McKenna's Bartered Bride. Sandra Steffen

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СКАЧАТЬ Jake thought, reaching for the ice-cold bottle of beer in front of him. That DoraLee was all right.

      “What else is there?” Neil Anderson grumbled.

      A few other men mumbled in agreement, and Forest continued in the same vein. “It’s just that Rory and Josie are complete opposites. I mean, nobody was surprised when our very own Melody McCully married Clayt Carson. ’Cepting maybe Clayt. And do you know why? Because they’re two peas in a pod.”

      “Sometimes opposites attract,” Cletus McCully, Melody’s grandfather said, his thumbs hooked around his navy blue suspenders.

      “That’s true,” Forest agreed. “Look at Lisa and Wyatt. He’s one of the leaders of our fine community, and he up and married a girl who had a reputation.”

      “A reputation Lisa didn’t earn,” DoraLee admonished.

      “Yes,” Forest said, “but Rory’s earned his. That man’s a hound dog if there ever was one.”

      “Anybody hear a weather report lately?” Jake asked.

      Forest looked at him in an abstract, absent sort of way. “There’s a chance of rain all week. The point I’m tryin’ to make is this.”

      Jake scowled into his beer. Nobody took longer to make a point than Forest Wilkie.

      “I can’t see Rory settling down with sweet, shy Josie Callahan. He’s sown some pretty wild oats, and—”

      “He’s probably sowing a few more tonight,” Neil cut in.

      Jake rose to his feet so fast his chair shot out behind him. He was aware of the gazes following him as he dropped a few bills on the counter and headed for the door. He’d reached the sidewalk out front when one of the other Anderson brothers’ voices carried through the open door.

      “Guess we scraped a raw nerve.”

      “It ain’t hard to do. Jake’s got more raw nerves than an open wound.”

      Jake scowled as he opened the door on his truck. Hiking one boot on the dusty running board, he happened to glance up at the window over the dime store next door. The upstairs apartment was dark. Must be Rory and Josie weren’t back yet. Unless they were back and hadn’t bothered turning on the lights.

      He hauled himself into his seat, slammed the door and started the engine. The patch of rubber he laid squealing away from the curb didn’t curtain his frustration in the least. He rounded the corner, opened his window and cranked up the volume on the radio. The village limit sign was up ahead. Beyond it stretched miles and miles of empty highway. He pressed his foot to the accelerator and headed for the open road where he could drive until he’d taken the edge off his agitation. He figured a hundred miles might do it.

      The wind was warm, the music was loud, his truck was running like a well-tuned machine. Ah. This was more like it. Those rough edges were already starting to dissolve.

      His mind wandered to the ranch, the herd, his horse, the conversation he’d overheard in the Crazy Horse. That man’s a hound dog if there ever was one. Jake imagined O’Grady putting the moves on Josie. Rory had always been a smooth talker. He’d been known to brag that he could get a woman out of her clothes in fifteen seconds or less. Jake imagined Rory trying to get Josie out of hers. He slammed on the brakes and made a U-turn before he could wipe the image from his brain.

      He killed the radio and drove back into town in silence, his agitation mom prickly than ever. The first thing he noticed when he pulled into the alley that ran behind the buildings on the east side of Main Street was the shiny red truck parked near Josie’s back stairs. The second thing he noticed was the light in the window overlooking the alley. Had they just gotten back? Or had they just turned on the light?

      Jake pulled into the shadows behind the Crazy Horse Saloon. Strumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he told himself he was only there to make sure O’Grady brought Josie home safe and sound.

      He turned off the engine and heaved a deep sigh. He was no better at lying to himself than he was at lying to anybody else.

      He and Rory had always been rivals. Jake didn’t know how it had started, but he distinctly remembered the day it had come to a head. He and Rory had both been twelve. They’d buried Jake’s brother a few weeks earlier, and Jake was feeling surly. Mrs. Fergusson had just announced that parents’ night was coming up. Rory had leaned over and whispered, “Guess your mother won’t wanna leave her rich boyfriend down in Texas to come. My father says a woman who takes money for sex is a whore whether she’s on a street corner or in a penthouse.”

      Jake had gotten a week’s detention for breaking Rory’s nose. Neither of them had ever apologized, and they’d never been friends since.

      Rory O‘Grady had always been cocky and arrogant and conceited. But he wasn’t an ax murderer or a rapist. The O’Gradys were braggarts, not bad people, annoying, but not evil. Jake peered at the lit window, uncomfortable, because that meant he couldn’t pretend that he was hiding in the shadows out of some noble responsibility to make sure Josie was safe. He couldn’t even blame it on his aversion to coming in second. Okay, part of it might have been jealousy. Most of it was Josie. That was where it got complicated. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head ever since he’d heard her laugh. For crying out loud, he’d found himself saying her name every time he thought about those hundred acres over by Sugar Creek. It was almost as if someone was tampering with his thoughts.

      Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned his head just as Rory ambled down the steps. He was whistling, but his steps didn’t appear any more jaunty than usual. Jake took that as a good sign.

      While Rory got in his truck and drove away, Jake tried to decide what to do. There wouldn’t be any harm in sauntering on up to her place and saying hello. Jake peered around. The voice had been in his head, but it hadn’t sounded like his conscience. It was the damnedest thing. But it wasn’t a bad idea.

      Maybe he and Josie could talk awhile. Maybe she would laugh again.

      He eased out of the truck, looked all around and set off for the stairs. His tread was light, and a pleasant breeze wafted through his shirt as he raised his fist and knocked softly on the glass.

      Josie was smiling when she opened the door. He could hardly blame her smile for slipping away. His arrival was a surprise.

      “Evening, Josephine.”

      “Jake!”

      He noticed how nice she looked in her light green dress. “Nice night,” he said.

      “Yes, I guess it is.” Her eyes were shining and her lips formed another smile, this one for him. It was amazing, the way she made smiling look so easy. She appeared to have had a good time with Rory. She didn’t, however, appear to have been kissed. It was a shame, too, because she had such a kissable mouth.

      He would never know what made him swoop down, covering her mouth with his. Her lips parted on a gasp. He brought his hand to her face, threading his fingers through her hair. His mouth moved over hers even as he tipped her head back, deepening the kiss, her surprise slowly turning into pleasure. A soft groan sounded in her throat, and her lips opened beneath his. Lord, she tasted sweet, her lips moist and warm and giving.

      Her fingertips СКАЧАТЬ