“Well, Daniel Boone is still king of the woodsmen.” She jogged to catch up and politely tapped his arm with her stick. “About these promises, you aren’t hiding from drug runners are you?”
Jake spared her a look of disgust. “Quit watching so much television.”
Which wasn’t really an answer. “Talk, hotshot. You asked for promises. Let’s hear ’em.”
He whirled around in front of her so suddenly she slammed against his chest. She looked into a pair of very annoyed eyes.
“I thought we agreed you’d quit calling me that.”
“No-o-o.” She shook her head. “Think back. We agreed you’d quit chopping down the tree. We never talked about hotshot.”
“Keep it up, sweetheart. I could stand here and argue all day, and no one will be there to get your sister.”
“No more hotshot?”
“No more.”
“It really suits you.”
He reached a jabbing finger toward her.
“Jake’s fine. I can live with Jake.”
“Good girl. Maybe you’re trainable. I’ve been thinking of a collie, but you might do just as well.”
He headed on toward her house.
“You know, Jake, ranching is a cold business. We bring baby calves into the world. We feed them, pet them, love them”—Emily’s voice dropped low—“and then we eat them.”
He shook his head and kept striding up the path.
She jogged even with him as they crested the hill.
He froze, staring at her old ranch house. “This is unbelievable. She’d said there were no houses for ten miles.”
“Technically she’s right. I do live ten miles from you.”
Jake gave her a look that might have peeled her skin if she hadn’t grown a thick hide since they’d met. “You may have escaped the cousin-husband thing, but they are thick like flies in your family tree, I’ll bet.”
“The road that leads to your driveway is a dead end. Everything west of you is in the Custer State Park. On the east is the Shaw ranch. He runs some cattle out here, but his fence line is at least a mile from you. He’d never come all the way into your place. Beyond that is the buffalo ranch he runs with his wife. So there are no houses forever that way. Plus he’s got his cattle close up to his place right now because they’re just done calving. You can walk to my place in two minutes, but on the road it’s at least ten miles. To make it worse, they’ve got the old house site on the plat map on the south side of my land. I live in the new house.”
“You have a new house?” He turned back to her obviously old house.
Emily laughed. “Sorry about that. No new house. My grandparents built this when my dad was three. They called it the new house, and I picked up the habit. Now about these promises?”
Jake rested his hands on his hips. “I don’t want you to tell anyone I’m here.”
“You are hiding from drug dealers.” Emily lifted her stick. It felt like a solid oak security blanket.
He dropped his head back with a groan of impatience. “I’m not hiding from anything. I just want to be alone.”
He tapped his index finger into her chest. “I don’t want you to tell anyone I’m here. Should I say it again? Is it the cousin thing? Are you deaf? You didn’t have any trouble hearing me chop your precious tree. Do I dare ask why?”
Jake folded his arms stubbornly. “Does it matter?”
“Beyond the fact that I’m dying of curiosity. . .no.”
“Is there a chance you might really die of curiosity?”
Emily shook her head and wrinkled her nose at him.
Jake looked disgusted. “I never have that kind of luck. You look healthy as a dog.”
She didn’t miss his quick glance up and down her body, appraising her health.
“Get your hayseed expressions right. It’s healthy as a horse.”
“No, it’s eat like a horse. Or is it a pig? Eat like a pig? That sounds familiar.” Jake relaxed his stance enough to rub one hand absently over his stomach.
After one look, she forced her eyes up. “They both eat a lot. So do dogs.”
“While we’re on the subject of food, I don’t suppose you have any.”
Emily’s heart turned over. With one thumb, she tipped the brim of her hat back. “You don’t have any food?”
“I’ve got food,” he growled. “I was just kidding.”
He wasn’t kidding, Emily could tell. “Come for supper. Does keeping you a secret include from Stephie?”
His fists clenched and his face darkened. “This is so familiar. I know exactly how women keep secrets. They all tell each other one at a time, swearing each other to secrecy. Pretty soon everyone knows and is laughing at the poor schmuck who trusted the first woman.”
Emily shook her head. “Wow, how did you find that out? It’s true, but I thought women were the only ones who knew it.” She added darkly. “Some woman didn’t keep the secret.”
“Asking you to keep quiet is a joke, isn’t it? Do you have any intention of respecting my wishes?”
“All right.” Emily raised one hand as if she were being sworn-in to testify in court. “No one hears it from me. Not even Stephie. It’s only a matter of time until she finds you herself. She spent most of the last two weekends at the neighbors’ ’cuz I was busy, but the Barrett place has never been off limits.”
“You let your little sister run wild in the woods? What kind of reckless behavior is that?”
Emily shrugged. “I did it when I was a kid. My dad did it before me. Until now, there’s never been anything more dangerous here than a bumblebee.”
“What do you mean, until now?”
“You’re here.”
“I’m not dangerous.”
Emily couldn’t explain it, but she knew without a doubt that was true.
“Just tell her to stay on her own property.” Jake crossed his arms.
“Great, and how am I supposed to explain that without telling her about you?”
“See if you can’t find the light switch for some of those unused rooms in your brain and figure it out. I bought ten miles of privacy.” He looked skyward and jabbed his finger at the passing clouds. “That was the deal.”
“You pray more strangely than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“What difference does it make? He doesn’t listen.”
“Sure He does. Is that what you’re out here for? To find God?”
“How about your sister?”
Emily gave up on evangelism. For now. “Stephie’s going to find you. She’ll be out of school for the summer soon, and I can’t keep her away from your house.”
Emily glanced at the sun again. “I’ve got to go, charming though this has been. I’ll bring some food over later.”
“Why would you feed me?”
She could see he couldn’t comprehend her offer. “I always feed the new neighbors, and anyone within twenty-five miles counts. If you’d introduce yourself around, women would feed you.” She could almost see the hair stand up on the back of his neck. “Nice, happily married women. People around here would be real good to you. Give them a chance. It might sweeten your disposition.”
“What’s wrong with my disposition?”
Emily couldn’t help laughing. She turned away first for a change—that felt good.
“Why would you feed me?” he yelled after her.
Maybe no one had ever given him something with no strings attached. That idea made her want to be kind to him so badly she had to sass him to cover it up. “My intentions are honorable, hotshot. I’m fattening you up. You’re way too skinny to interest any self-respecting carnivore.”
She jumped in her old Dodge Ram, slamming the door. She looked back. Their eyes met and she couldn’t look away.
With a little smirk, he touched one finger to his forehead and headed home.
❧
Sid Coltrain’s search turned to destruction.
Jake had disappeared. He was running around loose. An
d if Jake started adding things up, Sid was in trouble. The company they’d started, Hanson and Coltrain, made a fortune. Jake led a team of engineers; Sid managed the money. Sid did his best to keep Jake too busy to get a close look at the books. He slammed both fists onto the desktop, then shoved the heavy piece of furniture. This remote log cabin was stark. The few pieces of furniture in the three-room cabin were as rustic as the building and heavy with dust—and a few footprints no doubt left by Jake.
Sid had finally tracked Jake here to Colorado. But Jake was long gone. Sid noticed the crumpled slip of paper under the desk. Smoothing it, he read Cold Creek, South Dakota, in Jake’s bold, slashing handwriting. “Impossible,” Sid muttered. “Jake hasn’t stepped off a plane in the Midwest since the Tulsa tornado.”
His voice in the empty mountain cabin mocked him. Reminding him there were no other leads. He pulled his cell phone out and punched 411. He hated talking to a computer, so he’d learned how to bypass them—no small trick. “Cold Creek, South Dakota,” he snapped at the operator. “I don’t know the area code. Look it up.”
Sid seethed as he waited. “Operator, I’d like the number of. . .Jake Hanson.”
No listing.
“Try J. Joe Hanson.”
Nothing.
“Is there a Chamber of Commerce number in Cold Creek? Tourist information center?” Sid rapped his knuckles on the beveled corner of Jake’s oak desk.
“A city office. . .a mayor’s office? Well, what is there then?” Sid’s only answer was a sharp click as the operator broke the connection. He snapped the phone shut. Jake wasn’t in Chicago. Sid had people checking everywhere and this lodge in Aspen was the closest he’d come.
He looked again at the four words Jake had left behind. Everyone knew everyone in these small towns. Sid decided to put Tish on it. This whole mess was her fault. Jake would have never quit working if Tish hadn’t messed up.
Sid knew he’d pushed his luck sending Jake to Honduras. He hadn’t been home a week from the earthquake mess in Bolivia. But even an exhausted, burned-out engineer would have recognized the touchy financial situation at the office. Sid intended to put the money back soon, but for right now, he had some personal losses to cover. Sid couldn’t let Jake hang around.
Whatever Tish had done sent Jake over the edge. No one had seen him for two months. Sid clenched his fist on the slender clue in his hand. Tish needed her boyfriend as much as Hanson and Coltrain needed its lead engineer. Jake was everyone’s golden parachute.
Tish could take charge of this slender lead. He had to find Jake before Hanson and Coltrain collapsed around his ears.
Sid looked again at the note he’d found. South Dakota? Not in a million years! Jake employed a French chef and a chauffeur. Wherever Jake was, he lazed around in the lap of luxury.
❧
He was pretty much living on Spam.
Jake knew how to rough it. That’s pretty much all he did when he was on the job. But he was too burned out and depressed to even arrange the basics for himself. He’d driven into Cold Creek, seen what he was up against, and had driven back to Rapid City, bought a trailer, filled it with building materials and canned goods, and come back to the ranch.
He’d gotten so sick of cold, canned meat he had to be starving before he could swallow it. He was close.
Soaked with sweat, filthy, every muscle in his body aching, Jake climbed down the ladder. He hadn’t eaten since Spam at lunch. Under the grizzly stubble, his cheeks were sunken from the weight he’d lost.
He collapsed on the ground and leaned against the elm tree that had upset his neighbor so much. Truth was, it was a relief to let it live. Chopping down this huge tree was more work than he’d bargained for. He’d known after a couple of whacks he was going to forget the whole thing.
He thought about prickly, stick-toting Emily Johannson and grinned. Her hair—Jake closed his eyes and thought about that luscious, endless hair—her hair was like the forest, burnished oak, dark glowing walnut, and reddish chestnut glinting in the sun. And the blue of her eyes was as pure and honest as the wide South Dakota sky, while that soft cowgirl drawl eased into his bones.
None of that got to him like her sass, her courage, the warmth when she smiled, and the contagious way she laughed. She’d bring food. He instinctively knew she would.
Then he remembered Tish.
His instincts were garbage.
❧
Should she impress Jake with supper or slingshot him a pack of frozen hot dogs?
Emily weighed her options as she followed the winding gravel road on the six-mile drive from the lush valley Emily lived in to the clearing her neighbors owned. Beyond this rich, loamy, wooded area, the land spread out into the vast South Dakota Sandhills, with its sparse prairie grass, perfect for grazing cattle. The way was so familiar she could daydream full-time.
She pulled into the Murrays’ drive. Stephie, swinging in their backyard, spotted her and jumped off the swing on its forward arch. Yelling, Stephie dashed toward Emily’s pickup. Lila, the youngest of the Murrays’ three kids, flew off the swing and ran over, too.
Helen poked her head out the door. “Come in for coffee.”
“I can’t, Helen. I’m way behind today.”
Stout, dependable Helen—twenty years older than Emily but still a good friend—began striding toward the truck. Helen was firmly settled into the salt-and-pepper gray hair stage.
Emily remembered Jake’s desire to be a secret, to avoid women, and Emily bit back a grin as she pictured Helen chasing after Jake. With a rolling pin maybe.
“If you’re way behind, maybe you’ll let short stuff stay the night.” Helen ran a gentle hand over Stephie’s light brown hair. Helen seemed as content with a dozen kids as with three. Nothing fazed her.
It would solve so many problems to leave Stephie. “She’s been over here too much. I’m taking advantage of you.”
Helen laughed and waved away Emily’s protest. “You know they’re less work when they’re together.”
Stephie clutched her hands together and started jumping up and down, begging. Lila Murray, Stephie’s classmate, chimed in. Lila was a straggler in the Murray family, and she loved having someone her own age around.
Helen’s gentle laugh rang through the riot. “We’d keep her all weekend if you said okay.”
Emily held up her hands in surrender. “I give up. Do you need a toothbrush or pajamas?”
“We’ve got everything she could need. Are you sure you won’t come in? Without this wild one around you might have some spare time.”
“If I have to do her chores, I’m more behind than ever.”
Stephie froze in her celebration. Her eyes widened with regret. “I’ll come if you need me.”
Emily regretted her teasing. Stephie’s chores were simple. Emily could do them in about five minutes, though they kept Stephie busy longer.
Emily stepped out of the truck and gave Stephie a big hug and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be fine, sweetie. I’ll pick you up in the morning. And I’ll leave time for coffee, okay, Helen?” She climbed back into the truck without looking Helen in the eye.
“I saw you going home around two thirty. Did something happen to keep you from unloading?”
Emily glanced at her groceries, still perched on the pickup seat. Emily kept her head turned to avoid the simple question. “I just got. . .uh. . .sidetracked.” Emily waved without meeting Helen’s eyes, called out, “Behave yourself, Stephanie!” and backed out of the lane.
Jake was safe for tonight. What would she make him for supper? She’d never thought of herself as lonely, but her reaction to Jake made her wonder.
She hit the gas.
Three
She raced through her chores as if wolves were chasing her.
Not that she was eager to see Jake again or anything.
Then she made a meat loaf, scalloped potatoes, and a corn casserole. It was simple because everything went in the oven. She dug out of the deep fre
eze some sliced apples and a pie crust, knowing this was solely to impress him. She put the meat loaf in to bake, then added everything else except the pie. After a quick shower, she reached for her prettiest sundress. “Get a grip, Emily. This isn’t a date. You barely know the man. . .and what you do know isn’t good.”
Emily forgot the dress and pulled blue jeans and a short-sleeved sweater out of the drawer. She drew a brush through her damp hair, then went and checked the oven, its door squeaking as the fragrant steam of cooking food escaped. In the gush of heat, Emily rearranged the casserole dishes to make room for the pie and slid it into place.
Then she forced herself to walk, not run, up the path.
❧
Jake hadn’t had more than a momentary flash of guilt in three hours. Way under his usual quota.
He was too busy thinking about Emily. He had to get her away from him, but before he did, he wanted one more taste of all that feminine kindness.
Despite his rudeness, he knew she’d show up with food. He listened for the padding of her feet and, when he heard her, he went into action.
Jake yelled, shoved the ladder leaned against the side of the house away from Emily’s path, and then lay on the ground. She dashed around the house like he knew she would. He moaned and put a hand to his head and started to sit up.
She was kneeling by him in a second. “Oh, Jake, let me see if you’re all right. Lay still.”
Jake relaxed back on the dirt. He groaned, trying not to overact. Her hands smoothed over his arms and down his legs, checking for injuries. Contentment leached into his fully intact bones. How could such tenderness and grace be part of this prickly stranger?
She leaned over, her endless brown hair, unbraided, slipped over her shoulder and rained down onto his chest. His fingers itched to bury themselves in the silken length. She smelled so good—no perfume, just sunlight and fresh air and herself.
He opened his eyes and saw her fear. For him. Tears burned his eyes.
The last time he’d cried he was eight years old, the day he’d realized his mother had left for good. He’d cried one last time, then never again. No tears when he buried his father, none when he pulled tiny broken bodies out of mudslides, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.
Clueless Cowboy Page 2