Lone Star Bride. Carolyn Davidson
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bring James, or any man, he decided promptly, to attention. Features that might grace a statue formed her face, a trim nose, wide eyes that made his gaze veer back to her again, not to mention her lithe and lissome body that filled out the shirt and trousers she wore in an elegant fashion.
He felt an urge to lay his hands on her, and he turned aside, dousing it firmly. She was marriage material and he wasn’t ready yet. The memory of one girl in his past still haunted him. Loris, his first real love, a girl he had hurt, almost beyond repair. A woman he should have married. Now she was wed to his brother, and he could only ruefully regret his actions that had lost him her love.
He’d do well to keep his hands and his hungry eyes off Alexis. She was trouble.
Chapter Two
The stench of burning hair and the scorched flesh beneath it were familiar to Jamie, but still not welcome. He’d worked hard for two months, branding calves, cutting bullocks and herding cattle. But living with the odor of the branding iron doing its work was something he was not particularly fond of.
Yet, the other men were sweating as much as he, were at least as tired as his weary body proclaimed with aches and pains in every possible muscle he owned. And he would not rest while they labored. According to Hank, he had the right to oversee, observe and direct the work, but Jamie had learned from a master in Missouri, and found that the men respected a foreman more if he knew how to work alongside them, and did so without making a fuss over it.
They’d set up camp at the farthest north end of the ranch, sleeping on the ground, working long hours and striving to finish the job in record time. Jamie had gained the friendship of his men, found them to be loyal and honest, and most of all trustworthy. If one of them said he would do a chore, he did it. No dithering, no excuses, just a job well done.
“You tired, cowboy?” Alexis spoke from behind him as he sat close to the campfire. She’d shown up today, bedroll behind her saddle, and Cookie had told him that it was her usual habit to come in at the end of branding and lend a hand.
The men appreciated her slender form flitting around the camp, laughed at her remarks and seemed to perk up, their aching bodies forgotten for a while, as they worshipped at her feet. Figuratively speaking, of course, but it wasn’t too far a stretch of the imagination to visualize them surrounding her in such a manner.
Now she had approached him, and Jamie swallowed the sharp retort that hovered on his lips. If the girl thought he was the latest in her list of conquests, she was wrong. He’d managed to stay clear of her, and though she tempted him mightily, he’d forged a path that didn’t include dallying with Alexis Powers.
“We’re all tired, Alex,” he said moodily, staring into the smouldering coals before him. “Branding cattle is a hard job and these men have worked for ten days, nonstop.”
“They tell me you’re doing more than your share, Jamie.” She circled him and stood between his spot on the ground and the dying fire. “I suspect Brace Caulfield knew what he was doing when he sent you here. My father sure hasn’t found any fault with you, and that’s a rare one. He can always pick a man apart, given a while to watch him operate. You’ve passed the test, I suspect.”
Jamie nodded, looking up at the challenge that glittered in her eyes. “I’m sure I’m pleased about that, Alex. It’s always nice to gain appreciation for what you do. I’m no exception.”
“Can I sit down by you?” she asked, her voice lowering as though she didn’t want to be overheard.
“Sure. The ground’s kinda hard, but it beats standing there.” He felt a twinge of guilt at his offhanded invitation, but she seemed not to notice his words as anything but welcoming.
With a smooth, almost melting glide, she settled beside him, and he felt himself blinking at her method of movement. She’d gone from standing to sitting cross-legged next to him with one easy bend of legs and body. As if her bones were elastic, her muscles more flexible than was normal. “Graceful” was the word he chose to describe her.
Graceful and lovely. Quite a combination. Certainly enough to tempt a man almost beyond reason. And James Webster was a man. He fought the urge to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her closer. His eyes touched the bridge of her nose, the slope of her cheek and the soft pouting lines of her mouth. Unless he was mightily mistaken, the lady was trying to work her way under his skin.
“You haven’t paid much attention to me,” she said quietly, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, her chin cupped in her hands.
“I didn’t know that was a part of my job. I’d have thought you were wearing a ‘hands off’ sign around your neck, if your father’s attitude was anything to go by. You’re a flirt, Miss Powers, and on top of that I consider you forbidden territory.”
She turned her head and her smile was feline, like a cat who spies a mouse and is contemplating its capture. “I make the rules, Mr. Webster. And in case you’ve forgotten, my name is Alexis.”
“I forget very little, ma’am. I’m well aware of your name. And I’m aware that you’re about the most tempting little piece of womanhood I’ve run across in quite some time.”
“It doesn’t show,” she said flatly. “You’ve gone out of your way to ignore me.”
“Trust me. You don’t want me to pay any mind to you. I play for keeps.”
“For keeps? And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not sixteen years old, ma’am. I’m a full-grown man, with all the right equipment to enjoy myself with a woman. I don’t do things halfway. If you hang around me very long, you’re likely to find yourself in a heap of trouble.”
Alexis laughed, a buoyant sound that pleased him, and tempted him mightily.
“Do I look worried? You won’t be the first man to try frightening me. I learned a long time ago that men were only little boys, grown up. The only difference is that you’re bigger than I am, stronger and probably able to pick me up with one hand. All of that aside, I’m a woman who knows her own mind, and the fact that I sat down here to talk to you doesn’t make me available to you. Not in any other way than that of a friend.”
“You think I can pick you up in one hand?” He’d caught that part of her speech, smiled to himself as he gauged her height and weight and decided she was right. If she weighed much over a hundred pounds, he’d be surprised. And her height brought her just to his chin, probably an inch or two over five feet. A womanly little package indeed, with much to offer a man.
“Yeah, I do,” she answered, laughing again. “I’ve seen you roping and rassling calves to the ground, and a couple of good-sized bullocks, too. I’ll bet you’re a tough customer to cross, James Webster. And I have no intention of taking you on.”
“Don’t you, now?” he asked softly, looking down at her profile, at the line of her chin, her clasped hands beneath it, at the small dip at the bridge of her nose, not noticeable from the front view, but intriguing from where he was sitting.
She looked at him, a quick flash of green eyes, and sat up straight, her head lifting as if she scented something that appealed to her. “I’m no dummy, James. You’ve been around, I’ll bet. You’ve probably had women from here to yonder and back, and I’m not about to be added to your list.”
“How about adding me to your list, then?” he asked bluntly. “I understand that you’ve had the men here lined up for a smile from you for a long time now.”
“Who on earth told you that?” she asked, seeming indignant at his words.
“My boss. Said that you were the most popular creature on this ranch. Told me that all the hands were vying for your attention.”
“And have you seen me leading anyone on?” she asked smartly. “Do I come across as a woman of dubious virtue?”
Jamie grinned at her. “No, I’d