The Best Little Joeville. Anne Eames
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His eyes met hers and lingered there before glancing down at her lips. She licked them involuntarily, then kicked herself mentally for doing so.
“Your skin’s not as weathered as mine. Frostbite’s nothing to fool with out here.” He started to turn the scarf around and knot it behind her head, but then he lowered it and gazed deep into her eyes, in that haunting way of his that left her feeling naked and without secrets. “Do you think we could call a truce while you’re here?” he asked finally.
“I didn’t know we were at war,” she snapped, seeing the disappointment in his eyes. He started to turn away but she grabbed his jacket and met his eyes evenly this time. “Okay. Truce?”
A slow smile reached his eyes and she felt a trickle of sweat trail down from between her breasts.
“Want to see Josh’s farmhouse? It’s about a fifteen-minute ride if we cut over the ridge.” He pointed east and she saw nothing but foothills and snow-laden pines.
“I’d love to,” she said. He moved closer and reached for her scarf, his eyes hesitating again on her lips. He shifted in his saddle and inched closer. Those slow hands she had always admired circled her and Jenny closed her eyes. Then she felt the tug of the knot at the back of her head and a moment later, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath through the wool, he hesitated, then raised the scarf over her nose.
“There. That ought to do the trick.” There was a hint in his smile that said he knew what she was thinking, yet he didn’t give voice to his thoughts, but simply turned his horse and loped toward the ridge.
So much fur the kiss, she thought, and smiled hehind the cover of the scarf. He thought he was so clever. Huh! She’d seen it in his eyes. There was little doubt what was on his mind. And there was little doubt something would happen before long.
Jenny nudged her horse and followed Shane’s tracks, marveling at the beauty around her. Millions of tiny diamondlike flakes winked at the brilliant sun, keeping her company till she reached her destination. Once there, evergreens cast long ink-blot shadows, conjuring all sorts of images. She caught up to Shane and looked down at the stream below. A slow trickle was making its way over fallen timbers and shiny rocks of all sizes. She looked up and saw a puff of smoke coming from a fieldstone chimney a couple of miles away. It rose above an old farmhouse with a large covered front porch. A stake truck, parked alongside, was covered with a large gray tarp, a few two-by-fours jutting out the end.
“Is that Josh’s place?” Even from a distance it appeared warm and cozy, nestled among pines and bare-branched aspens that wound their way further up the foothills of the MoJoes, the majestic pair of mountains that overlooked Joeville, the area Shane’s great grandfather, Joe Malone, had laid claim to over a hundred years ago. For miles below there was level land and Jenny could already imagine fields of tall golden wheat waving in the wind as large combines cut a wide swath.
“Yep. It’s all Josh’s now. Used to be my great-grandparent’s place when they first moved west. Then Granddad built the ranch and this has been abandoned ever since. When Dad tripled our living quarters and added all the outbuildings, it didn’t look like anyone would ever live up here again.”
“I think it’s perfectly charming. I can see why Josh is so excited.”
“Yeah, well, wish we could say the same for Dad. He still holds fast to the old ways—that pure ranchers don’t farm. And now that Josh has taken up flying so he can crop dust when the time comes—” Shane repositioned his wide-brimmed bat and chuckled “—well, let’s just say there’s a little tension between Josh and Dad.”
Jenny laughed. “You’re a fine one to criticize Max for being set in his ways. When was the last time you changed?”
Shane sailed but his expression grew more serious. “What about you?”
Jenny stopped laughing. “What do you mean ‘What about me?’”
“Well, for example, why don’t you want to talk to Buck...learn more about those herbs you’re so interested in?”
She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Indians! Why do we always end up talking about Indians?”
His smile disappeared, his brown eyes turning nearly black. “Buck is one person, not a whole race. Besides, he’s like family to me. He’s a good and wise man who knows much about the things of the earth, who could teach—”
“Look, Shane—” She started to argue her point, but thought better of it. What difference did it make if he understood her attitude? She wasn’t going to change it, and that was that. “I promised Billy I’d help him build a snowman. Maybe we should head back.” She turned her horse away from him and avoided his eyes. She knew what she would see and feeling guilty was not on her agenda today.
Silently he turned and followed, eventually riding alongside her the rest of the way. The beauty she had witnessed on the way out was lost on her now, an inner turmoil dogging her every thought. She didn’t want to spar with Shane, but she could never share his love of Indians, either. Why couldn’t he try to understand and just let it go?
Three
As Hannah had promised, Wednesday was a busy day in the kitchen. In between serving the usual three meals, Jenny and Hannah prepared for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner.
After supper Jenny covered her cranberry gelatin mold and found the last available space in the refrigerator, while Hannah wrestled with the thirty-pound turkey, finding another feather to pluck.
“There. Think I got ’em all. Ya sure we cain’t stuff it tonight? I always have, ya know.” Hannah reached for the large box of foil.
“I know a lot of people do, but it’s much safer to wait till just before we put it in the oven.” Jenny eyed the old woman who had had her way in this room for over forty years, surprised she was even considering a change.
“Well then...ya’ve proved ya know what yer doin’ since the first day ya set foot in here, Jenny Moon. So guess we jes wait till t’morrow.” She wrapped the big bird and shoved the box of foil in Jenny’s direction for the dressing.
Jenny smiled, enjoying the compliment Hannah had just paid her.
“So ya gonna stay here this time, young one? I sure did miss yer help. These old legs cain’t take much more of these long days.”
The casual conversation ended as subtly as a brick through the window. Hannah was now working her agenda. Jenny knew it would come sooner or later, but was surprised how soon. She remembered Max’s open invitation the last time she’d been here. There was no doubt she would be a welcome addition to the ranch. The work was actually easier and a lot less stressful than her catering job back home. And here she would be with Savannah and all the others she had come to care for. So why the hesitation? Only one word popped into her thoughts.
Shane.
Could she be around him for long and not get involved? Was she ready to trust him? Or any man, as far as that goes? A fling was one thing, but a commitment was quite another. Her mother had taught her well: men could not be trusted. In a flash she pictured Ryder with Savannah and the obvious