Straightening her spine against the hard chair, she said in a clear voice, “How dare you accuse me of using the boys. I happen to care a great deal about them.”
She drew in a quick, painful breath, and then went on, “Yes, Jake, I’m denying that what I feel for you is still the crush I had on you when I was seven. This feeling is so much more. God only knows why, but I love you, Jake Lassiter, with every breath in my body, with every fiber of my being.”
Chapter 19
Jake rolled over on his side, groaning deep. Lord, he craved that woman even more now than before he’d gotten a taste of her last night. His body hummed with remembrance.
And his head ached at the aftermath. CJ and Callie were one and the same. At first, he had a difficult time fitting the two together. The little girl with pigtails, hero worshipping him, pestering him, didn’t exactly mesh with the sexy, angelic independent lady who applied for the position.
But now, after sleeping on it, he felt a wealth of pride and admiration for the spunky kid turned fairy godmother.
And, if truth be told, he experienced hot, potent desire. His body throbbed as he replayed the exquisite lovemaking. Callie-soft, sweet, and so willing, he recalled, thinking reality far outweighed his best fantasies.
He wanted her. But at what price? he wondered. She claimed she loved him, which still shocked him to his core. She’d bewitch and beguile him until he became the man she wanted, losing himself, and most especially his freedom.
He wouldn’t allow anyone to steal that away from him, not now when it loomed so near. I’ve worked too hard for this, for my life.
Jake braced himself for the challenging task at hand: dismissing the most incredible night of passion of his entire life, obliterating the deep-seated yearning of his body, and forgetting the very seductive, very alluring enchantress.
Opening his eyes, he expected to find Callie asleep and hunched over the table. He found nothing. The cabin held no trace of her.
He bolted from the bed, and then raced outside. The day shone bright and clear, the sun peeking over the horizon.
Stepping off the porch, Jake sank into the soaked ground. Mud sucked at his bare feet, pulling him, holding him. Finally he made his way to the back of the cabin. Only his horse stood in the lean-to. Shock and disbelief crashed down upon his head. She’d left. Without a word, without waking him, she’d gone.
Slowly, he walked back to the porch. Halting at the open doorway, Jake studied the barren interior. Never before in his life had he glimpsed such yawning emptiness.
His carefully controlled emotional life had vanished the moment Callie entered it. In its place, chaos reigned, twisting and battering him as the fiercest bull ride never had to his scarred body. He should be thrilled to be well rid of her. But somehow, he couldn’t even muster up a smile.
***
Jake leaned his forearm on his saddle horn. The hot, blaring sun beat down on him. His quarter horse shifted beneath him, snorting as the dust swirled all around them. At this vantage point, set slightly apart from the others, Jake overlooked the third day of spring round-up.
Dodging, panicky cattle streamed in front of him, coaxed by skillful cowboys from the winter range and back to the ranch. The constant mooing protests, thunder-like hoof beats pounding at the ground, and sharp, piercing whistles and calls rose and blended in a rich, heart-warming symphony.
Jake scanned his surroundings, stopping once he picked out Callie. Longing swept through him. Desire, deeper and stronger than he’d ever felt before, consumed him since she’d left the cabin. Ten of the most highly charged, nerve shattering days of his existence, Jake mused.
Despite the underlying thick, oppressive tension residing between them, Callie communicated with him the same as before, teasing and persuasive, yet never crossing that distinct, crystal-clear line between employee and employer. It was the hidden words, the unspoken passion that bubbled and seethed, spewing out and enslaving them both to each other. Some invisible rope tethered her to him and vice versa, tugging on his heartstrings.
The air crackled with suppressed emotions. Frayed nerves began to surface. The boys, swept up with the current, teetered on the edge of an eruption of their own. Concerned for his cousins’ well-being, Jake contemplated a quick solution, but found no answers.
“Hey, son.” Gus guided his horse alongside Jake’s. Dragging out his neckerchief, Gus wiped his damp brow. “Looks like we didn’t lose that many head to the blustery winter. They should fetch a good price come fall after we fatten them up some over the summer.”
Jake grunted in agreement, his gaze still fastened on Callie. She wove Chessie expertly back and forth, cutting out the calves from the rest. A wealth of pride stole over him. She was damn good.
“Looks like you got yourself a real pro there.” Gus nodded to Callie, dragging Jake’s stare momentarily away.
“Yeah, looks that way.” He tried to keep his voice even and uninvolved. It didn’t seem to work.
“It’s none of my business…”
“That’s right, Gus, it isn’t.” His clipped, terse words warned of his lack of interest in discussing his personal life. Now if only the older man would understand.
Gus snickered. “Well, that’s never stopped me before, has it?”
Jake cringed, expecting the worst.
“Seems to me that that pretty filly and you had words. Now, Jake, I’m just as shocked as you to find out that Jasper’s little CJ turned out to be our Callie and one fine lady to boot. But, she didn’t mean any harm. She wasn’t trying to trick us or anything. Now, Flossie says—”
“Ah hell, here it comes,” Jake said in disgust, straightening in his saddle and pinning his foreman with a glare.
“Now hold up there, it ain’t bad. Flossie says Callie was only protecting herself. After all, you couldn’t expect her to stampede back into our lives and win us over by declaring herself as Jasper’s long-lost granddaughter, now could you?” He didn’t give Jake time to answer even if he wanted to. “No, you couldn’t. She eased in, letting us get to know her and like her. Your cousins took to her like a newborn calf to a teat, natural-like and mother-like.”
Jake ran it through his head, over and over again, finding little fault with Gus and Flossie’s musings. Callie faced suspicion and possible ostracizing if she’d galloped back into Montana on her high horse.
Looking at it like that, alienation seemed daunting and insurmountable for someone who only wanted to belong. He guessed he couldn’t blame her. But he realized it still hurt for her not to trust him with the information. Deep down, he knew he never would have given her a chance at proving herself as a fairy godmother or anything else if he’d known the truth.
Thank heavens I didn’t know, he thought, discovering how much he’d have missed, how much he’d have lost, not to mention what the boys would have never gained from knowing Callie. Magic. Adventure. Caring. A chance in a lifetime.
“And look at the way the cowhands get along with her. They appreciate how hard she works right alongside of them. They give her mighty high marks.”
Jake couldn’t disagree. But what Gus failed to point out was the way the men ogled her. He’d caught more than one eyeing the way her jeans stretched enticingly across her cute little bottom. Sharp, searing jealousy gripped his gut at the memory.
Gritting his teeth, Jake turned to his foreman. But, before he uttered one word, a flash out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. “What the hell?”
“Sweet Jesus, it’s Stan,” Gus cried.
Callie sped past Jake, following Stan’s runaway steed. Jake’s heart dropped to his knees. Waves of panic crashed down on him. Yanking on his reins and kicking his horse into action, Jake raced after the pair. “Not again,” he muttered, thinking that the record number of days the boys had stayed out of trouble had come to an abrupt, jarring end.
Hot, dusty air slapped his face and he held his breath. Squinting, he noticed Stan, still in the saddle, listing to the side. If
the boy tilted any farther, his weight would drag him to the ground. The risk of Stan being trampled under the horse’s pounding hooves increased tenfold. Icy fear clawed at Jake. He jabbed his heels into his mare, urging the animal to hustle.
Callie’s horse caught up with Stan first, matching stride for stride. She reached out, snagging a handful of Stan’s shirt. “I’ve got you,” she yelled, the wind whipping her words back to Jake.
Jake gained ground, galloping, and then nearly overtaking Stan’s mount. Stretching, Jake grabbed Stan’s belt, curling his fingers over the leather strap in a death-like grip. “Take the reins, Callie! Slow his mount down and make yours follow suit. I’ll do the same to mine.”
She must have heard; she did as he bade. For heart-stopping, long minutes, she eased the horses’ pace from an all-out neck-breaking gallop, to a teeth-chattering trot, to a strutting canter, down to a slow walk, and then a complete halt.
Sweat dripped from Jake’s forehead as he yanked Stan, along with his saddle, to an upright position. The boy barely resembled himself. His chalk-like, pasty flesh, pulled tight over his cheekbones, and round, wide eyes, minus the glasses, seemed to say it all. He’d had one hell of a scare.
“Come on, I’ll help you down.” Jake pulled, but met resistance. Looking, he noticed Stan’s white-knuckled grasp on the saddle horn. Jake chuckled.
Callie’s laughter followed, warming his heart and sweeping away the remnants of his anxiety.
“You can let go now, Stan,” Callie said, casting a sunny smile to Jake, her first genuine smile in ten days. Tiny thrills shot down his spine.
“I can’t,” Stan whispered. “But once I’m down, I’m never getting on a horse again.”
A sliver of alarm snared Jake. He grew concerned at the conviction in Stan’s hoarsely spoken words. Glancing at Callie, he saw the lingering mirth in her eyes and knew she’d fix everything. Wasn’t that part and parcel for his fairy godmother anyway?
***
Callie stood, squashed between Les in front of her and Jake behind her, in the lunch line. She waited patiently for Lance to dole out each cowhand’s heaping portion. But her mind stayed fixated on the disturbing cowboy brushing against her back. Jake’s presence, so close and so agonizing, unnerved her. I love him so much it hurts.
His brief, tantalizing touches sent quivers along her nerve endings. His breath, hot and sweet, tickled her neck and fanned the embers of her desire she barely kept suppressed. Memories of that one sizzling night of unrestrained passion bubbled to the surface of her mind.
She detected Jake’s musky scent floating around her in a cloud-like oasis. Licking her lips, she recalled the way he tasted from that night, rich and honeyed.
That night, she thought, that earth-shattering experience branded itself in every fiber of her being. If she hoped spending time in his arms would appease the deep, tugging sensation in her core, she’d discovered otherwise.
In fact, the yearning hunger grew in epic proportions, obliterating nearly everything else. She knew that years from now, on her deathbed, that would be the last achingly blissful time she’d reminisce about, dying with a soft, lingering smile on her lips.
For now, she had little sanity to hang on to, except her job. At least I still have that, she mused, amazed he hadn’t fired her on the spot, yet knowing he kept her on only for his cousins’ welfare.
The cold, hard truth stung: She and Jake had become strangers after being lovers. He needed time to accept her, accept the changes.
But dare she wait for him to come back to her? Would he even want to? Was it hopeless?
Pushing him would do her little good, perhaps even creating a wider chasm between them. The unbearable length of passing days without a shift in the tense, suffocating situation only added to her despair. The longer she did nothing, the more likely he’d plot his freedom from her, forever.
She had no choice but to do something, anything, to shake him out of this lethargy. Humor had always worked wonders for her in the past. But would it work now?
Jake reached around, clasping her left hand, surprising her. His hand-warm, large and strong-cupped hers tenderly. An electric current zapped her from the point of contact, traveling swiftly along her sensitive flesh.
“Your hand,” he said, stroking his thumb over her raw, red chafed palm where the reins bit into her when she helped rescue Stan. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Accusation ran in his tone. She sensed it had more to do with her being CJ than her battered flesh.
“It’s nothing, really.” Her voice sounded breathy even to her own ears. But for the life of her, she didn’t possess enough strength to pull her hand free of his erotic, sensual touch. She’d dream about this for days now.
“See that you put something on it,” he said gruffly, dropping her hand and nudging her forward when Les departed with his steaming hot chuck wagon stew and several mouthwatering biscuits. Jake’s hand pressed into the small of her back, guiding her, arousing her.
***
Several minutes later, Jake hunkered down across from a still shaking Stan. Callie sat beside Stan, cross-legged and quietly munching on a biscuit.
“I should have learned how to cook like Lance,” Marvin muttered, walking gingerly past. “I doubt if my legs or butt will ever be the same again.”
Jake smiled knowingly. The first spring round-up for anyone proved to be the hardest. The boys would toughen up soon and learn to love it just as he did.
“Howdy, folks,” Gus said, joining the loosely formed circle of cowhands eating their noontime meal. “Sure smells good. Aren’t you going to even take a taste, Stan?”
“I’m not hungry.” Stan looked green as he set his plate on the grass beside him.
“Don’t let a little ride scare you, kid,” Lester said, finishing his meal and pulling out a fresh toothpick from his top pocket. “Happens to the best of us when the horse puffs up when we saddle her. All you gotta do is tap them on the underbelly and whoosh, they let all the air out, then you can get the cinch strap nice and tight.”
“Thanks, Les, but I’m not getting back on a horse. Ever.” He spat the last word, throwing down a challenge.
Jake’s belly dipped as if a bull charged him. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he shot the boy a quelling glare.
“I’m not, Jake. And you can’t make me! If I’ve got to stay on this ranch and help with the round-ups then I’m getting a dirt bike or a four-wheeler.”
“Hey,” Marvin piped up. “What about a helicopter? I’ll take lessons and by this time next year, I can fly it during round-up season. It’ll be awesome swooping down and herding cattle that way.”
The bull not only charged Jake but kicked him in the gut as well. He nearly grunted out loud at the physical reaction to their plans. Tossing his half-empty plate aside, Jake said, “Not on your life. This ranch always has been and always will be run on tradition. We do things the old-fashioned way, where a hard day’s work means something and we work side by side on horseback.”
Gus pointed out, “Well, son, who’s to stop him if you ain’t here?”
A wave of anger washed over Jake, leaving him hot and boiling. He scowled at the silent gawking men surrounding him, and then at Callie. Sympathy chased across her face, jolting him. He didn’t want her pity. He stood abruptly, and then stalked off, muttering, “Ah hell!”
Chapter 20
Jake leaned his forearms on the top rail of the holding pen for the calves. The animals, pressed together, cried woefully, missing their mothers.
A coil of rope sat inside Jake, wound up tight. The gnawing sensation eating away at his chest never ceased. Blowing out a puff of hot air, he shoved his hat to the back of his head and pressed his forehead on his clasped hands.
He couldn’t force his cousins into doing a damn thing. And once he left, they would have the run of the place, including adding a heap of new gadgets and machinery. If he wanted the place run like Duke wished, Jake knew he’d have to stay for the duration.
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br /> The part of him that still hankered after his freedom lashed out, plaguing and stabbing at his mind. And the need to still prove himself reared its head. He couldn’t give up his last chance at the championship.
At least when Duke had been alive, Jake hadn’t felt so tied down to the place, didn’t have to worry about every little detail, every piece of paper.
He’d ridden, roped, and come and gone every spring as he pleased. But everything had changed the moment Duke had died. The burden and duties had crashed down on Jake’s shoulders, smothering him.
And then his aunt and uncle had been killed. Being the guys’ only living relative, at least on paper, he couldn’t turn his back on them.
But the overwhelming responsibility of raising them, of being saddled to the ranch for years to come, had nearly suffocated him.
And it didn’t look like it would get better any time soon; each day he began to realize how unsuited the trio were for this lifestyle. Stan’s rebellion was only the latest proof in the growing list of incidences.
“Hey, Cowboy, you keeping that post all to yourself?” Callie’s voice sounded like music to his ears, soft and lilting.
He felt the corners of his mouth lift upward of their own accord. Twisting his head, he caught a glimpse of her. His heart rate beat an erratic rhythm at her sassy, sexy smile.
A flicker of pain came and went from her eyes, pain he bet he’d inflicted. His gut clenched. He straightened, keeping one arm on the rail and putting the other hand on his hip. “I don’t suppose I really get a say-so in the matter.”
She giggled, reminding him of little CJ. A warmth stole over him, chasing away the dark shadows of a second ago.
“Nope, you don’t.” Tilting her head to the side, she said, “You know if it were up to you and me, we’d still have cattle trails to move the herd.” She sighed wistfully. “Unfortunately, the modern world thinks otherwise. But, just once, I would love to do it like they did in the olden days, wouldn’t you? Gramps used to tell me the most wonderful tales passed down from generation to generation about the hot, dusty trails.”
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