Montana Rose (19 page)
Authors: Deann Smallwood
Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Western, #Historical Romance, #Westerns
Chapter 39
Rose all but fell out of the wagon when it came to a jerking stop a few feet from Jesse. She ducked her head, praying he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. Hopefully, she was downwind from him.
But her luck had run out. Her feet had no sooner touched the ground than Jesse grabbed her arm and started to pull her to him. Wrinkling up his face, he held her at arm’s length and ran his eyes from the hem of her dress to the smears across her bosom. There was even a streak of black mud across one cheek.
“Whew.” His breath came out in a whoosh. “Rose Bush, you are one stinking sight.”
“Couldn’t keep her outta the pig pen,” Elmer said. “She was right taken with them pigs. Gotta head back, pert near feedin’ time. I’ll be bringing the p—”
“Picnic.” Rose threw out the word, cutting him off. “You were about to say picnic.” Could it get any worse? Now all that she needed was for Elmer to blurt out the real reason for this charade.
“Huh?” He squinted at her then shook his head. Rose Bush was one confounding woman. Good thing she wasn’t husband hunting after all.
He snapped the reins, nodded to Rose, still in Jesse’s outstretched arms, and said, as the wagon lumbered out of the yard, “Happy Birthday, Rivers. See you tomorrow, Miss Rose.”
“Like hell you will,” Jesse muttered, then focused his eyes on the woman standing so forlornly in front of him.
“What’s he mean, Happy Birthday? And what’s this about a picnic?” he growled.
“How would I know?” Rose snapped, trying to break his hold.
“There will be no picnic tomorrow. Elmer Wattle isn’t worth your dainty”—he peered down at her boots, covered with excrement—“I was going to say foot, but changed my mind. He’s worth every bit what you have on your boots, your dress, your face, and probably even in your hair. You need a bath, lady.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Rivers. I would never have guessed.”
“Tory, bring out a couple towels, soap, shampoo, and a blanket. Our pig farmer here is too smelly to enter the house.” He dropped her arms. “I’ll go around the shed and bring over the tub. You can bathe out here. Good thing the sun’s out.”
Rose started to protest only to be cut off by a curt order from Jesse, a smile playing around his lips.
“Don’t you run off, Rose. I’ve got some things I want to say to you.” He paused, smiling into her eyes. “You really are a stinking mess, my love.” Then, holding his breath, he leaned forward to search for a clean spot on her forehead. He placed a tender kiss there. “I’ll hurry,” he said, hating to leave her. She was even more special now that he’d admitted his love.
Rose couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to.
My love
. The words sang in her heart. He’d called her ‘
my love
’ and, moreover, he’d kissed her. The plan had worked.
Thank you, Elmer Wattle, for making Jesse jealous. She
started to hug herself, saw her hands, and thought better of it.
Tory ran to the house and Jesse, the only thought in his mind the woman waiting, tore around the side of the shed.
He was barely out of sight when Rose heard a loud shout. On the wings of the shout drifted an eye-watering odor.
“What the . . .? Aaugh . . . Get out of here, go on, get,” Jesse shouted. “Damn and double damn!” Angry words and ear-splitting expletives smoked the air.
“Jesse,” Rose called. “What is it?” Her feet couldn’t move fast enough as fear gripped her.
Jesse was in trouble.
“Rose, don’t come around the corner of the shed. Stay away,” Jesse barked.
“You need help.”
“No, I don’t. What’s done is done. Can’t you smell it? Now stay there. The last thing we need is skunk spray mixed with pig manure.”
“Skunk spray?” Rose poked her head around the corner of the shed.
There stood Jesse, an arm over his face, fingers pinching his nose. Across from him, tail still raised, stood a very angry skunk. Front legs planted, his black eyes were daring the reeking man to even twitch. Any excuse would do and he’d flip around, lift his tail, and shower Jesse with more of the noxious spray.
“Don’t move,” Jesse said from between clenched teeth.
“Did-Did he spray you?” Rose asked.
“Can’t you smell it? Hell yes, he sprayed me. Thankfully, my pants legs caught most of it.”
The skunk stood its ground, raking them with his eyes. The minutes passed in a silence so great they could hear the insects buzzing. Finally, the animal dismissed the two humans as unworthy of further attention and he sauntered into the tall grass and out of sight.
Jesse relaxed, and Rose came running to him.
“You scared me, Jesse Rivers. I thought you’d been attacked.”
“Well,” he said with a grin, “I was.”
“You make my eyes water,” Rose said, trying to hide her smile.
“Don’t want to hurt your feelings, Rose, but you sure don’t smell like your namesake, either.” Jesse pulled her into his arms and, laying a finger under her chin, raised her face to his.
“Rose, I have something to say.”
“Uh, could it wait until we
—
”
“No, it can’t,” he interrupted forcefully. “I have to say it while I have the courage.” He cleared his throat. “I swore I’d never love a woman.”
“I thought as much,” she said forlornly.
“Then you came charging into my life.”
Rose opened her mouth.
Hush.” He placed a finger across her lips, silencing her. “I’ve got to get this out, and I don’t want interruptions.”
Rose blinked back her tears. “I want to hear what you have to say, but I already know what it is.”
“You do?” he asked, surprised.
“Yes. You are trying to say as kindly as possible you will never care for me.” Rose blinked back the tears. “It’s okay, Jesse. That’s why I need to leave and that’s why . . .”
“Why you decided to entice Elmer Wattle,” he finished, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. “I knew you were desperate for your own ranch, but I didn’t think for one minute you’d settle for a . . .”
“Pig farmer?”
“Well, yes. We’ll discuss that later. Right now, I have more important things on my mind.” He took a breath and started again. “I told myself I couldn’t love a woman because . . .” He paused, gaining courage to go on. “Because I was worried I’d be like my father. I’ve been afraid of my temper. Afraid I couldn’t control my anger. It would kill me to strike a person I loved.”
“But you wouldn’t,” Rose interrupted. “You are nothing like what I understand your father was.”
“No, I’m not, but I didn’t realize that until today. Until”—he took her face between his large hands—“until I realized I could lose you. I love you, Rose. I love you with every fiber of my being. With every breath I take. I can’t live without you. I need you in my life, here beside me, milking your cow, gathering your eggs, baking in your kitchen.”
He took his thumb and wiped the trail of tears now freely running through the dirt on her face.
“I can’t promise you we won’t fight. We will. We’re both independent, strong-willed people. But I can promise I’ll never hurt you. And I can promise I’ll cherish you until the day I die.” He held his breath, his gaze searching her face.
“Jesse, my sweet Jesse. I’ve loved you forever. I didn’t want to. I’ve been afraid to hope. You can be pig-headed and stubborn. Oh my.” She winced. “Did I say pig?”
“You did, right after you said you loved me,” he said in a rough voice.
“Well, I do. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you. It was breaking my heart.” She ran a grimy hand down his jaw, her eyes tender, filled with radiant love.
“Then will you marry me? I can’t give you a whole ranch, but I can give you half of my share.”
“Heck,” a voice called from behind them. “She can have half of my share, too,” Tory said, grinning.
“All I want is you.” She laid her head against Jesse’s shoulder, snuggling into his arms, knowing she’d come home. His gentle strength cradling her.
“No pig farm or farmer?” Jesse asked.
“No pig farm or farmer. However, you will be getting two pigs tomorrow
.
For your birthday.” She giggled.
Jesse gave her a perplexed look.
“Well, I had to have some reason for luring the poor man into spending time with me.”
“Why on earth would you want to do that?”
“Because, I thought if you saw me with Elmer Wattle you might be jealous.” Rose gave him an imploring look.
“You mean you went with that
-
that man, gave him some of
my
chocolate cake, then came home smelling like a pig wallow, just to make me jealous?”
She nodded. “It was my last hope. Worked, didn’t it?”
“Rose, I ought to turn you over my knee.”
“You can’t. Your knee smells worse than my dress. Neither one of us can go in the house until Tory pours buckets of water over us.”
“Then there’s only one thing I can do.”
“Yes?”
Jesse’s mouth found hers and he rained sweet kisses over it and her waiting face. In-between each kiss, he whispered tenderly, “Love you, love you, and love you.”
“Hey, you two,” Tory called. “The water’s waiting. And”—he sniffed—“plenty of soap. It’ll take some doing, but if you get to smelling better, I’ll allow you in the house. You can sit on the sofa, hold hands, cuddle, and say all those mushy words to each other you want to. Heck, I’ll even bring you cookies.”
And that’s just what they did, far into the night.
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