The Rancher and the Runaway Bride and The Bluest Eyes in Texas Part 6

Tate worked hard all day in the office so she wouldn't have time to worry about where Adam had gone. He was bound to turn up sooner or later. He wasn't going anywhere. And neither was she.

However, by seven o'clock that evening there was still no sign of Adam. He hadn't even called Maria to say he wouldn't be home for dinner. Maria was was.h.i.+ng up the dinner dishes, and to keep herself busy, Tate was drying them and putting them away. Maria had tried to start a conversation, but Tate was too distracted to keep track of what she was saying. Finally Maria gave up trying and left Tate to her thoughts.

Tate was worried. Where could Adam have gone? She had already checked once at the bunkhouse, but no one had seen him all day.

When she heard a knock at the kitchen door, Tate leaped to answer it. It wasn't until she opened the door that she realized Adam wouldn't have knocked.

"Buck! You look terrible. What's wrong?"

Buck pulled his hat off his head and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "Um, I, um."

She put a hand on his arm and urged him inside the room. "Come in. Sit down."

He resisted her efforts to move him from his spot just inside the kitchen door. "No, I-"

"You what?" Tate asked in exasperation.

"I need your help."

"Of course, anything."

"Maybe you better not say yes until you hear what I have to say." He eyed Maria, but was too polite to ask her to leave.

Aware of the tension in the cowboy, Maria said, "I give you some time alone, so you can talk," and left the room. But she made up her mind she wouldn't be gone for long. The nice senorita, she was good for Senor Adam. It would not do to let cowboys like Buck Magnesson take what should not be theirs.

Tate turned a kitchen chair and sat in it like a saddle. "I'm all ears."

Buck fidgeted with the brim of his hat another moment before he said, "I've thought a lot about our conversation last night. You know, about whether or not I could forgive and forget what Velma did? And, well...I believe I can."

A smile spread on Tate's face. "I'm so glad, Buck."

"Yeah, well, that's why I need your help. I've decided to go see Velma and tell her how I feel, and I thought maybe if you were along to sort of referee-"

Tate was up and across the room in an instant. She gave the startled cowboy a big hug. "It'll be my pleasure. When would you like to go see her?"

Buck grinned. "Is right now too soon?"

Tate thought about leaving a note for Adam, then rejected the idea. It would do him good to know how it felt to worry about someone who didn't leave a message where he was going!

Maria heard the kitchen door slam closed and came back in to see what Senor Buck had wanted. She frowned and clucked her tongue in dismay when she realized that Senorita Tate had left the house with the handsome cowboy. "Senor Adam will not like this. He will not like this at all."

Maria made up her mind to stay until Senor Adam got back from wherever he had gone and tell him what had happened. Then he could go find the senorita and bring her home where she belonged.

Meanwhile, Buck drove Tate to a tiny house with gingerbread trim in a quiet neighborhood off Main Street in Uvalde. She waited anxiously with him to see if Velma was going to answer the doorbell.

Tate saw the light in Velma's green eyes when she saw Buck, and watched it die when she realized Tate was with him.

"I want to talk to you, Velma," Buck said.

"I don't think we have anything to say to each other." She nearly had the door closed when Buck stuck his boot in it.

"I'm not leaving until I say my piece," Buck insisted in a harsh voice.

"I'll call the police if you don't go away," Velma threatened.

"I just want to talk!"

When Velma let go of the door to run for the phone, Buck and Tate took advantage of the opportunity to come inside. Buck caught Velma in the kitchen and pried the phone receiver out of her hand.

"Please, baby, just listen to me," he pleaded.

"Please give him a chance, Velma. I know you're going to want to hear what Buck has to say."

Velma froze when she heard Tate's voice. "Why did you come here?" she demanded.

"Buck thought it might make it easier for the two of you to talk if there was someone else here to sort of mediate."

Velma looked at Buck's somber face. She took a deep breath and said, "All right. I'll listen to what you have to say. For five minutes."

Buck set her down, letting her body slide along his as he did. Tate could have lit a fire from the sparks that flew between them. They belonged together, all right. She only hoped Buck would find the right words to convince Velma he meant what he said.

Five minutes later, Velma was still listening, but Tate could see she was torn between the fervent wish to believe Buck, and the awful fear that he would soon regret what he was saying.

"I don't think I'll ever forget what happened, Velma," Buck said. "But I think I can live with it."

That wasn't exactly the same thing as forgiving it, Tate realized. Apparently Velma also noticed the distinction.

"That's not good enough, Buck," she said in a quiet voice.

"I love you, Velma," he said.

She choked on a sob. "I know, Buck. I love you, too."

"Then why can't we get back together?"

"It just wouldn't work."

By now Velma was crying in earnest, and Buck would have been heartless indeed if he could have resisted pulling her into his arms to comfort her. In fact, that was just what he did.

Tate suddenly realized another reason why she had been brought along. Her presence provided the only restraint on the s.e.xual explosion that occurred whenever the two of them touched. Even that wasn't sufficient at first.

Buck already had his fingers twined in Velma's red curls, and Velma had her hand on the front of Buck's jeans when Tate cleared her throat loudly to remind them that she was still there. They broke apart like two teenagers caught necking, their faces flushed as much by embarra.s.sment as by pa.s.sion.

"Uh, sorry," Buck said.

Velma tried rearranging her hair, a hopeless task considering how badly Buck had messed it up.

"You look fine, honey," Buck said, taking a hand at smoothing her tresses himself. But the gesture turned into a caress, which turned into a fervent look of desire, which ended when Buck's lips lowered to Velma's in the gentlest of kisses.

There was no telling where things might have gone from there, except Tate said, "All right, enough is enough! We'll never get anywhere this way. Buck, you go sit over there in that chair. Velma and I will sit on the couch."

Sheepishly, Buck crossed the room and slouched down in the chair Tate had indicated. Tate joined Velma on the couch. She dragged her T-s.h.i.+rt out of her jeans and used it to dab at Velma's tears.

"Now it seems to me," Tate began, "that you both want to give this relations.h.i.+p another try. So I have a suggestion."

Tate outlined for them a plan whereby they would start from scratch. Buck would pick Velma up at her door, they would go out together and he would return her at the end of the evening. Absolutely no s.e.x.

"You have to learn to trust each other again," she said. "That takes time."

Buck's face had taken on a mulish cast. "I'm not sure I can play by those rules. Especially that 'no s.e.x' part."

It wasn't hard to see why. The s.e.xual electricity between them would have killed a normal person.

"No s.e.x," Tate insisted. "If you spend all your time in bed, you won't do as much talking. And you both have a lot you need to talk about."

Tate chewed anxiously on her lower lip while she waited to see whether they would accept her suggestion.

"I think Tate's right," Velma said.

The negotiations didn't end there. In fact it wasn't until the wee hours of the morning that all parties were satisfied. Tate felt as emotionally exhausted as she knew Buck and Velma were. The hug Velma gave her as she was leaving, and the whispered "Thank you" from the other woman, made everything worthwhile.

Tate rubbed the tense muscles in her neck as Buck drove her back to the ranch. She knew Buck was still troubled, but at least now there was some hope that he and his ex-wife might one day end up together again.

When they arrived at the front door to Adam's house, Buck took Tate's hand in his and said, "I don't know how to thank you."

"Just be good to Velma. That'll be thanks enough for me."

He ruffled her hair as an older brother might, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "You're a good friend, Tate. If I can ever do anything for you, just let me know."

"I'll remember that," Tate said. "You don't need to get out. I can let myself in."

Buck waited until she was inside the front door before he drove his truck around to the bunkhouse.

Tate had only taken two steps when the living room lights clicked on. Adam stood at the switch, his face a granite mask of displeasure.

"Where were you?" Tate accused. "I waited for you for hours, but you never came home!"

Adam was taken aback, since he had intended to ask the same question. "Dr. Kowalski had a medical emergency with one of my former patients. Susan asked me to come because Mrs. Daniels was frightened, and she thought the old lady would respond better if I was there."

"I knew it had to be something important," Tate said with a sigh of relief. "Were you able to help?"

"Yes, Mrs. Daniels is out of danger now."

Adam suddenly realized that Tate had completely distracted him from the confrontation he had planned. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decide whether she had done it on purpose.

"Where have you been all night?" he asked in a cool voice. "Do you realize it's four a.m.?"

"Is it really that late? I mean, that early," Tate said with a laugh. "I was out with Buck. Oh, Adam-"

He cut her off with a snarl of disgust as she confirmed his worst suspicions. "I don't suppose I have to ask what you were doing, little girl. If you were that anxious to lose your virginity you should have told me. You didn't have to drag Buck into the picture."

Tate was aghast. "You think Buck and I-"

"What am I supposed to think when you come rolling in at this unG.o.dly hour of the morning with your T-s.h.i.+rt hanging out and your hair mussed up and your lower lip swollen like it's been bitten a dozen times."

"There's a perfectly logical-"

"I don't want to hear any excuses! Do you deny that you spent the night with Buck?"

"No, but something wonderful happened-"

"I don't want to hear the gory details!"

He was shouting by now, and Tate knew that if she had been any closer Adam might not have been able to control the visible anger that shook his body.

"Get out of my sight!" he said in hard, quiet voice. "Before I do something I'll regret."

Tate put her chin up. If this fool would give her a chance, she could explain everything! But her pride goaded her to remain silent. Adam was neither father nor brother. Yet he seemed determined to fill the role of protector. She felt the tears that threatened. Why couldn't he see that she only had eyes for one man-and that man was him!

"Some folks can't see any farther than the steam from their own pot of stew." With that p.r.o.nouncement, she turned and stalked from the room.

Once Tate was gone, Adam swore a blue streak. When he was done, he felt worse instead of better. He had hoped he was wrong about what Tate and Buck had been doing out so late. He had been stunned when Tate hadn't denied losing her virginity to the cowboy. He felt absolute, uncontrollable rage at the thought of some other man touching her in ways he knew she had never been touched. And the thought that she had found it wonderful caused an unbearable tightness in his chest.

He tried to tell himself that what had happened was for the best. He was not a whole man. She deserved more. But nothing he said to himself took away the bitter taste in his mouth. She was his. She belonged to him.

And by G.o.d, now that her virginity was no longer an impediment, he would have her.

Chapter 6.

SUDDENLY IT WAS ADAM who became the pursuer and Tate who proved elusive. She gave him the cold shoulder whenever she met him and made a point of smiling and recklessly flirting with Buck. Because of the way Buck's courts.h.i.+p was prospering with Velma, he had the look of a happy, well-satisfied man. Which left Adam seething with jealousy.

Tate suspected she could lift the thundercloud that followed Adam around if she simply told him the truth about what she had been doing the night she had spent with Buck. But she was determined that Adam would be the one to make the first move toward conciliation. All he had done for the past week was glare daggers at her.

However, there was more than anger reflected in his gaze, more than antagonism in his att.i.tude toward her. Tate was beginning to feel frazzled by the unspoken s.e.xual tension that sizzled between them. Something had changed since the night they had argued, and Tate felt the hairs lift on her arms whenever Adam was around. His look was hungry. His body radiated leashed power. His features were harsh with unsatisfied need. She had the uneasy feeling he was stalking her.

Tate escaped into the office by day, and played mediator for Buck and Velma at night. She refused to admit that she was hiding from Adam, but that was the case. His eyes followed her whenever they were in the same room together, and she knew he must be aware of her reaction to his disconcerting gaze.

Exactly one week from the day Tate had accompanied Buck on his pivotal visit to Velma, the cowboy took Tate aside and asked whether she minded staying home that evening instead of joining them as chaperon.

"There are some things I'd like to discuss with Velma alone," Buck said.