A Kiss for Cade

by Lori Copeland

  Her tone was snappish and she meant it to be. He had no right to march in and assume nothing had changed. Everything had changed, especially where he was concerned.

  Brody suddenly grabbed Will around the neck and wrestled him to the floor. “Give me back my slingshot. I know you took it!”

  “Did not!”

  “Did too!”

  Will set up a howl as Zoe waded in and broke up the scuffle. “Will did not take your slingshot, mister. I put it away. You’ve broken two windows and a slop jar this week.”

  Brody hung his head. Will punched him in the arm. “See. I told you I didn’t take it.”

  “For heaven’s sake, boys! Isn’t there enough commotion going on without this? All four of you children go out back and play. Nicely.”

  Holly glanced at Cade, who was watching the fracas. “But what if he leaves again?”

  “He’s not going anyplace,” Zoe said. “Go out and make sure the boys don’t get their clothes dirty. They’ve changed twice today already.”

  “I don’t wanna go outside,” Missy said, twirling a long blond braid. “Bwody tied my haiw to the pump handle yestewday.”

  Zoe gave Brody a withering look that made his head dip even lower. “Go on, Missy. I want to talk to your Uncle Cade alone. I can assure you, Brody will not tie your hair to anything.” She looked at Brody. “Isn’t that right?”

  He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The children left in a noisy flurry as Zoe returned to the front of the store. Cade followed close behind her and helped himself to a handful of crackers and a chunk of cheese.

  Grinning, he lifted a brow at her playfully. “Make sure they don’t get dirty? Isn’t that asking a lot of boys?”

  “You don’t have to do the wash.”

  “Looks like John and Addy did a good job with the kids.”

  “They’re bright and intelligent children.” She watched his face sober.

  “Why did Addy leave their welfare up to me?”

  She shrugged. “You’re the only family left.”

  “Did Laticia die?”

  “No, but she’s seventy-five years old. She and Abraham are hardly in a position to raise children.”

  “Abraham? Is that old black driver still around?”

  She nodded. “Still answering Laticia’s beck and call.”

  A glint of humor twinkled in his eyes as he bit into a cracker. “You’re a little tense, Red. Boys can’t get dirty? No supper, no room? What kind of hospitality is this?”

  Grabbing a cloth, she furiously wiped the counter, her patience at an end. “What did you expect, Cade? That you could waltz back in here and things would be exactly as they were when you left?”

  He slipped a piece of cheese into his mouth. “Still as prickly as a porcupine.”

  She snapped open a linen table napkin and refolded it. “Would it have hurt you to clean up a little before riding into town?”

  He grinned, slipping another piece of cheese off the blade of the knife. “You want to draw me a bath?”

  Her posture stiffened. “Frank Brighton has a hog trough you’re welcome to use.” She ignored his laugh and went on wiping the counter.

  Swallowing the cheese, he reached for an apple, studying her. “Addy wrote that you married Jim Bradshaw. How come?”

  The cleaning cloth hit the counter with a whack. “I waited nine years, Cade! Did you think I’d wait for you forever?”

  He took a bite of apple. “You said you’d wait for me, Red. Forever. Those were your exact words. What happened?”

  She turned to glare at him. “‘I’ll be back.’ Those were your words. What happened?”

  He shrugged. “Just because I haven’t come back doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to. When you jumped the gun and married another man I figured why waste the ride.”

  He was blaming her? Anger inflamed her—directed not so much at him but at her for being so vulnerable. No matter how often she told herself that seeing him again would make no difference, it did, and she hated it.

  “Speaking of forever, didn’t we take a blood oath we’d never marry anyone else?” He winked as he reached into the pickle barrel. “Looks like I’m the only one who took the vow to heart.”

  “You have a heart, Cade?”

  He sat down and propped his dusty boots on a barrel. “Sarcasm? Not like you, Red.”

  Years of frustration begged to be released, but she forced the urge aside. The children needed him. Their needs were foremost now. She walked past him and shoved his feet to the floor with a noisy jingle of spurs.

  “It’s late. You need to find someplace to light other than on my pickle barrel.”

  He got to his feet, shaving off another piece of cheese. “I thought I might bunk here for a few days.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  He helped himself to more crackers. “It’s not like we’re strangers—”

  Whirling, she hurled the rag at him. “I’m not seventeen anymore, Cade Kolby! And stop eating my food!”

  He ducked, and the cloth sailed to the floor.

  “And don’t act as though you left yesterday!” How dare he come in and assume that he owned the place!

  When he looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, she grabbed the cleaning rag and began polishing the counter harder. “And don’t think you’ll be hanging around here, with me doing your wash and cooking your meals. Just because I loved Addy doesn’t mean you can take advantage of me. Is that clear?” Turning around, she met his stare. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Don’t stand there eating my cheese and looking at me like that.”

  “You’ve changed.”

  “You’re right. I have.”

  It surprised her when his eyes softened. “Let’s try to keep this civil, Red.” His tone turned cajoling, soft. Dangerous.

  “Don’t call me Red.”

  “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  “Not to you, it isn’t.”

  “All right. Mrs. Bradshaw, is it?”

  “Zoe.”

  He nodded. “Zoe.” He sliced off another hunk of cheese. “So, what do you want me to do, Zoe? Jump off a cliff? If you’re mad because I didn’t come back right away, I always intended to come back for you.”

  “When? When exactly did you plan to come back for me?” She wasn’t amused by the twinkle in his eye. If he found the situation funny, then he had a misplaced sense of humor.

  “I’m back now, aren’t I?”

  Oh, he was exasperating. A woman would be a fool to fall for his ways, but she felt herself warming. Stop—now! common sense screamed.

  She stored the rag under the counter. “You made a long, useless ride if you’ve come back for me. You’d best be thinking about the kids.”

  “That’s why I’m here. Tell me what you want me to do.” He reached into a jar for a stick of horehound candy.

  When she frowned, he took the stick out of his mouth. “How much?”

  “Ten cents.”

  Digging into his pocket, he fished out a coin and flipped it to her. “Highway robbery. I buy them in Wichita for a penny a stick.”

  She smiled. “I charge a penny to anyone but you. How long do you plan to stay?”

  “As long as it takes.”

  He walked around the counter, and she backed away, realizing what he was about to do. “Cade, I forbid you to try anything foolish—”

  He caught her around the waist and pulled her up close. The warmth of his breath on her cheek unnerved her.

  “Calm down, wildcat.” She squirmed, and he pulled her tighter against him. “You have a right to be angry. I’m sorry. I apologize.”

  No matter how many times she’d told herself he would have no effect on her, he could still make her weak in the knees. She clamped her jaw shut and turned her face away. He was so near that she felt the scratch of his beard against her cheek. “It’s too late, Cade. You’re fifteen years too late.”

  He smiled. “Come on. Let’s not fi
ght. You’ve always been the one woman in my heart. How about a kiss for Cade? For old time’s sake.”

  Goose bumps rose on her arms as his hands slipped to the small of her back. He was more persuasive than she remembered, more appealing.

  “I’d rather eat rocks.”

  She freed herself, picked up his hat, and jammed it on his head. Planting both hands in the middle of his chest, she backed him toward the doorway. “Get yourself cleaned up, and then come back to visit your nieces and nephews. And don’t wait fifteen years to do it. And don’t expect me to be here when you get back. I will have Gracie oversee your visits. Make your decision about the kids and leave, Cade. The sooner the better.”

  He stumbled backward, surprised when she slammed the door in his face.

  She slid the bolt home. Then, on second thought, she jerked the door back open and snatched the cheese out of his hand.

  She banged the door shut and jerked down the Closed for Business shade, hoping he’d get the message.

  Chapter Five

  Chalmer Winslow polished his sheriff’s badge with the tip of his kerchief tied around his neck when Cade walked into the jail.

  “Hey, Pop. Good to see you.”

  As a kid, Cade had often hung around the jail. There wasn’t a lot of law-breaking in Winterborn, so parents allowed their children to play there while they tended business. Pop never had kids of his own, which was why he took to all the youngsters, handing out horehound candy sticks when they came to visit.

  “Well, well. Cade Kolby.” The old man got up to shake hands. “Heard you were coming back.” Chuckling, he studied Cade from head to toe. “You’ve grown a bit.”

  Cade clasped Pop’s hand affectionately. “I was born taller than you,” he teased. Actually, the last time Cade had seen him, the sheriff had been thirty pounds lighter and had fewer wrinkles.

  “Aw, I’m falling apart, but at sixty-eight, who’s complaining?” He smoothed his mustache with his forefinger and then rubbed the bald spot on top of his head.

  “I thought you might have turned in your badge by now.”

  “Nah, I’ll be here until they throw dirt in my face.” A wide grin split the older man’s face. “Look at you.” He squeezed Cade’s bicep. “All muscled up. Hard to believe you were that tall, scrawny whippersnapper who used to come in here, nosing into everything.”

  Cade glanced at the empty cell. “Looks like business is booming.”

  Pop laughed. “Chicken thieves are about it. Oh, and there was that bank robbery last year that got Zoe’s husband killed. We had that criminal for two days. Poor Jim Bradshaw. Just standing there making a deposit and bam! Shot dead.”

  “Addy wrote me about that. Zoe must have taken it real hard.”

  “You know Zoe. She’s tough as a boot.”

  Cade smiled. She certainly hadn’t had any trouble expressing herself a few minutes ago. His gaze roamed the small room. The jail hadn’t changed. It had the same battered wooden desk, potbellied stove, a couple of straight-backed chairs, and one cell that, if things were still as they had been before, wasn’t used much.

  Sitting down again at his desk, Pop propped up his feet and crossed his arms at the back of his neck. “So. Heard you got Luke Biglow.”

  Cade straddled a chair and sat down. “Luke and I bumped into each other around Houston a few months ago.”

  “Heard the reward was mighty hefty.”

  “Some people are worth more dead than alive.”

  “Tell me about it. Look at this.” Pop held up a handful of wanted posters. “Half my time’s spent nailing these up around town.”

  Cade took the notices from him and leafed through them, handing them back without comment.

  Pop’s features sobered. “Sure sorry about Addy and John. Sad for those young’uns. Zoe’s had her hands full lately.”

  “Maybe that’s why she’s in such a foul mood. She just threw me out of her store.”

  “She did? And you lookin’ so pretty.” Pop winked. “How long you stayin’?”

  “Not long.”

  “You plan on raising the kids? If not, there’s an Amish couple over near Salina that might be interested. But, you know, the Brightons sure do want ’em.”

  “The Brightons? Frank and Helen? Aren’t they a little old to take on four youngsters?”

  “Not Frank and Helen. They’re close to sixty now. Frank’s youngest boy and his wife, Seth and Bonnie. They got three of their own, but they want more. They’ve sent word they’d sure like to be considered. Seth’s building another room on and said he wants to have a whole houseful.”

  Cade got up and moved to the window. His gaze traced the town where he’d spent his youth. “I can’t keep them, Pop. I know that’s what Addy hoped I’d do, but I can’t.”

  Pop dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward. “I guess it’s a jolt to have four kids dropped into your lap.”

  Cade watched a wagon pull up in front of Zoe’s store. “They’ll need a better home than I can give them.” Pa and Ma had gone to their graves thinking their son had turned away from God. He hadn’t turned away, but he sure wasn’t the son Pa deserved. When he’d ridden away that day, he thought he was smarter than most. There were pennies on the dollar to be made around Winterborn. His family needed much more. The boys in this town could stick around and farm if they wanted, but he was looking for a better way to support the family. Pa pastored the local church until he took sick in Cade’s teens. Cade had been left to provide for the family. Sure, the congregation did all they could, but most folks in town had a hard time seeing to their own needs. He’d been proud after he nailed his first criminal. Arrogant. He’d made more money in that one arrest than he’d seen in his whole life. So he’d gone after another. And another. When he had to kill the first man, he’d cried, knowing what Pa would say. But money had a way of getting in your soul, under your skin, soothing the conscience. When word reached his folks of his new occupation, they refused the money. Wouldn’t touch a cent. It now sat in the local bank. Every red cent of it. Pa called it blood money.

  After every kill he promised it would be his last. Then he’d read a poster, see the price on the man’s head, and all of Pa’s teachings seemed distant, unrelated to the circumstance. He figured he was doing society a favor.

  “I think a lot of you, boy, but I have a tendency to agree. Those kids need some stability in their lives. You don’t stay in one place long enough to fry an egg, let alone raise a family.”

  Cade removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Pop was right. His home was a campfire and a bedroll. Children needed schooling, a roof over their heads, clean clothes, and three meals a day. What did he know about rearing kids? What did he know about family life, period?

  “It’d be hard for a man with your reputation to settle down even if he set his mind to it,” Pop said. “Some no-good would always be tryin’ to get you before you get them.”

  Cade agreed. “Hart McGill. Heard of him?”

  “McGill? Who hasn’t? He and his gang have terrorized half of Kansas. There ain’t a woman safe around any of ’em. What’s he done to you?”

  “Other than being a plague to society? He’s out to get me.”

  “What’s it to you? You’ve watched your back for years.”

  “I shot his baby brother.”

  “That’ll do it every time.”

  “It was either me or him. I chose me.” Cade returned to the chair and sat down. “Someday I’m going to settle down, have my own kids and my own little parcel of land, but that’s not in the immediate future. You’re right, Pop. There’s always someone out there looking for a fight. I don’t want to bring my trouble to Winterborn.” He owed that much to his family’s memory.

  Pop nodded, looking past Cade to the posters on the wall. “There’re some mean cusses out there, all right. But where could you go to escape them?”

  “I won’t. My past will follow me wherever I go, but someday I’m going to be too old for
this and I’ll have to quit. I’ve got a good nest egg put away. I wouldn’t be hurting for money. Maybe get a place down by the border…” Cade’s voice trailed off.

  “Mexico? Ain’t far enough, son. You’d still have to watch your back.”

  Cade knew that. He just didn’t like to think about it. “I’m going to need a place to sleep tonight, Pop.”

  Pop brow’s lifted. “That ain’t all you need. You could use a haircut. Walt’s raised his prices. Twenty-five cents. He’s got a gun to our heads, but we have to pay it. The baths out back don’t come cheap, either.”

  Cade laughed. “Zoe won’t let me near the kids until I clean up. I suppose GloriLee is still renting rooms?”

  “Not as many as she used to. It’s all she can do to keep up with the café. Anyway, she’s full up, I heard. You can either come home with me or take the bunk upstairs. It ain’t much—just a cot and a washstand. You’d have to take your meals elsewhere, but seeing as how you’re not going to be around long, it won’t matter.”

  “Zoe wants me to wrap up my business and clear out. Yet she also expects me to spend time with the kids.”

  “It’s not going to be easy. I don’t know anywhere you can keep them with you. If GloriLee had a room available, it wouldn’t be big enough to cuss a cat in, and my place can’t accommodate the five of you.”

  “I won’t be here long enough to set up housekeeping. My stay in Winterborn will be brief. McGill thinks I’m in St. Louis, and I want to keep it that way.”

  “Well, I’ll help you all I can. You want to come home with me?”

  “The bunk upstairs is fine.” Zoe would have to keep the kids until he could make arrangements for their adoption. “I don’t want to stay with you, anyway. You snore too loud.”

  Pop cackled. “Don’t you be spreadin’ a rumor like that, boy!”

  “Rumor? When Addy and I used to play in here, you’d be reared back in your chair, raising the roof.”

  Pop heaved his bulk out of the seat, put his arm around Cade’s shoulders, and walked him to the door. “You squaredance?”

  “You asking?”

  “Still full of it, aren’t you? There’s a dance over at the hall every Saturday night. I know it ain’t proper for you to come tomorrow night, so soon after Addy’s death, but keep it in mind. You could ask Zoe. You two used to be sweet on each other, weren’t you?”