Only 05 - Autumn Lover

water hit you?” Hunter asked Elyssa roughly.
    “No.”
    “You sure?”
    “Uh-huh. And even if it had, it would have been worth it.” Elyssa threw back her head and laughed at the sky. “Lord but that water feels good!”
    Hunter didn’t answer. Desire held him in a cruel vise. He couldn’t breathe for the violence of the blood beating in his veins.
    Every curve, every softness, everything feminine about Elyssa stood out clearly against her drenched clothes. Her nipples were drawn into hard peaks that fairly begged for a man’s eyes, for his hands, and most of all, for his mouth.
    Then Elyssa looked at Hunter and her eyes changed, dilating in an instant, answering the sweet violence of his own desire.
    With swift, savage motions Hunter went to Elyssa’s horse and got her jacket.
    “Put it on before you get a chill,” Hunter said, holding the jacket out to her.
    “A chill? Today? If you haven’t noticed, it’s hot and—”
    “You’re making a spectacle of yourself,” he said icily, “but you already know that, don’t you? Put it on .”
    Elyssa opened her mouth to argue, noticed that all the men were staring, and shut her mouth fast. Angrily she took the jacket and began jamming her wet arms intothe narrow sleeves. The motion made her breasts sway against the clinging fabric.
    Hunter wanted to howl with frustration. With a pungent curse he turned away from the endless temptation that was Elyssa Sutton.
    The first thing Hunter noticed was that all the ranch hands were still watching her.
    “Show’s over,” Hunter snarled, looking at each man in turn. “Get back to work!”
     
    “Miss Elyssa, are you sure you should be out here alone?” Sonny asked anxiously.
    “I’m not alone. You and Morgan are with me.”
    Elyssa’s tone was abrupt. Since the incident of the water barrel yesterday, she had stayed away from the men.
    But she was heartily tired of canning, pureeing, pickling, chopping, peeling, and otherwise dealing with the produce of her ruined garden.
    Besides, the day was too beautiful to stay indoors all the time. The slanting, buttery light of late afternoon had lured her out to look at the mustangs they had captured. Her hopes for the future of the Ladder S were pinned on their glossy backs.
    “Yes, but—” Sonny began.
    “But nothing,” Elyssa interrupted. “I’m the owner of the Ladder S, not Hunter. It’s a fact everyone should keep in mind.”
    “Especially Hunter?” Morgan drawled behind Elyssa.
    Warily she turned around. The humor and understanding in Morgan’s black eyes disarmed her.
    “Especially Hunter,” she agreed with a wry laugh.
    “He’s just protecting you from the men,” Morgan said quietly.
    “Really? Then why do I feel that he’s protecting the men from me ?”
    Sighing, Morgan lifted his hat and resettled it on his thick, tightly curled black hair.
    “Well, if you had known his wife, you would understand,” Morgan said finally. “She was a pretty young thing like you. She came to grief because of it. So did he.”
    “What happened?” Elyssa asked, hungry for knowledge of Hunter’s past.
    “Not my story to tell. Excuse me, miss. I’d better be getting back to those mustangs.”
    “But—”
    “Now, don’t you wander out from the buildings without an escort,” Morgan cautioned. “That intruder was here before dawn again.”
    “What? Hunter didn’t say anything about it to me.”
    “Nothing to say. He slipped past the bunkhouse and opened the corral gate. There was hell to pay rounding up those new horses in the dark.”
    “Were any missing?” Elyssa asked sharply.
    “Hard to say,” Morgan admitted. “The horses are all strangers to us.”
    “What does the tally show?”
    “Twelve missing.”
    “Only the branded horses that were in the home corral are gone?” Elyssa asked.
    “Yes, ma’am. The mustangs are too wild to be worth the trouble of stealing. Once they’re green broke, though…” Morgan shrugged.
    “Only horses with Ladder S brands were taken?”
    “Yes, ma’am. It looks that way.”
    “Bloody hell,” she said angrily.
    “Yes, ma’am. It’s all of that.”
    Elyssa climbed the corral for a better view of the remaining horses. Ignoring the dusty rails, which leftbroad marks on her rust-colored riding habit, she sat on the top rail and examined the brands of the horses.
    Less than half of the remaining horses wore the Ladder S brand. Except for a scattering of B Bar brands, the animals wore the Slash