Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (67 page)

“Goddamn it, Jenna.” Clint tucked her tighter against him. “You are in no shape to ride.”

She could tell he was working up to yelling at her again so she headed him off.

“Fine. Then get my pillow and let me ride in front of you.”

“What?”

“I used a pillow to get up here. I can use one to get back.”

“
A pillow
?”

“The saddle hurt, so I used a pillow,” she muttered into his shoulder.

The look he sent her questioned her sanity.

“It worked fine until the pillow slipped. Bucky didn’t like that—”

Around her there were the stifled sounds of laughter. Against her, Clint’s muscles tightened to hard ridges of disbelief.

“You rode one of my testiest cow ponies on a pillow?”

“Yes.”

“And he waited to balk until you got here?”

“Yes.”

He dropped his forehead against hers. “Son of a bitch, somebody upstairs must hate me.”

“Maybe the good Lord wanted to make sure you’d be able to find me when I got bucked off.”

In a resigned tone he said, “That must be it.”

He touched her forehead, her cheek, her lip, all the places she knew she had marks and then pulled her hard against him, asking in a weary voice, “What am I going to do with you Jenna McKinnely?”

She only had one answer for him.

“You could try loving me.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

You could try loving me.

Clint leaned his shoulder against the door, popped the bottle in Bri’s mouth and watched the soft glow of moonlight play over Jenna’s gentle face as she slept.

How could she not know he loved her? Since the day he’d first seen her, he’d been a goner. He’d fought it, tried to rise above his selfish need, but there hadn’t been any true hope that he’d escape. He was too far from a saint, and she was just too much temptation with her shy smile, sweet softness, and hot, giving nature. Son of a bitch, he loved her.

As he watched, she turned, reaching out to his side of the bed before frowning and rolling back. He’d have to take her back to see Doc tomorrow. That’d require some sort of clever excuse as Jenna would balk at another examination, but damn it, she worried him. She’d been listless ever since that night. Not eating well, not smiling, and generally withdrawn. Part of it was her wounds, any movement at all the first day was agony, but even when that let up, her listlessness didn’t. Son of a bitch, he wasn’t going to lose her.

The baby kicked her feet and turned away from the bottle.

“What’s the matter, Button? Suck too much wind?” he whispered, taking the bottle from her mouth. She gave him one milky little smile, no doubt delighted with her ability to disturb the adult world, and then proceeded to pout.

“Oh no, you don’t. No waking up Mommy.”

He shifted her to his shoulder. She’d doubled in size since the first time he’d seen her, but she was still the tiniest bit of humanity, her back barely stretching his palm and for all her spirit, felt as fragile as the china tea cups Dorothy pulled out on special occasions. With the tip of one finger, he rubbed her back, feeling the delicate ladder of her baby spine. And frowned. Maybe he’d have Doc look at her again tomorrow, too. He didn’t care what the women said about her being fine. She needed more meat on her bones.

He sighed. Jenna would have something to say about that, no doubt. She was always riding his case about worrying too much, but he’d gone from nothing to everything and those kinds of changes had a man thinking in terms of the cost of losing. Especially with the scare Jenna and Red had just given him. He frowned as Jenna turned and the blanket fell off her shoulder revealing the head to toe nightgown she’d taken to wearing.

He sighed and kissed the top of Bri’s head. Jenna’s taking to wearing smothering nightclothes was his fault, too. Every time he’d seen her cuts and bruises over the last four days, he’d lost his temper. He couldn’t help it. It scared the shit out of him that that sick son of a bitch had gotten his hands on Jenna. And it would take at least five lifetimes to forget the sight of her facing down the barrel of a gun, uncaring of her own safety as she defended her son.

“Your mother has a bit of a wildcat in her, Button,” he whispered, a smile working past his worry. Bri bobbed her head on his shoulder, belched, and tangled her fist in his hair. “If you’re lucky, some of it will wear off on you.”

“I don’t think that will be a concern,” Red said, touching his sister’s cheek. “She has quite a temper.”

Clint turned, not surprised to find the boy up, or Danny by his side. The two had taken to each other and patrolled the halls nightly.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Red shook his head, his long braids swinging with the motion.

“Killing a man is hard, even if he deserved it.”

“It is already getting easier.”

“Then why are you up?”

Red’s gaze skirted his to touch on Jenna as she lay on the bed. He tickled Bri’s cheek with one hand while the other clenched in Danny’s rough fur. A sure sign he was working up to something big. Clint rubbed Bri’s back, waiting him out. Finally, the boy raised his face, his jaw clinched and his shoulders set for battle.

“She is not happy.”

So he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the change in Jenna.

“She had a tough time of it out there.”

The boy’s mouth set in the same determined line as his jaw.

“I do not want to lose another mother.”

“Jenna’s not going anywhere.”

The boy’s expression went from stubborn to mutinous.

“She is an easy person to love.”

That was the truth. Falling in love with Jenna was as easy and as natural as breathing.

“I know.”

“Then why doesn’t she know you love her?”

“Because I haven’t told her.”

The look of disgust the boy gave him said more than words. Red reached for Bri.

“I will take Hope on the Mist, and you will tell her.”

Bri went to him willingly, Clint untangled her fist from his hair while she dangled sleepily between them.

“I was planning on telling her at the social.” He’d come up with the plan after Mara had let slip what that bitch Shirley had said about his reasons for marrying Jenna. Saturday’s social was going to be a territory wide party, celebrating his marriage to Jenna, and right in the middle of it he was going to work up the courage to get down on one knee before God and the territory and ask Jenna to marry him again. It was going to be the granddaddy all of romantic gestures. It would embarrass the hell out of him, but he’d do it for Jenna. Dorothy and Elizabeth were handling the arrangements. Lorie and Patricia were helping. After the social, there wouldn’t be any doubt in anyone’s mind that Clint McKinnely was head over heels in love with his wife, and he’d married her for love and nothing else.

“Three days is too long to wait,” Red countered, stubbornly clinging to his point.

Jenna moaned. Clint glanced over. She was trying to turn onto her back. One hand reached for him. Her fingers splayed over the empty side of the bed. Her fingers closed, her arm relaxed, and that sad resigned expression he’d come to hate took up residence on her face.

He sighed and shook his head. The kid was right. He’d have the party, and he’d make Jenna a legend with how she’d brought Clint McKinnely to his knees, but he wouldn’t make her wait any longer for that last piece she needed from him.

“I suppose it is.” He cupped Red’s shoulder and kissed Bri’s head. “Do you think you and Bri might want to spend a couple days visiting with Uncle Asa and Aunt Elizabeth?”

“You will tell her?”

It was a measure of how much the boy loved Jenna that he even hesitated, seeing as being with Asa meant being with his horse.

“Yes.”

The boy’s smile flashed brighter than sunshine off a mirror.

“We will leave in the morning.”

“Take Jackson with you.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I
know you can
,” Clint handed Red the bottle and the burping rag, “but a baby limits a man’s abilities to react, and it’s better not to take chances.”

He expected the boy to argue, but instead he nodded. His eyes taking on that too old look.

“I will not take chances. You do not have need to worry.”

“I’m not worried, son, just naturally cautious.”

Before Red could cite stories to the contrary, Clint turned him by the shoulders and pointed him down the hall.

“If you want me to be making peace with your mother, I suggest you give me space to do it in.”

In two seconds, he had all the space he needed.

* * * * *

Clint shucked his denims and sat on the side of the bed, turning sideways as he carefully eased the thick rope of Jenna’s braid from behind her. He loved the way she looked bathed in moonlight. Her skin taking on the color of cream and roses. Her hair shining with an ethereal light. She looked like one of those angels from the paintings. Plump, sweet, and as tempting as sin itself.

He tugged the tie from her braid and worked the silken strands free. He arranged them around her face, smiling as the waves fell where they would despite his plans. He leaned over, bracing his hands on either side of her torso. He brushed her ear with his lips, his smile broadening as she shivered in her sleep and goose bumps sprang up on the one arm he could see.

“Wake up, Sunshine.”

She stirred. “Clint?”

He braced his palm on her spine before she could roll back and hurt herself.

“Easy, baby.”

Her right eye cracked open and she nuzzled into his thigh. Lord help him, he even loved the way she came awake in stages like a plump, sleepy little kitten, cuddling up to the warmth of his body.

“What’s wrong?” She cupped his knee and stroked her thumb over the ridge of bone.

“Nothing.”

He hitched his hip higher on the bed, urging her closer until her cheek rested high on his thigh and the soft silk of her hair fell across his groin.

“It’s still night,” she yawned. “Did Bri wake up?”

“Yes. Red has her.”

“He couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“But he’s okay?”

“Yes.” Her other eye cracked open.

“So there’s no need for me to be up?”

He took a handful of her hair in his hand and rubbed it over his aching cock simply because it felt so damned good.

“There’s a need.”

“You want to make love?”