Читать книгу Wild Cat And The Marine - Jade Taylor - Страница 10

THAT NIGHT, Jackson donned a pair of pajama shorts and stretched out on the same bed he’d slept in as a boy. It must have shrunk, because his feet touched the tailboard. He turned off the bedside lamp and lay still for a few minutes, then restlessly sprang from the bed. At the window, he pushed aside the blue linen curtains. A few miles away, he could see the distant glow of lights from Catherine Darnell’s home.

In the wintertime, those lights cast a yellow cone against rolling drifts of snow. Now the night swallowed them, so they were just small reminders that this wasn’t the only farm in Traill County, that he wasn’t really alone, that if he climbed out the window and started walking toward the lights, at the end of his journey he’d see a well-remembered face.

He wouldn’t do that, of course. He couldn’t. Stopping by to see Cat, as he’d told her he would, simply wasn’t in the cards. Logic dictated that he stay away from her.

Cat Darnell hadn’t been very friendly, anyway. She must be married, though he’d noticed she didn’t wear a ring. Not to Roy Thoreson, or she would have said so when they talked about him. He’d have to find a way to ask Pop. Casually, of course.

He turned away from the window. No, hell, he couldn’t do that. He didn’t need the complications she would bring and as he remembered the pink fullness of her lower lip, he knew there’d be complications. He’d do what he came to do and then get the hell out of Engerville. Christmas and maybe a week in the summer, he could come back and see Pop. Jackson thought he wouldn’t mind coming back on visits that much, now that he and Pop had come to terms.

He lay on the bed again, thinking. Inevitably, his mind returned to that long-ago prom night. The memory came back to him as if it had happened yesterday. Cat in his arms, her face lit by a bright spring moon, the rose corsage she wore crushed beneath the lapels of his formal sport coat.

He groaned, his body stiff and hurting, not from the protracted bus trip, but because, on that long-ago night, Cat’s shy smile had soothed the hurt Rebeka caused. And Cat was the first girl he’d ever made love to.

CAT LOOKED IN ON Joey. Her daughter had fallen asleep almost immediately. She lay on her side, knees tucked up against her tummy like a small baby. Her hair all tangled and curled, swirled over the pillow and half covered her face. Cat wanted to go in and touch her, tuck the covers more securely around her, but Joey slept light. Cat blew a kiss toward her and pulled the door shut, taking care that its closing made no sound.

She turned on the TV, but tonight Jackson filled her mind. She ignored the flickering light and thought about prom night and Jackson leaving town the next day, how her father reacted when she told him she was pregnant, and being in the hospital all alone. Her father had refused to come with her. Shame, she knew, though an unmarried mother was no great novelty, even in Engerville.

She remembered her first drug-hazy look at the infant she’d brought into the world, her relief that the baby’s hair was as black as her own and her disappointment that it wasn’t the same beautiful red as Jackson’s. She remembered wondering if he would know, by some kind of mental empathy, that he had a child.

Restless, she went to the door, looked back at Joey’s room for a second, then stepped outside. A clear moon shone down. Aunt Johanna’s lilacs scented the night. Cat missed her aunt. She missed her father, too, but he’d been a strict parent, often reminding her that her wild mother had run away from husband and child. Only Aunt Johanna had bothered to show Cat that love motivated her discipline.

From the barn, a questioning whicker came from one of the horses. Probably Ruggie, she thought. The troublesome colt was always alert.

The bank wasn’t happy about waiting until September for their money. They might even foreclose, though Greg Lundstrom had said he’d see what he could do. Where would she go then? Maybe if the yearling colt her father bought a year ago hadn’t had the bad luck to step in a gopher hole and break his leg, they’d have a horse ready to sell now. One whose price would make the mortgage payment for a year and take this load of worry off her shoulders.

Dad’s funeral expenses ate up most of the remaining emergency money in his account. There hadn’t been much to begin with, since her father seldom planned ahead. After Aunt Johanna died, she’d taken on the job of balancing the farm’s books and worked out a budget, which her father followed only sporadically.

Jackson. He was home again, a bare couple of miles away, and how was she supposed to handle that? If she’d thought she was over her infatuation with him, one glimpse of the Marine had knocked that thought “hind end over tea kettle” as her father used to say. How come she’d never wanted anybody else, anyway? Why had her attention settled so securely on one skinny redheaded boy that nearly fifteen years after meeting him she still ached with unrequited love? Unrequited? That was like saying the sky was blue. Jackson didn’t care about anybody but himself.

He’d grown up spoiled by being the eldest child, the handsome boy, the star athlete. Only his kindness kept him from being labeled a royal jerk, instead of Engerville’s crown prince. A prince who ran away from the throne, not because he didn’t care for the soft seat, but just to see other kingdoms.

Cat crossed her arms in front of her white T-shirt. Why did she care about him? It couldn’t be just his looks. Even if a glimpse of his red hair did melt her legs so she could barely stand up. No, it was more than his physical looks, more than the stir of sensual longings.

It was the softness behind his tough exterior. The way he’d included her in his gang at school, so she’d never had one day of strangeness after she and her father moved to Engerville. It was that time she’d been caught shooting a rubber band at him in study hall and gotten detention. He’d immediately confessed his own involvement and shared the detention with her, grinning behind his notebook, winking lazily when the teacher turned her back, so what had been intended as punishment turned into a favorite memory.

Behind her Cat heard the door close. Whirling around, her musing interrupted, she saw Joey emerge from the house, her white pajamas easily visible in the moonlight. Her unplanned daughter.

“Mom? Where were you? I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Sorry, Teddy Bear. I came outside for a breath of fresh air. Why’d you wake up?”

Joey rubbed her eyes and yawned, her pink mouth sweet and small, even when stretched wide. “I don’t know. I think I had a bad dream.”

Cat reached out and tousled Joey’s dark hair, allowing her hand to slide down her daughter’s cheek in a soft caress. “Were you scared?”

“No-o-o, I don’t think so. It was just a funny dream.”

“Want to tell me about it?” Her daughter’s petulant shrug was Jackson. The winsome glance out the corner of her eyes to see what effect it had on her mother had been borrowed from an expert at capturing his audience’s interest.

“Nah…I don’t remember. Will you come in now? I want to go back to sleep, but I can’t sleep if you’re out here.”

The sweet pleading was her daughter’s own contribution, Cat thought. She smiled. “You’re still my baby girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a baby anymore, but I like it when you’re in the house with me.”

“That’s okay, sweetie. I like it when I know where you are, too.”

Joey’s head tilted sideways as she looked up. “Would you ever leave me, Mom?”

Cat was shocked. “No! Whatever caused you to think such a terrible thing? Did you dream that?”

Narrow shoulders shrugged again. “Not exactly, but kinda. Do you love me?” Her innocent voice begged reassurance.

“Teddy Bear, we belong together. I’m your mommy and you’re my darling girl. We’ll always be together. Except,” she paused dramatically, “when you run off to marry Tommy Karl.”

Joey giggled. “That won’t be for a long time. Tommy said we have to be sixteen. That’s almost forever.”

“Right, darling.” Cat tried to smile and found it an effort. The first eight years of Joey’s life had passed so fast. Would the next eight go as swiftly? And when her daughter did get old enough to fall in love and marry, would Cat be alone again? This time for the rest of her life?

VERY EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Cass came into Jackson’s bedroom and woke him from a tantalizing dream. It vanished from his memory the moment he opened his eyes and saw his sister’s elfin smile above him. “Early, isn’t it?” he mumbled, seeing no light at all behind the blinds he’d closed over the bedroom window.

She knelt beside his cot. “I’m getting an early start. I can’t wait to see the baby. And Sam. Now that you’re here, I feel okay about leaving Pop.”

Jackson grinned sleepily as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, ignored the clothes in his duffel and followed Cass into the living room. Grabbing her suitcase away from her, he threw his free arm around her shoulders. “Let’s fly, chickadee.”

“I’ll get the door for you, since you’re stretching those Marine muscles for me.”

A few minutes later, standing beside the car, her suitcase safely stowed in the trunk, Cass gave him a last tight hug. “Try not to argue with Pop, Jackson. Okay?”

“Who? Me?”

“Duh-h-h! Who else? Seriously, Jackson. Do it for me, will you? Agree with him.”

“On everything?”

“Would it hurt so much?”

“Okay, okay. I promise.”

“I love you, Jackson.”

“Me, too, runt.”

“You’re supposed to say you love me back.”

“I did.”

She sighed. “You’ll never change, will you? Think about it, Jackson. Think about loving somebody else more than you do yourself. Think about admitting it when you do. You might even find out you like it.”

She started the car and waved as she left, tossing a last phrase at him. “I’ll call.”

A swell of discontent washed over Jackson along with the dust Cass’s car kicked up in its wake. He wasn’t a selfish idiot thinking only of himself. His sister should know that. He still wasn’t sure from what direction Cat Darnell was coming. He could’ve sworn she’d been glad to see him at first, but then she’d turned colder than a winter blizzard. Who could understand women? He tightened his hands into fists as he launched his body toward the porch. He had too much to do to waste time wondering what either woman wanted to tell him.

EVERY NIGHT SINCE Jackson Gray had returned to town, Cat went to sleep remembering the solid feel of Jackson’s chest beneath her cheek. Every morning, she rose from bed a little quicker than usual, always glancing out the window toward Will Gray’s farm. Every day drove her depression a little deeper. Her hostility had forced him away. Her open anger kept him at a distance. She’d not seen him for years and now, when he was home, she’d made sure he wouldn’t come around.

She’d missed him every single day since he’d left Engerville, but if he came around now, he could discover the truth about Joey. She had to keep that from happening at any cost. If that meant not seeing the only man she’d ever loved, then so be it. Nothing mattered more than Joey and keeping the ranch for her.

Two weeks after she’d given Jackson a lift to his father’s farm, she stood watching Joey canter Moonshot, a strawberry roan filly, around the paddock. Wearing her daily uniform of jeans, T-shirt and riding helmet, she sat in the old English hunting saddle as if she’d been born in it, despite it being too large for her.

Joey brought the filly to an easy stop beside her mother. “Can I jump her, Mom? Just some little baby jumps? Please?”

Cat shook her head. “In a week or two, we’ll start her. Not yet. She’s a green girl, just like you. We don’t want to spoil her.”

“Oh, Mom, she’s so good. I know she’ll like jumping! Please?”

Cat frowned. Her daughter saw the look and knew she’d pushed too hard.

“Never mind. Next week will be okay, won’t it, Moonshot?” She rubbed the filly’s neck and gave her mother a sly look.

The filly snorted and tossed her head.

Cat laughed. “I caught that sneaky little try. Maybe next week, but not for certain. It depends.”

“Sure…sure. I know you’ll let us. You know, too, don’t you, girl?” Joey leaned forward and pulled a hank of hair straight, flipping it back over the filly’s neck so it lay on the same side with the rest of the coarse mane.

“I’d place a small bet that says you will, too,” a husky voice near Cat’s ear agreed.

Cat jumped, so startled she knocked her coffee cup off the rail. Moonshot shied as the cup rolled near her and sprang sideways in a series of hopping jumps.

“Oops,” Jackson said. “I’m sorry, kid! Hang on!”

Joey gripped tighter with her knees, while going easy on the reins, and gently brought her mount back to a standstill.

“Are you okay, Joey?” Cat asked.

“Yes, Mom. Moonshot didn’t mean it. She was just playing.”

Cat glanced at the man beside her, her gaze skipping away before he could know how hungry she was for the sight of him. He wore faded jeans and a white T-shirt that contrasted sharply with the sun-reddened skin on his upper arms. A tinge of pink darkened his cheeks above the sandpaper shadow of freshly scraped beard. His hair gleamed in the morning sun.

Her stomach tightened with fierce desire. Damn him, anyway, for sneaking up on her before she had a chance to get her defenses in order. She looked at Joey, not at him. “Where did you come from?” she asked. “I didn’t hear a car.”

He looked guilty. “I walked over from the farm. I had a sudden impulse to talk to somebody besides Buddy and Pop. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind?” She struggled to speak, to sound normal, to cover up her shakiness, despite the rapid beat of her heart and the watery lack of strength in her legs. “Oh, no. Of course not, but if you insist on sneaking up like that, get ready to catch me.” Cat placed one shaky hand on the second rail of the fence and hastily combed back stray strands of hair with the other.

Jackson’s lopsided grin showed no remorse. “Sorry. Next time I’ll sing out. Is that pretty little girl yours?”

Unprepared for this first reference to Joey, she said, “Y-yes. My daughter, Johanna. Everybody calls her Joey.”

“Hi, Joey!” Jackson said, pitching his greeting in the direction of the girl.

She waved, but didn’t reply, ducking her head in sudden shyness.

Cat watched Jackson with complete attention, determined not to miss the slightest nuance of expression. Would he know immediately? And God help her, how would she explain? Despite his cheerful greeting to her daughter, different emotions flashed across his face. What did he think of Joey, and how could he not know?

“Is your husband around? Introduce me. I’d like to meet the guy who tamed Wild Cat Darnell.”

Relief ran through her. He hadn’t guessed. Cat hesitated a moment before she realized only the truth would do. The truth up to a point. “Uh, no, I mean…that is, I’m not married.”

“Mmh. Well, um, that’s too bad, I mean, actually, I’m kinda glad.”

Cat’s awareness of his every emotion didn’t miss his sudden cheer. The relaxing of facial muscles, the unguarded upturn of lips told her he’d meant his words. Her own heart lightened. “Glad?”

He hesitated before answering. His broad palm rubbed the weathered rail. “Well, yes. I was hoping you’d take me around town and maybe look up some of our old crowd with me.” His grin straightened itself out as another thought occurred to him. “Unless you have a boyfriend or…significant other who might object…. Do you?”

Cat resolved to get a grip on her volatile emotions. His question meant nothing, though just for a moment she saw something else in his face. He wanted a tour guide, not a girlfriend. He’d never wanted her except that one, single time. She pretended amusement. Her cheek muscles twitched in a beginning smile. “I’m a rancher, Jackson. I’m way too busy for the dating game.”

He cajoled. “You must have somebody, but probably not any of the guys I knew.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can’t think of a guy in our class who’d be dumb enough to let two such beautiful women out of his sight.”

Joey giggled and covered her mouth with one hand, the other still holding carefully to Moonshot’s reins.

Jackson intended his remark to provoke Joey’s shy giggle, not her own speculation, Cat thought. She shot a look of reproach at Joey, glad she had that diversion. “Walk your horse, Joey. Moonshot is too warm to let her stand around.”

“Yes, Mom,” Joey answered, suddenly contrite. She touched the filly with her heels and the young mare stepped away.

Cat’s gaze followed her daughter. Joey sat straight, her slender body in the correct riding position as if by instinct.

“She’s a good rider,” Jackson remarked.

“I was just thinking that.”

Jackson’s voice softened. “I know.”

Cat raised an eyebrow. “You knew what I was thinking?”

Jackson grinned. “Your pride is obvious, Cat. And warranted. She is a good rider.”

He stood too close to her. It made thinking difficult. She stooped down, retrieved her cracked coffee cup and looked at it ruefully before speaking. “Jackson, you know how to warm a mother’s heart, but this was my first cup of coffee and my caffeine addiction needs feeding. Would you like a cup?”

“Will she be okay?” He nodded toward Joey.

“Moonshot is the gentlest of our horses. She has a wonderfully sweet nature and is the one Joey loves best. They’ll be okay.” Why get a silly warm spot in her stomach just because he showed concern for Joey? Cat knew she teetered on the edge of disclosing her secret and it scared her. She called out to her daughter, “Joey, we’re going to get some coffee. Put Moonshot in the barn when you’re through walking her. Okay?”

Her little girl, in a sweet, clear voice, answered, “Sure, Mom. I’ll curry her before I put her away. Tommy Karl is coming over later, so I might not have time this afternoon.”

“Good idea, honey. See you later.”

“Who’s Tommy Karl?”

“You remember Luke Anderson, don’t you?”

“Rebeka’s older brother? Of course.”

Of course, he remembered. “His wife left their boy with him when she took off a couple of years ago. Tommy Karl is Joey’s best friend.”

Jackson nodded. “That’s a shame. It can’t be easy raising a kid alone. You’re in the same boat, aren’t you?”

For a second, Cat knew this would be the perfect moment to tell him. Again, she realized she couldn’t. Fear of his reaction kept her silent. Forcing a smile, she said, “Joey is a gift. Nothing tough about raising her! How’s Cass managing with her baby? I saw her in town a couple of weeks ago, but didn’t have a chance to talk to her.”

Jackson looked at her. He couldn’t possibly guess the truth about Joey, and the sun would rise in the west before she’d tell him and force him to stay when he wanted to go.

IN THE KITCHEN, Cat watched as Jackson sat at the table, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. When she filled his cup, she had to stand close to him. It was sheer torture to look down at his hair without reaching toward those soft, beginning curls. Desire caught her unaware. Desperately, she fought to keep her attraction from showing. She chose the chair at the far end of the table.

Jackson studied her, his blue eyes steady and true. Which he was not, she reminded herself.

“Roy’s a reporter. Rebeka is living in Virginia. Who else is still around?”

Me, Jackson. I’m still here. “Let’s see…Sally, Roy’s youngest sister, married Allen Grinager, the preacher. You wouldn’t know him, though. He came here after Pastor Skadeland died. Heather and Holly Halvorson married the Solberg boys, Sammy and Paul. Let me think a moment. Who else in our crowd are you curious about?”

“It seems the whole town married somebody. Are you the only one who didn’t?”

It took effort to prevent a surge of pink from reaching her cheeks. She even chuckled, though it didn’t sound much like amusement to her ears. “Oh, I had an offer or two, but somehow it just hasn’t happened.”

“The guys around here must be on the slow side. Don’t you want to get married?”

“Someday, I suppose. Not right now.” Jackson practiced his charm on whatever woman was handy. He meant no harm, but her heartbeat speeded up, despite her determination not to let him affect her. “Oh, I forgot to mention Shirley. She went to New York to be an actress. I heard she got a part in a real Broadway play.”

“Really? Shirley McGill in New York? Good for her. She loved acting and her singing was special, too.”

“I remember.” I didn’t forget anything about you, she wanted to say, surprised at the strength of her yearning. Jackson stared back at her as if he had no interest in Shirley McGill, as if the one he wanted sat across from him. Did she read too much into the glint in his eyes, the languid smile, the way his long fingers drummed on the kitchen table as if it took great effort to remain still?

Finally, she heard the screen door slam. Not a moment too soon, either. She needed a distraction to calm her long-denied emotions.

Joey came over to her and assumed a position just behind her left shoulder, one hand holding on to the chair her mother sat in. Cat smiled proudly at her. “Sit down, honey. I’ll get you a glass of milk.”

Joey cast a shy glance at Jackson. “That’s okay. I’m not thirsty.”

Cat flicked a quick glance at Joey. While her wide eyes betrayed nervousness, and not fear, it was obvious that she didn’t plan on straying far from her mother. Cat looked at Jackson. His open face showed a keen interest in her sprite. “Jackson is Cass Gray’s brother, Joey. You remember Cass, don’t you? She’s married now to a policeman and lives in Minneapolis.”

“Uh-huh. She’s got red hair, too.”

“The curse of the Grays,” Jackson quipped.

“I like red hair,” Joey responded. “I wish I had red hair.”

Jackson turned his charm on the child. “Your hair is beautiful, Joey. Almost the same color as Cat’s, but maybe a shade lighter.”

“It’s okay.” Joey edged closer to her mother.

Cat took a deep breath, her nose wrinkling. “It might be a good idea for you to take a shower, Joey. You smell like a horse.”

Joey giggled. “I know. I always do and you always say that.”

Jackson stood up. “I’ll be going, then. Pop will be wondering if I went AWOL. It’s been great talking to you, Cat.”

She had a sudden urge to keep him there, to say something that would prevent his leaving, but no words came. She nodded, a tightness in her throat stopping any statement she might have made.

“Nice to meet you, Joey. You’re a crackerjack rider.”

“Thank you,” Joey responded politely, then grinned at her mother. Though used to being told she was a good rider, hearing those words from a stranger excited her.

“I’ll see you again before I leave, Cat. Thanks for the coffee.”

Cat stood and walked with him to the door. A drum-beat of regret pounded at her. She wanted to hold him, to stop him, and at the same time, she wanted him to go quickly before he destroyed the small world she’d built without him.

He hesitated at the door, turned, leaned casually down and touched her cheek with his lips. “Bye, then.”

And he was gone. Again.