As if she cared about his pride. If he passed out, she’d have to drag him and they’d already been through that. He shifted his grip and winced again.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
It was a stupid question. The man was ready to drop. She didn’t know why she’d asked it.
“Yes.”
With a sigh, Mimi pried Melinda Sue out of his arms and set her down. The child immediately scampered over to harass the boys. Hands on hips, Mimi turned back to Jackson. “You, Mr. Montgomery, are a lousy liar.” To the children she directed, “Finish getting that meat up to the house. I’ll be there in a minute.”
As soon as she turned back, he said, “The name’s Jackson, and I’m working on the lying.”
At least honesty fit with her image of him as an angel.
With a lift of his chin he indicated Melinda Sue. “Thank you for rescuing me. As cute as that girl is, I’m about done in.”
He said the latter like it was some sort of secret. “Of course you are. Crazy man. Fresh from your sickbed and you’re out hunting.” She shook her head. “I should never have allowed it.”
She suddenly had his full attention. His finger under her chin lifted her face to his in a purely masculine gesture she’d experienced before. Her ex-lover-partner-maybe- husband Mac had been fond of the practice.
“You don’t allow me to do anything,” Jackson stated in that deceptively easygoing drawl of his.
“Now,” she pointed out helpfully, “when you’re about to fall on your face, is probably not the best time to be going all manly.”
“And yet I’m insisting we get this straight between us. I’m the man. You’re the woman. Which means I give the orders.” His finger rubbed delicately under her chin, sending little goose bumps chasing down her arms. “And I like it that way.”
In the distance the boys chattered, the breeze blew, and birds sang, but she couldn’t look away. A shiver rippled down her spine, blending with the goose bumps. Grabbing his wrist, she held on while her world rocked. She’d never had that reaction with Mac. It took her a moment to find her voice. When she did, it came out airy and high. Not at all the way she wanted. “Well, so do I. What does that have to do with you being about to collapse?”
“Not a goddamn thing.”
Mimi didn’t know what to do with that. She released his wrist. She’d been crazy to grab it in the first place. The man was always throwing her off balance, but at the same time there was something about him that held her steady. It was disconcerting. It was comforting. He held her just a second longer. A second that stretched timelessly in her mind. He smelled of sweat and blood but also, beneath that, something more elemental. His hand brushed down her arm comfortingly.
“So why are we standing here?” she asked.
“Because it feels good.”
He was so full of horse hockey. A gorgeous, experienced man like Jackson didn’t loiter over barely there touches. “Or maybe it’s because you really don’t think you can make it to the house after all.”
“Oh, I can make it.”
Hands on hips, she demanded, “Prove it.”
With a wave, he motioned her onward. She could easily have outdistanced him, but instead she paced him, strolling along as if a snail’s pace were entirely normal, walking close enough to catch him if he stumbled. And for those goose bumps to spring up every time his hand accidentally brushed hers.
By the time they got to the house, the boys had the pack open and the meat displayed at the foot of the stairs. “We’ve got steaks,” Kevin crowed when they got close enough to see.
“Butterfly steaks,” Tony clarified for Mimi. “Mr. Montgomery says they’re the best ever, melt right in your mouth before your teeth even have time to chew!”
“Is that so?” Mimi asked.
“Got to be quick if you want your teeth to sink in,” Jackson confirmed.
She shook her head, but she was smiling. “I’ll be careful cooking them, then.”
Jackson’s stomach rumbled loudly. “I’d appreciate it.”
“So I hear.”
He shrugged the rifle off his shoulder. “Never made a secret of the fact I was hungry.”
Melinda Sue tugged at Mimi’s skirt. “I’m hungry, too.”
“So are we,” Tony chimed in.
So was she. “Well, then. I guess I’d better get the stove fired up.”
Picking up her skirts, she headed up the steps, rifle tucked in the crook of her arm like she knew how to use it. “Come on up into the house. You can take a nap while I cook.”
The sound Jackson made could have been a laugh or a curse. Or worse, a last gargle before he passed out. She’d heard people made strange sounds before they fell unconscious. She turned. He hadn’t budged. He stood there, legs slightly splayed, hat pushed back, looking for all the world like a disgruntled fallen angel.
“A nap, woman? What am I, four?”
From his expression and tone of voice, she concluded he needed to find more adults to talk to. Directing children about all day was taking a toll on his conversation skills. “What you are is a sick man who has done too much too soon and is going to set himself back.”
“I’m not taking a God-gosh-darn nap.”
She was relieved to see he used the handrail coming up the steps.
“Of course not.” She waited until he was in the house before adding, “But a rest might be a good idea before lunch.”
* * *
• • •
Jackson didn’t know how long he slept, but when he awoke, he was surrounded by the delicious scent of stew simmering. Taking a deep breath, savoring the aroma, he took inventory of his condition. His injuries were making themselves heard but nowhere near as loudly as his stomach. He was starving.
Pushing up on his elbows, he spotted Mimi standing by the stove. She was still wearing the light blue dress from that morning, the one that made her eyes such a vivid blue. She still looked neat and tidy. He liked that about her. That somehow, no matter how hectic things became, she always appeared composed. The boys were nowhere in sight. Melinda Sue was at the table, doing something with a piece of charcoal and some birch bark. He tossed the blanket back.
“Well, good afternoon,” Mimi said over her shoulder.
“Good afternoon yourself.” Frowning, he noticed the fading light.
“What time is it?”
“It’s almost dusk.”
Damn, he’d slept the whole day away. Shifting his weight off his bad shoulder, he breathed deeply. “Smells like you made it into town this afternoon.”
She suddenly became engrossed in stirring the stew. “No.”
“Why not?”
“There wasn’t a need. I had some spices in the cupboard, and the boys found some potatoes and vegetables in the old garden.”
That didn’t explain why she was avoiding his gaze.
“Is there something you need to tell me?”
Her start would have been imperceptible if he hadn’t been watching her. A man had to admire that much control.
“Not at all. I just didn’t feel comfortable leaving with you so soon out of your sickbed.” She shrugged with her back to him. “Just in case.”
Another excuse.
“I’m fine.”
She looked over her shoulder. “You’ve been saying that since the moment before you collapsed. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take you seriously.”
“I know how I feel.”
“And I know I don’t trust your assessment.”
Checkmate. “Where are the boys?”
“Outside. I was afraid they’d wake you up. Melinda Sue gave it a try, but you were dead to the world.”
At the sound of her name, Melinda Sue looked up from her drawing. He waved. “Hey, sprout.”
She waved and w
ent back to what she was doing, humming a nursery song.
“She’s making you a present,” Mimi explained.
He was touched. He could hear the boys arguing outside. Something that would normally have brought him awake, yet he’d slept through lunch preparation, Melinda Sue, and the boys. She was right. It probably hadn’t been a good idea for her to go into town.
“I’m usually a light sleeper.”
“So I figured.” She nodded to the left. “I put your guns in the cupboard for now.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s going to be tricky around here with those guns. Melinda Sue is fascinated. So are the boys.”
“They won’t touch them.”
Mimi banged the wooden spoon on the side of the pot. “I’m sure you’ll tell them not to, but I don’t know how safe that strategy is going to be.”
She resented his guns? “This isn’t some pretty Eastern town, Mimi. It’s the West. Out here knowing how to defend yourself will save your life.”
“It’s important back East, too.”
There was that tension again. And, once again, he wondered just what had sent the city slicker heading west with three children in tow. “Speaking of back East, just what was it that brought you out here?”
Mimi put the spoon down beside the pot, turned, and wiped her hands on her apron. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the stove. The strands of honey brown hair that had escaped her braid hung around her face. Her lips compressed into a tight line.
“Now is not the time to be discussing that.”
Over at the table, Melinda Sue stopped humming. The charcoal clattered to the floor. As it bounced, Melinda Sue whispered, “Because of the monsters.”
Jackson perked up. “What monsters?”
Bracing herself against the counter, Mimi glared at him. “Hush, Melinda Sue.”
And Melinda Sue, the intrepid child who feared nothing, paled and shut up. Interesting.
“Mind telling me when would be a good time?” Jackson asked, keeping his drawl level.
“Maybe never.” Pushing her hair off her face, she snapped, “I don’t go asking you about your business.”
“I’m sure you’ll get around to it.”
Her hand dropped to her side and clenched into a fist. “And if I do, I’m sure you may or may not answer me.”
“True enough.”
“You’re admitting it?”
He stood and brushed the dirt off his pants. “I don’t lie.”
But she did, though never smoothly or with any confidence. It was obviously a newly acquired skill. He felt grimy and dirty. The boys weren’t the only ones who needed a bath. “Do you have any soap?”
She blinked at the change of topic. “I do.”
“I need a bath.”
She didn’t disagree. “You also need a change of clothes. The ones from your bag are out hanging on the line.”
Tension still shook her voice. They weren’t done with the subject of monsters by a long shot, but for now, he’d let it go. “Thank you.”
He made short work of folding up the blanket. At least it was easier to move now. Gathering all the bedding, he put it on a chair in the corner. As he did, he noticed another gap in the floor. Only a desperate person would consider this place a godsend. “How much time do we have before supper?”
She relaxed with the change of subject. “Probably another hour. There are some steaks on the table to tide you over.”
“I’ll grab some on the way out, but . . .”
She raised her brows.
“I still need the soap.”
“I know.”
“I’m sensing some reluctance.”
With a sigh, she went into her bedroom. A minute later she came out with something wrapped in wax cloth. The soap, he presumed. She opened it carefully. Inside was a small beige oval. One sniff and he was back to thinking of hot, lazy summer days and endless possibilities. Honeysuckle.
“Is the reason you don’t want to give it to me because it’s your last or because you object to a man smelling like a flower?”
That got him a glimpse of her smile. “Would you believe me if I said the latter?”
“Nah. I know how partial women are to their luxuries.”
“In this case, soap isn’t a luxury.” She handed it to him. “You do stink.”
He didn’t take it. “I’ll make do with the laundry soap until we can get to town.”
She pushed the soap into his hands. “You won’t have any skin left. Just take it.”
He did, inspired by the way she wrinkled her nose and stepped quickly back. He was probably reeking as bad as the boys.
“I’ll replace it when we go into town tomorrow.”
Her “thank you” was distinctly unenthusiastic. What the hell? Women loved shopping and town.
Jackson added that idiosyncrasy to his growing list of contradictions that were Mimi. Before he got to the door, she asked, “Could you see if you can get Kevin and Tony to at least splash some water on themselves?”
Grabbing his Stetson off the nail by the door, he settled it on his head. Giving the brim a tug, he asked, “Didn’t I promise to?”
* * *
• • •
He found the boys arguing around the side of the house, sort of chopping wood. Sort of, because they were more in danger of chopping off their foot than they were of splitting a log. He could tell from the way they were swinging the axe that they had no experience with it. Didn’t Easterners need a fire? Tony swung hard. Jackson held his breath. It hit the log with a thud. And stuck. The language that greeted that disaster would have gotten their mouths washed out with soap if his mother had heard it.
They looked up as he approached. Kevin immediately feigned confidence whereas Tony stepped back and waited. Both actions were signs of nervousness. The whole damned family was jumpy. “I see you got the wood in.”
They nodded. “Mimi says it takes a lot of wood for cooking and heating. We thought we’d get started on it,” Kevin offered, stepping in front of the stuck axe.
“Good plan.”
Tony held his hands out. The palms were peppered with red marks and the beginning of blisters. “My hands aren’t tough enough yet.”
“They’ll toughen up, but if you’re interested, I could share a trick that would make it easier.”
Ever eager, Kevin piped up. “I’m interested.”
The more cautious Tony asked, “There’s a trick?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s always a trick.”
Kevin stepped away from the chopping block. “Even for this?”
“Even for that.”
Turning the log on its side and pinning it with his foot, Jackson loosened the axe head with some solid thunks on the handle.
“Usually,” he said as he straightened the log and wrenched the axe free, “it’s just a matter of applying the proper leverage.”
“And muscle,” Tony muttered as Jackson took a moment to manage the pain. That bit of showing off had cost him.
“And muscle,” he agreed. “But you’re not always going to be the biggest so sometimes you have to be the smartest.”
While the boys chewed on that, he set up the wood. “If you’ve got enough muscle backing you, your axe is sharp, and it’s not too stubborn a piece of wood, you can just try to drive the axe right on through.”
More nods.
“But it doesn’t matter how much heft you have, if your axe blade isn’t sharp.” He ran his finger over the edge. “And this is as dull as a butter knife. All you’re going to do is lodge the blade.”
“We’ve been swinging it forever.”
They smelled like they’d been working hard.
“Do you know if there’s a grinding wheel in the barn?” It was a faint hope that died as the boys sh
ook their heads.
“Nope.”
He sighed and set the axe aside. “We’ll bring it with us when we go into town tomorrow and get it sharpened.” He had a small whetstone that he used for his knife, but the axe edge was so dull and damaged, it would take a grinding wheel to fix it.
Tony and Kevin looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head.
“What?”
“We never go into town.”
“Any particular reason for that?”
“Mimi doesn’t like it there.”
“Why?”
It wasn’t an unreasonable question. Certainly not one that should have them clamming up and dodging his gaze.
He repeated the question. Kevin kept his gaze averted. Tony met his dead-on. When it came to Mimi, the boy had no caution.
“She has her reasons.”
He bet she did. “Well, unless someone gives me a darned good reason that makes starving a better option than going to town, tomorrow, we’re going to town.”
He waited. Neither boy offered a reason.
“That’s what I thought.”
“You don’t know everything,” Tony muttered.
“I know we need a sharp axe, oats for Lady, and”—he made an exaggerated sniffing sound—“soap for you two.”
The boys grimaced. He wasn’t totally unsympathetic. He’d hated baths at their age. “And maybe, if we have enough money left over, we’ll hit the mercantile and get a bit more of that penny candy.”
That got some enthusiasm showing.
“But there’s one hitch in our git-along. You boys can’t go into town smelling like skunks.”
Their faces fell.
“I’m heading down to the river. Y’all need to come with me. You’ve got to get washed up.”
“We don’t have any soap.”
“Mimi spared me a bit.”
As one they took a step back. “That smells like flowers.”
Kevin belligerently folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not smelling like a flower.”
“Me neither,” Tony echoed.
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