Adam by Joan Johnston Page B

I’ll make sure you’re satisfied, little girl. ”
    Tate pulled the sheet free of the mattress and wrapped it around herself as best she could. “Good night, Adam. I think I’ll sleep better in my own bed.”
    He watched her go without saying another word. The instant she was gone he pounded a fist into the mattress.
    â€œDamn you, Tate Whitelaw!”
    She had made him wish for something he could never have. She had offered him the moon and the stars. All he had to do was bare his soul to her. And take the heart-wrenching chance that she would reject what little he could offer in return.

CHAPTER 7
    T HE TEARS T ATE HAD refused to let Adam see her shed fell with a vengeance once she was alone. But she hadn’t been raised to give up or give in. Before long Tate had brushed the tears aside and begun to plan how best to make Adam eat his words.
    If Adam hadn’t cared for her at least a little, Tate reasoned, he wouldn’t have been so upset by her taunt that she would seek out Buck. She was certain that Adam’s jealousy could be a powerful weapon in her battle to convince him that they belonged together. Especially since Adam had admitted that he was willing to take extreme measures—even making love to her!—to keep her away from Buck. Tate intended to seek Buck out and let the green-eyed monster eat Adam alive.
    It was with some distress and consternation that Tate realized over the next several days that Adam had somehow turned the tables on her. He was the one who found excuses to send her off alone with Buck. And he did it with a smile on his face.
    Where was the green-eyed monster? Was it possible Adam really didn’t care? He was obviously pushing her in Buck’s direction. Was this some sort of test? Did he expect her to fall into Buck’s arms? Did he want her to?
    If Tate was unsure of Adam’s intentions, he was no less confused himself. He had woken up the morning after making love to Tate and realized that somewhere between the moment she had first flashed that gamine smile at him and the moment he had claimed her with his body, he had fallen in love with her. It was an appalling realization, coming, as it had, after he had insulted and rejected her.
    Loving Tate meant being willing to do what was best for her—even if it meant giving her up. He had made the selflessly noble—if absurd—decision that if, after the way he had treated her, she would rather be with Buck, he would not stand in her way. So he had made excuses for them to be alone together. And suffered the agonies of the damned, wondering whether Buck was taking advantage of the time to make love to her.
    One or the other of them might have relented and honestly admitted their feelings, but they weren’t given the chance before circumstances caused the tension-fraught situation to explode.
    Adam had gritted his teeth and nobly sent Tate off with Buck to the Saturday night dance at the Grange Hall in Knippa, not realizing that they were stopping to pick up Velma on the way.
    Tate didn’t lack for partners at the dance, but she was on her way to a wretchedly lonely evening nonetheless—because the one person she wanted to be with wasn’t there. She refused a cowboy the next dance so she could catch her breath. Unfortunately, that gave her time to think.
    She found herself admitting that she might as well give up on her plan to make Adam jealous, mainly because it wasn’t working. If he truly didn’t want her, she would have to leavethe Lazy S. Because she couldn’t stand to be around him knowing that the love she felt would never be returned.
    An altercation on the dance floor dragged Tate from her morose reflections. She was on her feet an instant later when she realized that one of the two men slugging away at each other was Buck Magnesson.
    She reached Velma’s side and shouted over the ruckus, “What happened? Why are they