noticed. So why had she doused herself with perfume before going for a ride by herself?
The answer dawned on her with blinding clarity. âSheâs got a boyfriend!â she whispered to herself, almost overcome with shock. Jessie was slipping around behind Webbâs back and seeing someone! Roanna almost suffocated on her indignation on Webbâs behalf. How could
any
woman, even Jessie, be fool enough to jeopardize her marriage to him?
Quickly she saddled Buckley, her current favorite, and setout in the same direction sheâd seen Jessie take. The big gelding had a long, slightly uneven gait that would have been jarring to a less experienced rider but covered distance at a fast clip. Roanna was used to his stride and settled herself into his rhythm, moving fluidly with the motion as she kept her eyes on the ground, following the fresh imprints of Jessieâs horse.
Part of her didnât believe Jessie really had a boyfriendâit was just too good to be true, and besides, Jessie was too smart to drop her bread butter-side downâbut she couldnât resist the tantalizing possibility that she might be right. Gleefully she began plotting some vague revenge against Jessie for the years of hurts and slights, though she didnât know exactly what she could do. Real revenge wasnât part of Roannaâs makeup. She was far more likely to punch Jessie in the nose than she was to plot and carry through some long-term plan, and she would get a lot more enjoyment out of it. But she simply couldnât pass up the opportunity to catch Jessie doing something she shouldnât; it was usually she who was goofing up and Jessie who was pointing it out.
She didnât want to overtake Jessie too quickly, so she reined Buckley to a walk. The July sun broiled down so white and merciless that it should have washed out the colors of the trees, but it didnât. The top of her head burned from the heat. Usually she crammed a baseball cap on her head, but she was still dressed in the silk blend slacks and shirt she had worn to lunch, and the baseball cap, like her boots, was in her bedroom.
Dawdling was easy in that heat. She stopped and let Buckley drink from a small stream, then resumed her leisurely tracking. There was a slight breeze blowing into her face, which was why Buckley caught the scent of Jessieâs mount and gave a soft whicker, alerting her. She immediately backtracked, not wanting the other horse to alert Jessie to her presence.
After tethering Buckley to a small pine, she quietly madeher way through the trees and up a small hill. Her thin-soled sandals slipped on the pine needles, and she impatiently kicked them off, then clambered barefooted the rest of the way to the top.
Jessieâs mount was about forty yards below and to the left, calmly cropping a small patch of grass. A large, mosscovered rock jutted up just over the crest of the hill, and Roanna crept over to crouch behind its bulk. Carefully she peeked around it, trying to locate Jessie. She could hear voices, she thought, but the sounds were odd, not really words.
Then she saw them, almost directly below her, and sank weakly against the hot surface of the rock, shock clanging through her body. She had thought to catch Jessie meeting with one of her friends from the country club, maybe necking a little, but not
this
. Her own sexual experience was so severely limited that she couldnât have formed the images in her mind.
A bush partially concealed them, but still she could see the blanket, Jessieâs pale, slim body, and the darker, more muscled form of the man on top of her. They were both stark naked, he was moving, and she was clinging to him, and they were both making sounds that made Roanna cringe. She couldnât tell who he was, could only see the top and back of his dark head. But then he moved off Jessie, rising up on his knees, and Roanna swallowed hard as she stared at him, her eyes huge. She had never
The answer dawned on her with blinding clarity. âSheâs got a boyfriend!â she whispered to herself, almost overcome with shock. Jessie was slipping around behind Webbâs back and seeing someone! Roanna almost suffocated on her indignation on Webbâs behalf. How could
any
woman, even Jessie, be fool enough to jeopardize her marriage to him?
Quickly she saddled Buckley, her current favorite, and setout in the same direction sheâd seen Jessie take. The big gelding had a long, slightly uneven gait that would have been jarring to a less experienced rider but covered distance at a fast clip. Roanna was used to his stride and settled herself into his rhythm, moving fluidly with the motion as she kept her eyes on the ground, following the fresh imprints of Jessieâs horse.
Part of her didnât believe Jessie really had a boyfriendâit was just too good to be true, and besides, Jessie was too smart to drop her bread butter-side downâbut she couldnât resist the tantalizing possibility that she might be right. Gleefully she began plotting some vague revenge against Jessie for the years of hurts and slights, though she didnât know exactly what she could do. Real revenge wasnât part of Roannaâs makeup. She was far more likely to punch Jessie in the nose than she was to plot and carry through some long-term plan, and she would get a lot more enjoyment out of it. But she simply couldnât pass up the opportunity to catch Jessie doing something she shouldnât; it was usually she who was goofing up and Jessie who was pointing it out.
She didnât want to overtake Jessie too quickly, so she reined Buckley to a walk. The July sun broiled down so white and merciless that it should have washed out the colors of the trees, but it didnât. The top of her head burned from the heat. Usually she crammed a baseball cap on her head, but she was still dressed in the silk blend slacks and shirt she had worn to lunch, and the baseball cap, like her boots, was in her bedroom.
Dawdling was easy in that heat. She stopped and let Buckley drink from a small stream, then resumed her leisurely tracking. There was a slight breeze blowing into her face, which was why Buckley caught the scent of Jessieâs mount and gave a soft whicker, alerting her. She immediately backtracked, not wanting the other horse to alert Jessie to her presence.
After tethering Buckley to a small pine, she quietly madeher way through the trees and up a small hill. Her thin-soled sandals slipped on the pine needles, and she impatiently kicked them off, then clambered barefooted the rest of the way to the top.
Jessieâs mount was about forty yards below and to the left, calmly cropping a small patch of grass. A large, mosscovered rock jutted up just over the crest of the hill, and Roanna crept over to crouch behind its bulk. Carefully she peeked around it, trying to locate Jessie. She could hear voices, she thought, but the sounds were odd, not really words.
Then she saw them, almost directly below her, and sank weakly against the hot surface of the rock, shock clanging through her body. She had thought to catch Jessie meeting with one of her friends from the country club, maybe necking a little, but not
this
. Her own sexual experience was so severely limited that she couldnât have formed the images in her mind.
A bush partially concealed them, but still she could see the blanket, Jessieâs pale, slim body, and the darker, more muscled form of the man on top of her. They were both stark naked, he was moving, and she was clinging to him, and they were both making sounds that made Roanna cringe. She couldnât tell who he was, could only see the top and back of his dark head. But then he moved off Jessie, rising up on his knees, and Roanna swallowed hard as she stared at him, her eyes huge. She had never
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