Wanted: Fairy Godmother

by Laurie LeClair

  Callie entered the small, compact tack room. The pungent mixture of saddle soap and leather brought a rush of bittersweet memories flooding back.

  Noticing him, she whispered, “Jake?”

  His answering grunt assured her he wasn’t asleep.

  Stepping near, she gingerly moved his hat, resting it on the back of his head. She fixated on his dilated pupils. Pain etched the depths. “Another headache?”

  “Uh huh.”

  A hand squeezed her heart in sympathy. “Let me help you.” Walking behind him, she removed his cowboy hat, tossing it to the nearby worktable. It hit with a dull thud.

  She hesitated a moment, rubbing her fingers across her palms. The task at hand proved daunting. How could she touch him without giving away her growing feelings?

  “Well?”

  Startled, Callie chuckled at herself. “Relax,” she said softly, placing her fingertips on his hot, damp skin. Slowly, she massaged his temples; the tight tense muscles spasmed at the contact.

  She longed to lean forward and drop a kiss on the top of his head, soothing away his pain. But she caught herself in the nick of time.

  Instead, she talked to him in a low voice. “You know, you try too hard teaching the guys. Face it, Jake: the three of them won’t ever make up one of you.” She felt his whole body stiffen. “Hear me out before you get defensive on me.”

  Gently, she pulled his head to her bosom. Sinking her fingers into his thick, dark hair, she rubbed his tight scalp. Warmth pooled in her center; a well of caring followed, plucking at her tender heart. He groaned softly, causing a swift tide of heat to sweep through her veins.

  Clearing her throat, she said, “As I was saying, the boys are like ships lost at sea. They need an anchor to secure them in place. You and I can be that for them.” I want what they need.

  Jake moved so fast it startled her. One moment, he rested against her, apparently enjoying her ministrations. The next moment, he dropped the chair back on all four legs and rocketed out of his seat. Now, he stood facing her with a scowl on his features.

  “If that’s a proposal, then I ain’t biting, lady.”

  “Proposal?” Disbelief shafted through her. Does he think I’m no different than the other women chasing him?

  He frowned. A puzzled expression crossed his face. “Well, didn’t you just ask me to marry you?”

  “No.”

  “Lovers, then?” Was that hope she heard in his voice?

  She shook her head. His comical, quizzical look nearly had her laughing out loud.

  He dragged a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Then exactly what did you mean?”

  She swallowed hard, fighting the powerful urge to demand those rights to him he’d suggested. “Teamwork, that’s all,” she said instead. “You and I need to be on the same side in order to help the boys and, in turn, help you.”

  “I thought we already were.”

  “You say that but it hasn’t felt like that to any one of us lately.” She saw the frown reappear and tried to explain. “The boys feel abandoned since their parents died. They’ve been uprooted from all that is familiar to them. They’re lost, adrift.”

  He groaned in understanding. “I guess I haven’t done much right by them.”

  Putting a lighthearted touch on the issue, Callie said, “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. As head of the family, you had the great wisdom to hire the very best fairy godmother in the land.”

  He chuckled, and then laughed outright, sending a warm glow straight to Callie’s core. “Is that right? So, Fairy Godmother, what do you suggest we do as ‘anchors’?”

  “Well, Cowboy,” she said, leaning over and snatching up his hat. “First of all, we make them feel welcome and needed, make them feel at home.” Bowing slightly, she handed him his hat with a flourish.

  Jake grinned, grabbing the Stetson and then settling it on his head. “And how do you suppose we do that, Fairy Godmother?”

  His playful tone had hope surging through her body. “Shall we?” she asked, linking her arm through his and guiding him out of the room and down the long center corridor of the barn. Squashing down on the bubbling sensations in her at the close contact, Callie went on, “Do you ever notice how they stop talking the moment you enter the room they’re in?”

  He shrugged. “I figured they just wanted some privacy.”

  “It’s more likely they’re walking on eggshells around people, especially you.”

  “Why me?” He halted, turning toward her.

  Looking up into his dark, magnetic eyes, Callie felt her head spin and her heartbeat clamor in her chest. Reluctantly, she pulled her attention back to his cousins. “You have the ability to change their lives like that.” She snapped her fingers. “They’re unsure of their status around you. My advice is for you to be more accessible to them. Talk to them, listen to what they think and feel. You’d be amazed at what great young men they are: bright, warm, funny.”

  A dark scowl formed on his features. “I’ve done all I can for them. That’s why I hired you. I can’t play nursemaid. I’ve got a championship to get ready for. This is my last shot at the title and I’m not going to let anything stand in my way, understand?”

  Callie crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping she’d be able to say the right words, in just the right way, so he’d come around. “I’ve got the perfect solution to everyone’s problem. Why don’t you let the guys help you prepare for the rodeo circuit? Stan can tap into the computer and get all the statistics on the bulls you have to ride. You know, like what they’ll do when they get in the ring, which way they’re most likely to turn, and that kind of stuff.”

  “That’s on a computer?” Disbelief and amazement colored his words.

  “Sure. Stan can access anything. Didn’t you know he’s a genius when it comes to computers?”

  He chuckled. “That’s what they tell me. Maybe I’ve underestimated the value of one of those contraptions.”

  Callie smiled, thinking he’d definitely give it a try. “And don’t forget Lance can help with your diet. You’ll need lots of carbohydrates for energy and stamina.”

  “And what do you propose Marvin does? Come up with some newfangled invention?” The edge of sarcasm wasn’t lost on her.

  “As a matter of fact, he can work on a better design for a flak jacket. One that will protect that bum shoulder of yours.” She felt the ripple of shock that raced over him. The temperature changed from balmy to arctic with the rise in tension emitting from him.

  “How did you find out about my shoulder?”

  She brushed it aside, directing him to continue their walk down the aisle. She didn’t dare divulge the guys’ eavesdropping as her source. “Come on, it isn’t a great big secret, is it? Getting thrown, breaking your collarbone, severely re-injuring your bad shoulder, and being sidelined in mid-season last year must have been devastating to you. It’s only natural you’d want to come back with a vengeance, tearing up the circuit. So, what do you say? Do it in style with the help of your family.” She held her breath, praying he’d agree.

  He sighed heavily. “You’ve presented a very convincing case. One I’m having a hard time saying no to. So, where do you fit into all of this?”

  Her heart leapt. She longed to tell him just exactly where she’d love to belong. In a family. At Gramps’ ranch. Instead, she answered, “Why, I’ll be the one waving the magic wand, of course.”

  “Ahhh…the supervisor.”

  She giggled. “That’s what I’m best at.”

  “Really?” His voice took on a dark, seductive quality.

  Quivers of delight rippled along her flesh. Heat licked at her, teasing her. Chancing a peek at him, Callie nearly lost her breath at the light of passion shining in his eyes.

  “Tell me, Callie, do you like to supervise everything? Aren’t there some things that you just can’t control?”

  His honey-wrapped voice brought images dancing in her mind: images of Jake and her, images so power
ful they shook her to her core.

  A sudden rumbling commotion in the distance grew louder.

  Jake froze in his tracks. “Did you hear that?” The noise, like rolling thunder, came again. Icy, lightning-quick fear shot through his chest. “Big Red!”

  “Your bull?”

  Without answering, Jake clamped a hand on her wrist, tugging her along behind him as he raced out of the barn. “I need you to get the boys out of the way while I divert the bull. We’ll worry about getting him back in the pen later.”

  Gasping for air, Jake spotted Les riding Big Red. The bull turned and twisted, trying to unseat his best friend. The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood on end at the sight.

  “I thought he was loose,” Callie said, breathing hard beside him.

  Reluctantly, Jake released Callie, and then turned to an approaching Gus. “What in the hell is he doing? Doesn’t he have enough sense to stay clear of Red?” He couldn’t keep the growing alarm from his voice.

  “Now, Jake,” Gus said in soothing tones. “I tried to talk him out of it. Truly, I did. But the boy’s just showing off for the little filly over there.” He pointed his thumb to the opposite rail.

  Jake followed the direction and cursed under his breath. Short, squat Mort Ketchum straddled the top rail and his pretty red-haired daughter, Sissy, stood transfixed beside him. “If he’s trying to kill himself and win her favor, he’s doing a damn good job of it.”

  Callie moved near, brushing up against his arm, lending her unspoken support. For the first time in a long time, Jake didn’t feel completely, utterly alone. There was a woman willing to stand by his side, for his sake, to assist him. Jake clamped down on the overwhelming sensations pooling inside him and tried to concentrate on his friend.

  “He’s barely hanging on,” Callie whispered under her breath.

  “Hey, Jake,” Lance shouted, waving his arms in the air as he took up a place a few feet away alongside his brother. He nodded to the bull shoot nearby. “You gonna ride for us next?”

  Whether the noise or the action spooked the bull, Jake couldn’t say, but the animal reared sharply, tossing Lester in the air. Instead of hitting the ground, Les dangled at the bull’s side, his gloved hand entangled in the rope.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus,” Jake said under his breath, swiftly climbing the railing, and then vaulting over the top. The landing jarred him, but he remained in motion, quickly rushing to the irate twelve-hundred-pound bull.

  Les bounced around, slapping the animal’s side as if he were nothing more than a rag doll.

  Jake felt hands shoving him to his friend’s aid. He twisted around. Panic mushroomed, threatening to explode. “Callie, get out of here now!”

  “No! You get Les untied while I keep the bull away from spearing you.”

  He didn’t have time to argue the point. Visions of Big Red trampling Callie surfaced. Raw, consuming panic seized him. Perspiration bathed his body. A world of responsibility rested on his shoulders.

  Moving quickly to Les and with careful synchronized steps, Jake zeroed in, grabbing a flopping Les with his right arm. The bull bucked, slamming his body weight into Jake. He grunted at the impact.

  “Get out of here before he takes you down,” Les hollered, yanking his hand from under the tight rope. His palm came free of the glove, but his fingers stayed trapped, the twine cutting into the soft rawhide.

  “I’m not leaving unless you’re with me, got it?” With an effort, Jake blocked and maneuvered away from the bull’s bucks and jerks. His Stetson flew off, sailing through the air and falling near the back of the bull. “This is gonna hurt some,” he warned, and then ripped his friend’s fingers loose.

  Les muttered a colorful oath aimed at Jake.

  “You can thank me later. Now hightail it out of here.” Jake shoved his friend toward the rail, and then turned to see the bull bearing down on Callie. His heart dropped to the tips of his boots.

  Racing to the animal’s shoulder first, Jake rammed into the bull’s side. Big Red’s bellow of pain didn’t compare to the shaft of white-hot agony slicing through Jake. Pushing past the blinding torment, he rushed to Callie’s defense. Without thinking, he scooped her up by the waist, gripping her to his chest.

  “Jake, hurry, he’s right behind us,” Callie cried in his ear as her arms tightened around his neck, smothering him in the heady scent of wildflowers.

  He dashed to the rail as if Satan himself were biting at his heels. “Wrap your legs around me,” he shouted. Instantly, she obeyed.

  He climbed the rail in a flash as Big Red’s hot, angry breath touched the back of his legs. After clearing the top, Jake lost his balance and toppled to the ground. He twisted in mid-air, hoping to avoid crushing her. Callie’s legs and arms went slack, her hands pushing at his shoulders just before she landed heavily on him, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  The force of the impact jarred him, causing Jake to roll with her until they stopped several feet away with Callie beneath him. All her curves melded perfectly with his hard angles, accepting him.

  “Are you all right?” Her voice sounded so far away.

  Sucking in gulps of precious air, he could only nod, her shoulder cushioning his throbbing head. With his strength returning, Jake lifted himself so now he stared into her wide, troubled gaze.

  “Did I hurt you, honey?”

  She shook her head, looking dumbfounded and fighting shock.

  Awe at what she’d done for him robbed him of his senses. Tenderly, he caressed her satiny cheek, and then dragged his thumb over her rosy lips. Captivated, he stopped once he came to the full middle part of her bottom lip.

  He lowered his head, gently tasting her. The soft, tender flesh nearly drove him mad. Warmth engulfed Jake, warmth and stunned wonder. She tastes like paradise. He wished it would never end.

  Suddenly, jerked back to the present and away from Callie, Jake found himself surrounded. Several pairs of hands reached out, first to haul him to his feet, and then to gingerly lift Callie.

  A cacophony of voices, all jockeying to be heard, crashed down on him. One voice, high-pitched and squeaky, rose above the rest.

  “Look what Big Red’s doing!”

  He jerked his gaze to the pen at Lance’s request. Staring in disbelief, Jake locked gazes with the huge, snorting animal as the bull defecated in Jake’s beloved Stetson.

  Chapter 9

  The sound of pots and pans clanking together caused Jake to groan as knife-like pain bolted through his skull. Rolling over on his belly, he buried his splitting head under his feather pillow. Clutching the edges to his ears, he tried to shut out the deafening racket coming from the kitchen.

  The makeshift cocoon only made him more aware of the persistent throbbing in his temple.

  One week of late-night poker games, indulging in beer guzzling, and shots of good Kentucky bourbon brought him to this regrettable position, he admitted ruefully, mentally kicking himself for the latest hangover. In his quest to blot out Callie and her troublesome effect on his senses, he’d only made his situation worse.

  “Callie,” he whispered huskily, savoring the sound of her name on his lips. A sweet, urgent ache swept through his body.

  He wanted Callie Andrews. His body knew it right from the start. But his mind shunned the obvious; he needed her to play fairy godmother. The duel played havoc on him, tearing him in two.

  By nonverbal, mutual consent, Callie and he had agreed not to push the boundaries as they had with that incredible kiss. That kiss, the softest and sweetest he’d ever experienced, replayed itself. He groaned aloud, feeling her ready response all over again.

  He tossed the pillow aside in disgust and turned over onto his back. Looking at the white painted ceiling, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and then dragged a hand over his stubbled jaw. Making love with Callie would ruin all his cleverly laid plans. He had to follow his gypsy soul.

  With the realization that he couldn’t have her firmly planted in his mind, Jake closed
his eyes. He smiled as a tantalizing daydream whispered into his mind. He caressed the silkiest skin. He followed with a sprinkling of kisses, dipping his tongue into her sexy little navel. The fantasy lady gasped sharply as he touched the taut rosebud topping her full luscious breast. Inhaling, he relished the heady scent of wildflowers.

  “Wildflowers?”

  The dream halted abruptly like a freeze-framed image. Scrutinizing the vision of loveliness, Jake surveyed her from toe to head. He stopped short when Callie’s beautiful, heart-shaped face came into view.

  Shock sliced through Jake’s body, jarring him from his alluring apparition. “Damn woman,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “And damn wildflowers.” Breathing in deeply to quiet his boiling libido, he sniffed the acrid air.

  Jake bolted upright. The snowy-white sheet dropped from his naked chest and pooled at his hips. Trying to clear the fog from his brain, he stilled, senses fully alert. “What in the world? Something’s burning!”

  Jumping out of bed, Jake didn’t stop to drag on his rumpled pair of jeans. “Callie!

  Following his nose, Jake rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, his heart in his throat. He stopped dead in his tracks. Four pairs of wide eyes fastened on him.

  “Jake,” Callie said. Her gaze traveled the length of him. A red blush colored her cheeks.

  His abdomen tightened. His pulse beat a wild tempo. Hadn’t she ever seen a man in his boxer briefs before? he wondered, intrigued and turned on beyond description by her intent, hungry stare. He rubbed a hand over his chest and watched Callie’s interest peak. Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly as her gaze followed his hand downward to his hard, flat stomach.

  “Oh, no,” Lance cried, shoving a smoking frying pan under the running faucet.

  A loud, lingering hiss permeated the air, along with a clinging, charred odor and a puff of gray smoke.