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“I haven’t ridden for years,” Elizabeth said tightly. “I’d get all stiff and sore, which would be no fun with your wedding coming up.”
“We don’t have to ride that long,” her father said. “You gotta be tough to be a cowboy,” he added in a hearty, teasing voice.
“So you’ve told me.”
As Elizabeth turned to her son, Worth had the oddest impression that every muscle in her body quivered. The way a horse quivered when terrified. It was clear Elizabeth was adamantly opposed to riding with Russ. Why? What did she fear?
Old family friends had introduced Russ to his mother, but Worth had still checked into Russ’s background. He wondered if he’d checked deep enough. Russ’s first wife had left him, and Elizabeth and Russ obviously had an uneasy relationship. Russ’s surprise at Elizabeth coming to the wedding took on new, ominous overtones.
If Worth had misread Russ’s true character in a desire to see his mother happy, now, before the wedding, was the time to find out. Leaning back in his chair, Worth set out to probe into Elizabeth’s fear. “Russ, you’ll have to drive Elizabeth around and show her the ranch while she’s here. You can take your grandson along.”
“Jamie likes to ride in cars,” Elizabeth said quickly.
“You can see more on horseback,” Russ said.
A more perceptive man than Russ would have felt his hair singe at the look Elizabeth gave him. An unbelievably absurd notion began snaking its way into Worth’s head. Elizabeth didn’t object to going with Russ; she objected to going with Russ on horses.
Russ had boasted of his daughter’s riding skills until the entire Lassiter family had grown sick of listening. Worth tried to talk himself out of it, but a gut feeling that Elizabeth was afraid of horses wouldn’t go away.
Watching her closely, he tested his hunch. “We raise quarterhorses here on the Double Nickel. Although we’ve bred our share of reining and cutting champions, most of our horses are good stock animals, trained to work cattle. Too many of them are just standing around right now, eating their heads off and getting frisky. We could bring a couple up to the house for Elizabeth to try out.”
“Everyone is busy with wedding preparations,” she said immediately. “Please don’t bother doing anything special for me.”
If she hadn’t come out here to sabotage the wedding, he might have admired the way she throttled down her emotions. Emotional women grated on his nerves. With that red hair of hers, he had a feeling those pent-up emotions periodically exploded. When it happened, the fallout must be considerable.
Worth reminded himself Elizabeth’s emotions weren’t his concern. His mother’s happiness was. “It’s no trouble at all. I could bring in two or three horses first thing in the morning.”
“Put her on Wall Street,” Russ said. “That stallion’s a lot of horse, but Elizabeth can ride anything with four legs.”
For a split second her face turned so pale Worth could almost count the freckles.
“No, I can’t,” she said sharply. “Ride in the mornings, that is. I spend my mornings with Jamie.”
Worth weighed Elizabeth’s fear of horses against his mother’s future happiness. It was no contest. Life had delivered hard knocks to both women, but Mary Lassiter had never given in to self-pity. His mother had never blamed others for what fate had dealt her, and most assuredly, she’d never coldly planned to sabotage someone else’s happiness for her own revengeful purposes.
Elizabeth Randall was not going to interfere in his mother’s wedding. Or steal his chance for freedom.
Not if Worth had anything to say about it.
After dinner, Elizabeth went upstairs to put Jamie to bed. In the living room, Worth watched Russ and his mom over the top of the newspaper as they pretended to watch TV.
Russ abruptly stood. “I’m going to bed.” He strode out of the room.
Worth waited until he heard the front door shut before quietly asking, “Problems?”
Mary sighed and switched off the TV. “I’m fifty-four years old. I have wonderful children and beautiful grandchildren. Why am I thinking about taking on a husband? Maybe this wedding business isn’t such a good idea.”
A cold chill went down Worth’s back. Elizabeth Randall had spread her poison well if his mother, who deeply loved Russ, was having second thoughts. “What happened?” Worth figured he knew everything but the details.
“It’s hard to explain. At lunch Elizabeth was feeding Jamie and she made a teasing remark to him about his daddy not liking beets either, and Russ said he hoped Jamie didn’t grow up to be anything like his sissy father. Elizabeth told him she didn’t want him to belittle Jamie’s father in front of Jamie.”
“That’s no reason to get wedding jitters.”
“Russ got defensive and wouldn’t stop,” Mary said bleakly. “He went on and on criticizing her deceased husband, but as far as I can tell, the only thing Russ had against him was he wasn’t a cowboy. Elizabeth grabbed Jamie and walked out of the room. Russ knew he’d gone too far and tried to apologize, but she refused to listen to him.”
Worth pictured the entire episode as clearly as if he’d been there. Elizabeth Randall had manipulated circumstances to make Russ look bad to Mary. The first step in her campaign to sabotage the wedding. “Let them sleep on it. They’ll make up.” He didn’t believe it for a second.
“Her husband’s been dead only a little over a year. You can tell by looking at her she’s still grieving. I’m wondering if I know Russ as well as I thought I did.”
Hearing the troubled doubts in Mary’s voice, Worth gave his mother a reassuring smile. “You’ve said yourself Russ is better with cows and horses than people. Maybe he’s trying to remind Elizabeth that a living son takes precedence over a deceased husband. Doing it badly doesn’t mean Russ isn’t trying to help Elizabeth through her grief.”
“You really think that’s it?” she asked hopefully.
“I think he’s sitting out in the guest cabin fretting about what kind of father he is and worrying that he’s blown the chance to marry the world’s most wonderful woman, and he doesn’t have a clue how to fix things.”
Mary smiled self-consciously. “Maybe I should go out and give him a few clues.”
“Maybe you should.”
Worth waited a few minutes, grabbed an afghan from the back of the sofa, and sauntered out to the front porch.
Elizabeth sat curled up in the old, double porch swing. Worth handed her the afghan. “It gets chilly here at night.” He sat beside her.
She scooted as far away from him as the swing permitted. “What do you want?”
“I saw you sneak past the living room while I was talking to my mother. You should have joined us, Red. You might have been able to stop me from repairing the damage you did today.”
“Damage I did?” she asked blankly.
“Setting Russ up to look like a jerk.”
“He does that all by himself.”
“I thought we’d agreed this morning that you aren’t going to try and stop the wedding.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I did not come to Colorado to stop Russ from marrying your mother.”
“Why did you come?”
“I came because Russ asked me to. Why do you find that so difficult to believe?”
Her claim would be easier to believe if it hadn’t taken her so long to come up with it. “You came even though he didn’t go to your husband’s funeral?”
After a quick startled movement, Elizabeth asked thinly, “Russ told you?”
“He said you’re still mad at him.”
With slow, painstaking precision, Elizabeth adjusted the afghan, then pulled it tighter around her before saying in a less than credible voice, “I’m not mad at him.”
“I can see what a warm and loving relationship you two have.”
His sarcastic words hung in the air. Watching some bats swoop down to catch night-flying bugs around the porch light, Worth waited. Familiar night sounds filtered through the night. None loud enough to drown out the sound of Elizabeth breathing or the creaking of the swing chains as he propelled the swing back and forth.
When Elizabeth finally spoke, her voice was strained. “My relationship with Russ is none of your business.”
“It wouldn’t be, Red, if you hadn’t made it my business.”
She heaved a loud, long-suffering sigh. It didn’t come close to what his sisters could do when they wanted him to know how aggravating they thought him. “If you had half a brain in your head,” Elizabeth said, “you’d know I did not come to Aspen to stop Russ from getting married. Why shouldn’t he get married again? My mother is happily remarried. She has been for years. I didn’t try and stop her wedding.”
“Maybe you were too young.”
“And maybe you’re an idiot.”
“I suppose that’s always a possibility.”
“But you doubt it.”
He gave her a slow once-over in the light shining through the living room window. Ordinarily he liked a woman who didn’t back down. But not when that woman was intent on revenge. “I doubt it.”
“It must be nice to be so smug and self-assured. Something you learned at your father’s knee?”
“Nope.” Because he knew it would annoy her, he laid his arm along the back of the swing and gave her a mocking grin.
“Of course not. I’m sure your father was perfect.”
“Beau was a lot of things, but he’d have been the first to admit perfect wasn’t one of them.”
“It’s hard to believe a man related to you could be humble.”
“Humility has nothing to do with it. Beau was honest. He knew his strengths and weaknesses.”
“Which were?”
“He was a rodeo cowboy with a talent for riding bulls and charming ladies.” Worth paused. “And a lousy father and husband. After I was born, Mom stayed here on the ranch and Beau dropped by whenever he needed a place to recuperate after an injury. Once he healed, it was off to the bright lights again, twice leaving Mom pregnant.”
“Don’t you mean three times?” Elizabeth asked,
Worth shook his head. “Beau picked up women like a dog picks up burrs. Greeley’s the result of a fling Beau had with a bartender in Greeley. After the woman gave birth, she drove here straight from the hospital and dumped Greeley off on Mom.”
“Just like that? What did Mary do?”
He heard the horror in her voice and guessed she was thinking of her son. “Mom raised Greeley,” he said. “Loved her. Greeley is one of us. A Lassiter. Lassiters take care of Lassiters.” Worth could almost see Elizabeth processing the information as she looked at him, her eyes wide.
“Now I understand. It’s called transference or something,” she said slowly. “You don’t want your mother to remarry, but you’re filled with guilt about feeling that way, so you’ve assigned your negative feelings to me.” His face must have looked as dumbfounded as he felt, because she continued, “I suppose you’ve considered yourself the man of the family for a long time. You don’t want another man moving into your territory and taking over from you.”
Worth laughed. “If you’re going to try and confuse the issue with psychobabble, you at least ought to come up with something halfway plausible.”
“I was trying to sympathize with you,” she snapped.
He gave a disgusted snort. “Good try, but I’m not so easily fooled. Or sidetracked. Your resentment of Russ sticks out a country mile.”
“I do not resent him,” she said, glaring at him. “And I’m not going to sit here and listen to any more of your paranoid accusations.”
He closed his fingers around the clump of hair at the back of her head before she could stand. “We haven’t finished our little chat.”
“I’ve finished.”
“Then you can listen, but first…I hate your hair skewered to the back of your head like that.”
“I don’t care if…What are you doing? Stop that.”
He imprisoned the hand swatting at his hand. “I’ve been wanting to do this from the minute I saw you. Here.” Opening the hand he held, he dropped the hairpins in her palm. “You don’t have to look as if you have one foot in the grave just because your husband died.”
A stark silence met his words before she said in a shaken voice, “That’s a cruel thing to say.”
“It’s honest.” He locked eyes with hers. “Your husband died, and I’m sorry for what you’re suffering, but you have a child to raise. It’s time for you to think about what’s in his best interests and quit being self-indulgent. How can you take care of your son if you don’t take care of yourself? Skipping meals and not getting enough sleep are stupid. They won’t bring your husband back to life any more than skinning back your hair will. The man gave you his son. Refusing to live yourself is no way to thank him.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know I’m going to kiss you.” He hadn’t known it, but now he’d said it out loud, the idea intrigued him.
Elizabeth froze like a deer caught in the headlights.
Worth spread his fingers over her face, his palms cupping her cheeks. Her skin was warm and smooth, like a baby’s skin. Nothing about her mouth reminded him of a baby. A full bottom lip wobbled the tiniest bit. Worth hesitated. He didn’t force kisses on unwilling women. She didn’t back away. Her mouth opened slightly. Inviting him.
He sensed she was as curious as he was.
His fingers slid into her hair. Silky threads snared his knuckles. Slanting his mouth over hers, he kissed her gently, then added some firmness, and when she didn’t protest or pull away, he deepened the kiss.
She didn’t pull away from him, even if her muted response only hinted at a fiery passion he suspected she’d buried with her husband.
Every muscle in Worth’s body tightened, and he knew he shouldn’t have kissed her. Because he wanted to keep kissing her. Wanted to take her to bed. Wanted to make love to her until she’d completely freed that passion.
Thoughts of her husband brought back sanity, and Worth lifted his head. The light from the living room fell on her face, and he read a confused vulnerability in her eyes before she looked down. Worth tucked the afghan securely around her legs and curved a hand around the back of her neck. “I’m not going to apologize.” Curling a tendril of red hair around his finger, he wondered it didn’t sear his skin. “You wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you.”
“You didn’t want to kiss me,” she said wearily. “You wanted to intimidate me.” Her downcast eyelashes brushed against the dusting of freckles on her cheeks.
He snatched his hand away from her neck. “Are you saying I forced you to kiss me? That you didn’t want to kiss me?”
“I’m saying you have this idiotic notion I’m here to stop Russ from marrying your mother, and you’ll do anything you can to ensure the wedding goes ahead.”
He relaxed. She might shy away from acknowledging she’d returned his kiss, but apparently she was honest enough, at least about that, not to tell outright lies about it. “I didn’t realize you were so susceptible to my kisses.” Worth swallowed a grin as he felt her stiffen. “That leads to all kinds of possibilities. If I kiss you again, will you shovel out the barn? Repair some fence? I have a whole stack of calving data which needs entering in the computer. How many kisses will that cost me?”
“You rate your kisses too high. If I were trying to interfere with the wedding, which I’m not, you could kiss me from now until the cows come home, and you couldn’t stop me.”
“Lucky for me that I’m not relying on my kisses to stop you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it—” She stopped abruptly. Several minutes passed before she asked warily, “What does that mean?”
