Page 31 of Hidden Fires

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Silently the Mexican girl divested Lauren of her habit and redressed her in a brown split skirt which Lauren thought disgracefully tight across her hips and much too short. A white cotton shirt that buttoned down the front much like a man’s went on next. Elena ignored the tears Lauren sniffed back and the quivering shoulders over which she slipped a soft leather jacket. Brown kid boots molded to Lauren’s calves, and she was modestly grateful that they covered her legs to just below the knee where they met the bottom of the culottes.

The tears began to roll down her cheeks as Lauren thought of the humiliation Jared had subjected her to. He had stripped her of all dignity in front of the servants, her friends, and he had enjoyed it.

In silent sympathy, Elena removed Lauren’s hat, took the pins out of the heavy black hair, and brushed it hurriedly. She braided the ebony tresses into one long plait that hung to Lauren’s waist like a silken rope. Then she handed Lauren a brown, flat-crowned hat that looked like the one Jared wore, and Lauren placed it on her head, securing the thin leather cord under her chin. Finally Elena handed her a pair of brown kid gloves.

They had been in the room no more than ten minutes, but the transformation was astounding.

As they went down the broad stairs, Elena whispered, “Lauren, can you ride astride?” In the crisis, all formality was dropped.

Lauren swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.” Elena looked at her compassionately, but saw only determination on Lauren’s face. The tears had vanished.

Lauren strode out the front door without so much as a glance in Jared’s direction. Expectantly she stood beside the sorrel mare. She placed one small, booted foot in the stirrup and grasped the pommel. Pepe cupped his hands and boosted her up by her other foot. She landed in the saddle with a plop, almost crying out in shock as her tender thighs slapped against the leather. She immediately composed her face and took the reins Pepe offered up to her.

Jared watched her with interest and smiled a sardonic, knowing smile. This was going to be some ride!

They didn’t speak as they rode out the lane to the house and followed a road leading west out of town. Lauren scanned the countryside.

The sun was only now rising behind them, and its rays gradually illuminated the breathtaking scenery. Tall cypress trees lined the bends of the Rio Caballo, which paralleled the road on the right. On the left were gently rolling hills glistening with frost, which sparkled like a mantle of diamonds as the sun reflected off of it. Oak and elm trees were tinged with the russet tones of fall, and the cedars provided a dark evergreen contrast. White limestone formations jutting out of the hillside caught the morning sun and dazzled the eye.

They rode side by side, Lauren guiding her horse away from Jared’s any time it came wi

thin a few feet of the larger animal. Her hat fell back against her shoulders, and Jared looked at the top of her head as the sun crowned it with highlights.

In spite of her declaration to the contrary, he knew she had never ridden astride before. She’s got some spunk, he conceded silently. She was riding well, but God, she was going to hurt later on.

He broke the silence. “You don’t look quite so comical now. Isn’t that outfit more comfortable than that contraption you had on before?” he goaded.

“I’m fine, thank you, Jared.”

Damn! Always so cool. I’ll just bet she’s comfortable, he thought snidely. That cute little butt he’d noticed as she mounted the horse was probably screaming in pain. Why didn’t she complain?

He deliberately spurred his horse and increased their pace.

Lauren did likewise in order to keep up with him, and the throbbing in her thighs and bottom was almost unbearable. But she would rather die than reveal her discomfort to that superior, arrogant, hateful man!

In spite of her mounting anger, she couldn’t keep her eyes away from Jared. She wanted to hate him, but that was hard in light of his handsomeness. No picture she had ever seen of the dashing western men depicted anyone as exciting as Jared Lockett.

Try as she might, she couldn’t forget how the sight of him last night with his chest bare and his hair mussed had caused her heart to pound. She had been terrified of opening that door, but it wasn’t only his threat to break it down and rouse the house that had constrained her to obey. She had to admit that she was curious about what would happen when she did. Tremors had coursed through her body, setting up strange sensations as the topaz eyes traveled over her. Lauren almost imagined that Jared had been unnerved himself, but that would be out of character for him.

Objectively she studied horse and rider now. They moved together as one being. The stallion’s honey-gold coat was almost the same color as the sun-gilded hair that covered Jared’s chest.

The sun rose higher behind them, and they continued at a canter. Finally, when Lauren thought she couldn’t keep from crying in pain much longer, Jared slowed down and led her off the road toward the swiftly running river. They reined in under the enormous cypress trees.

“I’m ready for a break,” he said as he lithely dismounted. He led his horse to the stream and the palomino lowered his head to drink.

Lauren still sat on her horse. She had done exceptionally well in riding, she thought, but she was unsure about mounting and dismounting without a block to stand on.

Jared looked back, then walked over and offered his hands up to her. Painfully she pulled her leg from the far side of the saddle and timidly placed a hand on each of his broad shoulders. His hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her gently to the ground. She didn’t look at him, but kept her head lowered until he released her. She felt his breath against her cheek. It was warm.

The mare needed no encouragement to join Jared’s mount at the river. Taking a canteen from his saddlebag, Jared uncapped it and handed it to Lauren. She took a few swallows and gave it back to him. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, a little.” She was trying not to wince as she slowly and stiffly lowered herself onto a large, flat rock.

He pulled a few wrapped sandwiches out of the saddlebag and offered her one. “I made these this morning, and I can’t vouch for their quality.”

“It’s fine,” Lauren said, biting into the thick, dry ham sandwich.

“I know how to cook over a campfire, but a kitchen makes me nervous.” His mouth quirked in the semblance of a smile.


Tags: Sandra Brown Historical