The Cowboy Takes A Bride

by Jillian Hart

  "You know that I will." He gave a nod as a promise and gave the door handle a tug. Beneath the jingling bell he stepped out into the sunshine of the morning that melted the snow, and the dripping water sang like music.

  "That hit the spot." Frisco found himself saying, drawing her attention back to him. "Good coffee, and judging by the smile on your face I'm back in your good opinion. That's good to know."

  "Oh, I wouldn't say good opinion." She nodded toward the newspaper, which had fallen almost completely open on her counter to reveal the entire bottom half of the front page. "I can read quite plainly that you're not seeking any attention for the work you do for this town."

  "No, I told you, I'm someone who is retired from law enforcement, I just am happy to help out when I can. I earned enough bounties, and that's hard work, that I figure I deserve my horse ranch they paid for."

  "Do you have more than one horse?" Her blue eyes twinkled with teasing lights.

  "I've got Chester, that's a start," he joked, exchanging the coffee cup for the newspaper and taking a step back and not quite wanting to lift his eyes from hers. "And see, you've got a returning customer out of the newspaper article. That proves me right."

  "You, right? That must be a rare event."

  "More than you'll ever known. I'll enjoy it while I can."

  "I was teasing, you know."

  "Oh, so the truth is out. You do like me."

  "I wouldn't go that far." But her full smile beamed gentle kindness his way. Lamplight haloed her like a lover's touch, making her irresistible and making him wonder how would she look as he was unbuttoning her in his bedroom with the kiss of lamplight on her skin and then his lips. She tilted her head, and her lustrous bangs tumbled over her eyes, so dear. "Have a good day, Frisco. Thanks for coming."

  "It is a good day now that I've seen you. I'll be back tomorrow for a pecan pie for a birthday cake?"

  When she nodded, he ambled away, desire filling him up so hard he couldn’t breathe. He opened the door, glancing over his shoulder to treat himself to one last look at her before he had to walk away.

  She stood in front of the sparkling display case, awash with golden light, brushed with luminescence, smiling softly to herself as if with a secret. She glanced up, so relaxed, when her youngest sister opened the swinging kitchen door to say something to her. Jada gave a soft laugh and in that unguarded moment, his senses stilled.

  He'd never seen such beauty or wanted a woman so much in his life, with his whole soul. His entire body burned for her as he closed the door and strode away.

  * * *

  "You're still watching the man, aren't you?" Stella pushed through the kitchen's swinging door a handful of hours later, with one shoulder, careful to hold the small tray full of freshly iced sugar cookies level as she sashayed closer. "Don't think I can't tell what you're up to. I would pay him special attention, too. Frisco is definitely a good sort of man."

  "And he's interested in you," Mindy added, bringing up the rear with a tray of raspberry tarts. "He was awfully courteous about the article. He didn't think we would be a laughingstock at all."

  "He was very nice about it," Stella agreed, slipping the pan on a shelf of the display case. "He was very upbeat, but to tell the truth, it can't compare to the other article where he and his fellow deputies with the sheriff stopped dangerous outlaws from robbing the bank."

  "He is a hero, huh?" Jada's gaze strayed to the window where she could still see him on the other side of the boardwalk, standing in the street, where snow melted and sunshine reigned, talking with someone she didn't recognize.

  "He's definitely hero quality," Stella commented, dusting her fingertips off on her yellow gingham apron. "And let me say it again, he likes you."

  "I'm pretending I didn't hear you," she confessed. "Frisco Hayden is not the man for me. Trust me on this."

  "I don't trust you at all," Stella teased, making them all laugh. Jada rolled her eyes. "How did you know about the bank robbery article? Did the paper come?"

  "I ran out the back door and grabbed a copy." Mindy seemed proud of herself as she moved the half dozen iced scones into place on the display. "I wanted to read the article for myself."

  Whatever Stella said in response faded away as Jada drew in a slow, steadying breath. Why couldn't she stop her gaze from straying to the man? He held her like glue and it took all her strength to yank her eyes away, seize control of them and purposefully attempt to think of what it was that she was going to do next.

  What was it? she wondered. She was supposed to do something, it had been right there on the edge of her mind, but zip went her attention right back to the window and fixed on the man standing in the sunshine, dressed in charcoal gray today, his hat at a jaunty angle, charm emanating from him with enough force to make her heart skip five beats.

  I don't feel warm all over because of his magnetism, she told herself. She did not feel that way for Frisco Hayden, no way, no how. Although she liked that he'd stumbled across them this morning, had softened the indignity of the newspaper article with his kind manly presence and humor and that he'd asked her to bake a pie for his mother. While she didn't count on a chance at romance again, (and that was a story she intended to stick to), she felt warm at heart at the notion of baking for him. She was glad he'd asked, and her pulse jumped thick and hot when he turned toward her. His gaze met hers through the morning sun-touched glass.

  "Remember how the fabric shop across the way got this wonderful article on their spring decorations back in March?" Stella was saying as she hesitated in the kitchen doorway. "My, how nice it was. Remember how much we thought so?"

  "Yes," Mindy answered. "And their sales went way up. There were plenty of customers coming to their shop. There still is."

  Jada nodded vaguely, a little too mesmerized by handsome Frisco to fully concentrate. She blinked, and her focus shifted and she caught a glimpse of her reflection staring back at her. She squinted at the glass. Yikes! Did she really look that way? She was a fright. The hot oven she'd been working over hours before had steamed her pretty good. Instead of a tidy bun and uniform straight bangs, she had a tumble of errant locks sliding down from the bun, curling around her face and into her eyes. Was that a blob of cinnamon roll icing on her sleeve? No wonder the man walked away unimpressed. She was too!

  "Oh, why or why couldn't that have happened to us?" Mindy gave an exaggerated sigh, humorously so. "It's just our luck that pony came along. Look, someone is holding the newspaper and laughing. They are standing on the boardwalk across the street and laughing, staring right at our window."

  "Who can blame them?" Stella chuckled. "It is funny. You should have seen the look on Jada's face."

  "What do you mean?" Jada blinked, dragging her attention away from handsome Frisco standing awash in sunshine, surrounded by a thousand diamond sparkles on the sun-lit snow. "I hope I handled the incident pretty good. A lot of people would have been very outraged at that pony."

  "And the boys," Stella reminded her.

  "Oh, those boys." She would not betray a single vulnerable feeling, not one. "They are trouble. We should ban them from ever bringing a pony in here again."

  "That's tough talk, you should have told them, Jada." Mindy's eyes laughed at her, full of love and happiness. "You like them, admit it."

  "I admit nothing."

  "And their father."

  "Wrong!" She wished her gaze didn't return to the window where a movement caught her attention. Frisco tipped back his head, hand on his hat to laugh along with whoever he was speaking to.

  The bell jingled above the door, startling the quiet and ripping her out of her adoration of him. The fresh, cool air breezing in smelled like sunshine and snowmelt, bringing with it a rotund well-dressed man who looked well bundled in wool, including his fashionable wool cap, against the weather.

  "I hear you ladies serve all types here. I'm hoping, including the type who is starved for good rye bread. Oh, the mercantile doesn't know what they're do
ing and I'm usually out at my claim and shop on First Street, it's closest," the man said, closing the door behind him and ambling in with his thick winter boots thunking on the floor and his grin rather personable. "I didn't know there was another bakery in town, and am I glad to see two types of rye bread for sale on your shelves."

  "Why, yes," Jada said politely. "I'm so glad you found us. Would you like a small sample of each kind so you can decide if you're interested?"

  "Why, that is a fine policy. You don't get that at the mercantile." He came to a stop in front of the display case, hands on his hips and an approving look in his eyes. "It smells promising in here, not at all like the mercantile. That pickle barrel sitting right next to the bread always makes me think of this bad diner just across the street from here. It's why I avoid Third Street like I do."

  "The rent was cheap," Jada explained, liking this customer and his good humor.

  "Here are your samples, sir," Stella said warmly, already serving on a small saucer two small cuts of a slice, one of dark rye and the other light rye. "We hope you like both."

  Jada stepped back, since her younger sister had it under control. The customers always loved Stella. Who wouldn't? She shouldered open the swinging door with a squeak of hinges and swept into the kitchen. Oh, it smelled good. She breathed in the fresh scent of gingerbread loaves cooling on the racks and the fresh cinnamon rolls, the final batch for the day, steaming still in their pans.

  Mindy looked up from flipping the first batch of cinnamon rolls from its pan onto the clean cloth-covered oven mitt and the flipping it smoothly with expertise onto the wire racks to cool. "Do you see this? Did they turn out perfect or what?"

  "Perfect."

  "Aren't you excited about the new customer?" Mindy set the baking pan in the sink. "I think that article might really have helped us out a teeny tiny bit. Now if only we can keep the customers we have and they aren't scared off or worried about animals in our shop, we'll stay in business."

  "It's a precarious thing, but I've got a second job that will always be a small help, so that's a handy thing to have no matter our financial shortcomings."

  "And we appreciate it and help you out when we can. I was thinking it might be a good time for you to slip out. I noticed you're grabbing your cloak." She reached for the second baking pan steaming away with delicious sugary, cinnamon-y rolls. "We're going to need pecans."

  "Don't even start that again, please." Jada rolled her eyes ceiling-ward and slipped into the sleeves of her warm wool cloak. "In the months we've been in business, you've attempted to match me up with the milkman, the teamster with the squeaking wagon wheel..."

  "He seemed super nice but you can hear him coming before you see the whites of his horse's eyes."

  "A safety bonus if you're about to cross the street and forget to look. Just listen." She reached for her reticule and shook her head at herself. "What is wrong with me? My sense of humor is off in a major way. I'm seriously not pleased with that."

  "It happens. Some days your mind is just somewhere else. I can't imagine where. I did not at all see you staring and gazing and watching and noticing a certain handsome cowboy."

  "Rancher, he's a rancher."

  "There's just this untamed air to him, law-abiding and infinitely decent, but just hard to pin down, so maybe he's not really untamed at all." Mindy shrugged. "He's got an air of unique in him and he is far too dashing and good looking for his own good. And he knows it."

  "That is true. I will admit to nothing else, and I've hardly noticed him."

  "I sure would like to find a man who looked at me the way your cowboy looks at you." Mindy waggled her eyebrows. "Not that I think any man would measure up to my high standards. After growing up with Pa and after what happened to you, it makes a girl say to herself, only a really good man. Otherwise, who needs the headache? I'm like, unhook that man and throw him back in the pond. Let some other woman suffer from his laziness or his bad bad decisions that nobody with a single brain cell would make, or never be able to hold a regular job."

  "You're singing to the choir, sister." Jada opened the back door and shivered, rooting for the sun that was attempting to warm the air but failing. The cold snow was bitter and refusing to melt fast enough to suit her. She longed for summer-y weather's return. "Is that the bell over the door?"

  "Huh, I can't imagine we have another customer. I'd better go check. Stella might need some help. And go, go to the store. Get some extra sugar, too. We can never get enough of that. Oh, and bring me a peppermint stick."

  "I'll bring you both two." Jada swept out the door, tugged it shut after her and splashed down the walkway to the street. When she glanced over her shoulder, she blinked, attempting to bring the scene into focus, too surprised to trust her eyes. But no, she was really seeing it. A small herd of men crossing the street from the diner kitty-corner to the shop were walking amiably, chatting away. Why, they were the office workers and owners of the nearby lumber mill.

  "Hey! So we meet again."

  11

  Frisco Hayden stepped into sight, separating from the small crowd of men he walked along with, leaving them to walk across the street while he veered right and out of the building's shadow and into the sunlight falling all around him. Happiness surged through him. He liked seeing Jada again, especially when he'd been so determined to keep an eye out for her. It didn't hurt to look, and so he raised his hand to tip his hat with polite respect to her.

  Jada. She twinkled up at him with a look that could make a fierce outlaw balk and a horseman like him read what she didn't want to show. That soft, soft heart. Yeah, he was a goner, and he didn't know what he was gonna do about that.

  She squinted up at him. "Cowboy, you're hanging around town? Don't you have some cows to tend to or something?"

  "Horses. I'm a horseman. I spent the morning at the auction, so I've been busy." He nodded toward the shop. Oh, he'd helped her out, he'd done something nice for her and her sisters, and she might never know it. But it was a good feeling. "Looks like that article is paying off."

  "I don't see how such a disaster could have." She spun around to watch the small band of men step up onto the boardwalk, and the one in the lead tugged open the shop's front door. They filed inside, visible through the large picture display window, ambling over as they talked in a friendly manner and lined up in front of the counter.

  "I really can't believe my eyes. Real customers. And more than one at a time."

  "It was only a matter of getting people to think about trying your baking. You ladies have a good skill at a good price. What I've sampled is downright tasty."

  "Well, for a town like this, I suppose we might look on the fancier side." She gestured toward the long view of Third Street. They could hear the faint tinny piano melody from the saloons down the block. The sound of men's voices, rising in anger, rose as they fisted hands standing in front of the swinging batwing doors. Jada wasn't surprised when one man punched the other in the jaw.

  She looked away as a wild moose wandered the street and stopped to drink from a puddle of ice melt on the snowy, slushy ground in the shade of the buildings. A brown hawk wheeled overhead, her shadow growing larger as she landed on the empty hitching post. The shop door snapped shut, cutting off the sound of the bell overhead and the men's conversations.

  Through the window, she could see Stella smiling up a storm, politely handing out a handful of cookies wrapped in a waxed paper sheet. Mindy, in the midst of handing back one man's change, tossed a grin from the other side of the window and nodded encouragingly.

  Apparently, business was better than they'd ever expected and she was not needed there at all. No desperate look of come help! No finger-wiggle of need. No way, her sisters had this all under control and so lovely and sweetly kind that her heart gave a loving squeeze. Her sisters would always be the loves of her life, after all. "You wouldn't have had anything to do with this, would you?"

  "Nope, not at all." But his eyes twinkled with mischief.
>
  "Just what I thought." Unable to help it, she leaned in a little closer to him. "You had something to do with the article, didn't you?"

  "I'll never tell, but it's a fine thing to have a little humor on the front page of the news, instead of all these troubles. Bank robberies. Gun fights. The land wars going on over the open range. Violent attacks on businessmen and prospectors while asleep in their own homes."

  "I try not to think about it before I go to sleep at night." Jada shivered, her gaze pinching with concern for others, not for herself. "There is something in the wind that really does reinforce to me that this is the wild frontier. I can be at work in the kitchen and forget where I am, everything can feel so domestic and safe, so settled and normal like back home in Indiana. I go to check on my sisters who are sewing in the front room and I see a robbery in progress. It's good that you help out the sheriff's office. I like it."

  "So, that's why you like me."

  "Not even close." She tipped her head to the side, her grin softly widening trying to make things bright. He could see that, but also the sorrow in her eyes, a sadness that he could feel in his soul. He wondered about her, really wondered, and his heart squeezed with a combination of caring and desire that left him hot beneath his clothes and wishing the winter-like breeze was icier and more frigid so he didn't have to worry about going rigid in front of her.

  "This is real nice of you, Frisco. We have never been so popular. Look at all the customers." She turned toward the front windows where two men were opening the door, cookies in hand, eating away and looking pleased. That was a good feeling. "You're helping my sisters and that means the world to me."

  "So I see. I meant to help you."

  "Me? I don't matter as much as they do. I work so hard to make their lives better, and I forget about me."

  "Now, why doesn't that surprise me?" He couldn't stop gazing at her and drinking her in. Boy, how she made his blood heat. His chest tightened with too much feeling.