The Texas Kisses Collection

by Jenny Schwartz

  And it was no use saying he couldn’t find a woman like that in Gascoyne Junction. Men as compelling as Caleb had no trouble attracting equally stunning women.

  Tessa could name two in town and five from neighboring towns without even trying.

  So she just needed to get over it. Despite the magic of their walk by the river, Caleb was not for her.

  Caleb drove home from work with the windows down and the wind rushing in and taking away the staleness of the day. It had been a long day, starting with a call-out when cattle were discovered on the road, fence wire cut and with unmistakable signs of rustling. Dammittal. Fortunately, the rustlers had been both amateurs and idiots, and he and a deputy had caught up with them two hours after the straying cattle were rounded up and returned.

  That hadn’t been the last of the idiots he’d encountered, though. Too many drivers were speeding and reckless on the road, and he’d given out three warnings and a ticket.

  His temper wasn’t the best.

  Two nights ago he’d walked with Tessa by the river and despite himself, been lured into dreaming dreams. A single encounter, the most innocent flirtation, and he couldn’t get her out of his mind. His instincts said to claim her.

  His common sense and honor told him that he had to leave her free to explore the world, not tied to him or Gascoyne Junction. She’d been trapped here too long.

  The headlights of his sheriff’s vehicle cut the night, revealing the approaching dip and curve in the road. He slowed, although frustration made him want to accelerate and drive the car fast and hard into the hazard. A quarter of a mile on, he came to his driveway and turned in. The gate stood open.

  He’d bought a house on the edge of town. The house wasn’t much, an old 1970s ranch house that needed work, but it had land and was close by if he was needed in a hurry in his role as sheriff. He’d improve the house over time, and already the stables were solid and his sister was finding him a horse. Working with her husband in their vet clinic, Sue often came across animals needing re-homing.

  He had plans, and he’d thought they were good plans, until he met Tessa by the river and realized just how empty those plans were without a woman to love. A good woman who’d love him back.

  The house didn’t just need new gutters, plumbing and paint. It needed laughter and love, someone to fuss about curtains and carpets and the state of the garden. He wanted to come home to lights on and a welcoming kiss.

  As it was…he slammed the car door and walked up the steps to the back door. The house was dark and he’d stayed in town to eat dinner at the diner. He could cook, but there didn’t seem much point in cooking for one person, or staring at empty walls or the television as he ate. He hadn’t noticed the loneliness so much when he’d lived in the city—then again, he’d hardly ever stayed in his apartment. There was always another mission. Although travel wasn’t so glamorous year in, year out.

  He closed his mind to some of the worst places he’d visited and the things he’d done there, and flicked on the kitchen light. The clean, bare kitchen looked back at him, the toaster lined up with the coffee-maker on the scratched counter top. He kicked off his boots and grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the fridge, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked through the house and out to the front porch.

  The old rocking chair that he’d rescued from his aunt’s attic groaned as dropped into it. He propped his bare feet on the porch railing, tilting the chair precariously. He remembered his granddad sitting in this chair, whittling. If Caleb turned the chair upside down, he’d find his own name carved into the seat. He’d done that when he was seven, using one of his granddad’s knives. He’d been smacked for it. Not for marking the chair, but for touching the forbidden knife.

  Memories.

  He wanted to make new ones. He wanted a wife, kids, a good life. And that was the other reason he had to stop thinking of Tessa. If he kept remembering how gracefully she’d walked in front of him by the river, how soft she’d been when he held her, the rose scent of her shampoo and her lovely, laughing voice, then he’d be tempted to attempt a compromise. He’d kid himself that they could date without either of them sacrificing their dreams.

  But he’d be lying.

  She needed to be free, and he wanted commitment.

  He held his bottle of iced tea up, saluting the moon as a cloud sailed across it. Life had its ironies. A couple of years ago, he’d have been thrilled to meet a girl like Tessa without the pressure of an ongoing commitment. But now he wanted all or nothing. An old-fashioned courtship leading to an equally old-fashioned marriage, and a woman who’d appreciate both.

  “Right woman, wrong time.” He set the empty bottle down and picked up a piece of chestnut wood from the porch boards. He slipped his knife out of his ankle sheath; the sheath a habit he’d picked up travelling overseas. Idly, he whittled the wood.

  A mockingbird called in the darkness.

  Damn his imagination. It was all too easy to picture Tessa sitting on this porch with him. Her absence mocked his dreams.

  Chapter 4

  Enough was enough! Tessa left off painting the garage door, rinsed off the paintbrush and put everything away, then showered and dressed in a cool raspberry pink t-shirt and denim shorts. She would not spend any more time regretting how far she fell short of Caleb’s experience and sophistication. She tied her honey-colored hair up in a high ponytail and threaded it through a baseball cap. She slipped her feet into sandals and picked up Doofus’s leash.

  The dog must have heard the faint clink of it because he came running. He sat alertly in front of her, tail wagging madly.

  “You’re as stir-crazy as me, aren’t you, boy?” She clicked on the leash. “Let’s go find some fun.”

  Doofus pulled her outside and galloped down the front path.

  She leaned back. “Whoa.”

  Reluctantly, he slowed to a walk, and they headed for the park by the town hall. There were tall oak trees there with lovely shade, a water fountain just for dogs, play equipment for the numerous kids who swarmed there and loved Doofus, and people whom Tessa could talk with.

  Her arrival at the park in the midafternoon quiet was greeted with shouts. The kids playing baseball dropped the bat and ball and ran up to her.

  She smiled, her heart warmed by their enthusiasm.

  “Don’t let them tease you into playing, Tessa,” one of the watching moms advised.

  Tessa waved a hand in acknowledgement. “You heard, kids.”

  In response, the kids grabbed both her hands and tried to tow her into the game. Apparently, she was fielding. “Be good,” she told Doofus, and unclicked his leash. He might be disobedient, but he was the kindest natured dog she’d ever encountered.

  He wandered over to the little kids’ sandpit and helpfully set himself to assist the excavations. Sand went flying.

  Tessa winced and turned away.

  The baseball game re-commenced. After a while, Tessa sneaked away from fielding to chat with the parents and grandparents who were sitting beneath the oak trees. Doofus came up to her and collapsed at her feet, happy and drooling—the one drawback to owning a boxer in summer. She shifted her sandaled foot from beneath him.

  “Town picnic, tomorrow,” Mrs. Ellis said. “I’ve told my Henry to bring a truckload of watermelons.

  “It wouldn’t be a picnic without them,” Tessa said. The Saturday picnic at the beginning of summer holidays was a town tradition, and for thirty four years, the Ellis family had supplied watermelons as the after-dinner treat. Tessa had good memories of sitting on the bridge, legs swinging and spitting melon seeds into the water. Not elegant, no. But fun.

  She decided she’d spit seeds again tomorrow, and wouldn’t that make the kids she taught stare? She giggled.

  “You look happier, now, dear. I guess you’re missing your brother.”

  “A bit.”

  “You did a good job raising him, you and Annie. Now, it’s time for you to have some fun.”

  “That’s exac
tly what I’ve decided,” Tessa said.

  Mrs. Ellis patted her hand. “But don’t play for too long. You’re the kind of woman who needs a family around her.”

  Tessa shoved the image of Caleb out of her mind. “Maybe.” She stood and dusted off her shorts, uncomfortable with the conversation. “I see Harry’s brought out a Frisbee. I think Doofus and I’ll join the game. He can fetch the kids’ wilder throws.”

  The Frisbee game attracted the younger kids, as more teenagers arrived at the park and took over the baseball game. It wasn’t mean. It was how things worked in Gascoyne Junction, and Tessa believed that the informal mingling of age groups helped everyone involved. The older kids taught the younger kids that they couldn’t have things all their own way (heaven save Tessa from spoilt youngsters!), and the younger kids taught the older ones to be patient and responsible and have a care for those weaker than themselves. It gave the teenagers confidence and purpose. And being next door to the town hall, there was always a responsible adult nearby, keeping an eye on things.

  Seven year old Alex threw the Frisbee with more enthusiasm than aim, and Tessa had to run and stretch. She jumped and caught the Frisbee, and sent it flying on to Krysta. The nine year old girl caught it with serious concentration. Tessa applauded and watched the girl flush. Tessa made a mental note that the girl needed more praise. Her home life was difficult.

  The Frisbee flipped around the group and headed Tessa’s way again. This time, Alex’s throw completely ignored Tessa and zoomed for the oak trees behind and to her left.

  All the Frisbee players stopped and stared. Doofus woofed. A chorus of disapproval rained down on Alex. Pest, baby, throws like a girl.

  “Hey,” Tessa said in her teacher voice.

  The disapproval stopped.

  Krysta ran across and stood beside Alex. “It was an accident.” She faced the other kids.

  “Yes, it was,” Tessa approved. “And now, I’ll get it down.”

  Krysta’s eyes went wide.

  Alex wasn’t as discerning. He didn’t see any problem in the scheme. “Thank you, Miss Tessa.”

  Tessa frowned up at the oak tree. The Frisbee was caught in a fork some ten or eleven feet above the ground. No problem.

  “I can climb up.” One of the teenage boys had seen the problem and was eager to show off. He glanced sideways at a pretty girl his age.

  “No,” Tessa said. The rule of no tree climbing in the park was firm. True, she was about to break it, but she was an adult.

  “We could throw rocks at it,” little Jamie piped up.

  Tessa shuddered. “No!” A hail of stones would be sure to hurt someone.

  By now, concerned adults were hurrying over.

  Tessa frowned. All this fuss for one stuck Frisbee. And she had worn shorts. She kicked off her sandals and a cheer went up from the crowd.

  Although one of the elderly men did suggest borrowing a ladder from the town hall.

  The oak bark was fairly smooth and brought back memories of childhood tree climbing escapades. Tessa caught an overhead branch, grimaced for her under-exercised muscles—should have gone to the gym!—tried to dig her bare toes into the trunk, and somehow, pulled herself up and onto the lowest branch.

  Someone catcalled. Rude!

  In the distance, a man shouted, but Tessa was focused on the task at hand. She balanced on the branch and stretched across it to one nearer the Frisbee. The oak was old and wide. She shuffled along the new branch, a foot higher off the ground, and felt triumphant. This wasn’t so hard.

  Oops! She shouldn’t have looked down. It wasn’t that the ground was so far away, it was that her balance became precarious. She tightened her hold on a branch and recommitted to reaching the Frisbee. She shut out everything and concentrated. She was nearly there. All she needed was to step out onto that branch there…her bare toes investigated, found purchase, and she eased across. There was a certain freedom, a sense of daring, in climbing the old oak. She put one hand against the trunk of the tree and her weight fully on the branch, stretching out her free hand for the Frisbee and—

  Crack!

  The branch she was balanced on, broke. For an instant gravity seemed suspended. She flailed wildly, trying to grab another branch to hold onto, but gravity rushed back and she rushed towards the ground.

  Caleb was fast discovering the downside to being the local sheriff: meetings at Town Hall were boring.

  He listened to the mayor ramble on about the town picnic, tomorrow, and the necessity for crowd control. Huh. Crowd control meant reminding the teenagers not to sneak off to try things their parents would disapprove of, and organizing parking. Admittedly, parking could be an issue, but they’d covered that half an hour ago.

  Caleb stifled a yawn.

  The interminable meeting finally ended when the mayor had a coughing fit after swallowing a fly. Amused despite himself, Caleb picked up his hat and phone and headed for the judge’s office. The judge had a case coming before him of a young kid picked up for stealing cars. It wasn’t the kid’s first offence, but Dylan also never drove the cars far or damaged them. Caleb had looked into the boy’s history. Dylan was bored and needed a challenge, and someone to show an interest. His home life sure didn’t include any positive role models.

  However, the kid had finally had a lucky break. The last car he’d stolen was Mr. Gomez’s restored 1960s muscle car—and Mr. Gomez might be mad about it, but he was also newly retired and looking for an interest. He’d agreed to let Dylan work off his debt to the community by doing odd jobs around his garage. If Dylan used the opportunity, he could turn his life around.

  The judge agreed, and Caleb strode out of the town hall with a sense of accomplishment. He exited by a side door that faced the park. He liked to use it, although it meant a longer walk to his car, because it gave him a different view of the town. This was Gascoyne Junction relaxed and enjoying life, safe and happy. He was proud to be serving his community. It wasn’t the adrenaline rush of his previous life, but it would have its moments.

  He scanned the park, mildly curious as to why everyone was moving unhurriedly towards the far corner where the rotten oak stood. The deputy mayor had been boring on at the meeting about how it would have to come down because “You know how kids are. You can forbid them to climb trees, but you might as well tell the sun not to come up.”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes. A figure was climbing the tree, and it wasn’t a kid.

  Either he had Tessa on his mind, or his sweet, daring darling was breaking all the rules and about to pay the price. A broken arm would be the least of it. Concussion was very possible.

  “Get down from there!” He threw away his hat and ran across the park. “Get down from there, Tessa!”

  People turned to stare at him, but Tessa acted as if she didn’t hear him. She kept climbing.

  Maybe she’d be safe. He could see the Frisbee that she was after. If they were very lucky—he heard the branch crack and put on a burst of speed.

  The branch came down, and so did Tessa.

  He ignored the glancing blow of the branch on his shoulder and the scratch of twigs, and caught her. The impact sent him stumbling back and down. Training had him go limp as he fell, minimizing the damage to his muscles.

  Tessa landed on top of him, staring down at him.

  He stared back up at her.

  They stared for a long moment, and then, she smiled. “Good catch.”

  The relieved crowd cheered and laughed. A little boy waved a red Frisbee at them.

  Caleb felt all the frustrations of the last two days as well as his recent panic well up inside and burst out. He bench-pressed Tessa up and off him, and scrambled up, himself.

  Now, belatedly, she looked cautious.

  She also looked exceptionally cute in a pink shirt that had rucked up and denim shorts. Her legs were well worth displaying in those shorts, too.

  He glanced around at the watching crowd. No way was he having this conversation here. “Are you hurt? I
’ll take you to Dr. Singh.”

  “I’m fine. You took the brunt of the fall.” She walked around him and brushed at his back. “Are you okay?”

  Her touch, light though it was, felt incredibly welcome. All his nerve-endings sent messages of wanting and warmth to his brain. Like a stray dog, he wanted to push against her, and have her take him home. And wasn’t that a pathetic thought! “I’m fine.” He clasped her hand and nodded to the crowd. “Excuse us.”

  She stooped and picked up her sandals, balancing against him as she slipped them on. He strode off across the park and she hurried beside him. “I know the rule is not to climb the park trees.”

  “The branch was rotten. Digby was just saying so. You could have been seriously hurt.”

  “Or a child could have been!”

  “Digby’s organizing for the tree to come down.”

  “Oh, good,” she said rather blankly.

  Doofus bounded up to them and Caleb frowned. The dog was a complication he hadn’t expected. He scooped up his discarded hat and adjusted course, aiming for his vehicle. He’d parked in the shade of pine trees, but he still wound all the windows down and put the air conditioning on before letting Tessa or her dog inside.

  “We could walk home,” she said in the meantime. “I’m truly not hurt.”

  Caleb opened the back door and Doofus leapt in. “Well, I am.”

  “But you said…I’ll drive you to Dr. Singh.”

  “It’s my patience that’s broken.”

  “Oh.” She got into the car without further protest. Wise woman.

  She also said nothing when he drove through town.

  He parked at his house.

  Let out, Doofus immediately found the water bowl Caleb kept filled for his sister’s dogs when she visited. The dog lapped noisily, then collapsed on the shaded front porch.

  Tessa hesitated on the front step.

  Caleb kept going, inside, and returned with a first aid kit. “Sit.”

  She sat on a wicker chair.