by Deb Stover
"Jackie is short for Jacqueline," she said, still waiting for Todd to take her hand.
The boy shook her hand at last, tilting his head to one side as he continued to stare. "You don't look like no teacher. You're wearing men's clothes, too."
Maybe she didn't look like a teacher, but Cole had to admit she sure sounded like one. Encouraged, he listened in silence to his son and his new "teacher."
"I believe you meant to say I don't look like a teacher," she corrected. "Double negatives are not allowed." Todd grimaced and she ruffled his hair. "And I think you could stand a trim, too."
"Pa," Todd whined, and Cole's level of confidence that this charade might work blossomed just like Elizabeth's columbine.
"Your ma said folks judge a man's worth by how well he puts words together." Cole started toward the stable with Ruth in tow. "Learning to speak proper is more important than clothes or anything else. Except for knowing how to treat a lady and a horse, that is."
Miss Lolita coughed. "So I've been elevated to the same rank as a horse. Imagine that."
Todd laughed. Actually laughed. Cole stopped and whirled around to watch. His son seemed like a happy child most of the time, but he rarely laughed out loud this way. Something in Cole's chest swelled near bursting.
"Supper ready?" Cole called, needing to break the spell this strange woman had cast on them.
"Sure thing, Pa." Taking the woman's hand again, the boy led his new "teacher" toward the small cabin's front door.
With a sigh, Cole clicked his tongue at Ruth and decided he'd better hurry before their guest said something she shouldn't. Just before the pair vanished through the opening, Miss Lolita–no, he'd best start thinking of her as "Miss Jackie"–waggled her fingers at Cole in an exaggerated way.
His breath caught on a gasp as blood rushed from his head to his loins like a mountain stream during spring thaw. For three weeks, he would live in this tiny cabin with a woman as mystifying and stimulating–Lord help him–as any he'd ever known.
With only an nine-year-old-boy as chaperon.
* * *
Jackie was determined to charm both the Morrison males until they were ready to do anything she asked. Like return her to Devil's Gulch for her portrait sitting. Pretty unfair of fate to send her back to a time before her portal existed. However, if that were true, then how had she landed here in the first place? Don't think about it, Clarke. It probably violates the Prime Directive.
Squinting, she shook her head and banished the confusing thoughts. She had enough to worry about just surviving in this time without trying to understand how and why she was here.
The cabin was one open room downstairs with a loft that ran its entire width upstairs. A pair of shuttered windows flanked the front door, and two narrow bunks were pushed against the back wall under the loft, separated by a bookshelf built floor to ceiling. The shelves were filled with books and magazines, seeming out of place in a miner's cabin. But then, she'd already surmised that Cole Morrison was anything but typical.
A rectangular table, a pair of benches, a rocking chair, a barrel, and a pie safe were the only other furnishings. Clothing hung from pegs along the back wall between the bunks; pots and pans occupied the walls nearest the fireplace.
"Home away from home," she muttered. The cabin was pure Americana. The one where Blade had abandoned her was decorated in Early Garage Sale.
Blade. The memory of his look alike slammed into her and her blood turned frigid all over again. It couldn't have been Blade. Could it?
"Miss Jackie, I hope you like beans and cornbread," Todd said, ladling beans and broth onto tin plates from an iron kettle suspended over the fire.
"Beans are fine, Todd," she said, forcing thoughts of Blade and time travel from her mind. "First, tell me where the, uh, outhouse is, then I'll wash up and give you a hand. Deal?"
The boy's narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug and he flashed her a gap-toothed grin. "Straight out back. Take a light. It's getting dark and we get bears around this time of year."
Bears? She gulped as Todd lit a second lantern and handed it to her. The boy's expression more closely resembled that of an adult than a child. "You're pretty grown up for nine," she said.
Another shrug, but no grin this time. "I gotta help Pa any way I can."
Jackie's throat clogged. This little boy had lost his mother and lived in isolation with his father. Her heart opened to him, but she closed her eyes and sent out an emotional torpedo. Mission: search and destroy her caring genes. She'd opened her heart to Blade and look where that had landed her.
Abandoned. Unloved. Alone. Status quo.
She went out the back door, found the outhouse–she'd thought her days with outhouses were gone forever–took care of business, then hurried back inside. She considered herself lucky not to have seen a single bear during her adventure.
Cole still wasn't there, but Todd greeted her with another boyish grin. What a cute kid.
"You gonna wear Pa's hat all night, Miss Jackie?"
I just might. For some reason, she didn't want to show Todd her hair. This was the Victorian era–ladies didn't dye their hair, and especially not such a brazen shade. Brazen, Clarke?
"What can I do to help?" she asked, ignoring his comment about the hat. For now.
"There's cups and fresh water over there." He inclined his head toward the barrel near the back door. "Pa hauled fresh water from the spring this morning."
"Three cups of water, then?" Jackie hoped they wouldn't all contract hepatitis. She'd never tasted water from a spring before–a well, yes, but never a spring. Did those bears Todd had mentioned relieve themselves in the spring? With a surrendering shudder, she took the cups Todd had indicated and dipped them into the barrel, then placed them on the table. "What else can I do?"
Todd deftly filled another cup with dark steaming liquid and placed it on the table. "Pa always wants coffee."
"That he does."
The sound of Cole's voice startled Jackie and she whirled around to find him watching her. His gaze was wary but gentle. He actually feared she might betray him to his son, even though she'd given her word. Why did the knowledge that he didn't completely trust her hurt? It shouldn't matter.
Another thought–a devious one–formed in her mind. Could she use the threat of telling Todd to coerce Cole into taking her back? She hated the idea immediately, but had to admit it made sense. Todd's opinion of his father was obviously Cole's weak spot. Jackie should wield that power. She should.
But she didn't want to.
She gave Cole a weak smile, remembering to play her role–but just what was her role? Temptress? No, desperate woman was a better fit. She sighed, convincing herself that she could pull off temptress with the best of them.
His gaze lifted to his hat still perched on her head and he cocked a questioning brow. Damn. She had to remove the hat now. No more excuses.
With a sigh, she slipped the hat from her head and handed it to its rightful owner. Cole stood there filling the doorway and the cabin with his incredibly macho presence. Despite his impressive size and strength, there was something endearing about a man who raised his son alone, who carried water to his dead wife's flowers, and who watched his language at home.
You need to torpedo those effing caring genes again, Clarke.
With a nod, Cole took the hat and hung it on a peg near the door. "I washed up outside and I'm starved," he said. "Let's eat."
Jackie followed him to the table and slid onto the bench beside Todd. She felt his gaze on her and she knew why. Dammit. Sighing, she half-turned and gave him a wan smile. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape.
"It isn't nice to stare, Todd," Cole said quietly, reaching for his coffee and taking a sip.
"I...ain't never seen hair that color before." Todd's incredulous tone matched his expression.
"Don't say ain't," Jackie whispered and took a sip of her water. At least it didn't taste like bear pee. Not that she knew what bear pee tasted like,
of course.
"How'd your hair get that color?" Todd pressed.
"An accident." Jackie glowered at Cole, noticing the way his lips twitched and his eyes twinkled. He was laughing at her. Damn him. "I didn't mean for it to turn exactly this color."
"You mean you dyed your hair?" Todd's obvious shock stung. "I didn't know teachers did–"
"Miss Jackie told you it was an accident, Todd. That's enough." Cole took another sip of coffee, then set his cup down and folded his hands in front of him. "Did I miss the blessing?"
"No, sir."
"Well?"
Jackie smiled to herself while Todd muttered a brief prayer. Cole had rescued her, even though he'd been silently laughing at her, too. She owed him one. She peered through her lashes at his dark head across the table from her.
"Amen," Todd said, grabbing the cornbread.
"Amen," Cole echoed, looking up to capture Jackie's gaze with his drop-dead-gorgeous eyes. Bedroom eyes.
Her breath caught and heat settled low and heavy in her belly. Maybe she owed him more than one? The man oozed sex appeal and she had a hunch he didn't even know it. That made him all the more desirable.
All the more dangerous.
Blade had recognized and used his looks as a highly effective weapon. Against her. Deep down–really deep– she'd probably known all along that their fling would never be anything permanent. The truth was, she'd been starving for male affection and had easily fallen victim to his charms.
And now a man every bit as good-looking–all right, even better–was charming her without even trying. And he was a nice man, not a con artist. Anyone could see that by the way he treated his son.
But he's also a kidnapper.
Then why didn't she feel like a hostage?
She narrowed her gaze, watching Cole crumble a piece of cornbread over his beans. He scooped up a spoonful and raised it toward his lips, stopping halfway there to meet her gaze.
His lips curved in a boyish grin that stole her breath, then he resumed eating. On the other hand, maybe he did know what he was doing to her. He certainly knew when and how to apply his killer smile. Her only defense was to turn his flirtations right back at him. Maybe a bit risky, but what fun....
Summoning what she hoped was a sultry expression, she slipped the tip of her tongue across her lower lip, then pursed her lips into a kissable pout and reached for her spoon. He didn't move while she ate her beans and half a piece of cornbread. She reached for her water and took a sip, peering at him over the cup's metal rim. His Adam's apple traveled the length of his throat and back again, his blue eyes darkening to cobalt. No doubt about it–Cole Morrison wanted her.
Heat suffused her as her flirtation backfired with a vengeance. She wanted him, too. Badly.
She was in big trouble.
Her sip of water trickled down the wrong way and she coughed, setting her cup aside and reaching for the square of blue fabric she assumed was her napkin. Tears gathered in her eyes and Todd reached over to pound her back right between her shoulder blades.
"You all right, Miss Jackie?" the boy asked.
Jackie nodded and ventured a peek at Cole, who sat there grinning again, his expression far less intense now. He folded his arms across his trim abs and leaned back, a smug, knowing glint in his eyes. Then the man had the audacity to wink at her.
Oh, yeah, Clarke, you're in really big trouble.
Chapter 7
Cole retreated to the cabin's small front porch and gazed up at the stars. The evening air was cool and still; an owl hooted in the distance. From inside, he heard his son laughing again at the mystery woman's strange bedtime story about space travel and someone named Yoda. Cole couldn't recall a character by that name in Jules Verne's most recent novel, and he'd read it three times.
Who was Jackie Clarke and how had she ended up as a very bad saloon singer named Lolita Belle? Lolita was obviously a stage name and a successful one at that. Recalling the miners' response to her singing, he chuckled quietly and shook his head. There was just no accounting for taste.
"May the Force be with you, Grasshopper," Lolita-Jackie said from inside the cabin. "Live long and prosper, and nanu nanu."
Todd's giggles approached the hysterical point, and guilt pressed down on Cole. His son was being cheated out of his childhood. Lolita-Jackie or whoever was a welcome change in the boy's life.
Imagine that. A saloon singer had brought more joy to his son's life in one evening than Cole had in the years since Elizabeth's death. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against a post.
Cole hadn't planned for Todd to grow up so fast, but the boy had always insisted on helping. Come to think of it, Todd might have learned to cook just to avoid his pa's lousy attempts. A wistful smile tugged at Cole's lips and he sighed, determined to help his son learn to be a child again.
"He's ready for his dad to tuck him in," Lolita-Jackie said from the doorway.
Cole spun around on his heel and stared at her. Lamplight spilled out around her from inside, igniting her red hair until it glowed. He could barely see her expression, but he could've sworn he saw concern in her eyes. She stepped onto the porch and Cole slipped inside, trying not to dwell on the cause of her concern. If it existed at all.
Todd was tucked into his bunk, his hands folded across his chest and his eyes wide open. Lying in bed with his hair tousled, the boy looked like the child he was, rather than the miniature adult he'd become since his mother's death.
"Thanks, Pa," Todd whispered as Cole bent down to kiss his son's forehead.
"For what?" Cole tucked the quilt more securely around the boy's bony shoulders.
"For bringing me a teacher who tells funny stories."
As long as those funny stories weren't about saloons... Cole straightened, gazing down at his son. "You're welcome." His voice sounded gruff and he cleared his throat again. "Now get some shut-eye."
"Pa?"
"What?"
"Why don't you let Miss Jackie read some of your sto–"
"No." Cole bit the inside of his cheek. "Nobody wants to look at those."
"But–"
"No. Now get some sleep."
"All right." Disappointment dimmed the light in the boy's eyes. "'Night, Pa."
Cole squeezed his son's shoulder, his heart racing and his gut clenching. He'd never shared that secret side of himself with any outsider. "I'll think about it. All right?"
Todd smiled his mother's smile and Cole's heart broke all over again.
"'Night, Pa."
"'Night, son."
Cole blew out the lamp nearest the bed, but left the one on the hearth burning. He had to make sure Lolita-Jackie understood where she was to sleep, and what would be expected of her starting tomorrow.
She was the one who'd told Todd she was his teacher. Now, by damn, she'd have to live up to the boy's expectations. Cole paused near the door, clenching and unclenching his fists.
And so help him, if the woman hurt Todd in any way...
"Cole, come look quick," she called from outside, her voice washing over him like a cool breeze. "It's a shooting star."
Perplexing didn't begin to describe this woman, and he silently chastised himself for thinking she might harm Todd. He knew without knowing why that she would treat his son well.
Cole joined her at the porch rail, but he didn't even try to see the shooting star. Instead, he gazed at her profile bathed in moonlight and starlight.
She was looking up toward the sky, her small nose and full lips clearly defined by the silver moonlight. Her hair appeared dark and colorless, thank goodness, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He could almost forget her chosen profession and the circumstances that had brought her here when that red hair wasn't staring him in the face.
"Ah, you missed it." She turned and smiled, her teeth gleaming in the darkness. "I made a wish."
"Did you now?" What would a woman like her wish for? She probably had plenty of money tucked away somewhere, and he knew firsth
and that the miners adored her. What more could she want that she didn't already have? He remembered her comment about wanting a child. Was that her wish?
"I can't tell you what my wish is, or it won't come true." Her voice fell to a faint whisper and she looked away again. "Pretty stupid of me to be wishing for anything anyway."
He heard something in her voice he hadn't noticed since that first morning he'd dragged her out of the street in front of the Gold Mine Saloon. Fear and futility. He thought back to that morning, her insistence that she wasn't Lolita, and her plea for his help. He'd turned his back on her then, and later he'd kidnapped her for pay.
You're lower than low, Morrison. He couldn't undo what he'd already done, but he could try to make amends, especially since she'd inadvertently become his son's teacher and a houseguest rather than–he winced–a hostage.
"I want to apologize, Miss Lolita," he said quietly, not wanting his son to overhear.
"Call me Jackie, please," she said. "Apologize for what? Kidnapping me?"
"Partly." He nodded and looked up at the stars. "And for not believing you when you asked me for help." He felt her gaze on him, but he didn't look at her. "I'm still not clear why you needed help, or why you insist you aren't Lolita, but a gentleman doesn't turn away from a lady in distress." Repentant, he faced her. "I did."
"Why, Cole Morrison, are you calling me a lady?"
Her tone was light, but he heard the intense undercurrent she kept barely in check. "Yes, ma'am," he said, remembering the way Todd had taken to her. "I reckon I am."
"I'm flattered." She turned away and looked toward the mountains, towering dark masses against the star-strewn sky. "I probably don't deserve that distinction, though. My great-aunt certainly never thought so."
"Well, maybe she doesn't know everything." He touched her arm and she turned to face him again. "And I thank you for being so good to Todd."
"He's an adorable little boy." She smiled again, rubbing her hands along her upper arms. "He has his daddy's killer smile."
Cole chuckled. "Killer, huh?"
"At the very least."
He sighed. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry about...everything."
