by Jeanne Allan
“Not that way, Gwen. Like me.” Crissie drummed her legs on either side of her mount.
“We’re at the fair and we’re going to have fun,” Jake said softly.
Reminding her. Resisting a childish urge to stick her tongue out at him, Gwen bent and twisted her left leg until she managed to sling it over so she straddled the horse.
“I knew it,” Jake said. “He’s perfect for you.”
Gwen glanced down at the worn horse’s head. “Why is he perfect for me?” she demanded suspiciously. “He’s so old even a greenhorn can ride him?”
“Greenhorn?” Jake’s mouth twitched. “Anyone who can handle Susie, can handle this wild stallion.”
Gwen suspected the wildest stallion on the merry-go-round stood between her and Crissie, his arm resting easily on the back of Crissie’s horse. The notion, entirely without basis, startled Gwen. Then music blared, and her horse jerked and began his ascent. Her leg brushed Jake’s shoulders. She had to say something. “Isn’t this fun, Crissie?”
Crissie laughed, her words lost to the wind and the music.
Jake grinned up at Gwen. “A tough cowgirl like you, maybe you ought to enter the rodeo this afternoon.”
Riding a bucking bronco couldn’t make her heart thump any harder than it thumped now. Each upward and downward move of the merry-go-round horse brought Gwen’s thigh into contact with Jake’s rock-solid shoulder. Gwen stared straight ahead. Other parents stood beside their children. They didn’t take up more than their share of the space between two horses. Jake Stoner had a devilish streak in him. He enjoyed disconcerting Gwen. “You don’t like working for a woman, do you?”
He gave her a quizzical look. “What maggot do you have in your brain now?”
“That’s why you’re always harassing me. Giving me orders.” The ride slowed to a halt, the music stopping. Gwen jumped off the horse while Jake lifted Crissie off. “Insisting I do what you want me to do, when you want me to do it. Bullying me. I told you I didn’t want to ride.” Thinking out loud, she began to work up a head of steam. “What I wanted didn’t matter to you. You physically picked me up and forced me to ride. Maybe I’m afraid of heights. Maybe I have something wrong with my ears so I get sick when I go around in circles.”
“Do you?”
“That’s irrelevant. When I say I want to do something or I don’t want something, that’s my business. Not yours. Quit telling me what to do. Ouch.” She bumped into the metal awning attached to one of the food trailers.
“You okay?”
“No thanks to you. Why didn’t you tell me I was walking into that?”
“I suppose I could have told you to watch where you were going. I could have told you to duck. Thought about it.” He shrugged. “But you ordered me to quit telling you what to do.”
“You know very well that’s not what I meant.”
“You mean when you give orders, I’m supposed to stop and figure out whether or not you mean them before I follow them?”
“You are deliberately twisting my meaning.”
“Did you know your eyes kind of sparkle when you get annoyed? Like sunlight bouncing off a wet frog. Stay here and hold Gwen’s hand.” Putting Crissie on the ground, Jake walked away.
Gwen stared after him, not sure whether to laugh or throw her purse at him.
“Jake’s nice. I like him.”
Gwen looked down at her niece. “Crissie Mary Ashton, you have rocks in your head.”
Crissie shook her head back and forth. “Don’t hear rocks.” She looked up past Gwen. “Do you got rocks in your head?”
Jake rejoined them. “Did Gwen say I do?”
“Me.” Crissie shook her head again. “Don’t hear them.” Looking up, her eyes widened. “I wanna go up. Way up.”
Gwen absentmindedly gave Crissie’s hand to Jake. “My eyes make you think of a wet frog?”
“Only when you’re annoyed. When you’re pondering, I think of a little backwater place I know in Texas along the Guadalupe River in the shade of big ol’ overhanging cypress trees where the water moves slow and sluggish like thick, green molasses.” Jake’s soft drawl caressed the words.
Gwen mentally shook off their mesmerizing effect. “If wet frogs, sluggish water and green molasses are your idea of compliments, I hope you never get around to insulting me.”
His gaze held hers. “Now, honey, you wouldn’t by any chance be bad-mouthing my favorite spot on the river, would you?”
She watched in fascination as currents swirled around in gray eyes. Something warm flickered and disappeared in the back of his eyes. Replaced by cool amusement which brought Gwen to her senses. “Don’t call me honey.”
“Yes, ma’am, boss lady.” The amusement deepened.
Welcoming the tug on her leg, Gwen looked down.
Crissie’s eager face beamed up at her. “I wanna ride.” Crissie squeezed Gwen’s leg. “Ride around.”
“Around what?” Gwen belatedly realized Jake had guided them into a line for a ride. She looked up. Way up. “We’re not riding the Ferris wheel. Crissie is too little.”
“Don’t worry. She’s safe with me. She’ll love it.”
The line they stood in advanced toward the ride. “I’m not getting on the Ferris wheel,” Gwen hissed at Jake.
“You’d trust Crissie to ride alone with me?” Jake asked in surprise.
“No. Yes. That’s not the point.” Only one couple stood between them and the head of the line.
“What is the point?”
Gwen bit her lip. She didn’t want to say it in front of Crissie.
After a second, Jake said gently, “Trust me, honey. Nothing will happen to you as long as you’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.”
They were next. The attendant stopped a seat, pushed back the safety bar and waited for them. Jake walked up to the ride, set Crissie down in the middle of the seat and turning, held out his hand to Gwen.
“Hurry up,” Crissie said impatiently, kicking her feet.
Gwen wanted to cut and run. She couldn’t. Not when it seemed the entire population of Colorado stood in line waiting to get on the ride. They’d all see her. And know what a coward she was. Gwen moved slowly toward the seat. Crissie’s kicking made it swing. Gwen thought about the seat swinging on top of the arc and her stomach churned. Barely noticing Jake’s look of approval, she gingerly climbed in beside Crissie and sat. The seat rocked as Jake added his weight. The attendant snapped the safety bar into place, tested it, then pushed the seat into the air. Gwen’s stomach headed for her toes. Grabbing the bar, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
Sitting between Gwen and Jake, Crissie let out a shriek. “We’re swinging. Swinging really high.”
Some things Gwen really didn’t want to know. As they rose, her hands gripped the safety bar so hard she knew her knuckles must be white. The Ferris wheel stopped. Stopping was worse than moving. The seat swayed and Gwen swallowed a moan. A hand firmly squeezed her left hand, then slid past. A steel arm pressed against her below her breasts. Gwen opened her eyes a slit. Placing his right hand between her hands, Jake bent his elbow so that his arm fenced Gwen and Crissie against the back of the seat. Gwen cautiously opened her eyes a smidgen more. They had stopped at the highest point on the ride. Her eyelids snapped back down.
“Sit very still,” Jake said to Crissie. “Don’t move a foot, or a leg, or a hand. You’re a little bird sitting up in a very tall tree. You don’t want the other birds to know you’re here.”
“Why not?” Crissie asked.
“It’s a bird game.”
“What kind of bird game?”
“Um, you’re looking for worms. The bird who stays the stillest gets the most worms.”
“Worms. Yuk!”
Gwen almost smiled at Crissie’s revulsion. It would serve Jake right if Crissie lost her lunch all over him. She considered saying so, but with a lurch the ride started again. They swooped toward the ground. Gwen’s hat caught the wind and sailed away. She didn�
�t even bother to look. The wheel went around again and again and again. Gwen squeezed her eyelids tighter.
“You make it worse when you close your eyes.”
“I’ll bet you’ve never been, uh, whatever, in your life.”
“Bet me twenty kisses that I haven’t?”
Gwen’s eyes popped open. “Certainly not.”
“Ten kisses?”
“Dream on.”
“Five kisses.”
“No.”
“How about one long, wet, sloppy, very enthusiastic kiss?”
Gwen swallowed hard. “I don’t...” She cleared her throat. “There’s no way to bet on something like that. You could tell me anything so you’d win.”
“You think I’d lie to you?”
“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “Would you?”
His face closed up. “Only if I had to.”
“Had to,” she repeated thoughtfully. “And what would force you to lie to me? Winning a bet? Getting your own way?”
Jake’s eyes danced with laughter. “I don’t have to lie to get my own way.”
“I was quiet and didn’t move,” Crissie chorused. “I get worms. I don’t wanna eat ’em.”
Jake laughed. “How about popcorn instead?” He held out his hand to Gwen. “Don’t tell me you want to ride again?”
Gwen shook her head and looked around. The wheel had stopped at the bottom and the attendant waited impatiently for them to get off. Gwen jumped up and rushed down the ramp, avoiding the eyes of those in line. At the bottom, she grabbed Crissie’s hand and stomped off down the wide row between the rides.
Jake caught easily up with them. “Popcorn’s this way.”
Gwen skidded to a halt. Jamming her fists against her hips, she glared at him. “That was a low-down dirty trick, Jake Stoner.”
He had her hat. Knocking it against his thigh to remove the dust, he plunked it down on her head. “What was? Taking your mind off the ride or not winning the bet so you could give me a kiss?”
CHAPTER SIX
GWEN straightened her hat. “I didn’t make any stupid bet.” Holding Crissie’s hand, she moved on through the fairgrounds. “You know very well you couldn’t have come up with one stupid thing you’ve ever been afraid of. And no,” she said as he opened his mouth, “I don’t want to bet.”
“Afraid you’ll lose?” Jake strolled along at her side.
Crissie yanked on Gwen’s hand. “I want popcorn.”
“You are a bottomless pit,” Gwen said before turning to Jake. “All right. Name one thing you’ve ever been afraid of in your entire life.”
“Green eyes.”
“I knew you couldn’t come up with anything.”
“There’s popcorn.” Crissie jumped up and down between them. “Popcorn. Popcorn.”
Jake bought three boxes of popcorn and handed them out. They walked slowly toward the animal barns.
“Horsewhips,” he said conversationally. “When my step-father was drunk.”
Startled, Gwen turned to stare at him, a handful of popcorn halfway to her mouth. “What?”
“Even riding hell-for-leather around a herd of stampeding wild steers in the middle of a night storm didn’t scare me as much as that damned whip did when I was growing up.”
In Gwen’s world, men didn’t whip children. “I thought cows didn’t stampede anymore.” She fastened onto the part of the conversation she could deal with. “Bert said Texas cows were the ones who did that. On cattle drives.”
“Bert was right.”
“But you just said...”
Jake winked at her. “You ought to know a man’ll say anything for a kiss.”
“It didn’t work, because I didn’t believe you. Not for a single second.” Not about the stampede. The whipping she wasn’t so sure about. Something about Jake’s eyes. She repressed a shudder and welcomed Crissie’s squeal.
“Look!” The little girl ran toward a circular pen where a few small goats milled around.
Before Gwen could react, Jake caught up with Crissie, capturing her mid-dash. “Slow down, pardner. You don’t want to scare the animals.” He handed Gwen their popcorn boxes, and led Crissie to the enclosure’s gate.
Gwen stood outside the pen watching as Jake, down on one knee, sheltered Crissie with one arm while he coaxed a baby goat over to them. Gwen couldn’t hear their conversation, but Crissie gingerly held out one hand. The small kid sniffed at her fingers, then licked. The popcorn, Gwen thought, as Crissie giggled. Another goat crowded up to them, and then a third. When a fourth shoved his way in, Jake stood up, balancing Crissie on his hip. Both were laughing. One of the goats rose up on his hind legs, and Crissie’s excited voice rose above the fair hubbub. She thought the goat was dancing.
When the two rejoined Gwen, Crissie bubbled with excitement. “Did you see, Gwen? Did you see? They liked me. I wanna goat.”
Gwen laughed. “You want everything.”
“Gonna see rabbits now,” Crissie said importantly. “Jake said.”
They toured the rabbits, the chickens, the ducks, the sheep, and the llamas, Crissie alternating between holding her nose and making animal sounds which she insisted the animals understood. By the time they reached the cow barn, the little girl noticeably lagged.
“I think it’s time we headed for home,” Gwen said.
“No. More fair.”
Catching Gwen’s eye, Jake ruefully shook her head. “She’s got more energy than I do. I need a nap. And I know just the place to take one.”
Jake stretched out on the blanket, his hands folded beneath his head. Beside him, Crissie’s small chest rose and fell as she slept. She was a cute little kid. He kind of liked the way she trailed around after him, looking up at him as if he were some kind of god. Even if it was only because she had no father. All kids needed a pa. No one knew that better than he did.
He’d wanted sons to carry on his name. Carry on with the ranch. Take over the cattle empire he’d been building. His mouth twisted derisively. A man never knew what would destroy his dreams.
Glancing down at Crissie, he noticed Gwen had missed a smear of mustard on the child’s mouth. He hadn’t thought about having girls, but that would have been all right, too. Girls to dangle on his knee and care for him in his old age.
Except he didn’t have to worry about growing old. His life had ended at age thirty-one.
Crossing his booted feet, Jake tipped his hat over his face. He had a feeling it’d be a while before he saw Gwen again. Doris had told him about the historical museum housed in the old Carnegie library building. She’d said Gwen wanted to visit the museum, but she’d never had the time or opportunity. Since Doris had arranged with Jake to meet here so she could ride back to the ranch with them, Jake had guided Gwen and Crissie to the large parklike lawn and sent Gwen inside while he and Crissie rested in the shade. Gwen had halfheartedly argued she couldn’t dump Crissie on him, but she’d been moving toward the museum even as she protested.
Jake didn’t understand why history interested Gwen so much. He’d lived it and preferred modern times. Gwen always smelled of some exotic soap. He wondered how she’d have liked washing up in a basin or heating water to fill a metal bathtub. He grinned. Or how she’d like outhouses in the middle of a winter night. She thought nothing of hopping in the car and driving into Rocky Ford this morning. Used to be, covering twelve to fifteen miles a day, it would have taken most of a week to move cattle that far.
. Gwen openly envied people with what she called “roots.” People who stayed in one place. Back when he was alive, most people Jake knew were on the move. Searching for something or running from something. His ma hadn’t wanted to leave her kinfolk in Tennessee, but Pa wanted his own land. Gwen was like Pa. Taking on something they knew nothing about, armed only with their dreams.
There’d been a time when Jake had dreams. Dreams which included a big house, like some of those around Gruene in Texas. He’d started to build that house, and then Ma’s letter had
come. His ma didn’t come out and say it, but reading between the lines, Jake knew his step-father had taken to whipping Luther, too. Jake had been lucky, hiring on with honorable men. Luther had fallen in with bad company and become an owl-hoot, as many called the outlaws in Jake’s day.
Marian had been appalled when Jake decided the only way to find Luther was to look for him on the owl-hoot trail. Jake wondered what Gwen would think if she knew he’d been on the owl-hoot. He suspected she’d think if that’s what he had to do to find his brother, then that’s what he had to do.
Footsteps moved across the grass. Beneath the brim of his hat, Jake cracked open one eye. Doris’s shoes came into view, then Doris as she lowered herself to the edge of the blanket and opened a book. He’d speak to her in a minute.
A poke in his side wakened Jake. From long habit, he lay still, feigning sleep. Blue-jean clad knees rested inches from him. His hat hid the owner of the jeans from his view. A hand pressed tightly over his mouth. Disoriented from sleep, Jake couldn’t remember where he was. Was he alone? Why was he sleeping during daylight hours? Covertly he slid his hand down along his side. His gun was gone. Something prodded him again. Not a gun. A finger. Without further thought, Jake flipped his body over on the intruder, snatching the hand over his mouth, and at the same instant, grabbing the hand poking him in the side.
“Oomph. Get off, you idiot.”
The low voice hissing in Jake’s ear immediately swept away the lingering remnants of sleep. Gwen lay pinned to the ground beneath him. A state of affairs he didn’t exactly find displeasing. The look on Gwen’s face suggested she didn’t share his opinion. He levered himself off her. “Sorry. You took me by surprise.”
Gwen made a frantic shushing motion, then pressed a finger against her lips and pointed to the blanket with her other hand. Jake followed her pointing finger to where Crissie slept on, unperturbed by the fracas. Doris winked at him. He turned back to Gwen. She rose to her feet and brushed off her jeans. Motioning him to follow her, she stalked off without a backward glance.
Jake strolled along behind Gwen admiring the scenery. A stem of grass clung to the back of her jeans. He contemplated slowly brushing it off. Fitting his hand to the curve of her backside. A glance at the tautness of her spine and he reluctantly reconsidered the notion. Amazing how much a man could read in the thrust of a woman’s shoulder blades and the flounce of her hips. Gwen was one riled lady.
