by Jillian Hart
This wasn't just any mild attraction. Whatever this was, was a full-blown deep-as-the-soul need for her. This was real.
This was primal.
Wasn't that a surprise? For some reason, his feet took him a few steps toward her and he wrestled down the urge to claim her sweet, soft pink mouth with his.
Unaware of his growing need for her, in more than one way, Jada gave a cute sigh, rolled her eyes skyward and ducked her chin, giving a little bob of her head. Silken brown-honey curls swept against the soft curves of her dear face like a lover's touch, bouncing like ringlets. He nearly choked on the sudden wish to run his fingers through those errant curls to tame them and lay the palm of his hand against the sweet side of her face.
"Look, the newspaper owner is going into our shop." Her voice wobbled, trying not to let her feelings show. "This is a banner day for us already, before this. Oh, look how happy my sisters look. This is such a strange town, not civilized at all but the look of it is and then you see a chicken walking down the street and squawking at the men fighting in front of the gun shop."
"It happens. This place is more civilized than when I came here. My land has a great view of the snow-capped mountains and that endless blue sky. Makes me glad I sank my hard-earned money into ranching."
"You look like the life suits you. And it looks good on you. But I'm guessing you regret trading in your badge for a bunch of horses."
"Nope, not even for one day. Although, there are days I miss righting wrongs, but there are ways to do that whatever your job is in life, whatever your calling."
"True."
A voice called from the boardwalk behind them. "Frisco, good to see you."
Jada looked over to see Tristan Haywood knuckle back his hat brim against the glaring sun as he stepped off the boardwalk, pacing closer. Water splashed and snow slushed beneath his boots. "Having any pony trouble lately?"
"Constantly, but the boys will figure the pony out. It's bound to get better. My best advice is never to buy a pony, then again, always do it if he needs a home."
"That's the truth. I had one at that age and was that a good childhood. Good day to you, Miss Shepherd. Thanks to you and your sisters, I got home with some of the best soup I've had in a while. Thank them for me, would you? Your shop seems very busy."
"I will, Mr. Haywood." She nodded politely. "Yes, our shop is not used to so much attention."
"Or customers," Frisco cut in. "It didn't turn out so bad, as you can see."
"And I'm very grateful for it, but I should leave you two men to you talk." Jada glanced down at the toes of her polished black shoes peeking out from beneath her ruffled skirt hem. "I have a special order pie to make for a birthday tomorrow, if you gentleman will excuse me."
"There will be no excusing you for anything. Where do you think you're going without me?" He tipped his hat to Tristan. "She can wait a minute, can't she? Are we on for our game of cards tonight?"
"Absolutely." Tristan kept on heading over to his horse, tied up at the hitching rail behind them. "Count me in for a wild time."
"Then my place at six. Supper's on me."
"See you then."
Jada arched a slender eyebrow at him, swishing softly forward just a step, like the hesitation of a dancer right before the first notes of a waltz begins. "You've got a wild night planned, huh?"
"Hey, don't look at me like that. It's not as bad as you think."
That eyebrow quirked up higher. "A card game?"
"At my home, you heard me, and sometimes we play games like Old Maid." He rather liked the way she held her spine straight as she continued down the sloshy street, very much approving of him. That only made him grin wider as he kept up with her. "You have to remember that my sons are there. A few friends of mine come over and we have a some harmless hours of poker between us. Penny ante. Lots of good talk and fun."
"I don't approve of card playing." The corners of her mouth tugged ever higher upward.
"I see that sparkle in your eye. A proper lady like you and a business woman of this fine wild western town has to say that. Or what would people think?"
"True."
He couldn’t stop the kick of heat as he caught her elbow to assist her up the step onto the boardwalk. Strong desire whipped through him, stirring up his blood. A full-on passionate reaction wasn't something he wanted to get caught revealing, so he schooled his face hoping he didn't smile too much and kept his gaze from straying to the soft blush of her lips he needed to kiss. He'd be smart to stay strong. "It's just time spent having some harmless fun with good friends. And my parents are there, too."
"They sound nice." She blushed a bit, her cheeks apple-red when he let go of her and let her swish a few steps away from him. "I have yet to meet either one of them around town. I suppose one day I'll bump into your ma on the boardwalk when she's shopping or in a store. You must be close to them judging by the warmth in your voice."
"They're pretty great, and I'm lucky to have 'em. Although they spoil the boys something awful. That's what's wrong with them. It's all their fault and never mine. Not a bit, not one drop."
"Like I believe that one. You have a close relationship with the boys, too. I noticed."
"I'm lucky. I got two good kids. I'm trying not to mess them up too much."
"It's too late for that." Jada led the way down the boardwalk, far too aware of his nearness. She felt tingly and warm all over. She liked the way his chuckle rumbled over her pleasantly. Too pleasantly. Was she growing warmer yet again? She had to stop that! "As far as I've noticed, your twins are a disaster."
"Yep, disaster about sums it up. But they grow up pretty quickly, so I'm more lenient than I should be. I can't slow down time."
"I know that feeling." She nodded, words failed her and she avoided meeting his gaze because she'd never felt this harmony of heart before. Maybe because his words disarmed her. She didn't feel in control of her heart, and that wasn't usual, and she felt vulnerable and defenseless. "I'm not lucky enough to have children but I surely love my family. I can't spend enough time with my sisters. It goes by too fast."
"It's precious, this life of ours, and the time we've got to live it shouldn't be wasted." Frisco cleared his throat, his tone different, more caring and more, well, true, somehow. "That was deep of me. I apologize for that. You disarm me and it's easy to tell you anything. I feel that comfortable with you. Your unmarried status won't last long in this town now that word has gotten out about you."
"That's unlikely, and far too kind of a compliment, but thank you. Trust me, I'm a spinster for a reason. All a man has to do is look at me to know why." Blushing, unwilling to say she'd been called on the homely side by her former husband, who'd changed his mind about her when he realized her pa wasn't as wealthy as he put on airs to be and would never be able to recover or rebuild his comfortable fortune.
She directed her gaze downward, staring hard again at the boardwalk planks disappearing beneath her shoes. Embarrassed the truth had popped out of her, she desperately hoped Frisco hadn't noticed.
"Here, let me get the door for you, beautiful lady." He moved in, understanding lining his face. His hand brushed her shoulder.
Too brief, that touch, too quick to end and yet how it made her heart still.
"You don't look like anything to me but fine and lovely."
"You're very kind to compliment me so much, but you don't have to try so hard." She waved away his concern, not wanting to open up to him. "I'm a realist. I've been looking at my face in the mirror for a long, long time. I'm under no illusions about the way I look."
"I beg to disagree," he corrected her and caught her by the elbow once again. "Careful stepping down into the street to cross it."
The heat of his touch scorched through the layers of wool she wore and burned her skin. Her heart gave an unwilling thump back to life, beating unevenly and her knees and ankles felt a bit jelly-like as she made the step down into the slushy mess of white snow and sparkling snow-melt. He helped he
r through the uneven clumps of melting snow, the gentleman that he was.
"There, this is better, we're in the sun where it's melting." His voice warmed, rumbling as welcome as the bright rays attempting to sneak beneath the hem of her cloak's hood. "Are you heading over to the mercantile?"
"I've got a special-order pie to get started on this afternoon. It should be ready around closing time today or any time tomorrow." She couldn't breathe because he was touching her. The pressure and warmth of his hand, the strength in it, startled her system just enough that she couldn't think straight or feel one bit of the cold air breezing over her overly warm face. Whew, the effect the man had on her! However would she resist? "So, come by any time."
"How much are you going to charge me? We never talked numbers. I don't even know what this pie is gonna cost me."
"Well, I could charge you an exorbitant fee at this point. You failed to negotiate a price when you hired me."
"True, too true. I'll be happy to pay you what you're worth." He held out his hand, guiding her around an extremely big chunk of broken up snow drift at the side of the street. She skirted to the right, right along with him. It was a cozy feeling. "Look, Tristan's heading to the bakery. He's a happy, returning customer."
"Those are my favorite kinds of customers. Plus he's returning the crock I lent him. Now, he's my favorite customer. That was a good crock."
"You're funny, Jada, you have a great sense of humor." Laughter looked good on him. Very good. He splashed his way around a deep puddle so that she didn't have to veer off course. "This is how I met my former wife."
"Buying baked goods from her store?" Okay, so she was interested in him. She wanted to know more.
He chuckled softly, as if it were a good memory. "No, I accompanied her across the street. A bully was harassing her on her way home from school, it was her final year, and I was working as a deputy fresh out of public school, just eighteen and she was seventeen. I'd noticed her, but she was new to town about the time graduation rolled around for me. So, I seized the opportunity to help her out and make sure she wasn't alone to be troubled by that man. Eventually, he was arrested for robbery, so she didn't need any more protection crossing the street but I'd made her like me by then, so it was good."
He shook his head at himself, back and forth nice and slow, the dark shock of hair tumbling across his forehead from beneath his wide-rimmed hat, like he couldn’t believe himself. What did she say to that? "It must be hard to talk about who you've lost."
"Lost, huh? Well, that's one way of putting it. It broke me for a long while, but life is like that and I'm not alone in hardship. Besides, I've got my boys to get me through it and past it. We're doing good, and look how it helps my mother. It gives her something to do. It keeps her life from being bored and my father's, too."
"That's your mother up there at the far end of the boardwalk, isn't it? That's why you're nodding to her and grinning wider."
"Guilty as charged." He pulled open the mercantile's door for her, his hand now gone from her arms and yet she felt too stunned to respond, to keep her brain cells functioning correctly and to stop her shoes from taking her across the threshold and into the store, where she turned to give him one last speechless look. Frisco towered there, framed by the doorway, a dimpled grin changing the stony features of his face, softening him, making her heart warm. When he stepped back to walk away from her and close the door for her, she was able to draw in a small gasp of air. She'd been holding her breath and hadn't known it.
Why couldn't she look away from him, from the wide-shouldered shadow he made as he moseyed into the gleam and glint of the bright shining sun? Maybe because he was everything she used to dream about in a man.
* * *
With every step he took down the boardwalk, Frisco felt the brush of her gaze, feather-light and yet scintillating, so he resisted with all his might the urge to turn around or to risk a glance over one shoulder. He knew she stood in the glass window in the door watching him, he didn't doubt it, and his head turned before he could stop it to see her standing there. Yep, he was right.
She looked small and lean, just a wisp of a thing, a little piece of calico, was what his brother always called the ladies, but then again, he'd been the one with the wandering foot, the eye for gold and the hunger to try to find it, which is what brought them to Alder Creek, not far from Alder Gulch with its Virginia City fame.
He came to a stop in the middle of the boardwalk, unable to stop his gaze from latching onto hers. The world around him faded to nothing as a smile gathered like a new light in her eyes, bright and revealing. His chest tightened. How had he gotten here so fast? He was falling hard and he'd made that mistake before. Whoa, man, slow down, take it easy, this makes you too big of a besotted fool, following feelings instead of cold, cool logic.
A man took his time when he was courting, that was all. It would be easy to just keep falling, tumbling head over boot heels and over again for her. Last time, he'd been taken for a ride, for a fool and made a mockery of. He'd vowed never again to allow that, but he had to be dumb to allow his heart to lean toward her even a little. A man had to protect himself and his heart, even in this romance business.
Across the distance between them, she gave a sweet little shoulder shrug, her face wincing gorgeously with uncertainty, a little cute awkward half-grin and then she rolled her eyes, as if she had no clue what to do next. Oh, what a sweetheart. She filled him right up, just filled up his heart.
She stayed there, her gazed pinned with his, her eyes unguarded, open now when she had always kept her walls up, soft where she'd always been distant. Now he could see the true color of her soul.
He liked Jada...much more than was wise. Tenderness lit him up inside and, changed, he wanted her. And he really didn't think it was wise to keep thinking along these lines. But she made his heart yearn and his blood heat, no doubt about that. Hotter than he ever expected.
He watched, amused, as a shopper in the background walked up to where Jada stood, staring back at him, and unaware of the woman behind her, jumped a foot straight up in the air, eyes going wide, mouth opening into a surprised O, and then, realizing she stood in the way, turned bright red, blushing hard, and slipped a step sideways to let the woman by. She gave a shrug as her gaze met his again, as if she just hadn't done a thing to embarrass herself.
But Frisco wasn't fooled, she was mortified inside. She broke away, lowering her eyes and, with a small wave of her slender right hand, she slipped away deeper into the store, out of his sight but not out of his heart. No, that's where he still felt the brush of her fading.
He'd let her too close, and he figured that she might feel the same. Since she was gone from his sight, he turned back around, took a step and realized his mother had opted not to go into the sewing shop and had come to check on why he was standing in the way like a foolish man.
He shook his head. Maybe it was best to be sensible and never follow his heart again. Look how it was already going! Badly, right? He shook his head, amused, not sure what to say as his ma shook her head at his, arching one brow like he was still a kid in trouble.
"What are you up to, young man of mine?" she asked.
Maybe it was better to get moving away from the mercantile before his mother figured it out. So he answered her, but thought of Jada shopping for pecans in the mercantile. The talk about his former marriage had gone better than expected. But maybe she'd already written him off as unacceptable.
Maybe that was best for them both and safest for his heart.
12
Boy, but it's good to be this busy! Stella slipped the last of the dozen cookies into the bakery box, closed the lid and tied a string around it to keep it from coming open for the kind gentleman who'd risked giving their bakery a try, one of about a dozen who filled up the quiet shop with life and noise and their deep, rumbling voices.
"There you go, thank you for stopping by." She smiled at the man who took the bakery box with a polite head bob. "Hav
e a good day, sir."
"I will now."
It was a good feeling to watch him walk away, a satisfied customer. And she sure hoped he loved their cookies, every one. She turned to the next customer in line and flashed her most polite, customer-service oriented smile. "Hello, what can I do for you?"
"It's good to see you again, Stella." His deep, male voice rumbled with amusement. "I've never seen your shop this busy."
"Tristan Haywood, so true. What are you doing in here?" She stared at the big man towering over her on the other side of the display case. Honestly, her heart wasn't lurching at the sight of his perfect, even smile, or was it? Stella gave the man an appreciative look, although she tried to hide it. He looked even better in his workwear, with a jacket and tie, a white shirt showing off his handsome complexion. Black trousers showcased trim hips and long, just right legs. Not that she was noticing. It was best to be all business. "I don't remember inviting you back in."
"I'm like riffraff, you can't keep me away."
"Apparently not, and it's too late now, so I might as well ask what can I get you?"
"First things first. I have something of yours. Look." He set the crock from the evening that felt so long ago now when she and her sisters had given him food on that blizzarding night. "As promised, here, I'm returning this to you, and washed too."
And likely he thought she would be impressed by his thoughtfulness and by his charm.
Well, he would be correct. He was handsome and amiable, but she didn't intend to let him know that. She knew enough about privileged men to know that they didn't take a woman like her seriously. How could they, when they were so fine and from such a fancy background? She'd learned not to hitch her heart to a star like that. No, she kept her sites on the ground, right where her feet were firmly planted.
Rumor had it that the uppity and rich Pratt family weren't at all concerned with being nice. And it was clear they were nothing like ordinary people. Stella smiled to herself, because he was so easy to want to like and his family was so odious, but perhaps, that was how it was in successful circles. She wasn't pointing fingers. She had a father who'd lost the heart to hold a job, so every family had some kind of trouble, right? She grabbed the crock and slipped it onto the counter out of the way. "That's good of you. As I remember, I doubted I'd ever see that again."
