"Not that I don't like what I see," the cowboy drawled.
Honey felt a faint irritation-laced with pleasure-when his grin reappeared.
"You're long legged as a newborn filly and curved in all the right places. That curly hair of yours looks fine as corn silk, and your eyes, why I'd swear they're blue as a Texas sky, ma'am."
Honey was mortified by her body's traitorous reaction as his eyes made a lazy plerusal of her face and form. She felt the heat, the anticipation-and the fear. She recognized her attraction to the man even as she fought against it. This tall, dark-eyed drifter would never be reliable. And he had danger written all over him.
"Who are you?" Her voice was raspy and didn't sound at all like her own.
"Jesse Whitelaw, ma'am." The drifter reached up with his free hand and tugged the brim of his Stetson.
The name meant nothing to her; his courtesy did nothing to ease her concern. She stared, waiting for him to say why he had sought her out, why he knew so much about her when she knew nothing about him.
He stared back. She felt the tension grow between them, the invisible electrical pulse of desire that streaked from his flesh to hers. Unconsciously she stepped back. His hold on her wrist tightened, keeping her captive.
His voice was low and grated like a rusty gate. " Dallas told me about your husband's death. I came here tonight hoping to meet you."
"Why?"
"I need a job."
The tension eased in Honey's shoulders. She released a gust of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Despite what he'd said, the way he'd looked at her, he hadn't sought her out to pursue a physical relationship. She couldn't help the stab of disappointment, when what she ought to feel was relief. At least now she knew how to deal with him.
"I can't afford to hire anyone right now," she said. "Especially not some down-on-his-luck drifter."
The smile was back. "If I wasn't down on my luck, I wouldn't need the job."
She couldn't hire him, but she was curious enough about him to ask, "Where did you work last?"
His shoulders rolled in a negligent shrug. "I've been…around."
"Doing what?" she persisted.
"A little cowboying, some rodeo bull riding, and…some drifting."
Bull riding. She should have known. Even Cale had never ridden bulls because he had thought it was too dangerous. Drifting. He was a man who couldn't be tied to any one place or, she suspected, any one woman. The last thing she needed at the Flying Diamond was a drifting cowboy who rode bulls for fun. Not that she could afford to hire him, anyway.
Just today she had discovered over fifty head of cattle missing-apparently rustled-from the Flying Diamond. That loss would cut deep into the profits she had hoped to make this year. "I can't hire anyone right now," she said. "I-"
The back door opened, revealing the silhouette of a large man in the stream of light. "Honey? Are you out here?"
She recognized Dallas, who was joined at the door by Angel.
"Are you coming in?" Dallas asked Honey.
"Yes. Yes, I am." She took advantage of Dallas 's interruption to slip from the drifter's grasp. But he followed her. She could feel him right behind her as she stepped onto the porch.
Honey turned to the stranger to excuse herself and gasped. The harsh light from the kitchen doorway revealed the man's features. She was suddenly aware of his bronzed skin, of the high, broad cheekbones, the blade of nose and thin lips that proclaimed his heritage.
"You're Indian!" she exclaimed.
"The best part of me, yes, ma'am."
Honey didn't know what to say. She found him more appealing than she cared to admit, yet the savage look in his eyes frightened her. To her dismay, the drifter put the worst possible face on her silence.
His lips twisted bitterly, his grating voice became cynical as he said, "I suppose I should have mentioned that my great-grandfather married a Comanche bride. If it makes a difference-"
Honey flushed. "Not at all. I was just a little surprised when I saw…I mean, I didn't realize…"
"I'm used to it," he said. From the harsh sound of his voice it was clear he didn't like it.
Honey wished she had handled the situation better. She didn't think any less of him because he was part Indian, even though she knew there were some who would. She turned back to Angel and saw that the young woman had retreated into the safety of Dallas 's arms.
"I came outside for some air," Honey explained to Dallas. "And I met someone who says he's a friend of yours."
Dallas propelled Angel ahead of him onto the back porch and pulled the kitchen door closed behind him. "Hello, Jesse. I wasn't expecting you tonight."
Jesse shrugged again. "I got free sooner than I thought I would. Anyway, I could have saved myself the trip. Mrs. Farrell says she can't afford to hire anyone right now."
Dallas pursed his lips in disapproval. "I don't think you can afford not to hire someone, Honey."
"I'm not saying I don't need the help," Honey argued. "I just don't have the money right now to-"
"Who said anything about money?" Jesse asked. "I'd work for bed and board."
Honey frowned. "I really don't-"
"If you're worried about hiring a stranger, I'll vouch for Jesse," Dallas said. "We went to Texas Tech together."
"How long ago was that?" Honey asked.
"Fifteen years," Dallas admitted. "But I'd trust Jesse with my life."
Only it wouldn't be Dallas 's life that would be at stake. It was Honey's, and those of her sons, Jack and Jonathan. "I'll think about it," she said.
"I'm afraid I need something a little more definite than that," Jesse said. He tipped his hat back and said, "A drifting man needs a reason to light and set, or else he just keeps on drifting."
Honey didn't believe from looking at him that Jesse Whitelaw would ever settle anywhere for very long. But another pair of hands to share the load, even for a little while, would be more than welcome. There was some ranch work too heavy for her to handle, even with her older son's help. Honey brushed aside the notion that she would be alone with a stranger all day while the boys were at school. It was only a matter of weeks before her sons would be home for summer vacation.
She took a deep breath and let it out. "All right. When can you start?"
"I've got some things to do first."
Honey felt a sense of relief that she wouldn't have to face him again in the near future. It evaporated when he said, "How about bright and early tomorrow morning?"
Honey sought a reason to keep him away a little longer, to give herself some time to reconsider what she was doing, but nothing came to mind. Anyway, she needed the help now. There was vaccinating to be done, and she needed to make a tally of which cattle were missing so she could make a more complete report to the police.
Also she needed to add some light to improve security around the barn where she kept General, the champion Hereford bull that was the most important asset of the Flying Diamond.
"Tomorrow morning will be fine," she said.
The words were barely out of her mouth when the kitchen door was thrust open and another silhouette appeared. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing out here?"
Adam Philips joined what was quickly becoming a crowd on the back porch. He strode to Honey's side and slipped a possessive arm around her waist. "I'm Adam Philips," he said by way of introduction to the stranger he found there. "I don't think we've met."
"Jesse Whitelaw," the stranger said.
Honey watched as the two men shook hands. There was nothing cordial about the greeting. She didn't understand the reason for the animosity between them; it existed nonetheless.
"Are you ready to come back inside?" Adam asked.
He had tightened his hold on her waist until it was uncomfortable. Honey tried to step out of his grasp, but he pulled her back against his hip.
"I think the lady wants you to let her go," Jesse said.