Lorraine Heath by Parting Gifts Page B

some work done, you tell me.” He set the wood on the stump, worked the ax free, and brought the ax down.
    Maddie watched the manner in which he worked, as though he was trying to drive something away. Probably her. “I don’t want to ask things of you. I don’t want you to resent my presence.”
    “I don’t resent your presence,” he said as he buried the ax into another log.
    “Did you stay away at night before I came?”
    He glanced over his shoulder, his grip on the ax tightening.
    “I heard the clock downstairs chime four times before you came to bed.”
    Sweet Lord. Had Charles kept her awake all night making love to her? He plowed his hand through his hair knowing he would have done the same thing. If a man could get easily drunk just gazing into her eyes, what in God’s name would he feel buried deep within her? “I had something on my mind and couldn’t sleep. I walked down by the creek. Time got away from me. It had nothing to do with you.”
    She lowered her gaze and then peered at him through her thick, golden lashes. “Texas Rangers aren’t supposed to lie.”
    And this Ranger couldn’t very well tell her the truth, either: that he’d wanted to stay in that damn room and watch her bathe; had wanted to sponge the scented water over her body, lift her, smelling of forget-me-nots, from the water, carry her to the bed, and sip the glistening drops from her body.
    He gave her what he hoped was a teasing grin. “I’m not telling a lie.”
    Her eyes widened. “Oh! My biscuits!”
    Jesse watched her run off, yelling something about a meal and his need to hurry and finish his chore. He buried the ax in the log. She was his brother’s wife, had exchanged vows with Charles that she intended to honor. He’d better make damn sure he stayed clear of her.
    “Maddie suggested we take the day off and go on a picnic,” Charles announced to everyone sitting at the table.
    The children squealed and clapped their hands.
    After wolfing down the biscuits, Jesse had been concentrating on shoveling the syrup-drenched flapjacks into his mouth so he could fill his stomach and get out before his eyes betrayed him and strayed over to watch Maddie. As he slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes lit upon her and branded into his memory the image of her sitting with her hands in her lap and her eyes fastened on her plate. He shifted his gaze to Charles.
    “We hoped you’d join us,” Charles said.
    Jesse looked at his brother’s smiling face, the children anxiously awaiting his answer. He didn’t want to disappoint the children, but better to disappoint them than to do something he might later regret. “I think a picnic is a fine idea, but I’ll have to pass today. I have a lot of work I need to get done.”
    “Surely, the work can wait. After all, it’s Saturday,” Charles said.
    Jesse eyed his brother. “I didn’t get anything done yesterday because you sent me into town. I’ll take my day of rest tomorrow like everybody else.” His fork clattered as it hit the plate, and he stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things that need to be done.” He stalked across the room, grabbed his hat from the peg on the wall, and shoved it down low over his brow before pushing open the door.
    He walked to the shed, picked up his hammer and bucket of nails, and walked away from the house. Whenever time allowed, he’d been erecting a wooden fence that would separate some of Charles’s land from the land Jesse had planned to graze his cattle on. He’d wanted a safe place for the children to play so he wouldn’t have to worry about them getting hurt by an angry bull.
    He reached the unfinished fence and glanced down the length of it. He hadn’t made much progress on it, and he probably had no reason to finish it now that he no longer had the means to purchase the cattle. Still, he dropped the bucket among the weeds. Then he took off his shirt and hung it on a post. He clenched some nails between his teeth, picked up his