Maureen McKade (8 page)

She tried to look away but found his brown eyes too alluring, his face too easy to admire. A small, crescent-shaped scar near the corner of his sensuous lips caught her attention. No whiskers grew in the slight mark, accentuating it further. He wasn’t classically handsome like David Preston, but Kit found his rugged looks compelling. Jake had matured, his features carved by the rivers of experience.

Kit curled her fingers into her palms to keep from touching his whiskered jaw or the tousled strand of hair across his forehead. How often had she dreamed of being this close to him? But in her dreams, it had been the dime novel hero, not the man in front of her, who she’d fantasized about. Could she risk learning if the hero existed only in her mind? His rejection would hurt her more than any mean-minded comment from the townsfolk.

Her hand trembling, she took the book from him and slipped it on the shelf in proper alphabetical order. “I don’t mind. Besides, you’re so good with Johnny, and I feel as if I should repay you for your kindness.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I like having Johnny around. He’s a good kid.” Indignation lent a wounded note to his voice.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I just wanted to help you as my thanks for taking Johnny under your wing. He misses having a father.”

“Where is his father?”

“Gone.”

“Oh.”

Knowing what he was thinking, Kit didn’t allow herself to set the record straight. It was better to have him believe she was as unvirtuous as everyone else thought, even if it lowered his opinion of her. Kit set the last book on the shelf.

“Looks like you’re ready for business.”

Jake straightened. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you?”

“The ranch keeps me too busy the way it is.”

“You know how to solve that problem,” he said. Kit tensed, and Jake held up his hand. “I know, you won’t sell no matter what.”

“That’s right,” she said stiffly.

He stood, then offered her his hand. After a moment, she curled her fingers around his and he pulled her to her feet. Kit straightened and found herself pressed against the length of his hard-muscled body. Heat suffused her cheeks, and she tried to move away, but Jake held her close.

His gaze roamed across her face and down her neck and settled on the pale skin where the top shirt button lay undone. After a moment, he lifted his eyes to hers. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you. You’re not that same little girl I used to know.” He traced her jaw with his forefinger, creating a shivery sensation that tripped her heart. “You’re beautiful, Kit.”

She swallowed. “Maggie was beautiful, Jake. I’m just plain old Kit.”

His rakish smile started a tingle in the pit of her stomach.
“There’s nothing plain about you,” he said in a husky voice.

She’d wanted Jake to notice her as a woman, but now that he did, Kit didn’t know what to say or do. Her pulse skipped through her veins, and she told herself to move away, to protect herself and her secrets. But her muscles refused to obey her commands.

The wild yearning in her blood was nothing like the innocent infatuation of a ten-year-old. Her body had matured, and along with it, her passion. She burned with a need to touch him, and for him to touch her.

Johnny mumbled in his sleep, jerking Kit back to reality. She looked away from Jake’s bold gaze and stepped back.

Jake raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t happen to be hungry, would you?”

Startled, she glanced at him.

“For lunch,” Jake clarified, and his twinkling eyes told Kit he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

She coughed to cover her embarrassment. “I don’t think so. It’s time we headed back to the ranch.”

“What’s another hour?” Jake pressed. “You have to eat sometime.”

Johnny, awakened by their voices, joined Jake. “Please, Ma.”

“It’s two against one. We win,” Jake proclaimed.

She couldn’t fight them both, and Kit surrendered to the inevitable. “Ethan came to town with us. Would you mind if he joined us?”

Jake shook his head. “The more the merrier.”

Johnny whooped and shrugged on his jacket.

Jake reached for his coat and pulled it on. Kit blinked, noticing the absence of his holster. “You’re not wearing your gun.”

Jake finished buttoning his brown wool jacket. “I noticed
I was the only one in town besides the police who was wearing one. I doubt there’s any need for it anymore.”

“What about your reputation? What if someone comes looking for you?”

“If I’m truly going to put my past behind me, I have to start sometime.” Jake settled his hat on his head. “I gotta admit, it feels strange without it, like I’m missing a part of me.”

Mixed emotions filled Kit. Although she was glad he was giving up his violent past, she was fearful he would be gunned down in cold blood by someone wanting to build his own reputation. Still, his decision to leave his gun behind told her he might be serious about staying in Chaney. The possibility that he’d be there permanently sent her heart into a stampede.

“I guess the so-called wild West has been tamed,” Kit said softly. “Maybe someday guns will never be needed by anyone.”

Jake shook his head. “There will always be violence. It’s just that it’ll take place in the cities instead of the frontier. You cram too many people in too small an area and tempers are bound to flare. It’s human nature.”

Kit cocked her head, once again realizing how little she knew him. She had thought of him as being only a man of action, doing good deeds and dealing out justice to lawbreakers. She was learning there were many more facets to the man.

Jake led them down the stairs to the boardwalk, which bustled with activity. People greeted Jake with a familiarity that told Kit he’d reacquainted himself with most everybody in town. As they passed one of the many saloons lining Main Street, the sound of men’s hoots and hollers and breaking furniture caught their attention.

A moment later, a man came flying out of the saloon’s batwing doors and landed in the mud on the street below.
Two burly men followed and pulled the fallen man to his feet. A few cowboys, beer in hand, stumbled out of the saloon to watch the fight.

Disgusted by the drunken brawling, Kit tried to maneuver around the onlookers.

“Show the breed he ain’t welcome here,” one of the men on the boardwalk called out.

Kit halted and peered through the growing crowd at the man being beaten. “Ethan!” she called, recognizing his dark hair and jacket.

The young man’s attention wavered from his attackers, and one of the men landed a solid blow to Ethan’s midsection.

“Stop hurting him,” Johnny screamed.

“Let him go,” Kit shouted, starting forward.

Jake grabbed them to stop them from jumping into the fray. “Stay put, both of you.”

Kit wrapped an arm around her son and bit her knuckles as Jake charged into the uneven fight.

He jerked the biggest attacker away from Ethan, twisted him around, and punched him in the jaw. The man shook his head like an angered bull and charged Jake. He caught Jake around the chest with his trunk-sized arms and began to squeeze. Jake butted the man beneath the chin. The man’s head snapped upward and he stumbled back. Taking advantage of his opponent’s weakness, Jake drove his fist into his face, felling him like an oak tree.

Ethan lay on the ground as the other man raised his boot to kick him in the ribs. Jake grabbed the bully’s leg and shoved him back. The man’s head hit the edge of the boardwalk with an audible thud, and he lay on the ground unconscious.

The crowd booed but began to disperse, shaking their heads.

Kit and Johnny hurried to Ethan’s side, and Kit knelt beside him. “Are you all right?”

Blood dripped from Ethan’s nose and from a corner of his mouth. He nodded and grimaced as Kit helped him to a sitting position.

Johnny placed his small hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Why’d those men hurt you?”

Jake hunkered down beside Kit. “Because they’re ignorant fools,” he stated forcefully. He laid a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Ethan sent Jake a guarded nod. “I guess I owe you one, Cordell.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I never could abide bullies,” Jake said, helping Ethan to his feet.

Kit glanced at Jake, startled to see the anger darkening his expression. “Thank you.”

Patrick crossed the street. “What’s goin’ on here?”

“You’ve got a couple of overnight guests,” Jake said. He pointed to the unconscious cowhands. “They assaulted Ethan.”

“Let ’em go,” Ethan muttered.

“No,” Kit argued. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Those men broke the law,” Jake added. “They should be tried in court.”

Ethan smiled humorlessly. “And the judge is going to take a half-breed’s word over two white men’s? Forget it.”

The young man stumbled away toward the wagon, and Johnny handed him his hat, which had fallen off during the skirmish.

One of the attackers stirred and struggled to his feet.

Kit glared at him, then looked at Patrick. “Can’t you arrest them anyhow? I’ll testify against them.”

Jake shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good, Kit. We need Ethan’s testimony and some collaborating witnesses
from the saloon. And I have a feeling no one’s going to testify on Ethan’s behalf.”

“Jake’s right, lass,” Patrick said apologetically. “I can’t be arrestin’ them if there’s no charges brought against them.”

“So they’re just going to get away with it?” Kit asked in disbelief.

“There’s nothing you can do, Kit,” Jake said gently. “Why don’t you take Ethan over to Dr. Lewis’s and have him check the boy out?”

Bitterness galled Kit. “He won’t go. I’ll take him back to the ranch and take care of him myself.”

“The squaw’s goin’ to take her breed home,” the burly attacker mocked, swiping the back of his hand across his bloodied lips.

Kit glared at him and her temper spiked. She strode up to him and planted her hands on her hips. “Ethan didn’t do anything to you. Go back to the hole you crawled out of, and take your friend with you.”

The man spat a gob of blood. “He’s a half-breed. We don’t need no other reason.”

Kit charged toward him. Jake caught her around the waist and pulled her back. “Take Ethan and Johnny home, Kit,” he said close to her ear. “There’s nothing else you can do here.”

Sickened, she closed her eyes for a moment and opened them to give Jake a pleading look. “Isn’t there something
you
can do?”

Anguish hollowed his features. “I can’t make things all right this time, Kit.”

Her throat aching with bitter disappointment, Kit spun away. She hurried after Ethan and Johnny, her tears nearly blinding her.

Chapter 6

J
ake watched her leave, his insides twisting with guilt.

“She’s only upset, Jake. She’ll get over it,” Patrick reassured him.

“She had a right to be upset.” He strode over to the bully struggling to his feet and grabbed him by the collar, jerking him upright. Jake planted his face a couple of inches from the man’s bloody features. “You ever call Kit a squaw again or beat up on that boy, and it won’t matter that the sergeant here can’t arrest you. After I’m done with you and your friend, you’ll wish he had thrown your carcasses in jail.”

Jake shoved him away, and the man’s partner caught him by the shoulders. Grumbling, they turned and shambled back into the saloon.

“You’ll be makin’ a few enemies,” Patrick warned.

“That’s nothing new,” Jake said grimly. “Why the hell does Kit stay around this town? If I were her, I’d be long gone.”

“Why’d
you
come back?”

Jake blinked. “I grew up here.”

“Aye, and so did Kit.” Patrick clapped him between the shoulder blades. “See you later.”

Jake adjusted his hat and stepped onto the boardwalk. He studied the mountains, how the sun slanted off their granite- and pine-covered slopes. A few clouds moved over the peaks, obscuring the highest ones and creating irregular shadows that slid across the rocky faces.

He breathed deeply of the spring air. Much as he’d despised the town when he was younger, Jake couldn’t think of any other place he could call home.

He returned to his office but found he couldn’t concentrate. Wandering over to the window that faced the front street, he noticed a buckboard laden with supplies leaving town. A boy sat between the two adults on the buckboard, and Jake recognized Kit’s blond hair. He’d let her down. Frustration stung him. He balled his fingers into tight fists at his sides.

His gaze followed them until they disappeared from view, and he turned back to his desk, once again amazed at the work Kit had done so efficiently. It explained why his former home looked so well kept. If there was a lazy bone in her body, he’d have to look pretty close to find it. And while the idea had merit, Jake knew he’d end up with a black eye if he tried.

He hadn’t imagined Kit would turn into such a determined woman. He admired her willingness to defend Ethan, knowing her stand would be an unpopular one. Flopping into his chair, Jake wished he could have had charges brought against the two troublemakers. Closing his eyes, he saw the hurt in Kit’s eyes when he’d told her he couldn’t make things right.

He slammed his fist on the chair arm. What did she expect? He wasn’t like the hero in the books. He was only a man who wanted what was rightfully his. He wanted his father’s former ranch.

Why hadn’t he gone over to see Mundy at the bank that morning?

The ranch was the reason he’d returned to Chaney,
and he meant to get it. Despite his growing fondness for Kit and her son, he couldn’t allow them to sidetrack his plans.

Rising from the chair, he grabbed his hat and headed out the door. A few minutes later, he stood in Alford Mundy’s office.

“Have a seat, Mr. Cordell,” Mundy said.

Jake lowered himself to the worn chair in front of the desk.

“Now, what can I help you with?” the banker asked, folding his pale hands together and resting them on the uncluttered desktop.

“When we talked at the saloon, you said that Kit Thornton had a loan out against the ranch,” Jake began.

“That’s correct.”

“How much is it?”

“That’s confidential.”

Jake perched on the edge of the chair. “I want to buy the papers.”

Mundy leaned back, steepling his fingers. “That’s highly irregular.”

“So was my father’s will. That ranch should’ve been mine.”

“Does Miss Thornton realize your intentions?”

Jake worried the brim of his hat. “She knows I want the ranch. I’ve offered to buy it.”

“And she’s refused to sell?”

Jake fought the impatience rising within him. “Would I be here if she’d accepted?”

Mundy shifted nervously. “I suppose not.” He stood and moved to a cabinet against the wall. He searched through the files a few moments, then withdrew one. Seating himself behind the desk, he handed the papers to Jake.

He perused the official document, noting Kit had borrowed $1,300 to purchase horses nearly two years ago. She’d used the ranch as collateral. He could imagine her
optimism, her hopes that she’d be able to build a thriving business. Her only problem was that she hadn’t taken into account the length of time it took to build up salable stock. It would take at least five years to see the returns in foals.

She’d paid back $800 and the balance was due in a few weeks.

“Has she talked to you about extending the due date?” Jake asked.

Mundy nodded. “I told her I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I run a business, Mr. Cordell, not a charity. Miss Thornton knew the risks when she signed the document.”

Kit had put her faith in those horses, and her gamble had failed. Jake understood her drive to succeed, but he seriously doubted she’d be able to meet her payment. That would leave him holding the deed. And it would all be legal.

“I want to buy her loan,” Jake stated.

“I assumed that would be your decision.” He took the papers back from Jake. “I want to remind you that this is not the way I usually run my business, but since you are Jonathan Cordell’s son, I believe there is sufficient reason to overlook the ethics.”

“As long as it’s legal, I don’t care,” Jake said.

“I assure you, it’s all perfectly legal.” Mundy pulled a sheet of parchment from his desk drawer.

Half an hour later, Jake exited the bank, the document in hand. The elation he should’ve felt didn’t surface, though. Instead, all he could imagine was the betrayal in Kit’s face when he took possession of the ranch.

Self-reproach soured his mood. He didn’t want to take away Kit’s dreams, but he had no choice. He would prove that he was a better man than his father.

He glanced at the saloon across the street. Maybe a
few shots of whiskey would silence his conscience so he could celebrate his victory.

The few days following the disastrous trip into town, Kit tried to work at her typewriter, but words seemed lost to her. The hero she’d written about no longer existed. It left her with a desolate feeling, not unlike the time after Maggie had died.

Fortunately, the horses gave her something to take her mind off Jake Cordell. Kit, Charlie, and Ethan kept busy training the horses and cleaning out the stalls. Ethan refused to take any time off to allow his injuries to heal, and did his chores as usual, albeit slower than normal.

As Kit made lunch, her son burst into the kitchen.

“It’s been four days since Mr. Cordell said he’d come back,” Johnny whined.

Kit wiped her hands on her apron and filled a bowl with soup for him. “Sit down and eat, before it gets cold.”

Johnny dropped into a chair but didn’t begin eating. “He won’t ever come again, will he?”

Kit placed slices of bread and jam on the table and joined her sulking son. “I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe things got busy at his office.”

Johnny swung his feet back and forth and picked up his spoon. “Maybe he doesn’t like me anymore.”

“I doubt that.” Kit kept her voice light. “What about if I give you your next riding lesson?”

Johnny shrugged. “It won’t be the same.”

Kit leaned forward, placing her hand on his arm. “We can’t count on Mr. Cordell, Johnny. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

“But he promised!”

He shoved a spoonful of soup in his mouth, and propped his chin in his other hand.

Kit’s appetite fled.

Even though Jake had saved Ethan from a vicious beating, she’d repaid him by releasing her wrath on him. She realized now that it hadn’t been his fault Ethan didn’t want to press charges. But she’d unfairly expected her hero to make things right, as he’d done when they were children.

Kit studied her son’s—Jake’s son’s—glum expression. If she was why Jake hadn’t come back for Johnny’s next lesson, she had to apologize. And although her mind told her it would be better to keep them apart, her heart couldn’t abide the disillusionment in Johnny’s eyes.

“As soon as we finish eating, I’ll help you saddle Treasure and you can ride her a little in the corral. Then when Jake comes, you can tell him you got to practice,” Kit said, injecting enthusiasm into her voice.

Johnny’s long face brightened. “Okay.”

After the dishes were done, they went out to saddle Treasure. Kit helped Johnny onto the horse’s back and tried to imitate Jake’s steadfast calm, but her instinct to protect her son wouldn’t allow her to relax. Afraid he’d fall from Treasure’s back, Kit refused to release the bridle despite Johnny’s pleadings.

Half an hour later, she helped Johnny down.

“Mr. Cordell woulda let me ride by myself,” he complained.

“Probably, but I’m not Mr. Cordell,” Kit said.

Grumbling, Johnny led Treasure back to the barn.

Kit wiped her sweat-dotted forehead with a shaky hand and removed her spectacles to wipe them with her blouse. She replaced her glasses and folded her arms across her chest. Looking in the direction of Chaney, she spoke aloud. “If you think you’re going to get out of this, Jake Cordell, you’re sadly mistaken.”

It was late afternoon when Kit rode into town.

She hadn’t told Johnny the real reason for the unscheduled
trip to Chaney. She didn’t want him to get his hopes up only to have them dashed. With any luck she’d be home before Johnny’s bedtime. But if she wasn’t, she knew Charlie and Ethan would take care of him.

She directed her horse to Freda’s and dismounted.

Freda opened the door as Kit approached and motioned her into the house. “Heard about Jake, did you?”

Puzzled, Kit stopped in the foyer. “What about him?”

“For two days he has been in that saloon,” Freda replied disgustedly. “Tried to get him out, Patrick did, but Jake would not leave. Now that you are here, he will listen to you.”

Kit absorbed the shocking news. “Why do you think I can get him out?”

Freda narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. Despite her diminutive stature, she appeared as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar. “Respects and likes you, he does.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“He bothers me with questions about you and Johnny.”

Kit stiffened. “What kind of questions?”

Freda shrugged. “Why you hide yourself with men’s clothing; why you never married Johnny’s father—”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I do not know.” She narrowed her perceptive gaze. “What I think, I do not tell him.”

“And what do you think?”

“ Johnny is his son.”

Kit’s composure slipped. “Why would you think that?”

“A feeling.” Her voice softened. “I will keep your secret.”

Kit’s heart thumped against her breast. First Charlie, now Freda had guessed the truth. She couldn’t deny it and lie to her friend. “I promise to tell you the whole
story sometime, but now I should go see if I can talk some sense into Jake.” She sighed. “I had hoped the incident when he first arrived in Chaney was the exception. It’s beginning to look like it might be the rule.”

“This I do not tell you so you will feel sorry for me, but because it is something you should know,” Freda began in a low voice. “My Hans, he was a good man, unless he drank; then he would become mean. Toward the end, he was drunk more than he was not. Coming back from the saloon one night, he was so drunk he fell off his horse and broke his neck. That is how my Hans died.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, new strength in their depths. “So you get Jake before he becomes like my Hans.”

Empathy filled Kit, and she squeezed Freda’s hand. “I’ll try, but Jake may not want to listen.”

Freda studied Kit a moment. “Maybe if you tell him of his son.”

Kit shook her head. “No! I won’t risk losing Johnny. He’s all I have.”

Stifling silence cast a pall over the parlor. “Which saloon is he at?” Kit asked.

“The Red Bird.”

Kit nodded. “Hopefully, I’ll be back soon. With Jake.”

Freda followed Kit to the front door, then stopped her before she left. “Turn out, it will. You will see.”

Kit tried to smile, but failed. Hunching her shoulders under her coat, she trudged across the rutted street. She paused outside the Red Bird’s closed door as uneasy doubts pursued her. It wasn’t too late. She could still turn around and go back to the ranch. Then the image of Jake all alone assailed her. Had her novels contributed to his drinking? Did she owe him for turning his life into something like a P.T. Barnum sideshow?

Forcing aside her reluctance and swallowing her anxiety,
she entered the salon. Ribbons of smoke curled upward from kerosene lamps, cigars, and cigarettes, and her nostrils twitched from the thick odor. Bluish-gray clouds drifted close to the lights to form wispy shadows, adding to the oppressive atmosphere of the low-ceilinged room. A few poker games were in progress, and many of the players glanced up at Kit curiously.

Where was Jake?

The knights of the green tables studied Jake Cordell, noting his tied-down holster and the danger in his hawk eyes. Those men who gambled their lives away knew that even their biggest game could never match the stakes Cordell played for. He played the odds with death every day, betting his own life against a pot filled with murderers and all those opposed to justice
.

Kit shook aside her thoughts. She finally spotted Jake sitting in a corner, his back to the wall, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table. A scantily clad saloon gal was perched on Jake’s lap, one arm draped around his neck. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled like a lovesick schoolgirl.

Jealous despair struck Kit like a lightning bolt, but she squared her shoulders and approached them. “Hello, Jake,” she greeted him in a husky voice.

The painted woman stared at Kit as if she had two heads, and Kit met her gaze without flinching.

“Miss Thornton, nice of you to join us,” Jake slurred. “Let me introduce you to Louise.”