Chapter 5
What in the Sam Hill had just happened?
Beckett stared at the kitchen door that had closed behind Hyacinth.
Course he knew what had happened, that they’d just shared a kiss. But why?
His gut cinched tight at the vision of her storming across the ranch yard, cutting a straight line toward him like a woman on a mission who couldn’t be swayed from her destination.
Her eyes had held a determination that had turned his stomach into a tangled tumbleweed tossing in the wind, especially because her gaze had been fixed on his mouth.
When she’d reached him, she’d done what no other woman had ever done. She’d wound her arms around him and then kissed him like she wanted to devour him.
He hadn’t needed her to say anything. He’d been all too willing to kiss her in return.
He wasn’t sure what that said about him.
That it’d been too long since he’d had womanly attention?
That he had a hankering for marriage more than he’d realized?
Or that he’d wondered what kissing Hyacinth would be like?
Because even though he’d tried not to think about kissing her over recent months, he could admit there had been a time or two when he’d imagined fusing his mouth to her sassy one and turning her speechless.
If anything, she’d made him speechless. All he’d been able to do was stare after her as she walked away. If she’d glanced at him, she would have realized she’d gotten her lasso around him—could’ve asked him for anything and he would’ve given it to her.
Even now, if she came back out, he’d still be standing in the same spot by the pump like a big old steer who’d just been branded and couldn’t think straight.
His heart was thudding clear out of his chest, and he had half a mind to chase after her and ask her what the kiss meant—if he could get his feet to work.
Heaven help him, but the kiss with her had been filled with more sparks and pops than a bonfire made of softwood. No other kiss in his life could begin to compare with it. And he suspected no other woman would ever compare to her.
She was something else.
What was he gonna do about the situation now?
He ran a hand through his damp hair once more, then blew out a taut breath. Should he follow her into the kitchen and ask her to marry him for a second time? He’d told himself he wasn’t a begging man, but dad-blame-it, she might turn him into one.
No how, no way. He gave a firm shake of his head, then retrieved his hat from the grass where he’d set it when he’d started washing up. He slapped it down on his head and forced his feet to carry him away from the house and away from Hyacinth.
By the time he reached the livestock barn, he’d realized he’d left the cart in the garden.
But his insides were coiled tighter than a rattler about to strike, and he was in no mood to go back and get the cart.
He entered the dimly lit interior, stalked to the center haymow, then kicked at the pile of hay while releasing a frustrated groan.
“Blast it all.”
His whole body demanded that he seek her out. Only to ask her about the kiss, and not because he wanted to be with her, right?
Whistling came from nearby.
Beckett tensed. He’d thought he was alone. Then again, he hadn’t looked to see if anyone else was in the barn.
A man hobbling on a crutch stepped out of a cow stall.
It was Alonzo, hunched over as usual with his pant leg tucked up against the stub of leg that remained above his knee.
He’d discarded his Stetson, revealing stringy brown hair that was tied back with a leather strip.
His beard and sideburns were equally long and stringy.
His brow rose. “She’s gotten you worked up, eh?”
Beckett had half a mind to ignore Alonzo, but the older man had an extra sense about him and always knew when something was going on, even when it wasn’t his business—especially when it wasn’t his business.
“I’ll be all right in a minute.” Beckett tried to draw a breath into his tight throat.
“Don’t reckon you’ll be all right until you finally make that gal yours.”
Beckett choked, then cleared his throat. “You don’t know what you’re jawing about.”
“Sure do. Clear as day that you care about her and have from the moment she showed up here.”
“I don’t care about her.” Even as Beckett protested, he knew he was lying not only to Alonzo but also to himself. Maybe he did have a tiny soft spot for Hyacinth, but only because she’d been in so much trouble when she’d arrived at the ranch late last year.
Alonzo shrugged, then limped on his crutch back toward the cow that he’d been milking. “You’d lasso the moon for that gal if you could.”
“That’s not true. We can hardly be around each other without fighting.” He grabbed a long piece of straw from the hay pile and stuck it between his teeth.
“You fight because it’s the only way you can be with her.”
“Also not true.”
“Then maybe all the fighting is forepleasure.”
Forepleasure? As in all the looks and touches and desire that built up before marital intimacy?
In the process of chewing on the straw, Beckett spat it out and stared at the older man’s back.
Alonzo glanced over his shoulder at Beckett, and then a moment later, his chuckle wafted out of the stall. “Or maybe it’s because you’re both so stubborn that neither of you can admit what’s obvious.”
“And what would that be?” Beckett tried to infuse his voice with sarcasm, but he guessed Alonzo could see through all the blustering and blathering.
“You’re burning for that gal, and you always will. And she’s burning for you too.”
At just the words, fire fanned to life low in Beckett’s gut. Was Alonzo right? Was he burning with need for Hyacinth? Maybe. But was she? He shook his head. “Just because she kissed me doesn’t mean she’s burning for me.”
As soon as the words were out, Alonzo grew motionless.
Beckett palmed his forehead. Now why had he gone and yammered about the kiss?
Alonzo pivoted slowly and made his way back out of the stall, his expression losing all humor. “You kissed her?”
“Technically, she kissed me.”
Alonzo’s face tightened with sternness, and he didn’t respond.
“Fine. I kissed her back.” And he’d taken his sweet old time about it, savoring every second.
The older man stared at Beckett as though reading his thoughts. “Reckon you have no choice but to marry her now after defiling her reputation.”
“Defiling her reputation?” Beckett snorted.
Alonzo’s brows furrowed into a dangerous scowl.
Beckett fell silent. Had he compromised Hyacinth by kissing her?
But how? No one had seen them. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d taken her to bed.
“Yep, you best be fixin’ to marry her, or I’ll turn you into crowbait.” Alonzo’s statement held no warmth.
“I asked her to marry me, but she said she never would, not even if I was the last man on earth.”
Alonzo stared at him hard.
Beckett had always liked that the old ranch hand was protective of the womenfolk.
He’d hovered over Sterling’s sisters. He treated Mrs. Noble like she was a queen.
And he’d been devoted to Violet and Hyacinth all along, even when Violet and Sterling had split up.
It was well and good for Alonzo to be protective of Hyacinth now too.
But there wasn’t much Beckett could do if Hyacinth was dead set against marrying him.
“Talk to Sterling.” Alonzo spoke the words with finality, as if Sterling had all the answers to life’s problems.
“What can Sterling do about it?”
“He and Violet can convince Hyacinth she’s gotta marry you to save her reputation.”
“That won’t happen and you know it.”
“Then kiss her again. And this time make sure everyone sees you.”
It was Beckett’s turn to raise a brow.
Alonzo ignored him and brushed a hand along the cow’s hefty flank before situating his milking stool.
He lowered himself, positioned the pail—already containing a foamy layer of milk—underneath the cow’s udder.
He began the milking with the natural rhythm of someone who’d done the chore all his life.
Beckett stood silently watching.
“What?” Alonzo finally asked, tossing him an innocent look.
“For someone so worked up about the first kiss, you sure didn’t have trouble suggesting a second.”
“Now that she’s yours, it ain’t gonna hurt nothin’ to kiss her again.”
“She’s not mine—”
“She sure-as-a-gun is.”
Beckett sighed. Alonzo could say it all he wanted, but it didn’t make it true. Hyacinth was her own person with her own mind. No matter how many times Beckett kissed her and no matter what Sterling might say, if she made up her mind not to marry him, there would be no changing it.
“It also ain’t gonna hurt nothin’ to tell her you love her.” Alonzo spoke without breaking the flow of his milking.
Love her? That was taking things too far. “I’m not gonna tell her something that isn’t true.”
“Plain as daylight it’s true. If you weren’t a coward, maybe you’d see it’s true too.”
“Coward?” Beckett had been called a coward one too many times in his life, and he loathed it. Course, that was a part of his past he wanted to forget. But he couldn’t keep the resentment from clawing inside him, pushing for release, making him want to slam something.
But nope. He wasn’t gonna get angry today. Not at Alonzo, who didn’t know just how much Beckett hated being called a coward and how hard he’d worked over the past seven years since leaving Texas to prove he was fearless.
Beckett swallowed the unwanted feelings, took a deep breath, then spun and strode toward the barn door. He had to get away before Alonzo said anything else that might upset him.
“I’ll give you a week,” Alonzo called after him. “One week to tell Sterling about kissing Hyacinth. After that, I’ll tell him myself.”
Beckett didn’t slow his steps or stop. Not until he was back outside in the ranch yard. Once there, he paused, the snowflakes sifting down faster, coating the ground in a light layer of white. The wind had picked up and was bringing with it a bitter edge.
That meant they were in for a bigger storm tonight than usual. Was that a foreboding of things to come, an even bigger storm forming inside him?