Maureen McKade

by A Dime Novel Hero

  Johnny climbed down by himself and leaned over to give Toby a quick hug. The dog wagged its tail gratefully, then nudged Jake’s hand with its damp nose. Jake scratched behind the animal’s drooping ear and was rewarded with a moist tongue.

  Johnny laid his palm on his pet’s back. “This is my pa, Toby.” The boy gazed up at Jake with adoration brimming his eyes.

  Paternal pride swept through Jake, stunning him with its force.

  Kit coughed, drawing his attention. He studied her for a moment, noting her pale face. The dark circles beneath her eyes attested to a lack of sleep. Knowing he was the cause, Jake took hold of her arm gently. “Why don’t you go on into the house and lie down for a little while? It’s been a busy day.”

  She lifted her chin in a familiar defiant gesture. “I’ll go put supper on. Johnny can help you put up the horses.”

  Kit spun around and flounced toward the house, her cream-colored dress dancing around her long legs.

  Johnny frowned. “Ma seems mad.”

  Jake stared after Kit a moment, then tousled the boy’s thick hair. “She’s just tired. Let’s put the horses in the barn.”

  They removed their jackets and set to work. Jake unhitched the traces from the horses and had Johnny lead them into the barn. After hanging up the gear in the tack room, Jake joined his son in giving the animals a quick rubdown.

  Watching Johnny’s intent expression as he worked, Jake could tell the boy was eager to please him—yet he supposed it was he who should be seeking approval. The loose-moraled life he’d led the past few years wouldn’t have been conducive to raising an impressionable boy. Kit had done an admirable job raising his son, and much as he hated to admit it, he was indebted to her.

  Jake tossed the damp saddle blanket he’d used over the fence slat and stepped out of the stall, closing the gate behind him. He leaned against the upper rail to observe Johnny. His son. The child Kit had raised without asking for anything in return.

  Startled by his thoughts, Jake straightened. Kit hadn’t demanded any recompense for giving five years of her life to rear a boy who wasn’t even kin to her. And she had taken Maggie in to stay with her until Maggie had given birth, just as she’d given Charlie and Ethan jobs when nobody else would.

  The truth glared at him, proclaiming him the villain, not her. Jake shifted uncomfortably. He’d run away and left Maggie and his son alone. He’d blackmailed Kit into marrying him. He’d bought the note to the ranch behind Kit’s back.

  He scrubbed his whiskers with his palms. Maybe he was the one who needed forgiveness.

  “I’m done,” Johnny announced.

  Startled out of his somber reverie, Jake smiled at the boy. “You did a fine job. Let’s go see your ma.”

  Jake held out his hand, and Johnny wrapped his small fingers around it. Leaving the barn, Jake pushed the bar into place across the door, and they crossed the dusky yard to the house.

  “I hope Ma’s got supper ready,” Johnny said.

  Jake sent his son an expression of mock incredulous-ness. “After all that food you ate this afternoon, you’re hungry again?”

  Johnny shrugged. “Ma says I’m a bottomless pit.” He gazed up at Jake with inquisitive eyes. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re a growing boy, and growing boys never run out of room in their bellies.”

  “Did your ma call you a bottomless pit, too?”

  Anguished pain shafted Jake’s chest. “My ma left me when I was about your age.”

  “Were you bad?”

  Jake paused and glanced down at Johnny. “Why do you say that?”

  He shrugged his thin shoulders. “Sometimes I’m scared Ma might leave me if I’m bad.”

  “Has she ever said that?”

  Johnny shook his head. “No, but Ethan’s ma done that to him.”

  Jake hunkered down in front of his son, placing him at eye level with the boy. “You listen to me, Johnny. Your ma loves you, and she’d never leave you, no matter what you did.”

  The boy studied Jake for a long moment, his dark eyes nearly swallowed up by the black pupils. “Would you leave me if I was bad, Pa?”

  Jake’s throat clogged with an emotion so powerful that for a moment he couldn’t speak past the lump. Instead, he gathered Johnny in his arms and pulled him close. “I promise I’ll never leave you, Johnny. No matter what,” he whispered in his ear.

  Johnny wrapped his short arms around Jake’s neck.

  After a few moments, Jake released his son and drew an arm across his eyes, glad for the darkness that hid his features. Yellow light spilled out of the windows, beckoning Jake, and he and Johnny hurried to the house.

  The smells of fresh coffee and frying meat brought a smile to Jake’s lips. Many nights as he’d lain under the stars, he’d imagined coming home to this ranch and stepping inside to be welcomed by a family and mouthwatering scents of supper. He glanced down at Johnny, his chest tightening at the sight of his son.

  Kit entered the hall and he noticed she still wore her wedding dress, although she’d donned an apron which accentuated her enticing curves. The flower garland on her crown had disappeared and her hair danced about her shoulders. She glanced at him, her expression cool, and disappointment fell across Jake like a condemning shadow. He couldn’t blame her for being so distant.

  Her gaze shifted to Johnny, and her expression eased into a smile. “Why don’t you go upstairs and change your clothes, Johnny? When you come down, you can have something to eat.”

  “Doesn’t Pa have to change, too?” he asked.

  Kit pressed her spectacles up on her nose, a gesture Jake had come to recognize as a sign of nervousness. She glanced at him, her smile vanishing. “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.”

  Johnny scowled. “Then I don’t have to if I don’t want to.”

  Kit opened her mouth, but Jake held up his hand to stave off her reprimand. He hardened his features, hoping he looked stern. “You heard your ma. Go and change, or you won’t get any supper.”

  Johnny stared at Jake in surprise, then with only a slight grumble, stomped upstairs. Once the boy was out of earshot, Jake turned to Kit. “Did I do all right?”

  The corners of Kit’s bow-shaped lips tilted upward. “You did fine. When he gets tired, he gets crabby.”

  “It’ll be an early night for all of us,” Jake commented.

  Kit’s cheeks reddened, and her gaze stumbled around the foyer. “I’d best go finish getting supper on.”

  She hurried away, leaving Jake alone. He debated whether to follow her or not. What would he tell her—that there’d been no hidden meaning to his words? He’d be lying. He wanted her with an intensity that almost frightened him.

  Suddenly restless, he roamed into the front room and stood in the center. Turning slowly, he tried to picture the room as it had been when he was a child. Stark and cold. He shuddered with the bleak memory. His father had removed every visible reminder of his wife after she’d abandoned them. Kit, however, had transformed four barren walls into a place filled with warmth and life.

  He sank into a wingback chair and rubbed his brow. He had his rightful home and an heir to pass on the Cordell legacy. He should’ve been content.

  A few minutes later, Kit called them to supper, and although Jake wasn’t hungry, he joined his new family in the dining room. Her usual place, at the head of the table, lay vacant. Kit had seated herself across from Johnny, and Jake stared at the new arrangement. He glanced at Kit, who regarded him with an expectant tilt of her head. Behind her lenses, her eyes appeared as bright as a summer sky, and equally as alluring.

  Feeling like an impostor, Jake took his place. He frowned. “Where are Charlie and Ethan?”

  Keeping her gaze averted from Jake, Kit adjusted the napkin in her lap. “They usually eat in the bunkhouse.”

  “I guess I’ll talk to them tomorrow.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m going to tell them they have a job here as long as t
hey want. I gave you my word on that.”

  “Thank you.”

  She and Johnny bowed their heads, and Jake followed their example, folding his hands together.

  “Thank you for all the blessings you’ve bestowed upon us,” Kit prayed aloud. “Amen.”

  Johnny echoed her amen, and Jake mouthed the word silently. As Johnny began chattering about the wedding and all the nice people he’d met, Jake tried to concentrate on his excited words, but Kit’s presence kept drawing his attention. She picked at her food, and her face appeared carved from white marble.

  He missed the Kit who’d sat on the floor alphabetizing the books in his office. He missed the Kit who’d convinced him to leave the saloon, then who’d stayed with him while he’d suffered through a massive hangover. He missed the Kit whom he’d kissed behind the barn on Easter Sunday.

  Maybe tonight when they were alone, he could coax the Kit he’d known out from behind her cool mask. He didn’t understand why it was so important to him that she smile at him again; he only knew he wanted to see that woman once more.

  After they’d finished eating, Kit rose and glanced at Johnny, whose eyelids drooped sleepily. “Jake, could you put Johnny to bed while I take care of the dishes?”

  Jake stood and moved to his son’s side. “C’mon, Johnny, it’s time for bed.”

  After a token resistance, the boy surrendered to Jake and allowed him to guide him upstairs to his room. Although Jake often experienced a wispy déjà vu when he visited Kit’s house, this time the sensation overwhelmed him. As Johnny readied himself for bed, Jake pictured himself as a boy in this same room. Jake’s own father, however, had never tucked him into bed. Another memory, like a vague dream, spilled across his thoughts. One night after he’d gone to sleep, something had awakened young Jake. He’d opened his eyes, and at first he thought a bear was sitting in the rocker beside his bed. Then he’d recognized his father watching him silently, puffing on the ever-present pipe that created a cloud of smoke around him.

  Go back to sleep, son. I’ll always be here for you.

  Jake heard his father’s gruff yet gentle voice as if he stood behind him. Jake turned, but no apparition greeted him. Irrational disappointment filled him. Had he imagined that night so long ago?

  Instinct told Jake the memory was real. Why had he remembered it now, so many years later? Was it because Jake now had a son, and he could understand a father’s concern?

  Maybe Kit was right—maybe Jonathan Cordell had loved his son, but didn’t know how to express his feelings. Maybe the only way his father had known how to show his concern was to sit with him late at night while Jake had been asleep. Only then could his father lower his guard and display his true feelings.

  “You gonna tell me a story, Pa?”

  Jake blinked, startled out of his reverie by Johnny’s request. He lowered himself to the edge of the boy’s bed and tucked the blankets in around Johnny. “What kind of story do you want to hear?”

  “Tell me what you did when you were my size.”

  Expecting a request for his exploits as a bounty hunter, Jake was surprised. Surprised, but pleased.

  Jake began to tell him about the time he’d gone fishing with his own father, but only a few minutes into the tale, Johnny fell asleep. Gazing down at his son’s innocent features, a wave of love and protectiveness crested through Jake. This must have been what Jonathan Cordell had felt as he’d watched over young Jake’s sleeping figure. Now, six years after his father’s death, Jake experienced a kinship with the elder Cordell, and he grieved for what had been lost between them. Studying Johnny, Jake vowed never to be only the midnight shadow his father had been.

  He owed Kit his gratitude for giving Johnny the nurturing the boy needed. He owed her for not turning his own son against him as she’d raised Johnny alone. And he owed her for agreeing to become his wife to ensure Johnny the love of both parents.

  Jake leaned down and kissed his son’s untroubled brow. Reluctantly he stood and left the room with silent footsteps. At the bottom of the stairs he paused. The muted clatter of metal against metal told Jake that Kit was in the kitchen, finishing the supper dishes.

  Would she want him to join her? What was expected of a husband on the wedding night? A husband who’d coerced his bride into marrying him. He bit the inside of his cheek. He might not love her, but he cared for her and wanted to make amends.

  He’d been wrong about his father, and he’d allowed his bitterness to affect all aspects of his life. He couldn’t afford to allow that same resentment to influence his relationship with Kit and Johnny—especially since he wasn’t so certain Kit had been completely at fault. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect Johnny.

  In spite of everything, she had given him his son. She could’ve kept silent, but she’d taken the chance of losing Johnny so Jake could know his flesh and blood.

  Self-disgust twisted his stomach into knots. He’d accused her of deceit, when it was he who’d lied to her. Kit, with her tender heart, deserved better than him.

  He ached with the need to hold her, to ask her forgiveness. Somehow, he’d convince her he cared for her as much as he could for any woman. And if he was capable of love, maybe someday …

  Stiffening his spine as if he was readying himself for a showdown, he strode to the kitchen.

  Kit glanced up at Jake’s abrupt entrance. She turned away, afraid he’d see her heart threatening to gallop out of her chest and the desire his mere presence conjured.

  “Is Johnny asleep?” she asked, and realized her voice sounded as if she’d just raced her son from the corrals to the house.

  Jake nodded, a dark curl spilling across his forehead. “The little guy was all tuckered out.”

  The fondness in his tone brought a lump to Kit’s throat. Avoiding his gaze, she folded her dish towel and hung it over a chair. She lifted the pan of soapy water out of the sink and turned to take it outside. Jake took hold of the basin with steady hands.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Jake said softly. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed?” His crooked smile could’ve charmed a spinster out of her corset.

  Heat flushed Kit’s face and desire pooled in her stomach.

  “Well, are you going to let me take it?” he asked, with a provocative arch of his dark brow.

  Flustered, Kit realized she still held fast to the metal pan. His hands were so close to hers, she could feel the heat of his skin. She let go her hold abruptly, and the water splashed up to dampen Jake’s shirtfront.

  “I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, grabbing a towel to dab at the wet material. Embarrassment heated her cheeks.

  “Don’t be,” Jake said softly. He leaned close, his balmy breath spilling across her neck. “I’m not.”

  Kit jerked back, and gazed up at his liquid brown eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she would drown in their inviting depths.

  “Go upstairs, Kit. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  Jake took the pan of water out the back door, and Kit scurried out of the kitchen. She raced up to her room. Our room, she corrected herself with a panicky thought. How did one prepare for a wedding night?

  She surveyed her bedroom as if she’d never seen it before. No longer would she be sleeping alone in the four-poster bed with the double wedding ring quilt her mother had made before Kit had been born. From now on, she’d be sharing it with the very man she’d dreamed of many past restless nights. If only the marriage had been based on love instead of distrust and extortion.

  Jake’s movements downstairs spurred her into action, and she removed her clothing in record haste. Tempted to don her usual flannel nightgown with its button-up high collar, Kit instead opened a trunk at the end of the bed. She withdrew a creamy white gown made of foulard, a material so thin it appeared almost indecent. Her mother had worn it on her wedding night, but she and Kit’s father had loved one another. Kit hoped it wouldn’t be sacrilegious to wear it when only the bride loved her husband.

  The stairs
creaked and Kit made her decision. She threw the nearly sheer gown on, and with trembling fingers, fastened the few buttons that closed the front.

  The door opened, revealing Jake’s heart-achingly familiar figure. He stood motionless, framed in the opening as his gaze caressed every part of her body. She shivered beneath his scorching perusal and her muscles seemed to melt beneath the fiery heat.

  He entered, shutting out the world behind him. The room seemed dwarfed by his broad shoulders and six-foot-plus frame. His glorious maleness stole her breath, sending her chest into an energetic race for air. Jake’s attention strayed to her breasts, and she consciously forced herself to keep her arms at her sides.

  He approached her with an innate confidence, his powerful thighs flexing beneath his snug trousers. Held spellbound by the smoldering desire that darkened his eyes, Kit ignored the tiny voice that told her to move away, to escape before the web was complete.

  She could run to the ends of the earth, but there’d be no fleeing the simple truth: she wanted him and he wanted her.

  “You’re beautiful, Kit.”

  His velvety voice wrapped its fine-spun words about her, cloaking her with warmth. She closed her eyes, trying to remember that Jake had forced her to marry him by threatening to take Johnny away. But his dizzying caresses and tender words melted her outrage.

  Besides, she’d promised herself to make him love her, and actions spoke louder than mere words. She lifted a trembling hand and cupped his whiskered cheek. He turned into her palm, kissing the sensitive skin and sparking a trail of fire that led to the center of her desire.

  Jake eased away and removed the spectacles she’d forgotten she still wore. Humiliated, she looked away, but he drew her back, raising her chin with his forefinger.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, honey.” He flashed her a devilish grin. “I happen to like them.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t patronize me, Jake. I know how ugly they make me look.”

  His expression sobered, and he held her face between his palms. “Whoever told you that is an idiot.”