The Texan's Future Bride

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “The way you gave her pointers about dolling herself up?”

  Jenna smiled. “It might be a good trade.”

  “Sounds like it to me.” He studied her again. She certainly knew how to make herself look pretty. Whatever she was wearing on her lips created a warm, kissable effect. “You can use me as a guinea pig if you want.”

  “For my cooking?”

  Or kissing, he thought. “Yes, cooking.”

  “You’re already suffering from a head injury. I don’t want to poison you, too.”

  “I’m sure I’d survive it.”

  “I’d rather not take the chance.”

  “I probably won’t be here long enough anyway.” No poison food. No soft, sweet, poison kisses, either. He needed to stop thinking about how alluring she was.

  “Do you like the pudding?” she asked.

  He glanced at his cup. He’d only taken a few bites. He’d been too busy admiring her. “Yes, it’s good.”

  “Butterscotch is my favorite.”

  He noticed that she’d barely made a dent in hers, either. “You’re not gobbling it up very quickly.”

  “I’m savoring it.”

  “So am I,” he lied, when in fact, he’d been savoring her.

  “This is nice, sitting out here with you.”

  “Thanks. I think so, too.” He couldn’t envision anything nicer. Well, actually he could, but he’d warned himself not to obsess about kissing her. “We’re becoming friends.”

  Friends and only friends, he reiterated.

  While a soft Texas breeze blew, he asked, “What’s the name of this town?”

  “Buckshot Hills. I’m surprised no one told you before now.”

  “It must have slipped their minds.”

  “It slipped mine. I wonder how long it will take for Deputy Tobbs to start questioning the locals about you.”

  “Soon, I hope.”

  “Once you’re feeling better, I can take you on a tour of the Flying B and introduce you to the people who work here, like Deputy Tobbs suggested.”

  “Wouldn’t it be ironic if I was on my way to visit someone at the Flying B when I got hurt?”

  “It would certainly solve the mystery, and quickly, too.”

  There was a mixed-up part of him that wished he’d been on his way to visit her, that she’d been his agenda. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to control his attraction to her. He even worried that he might have an intimate dream about her tonight, with or without a so-called magic bed.

  After they finished their pudding, she said, “I really should go now.”

  He didn’t try to stop her. It was better to have some distance between them.

  She left, and he watched her go.

  About an hour later, someone rapped at the door, and he jumped up to answer it, wondering if she’d returned.

  But it was Doc, with his medical bag.

  The other man said, “Jenna told me that she put you up in this cabin. How do you like it?”

  “It’s fine. But I don’t believe that the bed is magical. I know you do, though.”

  “I’m a man of science, but I’ve learned that sometimes logic doesn’t apply.”

  J.D. didn’t respond, and the subject was dropped. Regardless, the feeling remained. He was still concerned that he might have a sensual dream.

  Doc examined him and recommended more bed rest. J.D. followed orders and went to sleep early that night. He didn’t dream about Jenna.

  Much to his shock, he dreamed about himself, with an emotion-packed glimpse of who he was as a child.

  Chapter Four

  Jenna looked across the table at Donna. They were having breakfast together again, and today Donna was paging through wallpaper samples that were stacked beside her.

  “We really should stop meeting like this,” Jenna said.

  Her sister glanced up and rolled her eyes. But she smiled, too, lightening the moment.

  After their mom died, they rarely shared a meal. They would just grab their food and go. Actually, they hadn’t dined together all that much when Mom had been around, either. She’d been depressed over the divorce, then she’d gotten sick.

  “Our childhoods sucked,” Jenna said, thinking out loud.

  Donna crinkled her face. “This isn’t a discussion we should be having.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because sitting around wallowing in the past isn’t going to change anything.”

  “I wasn’t wallowing.” She was trying to have a meaningful conversation. “It wouldn’t hurt to talk things through once in a while.”

  “I don’t see the point in crying over spilt milk. We need to focus on the B and B and making it a success.”

  “That’s what we’ve been doing.”

  “Then let’s not lose sight of it.”

  Jenna considered her sister’s determination. A failed business venture had put a dent in Donna’s bankbook, damaging her self-esteem and putting her glamorous life at risk. The B and B was her chance to make up for it.

  Donna lifted a paisley-printed swatch. “What do you think of this for the bedroom that overlooks the garden?”

  “What garden?”

  “The one I’m designing with the landscaper. I told you about it before.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I did. It’s going to have a redwood gazebo and a boatload of flowering perennials. Daisies in the summer, Texas bluebonnets in the spring. It’ll be a perfect spot for weddings and special events.”

  “It sounds beautiful, and I think the wallpaper is pretty, too.”

  “I don’t know.” Donna gave the swatch a critical eye. “Maybe I should use a Western pattern. My goal is to create an idyllic atmosphere but without infringing on the natural environment.”

  “You’re doing a great job so far.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve always admired your sense of style.” Jenna hadn’t been born with a gift of flair, not like her sister. “I learned how to put myself together from watching you.”

  “Really?” Donna seemed surprised, maybe even a little embarrassed by the praise. “Well, you know what? You did a spectacular job of helping Tammy with her makeover. She looks like a million now.”

  “It was fun, and she nabbed the prize, too.”

  “The Prince Charming doctor? You’d never catch me playing the role of Cinderella.”

  For a moment, Jenna was tempted to tell Donna about Caleb’s interest in her, but she figured it was pointless since it wouldn’t go anywhere, anyway. She said instead, “I gave J.D. one of the toiletry satchels you created for our guests.”

  “Who’s J.D.?”

  “The man with amnesia. That’s what we’re calling him until we know his real name. It’s the initials for John Doe. I offered to let him stay at the ranch until his memory returns or until the police uncover his identity.”

  “I wonder which will come first.”

  “I don’t know. I put him in the dream cabin.”

  “Did he like the toiletries? I labored over what brand of shampoo and conditioner to order.”

  “I’m sure the shampoo and conditioner will be just fine, when he’s able to use them. For now, he isn’t supposed to get his stitches wet.” But that was the least of Jenna’s concern. “Why did you include condoms in those bags?”

  “Because other top-notch establishments provide prophylactics to their guests. Actually, I was thinking that I should use little baskets to display everything instead of the satchels. What do you think?”

  “Baskets would definitely be better. No surprises. I nearly died when J.D. pulled the condoms out of that bag.”

  Donna furrowed her delic
ately arched brows. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on him.”

  “What?”

  “Why else would you want to die over a box of condoms?”

  “Because I barely know him.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Because Flying B romances are chock-full of trouble.”

  “That isn’t a very nice thing to say about Tammy and Doc.”

  “I wasn’t talking about them. It’s nice that Tammy is walking around all shiny and new.”

  “So, you were talking about Savannah Jeffries? Maybe it’s time for us to have a discussion about her.”

  “I’d rather not.” Although the detachment in Donna’s voice was evident, so was the vulnerability. “Savannah Jeffries has nothing to do with our future.”

  Jenna wasn’t so sure about that. Already Savannah was affecting them. “We can’t ignore it forever. We’re going to have to vote on the P.I. issue.”

  “Not at the moment, we don’t.”

  True. The rest of the family had to decide, as well—the rest of them being Tammy and her brothers, Aidan and Nathan.

  The fathers were being excluded from the vote, mostly because Jenna and Donna didn’t want their dad to have a say in the mess he’d made. As for Uncle William, Tammy said that he preferred to be left out of it anyway, as he just wanted the whole thing to disappear. The way Savannah had disappeared, Jenna thought.

  Suddenly her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw the landline number from the dream cabin. She walked away from the table and answered it.

  “J.D.?” she said.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “No, not at all. How are you feeling?”

  “Truthfully? I’m overwhelmed. The bed worked, Jenna. I dreamed about myself last night. A memory dream. Do you want to come by and I’ll tell you about it?”

  Her heart struck her chest. “Yes, of course. I’m on my way.”

  The call ended, and she approached table. “I have to go,” she told Donna.

  Her sister turned in her chair. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes.” At least she hoped it was. J.D. didn’t say if his dream was good or bad. Overwhelmed could apply to either.

  She left the house and climbed in her truck. The cabin was within walking distance, but only on a leisure day. She wanted to hurry up and get there.

  She arrived within a matter of minutes, and he was waiting for her on the porch.

  She ascended the steps and they stood face-to-face. He was clean shaven, and without the stubble, his strong-boned features were even more pronounced.

  He was wearing one of Caleb’s shirts, but he’d left it unbuttoned. The jeans were Caleb’s, too, and they fit him a little snugger than his own. She assumed that he had a pair of the new boxers on underneath.

  “Do you want to talk out here or go inside?” he asked.

  “It’s up to you.” Where they conversed didn’t matter. She was distracted by him: his abs, his navel, the frayed waistband of his borrowed jeans. Even his bare feet seemed sexy.

  He said, “Let’s stay out here.”

  Normally the outdoors soothed her. But being around J.D. was turning her into a jumble of hormones. She’d lied to Donna about not having a crush on him.

  Instead of taking a chair, he sat on the porch steps. She had no choice but to sit beside him, far closer than a chair would’ve allowed.

  “Was it a good dream?” she asked quickly.

  “Yes, but it was troubling, too. I saw myself as a boy. I was about ten. I was in a barn, grooming a sorrel mare. I grew up around horses, Jenna. I could feel it during the dream.”

  “Why is that troubling?” She thought it was wonderful. She’d pegged him as a cowboy from the beginning.

  “I was the only person in the dream. I didn’t get a feeling about my family. For all I know, I could have been a foster kid who was too old to get adopted.”

  That struck her as an odd thing for him to say. Was it a memory struggling to surface? “Were you sad in the dream?”

  “No. But I was with the mare, and I felt a connection to her. She made me happy.”

  Horses always made Jenna happy, too, but they gave a lot of people joy. His bond with the mare didn’t prove or disprove what type of childhood he’d had. His foster care/adoption comment was too specific to ignore, though. “Maybe the dream will continue on another night.”

  “Maybe.”

  She studied his chiseled profile. “What did you look like as a ten-year-old?”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “I just want to know.” To see him through his own eyes.

  “I was on the small side, a skinny kid, and my hair was sort of longish. A little messy, I suppose.” He shrugged, but he smiled, too. “I was wearing a straw cowboy hat, and I had sugar cubes in my shirt pocket for the mare.”

  She smiled, as well. She liked envisioning him as a youth and she liked the boyishness that had come over him now. He seemed wistful. If he hadn’t made the foster-child remark, she would’ve assumed that he’d had a solid upbringing. But he had made the remark, and it weighed heavily on her mind.

  “Tell me more about the dream,” she said. “Were you in Texas? Is that where you grew up?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t get a sense of the location.”

  “What was the barn like?”

  “I couldn’t tell how big it was, but it was well maintained.”

  “Did you get a sense of how long you’d lived there?”

  “No.”

  “But you sensed that you’d been raised in an equine environment?”

  “Yes.”

  “So if you were a foster child, then all of the homes you’d been placed in had horses? How likely do you think that is?”

  “I have no idea.” He changed the subject. “So, why don’t you tell me about the horses on the Flying B?”

  “We have plenty of great trail horses that Tex used to favor and that anyone on the ranch can use at their leisure, but I’m still acquiring school horses.”

  “For your riding instruction?”

  She nodded. “They have to be able to accommodate any level of rider. I’ll need a string of them for group lessons, but I’m being extremely cautious, hand-selecting each one. I have two wonderful geldings, so far.”

  “Will you take me to see them?”

  “Today?”

  “Yes, now. Today. I want to know how being around horses makes me feel in person. You can introduce me to the employees on the ranch, too, and see if any of them recognize me.”

  “I think I better check with Doc before I take you on a tour. You’ve only been out of the hospital for a day.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “I still think I should talk to him.” She removed her phone from her purse and called Doc, but she got his answering service. “He’s supposed to call me back.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as he’s able.”

  J.D. stood up. “I’m going to get ready.”

  He went into the cabin and came back, carrying his socks and boots. Jenna couldn’t blame him for being anxious, but what if he was jumping the gun?

  “Doc might not think you’re ready for an outing,” she said.

  “He will if you tell him about my dream. Besides, I’ll go stir-crazy just sitting around here.”

  After his boots were in place, he buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his pants.

  “I forgot my belt.” Off he went to retrieve it.

  She took a moment to breathe, as deeply as she could. Watching him get dressed was making her warm and tingly.

  He returned with the belt halfway threaded through his b
elt loops. She should’ve turned away, but like the smitten female she was fast becoming, she trained her gaze on his every move.

  This was crazy. Now she felt as if she had a concussion, and she hadn’t even taken a hit to the head. Not literally, anyway. Figuratively, she’d been struck and struck hard.

  Determined to keep her wits, she thought about her list. Aside from his physical attributes and his newly discovered connection to horses, he didn’t meet her requirements. First and foremost, the man she chose had to be as marriage-minded as she was, and J.D. didn’t seem like the husband type. Nor was she foolish enough to believe that he was going to dream himself into that role.

  He sat beside her, pulling her out of analytical mode and back into a heap of emotion. His nearness caused a chemical reaction.

  Fire in her veins. Pheromones shooting from her pores.

  Before the silence grew unbearable, she said, “If you were raised around horses, then I’ll bet you’re a skilled rider.”

  He shot her a half-cocked grin. “Give me a bucking bronc to ride and we’ll see.”

  She laughed, albeit nervously. She hadn’t recovered from his nearness. “All I need is for you to get tossed on your head. Doc would accuse me of trying to kill his patient.”

  Finally the doctor in question called, and Jenna spoke with him.

  Afterward, she told J.D., “He said it was fine, as long as you don’t stay too long or wear yourself out.”

  “I knew he would agree.” He reached over to give her a hand up.

  Being touched by him didn’t help her condition. She was still fighting fire, pheromones and everything else that had gone wrong with her.

  “Are we going to walk?” he asked.

  “I think it would be better to take the truck.”

  He glanced out in the distance. “How far is it?”

  “Not that far. But too far for a man with a head injury,” she amended. “Doc said not to tax your energy.”

  “Did he specifically say that I shouldn’t walk?”

  “No, but I’m saying it.” For the second time that day, she avoided a leisurely stroll.

  After they got in the truck, he turned toward her. “Thanks, Jenna.”