Lacy. Diana Palmer
didn’t say a single word. If anything, she moved even closer to Cole, her accusing blue eyes on Ben’s bruised face as he got slowly to his feet, rubbing his chin.
“Okay, I was out of line,” he muttered, glaring at his brother. “But so were you. The world’s changing. If you can’t change with it, you’ll be left behind. Car’s over here.”
He went ahead of them, looking so ruffled and trying so hard to be dignified that Lacy had to fight back a smile.
“No censure?” Cole chided, glancing at her. “I thought you’d jump to his defense.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry you didn’t hit him harder,” she replied calmly.
He stopped walking and looked down at her, finding the same wild spirit in her eyes that he’d seen and liked when she was still in her teens. It would have matched his own—in another time, another place. What a hell of a pity, the way it was between them. Perhaps he should have told her in the very beginning how little he had to offer. He should have told her the truth.
His fingers touched her hair. It was soft and cool, and he wondered why she was so rigid, hardly breathing.
“Does that frighten you?” he asked, searching her eyes. “You’ve stopped breathing.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” she confessed in a whisper, returning the soft scrutiny. “I was afraid that if I moved, you’d think I didn’t want you to touch me.”
His fingers actually trembled. “Lacy—”
“Are you two coming with me or not?” Ben called belligerently from the car.
Cole couldn’t help laughing. “Young rooster,” he muttered. “Okay, son. We’re on our way.”
Lacy sighed softly as Cole moved ahead. Thanks, Ben, she thought viciously. Someday I’ll do you a favor!
Just as they reached the car, a small blond whirlwind erupted from a horse and ran pell-mell toward Ben.
“Hi!” Faye Cameron burst out, jumping on to the running board to plant an airy kiss on Ben’s cheek. “I didn’t know you were back from the big city! How are you? Hi, Lacy. Good to see you again. Cole, you’re looking good.”
“What do you want?” Ben muttered, glaring at her. “I told you—I don’t have time to come calling right now. I’m busy.”
“But it’s my birthday party,” Faye told him, her big blue eyes wide and hopeful. “I’ll be eighteen. Oh, Ben…You promised you’d come. It’s tonight!”
Ben shifted his hat on his head and looked and felt uncomfortable. That was the trouble with women, he thought irritably. You took them to bed once or twice and they tried to own you. Still, he thought, watching her, she was a hot little thing in bed, all soft little breasts and hot skin—and she’d do anything in the world to please him. If it hadn’t been for her father, he’d have been over to see her before this. But the old man didn’t like him, and Ben wasn’t sure what Ira Cameron might do if he found out Ben had seduced his only child.
“Gee, honey, I’m sorry,” Ben said soothingly, tweaking her hair gently. “But I’ve just got myself a nice job in San Antonio, writing for a newspaper.”
“Ben, how great!” she burst out, all smiles.
Well, at least he had one person to share his triumphs with. He grinned. “I’ll be the only reporter on the staff, too. Mr. Bradley said I was so good that he wouldn’t need anybody except me! I get a pretty good salary and my own office, and I’ve even been invited to visit the Bradleys at their home.”
“That’s swell, Ben,” Faye said. She frowned. “But doesn’t a big city newspaper need more than just one reporter?”
Ben had wondered about that himself, but he glossed it over. “I’m good, I tell you. And even people in San Antonio know about the ranch and that we’re solid citizens. Mr. Bradley said that was good for business. I’ll come over in a week or two and tell you all about it, okay? But just now I’ve promised to meet my employer and his daughter at their home for dinner,” he added, and Faye seemed to understand. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“Sure,” Faye said, but it was with a pale smile. So the boss had a daughter. And her Ben was so ambitious…She moved back from the car, all her bright laughter gone, her beauty diminished. “Sure. Well, nice seeing you. ’Bye!”
She ran for her horse, but not before Lacy had seen the pain and tears in her eyes. Poor little thing, she thought bitterly. Ben was so thoughtless!
Cole didn’t say a word. Perhaps he thought Ben was justified. Men!
They got into the car, and Ben cranked the engine. Behind them, Faye Cameron sat tall in the saddle, her young breasts thrusting against the fabric of her yellow shirt, her well-rounded hip emphasized by the jeans. The sun made a halo of her blond curls, made silver tracks of the wash of tears on her pale cheeks. As she watched them drive away, she dashed an angry hand over her wet face.
“I’ll make you care someday, Ben Whitehall,” she whispered brokenly. “Someday, somehow, I’ll make you care!”
She wished she knew more about men. She’d tried to be everything he’d wanted in bed. She’d let him do the most incredible things to her young body without a single protest, when she wondered if it was quite normal. He’d even kissed the inside of her thighs!
Of course, Ben was experienced. He’d told her once about one of his women, describing in detail exactly what he’d done to her. Faye had turned red and gasped at the brazen conversation, but she’d listened all the same. And when he’d finished, and Ben saw the look on her face, he’d thrown her down on the bed and taken her, standing up, her thighs in his strong hands as he looked down at her body on the bed; then he’d laughed as he shuddered with completion. The memory made her hot all over. She shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, her lips parted, her breasts gone hard with desire. She wanted him to follow her home and make love to her. But he wasn’t going to do that. She’d have to wait until he could fit her into his busy life.
She turned the horse slowly, hurting as she never had before. If only she could read and write, if only she were intelligent and educated. Ben only wanted her in bed because she wasn’t smart enough to associate with him in public. But maybe if she got pregnant, he’d want her. Her lips pursed. Yes. Maybe that was the only way she’d ever get him. And Cole would make him marry her. She smiled. It would be poetic justice, even, since it was Ben who’d forced Cole to marry Lacy. She sat up straighter as she urged her mount into a canter. It was a beautiful day after all. It felt good to be eighteen and already a woman.
Behind her, the roadster lurched into motion as Ben pushed down the accelerator. He wondered if Faye was going to be difficult. She was a sweet kid, but that Jessica Bradley was some chick! He couldn’t think of anything he’d like better than doing to the sleek brunette what he’d been doing to little Faye. Only more of it. He began to whistle as the car went racing madly down the long dirt road toward Spanish Flats.
Chapter
Five
Ben had the top down, and the old 1914 runabout was filled with choking dust. It was a good thing his mother had stopped him from putting that Lizzie label on it, Lacy thought wryly, or people would have done some staring. GIRLS, WATCH YOUR STEP-INS painted on the side would have drawn a few eyes! That fad had really caught on with the young people, even in Spanish Flats.
The runabout was a tight fit for the three of them. It was as old as Cole’s big Ford touring car, but few local people could afford new cars anyway. Just to be able to own a Tin Lizzie was quite a feat following the war, given the problems of depending on agriculture for a living. Lacy felt her lungs filling with dust, but she held her tongue. Cole was used to dust; he lived with it day in and day out. He’d only think less of her for acting like the tenderfoot she sometimes was.
Sitting close beside her, his long