Children of Destiny Books 1-3 (Texas: Children of Destiny Book 9) Read online

  Nothing between them had ever been simple.

  “I was so sure you’d only consider a woman with money or oil.”

  His face darkened. “You were wrong.”

  “But we fight all the time.”

  He laughed softly. “Not all the time.” His breath fell hotly against her cheek. “I think we’ve discovered a new, mutually enjoyable sport.”

  She blushed shyly, aware of a thrilling happiness. “We can’t spend our whole life in bed.”

  “Then we can spend our days looking forward to the nights.”

  “Sex is only a small part of marriage,” she persisted.

  “But an interesting part.”

  “I’ve hated you for years. I’ve blamed you for so many of the things that went wrong in my life. I’m not sure I can ever fit into your world.”

  “Honey, you’re already a part of my world. We grew up together. We love the same things, the same people. We desire each other. People have begun marriages on less.”

  “Jeb, listen—”

  “No, you listen. I can’t wait.” When he lowered his mouth to hers again, he was shaking. A long time later, against her lips, he muttered hoarsely, “I want you, and I intend to have you from now on, whether or not you marry me. I’m willing to settle for less than marriage, but I don’t intend to do without you.” His mouth grazed hers again. “Do you really think you can say no to me forever?” He laughed softly as he pulled her unresisting body against his own.

  Everywhere her skin touched his, she felt on fire. “Even if I were crazy enough to agree,” she began breathlessly, “that wouldn’t mean I’d let you order me around the way you do everybody else on the ranch, the way you were ordering me around yesterday.”

  He grinned. “That’s beginning to sound like a yes.” His voice was low, soft. “But I’m not about to go down in history as the first Jackson who let his woman boss him.”

  “What kind of marriage can we possibly have?”

  “It won’t ever be dull.”

  “What about Janelle? Yesterday...”

  “I already broke up with her. In Texas.”

  “You mean you deliberately made me think that you were still serious about her? You had me fly her here. You treated me like I was nothing.”

  “When I found your gift on the table Saturday night, I knew you loved me, but you’d said you wanted to be nothing more than an employee. Don’t you see? I had to show you how wrong you were. It was a gamble, but I could see conventional methods of courting weren’t working with you.”

  “You mean yesterday was nothing more than an unconventional method of courtship?” she cried.

  “Call it what you like. I had to get you good and mad, so mad you couldn’t think straight. You’re more honest emotionally when you’re furious. I had to get you back in my bedroom so you would know, as I do, that we belong together. Darling, you brought all this on yourself by being so stubborn.”

  “Me? You’re the one who can’t take no for an answer. You’re the one who drove off and left me! You made me walk through that storm!”

  “Then you’d better marry me, Megan. For both our sakes. If you don’t, there’s no telling what I’ll do next.” He kissed her then with tenderness and pulled her beneath him. “Because I will never, never let you go,” he whispered.

  Eleven

  A solitary tear traced a sparkling trail down the smoothness of Megan’s pale cheek as she moved through the tall wet bluestem. Beyond the hangar her little yellow airplane seemed to wait for her in the still quiet.

  If only her father would come home, she thought, she might be deliriously happy. During the past week she had known endless, enchanted hours filled with undreamed-of rapture in Jeb’s arms. Despite the rushed chaos of their wedding plans, for entire days they had existed only for each other, wanted only each other, celebrated only in each other.

  It was a fine Texas dawn with a blood-red sun and a humid fresh wind stirring the grasses in the pastures and the oak and emerald-dark ebony leaves. The fresh wind brought with them the dewy sweetness of grass, mesquite and wildflowers.

  There was a sense of vastness, of eternity, of quiet and peace. A sense of all her yesterdays, of all her tomorrows. A sense of belonging.

  Megan needed these things. They were her world, the only security she had ever known.

  It was the morning of her wedding day, and she was to marry the man she wanted above all others. Yet her heart was near to bursting with pain. She stared out at the vast emptiness. On such a morning as this one, her father had disappeared from the ranch forever. And when he’d gone, he’d taken with him his daughter’s belief in herself and in love.

  A strange aching hollowness seemed to lodge in the pit of her stomach as she remembered that day, when she’d been forced to set aside all her childish illusions. There was a part of her that still felt lost and abandoned. Some part of her that was guilty because he hadn’t loved her enough to stay. She wanted him back. She wanted to know why he had left her, what she had done wrong. And she had never wanted him more than today, this, the most special day of her life—not even on that first quiet morning so long ago.

  Was he dead or alive? Would she ever know?

  Had he loved her at all?

  If he had, oh, what had she done, dear God, that was awful enough to drive him away?

  If he didn’t come home today, she would have to accept, once and forever, that he was never coming back.

  Kirk was no comfort. He said only, “Dad went away for good. Accept it.”

  When she had confided in Jeb how much she wanted her father to be at her wedding, Jeb had nodded gravely. She had been surprised at the deep, tortured understanding she’d read in his eyes. He’d tackled the problem with grim resolve, placing full-page ads in all the important Texas newspapers and in several national ones and ads on the Internet as well. He’d even hired a private detective.

  When the week had passed, and there’d been no response, Jeb had held her close and told her she had to accept the fact that Glen was either dead or didn’t want to come.

  She’d wept bitterly against Jeb’s broad chest, saying that she knew now for sure that her father was dead, that she knew it because he would never have failed to come home for their wedding if he were alive. He could not have read the pleading letter on the Internet and in the newspapers and not have come home.

  Jeb’s mood had become even darker than her own. He’d torn free of her clinging arms, almost pushed her away, and gone off by himself, not returning until late last night.

  She’d been frantic about Jeb then, and a terrible desolation had filled her soul. Everyone who’d ever loved her had abandoned her. When he’d come back, she’d made him promise gravely he would never leave her again without telling her where he was going.

  But would he, too, walk out on her one day? Jeb... Was the fire between them true love? Or was it the darker, mutually destructive emotion she’d always believed it to be?

  The Jacksons had been shocked by the news of the wedding, but they had struggled to camouflage their disappointment in Jeb’s choice of bride by pretending it was the suddenness of the event that bothered them. Mercedes had nearly fainted when Jeb had first told her.

  “One week to plan the biggest, grandest wedding in Texas. No one will come,” Mercedes had protested. “The house...”

  “Forget the house, Mother. Forget big and grand. Megan and I don’t care if anyone comes. We just want to get married.”

  Jeb had drawn his bride into his arms and kissed her with a tenderness and gentleness that had finally succeeded in touching his mother’s romantic heart.

  “Well, even if people can’t come, we’ll have the most important thing—an eager bridegroom,” Mercedes had murmured to Megan several days later. “I’ve never seen Jeb so happy.”

  No one who was around Jeb for five minutes could doubt his passion for his new bride, but was passion alone strong enough to endure?

  As Megan bent over the tie
down beside her Piper and worked the damp, prickly rope loose, she felt a fresh pang of guilt. She should be at the Big House helping Mercedes with last-minute wedding details.

  But Megan had gotten out of bed with an irresistible craving to get away, to be alone, if only for a little while, on her wedding day. She had wanted to fly over the MacKay homestead and think of her father, to offer one last silent prayer that he’d come home today, if he were alive.

  As she loosened the second tie down, she heard the crunch of heavy tires on caliche, the final strains of a kicker tune on a car radio before the engine was shut off. Jeb slammed the door of his Cadillac and let out a low wolf whistle.

  Megan got up, a smile suffusing her face with radiance.

  “Morning,” he drawled, the hot light in his eyes warming her.

  “Hi,” she whispered shyly, brushing her fingers against her thighs.

  “Running away?” he murmured.

  “Just for a little while.”

  “Not from me, I hope.”

  “No. From everything else.”

  “I know the feeling. Mother loves to make a fuss. But it’ll be over soon, and we’ll be alone.”

  “I can’t wait for that.”

  She went to him and touched his cheek with gentle wonderment. He drew her closer, and she closed her eyes as he brought his mouth down to hers. She felt his lips move along the soft curve of her jawline and down the warm length of her neck. She clutched him tightly until her fingers bit into his shoulders.

  A long time later, he asked, “Mind if I come, too?”

  “Not if you make yourself useful.”

  “Jackson women don’t push Jackson men around like that.”

  “This one does.” On a breathy giggle she whispered, “Just get the chock, will you?”

  Within minutes they were buckled into the cockpit, and the plane was surging down the runway and into the sky. The strip, the hangar and the lush green pastures dwindled to nothing. The red roof of the Big House glinted in the morning sun. Beyond them, as far as the eye could see, stretched the endless, table-flat range of dry creek beds and mesquite brush country.

  She was caught in the sheer joy of flying, in the wonderful sense of freedom. Jeb was watching her, grinning at her, and she was glad he was with her.

  “I can’t believe you do this for fun,” he murmured.

  When she turned the plane to the west and headed for the old MacKay Ranch, Jeb frowned. Beneath them and heading the same direction as the Piper, an enormous truck was roaring down the caliche road, leaving coils of white dust whirling in its wake. Megan buzzed it so she could read the large red lettering.

  Jack Robards Drilling.

  Megan edged forward in her seat for a closer look. “Hey, you didn’t tell me there was any new oil exploration going on at the ranch. And there’s another truck over there near our old place.”

  Jeb shifted uneasily. His features were drawn and taut, his lips pressed tightly together. “I’ve been trying to cut a deal with Robards on a new gas lease, but he’s one tough negotiator.”

  She was too caught up in flying to notice when Jeb abruptly changed the subject.

  A minute later the Piper zoomed over the refurbished hunting lodge that had once been the old MacKay homestead. How she had fought Jeb to try to prevent him from changing her home, but today she wasn’t thinking of that battle. She was thinking of her father, of how much she missed him. A new tension settled over Megan and Jeb as they flew low over the house and the windmill, back and forth several times. They were both remembering the happier days of her childhood, as well as the sadder ones.

  “I wish...” Her voice broke. Tears were misting behind her lashes.

  “I know, honey,” Jeb said quietly.

  She felt his steadfast gaze on her anxious face. Then his fingertips grazed her cheeks as he tenderly brushed her tears from her long lashes.

  In that moment she believed that there was nothing on earth Jeb wouldn’t have done to make her happy.

  If they were going to have a chance for that happiness, she would have to put the past behind her.

  *

  The wedding passed in a dreamlike blur. Megan was a vision with her unruly hair falling like spirals of fire upon an exquisite gown of white lace and pearls. Numb with stage fright, she clung to her darkly handsome brother as he led her with only the aid of the polished banister down the wide, swirling staircase to the hushed throng of waiting guests packed at the foot of the stairs.

  An audible gasp went through the crowd when she reached them, and she felt like a queen. Brown-faced vaqueros and their wives mingled with celebrities and Texas royalty. At Megan’s request, there was to be only one wedding reception.

  Jeb was standing apart. Regal. Masculine. Splendid. He moved a heavily muscled leg forward and planted a polished black boot on the first step by the door. Their eyes met and touched. Never had he seemed bolder or more self-confident. Her heart did a crazy somersault, and she ached for something from him she had never wanted from another man.

  Jeb. She formed his name silently on her lips, and he dazzled her with a quick white smile and an irreverent wink. Her fears dissolved.

  Kirk handed Megan to Jeb, and it seemed a dream as his bronzed hand closed over hers. His warmth flowed into her. A dream as she stammered her vows. A dream as Jeb continued to gaze into her eyes and speak in a voice that was deep and tender as he pledged himself to her forever.

  Then it was over. Jeb lifted her veil and kissed her, his arm around her waist like a band of steel, and everyone was dancing and drinking champagne, kissing one another and toasting. The revelry went on and on, endlessly into the night, growing more boisterous as the hours grew later.

  All the Jacksons were present. Nick and Amy had come with Triple. Tad, Jeb’s younger brother, had flown in from Australia. Janelle and her parents were there as well, and Byrom. Megan would have preferred to avoid Byrom and Janelle, but Byrom found Megan alone and asked her to dance.

  On a whirl of music he whispered boldly into her ear. “I know why you did it, but you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

  She could not meet his eyes.

  “Your backgrounds are too different,” he persisted.

  “We both grew up on the ranch.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes...”

  His arms tightened about her possessively. “Megan, I love you.”

  She caught the scent of bourbon on his breath.

  “Don’t, please.” Her voice was desperate.

  “If you ever need me...” he murmured thickly.

  “I will always need...a friend.”

  He pulled her closer, his hand damp and clammy on hers. The scent of bourbon was stronger.

  “I am that—and much more.”

  She was aware of Jeb watching them, and she felt jittery with relief when the music ended and Byrom left her.

  Jeb came at once to her side. “What did he want?”

  “To tell me he was still my friend.”

  “You’re my wife now. You no longer have the time for such a friendship.”

  “Is that a command, your majesty?”

  “Damn right,” he growled. Then he kissed her.

  The florid-faced oilman, Jack Robards, was at the wedding, and he seemed to gravitate to Jeb whenever Megan was not at her husband’s side. Once, as Megan was stepping inside the library, she discovered them alone and overheard Jeb say, “Don’t worry, I’ve got MacKay wrapped around my little finger.”

  Jack’s red cheeks purpled with delight. He was swirling bourbon in his crystal glass. “I would imagine so. Clever move—your marrying her.”

  Megan let the door fall closed with a loud click. “Hmm?”

  Both men started. There was an awkward silence as she swept into the room. Just for a moment, she had the impression she had interrupted something private, something she had not been intended to hear. Then masks seemed to fall over their faces. Jeb rushed forward an
d took her hand. “Jack, have you met Megan?”

  There was a sardonic glitter in Robards’s bold eyes as he smiled and lifted his glass toward her in a silent toast. “I haven’t had that pleasure.” Then he bolted his drink and with a knowing glance toward Jeb, smoothly excused himself.

  Megan did not like the man. He seemed a slippery, not-to-be-trusted sort, and as she watched him go, she turned questioningly to Jeb. “What were you two talking about in here...alone?”

  Jeb forced a smile and put his arm around her. “He was congratulating me on my bride.”

  “I thought...that perhaps there was more to it than that.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation.

  “You’re imagining things, my darling,” Jeb murmured.

  She could not cast off her sense of uneasiness as he led her back to the reception. At the sight of Janelle on the other side of the room, she remembered the moment when Janelle had cornered them both on the landing. They’d attempted small talk until Jeb had been called away to the phone.

  “Congratulations,” Janelle murmured, managing a quivering smile after he’d gone. “Well, aren’t you the dark horse. No wonder you’re so radiant. Y-you’ve certainly made quite a catch.”

  Janelle was so pale she looked ill, and Megan’s heart filled with compassion.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Megan stammered.

  “At such times, silence is the best policy.”

  “I—I never meant for this to happen.”

  “Indeed?” Janelle’s brows arched. “You did catch us all by surprise. The dark horse rushing past the grandstand in sweeping triumph while the favorite was left at the gate.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “So am I. Not for myself. For Jeb. I will get over the hurt…in time. This kind of marriage so rarely works.”

  “He loves me.”

  Janelle’s eyes were luminous with mute misery and a deep pitying sadness. Finally she said, “I—I hope for his sake you are right.”

  Megan felt all the terrible doubts in her heart well up to haunt her.

  *