Loving a Lawman (25 page)

“No, ma'am,” Jessie said. “He's just in love.”

“With who?” she asked.

Jessie smiled. “Me.”

Alma left, only to be replaced by the mayor, the principal, and Edward Ralston, who farmed tomatoes and sold them at the edge of town.

Everyone who passed by honked and waved, but for the most part, they were left alone. Jessie had needed a public confirmation of his love for her, but the town seemed to know that they needed as much privacy as a couple could get while painting the water tower in the middle of town.

Finally he finished his work with a big heart at the end and climbed down.

Jessie was waiting for him.

“Hey, cowboy, don't you know you can get arrested for defacing public property?”

He set the paint can down and gave her that ornery grin she loved so much. “It's okay. I know the sheriff.” He swooped in and captured her lips with his. “I love you, Jessie Langston. I've loved you since the day of your mother's funeral. You were standing there looking all brave and tough.”

She shook her head. “But you argued with me that day. You said—”

“Not your grandmother's. Your mother's.”

“But that was—”

“Eight years ago.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because you were Chase's girl.”

She shook her head again. “I was never Chase's girl.”

“Never?” he asked with an indulgent smile.

“Not even from that first day. You helped me up, cleaned my scraped knees, gave me an ice pop. From that moment on, I was your girl. It just took me a long time to realize it.”

“Mine,” he whispered. “Always.”

His kiss sealed the deal. Regardless of the town and the rumors, the gossip and all the troubles that might be in front of them, they had each other. They always had, though it took her a while to understand that. They had each other and they always would.

“So you get it now?” he asked several minutes later when he raised his head. The love shone in his eyes. Love for her, Jessie McAllen Langston, wild child of Cattle Creek, Texas.

She shook her head, happy tears clouding her vision. “I get it. I'm sorry I didn't get it before.”

“I know. You are a damned stubborn woman.”

“Are you going to be able to handle that?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I'm looking forward to it.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her in for another kiss, this one hotter than the one before. All she wanted to do was get him home, figure out which bed they would share, then stay in it for two days straight. But . . .

She pulled away. “Seth, it's too soon for . . .”

He winced and adjusted his jeans. “I know. I'm just happy you're staying with me. We can wait. I can wait. Just imagine how much sweeter it's going to be.”

Jessie couldn't imagine loving Seth being any better, any sweeter, but she could hardly wait to find out. “I don't know what I did to deserve a man like you, but I'm glad, whatever it was.”

He laughed and hoisted her down from the hood. Sadie barked, demanding equal attention. Seth scooped up the pooch and placed her in the backseat. “Come on. It's time to go home.”

“Home,” she said, swinging into the truck beside him. “I like the sound of that.” Her home. Their home. Where she would spend forever loving her lawman.

Four months later

B
ut we've been married for almost six months,” Seth protested.

“I don't care,” Jessie said. “You are not staying in here with me while I pee.”

He let out an annoyed sigh, then ducked out of the bathroom. It was his baby, and he had the right to know. Especially after all that they had been through.

He heard the toilet flush and rapped lightly on the door. “Jess?”

She wrenched it open. “You're making me nervous.”

“How do you think I feel?” He pushed past her and into the tiny bathroom. “Where is it?”

Jessie pointed to the cabinet where the little white wand rested on a folded piece of tissue.

“Is it pink?”

She shook her head. “This one is supposed to turn blue.”

Seth raked his hands though his hair. “I wish they
would make all these things the same. How am I supposed to keep up with what color it needs to be?”

He looked down into the tiny side-by-side windows. One was marked with a blue
X
and the other . . .

“Is that it?” he asked.

Jessie closed her eyes. “I can't look yet. It's too early. We need to wait another thirty seconds.”

“No, we don't.” The blue checkmark they were waiting for had made itself clear. Bright and wonderfully clear!

“We don't?” Jessie's eyes flew open, her gaze darting from the test wand to him.

“We don't.” He scooped her into his embrace, holding her as close as he dared. He wanted to squeeze her so tight she couldn't breathe, but he knew that wasn't a good idea. So he rocked her back and forth, basking in the joy they had found.

“Seth.” Her voice sounded a bit strained as she pulled away. “Can we wait a little before we tell everybody? I mean, you know . . .”

He knew, and he was so glad she didn't actually say the words. Nothing was going to happen to this baby. He would take her to Austin if need be. Somehow he knew everything was going to be just fine. “If that's what you want to do.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Or,” Seth said, still rocking her from side to side, “we could tell everybody at Christmas.”

Her eyes lit up at the thought. Christmas was still a couple of weeks away.

“What a present for our first holiday together,” he said. Planting a quick kiss on her lips. “It would be sort of fun to tell the family when everyone's here for Christmas.” At least Jake, Wesley, Grandma Esther, and his mother. Who knew if anyone else would make it in for the holiday?

“The best present ever,” Jessie said, tightening her arms around him and pulling him from his thoughts.

But Seth knew, he already held the best present ever right there in his arms.

Read on for a preview of the next Cattle Creek Novel,

Healing a Heart

Coming soon from Berkley
Sensation.

I
t was official. Jake ripped off his leather work gloves and shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans. He was going to kill Jessie.

This was all her fault. And she was going to pay for it one way or another.

He raised his binoculars to get a better look at the little white car that had so recently pulled into his drive. A convertible Volkswagen Beetle. Not a ranch car by any stretch.

How many did this one make? Seven? Eight? He didn't know. He'd lost count early on of how many “cowbride” wannabes had shown up on his doorstep—literally—to get a shot at Texas's fifteenth most-eligible bachelor. Heaven help them all if he had scored any higher on the scale. They'd have been wading through women. He had a ranch to run. He didn't have time to fend off ladies with wedding gleams in their eyes while his sister-in-law sat back and laughed.

Though this one seemed a little different. Field glasses still magnifying the scene, Jake peered at her. She wasn't wrapped in some slinky, stretchy second-skin dress that showed off every curve. Instead she wore faded jeans and
a hippie-looking shirt with elaborate stitching on the front. Her leather sandals weren't appropriate ranch footwear, but it was a sight better than a pair of those god-awful heels women seemed to prefer these days. The word
hippie
sprang to mind once again.

He lowered his binoculars and cranked the four-wheeler, then whistled for Kota. His blue heeler perked up at the summons and ran ahead toward the ranch house.

Best he take care of this one on his own. The last time he'd left it up to whoever answered the door, Grandma Esther had invited the woman in and had all but interviewed her to be the next Mrs. Jake Langston. And down the aisle was one place Jake never intended to walk again.

She started for the door but stopped, apparently deciding to wait for him to greet her. She turned and shielded her eyes and his heart gave a painful thump. Something about the motion was so familiar . . .

He was only a few yards away when he recognized her. Austin. And that one fantastic night . . . But her name . . .

He killed the engine and slung his leg over the side of the four-wheeler, his hands suddenly sweaty, his mouth dry.

But she wasn't here to find him because she missed him. Or wanted a repeat of that one incredible night.

Damn that article. She was only here because she had realized that he wasn't a poor work-a-day cowboy, but one of the wealthiest men in West Texas—oil excluded.

She smiled.

He scowled.

Damn he wished he could remember her name. Had they even exchanged names? It would be so much easier to kick her gold digging rear off the property if he could call her by name.

“Jake.” She said his name as if she were trying it on for size.

He stopped and propped his hands on his hips. He really didn't have time for this.

Kota had no such reservations and continued on toward the interloper. He sniffed his way toward her.

She held her ground but gave the dog a cautious glance. “Will he bite?”

“Only if you break from the herd.”

She nodded, then a nervous laugh escaped her. “I—”

He broke in. “Let me save us both the trouble and the embarrassment. I know why you're here.”

“You do?” Her brown eyes widened. He might not remember her name but those melted-chocolate eyes were burned into his soul. Along with the feel of her underneath him, on top of him . . .

“The article in
Out West
magazine.”

A frown wrinkled her brow, and she tilted her head to one side as if needing a better angle on the situation.

You're going to need more than that, sweetheart.

The hot Texas sun glinted off the chunk of purple on one side of her seal brown hair. That he didn't remember. Purple?

“And you should know, you better just clear on out right now,” he continued. “I'm not interested in it.”

The frown deepened. “It?”

“It.” He waved a hand in her general direction. The word had sounded so much more forceful in his head.

“I don't think you understand.”

“I don't think
you
understand.”

“Can we go inside and talk?”

“Nope.”

“It's hot out here and I just—”

“If you don't like the heat, stay out of Texas.”

She thought about it a second, then gave him a small smile. “That was a joke.”

“I'm trying to be as nice as I possibly can, but I've had more women crawling around here in the last few weeks than I ever imagined. It's best you just go on home.” He turned to walk away, hoping she took the hint. Maybe if
he went back into the house without inviting her she would lose interest and leave.

Yet that feeling that something about her was different panged at his midsection.

“Jake?” Grandma Esther stood on the large stone porch. “Aren't you going to invite her in? It's mighty hot out.”

“That's true, Grandma, so get on back in the air conditioning.”

“Jacob Dwight! How are you ever going to find yourself a bride if you don't invite these women in?”

He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, his feet stuck in the dirt somewhere between the driveway and the big house.

“Are the women coming here to marry you?” she asked from behind him.

“He is the seventeenth most-eligible bachelor in Texas.”

“Fifteenth,” he corrected, then winced at his own words. He wasn't making this easier on himself.

Her laughter rang, sweet and clear like a babbling brook.

Wait . . . what?

The sun had to be getting to him. He whirled around, wondering why she hadn't left.

Then he realized what was so strange about the situation, why would a hippie chick want to marry a cowboy? True, he'd shown her a few tricks in the saddle, as they say, but one completely incredible, fantastic, amazing night did not a lifestyle change make. Or something like that.

“I don't want to marry you,” she said. The light in her eyes told him she wasn't lying. “But I do need to talk to you about something.”

Just as bad.

“Come on in this house, girl.” Grandma Esther waved her in with the business end of her cane.

The brunette—why couldn't he remember her name?—edged past him.

Kota nipped at her heels.

She yelped. The cow dog had never actually bitten anyone, but Jake knew that his nips and nibbles could be a bit unnerving if you weren't used to them. He hid his smile as she skipped to the house.

Reluctantly, he followed behind.

Grandma Esther stepped to one side as she entered the house. He watched her rear disappear into the shadows of the cool foyer.

The porch offered a reprieve from the blistering sun, but another heat filled Jake. Memories of that one night when he had let his guard down. When he'd lost his resolve and tried once again to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle. He hadn't had a drink since then, but he didn't count days sober. It wasn't like that for him. But he knew with so many ghosts of could-have-beens and should-have-beens haunting him that the alcohol could take over in an instant and it was best to just stay away.

But that one night . . .

“Esther, what is going on out here?” His mother skidded to a halt when she caught sight of their visitor. But Evelyn Duvall Langston was nothing if not composed. She brushed down the sleeves of her rose-colored pearl-snap shirt. “Hello.”

“Hi.” The brunette flashed his mother a nervous smile. Bre? Was that her name? No, but it was close. Briana? Nope. That wasn't it either.

“I wasn't aware that Jake had a guest.”

“She's not a guest.” He frowned to silently instruct his mother to drop the matter.

Mom opened her mouth to speak—she never was much at following his wishes—but Grandma Esther stepped in, her cane rattling against the stone floor. “Come on, Evie. Let's give these two some privacy.”

For once Jake was grateful for his grandmother's interference. He certainly couldn't toss the brunette out on her pretty little behind with his grandmother and mother
watching. Well, he
could
, but he would never hear the end of it.

He watched Grandma Esther lead his mother into her office, then turned back to his unwanted guest.

Once again she shot him that nervous smile. She hadn't been so nervous three and a half months ago when they had—

“I don't know how to say this except to just say it.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I'm pregnant.”

He went numb as his gaze flickered to her midsection hidden under her blousy, gauzy shirt. A bus could be parked under there. Or maybe that was the point.

“Pregnant?”

Was this true? Would she even be here if it wasn't? Maybe. He had become such a target lately. Slowly he raised his gaze to hers. She was telling the truth. Somehow, someway, he knew it.

His heart constricted and the air left his lungs even as he tried to speak.

His worst nightmare.

His stomach clenched and his fingers tingled from a combination of adrenaline and terror.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

“Get rid of it.” His lips barely moved. Fear gripped him. Fear like he had only known once before. He was the dutiful brother. Reliable. Dependable. The caretaker. The responsible one. Always responsible. He'd never been careless. Never.

That night in June flashed through his mind and mixed with one fall afternoon down by the river with Cecelia. A picnic meant to bring the spark back into their marriage. And yet all it had brought about was her death.

The night with this stranger blurred and frayed until the two merged into one and all he could think about was the fear.

“I—I beg your pardon.” Her voice was no more than a
whisper. But it held the weight of the ages. Betrayal, disbelief. He'd never meant to hurt her.

“Get rid of it.”

She trembled, her own nervousness eclipsed by an emotion he couldn't discern. She opened her mouth, and when she spoke her voice was no more substantial than a wisp of smoke. “You mean like an . . . an abortion?”

“That's exactly what I mean.” An invisible hand clutched and clawed at his throat until he could barely breathe. This couldn't be happening.

“Jacob Dwight Langston!”

His mother stormed into the room, but Jake couldn't think, couldn't move.

“I'm sorry, Miss . . . Miss . . .”

Evelyn looked to him.

“Bryn,” he croaked. Oh,
now
he could remember her name.

“What my son means to say, Miss Bryn—”

“Talbot,” she corrected, then shifted from one foot to the other and adjusted the strap of her enormous orange handbag.

“Miss Talbot,” his mother started again, but Bryn shook her head.

“I . . .” She faltered. “I just thought you'd want to know.”

She spun on one heel and headed for the door.

*   *   *

O
ut of all the possible scenarios she had expected, this was not one of them. Weren't cowboys supposed to be noble?

Bryn shook her head at herself and palmed her keys. What the heck did she know about cowboys anyway? Just that one sizzling night where she had done the unthinkable and hooked up with a man she didn't even know. A perfect stranger.

Not perfect at all.

She tripped down the steps and hurried toward her car. This stop had put her behind schedule. But she had thought he should know. Didn't every man deserve that much?

She just hadn't expected his reaction. Disbelief maybe. Denial, probably. Even anger.

Coldhearted bastard. Except he hadn't been so cold that night. He'd been more warm that night. Hot, burning up, dazzling.

As if.

“I should have never come here,” she muttered. But she hadn't expected his reaction.

Still there was something in his eyes when he said the words, that unthinkable act. Sadness, remorse and . . . guilt?

She pushed the thought away and slid behind the wheel of her car. What did he have to feel guilty about? They had entered that hotel room together.

“Looks like it's just the three of us again.” She pressed a hand to her rounded belly and glanced over at the urn sitting in the passenger's seat. “Just the three of us.” She cranked the car and put it into reverse. The best-laid plans.

“Miss Talbot?” Jake's mother came rushing out of the door and over to where Bryn had parked. At least she thought she was Jake's mother and the older lady his grandmother, though neither one looked particularly like the man. Neither had those fabulous green eyes. Or that dark hair that just begged a woman's fingers to—

Bryn rolled down her window. “Yes?”

“Won't you come back into the house?” Mrs. Langston stooped down so she could look into Bryn's car. Her gaze flickered to the passenger's seat, then back to Bryn. She'd be damned before she would explain herself.

“I don't think so.” She shot the woman her most polite Southern smile and turned to get a good look out the rear window as she backed up.

Jake's mother clutched her arm. “Please, Miss Talbot. Come in. Let me apologize for my son's behavior.”

She whipped around, but shook her head even as she made no move to leave. “There's no need.” He didn't want the baby they had created. So be it. She did. The child she carried was a new beginning. A fresh start. One she so desperately needed.

“I believe there is.”

Something in the woman's voice had Bryn putting the car into park, had her cutting off the engine.

“Just for a bit.” His mother smiled encouragingly, then moved back so Bryn could get out.

Her limbs were stiff and jerky as she opened the car door and stepped into the Texas heat once again. It was different from Georgia. Not as humid by far, but hot all the same.