Cowboy's Kiss

by Victoria Pade

  And oh, but the man could kiss!

  Whether he’d had plenty of practice with willing women like Marilyn Mercer, or whether it just came naturally to him, Ally didn’t know. Or care. His supple lips possessed hers; his tongue came teasing, courting, exploring.

  Like a match set to a gas jet, he ignited passion in her that she thought might have died three years ago. But instead it seemed to burn hotter, brighter now.

  For him...

  And suddenly that scared her. More than being lost in the open countryside. More even than Meggie’s shirt catching fire. More than the rattlesnake....

  She trailed her hands from his back in a suspender’s path to pectorals that were too firm not to notice and linger on for a split second before she forced herself to push against them.

  “I don’t think this is any better an idea tonight than it was last night,” she said in a breathy voice that exposed just how deeply she’d lost herself to it.

  He frowned at her for a moment, as if he, too, had been so involved in what was happening between them that her words didn’t at first register.

  Then he seemed to remember himself.

  He closed his eyes and she saw his sharp jawline tense, deepening the hollows of his cheeks. He looked almost as if he were enduring torture to have this cut short.

  “You’re right,” he said finally, when he opened his eyes to her again.

  And even though she knew she was, it still disappointed her to hear him agree.

  To hide it, she stood, very straight, very stiffly. Very formally she said, “Thanks for the special dinner tonight. You didn’t have to do it, but it was really thoughtful of you.”

  For a moment he still stared at the spot on the couch she’d just left.

  Then, slowly, he angled his head up in her direction. “You’re welcome,” was all he said, putting a final seal on their silent pact to go back to the way they’d been with each other before.

  Although not all the way back to his anger and goading of her.

  “You can sleep in till seven tomorrow,” he told her then.

  “That’ll be nice,” she answered, fighting the urge to return to where she’d been moments before, on the sofa beneath him, his hands holding her head, his hot mouth over hers....

  “Good night,” she blurted out in a hurry.

  “‘Night,” he answered much more slowly.

  And that was that. All she needed to do was go upstairs to the solitary sanctuary of her room.

  So what was she waiting for? Why was she still standing there, staring at him, wishing he’d pull her down to the couch with him again?

  “Good night,” she repeated, forcing herself to take that first step away from him. And then a second. And a third...

  But even as she finally left the room and crossed the foyer to the stairs, she could feel him following her with his eyes.

  And much too big a part of her wished much too much that the rest of him had followed her as well....

  Chapter Six

  Ally had not noticed much about Elk Creek itself when she’d first arrived from Denver. It had been late at night, dark, and she’d been more intent on the Hellers and their reaction to her and Meggie.

  But driving into town the next day in Jackson’s truck, she was eager to take in the sights and sounds of this place she’d chosen as her and her daughter’s new home.

  On the way they passed Heller-owned cornfields that gave way to a lumber mill Jackson explained was also part of their holdings and the beginning of the north end of the town proper.

  Next came a three-story school—one floor each for the levels of education it provided, elementary on the bottom, middle school on the second, and high school on the third.

  Sitting between Ally and Jackson on the truck’s bench seat, Meggie was impressed with the playground equipment that Jackson informed them was all new.

  His mood was light today, friendly, as he played tour guide and host. And though Ally knew she should resist the appeal of it, of him, she couldn’t help relaxing, sitting back and enjoying it.

  Elk Creek was divided right down the middle by Center Street, which, at the north end, blossomed into a circular drive around the park square with its Victorian streetlamps and benches, tall oak trees, and a huge gazebo where a sign announced dancing every Saturday night.

  Across from the park was the fire station; an imposing courthouse with a tall clock tower; an old red-brick Georgian mansion that had been turned into a medical facility; and a steepled church that took turns being all denominations, Jackson said.

  He had the radio on low, but when he stopped at the red light at the neck of the straightaway of Center Street, he turned it up slightly. Then he pointed a long finger in the direction of a glass-fronted building. The brass sign above the door proclaimed it a mining company, founded in 1888, but much bigger lettering on the windowpane below updated the place to WECW radio station.

  And with that, the disc jockey who faced the street waved at them and said over the airwaves, “Well, I’ll be hog-tied, folks, if I didn’t just look up and see what I thought was a family of three I didn’t recognize stopped at the corner light. But only two of the faces are new and it isn’t a family at all. It’s Jackson Heller finally bringing in our newest citizens—Ms. Ally Brooks and her daughter Meggie. ‘Bout time, Jackson.”

  Jackson just grinned over at the man.

  “Mom, he said our names on the radio!” Meggie exclaimed delightedly, perking up to peer around Jackson.

  “That’s Bucky Dennehy—he’s Kansas’s brother-in-law,” Jackson informed them as the DJ went on.

  “And yes, the rumors you all’ve been hearin’ are true. Ally—hope you don’t mind my usin’ your first name but we’re pretty informal ‘round these parts—Ally was the one delivered Beth and Ash Blackwolf’s baby girl yesterday. Guess we all know who to call when the stork’s comin’ and the doc’s gone fishin’. Now don’t be keepin’ those two pretty women to yourself, Jackson. Everybody’s anxious to meet ‘em. And let me be the first to say a big howdy and welcome to Elk Creek, ladies.”

  The light turned green just then and Jackson tapped the brim of the cowboy hat he wore with one finger and aimed it at the disc jockey in part wave, part salute as he headed into the business district.

  Or what passed for a business district, which was nothing like the skyscrapers of Denver. Elk Creek’s center of operations consisted of stately old buildings—some stone, some brick, some weathered wood—lining either side of Center Street, an avenue wide enough for two lanes of traffic and cars to park nose first in front of the offices and shops the buildings housed.

  Ally drank in the quaint, charactered charm of one-, two- and three-storied structures, some fancied up with shutters bordering paned windows, some mimicking country cottages, others looking like buildings out of an old Western movie, but all clearly well cared for and showing pride in what they had to offer.

  What they had to offer, as far as Ally could tell, was a little of everything. Insurance. Hardware. Maternity clothes and baby things. Real estate.

  There was an attorney. A baker. A butcher. A jeweler. A veterinarian. A small boutique and a much larger Western-wear store. Two restaurants. A movie theater. A bingo palace. An appliance store. A Laundromat and dry cleaners. An ice-cream parlor.

  And, of course, Kansas’s general store, which was where Jackson finally pulled over to the curb and parked.

  “Here we are,” he announced as he turned off the engine and swung out of the cab.

  Ally and Meggie had gotten into the truck without Jackson’s assistance at the ranch while he’d answered a question from Hans before they left. Certainly the last thing Ally expected now was for Jackson to come around to the passenger side and open the door for her.

  But that’s what he did, and in a hurry, too, before she could do it herself.

  Then he offered her a hand in climbing down.

  Ally looked at it, stunned.

  She’d gotten i
n and out of the truck a number of times working on the ranch and not once had he helped. So why now?

  Was it because she was wearing a dress? It was a loose-fitting flowered concoction with a flowing skirt—not anything binding that would make the descent hazardous.

  Or was he offering gentlemanly aid because they were in town now? Where friends and neighbors could see?

  That hadn’t mattered before, in front of the ranch hands, or his sister and Ash, or the Mercers.

  Or maybe it was just part of his pampering from the previous night. A payback for delivering his niece.

  But no matter what the reason for that extended hand, she suddenly remembered too vividly what the callused palm and long, thick fingers had felt like against her cheek when he’d kissed her at the end of the last evening. And she knew if she accepted it at that moment, even out in public, the contact would make the same sensations erupt inside of her. Sensations she should avoid having aroused at all.

  Yet there he was, being chivalrous again, and if she were to refuse him, it would set a sour tone for the whole rest of the day they were about to spend together. A day that had begun very pleasantly.

  So what else could she do? She took a deep, steeling breath and set her hand in his, trying to ignore the instant melted honey that sluiced up her arm.

  “Thanks,” she said when her feet hit the pavement. But her voice was softer than she’d have liked it to be, and much breathier.

  And then, to make matters worse, he didn’t let go. At least not right away. For about the same amount of time she’d hesitated in taking his hand, he held on to hers, making that melted honey run all the way to her toes. Especially when his thumb rubbed feathery circles on the back...

  “Hey, are you guys gonna let me outta here?” Meggie demanded from behind.

  Jackson released his grip then, though he didn’t actually let go; he seemed to slide away by slow increments that left tingling sparks in his wake. When Ally glanced up at his face she found a crooked, one-sided smile that completely threw her off track because she didn’t have the foggiest idea what it might mean. Was he teasing her with that touch? Tormenting her?

  Or was he merely enjoying the feel of her skin the way she’d enjoyed his?

  Wanting to escape that thought, along with the light of his eyes and the confusion he was wreaking, she spun around to lift her daughter down.

  When she’d done that and closed the truck door, she found Jackson standing with his broad back against the store’s door, holding it open, too.

  He was just being extra courteous as payment for her obstetrical services, she decided, because that was the safest answer and what she needed to think in order to fight her susceptibility to charm that could be very potent when he chose to show it.

  “We’d better say hello to Kansas before we do anything else or we’ll hurt her feelings,” he said then, waiting for them to go in ahead of him.

  Ally sent Meggie in and then followed, hating that she was so aware of the pure power and simmering sensuality of the man as she passed in front of him, and trying not to breathe too deeply of his heady after-shave.

  Once inside, Ally made a concerted effort to concentrate on something besides Jackson and his sudden show of good manners. With Kansas nowhere in sight, that left the place itself as her only diversion, so she developed an instant interest in it.

  She wondered if Jackson’s sister-in-law intentionally kept it looking like a turn-of-the-century country store or if it just hadn’t been changed since then. Either way it had a great ambience.

  The smell of spices and fresh-brewed coffee wafted around wood-and-glass display cases, oak shelves that climbed all the walls to the ceiling, and even a potbellied stove in one corner.

  But in spite of the old-fashioned atmosphere of the place, it offered most of what could be found in any of Denver’s grocery stores, including some gourmet items.

  “I’ll bet that’s Jackson, Ally and Meggie,” Kansas called to them from what sounded like the back of the store even before they could see her. Then she came around one of the freestanding aisles of shelves. “Figured it was you all since I just heard Bucky say you were on your way into town,” she said as she joined them up front.

  “You figured right,” Jackson answered her. Then he added, “‘Mornin’.”

  “Another hour and it’ll be afternoon,” she said with a laugh. Then she lowered her gaze to Meggie and grinned more broadly than she had at Ally and Jackson. “There are fresh doughnuts on the coffee cart near the cash register. You can help yourself if your mom says it’s okay.”

  Ally nodded her permission when Meggie looked to her for it, and the little girl left them.

  “How about you two? Coffee and doughnuts?” Kansas offered.

  “None for me,” Ally declined.

  “Have any of those cream puffs?” Jackson asked, not waiting for an answer before trailing after Meggie.

  The thought of the big, gruff man munching a cream puff made Ally smile and she considered pointing out to him that there weren’t many things more froufrou than that.

  But when he came back with one and offered her a bite, she actually took it, a little surprised at the familiarity that he was fostering between them and a lot surprised at herself for so willingly accepting it.

  “Have you talked to Beth or Ash today?” Kansas asked then, as if the exchange had been an everyday event.

  “I called,” Jackson answered the same way, “but the switchboard said they were with the baby for feeding time and wouldn’t put me through. How ‘bout you?”

  “Linc and I drove in to Cheyenne last night to see them all,” Kansas said, going on with reassurances that Beth and the baby were doing well, and marveling at Ally having performed the delivery.

  When that subject had been exhausted, she said, “How about coming to our house for supper tonight since you’re already in town? Or won’t you be here that long?”

  The questions were aimed at both of them but it was Jackson who answered. “We were planning on spending the day,” he said first. Then he looked to Ally. “What do you think? Want to stick around into the evening?”

  “Sure,” she answered, hating that she sounded confused, except confused was what she was.

  “How ‘bout you, Miss Meggie? Want to eat with Kansas and Linc and Danny tonight?” he called.

  “Okay,” she said with her mouth full of doughnut.

  Ally would have reprimanded her, but she was more focused on Jackson and wondering what had gotten into him. Helping her out of the truck, holding doors for her, including her in a decision...

  Not that it wasn’t an improvement. But it was disconcerting to have him acting as if the three of them were, indeed, the family the disc jockey had at first mistaken them for.

  “We’ll just barbecue,” Kansas was saying. “I close up at six but if you guys get tired of walking around town earlier than that go ahead and go over. The front door is unlocked, so just make yourselves at home and we’ll throw something together when I get there.”

  “Sounds good.” Jackson had finished his pastry by then and clapped the crumbs off his hands. “I’m treatin’ these girls to lunch in an hour or so. Want to meet us over at Margie Wilson’s café and I’ll buy yours, too?”

  “I’m waiting for a truck full of ice cream that should get here about then or I would.”

  “Well, we’d better take off,” he said. “You ready for some gen-u-ine cowboy boots, Meg?” he called over his shoulder again.

  “Yes!” the little girl called back excitedly.

  This was the first Ally had heard of cowboy boots for Meggie, genuine or not. “What are you talking about?”

  Meggie had skipped to her side in time to hear that and answer it before Jackson could.

  “Jackson said for doin’ such a good job paintin’ he’d buy me some cowboy boots. Real ones, like him ‘n’ Hans ‘n’ the hands wear.”

  “No harm in that, is there?” he asked Ally.

  �
�I guess not,” she answered, surprised yet again by the way this day was playing out.

  “Let’s get to it, then,” Jackson ordered, accepting the hand Meggie slipped into his as if it happened all the time, and once more holding the shop door for Ally to go back outside.

  * * *

  The cowboy boots Jackson bought Meggie were much more expensive than Ally approved of. But Meggie clearly wanted the turquoise ones with the tassels on the sides and Jackson indulged her in spite of Ally’s protests.

  “This is a deal between Meggie and me, so you just don’t have any say in it, Ally. Sorry,” he said as he told the salesgirl to wrap up the shoes Meggie had been wearing so she could wear the boots out.

  But Meggie taking Jackson’s hand and his buying her the cowboy boots weren’t the only signs Ally had that he and her daughter had already formed a bond she hadn’t been aware of. As the day progressed, she began to realize that the two of them were very relaxed with each other, as if they’d known each other forever.

  They shared a surprisingly similar sense of humor and tastes in things like ice cream—butter brickle—and snow cones—grape and cherry mixed. And they were cohorts and coconspirators in more than just the cowboy boots. Ally learned of the practical jokes they’d played on Hans, the teasing they’d done to Marta, and some trick they were trying to teach Mutt.

  Basically, they seemed to have formed a fast friendship. And seeing how good Jackson was with Meggie helped soften Ally’s opinion of the man even more than the pleasantries and the good time he was offering.

  And it was a good time.

  Jackson insisted on buying their lunch and, while they ate, telling stories that made them laugh, about a Fourth of July pig stampede that had ruined the annual parade one year; about a man who kept his horse in the living room; and various other anecdotes about some of the people he introduced them to.

  Then he took them browsing through Elk Creek’s shops, filling them in on more town tall tales, history and legends, and basically just entertaining them with his quiet, understated wit and a wryness that was yet another facet of him Ally hadn’t seen before.