CJ tugged her arm as Jonah led her through the hotel foyer, thankfully absent of curious onlookers, and into the darkened hallway that led toward the back of the hotel.
“I owe you no explanation!” CJ spat. She wondered if she looked like the mangy barn cat that hissed at her every morning.
Jonah stopped and propped CJ against the wall. A lone lamp hung above them on a gold-gilded, cast-iron arm. It flickered, and shadows danced across Jonah’s face. He held her by her shoulders, communicating once and for all that he was in charge.
“What were you doing with Mr. Lloyd?”
CJ tilted her chin up. With Jonah’s head tipped down, there was a mere inch between their lips. The British transplant of a lord didn’t bother to draw back and give proper distance.
Was he afraid of losing his foreman to another rancher? Or was it something else? Was it something more personal that made his blue eyes burn with a fiery ice? No. Absolutely not. CJ struggled to bring her thoughts back to reason.
“I was making you a fine passel of money, that’s what I was doing.”
Jonah snorted. It surprised her. CJ had never heard him laugh with derision. It unnerved her.
“Mr. Lloyd, yes? What did he offer you? That he’d accept the mustangs wild and unbroken?”
CJ had that nagging squeeze in her stomach that prophesied she’d made a dreadful error.
“And did he offer you a position at his ranch?”
How did he know? CJ averted her gaze. He didn’t need to be so bullish about it. She brought her eyes back and looked at him square.
“I might be more appreciated there.” They might as well have it out here and now.
Jonah released a sardonic chuckle. “Oh yes. I’m sure he would appreciate you. The same way he appreciates the horses he buys. He offered you a paltry sum, I suppose?”
CJ had no intention of naming the figure she’d agreed upon now. Not with Jonah, so high and mighty, planting the first real vestiges of humbled doubt in her heart. She hadn’t made an error. She hadn’t! But presenting Jonah with the potential contract of purchase didn’t seem so enticing now. CJ replayed her conversation with Mr. Lloyd in her mind. She recalled Mr. Lloyd’s flattery. It ministered to her deepest need. The need for appreciation, respect, and value.
Jonah didn’t have to explain further. She had made a horrible blunder.
“Never. Again.” Jonah bent closer.
Their eyes were level. CJ could smell cinnamon on his breath.
“I can do my job, Jonah,” CJ argued. Maybe she had made a mistake, but she wasn’t going to admit defeat to this man. She was tired of him commandeering her into a little corner. CJ wished she were in her trousers. They made her feel more powerful, more competitive with him. In her flowing blush dress, she was anything but powerful. She was… a woman, with dreams and hopes, planted firmly in the soles of her cowboy boots. She was both a hardworking rancher and a lady. Why couldn’t someone appreciate all of her instead of only the side that reflected what they felt she should be?
“I’m not a ninny.”
Jonah’s chest rose and fell as he breathed. Silence enveloped the shaded hallway. CJ could feel the dark green wallpaper against the bare skin on the back of her arms. He seemed to contemplate her words—or maybe his. As if he weighed his response. When it came, CJ’s own breaths increased as realization curled its pride-damaging truth around her soul.
“Mr. Lloyd brokers deals for unbroken ponies with gullible ranchers who don’t understand numbers. He obviously knows I’m not of that sad little lot, so he approached you. And, outside of that, his men break the mustangs with an abusive hand and then he sells them to anyone and everyone to make what he can, regardless of the welfare of the horse. And I can only imagine what he would do with a woman foreman. Foreman? No. It would go far worse for you.” Jonah’s voice deepened to an insistent and perturbed whisper. He gave CJ’s shoulders a slight shake. “In addition, I have already signed a contract with the United States Cavalry at Fort Weatherby for the mustangs. They are already sold, and I would wager it’s for triple whatever Mr. Lloyd offered you.”
CJ blinked. Speechless. There was no recovering from this now. Jonah would never respect her, never trust her word or her worth.
He leaned even closer. There was something in his eyes, in his expression, that told CJ he wanted to say so much more. Things she ached for him to say and words she would hate him for later.
“I didn’t know.” She needed him to believe her. She was ruining all chances of future trust in her abilities… and maybe more.
“Exactly.” Jonah gave his head a slight jerk of affirmation. “You didn’t know. Did you shake hands with the man?”
“Of course not.” CJ was glad she had spared herself that humiliation. “I know enough to know that it would take you to make the buy final.” It pained her to admit that, but he was the owner. Did Mr. Lloyd think she would use her womanly wiles and seduction to win Jonah’s favor in agreeing to the price? That had to be it. Mr. Lloyd had no more respect for her than a gambler had for church.
“Not that your word would stand.” Jonah’s mutter interrupted her humiliation. His hands still palmed her shoulders and held her against the wall.
“Because I’m a woman?” CJ couldn’t help herself. The angst, the frustration rose in her. Maybe she’d been wrong, maybe she had almost made a horrendous error, maybe—she was loathe to admit—maybe she had underestimated Jonah’s exceptional business sense. But she was tired of not being taken seriously.
Jonah released one shoulder, and to CJ’s surprise, he toyed with a curl that whisper-kissed her cheek. “No. Because you’re my employee and I protect my own as much as I protect my horses.”
CJ held her breath as Jonah pushed the curl away.
He leaned forward until his lips were against her ear, and his whisper teased her senses. “Because, Roadrunner, you’re an exceptional woman with a horrible sense of business.”
CJ swallowed and tried to ignore his breath that tickled her cheek. “You’ve given me no recourse but self-preservation.” It was true, but hard to argue when his eyes suddenly went tender. It was an expression she’d never seen before in the ranch owner.
“Perhaps I was merely attempting to protect you from devious minds like Mr. Lloyd who have intentions only to manipulate and abuse. Horses and women.”
CJ mentally berated herself. She’d been duped. She was so much smarter and wiser than that. Her father had taught her to be savvy; Charlie had trained her to be tough. Instead, tonight, in her effort to prove herself to Jonah, she had turned into a simpering woman who wilted beneath some well-placed words of a master rogue.
“I—can do my job.” Was her argument so paltry now that Jonah wouldn’t believe her?
CJ was silenced as Jonah’s lips traveled from her ear and rested on her forehead.
He drew back. “Your job isn’t to broker contracts for the Desert Pony’s horses.”
Jonah was right. “I know,” CJ admitted, though it pained her.
She caught her breath as Jonah leaned in again, his eyes locked with hers. “I suggest three things from here on in. One…” He kissed her right cheek. “Leave all bargaining and business to me.” He kissed her other cheek. “Two, stop attempting to prove yourself.”
CJ couldn’t let him have the last word. She reached up and pulled his head down until his lips were a breath away. “And three, you stop sabotaging my work.” She pressed her lips against his, satisfied by his surprised intake of breath and then a tad frightened as he took control of the caress she’d brazenly initiated.
Her hands curled around the lapels of his jacket, and she held on even when he broke the kiss.
“I was going to say,” he whispered, dipping his head and stealing another kiss, “that three, we let each other do what we do best and see if we can’t come to a more amiable working relationship.”
Jonah’s lips were warm and soothing. The arguments, the angst, were forgotten in the kiss until h
e pulled away as if torn. They stared at each other. His mouth quirked in a teasing, satisfied smile. “It appears you already had ‘amiable’ in mind as well.”
His head bent for one last, heart-stopping kiss. In this moment, and in the blurred hopes of potential more moments such as this, CJ was a lady. And she liked it.
Chapter 10
CJ stared at the ceiling. Moonlight streamed through the open window and a shaft of luminescent glow spread across her lap and the beautiful quilt she snuggled beneath. There were enormous benefits to lodging in the main house. A comfortable bed. Wood floors. Bonita’s cleaning skills. A small bureau for her clothes. No spiders. Well, none that she knew of.
She tugged the quilt higher as the cold desert night air breezed past the calico curtains and over her face and chest. It contrasted with the warmth that still clung to her cheeks. Her outlandish and impulsive stealing of Jonah’s kiss. She was mortified. Even though he didn’t seem to mind. But it was Jonah Sparks! And it was the bitter taste of humble pie. Until now, she was confident in her abilities to run circles around the British lord-turned-rancher. But after being duped by Mr. Lloyd in a matter of minutes, she was sheepish… no, she was stupid.
Her need to prove herself to Jonah had become an obsession. So much so that she couldn’t see the man Charlie claimed him to be. Sharp with numbers and business, as driven as she was to succeed in this hard wasteland, and good. Good, faith-driven, God-honoring, ethical, and utterly annoying. But now, he was annoying for a different reason. She was beginning to like him. More than like him. The erratic palpitations of her heart every time he was near wasn’t just because he was an irritant. CJ had to admit it was because she was attracted to him. He’d pushed and tested, and now his intentions seemed to have changed. Out of respect? Attraction? Maybe that was why her heart still beat with the cadence of a mustang’s gallop. Jonah was the only one who could rein in her wildness.
The thud of rushed footsteps in the hallway outside her door caused CJ to sit up in her bed. It was past one in the morning. Someone banged on her door, and she had barely swung her feet over the edge of her bed when it flung open.
Jonah, tousled hair and shirt buttoned wrong, burst into the room.
“You’re needed. It’s Charlie.”
Anxious dread clutched at her already frayed emotions. CJ wasted no time in chasing Jonah’s long strides down the dimly lit hallway.
“What happened?”
“I believe it’s his heart.”
Jonah barreled into Charlie’s room. The cowboy was on the floor where he had collapsed. His face was ashen and his eyes closed. Jonah crouched beside him, maneuvering his arms under the elderly cowboy’s back and knees.
CJ had to know. “Is he—”
“No.” Jonah’s interruption was a welcome one. “I need you to send Kip for the doctor.” He grunted as he struggled to his feet, Charlie hanging limp in his grasp.
“I’m not leaving Charlie.” CJ hovered beside Jonah as he carried Charlie to the bed.
“Now is not the time for an argument,” Jonah snapped.
“Charlie is as close to me as my own father was. I will not leave.” CJ found the kiss from earlier diminish in the pall of Jonah’s heavy-handed direction.
“For goodness’ sake!”
CJ jerked her head up to meet Jonah’s glare, Charlie balanced precariously in his arms. He leveled her with a look that would skewer an armadillo’s shell. “Go.”
She hesitated.
“For once, take direction!” Jonah’s bark. “Do you want your pride to kill him?” He turned his back to her as he bent to lower Charlie to the bed.
Her face went cold. Lord in heaven, forgive her! CJ stumbled to her feet, her nightgown snagging on her toes. What had she become?
Hurrying from the room, she paused long enough to grab Charlie’s work coat and slip it on for decency’s sake. She picked up her boots at the front door and shook them out to be sure no scorpions had taken shelter for the night, then slipped her feet in. She sprinted across the yard toward the bunkhouse.
Even as she roused Kip and explained the need, CJ wrestled with her conscience. To prove herself capable in a man’s world she had to become hard and independent. She didn’t want to take orders from Jonah. He threatened her competency. But now? She had been willing to risk Charlie’s well-being to once again not be told where to go and what to do. Shame coursed through her. In that split second, her own pride had risen above common sense. Yes, Charlie was like a father to her, but not responding quickly to Jonah’s direction was foolish.
A prayer seeped its way from CJ’s soul toward heaven as she bounded back into Charlie’s room. Lord, may I be humble, even as I fight for Jonah’s respect… and maybe even his love.
Morning brought with it the shallow breaths of Charlie and the presence of Dr. Germaine. Kip stood in the doorway, and CJ exchanged glances with him, hoping her gratitude was expressed through her tiny smile. Kip was a good man. Just not her man. He nodded and retreated back to the duties of the day.
Jonah leaned over one of the doctor’s shoulders, and CJ leaned over the other.
Dr. Germaine ignored them, his stethoscope held to Charlie’s chest. He continued his examination, finally giving them both a poignant look that indicated he needed space. Jonah backed away, but CJ didn’t. She couldn’t. Charlie’s wispy hair fell back from his forehead. A forehead creased with lines and wrinkles, a face weathered by the sun and dry winds. He was Charlie. He was the man who believed in her. “Lord, don’t let him die.”
CJ didn’t realize she’d whispered her prayerful entreaty until Jonah’s hand clasped her arm and pulled her back.
“Thank you.” Dr. Germaine was able to move.
Jonah released her arm. CJ lifted her hand to rub where Jonah’s hand had been.
Dr. Germaine turned to face them, his voice quiet. “I believe he had a heart attack. He isn’t in the best of health.”
“Yes, we are aware of that.”
We? CJ glanced at Jonah, but his attention was on the doctor. It was as if they stood united—for Charlie.
Dr. Germaine adjusted his stethoscope around his neck. “His heart is steady, for now. But from what I can surmise, it’s very weak.”
“Is he going to die?” CJ was afraid of the truth, but she needed to hear it all the same.
Dr. Germaine exchanged looks with Jonah, as if she were too sensitive to handle the news.
“I want to know,” CJ insisted.
“He may.” Dr. Germaine’s admission knocked the remaining bit of wind from her chest. “With a heart that aged, it’s also allowing liquid into his lungs. He’s not long for this world. And by that I mean it could be a few days, it could be a year. It’s all in the Lord’s hands. There’s really nothing I can do.”
CJ never cried. She hated tears. Weren’t they a sign of weakness? But when it came to Charlie, she was weak. She was unbearably weak. She needed him. Needed his belief in her. She was selfish and self-centered. But, oh, she loved Charlie so. The idea of him passing away to Glory wasn’t a relief, it was as if a thief were breaking into the stagecoach of her life and stealing her most precious treasure.
Tears crowded her throat until they suffocated her. Her lips twitched as she tried to hold them back.
“I understand,” she choked. Dr. Germaine watched her closely. Jonah tipped his head as if waiting to see her burst into tears.
CJ straightened her shoulders and swallowed. Charlie would say to be tough. “Life comes an’ it goes. Ain’t nothin’ a man can do about it. God’s got His clock goin’, an’ if it stops tickin’, then it stops. Ain’t no accident.”
“I—I’ve got work to do.” CJ retreated from the room with sure steps. Steps that spoke of a confidence she no longer possessed. She was breaking. The realization was clear now. Everyone needed someone to believe in them, to love them, to support them. Without Charlie, she would have no one. It was a very dark place she had created for herself.
Jonah stoo
d at his study window and watched CJ as she rode Remmy in the corral. His Appaloosa was healing well and was a beautiful horse that symbolized his future dreams. But on Remmy’s back was a woman who sat straight as a stake in the ground. Stubborn, strong, willful, and yet tender inside. Now that he was looking, Jonah could see the grace inside, the woman who also yearned to be appreciated, to be loved. He could understand that. Jonah’s memories took him back to his youth when Charlie was still foreman here at the Desert Pony. He’d wanted to be appreciated. Not as someone who would be a future lord and heir to an English estate, but as a young man who wanted to be strategic, to plan, to estimate profits and loss, and to grow his uncle’s ranch into an American estate. But Mexican territory was intimidating to everyone but his uncle and Charlie. And yet they’d given him the opportunity to seek the plans God had for him. Those plans brought him back to New Mexico years later, to this very ranch, and landed him a woman as a foreman who sought that same understanding.
He slumped into his chair. Was it really that awful to let CJ oversee Remmy’s care, direct his men, be wild and free? Jonah thumbed the edges of his Bible. Charlie was right. If CJ was guilty of any sin, it was pride. But that pride may have been forged from a defense to be able to fulfill her own dreams. Yes. Jonah could relate to that. He was guilty of the exact same thing. Celia Jo Matheson was his opposite in almost every way, and yet, somehow, their hearts beat in a complementary rhythm. He could respect her. He could let her use the talents God had given her. He could—the realization stunned him—he could love her.
Midnight was a lonely hour. The lamp’s flame flickered and danced, mocking CJ’s exhaustion. She had refused to not work. She had refused to let Jonah see her be conquered. He needed to know she could do her job regardless of circumstances, no matter how grievous. But now, she needed Charlie. With no intention to sleep, CJ had reprieved Bonita from the bedside vigil and taken her place on the chair.
CJ breathed deep and reached out to tuck the red wool blanket beneath Charlie’s chin. She had driven the men today. Harder than ever. With tasks that weren’t even priorities. She closed her eyes. In her quest to be Celia Jo Matheson, respected foreman of the Desert Pony, she had become proud. The kind of proud that wasn’t a respectable confidence, but more of an arrogant devil-may-care tip of her head. Toward Jonah mostly. Her brothers all had different dreams for her, so she’d had to fight to break free and follow her own hopes. But in doing so, had she tried to prove herself so hard that she had lost sight of the needs of others? Charlie always said she had more sass than a rustled-up hen, but she didn’t want to put herself above others—even Jonah. It may be a battle to show her worth as a woman and a foreman, but that didn’t mean she was justified in becoming cocky and bullheaded. A lone tear glided down her cheek.
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