Cowboy's Special Woman

“Yes, and then he married grandmother and added on to the house. When it passed to Dad, he built the family room, a bath and another bedroom. I love the old house. I’ve redecorated a lot of it, getting it ready to be a bed-and-breakfast.”

She turned and walked down the hall and he moved beside her. “You’ll have strangers in your house when you have a bed-and-breakfast.”

“That’ll be different,” she said, then bit her lip and her cheeks flushed, and his curiosity soared about her answer.

“How’ll it be different?”

The pink in her cheeks deepened. “Dad will be home then.”

“He might not be here every night. And your daughter might be gone, too. I don’t think that’s what you meant when you said it would be different, Maggie,” he drawled softly, taking her arm lightly. “How’ll it be different?”

He was aware of touching her, holding her arm so lightly because he didn’t want to frighten her. And he knew he was treading dangerous ground with his persistent question, yet he couldn’t resist. Sparks flew between them that kept the air and his blood sizzling. He wanted to kiss her and he wanted to hear the answer to his question.

She looked up at him, wide-eyed, but in the depths of her eyes was something else, something age-old, a look from a woman to a man, and his pulse jumped.

“You probably have this effect on every woman,” she said so quietly he had to lean closer to hear her.

“What effect?” he asked, with his voice getting husky.

She gave a toss of her head and sparks glittered in the depths of her eyes. “You know good and well what effect you have!” She turned and waved her hand toward an open bedroom decorated in blue. “You can have that bedroom to change in. There’s a bathroom connected to it and there are towels and wash cloths in the bathroom cabinet. Help yourself. I’ll be downstairs.” Her words were rushed together.

If he wasn’t filthy, sweaty, burned and blistered from the fire he would have pursued their conversation, but right now he wanted a shower before he got one inch closer to her and delved into her remarks that set his heart racing.

She hurried to the stairs and turned to look at him. “Would you like a salad and cold chicken and a baked potato?”

“That sounds great. I’ll be down soon.”

She nodded and disappeared and he wiped his hot brow as he turned to enter a large bedroom with a bright blue-and-white quilt on the brass bed. In minutes he was in the shower and he wondered if she was talking to Jeb for a reference.

Downstairs, Maggie doodled on the pad while she listened to Jeb Stuart. Then her hand became still and she turned to look at the empty doorway while she listened, and her heart started drumming while her ideas about Jake took another sharp turn.

Three

Maggie listened to the deep voice on the phone tell her how reliable Jake was. Jeb told her in detail how Jake had saved his life in Colombia when they had been in the Airborne and on a rescue mission. Closing her eyes, she could visualize the image again of Jake running into the burning barn and then just minutes later, emerging with her father slung over his shoulder. So he was reliable and a wonderful person and she had insulted him and she was being ridiculous.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, only a portion of her uneasiness erased. She replaced the receiver and stared out the window at the blackened field. She didn’t want Jake working for them, but it was that disturbing electricity she experienced every time she was around him that worried her. She didn’t remember feeling that way around Bart and she had been in love with him and had married him.

She gave a slight shake of her shoulders. She and Jake had already discussed the situation. She would hire someone else, and he would go. He didn’t want to be tied down here anyway.

She got out the cold chicken and swiftly set the table, putting potatoes in the microwave oven to bake, then getting out the loaf of homemade bread that was only half eaten. She sliced tomatoes and set them on the table.

“What a picture,” Jake drawled, and she spun around. He stood in the doorway with his hair slicked back, giving him an entirely different appearance, revealing his prominent cheekbones more sharply. He had changed to a white T-shirt and wore jeans and his boots, a sight that made her pulse skip.

“Picture?”

“A pretty woman, scrumptious chicken and an old-fashioned kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t think those would be the things that appeal to you. You sound like you like life in the fast lane.”

He shrugged and strolled into the room, dark gaze on her, and a faint smile curving his mouth. “I like all of those things—pretty women, good food—I guess I don’t care one way or other about kitchens. Since I haven’t eaten for over twenty-four hours now, that food looks like a feast.”

“I’ll pour water and we’ll eat.”

As she reached into the cabinet, his hand brushed hers and he took a glass from her. She turned and he was right beside her, brushing against her shoulder. “I’ll get the drinks.”

“If you look in the back in the bottom of the fridge, you’ll probably find a cold beer. Dad has one now and then.”

“Thanks, but I don’t drink beer.” Jake’s brow arched. “I surprised you, didn’t I?”

As heat flushed her cheeks, she realized she had to stop judging him by his appearance. “You’ve surprised me all day,” she admitted.

“Good,” he said in a tone of voice that changed subtly and made her tingle. “Life is interesting when it holds surprises.”

“It depends on the surprises. The fire today was one heck of a surprise.”

“It was a shock and a bad one. That isn’t what I’m talking about, Maggie.”

“I’ll drink ice water,” she said, trying to get back on an impersonal level. Amusement flashed in his dark eyes before he headed to the refrigerator. She wondered if she would ever forget him moving around their house. What was it about him that carried that air of wild recklessness? He hadn’t done anything that had been out of line, yet she had the feeling he was not only capable of wildness, but that was his usual mode. She glanced out the window at the big Harley parked outside.

Setting two glasses of water on the table, he held a chair for her and she sat down. “Thanks.”

He sat facing her and as she passed the chicken to him, the phone rang. She got up to answer it, motioning him to go ahead.

It was the insurance adjustor, and she made an appointment for the next morning, the first Wednesday in August. She sat down to eat when the phone rang again.

“Go ahead and eat,” she said as she answered to talk to a friend.

While she was on the phone, someone drove up and knocked at the back door. Jake opened it for Melody Caldwell, one of Maggie’s friends. Maggie saw that Melody carried a large casserole dish.

Maggie watched while Jake flirted with Melody and Melody flirted back. Divorced, Melody lived in town. She and Maggie had known each other since they were five and Maggie knew Melody would be in no hurry to go home. She would be fascinated with Jake.

Maggie hung up. “Hi, Melody. Thanks for the food. I see you two met.” She heard an engine and glanced out to see a ranch neighbor drive up. Dressed in jeans and matching Western shirts, looking more like brother and sister than husband and wife with their red hair, Ollie and Pru Morgan climbed out of their truck and crossed the porch with food in hand. Within the hour two more neighbors arrived. After supper, all the friends helped Maggie and Jake move her things back inside the house.

It was half past ten when the last guest left. Maggie was aware of Jake standing beside her on the porch as her neighbors drove away.

“You have a lot of friends.”

“I’ve lived here all my life and so have my parents and my grandparents before them.”

Jake sat down on the wooden steps. “It’s cool and nice out here now. Sit down a minute.”

“I miss Katy being here.”

“You just talked to her a little while ago.”

“I know. She likes to stay with her cousins, and it’s good for them to grow up friends, but I miss her. Patsy has two girls, Ella who is seven and Tina who is five.”

Aware of him only a few feet away, Maggie sat down on the steps. Beside her, he stretched his long legs out in front of him. The night was cool and quiet with only the chirp of crickets and the far-off sound of a bullfrog.