Maureen McKade (4 page)

Her eyes glinted humorously, catching Jake off-guard. He studied her as if seeing her for the first time: the high cheekbones and upswept brow, the delicate jaw and slightly upturned nose. The only feature that hadn’t changed were her startling blue eyes.

“It’s been a lot of years since anyone’s called me Fatty Four-Eyes.” Despite her nonchalant tone, years-old hurt flashed in her face. “Did you ride out all this way just to see if I’d sell?” she asked.

He fingered the coffee cup’s handle. “I stopped by the cemetery first.”

“To visit your father and Maggie?” Sympathy shone in her expression.

“How’d you know about Maggie?”

Guilt flickered across her face. “She was a friend.”

Jake sensed she held something back from him. “She worked in a saloon.”

Kit’s clear gaze met his. “What’s your point, Mr. Cordell?”

Jake lifted a hand in question. “How did you meet her? Did you work with her?”

Her cheeks flamed. “I never worked with her, and she didn’t always work in a saloon.”

Jake waited, expecting her to elaborate, but Kit remained silent. “Do you know how she died?”

Kit turned to look out a window, giving Jake an unhindered view of her delicately molded profile. “She just got sick.”

“Did a doctor see her?”

“No. She didn’t want one.”

Frustration gnawed at Jake’s gut. “Someone should’ve gotten him anyhow.”

Kit brought her attention back to him. Raw grief glittered in her eyes like unshed tears. “I tried, but you knew Maggie. Do you think she’d have let a doctor examine her if I had gone against her wishes?”

Jake’s throat tightened at Kit’s anguish. It’d been a long time since he’d felt anyone’s pain so deeply. He gazed out a lace-curtained window, gathering his thoughts. “Maggie was stubborn once she set her mind to something,” he admitted. He balled his hand into a fist, realized what he’d done, and forced himself to relax. “I wish I could’ve helped her.”

Kit stared at the fire crackling in the hearth. “She cared for you more than any other man she’d known.”

“Did she die alone?” he asked quietly.

“No. I was with her at the end.”

Jake leveled his troubled gaze at Kit. “Do you think I was wrong to leave her working in the saloon?”

Her expression unreadable, she replied, “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

He shifted uncomfortably. For some reason, it
did
matter what she thought.

Jake blinked back memories. He didn’t want to dwell
in the past any longer. “Why did you get me out of jail yesterday?”

“Maggie would’ve wanted me to.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Her fingers curled into fists in her lap, and she shook her head. “I owed you for being my friend when I needed one.”

Her poignancy tugged at Jake’s heart. “You don’t owe me anything.”

She gazed at him for a moment, then asked, “Will you be staying in Chaney, Mr. Cordell?”

He flashed her a quick smile. “Call me Jake, like you used to. I thought I’d stay for a little while and try my hand at being a lawyer.”

Surprise lit Kit’s features. “So you
did
get your law degree.”

Jake nodded. “I’ve never actually been in a courtroom, but with a little brushing up, I should be able to write some wills and contracts.”

“From bounty hunter hero to lawyer? That’ll be quite a change for you.” She reached for the coffeepot. “Would you like some more coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.” Jake held out his cup to be refilled. “Maybe now T. K. Thorne will leave me alone and stop writing those damn books.”

Kit jerked, spilling hot coffee over Jake’s hand.

Chapter 3

“O
w!” Jake exclaimed, coming to his feet.

Her face flaming, Kit jumped up and grabbed a napkin from the tray. She thrust the cloth at him. “Here.”

As he dabbed at the reddened skin, he managed a crooked grin. “Is this my payback for those rotten things I said to you yesterday morning?”

In spite of her embarrassment, Kit smiled slightly. “If it was, I’d have dumped the whole pot over your head.”

Jake chuckled, a full, deep sound that unexpectedly warmed Kit’s heart. It’d been a long time since she’d heard his laughter.

She lowered the pot to the tray. “I’m sorry, Jake.” Reaching for his scalded hand, she raised it to examine more closely. The angry red skin made her grimace with self-reproach. “I’ll get some butter to put on it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll survive,” Jake reassured. “At least it’s not my gunhand.”

Kit released him, her stomach clenching anxiously. Had the books placed his life in jeopardy? She knew a bounty hunter’s lot wasn’t a safe one, but she hadn’t even considered that the dime novels could further endanger
Jake. “I thought you’d like the books, since they showed all the good you did.”

He snorted. “Hardly. Besides, nobody but a saint could live up to that Jake Cordell.” He lowered himself back into his chair and rested an ankle on his knee. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem.”

Johnny burst in, slamming the door behind him.

Grateful for the interruption, Kit reminded her son with practiced patience, “Don’t forget to hang up your jacket.”

Johnny did as she said and ran into the room to lay an arm across Jake’s shoulders. “Zeus and Cassie got along real good, just like best friends. Cassie was whispering something in Zeus’s ear when I left.”

“Who’s Cassie?” Jake asked.

“Ma’s horse. She’s smaller than Zeus, but she’s just as smart,” Johnny said.

Jake gazed at Kit, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sure she is.”

“You wanna go upstairs and see my horse collection? I got lots and lots of horses—all different colors and sizes.”

“Sure, if it’s all right with your mother,” Jake replied.

“Please, Ma?” Johnny begged.

Kit looked from one expectant face to the other and found she couldn’t deny either one. “All right.”

Johnny clasped Jake’s hand and led him up the steps.

For a long moment, Kit remained rooted in place. Seeing the two of them together had brought a myriad of emotions scurrying for attention, anxiety the most prevalent.

Did Jake recognize his own son—the mirroring brown eyes and crooked grin? Allowing them to spend time together could end in disaster, but Kit didn’t have the fortitude to forbid it. She hadn’t agreed with Maggie’s
edict to keep Johnny’s birth from his father, yet Kit knew she could lose her son if Jake learned the truth—and it was for that reason that she remained silent.

Sighing heavily, Kit stood and carried the coffee tray into the kitchen.

Footsteps on the stairs fifteen minutes later prompted Kit to meet Johnny and Jake at the bottom of the staircase. She slipped on her spectacles, feeling a familiar security behind the lenses. “Did you show Mr. Cordell your horses?”

“Yep, and he liked them—didn’t you, Mr. Cordell?” Johnny asked.

“I sure did, especially the stud horse called Satan.” Jake’s dark eyes danced with merriment.

Jake Cordell had an uncanny ability to communicate with his famed palomino, Zeus. The prized animal had been given to Jake by a rich Spaniard in appreciation for a job Jake had done for the man. Named after the Greek god, Zeus had lived up to his name with his courage and cunning, as well as his proclivity toward the mares
.

Embarrassed warmth spread across Kit’s cheeks. “Well, I see you got a thorough description of each one.”

“If the real Satan is anything like Johnny’s Satan, he must be quite a horse.”

“My hired man, Charlie, taught me how to recognize good bloodlines. Satan’s the reason my colts and fillies get top dollar,” she replied.

“I wouldn’t mind a tour of the place sometime when the weather cooperates.”

“Like the tour I gave you years ago?”

Jake laughed. “I’d forgotten about that.” He looked down at Johnny. “Did your ma ever tell you about the time her pet chipmunk attacked me?”

Johnny’s eyes saucered. “Uh-uh.”

“I came over one day to bring her a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest,” Jake began. “Since I was there, I asked her if I could see the other animals she was taking care of. While I was leaning over one of the cages, this chipmunk jumps onto my back and starts making the most godawful noises I’d ever heard.”

“That wasn’t the chipmunk making those horrible noises; that was you,” Kit corrected with a grin. “I never did figure out who was more scared, you or Chippy.”

Johnny howled with laughter. “You were scared of a little chipmunk?”

A sheepish grin slid across Jake’s face. “It didn’t seem so little at the time.”

Kit recalled that day with sparkling clarity. A week after Jake had rescued her from Will Jameson and his fellow tormentors, he had brought the baby robin to her. The bird had seemed very tiny and fragile in Jake’s cupped palms. She’d given the young creature extra care, and a month later she and Jake had set it free.

She glanced down at Jake’s hands, which hung loosely at his sides. Remembering how they had tenderly cradled the baby bird, Kit wondered if he still possessed such a gentle touch—or if his years as a bounty hunter had changed that, too.

Dragging her gaze up to his face, she asked, “Would you like to stay for lunch?”

“I think I’ve intruded enough for one day,” Jake said.

“C’mon, Mr. Cordell, please stay. Ma makes the best peach cobbler in the world,” Johnny added.

“Well, thank you, young man,” Kit said fondly, smoothing down his cowlick. She glanced at Jake, noticing a tuft of unruly hair in the same place as Johnny’s. Quickly she looked away. Taking a deep breath, she forced the corners of her lips to turn upward. “Really, it’s no problem, Jake. I have more than enough.”

“As long as I’m not intruding.”

“You aren’t,” Kit reassured. “Johnny, show Jake where the sink is. And don’t forget to wash your own hands.”

Johnny led him through the kitchen, which had changed little since Jake had lived there. For a split second he could envision his mother next to the stove, her cheeks rosy, ebony tendrils curling about her face. Jake nearly stumbled in his haste to escape the apparition, and he followed Johnny to the enclosed porch.

Standing by the pump, Johnny snorted. “Why does Ma always make me wash up? A little dirt ain’t going to hurt.”

“Because that’s what women do. Besides, don’t you think we’d get awfully dirty if they weren’t around to remind us?” Jake winked at the boy.

“I don’t care. I like being dirty.”

Jake tried to remember how his father had handled his stubborn petulance. “Well, let’s humor her and clean up, because we may not get any of that cobbler if we don’t.”

After a moment’s thought, Johnny agreed.

When they were done, Johnny wrapped his small fingers around Jake’s hand. Surprised by the trusting gesture, Jake instinctively squeezed the boy’s hand.

Jake wished his own father had given him some sign of affection. He couldn’t remember his father ever holding his hand or telling him he loved him. For a fleeting moment he wondered what it would be like to have a child. He sure as hell would spend more time with him than Jonathan Cordell had spared his son.

Kit placed the last of the bowls on the table and turned to see Jake and Johnny enter the dining room hand in hand. Her heart plowed into her ribs, missing a few beats. She’d often dreamed of seeing father and son together in this house. Yet the reality of it troubled her, and she wondered if someone might see the resemblance
between the man and the boy: the deep brown eyes and strong, square-cut jaw. Thankfully, Johnny had inherited his mother’s lighter colored hair, as well as her generous mouth. With a little luck, nobody would see the similarities as clearly as Kit did.

“I hope you both washed good,” she said.

Jake winked at Johnny, who giggled, and the two of them raised their hands.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake replied dutifully.

Kit shook her head, unable to resist the playful glimmer in Jake’s dark eyes. Despite the gunbelt slung low on his hips, she glimpsed a side of the teasing young man she’d known before he’d left Chaney.

Laughing, she took one of Jake’s strong hands in hers, pretending to inspect it. The long, slender fingers curved around her palm for a moment, and the light sprinkling of hair across the back of his hand tickled her. Her breath seemed to rasp more loudly in her ears. Startled by her body’s response, she glanced at Jake. His rugged face had gone still except for his untelling eyes, which studied her closely.

She swallowed, releasing him like a hot branding iron. Struggling to keep her voice even, she said, “You pass inspection.”

Turning to her son, she examined his hands. Would they grow as strong as his father’s? Already she could see that the same blunt nails capped Johnny’s fingertips. Trembling, she released her son, not noticing if he’d cleaned well or not. “Okay, you can go sit down, too.”

Trying to regain her aplomb, Kit brought the food from the kitchen and deposited it on the table, then joined Jake and Johnny.

During the lively meal, Johnny stole the majority of Jake’s attention.

“Ma said you used to live here when you were my size,” Johnny said.

“That’s right,” Jake said. “But I didn’t spend a lot of time here.”

Johnny’s face scrunched up. “Why not?”

“Whenever my father had to leave town on business, he’d put me with someone to stay with until he got home.”

“What about your ma?”

“It was just my pa and me,” Jake replied.

Kit detected the bitter hurt in his voice, and wanted to touch him, to lend him her understanding. Instead, she laid her clenched hands in her lap.

“Do you like living here?” Jake asked Johnny.

The boy’s eyes sparkled. “Yep. I play with Toby and Jasper and the other animals. And Ma promised she’d teach me how to ride pretty soon. And I like to explore.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

Johnny shook his head. “I got Ma and Charlie and Ethan and Pete and Toby.”

Jake smiled. “I’ve met Toby, but who’re Charlie, Ethan, and Pete?”

“Charlie and Ethan work here, and Pete is an old Indian who came with the ranch,” Kit answered. “I’m surprised he wasn’t around when you lived here.”

“He teaches me all kind of things,” Johnny interjected. “Like how to count coup, and how to scalp folks.”

Jake’s mouth twitched with amusement, and he winked at Kit. “Looks like you’re going to have a little warrior in the family.”

“See, Ma? Even Mr. Cordell thinks so,” Johnny said in an I-told-you-so tone.

Kit chuckled. “Pete considers himself Johnny’s grandfather, and in his tribe, the elders taught the children.” She shrugged. “Pete’s heart is in the right place.”

“Will you teach me how to ride, Mr. Cordell?”
Johnny asked. “Ma said she would, but she’s always too busy.”

“Johnny, it’s not polite to ask such a thing. As soon as I have some time, I’ll teach you,” Kit said.

Jake finished his dessert and pushed back his empty plate. “I suspect I won’t be real busy with my law practice to start with, so I wouldn’t mind giving Johnny some riding lessons.”

Johnny whooped with joy. “Is it okay, Ma? Please?”

Kit folded her napkin and placed it on the table. One of the reasons she hadn’t found the time was because she was fearful for his safety. Despite Johnny’s affinity for animals, a horse was still unpredictable, and Johnny could be hurt. Gazing at her son’s expectant face, she couldn’t come up with a single reason to forbid it. “All right, as long as it doesn’t take too much of Jake’s time.”

The grandfather clock in the front room struck two.

“Time to do your chores, Johnny,” Kit said.

The boy slid off his chair and moved to Jake’s side. “When can we start?”

“Next time I come visit,” Jake replied.

“When’ll that be?”

“A day or two. Deal?” He stuck out his hand.

“Deal,” Johnny replied, and his small hand was swallowed up by Jake’s larger one.

A few moments later, Kit heard the door open and close.

Jake smiled fondly. “He’s quite a boy.”

Kit planted an elbow on the table and propped her chin in her palm. “He can talk your ear off when he gets going, but on the whole, he’s a good boy.”

“I remember being pretty contrary when I was his age. My father used to polish my backside good. It must’ve helped, because I didn’t lose my temper half as often.”

A smile twitched Kit’s lips. “At least not in front of him.” She sobered. “I’m sorry about your father. I was at the funeral, but I didn’t have time to talk to you. Judge Cordell always used to say hello to me and tip his hat like I was a real lady.”

Bitterness clouded Jake’s eyes. “My father wasn’t around much while I was growing up.” He laughed caustically. “Do you want to hear something funny? As much as I resented my father, I’ve become him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Jake waved a negligent hand. “Forget it.” He smiled, though the gesture appeared forced. “I do have something the great Jonathan Cordell doesn’t. Thanks to T. K. Thorne, I have a reputation.”

Kit shivered at his cynical tone.

“I’d best be getting back to town. I’ve got to talk to the doctor about that room above his office,” Jake said.

He stood and Kit led the way to the foyer. Plucking his hat and jacket off a peg, she handed them to him.

“Thank you for everything, Kit. I enjoyed the company, and the meal,” Jake said sincerely. “And if you have second thoughts about selling the ranch, let me know.”

She shook her head firmly. “That won’t happen, Jake.”

He grasped her hand gently, holding her captive. “Think about it, Kit. Think how much better off Johnny would be in town, close to school.”

His warm, callused palm pressed against hers, and awareness curled in Kit’s stomach. Her mind clouded and she worked to focus on his words. “I’ve worked too hard to give it up.”