Give Me Tonight(24)

"You're a mystery. I'll never understand you. I guess no one ever will. You get a grip on a man's heart, and every now and then you give it a little twist . . . but always so sweetly. And it's only because you're so beautiful that I let you tie me in knots the way you do. "

The intensity of his stare made her uneasy. "Don't, you'll make me conceited," she said, and laughed in an effort to break the tension. Jeff followed her lead, breaking out into a low laugh.

"I've got to see you tomorrow," he said, watching her as she stood up to brush the leaves and dirt off her skirt.

"I don't know." Addie smiled at him. "Something tells me I'll be very busy."

"I miss you, Adeline. And I'm gettin' tired of the way your father and his bulldog keep such a close eye on you. I never get to visit you without them hangin' over me like—"

"His bulldog?"

"Ben Hunter. Lord knows why your father has taken to him, or why he trusts him. It's not safe for you to be around him."

"Why do you say that? “

"He's up to no good, honey. Just think about it. Stranger comes to Sunrise, talkin' like an easterner and carryin' a forty-four. Has a reputation as a maverick hunter and a gambler. Somehow finds his way to Sun­rise Ranch and hornswoggles your daddy into hiring him on. Anyone with eyes can see he 's on dodge from the law. You can always tell when a man's lyin' low."

"I guess you can." Addie stared into the stream and frowned thoughtfully. Then she asked him to take her home.

Russell decided to talk to Addie in the library before dinner that night-for what reason, she couldn't guess. As she sat down in a deep leather chair and watched him puff on a cigar, she found it comforting to be near him. Having been raised by a maiden aunt, she'd never been accustomed to a masculine presence in a home. She liked Russell's scratchy, deep voice, the scents of horses, leather, and the trace of strong drink that clung to him. He had the same vigor that she had admired in Ben, the same robust appreciation of life, and his roughness appealed to something inside her.

It was incredible to look in Russell's face and realize she resembled him. Perhaps it was mere coincidence, or her imagination, but it seemed to her that they even shared some of the same mannerisms. He treated her with a disconcerting mixture of directness and indul­gence, one minute talking to her as frankly as if she were a man, the next spoiling her without limit.

"Lately I haven't talked to you much, Adeline."

"No, sir."

"You spent some time today with Jeff."

"Yes, we—"

"What goes on between you two durin' these visits? "

"I . . . He . . . Nothing much."

"He acts like a gentleman around you?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

He nodded, blowing out a ring of smoke. "That's good. Jeff is a good boy, for a Johnson. Soft, maybe, but he'd never dare treat you wrong. He say anything 'bout when he's plannin' to ask me for permission to marry you?"

"No."

"Then he ain't caught yet."

"No, sir."

"Well, he will be soon. But to catch him you got to hold him at the right distance. Understand?"

"I think so."

"Not too close, not too far. Hold him tight, but don't choke him. That's the way your mama caught me." Russell noticed Addie's sudden smile, and he chuckled, beaming with pride. "If you want him, we'll get him for you, honey. Just look at you. I got me the prettiest girl in Texas."

"And . . . I've got the most distinctive father."

"Distinctive?" Russell appeared to be pleased. "Distinctive. Five-dollar word. So you learned some­thin' at that school 'sides watercolorin' and manners. Your mother might have been right about sendin' you there. But don't tell her I said so."

As he looked at her, his pride deepened until his chest was filled with it. Besides the Sunrise Ranch, he considered Adeline to be his greatest accomplishment. Any achievement of hers was a credit to him, while her faults . . . well, he preferred to ignore those, ex­cept to chastise her occasionally, just for show. Cade and Caroline were good children, but they were too much like their mother. Adeline understood things that most women, in his opinion, weren't capable of un­derstanding. She thought with good, hard common sense, more like a man than a woman. And she be­longed to Texas as he did. She had his nerve, she was cut from his mold.

Other men had well-behaved daughters, unassuming creatures who knew their places, women who would someday be obedient and pliable to the will of their husbands. But his daughter was wild, untamed, and beautiful. His disapproval of her independence warred with his pride in it. She thought for herself, she made decisions by herself, and there was almost no freedom he wouldn't get her.

"Let's go in to dinner," Russell said, holding out the crook of his arm, and Addie took it with a smile.

As soon as dinner was served and the edges were taken off everyone's appetite, the conversation began. Russell proved within five minutes that he was in fine fettle. "Well, Ben . . . I want to hear what that son­-of-a-bitch fence cutter George Johnson had to say when you told him I want my fence back up!"

Caroline and her husband, Peter, winced at his loud voice and strong language, glancing at their ten-year­old daughter. Leah was staring raptly at her grandfa­ther.