A Taste of Heaven Read Online Free PDF Page B

and
she considered him to be one of her special customers. She made her
way to him, her rust-colored hair shining like a dark penny under
the kerosene lamps, her hips swaying in her garnet dress. Unhooking
his ankle, she wiggled into his dusty lap.
    She snaked an alabaster arm around his neck
and leaned toward his ear to be heard over the clanking piano. “How
about if we tell the rest of these bums good night and go upstairs
for a midnight snack?”
    He chuckled. No one could accuse her of being
shy. “You’re a shameless female, Callie, but that’s part of your
charm.”
    “I’d say it’s about half,” she replied,
and looked him over with a gaze of candid appreciation. “It’s good
to have you back—things just aren’t the same when you’re gone. You
give those gals in Miles City a sample of your charms?”
    “You aren’t going to start getting jealous
after all this time, are you?” he asked, going along with the game.
She had a smile that unsettled some people, and in fact, had once
unsettled him. It made her look as though she had a secret that no
one else knew. Hell, maybe she did.
    She waved a smooth, white hand in a
dismissing gesture. “Me? No, sir. But I know your habits, and I
just got to wondering if you strayed from them when you’re away
from home.”
    He bounced her once on his knee. “The only
thing I did in Miles City was sit through a lot of meetings with
cattle buyers. I’m dead tired and I want to go to bed.”
    Her whiskey-colored eyes darkened with
promised sensuality and she rubbed a breast against his shoulder.
“Well, then, come on, Ty. Let’s go up to my room.”
    On another night he might have. His
relationship with Callie was straightforward and uncomplicated,
just the way he wanted it. She satisfied his physical needs and
appeared pleased with his ability to do the same for her, and with
the twenty dollars he gave her. But it was late and he was too
tired for the amount of energy she burned up.
    Suddenly, nothing was more appealing than
getting back to the private solitude of the ranch. He'd been gone
less than two weeks but it felt like an eternity, and something in
his soul was left wanting by his absence. He reached for his beer
and drained it.
    “Next time, honey. Tonight you'd probably
kill me.” He patted her backside to move her off his lap.
    Pouting in her disappointment, she stood
slowly and raked his form with a sultry gaze. Running a hand over
her hip, she gave him a slow smile. "But, darlin', can you think of
a better way to leave this life?"
    He laughed then and shook his head. Walking
to the doors, he threw a good night to her over his shoulder.
    It was five miles to the house and only a
half-moon lit the way, but Tyler and his pinto knew every inch of
the wagon-rutted road.
    When he cleared the last rise, he reined in
his horse and looked at his home. The meetings in Miles City left
him feeling like vultures had picked at his bones. The buyers were
eager to take advantage of the winter-borne disaster that had
befallen cattlemen all over the Great Plains. At the railhead in
Miles City they were calling it the Big Die-up, and the
cigar-smoking opportunists knew it. There was still plenty of Texas
cattle they could buy instead—they didn’t need him. A couple of
times, he'd almost walked away from them. He'd wanted nothing more
than to get back on his horse and come home. But he'd known he
couldn't, that he needed fast cash to rebuild the herds. So he'd
hidden his anger and tempered his pride, and he'd agreed to the
piddling offers. Because this land spread out before him made it
all worth it.
    His hands braced on the pommel, he leaned
forward slightly in his saddle. As far as his vision could reach,
the grass lay frosted in moonlight, accented with lingering traces
of snow. The house and outbuildings were quiet in the midnight
hush. This belonged to him. He was its master, he was its son.
    It was hard for him to believe now that he'd
once walked away from it.