But he couldn't bring himself to go over there now and also upset Teddy. He needed a woman with him — someone sensitive to Sunny's needs when she read the telegram. He'd sure lacked whatever it was Sunny needed yesterday, though he'd wanted to comfort her with everything in him. He'd thought time would help, but there wasn't any time left now to make this situation any easier.
Several horses stood at the hitching rail in front of the general store, as well as a wagon being loaded with supplies. Ruth would be busy inside. He headed back across the street again, toward Ginny's. Striding through the batwings, he checked around for Ginny, spying her talking to Perry at the far end of the bar. The saloon was already busy with the start of the usual Friday evening crowd, and he weaved through the tables. Ginny took one look at his face and motioned him to follow her into her office. She closed the door behind them.
"What is it?" she asked.
Jake pulled the telegram from his pocket and handed it to her. She scanned the words, then leaned back against her desk, tears filling her green eyes. "Oh, God. She's going to be devastated."
Jake sat on the couch, propping his elbows on his knees with his head hanging down. Ginny's tears had brought a huge lump to his throat and he couldn't speak. Sitting beside him, Ginny placed an arm around his shoulders and took off his hat to toss it on her desk.
She ran her fingers through his hair. "She'll understand it's not your fault. Sunny's not stupid."
He shook his head. "I couldn't have done anything different," he said in a choked voice. "Hell, it was my job."
Cupping his chin, Ginny forced him to face her. "You listen here, Jake Cameron. You're a good man and a hell of a good Ranger. Even if she doesn't understand at first, she will when she has time to think about it."
She dropped her hand, wiping at a spot of moisture on her dress skirt. Jake reached for his handkerchief, but when he handed it to Ginny, he saw he'd pulled out the pretty hanky with the blue roses he'd bought at the social. The sight of it, creased from carrying it in his pocket with him every day, choked him up more.
Ginny nudged him in the side. "Better not blow your nose on something like that when you're sitting in the saloon drinking beer," she said, but her voice broke on her teasing gibe.
He heaved a sigh and squeezed the hanky in his fist, laying his head back against the couch. "Will you go with me to tell her, Ginny? Please."
"Of course, Jake. But we should wait until Teddy's in bed. Sunny will want to tell Teddy herself, in her own way."
"Yeah, that's what I thought, too." He straightened, shoving the hanky back into his pocket. "You got a drink in here?"
"Sure." Ginny rose and went behind her desk. Opening the door on a cabinet, she took out a bottle of bourbon and a glass, which she poured half full. "Ice?" she asked Jake.
"No, thanks."
She walked over and handed him the glass, and he took a long swallow. The bourbon burned all the way to his stomach, but the heat mocked the emptiness there instead of soothing it. Ginny set the bottle on the table.
"I'll take that with me to Sunny's after while," she said. "She might need a drink, although I've never seen her taste liquor before. But I've got another bottle in the cabinet if you want another drink."
"No." Jake rose and set the glass, which still had a measure of bourbon in it, on her desk. "The town's gonna be busy tonight, and I need to make sure Dougherty can fill in for me while I go over to Sunny's. By the way, I sent off a wire to Cade Hunter this morning, telling him the sheriff's job here is open. Cade might not be interested in it himself but he knows a couple other Rangers who have been talking about getting a job where they can stay in one place. I was thinking of asking Cade, anyway, if he was interested in going into the horse raising business with me, but that probably won't work out now."
"The Town Council will be glad to know they might be getting some applicants for the job," Ginny said. "I wish Sunny had come to the meeting last night. She'd be proud of what we've accomplished. And Charlie wasn't there, either, although you said you were sure he'd be willing to pay his share of the assessment for a sheriff's wages."
"Well," Jake said with a shrug. "I guess in all the commotion over Teddy getting hurt, we forgot to tell Charlie about the meeting. And I suppose Sunny wanted to stay with Teddy."
"Doc said it was just a sprain," Ginny commented. "But I can understand Sunny wanting to keep an eye on Teddy. What did you mean about it not working out for your friend Cade to help you raise horses now, Jake?"
Jake grimaced, sorry he had let that part slip while he'd been trying to change the focus of their conversation away from his apprehension over Sunny's reaction when he and Ginny brought her the news in the telegram. Ginny would keep after him, too, until she got an answer.
"I just meant...well, the land I looked at might not be right for raising horses," he said evasively. "Hell, I don't want to buy the first place I look at. If it's where I'm gonna settle down and live the rest of my life, it needs to be the right place."
"Oh, Jake, my friend." Ginny took his hands, squeezing his fingers. "You asked her to marry you and she turned you down?"
A corner of his mouth turned up in a wry grin. "Yeah, she turned me down, Ginny. And after this evening, she'll never want to even see me again." Pulling his hands free, he picked up his hat, shoved his hair into place and settled it on his head. "Teddy goes to bed at eight. I'll be by here a little after that to walk with you over to Sunny's."
"I'll be waiting for you," Ginny said.
Teddy finally closed her eyes and fell asleep, and Sunny rose to place the storybook on the shelf. Today she had realized how mothers with petulant children came close to losing their tempers with their little darlings. At first she'd blamed Teddy's truculence on her injuries, but she also knew her impatience with Teddy stemmed from her own roiling emotions. She hadn't slept until close to dawn, and then woke an hour later.
Her eyes were gritty with lack of sleep, and Teddy had wanted to have a "girl talk" instead of a story tonight. Although she had promised they would talk in the morning, refusing the child made her feel guilty. She pulled Teddy's bedroom door almost closed, sighing in relief as she thought of her waiting bed. Tonight she would surely sleep, and maybe tomorrow she would be rested enough to tell Cassie she had decided to return to St. Louis without breaking down in tears.
A knock sounded on the front door, and Sunny clenched her teeth. Who on earth could be calling this late in the evening? And did she even care? If she refused to answer, surely they would leave. There wasn't one person in town she wanted to talk to right now.
Except Jake. "Liar," Sunny told her mind aloud. Liar, her mind told her in return. "I'm not going to marry him," she whispered. You still love him, her heart replied. "I always will," she whispered broken-heartedly. Stupid, her mind said. He loves you, too. He told you he did.
"Shut up," Sunny whispered angrily. "He wouldn't want a bastard for a wife." He asked you to marry him after he knew you were a bastard, her mind said. And he said he loved you after he already knew that, too, her heart added.
"It was just pity," she insisted. Bull shit, her mind said. So stupid to walk away from all that love, her heart put in.
"Sunny?" a quiet voice called. "Sunny, we're sorry it's so late, but we really need to talk to you."
We, her mind repeated. The voice was Ginny's. Could Jake be with her? She could no more ignore the possibility than she could win the argument against both her heart and mind. If it wasn't Jake with Ginny, she would beg her friend to watch Teddy while she went to find him. Told him how much she loved him.
She hurried down the hallway to the front door, finding Ginny and Jake already waiting inside for her. "H...hello," she stammered, her gaze locked on Jake's solemn face. "I'm still up. I...was just going to have a cup of tea. Would you both like some? Or some coffee?"
Ginny took her arm and steered her into the parlor. "No, Sunny. We need to talk to you. Please sit down."
Sunny sank to the set
tee, watching Ginny set a basket on the corner table. Her eyes went back to Jake, but he walked over to the front window and stared through the curtains. She couldn't blame him. She'd been such a bitch toward him yesterday, when he'd only wanted to comfort her. The same afternoon he'd asked her to marry him.
"Jake?" she croaked.
He turned, then walked over and sat in the end chair. "How are you this evening, Sunny?" he asked.
"Better," she told him in a firm voice. "I'm much better." Ginny handed her a glass of brown liquid and she wrinkled her nose, trying to hand the glass back to Ginny. "I don't drink whiskey," she said.
"You might tonight, Sunny, dear." Ginny offered Jake a glass but he shook his head, and she sat down beside Sunny with the glass still in her own hands.
Fear crawled up Sunny's spine, and her heart began pounding. "What's wrong?" she asked. "I want to know right now!"
Jake dropped his head for a moment, then reached into his pocket and handed her a crumpled yellow piece of paper. Heart thundering until she thought it would leap from her chest, Sunny cautiously took the telegram. The words blurred before her eyes, but she blinked, then tried again.
TO: JAKE CAMERON, TEXAS RANGERS, LIBERTY FLATS, TEXAS. STOP. REFERENCE YOUR INQUIRY ABOUT LIVING RELATIVES FOR THEODORA TOMPKINS. STOP. JOCELYN TOMPKINS MOTHER OF CHILD. STOP. WILL ARRIVE LIBERTY FLATS TOMORROW, SATURDAY. STOP. PLEASE DIRECT QUESTIONS OF DETAILS TO MOTHER. STOP. EDWARD SMITH, ATTORNEY AT LAW, KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI. STOP.
"No. Oh my God! No!" She stared at Jake, feeling as though yesterday had been only the beginning of a spreading darkness in her world. "Please," she begged him. "When she gets here, tell her...tell her you were wrong. That it wasn't her daughter! Tell her it wasn't Teddy. I can't lose her!"
"If that's what you want," Jake said. "If that's what you want me to do, I'll do it. We can go to Mexico and live. We can...."
"Stop it, both of you!" Ginny said sternly. "Listen to yourselves. You've got no right to make that sort of decision."
Sunny whirled on her. "I've got every right! I love Teddy and her mother walked out on her. I'll never leave her like that!"
Ginny shook her head. Setting her glass on the floor beside the settee, she took a deep breath. "And what about Teddy's rights, Sunny? What if she wants to know about her mother some day? Will you deny her that knowledge? Will you lie to her and tell her that her mother's dead? Do you have that right, just because you love her?"
Angry tears coursed down Sunny's cheeks, and she stared at the parlor window, avoiding meeting Jake's troubled gaze. Through the sheer curtains, the black night beyond made a background to reflect the scene inside the parlor. Her on the settee beside Ginny — Jake in the end chair. Wall sconces burning, which had confirmed to Jake and Ginny when they came to the house that she was still awake. But at least she'd learned of the pending disaster in time to do something about it.
"You're right," she told Ginny, keeping her voice steady with a great effort while her mind raced. "I'll tell Teddy in the morning." She rose, realizing she was still clasping the glass of whiskey in her hand. She handed it to Ginny. "You can take this with you. I'll be fine."
"I'm not going anywhere." Ginny set the glass beside hers on the floor and leaned back on the settee, crossing her arms. "Since this is Friday night and there's two saloons full of cowboys who could start feeling their oats after a few drinks, Jake has to get back into town. But I'm staying right here."
"I'd rather be alone, Ginny," Sunny said.
"No, you wouldn't," Ginny denied. "You just think you would."
Jake stood and came over to her. "Walk with me onto the porch. Please, Sunny."
Her thoughts continuing to speed in contradiction to her outward calm, Sunny turned and led him onto the porch. Outside he reached for her, and she stepped willingly into his embrace. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she met his lips, kissing him with unrestrained fervor — kissing him as though this would be the last kiss she would ever be able to bestow on the man she loved. She welcomed his tongue in her mouth — his hard body against hers
— even the evidence of his need for her against her soft stomach.
When he growled low and buried his face on her shoulder, she stroked his ebony hair and said, "Tell Ginny to leave, Jake. Stay with me tonight. Make love to me."
Jake lifted his head quickly, as though shocked by her words. "No," he said, cupping her face in his palms. "I love you, Sunny, and I want you so damned bad I could lay you down right here on the porch and take you. But that wouldn't be making love, and it will either be making love with you or nothing at all. It will either be having you as my wife or spending my life alone."
He kissed her again, an urgent kiss, which claimed her for his own at the same time it left her wanting more. "I know it won't make up for Teddy, darling," he said after a moment, "but we'll have our own children. Still, if you want me to, my offer stands. We can leave here now. Take Teddy with us."
She gave him a sad smile. "And then what? Always be looking over our shoulder to see if someone has found us? Never being able to give our own children a decent life, if we had to keep moving? No, Jake. As much as I love Teddy, I can't do that to us."
"Repeat that part," Jake urged. "The part about there being an us." He lowered his voice. "You've never said you loved me."
She wrapped her arms around his neck again and pulled his head down for a fulfilling kiss. The sound of a gunshot down the street broke them apart.
"Goddamn it," Jake snarled.
She laughed quietly and stepped back. "You better go. John Dougherty's not as good at keeping order as you are."
Another gunshot sounded, and Jake jumped from the porch. Halfway to the gate, he turned. "I'll see you in the morning. Night, darlin'."
"Night, darlin'," she called back, blowing him a kiss. He broke into a run, and she called quietly, "Goodbye, Jake. I love you."
She walked back into the parlor, cocked an eyebrow at Ginny and said, "Where's my glass of whiskey?"
Ginny handed her the full glass and picked up the bottle from the end table to refill her own. Replacing the bottle in the basket, she tilted her glass at Sunny. "Cheers."
"Cheers," Sunny replied. Her eyes burned with the fumes, but she managed to take a sip of whiskey. Then she began to wander around the room, keeping her glass out of Ginny's sight as she pretended to drink from it. "I'm really glad you stayed, Ginny," she lied. "I'm sorry I asked you to leave. You've been an awfully good friend to me."
She tipped a measure of whiskey into the log basket beside the fireplace as Ginny said, "I care a lot about you, Sunny. I'm so sorry this has happened. Listen, I know a good lawyer over in Abilene. If I sent him a telegram tomorrow morning, he could be here by Sunday."
Sunny shrugged, then swallowed the last little bit of whiskey in her glass as she turned toward Ginny. "Sunday might be too late, but I'd still appreciate you contacting him for me. Can I have another drink?"
"Sure." Ginny finished the inch or so in her own glass, then picked up the bottle. She poured her glass half full, then concentrated on Sunny's. When Ginny started to pull the bottle back, Sunny placed her hand over hers and held the bottle until the glass almost overflowed.
"Cheers," she said, lifting her glass for a sip. Ginny took a gulp from her own glass, and Sunny turned, roaming the room again. Behind her, she heard Ginny stifle a hiccup.
"Aunt Cassie's going to be really upset," Sunny mused. "I never would have thought it, but she's changed. She loves Teddy. She felt so guilty when Teddy fell off her pony yesterday." With her back to Ginny, she cautiously poured fully two thirds of her whiskey into a plant Cassie had sitting by the front parlor window, then lifted her arm as though taking a long drink. But she kept her mouth closed, so the whiskey only floated against her lips.
"Yeah." Ginny hiccuped again. "S'ya know, ole Cassie ain't bad. I shorta like her."
Sunny turned and walked back toward Ginny. "She likes you, too, Ginny. She doesn't give her cookie recipes
to just anyone."
"Good cookies, too," Ginny said, tipping her glass and taking another swig. A drop escaped her lips, and she wiped at it with her hand. "Whoops," she said with a giggle.
"You know what?" Sunny asked. "I'll bet this whiskey would be good mixed with your lemonade, Ginny. There's still a couple glasses of it left in the pitcher in the kitchen. Let me go fix us each a glass."
"Shounds good to me," Ginny said, handing Sunny her glass, then the bottle from the basket on the table. "But that'sh bourbon, not whiskey. Exchellent bourbon."
"Bourbon," Sunny repeated. "Got it."
She carried the bottle and glasses into the kitchen, then mixed a touch of bourbon in one glass, a touch of lemonade in the other one. When Ginny tasted her glass a moment later, she waved it at Sunny in praise. "Good drinksh. Have ta tell Perry 'bout thesh." Then she laid back against the settee. "Geesh. I'm shorta dizzy."
Sunny rushed forward and caught the glass before it dropped from Ginny's fingers. She set both glasses on the end table, then lifted Ginny's legs onto the settee. Shaking her head at her friend in mute apology, she left the parlor and went first to her bedroom. She grabbed two carpetbags from the closet, stuffed a few things of her own in one, then carried the other one to Teddy's bedroom.
Hurry, hurry, she kept telling herself. She opened Teddy's dresser drawers and shoved some underthings into the bag. Quietly, she opened the armoire and added some dresses to the bag. Setting the bag at the foot of the bed, she hurried from the bedroom and left the house.
She calmed herself on her walk to the stable. John Dougherty was in town helping Jake keep order, but when she rounded the side of the building, she could see a lantern burning in the stable. The old lounger from the stage depot, Pete, snored in a chair, his feet propped on a bale of hay. She studied the situation for a moment, then decided she had no choice but to wake the man. She needed his help to both hitch up a buggy and give her directions.
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