by Jeanne Allan
“I felt that little laugh,” Jake said lazily, threading fingers through her hair. “What’s so funny?”
“You and me. We don’t like each other.” She lifted her head. “I think you’re bossy and obnoxious. You think I’m a weakling.” She pressed her fingers against his mouth. “Let me finish. If we passed on the street or worked in the same office, we wouldn’t bother to exchange the time of day. The only reason there’s this physical attraction, or whatever it is, between us is because we’re the only two people of the opposite sex and a certain age on this ranch. Chemistry, proximity, call it what you will, it doesn’t mean anything.”
He wrapped his hand around her fingers. “I don’t think you’re a weakling. You’ve taken on raising a child who’s not your own. You’re trying to give her a good, happy life and a home.” He pressed a kiss against the palm of her hand. “The man who wins you will be a lucky man.” His hand tightened around her fingers. “I’m almost sorry I won’t be around to meet him.”
The fierce, almost convulsive way he squeezed brought pain to her fingers before he released her hand. That pain waned in comparison to the pain of reality. She’d momentarily forgotten Jake Stoner wasn’t a man to settle down. “I’d better get up before someone comes outside.” For the first time she considered the possibility of someone catching her and Jake in such embarrassing circumstances. Doris could come out on the porch. Or Tom. He was watching TV with Doris. He might decide to head over to the stone house. Either of them could come to the door to let Mack out. Rolling off Jake’s warm body, Gwen struggled to her feet. “I’m sorry you fell off the porch.”
“I’m not.” Jake folded his arms behind his head.
“Yes, well, I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
“You’re leaving without kissing me. That hurts, boss lady. That hurts real bad.”
“You could have kissed me.” Gwen froze, appalled at what she’d blurted out.
Jake chuckled. “Next time I will, boss lady. I’ll kiss you until your toes tingle and jump right out of those fancy laced-up boots you wear.”
His presumptuous arrogance dispelled any desire to kiss him. If any such desire had ever existed. “There won’t be a next time.” Wheeling about, she headed for the porch steps. Over her shoulder, she added, “You’re just passing through, remember?”
“I’m not leaving before I kiss you. That’s a promise.” Suddenly he repeated in a loud, firm voice, “You hear that? I promised.”
Gwen slammed the screen door. For good measure, she slammed shut the inside door, too.
Tom appeared in the doorway to the living room. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. A snake in the grass is all.”
The old man frowned. “I better check.”
“Don’t bother. He’s crawled back to his hole by now.”
“What kind of snake?”
“The male kind,” Gwen bit out. She dashed up the stairs.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Tom’s voice carried up the staircase after her. “Jake kissed Gwen again. I tell you, Doris, he’s the darnedest man for kissing women. Going to get himself in trouble one of these days.”
Gwen could have yelled down that Jake Stoner was already in trouble. And that he had not kissed her. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her. She didn’t yell anything. Her luck, Doris and Tom would think she actually wanted Jake to kiss her.
Inside her bedroom, Gwen clutched one of the tall bedposts with both hands, tempted to bang her head against the cold brass. Bang it hard enough to knock some sense into her feeble brain. What was the matter with her? Cuddling on the ground with Jake Stoner. She detested him. He was arrogant, bossy, obnoxious, a pain in the neck. A man who’d always be moving on. Never settling down. She didn’t want a man with itchy feet. Not that the kind of man she wanted someday had anything to do with Jake Stoner.
Looking up, Gwen caught sight of herself in the mirror. “Oh, all right,” she said crossly. “I did want him to kiss me. He’s the only man in a million miles, and everybody likes to be kissed once in a while. A silly kiss doesn’t mean a thing.” It was crazy, but the face in the mirror seemed to be laughing at her.
Jake decided honor wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He’d wanted to rip Gwen’s clothes off, shred those damned jeans she wore. Now he knew how thirsty cattle felt fenced off from water. Frustrated. Knowing what was there if they could break through. Touching Gwen’s skin would be like caressing silk. Silk encasing a warm, rounded bottom. Maybe next time he wouldn’t be quite so honorable.
He made a derisive sound. Honor. A strange word for an outlaw to use.
He was a man with a man’s needs. He’d thought about persuading Marian to lie with him before they married, but he’d not lusted after her the way he lusted after Gwen. Now he wondered if, hidden deep inside him where he could ignore it, had been the knowledge that Marian’s airs and graces masked a weak and shallow person. She’d have sneered at the pants and man-styled shirts Gwen wore, but all Marian’s feminine ways, swaying skirts, and perfumed petticoats couldn’t make her half the woman Gwen was.
Jake’s body tightened at the memory of Gwen’s body molded to his length. No one could doubt Gwen had all the necessary physical equipment in all the right places. She might not fit Marian’s definition of a lady, but she definitely fit Jake’s definition of a woman. Soft where a woman ought to be soft.
A woman to many and have children with. Any child Gwen gave birth to would come out squalling lustily, ready to take on the world. Bright, eager children. Tough and capable. Sons and daughters a man could be proud of.
Jake had expected to have those children with Marian. He would have been a good father, like his pa. He’d have shown his sons how to do things. He wouldn’t have used the whip. As his step-pa had been fond of doing.
He thought of the way Gwen rushed up to the house to protect Crissie. He suspected Gwen would always fight to protect those she loved. She wouldn’t stand by and watch a child of hers be horsewhipped. He had a feeling Gwen would grab that horsewhip and use it against the man who dared harm her child.
He’d never told Marian about his step-pa horsewhipping him. Or about his ma coming to him afterward and telling him he’d better leave. He’d known Ma meant she was too weak to protect him, but he’d not held it against her. Not after a while. Before he’d left, he’d even promised her, if she ever needed him, he’d be there. He’d meant if she wanted to leave her husband. She’d asked for help with Luther.
Marian thought he ought to ignore his mother’s letter. Told him to wait awhile and then write his mother that he’d looked and couldn’t find Luther. Marian said his mother was far away in Texas and would never know. Jake told Marian he would know. He couldn’t refuse Ma. Not when he’d promised.
He’d promised Gwen he wouldn’t leave before he kissed her again. He’d said it loud so Michaels would hear, no matter where his sorry hide was.
He could have kissed Gwen tonight.
She wouldn’t have objected. He hadn’t kissed her because it didn’t seem right. Apologizing and then stealing a kiss. Not that he would have been stealing anything. He grinned. Gwen hadn’t meant to say that about him not kissing her. Light from the house had shown him the dismayed look on her face.
He should have kissed her. The next time he would.
Jake shut his eyes and remembered how good rounded, denim-covered flesh felt against his palms. His blood warmed as he recalled the soft mounds which had pressed against his chest.
Damn Michaels for sending Jake here. Tonight, when Gwen had thanked him for saving Crissie, he could have told her Crissie had never been in serious danger. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but he knew it now. If Jake had been sent to save Crissie’s life, once he’d done so, Michaels would have summoned him back from earth.
Which would have been fine with Jake. A dead man should be at peace. He shouldn’t have stirrings in his groin.
Crissie’s bed was empty. Through the heating ducts Gwen could hear her niec
e chattering away, with an occasional response from Doris. Gwen thanked her lucky stars for the housekeeper. She’d worried that Doris, used to keeping house for adult males, might balk at taking on a young woman and a small child, but Doris had been thrilled. A widow without children, Doris had happily taken Gwen and Crissie under her wing. Gwen didn’t know how she’d manage without the other woman.
Knowing Doris had her eagle eye on Crissie, Gwen took a quick shower and dressed before going downstairs. Her hair hung damply to her shoulders.
From the kitchen came the sound of Crissie still talking. Gwen couldn’t pick out Crissie’s words but she smiled as her niece giggled. A smile wiped off her face by the deep-throated laugh which followed. A masculine laugh. Jake.
Gwen hesitated at the bottom of the staircase. Jake should have eaten and gone to work by now. She hadn’t anticipated dealing with him until lunch. He’d saved Crissie, and Gwen was grateful, but he had to understand he couldn’t continue to treat Gwen like his personal toy. She’d tell him so.
Except her mind boggled at the idea of telling Jake Stoner anything. Better to simply pretend last night never happened. Let Jake Stoner think that whatever had happened, and really, nothing had... He hadn’t even kissed her. Hadn’t even wanted to kiss her. Never mind that. All she had to do was greet him in a cool, distant manner, making it perfectly clear she wanted no repetition of what had happened. Not that anything had happened.
An omission she could quit harping on any second now. Kissing Jake Stoner once had been a mistake. Anyone could make a mistake. Gwen headed for the kitchen. “Good morning.”
“Me and Jake is eating breakfast.”
Jake looked over Crissie’s head and smiled. “Sleep well?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Gwen regretted the question the minute it left her mouth. His smile changed. From casual and friendly to masculine surety. A smile which reminded her she was a woman and he was a man. Not that she needed reminding. Gwen resisted an impulse to fan herself. The August day promised to be another hot one. The kitchen was already uncomfortably warm. Gwen dragged her gaze from Jake and looked around. Doris had been baking. Pecan rolls cooled on a rack on the countertop. Relief ran over Gwen. Being hot had nothing to do with the look in a certain pair of gray eyes. It had to do with baking bread. Gwen snatched a warm roll and took a big bite. “Mmm, these are delicious.” She licked a dollop of caramel frosting off her lower lip. “Absolutely yummy.”
“Parades are yummy, aren’t they, Jake, I mean pardner?”
“Well, pardner,” Jake drawled, “yummy covers a whole lot of territory.” He directed a meaningful look at Gwen’s mouth.
She swallowed the bite of roll. He thought he could disconcert her at the breakfast table. He couldn’t. “It looks like a beautiful day today. Is it too much to hope that I may ride outside the corral today?”
“Me and Jake is going to a parade,” Crissie cried. “You can come.”
“A parade?”
The kitchen timer bonged, and Jake stood up. “The Arkansas Valley Fair is taking place this week in Rocky Ford. Doris told Tom and me all about it this morning.” He took an angel food cake from the oven. “It’s the oldest fair in the state of Colorado, started in 1878. Today’s the big parade. Doris said she and Bert never missed the fair.” He gave Gwen a comically helpless look. “Do you know how to do this?”
Gwen took the cake pan from him and turned it over. Concentrating on resting the pan’s three legs on the upside down mugs sitting on the countertop, she said, “I don’t want to go to a fair.”
“Sure you do,” Jake said easily. “You and I and Doris and pardner are all going. Doris went upstairs to get ready.”
“Someone has to stay here and watch the cows or something.”
“Tom’ll be here. Says he’s too old for fairs.”
“He doesn’t want someone to see him who knows his son.” Gwen knew Tom had arranged for a letter to be delivered to his family, but he refused to phone them. Said his son had one of those devices on his phone which showed the phone number of the caller.
“A man doesn’t want to be found, that’s his business. Trust me, I know. Our business is going to a parade, right, pardner?”
“Right. Going to a parade.” Crissie screwed her face up toward Jake. “Wash.”
He laughed and dampened the kitchen towel. “What a mug.” When he finished with Crissie’s face and hands, he wiped off the table and the floor around the little girl’s chair.
“Doris won’t appreciate you using her nice embroidered towel to clean the floor,” Gwen said, sipping her coffee.
“Doris won’t mind.”
Gwen refused to debate the issue. He was probably right. Doris was yet another mindless victim of gray eyes and a reckless smile. Crissie being the other victim. Not Gwen. She reached for another roll. “There will probably be drunks and pickpockets and who knows what at the parade. I moved down here to get away from all that. You and Doris go ahead and go.” As if either one planned to ask for Gwen’s permission.
Jake gave her a long look. “Crissie, run upstairs and get ready to go to the parade.”
“She’s not—” The roll shoved in her mouth cut off her speech. Gwen yanked it out. “What was that all about?”
Jake swung shut the door between the kitchen and the rest of the house. “No point in Crissie listening to us argue.”
“I am not arguing. I am merely stating a fact.”
Jake sat, leaning against the back of his chair. “Okay,” he said in a mild voice, “let’s have it. What’s the real reason you’re trying to spoil Crissie’s fun?”
“I’m not spoiling Crissie’s fun. I’m not convinced she’d enjoy a parade.”
“Yeah, right. Most kids don’t enjoy horses and clowns,” he said sarcastically.
“She’s too young.”
The kitchen door swung open. Crissie peeked around the door. “Who’s going to dress me?”
Jake gave her an astonished look. “You said you were almost four years old. Dress yourself.”
Crissie grinned. “Okay.” The door swung shut. Then opened again. Crissie popped her head through the narrow opening. “Pardner.” Giggling, she disappeared. This time she didn’t return.
The ghost of a smile clung to Jake’s face as he turned to Gwen. “Well, Auntie Gwen? I’m waiting.”
“I told you—”
“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”
She glared at him over her coffee mug. “You should have consulted me before telling Crissie she could go to the parade.”
“It never...” He shook his head. “No, you’re not mad about that. You’re mad because I didn’t kiss you last night.”
“I am not. Of all the arrogant things to say.”
He shrugged. “Hey, I’m annoyed about that, too, but I’m not making Crissie miss the parade.”
She slammed her mug down on the table. “That has nothing to do with anything.”
He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Doesn’t it?” Before she could answer, he continued, “If it means Crissie can go to the parade, hell, even if you’d taste like pecan rolls, I don’t mind kissing you right here, right now.”
“I’d mind,” Gwen snapped.
“You wouldn’t mind.” He smiled, a sexy, overwhelmingly male smile. “I’d make sure of that.”
Gwen uncurled her toes. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Stoner. I don’t know who or what you think you are, but—”
“I’m not Mr. Stoner. I’m the guy who’s going to the county fair with my three favorite gals. Unless you’re wearing that frosting on your face, you’d better trot upstairs and get ready to go.”
Gwen opened her mouth, then slammed it shut. She had a feeling if she didn’t “trot” upstairs, she’d be standing on a street comer in Rocky Ford frosted ear to ear with creamy caramel.
Crissie would love the parade. Gwen would go for Crissie.
A clown whizzed by on a motorized scooter. Crissie shrieked with glee. �
��Look, look! Another one.”
Gwen couldn’t help smiling. In her pink-checked blouse, turquoise-flowered shorts and orange stockings, wearing her shiny white dress-up shoes, with Jake’s beat-up black cowboy hat on her head, Crissie could have passed for one of the clowns. “Thank you,” Gwen said to Jake.
He peered around Crissie’s leg. “For what? Finding this prime viewing spot?”
“For making me let Crissie come.” Gwen glanced up at Crissie sitting on Jake’s shoulders. The little girl squealed with excitement as two clowns on in-line skates zipped past. “You were right. I was being selfish, denying Crissie some fun for no good reason. I’m ashamed of myself. She’s having a wonderful time. Thank you.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Pretty and honest.”
Gwen shrugged. “Not so honest.”
Jake suddenly laughed. “As intriguing a comment as that is, I will manfully resist the temptation to poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
“That’s right. You’re a man who minds his own business, aren’t you?”
“When I can.”
“And when you can’t?”
“I do what has to be done.”
“Like hauling me to a parade?”
He gave her a slow grin. “Crissie and I wanted to come to the fair. I knew Doris would be meeting up with her friends, and I was a little nervous about bringing Crissie all by my lonesome. I don’t know much about little girls. Ouch.”
Crissie had grabbed his hair as a clown on stilts walked over to her. Jake exchanged laughing words with the clown while a wide-eyed Crissie stared at the tall, orange-haired creature. The clown extended his hand and, after a word from Jake, Crissie cautiously placed her hand in the clown’s. He solemnly shook her hand, then walked stiffly down the street.
Gwen couldn’t decide which she enjoyed more. The parade or Crissie’s face as she watched it. By the time the last band had marched by, the last horse pranced by, the last clown, the last automobile, the last motorcycle and the last tractor had passed, Crissie was bouncing up and down on Jake’s shoulders like a yo-yo, but she still had enough energy to point out the various food vendors patroling the streets.