“Is that what I’ve been doin’—comin’ to your rescue? And here I thought I was just helpin’ out, one neighbor to another.”
“Well, in that case,” she said with a smile, “I must not owe you as many gravy tubes as I thought.”
“Maybe just enough to think about selling me half the rights?”
“But not about your other offer to buy me out completely? Does that mean that part of it isn’t good anymore?” she joked.
“I could still do that, too, but I’d hate to. It wouldn’t be the same around here without you. I’d miss lookin’ over and seein’ you. Yes, sir, I’d miss it somethin’ terrible,” he said insinuatingly, his gaze going slowly from her face, down her body to her painted toes peeking out of her black strappy sandals and all the way up again.
“But you’d have all the water you wanted,” she reminded him.
“At too high a price. No, I’d rather come to some agreement for sharin’ it and keep you close by.”
They were just teasing each other. Yet not only did that last comment sound as if he meant it, but the meaningful look and the sense of intimacy that went with it warmed the blood in her veins and relit the sparks of what had been between them that morning.
“Then at least I won’t have to disappoint you on both counts. I’m keeping the water rights, but I’m staying around,” she heard herself say in a much more flirtatious tone of voice than she’d intended.
John grinned again, a lazy, sexy grin that said he was enjoying this banter even if he wasn’t making any headway in getting what he wanted. “Well, that’s somethin’ I can’t complain about.”
His voice was like dark whiskey and those sparks inside her turned into flames and raised her body temperature so much she’d have thought she was having a hot flash if she were older.
“We’d better go,” she said abruptly, more to cool herself down than because there was any need to hurry. Besides, if she stayed much longer basking in what was developing between them, she might end up not going at all.
John swept an arm toward the door and inclined his handsome head at the same time, letting her know he’d follow her lead.
But as Paige passed in front of him, he didn’t push the screen open. Instead, with her close in front of him, he bent to whisper into her ear, “Guess I’ll have to come up with another way to cash in those gravy tubes, huh?” That dark whiskey voice raised goose bumps all up and down her skin.
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine how I could possibly make good on a whole jetful of anything,” she said to play along.
“I’ll try to think of something that won’t be too much of a strain.”
THE DRIVE INTO TOWN was filled with Robbie’s chatter, questions and requests for demonstrations of everything John’s truck could do. Which was more things than the short drive allowed for, and then there they were, heading into the heart of town.
Pine Ridge proper had two streets at its center. Tutwiler Street—named after an old miner who’d willed the town the money to build the courthouse—ran north and south. Cross Street bisected Tutwiler and ran east and west.
Most every business or service occupied space on one or the other in the old brick and stone buildings that had been built no more recently than 1953. But they’d been kept up and improved upon along the way so that while nothing was too modern in appearance, the town had a clean, quaint look to it. Paige always felt that anyone seeing it for the first time would be able to tell it was a simple, friendly place full of good, kind people who worked hard, cared for each other and their property and took pride in their little town.
Paige—with Robbie’s help—directed John to Julie’s house, which stood on a little road running off Cross Street. Nothing in Pine Ridge was too big or flashy and that included Julie’s single-story redbrick home. But like most places, it sat in the middle of a large yard, so that was where the party was being held.
John found a spot to park a few doors down and they walked up. Julie and Burt were greeting guests at the side of the house where tables full of food had been set up in the shade and a number of guests already mingled.
“Hey, Burt! Would you look at that?” Julie exclaimed as they approached. “Paige is all dressed up like a girl!”
Paige could feel the color rise in her cheeks. “Thanks, Julie, that was subtle,” she said half under her breath.
Burt clasped her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Don’t pay any attention to Julie. You look beautiful.”
“Happy birthday,” Paige answered with a laugh.
Robbie spotted some boys his age in the backyard and—surprising his mother—pulled his frog, Pete, out of his pants pocket.
“What are you doing with that?” she asked as Julie made John feel welcome.
“Nobody believes John brung Pete back to life and I’m gonna show ‘em!” he said, running off before Paige could say anything else. The most she could do was roll her eyes and turn back to the small talk that was being exchanged by her two friends and her neighbor.
After a few minutes, more guests arrived and then Paige and John moved to the drinks table.
“I wasn’t too sure how your old pal the sheriff was going to like having me at his party,” John whispered as Paige poured them both glasses of iced tea. “After his visit to ask me questions the other day, I had the impression I might be on his list of suspects for the burglaries.”
Paige thought that maybe she’d finally convinced Burt he was wrong about that because the sheriff had been perfectly cordial, but all she said was “Poor Burt is stymied about who’s doing the robberies. I think at this point we could all be under suspicion.”
Pine Ridge’s dentist joined them at the drinks table then and Paige introduced him to John. It wasn’t long before a stream of people began making their way over to them, anxious to meet John, too.
For a man who had kept a whole town at arm’s length for so long, Paige thought John handled the onslaught very well. He seemed unruffled by the attention. In fact, he seemed right at home with it. He made conversation effortlessly, put everyone he talked to at ease and appeared to be genuinely interested in all the small-town tales he was regaled with.
Paige stood at his side through it all, amazed by what she was witnessing. Just when she thought she was finally beginning to figure the man out, he surprised her and left her wondering about him all over again.
The John Jarvis she was with was not a keep-to-himself cowboy. He wasn’t shy or standoffish or aloof or even tense about being the party’s main attraction. Instead, he was every bit as warm, pleasant and congenial as the town’s minister, without a single remnant of the remote John Jarvis who’d been avoiding any friendly overtures since he’d moved to town. The way things were going, Paige thought that by the time the party wound down he could have won an impromptu election for mayor.
No, there was no denying that the man had a way with people when he chose to use it.
On the other hand, Paige also realized that despite his friendliness John had not revealed anything she didn’t already know about him. He’d told folks that he was from Texas when he was asked. He’d talked about how many head of cattle he had and how many he’d like to add to the herd. He’d talked about farming and ranching. About his truck. About the tractor he’d ordered. Even about his hopes of persuading Paige to sell him part of her water rights. He’d talked about what surrounding properties he was interested in buying and why. And he did a whole lot of listening. But in the end—and probably without a single other soul realizing it—he hadn’t said anything about himself personally.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Paige said when they were back in the truck after the party. Robbie’s head was in her lap and his stocking feet stretched out to John’s thigh as he fell instantly asleep.
“What is?” John asked with a sideways glance at her.
“You.”
“Me? Why?”
“Here I thought you might be uncomfortable in a big group of people like tha
t. That you’d probably pick a spot away from everyone and stay put. That you wouldn’t want to talk to anybody if you didn’t have to.” That she’d have him all to herself…“But you fitted right in as if you haven’t been avoiding those same folks for the past two months.”
“Maybe I just decided it was time I got to know them some. Seems to me if I’m going to be living here with them, I might as well.”
“But why not two months ago when you bought your place? You must have decided then that you were going to be making your home here.”
He shrugged, and Paige’s gaze followed the rise and fall of his wide shoulder. “Guess I needed some time to myself first. And maybe I wanted to get the lay of the land, decide where I might want to fit in and where I might not want to.”
“Why would there be anywhere you wouldn’t want to fit in?”
“Maybe up until recently I was considerin’ turnin’ into that hairy old hermit you accused me of being,” he said with a half smile that left her unsure if he was teasing or not.
“But you decided against it?”
“Decided nights like tonight don’t do any harm. It’s just socializin’.”
“So is chatting with folks you run into in town, getting to know them, them getting to know you.”
“You sure that’s so harmless?” he asked in that same maybe-he-was-teasing-maybe-he-wasn’t way.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“The more people know, the more they have to judge. To dislike. To find fault with.” John glanced over at her and smiled just slightly and Paige thought there was a hint of sadness to it. “It’s takin’ a chance, you see. And when you’re makin’ a fresh start, I think a person ought to be real careful about it. Go slow.”
“So that’s what you’re doing? Going slow about letting people get to know you? Is that why you don’t say much of anything about yourself?”
“Guess it is.”
“Well, it’s frustrating,” she blurted out before she’d realized she was going to.
He laughed lightly. “Why is that?”
“Because it just is, that’s why. I’d…people would like to know more about you.”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye for what seemed like a long moment. Then he said, “I’ll tell you this—” he reached a hand down to Robbie’s ankle and gave it a gentle squeeze “—you and this boy here are gettin’ to mean more to me than I set out for you—or anybody else—to. And I’m doin’ no good at all tryin’ to resist it. That set me to thinkin’ that maybe I ought to stop wastin’ so much energy at it and give in some. That maybe I ought to give in some on gettin’ to know the rest of the town I’ve come to live nearby or I might be lookin’ at a pretty miserable, lonely future.”
“Give in and get to know me and the rest of the town,” she mused. “That isn’t the same as our getting to know you.”
“A little at a time, Paige. A little at a time.”
She thought about that and didn’t like it much. Not when she was wishing he would just come right out and tell her all about himself. Every tiny detail.
But on the other hand, as far as their relationship went, she knew that a little at a time was a good way to go. So she said, “I suppose taking things slowly is smart.”
His grin stretched out to include the other side of his mouth and mustache, and once again, just when she thought she had one thing about him straight, he reversed himself. “As slowly as we can take it when it has a life of its own.”
And what was happening between them definitely had that because just being there in that small space with him, bathed in the faintly lingering scent of his after-shave and the potency of his masculinity, those sparks were reigniting inside her.
“It does seem to have a life of its own, doesn’t it?” she said softly, more to herself than to him.
“One of the mysteries of the universe,” he answered anyway. “One of a lot of them.”
He turned the truck into her driveway then, pulled up to the house and stopped the engine.
For a moment, his eyes met hers and she knew that they both realized that, mystery or not, something was undoubtedly happening between them. Something neither of them could control or counteract or escape.
A little at a time, Paige reminded herself as if it would slow things down when, in fact, she knew by her suddenly increased heartbeat at just the thought of his walking her to her door and kissing her good-night that things between them were speeding up again.
Robbie woke up just then, pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. “Are we at the party?” he asked groggily.
“Sorry, honey, the party’s over,” Paige told him.
John got out and came around to their side while Paige gathered the shoes Robbie had kicked off the minute he’d settled into the truck at Julie’s, the birthday cake he’d taken home with him and the box they’d had to put Pete in. When John opened the door for her she got out, but before she could turn around for Robbie, John stepped in and lifted the boy down, so Paige just led the way to the house and unlocked the front door.
“Go on upstairs and get in your pajamas,” she told her son. “I’ll be right in.”
Robbie looked up at John and said, “Night. See ya tomorrow.”
John ruffled Robbie’s hair affectionately and sent him on his way.
Paige waved a hand toward the interior of her house. “Would you like to come in?”
“It’s late. I’d better let you go,” he answered, disappointing her. “I had a great time, though.”
“I’m glad. Me, too.”
“How about some help fixin’ that barn of yours tomorrow? Robbie told me that was what you had planned.”
Her disappointment was instantly washed away at the prospect of a set date to see him again. “Are you trying to collect more gravy tubes from me?”
“Maybe just a few.” He smiled down at her, but in the glow of the light from the entry, his eyes had a more serious glimmer to them as he studied her face, met and held her eyes with his.
For some reason Paige didn’t understand, she had the sense he was debating about something. Something that troubled him because it etched two vertical lines above the bridge of his nose.
Then, as if he’d made his decision, he reached both hands to her bare shoulders and bent to kiss her. Chastely, sweetly at first, much as he had the night before.
But it didn’t stay that way.
This time, his lips parted over hers, drawing her closer, deeper into the kiss. And Paige gave herself over to it, enjoying it more than any she’d ever known, so much that it curled her toes and wiped her mind so clear of thought that it didn’t even occur to her to raise her hands to him to allow herself that pleasure, too.
Much, much too soon, he ended it, letting her go and stepping away from her to say good-night and return to his truck.
But in his wake, she realized that there had been more than his kiss awakening blissfully sensual things inside her. There had been the feel of his hands. No wonder Robbie’s frog had revived and the cow had perked up under his ministrations.
There was something about his touch that generated a heat that had seeped into her pores and rolled like hot lava through her body from the simple meeting of his palms against her skin, setting every inch of her atingle.
She’d never experienced anything like it before. His mere touch had awakened her senses, made her blood flow faster in her veins at the same time as giving her an incredible feeling of peace and contentment. Her sinuses had even cleared, she thought with a silent laugh at herself.
Certainly having Burt take her by the shoulders earlier in the evening hadn’t had that effect. But there was no denying that when John touched her, it felt entirely different. It felt incredibly, unbelievably good.
So good that she’d wanted him never to let go.
He was right, she thought as she went inside and closed the door. Whatever was developing between them had a life all its own. An energy and a power tha
t couldn’t be denied, that turned a simple touch into something much, much more.
But she didn’t think it was really a mystery of the universe. At least no more so than when any two people are drawn together, overwhelmingly attracted to each other, whether they wanted to be or not.
And no matter what either of them thought they could do to stop it.
Chapter Six
Paige woke up at the crack of dawn the next morning, as excited about repairing the barn as a bride on her wedding day.
“This is crazy,” she whispered to herself, lying in bed, watching the sun come up through the open curtains of her window and making herself stay put at least until her alarm rang.
Of course, the actual work she had ahead of her wasn’t the cause for her eagerness. John and the prospect of spending the day with him was.
By the time the alarm finally went off, she was already standing beside the bed, her finger poised on the turnoff button of the clock radio. Not more than two notes of music sounded before she silenced it and headed like a shot for the bathroom.
After a quick shower, she applied just a touch of makeup—blush, mascara and eyeliner—and then paid special attention not just to braiding her hair, but French braiding it so it would be out of the way but still look slightly special.
She chose a pair of blue jeans that she usually bypassed because they were on the snug side, and a light summer blouse in a pale pink color with fully fifteentiny buttons down the front that she wouldn’t ordinarily work in but that looked as feminine as she felt.
And so what if, in the final analysis, she looked more like someone going on a picnic than someone about to tear out charred wood from the back of a barn and replace it.
She didn’t care.
Because the clothes, the hair, the makeup all felt right just as every minute she got to spend with John felt right, and she was tired of fighting the feeling.
“I thought we were gonna fix the barn today,” Robbie said when he found her downstairs preparing breakfast.
“We are. As soon as we’ve eaten.”
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