Jenna nodded and he could see the spark of recognition in her eyes. Was he just telling her what she wanted to hear, or was there some truth to what Cash had just admitted? Damn, looking into Jenna’s soft tawny eyes had his head spinning. He wasn’t seeing straight, that was for doggone sure.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to plow the field. But keep the jug and the food here, for later. I’ll take the quilt back now. I’ll see you for supper tonight.”
“Right,” he said, relieved. He watched her sashay away, her torn skirts blowing in the breeze, and Cash knew one thing. Whether she was carrying his child or not, he didn’t like the thought of her working her fingers to the bone out on these fields. His own body ached with new awareness, the muscles screaming of abuse, but Cash was stronger than Jenna. She shouldn’t have to work so doggone hard. And while he was here, he’d see that she didn’t.
The sun had set. Jenna glanced at the meal she had waiting for Cash. It was beyond cold. She’d have to throw it back onto the stove to heat it up, if the man ever decided to come for his meal.
Half an hour ago, she’d seen him enter the barn. She figured he would take a moment to clean up before coming to the house. But he hadn’t come. Jenna paced the kitchen, wondering what was going on.
On impulse, Jenna opened the back door, ready to march into that barn to see what was taking Cash so long, but something caught her attention and she gasped. There on the doorstep sat the plate she’d given him today, cleaned and hosting the most amazing flower. A wild rose. The color of each petal, soft ivory, but the truly remarkable nature of the flower was that the outline of each one of those petals boasted a hue of pale peach.
“Oh, my!” Jenna lifted the plate and took it inside. She picked up the rose, studying it, awed by its beauty, but struck even more by its very existence. “Where did you find this, Cash?”
Jenna peered outside, but darkness had descended, a gray cloudy night with an absence of stars that denied her any view at all. She was late milking Larabeth. She couldn’t ignore that chore. She lit a lantern and headed for the barn. And if she happened to run into Cash, so be it.
When she entered the barn, all was dark and quiet. A quick stirring of fear rose up from her belly. “C-Cash? Are you in here?”
She heard a sound, and nearly jumped out of her skin. The low grumbling sound grew louder in pitch, then went soft again. Jenna lifted the lantern shoulder high and glanced around. All looked peaceful, and then the sound again seemed to boom across the barn. “Cash!”
He didn’t answer. But Scrappy showed his face, his dark eyes barely visible up on the hayloft. He gave her a look, as if to say, why are you disturbing my peace? “Where’s your master?” she whispered.
Then Jenna knew. She climbed the steps quickly and when she reached the top, it was just as she’d thought. Cash lay fast asleep on his bed of hay, his chest heaving, his slumber so labored that he snored.
She chuckled at the sight. And her heart softened a bit, ever so slightly, at the man who had been so sure he could master farming in one day that he’d nearly exhausted himself.
Jenna couldn’t wait until tomorrow. If he thought plowing was a challenge, just wait until he tried milking Larabeth.
Chapter Nine
“Put your hands under Larabeth’s udder,” Jenna instructed Cash. She sat beside him on an overturned bucket, giving him the official milking stool to sit upon. “And wiggle your fingers.”
“Like magic?” Cash turned to her, puzzled.
Jenna smiled. “Some say it’s the Lord’s magic. But in this case, Larabeth doesn’t like cold hands.”
She grasped Cash’s hands, feeling for warmth, but instantly she knew it was a mistake to hold him. They sat so close, their bodies nearly touching that when Jenna inhaled, the scent of man, of earth, hay and fresh soap, assailed her. She hadn’t forgotten his scent. She hadn’t forgotten many things about the man who had claimed her innocence. His hands felt warm enough, but it was the burn of his gaze that seared Jenna just then. She dropped his hands. “No need to wiggle,” she said lamely.
He stared deep into her eyes then after a moment, he asked, “Now what?”
“Now, take hold of her here. It’s all right, Larabeth,” she said to the cow, stroking her gently. “It’s going to feel a bit different, but you’ll do okay.” Jenna nodded for him to proceed then bit back a grin when Cash hesitated.
“Just hold her here and pull?” He appeared skeptical.
“Yes, right there. Make sure to get all the milk in the pail now.”
Cash shot her a look and Jenna did grin then.
“Here goes.” Cash grabbed hold and squeezed too hard. Larabeth jerked. Her tail lashed out like a long curling whip, smacking Cash upside the head. He leaned into Jenna, his body falling against hers. Both lost their balance and toppled off their seats. Next thing Jenna knew, Cash Callahan was beside her on the ground, half on top of her, nestled in a bed of hay.
They took one look at each other and burst out laughing.
Jenna had never seen Cash laugh so heartily. Tears actually filled his eyes, and it was long moments until his laughter simmered down.
Cash leaned over her, his eyes still twinkling, but there was concern in his voice. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No,” she whispered up at him.
“Can’t say as much for Larabeth.”
“You didn’t hurt her Cash, she was just startled.”
“I’m usually more gentle with the ladies,” he said candidly. His gaze softened, the blue twinkle only a tender gleam now. “I was with you, wasn’t I, Jenna?”
Jenna’s mind raced. She looked up at Cash, a man she didn’t really know. A gambler. A man who had married her, bedded her and had shown her a thing or two about passion. But he was still a stranger to her, someone who would leave soon. Yet her answer seemed important to him. And she couldn’t deny him the truth. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes, you were gentle.”
Cash plucked a few strands of straw from her hair, his fingers threading through her braid lightly. Jenna gazed up at him, fearful. Not of him, but of what his touch evoked within her. She didn’t cringe, didn’t pull away so when he lifted himself to stand upright, Jenna’s heart took an unexpected fall.
He reached down to take her hand and tugged her up. She found herself standing inches from him. “My lesson is most definitely over for today. Poor Larabeth, I believe we’ve confused the old girl, but I’d like to try again tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is fine.” Jenna nodded and began removing remnants of hay from her dress, fully aware that Cash watched her every move.
“Have you tried on the dress, Jenna?”
For a moment, she didn’t comprehend his question. Then she remembered the lovely garment he’d brought to her, the one she’d stowed away in her chest. Suddenly, she wished the subject were back on Larabeth and milking techniques. “No, no I haven’t.”
“I’d like to see it on you. Just once.”
It wasn’t quite a plea or a command, but his request fell somewhere in between.
“I, uh, I’ve been so darn busy.” She swatted a fly then returned the stool to the upright position. Cash did the same with the bucket. The milk pail he handed to her.
“Soon as I master milking Larabeth, you’ll have more time, Jenna. Then maybe you’ll try the dress on for me.”
For me. He made it sound so personal, so intimate. As though she’d be parading around in a fancy gown just for him. Jenna didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t understand what she was feeling. Cash Callahan confused her and made her edgy.
“I have to get breakfast.”
Cash inhaled sharply, the way he did when he was displeased. “All right. I’ll do some chores outside then see you in a bit.”
When Cash was out the barn door, Jenna set about milking Larabeth, soothing her with a song. But her mind wasn’t on milking. It was on unforeseen wild roses, pretty new dresses and a man hell-bent on stirring up Jenna’s emotions.
Cash patted Scrappy’s head. “What’s the matter, boy? You’ve been licking that paw all morning. Nearly kept me up half the night with that slopping sound you make.”
The dog lifted sorry eyes his way.
“You got an ailment there?” Cash was careful inspecting the dog’s paw. He didn’t see any thorns or sharp splinters that would give the dog reason to favor the paw, yet the animal continued licking. “Your bones are getting creaky, I’ll bet. Don’t you fret about that, happens to the best of us.”
He gave the dog one last stroke behind the ears then headed for breakfast.
When he entered the house through the back door, Jenna stood with her back to him, preparing the morning meal. He peered over her shoulder, his nostrils picking up an appetizing aroma. “Flapjacks?”
“With maple syrup and strawberry preserves.” Jenna flipped a browned flattened cake over with her spatula. “Coffee’s almost ready.”
“I’ll get it,” Cash said, lifting the pot from the stove to pour two mugs. He took them to the table and sat down, noting that Jenna had set out a vase, cracked in several places, but probably one of the finest pieces that she owned. The wildflower and rose he’d given her adorned the vase, surrounded by greenery he recognized from a shrub just outside the front door. The arrangement made a cheerful display and Cash wondered if Jenna was beginning to put the past behind her. She was too young and beautiful to give up hope for a happy future.
“Think Larabeth will forgive me?” Cash asked, his mood suddenly light.
He could see Jenna’s silent laugh from behind. “We’ll see tomorrow, won’t we?”
“She nearly knocked my brains out today. Wonder what other tricks she has ready for me.”
“I don’t know. You know what they say about a woman’s scorn.”
She set three large flapjacks onto his plate and added the same amount to hers. It looked like her appetite was picking up. Cash sipped his coffee, ready to dig into his meal, but the inquisitive look in Jenna’s eyes stopped him.
She stared at him, then at the flowers on the table between them. “They’re lovely.”
Cash swallowed. “I suppose.”
She turned to him. “Why’d you give them to me?”
He shrugged. He didn’t want to get into this. “I thought you’d like them.”
“I do,” she rushed out, “but why did you put them on the plate when you returned it? And where did you find such a beautiful rose?”
Cash knew he couldn’t lie to Jenna. He didn’t want to divulge anything unsavory about his life to her, but he’d lied enough already about the reason he was living here. He owed her more. He owed her the truth. “The rose is my secret.”
He shot her a quick smile. He’d found the rose bush way out beyond Turner’s Pond, miles from here. He’d gone back there a few times when he had no memory, thinking if he’d seen the place where Jenna had found him, he might recall something. It was there that he’d found the bush filled with wild roses, and he’d never forgotten it. But it was Jenna’s other question he really didn’t want to answer. “And the other goes back a long way.”
“I’m listening.”
Darn her, she was listening. Leaning forward on the table with eyes wide, Jenna eagerly waited to hear things Cash hadn’t wanted her to know.
He cleared his throat then took a sip of coffee.
Jenna sat patiently.
Staring at the flowers, he began, “My father abandoned the family when I was real young. My mother took his leaving real hard. We lived in an old shack, not much bigger than this here kitchen. There was never much to eat. My mother tried her best to keep us fed and clothed. Often we’d go on the streets, begging for food, hoping someone would take us in, or at least give us a meal. She had her pride, my mother, but she also had a young boy to feed. I know she did what she had to do to survive. And whenever anyone saw fit to feed us, my mother never returned the plate empty. She always said we ought to show our gratitude.
“I used to have a collection of rocks, shiny and unusual in ways that young boys think are special. If we couldn’t find a flower, or a nice button to lay on the plate, I’d give up one of my rocks.”
“And you never stopped showing your gratitude, Cash?”
He shook his head and laughed bitterly. “No. I can’t seem to break the habit.” Jenna’s eyes filled with understanding. The look tore up his heart.
“Some habits shouldn’t be broken,” she said softly. “What happened to your mama, Cash?”
“She died when I was ten.”
“Ten? Oh, Cash,” Jenna said, her voice laced with pity. He hated the sound, wanted to wipe that sorrowful look off her face. He didn’t need her pity. Hell, Jenna hadn’t had an easy life, either, losing her parents, having a no-account brother and working herself into old age on this farm. She had no right pitying him. He’d struggled, sure, but he’d survived and was a stronger man because of it.
“What happened to you?” The softness in her voice twisted his gut.
He turned to her and pierced her with a hard look. “I took up gambling.”
Jenna swallowed, her expression hard to read and Cash thought that would be the end of the discussion. Yet, she sat there, eyes still wide, waiting.
He took a slow breath, his mind conjuring up memories he’d like to leave in the past. “At first, it was just little things, like my best rock for someone’s lunch. I’d bet anybody who would take me up on it. I’d bet I could race them faster, throw a ball farther or steal a kiss from the prettiest girl in school.” Cash’s recollection of Betsy Cummings squealing at the top of her lungs when he’d done just that brought a smile to his face. “That one always brought me a good price.”
“I’d bet on anything, Jenna, and I became really good at it. I’d mastered the art of gambling by the age of fifteen. And I won often because I had something the others didn’t…a powerful need to survive. And I never bet on anything that wasn’t a sure thing. I learned early on that greed is a fierce motivator. I’d always offer something more valuable than my opponent was putting up. They gave little thought to what they stood to lose, until of course, they lost it.”
Jenna asked quietly, “But couldn’t you hire on at a ranch or work in town? Surely there were ways for you to earn a living besides gambling.”
“I tried that once. Didn’t work out.” Cash’s memory of his life on Beau Raley’s ranch was best kept to himself. He’d been just a boy then but he hadn’t been able to lock that terrible time away. It was a constant reminder to Cash of who and what he was. There was no changing that fact. “I’m no good at anything but gambling, Jenna. It’s what I do.”
Jenna rose from the table, her eyes clear with new knowledge. “Well then, I suppose it’s a real good thing you’ll be leaving the farm as soon as the planting’s done.”
Cash stood to face her, meeting those clear eyes directly. “As soon as the planting’s done. You have my word.”
Rain poured down hard. Jenna sat up in her bedroom, listening to the sound hitting the roof, the forceful knocks pounding as though ready to drive straight through. In some areas of the house it had, and Jenna had diligently placed buckets and bowls to catch the dripping water.
A blast of wind rumbled through the house and she shuddered, running her hands up and down her arms. She dashed to the window to make sure it was secured, then opened up the chest that sat at the foot of her bed. Reaching inside for a quilt to warm her, she shuffled aside the dress Cash had given her.
The garment, wrinkled slightly from being shoved inside a crowded chest, appeared just as stunning as ever. Jenna forgot about the quilt and took the dress out. On impulse, she lifted it up and pressed it to her body, fitting it against her to see just how close Cash had come to remembering her figure.
“Oh!” Jenna peered at herself in the cheval mirror, fully surprised at the perfect fit. The dress molded to her as if made especially for her and complemented the tawny hue of her eyes, the wheat color of her hair. �
�I don’t dare put it on,” she mused aloud. “I’ll never want to take it off.”
Jenna chuckled, her mood lifting. “That would be a sight, Jenna Duncan, farmer, plowing the fields in a dress fit for a princess.”
Still, Jenna didn’t have the heart to put the dress back into the trunk, as it would only wrinkle more. She had nothing to hang it on but the mirror, which was tall enough to accommodate the length of the gown. Two adornments at the top would suffice as holders to keep the dress from falling.
Jenna stepped back once she’d made the proper adjustments and admired her work. The dress hung grandly from her mirror. The reflection slightly visible from behind made its appearance seem all the more impressive. “It does take my breath.” Then Jenna admonished herself. “Silly woman, you do have chores to do. You can’t stay up here all morning, daydreaming.”
But Jenna did think about Cash while she worked, about his life and the events that had landed him on her doorstep. At times, it was more thinking than she wanted to do. She was just beginning to learn about the young boy who’d been left to his own devices at an early age and of the man Cash Callahan was today. And she wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing.
With the rain still coming down in buckets, Jenna resigned herself to her sewing, taking out a pile of socks that needed mending. But she noted the pounding on the rooftop sounded different this time. She looked up toward the ceiling as the steady tap, tap, tap sparked her curiosity. She put down her darning and rose. Then she noticed the constant annoying dripping filling two pails in her bedroom had ceased yet the rain was still coming down hard. Jenna reached for her wrapper, climbed down the stairs and ventured outside.
Cash caught sight of her from the rooftop. “Get back inside, Jenna. It’s freezing cold out here.”
Jenna only stared. Where did he get the wood to fix her roof? It wasn’t firewood; these planks were long and sturdy and fully capable of plugging her leaks. She’d tried many times to use sod to fill the gaps, but nature had a way of drying it off and blowing particles away, allowing rain to soak through.
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