Soul Food (5 page)

“Bible study has been on Tuesday nights for just ever,” she hoped against hope. She’d be on the wagon train then.

“Yep, that it has.” Ma busied herself opening the jars of jam even as her gaze never left Kelley. “But until Pastor fully gets his strength back, it seems easier on him to hold a short session right after church. Things are sure to be back to normal soon.”

But not in time for me to escape this round, Kelly sniffed silently. Ma was a powerful force, especially with her unblinking eyes. “Oh, Ma. Of course I’ll go. I’ll pull an all-nighter if I need to get everything done.”

“Go where? And get what done? I’ll help if I can.” Jason offered, his unexpected voice sending Kelley’s heartbeats skittering hard around her ribs. He strode into the kitchen on quiet boot heels that should have clomped. Kelley had long noticed the same with her brothers and all the ranch hands. Seemed anybody who worked with animals had learned quiet approaches. She hadn’t known he was coming, yet she was more than glad, make that thrilled, to see him here.

“Church,” Ma said promptly, giving Jason the same stare. “You goin’ with us this time around, young fella?”

From Jason’s blush, Kelley reckoned he wasn’t much of a church-goer. Ma never judged her employees, or anybody for that matter, but right now her eyes bored deep into Kelley’s soul.

Jason smiled at her, then looked at Ma straight on. “I will be taking you up on your invitation this Sunday, ma’am. I’ve visited temples and shrines and cathedrals all over the world. Might as well see how it goes down in Colorado.”

She watched Ma place a big hand on Jason’s shoulder. Even with her own stagnate faith, Kelley sensed curiosity rather than reverence in his tone, and disquiet rumbled in her tummy. She might be down on God, but Jason’s offhandedness somehow saddened her.

Ma’s smile was bright and genuine, though. Kelley knew the difference, and if Ma was okay, she would be, too. “Why, that’s a mighty fine thing, young man. You’ll find out God goes down mighty easy. Be ready at eight. And you can go with Kelley to Bible study and coffee hour and meet some more of the young folks around here. Oh and thanks.”

Jason’s eyebrows rose now. “Thanks?”

“Thanks for picking up my girl today. It’s been quite a while since she’s been on hand at Hearts Crossing, and I can’t begin to say how much I’ve missed her. And we’ll be expecting you for supper tonight.”

Ma’s voice almost shook as she surged out of the kitchen, leaving Kelley alone with the man she most wanted to be alone with, whatever questions grumbled in her gut.

“And what kind of help do you need, Miz Kelley?” Jason drawled cowboy style as he leaned against the butcher block, at ease, every inch a cowboy even without his hat. Even with Uzbekistan in the mix. Magnificent, and she trembled to her toes.

“Well, Mr. Easterday, I’ve got some baking to do. And a trial run at a blueberry compote Ma recommends.”

“I apply as your assistant, then. My own mother taught me to do more than use a microwave. Just ask the guys in the bunkhouse. My cooking rocks, if I say so myself.” He swooped gallantly like he’d done before at the restaurant. “I’m offering my services whatever might be required.”

For a flash, Kelley envisioned him at her side, helping her get the meals on the wagon train trip, and her heart beat hard. As he rose again, his gaze landed on Ma’s cookbook, and he stopped, stunned. “Whoa.”

Her breathing was too fast, but curiosity overcame her. “Whoa what? I’ve been wondering about the author’s name myself.”“

Jason grinned, shaking his head.”It’s gotta be karma or something.
Organic Cooking.
That’s one of my mother’s early cookbooks. I mean, one she wrote.

“Yes, that’s my mama. How I got the name Jason, I’ll never know. I know my dad teased me about Juggernaut once.” He shook his head with an eye roll.

Kelley laughed as she loaded the pot with chopped eggplant and couldn’t resist his teasing eyes. “What about Easterday?”

“Just pulled out of a hat.”

“It’s one of us Christians’ most holy days,” she mused, wondering at the beauty of such a name. No matter her doubts in God, she had none about His Son, her Savior. “They picked well.”

“I’m glad for your approval.” Jason gave her a smart salute.

“Well, I don’t think it’s my approval you need.”

“You might be wrong there.” His eyes turned from teasing to lustrous somehow, as though he could see things about her she couldn’t. Unable to help herself, she laid her hand on the cheek where the butterfly kiss had been. For an unseemly second, she wanted more.

“Thanks for the butterfly kiss,” she said.

He guffawed, but his smile was tender. “Well, it seemed appropriate. Considering my boss is your very
big
big brother.”

The air in the kitchen turned tense with a longing Kelley couldn’t explain. Of course she and Ned had never been intimate in inappropriate ways, but she couldn’t deny missing the embrace of strong masculine arms and the sweet taste of desire on a man’s mouth. Jason stepped close enough to put his own fingers where his butterfly kiss had been, and she couldn’t look away. Maybe he would kiss her now. For real. But when she stepped closer as well and raised her chin, he pulled back a bit and lowered his hand. Lowered his lids.

“I’m sure I remember Mom teaching me that compote,” he said slow, casual. Like he might be stopping his voice from shaking. “I can handle if it you want.”

“For thirty people?” Kelley asked lightly to try to get control back into the moment, into herself.

His face flushed a handsome burgundy over his tanned cheekbones. “Well, sometimes we stayed in communes. Let me just say I’ll do whatever milady needs.” His lips moved deliciously around the last three words, and her heart started a freefall at the sound.

****

Somewhere inside the house a clock chimed eleven. Leaning against the log bench on the porch, Kelley next to him, Jason couldn’t think of one single thing to make the moment more complete.

A dollop of butter, a tad of molasses and a rustle of cinnamon—Kelley’s recipe for her personal creation graham flatbread crackers for S’mores—sounded like one of Snowy’s own. His mother and Kelley would get along well together. In the kitchen. But that was it. Snowy’s free-love-dove lifestyle coupled with her dabbling in the latest oddball belief she’d discovered on her rambles would never mesh with the ideals of Hearts Crossing.

So why did he feel so suddenly at home?

While the flatbread cooled, Bryce snored at their feet on the sprawling porch, and horses in their outdoor stalls whickered with contentment against the summer night. The shadows of the covered wagons, spruced up for Monday, flickered in the night wind like ghosts of the past. Against a longing that almost hurt, Jason tightened his fingers so he didn’t reach for Kelley’s hand.

“Thanks for your help,” she said, eyes closed. “I mean it. I’d have been up until dawn without you.”

Her gratitude pleased him. “I doubt that. You are a professional, after all.”

Her mouth turned up in a beautiful smile, but her lids stayed tight. “I’m sorry, too, you know. For falling asleep on you on the way home.”

“Aw, shucks.” He tried the cowboy drawl again; it had made her smile before, and she did so again. “No offense taken and no apology accepted. I’ve long been told a woman falling asleep in your presence means she’s comfortable around you.”

In the flicker of porch light, her cheeks flushed, and he ached to place a kiss on them. A real kiss this time, not something from a children’s book. “Well, you got that right, cowboy.”

He held back his longing by deep breathing and a change in subject. “I enjoyed hanging with your family tonight. They’re a great bunch of people. Mostly I work with Hoop and Pike, so I liked it. Everyone together.” For a flash, he realized Hearts Crossing was starting to fit him like a warm mitten on a cold hand.

“Then you should come to Sunday dinner after church.”

For some reason, panic roiled. The family’s Sunday dinner after joining her for services might mean something to somebody, even himself. Especially if they offered up another prayer like the one at supper. Not just thanking God for the food…his own family at mealtimes acknowledged the goodness of some Providence somewhere out there for earthly delights He/She/It bestowed, but Hooper had asked everyone to share a special thank-you for one special thing the day had brought. Of course Jason had wanted to say Kelley. Had felt her eyes on his face.

But instead, he said he was grateful for the sun on his back.

What a sap.

“So how about it? Dinner?” she asked, eyes opened now, wide and inviting.

“Sure.” Why deprive himself of something wonderful? “I can help you in the kitchen if you want.”

She chewed her delectable lip as if considering his offer. Then her eyes brightened with mischief. “I think you earned your keep tonight, but while we’re on the wagon train, that’s another matter.”

It was a clear invitation to join her at her chuck wagon. He’d have to think about that. Three days at her side might make him feel things better left unfelt. A change of subject was definitely in order. “I’m glad Hoop said I could tag along.”

“Of course. What’s one more mouth to feed? Because you’ll definitely rustle up an appetite. Some of the tourists have never been in the outdoors before. There’s a bit of babysitting involved sometimes. And a lot of handholding.”

“Consider it done.” Jason warmed at the thought, not merely of the wagon train thudding along the road, but of riding close to Kelley. But that was a day away. Something else big loomed first. “What do I wear to church?”

She looked him up and down, and heat trilled through his veins. “You sound like a girl.” She winked. “But what you’re wearing now is fine. Pastor Hale is reverent but casual.”

Jason considered his clean jeans, dust-free boots, long-sleeved blue plaid shirt.

“Maybe add a bolo,” she said. “Some folks will dress up, like Ma. Others ride in direct from their chores.”

“You?” He couldn’t help it. What would he feel, seeing her in a dress?

“Don’t know.” She shrugged against him. “It’ll depend how I feel in the morning.” Then she downright snuggled. “Or if I go with Chelsea. Her truck cab is like a wastebasket on wheels, and I might need a hazmat suit.”

He chuckled, but hesitated, too. Going to church with a woman wasn’t exactly a date, and it had been her mother’s idea to begin with. “Uh, maybe we could ride together?”

“Sounds all right to me.” She lowered her lashes in a way that had him think he was almost in the date category. “My family likes you, Jason. Seems like you’ve been here longer than a few months.”

“Aw, shucks.” He stayed light, but the words meant something.

“But I don’t know much about your family.” She sat up now, fully interested, and cleared her throat. “Other than the cookbooks and translating and you lived in…communes.”

“Yep.” He knew well the flash of discomfort reddened his skin, but he kept on. “I have to admit I was raised in a very unconventional way. I almost don’t like mentioning it to you, you know, with your traditional upbringing.”

At his quick glance, she laughed out loud. “Don’t you believe it. My mother is the last of the Martins who built the Hearts Crossing ranch. Even though she was head over heels, she wouldn’t marry my father unless he took her last name.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Not quite in the same ballpark as a commune but definitely eccentric.

“Nope. She convinced him right away. Said women have been doing it for centuries. Why not a man?”

“That’s awesome. And something Snowy and September would really get.”

“That’s how Kenn got his name. Kennedy. Pa’s maiden name.”

Jason laughed outright again, feeling more at home than ever. Right away he shook off the sensation. He was ever a man with places to go and people to meet. Despite the wide skies of Colorado, he wasn’t the type to stick around for long. Fall round-up to be sure, but Uzbekistan was high on a long list.

“You guys are something. But I can top it.” His wacky confession continued. “I’ve got identical twin sisters who speak and write in their own private language.”

“Whoa.” Kelley’s shoulders straightened in surprise. “That kind of does beat out Pa’s maiden name. Honest?”

Jason didn’t really feel like telling her the rest; they were half sisters from one of the times his dad had felt the urge to “explore,” and he’d only met them through e-mails. Yet he must. If Kelley were ever to truly mean anything to him, and he to her, no holds barred.

“Actually, my parents never married,” he admitted. “The twins are my half-sisters. There were times my father was with other women. He’s always headed home to Snowy, though, whether that’s to his credit or not. Or hers.” He cleared his throat while he waited to test her reaction. “But those girls live in Sweden. We send e-mails from time to time. They are fluent in English as well as Swedish. And ‘Twin.’” He couldn’t help the grin as the silly word came forth.

Kelley’s eyebrows rose. “That’s quite a story, Jason. Or should I call you Juggernaut?”

They burst into laughter at the same time, and the unity, the harmony, sounded wonderful. However, he was a man with a mission, a man with wanderlust. Even if he never made it to Uzbekistan, there were always fires burning somewhere else for him throughout the West, another round-up. Another herd needing tests. Another regional office to set up for BeauVine.

Despite his thought of a few moments ago, Kelley could never truly mean anything permanent to him. It was better his parents’ way with no strings attached, no regrets, no guilt, when he had to take off. After those three wagon train days, Kelley would go back to Sunset Hills, and in a month or two, Nick Vasquez would return from the Middle East. Pocketbook full, Jason’s own free spirit could soar again to places that, he realized just now, ought to include Sweden.

It would be awesome to carry memories of Kelley Martin along, though. He sure wasn’t averse to that.

Suddenly she yawned and cuddled against him once again. He longed to close her mouth with his, but she flushed with embarrassment in the porch light. “I promise you. I am not bored. But I am beat. I better hit the hay. Catch up with you in the morning.”