The Kincaid Bride Page 10

  Her bawdy sense of humor and infectious giggle made Eli grin. “Let me tell you something, cutie. If I’m crazy, it’s your fault. Before you came along, I was a sane and sensible man.”

  “Oh, so you think I’m cute?”

  Eli’s grin vanished completely. “What I think is that you’re the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. And even though I know that you’re trouble with a capital T and that I should never lay a hand on you again, I can’t stop thinking about making love with you on the grass at Dove Lake.”

  A wave of feverish longing flared in the pit of Melanie’s stomach and radiated from there to every cell of her body. It was a lovemaking sort of day—rainy outside, cozy inside. At least it felt cozy now that she wasn’t alone. Melanie took a few steps in Eli’s direction.

  “It’s been a long and lonely morning,” she said breathlessly. “I bet we could think of something to do to liven it up a bit.”

  Eli was suddenly scared spitless. Letting his hands drop to his sides, he stepped away from the refrigerator as though he’d figured out her plan to trap him there. Whatever her plan, though, he knew in his soul that falling for Melanie Kincaid would be a grave mistake. As sexy as she was, she wasn’t a woman to dillydally around with and then forget about. She was his boss’s granddaughter, and his job was the most important thing he had. He would never return to Baltimore and his family, but neither did he want to go anywhere else. He had come to love Montana and was contented living on the Kincaid ranch. Or he had been until Melanie’s arrival.

  “Uh, I’m sure we could,” he said. “How about a nice lunch together and then a game of cards? Do you play cribbage? Or gin rummy?”

  Melanie’s jaw dropped. She’d just offered him her body and he wanted to play cards? And hadn’t he said but a minute ago that he never stopped thinking about their lovemaking by the lake? What was wrong with him?

  And then she knew. He was afraid of getting in too deep with her. The wretched man probably thought she was trying to lure him into marriage! As if!

  Smiling sweetly—boy, was he going to pay for that insult!—she said that his plans sounded simply marvelous. Then, making sure she got close enough to him for her skirt to float against his legs and the subtle scent of her perfume to invade his next breath, she dodged around him and opened the refrigerator. “Now, what’s the most tempting tidbit in this kitchen?” she said, deliberately sounding as though she was talking to herself. She glanced at Eli, who appeared to be a man in great pain, and smiled again. “How hungry are you, Eli?”

  He swallowed awkwardly and mumbled, “Starved.”

  While the Elk Springs area enjoyed a normal spring rainfall, the Whitehorn area was under siege by rain so dense it wasn’t safe to drive. Garrett had decided to delay their departure until it let up some, and he and Collin waited for a break in the weather in the Whitehorn ranch’s main house, where they had stayed the past few days while touring the ranch.

  They were alone because last night Garrett had told both Wayne and Rand Harding, the ranch foreman, that he and Collin would be leaving early in the morning. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, and you should be home with your families.”

  And so Garrett and Collin paced the old mansion like two caged lions, peering out windows and grimacing at the ongoing storm.

  “Maybe I should give Melanie a call,” Collin suggested. “She’s probably expecting us back soon, and we could be stuck here for hours yet.”

  “Good idea, Collin,” Garrett agreed. “Tell your sister we’ll be home as soon as possible and ask her if it’s raining there. We don’t need a deluge like this one, but we could use some rain, that’s certain.”

  But when Collin picked up the phone to place the call, there was no dial tone. “The phone’s dead,” he told Garrett. “Must be the storm.”

  “Then we can’t even call Wayne,” Garrett said with a rather disgruntled frown. “Well, we might as well look around the house again while we’re waiting.”

  “We’ve already seen it all.”

  “If you’re not interested, just stay put and keep an eye on the storm. I’m going to do a little wandering.” Garrett left the large parlor and headed for the staircase and the second floor. He’d seen something in what had once been Jeremiah’s room that he’d like a closer look at. It was a photo album, one that pages had been added to until it was about eight inches thick, and Garrett suspected it contained family pictures.

  He sat in a chair by the window—and still needed to turn on a lamp—with the huge album on his lap and began turning pages. The first section contained very old black-and-white photos without names or titles, and Garrett recognized no one. But instinct told him he was looking at pictures of his own ancestors. He knew what family history had been passed down through the generations—he and Wayne had discussed everything each had been told quite thoroughly—and he wished he could pick out certain people.

  Caleb Kincaid, Garrett’s grandfather, for instance, and his sons and heirs to one of the richest spreads in Blue River County, Zeke, Garrett’s uncle, and Barton, his father. In the mid-1920s, when Montana was little more than a rough western territory, Zeke and Barton had started feuding. Zeke had been fair-haired and blue-eyed like his father and generations of Kincaids before him; Bart’s hair had been black and straight, and he’d had dark brown eyes and skin. Zeke had believed that his younger brother was the product of his father’s philandering with a Cheyenne woman and therefore not a true Kincaid.

  Bart was not yet eighteen when their father died, Zeke being eight years older. That was when the trouble really began. Eventually, Zeke drove his brother away and they had never seen each other again.

  Sitting in that chair, looking at those old photos and thinking of the past, Garrett felt a sense of pride swell in his breast. He recalled his father Bart’s dark good looks and gentle personality, and if he had truly inherited those attributes from a Cheyenne mother, a woman named Ruth Whitefeather, then God bless her.

  And could he doubt the veracity of the story? Garrett’s hair was white now, but it had once been as black as his father’s. He wasn’t ashamed of his Native American blood, either. On the contrary, he was proud of it, proud of his father and proud of his birth mother, who had given Bart to his father, Caleb, to raise as an Anglo.

  The old stories included some of Ruth Whitefeather’s fate after that. As she had agreed with Caleb, she had no contact with Barton but watched from a distance as he grew into a privileged young man. She had suffered shame and humiliation for having an Anglo child out of wedlock, but she’d felt that her son’s comfortable upbringing and eventual riches would make up for anything she went through.

  But then she’d learned that her son had been cheated out of his inheritance by his own brother, and with a mother’s rage she had drawn upon strong Cheyenne magic. The Kincaid ranch had been cursed, destined to bring unhappiness, death and destruction to any who sought wealth there.

  Garrett stopped to ponder that curse. Was it the reason so much tragedy had occurred on this beautiful ranch? He had never been a superstitious man, but even so, he couldn’t deny that there were many unexplainable things between heaven and earth.

  Sighing, he turned another page in the album.

  Ostensibly searching for a deck of cards, Melanie pushed three boxes to the back of a drawer, smiled at Eli, who was waiting for her to locate some, and opened another drawer. She threw up her hands.

  “Eli, I’ve looked everywhere and there just aren’t any cards in this house.”

  “I guess I could go get some from the bunkhouse.”

  Melanie’s heart skipped a beat. “I suppose you could, but it’s pouring rain and you’d get soaked, and—”

  “My slicker is hanging in the mudroom.”

  “Oh. Well, do what you want,” she said with very little enthusiasm. “But let me warn you that I know nothing at all about cribbage and I’ve only played gin rummy a few times.”

  They were so alone, Eli realized. Alone in the ho
use, alone on the ranch. The word rarity would be an understatement. Someone was always there, and of course, he could consider that there was someone there today, as well. Only it wasn’t just him and one of the men, it was him and the most exquisitely sensual woman ever created. What’s more, she had unabashedly let him know—again—that she found him outrageously attractive, the same as he felt for her.

  And Garrett could only fire him once.

  “Well,” he said softly, “maybe we can find something a little more exciting than a game of cards to pass the time.”

  Melanie’s system went on full alert. “I believe I voiced that very opinion before we ate lunch.”

  “I believe you did.” Eli took her hand and led her to the living room. “How about a little music? That radio looks pretty old, but it might still work.”

  “Let’s find out.” Melanie looked at the old-fashioned knobs and figured out which ones did what. Turning on the radio, she fiddled with the tuning knob until she found a static-free station. It was playing beautiful, dreamy, semi-classical music. “Well, it ain’t Garth or Willie,” she drawled, “but I like it.”

  “So do I. Come here and dance with me.” Eli held up his arms.

  “Dance? Now there’s a surprise.” Surprised or not, Melanie walked straight into Eli’s arms.

  The second she was up against him she knew he was sexually aroused. She didn’t make any attempt whatsoever to put space between them. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body even closer to his.

  They barely moved their feet. Looking into each other’s eyes, they held nothing back and wantonly rubbed against each other. Eli lowered his head and feathered kisses to her face, and she closed her eyes and savored every moment.

  “You’re very sexy,” she whispered huskily. “I think we—you and I—have some kind of unusual chemical imbalance. I mean, your chemistry overpowers mine…or something like that.”

  “You’re the one with the overpowering chemistry. I don’t even know who I am when I’m holding you like this.”

  “I feel the same with you.” Rising on tiptoe, she put her lips a mere breath from his and whispered, “Kiss me for real.”

  He did, kissing her hungrily, throwing caution to the winds, doing everything he’d been aching to do since their first intimate encounter at Dove Lake. Working up her skirt, he caressed her thighs and hips. It wasn’t enough.

  “Baby…sweetheart…Melanie…I want you naked,” he said raggedly.

  “Me, too. Oh, me, too!”

  They moved apart and began tearing at their own clothes, watching the other undress while getting naked themselves. Then they rushed to each other again, both gasping at the delight of bare skin against bare skin. Their kisses had them panting for air and groping each other’s feverishly hot body in seconds.

  “This is even better than the first time,” Eli whispered thickly in her ear.

  “I know…I know,” she moaned. “The sofa! Let me lie on the sofa and you—”

  “I know what to do. Don’t worry about that.”

  She lay on her back and Eli followed her down, sliding into her velvety depths at the same time. Totally lost in the magic of flawless sex, Melanie was only vaguely aware of the music coming from the radio, and yet it was part of the moment. As was the rain and the gloomy, pewterlike quality of the room. She could sense that final glorious bolt of lightning getting closer, and she clung to her lover as though she would never set him free.

  “Oh, Eli…Eli,” she cried. “I’m almost there. Don’t stop…please don’t stop.” Then she froze. Someone had slammed a door. Someone was in the house! “Stop…stop,” she whispered, and pushed against Eli’s shoulders.

  “Wha-what’s wrong?”

  “Didn’t you hear? Someone came in. Oh, my God, it’s Collin and Granddad. I can hear them talking in the kitchen.”

  “Melanie!”

  “That’s Granddad! He’s looking for me. Oh, Lord! Eli, hurry and get dressed.”

  Eli jumped up and began scrambling for his clothes. Melanie rushed over to her skirt and picked it up off the floor. And then, in the very next moment, Garrett was standing in the doorway with an expression of utter disbelief.

  Melanie jerked the skirt up in front of her, and Eli yanked on his jeans. A glance around the room horrified her. There was her bra in plain sight, her panties, Eli’s briefs. There was no use pretending that this was anything but what it was—the most humiliating experience of her life. She couldn’t even speak, couldn’t say she was sorry, because nothing she could ever say would erase this scene from Garrett’s memory.

  Or from her own. Sick at heart, she watched the disbelief on her grandfather’s face become something else, something unreadable but frightening.

  “Get dressed, both of you,” he said in a hard, distant voice that brooked no argument. Turning then, he walked away and left them alone.

  “What do you think he’s going to do to us?” Melanie whispered while she hurriedly threw on her clothes.

  “He probably won’t do anything to you, but I’m sure my job is history.”

  “Oh, no! He wouldn’t really fire you, would he?”

  “Damn right he would.” He shot Melanie a disgusted look. “And I knew that would be the outcome if he found out about us. That’s the worst part of it. So why in hell didn’t I keep my pants on? Out by the lake was bad enough, but we both knew he was coming back today. Instead of using my head and getting the hell out of here after grabbing something to eat, I asked you to dance. And I knew where it would lead because that was what I wanted to happen!”

  “Well, so did I,” Melanie hissed. “It’s not all your fault.”

  “I doubt if that’s going to be much comfort when I’m out on my butt and looking for another job.”

  “I’ll beg him not to fire you. I will, Eli. It wouldn’t be fair for you to receive all the punishment.”

  Eli’s lips twisted cynically. “Actually, baby doll, it wouldn’t be fair for me to receive any of the punishment. This whole mess is your fault, and you know it, too, don’t you?”

  Melanie flushed. “I believe it takes two to tango!”

  “Yeah, but there weren’t two until you came along. And don’t tell me you didn’t shake that pretty butt of yours in my face every chance you got, because I know better.”

  “You know? You know? As far as I’m concerned, you don’t know your ear from a hole in the ground, you big jerk!” Fully dressed by then, Melanie flounced out of the room. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Garrett leaning against the wall near the door of his office.

  He beckoned her with his hand and said gruffly, “Bring Eli with you. I’ll be at my desk.”

  Melanie’s heart sank clear to her toes. Eli came up behind her. “What’d he say?”

  “To bring you with me to his office.”

  “This is it, then,” Eli said grimly.

  She caught Eli’s sleeve as he tried to get around her. “Eli, I…I’m scared.”

  “Don’t worry, he’s not going to do anything to you. You’re a grown woman and you can leave anytime you want. Besides, he’s blaming me, which I’d probably be doing, too, if I were in his shoes. Let go,” he said with a glance at her hand clutching his sleeve. “I’d just as soon get this over with.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Suit yourself.” Eli began walking toward the office door, striding like a man who was unafraid of anything, even of Garrett Kincaid’s justified wrath. Admiring Eli’s courage but quaking in her own shoes, Melanie followed at a slower pace.

  Eight

  Wishing she had never set foot in Montana and fighting desperately to maintain some semblance of dignity, Melanie entered the office about five seconds behind Eli. As promised, Garrett was seated at his desk. His brow was furrowed, aging him, reminding Melanie that her only living grandparent was past seventy.

  She wanted to cry. The urge was a lump in her throat and an ache in her heart. Tears stung the backs of
her eyes, but she absolutely would not let them escape and embarrass herself in front of Eli. For some reason, she didn’t want Eli to see that she was no stronger than the weakest woman alive when it came to family controversy, and she stood stiffly until Garrett said, “Sit down. Both of you.”

  Eli waited until Melanie had sat before he did. Melanie expected to hear a lecture about how strongly her grandfather disapproved of loose morals, especially in a woman, especially in his granddaughter, especially in his own house. She knew Eli was expecting to get fired, and so they sat, the two of them, guilty as sin itself but willing to hear Garrett out without sass or argument because of their respect and affection for the older man.

  Thus Garrett’s first words surprised Melanie. “Eli, are you an honorable man?”

  Eli sent Melanie a quizzical glance. “Yes, sir, I’ve always believed so.”

  “Fine. Then you’ll have no objections. Melanie, are you an honorable woman?”

  “Uh…I…I guess so.” What on earth is that kind of question leading up to?

  “You’re not positive?”

  Melanie squared her shoulders. “I’ve never thought of myself as dishonorable.”

  “In that case, you will not object to my plan.”

  Melanie and Eli exchanged nervous glances. This was not going as they’d supposed. Where were the lectures, the anger?

  Garrett rose to his feet. “We’re driving to Missoula. Collin is coming with us. I just talked to my friend, Judge Joseph Briggs. After hearing the shocking facts behind my request, he agreed to marry you tonight. He will have the license ready and waiting at his home.”

  Melanie found her voice first. “Marry us! Granddad—”

  “Please don’t tell me you made love with Eli under this roof without being in love with him, Melanie. Marriage is the only acceptable solution for people so much in love that they don’t even seek privacy for their more, uh, shall we call them elemental urges?”