A Measure Of Love. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ shifts around the clock checking on the cows and mares to see how they’re doing.”

      She watched as shadows and light emphasized certain planes of his exhausted features. “Calving?”

      He gave her a long look. “You really are a city girl, aren’t you?”

      “Is it a sin?”

      “No. It’s just that–”

      “What?”

      Rafe grimaced. “You look wild and free. Like that picture you carry in your wallet of that mustang.”

      She smiled softly, pleased by his compliment because she had never expected anything like it from him. “Thank you.” She touched her hair. “I think it’s my mane of hair that gives me that look.”

      His face grew still, and longing briefly showed in his eyes. “You have beautiful hair.”

      A shiver flowed through Jessie, and she stood transfixed by the sudden flame she saw in his dark eyes. His voice was like melting butter, and she felt an ache begin deep within her. What was happening? She had to get a hold on herself. “Th-thank you.”

      Seeing her sudden shyness, Rafe changed the subject. “Why were you up?”

      Jessie breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing his casual drawl again. “I had a bad dream about the accident. Doctor Miller said I might have a few afterward. Something about trauma, or whatever.”

      “I see. Did Doc Miller say anything about giving you some apricot brandy?”

      “Why–no.”

      “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

      Jessie watched him disappear around the corner. One moment he could be so hard and cold, and the next, almost gentle with concern. The man was confusing. She rubbed her arms with her hands, suddenly aware of the night chill in the house.

      Rafe came back as silently as he had left; only this time Jessie was prepared for his approach. He held out the shot glass filled with amber contents. “Apricot brandy. My sister Dal would sometimes have a shot before going to bed. She went through a pretty traumatic divorce a couple of years ago and said it always helped her when she had problems going to sleep sometimes.”

      Their fingers touched as she took the small glass, and both withdrew quickly, as if the contact had been electric. “I wish a shot of brandy could have helped my marriage,” she finally said in jest, sipping the liquid cautiously.

      “I’m afraid it’s not a miracle cure. Down it all in one gulp,” he advised.

      She looked at him doubtingly, but followed his instructions. The fire hit her stomach, and she took in a deep breath. “Now I see why it would help her sleep,” she whispered hoarsely, handing him the glass.

      Rafe managed a slight smile. “Yeah, that’s over hundred-proof homemade brandy. You’d better get going, or you won’t make it to bed before that hits you. Come on, I’ll walk you down the hall.” Although there was no real reason to reach out and slide his hand beneath her elbow, he did it, anyway. Merely a precaution, he told himself as he guided her down the hall, extremely conscious of her delicacy next to his large frame.

      “How much do you weigh?” he asked.

      “A hundred and three pounds.”

      He chuckled. “You’re nothing but a feather.”

      “Don’t let my size deceive you,” she warned him with amusement in her voice.

      Rafe halted and opened the door to her bedroom. Reluctantly he dropped his hand from her elbow as she turned and faced him. “There’s an old Western saying: never underestimate a banty rooster.”

      “What does that mean?”

      He smiled as she fearlessly looked up at him, the darkness playing across her soft features. Rafe wanted to reach across the inches that separated them and slide his fingers across her hair. For those precious few seconds, he realized that he was actually happy. Happy. An emotion, a feeling, that had died two years before, with Mary Ann. He scowled, unable to cope with the discovery and Jessie’s nearness. “I’ll tell you about it some other time,” he muttered.

      “Well, we’ll see how much talking you’ll do to me tomorrow morning after I tell you about the reason why I’m here,” Jessie said in just as somber a tone. She saw the longing in his eyes, and pain. Somehow, she wanted to erase whatever Rafe was carrying around inside him. “Good night, Rafe. And thank you for the brandy. I think it’s doing its job.”

      He watched her turn and enter the bedroom. Frowning, he quietly shut the door and headed down the hall to the study.

      * * *

      Sunlight was streaming through the bedroom windows when Jessie awoke. Swathed in the large robe, she went in search of the housekeeper. When she entered the kitchen, she found Millie hard at work kneading bread on the table.

      “Good morning,” Jessie murmured.

      “Morning.” Millie turned and smiled, then resumed the kneading, flour staining her hands and wrists. “Rafe said to let you sleep in. Said you were up late last night.”

      Jessie rubbed her eyes, still drugged from the good eight hours of rest. “He told you about that?”

      Millie tittered. “Said you about jumped out of your skin when he found you in the living room. Let me get this dough in the pans, and then I’ll fix you breakfast.”

      “Please, don’t go to the trouble.”

      Millie arched an eyebrow. “You ain’t trouble. Rafe had one of his men get your luggage from the car. It’s sitting right inside the bathroom between your two rooms. Why don’t you get a nice hot bath, dress and then join me out in the dining room? Doc Miller said to feed you good.”

      Smiling widely, Jessie said, “You’re a dear. I won’t be long.”

      “Now, don’t go hurrying. There’s no reason to. Rafe ain’t gonna be back until noon. That’s three hours from now. He said you were lookin’ mighty peaked last night. And Doc told you to rest today.”

      Smiling, Jessie trailed out of the kitchen. At the entrance, she stopped and turned to Millie. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a good mother?”

      The housekeeper beamed, her apple-red cheeks shining. “Ask Rafe and those two sisters of his, and they’ll tell you they had two mamas–their real one and me. Now scat! I’ll see you in a little while.”

      * * *

      Jessie stood at the rear porch window, watching the activity in the back of the ranch house. She had finished a huge breakfast of whole-wheat pancakes, maple syrup and fresh fruit earlier. Millie had stuffed her like the proverbial turkey. Now, her curiosity of ranch life held her in its magical embrace. Mesmerized, she watched as the wranglers, mounted on small, delicate Arabians, moved bawling cattle from holding pens. She almost couldn’t contain her excitement. Finally, after twenty-eight years, she was getting to see real cowboys at work on ranch horses!

      “You СКАЧАТЬ