended a persuasive invitation. Jonni glanced uncertainly in the direction of the house, hidden from view by the barn. The curve of Gabe's mouth became twisted. "I forgot — you'll want to be here when lover boy gets up."

  Turning to face him, Jonni forgot to take offense at his remark. They weren't standing that far apart. Something Trevor had said about him the day before make her look at Gabe as a man and not someone she had known for years.

  She was tall, but Gabe was taller. Well-muscled, he was a very virile man with a frankly sexual way of looking at a woman. There was a fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She guessed he affected a lot of women that way. She discovered an unexpected curiosity about his personal life.

  "Why haven't you ever married, Gabe?" she asked, tipping her head to one side. "Haven't you ever thought about it?"

  "Yeah, I thought about it seriously, once," he acknowledged, but Jonni had the impression of a door slamming in his expression, shutting her out of his inner thoughts.

  "What happened?" she persisted.

  "It didn't work out," was all he said.

  Jonni wanted a more specific answer, but the squawking of a duck diverted her attention. A courting drake with his wings spread was approaching the duck that had just left the pond. The female was resisting his advances. The drake put up with her foolishness for only a few seconds before he began chasing her across the grass. The female immediately tried to escape him.

  The two went running and flying over the ground, ducking under the board fence. Before they disappeared from sight behind a wooden feeder, Jonni saw the drake grab the duck's neck with his bill to force her to the ground. Jonni wasn't embarrassed by the ritual of animal breeding. On a ranch, procreation was necessary for livelihood, and accepted as the natural course of events in life — all life.

  Gabe, who had observed the primitive courtship scene as well, turned to look at her. "You came home just in time for the mating season." The bold look in his eyes disturbed the normal rhythm of her pulse.

  "It seems I did," Jonni agreed with a half smile, refusing to be self-conscious about the facts of life.

  "I wonder — there was an undercurrent of intensity in his drawling voice, a darkening of his gaze " — whether Trevor has ever grabbed you by the neck … like this." He raised his arm, and before Jonni could take a step backward, his hand had imprisoned the back of her neck in a viselike grip. Shocked by the quality of ruthlessness about him, Jonni strained against his hold, her hands pushing at his chest, but not a sound came from her paralyzed throat.

  "Or pulled you into his arms — Gabe continued in the same deadly tone " —
like this." Her stunned resistance offered no more of an obstacle to him than a toothpick attempting to ward off an encircling band of iron as he gathered her to him. Her head was tipped back to stare at him in mute astonishment. Alarm quivered through her nerve ends as his black mustache moved closer. "Or kissed you …"

  Despite the pause, he didn't add the words "like this" to the sentence. Instead his mouth covered her lips, claiming them in a hard kiss of possession. The suede material of his vest was sensually rough beneath the palms of her hands, like the soft brush of his mustache against her skin.

  All sorts of reactions were being aroused by the driving power of his mouth, which demanded a response. His embrace lacked the practiced technique and expertise she had come to expect from Trevor. Gabe's was simpler, more basic, awakening her flesh to the desire of all life forms to mate with the opposite sex.

  The knowledge spread through her like a flame, heating her flesh wherever it was crushed to his masculine frame. Jonni trembled at the force of such a basic need, which could make her lips yield willingly to his compelling kiss when she would soon belong to another man.

  The pressure of his mouth eased slowly, then it was taken away altogether as Gabe drew his head back. There was a disturbed heaviness to his breath, warm and caressing against her skin. Her eyes opened slowly, mirroring the shock of her discovery. Something hardened in his expression. His arms loosened their hold until her legs were no longer resting against the support of his hard thighs.

  Bewildered by her reaction, Jonni raised her left hand to her lips as if by touching them she might discover the cause. His eyes narrowed at the gesture, his arms returning to his side.

  "Why did you do that, Gabe?" She had experienced passion before, but this had gone beyond that to something more profound.

  The sun touched her diamond and flashed a prism of light onto the shadowed features below the hat brim. Gabe looked grim.

  "How the hell do I know?" he muttered thickly. "What eats at me is I should have done it six years ago."