“Ohhhh, Charlie,” she whispered.
To CJ’s hopeful surprise, his hand moved and laid over hers. The aged man opened his misty blue eyes. “Hey, darlin’.” His voice was gritty and tired.
“Shhhh, don’t talk.”
“Why ever not?” he groused. “Dumbest thing I ever heard. As if talkin’ll kill me.”
CJ rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head. “You’re a gussied-up old fighter.”
“Don’t know about the gussied-up part.” Charlie’s vision grazed over the blanket that covered him. “I’m in long johns under this here blanket.”
“Well, please leave the blanket pulled up.” CJ’s voice was watery as she laughed. Charlie. So full of spit and so full of life, even as he wobbled on the verge of death.
Charlie fumbled as he reached for her hand again. His eyes drilled into hers. “You an’ Jonah figger it all out yet?”
CJ shook her head. “Trying to. Maybe.”
“Well you best git on it. Why’dya think I sent you here? To up and quit when I die?”
“I won’t quit.” CJ felt more tears escape her eyes.
“I know.” Charlie squeezed her hand. “But you’re my girl. An’ I need to know that I’m leavin’ ya in good hands.”
“And you chose Jonah?” CJ chuckled wryly even as she licked tears from the corner of her mouth. “My own hands weren’t good enough?”
Charlie smirked weakly. “Welllllll, you’re a feisty little woman. Tough. I’m proud o’ my girl. But as fierce and independent as ya are, well, ya ain’t got the constitution to be alone.”
CJ swallowed a lump in her throat.
Charlie’s smile waned and he grew serious. “Lord knows, you can’t keep ridin’ solo like a drifter. Most men an’ women don’t. ’S why God made man and woman. Time you stop fightin’ that part of ya that God created ya to be. Woman. It’s not a curse, y’know.”
“I don’t always feel that way.”
“I know. But ya sure love yer frills and lacy stuff. An’ pink. Ya love yer pink.”
CJ laughed. “I do.”
Charlie squeezed her hand again. “Lord made you strong, darlin’. But one thing He didn’t do.”
CJ held her breath. Charlie was talking sense. She needed to listen. She ached to listen. She was so tired.
“He didn’t make you less of a woman so you could be a man in a man’s world. Ya need to remember that it’s good to be a female. To want to love someone and be loved. That ain’t bein’ weak, that’s bein’ human. It’s okay to want to please someone an’ do good work. That ain’t weak, that’s partnership. Same as a man and his horse. Ya work together. One does one thing, the other does what the first cain’t. I believe that’s what the good Lord intended all along.”
It made sense. CJ swiped at the tears on her cheeks. As evidenced by her brief interaction with Mr. Lloyd, it was more than apparent Jonah embodied skills she didn’t have. That and his uncanny ability to sweet-talk a spider onto a dime novel.
“I’ve been so wrong, Charlie. I’ve been out to prove myself and I—I’ve done Jonah wrong.”
Charlie smiled. “Then do right by him. Show him ya can do yer job and respect who he is, too.”
“I love you, you old codger.” CJ leaned over and left a kiss on his leathery skin.
Charlie’s chuckle was congested, reminding CJ that time with him might be fleeting, but for now he was here and she was going to envelop him in love.
“Ya better love me. I’m the one who brought ya here. Don’t make a cowboy mad an’ let his matchmakin’ go all south.”
CJ’s eyes widened. “Matchmaking?”
“With your sass and his willpower, I ‘spect the two of ya will have a rip-roarin’ life,” Charlie mumbled before sleep claimed his heavy eyelids.
CJ saw Jonah’s shadow stretch over the bed and her chest constricted. She couldn’t help herself. She met his gaze.
His smile was gentle and full of meaning. “Rip-roarin’,” he echoed.
Charlie rocked on the porch, his red blanket wrapped around his legs. Remmy grazed in the corral as Kip and a few of the boys balanced on the top rails.
CJ wiped a strand of hair from her forehead. Sweaty and dirty. It’d been a good day. Working the mustangs had rejuvenated her. That and knowing that for now Charlie was on the front porch happy as a lark, watching the happenings of the Desert Pony. She bent and lifted a bale of hay.
Strong leather-gloved hands reached from the other side and hoisted it higher, making her release her grip.
Jonah.
“I can carry it,” CJ insisted.
Jonah ignored her. Typical. He hauled it into the barn.
CJ followed. The barn was quiet. Jonah lugged the bale down the aisle and dropped it by the stack she’d been working on. He removed his gloves and slapped them against his leg.
“Just because I offer to help doesn’t mean I don’t think you can do it.”
“You’re right.” He was. CJ knew it. She tugged her own gloves off, for something to do to avoid his striking gaze. The last few weeks had been ones of epiphany. Jonah had let her do her job without dogging her every move. The men were listening to her, and Jonah backed her up when Sam argued. When CJ sent him packing, Jonah just stood at the front door, arms crossed over his broad chest, and watched Sam go. With a nod, he’d returned to his study. It was CJ’s decision. It was her job.
Some cavalrymen had come by to meet with Jonah. Jonah invited her into the business dealings and discussion on future contracts should they be able to bring in more mustangs. He’d even proposed the idea of breeding Appaloosas for the Cavalry and was met with interest. CJ sat stupefied. Jonah’s mind worked like a whirling dervish. She could hardly follow him. He was… brilliant.
Now, Jonah gave her a crooked grin. “You rather enjoy my presence now, I believe.”
“Not particularly.” CJ gave him a jaunty smile in return and moved to take her leave.
Jonah’s hand reached out and grasped hers. She stopped. Goodness. He had calluses. Not just a bookworm; the man wasn’t afraid of a little hard work either. He drew her closer and glanced over her shoulder.
Yes. They were alone. Very. Alone.
“Say you do.”
“Do what?” CJ begged ignorance, but the softness in Jonah’s eyes just might be her undoing.
“Need a hero,” he insisted.
CJ quirked an eyebrow and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Not really.”
“There was a spider on the hay bale.”
CJ darted a horrified glance at the hay bale, and sure enough, a brown spider, probably harmless, perched on it as if to mock her very existence.
“Very well, then. Yes. I need a hero,” CJ muttered. If only to rid her world of creatures of the eight-legged sort.
“Say it again, if you would. Let me revel in the very idea that Celia Jo Matheson needs me.”
CJ stepped toward him. Jonah’s eyes narrowed. “I need you,” she whispered.
Silence.
Jonah’s jaw twitched and his eyes darkened. “I don’t believe you mean that.”
“Well.” CJ took the liberty to straighten his silly English hat. “My sanity needs you. I don’t want the life scared out of me with more tarantulas.”
Jonah frowned. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. CJ smirked. She enjoyed teasing him.
“You’re highly unfair if you think my heroism stops with the eradication of spiders.”
CJ raised an eyebrow. “I can outride you, I can outrun you, and I can out-lasso you. What would I need a hero for?”
Jonah tugged her closer and lowered his head. “You might have lassoed me, my dear, but I think your wildness might need to be corralled a tad.”
CJ pulled away and marched down the aisle of the barn. “Doubtful.” She gave him another smirk.
Outside, she waved at Charlie on the porch. Jonah came up behind her.
“I’m thankful he sent you here.”
Jonah’s words smooth
ed over CJ like a precious salve on a deep wound. She closed her eyes. Jonah continued to speak over her shoulder, his breath tickling the back of her neck.
“The Desert Pony needed you. And you being here brought Charlie back where he belongs.”
CJ waited.
“You do a remarkable job.”
She turned. Jonah’s head was tilted to the side. His tweed cap was now so much a part of him, CJ couldn’t picture him in a cowboy hat. But it was the recognition of her ability and the respect for it that captured her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “And I promise I’ll never do business again. You are remarkable at that.”
Jonah reached out in full sight of Charlie. He rested his hands at CJ’s waist.
“Celia Jo Matheson. I do believe we’ve reached an agreement.”
She smiled up at him. “I think you may be right.”
Jonah glanced over CJ’s shoulder. “Do you know that Charlie is grinning like a crazy man right now?”
CJ smiled. “I think this is what that old codger was after all along.”
“Mmm.” Jonah reached for her hand. “Come here. Charlie has had enough entertainment for the day.”
Jonah pulled her into the shadows of the barn, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You are delectable,” he murmured.
“I’m not dinner, Jonah Sparks.”
He raised his eyebrow. CJ wished the warmth that crept up her neck didn’t give her away, but it did. Jonah grinned.
“Have you ever considered making this—arrangement—more permanent?”
Permanent? CJ leaned her forehead against his chest. Could she? And retain her freedom, her joy of being foreman, her dreams?
Jonah dipped his head and whispered in her ear. “I’d like to hold my foreman at night a bit longer than might be appropriate for an employer to do.”
Oh good heavens! CJ drew back in stunned and deliciously delighted surprise.
“I’m a rake. I realize that.” Jonah dropped another kiss on the tip of her nose. “But every willful woman needs someone who can put them in their place from time to time.”
“There is that.” CJ smirked. She planted her own kiss on Jonah’s nose. “And every straitlaced man needs a woman with just the right amount of sass.”
“I like sass.” Jonah reached out and trailed his fingers down her cheek. “But I love you.”
He leaned in and claimed her mouth. CJ surrendered. She loved him. She needed him. But he needed her, too. And that was an arrangement that CJ could get behind.
Professional coffee drinker, Jaime Jo Wright resides in the hills of Wisconsin. She loves to write spirited turn-of-the-century romance, stained with suspense. Her day job finds her as a Director of Sales & Development. She’s wife to a rock climbing, bow-hunting Pre-K teacher, mom to a coffee-drinking little girl and a little boy she fondly refers to as her mischievous “Peter Pan.” Jaime completes her persona by being an admitted social media junkie and coffee snob. She is a member of ACFW and has the best writing sisters EVER!
The Cowboy’s Bride Collection: 9 Historical Romances Form on Old West Ranches Page 56
