THE TIES THAT BIND Read online

  Unable to bear his silence an instant longer, she finally snapped, "What are you doing over there, anyway?"

  "Isn't it obvious? I'm repairing this gate."

  "What for? We keep only the most valuable horses in here. The rest of the riding stock is kept in the corrals or the pasture next to the yard. Bertha, here, is out of a long line of prize cutting horses, and I assumed you stabled that stallion you ride for the same reason, but the rest of our stock are just work horses."

  "Not that black stallion in corral four. He's a beauty."

  "True, but he's also meaner than a snake and unridable. That's why he's being sold."

  "Not anymore, he's not."

  "What do you mean? I've already found a buyer in Dallas willing to take him." Bertha nickered and shifted uneasily at her harsh tone. "Mr. Henderson is driving up next week to pick him up."

  "I called Henderson and canceled the deal."

  "You what!" Willa slammed down the brush. "You can't do that!"

  "It's done." He tossed the screwdriver back into the toolbox and closed the lid, then stood up and swung the gate back and forth to test it.

  Willa let herself out of the stall and marched over to him. "You had no right—"

  "I had every right. I'm in charge now. Remember?"

  She ground her teeth and glared. Paying no attention to her impotent rage, Zach calmly picked up the toolbox and headed for the back of the barn to place it on a shelf. Willa followed right behind.

  "It makes no sense to keep that animal. If you'd bothered to ask, anyone could have told you that Satan can't be ridden. All he's good for is breeding. This is a cattle ranch, not a horse farm. If a horse can't be ridden he's no good to us."

  "I'll ride him."

  "Ha! Better men than you have tried. At one time or another every hand on the place has. Satan has been the cause of more broken bones than I care to count. Sooner or later he's going to seriously injure someone, maybe even kill them. And you think you're going to break him. Fat chance."

  "I said, I'll ride him."

  Zach placed the toolbox on the shelf and strode back down the aisle toward the front of the barn. Willa dogged his steps.

  "Oh, of course. How silly of me. I forgot, you're the big rodeo star." Dropping the simpering voice, she made a disgusted sound. "Believe me, it'll take more than a broken down bronc buster to ride that horse. Who do you think you are, John Wayne? You're going to have to stick on his back a heck of a lot longer than a measly nine seconds to break him, and that can't be done."

  "I don't intend to break him. I'm going to gentle him first, then ride him."

  She let out a derisive hoot. "That'll be the day. Do let me know when you plan to perform this miracle, won't you? I'd like to sell tickets."

  "That's it!" He stopped and whirled around so quickly that she slammed into his chest and would have bounced off if he hadn't grasped her upper arms.

  Surprise formed Willa's mouth into an O, but the fury in those silvery eyes silenced her. "Dammit, woman! You've been snapping at my heels like a vicious little terrier for weeks now," he snarled. "I know you got a raw deal from Seamus, and for that reason I've tried my damnedest to be patient with you, but enough is enough."

  His explosive reaction had taken her by surprise, but Willa wasn't one to remain intimidated for long. She tipped her chin up at a pugnacious angle. "Oh? And what are you going to do about it? Beat me?"

  "Don't think I'm not tempted to turn you over my knee and blister your butt. But I won't. I've never struck a woman in my life and I don't intend to start now."

  "Then there's not much you can do about it, is there?" she said smugly.

  Zach's eyes narrowed. "Don't count on it, little girl. There's more than one way to shut you up."

  His mouth slammed down on hers, cutting off the sassy retort that was forming on her tongue before she could make a sound. Willa was so stunned she froze.

  Then the heat seared through the icy shock. It slid through her veins like molten lava, flushing her skin, melting her bones. The smell of him was all around her – a potent male scent, musky and erotic. It made her lightheaded and weak and sent a tingle down her spine.

  Zach was in complete control. His mouth rocked over hers, hard, insistent, devouring. Unbearably exciting.

  Silently, he commanded her to open to him, and she obeyed mindlessly. When his tongue plunged into her mouth and stroked against hers, passion flared like a gasoline-fed bonfire. The greedy flames shot skyward, consuming her.

  Willa moaned as her knees buckled, but when she began to slump, Zach simply tightened his hold on her arms. She hung there between his big, calloused hands like a rag doll as the kiss went on and on. Her heart thrummed and her head spun and her body throbbed and yearned as it never had before.

  As suddenly as it had begun, the kiss ended. Zach set her away from him at arm's length, holding her steady while she settled. She blinked at him, bewildered and disoriented, still lost in the daze of passion. "Wha…? Why…?"

  Slowly, his stern face came into focus, and as the reality of what had just passed between them came crashing down on her she felt the cold slap of rejection, followed instantly by the most pride-rending mortification she had ever known.

  Then, from outside the barn she heard the noisy approach of a group of riders, and she knew why he had ended the kiss so abruptly. That knowledge, however, did not alleviate the terrible humiliation.

  "We don't have much time before someone barges in here, so listen up," Zach growled, giving her a little shake. "Let that be a warning. Those who play with fire can expect to get burned, so unless you want more of the same, in the future you had better keep that sharp tongue of yours sheathed. Got it?"

  Too embarrassed to fight back, Willa bobbed her head once and prayed the ground would open up and swallow her. When Zach released her she staggered back a couple of steps. The instant she regained her balance she bolted for the door.

  "Hey, Willa, how's it goin'?" one of the cowboys called when she emerged from the barn. The others offered similar greetings.

  Normally she would have stopped and shot the breeze for a while, but this time, muttering a barely audible, "Evening," Willa ducked her head and stomped past them, her knees threatening to buckle with every wobbly step.

  The men stared after her, slack-jawed. "Well, if that don't beat all. Whaddaya s'pose put a burr under her saddle?"

  "More likely who. She's prob'ly been buttin' heads with the boss again."

  The comments brought a blush to Willa's cheeks, making her profoundly grateful for the darkness.

  To her great relief, no one was in the kitchen when she entered the house. Maria always retired to her quarters and put her feet up after dinner, and from the sounds coming from the den, everyone else was in there.

  When she reached the safety of her room she leaned back against the closed door and squeezed her eyes shut, nearly sick with shame and self-loathing.

  What on earth was the matter with her? Why hadn't she fought him? She could have kicked or bitten. Or used her fists, for that matter. Instead she had just stood there like a stump and let him kiss her senseless.

  Groaning, Willa folded her arms over her middle and rocked back and forth as though she had a bellyache. Dear Lord, she had just meekly let him do as he pleased, docile as a sacrificial lamb. Worse, she'd actually enjoyed the searing rush of sensations and emotion, wallowed in them, mindless to everything but Zach and the way he made her feel. The way he made her burn for him. Like some love-sick teenager.

  Most humiliating of all, the kiss had not affected Zach in the least. He hadn't been trembling or flushed or weak in the knees. He had just stood there, pinning her with those icy eyes, steady as a rock. She wanted to kick him. Hard. Then she wanted to shrivel up and die.

  * * *

  The instant Willa disappeared through the barn door Zach relinquished his steely self-control, and as his knees buckled he plopped down onto a bale of hay, shaken to the core. The kiss was suppo
sed to have been a warning to Willa, but it had backfired on him. He felt like he'd been run over by a loaded cattle truck. He propped his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. "Aw hell!"

  * * *

  Chapter 5

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  Willa had never dreaded anything in her life as much as she did facing Zach the next morning, but when she entered the kitchen he barely glanced her way. Throughout breakfast he behaved the same as he always did, saying little beyond discussing the work schedule for the day or any possible change predicted for the weather. After a while she realized that he had put that sizzling kiss in the barn out of his mind, just as though it had never happened. At first Willa didn't know whether to be relieved or insulted, but his disinterest grated on her and set her temper to simmering.

  So did the memory of his warning. Playing with fire, indeed. If he thought the encounter would scare her into meekly accepting his dictates, he was sorely mistaken.

  He had caught her off guard, that was all. That's why she had behaved like a docile idiot. It wouldn't happen again.

  Neither her anger nor Zach's maddening indifference lessened her need to escape, however, and when he mentioned that he wanted someone to drive to Bozeman and pick up the tractor engine they'd had rebuilt, she volunteered.

  The trip took most of the day. When Willa drove into the ranch yard that afternoon she spotted the Dolan kids sitting on the top rail of the corral, cheering and clapping.

  She parked the truck by the tractor barn and walked over to see what all the fuss was about.

  She arrived just in time to see the chestnut gelding J.T. was riding rear up when he jerked the reins too hard. He let out a shout and slid backward over the cantle and right off the horse's rump, and hit the ground flat on his own behind, raising a cloud of dust and a chorus of groans from the kids.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Matt doubled over the front of his saddle and guffawed. The sudden loud sound so close to his mount's ear startled the horse. The Appaloosa whinnied and rolled his eyes and went into a side-stepping dance.

  Matt's laughter cut off instantly. Dropping the reins, he flung his arms around the animal's neck and held on for dear life, scaring the horse all the more and sending the animal into a series of bucks. Inspired, J.T.'s loose mount ran around the perimeter of corral, tossing his head and kicking out with his hind legs every few steps.

  "Dang blast it!" Pete roared.

  J.T. scrambled to his feet, hobbled over to the side and hopped up on the first board of the corral fence to avoid being kicked or trampled. Grinning, he called, "Hey, Matt! Having a little trouble with your horse?" He let out a whoop. "Ride 'um, cowboy!"

  Pete chased after horse and rider with his funny, bow-legged gait, shaking his fist. "Dang blast you dang-blasted ornery good-fer-nothin' critters!" After several tries the old man finally snagged the Appaloosa's trailing reins, but the horse merely pulled him along. Digging in his heels, Pete grabbed the bridle with both hands and hauled back on it. "Whoa, horse. Whoa. Settle down you good-fer-nothin' hay-burner." The horse kept going, and heels of Pete's worn boots dug twin tracks in the dirt. "Leggo o' his neck, dang it! You're gonna choke the beast!" he barked at Matt.

  When the Appaloosa finally steadied and came to a stop, Pete swung on J.T. "Dag nab it, man, don't just stand there laughin' like a fool! Catch your horse!"

  Willa crossed her arms on the top rail of the corral fence and grinned. This was the most fun she'd had in months.

  Both men were ready to call it a day, but Pete wouldn't allow that. He believed in getting right back on a horse after a fall. "Now get back up on them horses and let's see if you can get it right this time."

  Reluctant and grumbling, Matt and J.T. remounted and cantered around the perimeter of the corral, their back-sides slapping leather with each stride.

  "Move with your horse, dammit! Catch his rhythm! I don't wanta see no daylight 'tween your arses an' them saddles. An' keep them heels down!"

  Willa shook her head. Pitiful. Just pitiful.

  Disgusted, she turned away. After stopping by the barn for a bridle, she headed toward the fenced pasture that butted up to the ranch yard. That morning when she'd realized that she wouldn't be riding out with the men, before leaving for Bozeman she had turned Bertha out to graze.

  Tyrone raced up from behind and fell into step beside her.

  "Whacha doin'?"

  Willa gave the boy a sideways glance and kept moving. So far she'd managed to avoid the children except at mealtime. She had no idea how to deal with kids and was uncomfortable around them. "I'm going to saddle my horse and go join the men."

  Tyrone scrambled onto the board fence and looked around at the thirty or so head of horses scattered over the pasture. "Which one's yours?"

  "The black mare with the white star on her forehead." Willa unlatched the gate and stepped inside.

  "What's a mare?"

  "A female horse."

  "Man, you ain't ever gonna catch 'er," he said with cocky certainty. "Uncle J.T.'s still chasing his horse around, an' that's a little bitty ole pen."

  "Yeah, well, I'm not your uncle J.T." She stuck two fingers into her mouth and produced a piercing whistle. The black's head came up and she trotted over to Willa.

  "Hey, cool! How'd you get 'er to do that?"

  "She's my horse. I trained her." Willa patted Bertha's neck and let the mare nuzzle her hand, then slipped the bridle over her head.

  The boy fell into step beside her again as she headed back to the barn. She kept her eyes straight ahead and pretended he wasn't there, but Tyrone was not a child who would be ignored.

  "Will you show me how to train a horse?"

  "You don't have a horse."

  "My momma says I can have one soon as I learn to ride. We're all gonna learn. 'Cept for Debbie. She's just a baby."

  Willa led Bertha into the barn. Tyrone dogged her heels, peppering her with questions about everything he saw. She kept her answers short, almost curt, but that didn't discourage him.

  "Whacha putting that on 'er for?" he asked when Willa positioned the saddle pad on Bertha's back.

  "It protects her hide from chaffing." She slung the saddle over the animal's back, hooked the near stirrup over the horn and began to fasten the cinch. Tyrone crowded in so close to watch the operation he got right under the mare's belly, and she had to yank him back and give him a sharp reprimand. That didn't deter the boy one iota.

  "Will you teach me to ride?"

  "I don't have time. Ask Pete."

  "He's busy teaching Dad and Uncle J.T. They're at it every day. An' he says after that it'll be time for roundup and he'll be busier than a one-armed paperhanger."

  Willa bit back a grin. How many times had she heard Pete use that expression?

  It was true, though. They would all be putting in long hours in the saddle, which meant a constant stream of tack repairs. "Well, I guess you'll just have to wait until summer when spring roundup is over."

  "I can't wait that long. I gotta learn now."

  "What's the rush?"

  "I just gotta, that's all."

  "In that case, you'll have to find someone else."

  Tyrone cocked his head to one side and studied her with disconcerting directness. "Miss Maudie said you'd say no."

  Willa slanted him a look of mild surprise. "You call your mom by her first name?"

  "Sometimes." He skipped ahead of her as she led Bertha back out into the sunshine. "She's not my real mom, you know. My real mom didn't want me. Miss Maudie says that's just 'cause she's a ding addict."

  Willa stopped in her tracks. "What?"

  "Yolanda's folks didn't want her none, either. They dumped her on the side of the highway. An' Jennifer's old man blew away her real mom, an' Debbie was abused. Tim, too." The boy narrowed his eyes. "His old man was one meeean dude. He's the one who shot Matt in the leg."

  "Good Lord."

  "That's why we was all sent to live with Miss Maudie. She'
s a sigh-ki-trist," he added proudly. "She coulda made big bucks if she'd'a wanted to, but she loved kids so she took in fosters like us."

  "Maude Ann's a psychiatrist?" Willa's gaze darted to the woman who was hammering together a chicken coop on the other side of the ranch yard. That gorgeous earth mother was a shrink? She couldn't believe it.

  "Yeah. An' when she married Matt they 'dopted all five of us. Now we're a family and cain't nobody take us away from 'um. An' we got two new uncles and Aunt Kate, too."

  Willa had no idea what to say. How did one respond to such stunning revelations? All she managed was a wan smile.

  Feeling a need to escape those big brown eyes and that disturbing innocent candor, she climbed into the saddle. She'd hoped the boy would take a hint, but Tyrone wasn't finished.

  He shaded his eyes with one hand and squinted up at her. "An' you know what else? Momma says now that we're livin' here, you're part of our family, too."

  "What?" Stunned anew, Willa glanced at Maude Ann again, then back at the boy. "You must have misunderstood her."

  "Nuh-uh. That's what she said." The boy looked down at the ground and scuffed the toe of his athletic shoe in the dirt, then slanted her a sly look out of the corner of his eye. "So, you gonna teach me to ride or not? Momma says family is s'posed to help each other out."

  Willa's mouth twitched. Why you crafty little devil, she thought with reluctant admiration. You almost had me there for a second. "Sorry, kid. Like I said, I'm too busy."

  "Aw, shoot." He kicked a clod of dirt across the yard, then hooked his thumbs into the side pockets of his jeans and trudged away, the picture of dejection.

  Willa watched him for a moment. Pete was right—that one was a pistol.

  * * *

  Zach slung a hundred pound sack of seed into the back of his pickup, then paused to arch his back and glance around. It was only the first of March and snow still covered the ground, but from the number of people in Clear Water it looked as if he wasn't the only one gearing up for spring.

  As he turned to retrieve another sack from the stack piled up next to the door of the ranchers's co-op a red pickup screeched to a stop beside his truck and Lennie Dawson and two other men climbed out. Sparing them no more than a glance, Zach walked by the trio, hefted another sack onto his shoulder and carried it back to the pickup.