by Jillian Hart
"Me?"
"Yes, you." She'd concentrate on the positive, on hoping there might be some good-hearted man who'd fall for Mindy and make her a happy wife. Wouldn't love be the best next chapter for her sisters' lives?
Her chin went up, and she squared her shoulders. She would not be sad for herself. She refused to be. Loneliness might find her here in this house all by herself, but at least Pa would be needing some looking after. That would give her purpose in life, right? He liked her cooking. The thought made her smile a little.
"I'm not sure anyone would come along to marry me." Mindy rolled her eyes upward, lifting a bag of breakables from the floor of the wagon. "I'm very picky."
Jada chuckled, stepping to the side to let the men moving their kitchen boxes through. "It's wise to be discriminating. You want to get the right one to match your heart."
"Definitely my exact plan. So far it has not come to fruition. But I remain if not hopeful, then not entirely doubtful," Mindy joked, winking as she led the way up the steps and across the porch.
The men setting down boxes in the parlor overheard and chuckled. Stella swept their way to take the bag from Mindy. "We could always put an advertisement in the weekly newspaper and pay some man to take you off our hands."
"Yeah," Jada teased gently, "kind of like the pony Frisco's sons bought for the gain of two pennies."
"Do you think I could go for as much as Maynard?" Mindy joked. "I'm not that quality."
"Then we'll have to double the offer. Four pennies," Stella quipped.
31
While her sisters talked, Jada slipped the box on the floor near a stack of others and noticed a buckboard pulling up behind the wagon. It almost looked like Frisco's vehicle, and her heart stuttered to a stop.
No, those were not his horses, she realized, feeling her heartbeat kick back to life. Perhaps it was best not to think of him. It hurt too much. And always would. She didn't know how to talk about the mistake she'd made, letting herself care for the wrong man. He wanted who he thought she was. She didn't want to see the light in his eyes dim for her, the regard and respect he'd shown her die, or the love in his heart fade to nothing at all.
The passion they'd shared in his bed that night was something never to be repeated and never to be shared again. She knew he cared. It had been in every touch, every caress, every time he'd joined their bodies together.
But his love wasn't strong enough for her to withstand the truth of her past. Devastated, she wrapped her arms around herself to keep the pain hidden deep inside. Voices sailed through the open window and she squinted through the screen.
Their neighbor across the alley, Bernard, had arrived with bundles and boxes. How kind of him. She heard his warm baritone drift in on the wind. "My grandmother had some extra things around our apartment, so I thought a few housewarming gifts would be in order. Tristan, do you know if Mindy is inside?"
"I'm sure she is," he said warmly as if, man to man, he understood the vulnerability behind that request.
It looked like she might be the lone spinster in the family after all, which had been her guess. And that was fine by her. Jada touched her youngest sister's shoulder.
"Why don't you go see what gifts Bernard has brought us?" she suggested. "I have a very good feeling about him. Isn't he handsome?"
"I've always thought so," Mindy admitted, her skirts swirling around her slim ankles as she sailed out the door.
* * *
"Well, son, I don't know what to say. I'd love for you to stay for supper tonight." His ma looked up from shoveling cookies off the baking sheet with the spatula and expertly slipping them onto the cooling rack. She didn't look up from her work at the counter. "The twins are welcome to stay, too. I have a chicken to put in the oven and I'm mashing potatoes to go with them. You know how you love my gravy."
"I do, and you're tempting me with food again." Frisco reached over to grab a half-cooled cookie from her first batch on the already full cooling rack.
"It's outright bribery, that's what it is. And to get my own son to spend time eating with his parents. I swear, I have it rough." She went him a mischievous wink. "Your father suffers when you're not here."
"I suffer when I'm not with you two as well," he said good-humoredly around a mouthful of crumbly-soft, still warm cookie. "Hmm, just like when I was a kid."
"The boys are too busy reading a horseman magazine on ponies to come pester me in the kitchen," Ma winked, busily scooping the last of the cookies from the sheet. "Which means I'm glad to have you."
"I'm glad to be here. Good cookie, Ma."
"Don't you forget that as accomplished as I am, someone else is also a good baker, and I hear you took her out to supper again without telling me. I had to hear it from the twins and Bartholomew over at the hotel when I was standing behind him in the mercantile and from our neighbor Mildred."
"How did Mildred know?"
"She likes to gossip. I can say that I do, too."
"Then gossip this. That's a problem, because Jada Shepherd is a tough nut to crack, so to speak."
"Well she should be! You wait until you have a wedding ring on your hand, mister, or I'll swat you, or at least I'll have your father do it. Don't tempt me, son." His mother gave him a squinty eye full of warning and also mirth. "Rumor has it that she's a fine woman, so I'll start really liking her."
"Good. Make sure that you do." Here's hoping his ma knew nothing about the evening Jada had spent in his bed groaning in pleasure beneath him as he thrust into her over and over again.
Whew, he could not stop thinking about her or the fact that he had intentions to try that same plan again. Grab supper at the hotel and take her and the food home with him to enjoy. If he could go back to and renew his plan to court her one evening at a time until she changed her mind about him, assuming she would, then he might be able to reassure her and fix whatever she might have heard about him and his past marriage.
At least, it was the only plan he had. He'd gone too many days without stopping by to see her, honoring her request to end things, to not see her again and to let it be a final goodbye. But she had to know he cared too much for that to be the end of it. At least, he had to try and explain, because he had a bad feeling that his past had come between them.
Maybe her heart was big enough to understand what happened and to agree to let him court her anyway. Every night since had been too lonely, too sad, spent alone in his bed. He craved her with his entire being. What he would give to have her in his arms, in his bed, once again.
He thanked his ma, found the twins with their grandpop and told them to mind their manners, sweet boys. He winked at his pa and headed out in the buckboard the few blocks to town. Heart pounding, libido vibrating, hopes determined. At least he had a place to start a conversation with Jada. If his past was the issue, then he had a chance to fix it. Otherwise, he had to accept he'd lost her for good.
He saw the 'closed' sign in the window and his heart sank a little. He drew the horses to a stop, hopped down and walked up to the boardwalk with shaky knees. That's okay, he thought, she's probably upstairs. He raised his fist to knock and noticed the new sign tucked against the glass on the front door.
Dear customers, he read, we are closed permanently for business. Thank you for your patronage and we hope to see your friendly faces around town. Thanks for everything. Sincerely, the Shepherd sisters.
Closed? His heart kicked, stunned. He lowered the arm he'd been about to knock with and rocked back a few steps. He could see plainly through the window. Not a stick of furniture was visible. Not one cookie or muffin. Nor a loaf of bread or a dinner roll. Nothing but an empty display case. What was going on? Where had she gone?
"Oh, were you hoping to buy a dessert?" The tailor next door poked his head out, "or were you here to see Jada? Don't think I haven't got eyes, you know. I see what's going on."
"You do?" His heart rocked back, missing a beat, thinking of Jada naked and willing in his bed, how loving she'd been, how
passionate. No one had better know about that! His mind leaped to that worry, because the last thing he wanted to do was to ever hurt her in any way, and if word got around about that, then her reputation would be in tatters. Ruined beyond saving. It was hard to hear what Joel was saying over the roaring in his ears.
"You're sweet on the woman, don't tell me you're not. Then hurry up, young man, strike while the iron is hot. Or you'll have competition and be too late." The tailor gave his spectacles a push up his nose. "Snatch her up quick. She seems awful nice. What a good catch."
"If only it were that easy." He squared his shoulders, wishing this didn't hurt so much. "She's still in town, then?"
Joel opened his mouth to answer, but a gunshot echoing down the street interrupted him. Gunfire returned, men's angry shouts beat like bullets down the street. An ear-splitting trumpet of a neigh rang out, and he was moving before he could think, racing down the boardwalk and across the street, heart staccato-beating with adrenaline as the panicked sound of a terrified horse rang out again. There was a crack of wood, men shouting to grab a rope, and he saw it too late. A woman crossing the street.
She doesn't have enough time, he thought, just as the mustangs escaped from their tether in front of the diner, where four men were negotiating a pre-auction sale. That filtered into the background of his mind, the woman flashed to the front. Running that hard turned the street into a blur but he recognized the slender line of her back, the dainty cut of her shoulders and the delicate beauty of her, of Jada. His Jada.
No! He saw it in an instant. The stallion rearing, the hooves pawing the air as he charged in blind panic and crushing fear. Terror shook him as he watched her look up too late, realize the danger too late, and pushed harder, digging in, already torn apart at her loss if he didn't get there in time. Losing her like that would cut like a blade, carve out his heart. Agony pierced him to the soul, fearing he was too late as his arms closed around her.
He breathed in her floral scent and swung her up onto the boardwalk, safe and sound. He let go of her, winded, ready to fall over on his trembling legs. For a tough and strong man, he sure had weak knees, proof of how close he'd come to losing her forever, so final he'd never be able to get her back, never be able to love her the way he wanted to, with his whole heart.
"Frisco." She blinked in surprise, gazing up at him, her face furrowed with fear and her pretty bonnet knocked a bit askew. He reached up to adjust it gently, just a tad, so it was straight, framing her adorable face again.
"There, now you're better. You're just right." His voice broke with emotion, and he couldn't hide it or pretend it wasn't. The woman raised a hand to her chest, attempting to slow her breathing, to calm her ebbing fear.
"Whew, that was a close one. I didn't even see the horse coming."
"He was a wild one. Likely one I'm supposed to train." Frisco fought the urge to drop to his knees in gratitude, blinking twice against the burn of emotion behind his eyes. Overcome with relief, he drew her into his arms right there in the middle of the boardwalk, in the middle of the chaos of Stuart and his brother catching the horses, others from the saloon had raced to help, and that all blurred into the background as he held his woman to his chest so tight. So tight.
Oh, it was unbelievable to hold her and just savor her, every little curling tendril catching on the day's stubble on his chin, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of her, holding her against his heart that beat only for her.
"You saved me." She gazed up at him in wonder. "I can't believe it was you."
"Lucky me."
His heart soared, his emotions rising higher than the clouds in the sky, and then the very blue of it, so high, it felt like touching heaven. Images flashed through his mind of their first kiss, of taking her hand to help her into his vehicle, of how cute and funny she'd looked, so dear, in men's trousers that night she'd been hoping to scrape gold out of the creek bank on her family's claim. Of the hope in her eyes when he'd first laid her out naked on his bed.
"Frisco." She splayed her hands against his chest. Her face crumpled with sadness. "This isn't right. You can't hold me like this."
"Why not? You owe me. I saved your life." Here she was, in his arms, easing a little away from his chest, eking back a step needing space between them. It felt like if he gave in and let her, then the distance between them would be too much and he'd lose her in a different way for life. So, he held on and didn't let her slip away. "You owe me."
"I-I do?"
"Big time. You're going to pay up and have to pay up big."
"What do you mean?"
"You and I are going to talk."
"Talk?" Her gaze shot to the fabric store, just steps away. Her instincts shouted at her to escape while she could, but she couldn't seem to make her feet move. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Too bad. I do." He towered over her, limned by sunlight, his Stetson shading his chiseled face. His blue muslin shirt molded to his broad shoulders, muscled chest and powerful arms. His denims hugged lean hips and long, muscled legs.
"I still can't believe you saved me. I thought I was going to die, but then someone wrapped his arms around me, and it was you." She licked her dry lips. "Why did it have to be you?"
"Fate. Destiny. Thank my lucky stars above for that. I didn't think I could reach you in time, but fortunately for you, I made it, and we're both here. Right here and now, and I want to talk to you."
"And I'm afraid to hear what you have to say." She shivered, feeling cold even in the hot kiss of the sun and with his arms enfolding her, trapping her, forcing her to stay. Which is what she really wanted anyway. A foolish notion, and she feared how he would look at her when he knew the truth, because he was right. She owed him that and more. Her knees began shaking too hard. "I need to sit down."
"Where are you going?"
"I still have my key. Our family store is across the street." Look at all the people around. She cared too much to let him be seen receiving some very bad news. She didn't want to make him unhappy. Her feet were already moving, her body tingling from his touch, heat spiraling through her thick and molten, just as it had when she'd been naked with him in his bed.
"Then let's go." He nodded, the gentleman that he was, and offered his hand to help her step from the boardwalk to the dirt street. She tugged away quickly the moment the sole of her right shoe touched the ground. Down the way, the horses were back lined up in front of the hitching post, tied and calmer. The gun shooters were stomping back into the saloon to go one more round of poker. "At least it's quieter."
"I'll miss all the excitement. The gun fights. The robberies. The drunk old guy who wanders down from the saloon and gives flowers to every female he meets, all two of them. Especially the antics of your sons' ponies. I hear our shop hasn't been the only one."
"I had to pay for four new fly swatters, a new broom and have them sent over to the feed store to appease the Hayes family. Mr. Hayes is still limping. Bad bruise, and he will have a full recovery."
"Glad to know that. I happened to see Mrs. Hayes take a fly swatter to Chester."
"Pointless, really. He's bold and he's got a lot of nerve. Not to mention he's good with his teeth. He can open gates, doors, latches, barrels and bite into any moving object. He stole Aiden's hat at a trot when the boy was tossing a pail of water on his brother."
"Chester sounds like he requires better, if not perfect, behavior from his boys."
"Chester and Maynard are starting to run the ranch. Even the foreman answers to them."
"It's good to know who's in charge."
"I agree." His hand cupped her elbow as she stepped onto the boardwalk. He stole the key right out of her shaking hands and inserted it into the lock. One twist, and the door whispered open. The emptiness of the store front echoed around her as she stepped in.
The door closed with a click. Awkward, that silence settling between them. Where did she start? And how could she find the heart to say the words that would make him dislike her for
ever?
"How do I say this?" He stared down at the toes of his boots, so close but yet feeling so far away. "I think I know the reason why you pulled way from me, why you ended it. Well, I'm starting it back up again."
"What do you mean?"
"I told you. You can come over for supper tonight to my place, we can pick up meals to take out from the hotel's diner, and you and I can talk more in my bedroom."
"Talk? That's not how I remember it."
"Oh, there was a lot of talk between bouts, remember?" His voice deepened, husky with arousal and emotion.
She glanced at the front door, wishing she could escape, but she couldn't seem to make her feet carry her forward. No, she was no coward. She would see this through to the end, the one where Frisco's high regard for her plummeted to nothing at all. She gulped, her face crinkling with pain. "I'm not the woman you think I am."
"Do you have a secret identity?" He waited until she shook her head. "Are you on a wanted poster? Running from the law? A former bank robber?"
"Of course not!" She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, refusing to allow herself one single hint of a smile. Not a single hint! When she wished they could be laughing and closing the distance between them, she felt a chill settle in her stomach. "I'm divorced."
"What?" Surprised, he read the pain in her eyes and swayed on his feet. Boy, was he shocked silent.
"There, the truth is out." She blew out a painful sigh. "I've been honest with you. That wasn't easy at all."
"What happened?"
"My former husband had a tendency to go gambling at the saloon when he was supposed to be at work as a teamster. A traveling teamster. He would be away from home a week or two at a time, and I'd wait home for him, planning so much for his return, trying to get everything just right for him, just the way he would like it. I missed him so much."
"And he gambled your financial stability away?"
"Not entirely. He didn't have a gambling problem, the way my Pa has. What he had was an opportunity to find someone better than me. Someone prettier, younger, and more, well, she's what I am not, and that was fine by him." Her hands fell to her sides, looking bereft. "He shamed my entire family when he demanded a divorce. I let him go as fast as I could, just so he would leave town, and he took all his money with him and his new wife."
