Honey and the Hired Hand

Five

Jesse had known he was heading into deep water the first time he touched Honey Farrell. But it had been impossible to ignore the woman. There was something about her that called to him. He had no business getting involved with anyone, not with the life he led. Yet he hadn't been able to control the desire for her that rocked him whenever she was near. His attraction to her was as strong now, three weeks after he had first laid eyes on her, as it had been that first night. Once having tasted Honey, having touched her, it was an exercise of will to keep his distance from her.

He had been a fool to take that room off the kitchen. He could have found a way to steal General without arousing suspicion even if he were living in the barn. It was rough enough seeing Honey every morning for breakfast, without knowing that he didn't have the right to hold her the way he wanted.

As it turned out, he had ended up seeking out the room in the barn at odd times-like now- for the privacy it offered him. Jesse crossed his arms behind his head and lay back on the bunk. The room offered few amenities. The bed was hard and the walls were unadorned wooden slats. It smelled always of leather and hay. But at least here he could get away from her to think. Right now he had a lot to think about.

Something had happened this morning that he wasn't sure he wanted to remember, but he was quite sure he would never forget.

He had woken at the break of dawn, since he and Honey had agreed that he should have use of the bathroom first each morning. As he climbed the stairs wearing no more than jeans and socks, scratching his bare chest, he distinctly heard the water running. He had wondered what Honey was doing up so early. Over the past three weeks she had kept her bedroom door closed until he had bathed and shaved and headed back downstairs to make coffee. Then she would bathe and join him to finish making breakfast before the boys awoke.

Jesse had been curious enough about the change in routine to continue to the bathroom door. He knocked, but there was no answer.

"Honey?"

When she didn't respond, he tried the door. It wasn't locked, so he cautiously opened it. He wasn't sure what he expected, but what he found was disturbing.

Water was lapping at the edge of the tub, threatening to overflow. Honey was lying back with her nape against the edge of the tub. Her face was angled away from him. Her hair was wet and slicked back to reveal the plane of her jaw. In the steam-fogged room she provided an almost ethereal vision. He stood transfixed, staring at her.

"Honey?"

Concerned when there was still no response he stepped forward and knelt beside the tub. He gasped at his first glorious sight of her naked ' body. Before desire could take hold, he caught sight of her face, frozen in a mask of agony. Certain that something was seriously wrong, he rose to shut off the water and in the same deft move reached for a towel to wrap around her.

When he lifted her from the water, her eyes remained closed. Her face was frozen in a tragic pose like some marble statue. He picked her up in his arms and, rather than stay in the steamy room, headed for the open door down the hall that led to her bedroom. She offered no resistance, which made him even more concerned. Once inside, he shoved the door closed with his shoulder and carried her over to the canopied bed.

He wondered if her husband had slept with her in this frilly room, but decided she must have redone it since his death. It was a feminine place now, with the lace canopy overhead and lace curtains at the windows. It smelled of some flower, which he finally identified as the same honeysuckle scent he had breathed so often in the bathroom.

He tried to lay her on the bed but she grasped him around the neck, refusing to let go. He sat down on the bed and pulled her farther into his arms.

It was then that he realized she was crying. Sobbing, actually. Only there was no sound, just the heaving of her body and the closed, distorted features on her face.

"It's all right," he crooned. "You're all right. I'm here now."

Her grip tightened around his neck and her nose nuzzled against his throat. She moaned once, and the silent sobbing began again.

Jesse felt his throat swell with emotion. His arms tightened around her, as though he could protect her from whatever was causing her pain. Only he hadn't a clue as to why she was so distraught.

"It's all right, Honey. Nothing can hurt you. I'm here. You're fine."

He meant what he said. He wouldn't allow anyone or anything to harm her. Jesse tightened his arms possessively, only to feel her struggle against his hold. Which reminded him he had no right to feel such feelings. They were virtual strangers. He knew little about her; and she knew nothing, really, about him.

He loosened his hold, caressing her bare shoulders in preparation for moving them apart. As soon as he tried to separate them, she clutched at him and buried her face even deeper against his chest. He was perfectly willing to hold her all day, if that was what she needed. He settled himself more comfortably, putting his stockinged feet on the bedspread, to wait out her tears.

She cried herself to sleep.

Jesse watched the sun rise with a sleeping woman in his arms. He had always wondered what it would be like to settle down, to have a woman of his own, to wake like this with her softness enfolded in his arms. His life hadn't allowed such a luxury. Lately he had begun to wonder whether he ought to think more seriously about finding a wife.

He had bitter experience already with one woman who hadn't been able to handle the kind of life he led. She had worried and begged and cried for him to change his ways. But he hadn't been able-or willing-to give up the life he had planned for himself. It had been a bitter separation, and he had learned that he could hurt, and be hurt.

That had been nearly ten years ago. He hadn't allowed himself to fall in love again. Or to dream about a permanent woman in his life.'

Until he had met Honey.

Jesse brushed back a drying wisp of curl from Honey's brow. He had no idea what it was about this woman that made her different from every other. She was like the other half of him; with her he felt whole. He worried about what would happen when she knew the truth about him.

Maybe it wouldn't matter.

Jesse grimaced. It would matter.

At least the boys weren't around this morning. He shuddered to think what Jack would have said if he caught Jesse in Honey's bedroom-no matter how innocent the circumstances. Fortunately, since yesterday had been the last day of school, Jack had gone off to an end-of-school party and stayed the night with friends. Jonathan was spending the first six weeks of summer vacation with Honey's mother and father.

Jesse felt Honey stir in his arms and thought how well the name fit her, for she flowed around him, her softness conforming to all his hard planes. He smoothed the damp hair as best he could. "How are you feeling?"

She stiffened in his arms. "Jesse? What are you doing here?"

"You don't remember?"

She frowned. "No…yes…oh."

He watched an endearing pink blush begin at her neck and rise to her face as she realized she was naked under the towel. It had slipped some since he had carried her into the room. Now it exposed a rounded hip and teased him with the edge of one honey-brown nipple. He found the sight enchanting.

She tried to ease herself away.

"There's no sense worrying now," he said. "I've already seen everything there is to see. But I would like to hear what had you so upset."

Her shoulders sagged. For a moment he thought she wasn't going to tell him. When she did, he wished she hadn't.

"Yesterday would have been my fourteenth wedding anniversary. I couldn't get Cale out of my mind all night. I guess I was hoping to soak the memories out of my system-the sad ones, anyway."

"Did it work?"

Her face was surprisingly serene when she answered, "I think maybe it did. I feel better anyway. Thanks for being there. I hadn't realized how much I needed…someone…to hold me."

Once Jesse was reassured that Honey was no longer in pain, it left him free to acknowledge the other feelings that arose from holding her in his arms. And to pursue them.

"I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I'm enjoying this," he said. "You're a beautiful woman, Honey." He felt his body tighten and knew she must feel the swell of arousal beneath her.

Honey tried to sit up, but Jesse kept her where she was. "No need trying to pretend you didn't hear what I said. I've kept my distance the past three weeks, but it hasn't been easy. I want you, Honey. I don't want to fight what I'm feeling anymore."

"How can you say something like that when you know I've spent the night crying over another man?"

"Cale is dead, Honey. You're entitled to your memories of him. But I won't let him come between us."

"There is no us!" Honey protested. "You're a drifter, Jesse. Here today and gone tomorrow. I can't-"

His voice was fierce because he feared she was right. "We have today," he said. "I can't offer you a tomorrow right now. Believe me, if I could, I would."

He could see that she wanted him, that she was tempted to take today and say to hell with tomorrow. He wished he could make promises, but a man in his line of work couldn't do that. So he held his tongue, his jaw taut as he waited to hear her answer.

"If it were only me," she began, "I might be willing to accept what you have to offer. But I have two sons. I have to think of them. You're a drifter, Jesse. You could never stay in one place long enough to be the father they need."

"What if I said I could?" She lifted her blue eyes to him and he saw they were filled with hope… and despair.

"I'd like to believe you. But I can't."

"So you're posting a No Trespass sign?" he asked.

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I have to think about it," she retorted. She looked up into Jesse's dark eyes seeking answers for her confused feelings. His gaze was intent, his lids hooded, his mouth rigid, tense with desire.

Suddenly she was aware again of her half-naked state and of the hard male body beneath her. Jesse put a hand on her bottom and shifted her so she was lying with the heart of her pressed to the heat of him.

She gasped. Honey had forgotten the pleasure of a man's hard body pressed against her softness.

"Ah, sweetheart, that feels so good," Jesse murmured.

She clutched at his shoulders, afraid to move lest she succumb to the pleasure or have to give it up. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. He felt strong, and she felt secure in his arms, as though she could have no more worries if they faced the world together.

He was offering himself for a while. For the moment. Honey realized suddenly that she was seriously considering his offer. She didn't want to fall in love with him. That way lay disaster. When he left he would break her heart. But she couldn't deny that when she was with him she felt safe and, curiously, loved. It was a feeling she'd had with no other man since Cale's death.

She would be a fool to live for today; she would be a fool to give up today for the hope of tomorrow. But maybe the time had come for acting a little foolish. Knowing her decision was made, Honey relaxed and nuzzled her face against Jesse's throat.

He felt her acquiescence. Her body flowed once more like honey, hot and smooth. His blood began to thrum.

Honey suddenly felt herself being rolled over onto her back. Jesse lay on top of her, his hips pressed tightly into the cradle of her thighs, so there was no mistaking his intention. He levereid himself onto his palms and she felt herself quivering as he took a long, lazy look at the breasts he had exposed.

"You're so beautiful," he rasped.

He lowered his mouth so slowly that Honey felt the curl of desire in her belly long before his mouth reached the tip of her breast. She anticipated his touch, but the reality was stunning. The warmth. The heat. The wetness of his tongue. The sharp pain as his teeth grazed the crest, and then the strong sucking as he took her breast into his mouth. It was almost more pleasure than she could bear.

Honey was frantic to touch his flesh, and her fingernails made distinct crescents in his back as his mouth captured hers and his tongue ravaged her.

Honey shuddered as his hand cupped her breast. He kneaded the tip between his callused finger and thumb, causing a feeling that was exquisite. There were too many sensations to cope with them all. The roughness of his hands, the wetness of his mouth, the heaviness of his lower body on hers. She was lost in sensation.

With Cale, they would have rushed to fulfillment. But when she reached for the metal buttons of Jesse's fly, his hand was there to stop her. It seemed he had not nearly had his fill of touching and tasting. He held her hand tight against the bulge in his jeans for a moment, then laid her palm against his cheek.

"Touch me, Honey. I need you to touch me."

And she did. Her fingertips roamed his face as though she were a blind woman trying to see him for the first time. She found the tiny scar in his hairline and the spiderweb of lines beside his eyes. The thickness of his brows. The petal softness of his eyelids and his feathery lashes.

She searched out the hollow beneath his cheekbone and the strength of his jaw. The long, straight nose and beneath it the twin lines that led to his lips, soft and damp and full.

He nipped her fingertips and made her laugh until his teeth caught the pad between her fingers and thumb. His love bite chased waves of feeling down her spine.

She used lips and teeth and tongue to trace the shell shape of his ear and was rewarded with a masculine groan that fought its way up through clenched teeth. She was lost in an adventure of discovery, so she wasn't aware, at first, of similar forays Jesse was making.

He nibbled at her neck and laved the love bites with his tongue. Honey felt her whole body clench in response. His hands entwined with hers, and he held them down on either side of her head so she couldn't interfere with his sensual exploration. His lips traced the length of her collarbone and slipped down to the tender skin beneath her arm. He bit and suckled until Honey was bucking beneath him.

"Jesse, please," she begged. She couldn't have said herself whether she wanted him to stop or go on.

Jesse certainly had no intention of stopping. He was fascinated by the woman under him. By her scents and textures and tastes. She smelled of honeysuckle, but her taste was distinct, a woman taste that was meant for him and him alone. Her skin was like satin, or maybe silk, smooth and alluring. He couldn't touch her enough, couldn't taste her enough.

His mouth found hers again, and he brought their bodies into alignment, feeling the moist heat of her through the denim that still separated them. He wanted her. How he wanted her!

He released her hands to reach down toward his Levi's, but her hand was there before him.

"Let me."

Her eyes were lambent, heavy-lidded, the blue almost violet with desire. His loins tightened. He couldn't speak, so he nodded curtly.

She took her own damn sweet time with it. A button at a time he felt himself come free until she was holding him, surrounding him with her hand.

He hissed out a breath. "Damn woman. You're going to kill me with kindness."

Honey smiled seductively. "Then you'll die smiling, cowboy."

The crooked grin flashed on his face and was gone an instant later as she led him toward the female portal that awaited him.

He paused long enough to rasp out, "Are you protected?"

She nodded at the same time he thrust himself inside her. Hot. Wet. Tight. The feelings were astounding, and he groaned as he seated himself deep within her body.

For a moment he didn't move, just enjoyed the feeling of being inside her, of having joined the two of them as one. Right. It felt right And good.

"Honey, dammit, I-" He wanted to wait even longer, arouse her more, until she couldn't talk or even breathe. It was soon apparent she was as aroused as he. Her hands shoved his jeans down and she grasped his buttocks as her legs came up around him. He took his weight on his hands, leaving him free to caress her lips and breasts with his mouth.

Jesse felt a frenzy of uncontrollable need for this woman, at this moment in time. "Honey, I can't-"

He needn't have worried that he was leaving her behind. He felt the convulsions deep inside her and knew she had reached the same pinnacle as he. He threw his head back, teeth clenched against the agony of pleasure that swelled through him as he spilled his seed. He was unaware of the exultant cry that escaped him at that ultimate moment.

Honey felt the tears steal into the corners of her eyes as Jesse slipped to her side and pulled her into his arms. She held on to him tightly, afraid to admit the awesomeness of what had just happened between them. It wasn't what she had expected. The pleasure, yes. But the feeling of belonging…That, she couldn't explain and didn't want to contemplate.

"Honey? Did I hurt you?"

She felt his lips at the corners of her eyes, kissing away the tears. "No," she said. "You didn't hurt me."

"Then, why-?"

"I don't know," she admitted in a choked voice. Another tear fell.

He pulled her into his embrace. In a low voice, that rusty-gate voice, he said, "It felt right, Honey. It felt good. Don't be sorry."

"I'm not," she said. And realized she wasn't. Cale was dead; she was alive. She didn't fool herself. What she and Jesse had just experienced was rare. It hadn't even happened all the time with Cale. That must mean that she felt more for the drifter than even she had previously perceived. She wasn't ready yet to examine those feelings. She wasn't sure what she would find. She certainly wasn't ready to confront them head-on.

Honey changed the subject instead. "Jack will be showing up soon," she whispered.

"Yeah. I'd better get out of here." He grinned and slicked his hand through hair damp with sweat. "I could really use a bath."

Honey arched a brow. "Are you bragging or complaining?"

His eyes were suddenly serious as he said, "I got exactly what I wanted. Are you saying you didn't want it, too?"

"No. I'm not saying that."

He searched her eyes, trying to discern her feelings. First and foremost among them was confusion. Well, he could identify with that. Perhaps what they both needed now was time and distance. Especially since he could feel himself becoming aroused again simply by her nearness. "I'd better get that bath."

He pulled his Levi's back on and buttoned them partway, knowing he was just going to pull them off again down the hall, then turned back to look at Honey.

She had grabbed the towel and was using it to cover herself.

"I think I find you even more enticing half-clothed than when you're naked," he warned.

Honey clutched the towel closer, accidentally revealing even more skin. She was helpless to resist him if he touched her again.

Jesse considered making love to her again, but his common sense stopped him. Any moment Jack might return home. While-he hadn't allowed her son's objections to prevent him from pursuing Honey, he didn't want to confront Jack coming from her bedroom, either. He didn't want the boy thinking any less of his mother because of her relationship with some drifter. When the time was right, he would tell them all the truth and let Honey decide whether she wanted anything more to do with him-or not.

He finished his bath and went downstairs to make coffee, as usual. Shortly thereafter he was joined by Honey, fresh from her bath and looking even more alluring with her hair curling in damp tendrils around her face. She was wearing the same man's robe she had worn the first day he had arrived. He wondered if she had done it on purpose, to remind him that she had belonged to another man. He wanted to cross the room and pull her into his arms, but the wary look on her face held him apart.

"I started coffee," he said, to break the uncertain silence.

"How about eggs and bacon this morning?" she asked, heading for the refrigerator.

He let her pass by him without reaching out, but his nostrils flared as he caught the scent of honeysuckle from her hair. He watched her do all the normal things she had done for the past three weeks, as though nothing momentous had happened between them in the bed upstairs.

Then he saw her hands were trembling and realized she wasn't as calm as she wanted him to believe. He didn't think, just closed the distance between them. He had put his hands on her shoulders when a noise behind him froze them both.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Jack said belligerently, shoving open the kitchen door and letting himself in.

Jesse turned to face Honey's older son, but he didn't take his hands from her shoulders. "Your mom's making breakfast."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Jack retorted.

Jesse saw the tension in the boy's shoulders, the suspicion in his eyes. There was no purpose to be served by aggravating him. He let go of Honey's shoulders, picked up the pot of coffee from the stove and returned to the table to pour himself a cup.

Jack watched with hostile eyes from the doorway, then marched over to stand before the hired hand.

Jessie had been expecting Jack to confront him, but he wasn't prepared for the bluntness of the boy's attack.

"You stay away from my mother. She doesn't want anything to do with you."

"That's her decision, isn't it?"

' 'I can take care of things around here now that school's out!" the boy said. "We don't need you."

Jesse heard the pain beneath the defiant words. "From what I've seen, your mother can use another helping hand."

"You can never replace my father!" Jack said. "He was a Texas Ranger, a hero. You're nothing, just some drifter who rolled in like tumbleweed. Why don't you go back where you came from?"

"Jack!" Honey was appalled at Jack's attack on Jesse. "Apologize," she ordered.

"I won't!" Jack said. "I meant every word I said. We don't need him here."

"But we do need him," Honey contradicted. "I can't do it all, Jack. Even though you're a big help, there are jobs you can't do, either. We need a man's help. That's why Jesse is here."

Honey realized immediately that she had used the wrong appeal with her son. He was a youth on the verge of manhood, and she had reminded him that despite the change in his voice and his tall lanky body, he was not yet a man.

"Fine!" he retorted. "Keep your hired hand. But don't expect me to like it!"

With that he shoved his way out the screen door and headed for the barn. Without breakfast. Which, knowing Jack's appetite, gave Honey some idea just how upset he was.

Honey felt the tears glaze her eyes. "I'm sorry that happened."

Jesse put his hands on her shoulders to comfort her. "He'll be all right."

"I wish I could be as sure of that as you seem to be."

"Don't worry, Honey. Everything will work out fine. You'll see."

But as he lay in the bunk in the barn, he felt a knot in his stomach at all the hurdles that would have to be crossed if he was ever to claim this woman as his own.