Charming Jo

by Laura Drewry

  Tears began to roll down Ginny’s cheeks.

  “Goddamn it.” Mac slapped both palms against the side of the house. “If you hurt her again. . .”

  “Won’t happen.” Levi still didn’t step back, even when Ginny patted his shirt and offered him a small smile.

  “If it does--”

  “She’ll shoot me long before you even have your gun loaded.”

  “My gun’s always loaded.”

  “Does this mean you won’t be going to San Francisco after all?” Carrie asked, her perfectly made-up face tilted to the side.

  “For Christ’s sake, Carrie.” Mac rounded on his niece, but was again held back by a now beaming Ginny.

  “Language, Mac.”

  “I’m just asking,” Carrie snipped.

  Ginny ushered the two of them back into the house, leaving Levi on the porch to catch his breath. Wasn’t long, though, before Will stepped out.

  “Hiding, were you?” Levi asked, gripping the porch rail and leaning his backside against it.

  “Damn right,” Will chuckled. “Didn’t want to be anywhere near him if he was gonna start swinging again. And for a minute there--”

  Levi laughed, too, but nothing felt funny to him. “You heard?”

  “Hell, Travers. There’s a dead man in New York who musta heard.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “You’re probably right. Joanna’s gonna skin me alive.”

  “Why d’you say that?”

  “She loves that old bastard,” he grumbled. “Last thing she’ll want is me making him go off like that again.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Did you see his face? For a minute there, I thought he was going burst open.”

  Will offered him a grin and a shrug. “At least there’s no question about where you stand with him.”

  “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Sure.”

  A soft breeze cooled the sweat on the back of Levi’s neck, but did little to ease the tension in his gut.

  “Some of the things he said, though--”

  “Like what?” Will adjusted his hat. “You mean the parts about you being a bastard? And your ma being a whore?”

  He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Will.

  “Nothing you can do about those two facts, Travers,” his friend said. “You were born a bastard. Not your fault, just bad luck, I guess. But that old man in there is a bastard by choice.”

  “I’m doubting Joanna’s going to see it that way.”

  “Oh, hell, Travers,” Will chuckled. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and no matter what he said, or where you come from, that girl’s stupid in love with you.”

  Levi wished he felt as sure as Will sounded.

  “Besides, unless I’m off my mark,” Will went on, a mocking grin splitting his face. “Don’t matter how mad you make her, she ain’t gonna skin you. There’s a few other things she probably wants to do to you, but skinnin’ you ain’t one of them.”

  Levi couldn’t help but grin through the heat rushing up his neck. God he hoped Will was right, because he had plenty of things he wanted to do to her, too.

  Will moved in beside him. “Guess this means you’re staying here, then?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “What about all that talk of seeing the ocean?”

  He hadn’t thought about that in a long time. “Seen one ocean, you’ve seen them all, right?”

  With another shrug and grin, Will turned to face the yard. “Never thought I’d see you like this – giving up everything for a woman.”

  “I’m not giving up anything,” he said. “I’m getting everything.”

  “Jee-zuz, Travers. She’s really done a number on you, hasn’t she?”

  “Yup.” Levi answered, completely unashamed.

  “And you’re really going to be fine living here for the rest of your life?”

  “Yup.” He nodded toward the kitchen door. “Though I don’t imagine it’ll be much fun for the first while.”

  “Ah, he’ll get over it. Just so long as you don’t go and do something stupid. Like you usually do.”

  “Thanks, Will,” Levi chuckled.

  They stood in silence for a while, watching the night close in around them. A lightening bug flitted by and landed on one of Ginny’s rose bushes.

  “What are your plans?” Levi asked. “Will you stay on here?”

  “Nah.” Will shook his head. “I’m not the ranching kind, you know that. I reckon I’ll head west when we’re done here.”

  “What about Carrie?”

  The question hung like a fog between them.

  “I don’t rightly know,” Will finally answered. “She’s pretty set on going.”

  “I know, but--”

  Will slapped Levi on the shoulder and made his way down the steps. “We’ll see what happens, my friend. In the meantime, you might want to go see if your young Miss Joanna loves you enough to spite her uncle and marry your sorry hide.” He nodded toward the barns. “No time like the present.”

  Levi couldn’t stop the huge grin. Or the quake that rocked him in his boots. How would she feel when she found out the truth about him – that he really was the bastard son of a whore? It had been one thing to let Mac throw it back in his face, but the thought of Joanna doing the same scared the bejeepers out of him.

  o0o

  Jo lingered by the barn door, the pitchfork in one hand, her dirty old bandana crunched in the other. She strained to see the house through the stand of cottonwoods, but could only make out shadows.

  No shots had been fired, so that was a good thing, wasn’t it? Unless, of course, Mac had beat Travers to death this time.

  A shadowy figure moved through the trees toward the barns. Travers? No, whoever it was swaggered too much. Had to be Will.

  “You heard?” he asked, a strange smile lifting his lip.

  She shrugged. “Some.” In truth, all she’d heard was Mac roaring.

  He wrapped his hand around the handle of the pitchfork and gently tugged it from her grip. “Travers needs to see a friendly face when he gets down here, not someone brandishing anything that could be used as a weapon.”

  “I. . .” she grinned guiltily. Surely Travers hadn’t told Will about the first time in the barn. When she spoke next, it was barely a whisper. “Is he okay?”

  Will laughed. “I think he’s more scared of you than that uncle of yours.” He made to walk past, then stopped and turned back. “He ain’t never been this way with a woman before, so he’s more ‘n likely gonna do some stupid fool things that’ll make you want to kill him yourself.”

  A small lump crept up Jo’s throat. This was the most Will had spoken to her in all the time he’d been at the ranch.

  “I’m only telling you that so you’ll go easy on him. He’s pretty unsure of himself right now.”

  She couldn’t hold back the snort. “Travers? Are you sure we’re talking about the same man?”

  Will didn’t even crack a smile. “That’s what has me worried.” He lifted his left shoulder in an almost shrug. “I’ll be seeing you in the morning.”

  “Yes,” she hurried to answer. “Good night, Will.”

  When his cabin door closed behind him, silence surrounded Jo. Not a single sound broke the air; not a mockingbird’s call, not a coyote’s howl, not even a peep from the chickens.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths short and ragged.

  “Good grief,” she muttered to herself. “It’s bad enough you left him alone with Mac. The least you can do is go to him now.”

  Even if it meant he and Will were leaving. Even if it meant her time with him was almost up. She had to go to him.

  With heavy feet and a quaking heart, she walked toward the house, step by painfully slow step. She kept her eyes cast down, hoping if she didn’t see how close the house was, it somehow wouldn’t be.

  As she stepped through the stand of cottonwoods, he was there. She sensed it before she saw him, but hi
s scent filled every part of her; warming her, yet scaring her half to death.

  “Joanna.” That voice. That face. Those hands.

  He stepped up next to her and wound his fingers through hers.

  She forced a smile she didn’t feel and lifted her face to him. “Was getting a little loud up there. Probably gave Lefty something to talk about.”

  “We need to talk.”

  Oh God. She couldn’t do this – she couldn’t have him walk out of her life now. Not now. Not when he’d given her the one thing she’d always wanted – love. Not when he’d taught her what it meant to be valued, to be treasured, and to be loved even though someone much prettier was right there.

  “No.” She tried to pull free, but he held her hand tighter.

  “There’s things you need to know, Joanna.” His voice was so impossibly gentle.

  “No.” A sob caught in her throat. Why did she cry so often around this man? “Don’t do this, Travers.”

  “Do what?” He pulled her closer, then wrapped his hands around her upper arms.

  “D-don’t leave me.” Another sob broke free. “I don’t care what M--”

  He cut her off with a kiss; a soft, delicious kiss that tasted of want, need and a heady dose of all that was Levi Travers.

  “Will you shut up for a minute?” he murmured against her lips. “Let me talk for a change.”

  Don’t let that be our last kiss. She followed him over to a grassy spot under one of the trees, the only spot bathed in moonlight. He sat back against the trunk and tugged her down sideways on his lap.

  “No matter what, keep quiet until I’m done.” He smiled gently and kissed the tip of her nose.

  “But--”

  “Joanna.” He pressed his finger against her lips. “Shut up.”

  For a moment, she considered taking that finger into her mouth. How would he react to that? Would they still have to talk then or could they forget about talking and get back to kissing?

  Before she could find out, he lowered his hand and wrapped it around her, tucking her head under his chin. His pulse beat out a strange rhythm in his neck, but holy hell, he smelled good. She snuggled closer and smiled when he let out a low moan.

  “Joanna,” he began, his voice soft in the night air. “There’s some things you need to know about me before you make any decisions about what you want.”

  “I know everything I need to know.”

  He tightened his hold around her and growled. “You’re talking again.”

  “Sorry.”

  They both knew she wasn’t.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard most of the stories about me, about where I came from and who I’ve been with.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he clamped a hand over it.

  “Quiet. Listen.” He moved his hand away and let it rest on her hip. The simple touch began a reaction inside Jo she’d never felt before. Heat coiled deep within her, her pulse quickened and she had to fight the urge to wiggle against him again.

  “I wasn’t exactly born Lord of the manor,” he went on. “Truth is, my mother was a--” He stopped, took in a few breaths.

  Jo wanted to tell him to stop – she knew all this. But for some reason, Travers needed to tell her. Besides, the longer he talked, the longer his hand moved over her hip and across her belly.

  “I’m the bastard son of a whore. Don’t have a clue who my father is. Could be any one of a thousand men.”

  Joanna watched his Adam’s apple bob, then she traced its path with the tip of her finger. Late day stubble covered his chin and neck; it felt so itchy against her fingers, she couldn’t help but scratch it for him.

  “Joanna!” He stilled her hands with his and rested them in her lap. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  Jo raised her brow in mock innocence. “You told me to shut up and let you talk.” With her hands being held down in her lap, she leaned closer to him and kissed his neck softly, once, then again. And again.

  “Joanna,” he groaned, louder this time. “Stop that.”

  “What? You don’t like it?” She kissed him again, this time on the chin, then higher until she reached his bottom lip. She flicked her tongue against his lip but eased back when he tried to take control. “Keep talking,” she murmured. “I’m listening.”

  Before she could taste his lip again, Travers lifted her unceremoniously from her position and turned her so she faced him.

  Much better angle this way. But he held her at arm’s length. Bathed in the pale moonlight, Jo could barely make out the faded bruises. Her fingers twitched to touch them, but Travers seemed intent on keeping her at a distance. Coward.

  “Don’t you have anything to say about what I just told you?” Frustration flared in his eyes – those beautiful soft brown eyes – and in the tenseness of his shoulders.

  “About what?” she asked. “About you being born a bastard? Or about your mother being a whore?”

  The color drained from his face. “Well, both.”

  She leaned closer, but not to kiss him this time, only to force him to look at her, right in the eye.

  “Did you have any say in who your mother would be?” She cocked her brow again, but didn’t let him answer. “No more than I did. Did you ask to be raised in a whore house? I’m guessing no to that one, too.”

  His head lowered, but she cupped his stubbly cheeks in her hand and lifted it again.

  “But if you’d been born to anyone else, or raised any other way, do you think we would have ever met?” She smiled, letting another course of tears trickle down her cheeks. “Do you think you’d be the man you are today if you’d been born and raised any other way?”

  He didn’t look the least bit convinced.

  “I’m not saying it’s a good thing you grew up without a father and that the only women you saw in your childhood were whores, but it made you who you are.”

  He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, according to your uncle--”

  “I don’t care about Mac.” She looked deep into his eyes, willing him to see the truth. “I only care about you. I love you, Travers, and everyone else can go to hell.”

  A wave of relief washed over his face. “Ah, Joanna.” He pulled her against his chest until their hearts beat in rhythm. “Are you sure?”

  “Do I ever do anything unless I’m sure?” She laughed, her fingers toying with the top button on his shirt.

  “There’s one other thing.”

  “Jeez, Travers,” she whined, giving him a soft slap on the chest. “Are you ever going to stop talking?”

  “I thought most women liked to talk.”

  “I’m not most women.”

  He laughed, a low choking sound that reverberated through his chest. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Okay,” she sighed dramatically. “What is it now? You can’t read or write? Ginny can teach you. You can’t cook? Neither can I.”

  “Joanna.”

  “Okay, fine.” She sat up straighter so she could see him clearly. “I’m shutting up.”

  “It’s about LeeAnna.”

  Fear gripped Jo’s heart. She’d known they’d have to face this sooner or later, but she wasn’t near ready for it.

  “If you chew that lip any harder, you won’t have anything left.” Travers wiped his thumb over her bottom lip, easing it out from beneath her top teeth.

  “Just say it, then.” Jo closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

  “Look at me, first.”

  She’d rather face down Mac right about then, but Travers didn’t say another word until she pried her eyes open, one a time.

  “I want you to see I’m telling you the truth, okay?” he asked, then waited for her to nod. “I’m not that child’s father. I never touched LeeAnna, though God knows she wanted me to.”

  Jo went back to work on her lip until Travers wiped his thumb over it again.

  “I swear to you, Joanna, it’s not mine.” He held her gaze, but it was clear to Jo that he’d rather look anywher
e else. “You know I’ve been with some of the girls in town--”

  “Some?”

  “Okay,” he relented, his eyes swimming in guilt. “More than just some. But she wasn’t one of them.”

  “Why would she say it was yours, then?” It wasn’t that Jo didn’t believe Travers, because she did, but she didn’t understand why LeeAnna would pick Travers of all people. Wasn’t like he had near the kind of money she was used to or anything.

  His cheeks flushed a little beneath the stubble. “Seems she fancied she was in love with me and when I didn’t return the feelings, I guess she got desperate.”

  “But whoever the father is, he must know it’s his child.”

  “That’s what I figure, too.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. He knew something else, but what? Then it hit her.

  “You know who the father really is, don’t you?”

  Travers’s lips pinched together before he finally nodded. “I have an idea, yeah.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head. “No point dragging him into this if I’m wrong.”

  “But--”

  “No, Joanna,” he murmured, his hands brushing the skin beneath her sleeves. “Once the child’s born, it should be clear enough, but in the meantime, I’m not going to ruin someone else by starting rumors.”

  “So what are we going to do until then?” Jo asked, finally releasing the top button, then going to work on the next one.

  “We?”

  “Yes, we, Travers.” She leaned in and kissed his neck. “Unless it was someone else yelling up at the house a while ago, I’m pretty sure it was you telling Mac that you were going to make me your wife.” She kissed him again, loving the salty masculine taste of his skin. “So that makes you and me a ‘we’.”

  He swallowed hard – again. “Does that mean. . .”

  Jo shrugged and forced back a grin. “Well, you’ve mentioned marriage twice now and even though you’ve yet to actually ask me proper-like, I guess--”

  Travers stood up so fast, she was thrown from his lap and landed on her backside in the grass. He yanked her to her feet, taking a moment to steady her.

  “What the. . .” Her throat dried up almost completely, leaving her to squeak out, “I was only kidding, Travers. For God’s sake, stand up.”

  “No.” Down on one knee, with his hat in his hand, he’d never looked more handsome. And she’d never been more terrified or excited.