Tyler, page 10
Margie and the boys left, but she and Tyler had seemed to spend a lot of time together during that visit, and Margie had been very nervous and standoffish around Darren. So any hope Nell had that her sister-in-law might be interested in her old flame was washed away almost immediately. It was Tyler Margie wanted, and Nell didn’t have a chance anymore. Not with Tyler nearly hating her for what he thought she’d done. As if she could have borne the touch of any man’s hands but his; it seemed impossible that he didn’t know that.
After Margie left, a morose Darren McAnders began to seek Nell out to talk about the way Margie had avoided him. He was hurt, just as she was, and their common pain brought them together as friends. She even found an odd kind of comfort in his presence.
It was an odd turn of events all around, she thought as she walked with Darren to the corral fence to see two new mares Tyler had bought. Darren was turning out to be a friend.
“You’re looking moody lately,” Darren remarked as they watched Chappy work one of the unbroken mares on a lunging rein. He glanced at her and smiled mischievously. “And the boss is explosive. The men are betting on how long it’s going to be before he throws a punch at somebody just to let the pressure off.”
She flushed. “It’s complicated,” she said.
He propped a boot on the lowest rail of the corral fence. “It’s pretty funny for me to be offering you a shoulder to cry on, when I was your worst enemy at one time. But times have changed and so have I. And if you need somebody to listen, here I am, honey.”
She looked up at him tearfully. He was different, all right. A new man altogether. She managed a smile.
He smiled back and pulled her against him to give her a friendly, totally platonic hug.
But Tyler happened to be looking out the window in the bunkhouse and he saw them. And what was a platonic hug didn’t look that way to a man already trying to cope with emotions he was feeling for the first time in his life, and eaten up with unfamiliar jealousy, to boot. Tyler let out a string of range language, turned and stormed off to where he’d tied his horse. He swung up into the saddle and rode away without the slightest idea of where in hell he was going.
The square dance was the following Saturday night, and most of the present guests were leaving on Sunday to make room for a new group of people. A one-week stay was about standard for most of them. By that time they were sore enough and rested enough to go home and cope with their routines. Margie and the boys showed up Saturday afternoon, and the older woman thrust a huge box at Nell, with a mischievous smile.
“For you,” she said with dancing eyes. “Open it.”
Nell eyed her curiously, but she put the box on the dining room table and opened it, aware of Bella’s frank interest as she did.
It was a square-dancing outfit. A red-checked full skirt with oceans of petticoats and a pretty white Mexican peasant blouse in cotton, both of which had probably cost the earth. Nell just stared at it without speaking. It was the prettiest set she’d ever seen.
“For me?” she asked Margie blankly.
“For you,” came the smiling reply. “And don’t put your hair up in a ponytail, will you?”
“But, Margie, I can’t dance,” she began.
“Wear that and someone will be sure to teach you,” Margie promised.
So Nell wore the new outfit and brushed her long honey-colored hair until it shone thick and gleaming around her shoulders. Margie taught her how to put on a thin coat of makeup, and they were both surprised at the results. Nell didn’t look like Nell anymore. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was certainly attractive enough to make a man notice her.
Margie was wearing a similar outfit, the difference being that Margie could do anything from a square dance to a samba. Nell was too aware that she herself had at least two left feet.
Once she tried to ask Margie about Tyler, but she lost her nerve. Margie was so beautiful, and she had a way of making every man she met want her. If Tyler fell victim to her charm, who could blame him?
Nell couldn’t help but wonder, though, why Margie had bought her a dress. Did she possibly sense that Nell cared about Tyler, and was trying to help her get over him by attracting Darren? But surely Margie didn’t think she was interested that way in Darren, because she’d already denied it.
Downstairs, Bella made a big fuss over Nell’s new image, and Nell had a feeling it was to make up for the last time she’d dressed up and Bella had been worried about Tyler getting the wrong idea. But this time praise was certainly forthcoming.
The band could be heard tuning up in the barn, which had been cleared out for the dance. Bella grinned.
“Well, at least Tyler hasn’t complained about that forty dollars we have to pay the band twice a month,” she said dryly.
“Give him time.” Nell sighed. “Lately he complains about most everything. I hear he even made Chappy take back a rope he bought without permission.”
“In case you haven’t heard,” Bella told Margie, “Tyler is in a snit lately. He walks around glowering at people and talking to himself.”
Margie lifted an eyebrow at Nell, who flushed angrily.
“I don’t have anything to do with it,” Nell said shortly. “Maybe he’s missing your company.”
Margie exchanged glances with Bella and smiled mischievously. “Well, that’s possible, of course.” She eyed Nell’s averted face. “Shall we go find out? Bella, you’re sure you can manage the boys? They’re in their pajamas, waiting for that story you promised to read them.”
“Sure, me and the boys will do fine.” Bella picked up a book and started toward the staircase. “Don’t you worry about us.”
“What are you going to read them?” Margie asked.
Bella turned and grinned wickedly. “All about the pirate raids in the Caribbean, in gory detail.”
Nell gasped, but Margie laughed. “Good for you.”
“Won’t they have nightmares?” Nell asked.
Margie shook her head. “They love that sort of thing. I’m told that most boys do—it’s normal. Their young worlds are made up of monsters and battles.”
“Isn’t everybody’s?” Bella chuckled. “Have fun.”
Nell didn’t have a wrap, and it was a chilly night, but she tried not to notice the goose bumps as she and Margie walked down to the barn. Things were already in full swing, and Nell noticed that Margie’s eyes were restless, as if she were looking for someone. She sighed, thinking that Margie was apparently going to single out Tyler for the evening. Nell had once been certain that Darren was the recipient of Margie’s affections, but she must have been wrong.
The guests were already dancing, with Chappy calling the square dance with gleeful abandon and clapping his hands as he stood at the microphone in front of the band. Tyler was standing to one side, near the refreshment table, braiding three strands of rawhide carelessly while he glared at the dancing. He had on jeans and a blue-plaid Western shirt, and with his black hair neatly combed and his face freshly shaven, he made Nell’s heart race. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
“There you are!” Margie grinned, taking possession of his arm. “How are you?”
“Fine.” Tyler looked past her at Nell, glared even more at Nell, then turned his attention back to Margie. “You look like a dream, honey,” he said in a tone that would have attracted bees.
“Thank you,” Margie purred. She glanced at Nell. “Doesn’t Nell look nice?” she added.
Nell colored and Tyler didn’t say a word. He caught Margie’s hand in his. “Let’s get in the circle,” he told her, and dragged her off without noticing the surprise in her face.
Nell moved back out of the circle of dancers and sat down in one of the chairs, feeling alone and rejected and uncomfortable. It was there that Darren found her. He was wearing a black shirt and red bandanna with his jeans, and he looked almost as handsome as Tyler but in a totally different way.
“Hi, pal,” he said, smiling at Nell. “Hiding out?”
She shrugged. “I don’t dance,” she said with a rueful grin. “I never learned.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “No time like the present,” he remarked. The band had just changed to a slow, dreamy tune, and he held out his hand.
But she shook her head. “I’m not really in the mood.”
He turned to look at the throng of dancers, and his face hardened when he saw Margie dancing with Tyler. He moved beside Nell to lean against one of the posts with folded arms, glaring at what he saw.
“He doesn’t waste much time, does he?” he asked under his breath.
“They come from the same kind of world,” Nell said quietly. “They’ve spent a lot of time together since he came here, and the boys love him.”
“The boys don’t exactly treat me like a plague victim,” Darren said coldly. “Well, faint heart never won fair lady, Nell.”
She smiled up at him. “In that case, good luck.”
He smiled back. “Don’t let him see you looking like that,” he advised. “You’ll blow your cover.”
She sat up straighter. “God forbid.”
He winked at her and moved into the dancers to tap Tyler curtly on the shoulder, nod and sweep Margie into his arms.
Tyler moved off the floor. He gave Nell a cursory glance before he picked up the rawhide strands he’d left on the corner of the refreshment table and began to braid them again.
“Lost your escort, I gather,” he said coolly without looking down at her.
“What’s the matter? Is the competition too much for you?” she shot back with uncharacteristic venom.
He blinked at the unfamiliar heat in her tone. His green eyes glanced over her composed features. “I thought that was your big problem, honey,” he said. “Although you’re dressed for it tonight.”
“This old rag?” she said with a vacant smile. “Until just recently, it was the kitchen tablecloth.”
He didn’t smile. His eyes went to Margie and Darren, dancing like shadows, oblivious to the world.
“It’s a nice crowd,” Nell remarked when the silence between them lengthened.
“So it is.” He finished the braid and tied it off.
“How are roundup plans coming?”
“Fine.”
She took a deep breath. “My goodness, you’ll talk my ear off.”
“Will I?”
“You might offer to teach me to dance,” she said shyly and not without reservations. Inside she was shaking as she tossed off the light remark. “You said once that you’d like it if I wore a dress, and you’d show me how.”
His green eyes met hers like bullets. “Most men get poetic when they’ve been without a woman for a few months,” he said with blunt insolence. “But you take things to heart, don’t you, Nell?”
She felt the color run up her neck like fire. “I…I didn’t mean…”
“Sorry, honey, but my taste doesn’t run to tomboys,” he said mockingly. “You might as well stick with your current favorite, if you can hold on to him. He seems to have a wandering eye.”
She stood up. “That was unfair.”
“Was it?” His eyes narrowed. “As for your offer, I don’t want to dance with you, now or ever. And you might as well throw that—” he indicated her dress “—in the trash if you bought it to catch my eye. I’m not interested in you.”
She felt the world caving in around her. She looked up at him like a small, wounded animal, tears glistening in her eyes.
She couldn’t even fight back for the pain his careless words had caused. She’d had such hopes. But then, he’d made no secret of his interest in Margie. She’d been crazy to pit her charms against her sister-in-law’s!
“I’m sorry!” she whispered, but her voice broke. Without another word, she turned and ran out of the barn, her skirts flying against her legs as she darted onto the porch, into the house and up the stairs. She didn’t stop until she was locked in her room, and the tears came like rain.
Tyler had watched her go with anguish. He hadn’t expected that reaction, especially since she’d been sitting with McAnders. Well, maybe it was the sight of Margie dancing with her lost love that had set her off that way, and not what he’d said to her at all. He had to hold on to that thought. If he started believing that what he’d said to Nell had put those tears in her eyes, he wasn’t sure he could stand it.
Nell had cried herself to sleep. She woke up dry-eyed and miserable, wondering how she was going to bear it if she had to see Tyler again. Margie had come by her room last night as if she wanted to talk, but Nell had feigned sleep. She didn’t know what Margie had to say, but it was probably a lot of sighing memories of Tyler and the dance, and Nell didn’t want to have to listen to her.
She was only sorry that she’d shown Tyler how he’d hurt her. She never should have lost control that way. She should have thrown herself into the spirit of the dance, laughed and danced with Darren and given Tyler the cold shoulder. But she wasn’t the kind of woman who could carry off that kind of charade. She wore her poor heart on her sleeve, and Tyler had crushed it.
She was surprised to find Tyler in the dining room when she went downstairs to breakfast, especially after the way they’d parted the night before.
“I want to talk to you,” he began slowly.
“I can’t imagine about what,” she replied. She did look up then, and her dark eyes were almost black with cold rage.
“About last night,” he said shortly. “I didn’t mean what I said about your outfit. You looked lovely.”
“Thank you,” she said, but without warmth. “Last night that would have meant a lot.”
“I got tired of watching you with McAnders,” he admitted shortly.
She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “Watching me with him?” she probed.
“Watching you throw yourself at him,” he said with a mocking smile. “That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Dressing up in that fancy rig, putting on makeup. I hope he appreciated all your efforts.”
She took a deep breath and felt her entire body bristling as she glared at him with her dark eyes flashing. “To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t aimed my charms at Darren specifically. But thanks for the idea. Maybe I will ’throw myself’ at Darren again! At least he told me I looked nice and offered to teach me to dance!”
“He felt sorry for you!” Tyler burst out without choosing his words.
“Doesn’t everybody?” she shouted. “I know I’m not pretty! I’m just a stupid little tomboy who can’t tell the right man from a hole in the south forty! And I’m glad he felt sorry for me—at least he didn’t make fun of me!”
“Neither did I!”
“What would you call it?”
Bella came ambling into the room, her eyes like saucers, but neither of them noticed her.
“I got the wrong end of the stick!” he tried to explain.
“Well, why don’t you get hold of the right end?” she invited. “And I’ll tell you exactly where you can put it and how far!”
“Nell!” Bella burst out, shocked.
“If that’s how you feel, we’ll drop the whole subject,” Tyler said through his teeth. One lean hand was almost crushing the brim of his hat, but he seemed to be beyond noticing it.
“Good! Why don’t you go out and ride a horse or something?”
“You won’t even listen…!”
“I did listen!” Nell raged, red faced. “You said I might as well throw my clothes in the trash as wear them to impress you, that you weren’t interested and that I took things to heart…!”
“Oh, God!” he groaned.
“And that it was just abstinence that was responsible for everything!” she concluded fiercely. “Well, that works both ways, cowboy! And you can get out of my dining room. You’re curdling my eggs!”
His face was like rock, and his eyes blazed up like green fires. “Damn your eggs! Will you listen?”
“I will not, and I’m not eating the damned eggs. Here, you can have them, and welcome!” And she flung the plate at him, eggs and all, and stalked out of the room.
Tyler stood there, quite still, with egg literally on his face, his shirt, his jeans. A piece of egg had even landed in his hat.
Bella cocked her head warily as she waited for the explosion. He glared at her for a minute and deliberately stuck the hat on his head.
“Would you, uh, like some bacon to go with your eggs?” she asked.
“No, thanks,” he said calmly. “I don’t really have anyplace left to put it.”
He turned and walked out, and Bella was hard put not to collapse with hysteria. Imagine, Nell actually shouting at anybody! That young lady was definitely getting herself together, and Tyler was going to be in for some hard times if Bella didn’t miss her guess.
The cold war had truly begun. Nell sent messages to Tyler by Chappy during roundup and she never went near the holding pens. The most she did was to call Bob Wyler about the helicopter and make arrangements with the transport people to get the calves to the auction barn. Otherwise, she busied herself with the guests, who were enjoying the warm autumn climate and especially the cookouts and trail drives that Nell led herself.
Her confidence was beginning to grow, except where Tyler Jacobs was concerned. She felt like a new woman. She discarded her old wardrobe and bought a new one. This time, she bought jeans that fit and tops that clung. She had her hair trimmed and shaped. She began to wear makeup. And she learned from Margie how to gracefully get out of potentially disturbing situations with male guests without hard feelings. She was beginning to bloom, like a delayed spring flower blossoming before winter.
Margie began spending more and more time at the ranch, and every time Nell looked out, she saw her sister-in-law with Tyler. Darren grew moody and frankly angry, and began cutting at Margie every time he saw her. She cut back. It got to the point that they were avoiding each other like the plague, but Tyler seemed to benefit from that, because Margie spent most all her time with him. He enjoyed it, too, if the expression on his face and in his eyes was anything to go by. The boys had even started teasing them about their preoccupation with each other. But it was a loving kind of teasing, because the boys were crazy about Tyler. Darren had captured at least some of their attention during the frequent visits, though, because they began to seek him out to show them about horses and cattle and tell them stories he’d heard from his grandfather about the old days in the West. That irritated Margie, but she couldn’t make them stop following Darren around. And Tyler wouldn’t. That, too, was puzzling to Nell.
