Dick Ballard.
“Ballard.” Ty nodded to the man, who looked anything but pleased to see him walk in. His mouth was pulled up at the corners, but it was only a movement as Ty swung his attention to Jessy, his look long and measuring. “Thought I’d see if you had any of that coffee made. I could use a cup before I make that long drive home.”
“Help yourself.” She waved him to the kitchen.
Ty poured a cup, then brought it back to the front room and sat down at the table. He lit a cigarette and smoked it as if it, and the coffee, were his only interest while he listened to the conversation between the pair. Ballard did most of the talking, and mostly about himself. Ty became impatient with Jessy, wondering why she couldn’t see through the braggart’s talk. The more he heard, the less he liked the man.
The rawness that he’d first tried to sweat out with physical work, then ease with some relaxing over a cup of coffee, was an irritable spur that goaded Ty into thwarting whatever Ballard’s intentions were for the rest of the evening. When he finished one cigarette, he lit another, building up butts in the ashtray and showing no sign of being in a hurry to leave. The trip to the kitchen for his third cup of coffee finally got the message across to the cowboy.
“Guess I’d better hit the road, Jessy. I’ve gotta roll out at the crack of dawn in the morning,” Ballard declared, trying to impress her with the long, hard hours he worked. The chair legs scraped on the floor as he pushed away from the table. “See ya, Mr. Calder.”
“Good night.” Ty returned to his chair while Jessy rose and walked out with Ballard.
Restless and edgy, he got up again. He could hear the low murmur of their voices outside but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The coffee had gone very black and very bitter. He downed half of it and swirled the rest in his cup. He was in the same black and bitter mood as the coffee.
Jessy walked back in as a truck started up outside. Ty glanced at her and drank another swallow of coffee. He couldn’t read her expression, and that made him even more irritable. The light played on her hair, making him notice the tawny streaks that ran through it.
“I didn’t mean to drive away your company,” he lied.
“That’s okay.” She calmly walked to the table, picking up the two empty cups. “I would have asked him to leave soon anyway.”
Ty hesitated, then followed her into the kitchen with his cup. “This cabin sits a ways back from the others. It would be pretty hard for anyone from the camp to hear you if you needed help. Maybe you oughta change with somebody.”
“I like being off by myself.” She rinsed out the cups and set them in the sink. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
The confident statement irritated him. “You’re always so damned sure you can handle anything,” he said roughly, emptying his cup in the sink and setting it with the others. “Just what would you have done if I hadn’t been here and Ballard had refused to leave when you asked him to go?”
“I’d have gotten rid of him one way or another.” She shrugged indifferently at his hypothetical question.
“Would you?” His mouth tightened at that calm self-assurance.
“Yes.”
Ty grabbed her arms, catching her off guard, and yanked her roughly against him. “How?” He pushed the challenge through his teeth. “Show me how.”
His sudden grab had startled her. Before she could react, she was being crushed against him, her arms pinned between them. Fingers twisted into her hair to pull at the roots. In a few seconds, Ty had her virtually immobilized and at his mercy. But the heavy impulses driving him had no mercy.
His mouth sawed across her lips with bruising force, cutting them apart. He was venting all his pent-up anger on her, using her roughly and liking the fight she gave him. In a war of strength, he was unquestionably the winner. No matter how she strained, she couldn’t avoid the hard thrust of his hips. He could feel her weakening, her body reluctantly relaxing against his. He eased the pressure, discovering the full and warm softness of her lips.
He had come to her cabin seeking a subtle comfort. But there was another kind to be found in her long woman’s body and the moistness of her lips. Ty had a hunger for it. There had been too many previous occasions when frustration caused by Tara had turned him toward other women. There was no separation in his mind between those women and Jessy. His interest took on a passionate quality.
In that short lull with no resistance, Jessy had gathered her strength and violently pushed out of his arms. Breathing hard, she backed up, eyeing him warily. He took a step after her.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Her voice was hoarse and angry, rough with the raging hurt of her emotions. “You’re angry with her because she isn’t here! And you’re taking it out on me!”
Her words cracked across him like a whip. They stopped him—stunned him. Jessy had backed up against the counter, her hands reaching back to grip its edge. There was high color in her cheeks and the look of a wounded and cornered she-cat in her eyes.
“I’m Jessy Niles—not your wife!” She was trembling. “Don’t ever make the mistake of using me for her again—or I swear I’ll kill you.”
Everything was held behind his expressionless features. “I know who you are, Jessy.”
She turned her head, lowering it for the first time. “You’d better go, Ty.”
There was the smallest hesitation before he did as she asked and left the kitchen, continuing straight out the door. When she heard the truck motor start, she went limp with relief, not fearing him but rather fearing herself.
It was one of those rare Indian summer days that tried to deny a bitter cold winter was just around the corner. Ty angled across the ranch yard, his father striding beside him. Coming from the direction of the barns, Tara’s voice called for him to wait. Turning, he saw Tara and his sister hurrying to catch up with them.
“You’re just the man I wanted to see,” she declared and hooked her arms in his, sidling up to him.