innocents would be unthinkable to such a man, so it hadn’t been surprising that Cade acted as if she didn’t even exist most of the time.
Of course he had a lot on his mind. But he was nothing like his younger brothers, Robert and Gary, whom she adored. Cade never flirted with her or asked her out. He probably never would—she wasn’t his type, as he’d told her once. She could still blush about that, remembering her shy worship of him the summer he’d taught her to ride and what he’d done about it.
Bess knew that he’d lost far more than he could spare because of her father, and she wondered how in the world she and her flighty, spendthrift mother were ever going to settle the debts. Oh, Dad, she thought with a bitter smile, what a mess you’ve landed us all in. She spared a thought for that poor, tortured man who hadn’t been able to bear the disgrace he’d brought on his family. She’d loved him, despite his weakness. It was hard giving him up this way.
Outside, the wind blew up, but it didn’t slow Cade’s quick, hard stride. She knew that a hurricane wouldn’t, once he set his mind on something. Bess shivered a little as she saw him heading toward the front door, his worn, dark raincoat brushing the high grass as he walked through it, snow melting as it fell against the brim of his gray Stetson. He walked as he did everything else, relentlessly, with strides that would have made two of hers. As he came into the light from the porch, she got a glimpse of cold dark eyes and a deeply tanned face.
He had very masculine features, a jutting brow and a straight nose and a mouth like a Greek statue’s. His cheekbones were high and his eyes were very nearly black. His hair, too, was very nearly black, and thick and straight, always neatly cut, very conventionally, and neatly combed. He was tall and lean and sensuous, with powerful long legs and big feet. Bess adored the very sight of him—worn clothes, battered Stetson, and all. His lack of wealth had never bothered her. Her mother’s frank dislike of him was the major stumbling block. That and Cade’s cold indifference. She thought sometimes that she’d never live down that long-ago confrontation with him, that he’d never forget she’d thrown herself at him. Looking back, her own audacity shocked her. She wasn’t a flirt, but Cade would never believe it now.
He was at the door before she realized it, towering over her as she stood in the doorway to greet him. He stared at her narrowly. She was wearing a pale green silk dress, and her big brown eyes were full of sadness.
The grief in her eyes disturbed him. “Open the door, Bess,” he said quietly.
She did, immediately. His voice had a deep, drawling authority despite the fact that he rarely raised it. He could make his toughest cowhands jump when he spoke in that quiet tone. He was a hard man, because his life had made him into one. Old Coleman Hollister hadn’t spared Cade, though he’d been indulgent enough with his younger sons. Cade had been the firstborn, and Old Man Hollister had groomed him carefully to take over the ranch when the time came. Apparently he’d done a good job of it. Cade had a great track record with the money he made on the rodeo circuit.
He strode into the hall without taking off his hat. He had the knack of hiding his strongest feelings, with the exception of his bad temper, so Cade looked down at her without showing any emotion. Bess looked tired, he thought, and Gussie had probably been giving her hell. Her soft oval face was flushed, but it only made her lovelier, right down to that straight nose over a sweet bow of a mouth. He didn’t want to take it out on Bess, but the sight of her caused its usual physical response and made him uncomfortable. There were a hundred reasons why he couldn’t have Bess, no matter how badly he wanted her.
“Where’s your mother?” he asked.
“Lying down.” She’d already chewed the lipstick off her lower lip. Now she started on the upper one. He made her feel much younger than her twenty-three years.
“How are you?” He was watching her still, with that dark appraisal that disturbed her so.
“I’ll do. Thank you for all you’ve done,” she said. “Mother was grateful, too.”
“Was she? My mother and some of the other neighbors are bringing dinner and supper over for you tomorrow,” he added. “No arguments. It’s the way things are done. The fact that you’ve got money doesn’t set you that far apart.”
“But we don’t have money,” she said, smiling ruefully. “Not anymore.”
“Yes, I know.”
She looked up, defeated. “I guess you know, too, that we’re going to lose everything we have. I only hope we’ll have enough money to repay you and the other investors.”
“I didn’t come here to talk business,” he said quietly. “I came to see if I could do anything else to help.”
She had to fight tears. “No,” she said. “Heaven knows, you’ve already done more than your share, Cade.”
“You look tired,” he said, his dark eyes sweeping over her creamy skin now pale with fatigue. She had big brown eyes, a peaches-and-cream complexion and a body that made him ache every time he looked at it. She wasn’t pretty. Without makeup she was fairly plain. But Cade saw her with eyes that had known her most of her life, and they found her lovely. She didn’t know that. He’d made sure she didn’t know it. He had to.
He removed his hat, unloading snow onto the faded Oriental rug, onto his worn boots. “Mother and the boys send their condolences, too,” he added, and his eyes darkened as he looked down at her.
Bess misunderstood that dark appraisal. He looked at her as if he despised her. Probably he did, too, she thought miserably. She was her father’s daughter, and her father’s risky venture might have cost him his ranch. She knew he’d had to borrow heavily to scrape up the money to invest in her father’s venture. Why had he done it? she wondered. But, then, who could ever figure Cade?
“That’s very kind of them, considering what my father cost you all,” she replied.
A corner of his mouth curled up, and it wasn’t a kind smile. “We lost our shirts,” he said. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and without bothering to ask if she minded, lit it. He let out a thick cloud of smoke, his eyes taking in her thinness, the unhealthy whiteness of her face. “But you know that already. Your mother is going to have a hell of a time adjusting.”
That was true. “She isn’t strong,” she said absently, lowering her eyes to his broad chest. Muscles rippled there when he breathed. He was powerfully built, for all his slimness. She’d seen him without a shirt, working in the fields in the summer, and the memory of it made her feel warm all over. With his shirt off, he was devastating. Bronzed muscle, covered with a thick, sexy wedge of hair that ran from his chest down to his lean stomach, into the belt at his jeans...
“She smothers you,” he returned, cutting into her shocking thoughts. “She always has. You’re twenty-three, but you act sixteen. She’ll never let you grow up. She needs somebody to lean on. Now that your father’s gone, you’ll be her prop. She’ll wear you down and bring you down, just as she did him.”
Her dark eyes flinched. “What do you know about my mother?” she demanded. “You hate her, God knows why...”
“Yes, I do,” he said without hesitation, and his black eyes pierced hers, glittering like flaming coals. “And God does know why. You don’t know what she really is, but you’ll find out someday. But it will be too late.”
“What can I do, Cade, walk out on her?” she cried. “How could I, when she’s just lost everything! I’m
