Darling Jenny

by Janet Dailey

  'See how it swirls around the corner, like whipped frosting on a cake,' she said quickly.

  Logan smiled affectionately as his eyes travelled over her face framed by the pale beige hood of her coat. 'You either have a very sweet tooth or you didn't eat your breakfast this morning.'

  'Who wants oatmeal?' Jennifer grinned impishly. 'A big dish of fresh snow with milk and sugar sounds much better!'

  'So it's snow you're wanting,' said Logan, setting the logs on the ground with a devilish gleam in his eye.

  'Logan Taylor, don't you dare!' she squealed as she watched him pick up a clump of snow and pat it in his hand.

  She turned just as he threw it and it splattered on her back. Quickly he started pelting her with snowballs while Jennifer fought desperately to retaliate. In seconds she was laughing and stumbling towards the cabin. A well-aimed white projectile hit her in the leg, and she fell headlong into a towering snowbank. With Logan's assistance she rolled breathlessly over on to her back, giggling happily as she tried to sputter the snow out of her mouth while be laughingly brushed the snow off her face. Her hood had fallen back and the red-gold of her hair was accented by the whiteness of her headrest. The corners of his eyes were crinkled into deep lines, his dimples were deep clefts, as he rested poised above her prone body.

  Suddenly the suggestiveness of her position struck Jennifer and her smile slowly sobered at the same instant his did.

  'No,' she whispered as she began to struggle to get to her feet, but he quickly pinned her arms to her side.

  'You've been expecting something like this ever since you met me,' he said quietly with a gleam in his eyes that Jennifer had never seen before. 'I certainly wouldn't want to disappoint you.'

  Then his lips covered hers, persuasively and yet demanding a response that she wasn't willing to give. She fought the acclamation of her senses to answer the rising, hungry warmth in her body, to yield to the erratic beat of her heart. She didn't want to enjoy the possessive tenderness of his kiss. He was like Brad; she should be revolted by his embrace. But resistance only increased her desire to return the warmth and fire he was bestowing on her. In horror, she realized her lips were moving, responding to the exquisite pressure of his. Instinct had taken over while the war of logic and experience had battled in her mind.

  Swiftly she turned her face away, tugging and pulling her arms free.

  'He hurt you badly.' Logan studied her grimly as she moved farther away from him, scooting in the snow.

  'What are you talking about?' Jennifer asked in a hoarse whisper.

  'The man you left behind you.'

  'No,' Jennifer answered firmly, anger flashing in her eyes. 'He didn't hurt me—my stupidity and ignorance did. I didn't recognize a wolf when he was standing in front of me. I was too blinded by charm and good looks.'

  'And now?'

  'And now I can see through any disguise. I just hope my sister can,' she answered sarcastically.

  He stepped towards her threateningly, then halted when a jingling noise pierced the winter air. Logan turned his head away from her, exhaling slowly, before turning back to study her defiant expression.

  'That'll be Carmichael. He's hitched up his horse to pull the jeep out of the snow,' he told her. 'You'd better get your things together in the cabin.' As Jennifer started to walk away, he added, 'Don't expect an apology. You enjoyed that kiss as much as I did, and if you weren't a hypocrite you'd admit it.'

  She stared at him, tears stinging her eyes. Why had she let him know she was attracted by him? Why had she put such a weapon in his hands?

  'Men like you always arouse the baser instincts!' Jennifer shouted in a trembling voice. 'Including self-preservation!'

  Quickly she raced towards the cabin, not prepared to engage in a further battle of wits with Logan Taylor. She had salvaged a piece of her pride, and she was content with that.

  After the jeep was finally freed from its snowbound bed, the short distance into Jackson, Wyoming was covered in less than twenty minutes. Patches of sunlight filtered through the thick billowy clouds to allow Jennifer to see the breathtaking mountains with black dots of trees covering their slopes. As the highway made its last curve through the mountains into the peaceful small town, she turned towards Logan, her thoughts full of questions she longed to ask even as she dreaded to break the silence.

  'The town got its name from an early trapper named Jackson,' Logan informed her perceptively. 'In those early days, all valleys surrounded by mountains were called "holes" by the mountain men. Since Davey Jackson preferred trapping here over any other place, his partner referred to it as "Jackson's Hole". Gradually the "s" was dropped to make it just plain Jackson Hole.'

  'What about the mountains, the Grand Tetons?' Jennifer asked, too interested in finding out more information to worry about the source. 'Did they get their names from the Indians?'

  'No, as a matter of fact,' Logan replied, as he maneuvered the jeep off the main street on to one of the side streets, 'the three highest peaks in the range were named by some French-speaking fur trappers as Les Trois Tetons, or the Three Breasts, with the largest being Le Grand Teton.'

  'Oh,' Jennifer's reply was an embarrassed murmur.

  'I'll take you to Sheila's house. She's probably down at the Lodge, but at least we can drop your suitcases off.' They turned a corner and slowed down in front of a picturesque pine log house. 'There's her car,' Logan went on, nodding towards a small blue car parked directly in front of them. 'Looks like you're in luck.'

  A huge St. Bernard dog came bounding around the comer of the house, barking ferociously while his tail wagged frantically.

  'That's the first member of your welcoming committee,' Logan smiled as he opened his door and stepped out. His smile to her had been so disturbingly male that Jennifer had remained temporarily motionless even after it had been turned away from her. She knew with sudden clarity that this would not be the last time that his stunning virility would bring a weakness to her bones. At last, his 'Down, Rags, down!' brought her hand to the door latch, and she walked around the jeep to join him.

  From the same side of the house that had produced the dog now ecstatically licking Logan's face, came two more racing bundles, one in red and another in blue.

  'Uncle Logan, Uncle Logan!' the blue one cried. He was larger and faster than the red one who just reached them as the blue one flung himself into Logan's arms. 'We been so worried!'

  Jennifer watched with a mixture of disbelief and wonder at the exuberant welcome, as Logan scooped the red bundle up in his other arm, gazing laughingly into the cherry red cheeks of both children.

  'Mommy thaid you would come latht night,' the red one announced. The lisp immediately brought a smile to Jennifer as she recognized the face under the hood. It was Cindy.

  'Your Aunt Jenny and I got stuck in a snowdrift,' Logan explained, glancing over at Jennifer with a twinkling gleam in his brown eyes. 'We had to wait until this morning before we could be pulled out. Now, where's your mother?'

  'She's in the house,' said Eric as Logan set the two of them on to the ground. 'Did you stay in the snowdrift all night?'

  'No, we stayed at a house nearby,' Logan answered patiently, rubbing the red hood of the other affectionately. 'You'd better say hello to your aunt before she decides you're not even glad to see her.'

  Dutifully the colourful pair turned to Jennifer and murmured their greeting. Well, she certainly couldn't expect much more, Jennifer thought. The children had only seen her a few times since Sheila had moved here. How were they to remember the hours she had held them as babies when her sister had stayed with their folks while Eric was overseas? She watched wistfully as they raced to the house, followed by the ungainly St. Bernard. She felt Logan's gaze dwelling on her and turned.

  'A little surprised by my welcome?' he mocked.

  'Why should I be?' Jennifer shrugged lightly.

  'They say dogs and children are instinctively right about people.'

  A stinging reto
rt rose to Jennifer's lips, but was held back as her sister came running from the house. Logan was amused at the stifling of her anger as she turned to exchange a hugging greeting with Sheila. She was grateful that Sheila took hold of the conversation, asking questions too fast to allow more than a 'yes' or 'no' answer. She had time to cool down and ignore the very nearly smirking expression on his face. Quickly they were all ushered into the house, and the suitcases were dumped unceremoniously in the centre of the tiny living room.

  'There's coffee and sweet rolls in the kitchen,' Sheila announced. 'I'm sure you could do with a coffee break before lunch.'

  'I'll have to take a raincheck on that, Sheila,' Logan replied. 'I'm sure Mom is worried about me, so I'd better run over there before heading out to the ranch.'

  'Oh, you can call her from here,' Sheila insisted, a pleading sparkle in her striking eyes.

  'As she would tell you, hearing a voice over the phone is not the same as seeing someone in person,' Logan laughed, his soft gaze trailing over Sheila's black hair down to the teasing smile on her face. 'Besides, you and Jenny will want to have some time together before you have to go to the Lodge.'

  'Jenny?' Sheila laughed, glancing over to her sister mischievously at Logan's nickname for her. 'Oh, that must have endeared you to her heart.'

  'Jenny Glenn and I,' he paused, gazing speculatively at the smouldering expression on Jennifer's face, 'have made quite an impression on each other. It was a trip I wouldn't have missed for anything.' One corner of his mouth curved mockingly. 'I'd really better go now, Sheila.'

  'Don't go, Uncle Logan,' Eric begged. 'Cin and me wanted you to build a snow-fort.'

  'Another time, maybe,' he answered firmly, but with a promised nod.

  'Since you really must leave,' Sheila sighed, taking his hands in hers, 'then let me thank you for picking Jennifer up and bringing her here.'

  Jennifer watched in gnawing agony as her sister reached up and brushed Logan's cheeks lightly with her lips. She felt her worst fears were coming true. Her sister was emotionally involved with this man. She longed to reach out and scratch his eyes when he finally turned to her in his round of good-byes.

  'Good-bye, Jenny Glen. I'll see you,' he promised.

  'Jenny Glenn,' Sheila echoed with a twinkle as the front door slammed behind the departing man.

  'Please don't you start in with that,' Jennifer grimaced.

  'I rather like it. It has a ring to it,' her sister teased. 'I wonder why we never called you that before.'

  'Probably because of mother's aversion to nicknames, which I heartily endorse.' A frown creased her smooth forehead as she turned away from Sheila. It looked as if it didn't matter what Logan did, it was all right in her sister's eyes.

  'Aunt Jenny, do you want to thee my room?' Cindy asked, 'I have lotth of toyth and thingth.'

  'Later, Cindy,' Sheila hushed her quickly, sensitive to her younger sister's pensiveness. 'You and Eric run out and play for a while. And for heaven's sake, take Rags with you.'

  In seconds she had them bustled out the door and had turned back to Jennifer.

  'Come on. Let's go into the kitchen and get some of that coffee. Then you can tell me everything,' Sheila instructed sympathetically, taking Jennifer by the arm and leading her through the living room.

  Jennifer didn't tell her everything. Certainly she didn't mention her misgivings about Logan Taylor nor the embarrassing situation the previous night and the following scene in the morning. Sheila seemed to hold a very high opinion of him, one that Jennifer didn't want to alter at this time. As quickly as possible she had changed the subject of their conversation to Sheila, the children and the Lodge where Sheila worked.

  Her sister had explained her hesitancy of constantly shuffling the children to Eric's parents on the weekends and as in today's cases during school vacations. His parents were quite elderly, making her two livewires quite a handful for them. Jennifer had gladly volunteered to take care of them and fall in occasionally at the Lodge to give Sheila more free time.

  In the days that followed, a pattern developed that not only brought Jennifer and her sister closer together but also Jennifer and the children. It was fun messing around in the kitchen again, fixing meals for a family, taking care of all the numerous little household chores that had grown into a burden for Sheila. As for Brad Stevenson, he quickly became a case of 'out of sight, out of mind'. Jennifer wished that Logan Taylor would be that easy. If it wasn't the children saying, 'Uncle Logan this' or 'Uncle Logan that', it was Sheila with 'Logan suggested' or 'Logan said.' No, the unwanted reminders were ever-present. But in the eight days that she had been in Jackson, Jennifer had not been subjected to his unwanted presence. She decided she should be grateful for that. At least, she wouldn't have to put up with that knowing smile of his, although she could hardly deny that his image haunted her. Naturally it was because his name was forever cropping up.

  Sheila had had the afternoon free today and had insisted that Jennifer spend some time taking care of her personal chores. Since she did have some Christmas shopping still to be done, Jennifer reluctantly agreed. The children had been easy to buy for, but she wanted to take more time selecting just the right present for her sister. Her previous expeditions into town had been in the company of Cindy and Eric, who were not given to idle wondering through the stores. As it was, Jennifer had been in three stores before she found a matching sweater and slacks outfit in blue that would ideally suit Sheila.

  With the gift-wrapped package under her arm, Jennifer dashed across the street to the town square where she paused briefly in front of the antlered archway that marked the path entrance through the square. She had seen it several times, but to Eric and Cindy it was old hat, not worth the extra seconds that Jennifer had longed for to study it.

  The intricate network of interlocking antlers as they weaved in and out and up and over to form this strange arch amazed her. She had soon learned that antlers and trophy heads were commonplace decorations in Jackson; even the Lodge where Sheila worked had several large trophies of Big Horn sheep in the lobby, appropriately, since its name was Big Horn Lodge. But this arch was a magnificent work.

  'Don't try to count them, because there's too many,' a voice behind her spoke.

  Jennifer spun quickly around to see Logan Taylor standing beside her, gazing down at her with a speculative gleam in his eye.

  'I wasn't counting,' she replied abruptly.

  'Just admiring our quaint western novelty?' he retorted just a trifle sarcastically.

  'Yes, if you must know. I find it fascinating,' Jennifer answered scathingly.

  'Most people do. They're all elkhorns, you know.'

  'How did they find so many?' she mused to herself, looking once again at the arch.

  'It's not difficult at all, really. North of the town is the winter refuge of the elk or "wapiti", their Indian name. All the males shed their horns once a year, just as the deer do,' Logan explained.

  She was uncomfortably aware of his eyes on her, feeling again the quickening of her pulse.

  'I heard someone mention the refuge, but I hadn't really thought too much about it. How many elk are out there?' Her voice had a nervous lilt to it as she tried to keep the conversation on an impersonal level.

  'From six to eight thousand.'

  'That many?' Jennifer exclaimed. 'What do they do with all the horns?'

  'Only the bull elk have antlers,' Logan laughed. 'Each spring the Boy Scouts gather the antlers and have an auction here on the town square, with the proceeds going towards scouting activities.' He stopped abruptly as she turned to face him. She felt caught by his demanding gaze. 'It's cold standing here on the corner,' he finally spoke. 'Come have a cup of hot chocolate with me?'

  'I…' she shook her head hesitantly. She didn't want to be with him, to let his maleness arouse that physical attraction she tried to stifle.

  'Afraid?'

  'Of course not!' Jennifer retorted, suddenly finding the voice that had forsaken he
r a minute ago.

  'We'll go to the "public" restaurant down the street,' Logan stated with a chiding emphasis on 'public'. 'You can see the skiers come down Snow King Mountain.'

  'All right,' Jennifer gave in reluctantly, unable to think of a satisfactory excuse not to go. She quickly quelled the thought that secretly she wanted to go with him. The very idea was preposterous.

  His arm rested lightly and uncomfortably naturally across her waist in back. Despite the thickness of her coat she could feel the flat of his hand guiding her along.

  'I see you're still wearing those silly boots,' he said, a smile teasing down at her.

  'The walks are all shovelled, and it didn't seem necessary to wear my new ones,' Jennifer replied evenly.

  'Then you did get some real boots.' His brown eyes glinted down on her rosy red cheeks that dashed with the coppery red colour in her hair.

  'They're so bulky I feel like a lumberjack in them,' she laughed.

  'And you once accused me of being vain, Jenny Glenn,' Logan baited her lightly as he turned her towards the restaurant door.

  'Stop calling me that!' she answered sharply in a lowered voice, angered that she had succumbed to his easy charm and hating the skipping beat of her heart for reacting to his caressing abbreviation of her name. 'Arrogant is a better word than vain for you.'

  'And here I thought that you had mellowed towards me,' he said with false regret as he pulled out a chair for her facing the window near the front. 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.'

  'You've seldom been absent,' she retorted frostily as soon as Logan was seated opposite her. At the quizzical raise of his eyebrow, Jennifer explained, 'If it isn't Sheila telling me of your many virtues than it's the children raving on about "Uncle Logan". Why do they call you "uncle"? Whose idea was that?'

  The waitress came at that moment, delaying Logan's answer until after he had ordered for them.

  'It was the children's idea. One that neither Sheila nor I saw any harm in.' His expression was serious with a lordly tilt to his head as he answered. 'I imagine they felt they were staking a claim on me, making me an honorary member of their family. They take it seriously, and so do I.'