by Beverly Long
“Okay. Well, somehow the horses had come unhitched because I probably didn’t have them hitched up right to begin with and suddenly, they were nowhere to be found.”
“Sunshine must have wondered back. She’s safe and sound back at Freida’s.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. I was worried about her. Anyway, when I couldn’t find either horse, I figured my best bet was to try to dig myself into the snow, to try to stay as warm as I could. I remembered that Freida had taken a rolling pin from the store—she’d said she needed it to bake a pie for Thomas. By some crazy luck, the rolling pin was still there, lodged under the seat. Once I found it, I started banging on the wagon. I didn’t know how far I was from the road and I figured it was a long shot that anyone might be going by, but I couldn’t just do nothing.”
He sat up suddenly again and leaned over her. “You saved you own life,” he said.
She felt warmth spread through her. At one point, she had been sure that she was going to die. When she’d been so tired of digging snow that her arms would barely move and she’d been sick to her stomach with fear, dying hadn’t seemed like such a horrible alternative. She’d been tired and wet and scared and she’d wanted it all to go away. Then, she thought about all the people that were counting on her—Freida, Averil, her father—and she’d known that she needed to fight with every bit of strength she had.
“I’m proud of you,” he said.
He had no way of knowing that was the nicest thing he could have said. “Thank you,” she whispered. She felt vulnerable, as if she was standing at the edge of a very steep cliff and a force was pushing her over the side.
She did what she’d been doing for years when anybody got too close. She redirected.
She let her eyes deliberately stray and linger on his small, flat nipples. Then travel down his belly and settled on his half-hard penis.
He lightly gripped her chin and forced her to look straight into his eyes. “Don’t try to distract me, Bella. You were damn lucky,” he said. “If Rain hadn’t come to town, I’d have never known to look for you.”
“I’m glad you did,” she said. “I’m glad about everything that’s happened tonight.” It was the closest she could come to laying her cards on the table.
“Me too,” he said. He stroked her arm. “Are you too tired?” he asked.
“For?” she asked, suddenly feeling the need to tease this man who was serious too much of the time.
He chuckled. “Checkers. What did you think I was interested in?”
It was her turn to sit up suddenly. Her full breasts swayed and she heard his hiss of breath. It delighted her. “I’m not interested in Checkers,” she said.
“I reckon I could be convinced to try something else,” he said.
“I know a game you might like.” She pushed gently against his chest. “Lie back.”
He’d stretched his big body flat on the bed and she knelt next to him. Then she lowered her head and took him in her mouth.
“Oh, Christ,” he said. “I love this game.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
She woke up when she smelled fresh coffee. Jed was dressed and standing near the fireplace. “Good morning,” she said.
“Morning. It’s early but I suspect Freida will be worried.”
She stretched her arms over her head. “I can’t move,” she moaned.
His head jerked up. “Was I too rough?” he asked.
She smiled. “The first time? The second? Or the third time?”
He didn’t answer at first. When he did, it was as if he’d thrown a bucket of cold water on her. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Okay, so breakfast banter wasn’t his thing. “I know that Jed. Maybe that’s what makes it even better.”
He turned and poked at the fire. She waited for him to turn around again but he didn’t.
“Jed?”
“You better get dressed. I’m going to go get the wagon ready.” He threw down the poker, grabbed his coat and hat, and was out the door before she could move.
Perhaps the sheriff needed more coffee. She stood up and reached for her scattered clothing. The movement made her leg and arm muscles scream in protest. She might not have a head injury but she could definitely tell she’d been tossed out of a wagon. Moving more cautiously, she pulled on her underwear and her dress. She was just putting on her socks and shoes when the door opened.
“Ready?” he asked.
He didn’t look any happier than when he left so she decided to forego conversation. Instead, she nodded. She gathered up Freida’s extra sweater and wadded it up into a ball. She suddenly felt emotional, as if tears were lurking
That scared her. She was twenty-five years old and she’d never cried over a man. She’d yelled and bitched and carried on at length but she’d never cried.
On the drive back to Aunt Freida’s house, Jed continued the silent treatment. It drove her crazy. After all, less than an hour ago, he’d been teasing her and then literally screaming her name as he’d come inside of her.
“Are we going to talk about this?” she asked finally.
He made a sound she thought was a no.
The back of her neck started to heat up. She kept her mouth shut because she was afraid of what might come out if she opened it.
He turned into Aunt Freida’s lane and pulled the horses up sharply. At that moment, Bella saw that the barn door was open and there was an extra wagon and horse inside. There were also two horses tied to the rail just outside of Aunt Freida’s house.
“Your sister is here,” she said.
He nodded, looking grim. “And Earl and Thomas Bean,” he said.
“I’m sure they were concerned.”
He studied her. “They may have some questions about where you spent last night.”
Okay. “It could be a little awkward, I suppose.”
He studied her. “I think it would be best if we didn’t give them any reason to speculate.”
“I don’t care what they think,” she assured him.
“There’s no need to be carrying on about it,” he said. “Best to keep it to ourselves.”
“I’m not ashamed of what…” She stopped. Suddenly it dawned on her that perhaps she was speaking strictly for herself when she said that there was no need for shame. Jed was doing a very fine imitation of a man who had a big secret and he wanted to keep it that way.
She wouldn’t have been exactly thrilled if he’d been the kind of guy in her time that had gone to the gym and over a set of free weights had bragged to his buddies about doing the girl, but this was the other extreme. Of all the nerve. She threw off the blankets that he’d wrapped around her legs and stood up. “Relax. I don’t generally kiss and tell,” she said.
He reached out a hand and grabbed her arm. “As I recall,” he said, “we did a lot more than kiss,” he said, his tone angry.
She’d hurt his pride. Well, good. He’d kicked her in the stomach. It felt as if she couldn’t breathe. “It’s a freakin’ expression. I don’t talk about men that I’ve screwed.”
“What?” Now he sounded like the one who’d taken a sucker punch.
Damn. Screwing was no doubt slang from the twenty-first century. She thought about making up some crazy explanation about how they talked in Ohio but stopped before she dug herself so deep that she’d never breathe fresh air again.
“Never mind,” she snapped. “I’m going inside.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said.
“There’s no need. I mean, really. Leave now. No one will ever know you were even here. I’ll tell them I spent the night with a group of apes.”
He didn’t answer. He clicked his tongue and the horses moved. When they stopped in front of Aunt Freida’s cabin, he jumped off and turned to hold out a hand to help her. She ignored it and made a similar jump. She hit the ground so hard that it felt as if her teeth were jarred loose. It made her madder at him because now he was making her do stupid things.
When she
opened the door, Bella was relieved to see her aunt sitting up in bed. She was still pale and her eyes had dark circles under them, but when she gave Bella a big smile, the tears that Bella had held back earlier would not be denied.
She wiped the back of her hand across her cheek and ignored the rest of the people in the room. She looked only at her aunt. She sure as hell didn’t want Jedidiah McNeil thinking she was crying for him.
“Now, now. Looks like the two of us caused some commotion last night,” Aunt Freida said. She patted the bed next to her and Bella sat down. “I’m sure sorry, honey, that you had to endure that. You must have been very frightened out there on your own.”
Aunt Freida looked up. “Thank you, Jedidiah,” she said. “I was scared silly when I heard that Bella had gone for help. But when I knew you had her, I knew she was safe.”
“I’m happy I could help,” he said.
Two hours ago he’d been happy that she’d had his cock in her mouth.
Aunt Freida rubbed Bella’s hand. “You must have thought he was some kind of angel.”
Before or after I got naked with him? Bella stood up. She was just going to get herself into trouble. “I’m going to change clothes and then go to the store.”
Aunt Freida shook her head. “There’s no need for that. We just won’t open today.”
“And give Saul the advantage?” Bella forced a smile. “I don’t think so.”
“Your wagon needs a little repair,” Thomas Bean said.
Bella turned to look at him and made the mistake of looking across the room. Elizabeth was staring at her, her eyes full of speculation.
“I can take care of it but it could take most of the morning,” Thomas offered.
She needed to get away now. She smiled at String. “Would you mind giving me a ride into town?”
She heard a sharp click and she thought it might be Jed’s teeth clamping together. Good. She focused on String. The man’s nose had turned bright red.
“It would be my pleasure,” he said.
“Great. It’ll just take me a minute to get ready.”
***
She’d been at the store for less than fifteen minutes when Jed walked through the front door. He strode toward her, like a man on a mission.
“You shouldn’t encourage Earl Bean,” he said.
She looked back down at the receipts she was sorting.
He stuck his big hand out and let it hover three inches over them, effectively blocking her view of the papers. With one swift motion, she swept the pile six inches to the right. His hand followed. She did it again.
They were being ridiculous.
She looked up. “I would think you’d be happy,” she said. “If people see me with Earl, I doubt they’ll make a connection between you and me.”
“Earl Bean doesn’t have good sense when it comes to women.”
On the ride to town, String had described, in excruciating detail, how one went about butchering a hog. It had started with his recommendation that she might put some lard on her cheeks to get rid of the redness and it had gone downhill from there. But she wasn’t about to admit that to Jedidiah McNeil.
“I don’t think that it’s any of your business.” She tossed her hair. She’d seen someone do that in a movie, maybe Jennifer Aniston, and the message—I’m just not that into you—had been clear.
It was too bad that motion pictures hadn’t been invented yet because he clearly didn’t get it. He simply shrugged and walked over to the stove. He kicked the small pile of wood next to it. “This won’t last much more than a day or two.”
He was driving her crazy. “Jed. Go home. It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you did for me. I do. And the sex was great.”
He jerked back and looked over both shoulders, like some customer might have suddenly materialized from the canned goods section, just in time to hear about Jedidiah McNeil’s impropriety.
“I think things are different in Ohio,” he said.
“They are,” she assured him. She was so tired. He needed to leave and she needed to figure out some way to just get through the day. “Goodbye, Jed.”
He chewed his bottom lip. “I’ll bring some wood by later,” he said.
“No. I’m sure Freida has wood at home that I can bring in tomorrow.”
“Yes, well, if I bring it to you, then you don’t have to worry about it, do you?”
He must want her to jump over the counter and start clawing and scratching at exposed parts. They’d been as close as two people could be, then he’d practically begged her to look the other direction if they happened to pass on the street, and now he was taking care of her.
“Fine. Bring me wood. Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”
He stared at her. The only sound in the room was the snap and crackle of wood and paper burning in the stove.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. He looked at the floor.
She didn’t want an apology. She wasn’t sure what she wanted.
He raised his eyes and looked at her. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”
He had hurt her. But she needed to stay true to her hair-tossing alter ego. “Jed, I’m leaving in just a few days. It really doesn’t matter.”
His head jerked up and she could see the flare of anger in his eyes. “My mistake then, Ma’am. I won’t make it again.”
***
Jed jerked open his desk drawer with such force that the whole damn drawer came out. It dropped to the floor with a dull thud and papers inside flew onto the floor. The only thing that stayed secure inside was the damn music box that he’d bought from Saul.
He got out of his chair and knelt down next to the drawer. He’d intended to give the music box to his sister. But instead, he’d brought it here and hid it in the drawer. Several times a day he’d lift up the papers and look at the trinket. Every time he did, he remembered the look in Bella’s eyes when she’d heard the tune. Vulnerable. Innocent.
She was definitely no innocent. She’d come to his bed willingly—hell, she’d practically dragged him into it. And once there, she’d enjoyed herself. A man could tell. It had been a pleasure to take a woman to his bed that didn’t feel it was necessary to pretend to be shocked, even if she wasn’t, by what went on between a man and a woman.
He couldn’t dismiss her being vulnerable as easily. He’d hurt her with his insistence that it was necessary to keep quiet about what had happened between them. But she just didn’t understand. It would start with one person and by the time the story was told by the twentieth person, there would be barely a hint of truth to it.
People were vicious in their discussions about others. They said hurtful, horrible things that could ruin a person’s life.
The door to the sheriff’s office opened and a blast of cold air came in. Bart stood in the doorway. Jed moved quickly to pick up the papers and lay them on top of the music box.
“What are you doing?” Bart asked.
“Drawer fell out,” Jed mumbled. “Could you shut the damn door,” he added.
Bart did as instructed. He made a big production out of stomping the snow off his boots. Then he took off his coat and hat and hung them on his hook. By the time he’d finished, Jed had managed to put the drawer back into the desk. He locked it and slipped the key into his pocket.
Bart took the chair next to Jed’s desk. He scratched what appeared to be a freshly-shaved chin. “Something wrong, Jedidiah?” he asked.
Everything. “No.” He picked up the weekly newspaper, hoping that Bart would get the hint.
Bart, who at times could be as dense as a rock, pulled the paper out of Jed’s grasp, folded it, and tossed it on the floor.
“What the hell?” Jed asked. He scooted his chair back, leaned to the side, and reached for it.
Bart stuck his leg out and pushed the paper farther away.
“Bart,” Jed said, his jaw feeling tight. He sat up straight in his chair. “What is your damn problem?”
“I don
’t have a problem,” Bart said. He kept his legs stretched out, laced his hands behind his head, and slumped in his chair, acting truly like a man who didn’t have a care in the world. “I’m just confused,” he went on. “How can a man who spent a night with Bella Wainwright in his arms look so damn unhappy the next morning?”
“Shush,” Jed said, looking up at the door.
Bart shrugged. “I don’t need to shush. There ain’t nobody standing outside with their ear pressed against the door and there ain’t nobody inside but us. I saw you, Jedidiah. I saw the worry on your face when you thought the worst had happened.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Hell, Bart. I’d be worried about you if you were lost in a snowstorm.”
Bart smiled. “Maybe. But once you’d have found me, you’d have taken me home. You wouldn’t have stood watch over me.”
Jed rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the ache that started in his chest. If only he’d have been smart enough to simply stand watch. But no, he’d kissed her and touched her and then he’d been a lost man. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.
Bart smiled and looked satisfied. “You don’t seem to be denying that you spent the night with Bella in your arms.”
Jed closed his tired eyes. “I made a mistake, Bart,” he said.
Bart didn’t respond. Jed opened his eyes. “Surely you’ve got something clever to say about that?” he added.
Bart tucked his legs back under his chair and sat up straight. “Jedidiah, while you’re not a man to boast about things of this nature, I’m fairly certain that you’ve taken your share of women to your bed. Why is this one such a mistake? After all, she’s a widow, not some innocent.”
She might not have been an innocent but she’d been fresh and honest in her responses and it had excited him in such a manner that it would have been easy to pretend that it had been the first time for both of them. “She’s angry with me,” Jed said.
Bart stood up and frowned. “Jesus, Jedidiah. You didn’t force her, did you?”
“Of course not.” If there was anything he was sure about it was that she’d been every bit as eager and needy as he’d been. “She’s angry about what happened this morning.”