Wyoming Winter. Diana Palmer
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Her eyes widened. “You put it in a pail, like you milk cows with?” she asked, shocked.
He glowered at her. “There’s this chicken place. They sell you chicken and biscuits and sides...”
She went red as fire. “Oh, gosh, sorry, wasn’t thinking,” she stammered. “Let’s go in! Daddy’s already at the table.”
Rodney went ahead, but J.C. slid a long finger inside the back of Colie’s sweater and gently stopped her. He moved forward, so that she could feel the heat and power of him at her back in a way that made her heart run wild, her knees shiver. “I was teasing,” he whispered right next to her ear. His lips brushed it.
Her intake of breath was visible. Her whole body felt shaky.
His big hands caught her shoulders and held her there while his lips traveled down the side of her throat in a lazy, whispery caress that caused her to melt inside.
“Do you like movies?” he whispered.
“Well, yes...”
“There’s a new comedy at the theater Saturday. Go with me. We’ll have supper at the fish place on the way.”
She turned, shocked. “You...you want to go out with me?” she asked, her green eyes wide and full of delight.
He smiled slowly. “Yes. I want to go out with you.”
“Saturday?”
He nodded.
“What time?”
“We’ll leave about five.”
“That would be lovely,” she said, drowning in his eyes, on fire with the joy he’d just kindled in her with the unexpected invitation.
“Lovely,” he murmured, but he was looking at her mouth.
“Colie? Supper?” her father’s amused voice floated out from the dining room.
“Supper.” She was dazed. “Oh. Supper! Yes! Coming!”
J.C. followed close behind her, his smile as smug and arrogant as the look on his face. Colie wanted him. He knew it without a word being spoken.
He seated Colie, to her amazement, and then pulled out a chair for himself.
“Good to have you with us, J.C.,” the reverend said gently. “Say grace, Colie, if you please,” he added.
J.C. felt stunned as the others bowed their heads and Colie mumbled a prayer. He wasn’t much on religion, but he did bow his head. When in Rome...
* * *
IT WAS A pleasant meal. Reverend Thompson seemed shocked at J.C.’s knowledge of biblical history as he mentioned a recent dig in Israel that had turned up some new relics of antiquity, and J.C. remarked on it with some authority.
“My mother was from southern Ireland. Catholic,” he added quietly. “She was forever asking the local priest to loan her books on archaeology. It was a passion of his.”
“She couldn’t get them off the internet?” Rodney queried.
J.C. laughed. “We lived in the Yukon, Rod,” he told him with some amusement. “We didn’t have television or the internet.”
“No TV?” Rodney exclaimed. “What did you do for fun?”
“Hunted, fished, helped chop firewood, learned foreign languages from my neighbors. Read,” he added. “I still don’t watch television. I don’t own one.”
“Do you hear that?” Reverend Thompson interjected, pointing to J.C. “That’s how people become intelligent, not from watching people take off their clothing and use foul language on television!”
“It’s his soapbox,” Rodney said complacently. “He only lets me have satellite because I help pay for it.”
“The world is wicked,” the reverend said heavily. “So much immorality. It’s like fighting a tsunami.”
“There, there, Daddy, you do your part to stop it,” Colie said gently, and smiled.
He smiled back. “You’re my legacy, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re so like your mother. She was a gentle woman. She never went with the crowd.”
“I hate crowds,” Colie said.
“Me, too,” Rodney added.
J.C. just stared into space. “I hate people. The best of them will turn on you, given the opportunity.”
“Son, that’s a very harsh attitude,” the reverend said gently.
J.C. finished his turkey and sipped black coffee. “Sorry. We’re the products of our environment, as much as our genetics.” He glanced at the older man with dead eyes. “I’ve been sold out by the people I loved most. It doesn’t encourage trust.”
“You have to consider that we all have a purpose,” the reverend said solemnly. “I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives when they do, for a reason. Some bring out good qualities in us, some bring out bad. Life is a test.”
“If it is, I’ve sure failed it already.” Rodney sighed. He nodded toward Colie. “She’s got a big jar. Every time I swear, I have to put in a nickel. I’ll be bankrupt in days!” he moaned.
Reverend Thompson laughed wholeheartedly. “Now, that’s creative thinking, my girl!”
“I’d take a bow, but the pie would get cold,” she teased, as she served it up.
She noticed that J.C. seemed to love his. He glanced at her, saw her watching him and grinned. She flushed and fumbled with her fork.
The reverend watched the byplay with amusement and concern. Colie was an innocent. He knew things about J.C., who was vocal about his distaste for family life and children. Colie would want marriage and kids. J.C. wouldn’t. It was a mismatch that could lead to tragedy for his daughter. He saw the danger ahead and wished he could stop it.
They had relatives in Comanche Wells, Texas, a small town in Jacobs County. He could send Colie there. She’d be away from J.C...
Even as he thought it, he realized how impractical it was. Colie had a good job. She loved Catelow. And if her continual sighing over J.C. Calhoun was any indication, she was already halfway in love. She’d never dated much, except for an occasional double date with an older girlfriend who’d later married and moved to Billings. She didn’t go out these days. She worked and cooked and cleaned and read books. Even the reverend realized it wasn’t much of a life for a young woman, who should be out learning about life.
It was just that she was going to learn things that he disapproved of. He looked at J.C., saw the way the man was watching Colie, and something inside СКАЧАТЬ