A Kiss in the Sunlight

by Marie Patrick

  “It’s my favorite place in the whole house. Always has been.” Malva shrugged, then grinned, her earlier reluctance to speak apparently gone. “I feel more at home in the kitchen than anywhere else.”

  “How long have you been taking care of Whispering Pines?”

  Malva didn’t look up from the bread she was cutting into thick slices and stacking on a plate. “Shep and I have been here since Mr. Buford passed on.”

  That was a name Ryleigh hadn’t heard before. “Who was Mr. Buford?”

  “Buford Gaines, Miss Mary’s first husband.” She grabbed a bowl of mayonnaise she’d obviously made up earlier that morning and started slathering the condiment on the bread. “He was a good man. Built this ranch from nothing. He and Mary lived in a tent the first year they were here while he built this house.” A sigh left her, but she didn’t look up. “No one ever expected such a big, brawny man to die of influenza. He left Mary with Matthew barely a year old. Poor thing didn’t know what to do. Here she had this ranch and a baby, but no husband and no money.”

  She stopped swiping slices of bread with mayonnaise and stuck the knife back into the bowl. “It was actually Mam, Teague’s mother, who brought us all together. Shep and I were newly married and living with his folks, but none of us were happy with those accommodations. Shep’s mother, bless her heart, was a hard woman. She was so happy when Shep had gone to college. She always pictured him designing bridges and buildings, but he only went to please her. It was never what he wanted, which was ranching. Even worse in her eyes is that he came home from school and married me.”

  She shrugged her slim shoulders. “But that’s neither here nor there. Mam is the one who suggested to Mary that she hire Shep to run the ranch and me to help with the baby in exchange for a salary and a place to live. We’ve been here ever since. It was a good arrangement. Mary and I were closer than some sisters I know. It was the same for Shep and Buford.”

  “Tell me about Kieran and Mary.”

  The woman glanced at her quickly, then turned away, but in that brief moment, Ryleigh saw pain and sadness in the woman’s eyes. “Ah, Kieran. He was a fine man, too. A lot like Teague, Brock, and Eamon. Siobhan and Shamus did a fine job raising those boys. Never heard any of them say a mean word about anyone. They’re all kind and considerate. Hard working, too.” She turned away and took a deep breath as if struggling for composure, then started laying out slices of cold chicken on the bread. “He loved Miss Mary like the sun rose and set on her. It never made no never mind that she was older than him. Loved Matthew, too, like he was his own son. And Desi Lyn. She was the apple of Kieran’s eye.”

  “What happened to them?”

  Malva opened her mouth, then closed it with a snap, her lips tightening. In seconds, her eyes grew moist, the sheen making the green somehow greener and she shook her head. She swallowed hard, then opened her mouth again and drew in a deep breath. Her voice was tight when she said, “I try not to think about it. It was such an awful thing. I―”

  Whatever information she was willing to impart never passed her lips as Teague, Shep, and the children came in for lunch, interrupting the opportunity, the only one Ryleigh might have. Disappointment simmered in her, but she smiled anyway, especially when Teague glanced in her direction and gave her that grin that sent a burst of heat from her head to her toes.

  • • •

  Teague leaned back in his chair, his belly full of Malva’s flavorful soup and roasted chicken sandwiches, and glanced across the table where Ryleigh was in deep conversation with Desi Lyn and Sarah, who sat on either side of her. The girls were animated, as was she, and something in the region of his heart shifted.

  She was definitely different than Michaela. His former fiancée had never had the time for Desi Lyn, never spoke to her like Ryleigh did. She’d never come out to the ranch either, despite invitations, complaining it was too dirty, too rustic, and perhaps, that was true. Whispering Pines wasn’t like the fine mansion she’d grown up in high on a hill on the outskirts of town. Being the banker’s only daughter, she’d never wanted for anything. The truth, when he realized it after she’d left town, left him feeling disappointed and sad. She just hadn’t wanted to spend any time with Desi Lyn or his friends. As if none of them were good enough for her, including himself.

  Ryleigh wasn’t like that at all. She’d taken to Desi Lyn as quickly as the girl had taken to her. She’d taken to his friends, too, and they seemed to return the sentiment. He liked that.

  His focus shifted and landed upon Malva. She was watching him watch Ryleigh, her eyes twinkling, her smile somehow knowing. But knowing what? That he’d become more than fond of Ryleigh in such a short period of time? That he’d begun to think of her in a different way, picturing her in his bed more often than not, her hair spread out on his pillow and her eyes dark with passion?

  “May we be excused?” Desi Lyn dropped her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back, interrupting his unuttered questions.

  The action as well as the question was repeated by Sarah. “Can we?”

  He glanced at her plate. It was empty except for the crust. Sarah’s plate held bread crust as well. Both had finished their soup. “Malva?”

  “Of course.” The woman gave a nod, and the girls ran from the room, giggling as the dog followed. “Stay out of trouble.”

  Teague grunted as he turned in his seat and glanced out the window to follow their progress as they headed toward the barn. “Well, that would be a miracle, wouldn’t it?”

  Malva laughed. “As Mam would say, they’re thick as thieves!”

  “And she’d be right.” He brought his attention back to the table, then focused on Shep. “You ready to go over the books?”

  “Sure thing.” Shep rose from the table and headed toward the study, his footsteps making the floorboards beneath him creak with his passage.

  “Will you be all right for a little while?” he asked Ryleigh. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

  That beautiful woman flashed an impish grin that made him feel like the sun’s rays shone only on him. “Don’t worry about me. Malva and I will be fine.”

  Teague followed Shep into the study and took a seat at the desk while Shep pulled a thick record book from the drawer and slid it in front of him. He said not a word as he made himself comfortable in an easy chair.

  The ledger, as Teague suspected before he even opened it, was perfect. Shep kept meticulous records, his precise numbers and letters filling the pages. Expenditures were clearly marked and kept to a minimum while profits from the sale of several horses rose. Desi Lyn’s legacy was stable and would likely remain so until she came of age, thanks to Shep and Malva Parsons. Kieran would have been proud.

  “Fine job as usual, Shep,” Teague said, although it didn’t seem like enough. Knowing the man as well as he did though, the simple words were too much.

  A blush settled over Shep’s cheeks, uncomfortable with any kind of praise. “Thanks.”

  Finished going over the books, Teague entered the kitchen a few moments later to see Malva cleaning the sink, the dishes done, while Ryleigh dried the last plate. He leaned against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest as they chatted back and forth about nothing, oblivious that he watched. A smile twisted his lips. Ryleigh wore one of Malva’s pristine white aprons over her split skirt and looked . . . not only fetching, but quite at home as she added the plate to the stack on the table.

  “Well, Ryleigh, are you ready to head back into town?”

  She jumped, startled, then let out a laugh and neatly folded the dishtowel, placing it next to the dishes before untying the apron from around her waist. She slung it over the chair as her gaze met his. “Of course. If you’re ready.”

  He shrugged. “We could stay a little longer, but I’m certain Malva and Shep can’t wait until we’re out of their hair.”

  “Oh, that’s not true. We love having you visit.” Malva laughed as she turned away from the sink. She dried her hands, then
, rather impulsively, Teague thought, gave Ryleigh a quick embrace. He cocked an eyebrow at the display but said nothing, though his curiosity had been aroused. He’d never witnessed Malva do that before. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  A flush colored Ryleigh’s cheeks, which made Teague grin, and she swallowed hard, her throat moving beneath the high collar of her tan blouse. “It was my pleasure.” She turned toward Shep, who stood at Teague’s side. “Thank you both for a lovely day.”

  The man didn’t say a word. He simply nodded, then moved toward the back door and opened it. Teague grasped Ryleigh’s arm and guided her through, followed by Malva, who still held a towel in her hands. She stood with Shep on the porch, her hands on her hips. Shep moved toward one of the posts and leaned against it. He pulled a pipe from his pocket and clamped it between his teeth. Old and worn, the rich patina of the bowl seemed to glow in the light.

  Teague recognized it immediately. It had once belonged to Kieran, given to him by Mam after Da passed away. Though he was glad the pipe was in good hands, seeing it made him swallow hard. He shook himself and murmured, “Thanks again” before he trod down the porch steps and walked across the barnyard, Ryleigh beside him though he was no longer holding her arm. “Come on, Desi Lyn. It’s time to go,” he called out and waited for her reply.

  The little girl ran out from the barn, breathless, sweaty, and dirty. The pigtails he’d brushed her hair into earlier were completely out of their ribbons, leaving a wild, tangled mass surrounding her face. Bits of straw stuck up at strange angles from her hair, too, and her clothing was in disarray. Sarah looked the same, and suspicion made Teague’s stomach tense.

  Left to her own devices, his niece was a bit of a daredevil, not unlike how he and his brothers had been, and he knew what they’d been doing―jumping from the loft in the barn into the mound of straw beneath―but he asked anyway. “Were you jumping into the hay?”

  She grinned up at him, showing the space where her two front teeth should have been, and giggled. “Yes, sir!” Teague couldn’t detect a single ounce of remorse in either her tone or her expression.

  The dog came out from the barn a moment later, his tail wagging, ears perked. Teague glanced at him and noticed the straw in his fur. “Was Shotgun jumping, too?”

  Her grin widened as she shrugged. “He followed me and Sarah up the ladder, and then he couldn’t get down.”

  Hands on his hips, he tried to keep a straight face, but looking into hers made it extremely difficult. Ryleigh didn’t make it any easier, either. He could hear her snickering beside him. “So you stood in the hay and called him.”

  Desi Lyn nodded as she pushed her hair out of her face. “He liked it!”

  “I didn’t know dogs could climb ladders.” Ryleigh said, her voice filled with humor.

  “Apparently, with the right incentive, they can.” Teague shook his head, his gaze going from his niece to the dog. “He doesn’t seem any worse for wear.” And he didn’t. In fact, if a dog could smile, then Shotgun did so with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.

  Desi Lyn looked past him, her grin infectious. “Do you want to try, Miss Ryleigh? It’s fun!”

  “Me? You want me to jump from the loft into a pile of hay?” Ryleigh laughed, and the sweet, sultry sound settled in Teague’s belly, as it always did.

  The little girl nodded, her eyes full of delight.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” Again, she nodded, and Ryleigh bent down so she was eye-level with her. “I’m afraid of heights.”

  Desi Lyn inhaled. “You are?”

  Stunned couldn’t begin to define the jolt that went through Teague with her admission. She’s afraid of heights? Why didn’t she tell me when I practically dragged her out onto the rock shelf? She must have been petrified!

  An apology rose to his lips, but before he could utter it, Rowdy Barnes, former bronco buster on one of the other ranches, limped from the shadows of the barn, his shoulders hunched as if he couldn’t straighten up, and drew his attention. He touched the brim of his hat, then extended his hand in greeting as he nodded toward the girls. “Afternoon, Teague. Wanted to let you know the girls were all right. I was keeping an eye on them.” He came in a little closer. “And Desi Lyn is right about the dog. I think he liked it.” He shrugged. “Kept followin’ the girls up the ladder. After the first time, Desi Lyn didn’t even have to call him. He jumped by himself.”

  Teague smiled as he shook the hand offered. “Rowdy! It’s been a long time. Didn’t know you were out here.”

  The man pushed up the brim of his hat, then settled his hands on his hips. “Shep offered me a job fixing the saddles and harnesses and so forth.” A long sigh left his mouth, making his horseshoe mustache flutter. “My bronco busting days are over. Can’t even ride no more. Doc Finch fixed my leg, but I can’t sit in the saddle like I used to ’cause o’ this back.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.

  Teague turned slightly and gestured to Ryleigh. “Ryleigh, this is Rowdy Barnes. Best bronco buster I ever knew.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barnes.”

  “It’s just plain Rowdy, ma’am.”

  “Rowdy, then.” She flashed a smile at him, and Teague held back his grin as the older man all but melted beneath the onslaught of that brilliance.

  He’d been on the receiving end of that grin and knew its effect all too well.

  “Forgive my ignorance, but what’s a bronco buster?”

  As Rowdy explained the fine art of taming a horse for riding and further explained how he’d been hurt, Teague watched her and his heart picked up an extra beat. Though Rowdy had her full attention, she still managed to hold Desi Lyn’s hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “You headin’ out?” Rowdy asked once he’d finished explaining to Ryleigh how he’d gotten hurt. At Teague’s nod, he continued, “I’ll hitch up your carriage.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  The man limped back into the barn, his steps slow and painful-looking.

  “He seems like a nice man,” Ryleigh stated in a low, hoarse voice. “It’s a shame what happened to him. Imagine being stomped on by a horse and breaking not only your leg, but your back, too.”

  “He’s tough, as you can see. Glad Shep took him in. He’s a good man.”

  In short order, Rowdy led the horse and carriage into the barnyard and wrapped the reins around the handle. He touched the brim of his hat, then disappeared into the shadows of the barn, back to fixing harnesses. Desi Lyn hugged Sarah with a promise to come back soon, then hopped into the buggy, the dog jumping in right after her and making himself comfortable on the cushioned seat. Once the carriage stopped rocking and both Desi Lyn and Shotgun were settled, Teague looked at Ryleigh. “You ready?”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything as he took her hand and helped her up, then he came around the carriage and climbed in, untying the reins from the handle.

  Teague shook the reins, setting the carriage in motion. “Come on, Clementine. Let’s go home.”

  It had been a good day, and he was glad Desi Lyn had invited Ryleigh out to the ranch. Her presence had taken away some of the pain he often felt when he visited, though Shep and Malva were always warm and welcoming. He flicked the reins, urging Clementine a little faster, then turned onto the road toward town. He glanced in her direction. “Thank you again for coming today. Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Very much so. Shep and Malva are lovely, and the ranch is beautiful.”

  “You should see it when the stars are out and the moon is hanging over the pasture.”

  She smiled, dimples forming in her cheeks, and the delicate skin around her eyes crinkled just a bit. “I’d like that.”

  And he’d like showing it to her. He could imagine her standing in the middle of the field with the moonlight reflecting off her silky sable hair, her eyes softly glowing as she gazed into his.

  He shook himself out of his musings though it was difficult
. “What about you, sweet pea? Did you have a good time today?”

  There was no answer from the seat behind him, and Teague turned to look. He laughed quietly at the sight that met his eye. Desi Lyn slumped in her seat, her chin nearly on her chest, feet dangling toward the floor, fast asleep. Shotgun nestled beside her, his head on her stomach, eyes closed like his mistress. “I guess she did. The dog, too.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ryleigh rolled the paten forward and pulled a freshly typed page from her typewriter, then picked up her notebook and started flipping through the pages to make sure everything she’d written down about Sheriff MacDermott so far had been transcribed. The typed pages from her notes were now in a neat stack almost an inch high at the side of her typewriter. Since arriving in town, she’d managed to speak to almost everyone.

  Trying to decipher her own poor penmanship all morning had given her a headache, one which pounded behind her eyes. How was she to type up her notes when she couldn’t even decipher them?

  Reading her own writing wasn’t her only problem.

  Frustrated, she let out a long sigh and tapped her two front teeth with the tip of the pencil a few times, then tossed the implement on the table. She rubbed her face, then stretched her tight shoulder muscles and sighed.

  After almost four weeks of interviews, she had . . . nothing.

  Well, not quite nothing, but probably a lot less than what Xander had on his story. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise her if Xander’s article was completely finished. He, after all, hadn’t had to travel much farther than San Francisco’s City Hall.

  She did know one thing. The people of Paradise Falls were loyal to their sheriff, because no one, not one person, would talk about the day the Logans rode into town, though Malva had started to but never did. They spoke instead about his selflessness, his generosity, and the pranks he’d played when he was young. There were a lot of stories of what he and his brothers had been like growing up, how the MacDermotts, Teague in particular, helped anyone who needed it, and how respected he was, almost as if the townspeople completely put the shoot-out from their minds . . . or were shielding him, unwilling to bring up painful memories.