Jake, Devils on Horseback, Book 2

by Beth Williamson

Allison glanced behind Zeke at the other two men. The curly-haired one watched with avid interest while the one-armed man scowled so hard his blond brows formed a big V.

  “Are you sure we’re not imposing?” she asked.

  “Not in the least.” It was Jake who answered. “We would be tickled pink to have both you lovely ladies join us. It’s been quite some time since we dined with proper company.”

  “Yeah, because you sure as hell aren’t proper,” the one-armed one sniped. Gabby remembered his name was Lee.

  “Watch your language, Lee,” their leader scolded. What was his name again? Oh yes, Gideon. “These are gently reared ladies who deserve more respect than that.” He tipped his hat at them. “Excuse my friend, ma’am. He’s been in the company of men for too long. I’m Gideon Blackwood and this is my unruly cousin, Lee.”

  Allison inclined her head regally. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.” She looked at Zeke again and Gabby swore she saw stars in her friend’s blue eyes. Was that good or bad?

  “We’d be happy to join you.” Allison held out her arm and Zeke took it as if they were at a fancy dance.

  Jake’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced at Gabby. She shrugged. He grinned and bowed low and long like he was at the queen’s court.

  “My lady Rinaldi, please do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the fine dining establishment forthwith.” He fell to one knee, holding his hand up to her.

  Gabby held a smile back through sheer force. As it was, her lips began hurting from keeping them in place. Jake fell to both knees and clasped his hands together like a supplicant.

  “Please, Miss Rinaldi. I will surely perish if you don’t say yes.” His blue eyes danced with mirth.

  “Get up before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.” Lee turned and stomped up the steps. “Idiot thinks he’s funny.”

  Gideon rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know it was time for a show.” He chuckled and followed his cousin.

  Zeke and Allison didn’t even appear to see Jake, they walked to the restaurant talking quietly.

  Then Gabby was alone with Jake. Silly, charming Jake who would be dangerous in more ways than one to her. The memory of Jake smiling at Lucy raced through her mind. He might have already visited the saloon and Lucy’s bed, and now he was using his considerable wiles on Gabby. The very thought made her not just annoyed but upset, whether or not it was her business.

  “You can get up now.” She helped him to his feet, hiding her reaction at the feel of his large, calloused hand around hers. Since her experiences were limited to the soft-handed Christopher and the clammy-handed Alvin, the urge to find out how Jake’s rough hands felt on other parts of skin ran through her.

  Just the thought of it made perspiration pop out all over her body and warmth blossomed low in her belly. Heat seemed to be something created easily between her and Jake.

  “Miss Rinaldi?” Jake cupped her elbow. “Are you all right?”

  Gabby opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. God knows she shouldn’t say a word to him right now or risk sounding like the fool she was.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go inside.” She stepped away from his touch, and a shudder wormed its way through her at the loss of contact.

  * * * * *

  Jake found himself fascinated by Gabrielle Rinaldi. Gabby. The way the sun danced across her light olive skin as she sat next to the window, the way she gave Elmer an effusive hug when they came in. She ate with gusto, not like a Southern “lady” who picked at her food. Gabby was all woman, full of life. Jake was drawn to her like a flower to the sun, thirsting for the brightness she gave off.

  He kept his eye on Zeke and Allison. She was a shy little thing who barely lifted her eyes and that was only to look at Zeke. He appeared to be equally as taken with the petite woman as she was with him. Jake hoped she was amenable for Zeke to court her, because Jake would bet the two nickels in his pocket it was going to happen. Too bad she was the minister’s daughter, which might put a pinch on a budding romance.

  Gabby kept glancing at the blonde couple as well, almost as much as Jake looked at the luscious black-haired beauty. She laughed with her whole body, a hearty laugh that echoed in the empty restaurant. Jake’s heart squeezed each time she smiled. He wanted to kick his own ass for acting like such an idiot, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. She’d become an addiction so quickly it made his head spin.

  “Jake, are you listening to me?” Gideon elbowed him in the ribs.

  Jake almost jumped out of the chair. “No, I wasn’t.”

  Everyone laughed and he couldn’t help but grin at Gabby. She raised one dark eyebrow and didn’t say a word to him. He couldn’t be certain if she was flirting with him or not, a fact that annoyed and excited him. Women were generally not immune to his charm, as evidenced by the experiences he’d had with the fairer sex. Jake discovered early that making a woman feel beautiful and desired provided a more than pleasant method to getting what he wanted. The truth was, Jake loved women of all shapes and sizes. Each one had her own unique charm and scent. It was one of the first things he noticed as a young, strapping fifteen-year-old in the backroom of the saloon he worked at—the scent of a woman was intoxicating.

  Gabby’s scent would be the last thing he remembered and the first thing he thought of each day. She didn’t wear perfume, rather it was a mix of woman, flour, fresh air and her. Fascinating to say the least. Jake sat next to her at the table as they ate the simple ham sandwiches and drank lemonade. Each time she took a drink, Jake watched, and hungered.

  He wanted to taste her lips, feel her tongue on his as they shared the tart flavor left in her mouth. Jake shifted on the chair, realizing his usually calm dick had woken with a vengeance and strained at the buttons of his trousers. He needed to stop fantasizing about Gabby and work on charming her, because judging by the frown on her face when she glanced at him, he had a ways to go.

  “How long have you lived in Tanger, Miss Delmont?” Zeke sat straight and tall across from Allison.

  “All my life.” The blonde looked up from her plate at Zeke. “When Gabby moved to town we were inseparable from the first minute we met. My mama used to say we were like salt and pepper.” Her face paled, apparently at the memory of her mother.

  Zeke reached over and put his hand over hers, completely covering her tiny one. “I lost my parents too. It’s never easy to talk about them. I understand completely.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

  Jake nearly swallowed his tongue. Zeke was acting so unlike his normal self, it was almost scary.

  “What the hell’s gotten into you, Zeke?” Lee could always be counted on to be brutally honest. “You sick or something?”

  Zeke scowled at his brother. “Watch your language around the ladies.”

  “Sure thing, Ezekiel,” Lee taunted. Calling the Blackwood brothers by their hated Biblical names never failed to rile them.

  Zeke stood, knocking his chair back. “Don’t ruin this day too, Cornelius. It was going along right fine until you opened your mouth.” His cool glare pinned Lee. “Apologize to the ladies.”

  The air hummed with tension as the brothers stared each other down. Lee was the one to turn away, to glare at Gabby then at Allison.

  “You’d best make your choices wisely, brother.” Lee snatched the sandwich off his plate and stormed out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind him.

  After his footsteps faded away, Jake glanced at Zeke, who was still standing like a statue in a park. It was Allison, however, who saved the moment from utter disaster.

  “Please sit down, Mr. Blackwood. It’s all right. I’m sure your brother didn’t mean any harm.” Her gracious tone worked on Zeke like nothing else ever had. His face softened and he sat back down without punching a thing.

  Jake choked on his lemonade.

  Gabby slapped him on the
back until Jake held up one finger. “Thank you, Miss Rinaldi. I will be forever in your debt.”

  Allison laughed while Gabby fought back a grin. “You are a charming fool, Mr. Sheridan.”

  “Jake. Please call me Jake.” He smiled, his heart doing a somersault when she smiled back.

  “All right then, please call me Gabby.”

  At that moment, over the sandwich crumbs and the lemon seeds, Jake slid from being fascinated into being just a bit in love.

  It was hotter than hell by eight in the morning on a cloudless day that threatened to become even more scorching. Captain Elliot Nessman wiped the sweat off his brow with one perfectly pressed handkerchief. He eyed the evidence of a campfire at the creek and knew in an instant it was the Confederate demons he’d been chasing for months. The fire pit, long since cold, had rabbit bones, a cigar and what appeared to be bandages.

  He clenched his fist in the leather glove in victory. He was close, right on their tail. At first the information from the drunken sot about a red-haired man with three others had been more than suspicious. However, it had proved to be the kernel of freedom he’d been searching for.

  Elliot smiled as he smashed the bones beneath his boot. Those damn Johnny Rebs would be his so very soon.

  Chapter Four

  The mill stood at the other end of town backing to the river, a hulking building nearly twenty feet tall. The weathered boards had been constructed well to create a solid building. Jake was impressed with the outside alone. He expected the inside to be just as impressive. From what he could find out, Gabby’s father had designed the current mill water flow and had made numerous improvements with his own hands. Some kind of accident earlier that year had left him unable to walk. Jake figured Gabby had learned her fierceness, passion and drive from her father.

  The sound of hammers and saws rang through the morning air—Zeke and Lee were over at the church while Gideon assisted at one of the ladies’ houses in town. No doubt Allison was fluttering around Zeke as they worked. As Jake walked toward the mill, he felt someone watching him again. The same person who had been watching him since he’d arrived in Tanger three days earlier. A chill raced up his spine. Whoever watched him didn’t do so out of curiosity. There was malevolence in that stare. Jake whirled around and saw nothing but Marchison’s store. No one was there or anywhere within at least three blocks. He stared hard at all the windows overlooking the street like silent sentinels.

  After a few minutes, he started walking again, resolved to investigate the mysterious watcher another time. Darkness would be a better cover to snoop around anyway. Besides, he’d promised Gabby he’d be there and he sure as hell didn’t want to let her down.

  “We’ll meet soon, stranger, I promise,” he muttered.

  When he arrived at the mill, Jake knocked, curious to find out what was making the racket on the other side of the door. No one answered his knock, so he tried the knob, which opened under his hand. He poked his head inside.

  “Hello? Anybody here?”

  An older man with salt and pepper hair and a stooped back walked past the door and barely gave Jake a glance. He was covered in an off-white dust Jake assumed was flour.

  “Gabby!” The man shuffled toward the other side of the room. “You got a visitor.”

  Jake stepped in and the great hulking machinery in front of him spun, turned, and made a thwapping sound as grain was ground into flour. The wheel mill outside turned with the water as it powered the mill. He looked up and saw pulleys and wheels in an intricate symphony of machinery moving in time with each other.

  “Jake.” Gabby appeared beside him wearing a huge leather apron, smudges of flour and grease on her cheeks, and a frown marring her beautiful face.

  Just the sight of her made Jake lose his ability to speak for a moment as he lost himself in her dark eyes. She cleared her throat and he jumped at the sound.

  “Good morning, Gabby.” He pointed up at the mill’s equipment. “Impressive. I’ve never seen one up close before.”

  She swiped a hand across her forehead. “It’s a design my father helped with down in Guenther’s Mill in San Antonio. It separates the middlings layer—” She stopped and shook her head. “That’s not important. We haven’t had a decent speed in the mill for months, not since the waterwheel was damaged. Harvey would drown if he even tried to get out there.”

  Jake smiled. “Can you explain to me how the mill works? It would help if I knew what needed to work so I could fix it.”

  “Are you really interested in the mill?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Absolutely. I’m from a long line of drunks and cotton pickers.” Jake shrugged. “I’ve never even been inside a mill, but I do want to learn about it.” He knew it was the right thing to say when Gabby’s eyes lit. The strange thing was, he meant what he said.

  “Okay, but if you become bored, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” She started by giving him a tour of the mill, explaining how the pulleys pulled the grain through to the iron rollers, and all the various steps that brought the wheat kernels to the flour he was used to seeing.

  Gabby spoke of the mill as a mother does a child, with passion and love. She could talk about it for hours on end, Jake was sure. He lost track of how much information she gave him, and he didn’t follow all of it completely, but he understood the basics of the mill and what the problem was.

  The waterwheel had half its boards damaged, the other half were rotting off. From what he could see through the opening, it would be a hell of a lot of work to fix it. No wonder the old man couldn’t do anything about it.

  Jake climbed onto the ledge, ignoring Gabby’s protest. “Can you stop the water flow?” he called.

  “Yes, but that’s something you’re going to have to help me do.” She hoisted herself up next to him and pointed down. “We have to stop the wheel down there.” The warmth from her body meshed with his and he had to tighten his hold of the sill to avoid grabbing her. A rush of sensation flew through him as quickly as the water that rolled past the mill. Her scent today was a combination of flour, grease and woman, which tickled his senses.

  Her physical agility should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He took it as part of who she was, even if she wasn’t one of the sweet Southern ladies he was used to. Gabby was different, very different. Jake smiled into the cool spray from the water and glanced at her. Tiny bits of moisture clung to her smooth cheeks and full berry-colored lips. Jake’s mouth went dry as a pulse of pure arousal slammed him.

  He wanted to kiss her, more than once. God, he wanted to taste her, to find out if she was as sweet and delicious as she looked. Jake shook with the need, the hunger that bit into him. Gabby turned to him wearing her perpetual frown.

  “What is it?”

  Jake shook his head. “Nothing. Not used to heights I guess.” He smiled. “Can you show me the bottom of the wheel?”

  “Sure.” Her even white teeth gnawed on the plump bottom lip. “If you don’t think you can do it, tell me now. I don’t want to get my hopes up, or worse yet, my father’s hopes up, over nothing.”

  “Oh, I can do whatever you need me to.” Jake’s voice rang with conviction. “No matter what you think of me or my friends, we will help Tanger. I will help you.”

  Gabby nodded and jumped down. From the expression on her face, she wasn’t convinced Jake would or could do the work, but he wasn’t about to let her down. Suddenly being around Gabby and making her happy became the most important thing in the world to him.

  * * * * *

  The water sounded like thunder when they stood behind the wheel. The combination of the splashing and slap of the paddles added to the cacophony. It was one of Gabby’s favorite places. She loved to sit on the stone wall that ran behind the mill and watch the wheel turn, feeling the spray of the water on her face. Truth was, she did her best thinking sitting there. Ever since she was little
, it was her spot, especially when she was troubled.

  Today that trouble stood beside her in the form of a redheaded man with a devastating grin and beautiful blue eyes. Jake Sheridan was unlike any man she’d ever met. He was charming, smart and funny, enough of a distraction to make her nervous. Gabby’s world was too small for a man as big as he was. In every way, he was just too big. She was used to handling problems and being the voice of reason—he threatened that control.

  “I think I finally understand how it all works.” He tipped his black hat back. “At least enough to know what you need me to do.” With a grin, he knelt down at the water’s edge and stuck his hand in the current.

  Gabby had the insane urge to push him into the water, whether to cool him off or to make herself feel better, she wasn’t sure. Her fingers actually itched to touch him, to feel the texture of his shirt, the heat of the skin beneath it. She wondered if his freckles covered his body or if they were just on his face. That led her to imagine exactly what the freckles would taste like. She swiped her tongue across her damp lips instead.

  Gabby shook her head to dispel the strange urges and thoughts floating around there. The very idea of fantasizing about a man she’d known for such a short time was preposterous enough—she didn’t need to turn into a silly-headed idiot over him.

  Control, Gabby.

  “Have you lived here all your life?” He sat on the stone wall, patting the space next to him.

  Although her feet dragged, Gabby walked over and perched next to him, unable or unwilling to stop herself. “No, we moved around a lot. We only moved to Tanger about five years ago. The mill used to belong to another man named Abel Freeman. After he died his wife sold the mill to my father and left town.” She paused, remembering the joy her father felt in finally owning a mill.

  “Why a flour mill?” He picked up a pine needle and swept it back and forth across her hand.

  Gabby shivered from the contact and pulled away from his touch. “My father had worked for a man down in San Antonio who taught him everything about the design and running of a mill.” She had absorbed every drop of knowledge from her papa, like a thirsty sponge. “When the mill came for sale, my father used every cent he had to buy it. After we moved to Tanger, my father’s dream came true.”