Hawk's Way Grooms

by Joan Johnston

  She stared at Colt, unable to look away. He understood about lost dreams. He almost hadn’t made good on his dream of becoming a jet pilot. She was the one who’d urged him to confront his parents and tell them he didn’t want to be a rancher, that he wanted to fly jets. She’d also been the one who shared his joy when he realized his parents were happy for him, not disappointed as he’d expected them to be.

  Colt knew better than anyone what it had meant to her to sacrifice her own dreams for the sake of her brothers. She looked down at Colt’s hands—large and strong and capable—then up into his blue eyes, as red-rimmed as her own, and focused on her with such earnest entreaty that she found it hard to look away.

  “Suppose we did marry, Colt. Then what? I can’t follow you around the world the way Huck did. My home is here on the Double D. Are you willing to give up flying?”

  She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I can’t.”

  “Then I can’t marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I won’t trade one absentee partner for another,” she said flatly. “I deserve better.”

  “Then take the damned money!”

  “I don’t need your charity.”

  “You sure as hell do!”

  She yanked her hands free and said, “Get out, Colt. Leave. Go.”

  Colt stood his ground. “I owe Huck for not protecting him better. I stole your dream of happily ever after. Let me do this for you. For Huck. Marry me, Jenny.”

  Her chin quivered. She wanted so much to accept. It was the easy way out. But it was all wrong. “It wouldn’t work, Colt.”

  “Why not?”

  “For one thing, I don’t love you.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’d want to marry someone who—”

  “Say yes, Jenny.”

  “What would people think—”

  “To hell with what people think! At least you’d keep the Double D.”

  She stared at him, wanting to accept, but knowing such a marriage would be disastrous for both of them. “What happens when you fall in love with some other woman?”

  “That isn’t going to happen.”

  “How do you know?” she insisted.

  He looked away, then turned back. “I gave my heart to someone a long time ago. There won’t be anyone else.”

  “Oh.” She was surprised by the jolt of jealousy she felt at his admission. Colt had often dated, but all the relationships had been brief. She’d never imagined him in love with some other woman. It had always been—only been—the three of them.

  He reached for her hands again and held them tight. “If we don’t get married, you’re going to lose the only home you’ve ever known.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Colt.”

  “It’s the situation that’s threatening.”

  “What about sex?” She lifted her eyes to his and saw the glint of humor there, despite everything. They’d always spoken freely to each other. She wasn’t going to pull her punches now. “Or were you planning on a celibate marriage?”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to come to bed with me right away,” he said, answering with as much care as the subject deserved. “But I’d expect our marriage to include physical relations eventually.”

  “I see.” There had been a time—one time—about six years ago when his hand had accidentally brushed against her breast, and she’d felt her insides draw up tight. They’d both been horribly embarrassed, and it had never happened again. But she’d been aware of him ever since in a way she hadn’t been before that day.

  Still, it was unsettling to think of Colt having the right to touch her as a man touched a woman. It had always been forbidden, because she was Huck’s girl.

  Huck is dead. Huck is never coming back.

  “Say yes, Jenny.”

  She looked into Colt’s eyes, searching for the right answer. He looked so sure of himself. So certain he was doing the right thing. She shuddered to think what people would say if she showed up at church on the day she’d planned to marry Huck with a substitute groom.

  Then she imagined what it would be like if she lost the ranch and had to go to work in town. Or had to live as a maiden aunt in the home of one of her brothers. And there were other considerations, things Colt didn’t know about and which she could never tell him, that made her want to cling to the only home she had ever known.

  She needed time, but there wasn’t much. Her wedding date, June 20, was forty-two days away. Ten days after that, another mortgage payment would come due. And she had no money to pay.

  It was selfish to marry Colt under the circumstances. She was crazy even to consider the possibility. But it was the only solution she could see—at the moment—for her desperate situation.

  “All right,” she said at last. “I’ll consider your proposal.”

  “When will I know your answer?”

  Jenny managed a crooked smile. “As soon as I do.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “HEY, JENNY, WAKE UP!”

  Jenny rolled over in bed and stared, bleary-eyed, at her eighteen-year-old brother, Randy. She’d spent most of the night crying and had only gotten to sleep as the sun was coming up. She groaned, rolled back over and mumbled, “Let me sleep.”

  “Colt’s in the kitchen. He wants to know where he should start to work.”

  “Tell him…” She snuggled deeper into the covers, already drifting back to sleep.

  “I’ve got to get moving, or I’m going to miss the bus,” Randy said. He gave her shoulder a shove and asked, “What do you want me to tell Colt?”

  “Tell him to go away,” she said, covering her head with a pillow.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  A persistent knock on her bedroom door drew her back to consciousness. She decided to ignore it. With any luck, Colt would take the hint and go away. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to see anyone, looking and feeling like she did.

  The door opened a crack and Colt said, “Jenny? Are you awake?”

  “How can I sleep with all these interruptions?” she muttered irritably.

  He took that as an invitation to come in, and a moment later she felt his presence by the bed. Which was when she realized she was wearing one of Randy’s old football jerseys, and from what she could feel of the breeze from the open window on her bare thighs, it wasn’t covering much.

  She rolled onto her back, reaching for the sheet and blanket she must have kicked off and dragging them up to cover her. “What do you want, Colt?”

  “I brought you a cup of coffee.”

  She squinted one eye open. “You expect me to drink that?”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s likely to wake me up.”

  She saw the smile tilt his lips and the appearance of devastating twin dimples in his cheeks. “That’s the general idea,” he said. He seated himself beside her on the mattress and tousled her hair. “Come on, sleepyhead. Rise and shine.”

  She brushed his hand away. “I don’t want to get up.”

  “Too bad,” he said, sliding an arm under her shoulders to lift her up and sticking the coffee cup against her lips. “I need some marching orders, and you’re the only one here to give them to me.”

  Against her better judgment, she took a sip of the scalding liquid. “Oh, Lord. That’s strong enough that it might even work.”

  “I hope so,” he said. “Because I’m planning to spend the day with you. I’ll be glad to join you in bed, if that’s what you’d prefer—”

  She pushed the coffee away and scooted across the bed and out of it, tugging on the hem of the football jersey as she stood. “Give me a minute to get showered and dressed.” She headed for her chest of drawers to retrieve clean underwear and socks.

  “I’ll leave the coffee here, in case you need another jolt,” he said, setting the heavy ceramic mug on the end table beside her bed. “Oh, and Jenny…”


  She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

  “If you’re wearing Saturday on Wednesday, what happens when you get to the weekend?”

  Jenny stared at him uncomprehendingly until she realized she was wearing panties her brother Randy had given her for Christmas that were labeled with the days of the week. “So you’ll only have to do laundry once every seven days,” Randy had quipped.

  She flushed with embarrassment at the thought of Colt glimpsing her underwear and snapped, “Well, you could always barge into my bedroom again on Saturday to find out.”

  “Touché,” he said with a mock salute. “I’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  The shower didn’t help. Jenny’s eyelids felt like they weighed a pound each, and they scratched her eyeballs every time she blinked. Her mouth was dry, her throat was sore, and her whole body ached. She was angry at being forced out of bed, but she didn’t have the energy to fight.

  “Your breakfast is on the table,” Colt said when she arrived in the kitchen doorway.

  She stared at the trestle table, where he’d put out a wrinkled cloth place mat and napkin—who had time to iron?—with a set of mix-matched silverware. He’d made scrambled eggs and toast and provided a cup of orange juice beside another cup of steaming coffee. She felt both grateful and resentful. “I could have made something for myself.”

  He pulled out the ladder-back chair at the head of the table and shoved her into it. “Sure you could. If you weren’t dead on your feet. Eat.”

  “Are you going to join me?”

  “I ate before I came over.”

  “Are you going to hover like that, watching every bite that goes into my mouth?”

  He sat down in the chair to her right, then bounced up again. “Ouch!”

  “Oh. Watch out for the nail in that chair.”

  “You’ve got nails sticking out of the kitchen chairs?”

  She nodded, since her mouth was full of toast, then swallowed and answered, “My brothers’ football buddies did a lot of leaning back in those chairs. Afraid they couldn’t take the strain. Had to nail them back together.”

  “Why don’t you fix them right?”

  She shrugged. “No time. No money. No need.” She gave him a beatific smile. “We know where the nails are.”

  “Any other sharp points I need to avoid—besides your barbed tongue?” he said. “If Huck were here—” Colt caught himself too late. The words were out, invoking Huck’s presence.

  Jenny felt the beginning of tears and blinked to fight them back. The fork fell from her hand and clattered onto her plate. She covered her face with her hands as an awful wave of grief rolled over her. “Why did this have to happen?”

  She felt herself being lifted into Colt’s arms, then felt him settling into the ladder-back chair in her stead. Her arms slid around his neck, and she hid her face against his throat. “I can’t pretend this is just another day, Colt. Please, let me go back to bed. I want to sleep.”

  “When you wake up, he’ll still be gone,” Colt said soberly. “I know. I’ve had a week longer than you to deal with Huck’s death. The only thing that helps is work.”

  “I’m so tired. I didn’t sleep last night.”

  “If I let you sleep now, you’ll be awake all night tonight,” Colt said. “Then you’ll be tired again tomorrow. Work now. Sleep later. Can you eat any more?”

  She shook her head.

  He forced her off his lap and onto her feet. “Where do you suggest we start?” he asked as he led her toward the back door.

  “The cattle and horses need to be fed. I’ve got a few chickens that have probably laid eggs. The barn needs to be scraped and painted, the windmill in the west pasture isn’t working, the back porch needs some new posts before it falls down, there’s a leak in the roof that should be patched, I’ve got supplies to pick up in town—”

  “Whoa!” Colt said. “We’ll start with feeding the stock, then go pick up the supplies in town. Everything else can wait till we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.”

  Jenny looked at Colt—really looked at him. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he hadn’t slept much, either. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps work was the best way to keep the demons at bay. But they both needed to rest, as well, and she’d just come up with a solution for the problem.

  “The stock tank in the south pasture needs to be checked before the day is over,” she said. There happened to be a sprawling live oak near that tank. Once they got there, she’d tell Colt she needed to lie down for a little while in the shade and take a nap, and that she needed him to keep her company.

  EVEN THOUGH JENNY WAS CLEARLY exhausted, Colt had trouble keeping up with her throughout the day. The worst moments came when friends in town offered their condolences, along with memories of Huck that were so poignant they were painful.

  At the feed store Mr. Brubaker said to Jenny, “Remember the time you and Huck and Colt climbed up and painted J.W. + H.D.—True Love on the town’s water tower? If I ain’t mistaken, it’s still there.”

  Tom Tuttle at Tuttle’s Hardware said to Colt, “Always knew one of you boys would get hisself killed flying them jets. Glad it weren’t you, Colt. Sorry about Huck, Miss Jenny.”

  At the Stanton Hotel Café, Ida Mae Cooper said, “I recall the first time the three of you came in here together for a cherry soda. You were skinny as a beanpole in those days, Colt, and couldn’t take your eyes off Huck’s girl.”

  Colt shot a look at Jenny to see if she’d made anything of Ida Mae’s announcement, but she merely looked forlorn. She settled onto the red plastic seat of one of the several stools along the 1950s-era soda fountain and said, “No cherry soda for me, Ida Mae. Just strong black coffee.”

  Colt slid onto the stool next to her. “I’d like that cherry soda, Ida Mae.”

  Jenny glared at him as though he’d betrayed some trust, as though they couldn’t have cherry sodas anymore because Huck wasn’t there to have one with them.

  He met her stare with sympathetic eyes. “Huck won’t mind if we have a cherry soda, Jenny.”

  “Why does everybody keep talking about him?” she muttered. “Don’t they understand it hurts?”

  “They miss him, too,” Colt said simply.

  “Here’s that soda, Colt,” Ida Mae said. She eyed him speculatively and asked, “You planning to take care of Huck’s girl, now that he’s gone?”

  The question was loud enough—and volatile enough—to bring conversation in the café to a halt. Colt felt everyone’s eyes focus on him except Jenny’s. She stared determinedly into her coffee cup. Ida Mae waited expectantly for an answer.

  He took a deep breath and let it out. “Jenny and I haven’t made any plans beyond a memorial service a week from Friday. We’d like to invite everyone to come, if you’d be kind enough to pass along the word.”

  “Sure, Colt,” Ida Mae said, patting his hand. “I can understand it wouldn’t be a good idea to announce any more than that right now.”

  Colt opened his mouth to tell her she was way off the mark and closed it again. A denial that anything was going on between him and Jenny would likely stir up more gossip than saying nothing.

  It was late afternoon by the time they got back to the ranch. Jenny suggested they ride horseback to the stock tank. Apparently the spigot in the stock tank in her south pasture needed to be fixed. She was running on fumes by the time they got there. She dismounted and led her horse over to the aluminium tank for a drink, and Colt followed suit.

  “Where’s that faulty spigot?” he asked, checking the spigot on the tank, which wasn’t leaking as far as he could tell.

  “I guess Randy must have fixed it. As long as we’re here, we might as well take advantage of the shade.”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “There never was anything wrong with that spigot, was there?”

  “Nope.”

  There wasn’t much grass growing in the shade of the sprawling live oak growing near the tank, but he
watched Jenny find a patch of it and sit down. She patted the ground beside her and said, “Join me. It’s time for a nap.”

  Colt sighed. “If we sleep now—”

  “Sit down,” she ordered, “and shut up.”

  That brought a snappy salute and a “Yes, ma’am.” He dropped onto the ground beside her, suddenly feeling the results of too many haunted nights. He lay stretched out on his side, supporting his head with his palm. “Now what?”

  She stretched out, facing him, and laid her cheek on her arm. “Lie down. I can’t talk to you when your head’s so far above mine.”

  Reluctantly, he came down off his elbow and laid his head on his arm, facing her. For a long time they stared at one another without speaking. He reached out to touch her cheek, to brush away a tear. “Don’t cry, Jenny. I can’t bear it when you cry.”

  “I can’t help it. So many memories are shuffling around in my head.”

  “Mine, too,” he admitted.

  “Do you remember the last time we were here?”

  He chuckled. “That isn’t a day I’m likely to forget.”

  “I asked you if you’d teach me how to kiss,” she said. “Do you remember what you said?”

  “’No.’ Or more precisely, ‘Hell no!’”

  Her eyes lit with laughter, and her lips curled up at the corners. “I begged until you relented, because I didn’t want my first kiss with Huck to go awry.”

  “Craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” he said. “Teaching my best friend’s girl how to kiss.”

  “I wanted to know where my hands should go and where he’d put his hands.”

  “All over you,” Colt muttered, “if he could get away with it.”

  He heard Jenny’s laugh, a sound like a burbling brook, and realized it had been a very long time since he’d heard anything so pleasing. He smiled at her and let the memory of that long-ago day wash over him.

  They’d ridden horseback to the stock tank, because she’d said she had something important to discuss with him in private. While their horses had taken a drink, she’d popped the question. After his refusal, she’d gone to work convincing him.