The Cowboy Takes A Bride

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The Cowboy Takes A Bride Page 10

by Jillian Hart


  "With that wink you just gave me, I'm betting the posse I'm on got a good write up for the bank robbery we stopped last week, right?"

  "Absolutely, yes, oh, it's all in there." Yancey stopped to clutch the shovel's worn wooden handle in one hand and give his spectacles a thumb-up with the other. "How's that new pony working out for your twins?"

  "Oh, the pony is not as much trouble as you would think, not when compared with the twins."

  "They must keep your folks busy beyond all reason." Yancey winked as he gave his front door a push and reached inside to grab a folded newspaper. "They look awfully happy, however."

  "Too true." Frisco took the folded edition of the weekly paper with a grin and a nod of thanks. "I have great parents and I can never do enough for them."

  "Is that so? Then maybe you should think about getting a wife again." Yancey's grin didn't waver, for he, like so many, believed he was offering good sound advice. "What an easier job that would be for them, huh?"

  "I think so, but they've given up on that hope. We can't all wind up as happy as you and your wife."

  "I've gotten lucky, no doubt about it." The newspaperman's sparkle brightened in those kind eyes. "Happiness can be yours too, young whippersnapper. You try courting a lady, won't you? I hear you were in the jewelry shop not too long ago."

  "A mission of mercy, that was all," he said over his shoulder. "No woman would have me."

  "That was just my problem too, and then I solved it by finding the right one!"

  "Have a great day, Yancey."

  "You, too, Frisco."

  He continued on with a grin, knowing his father may have mentioned something to the newspaperman. Or, Yancey's sleuthing skills were more impressive than anyone thought or was used to in this small, frontier town. It was a little humiliating. Because that always brought up his past, and one thing he did not want to talk about was what happened with his wife. That betrayal was something he could not begin to explain to just anyone, so they would never know his pain.

  Even if it was a long time ago, he'd never been the one who left. It was a hard truth that people let you down and forgiveness was a big piece of that, and so he'd done that. But his being alone was tough on the boys, who mattered more than his feelings ever would.

  He gave the paper a shake, unfolding it from eighths to a quarter and gave a glance at the headline. A grin spread across his face at the black and white photo of the bank and his fellow volunteer deputies standing in front of it armed with their trusty Winchesters and protective pride.

  Good, he thought, he couldn't wait to read the article. He splashed through a puddle of melting water on the snow-bound street, nearly slipped, almost lost his balance but didn't land on his backside, whew, and continued on to the boardwalk not far from Miss Jada Shepherd's shop. That wasn't a bad idea in this small town, made up of eight full streets, including residential. Already this morning the ring of carpenters' hammers punctuated the cold morning sunshine, for the town was growing at a boom pace.

  He looked up in time to avoid the same post he'd ran into in the swirling snow. Humiliation. It was a bad, bad thing. Good thing that wasn't captured on film and published in the paper. That was one exploit he'd rather keep to himself. Not even the boys knew, which meant not even his parents knew (those boys couldn't keep a secret between them). Too late he realized that his boots had stopped moving, that his feet had taken him here to stand in front of Jada's front window.

  The wind gusted hard down the street, driving the dripping snowmelt off the roof and onto the ground along side the boardwalk to tinkle in puddles. He shivered, for that wind had a bite to it as it scudded against him, but it couldn't begin to cool the restless, but warm, feeling deep within him. And his groin kicked. In truth, his feelings for Jada were not all that innocent.

  A rap on the glass in front of him startled him. He jumped, adrenaline kicking into his bloodstream along with something else he hadn't felt in ages. Hungry desire.

  He looked up and his eyes latched onto hers. Jada Shepherd, and it was too late to run. She looked surprised too as she zipped across the few feet to the door and whipped it open.

  "Frisco!" She wore his pin on her collar once again, this time on a soft rose-pink calico dress with lace trim. What a pretty picture she made framed in that doorway. "You nearly made me drop the cinnamon rolls when I first spotted you staring in here. Something tells me that you get a home-cooked meal at home, but we if you want, I can donate a cinnamon roll. There's only one reason a man in this town looks through this window."

  "What?" His eyebrows shot up. Did she know? Had she figured it out? His heartbeat kicked up, thundering like a wild Montana blizzard in mountain country.

  "Hunger," she said. "This window has a good view of the display case."

  "That's right. It's a sight that should stop most men in their tracks." He felt awkward, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet. His heartbeat thundered so hard, he was like to fall over. Faint. Keel over and land on his backside, and he was a man used to looking danger in the eye.

  Yep, this was worse. Looking a woman in the eye he wanted to come calling on and get into his bed was harder than facing down the wild desperadoes who'd taken over the bank not long ago. Even if Jada was giving him a sweet, gentle but a bit confused smile, as if she could not figure him out in the slightest.

  Good. He had that going for him. It was a start.

  "I get a lot of men staring in the window, and now I know why. Come on in, why don't you?" Her mouth gave a little twist, giving him a smile of approval. "I'm not open for business so I'll make an exception for you. I have the feeling that most people do."

  "I never say no to a pretty lady." His nerves knotted up but he followed her inside. "It smells good in here."

  "I came down early and got my baking started. We have a few bachelors who are starting to rely on us for their bread and a few desserts, which is really wonderful. It's a good feeling when other people like your baking, and I'm so glad to bake for a living. It's a kind job."

  "You've had others that weren't?"

  "I've held a variety of jobs in the past, years ago, starting when Pa lost his business. But I was a barn cleaner at a dairy until I worked my way up to milkmaid. I worked in a canning business in Indiana, where I cleaned until I worked my way up into the office doing filing. This is better."

  "And suits you well." He didn't know how to tell her how beautiful she looked, that glow of happiness that quietly radiated from her. "You're not laughing at me, are you?"

  "I would never laugh at a lawman. You could arrest me." She grabbed a small individual box and slipped an frosted cinnamon treat inside. "I saw the whole thing, and I feared that you'd wounded yourself. If you'd walked straight into it, you would have hit your head and knocked yourself out."

  "No. You are mistaken, I meant to do that. It was no accident."

  "Denial looks good on you, Frisco." She admired the way self-control emanated from him like light from the sun.

  He had a classically handsome face, granite-strong and chiseled. A shock of brown hair tumbled down over his intelligent forehead, and she adored the way his eyes shone a good-humored deep blue. Freshly shaved, he had a strong, angled jaw and those dimples flirted with her, bracketing his good-natured grin. His mouth looked perfect, like a man who knew how to kiss a woman and make her toes curl, much less swoon.

  Not that she should be noticing that. Or thinking it! Attraction bubbled through her, a hot zing of fire that tugged deep in her abdomen. That made her blush and look away.

  "I may never recover from my embarrassment, so I appreciate being able to use denial to cover my moment of embarrassment. In truth, I used to get a lot of them in my old line of work. Once, when I was wondering if I recognized a wanted felon from a poster, I walked into the side of the mercantile. I was bruised for weeks."

  She chuckled, unable to hide the fact that he'd made her laugh. One of the things she found irresistible in him was his sense of humor. Go
od thing she knew to protect herself from liking Frisco, or she'd really start making a mistake and, boy, would she get hurt. Determined to keep her heart safe, she filled a mug with fresh coffee and pushed it across the counter to him, along with the sugar bowl.

  He plucked a couple of sugar cubes from the fancy floral china dish and stirred them in. The paper he'd set on the counter unfolded on its own slowly, flopping open to reveal another front page article.

  "What this?" She tugged the newspaper toward her to get a better glimpse at the headline. Her heart stopped dead at the photograph of her front window. "Bakery and sewing shop, a combination business, welcomes its newest customer."

  "Are they talking about Chester?" He dropped the spoon. It landed with a clatter on the wooden counter. Concerned, he straightened his wide shoulders. "Maybe it's a good article for you?"

  "That's one way to look at it, that it isn't embarrassing." She gulped, ignoring her own upset and focusing in on the way sincerity gentled his chiseled features and handsome face. "I want to get new customers, but when we first opened our shop, the newspaper just did a tiny little write up in the advertisement section and he was generous because it was free, but I didn't want to waste money. I should have splurged with a big advertisement campaign. Then he might not have ran this article. Or written it. Or made a joke in it."

  "The customer looked a little long in the face," Frisco read, a little stunned and amused at the same time. Dimples bracketed the corners of his mouth. He shook his head, leaning forward to read the whole article. "The real excitement started when Chester the pony opened the door with his mouth and walked into the shop. He was a little hoarse when asked about the experience, but after all was in very stable condition after his owners rode him back out onto the boardwalk. He said he was there to pick a gallop, since pretty ladies work there. We are sincerely hoping here, at the Alder Creek Herald, that Chester will have no night-mares from his shopping experience."

  She stuttered in surprise. "Wh-what are the neighbors going to think? What about the customers? They may never return upon realizing that we've had a horse in here."

  "A pony," Frisco corrected, hiding a laugh.

  10

  "But still! Everybody knows! And they're laughing at us!" Distress knocked through her, making her knees turn to jelly. "Was he making a joke of it?"

  "Oh, I think he was real amused."

  "Amused? This is my sisters' business. One reason I'm doing this is for them, so they don't have to work for unscrupulous or lecherous bosses." This was a disaster. All she could envision were people laughing uproariously everywhere over their morning coffee or throughout their day whenever they took time to read the local paper's latest edition. And right on the front page! There was no missing it! This was sure and total doom for their business. "Who will buy a loaf of bread from us now?"

  "Maybe it's not so bad."

  "Not so bad? We're going to be the laughingstock of the town."

  "Well, it is an entertaining article, and I'm sure the newspaper reporter meant no harm. After all, this is front page publicity and in the end, maybe you'll pick up a few more bachelors for your bakery. Maybe even a woman in need of a seamstress."

  "You approve of the article?"

  "Guilty as charged. I think it's good for business. You wait and see."

  "I'm a little afraid to, and I'm also a little afraid to trust your judgement."

  "Ah, I'm not so bad. You've got to learn to trust me, beautiful lady."

  "Well, you look intelligent. I guess I'll wait and see. It's not like I have much of a choice." She tried to sound stern, so he wouldn't know she was about to laugh and never stop, his dry sense of humor was infectious and she perfected that he didn't know how much she was charmed by him.

  This wasn't good, not good at all. But could she stop her heart from leaning toward him? From falling for him just a little?

  Nope, not even a little bit. Against her will, she grinned up at him, full of what could never be rightly called adoration, (although it was), and she was hoping it looked like cool tolerance, like a lady in control of her heart-felt emotions.

  "You're smiling, so I'm waiting for you to see that you should trust me more, pretty girl, because I'm a man who has seen a bit of this world and more than you have. Plus, I know the newspaper reporter and owner. And he's awfully good humored and very kind. This was meant kindly."

  "Okay, I trust you on that. So, why am I seeing doom?"

  "Because you are used to doom, huh? Tell me about that. Maybe it's because you are the daughter of a man I've heard has never been quite the same since he went bankrupt long ago. Not exactly a reliable father watching over his daughters. That takes a toll on the older child in the family, always having to be ultra-responsible and perhaps you've never learned not to worry quite so much."

  "If I don't worry, then we don't make our rent."

  "Now we're talking the truth." He took a sip of coffee, watching her carefully over the rim with caring sparkles in his dark blue eyes. Understanding ones. "I'm just trying to be helpful. As it turns out, I care more than I realize."

  "About my business?"

  "Not even close, sweetheart."

  Her forehead furrowed. "Do you mean me?"

  He gave a bark of laughter. He liked Jada's cluelessness very much. She had no idea, did she, how he felt. Charmed by that, he lifted the coffee cup and took another sip. It was flawlessly made and he would salute her, but he was more than happy to find out she knew her way with a coffee pot and could bake like a dream. His first wife was inept in the kitchen and he wound up with burned coffee full of coffee grounds all the time. Even when she tried, they snuck in there, always turning the cup bitter. "At least we're getting along better, you and me. Isn't that a good thing?"

  "I can't really complain." She shot him a shy smile, looking up through her eyelashes, long curly and dark brown, at him. He liked the kindness soft on her face. "It's always nice to be on a volunteer deputy's good side."

  "Do you know how you can stay there permanently?"

  "I'm afraid to ask."

  "My ma's birthday is coming up tomorrow." The golden glints in his blue eyes dazzled, catching her attention when he blinked. "She was terribly complimentary about your baked goods you sent home with the boys. I don't know if you do this kind of thing, and this is just occurring to me, but do you think you could bake one? I don't know if you make things to order or not, do you?"

  "This is a bakery, of course I do. If that's what your mother wants, then I can do my best. I know some good recipes," she quipped.

  "You do? I'm shocked."

  "At this bakery, we aim to please. And I do mean it. What does she want? I'll do all I can to make her the perfect cake."

  "Really? I adore you for that. I can never spoil my parents enough. They are so good to the boys and me."

  "Well, I can see your mother's helped out so much since you've been the sole caretaker of twin boys. That is a big job and aside from the pony incident, I've only had a positive opinion. And still do. It's actually funny. A little hoarse. That newspaperman is awful. I'm going to get the giggles and never stop."

  "It looks like you're seeing the bright end of this now. Look, there he is now pushing his cart down the boardwalk and giving the new edition out. What do you bet your story will make everybody's day? Life is somber. Laughter is the best medicine sometimes, aside from real medicine."

  "And so is a sweet cake or cookie, or pecan pie."

  "You're going to make my mother very happy."

  "Good, I like your mother and I haven't even met her yet, that I know of." Jada swept around the end of the counter, watching him with his heart on his sleeve.

  Yes, he feared that it showed. Just like the rapid fire beat of his heart and the kick of desire thrumming through his system that was getting too strident, too big, too much to hold back.

  Every movement she made shivered through him, jumbling him up inside. He was hardly aware of grabbing his bakery box, cup in h
and, and moving with her, stepping toward her, muddled and all on fire all at the same time. Normally this kind of reaction never happened to him. He was a tough guy who prided himself in his steely, steadfast self-control.

  Only she could tangle him up. It was a promising thing, and he was glad to know it. What he wanted was a real marriage, one with passion this time and a woman who put love, her love for him, above all else. He could just picture Jada, if he let himself, stretched out beside him in bed, all warm and soft and snuggly after lovemaking, after the lovemaking he wanted like air to breathe itself.

  The bell over the door jingled, announcing a customer. Nathan Meyers stepped through the doorway. The strapping bachelor gave a tip of his hat before sweeping it off in the presence of a lady. "Howdy, Frisco. Good to see you again, Miss Shepherd."

  "Welcome," she answered, arched a dainty eyebrow. "I see you've got today's edition of the newspaper in hand."

  "Well, it reminded me of the good bread you bake here. A notch better than the old standard the mercantile bakes. I may as well get two loaves, please." He stepped right up to the counter. "I see I'm not your first customer. That's a little box, Frisco. Not a big spender?"

  "I know, that's no way to impress the lady." His gaze shot to the woman, slipping behind the counter to wrap up two fresh, delicious smelling loaves of white bread. He did his best not to imagine what the heat of her kiss against his lips would feel like. Or to acknowledge the thundering desire roaring through him, rolling like winter thunder through a charcoal sky. He quirked a brow at Jada. "Do I have a chance of that, pretty lady?"

  "Nope, not even once. I'm impervious to your charm, and you cannot impress me. Then again, if I were, I might never admit it." Mischief twinkled in her periwinkle eyes as she handed Nathan his change. "Thanks for coming by, Mr. Meyers."

  The kindly bachelor swept his hat back onto his head. "Glad to be here, enjoyed the article immensely. Man, it was funny. Have a fine day."

  "You, too." Jada looked surprised, sweetly so. "You come back any time."

 

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