Unaccustomed to children, Jake hesitated a moment. “All right, what’s two and three?” he asked.
“Five!”
The youngster’s enthusiastic answer coaxed a suppressed grin from Jake’s lips.
“Who’s at the door, Johnny?” a woman’s voice called from within.
“It’s that man the books are about,” Johnny hollered back.
Muffled footsteps heralded the entrance of the woman, and Jake blinked in recognition. He glanced down at Kit’s trouser-clad legs and thighs. His liquor-fogged memory hadn’t imagined her inviting curves. Raising his gaze to her heart-shaped face, he smiled and tipped his hat. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She pressed her round spectacles up on her pert nose. “Mr. Cordell. You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.” Placing her hands on Johnny’s shoulders, she pulled him out of the doorway and protectively stepped in front of him. “What are you doing here?”
“My father used to own this place.” He arched an eyebrow at her apparent unease. “What are you doing here?”
“Now I own this place,” she shot back.
Johnny tugged on her arm. “Ma, that’s Jake Cordell, the man in the books.”
She glanced down at him, and her expression softened. “I know, sweetheart.”
“Please let him come in, Ma,” he pleaded.
The boy was on his side easy enough. “I just stopped by to see who was living here now. I should probably be getting back to town before I freeze.” He added a melodramatic shiver. “I can’t hardly feel my fingers and toes already.”
After a moment, reluctant resignation stole across Kit’s rose-flushed face. “Come in and warm up, Mr. Cordell. I’ve got some coffee on the stove.”
Jake’s victory seemed hollow. He knew he’d used her kindheartedness against her. With a twinge of conscience he entered the house, and memories assailed him. He forced the visions of his autocratic father from his mind, but the restlessness remained.
She closed the door behind him, and suddenly he was unsure what to say. He fiddled with his hat brim. “Do you own this place all by yourself?”
“Yes, I do.” She took the Stetson from his hands. “Give me your coat and I’ll hang it up for you.”
She accepted his jacket without comment and then turned to her son. “Johnny, could you take him to the front room? I’ll get the coffee.”
“Okay. C’mon, Mr. Cordell.”
A slight swagger accompanied the boy’s walk down the hall, and Jake hid a smile behind his hand. Inside the room, Jake glanced around at the walls, which had been covered with tan wallpaper and adorned with woven rugs and a few pictures, mostly of horses. When he and his father had lived there, little time had been taken to decorate the interior. She, however, had given the house a woman’s touch, and warmth emanated from the home. Jake settled into a chair close to the crackling fire.
“Are you really a hero?” Johnny asked, his long-lashed eyes full of wonder.
Jake shook his head. “Nope. I just did a job that needed doing.”
Johnny settled cross-legged on a thick rug at his feet. “But you fought all kinds of bad guys and you always beat them. You must be really strong and brave to get the bad men without anyone’s help but Zeus’s.”
“I was just smarter than they were. Let me tell you a secret, kid: most bad guys aren’t very bright. If they were, they wouldn’t become outlaws, would they?”
“That’s what my ma says, but I’m not so sure. Before you caught Blackjack Banner, he played poker and won lots and lots of money. If he was dumb, he couldn’t have done that, could he?”
“That may be true, but I did catch him, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did,” Johnny exclaimed. “I guess maybe he wasn’t so smart.”
Kit entered the room and set a tray on the oak table. “Cream or sugar, Mr. Cordell?”
“Neither,” Jake replied, noting that she had removed her spectacles. Without the glasses to detract from her features, she appeared softer and more feminine. “Are all those your horses out there?”
She handed Jake a cup and nodded. “They’re the culmination of five years’ hard work.”
“I’ve never known a woman to run a horse ranch by herself.”
“Does your horse really talk to you, like it says in the books?” Johnny piped up.
Jake turned to the inquisitive boy. “Not exactly. But you could say Zeus and I understand each other.”
Johnny stood and ran to the window. “Zeus looks cold.”
“It is getting colder out there,” Kit remarked. “Johnny can take him to the barn, if you’d like.”
“He’s a pretty big horse. I doubt your son could handle him,” Jake warned.
A faint smile brushed her generous lips. “Johnny can handle horses better than most grown men.”
Jake thought for a moment, debating whether to allow the youngster near Zeus. The boy’s expectant face balanced the scales in his favor. “All right, Johnny. I suspect you and him will get along just fine.”
“Thanks, Mr. Cordell.” Johnny ran for the door.
“Don’t forget your gloves,” Kit called after him.
“I won’t.” Johnny pulled on his outer clothing, then disappeared out the door.
Jake stood and crossed the floor to the window. The hound ran over to greet the boy, startling Zeus. Johnny spoke to the mutt and the animal moved away to lie on the ground, but his soulful brown eyes followed the boy’s movements. Slowly approaching Zeus with an outstretched hand, Johnny talked to the horse. The youngster reached out and touched the palomino’s nose, then he untied the reins from the post and led him to the barn.
Jake turned back to Kit. “He does have the touch, doesn’t he?”
Pride shimmered in her eyes. “Yes, he does.”
Jake returned to his chair and Kit refilled his coffee cup.
“Would you be interested in selling?” Jake asked, without preamble.
She blinked. “The ranch?”
“Well, I don’t have much need for a kid.” Jake smiled to temper his words. “I’d like to buy back my father’s ranch and do what he planned to do.”
The color seemed to leach from her face as she shook her head. “This is our home now. I could never sell it.”
He’d suspected that would be her answer. “I’ll give you twice what you paid for it.”
Kit set her coffee cup on the end table and clasped her hands together, but not before Jake noticed their trembling. “It’s not for sale at any price.”
Jake leaned forward in his chair, intending to intimidate her by his actions as well as his tone. “It can’t be easy for you, raising a son all by yourself. Think how nice it would be to live in town and have Johnny walk to school. You’d have neighbors to help you out. And you’d make enough from selling the place that you wouldn’t have to find a job.”
Fire sparked in her eyes, and she sat up straighter. “I’ve built this ranch up from nothing. I bought the bloodlines to breed the best saddle horses possible, and I’ve done it without any man telling me what to do. I think I’ve done a damn fine job of it, too.”
Startled by her outburst, Jake leaned back. He had underestimated her. “I apologize if I insulted you. It’s just that I’ve never before met a woman who preferred ranching to an easier life in town.”
“You’ve met one now.” Quiet steel ran through her words.
Admiration for her independence rose unexpectedly in Jake, but he tamped down the emotion. If he couldn’t buy the place, he’d have to find some other way to get it. Legally. It appeared his law degree would come in handy, after all. Changing his tactics, he relaxed and smiled. “Can I ask how you ended up out here?”
Kit glanced down and her shoulders untensed. “My father left me the newspaper office when he died. I sold it and used the money for a down payment on this place.”
Jake stared at Kit, thinking back and remembering. “Your father owned the Courier?”
She nodded.<
br />
Amazed disbelief rocked Jake. “You’re little Kit Thornton?”
“That’s right, although I don’t think I was ever little.” Defensiveness crept into her voice.
Jake studied her, trying to reconcile the memory of the chubby girl with the crooked spectacles that kept slipping down her nose and the slender composed woman sitting in front of him. “You’ve changed.”
Kit laughed, the sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. “Thank you.”
Jake felt his face redden, a reaction he hadn’t experienced in years. “You’re grown up and you’ve gotten—” he searched for the right word, “—taller.”
“You’d best be careful, or you’ll swallow your boot.”
Her eyes glinted humorously, catching Jake off-guard. He studied her as if seeing her for the first time: the high cheekbones and upswept brow, the delicate jaw and slightly upturned nose. The only feature that hadn’t changed were her startling blue eyes.
“It’s been a lot of years since anyone’s called me Fatty Four-Eyes.” Despite her nonchalant tone, years-old hurt flashed in her face. “Did you ride out all this way just to see if I’d sell?” she asked.
He fingered the coffee cup’s handle. “I stopped by the cemetery first.”
“To visit your father and Maggie?” Sympathy shone in her expression.
“How’d you know about Maggie?”
Guilt flickered across her face. “She was a friend.”
Jake sensed she held something back from him. “She worked in a saloon.”
Kit’s clear gaze met his. “What’s your point, Mr. Cordell?”
Jake lifted a hand in question. “How did you meet her? Did you work with her?”
Her cheeks flamed. “I never worked with her, and she didn’t always work in a saloon.”
Jake waited, expecting her to elaborate, but Kit remained silent. “Do you know how she died?”
Kit turned to look out a window, giving Jake an unhindered view of her delicately molded profile. “She just got sick.”
“Did a doctor see her?”
“No. She didn’t want one.”
Frustration gnawed at Jake’s gut. “Someone should’ve gotten him anyhow.”
Kit brought her attention back to him. Raw grief glittered in her eyes like unshed tears. “I tried, but you knew Maggie. Do you think she’d have let a doctor examine her if I had gone against her wishes?”
Jake’s throat tightened at Kit’s anguish. It’d been a long time since he’d felt anyone’s pain so deeply. He gazed out a lace-curtained window, gathering his thoughts. “Maggie was stubborn once she set her mind to something,” he admitted. He balled his hand into a fist, realized what he’d done, and forced himself to relax. “I wish I could’ve helped her.”
Kit stared at the fire crackling in the hearth. “She cared for you more than any other man she’d known.”
“Did she die alone?” he asked quietly.
“No. I was with her at the end.”
Jake leveled his troubled gaze at Kit. “Do you think I was wrong to leave her working in the saloon?”
Her expression unreadable, she replied, “It doesn’t matter what I think.”
He shifted uncomfortably. For some reason, it did matter what she thought.
Jake blinked back memories. He didn’t want to dwell in the past any longer. “Why did you get me out of jail yesterday?”
“Maggie would’ve wanted me to.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Her fingers curled into fists in her lap, and she shook her head. “I owed you for being my friend when I needed one.”
Her poignancy tugged at Jake’s heart. “You don’t owe me anything.”
She gazed at him for a moment, then asked, “Will you be staying in Chaney, Mr. Cordell?”
He flashed her a quick smile. “Call me Jake, like you used to. I thought I’d stay for a little while and try my hand at being a lawyer.”
Surprise lit Kit’s features. “So you did get your law degree.”
Jake nodded. “I’ve never actually been in a courtroom, but with a little brushing up, I should be able to write some wills and contracts.”
“From bounty hunter hero to lawyer? That’ll be quite a change for you.” She reached for the coffeepot. “Would you like some more coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.” Jake held out his cup to be refilled. “Maybe now T. K. Thorne will leave me alone and stop writing those damn books.”
Kit jerked, spilling hot coffee over Jake’s hand.
Chapter 3
“Ow!” Jake exclaimed, coming to his feet.
Her face flaming, Kit jumped up and grabbed a napkin from the tray. She thrust the cloth at him. “Here.”
As he dabbed at the reddened skin, he managed a crooked grin. “Is this my payback for those rotten things I said to you yesterday morning?”
In spite of her embarrassment, Kit smiled slightly. “If it was, I’d have dumped the whole pot over your head.”
Jake chuckled, a full, deep sound that unexpectedly warmed Kit’s heart. It’d been a long time since she’d heard his laughter.
She lowered the pot to the tray. “I’m sorry, Jake.” Reaching for his scalded hand, she raised it to examine more closely. The angry red skin made her grimace with self-reproach. “I’ll get some butter to put on it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll survive,” Jake reassured. “At least it’s not my gunhand.”
Kit released him, her stomach clenching anxiously. Had the books placed his life in jeopardy? She knew a bounty hunter’s lot wasn’t a safe one, but she hadn’t even considered that the dime novels could further endanger Jake. “I thought you’d like the books, since they showed all the good you did.”
He snorted. “Hardly. Besides, nobody but a saint could live up to that Jake Cordell.” He lowered himself back into his chair and rested an ankle on his knee. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem.”
Johnny burst in, slamming the door behind him.
Grateful for the interruption, Kit reminded her son with practiced patience, “Don’t forget to hang up your jacket.”
Johnny did as she said and ran into the room to lay an arm across Jake’s shoulders. “Zeus and Cassie got along real good, just like best friends. Cassie was whispering something in Zeus’s ear when I left.”
“Who’s Cassie?” Jake asked.
“Ma’s horse. She’s smaller than Zeus, but she’s just as smart,” Johnny said.
Jake gazed at Kit, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sure she is.”
“You wanna go upstairs and see my horse collection? I got lots and lots of horses—all different colors and sizes.”
“Sure, if it’s all right with your mother,” Jake replied.
“Please, Ma?” Johnny begged.
Kit looked from one expectant face to the other and found she couldn’t deny either one. “All right.”
Johnny clasped Jake’s hand and led him up the steps.
For a long moment, Kit remained rooted in place. Seeing the two of them together had brought a myriad of emotions scurrying for attention, anxiety the most prevalent.
Did Jake recognize his own son—the mirroring brown eyes and crooked grin? Allowing them to spend time together could end in disaster, but Kit didn’t have the fortitude to forbid it. She hadn’t agreed with Maggie’s edict to keep Johnny’s birth from his father, yet Kit knew she could lose her son if Jake learned the truth—and it was for that reason that she remained silent.
Sighing heavily, Kit stood and carried the coffee tray into the kitchen.
Footsteps on the stairs fifteen minutes later prompted Kit to meet Johnny and Jake at the bottom of the staircase. She slipped on her spectacles, feeling a familiar security behind the lenses. “Did you show Mr. Cordell your horses?”
“Yep, and he liked them—didn’t you, Mr. Cordell?” Johnny asked.
“I sure did, especially the stud horse called Satan.” Jake’s dark eyes danced with merrime
nt.
Jake Cordell had an uncanny ability to communicate with his famed palomino, Zeus. The prized animal had been given to Jake by a rich Spaniard in appreciation for a job Jake had done for the man. Named after the Greek god, Zeus had lived up to his name with his courage and cunning, as well as his proclivity toward the mares.
Embarrassed warmth spread across Kit’s cheeks. “Well, I see you got a thorough description of each one.”
“If the real Satan is anything like Johnny’s Satan, he must be quite a horse.”
“My hired man, Charlie, taught me how to recognize good bloodlines. Satan’s the reason my colts and fillies get top dollar,” she replied.
“I wouldn’t mind a tour of the place sometime when the weather cooperates.”
“Like the tour I gave you years ago?”
Jake laughed. “I’d forgotten about that.” He looked down at Johnny. “Did your ma ever tell you about the time her pet chipmunk attacked me?”
Johnny’s eyes saucered. “Uh-uh.”
“I came over one day to bring her a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest,” Jake began. “Since I was there, I asked her if I could see the other animals she was taking care of. While I was leaning over one of the cages, this chipmunk jumps onto my back and starts making the most godawful noises I’d ever heard.”
“That wasn’t the chipmunk making those horrible noises; that was you,” Kit corrected with a grin. “I never did figure out who was more scared, you or Chippy.”
Johnny howled with laughter. “You were scared of a little chipmunk?”
A sheepish grin slid across Jake’s face. “It didn’t seem so little at the time.”
Kit recalled that day with sparkling clarity. A week after Jake had rescued her from Will Jameson and his fellow tormentors, he had brought the baby robin to her. The bird had seemed very tiny and fragile in Jake’s cupped palms. She’d given the young creature extra care, and a month later she and Jake had set it free.
She glanced down at Jake’s hands, which hung loosely at his sides. Remembering how they had tenderly cradled the baby bird, Kit wondered if he still possessed such a gentle touch—or if his years as a bounty hunter had changed that, too.
Maureen McKade Page 4