by Leah Vale
Only folks in a place like Jester would think nothing of holding an outdoor festival during March in southern Montana.
Jack smiled at the thought. It was little wonder Caroline had loved it here so. She’d been the intrepid sort. The type to build her own picket fence while he’d been at work. Or drive herself to her obstetrician instead of scheduling the appointment when he could have taken her. The scar that day had left on his heart throbbed in a rhythm he’d strangely grown used to. There was something comforting in the pain, much less disturbing than these new stirrings of awareness of Melinda.
As if on cue, Melinda tromped into the pavilion, stomping her feet to knock the snow from her boots. She had the same can-do spirit as Caroline had. Funny how he’d never noticed the similarity before. Although in every other aspect they were completely different.
Caroline had been tall with shoulder-length, straight brown hair and blue eyes. She hadn’t been the least bit shy around anyone, whereas Melinda needed time before she allowed her true personality to shine through. And boy, how it shined.
He thought of the excited look on her face as they hunted for the dog’s tracks around the tree just a while ago and the fire in her eyes when she railed against the injustice of the Websters’ prejudices. Not to mention the funny names she’d given the animals she’d rescued and the love and commitment she showed them. She was like a Montana agate, only showing her beauty to those who took the time to look beneath the surface. But Melinda’s surface wasn’t so bad, either.
Her hair carried a light dusting of powdery snow, and when she shook it off, flipping her long curls from side to side as she approached him, Jack found himself solidly grounded in the present. When had she become so damn gorgeous?
To redirect his wayward thoughts, he asked, “Any luck?”
She opened one hand and held up a wadded ball of plastic. “Found this, but no dog. Obviously you struck out, too.”
“Yep.” The reflective glow of the snow didn’t penetrate far into the pavilion, so he took the plastic from her hand and examined it as best he could in the gloom. “This is what he had in his mouth, all right, and it doesn’t look like he ate any of it. I guess we don’t have to worry about him choking tonight.”
“Thank heavens. I wasn’t exactly in the mood to give a stray dog mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
Jack’s gaze dropped automatically to her full lips and his body pulsed to attention. The image of her mouth covering his, of their breath—and tongues—mingling while mouth to mouth made him instantly hard. There was a growing chemistry between them that he could no longer ignore. “That would have been one lucky dog if you had.”
She stilled. “Oh, yeah?”
The hopeful thread in her tone had him shifting toward her. Could it be she felt the attraction, too? Had she been doing more than simply playing along when she molded her body against his on the dance floor? He searched for an answer on her upturned face in the dim light. “Yeah.”
Then she licked her lips, and a desire he hadn’t felt in five long years roared to life. Though there was no one around to witness it, Jack wanted to kiss her right here, right now, and kiss her damn good.
Without further thought, he leaned down and captured her lips with his. Her mouth was soft and yielding and perfect. When she returned the kiss, sucking his lower lip slightly between her own, the want she’d kindled exploded in his gut and traveled through his veins with white-hot intensity.
He reached up and held her face in his hands, her skin satin smooth and warm to the touch, then deepened the kiss until her mouth opened beneath his. She was so hot and inviting that it seemed the most natural thing to taste her, delving deep with his tongue.
She moaned and swayed against him, gripping his sides, her own tongue meeting his with a seductive stroke. The buzz of pleasure became a roar in his head. He wanted to devour her, to bury himself deep inside her. He thrust his tongue deeper and tilted his pelvis against her, wanting to connect with her, to be inside her everywhere.
But this is Melinda a voice from somewhere within the haze of desire reminded him. Definitely no longer Mel, but still a woman he considered a true friend for going along with the charade he’d forced upon her. It wouldn’t be fair to her to take their pretend relationship beyond just for show.
Because he still intended to leave the town that she had embraced as her home.
And the town needed a vet.
He eased out of the kiss, exerting all his willpower not to go back for more when she trailed after his mouth with light, eager kisses.
He hadn’t realized how hard he was breathing until she rested her forehead against his chest and he felt her head rise and fall. He slipped his hands into her thick hair and held her against him as he struggled for control.
Her voice shaky, she said, “That alone was worth the chase.”
Thankful she wasn’t upset—by either the liberties he’d taken or the fact that he’d ended the kiss—he chuckled and gently slipped his hands from her hair to release her. He took a step away, not knowing what to say.
Apologizing would be a good place to start. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
Her head still bent forward, she whispered, “I’m not.”
While she had expressed as much with the way she’d kissed him back, her stating it flat out took him by surprise. “You’re not?”
She raised her chin and met his gaze, her brown eyes black and fathomless in the faint light. “No, Jack. I’m not.” She slid her hands upward to his chest and flattened her palms over his pecs, making him flex automatically in more than one spot. “No matter what you need, I’m here for you.”
Jack couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d whipped a fence post out of her pocket and smacked him up side the head. Melinda had just offered herself to him physically as well as emotionally. He couldn’t believe he’d thought her simply a good sport. He shook the thought from his head. This meant more. So much more.
Accepting—hell, even acting on—a sexual attraction was one thing, but becoming involved emotionally was taking things too far. He wasn’t ready.
And he wasn’t staying in Jester.
She gave his chest a light pat then stepped to his side and linked her arm through his. “Come on, let’s head back. It’s really getting cold.” She tugged on his arm and started them walking out of the pavilion.
Bewildered by such a huge shift in their relationship, he let her lead him out of the pavilion and into the ankle-deep, fresh snow on their way back toward Main Street.
“Oh, Jack, your poor boots. I hope you waterproofed them.” She gestured down at his feet in a confusing change of subject.
His brain sluggish from his blood having rushed below his belt during their sizzling kiss, he dropped his gaze to his boots. They were covered with snow, but fortunately the ground was frozen solid, so he hadn’t sunk into what would have normally been deep mud around the edges of the pond. He absently remarked, “Considering what I paid for them, I should be able to water ski in them.”
She laughed, a full, rich, throaty sound he’d heard before, but never really thought about. Or reacted to. Just like her breasts, her hair, her lips…
There went that blood again, barreling through his veins, kicking his body to action.
She flashed a quick smile at him that shone bright despite the dim light. “Too bad the pond’s not bigger. I’d like to see that come summer.”
Jack reflexively thought I won’t be here come summer.
Regret knifed through his chest. Leaving would be that much harder now.
He wasn’t shallow enough to believe his attraction to Melinda would simply go away once he was no longer around her. But no matter how tempted he may be at the moment or how much he might continue to want her in the future, he couldn’t take up Melinda’s offer for that kind of succor. He just couldn’t.
She was a woman of worth, and he was a man of honor.
But he’d never been more tempted in his
life.
MELINDA SQUEEZED Jack’s arm tighter to still the quaking that had begun the second she’d allowed herself to say the words her heart had been screaming.
No matter what you need, I’m here for you.
She’d never taken so great a risk in her life. But Jack had handed her such a perfect opportunity to let him know how she felt, at least a little bit, and finish what she’d started outside of The Heartbreaker, that she couldn’t allow herself to chicken out. She would have been forever haunted by what-ifs of her own if she had.
And for her trouble he’d kissed her. Lord, how he’d kissed her. It had been the exact kiss she’d longed for after they’d danced.
The dancing had been incredible enough, being held tight in his arms, feeling cherished. But then to have him actually kiss her—Melinda could have died right then and there a very happy woman.
Only now what?
How could she carry on as they had before, sitting across their desks from each other with the taste of him imprinted on her brain, the feel of his hands in her hair etched forever in her heart?
The same way she dealt with everything difficult in her life, like knowing her father had wanted a boy instead of her and that the old timers in Jester didn’t think she could do the job—by gritting her teeth and doing what she needed to do. Hopefully Jack wouldn’t make a big deal out of her offer.
She didn’t hold out much hope that he would actually let her take care of all of his needs. His reluctance to begin his life anew ran too deep.
She risked a quick glance up at his face. His strong jaw still looked a little slack, though he didn’t have quite the deer-in-headlights expression that he’d had after she’d told him she wasn’t sorry they’d kissed. He hadn’t run screaming for the hills, though. She took that as a good sign. Just maybe he’d let her heal him yet.
As they walked back up Main Street, the sounds of alcohol-induced laughter and loud conversations from those who’d needed to cool off or sober up outside of the saloon reached them.
Uncertain about how Jack might behave if they went back in, and unwilling to find out in front of a crowd of people, she said, “We’re still going to call it a night, right?”
The last thing Melinda wanted to do was try to figure out if any attention he gave her during the course of the rest of the night was because of what had happened between them or simply to satisfy an audience. After experiencing a taste—literally—of Jack’s affection, she needed to be as clear as she could be about his motivation from here on out for her sanity’s sake.
He looked at her for a moment before answering. “Probably should.”
They were spotted by the small cluster of bar patrons and loudly hailed. She and Jack had to endure all sorts of bawdy speculation about what they’d been up to, most of it animal mating rituals related, as he opened his truck’s passenger door for her then rounded the vehicle and climbed in himself. Melinda took Jack’s lead and merely smiled and waved in response.
As Jack started up the engine, Melinda blew out a steamy breath. “Jeez, are they starved for entertainment, or what?”
“I think it’s more the novelty of the town’s vets being involved with each other.”
More hopeful that they might actually become involved for real than she’d ever thought she’d be, she pulled in a bracing lungful of cold air and tried her best to sound causal. “Whatever.”
She was about to risk thanking Jack for the evening when she noticed him looking at the snow shrouded statue on the Town Hall lawn directly in front of them as he made the left turn from Main Street to Mega-Bucks Boulevard.
The statue that he had said reminded him of his late wife every time he passed it.
Melinda’s heart twisted. He was right. Jester was a town full of memories. But could they possible make enough new ones for themselves to ease the pain of his loss? Only Jack could answer that. And Melinda was too afraid to ask the question. She wasn’t certain she could handle the answer.
The blasting heater had barely made a dent in the frost on the windshield before Jack was pulling into her driveway, the snow crunching beneath the wheels. She made a point to comply with his previous request and sat tight until he could get out and walk around the truck to open her door for her, but her compliance didn’t seem to register with him as he opened the passenger door. Had the reminder of his wife made him regret what had happened between them? The prospect made her bleed.
He walked with her to the house, but stayed on the bottom concrete step when she took the next step up onto the little front porch, like he wanted to keep his distance from her. Heaven help her if he regretted what had happened between them tonight. She pulled her house key out of her pocket and unlocked the door.
With a hand on the knob and a lump the size of a boulder in her throat, she turned and forced out, “Thank you, Jack, for tonight.”
Though his green eyes were on a level with hers as he met her gaze, his thoughts were still unreadable despite the stark light from the ugly bare bulb she needed to buy a cover for next to the door. She prayed her expression was just as enigmatic, that he couldn’t see how desperately she wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go.
Because no matter how badly she might want him, she didn’t want him to come to her out of pity.
He tilted his head to the side and raised a hand, skimming her cheek with the back of his fingers, and she knew she’d failed to hide her emotions. God, how he must feel sorry for her.
He surprised her by leaning forward and catching her lips with his in a quick, sweet kiss. Then he pulled back and said, “You’re welcome.” His baritone was deeper than usual, sounding as though the words were coming from deep within him.
But he still turned and walked away from her toward his truck, taking her shredded heart with him.
Chapter Nine
Jack sat alone in a booth at The Brimming Cup, staring into his third cup of coffee that morning and trying to come to terms with what had happened between him and Melinda the night before. He’d had plenty of time to think about their kiss this morning because his schedule of Saturday office appointments had dropped off considerably since word of his and Melinda’s engagement had made it around town. It was amazing how Mary Kay’s cat, Pumpkin and Paula’s little dog, Killer—make that Angel—had suddenly become healthy again. Making himself ineligible had worked better than he’d hoped in getting the gold diggers to leave him alone.
Time to think didn’t always lead to a solution, or understanding, though. He’d only managed to think himself into one circle after another the same way an unsettled horse will walk the fence of its corral, searching for the way out.
He knew he shouldn’t take his pretend relationship with Melinda into the realm of reality because it wasn’t fair to her; he still intended to leave. But he wanted her. His wanting her brought on a hefty dose of guilt, which made him think of Caroline, which reminded him of why he needed to leave. This town had been Caroline’s and as long as he stayed here, he’d never feel free to move on with his life.
Not even with Melinda.
He swirled the cup, making the coffee go round and round to match his thoughts.
“Jack.” Luke’s voice brought his head up. He hadn’t noticed the sheriff approach, let alone the fact that he was standing at Jack’s table still in his suede, sheepskin lined coat and tapping his Stetson against his jean-clad leg. Luke’s blue eyes were clouded with uncharacteristic emotion that looked remarkably like grief.
Apprehension stabbed Jack in the chest. “What is it?”
Luke ran a tanned hand through his short, jet-black hair. “It’s Henry. When he didn’t show up for their Saturday morning breakfast bull session or answer his phone, Finn called me and asked me to go out to Henry’s place. I did, and I found him. He’d passed away in his sleep sometime last night, Jack.”
A horribly familiar disbelief grabbed Jack by the throat. “He’s dead?”
“I’m afraid so. The coroner and Doc Perkin
s are already on their way out, but I figured I should come get you. Finn’s gonna need some help finding Henry’s papers, and well, just dealing with everything. We all know Henry would want you to be the one to help Finn out.”
Jack sat back as shock warred with old companions of his, the indignation of loss and terrible, terrible grief. “I knew he’d been tired lately—hell, for the last ten years—but I had no idea his health was that bad.”
“He hadn’t taken care of himself since Dolly died, Jack, you know that.”
Jack did know it. All too well. Like Jack, Henry had fallen victim to fate’s cruelty.
He slammed a hand down on the table. “Damn it. I should have done something about it.”
“Henry chose his own path, Jack. There was nothing any of us could have done.”
Unswayed by Luke’s reasoning, Jack shoved himself from the booth and stood. “My truck’s down the way. I’ll follow you out to Henry’s.”
Taking refuge in the practical, he focused on the fact that on the way he’d have to call Melinda to come in and cover his appointments, or reschedule them if she had some of her own. He paid for the breakfast that had come with his first cup of coffee while Luke quietly filled Shelly in on the reason for their ashen appearances and somber moods.
“Henry Faulkner passed away last night.”
Shelly’s eyes went wide and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no.” She dropped her hand. “How? What happened?”
With a half shrug, Luke said, “Nathan is on his way out to Cottonwood Farm right now. But it looked to me like he died in his sleep. He looked real peaceful.”
Her eyes welled with tears. “He’ll be so missed.”