Jake wanted to believe her, but he knew from experience she was wrong. “Tell my mother that.”
“At least you had your father.”
“The town had my father.”
She pursed her lips like a tart-tongued spinster.
“I’m not like you, Kit,” Jake said. “I can’t forgive and forget.”
“I’m not asking you to. That’s something you’ll have to decide to do for yourself,” she said softly.
How could a woman her age be so naive? Didn’t she realize there were some things a person couldn’t forget? Or forgive? He thought of the loan papers hidden in his room at Freda’s. She wouldn’t be so understanding when he took her beloved ranch; she wouldn’t be able to forgive and forget.
Jake smothered the unwanted guilt. “Didn’t you know? I’m a selfish bastard.”
She laughed. “You don’t have to try and convince me. I already know what you are.”
So she already thought he was a bastard? Hadn’t he wanted her to see him without the damned blinders? However, it didn’t mollify Jake like it should’ve, and sarcasm oozed from his tone. “Thanks.”
“What I meant was, I know you’re not that kind of person, so there’s no reason to berate yourself.”
“How about when I was drunk? I was a bastard then.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true enough. And don’t forget—when you met Freda the first time, you weren’t a gentleman then, either.”
Bewildered, Jake raked his fingers through his hair. “It sure didn’t take much to convince you.”
She leaned forward. “Look, Jake, you’re not the same man who rode into Chaney a month ago. I think you might finally be figuring out you’re not as bad as you thought you were.”
“Damn it, Kit, do you always have to see the best in people?”
“Yes.”
Her direct answer and unflinching gaze melted a corner of Jake’s heart. She laid a hand on his knee, and her touch sent a jolt of heated pleasure up his leg to settle in his groin.
“Johnny, come get Salty and put him in with Pepper,” Kit said.
Johnny deposited the protesting kitten in the cage and played with the animals through the chicken wire.
Jake stood and held out his hand to Kit. Tentatively, she reached out, placing her cool fingers in his palm, and he grasped them snugly to pull her to her feet.
“You’d better be careful, Jake; someone might think you are a gentleman,” Kit teased.
He studied her flushed expression, the sparkling blue eyes behind her spectacles. She trusted him. He could see it in her candid expression. Unexpected resentment welled within him. “You don’t know me any better than T. K. Thorne.”
She drew out of his grasp and met his gaze evenly. “Because I see the good in you?”
“Because you won’t see me for who I really am,” he refuted. “T. K. Thorne built the reputation of Jake Cordell. It’s his fault I keep looking over my shoulder, and it’s his fault people think I’m a damned hero.”
Kit’s face drained of color. “I’m sure he never meant to hurt you, Jake. He wrote them as a tribute to you, to show everyone your bravery as you fought to bring justice to the lawless frontier.”
“How would you know why he wrote them?” He shook his head. “He did it for the same reason people rob banks: to get rich at the expense of another person.”
“That’s not true. He did it because he admired you.”
Jake grabbed her upper arms. “Damn it, Kit, open your eyes.” He glanced down at her full lips. “I’ll show you I’m not like that make-believe hero.”
He drew her willowy body against his. Her full, rounded breasts flattened against his chest and brought a flare of arousal. His gaze fastened on her rosy lips, sending his blood on a reckless journey through his veins. He had to teach her she couldn’t trust him.
“Are you going to kiss my ma?”
Johnny’s innocent question doused him like a bucket of cold water, and Jake released Kit. She stepped back, her bosom rising and falling with her ragged breaths.
“No, he isn’t,” Kit replied, her voice husky. “We’re going to the house to have some supper.”
Her spine as stiff as a pitchfork handle, she turned, leading the way out of the barn. Jake grabbed the lantern and followed, Johnny walking beside him. His appreciative gaze followed Kit’s backside as it moved enticingly beneath the layers of skirts and petticoats, and his arousal grew painful. He swore to himself and mentally reviewed torts and writs and habeas corpus to distract his lecherous thoughts.
“You want to play with me?” Johnny asked.
“Sure.” Anything would be better than keeping images of Kit at bay with a mental law exam.
Jake took the boy’s outstretched hand and allowed himself to be tugged along to the house. He blew out the lantern and left it on the porch, then followed Johnny inside. The boy disappeared into the front room.
Jake noticed Kit’s flushed cheeks. “Are you warm?” he asked too innocently.
Kit lay her palm against the side of her face. “It must’ve been the walk from the barn.”
Jake moved closer to her. “Or maybe you’re disappointed we got interrupted.”
She blinked. “Of course not.”
He smiled rakishly, using the persuasive skills he’d perfected with countless women. “I think you’re lying.”
“I thought we were friends.”
“We are, but not as close as we could be.” Jake played his game well.
Her pupils dilated, and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Don’t do this, Jake.”
He leaned closer until he could feel her moist breath on his neck. “I haven’t done anything. Yet.”
She took a step back, her whole body poised to bolt like a frightened doe. “I have to get supper on. Are you hungry?”
Jake placed his palms against the wall on either side of Kit, effectively trapping her between his arms. “Ravenous.”
“Then let me go to the kitchen.”
She ducked under his arm, but he caught her around the waist, the underside of her breasts resting on his forearm. With her back against his chest, he could smell her fresh-scented hair as it tickled his nose. “Who said anything about food?”
She trembled like a frightened bird, and the image brought a pang of conscience. He thrust the emotion aside, instead giving in to the passion that flowed and ebbed within him. With his free hand he swept her hair aside and nibbled her velvet-soft earlobe. Moving downward, he tasted the sweet saltiness of her skin. He felt more than heard her throaty moan, and the sound unleashed an answering need within himself.
As her stiff body relaxed, her curved bottom pressed against his rigid desire. He closed his eyes, giving in to the tortuous pleasure she unwittingly gave him.
“Jake …” Kit’s voice made him drag his lids open.
“Yes?”
“We can’t…”
Her pulse throbbed in her slender neck, and he skimmed his lips across the satiny skin. Trailing kisses along her jaw, he turned her in his arms until they faced one another. The scent of cinnamon invaded his senses, and he smiled slightly. He’d never lain with a woman who didn’t smell like cheap liquor or cheaper perfume—usually both.
“Johnny—”
“What about him?” He buried his fingers in her golden hair, trapping the silky strands in his palms. Leaning forward, he lightly pressed his lips to a corner of her mouth, and moved downward to the top of her starched collar.
She gasped, her hands moving to his back, touching, sweeping across his shirt. Her movements were at first tentative, then bolder as she became an active participant in the game he’d instigated.
Lust coursed through his body, erasing all reason, all thought of teaching her a lesson. He wanted her lying below him, crying out his name as he pleasured her body.
“Johnny might see us.”
Her husky words made it past the thunder that filled his ears. Reluctantly he dr
ew back, his body aching with frustrated need. If the boy hadn’t been there, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve been able to halt his lesson before he went too far. “One of these days, it’ll just be you and me.”
Her face crimson, Kit said, “I don’t think that would be wise.”
Studying the alarm in her wide eyes, he asked, “Did I scare you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
There wasn’t even a hint of hesitancy in her tone. He’d failed to show her the real Jake Cordell. With an impatient hand, he rubbed his whiskered jaw. “I want you, Kit, but I can’t promise you anything, because I’ve got nothing to give.”
She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “Love isn’t something you choose to give or keep, Jake. It either is or it isn’t.”
He frowned. “You sound like you speak from experience.”
After a moment, she nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I do.”
Unexpected jealousy snared him abruptly and painfully. The alien emotion stymied him. Why should he care if she’d loved someone else?
“Johnny’s waiting for you in the front room,” Kit said. “I’ll call you when I have supper ready.”
She hurried away like hell’s hounds were nipping at her heels.
“Well, Jake, you went and did it this time,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his tousled hair. “Good thing she’s got more sense than you.”
He joined Johnny in the front room. The boy motioned him over, and Jake settled gingerly on the rug beside him, grateful his trousers were too large. He studied the layout of the stick corrals and assorted wooden horses. “This looks like Ki—your ma’s ranch.”
Johnny nodded. “It’s going to be mine someday. Ma said so.”
Guilt punched Jake in the gut. He hadn’t considered Johnny in his scheme to regain his father’s ranch. Getting the place from Kit was bad enough, but robbing a boy of his future didn’t set well on Jake’s mind.
Since Johnny wasn’t actually Kit’s flesh and blood, though, it wasn’t like he was stealing the boy’s heritage. If Jake’s father hadn’t thought so little of him, he would’ve left it to his own son, and the land would’ve remained in the Cordell family. The ranch rightfully belonged to Jake.
“Don’t you want to leave Chaney and see the rest of the world?” Jake asked.
Johnny picked up a black toy horse and trotted it into a corral. “I wouldn’t want to leave Ma alone. She needs me.”
“She’d have Charlie and Ethan and Two Ponies.”
The boy planted his elbow on his knee and propped his chin in his hand. “Yeah, but I think she’d miss me. I wouldn’t want her to be sad.”
Jake figured that was an understatement. Johnny meant the world to Kit. “Would you miss her?”
Johnny rearranged a toy corral. “Maybe a little.”
Johnny was trying so hard to act grown up. “I know what you mean. So, what are the names of your horses?”
Kit moved about the kitchen in a daze, her body still tingling in all the spots Jake had caressed. And some he hadn’t. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms below her breasts, which ached with a wanting she’d never experienced. However, it was more than her physical reaction to Jake’s masterful caresses that bothered her. Something much more devastating.
She thought she’d overcome her girlhood infatuation with him, but her racing heartbeat as he’d nearly seduced her belied that notion. This time, however, she saw him as he was, instead of as the shining knight she’d seen him as since she’d been a child. He was right. He wasn’t the perfect man she’d portrayed in the dime novels, but neither was he the prodigal he believed himself to be. He thought he was incapable of loving or being loved, but she’d watched him with Johnny and she knew otherwise.
And therein lay the danger. Now she was an adult, with the desires of a woman. She’d thought loving Johnny would be enough. Now she knew it wasn’t.
Although naive, Kit recognized her own awakening passions in Jake’s arms. Yet, understanding why Maggie had taken what he’d given without asking for more, she couldn’t give herself without his love.
And even if Jake found this love he swore he didn’t possess, there also lay the truth of Johnny’s parentage between them. Jake would be angry at first, but she suspected he would be able to forgive her.
The last and largest stumbling block was her identity as T. K. Thorne. If she confessed to being the infamous author, she feared she’d lose his friendship.
Burying her face in her hands, Kit gave in to her self-pity. Her attraction to Jake couldn’t be allowed to flourish. The insurmountable obstacles between them couldn’t be overcome.
She tried to forget how Jake’s muscles had felt beneath her hands, and the burning trail his sensuous lips had forged across her jaw and neck. She tried to forget how his masculinity had been plainly outlined when she’d seen him standing in the tub.
She tried to forget her body’s traitorous reaction to his long-dreamed-of kisses.
Straightening, she squared her shoulders and placed the meal on the table, then walked to the front room.
In the doorway, she paused to watch Jake and Johnny bent over the toy animals, overcome with melancholy.
Jake Cordell had never missed one before, and he wasn’t about to miss one now. He leaned low over Zeus’s neck, urging the powerful stallion into a ground-eating gait. Laying a hand on the saddlebags, Jake was reassured that the precious package still lay inside. He’d taken an extra day to find the famed carver, but the man’s work had been well worth it.
The ranch came into view, and Jake slowed his trusty steed. Drinking in the familiar picture, Jake wished he could hang his gun up for good. All he ever needed or wanted was found here behind the sturdy log walls of the Cordell home.
Despite his impatience, Jake cared for Zeus’s needs first with a rubdown and an extra helping of fresh hay. His tasks completed, Jake threw his saddlebags over his shoulder and strode to the house. He opened the door and breathed deeply of the comforting smells of meat frying on the stove and cedar crackling in the fireplace.
“Pa!”
Jake caught his young son in his arms, tossed him in the air, and caught him as the boy laughed with glee.
“Jake, you made it.” His beautiful wife’s melodic voice washed across him and made him glad he’d pushed himself to exhaustion to return home in time.
He shifted his boy to one arm and gathered his wife close in the other. He’d missed them more than he’d thought possible.
“It’s my birthday, Pa,” the boy exclaimed, his cheeks rosy. “And Ma made me a cake!”
“I was afraid you’d miss it,” his wife said softly.
Jake shook his head. “Not as long as I have a breath of life in me.”
He set the boy down and hunkered down beside him to open his saddlebags. Jake drew out a package tied with string, and handed it to him. “Happy birthday, son.”
Jake stood and wrapped his arm around his wife’s tiny waist, drawing her flush against his lean-angled body. Together they watched as the boy tugged on the string to open the present.
He held the horse carving up to them. “It’s Zeus.”
“That’s right,” Jake said. “Do you like it?”
“I love it, Pa. Thank you.” He threw his arms around Jake’s waist and hugged him.
Jake’s throat ached with raw emotion. The joy in his son’s face erased all the aches and pains of five days of hard riding. He swore he wouldn’t leave them again.
He wouldn’t chance missing his son’s birthday ever again.
Misty eyed, Kit shook herself free of her fantasy.
“Supper’s ready,” she announced,
Identical pairs of brown eyes looked up, and Jake and Johnny got to their feet.
She led the way to the dining room. “Would you like to say the blessing, Johnny?”
He nodded and clasped his hands. “Thank you for getting all the skunk smell off me and Mr. Cordell. And thanks for the food. Ame
n.”
“I like your style, Johnny—short and to the point,” Jake said.
Kit smiled. “God listens to everyone.”
Jake forked a few pieces of ham onto his plate. “You really believe that?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I used to, until I grew up.”
Whether Jake knew it or not, there was a part of him that still believed. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have returned to Chaney.
Toward the end of the meal, Johnny’s eyelids began to close.
“It looks like you’re ready for bed, young man,” Kit said.
“But me and Mr. Cordell haven’t gone riding yet,” he protested in a sleepy voice.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Jake said. “I’ll tuck you in, and next time I come, we’ll take twice as long a ride.”
“Promise?”
“Jake Cordell’s word is as good as gold, kid.” He stood and came around to steer Johnny up the stairs. Kit remained seated, feeling guilty for enjoying watching father and son together.
Upstairs, Jake tugged Johnny’s nightshirt on the boy.
“There you go. Now, hop into bed,” Jake said.
Johnny plopped onto the mattress, his eyes closing before Jake had the blankets tucked in around him. He rested a light hand on Johnny’s hair. The vulnerability in the boy’s serene face brought a stab of self-contempt. When Johnny looked at him with idolizing eyes, he saw someone who didn’t exist. For the first time, Jake wished he was the hero Johnny thought he was.
How could he take the ranch from Kit, knowing he’d also be taking away the only home Johnny had ever known? If she didn’t make the last payment, Jake could legally seize the place, but Johnny wouldn’t understand that was his right.
Jake was a lawyer, not a minister. So why did he feel lower than a flat frog in an empty well?
“Good night, kid,” he said softly.
Stomach churning, he quickly retreated from the moonlit room.
Kit met him at the bottom of the stairs. “Here’s your clothes. They’re still a little damp, but I’m sure you’d rather go back to town in these than in what you have on.”
Maureen McKade Page 18