by Mindy Neff
“That won’t be necessary.” His voice sounded winded, yet he didn’t appear to be struggling with Annie’s weight.
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Slowly, his gaze lifted from her behind. “And while we’re in town, we’re definitely getting you some underwear.”
Chapter Eight
“Do you know where you’re going?” Jordan asked as they strolled down a street that could have doubled as a backdrop for a Western. The sidewalks were wood plank, for heaven’s sake.
The quaint little town was just west of Yosemite. They’d left Annie and her puppies at the local animal clinic where Dr. Eldon had shooed them out of his way, telling them he needed elbowroom to work. He’d have a better idea of the animals’ health in about an hour.
In the meantime, he’d given them a list of supplies they’d need on hand if they were going to keep the dogs.
Jordan had been adamant that they would.
Tanner hadn’t even batted an eye.
And for that, his tally of assets had skyrocketed in a flash. Randall would have had a fit, launched into an immediate argument. Of course, he did have his allergies to consider.
“The general store just up ahead,” Tanner replied. “Where the old codger’s keeping guard.”
Jordan saw the frail man who was sitting in an ancient rocking chair. As they approached, the chair creaked to a halt. Watery blue eyes, drooping at the corners yet shrewd, watched them.
“Howdy folks. Stop by for a visit?”
“Just passing through,” Tanner said.
“Well, come closer. Let me have a look, make sure you ain’t one of them suckers on the Most Wanted list what hangs in the post-office window.”
“You have Wanted posters in your post office?” Jordan asked, intrigued.
“Yep. And I aim to collect me a reward one of these days. Nobody’s gonna beat old Hiram Birkenshire out of that money.”
Dutifully, Tanner and Jordan moved closer. The old man frowned, then nodded—somewhat sadly, it appeared.
“Don’t look criminal-like. I’ll give you a good piece of advice, though. Stay clear of them old biddies down to the veterans hall. Damn women’ll call the sheriff on pretty near everybody—even their own kin.”
“Why’s that?” She saw Tanner stiffen and touched a hand to his arm. She knew he didn’t want them drawing attention to themselves, but she doubted they had anything to fear from old Hiram.
“They figure on beatin’ me to the reward money. Course, you might escape their notice today.”
He paused, obviously waiting for someone to voice a curiosity. Tanner didn’t look all that interested—he still appeared to be debating the wisdom of their trip to town—but Jordan was charmed by the old man. “What’s so special about today?”
“Talent-show rehearsal. Fool women are all dressed up like those derelict chickens on the commercial. Telling foul jokes no decent God-fearing woman should even know about.”
He snorted, and bobbed his nearly bald head.
Jordan smothered a laugh. She noticed that Tanner’s expression had eased into amusement. “Foul?”
“Well, dirty foul or chicken fowl, take your pick. I tell you, it ain’t right.” The old man pinned Jordan with a look. “You steer clear, missy, ya hear? A young thing like you shouldn’t hear such talk.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. You here to shop?”
“Yes.”
“Well, go on in. Thelma’ll see to your needs. Now there’s a woman who’s got some sense to her—though she can be a might uppity.” Hiram looked at Tanner. “You get tired of pokin’ around in the store, come on back out here and sit a spell.”
Tanner nodded. “I will. If not this trip, then the next.”
“That’ll do. I ain’t going no place.”
Tanner gripped Jordan’s elbow and steered her into a general store that seemed to carry everything from pickles to toilet-bowl chains.
Instead of the baby bottles and dog food the vet had instructed them to get, Tanner went straight to the women’s apparel section. When she saw the package he reached for, she had to object on principle.
“That’s not the right size.”
He glanced down at her jeans, and she nearly rolled her eyes. She’d certainly had enough sense to change her clothes before coming to town—and to wear the single pair of panties she possessed.
He stuffed the package back on the shelf, and grabbed the next size.
“Give me that, for heaven’s sake.” She snatched the serviceable cotton briefs out of his hands. “I’m twenty-seven, not eighty-seven. And although I appreciate a cotton strip in the crotch, I prefer nylon or silk against my behind.”
“Duchess, you’re playing with fire here. You pick out some sexy undies and that’s all I’m gonna be able to think about. Be smart and go for the all-cotton jobs. The big ones.”
As though in silent battle, their gazes locked. Jordan knew better than to engage in this type of sparring, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She kept losing sight of her dilemma—that her life had been threatened. Instead, she continually slipped into complacency, feeling as though she were on some glorious adventure.
It might be wrong, but it felt good.
“If the thought of knowing what kind of underwear I’m buying is a problem for you, wait outside.”
“Somebody’s got to pay for the merchandise.”
“I’ll pay for them...well, I’ll pay you back, at least.” She held out her palm. “Just give me the money and either step outside or close your eyes. You shouldn’t even be in this particular department in the first place. Just look at that woman over there. She’s scandalized.”
His dimple winked and this time his lips curved up to match it. He never took his eyes off her. “What am I going to do with you, Blackie?”
Keep me, she wanted to say. Take me away from obligations and shaky finances and a promise to spend my life tied to a man I don’t love. Smile at me. Just like that—like I’m someone really special.
Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face. He reached out and touched her cheek. For a minute she thought he was going to kiss her—right here in the middle of Thelma’s general store with the other customers looking on.
Insides quivering, she stepped back. “We have shopping to do.”
Tanner noticed that they were drawing attention. There were only two other women in the store, but the heat he imagined was sparking between him and Jordan was bound to create a lasting impression. If anyone came snooping around, giving a description of Jordan, the people here were likely to remember her.
Damn. What was it about this woman that made him forget all his training, the lessons he’d learned in life, both the hard way and through careful instruction?
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a wad of bills, not bothering to count them. Taking Jordan’s hand, he placed the cash in her palm. “Buy what you need. I’ll be outside with Hiram.”
She looked at the money, tried to hand it back. “I can’t take this.”
“We need supplies. Generally that requires money.”
“Is this all you’ve got?”
His brows shot up before he could check the expression. “I think that’ll cover anything you need.”
“No, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant... Oh, forget it. I’ll just get the basics, the least amount that we can get by on. I can work within a budget.”
He beat back the frustration that nearly made him blurt out that there was plenty more where that came from. He knew she was worried that he’d just given her every cent to his name.
“Forget the budget. Just buy what you need.” He turned on his heel, knowing he had to get out of here. The way she jutted out that sweet chin, telling him she could stay within a budget—almost as if she were daring him to find fault—made him want to sweep her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her.
And that would definitely create a lasting impression in this little town. As w
ell as a memory that he’d never get out of his mind.
As a precaution against her thriftiness, he loaded a basket with food supplies, both practical and impractical—everybody needed a chocolate bar now and again—and set the goods on the counter.
The woman behind the cash register lifted arthritic hands over the keys. “Will this do it for you, dearie?”
“Hold off for a few minutes,” he advised. “My wife’s still shopping.” The minute he said the word, his stomach jolted up to somewhere near his throat. As misdirection, the word was a good idea. And, man alive, what he wouldn’t give if only she were his wife.
But she belonged to another man. He had to keep telling himself that. Even though he didn’t like it one bit.
The first thing he was going to do when they got back to the lake house, was to call Sonny.
Tanner needed action, progress...an end to this bodyguarding stint. Otherwise, his heart wasn’t going to survive.
The bells over the screen door jingled as he let himself out of the store. Hiram perked up, his rocker stopping in mid-creak.
His bald head bobbed. “Had you pegged for a smart man. Shoppin’s woman’s work. Course, left to their own devices, they can get carried away. Ain’t that just like ’em, though. Now, my Letty—she’s passed on, God rest her soul—why, she was always wantin’ to go on up to the Sears for a new hat or some such frippery. ’Bout put me in the poorhouse a time or two.”
Tanner leaned against the wooden post that supported the roof overhang. The way old Hiram rambled on, it was clear he was lonely. And the man probably didn’t miss a thing that went on in town.
Although he didn’t have much experience with women spending his money, and he doubted there was one around who could put him in the “poorhouse,” as Hiram called it, Tanner nodded. “Never met one yet who didn’t like to shop.”
“My condolences. Your missus is a purdy little thing.” Hiram winked. “My Letty was a looker, too. S’pect you’re a lot like me and don’t mind much about the money.”
Again, Tanner felt a jolt at the reference to Jordan as his wife. “I don’t mind.”
“Where’s that motorcycle of yours?”
Tanner straightened as though someone had jerked a chain attached to his spine. So much for keeping a low profile. And with the way Hiram liked to talk, chances were the man would pass along any tidbit of information if asked.
Even to a couple of yokels in a garish hippie van.
Yes, there’d been times he’d just driven aimlessly, usually after he’d tortured himself by coming too close to Grazer’s Corners—and to Jordan. He’d passed through this town before. It had been a while, though; several years, in fact. He’d found an injured calico cat on the side of the road, had ridden through town in search of a vet.
That was how he’d known Dr. Eldon practiced here. He didn’t recall seeing Hiram, though.
“Don’t get many outsiders around these parts.” Hiram leaned forward in his chair. Tanner had an urge to steady the frail man, but resisted. Pride was a fierce thing. “I recognized you, seen you riding through. If you don’t mind my sayin’ so, son, you could stand a visit to the barber shop. Not that I’m passin’ judgment, you understand.”
Tanner shrugged, the corners of his mouth kicking up. “The ladies like it.”
Hiram cackled. “I reckon you’re okay. Nothing in the world wrong with a healthy ego. My Letty never made a peep about me lookin’, either. Long as I didn’t handle the merchandise. She’d have gotten the twelve-gauge after me. Course, any fool can tell you’re crazy about your missus.”
Tanner wasn’t used to being so transparent. He’d have to be more careful. Through the screen door, he saw Jordan at the counter in animated conversation with Thelma. He noticed the way her gaze strayed to the telephone on the wall.
To cover his roiling emotions, he shared a man-to-man smile with Hiram, then pulled open the screen door.
“Sweetheart? We need to get moving.”
She gave him a startled look—a look that segued into both guilt and challenge when she realized he’d seen her eyeing the phone.
As though dismissing him, she went right back to chatting with Thelma. Tanner wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. He’d half expected her to turn up her nose at the simple store—it was a far cry from Nordstroms.
But Jordan kept surprising him. She seemed to fit in anywhere. He’d noticed that at Gatlin’s, then out at the lake, and now here. Unlike most of her friends, she didn’t put on airs.
Why was it so easy for her? What did she know about life that he hadn’t yet learned? Over the years, he’d trained himself to pretend to fit in. Away from Grazer’s Corners, no one knew the pitiful stock he’d come from. So the act came easy. Here, in this small town where the people were unpretentious, he didn’t have to act.
Other than masquerading as a married man.
But that was for Jordan’s safety—not as a balm to the shame of his roots.
“Other than the VFW ladies impersonating chickens, have you noticed any other strange characters around lately?” It wasn’t likely that anyone would come this far looking for them, especially to a town that wasn’t even a speck on the map. If he’d thought so, he never would have let Jordan come with him to find the vet. Still, he liked to cover all the bases.
Hiram’s shrewd blue eyes sharpened. “You in some kind of trouble, boy?”
He wasn’t sure how much to give away. “My wife and I are on our honeymoon. There were a couple of jokers at the wedding who thought it would be fun to follow us out of town. I think we gave them the slip...but, you know how it is. I’d hate to have rice in the sheets or serenaders outside my hotel at three in the morning.”
“Well, danged if a man doesn’t need privacy on his honeymoon. Congratulations, by the way. What’s the description?”
“VW bus. Dorky yellow flowers painted on the side.”
“Nope. I’d remember something like that, just like I remember that loud motorcycle you was driving a while back. Trade it in on the Jeep, did ya?”
“I’ve still got the bike.”
“Good for you. A man’s gotta keep possession of his toys. If those weddin’ crashers show up, you can be sure I won’t tell ’em diddly-squat. A body can act real vague and senile when he’s of a mind.”
Tanner’s lips quirked into a grin. “I appreciate it.”
“Us men gotta stick together. Thelma!” he bellowed. “You gonna jaw all afternoon? Turn that filly loose. Her man’s out here waiting in the hot sun. And I could use a spot of tonic, while you’re at it. That Wild Turkey’ll do me just fine right about now. Bring it on out here.” He cackled and slapped his knee.
Tanner braced himself. The woman behind the cash register—Thelma—didn’t strike him as a “Go fetch” sort of woman. He wondered if it might be best all around if he stepped out of the line of fire.
Through the screen door, he saw Thelma shuffle out from behind the counter. Though arthritis made her movements slow, determination fairly crackled in her every step.
“Now you’ve done it,” Tanner said. “A smart man would plead insanity right about now. I know I would.”
Hiram enjoyed another cackle.
“Damn your eyes, you old fossil.” The screen door screeched open. “You holler any louder an’ Sheriff Trahune’ll be whippin’ up a dust getting over here to see about the ruckus.” She slapped an ice-cold bottle in Hiram’s hand. “Mind the door, darlin’,” she said to Jordan, who had her arms full of grocery sacks.
Tanner reached out to get the door and took the bags from her. Her amusement had him struggling to hold back his own smile. Both Hiram and Thelma had booming voices. They didn’t appear to care who heard their bickering.
“Now, Thelma,” Hiram complained. “If I’d wanted Coca-Cola, I’d’ve asked for it. Jawin’s thirsty work, ya know.”
Thelma harrumphed. “You just drink that soda pop and be thankful I’m in a mood for charity. Wild Turkey, indeed.” She perche
d her hands on her ample hips. “I’ll not have you drunk as a coyote on my front stoop. Next thing, you’d be holding me accountable for you missing out on the bingo game down at the schoolhouse.”
Hiram shook his head. “Ain’t got no notion of goin’ down to the schoolhouse. Poker,” he declared, working his lips in and out over toothless gums. “Now there’s a game a man could sink his teeth into. Ain’t that right, son?” he asked, spearing Tanner with a look.
Tanner stepped behind Jordan as if to use her as a shield. “Don’t drag me into this.”
“I ain’t askin’ you to play, boy. Just to agree. Man’s gotta take a stand, else the womenfolk’ll have it all their way. Best you learn that right off, ’specially in these early days of your marriage.”
Jordan’s head whipped around so fast, her hair smacked him in the face. “Marriage?” Stunned confusion colored the single word.
Hiram leaned forward in his chair, his spat with Thelma put on hold as he picked up on the undercurrents between the “newlyweds.”
Tanner was more than happy to run damage control. He leaned down and covered her startled lips with his own. He felt the immediate softening, then resistance. Before she could do anything else to give them away, he pulled back and winked.
“Looks like I need to do a better job of helping you remember you’re a new bride. Ready to head for the hotel?”
Her green eyes widened as she apparently caught on. “Oh. Don’t be silly, darling. With Daddy so opposed to our marriage, I just hadn’t realized you’d told anyone. Besides, I could never forget our wedding... or our wedding night.”
Tanner shifted the grocery sacks to cover the effect her words had on his body. That sassy mouth kept surprising him. And if his arms hadn’t been full, he’d have ended up causing a scandal, right here on the sidewalk in front of Thelma’s general store.
The only thing that kept his control in check was her reference to her daddy’s objections—which was more truth than fiction.
And despite his cloak of armor, the reminder hurt.
Like the unsuitability of a marriage of Capulet and Montague, a Caldwell and Grazer union would never be accepted.
