enough.” Wes opened the door to leave.
“Supper is at six. See you then.”
Johnny wasn’t going to barge in on the Calhouns. “Look, Wes. I don’t have to go. I know the boy extended the invite but …”
“And Brady will probably have a million questions for you.” Wes paused. “Look, as you can see the boy has a big fear of horses mainly because of an incident with a spooked horse when he was a toddler. He’s really looking forward to talking to you at supper.” The foreman frowned. “And if the boy is taking an interest in you training Storm, I take it as a good sign.”
Johnny finally nodded. As long as the boy didn’t expect anything more than a few answers about horses. “I guess I can handle as many questions as he can ask.”
A smile spread across Wes’s face. “I suggest you stick around long enough to sample Jess’s dessert. That’s her specialty.”
The picture in Johnny’s head conjured a lot more than sweet confections. “Then I guess I should stay and have a taste.”
Johnny studied the big ranch-style house, which might have been built a hundred years ago. There had been several additions to the structure, including the large kitchen that had been remodeled recently with all the modern conveniences. There was a huge double oven and the gas cooktop had eight burners. The refrigerator was industrial-size. Then he learned that Jess’s late mother, Sandra, and Jess had begun making their homemade jellies and jams right here until Jess had outgrown the space. After her mother’s heart attack and death three years ago, Jess had opened up shop at another location on the ranch.
So Ms. Calhoun worked for a living.
The group sat in front of the fireplace at a long wooden table that looked as if it had been around for years. Wes explained that Clay had liked eating in the kitchen.
Although the Calhouns were extremely wealthy you couldn’t tell by the way they acted or treated others. They were down-to-earth folk.
The meal was pot roast with potatoes and carrots. His favorite. The biscuits were mouthwatering. And, oh, yeah, he couldn’t wait until dessert.
“What do you whisper to the horses?” Brady asked, breaking into his thoughts. “Magic words?”
“No, not magic. I just want to get the horse used to my voice. Not spook ‘em. Each animal is different.” He glanced across the table at Jess. “Sometimes, if it’s a filly, I’ve been known to sweet-talk them. All females respond to that.”
The boy giggled. “Mom likes it when I’m sweet, too.”
Jess smiled at her son.
Brady turned back to him. “Can I watch you train Storm? Mom said I have to ask permission.”
Johnny glanced at Jess again. He wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “Why don’t you give me a little time with him and we’ll see how it goes? Horses can be unpredictable.”
The boy frowned. “I don’t know what that word means.”
“It means we don’t know how Storm will act. He misses your grandfather. And from what I’ve been told they were good friends. I’m gonna try and help him so he’ll trust people.”
“You think someday I can pet him like I did Risky?”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
When Nancy stood and began to clear the table, Wes immediately got up and helped her. Johnny smiled as the two huddled together at the sink and talked quietly.
The boy leaned toward him and cupped his small hand to his mouth. “Wes’s sweet on Nancy.”
“Brady,” his mother called. “You shouldn’t whisper at the table, it’s impolite.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
She nodded and glanced at the clock. “I think it’s about time we head home. So go gather your things. You have school tomorrow.”
The kid opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned to Johnny. “Papa Clay said that a gentleman never sasses a lady.”
“Your grandfather was a smart man.”
“The smartest in the whole wide world.” The boy got up from the table and walked out.
The room grew silent except for the soft tones coming from the other side of the kitchen. “I should go, too,” he told Jess.
He was surprised when she reached across the table and touched his arm to stop him. He felt the warmth of her delicate hand through his shirt.
“Please, don’t leave.” She quickly moved it away. “I mean, finish your coffee, Mr. Jameson. And have some dessert. It’s apple pie.”
He looked into those light brown eyes. “I will if you stop calling me mister. Again, the name is Johnny.”
“Johnny,” she repeated. “And I’m Jess.”
“That short for Jessica?”
With her nod, he said, “I think Jess suits you better.”
“I don’t know if I should ask what you mean by that.”
“I’d say you’re a solid, dependable person.”
She quickly changed the subject. “What about you, Johnny Jameson? Do you have a place you call home?”
He hated to have the tables turned on him. But it was best she knew him from the start. No surprises. “No. I travel too much with my work to pay for a place that would be empty for months at a time. As you can see, my trailer is big enough.” He smiled. “And a pretty good sleeping quarters, and just about everything else I need.”
“You don’t get lonely?”
Hell, he’d been lonely all his life. He took a sip of coffee. “I’ve been on my own since I was a kid. I like moving around from place to place.” He needed to get her away from talking about him. “Enough about me.” He leaned forward, his voice low. “I’d rather talk about a pretty woman, with a smile that could stop a man in his tracks.”
A blush rose on her cheeks and she glanced away.
“Too much information?” he asked.
“Maybe a little inappropriate. We don’t even know each other.”
He started to speak when he heard a familiar voice ask, “Mom, what does inppro … inpprop …?”
Smiling, Johnny stood. “It means that I didn’t behave myself, son.” He ruffled the boy’s hair and walked to the back door. Grabbing his hat off the hook he looked back at the woman he suspected would be keeping him awake tonight.
“Good night, Jess. Brady.” He turned and walked out into the cold, but that didn’t put out the fire in his belly.
The
