Blackstone's Bride

by Teresa Southwick

  “I have something for you, Tom,” Jarrod said.

  The boy’s head snapped up. His eyes were the mirror of his uncle’s, gray and filled with excitement. “You didn’t have to, Uncle Jarrod.”

  “I wanted to. Follow me.” He led them through the barn and back to the corral beyond, where the newest foal frolicked beneath the watchful eye of her mother.

  Katie pointed to the frisky little horse. “Why does the horse have a red ribbon around his neck, Uncle Jarrod? Won’t that hurt him? Is it too tight?”

  “No. And that’s a she. Right, Tom?”

  The boy nodded, his gaze following every move of the baby horse. He had come to a dead stop when he’d seen the ribbon, but hadn’t said a word. As if he was afraid to hope, even though that ribbon told him the horse was a present and he was the only one having a birthday.

  Jarrod stood beside Tom, who had climbed up two white slats on the fence and rested his arms on top. His uncle imitated the pose. “Tom, the baby foal is yours. Happy birthday, son.”

  Abby swore Tom went so still he even stopped breathing. Then he slowly looked at Jarrod, his eyes huge. “You mean it, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

  Abby came up on the boy’s other side. “What do you think, Tom? Are you excited? Are you surprised?” She felt like Katie with all her questions. She couldn’t stop. Her feelings just rose to the top and spilled over at seeing the boy’s dream come true.

  “I can’t believe it,” Tom said, forgetting his hostility. He shook his head and whistled. The foal skidded to a stop and lifted her head, listening. Tom did it again, and she trotted over, then sniffed at him through the fence boards.

  Oliver took his thumb out of his mouth and climbed up beside Jarrod. “Is Tom gonna be a cowboy now, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “If he wants to.”

  “Do ya, Tom?” the boy asked.

  “Yup,” Tom said, gently rubbing the baby’s nose.

  Oliver looked at Jarrod. “I wanna be a cowboy too.” He stuck his thumb back in his mouth and precariously held onto the fence with one hand.

  Jarrod plucked him from the slats and settled the boy on his forearm. “You sure that’s what you want to be?”

  The youngster nodded, his head and arm going up and down with the movement.

  “All right, then, I’m going to tell you a secret,” Jarrod said.

  “What?” Oliver asked around the finger in his mouth.

  “As much as they might want to, cowboys can’t suck their thumbs.”

  “Why?” Oliver asked, suspicion gathering in his blue eyes. They had all tried to get him to stop, and he sensed another lecture.

  “They need two hands all the time.”

  “What for?”

  “Riding. Roping.”

  “Really?” Oliver asked.

  Jarrod nodded solemnly. “It’s dangerous too. If a cowboy was riding hell-bent for leather and his horse stepped in a gopher hole, why, the jarring he’d take would not only shake loose his common sense, it could make him bite that thumb clean off.”

  To keep from laughing, Abby clamped her teeth tightly together. Not only was Jarrod’s serious air tickling her, but also the sheer genius of his tactic to break the boy’s habit without turning it into a big deal.

  Oliver glanced cross-eyed at the four fingers visible in front of his face. He lowered his hand. “Is Tom gonna ride his new horse?”

  “Not today,” Jarrod said. “She’s not big enough. But eventually he will. He’ll take care of her the way he’s been doing. Today he gets to name her.”

  “What are ya gonna call her, Tom?” Oliver asked.

  “Don’t know yet.”

  Jarrod set Oliver on the ground. The boy started to put his thumb in his mouth, but stuck it in his pocket instead. It was all Abby could do not to clap her hands and jump in the air.

  “A name’s real important,” Jarrod said, putting his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “No harm in taking your time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Another thing,” Jarrod added. “I want you to have a new saddle. Couldn’t get it in time for your birthday, but it’s part of your present. We’re going into Hollister the day before the Fourth of July so we can pick out something.”

  Tom looked like he was about to explode from happiness. He only hesitated a split second before he threw his arms around Jarrod and buried his face against his uncle’s shirt. “This is the best day of my whole life. Thank you, sir,” he said. There was a husky note in his voice that made Abby swallow hard.

  “I wish it was my birthday,” Katie said wistfully.

  “Me too,” Lily said.

  Abby put an arm around each of the girls. “It will be soon enough.”

  “The day’s just begun,” Jarrod said, patting Tom’s shoulder. Abby liked the way he didn’t seem embarrassed by the boy’s show of affection.

  “Do you have another surprise that I don’t know about?” she asked.

  He nodded. “We’re going to declare our own holiday.”

  “Like Independence Day?” Katie asked. “Yes,” Jarrod answered.

  “Are we gonna have fireworks?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.

  “No,” he said seriously. “We can’t take the chance of fire out here. That’ll have to wait until we go to town.”

  “What are we gonna do?” Tom asked.

  “That’s up to you. What we’re not gonna do is work.”

  “Can we go fishin’?” the birthday boy wanted to know.

  Jarrod grinned. “I think that’s a fine idea.”

  “I’ll fix a lunch for you to take,” Abby said.

  “Make enough for six,” Jarrod said, casually resting his elbow on the top rail of the fence.

  “Good idea. Tom’s growing so fast he can eat enough for two,” she answered.

  “No. You’re coming with us, Abby.”

  Katie clapped her hands. “Oh, good. We’re all going together. I’ve never been fishing. Does it hurt the fish?” she asked suddenly.

  Tom walked over to her. “Nah, they like it when their mouth gets stuck on that sharp hook.”

  Katie looked stricken. “Do I have to hurt the fish, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “I hope not,” Lily said. “Because I won’t put a worm on the end of a hook.”

  “Worms?” Katie said, green eyes growing wide.

  Jarrod raised his gaze heavenward and sighed. “Let’s call it a picnic. No one has to fish if they don’t want to.” He looked at them and said, “If you do, you’d best go dig up some worms. A real good spot is out there in the shade under the oaks.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tom and Oliver said together, then raced away.

  Jarrod looked at the girls. “You two might want to go swimming.” When they nodded eagerly, he said, “Then gather up some towels and clothes to change into.”

  “Yes, sir,” they answered, and ran off.

  Jarrod looked at a frowning Abby. “What’s wrong? Lessons can wait and so can chores.”

  “I agree. I don’t disapprove of a holiday. In fact I think it’s a wonderful idea for you to spend time with the children, especially Tom.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I can’t go with you.”

  “You need a day off just as much as the rest of us.”

  Abby didn’t know what a day off was. She was almost afraid to see what it felt like. But that wasn’t why she hesitated.

  “This should be a family day. Being the housekeeper, I’m not part of that.”

  He snorted. “That’s the biggest bunch of bull—”

  She knew he was right. Still she wavered. “I don’t want the children to get too attached to me. Next year I’ll be gone. I don’t want Tom’s birthday to roll around again and have them be sad because I’m not here.”

  Abby knew she was being selfish. She was the one who would be sad. The children would miss her for a while, but eventually they would forget about her. She would never forget them, or Jarro
d.

  “All the children want you to go.”

  “Except possibly Tom.”

  “He’s so happy, I don’t think he’d object.” He moved in front of her, close enough for her to catch the scent of shaving soap on his skin. “The point is, you’re here today. Enjoy it.”

  She thought for a moment, letting his words sink in. She decided he was right. When she had to go, it would be hard on everyone, including her. Until then she would care for them and give them everything she had to give every day. There was no reason to be miserable.

  “What you’re saying makes a lot of sense, Jarrod. I wouldn’t want to spoil this day for them. If you’re sure it’s best.”

  “I’m not sure of anything. But I figure tomorrow will take care of itself. Besides, you need some fun as much as the kids do.”

  “I don’t know. There’s laundry to do, and cleaning. I have those vegetables to put up. And—”

  “Keep protesting if it makes you feel better. But I’m warning you, one way or another, you’re going on that picnic with us.”

  Her eyebrow lifted in surprise. “Just how do you know?”

  “I’ll kidnap you if necessary.” The serious expression on his handsome face convinced her he would do exactly what he said.

  “Then, of course I’ll go along.”

  “Good.”

  That one word caused her heart to flutter. If word ever got out that there was more to Jarrod Blackstone than looks, she thought, he’d be hip deep in women.

  She got the feeling that the outing was more for her benefit than the children’s. Another sharp tug in her chest reminded her that she’d best be careful of Jarrod Blackstone. Like all those other females, she was already half in love with him. A little nudge would push her over the edge.

  It had been a good day, Jarrod thought as he poured water in the basin on the oak dresser. Abby was settling the children for the night, and he had removed his shirt to wash up before bed. As he dried off he looked in the mirror and studied the room behind him.

  A pleasant breeze from the open window billowed the lace curtains and cooled the skin on his bare chest. This was the largest bedroom, and one that his parents had shared before him. Dulcy had changed the furniture, ordering the big four-poster bed and matching oak dresser and armoire all the way from Chicago. Abby had delivered it from Hollister Freight and admired the hell out of it, he remembered.

  He liked it too. One thing he could say for Dulcy, she had good taste. In furniture if not in men.

  He pushed that thought away, refusing to spoil a nearly perfect day. It had shown him how good things could be.

  A movement past his partially opened door drew his attention, and he wondered if the kids were all right, or up to mischief when they should be asleep.

  He quickly moved to the doorway and peeked out. Abby was at the end of the hallway, just starting down the stairs. “Abby?”

  She turned to him, then glanced at the closed doors to the children’s rooms. Apparently she decided she didn’t want to chance disturbing them with a conversation the length of the hall, because she walked to him. The light from his room spilled into the hall, but his height shielded her, throwing shadow over her face.

  “Jarrod, did you want something?”

  “Are the kids asleep already?”

  She nodded. “If I’d known that a day by the stream swimming and fishing could do that, I’d have tried it sooner.”

  “They were pretty tired?”

  “Exhausted. Even though Oliver napped while you carried him back, he couldn’t keep his eyes open as I tucked him in. Didn’t even have time to suck his thumb. His first step to becoming a cowboy.”

  Jarrod leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. “He has latched onto the idea.”

  “And played right into your hands. You’re a sly one, Jarrod. Did you see how hard he tried today to remember not to keep his thumb in his mouth?”

  Her sudden smile made his breath catch for an instant. With that red hair, she was a beautiful combination of fire and sunshine. “He did give that little arm a pumping every time he put it in and pulled it out.” He stared into her eyes, thinking that was a safe place. The clear blue depths pulled him in until he could hardly catch his breath.

  “You gave the children a wonderful day, Jarrod. Especially Tom. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

  He nodded. “What about you, Abby? Did you have fun?”

  “Oh, yes. Once I let go of thinking of all the work waiting for me, I had a wonderful time.”

  “Even though you let that worm escape?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I did not let him escape. He slipped out of my fingers and I simply couldn’t catch him.”

  “The world’s fastest worm,” Jarrod said dryly.

  “That’s right. I had no idea how quick those little devils could be.” She lifted her chin slightly, daring him to contradict her.

  “It had nothing to do with the fact that you didn’t like touching them or hurting the fish?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “So it really was an accident when you fell in the stream? Not just a way to get out of holding that fishing pole?”

  “Of course not. My feet went out from under me. And I’m glad it happened. I was hot.”

  Not to mention soaked from chest to ankle, he remembered. Droplets of water had splashed into her face, clinging to her thick lashes and sparkling like diamonds. They were no match for the glitter of delight in her eyes. Her surprised squeal and merry laughter at her condition were contagious. They had all laughed with her. His attention had been drawn to her full, rosy lips, the most kissable mouth he’d ever seen.

  If only his gaze hadn’t strayed from there. But he hadn’t been able to resist glancing lower, at the way the soaked material of her blouse plastered to her rounded breasts. He could almost see the naked, rosy-tipped peaks.

  He couldn’t let her struggle out of the water, so he’d held out a hand to her. The feel of it in his own—soft, delicate-boned, and feminine in spite of the calluses she’d earned from hard work—had made him want to wrap his arms around her and kiss every last bead of water from her lashes, her nose, her cheeks, her neck. And lower.

  He went hard again, just as he had then. She wasn’t the only one who had been hot.

  Jarrod took a step toward her, stopping when their bodies were only inches apart. Her eyes widened as she stared at him. Could she see that his mood had changed from teasing to temptation? But she didn’t move away. He cupped her cheek in his palm, savoring the satin feel of her skin for a moment, then lowered his mouth to hers.

  She smelled like a field of wildflowers and tasted of cake and coffee. Sighing at the sweetness of it, he circled an arm around her small waist and pulled her loosely against his length. For a moment her palms rested stiffly on his bare chest. Then she relaxed and leaned into him. Her sudden surrender and the nearness of her womanly softness fueled the fire in his blood.

  Tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, he sought to deepen the kiss. A sigh escaped her as she opened her mouth, letting him slip inside. Very slowly, she slid her arms up his chest and around his neck. He stroked the honeyed recess of her mouth, eliciting a small moan. Shivers rippled through her, sending waves of male satisfaction crashing through him. He was glad she was affected by him. God knows he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. “Let me love you, Abby.”

  “Hmmm?” she said dreamily, her mouth still pressed to his.

  It was high time they figured out exactly what was between them.

  He had wanted her since the first time she had spent the night under his roof. He was about to go crazy from wanting her. He could tell she liked kissing him; her rapid breathing was a match for his own. Surely they wanted the same thing.

  Jarrod lifted her into his arms and stepped through his doorway.

  She pulled her mouth away and stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “What are you doing?”

  He n
uzzled her neck and felt her stiffen. “I care about you, Abby, and I think you care about me. Let me show you—”

  “I—I wasn’t thinking straight, Jarrod. Please put me down.”

  The demands of his body kept him from hearing her. He took another step into the room and felt a sharp pain as she pulled the hair on his chest.

  “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”

  “I said put me down.”

  He did. She backed away from him toward the door, straightening her clothes. Her breathing was erratic, but he wasn’t certain whether it was from passion or anger. The fire in her eyes answered the question.

  “Wait, Abby—”

  “No.”

  In one stride he was beside her and gripped her arm. “You have to admit that there’s something between you and me.”

  “I don’t have to do any such thing.” She tried to pull away, but he held on. “I can’t feel anything for you. I won’t.”

  “You can control your emotions as easy as that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not being honest with yourself.” He ran a hand through his hair, and it didn’t sweeten his mood when he saw it was shaking. “Or you’re luckier than I am, then.”

  “This can’t happen again, or I’ll have to go,” she said, a warning in her voice. “Job or no job.”

  “You wouldn’t. What about the children? Your brother?”

  Pain darkened her blue eyes, and he hated himself for using her soft heart against her. He was a selfish bastard.

  “I’d never deliberately hurt those kids. And I think you know it. I like you, Jarrod. I think you know that too. That’s exactly why this can’t ever happen.”

  “Would you feel differently if you weren’t leaving?”

  She said nothing, just bit the corner of her lip.

  Jarrod dropped his hand from her arm.

  “Do I have your word that you won’t do anything like this again?” she asked.

  He slowly nodded. “I’m sorry for you, Abby.” He sighed. “And for me.”

  Abby walked briskly down the front porch steps and down the rise toward the bunkhouse. She needed air and thought the pleasant night might clear her head and the fire inside her.

  But a voice in her mind warned her that it would take more than a nighttime stroll to make her stop wanting Jarrod Blackstone.